#save me nurse Gerard…..

[inchwerms]

I drew a lot of Gerard today!! :O here’s some doodles and a sketch :)

Sigjhhh their swarm tour outfits are always on my mind … 💭

[nowherelaney]

In the hospital and this is my nurse…..am I going to make it ???

[b1eeding-sun]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GERARD!

[mikeybutnotway]

I need nurse gerard back

[princejustwinced]

NURSE GERARD SAVE ME NURSE GERARD

[awwkie-dot-jar]

Nurse Gerard.........save me......

[hellostarposts]

Episode 36 - Taken ill

Nicole Baxter

Ivy Meadows Care Home, Woodley, Manchester

Oh its a funeral home, not a nursing home.

After hearing her talk about rot. She obviously cares about the corpses she tends to.

WE DO NOT DISREGARD ANY PART OF A STATEMENT

This funeral home has been in the same family for awhile.

Correction, Ivy Meadows is in fact a nursing home.

Oh god, not her preferring wards of the state.

Mutual loneliness

Hannah is g o n e

The call is getting cut off is big sus.

Everything was telling you that something was wrong OR it’s another pocket dimension.

Greasy residue?

John Amhurst, new director of the nursing home. Very tall and skinny.

Based on the fly description. Necromancy? Because to me this sounds like “was human but now an integral part if missing”.

Definitely necromancy because why else would he be mad about them showing up? Asked R, they said no necromancy in S1.

Very rotten body smell. But the state of the body indicted not that old but he was definitely suffering.

This girl has nerves of steel.

What does Uncle know? And good on him for not giving the ashes back.

I really doubt that it's worms. But it could be like a fungus or mold situation?

Yes please forget about the pocket dimension.

“Come quickly, we’ve taken ill” on a loop is a warning that should’ve been taken.

Vomiting flies is revolting.

Old man is going to do something bad.

The old man and the lady saved her but they have something to do with all this.

So it being closed 1 month before all of this began is scary but it brings up the question. Why did the funeral home not know about a nursing home closing down.?

Sorry Jon but you are wrong about the gas.

Building burned down in september.

Maybe the uncle knew and that’s why he didn’t bother with records.

The guy died a week before the decommissioning.

Was the body just left there?

Pocket dimension was like “what a steal! This place comes with corpses!”

7 transfers but 29 residents. Illegal workers.

Of course Jon Amhurst doesn’t exist, he’s a slime entity.

OKAY WAIT, she lost her hand? The one that came into contact with the slime? AND YOU BELIEVE HER? While workplace accident is technically accurate, STILL!

Oop Jon is finally picking up that there are dots to be connected.

Before he got cut off he was going to bring up Trevor the vampire hunter.

Old zippo was the delivery. It’s got a spider web on it. WHERE THE FUCK DO I REMEMBER IT FROM?

Is it Gerard’s, he’s the only person off the top of my head that I can remember.

Table sent to the artifacts room. Very likely the one from Across The Street (EP3)

They did not follow visitor protocols. Someone is getting written up.

So much happened in this one. That was obviously a pocket dimension. I believe that it causes rapid decay in the form of slime. I absolutely hate the inconsistencies of the funeral home family. First, you should know when a nursing home is closing. You should have more than a single pair of gloves per person. Also, the way that your uncle reacted is more than normal person weird. Also, why is the fact that the hand that touched the slime jas been amputated not discussed at all. There should be hospital records of that, FUCK HIPPA. Give me the reasons they have for the removal, it helps me know how the slime works. But all the important information is after the Tim sized interruption. I strongly believe that the zippo belongs to Gerard Keays. Additionally, the table from Across The Street making a reappearance is fun! Who would’ve thought that the hypnotic table would be important.

[likephantomzforever]

cramping so bad. nurse gerard pls save me.

[inchwerms]

Blehhhh currently sick rn 💔💔💔 I’ve lost a lot of motivation to draw bc of it but I was able to get these doodles out 🙏 UHHH TW FOR LOTS OF BLOOD BTW!!! Man I love drawing my ocs in silly situations :-) also, bonus nurse Gerard doodle bc sickness ☹️

[nowherelaney]

Forever thinking of her

[thepunkmuppet]

“surrender the night” from conventional weapons i think is actually about a car crash?? maybe??? but i just imagine gerard’s nurse character desperately and determinedly driving someone they love who tried to commit su*c*de to hospital in an ambulance and trying to save them

idk man that’s probably not the idea behind it but it’s what i imagine while listening to the lyrics. seriously read the lyrics!! in my mind i can just see this person, desperate and angry and full of so many emotions trying to save their friend who doesn’t want to be saved.

“and i’ll watch you while you sleep

you can fight this all you want

but tonight belongs to me”

i can picture the music video so clearly. bonus points if the person who needs to be saved is ghost of you soldier mikey and she’s imagining that he came back from war and hurt himself because of his trauma (because as awful as that is it means she would actually be able to save him)

yk because it’s a vintage war nurse uniform that he wore at the concert?? and there’s lore??? music video lore?? okay yeah i’ll see myself out this post is probably completely incomprehensible

[thxnks4themrms]

Woag vampy you’re finally acting your age :O

[magicalnursekomugi]

nurse gerard 😭😭😭😭😭 nurse hgerard SAVE me

[selmasemlan]

Brotherly Bonds and Bourbon Confessions

Summary: Damon asks the important question, making it clear that if Luna is hurt, Marcel isn't safe

Pairing: Marcel Gerard x Luna Salvatore (OFC)

Author note: I LOVE PROTECTIVE BROTHER/FATHER

Warning: none

Word count: 1057

Series Masterlist

Brotherly Bonds and Bourbon Confessions

The loft was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant echo of the city outside. Marcel moved silently through the dimly lit space, carefully carrying Luna in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, her breathing even and peaceful. Damon’s earlier chaos had clearly worn her out—not that Marcel minded. He liked seeing her this calm, this content.

He nudged open the door to their room with his foot and gently laid her down on the bed they shared. Pulling the blanket over her, Marcel paused for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She murmured something in her sleep, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

“You really do light up a room, Luna,” he whispered softly before stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

Back in the main area, Damon and Stefan were perched at the kitchen counter, nursing glasses of bourbon. Damon, ever the picture of nonchalance, leaned back in his chair, twirling the glass in his hand, while Stefan sat upright, his face thoughtful as he gazed into the amber liquid.

On the couches, Isaac and Stiles were sprawled out in ridiculous positions, dead to the world. Stiles had one leg draped over the backrest, snoring softly, while Isaac had somehow managed to curl himself into the smallest ball imaginable.

“Quite the trio,” Marcel said, nodding toward the couches as he entered the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured himself a drink, leaning casually against the counter.

Stefan chuckled, motioning toward Stiles. “He looks like he lost a fight with gravity.”

Damon smirked. “And Isaac looks like he’s auditioning to be a cat.”

Marcel laughed, taking a sip of his drink. “They’re good kids, though. They keep things interesting.”

Stefan turned to Marcel, his expression softening. “Thanks for taking them in. Stiles especially. He can be… a lot.”

Damon chimed in with a smirk. “And Isaac. That’s patience, my friend.”

Marcel shook his head, laughing. “It’s nothing, really. They’re basically my brothers at this point. Family sticks together, right?”

Damon’s smirk faded, his expression turning serious. He set his glass down with a deliberate clink, his piercing eyes locking onto Marcel. “Speaking of family…” he began, his tone heavy. “What’s your plan with my sister?”

The mood in the room shifted instantly. Stefan’s smile vanished, and Marcel’s grip on his glass tightened slightly.

“Damon,” Stefan warned, his voice low, “take it easy.”

Damon didn’t even glance at his brother. “No, you butt out of this, Stefan. You’re her brother, sure, but me? I’m her father.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet challenge. Damon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “I raised her. I took her in after I killed her stepfather, healed her, loved her like she was my own blood. So yeah, I think I’ve earned the right to ask what your intentions are.”

Marcel set his drink down carefully, taking a moment to meet Damon’s intense gaze. “I love Luna,” he said firmly, his voice steady and sincere. “More than anything. She’s my future. My plan is to stay with her forever, to build a life with her. And I will never let anyone or anything hurt her. Not as long as I’m breathing.”

Damon didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at Marcel, his expression unreadable, the weight of the moment pressing down like a heavy fog. Stefan glanced nervously between them, clearly ready to intervene if things escalated.

Finally, Damon leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He picked up his glass and raised it slightly. “Well,” he said, his tone lighter but no less serious, “that’s a decent answer.”

Marcel allowed himself a small smile, lifting his own glass in return. “Glad I passed the test.”

Damon smirked, his usual cockiness returning. “You’re not off the hook yet, but it’s a good start.”

Stefan rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Call it what you want, Stefan,” Damon shot back. “I’m just making sure my little girl is in good hands.”

Marcel chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s lucky to have you, you know. Both of you.”

Damon snorted. “Of course she is. We’re amazing.”

Stefan gave Marcel a knowing look, ignoring his brother’s ego. “She talks about you all the time, you know. How much you’ve done for her. How happy you make her.”

Marcel’s smile softened. “She’s everything to me. I just want her to be happy.”

Damon studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly, a rare flicker of genuine approval in his eyes. “You better keep it that way.”

“Don’t worry,” Marcel said with a grin, raising his glass again. “To Luna.”

“To Luna,” Stefan echoed, clinking his glass with Marcel’s.

Damon smirked, lifting his own glass. “To Luna—and to me not killing you for putting that look in her eyes.”

Marcel laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll drink to that.”

As the three of them sat there, the tension gradually eased, replaced by a shared understanding. They were all different men, shaped by different lives and experiences, but their love for Luna tied them together in a way none of them could deny.

From the couches, a loud snore broke the moment, followed by Stiles muttering something unintelligible in his sleep. Isaac rolled over, nearly toppling off the edge of the couch.

Damon raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward them. “You sure about these two?”

Marcel laughed, glancing at the sleeping duo. “They’re a handful, but yeah. I’m sure.”

Stefan chuckled. “Welcome to the family, Marcel. Chaos and all.”

Marcel grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For the first time that night, Damon let out a genuine laugh. “You’re braver than I thought, taking on this circus.”

The three of them clinked their glasses one last time, the sound echoing through the quiet loft. It was a moment of peace, of camaraderie, and maybe even a little bit of acceptance. For Marcel, it was proof that he was exactly where he was meant to be—with Luna, with her family, and with the life they were building together.

And as the night stretched on, filled with the low hum of conversation and the occasional joke, Marcel couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. He had found his place, his family. And he wasn’t letting go of it—not for anything.

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 35

A/N: Ethel offers some sisterly advice.

Warnings: plotting and mentions of canon-typical social injustice.

OCs featured/mentioned: Selene Fraser and Alan the ferret @lifeofkaze, Eliot Gerard @kc-and-co, Cledwyn Ironwood @that-scouse-wizard

April 1897

Having helped Alan escape from Jim’s clutches, Selene had the grand idea of taking the ferret to the Hospital Wing to check for signs of trauma.

“That’s not a terrible notion. It was rather an ordeal for him, after all,” Ethel reasoned. “Nurse Blainey did say last time that she would not treat ferrets, though.”

“We don’t need Nurse Blainey. Eliot Gerard is helping in the Hospital Wing at the moment.”

“Why?”

“Because he wishes to be a Healer when he leaves school. He has plans to travel all over the world healing people,” said Selene. “I’m certain that he would be more than happy to help Alan.”

Ethel had no interest in spending time with Eliot Gerard, even if he did wish to travel all over the world healing people. The very notion of his doing so seemed nonsensical - surely there were other Healers across the world who could save him the journey. She left Selene and Alan to find Eliot Gerard and set off for the library.

“Good afternoon, Madam Khanna,” she greeted the librarian, who smiled warmly at her. “Did you manage to find the book of Wizengamot trial proceedings you told me about?”

“Certainly, Miss Hexley. I have it in one of the stacks here. I’ll fetch it for you now.”

Madam Khanna turned to the five large stacks of books behind her desk, and Ethel tapped one foot as she waited for the librarian to find her book, which detailed the most notoriously controversial court trials of British wizarding history. She had been looking forward to reading this one since before the start of the Easter holidays.

As Madam Khanna looked through the third stack, Ethel looked around at the rest of the library, which was relatively empty, it being lunchtime and a rather pleasant day outside. Still, there were a few students dotted around, including - she did a double take as she noticed - her brother and Héloïse Perrault. Ethel craned her neck to watch the two of them. Jim was standing by the table at which Héloïse was sitting, his face rapidly growing pink as he spoke to her.

He was asking her to the dance - he was actually asking her. Ethel’s jaw dropped, now so engrossed in the scene that she barely noticed Madam Khanna placing her long-awaited book on the desk in front of her until the librarian cleared her throat. Ethel took the book, thanked Madam Khanna hurriedly, and immediately turned her attention back to her brother, who was now striding back across the library in the direction of the corridor outside.

Naturally, Ethel had to follow him, so she tucked her book under her arm and sped away after him, managing to wait until she had passed through the library doors before she called out:

“Jimmy!”

Jim was already descending the stairs outside, but at the sound of his name, he stopped his tracks and looked back at her. He frowned so deeply he almost looked angry.

“What do you want now?” he asked her.

“Now, don’t be like that, Jim. I am only paying a close interest in my brother’s personal life, which as a caring and devoted sister, is my duty, is it not?” Ethel grinned at Jim, who shook his head and continued to walk away from her. She took the stairs two at a time to catch up. “Oh, I cannot wait to write to Mamma about this!”

“You will do no such thing.”

“But I shall. She is bound to want to know, though I do wonder if she will believe it. Our dear, sweet Jimmy a lothario, whoever would have thought it?”

“Effy, do be quiet.”

“Selene will be glad to hear that Alan helped you find the courage to ask Héloïse to attend the dance with you after all. Say, did Héloïse know that you practised asking her using a ferret? Are you planning on practising dancing with Alan, too? Or holding hands? Will Alan be the best man at your wedding? Will Selly and I be bridesmaids?”

“Ethel, please,” Jim said, no longer sounding irritated, but weary. “Please stop.”

“But…” Ethel’s voice tailed off as she looked at her brother. “Why, Jimmy, you’re upset.” Jim did not look her in the eye; his own were filled with tears. “Why?”

“Because she said no,” Jim told her. “Because she’s already going to the ball with someone else.”

“Oh,” Ethel patted him on the shoulder. “Well, don’t be upset about that. It’s only one silly little school dance. It’s not that important.”

“It’s important to me. Or it was, anyway.”

“It shouldn’t be,” said Ethel. “There are far more important things in this world to be worried about, after all. Think about all the poor Muggle women who cannot vote, or the goblins who have their lives’ work taken away from them, or the house elves who do not even get days off work. Compared to them, your problems are nothing, really. None of ours are. So maybe instead of being upset about a stupid ball, you should be upset about that and focus your energies on helping somehow. If you spend your life doing that rather than moping around, just think about how much more good you might do in the world.”

Jim scoffed, and Ethel raised one eyebrow at him imperiously.

“What, Jimmy?”

“Well, it’s only that you… That those are fine words from someone who wishes to spend their own life throwing a Quaffle through a hoop.”

Ethel opened her mouth to argue with him, but even she had to concede that he had a point. Becoming a professional Quidditch player had been her dream from the first moment she had sat a broom, but Jim was right, Quidditch players never made any differences in the world, not ones that mattered. They simply… played. Just like Ethel, really. She had never made any meaningful differences, nor had she done any good in the world around her, let alone the world at large. Perhaps she never would, but she was not ready to concede that just yet.

So, she decided there and then that she would do some good, even if it was only on a small scale. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around Jim’s torso. He stiffened.

“Um… What… Ethel, what are you doing?”

“I’m embracing you, you ape.”

“But… why?”

“Because” - Ethel did not let go of Jim - “you’re my baby brother-”

“We were born on the same day.”

“- and you’re sad. And, as your older and far wiser sister-”

“There is less than an hour between us!”

“- I am going to make it all better for you.”

Ethel released Jim from her her hold, and he regarded her with a sceptical look in his eyes, so similar as they were to her own.

“How?” he asked her.

“Firstly,” Ethel said, raising her hand to push Jim’s hair back from his face, “we need you to look handsome. Well, dapper. At the very least, well-dressed. And you’ll need to get better at dancing, so we can practise that. And you need a date.”

“But Héloïse is going with-”

“I don’t mean Héloïse. You can go with Selene.”

“Effy, I don’t like Selene,” said Jim. “That is… I like her very well, but I do not feel deeply for her.”

“You’re missing my point, Jim. You don’t need to feel for her to take her to the ball. I don’t feel for Cledwyn, and he does not for me, but we are still accompanying one another.”

“You are?”

“Oh, yes. That reminds me, I need to let him know about that, actually.”

“Right.” Jim frowned. “I am sorry, Ethel, but I still do not quite. understand your point.”

“My point is that we’re going to show Héloïse what she’s missing. Believe me, she will regret not having you as her escort.”

“I don’t see what taking Selene has to do with Héloïse regretting that I am not taking her.”

Ethel laughed out loud. How oblivious he was to the ways of women!

“Oh, my sweet little brother. You clearly underestimate the immense power of a little jealousy…”

[nillamoonstar]

nurse gerard, save me

save me, nurse gerard

they're so special to me

nurse gerard in detroit 2022