#luckily it doesn’t bleed like that often

[cosmicheartz]

Art dump

doodles of my fave flipline gals

Semi finalized design for Narinder

Narinder in Maveths universe

Judas redesign ( doubles as a dress up doll )

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!

I love your writing so much and think about it maybe too often haha. Today I fell and sliced the back of my hand open so I had to go wait 4 hours at the ER to get it sutured back together and I thought it might be a sort of funny scenario to write about with the marauders where R just walks up to them covered in blood like “heyy who wants to drive me to the ER” and is pretty chill in demeanour until the reality of having a hole in her hand sets in once they clean her up. I went into shock then, lost my hearing for a few minutes which was scary, but luckily I had a someone nearby who could help. Of course no worries if you don’t feel like it, I appreciate you and I hope you have a lovely day!♡

Thanks for requesting! I hope your hand is feeling better lovely <3

cw: blood, mention of razors (unrelated to blood)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 788 words

“Hey, Sirius?” 

Sirius screws the brush of his nail polish back into the bottle. “Yeah?” 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not anymore.” He gets up from the bed, wandering towards your voice in the bathroom. “What’s up, gorgeous? You need something?” 

Sirius stalls when he finds you. You’re standing there with a dissatisfied frown on your face, your hand a basin of blood held in front of you that’s overflowing into the sink. 

“Maybe a ride to A&E?” you ask. “If you’re free.” 

“What the hell happened?” Sirius goes to you. He tries to take your hand, but you move it away. 

“Wait, your nails—” 

“I’m not really worried about my nails right now, babe.” He holds you by the wrist, turning the faucet on to a gentle flow before bringing your hand underneath it. The blood washes away quickly, and Sirius blocks your view of the cut, leaning down to see it. “How’d you manage this?” 

“I was just opening my new razors—” 

“Razors?” 

“It wasn’t even the razors that did it,” you say, a laugh somewhere in your voice. Your raised voices have drawn attention from the rest of the house. Remus and then James appear in the doorway. “It was the plastic it comes in. Surprisingly sharp.” 

“What’s going on?” asks James. 

“She would like to know,” Sirius informs him, “if it’s convenient for any of us to drive her to A&E.” 

You roll your eyes. “Alright, you don’t have to say it like that. I just mean that it’s not so dire, I’m hardly bleeding out.” 

“You might be!” 

“What’d you do, love?” Remus moves forward to see, he and Sirius now clustered on either side of you, each closer to your own hand than you are. 

“She managed to injure herself with plastic packaging.”

“Okay. Again, the tone is a bit much,” you say. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” James’ arms wrap around your waist. He smudges a kiss onto your cheek. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, audibly softening at the affection, “it doesn’t even hurt that bad, it’s only stinging…” You go quiet. 

Sirius glances back at you, and you’re staring between him and Remus, your hand in your view for the first time. You look suddenly paler. 

“Hey, baby.” Sirius’ voice draws the attention of the other two to what’s happened. He steps in front of your hand again, squeezing up the length of your arm. “You’re okay.” 

“It’s…” You stare at where you had been for a moment longer, then snap your vision to the side. You’re breathing a tad faster. “God, sorry. I feel sort of sick.” 

“Take some breaths, dove, you��re alright.” Remus holds your hand close to his chest, shielding it from your view as he reaches into a nearby drawer for bandages. “We’re just going to stop the bleeding and then take you to A&E, you don’t have to do anything.” 

“All of you?” 

“Why?” James gives your middle a light squeeze. “Are there some of us you’d rather not have there?”

“I knew she had favorites.” Sirius grins. “Cruel. We’re only trying to be there for you, gorgeous.” 

You smile a little bit for their sake. You’re not sure either of them believe it, but James gives you a thankful kiss nonetheless. 

“Keep breathing,” he reminds you, big hand rubbing up and down your abdomen. “You’re really doing so well. I was surprised by how calm you seemed a minute ago.” 

“You should have heard her before you got here.” Sirius squints his eyes at you playfully. “She wouldn’t let me touch her hand because she was worried it’d mess up my nail polish.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs, giving you another fond squeeze. “Really?” 

“Priorities, babe,” Sirius chides you. 

“Alright,” says Remus. You feel a kiss on your knuckles, and then he’s turning around, your bandaged hand still held protectively between both of his. “Is anyone going to warm the car, or do I have to do everything?” 

You nod, chastened, and start towards the door, but you’re dragged back by three pairs of hands. 

“I mean anyone not injured, dove.” Remus’ voice is heavy with loving exasperation. 

“See what we’ve been dealing with? It’s a two man job.” Sirius squeezes your shoulder on his way past, presumably going to warm the car. James says something about getting your shoes and follows behind.

You give Remus a woeful look. He tsks, folding you into a hug. “Did you really prioritize Sirius’ nail polish over your bleeding hand?” he asks in a murmur. 

You mush your cheek to his chest. “Only for a minute.” 

Remus is quiet, but his amused breath fans over the top of your head as he brings his lips down for a kiss.

[toasttt11]

blood

December 27, 2019

Hayden was sitting her stall getting ready for the game that’s about to start. She’s been a bit down as she had to say bye to her family yesterday after spending the holidays with them and she didn’t know when she would be able to see them again in the season expect Quinn as they are both going to the All Stars but the rest of the family won’t be there.

Hayden took a deep breath closing her eyes as she fiddled with her necklace getting ready for the game. It was her first time playing against Calgary and she knows how much of rivalry is there and knew she would be focused on as the flames would see her as the weakest link.

And she was right. The second she started her first shift she was already slammed into, which she ignored not wanting to start a fight within the first minute of the game.

She shook it off and got ready for the next play.

It happened again. And again. Hayden was getting hit by any player on the flames, some hits just in the middle of the ice, some hitting her into the boards.

Hayden just rolled her eyes thinking this is stupid and as she walked down the tunnel at the end of the first intermission she knew she would be covered in bruises tomorrow morning.

Connor leaned over to Hayden as they both sat down in their stalls, “Are you okay?” Connor asked in concern looking at her with worried eyes. He’s seen how much Hayden has been thrown around tonight, something that doesn’t happen often.

Hayden clenched her jaw annoyed she has been hit so many times, “I’m okay.” Hayden reassured Connor making him nod and accept her words.

By the time the third period started Hayden was fuming absolutely annoyed she had been targeted the entire time.

She looked up as she passed the puck to Leon just as she saw a stick swing right at her face knocking her over and her hand go up to her cheek already knowing she is bleeding.

Hayden grumbled and looked back up seeing the player looking smug, “Dick.” Hayden cursed standing up and went to stand to and punch him across the face when Leon came over and punched him across the face and immediately got into a fight with him.

Hayden darted forward grabbing Matthew before he could pull Leon off and Matthew struggled to get Hayden’s arms off his neck, “Really Blake?” Matthew chocked out with a smirk, he’s know Hayden for years and isn’t surprised she has him in headlock.

Hayden just grumbled feeling blood coming down her face.

Eventually the referees broke apart the fights and made Hayden go to the penalty box even tho blood is literally gushing down her face.

Leon did not like they were making Hayden go to the box with her being injured and she obviously needed to see the trainers.

Hayden just set a hand on Leon’s hand and shook her head, it was no use to fight with a stubborn referee.

Hayden and Leon headed to the pentagon box and Leon immediately grabbed a towel and handed it her.

Hayden brought the towel up to face holding it against her cheek trying to stop some bleeding, “Thank you.” Hayden mumbled grateful that Leon fought someone for her, she’s not use to anyone fighting for her as she always fights to herself.

“Always.” Leon promised, he’s would fight for most of the team but especially for Hayden, he’s grown to care for the young girl and he wouldn’t admit it but he has a softer spot for her.

Hayden smiled slightly the right side of her gave just covered in blood and she winced as she smiled feeling more pain shoot through her face.

“Hurts?” Leon asked immediately seeing her wince. He shook his head annoyed that she has to sit here as her face is literally covered in her own blood and blood all over her white jersey.

Hayden nodded slowly, she wouldn’t be surprised to see a big gash on her cheek bone because it hurt bad and there was so much blood.

Luckily once their penalty was over the play was ended and Leon could see Hayden stumbled as she stood up and he wrapped and arm around her and guided her to bench where the trainers and the team were all worriedly waiting for her.

Hayden gave Leon a nod before she was led down the tunnels and into the medical team.

Hayden sat in the medical room and let the trainers look at her face and she grumbled as they told her they had to give her stitches.

Hayden clenched her fists as she got many stitches across her entire cheek bone.

Once the trainers were done she headed to the locker room as there was only two minutes left in the period and she wasn’t going back into the game so she got out of her equipment and headed to the showers.

She grimaced at herself in the mirror, she was covered in her own blood and saw how much was in her blonde hair and knew that would he annoying to get out.

Hayden took a very long shower making sure she was no long covered in blood, she was to tired and in pain everywhere to put her dressy clothes back on she threw on her oilers sweatpants and hoodie.

Hayden paused as she looked sat the stitches across her cheekbone and knew that would leave a scar.

Hayden walked back into the locker room and reassured that she was fine after all the questions and sat down in her stall.

The boys all headed to the showers but Leon.

Leon walked over to Hayden and sat down next to her, “Are you okay?” Leon asked her his eyes looking at her cheek.

“Yeah, i’ll just be more sore than usual tomorrow.” Hayden told Leon, “Thank you for what you did.”

“Any time Mäuschen.” Leon grinned slightly as he patted her leg and stood up.

“Wait what does that mean?” Hayden asked curiously as he started walking away.

Leon shrugged with a mischievous grin, “Little mouse.”

“Leon!” Hayden groaned as he walked away laughing at her.

[majycka]

Gojo Satoru, a sad case of “pookie peaked in high school” and what it tells us about the dangers of nostalgia

(chap 236 and 261 major manga spoilers ahead please be warned!!)

What exactly do I mean by “pookie peaked in high school”? In general definition, it’s someone who often recalls their glory days and achievements back in high school. Well, Gojo Satoru isn’t exactly the type to brag about his achievements in high school because he just generally brags about being  “the strongest” all the time. Instead, I’ll be focusing more on the “recalling glory days” or the nostalgia aspect of this phrase because this is so apparent to how the few times we got to hear Gojo’s thoughts from the past chaps, and it is always longing Geto presence and Geto represents a lot of the youthful days Gojo had. Heck, even in his death, Gojo reverts back to his highschool self, preferring he’d stay in there because that goes to show he’s very much stuck up to his past and heavily longs for it.

Geto is one of Gojo’s biggest symbols of his youth because in that era of high school with him, Gojo gets to be much of a kid when ever since day one of his birth he was built up this perfected weapon of jujutsu. Gojo has someone even in his messed up thinking that only “strong people” will be able to understand him and luckily, he had a “strong person” he could connect with to “understand” the burdens of shouldering such responsibility. Gojo obviously feels nostalgic for his youth because it was that time in his life where he kinda remotely let it someone (aka a friend).  I mean, sure, nostalgia is fine and dandy because Gojo was able to be a teacher with the aim for a better generation. However, there’s a crucial amount of nostalgia that makes someone at least in the healthy realm of thinking and use it to move forward with life. As for Gojo’s case, he is trapped by it.

He’s so stuck by it that it bleeds into his present goals as teacher and that’s his whole schtick with “raising a “stronger” generation that's gonna change the system.” It’s not entirely bad right? He seems like he’s using his past experience to try to change the future. He’s moving forward? He’s seen how badly the system messed up his best friend, so now he doesn't have any of that happening to the kids? But then his intentions are further put into test when he becomes Megumi’s mentor.

We can’t deny that Gojo is a pretty inattentive teacher except for the times he actually wants to be an attentive one (aka with Yuuji’s case). Megumi literally asked Gojo’s time if he wants to spar but it’s kinda understandable because Gojo the Strongest has a tight schedule being always on demand with his job. 

He chooses kids with potential already and kinda leaves them on their own to figure out stuff. If we put him with a student like normal girl Miwa, there’s no doubt he’d say no to teaching her. Now, we’ll be focusing more on Megumi because this guy gets more time under Gojo’s mentorship. This sparring says a lot about their dynamic. To recap, Megumi asks Gojo how he can improve → baseball scene flashback → Gojo points out that he isn't selfish enough and it’s ok to be selfish. However, there’s one thing Gojo forgets about why Megumi, who despite having the gifts, isn’t really pulling his own weight to fulfil potential.  

Gojo forgets Megumi’s not like him who delights in power. Megumi’s just some guy who got stuck working as a sorcerer cuz Gojo says that’s the only way he’ll be able to protect his sister. Gojo ain’t too wrong about the selfish part to be fair though, and he has a point. Megumi needs to think about himself too! Gojo kinda acknowledges the problem but doesn’t really dig into the root of it. It makes sense Megumi depends on his will to live with his sister especially when he grows up where the supposed “nurturing” adults in his life kinda just toss them aside and leaving Megumi to be unequipped with the perils of growing with just his sister around there for any semblance of being “nurtured.” Thus, overall, this trauma being unaddressed leaves Megumi walking around with repressed issues, and yes, that ridiculous meme of Megumi always pulling out Mahagora due to some inconvenience actually says alot about  his self sacrificial issues and suicidal tendencies.

This issue with Gojo also kinda reflects his falling out with Geto. Gojo sees how the system messed up Geto with what happened to someone innocent like Amanai. Gojo, post star vessel plasma, continues to be himself and getting stronger while of course, Geto spirals down. Gojo was able to pick up signs of Spiralling Geto. However, at the same time, Gojo fails to understand why Geto  spiralled so much because this guy is frustrated with the system he thinks is supposed to protect the weak(“non-sorcerers”) and yet those non sorcerers can also still kill someone innocent like Amanai. On top of that, fellow sorcerers also just keep on dying in the process to protect such people. Is there an ending to this madness? Again, Gojo acknowledges the cruelty of an innocent death due to spending time with Amanai, but he doesn’t dig deep into it especially how it affected Geto's psyche because Geto is someone who deeply feels/ connects with people the same way he was able to be friends with a big brat like high school Gojo. 

Wait, so how does this entire thing again connect to nostalgia? Gojo’s whole past with Geto is filled with nostalgia that in some sense he kinda doesn’t stop to think and reflect about the bad parts about it like how Geto spiralled and how their friendship is tested. That’s the whole thing about nostalgia, how it gives us an idealized and romanticized version of the past. That nostalgia is Gojo being filled with a sense of comradery with Geto, someone as strong as him, he rarely experienced in his “it’s lonely to be the top” life. In some sense, it looks like Gojo just tryna recapture that nostalgic feeling/romanticized past with his whole “I will raise people stronger than me so they can change the system.” As if he’s whole solution to that fallout with Geto is that if maybe Geto’s only “stronger” maybe he could have power through his trauma and that whole spiralling thing never gets to happen.

SOURCE (for the sake of more accurate translation)

It’s like if his kids are raised strong, stronger than him, then they will push through ANYTHING and kick out the old grumpy higher ups with no problem. The highlight here is strength alone. However, as we see in Megumi (and even Yuta), he isn’t that case, and it ended up him being in a vulnerable position. Megumi was able to get back to his sister after some killing spree but still ends up getting his body snatched away from him due to failure to communicate with his sister, stemming from his unaddressed issues. Yuuji can only think of himself as a cog of the system, another child soldier they can use. Yuta, also one of the students that Gojo is seen to also mentor, ends up being HEAVILY affected, but I will dedicate another meta post about him because he’s the star of jjk 261 afterall.

Gojo’s type of thinking probably come from being raised in a system where they refused to see these kids as individual humans with feelings and emotions but just weapons. Also, his whole trauma with the Toji fight made him build literally and figuratively walls towards people, and he pigeonholed himself deeper into that “The Strongest” position. Gojo then says a lot of “no one can take away their youth..” but then forgets that these kids are already put into the ringer because they are CHILD soldiers. It’s the same way he doesn’t understand about Geto, who despite being the strongest with him, can still lash out from his trauma. Like sure yes, Gojo probably meant despite living with this shitty system, he wants that there’s still a “speck” of youth in his kids. It’s like back when he was in high school again when being the strongest duo leaves them untouchable for a moment that they can throw around their weight and be still the kids they are, but then life has to happen and they have their falling out.  It goes to show how nostalgia lenses are pretty heavy on Gojo’s eyes that especially now where we are seeing Geto panels when we get to hear his thoughts. He never gets to move on, and it’s dangerous because it self-destructs him.

It comes to the point that his students were literally offering to help him, asking him to open up that Gojo just immediately shuts them down because again, he’s stuck with the thinking that only Geto alone can be the Strongest with him, the only one who can bare the burden of being the strongest with him. Isn’t Gojo’s whole point to raise a whole generation who can become pillars of support with him? Then why, why are you still thinking of “catching up” to Geto? 

All in all, It’s constantly one step forward and backward with Gojo’s case like yes okay you acknowledge the problem and you’re trying to learn from it, but his actions doesn’t echo in actively changing it, and you know what? It makes him such a real and compelling character! He uses his past experience as a learning experience but his nostalgia surrounding it kinda bars him from fully learning from it. He himself fails to think that he’s also raised a child soldier, and there’s trauma comes with being wielded as The strongest ever since a child, thus emotionally stunting him. This mindset now gets unintentionally passed to his student who just ends up repeating the cycle.

[probably-writing-x]

Pained

JJ x Reader

Summary: Reader and JJ are in a relationship despite her father telling her to stay away from him. One day she gets a call from Sarah or Kiara that he’s in the hospital- his dad beat him within an inch of his life. Luckily her dad is somewhere on the mainland for the next two weeks so she can sneak out. She doesn’t leave his bedside for anything but using the bathroom until he can leave the hospital. Maybe he’s in surgery when she gets there, and/or has to have emergency surgery, maybe his heart stops a few times from like internal bleeding or something.

Warnings: Discussions of abusive households and extensive injuries

You wake to relative silence in the room, only disturbed by the faint sound of JJ’s snores from behind you, his breaths deep and even. You snuggle yourself back into him and lace your fingers with his arm over your chest.

It wasn’t too often that the two of you got to spend the night together, once every couple of weeks at best. He’d stay at John B’s and you’d tell your father you were staying with Sarah, only to go straight to the Chalet when you got the chance. You’d crash in the spare bed and spend the whole night wrapped in each other’s arms. You were certain it was only on these nights that JJ ever got a proper night’s sleep.

He groans behind you and tightens his hold on you, a telltale sign that he would be waking up.

“Good morning,” You speak softly, tilting down your chin to kiss his knuckles.

JJ hums, pushing himself closer against you as if he wants the two of you to become one, “Not yet.”

You giggle and shift against his arms until he eventually loosens his grip, letting you turn against his chest until you’re facing him.

“Go back to sleep if you want,” You offer, moving up a hand to push away the hair from around his forehead.

JJ shakes his head, “No you’ll have to leave soon.”

“That’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” You encourage, trailing a finger down his face.

He shakes his head again, “I want to see you before you go. Just five more seconds.”

After five short seconds, his eyes blink open and he groans at the overpowering light, wincing at the feeling.

“Good morning,” You say once more, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw.

JJ grins tiredly and wraps his arms around your waist, “Morning.”

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and you giggle, ticklish at the touch.

“Did you sleep well?” You ask him, running a hand over the back of his head.

He hums, “Best I’ve slept all week.”

JJ never told you too much about his home life, but you could sense it had been worse recently. He was sleeping less and he’d ask you to sneak out at random hours of the night when he definitely shouldn’t be awake, and he was eating less too - you could tell in his face. But, when you asked if he was okay, he’d kiss your cheek and respond ‘always’. And then he’d make a comment about how he liked not having to think about the bad stuff when he was with you, and he’d wrap his arms around you and the pair of you would forget that anything else in the world existed.

You didn’t speak to him much about your home life either. It was just you and your Dad at home, on the rich side of the Outer Banks. He owned one of the largest properties here, and you were well aware of the difference between your life and the one the Pogues had. He didn’t like you being friends with the Pogues, or associating with them at all for that matter. In fact, he thought you didn’t see them at all these days. He thought of you as his angel girl that wouldn’t be corrupted by ‘that bunch’. In particular, he hated JJ - you’d been warned to stay away from him since your father he first caught him sprinting through your yard to escape the police. You’d remembered watching him even then and smiling at the way he laughed against his troubles, the way nothing seemed to scare him.

“What are you thinking about?” JJ cuts through your thoughts, kissing along your jaw.

You hum against the contact, “That I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t,” He mumbles, voice still thick in the way only you heard in the mornings, “Just stay with me. John B won’t care if we steal this room.”

You smile, “But my father absolutely will care if I don’t come home.”

“Why?” JJ seems to spark into a new energy, hooking his leg around yours so that it flips you onto your back on the mattress, “Because he doesn’t want you hanging around with us Pogues? Let alone in bed with one of them.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure he’d kill you if he knew I was here,” You laugh, looking up at him as he looms over you.

“Maybe,” JJ shrugs, “But I’ll take my chances with you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “You’re so corny.”

He fakes a gasp as if he’s offended, “You’ll regret saying that (Y/l/n).”

“Prove it.”

———

You’re back at your house an hour later, pulling your hair around to either side of your neck to cover the marks left there.

You can just about make out the sound of your father on the phone, hoping to avoid him as you start to make your way up the curving staircase up to your room.

“(Y/n)? Is that you?” He calls out and you practically wince at the words.

“Yeah, Dad, just got home,” You call back, pausing in your tracks as he walks through from the back of the house.

“Steven I’ll call you back,” He says into his phone, quickly hanging up, “I need to talk to you.”

“I know I’m late, sorry, I just had to help Sarah to revise for a-“

“I don’t care about that,” He waves you off, “I know what you and Sarah are like.”

“Right, yeah,” You force a smile, “What is it Dad?”

He sighs deeply, “Work have asked me to help set up a project, I wasn’t supposed to be part of it but they’ve got nobody else.”

You frown - what did this have to do with you?

“And, well, it would mean Im on the mainland for two weeks,” He explains, “Now, I know you’re old enough to take care of yourself but-“

“You should go, Dad,�� You encourage, “I mean, come on, you wouldn’t trust anyone else to do the job properly.”

He laughs deeply.

“I’ll be fine here, I’ll call and text you every day if you need me to,” You smile, “It’s only a couple of weeks.”

“Now, are you absolutely sure? I’d be leaving today and I-“

“It’s fine, Dad, it sounds like they need you.”

He lets out a breath and nods, “They want me to leave as soon as possible, I should probably pack a bag.”

“Go ahead,” You say, trying to fight back your own enthusiasm at the idea of him being gone for a fortnight.

No father, no overbearing rules.

You hurry up the rest of the stairs, dropping your bag down onto the floor of your room and pulling out your phone, shooting off a text to JJ.

‘How about an empty house for two weeks? Just you and me’

You feel your heart swell at the thought, having to think about nothing else and nobody else than JJ for an entire fortnight. It felt like a pocket of heaven.

———

It’s a few hours later when your father finally leaves and you’ve still not heard back from JJ. He was terrible with his phone, you knew this. But he’d got better since the two of you had been together - on the days when your father was extra strict, this was the only communication you had with JJ. You’d tried to ring him but didn’t get a response, tried again and listened to it go to voicemail again.

If dating JJ had taught you anything, however, it was to not sweat the small stuff. He never let you worry for too long. And so, you ignore it. You turn up the music coursing through the speakers in the house and make use of the fully stocked kitchen your father had left you with, pottering around to make yourself dinner.

It wasn’t until the sun had already set that you hear your phone start ringing. You’d been curled up on the couch watching a film when you heard it start buzzing, pausing the screen to look down at your phone. But it wasn’t JJ. It was Sarah.

“Hello?” You answer, “You’ll never guess wh-“

“(Y/n)! Thank god,” She sounds breathless, panicked on the other end, “Oh god, (Y/n) somethings happened.”

“Wh- what are you talking about?” You frown, sitting up straight on the sofa.

“It’s JJ,” She sighs, “We found him at the house and he’s… he’s not doing good (Y/n).”

“What are you- what do you mean? What’s happened? Where is he?”

“It was his Dad.”

You feel your stomach drop instantly, churning, and your hands seem to go numb around the grip of your phone. You seem to lose every sense beyond the single thought in your mind. Him.

“Where is he?”

“We’re on our way to the doctor now,” Sarah explains, “Well, that guy they use as a doctor. John B said it’s safer than taking him to the hospital.”

“Just tell me where it is,” You return quickly, panic coursing through the volume in your voice.

“I’ll send you the location, just get here when you can okay?”

It’s like you’re instantly in panic mode, you grab your phone, your keys, the closest pair of shoes and a hoodie and throw yourself into your car, driving over the speed limit the entire way as you follow the directions to where Sarah had just sent you. You felt sick to your stomach, adamant that your worst nightmare was being realised.

What had happened? How bad had it been?

The questions course through your head the entire journey until you eventually catch sight of John B’s van parked up in front of a weathered rundown house just past the bit of the Cut that you knew. Sarah’s outside and her face awakens when she spots your car.

“Sarah what’s going on?” You ask as soon as you get out of the car.

Without a word, she throws her arms around you and engulfs you in her comfort - as if she knows it’s needed before you do.

“It’s not good, (Y/n). He looked awful… I mean he was just… and he wasn’t moving… and we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t know…” She drags a hand through her hair, “He’s with the doctor now, but he’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s weak, really weak. They think he might have internal bleeding, and one of his eyes is swollen shut.”

“Oh my god,” Is all you manage to force out, every breath being knocked from your lungs, gripping onto Sarah’s arms like she’s holding you up from falling.

“John B trusts this guy though, he’s going to help, okay?” She encourages, “I promise.”

“Can I- I mean, can I go in?” You ask, glancing back at the small makeshift hospital.

Sarah nods and you follow her through the open door, into a lounge that seems to have been turned into a reception. There’s a walkway through to the rest of the building but it’s blocked off with a closed door, and part of you is adamant that you don’t want to see what’s on the other side. John B stands up from one of the couches and strides over to you, wrapping his arms around you as if wanting to let you share in each other’s pain.

“Thank you for getting him here,” You mumble into his ear and he nods against your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n). I should’ve known to not let him go home on his own and-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” You sniff, pulling away from him, “I should’ve done more too. But JJ never wanted to talk about stuff like that and I just… I knew he wanted things to just be better when he was with me, like he didn’t have to think about anything. And, I don’t know, I should’ve pushed, I should’ve made him talk to me about all of that shit.”

“One thing about JJ: he’ll never do something he doesn’t want to do,” John B half smiles, “He just wanted you to be there to make him forget about all of that. That’s what you are for him.”

You shake your head, “I just can’t believe he’s-“

“(Y/n),” John B places a hand on either of your arms, “This guy is good, and JJ’s strong, he’s going to be okay.”

“Can I go in?” You let out a shaky breath and John B nods.

You wipe the tears from under your eyes and push through the door into the makeshift hospital room. JJ is laying across a hospital bed but he’s barely recognisable. His face is patched with purple bruises and cuts marked with dried blood, bruises across the exposed skin of his arms. His t-shirt has been cut open and there’s more bruising littered over his torso, contorting around his muscles. You lose all feeling in your body, feeling like you could crash to the floor at the sight. You feel a sickness bubble in your stomach, threatening to rise.

“You must be (Y/n),” A man with glasses and crazy hair glances in your direction, wheeling over a metal tray of tools you don’t recognise.

You think you manage to nod, but the movement feels numb. Somehow, you force one foot in front of the other over towards the bed, freezing once again when you’re looking at JJ closer. His eyes are closed but one looks so swollen you’re not sure it will open again. His lips are busted and blue and there’s a cut rising from his chin up towards his Cupid’s bow, splitting through lips you’re desperate to kiss better.

“(Y/n) I need you to do me a favor,” The man looks up at you, pushing his glasses up on his nose, “I need you to be strong enough for the both of you, can you do that?”

You don’t respond, not sure that your lips are capable of forming any words.

“Because JJ here is going to need all the help he can get, do you understand?” The man persists, “Now go and wait with your friends and I’ll see what I can do to fix up Mr Maybank here, is that alright darling?”

You smile a little, thinking of how JJ would instantly jump to complain about a man calling you darling. How he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you away, defending that it was just him being a ‘feminist and he absolutely almost definitely wasn’t jealous’. You’d kiss him and tell him you believed him. He’d tell you that you were his darling.

“Okay,” You whisper, looking down at JJ and letting out a shaky breath, wishing for a moment that you could trade places with him.

Your feet guide you back out of the room and into the waiting room where John B and Sarah turn to you instantly. Your legs give out then but both of them are there to catch you before you can hit the ground. They crouch down on either side of you, letting you sob into them through gasping breaths. You’re sure this is what it feels like for a heart to break, your heart breaking over a boy you were supposed to stay strong for.

———

It’s a few hours later when the doctor emerges from the room, wiping the sweat from his brow as he steps out. Sarah is asleep across the seats but you and John B bolt up as soon as you see the door open.

“I won’t lie to you kids, the situation is worse than I anticipated,” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Due to the impact against his torso, JJ seems to have some form of internal bleeding.”

“Okay, okay, so what does that mean? What can you do?”

“He’s hooked up to fluids, and he’s had a transfusion,” The doctor proceeds, “Other than that, it’s a waiting game. He’s stable but there is still work to do. For now, I’d suggest you get on home and get some rest. Hopefully JJ will be awake by the morning and you can come and see him.”

“I-“ You shake your head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unfortunately, (Y/n), there’s nothing we can do for now,” The man proceeds, “The last thing you want to do is worry yourself sick waiting here.”

“I- I don’t care. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving him.”

“(Y/n),” John B begins softly, hand touching your shoulder.

You flinch away from his touch, “I’m not going anywhere John B! I’m not leaving! I’m staying here until he wakes up.”

Tears bubble at your eyes again and John B engulfs you in a hug, holding your head to his chest.

“I can’t leave,” You whisper against him and he hums in agreement, running a hand up and down your back.

“Okay,” He pulls away from you, “I’ll take Sarah home, I’ll get some rest, I’ll be back in a few hours. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

You nod, “I’ll be fine.”

He frowns softly but takes a deep breath as if agreeing with you.

You move back to the seat you’d been in and sit back down, drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your calves. Waiting. You’d always wait.

———

Another hour or so later, the doctor comes out again and tells you this time that he’s done all he can, and it would just be a waiting game now. You hurry into the room as soon as he says you can.

JJ is still laying in the exact position he had been before, though he’s cleaned up now more than he had been. The cuts remain but their blood is confined under scabs, the bruises seem to have darkened and spread where reddened skin once had been. His breathing is shallow and supported by an oxygen tube hooked into his nose, his eyes closed.

You sit down on the chair beside his bed, glancing at the pads attached to all parts of his chest and the tubes attached to his arms, the sight making you a little weaker. You take his hand into your own, wrapping your fingers around his still digits, letting out a shaky breath. He looks so much weaker than the boy you knew, like a shell of himself.

You’re desperate for the feeling of his eyes on you, the sight of his lips curling into a smile as he sees you, the words for only you to hear escaping his mouth. You want all of the parts that make him into your JJ.

But this wasn’t him.

And you weren’t sure your heart could go much longer without him.

“Come on,” You whisper, tears soaking your words, “Cut the act Jay, you’ve pranked us all, we get it.”

The dull hum of the oxygen machine.

“If you wanted attention, you’ve got it. Okay? We’re all worried. Cut it out,” You half-laugh, the words choking in your throat.

The beeping of his heart monitor.

“You know we’ve got a free house for two weeks, it would be a real shame for you to miss it,” You continue, pressing your lips against his knuckle, “And I don’t care if it’s selfish, I just really need you to wake up, okay Jay?”

Dull ringing.

You glance up to the computer screen and feel all colour drain from your face, the sight of the heart monitor lulling into a straight line.

“Jay?” You stand up from the chair, squeezing tightly to his hand, “JJ!”

The name rips from your throat, full of every horrified emotion your body was releasing all at once.

“Doc!” You scream, “Doc help!”

The man comes hurrying into the room only seconds later, his eyes widened as if assessing everything as quickly as he can manage. You hear him mumble a string of curses under his breath as he rushes over to JJ.

“Wait outside (Y/n).”

Your entire body is trembling as you follow his orders, stumbling out of the room and dropping down against the wall outside, your breathing rapid and erratic.

Every morsel of your being is reaching out for him, wishing every bit of oxygen in you could just transfer to his lips, your heart to pump for him instead of yourself, your lungs to breathe for two.

Instead, you close your eyes and cash in on a million wishes that the beeping machine will return to a normal rhythm.

———

You’re not sure at what time anything changes, but the doctor comes outside and wakes you up from an exhausted state to tell you that JJ is stable once again. He tells you again to go home but you ignore it, hurrying into the room to return to your place beside JJ’s bed.

Your hand finds his and you squeeze any ounce of life into his cold palms, breathing shakily.

Your eyes are dropping from the lack of sleep, but you pull up a second chair beside the one you’re sat on, drawing your legs up and settling yourself down to lie across the seats beside the mattress. Your hand doesn’t once let go of JJ’s, even once you let sleep overcome you.

That’s how they find you in the morning, when John B and Sarah return with Pope and Kie. The doctor makes a comment about how this boy wouldn’t know what hit him when he woke up and saw all of these faces. Pope told him they were his real family. They all speak in hushed voices and whispers so as to not disturb you, commenting on how drained you must be and how they knew you wouldn’t leave his side. When you blink awake, you squint against the dim lights and groan at the ache in your back, your hand still locked against JJ’s.

“Hey!” Sarah smiles softly, “How are you feeling?”

You turn quickly to JJ to check on him, eyes connecting to the beating of his heart monitor. Steady. Alive.

“I’m okay,” You clear your throat, “How long have you guys been here?”

“Not long,” Kie shakes her head, “We didn’t want to disturb you.”

You smile, “I didn’t want to fall asleep but I-“

You glance over at JJ as if begging for any movement.

“I was exhausted,” You finish your sentence, dragging a hand through your tangled hair.

“I’m not surprised!” John B says, “Do you want to head out for a bit? We can stay and keep an eye on him.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” You shake your head, “I’ll stay here.”

They all look at you with solemn expressions like they want to take your hurt away. You pay no mind to it, turning to Jj and focusing solely on him, running your thumb over the skin of his hand.

“Alright, I need to do some routine tests on your friend here so could you all wait outside please,” The doctor glances in your direction, “You can stay if you’d prefer.”

The others all look between themselves and reluctantly head back outside, leaving you in the hospital quiet once again.

“Okie dokie, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” The doctor fixes his glasses, scanning the room and collecting together a few of his tools, “And I’m missing something.”

He’s mumbling more to himself but you’re clinging onto every word as if he’s about to tell you the best or worst news ever.

“I’ll be right back.”

He disappears once again and you turn to JJ, standing up from your chair and smoothing a hand over his hair, trying your best to avoid the cuts on his face for fear of hurting him.

“Come on Jay,” You whisper to yourself, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at the sight.

He looked so fragile, so young. And yet the scars on his body were shaping more trauma into him than anybody his age should have.

And then, movement.

You feel it first in your hand, the slightest, most gentle squeeze back against your fingers.

And then his eyes, fluttering just enough for you to see any difference.

A puff of air against the oxygen mask on his nose and mouth, lips parting underneath the clear plastic.

You blink a few times to convince yourself you’re not seeing things, but all at once you know it’s real. Slowly but surely, his eyes force themselves open - one opening just barely above closed, the other blinking and squinting against the lights of the room.

“Oh my god JJ!” You say through the croak in your voice.

He lets himself slowly adjust to the setting before turning his head slightly towards you, grimacing at the movement.

He goes to speak but his words get stuck on the mask covering his face. You move your hands up quickly to pull it away from his face, letting it hang just underneath his chin.

“Hey darling,” He says softly, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

You laugh softly, “Oh my god I don’t even-“

You stop yourself, shaking your head as if to clear it all away.

“Im just happy you’re here.”

JJ tries to move again and groans at the feeling, glancing down at the state of himself as if looking at someone that wasn’t him. He grimaces and tries to push himself up onto his elbows.

“Woah, woah, woah,” You place your hands on his shoulders, “Careful okay? You need to take it easy.”

He isn’t strong enough to resist against your touch but his lips curl into a slight smile, crooked against the swelling, “If you wanted to get me in bed (y/l/n) you could’ve just asked.”

You roll your eyes, sitting yourself onto the edge of his bed beside his arm, certain you’d blink yourself out of this dream if you thought about it for long enough.

The door swings open and the doctor walks in, glancing up at the sight.

“Mr Maybank! It’s good to have you back with us.”

———

It’s two days later when you’re getting JJ home. You drive him the short distance to your house and slide an arm around him to help him hobble towards the door.

You lead him up towards the bedroom, pausing on every couple of steps when he winces at the pain. For now, the broken ribs were the worst - agonising with the movement.

Eventually, you lower him down onto your bed and sit beside him, dropping down the duffle bag of his belongings that John B had collected for you.

“Glad to be out of that place?” You ask him as JJ readjusts himself on the bed.

He grunts in agreement and stretches out an arm to the other side of the mattress, “Come here.”

You crawl over to the other side of the bed and pause, “I don’t want to hu-“

“You won’t hurt me.”

You smile and lay down beside him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arm wraps around your waist. His chin rests on top of your head, pressing a quick kiss to your hair.

“JJ,” You speak into the air between you.

He hums.

“Why didn’t you tell me about everything with your Dad?”

He shifts beneath you as if uncertain, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want you to worry.”

You lean up onto your elbow and look at him, “Of course I was going to worry! That man is awful, Jay. I can’t believe you had to deal with that. I mean the thought of you… and him… and when John B found you I-“

Your lips begin to tremble.

“Hey, hey,” JJ brings up a hand to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin, “I’m here. Okay? I’m here and I’m okay.”

You let out a shaky breath, “I was so scared seeing you like that Jay. I didn’t know what was going to happen to you.”

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes waiting until they find your gaze, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips, rough and cautious against his healing injuries. You pull away and he smiles that crooked smile you’d started to get used to.

“So, what’s this about you having an empty house?”

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Hello! Are you still doing the 24 touch prompts? If yes, can I request 15 with Eskel and Jaskier, please?

Sorry for the wait!!! ❤️

Jaskier and Eskel 15 - gently kissing the others knuckles 😊.

“Just so you know, it feels really bizarre being on the other side of this particular scenario.” Jaskier commented as he gently manipulated a hand much larger than his own to better assess the damage.

One of the inn patrons had recognised Jaskier even without his usual, grumpy travel companion present. Usually this would be something to make the bard preen like the bird Geralt often compared him to but unfortunately, this same prick chose to heckle him throughout his entire set and then decided to start with the “Witcher’s whore” comments when he’d finished, which had Jaskier ready to give this already rather unbecoming fellow a broken nose to go with his sallow complexion (it wasn’t the insult itself per se, but Jaskier was no Saint and a man could only turn the other cheek so many times in one night). Until a semi familiar blur of black and red beat him to it, and that was apparently how Eskel decided to let the bard know that he was in town.

Luckily for them, the innkeeper saw the sense in not even trying to throw Jaskier out now that one of his non-human companions had made an appearance and hastily agreed that the other had bought it on himself, making no move to try and aid the now unconscious and bleeding man as Jaskier pulled Eskel up the stairs behind him, the Witcher stammering out half an apology although who exactly it was directed to, Jaskier couldn’t say.

That’s how they ended up in their current position in Jaskier’s room, both of them perched on the edge of the bed with Jaskier still keeping hold of Eskel’s hand as he leaned over to grab the small bottle of spirit he used as a disinfectant after proclaiming the others knuckles to be just grazed from the force of his punch.

“I could have told you that about ten minutes ago, Jaskier. It’ll be healed in a couple of hours.” Eskel stated.

“Oh, hush you. What would Geralt say if he found out I left his brother all hurt and bloody? Especially when it happened because he was defending my honour.” Jaskier proceeded to gently dab at the split skin across Eskel’s knuckles, seemingly unaware of how much effort it was taking his patient to not give into temptation and wrap his fingers around the smaller, softer hand in response.

“Like he’s never punched anyone for you before.”

Jaskier gave a huff of a laugh, “He doesn’t have to fight all my battles for me, and neither do you.” He paused to boop the end of Eskel’s nose, “I’m a big boy. I can deal with a few town assholes throwing insults at me. You didn’t have to get involved.”

“Hello Pot, have you met Kettle?” Eskel asked dryly, causing Jaskier to bluster slightly at being called out, “Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Oh, I see how it is. It’s fine when you lot say that.” Jaskier smirked, “Done! And...you didn’t have to, but it doesn’t mean I’m not grateful that you did. Thank you for being so gallant, dear Witcher.”

 Eskel felt his face heat up as Jaskier pressed a kiss to his now treated knuckles like he was the love interest in one of those romance stories and not some huge, scarred Witcher,  “Seriously though. Can we get back to the usual dynamic between myself and Witchers? I’m not sure I’m entirely liking this role reversal.”

 

Eskel knocked on the doorframe after purposely making his footsteps louder to give ample warning but even so, Jaskier still flinched where he was sat on the examination table. Curling his now bandaged hands against his chest as best as he could seemingly on reflex.

“Ah, Eskel! Everything alright?” He asked with forced brightness.

“Something we should have asked you much sooner.”  He said gently as he came further into the room, trying to make himself look as small as he could and keeping his movements slow and deliberate. Between the torture and the imprisonment, the last thing he wanted was to make the bard feel trapped again, “May I?” He held a hand out palm upwards between them, leaving Jaskier the choice of whether to close the distance or not.

Jaskier hesitated before reaching out and placing one hand into Eskel’s, the Witcher running the ends of his fingers over skin and linen as delicately as if he were stroking a birds wing. He didn’t know every single detail but he knew enough from the very loud, very animated ‘discussion’ that had occurred between wolf, witch and bard earlier that day and has ended in Jaskier being dragged by the elbow to the infirmary.

“You didn’t tell him anything.”

The wonder in Eskel’s voice must have sounded too much like disbelief, as Jaskier shook his head rapidly in response, “Nothing. I promise I didn’t tell him anything about here, or Geralt, or Ciri. I-”

Eskel gently shushed him, feeling Jaskier's pulse jumping rabbit quick in his wrist underneath his fingers. He was suddenly struck by the desire to press a kiss to the tips of those poor, talented fingers but considering they were currently hidden away under layers of salve and bandage....

He brushed his lips against Jaskier’s knuckles, holding the gaze of wide, blue eyes as he did so and wondering briefly if the hitch in Jaskier’s breathing was a product of his imagination.

“Thank you for being so brave, dear bard.”

[fictionalmenxyn]

Your writing is lovely! Would you do something like reader being prone to nosebleeds?(I've had a few nasty incidents of getting them when I'm stressed and it makes me super self-concious lol)

Of course I can do this for you! :)

Tw: Blood

Ghost

He was sat on a chair around a table with Soap and Price

You were walking into the break room after writing a stressful load of paper work

You had already been really stressed from meetings and decision making as your also a Lt

You wanted to grab a water so you could stop the headache you currently have

So going over to the fridge you grabbed a water from a mini fridge

And as you were about to open it you felt a droplet on your hand

Looking down to see the blood you huffed hating that it would always happen

You turned around as you grabbed some paper towels

Ghost saw you walking over with you holding a paper towels on your face

He obviously raise an eyebrow and asked “you alright, love?”

You spoke “yeah, just a nose bleed thats all” Ghost was concerned and asked “did anyone hurt you?” You replied “no, I get them when I’m stressed all the time”

He’s so confused as he’s never seen them that much but come to think about it he doesn’t see you that stressed often

Soap

You and him were out on a walk having a somewhat nicer day than this morning. It was a stressful start to the day but it somewhat got better

As you were both walking you had decided that taking a hike on the hillside closest to base was a nice idea to have a fresh start after the busyness of this morning

You had spotted a cool looking building in the distance and spoke “Soap look” as you pointed out you had felt something drop onto your hand

Soap was looking at the area you had pointed to while you were looking at the blood on your hand

You quickly asked “hey, do you have any tissues?” He turned to you thinking you were about to see until he spotted your nose bleeding

He panicked slightly and asked “how did that happen?” You spoke “I get them often, don’t panic” he was still confused but searched his bag and luckily he had some tissues in there

Later that walk you explained how if you were stressed and your body couldn’t take anymore stress it would give you a nose bleed as a ‘sign’ that you need a break

Gaz

You were walking from the board office after a presentation you had just presented in front of new recruits

It was somewhat stressful as you weren’t a fan of presenting anyways but Laswell told you it would help her and Price out

You left the boarding office and walked towards the brake room to grab some food and a drink for yourself

But as you were walking you felt something drip onto your shirt, you thought it was a leak cause someone the other day mentioned there was a leak somewhere in the base

So you look up to see nothing, no patchy ceiling nor water marks

You looked at your shirt and pulled it out a bit then you saw a few drops of blood on your shirt

Then you felt it on your lip so you touched just under your nose and saw blood on your fingers

You looked around and saw “Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick” on a door

You rushed over and knocked the door, you could hear his boots and then watched as he revealed himself behind the door

He noticed the blood on you instantly and moved to the side while asking “you alright babe? No one hit you have they?” You shook your head

Rushing into the bathroom you grabbed some toilet paper, placing it in your nose you washed your hands

Gaz came over and placed a hand on the small of your back and asked “how did this happen? Eh?” You replied “got over stressed, this happens a lot when I’m stressed”

Gaz nodded and spoke “I’ll get you a shirt” he went over and grabbed one of his shorts and gave it to you

Price

He was in his office at the time this happened

You were in the break room finishing off your paper work to hand over to Price

Once you had finished you headed straight to his office

Walking over to the door you had knocked and peaked your head through and spoke “hey love?”

He replied “hey, come in” you let yourself in and he raised an eyebrow

You asked “what’s wrong?” He stood up and spoke “come here a second” you walked over a little nervous thinking you’ve done something wrong

Then he placed his index (pointing) finger under your chin and lifted your head so he could see better and then he spoke “you have a nose bleed”

You wiped it and spoke “oh” he asked “what caused it?” You replied “over worked myself” Price spoke “alright, here… have some tissues” he handed you a box and you grabbed one

He asked “so me a favour” you nodded as you wiped the blood

He replied “don’t over work yourself, alright love?” You nodded

He gave you a famous smile and a kiss on the cheek and spoke “go to my room and get yourself a clean shirt” you nodded and left

Alejandro

You were in the living room while he was in the kitchen cooking you both dinner

You had been working for a solid two hours on your military prep and corse work for the new recruits

You were stressing so much since the deadline was tomorrow and you were about the third of the way done

You felt as if you had a cold so you wiped your nose with your hand and then saw the red smeared across you hand

You rolled your eyes and headed over to the kitchen to grab some kitchen roll

Walking in you spoke “hey dear, is there any kitchen roll?” He turned and spoke “yeah, over on the dining table” you thanked him and then he spoke “did you spill you coffee?”

You replied “nah, I got a nose bleed” he turned around and looked sorrowful for you

You smiled and spoke “don’t need to look so pitiful at me Ale, I get them all the time it’s no different” he raised an eyebrow then you explained it to him

Rudy

You were both watching tv, it was a nice day so you wore some shorts

You were sat next to Rudy as you watched (your favourite show/movie) and you were enjoying this peaceful time before your big and important meeting with Laswell and some other important people

You had been worrying for the past two days and it’s starting to get the better of you

You were watching the movie until you felt something drip onto your leg

Looking down you spotted a droplet of blood, you knew that you had worried yourself too much

So you tapped your lip and saw some blood on your finger tip

You looked over to Rudy and asked “do you have any tissues on you?” He looked over and instantly got worried “omg what happened?”

You replied “I got a nose bleed for making myself worry about later” he nodded and left the room and came back with tissues

He handed them to you and then asked “do you get them often?” You nodded and he asked “because you worry?” You spoke “yeah had them since I was young, so no need to worry really”

He nodded and gave you a hug then spoke “don’t worry about that meeting my love, you’ll do just fine”

Hope you enjoyed:)

Have a good day/night!

Requests are open! May take time but it is open :)

[turtleblogatlast]

So concerning Raph's mental state- has Leo, or the others, ever walked in on him scratching at his eye? And if so, how did each of them react?

[ cw: trauma / self harm mention / ]

Donnie and Mikey have walked in on him more than once over the six years after the invasion. They’ve since learned to talk him out of his panic before he gets too far to the point of bleeding, but luckily he doesn’t get like this too often anymore.

It’s a hot second before Leo witnesses this himself, and as luck would have it, it’s during a time where he wasn’t wearing his neck bandages.

So his bruised neck was on full display for Raph to witness and, to Raph’s panicked state of mind, that was all the confirmation he needed that Raph was still taken over, because Leo was here, hurt, and Raph wanted him to stop being hurt, to stop being hurt by Raph, and the last time he managed that, all he had to do was rip out the infection.

Leo’s horrified, and he’s not strong enough to stop his brother from scratching his own face, his own eye, and this is one of the Only times that Leo’s prison gets the better of him.

His eyes go dark, his pupils glow, and he

just

looks.

Raph stops after that, and Leo has to force himself to stop too.

The chill of the prison is enough to slowly bring Raph out of it, but the feeling of death haunting your very soul is not a great trade off.

They’re both quiet as Leo dresses Raph’s wound.

Then they hug each other tightly, each shaking from the aftermath of memories both recent and long ago.

Leo makes sure to keep his neck covered after that.

[lgbtqasacrew]

could i request an izzy x reader where they’re cleaning each other up after a raid? all fluff and falling asleep together

Summary: Izzy and reader clean up after a raid

Relationships: Izzy x reader

Word count: 800+

Warnings: Mentions of injury and pirate medical care

“Hold still you twat,” Izzy chastices as you squirm away from his attempt to clean up the cut on your forehead.

“Can’t help it, stings.” You pout.

Izzy rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face, “it’s gonna sting love it’s pure alcohol, just hold still.”

You manage to stay still just long enough for Izzy to clean your cut, you’ll never get used to that deep sting that sets your teeth on edge.

Izzy moves away slightly to inspect the wound, “shouldn’t need stitches luckily but it might scar m’afraid.”

“Will I still look hot?” you tease, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend.

“Shut up,” he grumbles as he swats at you playfully. “How did you even get that cut anyway?”

You shrug, “just some idiot, he got a bit overexcited with his knife, waving it around like a fucking magic wand.”

You notice his frown, touched by how protective he is of you, as you are of him. But you both know that you can more than handle yourself. Still it’s nice to have someone care about you so much, a familiar feeling since you joined The Revenge.

“Don’t worry babe, I stabbed him straight in the chest.”

“That’s my y/n.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. “Just be careful though okay, I can’t-“ He doesn’t finish that sentence, he doesn’t need to, I cant lose you. He turns around before you can see the glassiness in his eyes.

Although you’re both more than aware of the dangerous lifestyle you’ve both found yourself in, it can be hard to watch your loved one be put in danger so often, and it definitely never gets any easier.

It’s only now when his back is to you that you see the blood soaking into his shirt. You move to lift the shirt up before he can stop you, revealing a large gash on his right side.

“You idiot, you were worrying about a teeny little cut on my forehead when you’re walking around with this.”

Izzy looks down at the cut as if he’d forgotten it was even there, “It’s fine.”

“No it’s not fine, come sit down.” You usher him back to the bed you were both previously sitting on so you can have a better look at the injury.

“You really don’t need to make a fuss.” Izzy grumbles.

“Like how you didn’t make a fuss about my head?”

Izzy doesn’t answer that, you take it as a go ahead to have a closer look at the wound. It’s quite a deep cut, looks like it’ll definitely need stitches.

“Were you just gonna wait until you bled out?” You ask him.

“Stop being so dramatic, I wasn’t gonna bleed out. I would’ve had Roach look at it later.” When he’d made sure you were okay he didn’t add.

You would chastise him for putting everyone else first but you know he takes his role as First Mate incredibly seriously, something you’ve always admired about him. Instead you just bite your tongue and go get Roach to help fix him up.

You watch as Roach tends to Izzy, the latter keeping a stoic expression as he’s stitched up. You know it’s for your benefit, he doesn’t want to worry you.

“All done, light duties only for the next few days, don’t want you to pop those stitches.” Roach says.

You thank Roach, he gives you a quick nod in return before leaving you and Izzy to it.

“I’m just gonna go check on the crew.” Izzy announces as he stands from his chair.

“Uh uh no you don’t,” you reply, guiding him to the bed instead.

“Roach said I could still do light duties.” Izzy argues.

“The crew will be fine for one evening, just lie down and relax with me.”

Izzy knew there was no point arguing with you, and truthfully he didn’t really want to, he was feeling kinda sore and always enjoys relaxing with you. He lays on his uninjured side, leaving room for you to snuggle in beside him.

You lay down beside him, allowing him to pull you closer until you’re nestled against his chest, one of your favourite places to be. You take in his scent as you lay there, your eyes fluttering closed as you let the day melt away.

Tomorrow’s another day, but tonight you’ll enjoy laying next to the man you love knowing that you’ve both survived another day.

“Goodnight, Israel.” You whisper, but you’re only met with a soft snore.

You smile to yourself, delighted that he feels so safe in your presence, just as you feel safe in his. You fall asleep that night knowing that you would do anything for this man, and no doubt in your mind that he would do the same.

[slattern-femina]

we become the flowers

A/N: yet another upload from my ao3 bc I like writing about ghouls <3

Summary:

Phantom had a hard day.

A hard day is followed by an accident, leaving him bloody and sore, and feeling like a stupid little ghoul who takes up too much space, while being a waste of space.

Luckily- three ghouls happen to come to the rescue to remind Bug how truly special he is. Rain, Mountain, and Dew are here to save the day.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Phantom didn’t know how he got hurt. 

Well, he did know. He was just embarrassed to admit it. It was just him being clumsy, tripping and falling down the stairs of the abbey in the nighttime when it was dark because he wanted water. 

Today was hard. He felt like he made countless mistakes during rehearsals. While no one chewed him out, he could see their weary eyes and sighs every time they had to restart. 

He flinched every time. God, why was he so useless? 

He had opted out of eating dinner- instead hiding in his room. No one had come to get him- why would they? 

He sat curled up on his bed, hidden under piles of blankets and pillows, in one of Dew’s old band shirts. Even Dew didn’t come up. He must be tired of him. 

A few hours later, when he finally emerged to get water and subsequently tumbled, he smacked his head on the stairs and fell on his ankle, rolling it, before flailing on the floor, his ribs taking a beating from the unforgiving stone stairs. 

“Ah- crap,” He moans and sits up in an embarrassing pile on the floor. He frowns, his lips going into a deep pout, as he feels so stupid for doing that—dumb feet. 

He can feel something hot and wet spilling out of the gash on his eyebrow and his nose. He runs his thumb over the blood, frowning. He doesn’t bleed often- it’s a foreign feeling to him. It’s a dark burgundy, running down his purple fingers and into his mouth. It tastes like pennies, like copper. 

He scrambles up - there’s a bathroom just off the rec room down the hall, he can slip in there and get rid of the blood. 

He doesn’t want anyone to see him, because it was a stupid and clumsy mistake for him to have done.

He feels like he always makes mistakes. So many mistakes. 

He’s just a useless, stupid ghoul. 

He tiptoes past the room, hearing Dewdrop’s and Mountain’s laugh, and Rain talking. The three are sitting on the couch in front of the fire, Rain sitting with his legs propped on Mountain, and Dew perched on the back of the couch. The small fire ghoul whacks Mountain with his tail. 

Phantom takes a breath and tries to jolt past the rec room without them seeing him. 

Mountain hears Phantom’s footsteps as he’s trying to sneak by. The large ghoul turns in his direction, grinning. “Hey- little bug, come settle a bet for us, also, we have your dinner,”

Phantom shakes his head and bolts- down to the bathroom and away from them before they can notice his stupid face, his feet hurrying, causing a rattling noise to be heard in the hall. 

All three of them quikly look curiously after him. Bug never does that, he never runs away from them. 

It’s Dewdrop who notices drops of blood on the floor and his heart sinks. “Oh, shit-“ he breathes before launching himself over the couch and dashing after the quintessence ghoul, Mountain and Rain in tow. 

Mountain is quickest, slipping into the bathroom before Phantom can shut the door. The startled ghoul tries to hide his face, humiliated and sore, but soft blue hands grab him, tugging it away so they can see the damage done. Rain stares at him intently, worried etched in his features. 

All three ghouls gasp- as blood is streaming down the purple ghoul’s face, from his eyebrows to nose, and his eye is swelling and a bruise forming on his cheek. The blood covers his pretty freckles, marring him a muddy brown on his sweet face. 

“Bug- what happened?! Did someone do this to you?!” Mountain nearly screams as he grabs a tissue and wipes his face. 

Phantom is acutely aware of how much pain he is in, and how humiliated he is, and tears start welling in his eyes and he just shakes his head. “No. No… You’ll think I’m so stupid,” Phantom chokes out. Of course, they would think he’s dumb for making such a trivial mistake. Young, dumb, a poor excuse of a quintessence ghoul after they had someone like Aether. 

He’s just not enough. Phantom tries to pull away, but Mountain gently grabs his waist, steadying him and holding him close to his huge body. The giant man leans down, so he is level with Phantom. “Hey. Don’t do that, don’t close yourself off from us,”

Dew can see the spiralling of the sweet ghoul, and he grabs him tight. Phantom is still learning how to navigate his world and it brings heavy emotions that he struggles to grapple with. “Did you have an accident?”

Phantom finally breaks down, amethyst tears rolling down his face, mingling with the blood. Dew is holding his hands away from his face and Phantom finally nods, sniffling. “You must think I’m so stupid,” 

Mountain frowns at the accusation. “Why would you say that…”

“I fuck up all the time,” Phantom snuffles quietly, wiping his face. 

Rain is beside him, leaning over, his fingers gently grazing over the mating bite on the boy's pretty freckled neck, and Phantom shivers.  

“Phantom, don’t be upset- I fuck up all the time,” Rain tries to assure quietly by calling out his own faults. 

Dew nods, his thumb wiping the tears away on his cheek. “Yeah, bug, don't worry. Rain is right, he does fuck up all the time, and we still love him," 

“Jackass,” Rain sneers and swats Dew hard on the head, before turning back to look at Phantom, and he begins sponging the blood away. 

“Why are you feeling like this all of a sudden?” Rain asks quietly, tucking Phantom’s dark curl behind his ear. 

Phantom just sighs and looks at the ground, not wanting to talk anymore for the time being. Rain recognizes his behaviour, and he frowns, before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the little bug’s. 

He can’t fix the bug’s sometimes fragile self-confidence, he wishes he could. But; he does know how he, Dew, and Mountain can help. 

“Come on. We haven’t had a date night for you in a while, and you deserve it,” Rain says firmly, grabbing Phantom’s hips and spinning him out of the bathroom. 

The quintessence ghoul squeals in surprise. “Hey, wait- what?!” 

Dew smiles, his hand resting on the small of Phantom’s back. “Fucking great idea, let’s go,”

And with that, all three quickly fall into place. Mountain goes to the kitchen, gathering some food that he knows Phantom likes. Chips, apples, and sandwiches. He also grabs a bottle of whiskey. 

The giant shuffles back up to Dew’s room; where they typically congregate when in a group. Dew has turned his little quarters into a cozy, warm nest. The entire room is covered in pillows and blankets; rich, soft fabrics. Records lay strewn about, with his guitars showcased and papers with music notes on each surface. 

Rain is sitting with Phantom in the nest, tucking the young ghoul into the burgundy blankets. Both ghouls are in thick hoodies, with the hoods up, and curl up together. Dew is pulling his long blond hair up, to keep it out of Rain’s sometimes twitching fingers. Dew grabs the laptop he has and begins scrolling through the movies before settling on a stupid, animated comedy that none of them will be watching. 

Mountain walks over, kneeling beside Phantom and piling a plate full of food to make up for the missed dinner. Phantom pokes out, tentatively eating small bites as he still feels emotional. Dew slides in between Phantom and Mountain, and the large earth ghoul presses kisses along Phantom’s cheekbones, nearly crushing Dew in the process. 

The stompy fire ghoul frowns and elbows Mount in the ribs. “Hey! Don’t squish me! You can kiss him after,” Dew snaps and curls into Phantom’s waist, one arm strewn over the boy as he eats. 

Rain glances at the two, before he turns and focuses on Phantom. The water ghoul and bug have a special bond, more so than anyone else. Besides Dew, Rain and Phantom bonded so quickly, and it was Rain who gave Phantom his first mating bite. He feels the young ghoul so vivdly- and the water ghoul frowns at how harsh Phantom is being on himself. 

“You know we are proud of you, right?” Rain asks quietly, his tone softer than normal. 

Phantom sighs, shaking his head. “No… you had Aether- how can I ever be him-”

Rain puts his hand on Phantom’s knee, squeezing it hard. “Bug, we love Aether. But we don’t want you to be Aether. We want you to be you . We just want bug. We don’t want you to try to be anyone else because you don’t need to be. You are you. And that’s everything you need to be,” 

Phantom buries his face into his hoodie, covering the tears, but the words sink in. 

They just want him to be him. And he is good enough. 

Phantom has to bite down tears, as the waves of emotion wash over him. Phantom always feels emotions heavily, they’re intense for the powerful ghoul. 

Rain wraps his long arms around the ghoul's torso as he tugs the bug closer to him, hugging him tightly into his torso and letting him cry as he needs to. Rain sighs heavily, kissing Phantom’s forehead. There’s a noticeable sag in his shoulders and the thought the boy could be anything other than joyful practically breaks his heart.

Dew and Mountain also end up hugging him, whatever part they can reach. Mountain just wrapped his huge arms around Dew and Phantom, nuzzling his face into the fire ghoul's neck. 

“Oh! I forgot I got you something,” Dew exclaims and wriggles out from under the pile of arms and blankets, not an easy task, considering Phantom pouts and tries to hold on to him. 

With as much grace as a newborn giraffe, Dew finally tumbles out of bed, before nearly crashing face-first into the ground. “Shitfuckdammit-” and is only saved by Mountain’s hand steadying his waist. 

Phantom watches him; he trips and falls too. 

Dewdrop goes to his dresser, yanking open the oak doors, before pulling out a bouquet of flowers. Phantom sits up, the bright colours attracting his gaze immediately. Cirrus often refers to Phantom as a magpie, with his fascination for bright colours and shiny things. A young soul- seeing the world for the first time through beautiful, bright eyes. 

Dew brings over the bouquet consisting of pink, red, yellow, and orange blooms and is laced with fragrant eucalyptus leaves. It was the most beautiful bouquet Phantom had ever seen. His hands reach for it, gasping happily as Dew hands it to him. 

Mountain smirks. “Oh Dew, you romantic. I knew you love shit like that,” 

Dew blushes, steam rising out of his ears. “Shut up, Mount. It’s because he likes pretty things,” 

Phantom is enthralled in the blooms but nods at Dew’s words. “That’s why I like you so much,” the quintessence ghoul says nonchalantly. 

Dew’s cheeks flame red. 

As Dew nestles back beside his bug, warmth and light seem to once again seep out of Phantom. It spills into the small living area, making the room warm and full of life again. 

Rain watches carefully; it almost seems like things seem to come to life around the quintessence ghoul, the flowers, despite being cut and dead, nearly perk up in his hands. Interesting, as if he quietly instructed them to. 

Phantom begins pressing fevered kisses to Dew’s lips, nearly ignoring the other two, but Rain just glances at Mountain and shrugs, before crawling over to get into the earth ghoul's lap, his hands going to his sandy hair as he kisses him, greedily, too. 

Mountain moans, as Phantom’s hands begin running down Dew’s tight stomach, making the fire ghoul whine. “Well, I guess Phantom feels better,” 

Rain unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a swig, before pouring some into Mountain’s mouth. “Yep, he sure does. Go us. Now let’s go fuck,” 

“ Ah . My ever-romantic water ghoul.”

originally on: we become the flowers - hiraethnefarious - Ghost (Sweden Band) [Archive of Our Own]

[alexiethymia]

celebration

summary: [Pre-SS] The girl – Rangiku – doesn’t smile.

Gin doesn’t know why it bothers him more than it should.

[read on ao3]

The girl, he learned seven days since they started staying together that her name was Rangiku, doesn’t smile.

Gin doesn’t know why he gives it more thought than he should. It should be enough that he was feeding her and that she was some semblance of alive. Until now, he still doesn’t know what came over him and why he suddenly picked her up. It was a whim, like most of his actions tended to be driven by. It’s not as if he had a purpose. It was enough that he was eating and some semblance of alive.

But now, he actually had to plan for things. The first time he went outside to get some food for them, he thought she was asleep. When he felt a small hand gripping his arm tightly enough to bruise, he was only mildly shocked. For the first time there was something different in her eyes aside from blankness - panic, desperation. And he feels something unfamiliar rise in response, something sharp and poisonous before it subsides. Patting her golden hair, he reassures her, not minding her bruising grip, “It’s fine, Rangiku. I’ll come back.” Huh, that was new. He’d never had anyone to comfort before.

Her grip loosened, but her liquid eyes still gripped him. Her name suited her. She was a white flower stuck in the mud.

Her expressions don’t change much in the days, eventually months, that they stay together. But there is a spark in a brief moment. It’s as if she’s been reborn when he tells her the day they met would be her new birthday. She doesn’t seem to mind sharing that with him just as she didn’t mind sharing his favorite persimmons. Or maybe it became his favorite with how often they ate it together. Something he only ate for necessity turned into something he actually liked.

He looked at her eating persimmons. It wasn’t enough. This wasn’t enough for her.

Every time he thought he was giving her something, it turned out she was giving him something much more precious.

By the time her birthday came around, in other words the anniversary of the day they first met, he decided to try for something more special.

By the time he arrived back at their place, he was licking a cut on his thumb. He hid the gash on his forearm so he wouldn’t worry her. He was a bit sloppy this time around, getting caught before he could escape. He still saw the black spots as the burly man pressed meaty thumbs onto his throat. Luckily, he had two bottles in his hand. He smashed one over the man’s head. 

Later as he stood over the bleeding bastard, he could only think, what a waste. At least there was one more to share.

“Rangiku.” Strange, the smile he wore now was the same, and also not. He thought she’d be happy to see him, or at least her own version of happy, where she’d be awake, eyes wide and open, instead of burrowing under the covers.

He wasn’t fazed by anything, but he had to admit to being surprised at suddenly finding his arms filled with girl. She was still a bit weak but she still pounded furiously against his chest.

“Where were you?! Gin, it’s been a week.”

He makes sure to hide his arm further behind. He doesn’t mind her anger. It’s the most spirit he’s seen in her in a year. And oh, how strange, before her he wouldn’t have even known if an entire decade had passed. That must be why she was so angry at a week.

He doesn’t mind the anger, but he does mind the tears. Even back then, she hadn’t cried. But for some reason, her tears also make him…happy. He wonders if there’s something wrong with him to think that. He doesn’t mind other people’s tears, whether he stole from them or they begged him to stop. It would be more accurate to say that he didn’t care about them. But Rangiku’s tears made him happy.

Still it would be bad if she didn’t stop crying. She’d get dehydrated and water was hard to find.

“I’m sorry, Rangiku,” Sure that that would be enough placate her, he suddenly places the bottle in her hands to distract her, “I got you something. Happy Birthday.”

“Huh,” she asks, tear drops still clinging to her eyelashes, “What’s this?”

“It’s sake. Let’s celebrate.”

It’s a paltry celebration, with only sake and persimmons. Rangiku even scrunches her nose at sniffing the contents of the bottle, but Gin takes a hearty gulp showing her how it’s done. Rangiku still looked unsure but she still followed after him just like she always did. When she hiccups, he grins, teeth showing.

Between the both of them, they polish off the small bottle. She seems looser somehow, eyes more liquid than ever as she looks at him with her chin on her wrapped knees. Suddenly, miraculously, she laughs.

It is bright, it is loose, it is free.

Gin opens his eyes in shock.

“You’ve got such pretty eyes, Gin. Why don’t you show them off more,” she says smiling slyly.

Getting a hold of himself, he pats her on the shoulders. “Looks like it’s time for sleep, Rangiku.”

“Nooooo,” she whines, clinging to him, “I want to talk to Gin more. If I sleep, you’ll go away again.”

He laughs. “How about this? It’s your birthday. Why don’t you make a wish?”

She pouts, thinking he wasn’t taking her seriously. “I wish you’d stay with me forever. I wish you wouldn’t leave me behind and go to wherever it is you go off to.”

He smiled softly down at her, easing her down the cot before she noticed. He couldn’t promise her that. He’ll leave her as many times as it takes as long as she survives. But it was her birthday, so he could promise her tonight. “I promise I’ll still be here in the morning,” he pats her over the hand holding his in a death grip, “Go to sleep, Rangiku.”

Finally satisfied that he wouldn’t go anywhere, she drifts off to what he hopes is a dreamless sleep. Left alone, he plans and calculates.

That was Rangiku, bright and playful. She should always be smiling and laughing. He’ll tuck away his selfish desire for her tears in the recesses of his soul. It makes him happy, but he also hates the sight of them. But for her to be happy, he had to tuck away his own. It would blunt him if he forgot himself in this comfortable life with her. Someone had turned her into that shell. Someone had been responsible. Opening his eyes like slits in the darkness, he lets the smile fall as he stared at the firelight.

He would never forgive anyone who made her cry.

He replayed her tears from earlier in his mind.

Even himself.  

…

“How rare, taichou. I didn’t know you drank sake.”

“What d’ya mean, Izuru? I have some once in a while. It goes perfectly with persimmons.”

Kira tried to hide his distaste for his captain’s preferred snack, before remembering something, “I almost forgot, Ichimaru-taichou. The vice-captains are having a get-together. Looks like it’s someone’s birthday.” He was still a bit new at this and knew only his peers from back at the Academy. It might be a chance to find out more.

A subtle pause before smoothly picking up another piece. Ichimaru-taichou turns one of those enigmatic smiles right at him. “Take the rest of the night off, Izuru. Enjoy.”

“Hai!” Kira bows energetically. How generous of his captain.

Absentmindedly, Gin waves his lieutenant off. Alone in the dark, he drinks his sake in celebration.  

[ogdoadfates]

It was only a cough: CH# 10 Thunderwave

Here it is! The long awaited final chapter of 'It was only a cough'! Wow, this is....wow. My apocalypse au was the first au I ever really talked about and one that got a fair bit of attention too!! So this is kinda well amazing! Now 'It was only a cough' is finished but my apocalypse au is far from done~ At some point I do plan on doing a long fic for my Apocalypse au but for now we'll just be doing some prompts/drabbles. Thank you all so much for reading this fic of mine, it means so much to me! Ao3 link like usual!

Vax is soaked, he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding from somewhere and he’s not only going to have nightmares once he finally goes to sleep but be massively sore when they inevitably wake him up. It takes what feels like hours but most likely was only a few minutes to get to the van. Luckily it seems Percy had heard him cause the first thing he hears after launching him and his sister into the van is the strong thuming pur of the engine coming to life. 

As soon as the backdoors close Percy hits the gas, it jostles them all, yelps and a bark from Trinket fill the air for a second before everyone is suddenly in motion again, like a bird desperate to move for standing still means death. It’s blurs of hands on people's bodies and items being thrown about. Someone shouts that Grogs fine, no bites, which is a miracle considering how the big man was holding off a good-sized hoard. Pike has his sister’s shirt pulled up, the wound looks grotesque but as she uses a towel to clean it up it looks nowhere as bad as he’d feared. His mind swims, it rushes back and forth between the now and the past, even going further than the hospital. His head is loud but simulatiously quiet, he doesn’t return to the present till he feels shaking fingers touch his side.

All at once everything snaps back into place and god did everything hurt, his vision threatened to blur again but he still feels those shaking hands on him, now more firmly grasping him with a sweet yet panicked small voice trying to reach him. Vax forces his breathing to calm, slowly but surely all his senses coming back.

“Vax?” Keyleth’s voice is shaking and it makes his racing heart still like a rabbit caught mid-run in a snare. Finally, he turns to face her. She's scared, panicked, her face is ravished with worry and anxiety. He can feel his few wounds ache but they don’t compare to the hurt he feels for Keyleth and his own sister. One is in mental agony and one in physical pain but they are alive. All of them are, it’s this notion this fact that lets him give her a true reassuring smile, one that she can tell is not just to placate her. It doesn’t calm her completely, she keeps her hands on him, more firmly on him if anything, still a slight shake to her but he can tell at the very least her panic has lessened. It takes a moment for Vax to drag his attention away from Keyleth, his gaze goes straight to his twin. 

Pike stays close to Vex, poking and checking over the bandage they’d put on her side, it’s not bleeding too much which is a good sign. Vex has been hurt worse before and luckily this time they have more than enough medical supplies that none of them will have any lasting issues from their current wounds. Vax would much rather forget about the time they had no supplies and Grog had taken a massive hit to his back, the scar still haunts them all. To be fair just about any scar nowadays is just another horror story waiting for them to notice again so its haunting lullaby may find them again in their sleep but at least these new ones they’ll get will be small enough that they’ll most likely not notice them as often.

A loud boom of thunder drags Vax out of his thoughts and causes everyone in the van to fall in a sudden hush, only the torrent of rain against metal and the lumbering roll of its aftermath fills the space with noise. The white noise leaves them all to look at each other, taking stock of each other's conditions. Vax almost missed the wince from Pike before she carefully manoeuvered her way over to him, her gaze locked on some spot on his stomach. Looking down it suddenly makes sense why Keyleth was still shaking. Blood slowly trickles from the tares in his skin and around a few small specs of broken glass that must’ve dug their way into his skin from the ground when they’d made their grand escape from the grotesque-infested hospital.

It hurts and stings when Pike slowly and carefully extracts the small shards from his flesh, Keyleth moving her hands to take one of his, offering him the little comfort that she can provide in this moment.

~~~~

It’s times like these that Percy wished he had contacts but just like every other time and every time to come he’ll have to make do. Even if he can barely see the road through the blinding rain and his fogging glasses. He desperately wants to turn around, to see if Vex and everyone else are alright but his attention must remain forward.

It’s so strange how just months ago he and Vex had been talking about going on a road trip to his hometown, just the two of them, and how after their return they’d finally tell the others about how they’re dating, have been dating for a while and now he’s driving his car in a hell storm away from flesh-eating demonspawns while his girlfriend is possibly injured in the back. Fuck, the only reason he knows she’s not gravely injured is because Vax isn’t freaking the fuck out.

Another rumble shakes the world around them. Percy’s very bones feel like tightly wound strings of copper full of static as if the storm outside has conducted all of its electricity into him. He’s going to explode, he’s going to scream, he’s-

A gentle, familiar, hand lays onto his shoulder before he can see the owner of said hand slowly and carefully manover herself into the front passenger seat. He keeps his main focus on the pavement that he can make out from his rain-painted windshield but he notices the bandages covering Vex’s side, some slight red bleeding through but not enough to be concerning. Not enough to be concerning? Gods what's happening to us? What's happened to us that any more blood than that released from a pin prick is not concerning? That the only time we are concerned is if they are bleeding out?

The gentle hand returns to his forearm this time, taking hold of it as she gently rubs her thumb across his skin. His body still buzzes with wild tension but the internal fog clears just enough, he lets out a long sigh, a barely noticeable shakiness finds its way into it but that's just for him and Vex to know.

“The roads are going to be icy after this.” Keyleth’s voice pierces the silence that had encompassed the van, filling the stagnant air with the seeping chill of dread taking its place. She isn’t wrong, they all know it but it also reveals a different issue.

“We’ll have to be careful with the van, it’s possible we might not be able to shut it off till it’s completely dry.” His voice is void of emotion but he just can’t bring himself to put anything into it and what would he? Despair would just hurt everyone, panic would scare everyone even more, so he just avoids it. He finds himself doing that a lot these days. Avoid the things that bring him pain, avoid till they slap him in the face or threaten to sneak behind him and rip his heart out through his back with a triumphant cry as if to mock him for his incompetence and inaction. He’s still reeling from how he didn’t notice Keyleth getting sick. If he’d just been paying just a smidge more attention he might’ve noticed, might’ve prevented his friends, his family, from splitting yet again, and half of them getting hurt in the process.

Logically he knows that no matter what they would’ve had to stop for supplies at some point before they hit the next middle-of-nowhere highway but he just can’t scratch this ever-present itch that he could’ve done something.

The rain continues to pelt down but luckily from what Percy can see the roads are completely cleared so he relaxes ever so slightly and as if they can feel the mood shift from him the rest of the group starts to idly chatter. Only three voices don’t join in, Vex, Keyleth, and his own. Chancing a glance in the rearview mirror reveals to him Vax softly talking to Keyleth, who has her head buried in the side of the long-haired man's neck.

Percy returns his full attention to the road, best not to intrude on a moment when they’re already forced to have it in the open. A lack of privacy has been one of the strongest most felt losses they’ve all been scrambling to get accustomed too. It’s to the point that whenever they reach Whitestone or Zephrah one of the first things he’ll do is just find a room to himself and scream. A slight slice of privacy just for him, is it wise? No. Is it selfish? Yes, but gods he feels everyone would want to do the same.

A cough brings a cold end to the little conversations everyone just started to have. Percy dares not take a glance through the mirror, avoiding yet again. His grip tightened on the wheel.“I’m fine, it’s just from, well you know.” He hears Keyleth say just barely audible enough for everyone to hear. She’s still recovering, it’d be irrational to think she wouldn’t cough here or there but after the rush and fear they all felt and the fact she hadn’t coughed for hours at this point, it sends cold shivers up all their spines. Percy keeps his eyes glued to the road, as Vex’s hand goes from giving comfort to holding onto his arm in a firm grip. It’d better just be a cough.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

here is my newest armand/daniel fic, this one with the book versions of the characters. nothing but canon-compliant smut here. read it below

When Armand had explained that vampires can’t have sex like mortals, Daniel had been disappointed.  It was certainly no secret now that he craved Armand carnally.  It was in his thoughts often enough that Armand had to know.  

Luckily, there were workarounds to that no sex thing.

Like the one Armand is using right now.  Daniel can barely look at Armand between his legs, auburn hair curled over his forehead and long lashes dusting his cheeks.  He’s so fucking pretty, Daniel feels like the luckiest guy alive.  If he looks at him too long, he feels like he’ll come.  And he can’t come until he has Armand’s permission.

He moans as Armand holds him stretched open wide, tongue pushing inside him again and again.  He keeps biting into and making it bleed, pushing his blood inside Daniel and sending him reeling.  He feels so connected to Armand right now, like he doesn’t know where he ends and Armand starts.  

“Armand, can I-”  Daniel can’t quite get it out.  “Will you…”

“What, Daniel?”  That sensuous voice inside his head, smooth like velvet.  

“Touch me,” Daniel pleads, face burning red.  Armand draws away from his hole and Daniel whines at the contact, until Armand bites down into his inner thigh.  The swoon rolls over him and Armand’s hand begins to pump him.  He starts out slow and steadily gets faster, until Daniel is panting out his name and barely able to breath out “Can I…can I come?”

“Yes, lover.  Let me see you.”

Daniel spills over Armand’s hand and Armand wipes it on the sheets.  It’s kind of gross, but Daniel can’t bring himself to care.  He opens his arms and Armand acquiesces, coming into them.  Daniel snuggles up to him.  He always likes cuddling with Armand, he’s always a little cool, like the cold side of the pillow.

Daniel yawns.  

“Sleep, beloved,” Armand says, running fingers through his hair.  “There’s this new gallery opening downtown that we’re going to tonight.  You can wear that purple shirt that brings out your eyes.”

Daniel closes his eyes and nods contently.  “Whatever you want, boss.”

[motthe]

looovvveeee of my life!!! you've worked so hard and you're still pushing yourself everyday to do more and I'm so so proud of you!! 🥹🥹

could I maybe have chris redfield 👀👀👀 x mer!fem!reader + lake + healing??? maybe maybe?? I know chris redfield can be elusive tho so if you'd rather, I'd also vibe with the same prompts but with V instead!

also you're an angel always and just the most wonderful friend always and ily ily ily always 💕💕

hopefully i did him justice for you!!! i’m so glad you requested 🥹 AND TF YOU MEAN V I DIDNT KNOW YOU LIKED HIM???

Chris Redfield x mer!fem!Reader + lake + healing

He’d heard about you through his small team of researchers—another Miranda goon forced to reside in Monroe’s lake. Compared to that lump of snot, you’re fairly normal from the waist up. It’s the blurred photos of your fish tail that show the aftermath of the mold.

As far as he and his people know, you’re just another guard to the one section. Another failed experiment.

So it’s a damn surprise when old Monroe splits the boat house they’re hiding in, you’re the one to guide them to the safety of a secluded beach. Ethan keeps the big fish busy in the meantime, he notices.

“You’re lucky your team survived him. Monroe enjoys swallowing things whole,” you huff, watching the team from the shallow water. You don’t try to hide your mutation, tail flicking up out of the water every so often.

“Close to him?” Chris asks.

“Cousin,” you answer, cold, “and no. I want him dead. Was hoping you’d get that done, luckily wonder boy over there is taking care of business.”

“And Miranda?” he presses.

“You think I’m close to the person who ruined my life?” you chuckle mirthlessly. “That’s funny. Any more stupid questions?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters, gesturing to you, “is your arm supposed to bleed like that?”

You glance down, just noticing the sliced skin there. That’s what you get for pulling a bunch of strangers through debris-filled water.

“You don’t heal like the others.”

You shrug. “Not ‘worthy’ like the others. Could be worse. Kept my face, at least.”

“I’ll patch you up,” he says, grabbing first aid from one of his men. They keep their distance from you, not willing to take any chances.

“How kind of you,” you tease, not even flinching as he enters the ankle-deep water to crouch next to you.

“Just returning the favor. You helped my men.” Luckily the bandages are waterproof, he thinks. “If you have valuable intel on the rest of the freaks around here, we’ll take down Miranda. You’ll be free.”

“I think we both know where I end up,” you scoff. “Your men are still scared of me. I’ll just be carted off to another lab to be poked and prodded.”

“We could find an antidote. Take samples of the mold in your body—”

You place a hand over his as they finish up the bandages. He doesn’t pull them away and you smile up at him.

“Another time, another place and you would’ve been my ideal type, Mr. Optimistic.” You push his hands off and drag yourself back into the lake. “Good luck with Miranda. She won’t go down easy.”

“Hey,” he barks, but you’re already diving down, tail scattering water in his direction.

[owl-witch-prompts]

Spider-Man Oc: Weaver AKA Alala

Her powers are based of the Garden spider. The Golden orb-weaver to be exact.

Her webbing is organic and of course a glittering gold color.

She stands at being 6ft 3. She actually had a bit of a growth spurt not to long after her spider bite. Luckily it happened in increments so it wasn’t looked into.

She is able to sprout four spider legs from her back. It doesn’t hurt but she does have four thin lines on her back because of it. Which she gets a tattoo to hide.

She has long hair that is wavy curly mix that is almost never down from some sort of ponytail or bun.

She carries a comb on her constantly since her hair feels bothersome and weird when she can’t brush it out at least a few times a day.

She is stronger than most spidermen actually. This is something that both amazes and terrifies spider society.

She likes finding places to simply sit and read. As it’s relaxing and lets her mind wander.

She doesn’t exactly get along with Miguel and is often arguing with him about cannon events. Doing her own research and creating more plausible theories.

Her costume is a mix of bright yellow (Think kinda like neon.) black and bright green.

Even before the bite her vision wasn’t good and she actually has special lenses for fighting otherwise she is massively near sighted. It’s a bit of a problem to say the least.

Her canon event was actually her mother dying. It was while fighting Doc sock and her mother realized that Weaver was just a kid after she froze at the sight of an upgraded Doc Ock. She ran too try and get her out of the way but was stabbed realizing it was her daughter when she screamed mom. Even in her last moments while bleeding out she trying to shield her daughter who dwarfs her saying, ‘don’t take my baby. Please don’t take my baby.’

This is also when Doc Ock realizes that Weaver is a child. A child that he just orphaned. Weaver is just desperately holding onto her mom begging her to stay.

[rainboy2210]

The Future & Time

I wish I knew what the future is going to be like. I graduate in a couple of months and, if accepted, I will be moving to the US to continue my studies. However, as that time slowly comes into view, I can start seeing myself question whether my move will be like Berlin. If you know me, then you know Berlin was the worst experience of my life. Luckily, through therapy, I was able to suppress all of my emotions, however, I still do feel kickback from it. My way of thinking, my look on life, every tiny detail that I would rather not pay attention to comes to my windshield and sticks.

Will I make friends? Will I be more outgoing? Who will I be? Can I start a normal life? What is “normal”? I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Some days, the days blend into each other and my night becomes day, and my day becomes the night. I wish I knew who I was so I could properly answer these questions. I want to write, I want to explore, I want to love, I want to do so many things that I was never able to do; things will however hold me back. I want to change. I do not like who I am now. I do not like my being, I wake up and wish I hadn’t.

Living in Greece has been an interesting experience for the last almost 6 years. My only struggle is enjoying me for me. It seems I only exist to please others, and yet, I am extremely selfish. I only want things for me. I get extremely frustrated when I do not get what I want. I write to get my frustrations out, but I still get these overwhelming feelings of self-destruction often. I wish I knew why; I wish that someone, somewhere, would hold my hand and tell me why I feel this way. I spend days in my head analyzing and picking at every word I said, slowly realizing that I needn’t speak anymore and that my only proper way of interaction is through writing. I am upset that I cannot talk without shouting, I am upset that I cannot talk without raising my voice, I am upset that I cannot talk without wanting to hear the other person’s voice. I am upset when I talk. Words seem to bleed out of my mouth without my brain ever thinking of them. I want to be quiet, I want to be quiet so I do not upset myself anymore.

There were, and still are, many things I wish did not consume me as much as they do. Over-awareness is a complexity that doesn’t seem to hold its self-back when flowing around this mush. I dislike myself because my brain is aware, too aware. If it could not for a while, I would be more appreciative of it. However, it can’t. Silence is a disease that it can’t catch. I ask stupid questions. I am riddled with unneeded information. I need information to strive. Knowledge is good, yes, but too much knowledge is painful. Why do I need such an influx of poised data? Why do I need to be needed, why do I want to feel needed?

Going back to moving to the US, I wish I was a different person than who I am today. Yes, shyness and the extremes of being socially anxious will kick in, there is no doubt about it. Over the past year, I have tried talking with people and stepping out of my comfort zone. But if feels like the way I talk isn’t right. My voice doesn’t match my body or my face, or maybe it is the other way around. I wish to not talk so I do not make a fool out of myself. I wish I was different, or maybe I wish to not talk because I have nothing left to say anymore. My quietness isn’t out of discourage; it is out of lack of motivation to say anything. I wish I knew who I am enough to be able to say anything.

I want to make friends, I want to go out, I want to be myself, I wish to not put on a mask and switch it every time I speak with someone old or new. I want to be free as much as I can possibly imagine. I want to find the motivation to go outside; right now, I have none. Perhaps in the morning I will wake up and be willing to exist; be willing to be a normal human being.  At this point, I don’t know who I am. I am trying to figure that out for myself. I wish the answer to that question was simple, unfortunately, it is not.