#so u nurse her and find out maybe things in her life went to absolute shit and she's not good mentally or physically

[sapphic-woes]

GOD FUCK HOLD THIS THOUGHT I HAD ANOTHER THOUGHT

If I maybe write smth real dark like think whump, would y'all hang me.

...and also who would y'all want it to be with??

[stitchthesewords]

hello

Or grian coming back from dl and he needs not only a cane but hes suffering from a bad-but-temporary case of tinnitus and cant get out of bed and no one sees him for a few days until scar comes over to talk bc holy shit dl and finds Grian in need of help

EXPAND UPON THIS. I AM INTRIGUED. if u want no pressure <3

-catmaidetho

WHEEZING WHATS SO FUNNY IS THAT I HAVE BEEN. STARING AT A WORD DOC ALL DAY TRYING TO <- Girl who is so dead from her job

To start w what the delightful @hitheeprithee said to me earlier that made me. Absolutely fucking insane. But Scar gifting one of his canes to Grian in the post-DL return to HC because he's having trouble with both just walking bc of the aches in his body and the dizzyness caused by the disorientation of being shouted apart. And grian tries, really, to be appreciative, but scar's cane doesnt sit at the right height and he's awkward with it so he just stays in bed and then a few days later Scar sheepishly shows up with a custom made cane for Grian that's the right height and has feathers carved into it and just. hhhh.

But its like. Grian having to learn to rely on others. And I mean this in like the. I am physically disabled and im still learinng. You are always learning how to do this. Every day is a new day for failures and learning in this task. And its grian who doesnt want to get out of bed, who's never felt his body be in such constant misery, not even after third life or last life. He went out - bad. I don't have the brain power to elaborate rn maybe I'll reblog this tomorrow but tldr: I headcanon that the deaths in the life series and way different to deaths on hermitcraft. They're permanently debilitating in some way, but the players keep coming back because they learn to cope, they hold tight to the love for each other that radiates through every time they go through it - anyway. This warden death hurts - and Scar is feeling it too, but not as bad, not as Severely, and furthermore he has coping skills in place already for chronic pains and aches and fatigue. Grian doesn't.

It's Scar showing up and adjusting Grian's pillows to help him sit up, nursing him to health with some food and water, an ice pack, a heating pad, some potions from Cub to help with the pains, to help manage. Its Scar teaching Grian to use a cane, to trust his weight to this inanimate object, to learn to use it as an extension of himself. Helping him learn the walking pattern. It's Scar opening up the bedroom window or whatever the fuck the equivalent is in Grian's base to help get some white noise and teaching Grian to focus on it to make the worst of the ringing go away, to massage the muscles in his head to help with the headaches and migraines.

Scar teaching Grian how to pull his weight up with other people, how to get up from the floor with his back hurts so much he can barely move, to shuffle around the room a little bit just to get the blood flowing in his legs.

And then its like. It's Grian leaning his head against Scar's chest and crying from frustration because his body wont cooperate and he's never had to deal with it before and he doesn't know how. And grian apologizing because he's just complaining about things scar lives with always. And Scar soothing Grian's worries and anxieties becaue he knows why grian's frustrated and its not guaranteed to help but by god he'll try, he'll try so hard to give grian the world back if he can.

god I wish i could elaborate more but. I am sleepy.

[izzy-b-hands]

15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS

Tagged by @sherlockig, thank u Alexz!!

Under the cut bc I got wordy and rambly as per usual lol.

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

Kind of? In that I more or less named myself after Izzy from our flag lol. Not that I'm going to tell everyone I meet that, but it is a big part of why I stuck with it after trying it out (that, and I've always wanted a name that had the letter zed in it, silly as that may seem.)

One of my middle names (that I had been using as a first name for a few years) is after my grandfather and aunt who also have that name as their middle name.

My deadname was after an actress famous in the 90s (tho tbh my mum apparently didn't choose it for that, she chose it bc she didn't find out my gender until I was Out and then was like 'aw fuck I don't have a name for this situation' and went with the first one she saw in a book of names a nurse gave her. It was only after that she remembered the actress when I was like. 4. that she changed and started telling ppl it was after that instead.)

And technically Holden is after the book character, but mum never actually read that book (and after I described it to her, said she has no interest in doing so lmao), she just liked how the name sounded and that was the one solitary name she for sure had on hand when I was born apparently. Could have saved us all time had she just used that one for me anyway!

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

Couple of nights ago. I'm doing better abt missing my cat Nisha, but my phone will toss up compilations of pics of her to mark the year/month/etc and sometimes those still get me. It popped up just before I went to bed that night and I was already so tired that I just. broke down. Bc I know she's v loved and looked after w/my mum, but I do miss her goofy lil self a lot. She was my first cat that was given to me and meant to be mine alone, and there's something abt that first pet bond I guess.

3. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

Nope, and it's not a likely thing for me. I've said before that that happening would be in a very specific situation, wherein I'm with someone who wants to dedicate the rest of our lives to raising a child, or god forbid more than one, tho I think I'd max out at two if I managed one at all tbh (and that's not even getting into the very complex for me thing of would I want to actually be pregnant ever (probably not, absolutely terrified of dying in childbirth and don't see myself getting over that easily), we have the funds to make that happen (and give the kid a good life, not just a decent one or 'could have been worse' like my own), and we feel stable mentally, emotionally, and physically (as much as one can outside of Life Happening of course) bc having a kid means putting allll of that first for them, ahead of yourself. Or at least I think it should mean that lol.

But that situation is incredibly unlikely considering my bigger goal in life is to wind up being a third for multiple couples while also fucking any of my friends who are down for it in a big poly ENM sort of thing for lack of better/more detailed definition (I know it sounds unrealistic and maybe it is to a degree, almost definitely is lol.)

I can admit I just. don't want to uproot the life I've been trying so hard to build for myself in so many ways, to have kids. I'll happily help babysit the kids of any friends tho and be the fun uncle that buys them junk food and lets them stay up late to watch movies. I think that's about the level of parenting of any kind that I can handle for now (also tbh I burned out on parenting bc my family admits they parentified the fuck outta me with my three younger cousins. It by far could have been worse, but I spent my teens spending most of my days after school helping look after them from the newborn years and on. Unless my above uber specific scenario happens, then I've probably had my fill of parenting for my lifetime.)

4. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

I played volleyball for a few years in elementary school, and we were made to participate in a multi-school track and field thing for most of middle school every year, but I was never amazing at them. Housemate and I have figured out I likely have undiagnosed asthma tho (turns out running or going out in too cold or hot weather shouldn't instantly make you gasp, struggle to breathe, and make you taste iron in your mouth, who the fuck knew? Not me, genuinely) so I think that might have a lot to do with it.

I also enjoy tennis and badminton and would love to try rugby, but I've never played any of those beyond a hobby with family/friends.

5. DO YOU USE SARCASM?

I do! Probably too much and not always in the best situations, but I've been working for years to hone when and where it should be used so I think/hope I'm a lot better with it than I was when I was younger. Tho even then, I did get adults who found it funny when I was sarcastic bc of how adult I seemed to a lot of them (their words, not mine lmao.)

6. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

I genuinely don't know. Usually I'm too busy running my script for meeting new ppl in my head and trying to maintain Common and Expected Etiquette to really notice much right away. I have found that after a bit of time/after the initial meeting has passed, I tend to notice colours ppl wear more often than others if I see them often enough, or hair colour. But I don't know if it counts towards this question at that point lol.

7. WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?

Kinda blueish grey? Some ppl say it's too grey to be blue, others that it's too blue to be grey. I had a lady at the ND DOT freak out abt not being sure if I should have blue or grey on my ID a few years back, and she finally just told me to put blue so 'she could stop feeling so confused.' Was a weird day and the first time I realised apparently they really do have a blend of both colours, enough for it to be upsetting lmao.

8. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

I can't choose between the two; I like both! I also like mixing them together when I write (a scary story with a happy ending, an ending that seems happy but is actually terrifying, so on and so forth.)

9. ANY TALENTS?

Writing? Maybe, I always list it bc it's something I know how to do and to (usually) do decently well. I can sort of draw? But not well enough that I think 'talented' would be accurate to describe how I draw lol. I'm not sure of anything else off the top of my head tbh.

10. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

In California, USA! We were there bc dad was in basic training for the Marines and then just got stuck at Camp Pendleton for years lmao (or that's how he always talks abt it anyway lmao.) Only was actually there until either: a. I was 3 months old, b. I was 6 months old or c. I was actually basically still a fresh newborn. Depends on whether you're talking to my dad, mum, or grandparents as to which answer you get, and at this point I'm genuinely uncertain as to exactly when mum left and took me to North Dakota but 6 months seems the most potentially accurate lmaooo.

11. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

Writing, drawing, reading (not enough but I'm trying to remedy that), napping, watching movies/fave shows, and giffing.

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

Kind of? My cat Nisha had to stay in North Dakota after I moved, so my mum and her bf are looking after her now (and got her a little sister, a kitten who is getting so big already!, named Bella.) I help Housemate look after aer two cats as well, and I'd like to think the boys consider me like their fun uncle lol (aka I bend over backwards for them and let them steal my spot on the couch all the time, and will break out the treats if needed to corral them now and then. In my defense: they are the cutest lil baby boy cats and they deserve the world, even when they're being little gremlins lmao.)

13. HOW TALL ARE YOU?

Approximately somewhere between 5'3 and 5'4ish? I can't recall the last time I was actually measured, and most of the ppl I've been around were somewhere between those heights and I'm usually either slightly shorter or slightly taller than some of them, so??? I put 5'3 on my ID tho lol

14. FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?

English bc it was easy and I liked almost everything we did in that class. All my general and more specific history courses were a close second, and my foreign language classes a close third.

15. DREAM JOB?

Ideally, I'd love to not have to work. But who wouldn't, so that said, probably something in a library or museum. I'd love to be a library page again, or help work the front desk/docent duties of a museum. Working at someplace like Mystic Seaport would be amazing too; I'd be happy to learn how to help repair/repaint ships that come in or just help do tours or look after artifacts and stuff (tbh they could hire me just to type up any random data entry work they need done for any/all depts and I'd say yes to the job offer lol.) Unfortunately there's fairly significant roadblocks to me achieving any of these jobs rn, but I like to keep them in mind, just in case.

Also, if I can have one dream job that would be even more unlikely and is slightly TMI probably but: paid third for a rich couple. I show up, look nice, [redacted], make sure they're both good for the night, then go back home to Housemate (if it wouldn't be a night they'd want me to stay over, which I wouldn't be against but also. That would require some overtime pay lol.) The chances of this one are...so unlikely it's stupid funny, but a man's allowed to have dreams right lmao?

Tagging (if u guys wanna, no obligation if u don't wanna/have already been tagged/etc!!): @starmoonchildfromthebeamsabove, @freebooter4ever, @willowenigma, @turtleduck-tales, @mash1972, @mysteriouslybluepirate, @turtles-on-turts, @cononeillbreastingboobily, @treesofgreen, @dianetastesmetal, @arsenicflame, @gydima, @king-bussy, @p0ochy, @crvwly, and anyone else following me who wants to!

[plant-flwrs]

heart of glass // fred weasley

masterlist!

request (from @bitchywhisperswizard <3): Hi! I absolutely LOVE your writing! Could I maybe request where Fred Weasley breaks up with reader before the war and thinks she died? Only to find her a year later in the muggle world like a celebrity performer? I understand if it doesn't make sense. Thank you!

a/n: thank u for the request!! i refuse to believe fred d*ed, but i am a sucker for fred lives au’s. also went a little grunge w this just because i love those pictures of metalhead james and oliver :) (i listened to miley cyrus’s new cover of heart of glass while i wrote this so i just called it that)

summary: Fred broke up with you just before the war, and when he couldn’t find you after the battle cleared he thought you died. You’re alive and well, living as a celebrity among the muggle world. One night reunites you two, and neither of you can deny the feelings that spark.

(2.5k)

------

Clutching the white sink beneath your fingers, you barely recognized the person looking back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were sunken and swollen, your lips puffed and red. Your cheeks were hollowed, casting shadows into your face. You lifted a shaky hand, pushing your hair out of your face and revealing a scar on your temple. 

You had barely made it out of the war, and once you did, you had no intentions on going back.

You made a new life in the muggle world, and eventually you were able to do what you had always wanted to do: perform. 

It was about ten minutes before you were due in stage, and your nerves had stopped buzzing a long time ago. You dipped a finger into some black eyeshadow, spreading it haphazardly across your eyes. You looked dead, and it showed what you felt like on the inside.

Not a day passed in which Fred Weasley hadn’t thought of you. Not a day passed in which guilt hadn’t plagued his heart and mind. Every day, for just over a year, the image of tears streaming down your face as he broke up with you was glue to the inside of his eyelids.

George tried to understand but he could never understand the pain. He tried to help his brother when he could. 

“Freddie!” George called to him from across the store, heaving in a huge box.

“Yeah?” Fred replied from behind the counter, pushing heavy buttons on the loud till.

“Look at this,” George quickly removed a hand from under the box, shifting his weight. He handed Fred a flier he found posted in the side of the shop.

It was a black flier, advertising some muggle bar in London. It looked like the sort of crowd the brothers gravitated towards some odd five years ago. Skulls and grunge symbols littered the page, and Fred found himself smiling fondly at it.

“Want to go?’ George asked, setting down the box in its right place, starting to unload the new shipment of chocolate wands.

“Aren’t we a little too old for this, George?” Fred said with a sad smile.

In that moment, George had the feeling he didn’t recognize his brother. His own face, but tormented with worry, sadness, and the unfriendly effects of time. George furrowed his brow, and tried to continue.

“No! It’ll be fun,” George reassured, slapping a hand on his brother’s back.

This was how Fred found himself clung to the bar all night, nursing a beer in his hand. He didn’t like muggle alcohol as much, but he supposed it would do. 

The bar was in the back of the crowded club, but it barely had any people by it. Everyone had rushed to the front of a stage, the entire room filled with enthusiastic screams. George hovered near the back of the crowd, where Fred could still see him, swinging back and forth to the music they played over the speaker.

Fred and George had liked going to concerts after the war. The flashing lights and loud noises were difficult at first, very difficult, but it was one of the things that helped them recover.

Fred looked around over the top of his drink, surveying the crowd. It was mostly made up of people who looked like him five years ago, people who hadn’t been through a war, or lost their ex-girlfriend in that war. People who didn’t feel like crying every second of every day. The crowd didn’t look like you or Fred.

Someone knocked on your door, their words muffled by the ringing in your ears. You shook your head, letting your hair fall naturally in it’s place over your scar. You pulled up the high boots you wore, and fixed the sheer tights that dove into them. Pulling the top of your tank top to cover your chest some more, you felt the cold air hit your slightly exposed stomach. You stood off to the right, backstage, waiting as people poked and prodded at you, fixing wires and handing you things to hold that they would eventually take back from you.

The nerves still didn’t come, but you hadn’t expected them to. Nothing made you nervous anymore, nothing made you feel anything, really.

Someone held the curtain open for you, and at the slightest movement the crowd roared. Fred turned his gaze towards the stage, and George moved forward in the crowd.

You looked out into the sea of people, and you could make out a few faces in the front. You had requested dulled lights for all of your shows, unable to handle the bright lights that often came with performing. A purple light hovered above you, illuminating you with the cool hue.

You cast a smirk out into the audience, moving to your mark at the center of the stage. Your band filed in behind you, and you tugged at the cord for the microphone, giving yourself some slack. The crowd was still just as loud as when you came out, and you started your first song.

You couldn’t hear anything but your own voice ringing through your head, booming through the earpiece tucked behind your hair. 

From the bar, Fred found his glass shattered on the floor beneath him. It hadn’t even made a sound over your powerful voice coming from what felt like every angle. He couldn’t move, his eyes just locked on your almost unrecognizable face. Even though you looked like him, tired and full of regrets, eyes sunken and cheeks hollowed, he would recognize you and your voice from anywhere.

He had heard you sing almost everyday since he met you. You hummed next to him in class, you chorused obnoxiously in the common room, and you sang to him softly while the two of you laid in bed.

Looking at you now, bent at the knees and almost squatting as you nearly screamed the chorus for what he could assume was your own song, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Everything washed through him, the guilt, the sadness, the worry, the pain.

George was next to him in a second, shaking him by his shoulders. A gleeful smile spread across his face and he just chanted: “She’s alive, she’s actually alive, Freddie!” over and over.

Fred couldn’t believe it, he had always wanted something like this to happen, to replay it all and make sure you hadn’t died, and now that he saw you living and breathing he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Fred ducked into the bathroom, splashing water over his face until he felt like himself again. He fixed his hair, regretting not getting a haircut earlier in the week like he had wanted to. You did always like his hair long, though. He looked down at his buttoned down shirt, the flowy sleeves rolled up halfway up his arms. He tucked it into his jeans, trying to smooth it out some.

George was waiting from him outside the door, biting his nails.

“She’s amazing, mate,” George said. Your voice echoed around the room, and still floated to their ears from the corner they had hidden away in.

“She always was,” Fred mumbled.

“I can’t believe it,” George said, his mouth agape and shaking his head in a disbelieving way.

“Do I look okay?” Fred asked his brother, holding his arms out a little.

George tugged at the sleeves, evening them out and making the rolls more neat.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling Fred with him.

The two sat and listened to you sing until Fred couldn’t take it anymore. The brothers left the venue, moving out onto the chilly London street. They walked around the back, where your crew had parked. They waited.

You finished your show, leaving the stage with the usual rush of adrenaline. You could never sit still inside after a show, and you rushed past your crew and out the back door. The cold air hit your skin, nipping at your sweat covered face and torso. You reached back inside, your hand finding a stool with a pack of cigarettes on them. You came back outside, fiddling with the package. You pulled one out and brought it to your lips, and realized you didn’t have a lighter. These were the moments you wished you still had your wand. It was always easier to smoke when you were a witch.

“Need a light?” someone spoke, coming from out of a shadow.

You immediately felt tears brimming your eyes, looking into the familiar brown eyes and flaming red hair.

“George?” you croaked, voice weak from the singing and the tears threatening to spill over.

George and you took steps towards each other, and he wrapped you in his arms. You cried into his chest, not really knowing why. You supposed you missed him, or maybe it was the fact that he looked strikingly like the boy who had broken your heart.

“Y/n,” another voice, a voice you would know always, called from behind him.

You shrunk from George hesitantly, wiping your eyes. You looked down at your hands, seeing them covered in smeared black makeup. You looked back at George’s shirt and saw a similar mark. You looked up at him apologetically, but he just beamed back at you, waving it off. You watched him pull his wand from his side, and with a simple movement, the stain was gone. You felt yourself crying harder.

You turned back to Fred, who had also started crying. The two of you lunged at each other, a mess of forceful limbs trying to wrap around the other.

“I thought you died,” Fred called out, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

You sobbed in response, your body shaking against Fred’s. He pulled your tighter, like he had regretted ever letting go.

You felt like you could never compose yourself, but you eventually did. Fred’s eyes were red and swollen, and you had wiped the tears off his cheeks. He did the same charm George had done to get the makeup off his shirt.

You led them inside, back into the venue. All of you sniffled as you walked together. You waved to security, telling them they were with you, and ignored your manager as you slipped into your greenroom. 

“You were amazing up there,” George said, taking advantage of the full bar you had in the room.

You took the glass he had made for you, gulping down the harsh alcohol in one swig. George chuckled, ducking into the mini fridge and handing you a soda.

“So your a muggle now?” Fred croaked, his eyes locked on his glass.

“Turned in my wand after the war,” you answered, putting the soda on the table beside you because you couldn’t trust your shaking hands.

“We missed you,” George spoke, sitting next to you on the couch.

You forced a smile on your cracking lips, glancing at him.

“I thought you died,” Fred spoke, finally looking up at you.

Your eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

“Couldn’t find you after,” George said, forcing himself to remember, “looked almost all night. Lifted every stone we could find.”

Your eyes drifted down, tears filling them again. You swallowed hard, hating yourself immediately for the pain you put them through. You couldn’t even compare it to the pain Fred put you through, because at least you knew he was alive.

“I left,” you mumbled, lip quivering a little, “Just after the dust settled. I flew home and packed everything I owned.”

Fred scoffed across form you, and both you and George’s head shot up to look at him.

“I thought you died,” he repeated, sounding harsh.

“ ‘M sorry,” you mumbled, tasting the warm and salty tears falling into your mouth.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” George whispered from beside you, swallowing hard.

“I dunno,” you admitted, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, “I just had to leave. I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me.”

You spoke to Fred, referencing the harsh breakup a month before the war. He looked at you, hurt in his eyes.

“Of course I wanted to see you,” he said, sounding hurt that you could even think that.

“You broke it off with me, Fred, what was I supposed to think?” 

“I only did that to keep you safe!” Fred yelled.

“Well it didn’t keep me safe! It just hurt more!” you shouted back, pulling your hair off your face and behind your ears in a stressful motion.

Fred looked at you, shocked. His eyes fell to your scar, and you covered it with your hair again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke, sounding regretful.

You nodded your head, looking at the ground.

“I’ve missed you, Y/n,” George spoke, his voice soft, “here.”

He slipped a card into your hand, and you looked down at it. It was a business card. Your mouth widened into a smile, and before you could stop yourself, you were laughing.

“Did George Weasley just give me a business card?”

George smiled back at you, chuckling with you. 

You examined the card, reading the gold writing. ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley’. The card had an address on it.

“Visit the shop some time,” George said, standing, “I’ll meet you at home, Fred?”

Fred looked at George, furrowing his brow. George made a motion for Fred to sit, and Fred sighed. George hugged you and left you with Fred.

You two sat in silence, he nursed his whiskey and you picked at you fingers.

“You really were amazing up there,” Fred finally said, putting his glass on the table.

“Thank you,” you said sheepishly.

“I still love you, you know,” Fred said confidently, looking straight into your eyes.

Your lips parted, hearing the words you had wanted to hear for about a year, and you didn’t know what to say.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

Fred stood from his chair and moved over to you, sitting next to you. His hand found yours, and you sat together. Neither of you had felt anything like this in a long time. The numbness receded into you, allowing space for love and relief to fill you. Fred no longer felt the weight of guilt and worry, all that banished just by a glance at your face.

Your hand still shook in his, and he held it tightly until it stopped. He turned towards you, bringing a hand to your face. He pushed your hair off your face, looking at you scar.

“Is that from-” he trailed off, his thumb tracing the mark.

You nodded, flicking your eyes away from his. He snaked it hand behind your neck, and pulled your face close to his. His lips connected to your scar, and he held you there for a moment. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch.

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again,” he mumbled into your face.

“Me neither,” you whispered back.

[medical-gal]

Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

[mallowstep]

(Reed anon again)

Just--wtf did Riverclan do with Reedpaw when everyone was rescued? Even in Canon? Like, poor fucking Mistyfoot--two of her kits are with her, but her third and final kit is still in enemy territory, still underneath Tigerstar's paw, Blackfoot is still his mentor. If even a *hint* of Reedpaw's true parentage got out, he'd be fucked. He and Leopardstar would both probably be dead, Leopard carrying Tiger's legacy or not. Tbh I wouldn't doubt Tigerstar'd be petty enough just to kill all of Riverclan itself. Like...Greystripe, you fucking LIVED in Riverclan for a few fucking MOONS. How do you forget or at least NOT recognize/remember the queen that nursed your kits' own kits? You told Firestar you visited them every chance you had. Like...Grey, I get you were worried for you daughter, but dude...you left a child who you saw as a baby to a toddler (thereabouts) under a war criminal. Someone you KNOW had a subordinate who was not against poisoning kits with deathberries. Someone who tried to kill his OWN apprentice. Then, in the Leopard AU, this kid is stuck in the apprentices den during the rescue. Leopardstar and Mudfur cannot get him out without alerting Shadowclan Apprentices. They chose Mistyfoot and Featherpaw's heath and safety (which, at this point it's better than nothing.) And Misty has to choose Feather when Mudfur leads them out of their prison. He then gets to see the absolute horror of his LEADER, murdered, loose a life, to this Monster, see her go through what his mother did, only that IT'S far, far, worse than anything that'd been done at this point. He sees his clan's medicine cat turn against their leader, verbally agreeing and harassing her...just... this poor boy.. In Canon, Misty Au, Leopard AU it all sucks. Dark AU, not so much--still horrific, but Blackfoot is Reed's father in that one, so as his mentor Reed's safety is somewhat assured had Tigerstar not realized Reedpaw was Misty's kit, and that Misty's kits had not all died.

oh my god anon why r u so Damn Good at making me feel things

okay okay okay hm. i'm just gonna -- yeah i'm just gonna put the whole thing under a cut bc i'm a lil too tired to do the thing where i start with the pg-13 and below stuff and then do a cut.

cw: sexual assault, parent being involved in sexual assault of child

heck if i know. i'm like. 100% sure mistyfoot's kits were forgotten about. they were nameless characters for a Long time. reedpaw isn't in any of the allegiances for riverclan in tpb. i...like. i've read tpb how many times? and i honestly didn't know mistyfoot had kits until i checked out the warriors wiki and was like. oh. she had kits? with blackclaw? what the fuck?

i wouldn't put money on it, but i have a feeling the scene involving mistyfoot and her kits could be read as riverclan kits in general. again, wouldn't put money on that, it's just a hunch.

anyway, i kind of just. mistyfoot could have had another litter in the year between tpb and tnp, or during po3, or literally any other time and then we wouldn't have the reedpaw problem (tm).

WAIT

WAIT WAIT WAIT I WAS LOOKING AT THE WARRIORS WIKI AND

HE'S AN APPRENTICE IN TNP

what the FUCK

he's fucking like. several YEARS old. he's 2 and a half years old and he's a fucking apprentice oh my god just give mistyfoot a second litter it is not that hard.

actually. since mistyfoot's litter isn't named...new hc that reedwhisker is a different litter? hm. anyway.

my tangent on the reedpaw problem aside;

oh yeah, he's so fucking dead. imo prob not him and leopardstar -- riverclan would Riot if their leader was killed, and tbh, so would part of shadowclan -- but him and blackclaw. damn.

and yeah? idk? god. i don't know. tbf he's not in prison i don't even know. altho. actually, to give greystripe some credit -- the fact that mistyfoot doesn't ask to go back for him and how risky the riverclan rescue is, i think "not going back" is actually a reasonable choice.

honestly do we have an erin statement that reedwhisker is part of the same litter as prim and co. it's not on the wiki. i want to know. because i think everyone just assumed he was and -- maybe there is a statement but i want to see it.

because mistyfoot is not the type to abandon her kit. like. what? no. mistyfoot? mistyfoot? my brother just died but i am fucking fine get me the hell out of here mistyfoot? no i know i'm starving but like hell you can apprentice featherpaw to someone else mistyfoot? you're telling me SHE would leave a kit behind without so much as a word about him? fat fucking chance.

in conclusion, unless someone can provide evidence an erin said reedwhisker was part of mistyfoot's first litter, i'm going to assume the intention was that he was a second litter.

and back to the actual topic, now that i'm done for real hopefully.

yeeep. he can't be rescued. and -- mistyfoot has very few choices here. featherpaw is dying, reedpaw is safe for the moment, she won't get another chance. she's not happy about it -- she misses him so terribly much -- but she doesn't. yeah. god. that angst. i hope like. someone somehow just Tries to let reedpaw know it wasn't voluntary.

(i'm not Much One for "you left me you didn't love me" angst if you Can't tell. a pinch of it for flavour, but not as a main plot line, y'know? nothing wrong with it it's very good i just don't like writing it.)

god -- god. in my mind tigerstar takes the life from leopardstar privately bc riverclan would fucking riot but just. reedpaw realizes what's happening. so he follows bc of course he does. he's not the reason tigerstar knows what's going on, but he thinks he is.

and he's there hiding and he sees tigerstar kill leopardstar and hears him tell mudfur what's going to happen and he's sitting there in a bush or something just trying not to so much as twitch because he's so dead if tigerstar finds him. he's so fucking dead.

so he just sits there until long after tigerstar and leopardstar and mudfur have left and when he gets back to camp everyone wonders where he went and he can't explain.

and it feels terrible but he realizes tigerstar is still gloating over everything because as pissed as he is that he lost mistyfoot -- now he's truly taken out every thread of riverclan's leadership.

(frankly no i still think tigerstar's most effective control method for riverclan would be to tell stonefur that if he messes up, he'll kill the apprentices and/or mistyfoot and/or rape mistyfoot, and do leopard au on leopardstar, therefore getting all 3 riverclan leaders in blind obedience to him. he'd have to be much more discrete about leopardstar, maybe convince the clans it's a political thing, i'm not sure. the point is, nothing would Visibly be wrong, all three leaders are just going for this, and so of course riverclan would go along with it. but tigerstar's too much of a prideful asshole to appreciate another culture in enough depth to manipulate them effectively.)

anyway. so reedpaw realizes like -- ah yes. i'm escaping punishment because tigerstar is distracted. and -- god. yeah. oh my god.

and at first like -- he doesn't like. witness anything. tigerstar has some sense of subtly. not a ton -- but enough. direct evidence would be a problem. so no, reedpaw is just sitting with this knowledge in his head. mistyfoot escaped and she was carrying tigerstar's kits (was she? he hadn't seen her he misses her so much he hopes prays she's safe), so now leopardstar is going to.

and the thing about letting things sit like that is that the brain is very, very powerful.

(He called my mother a whore, Reedpaw thinks, and he wants to throw up when he remembers it.

Tigerstar and Leopardstar and Mudfur are having a conversation again and Reedpaw thinks of how Tigerstar would wrap his tail around Mistyfoot, like they were mates, and he wonders what Tigerstar would say if he didn't have to pretend.)

so. you know. yeah. good angst oh my god.

and now mudclaw has flipped from -- one of his best protectors to a great enemy. see, here's the thing. tigerstar only tells mudfur he's going to make him watch. leopardstar ain't dead that long. so reedpaw doesn't know what shadepelt knows and shadepelt would tell him but if shadepelt tries to talk to reedpaw...bad for the both of them.

and reedpaw is around blackfoot and blackfoot is a good guard and how long until -- reedpaw is asked to tell blackfoot something while blackfoot is on guard and he hears mudfur say, "You're a slut like your mother" and he -- can't. maybe he freezes, can't remember what he was supposed to tell blackfoot.

("Spit it out," Blackfoot says, but Reedpaw can't remember why he's even here.

"Even your own father thinks you're just a useless whore," Tigerstar says. He's not speaking loud -- Reedpaw would have to strain to hear the words if his entire world hadn't narrowed down to them.

"Reedpaw," Blackfoot growls. "Spit it out.")

hm. yes. god. bad. good. damn.

and yes the dark au seems like. once again "the angst is very different so i don't know how to rank its magnitude because emotions don't work like that" but. on one hand -- his dad. protection. safety. good. on the other -- his dad really did let two of his siblings die and his mom get raped, huh.

hm. good stuff.

[sleepysnk]

wait wait WAAAAAIT i was reading ur zeke x reader fic and now i need a story of zeke supporting reader while she gives birth! u cant leave me starved for content like that 😭

THE ZEKE LOVE IS REAL I SEE. everyone seems to really like the three fics about him, i decided to give you a 4th one, because let's be honest we need to see what happens to reader lol. i hope you enjoy! ♡

Zeke x Fem!Reader: I Promise Pt. 2

Warnings: Mentions of birth/pregnancy, some slight manga spoilers

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It had been about 9 months since (Y/N) had gotten pregnant. She could barely even believe that so much time has gone by.

The girl had been through so much, dealing with the sleepless nights, constantly peeing, food cravings, mood swings, etc! She didn't know that pregnancy would be such a crazy thing. She just assumed her whole life that it would be easy, but boy was she wrong.

(Y/N) was lucky to have Zeke by her side. He cared for her a lot, and the two spent a lot of time together. Sometimes he would have to disappear for reasons she knew were understandable, and she did have to deal with some things on her own.

(Y/N) was beyond excited to meet her baby. She was due in any day now, but she showed little to no signs of any birth happening soon. It confused her a lot, she thought that maybe the baby was just taking its time to come out.

Zeke was also very excited too. Being a dad was something he's always wanted to be, even if it was unexpected. He loved babies, and he had major baby fever at the moment. He would always find himself holding her stomach, or laying his head to feel somewhat close to his child. It always made (Y/N)'s heart flutter.

He dealt with a lot. He knew pregnancy was very serious, and having to deal with her mood swings, and all that other stuff was quite the hassle. Nevertheless, he still cared and dealt with it as time went on.

(Y/N) and Zeke would always play argue about what the gender might be. Zeke wanted a girl, but (Y/N) wanted a boy. The two would talk for hours about names and all that kind of stuff.

Watching her belly grow was probably the most beautiful thing Zeke ever saw. The way her stomach just grew more and more made him so happy. He couldn't explain it, but he just loved seeing her grow. It made him feel warm and fuzzy.

Zeke was currently away, he had to deal with some things with Marley, so he couldn't be with (Y/N). He told her before he left, that if anything happened, she was to get Pieck or Reiner. Of course, she assured him she would be fine, and she could take care of herself.

He didn't like leaving when she was so close to her due date. Zeke didn't want her to be alone, but he didn't have much of a choice.

(Y/N) was optimistic though, she knew what to do if her baby came. She had to just wait and see what would happen. That was really all she could do right?

"How long is he going to be gone for?" Mia asked as she approached (Y/N) in the kitchen.

She sighed. "Not sure... another day maybe? He'll be back soon though" she replied and shrugged.

Mia nodded. "Let's hope he's back in time, you're practically going to pop (Y/N)" she said and chuckled a bit.

(Y/N) drank some of her tea. "Yeah me too, I have been having contractions. Nothing too major though" she said.

Her friend looked at her. "You know where I'm at if anything happens" she said and gave her a smile.

(Y/N) nodded. "Of course Mia.. thank you" she said.

Mia stood up. "Well I'll be going now. Let me know if anything happens" she said and made her way towards the door.

(Y/N) waved and watched as she exited her home. It was getting kind of late. She decided to just head off to bed. She was already very fatigued anyway, this pregnancy made her sleep all the time, and she hated it. She missed having bursts of energy.

She lied in her bed thinking of Zeke and how much she missed his presence. He would always leave her flowers or little love notes to make her feel comfort when she felt lonely, and she absolutely adored it everytime. It always somehow gave her butterflies.

When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she felt off. She had this feeling in her gut that something wasn't right, but she didn't know exactly what it was.

Zeke was ready to go and see (Y/N). He got let go pretty early, so he decided that he would make his way to go and see her. Though, he had to make a few stops on the way before that could happen.

(Y/N) had gotten dressed and showered. She still couldn't help but feel extremely off. She looked in the mirror, and admired her face. Maybe she was just tired? She wasn't sure, but she got some good rest the night before. She exited her room and went to her kitchen to grab something to eat, her cravings were high this morning.

That's when she stopped. Something wet was going down her legs.

Her water had just broken.

(Y/N)'s eyes went wide at the sight of her soaked pants, and suddenly she felt pain. They felt like contractions, but they weren't at all. Her baby was on the way.

"Shit!" she cried out as the pain struck her.

She had to get to Mia. She was the only person nearby that could help her. The pain was making her vision dizzy, and she struggled to get up.

She wobbled her way outside of her home. "Mia!" (Y/N) cried out as she looked around outside.

Mia opened the door to her home, and saw (Y/N) doubled over in pain. "Oh my god! (Y/N)! What's going on!? Is the baby coming?" she asked.

She nodded. "Yes Mia! Please we need to go to the doctor now!" she yelled as she held her lower stomach.

Mia began to help (Y/N) walk to the doctor's. Luckily, the doctors office wasn't too far from where she lived, so it wasn't a very long trip. (Y/N) was sobbing in pain. Mia couldn't bare listening to her best friend cry in pain, but she wanted to be there.

Reiner turned the corner and saw (Y/N) being carried over by Mia. "Shit! (Y/N)! Are you alright?" he asked and rushed over.

She struggled to stand up. "N-No! My baby is coming you idiot!" she yelled.

He looked at Mia who was struggling a bit as well. "Shit, I got her Mia. Go find Zeke, he should be back" Reiner said and picked up (Y/N) bridal style.

Mia nodded. "Alright, be careful. I'll be back (Y/N)" she said and began to quickly run off.

Reiner rushed to the doctor's. "Help! She's pregnant and she's going to give birth" he yelled as he entered in.

The nurse stood up and rushed over. "Oh gosh! Okay! Bring her back over here" she said and ran to a back room.

Reiner took (Y/N) and placed her on the bed. "Fuck!" she yelled as the pain radiated throughout her body.

The nurse began to remove her clothes. "What's your name? How far along are you sweetheart?" she asked.

"(Y/N) (L/N). I'm 9 months! Argh!" she cried out.

The doctor came in. "Okay (Y/N)! We're going to see where your baby's head is" he said and looked down.

(Y/N) was screaming and crying. Reiner stood there trying to calm her down.

Mia was running around trying to figure out where the hell Zeke was, Reiner said he was supposed to be back already. She wasn't sure how long her best friend had until that baby came out.

She spotted him from afar talking to Pieck. "Zeke!" Mia yelled as she ran towards him.

He stopped and noticed how frantic she was. "Huh? Mia? What's up? Is something wrong?" he asked and furrowed his brows.

"It's (Y/N)! Her water broke this morning! She's giving birth right now" Mia replied.

Zeke felt like everything went in slow motion. "I have to go" he said and looked at Pieck.

She nodded. "Go. She needs you" she said and gave a smile.

Zeke and Mia practically sprinted their way to get to the doctor's office.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was a total mess. She was in so much pain, and her body was practically screaming. Reiner tried his best to make her feel calm, and to make her feel more relaxed, but she was giving birth. Not much he could do anyway.

"Okay (Y/N), these next few moments are going to be very difficult. Relax and take a deep breath" the doctor said and looked at her.

(Y/N) nodded. "O-Okay" she said and looked at Reiner.

"We're going to induce you okay? This is going to help your cervix dilate. It'll be easier for the baby to come out" he said.

She looked up at the ceiling trying her best to get comfortable. She needed Zeke right now, he was the only thing that could calm her and make her feel at ease.

"Sir we need you to stay here" the nurse said in the other room.

Zeke rolled his eyes. "My girlfriend is in labor right now! I don't give a shit" he replied.

(Y/N) opened her eyes and heard his voice. "Is that Zeke?" she asked and looked at Reiner.

"Is he your boyfriend?" the doctor asked and looked up at her.

She nodded. "Y-Yes... please let him in" she replied and gripped the sheets.

"Nurse let him in!" the doctor yelled.

The nurse moved so Zeke could enter. He saw (Y/N)'s face scrunched in pain. "(Y/N)!" he said as he ran to her bed side.

She turned her head towards him. "You're finally here.." she said and smiled at him.

He smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world" he replied and held her hand.

"Okay (Y/N).. you're gonna need to push just a bit. I need you to help her through this" the doctor said and looked at Zeke.

He nodded. "Got it" he replied and looked at her.

(Y/N) began to push, and as she did she cried out in pain. "It's okay (Y/N)! Keep pushing, you got this my love" Zeke said and held her hand.

She squeezed his hand tightly as she kept pushing. "Oh shit! Fuck! This hurts so bad!" she yelled.

The doctor looked under the blanket. "You're doing great! Once we see its head, you'll have to do one big push" the doctor said and looked at her.

Zeke kissed her hand. "You got this... I'm right here (Y/N). Just breathe" he said trying to reassure her.

She started to push again, she felt the pain starting to feel worse. She felt like she was going to pass out from all of it.

"Almost done! I see its head! One more push and it'll be out" the doctor said and smiled at her.

(Y/N) nodded. "Okay... fuck! I don't think I can do this.." she said and felt tears slip out of her eyes.

Zeke looked at her and wiped the tears from her face. "You can do it, I know you can. One more push... and it'll be done" he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She swallowed and looked down at the doctor. "Okay.. okay! One more push.." she said and looked up at the ceiling.

She then pushed once again, and she screamed as loud as she could. "Nurse! Get me a blanket!" the doctor yelled.

She sighed and looked at doctor. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

He smiled as the nurse came in with blankets. "It's a boy!" He yelled happily.

(Y/N) became overcome with emotion. She heard the cries coming from the baby. Zeke looked over astonished, he couldn't believe their son was born. He felt tears come to his eyes as well, he never thought he would be able to have a child.

"Here you go (Y/N).. you did so well" the doctor said and smiled.

He handed her the baby. She smiled and looked up at Zeke, the baby had her (e/c) eyes, and his blonde hair. He was the cutest thing she had ever seen. Mia and Reiner stood in the doorway smiling at the two.

"He's so... beautiful" (Y/N) said and smiled at her baby.

Zeke nodded. "He's perfect" he replied and gave a kiss on her head.

"Do you both have a name?" the nurse asked and smiled at them.

The two looked at each other. "Anthony!" (Y/N) replied and looked excitedly at Zeke.

He nodded. "Anthony it is" he said and looked back at the baby.

(Y/N) felt so tired, her body felt like giving out in the moment. "You did so well" Zeke said and smiled at her.

She laughed a bit. "I wouldn't have been able to do without you" she replied and looked at him.

"I love you.." he said.

(Y/N) felt her heart flutter at those words. "I love you too Zeke..." she said.

"I promise to stay by your side" he said and held her hand.

"You promise?" she asked.

He smiled. "I promise" he replied.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)

[cloveroctobers]

ELLADINE SARABI

IG info/bio: @/ellasardineabi | 18.5k followers | Artist | i was born with glass bones and paper skin♡

25 years old

Born & raised in Cardiff, Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

Father was in the n*vy and moved his family around a few times until he and his wife came to a agreement that it would be best for the family to grow up in one solid place

whereas he would leave for months at a time living elsewhere

Which was hard on the family at times since he is viewed as the rock of the family

He eventually left the n*vy after serving 20 years & was so thankful to, he hated it and how it messed with him mentally

He’s also of Iranian heritage

Her mother is of German heritage

Has her own restaurant that serves authentic German food

Both of her parents instilled hard work, discipline, generosity, and how to be practical in their children

Elladine is the middle child

Has a brother that is ten years older than her and then a younger sister who is seven years behind her

Canon: there is currently a discussion going on if they are going to bring their (maternal) nan/mam-gu home since the nursing home isn’t providing the proper care their nan needs

Her mother has a rocky relationship with her mother that she doesn’t like to discuss with her children but her husband knows all about it

Her nan has Alzheimer's and is becoming violent

it has become difficult seeing her most days

Elladine came into glassblowing after being involved in many classes in secondary such as workshop class

which became her fav since she was able to manipulate many materials such as metal, wood, and glass

She also took a auto body class which was interesting but she wasn’t too thrilled about it. Got away with a B- but knew she could do better if she really wanted to but she didn’t need the class to graduate so allow it

Currently works in a glass studio where her work is displayed/sold and she’s one of the main ones that makes great profit

has bought her own space for her own studio and is slowly making it to her liking with her assistant, yes she’s got one!

Hopes to be in that space within the next 6 months...it would have been a little sooner if we weren’t dealing with a global p*ndemic!!! but ya know life f*cking sucks sometimes!!!1!!:) especially if people don’t gaf

Moved back in with her parents so that she could not only help with her nan but get her studio ready, her parents approved since she was working towards something and realized her talent

I definitely see elladine going through a grunge phase and it probably still slips out every now and then lol

Her childhood room is still in shades of raspberry, gray, and a deep purple

always been plus-sized/fuller than the rest but it’s literally hereditary since her mom is built the same way who got it from her dad

Her family never made her feel ashamed as they shouldn’t and none of her true friends made her feel different since they were all of different sizes!!! besides who’s really friends with someone because of their bodies? Ur really ugly if that’s how u roll js

Always a respectful student and not too afraid to spark up a convo with you but can be a little nervous if the person is more of a “I have to warm up to you first” since she’ll feel like she’s annoying you if she carries the convo at first

Takes her time in relationships because she’s scared of getting hurt, cause breakups are not fun! Especially if theyre your friend on top of that

Although Friendship breakups are much worse let’s be honest here!!!

Has noticed that a few of her exes like to bring up that she’s controlling or too bossy in relationships and that makes her a little insecure since she doesn’t view it that way??

She knows what she wants and likes things a certain way, and she can see how it can kinda come off that way based on how she approaches/says things and tries to be better at toning it down and not being offensive to her significant others

Always has a plan and likes to follow it, she definitely keeps to-do lists on a daily

Takes trips to see Nicky often and vice-versa, every moment they spend together feels like it’s meant to be, even when it’s them just simply chilling in each other’s spaces, he’s truly one of her best friends and he feels like the missing part of her life

He offered for her to move in with him but elladine didn’t accept it since she wanted to be there to help with her nan and in fact—she wanted to be the one to ask HIM to move in with her

but if they make it long enough, they’ll go house hunting together...maybe

I get Shawn/Angela relationship vibes from them (boy meets world for those who aren’t aware of this couple and I’m not just saying this because they’re interracial as well lol) did I say this already about someone else? Brain fart lol

everyone relationship has their flaws so when they hit a bump in the road...elladine immediately wants to fix it but it comes off as more critiquing, moodiness/blaming the other

while Nicky can be defensive/argumentive/a little condescending on his end

To get through it, they normally go on a walk together in complete silence until they’re ready to speak again or they take a break from each other

I think words of affirmation is her love language

Taurus sun + Virgo moon + Capricorn rising?

“The girl on the motorcycle” is one of her fav films — no this is not metaphoric to her love life

Loves watching things with captions on since she always finds herself doing something else while watching anything (which irks Nicky a little bit but that’s just the way elladine is and he loves her so he deals with it)

Will rewind something if she missed it too

Canon: never had morning sex before

but can now say she has ;) & understands the pros people say about it and it outweighs the cons in her book

Will start the whole song over too if she missed her fav part in it

She also enjoys billiards since her brother used to work in a pool hall and when he had to watch her because she was “too young” in her words to stay home by herself he would take her there even tho technically she wasn’t supposed to be there but he was screwing his boss’s daughter so it was quite fine

her sister has a crush on Gary & ships elladine with him, which they joke about every now and then + he doesn’t follow her back, which is okay! Not a big deal but her sister keeps sliding in his dms (he’s now single)

She NEVER thought she would be on THE love island and wasn’t that confident that she’d find a real love that carried on outside of the show but Nicky has proven her wrong 🥲

She’s 5’5–5’6

Probably shops at Zara & top shop and has no issue picking pieces that flatter her “pear” figure, she loves all that is of her body: the pudge, love handles, cellulite and all (she’s very confident and won’t let anyone see her moments of doubt when it comes to her frame)

Loves mythology but will tell bill stfu if he comes near her trying to argue about anything in that subject

Very competitive and will rush through certain things, leaving one to think that she’ll fail somewhere but rarely does

If she’s not near or away from the mountains or the sea for long period of time she gets very moody!!! Guess that’s the Welsh in her huh?

Loves fireplaces, they’re super cozy and very romantic if you catch ella’s drift 😏

Probably smells like jasmine & pink pepper idk

Wants to travel to Iceland one day

Knows her way around a car but dreads having to get it fixed or fixing it herself?

Loves driving until her road rage kicks in? Oh you’re gonna go around her to get in front of her? Never that. She’ll always be in front of you and will break check you if you try her “Drewgi” she mutters

Early riser and goes to bed early too lol

She’s the crying drunk lmao

Automatically vieve has become one of her best friends from the villa but it deff didn’t feel forced like it normally would have just because their bfs have a podcast together, they talk about everything together. EVERYTHING! It feels like she’s the big sister she never had, yet they’re only a year apart lol

They have ft sleepovers and man is it fun!

Forgave lily but at the same time can’t fully see herself being friends with her like vieve tried to encourage before they went on the yacht...sorry everything can’t be Kumbaya over here sis

It sucks to say but it was easier? She doesn’t know if that’s the right term or not... for her to forgive rafi than it was lily and it’s fucked up but that’s the way it is. It’s not like she contacts him on seperate messages or anything like that! She’ll talk to him via group chat and that’s pretty much it. She knows it was all part of the show and production’s bs for ratings but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t hurt

Wishes him success on his shows/movies but doesn’t engage/watch them

What does she post? I feel like she posts maybe three times a month and a lot are outfit pics but tends to go live more so to chat with the people! She’ll also show all what glassblowing entails while chatting away! She loves that part and is pretty open about things but knows how to keep some things private

Personally wasn’t the biggest fan of season 1 but admits she wishes she had mc’s balls in terms of what she would have done if she was in elladine’s place when lily picked Nicky, “ugh! I wish I had her strength rising through my veins in that moment. Absolute riot. Adore her.”

‘“Licky” is a ugly ass ship name anyways so who’s really winning here?!’

Celeb crushes? Iwan Rheon, Henry Zaga, Anthony Welsh, jason derulo, & LaRoyce Hawkins

Listens to: soleima, Marisa Maino, Ava Max, poppy, Caroline polachek, Donny Hathaway, Phil Good, & SAINt JHN

Anthem — M.I.A. “Bad Girls”

[ragnarachael]

i’ll live to see another day

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ER Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 2,093

Summary: You're finally back in your apartment from your long shift at Metro-General, but your mystical boyfriend decided you couldn't take a break yet.

Warnings: we got sum INJURIES, BLOOD, INACCURATE MEDICAL TALK, and stephen strange feeling guilty for even asking you to do this. he loves u. he promises.

MASTERLIST !  FEEDBACK !

You unlocked the door to your apartment, expecting it to be empty.

Yet Stephen Strange stood in your kitchen, the smell of coffee wafting through the air.

“Stephen?” You questioned, letting out a soft sigh as you placed your bag down, tossing your keys on the small hallway cabinet you had near the door. You heard him call back when your eyes caught some drops of red. You shuffled alongside the small trail that seemingly led to the kitchen.

That's when you found Stephen, who was hunched over your kitchen counter, dressed in street clothes for once in his mystic life, holding on tightly to a novelty mug you got from a trip to Universal Studios.

His shirt was absolutely drenched in blood, which was what made it clinging to his left side.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you!?” You were quick to walk to his side as he grunted, standing up straight as your hands found the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Stephen hissed out in retaliation as you got his shirt up to see what looked like a stab wound. You had half the mind to keep your eyes trained on your hands, quick to switch into nurse mode.

“Do not sweetheart me right now, Stephen.” It was quick, stern, and Stephen definitely knew he was in deep shit.

You’d probably make him repay you by cleaning up his blood from your floors while you clean the counters.

Stephen let out another gasp as your hands let the shirt fall back down, a quick mumble of an apology heard before you were off rushing to your bathroom for your first aid kit.

You were still in your scrubs from your shift, and Stephen was already blaming himself and feeling guilty. But he had nowhere else to go.

He couldn’t go to the hospital, too many wandering eyes along with the fact that he was too proud of himself for not going to Metro-General again. Claire was out helping an apparent mutual friend named Mike, whoever the hell that was to Stephen, and Christine was out of town.

You were the only option left, and he didn’t like having to subject you to cleaning him up when he’s hurt since he knew you couldn’t stand seeing people you love in pain. 

Just like him.

“Okay, was it a regular blade or another magical one that will make me want to strangle you for even trying to fight off?” You asked suddenly as you flew back through your living room from the bathroom, navigating without even looking up from the medical pack back to the kitchen, digging through the bag.

“It seemed like a normal blade,” Stephen replied. “Do you need me to—”

“No, I got it,” you said in a motherly tone, pointing to one of the dining chairs you have with your small table in the kitchen, “sit. Maybe take your shirt off so I can use it as a rag. And yes, I can get the blood out when I’m done.”

Stephen tried not to feel dejected when you denied his help and did was he was told once he put the coffee mug down, suddenly very happy he already shrugged his jacket off when he first sling-ringed in.

You placed the bag along with some extra supplies on your small dining room table as Stephen yanked his shirt off, trying not to make any noises of pain before the grey fabric was held out your way.

Thanking Stephen as you grabbed the shirt, you decided to kneel between his open legs to have better access to his side. You started getting to work by gently dabbing the wound with his shirt to soak up most of the excess blood before starting to sanitize.

Watching you work was always a treat for Stephen. He’s been told multiple times by you that it’s weird that he likes watching his girlfriend as she’s sewing up his wounds that he could have wound up dead from.

You were good at what you did, was his instant reply. Stephen was never one who complimented doctors or nurses on their techniques much, before and after you met him, but you took his word almost as law. If Doctor Stephen Strange said you were good at what you did, you must be pretty damn good.

“What’d you even get this from?” You asked in exasperation, moving to dig through the med pack again for what Stephen could only assume was a needle and thread. It was a deep wound, he was sure of it.

“I uh, was on a mission with Stark and his boy band,” Stephen started, shifting with a grunt working it’s way out of his throat, “had a tussle with Loki.”

You didn’t hesitate to hold back a scoff. “That’s bullshit.”

Stephen loved you, even if you could call out his bullshit.

“You’re right, it’s bullshit,” Stephen replied almost directly after you spoke, clearing his throat. “Wong and I had this thing to attend at Kamar-Taj and it got ruined by some intergalactic stuff, got stabbed by one of our own who we believe was an insider on the whole ordeal.”

“Ah,” you mused, both in response to Stephen’s story and finding the needle you were looking for, “more Mystic Art’s lingo I don’t get, gotcha.”

Stephen let out a small laugh, tilting his head back. “Mystic Art’s lingo? I expected to hear mumbo jumbo.”

“All I heard were the words intergalactic and Kamar-Taj and I knew.”

Stephen was about to let out another laugh before he let out a loud hiss of pain just as the needle went through his skin.

“You’re smart though, you know bigger words than those, Y/N.”

“Not when I’ve just gotten off an almost 24 hour shift, Stephen,” you responded, Stephen more than likely detecting your undertones of annoyance.

It was quiet between the two of you for a bit after that, smoothly stitching Stephen up just as the sun started to rise. He shuddered, your abnormally cold hands constantly moving.

“I’m sorry.”

Stephen was sincere. He usually isn’t with Claire, for the two of them love verbally sparring. Christine doesn’t take it, but with you he always finds himself apologizing constantly, even if you never prompted him for it and already reassured him that he’s fine.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, finally finishing the last stitch. “I’m just happy you didn’t bleed on my rug.”

The both of you shared a laugh.

“I knew you’d kill me, the kitchen was my only option.”

“Why didn’t you go to Claire’s? Usually she takes care of this.” You expertly finished off the stitch before grabbing scissors to cut the excess thread.

“She’s uh.. She said she’s with our mutual friend Mike?”

“Oh! Mike!” Your face lit up the second the name was mentioned, slowly shifting into a squatting position so you were already on your feet before to place the needle down and grab the big bandage you laid out previously. “How’s he?”

“Wait, who’s Mike?”

Your face when you looked up at him almost made him laugh.

“Mike? Are you joking? Are we not remembering the codename talk?”

“Codename talk?” 

You groaned dramatically, peeling open the bandage as Stephen just now noticed you were wearing gloves. It made sense, your hands were never that cold when you touched him. 

It took him a moment to remember what you meant by the codename talk, but when he did he sat up a little straighter which helped you conveniently place the bandage on his freshly stitched wound.

“Oh! The codename we use on the phone!”

“Christ, it took you that long?” You quipped as you carefully smoothed the bandage down before rubbing the edges.

“It’s been a long day, okay? And Matt’s doing fine as he can get if Claire’s helping him out,” Stephen replied as he looked down at your gloved hands, watching you smooth the edges down that you had missed.

“Very true. Sad that on Claire’s only day off she’s still technically doing her job.”

“You would prefer a blind vigilante climbing through your windows and ask to be stitched up instead of me? I’m hurt, Y/N. Truly hurt.”

“You can’t climb through windows, Stephen. You sling-ring in and come in unannounced. At least with Matt I’d know if he came in,” you explained playfully before placing your hands on his spread knees to help get back up on your feet before taking your gloves off.

“Not all the time!”

“Yes, all the time!”

“No!” Stephen exclaimed again as if he were a child, holding back a grunt as he moved to try and sit normally, his hand flying almost instantly to his bandage.

“How’d you get in here?” You questioned sternly, placing your hands on your hips. 

You definitely got your answer when he didn’t reply right away.

“My point exactly.” 

“Matt’s footsteps are light! Remember the one time he came in through one of the windows of the Sanctum and scared the hell out of me?” You let out a laugh as you tossed the gloves into your trashcan, walking to your cabinet where the mugs were.

“You had your headphones in, Stephen, why else would you be scared? I could do that with or without powers!” You exclaimed with a quiet snort, opening the cabinet door before looking over at Stephen as he tried to find the will to get up. “Do you need help, baby?”

Stephen just groaned in defeat from your statement before slowly rising to his feet from the chair as you picked a mug he’d bought you from a small souvenir shop when he actually did go on a mission with Stark and his circus.

“No thank you, dear. Should be fine,” Stephen confirmed as he started to slowly pad over to where you stood, watching you hesitantly reach for the hot coffee pot.

“Are you sure? You have the too much gene, remember—”

“Y/N, I’m more than sure my stitches won’t reopen just from me walking around.”

You let out a soft sigh before nodding to yourself, a quiet okay coming from under your breath.

Stephen could still hear the worry in your voice and couldn't help but feel his heart tug with guilt again. Grabbing his still warm mug, he decided to lean against the counter to watch you make your coffee in what felt like a record time. 

You were placing the small container of sugar you have back where it belonged when Stephen spoke up again.

“Thank you.”

“You already said that,” you replied gently, starting to carefully stir your coffee with a smaller spoon as you turned around to face Stephen.

“I know but.. I’m just feeling thankful.”

You squinted at that sentence and felt your hip jutting out. “Are there more injuries I need to fix?”

Stephen could tell that your eyes were inspecting his bare top half just as he sipped his coffee.

“No. I just love you.” Stephen tried to hold back a chuckle as he watched your eyes roll, a fond smile growing on your face.

“Shut up. Do you want a fresh shirt?”

Stephen smiled smugly as he lifted his mug to take another sip. “Nah. I think you like this view.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put a shirt on, Strange,” you quipped, finally stopping your stirring motion and tapping the spoon on the side of the mug. “Pink Floyd?”

Stephen placed his mug on the counter top of your kitchen counter, a soft thud left in its wake as you innocently placed the spoon you used in the sink.

“That’s where it went? Don't tell me you stole my Led Zepplin shirt, too."

He heard a second soft thud of a mug after you took a sip, starting to walk towards the arch way of the kitchen to get out and grab something for him to wear.

"That's a secret I'll never tell." You smiled innocently as you stopped in your tracks just in front of him before getting up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. "Hang tight. I'll get the Pink Floyd shirt for you."

Stephen couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face after he felt your lips one last time on his before you walked out, heading to the direction of your bedroom. He was quick to call out another thank you, to which you replied with a thumbs up sticking out from your bedroom doorway just as you walked in.

[regular-nessian-trash]

It’s Vegas, Baby - Chapter II

Summary: Nesta goes out to the store and so does Cassian. Classic Nesta, she thinks he’s stalking her. Trust me it’s more interesting than it sounds lol(I hope)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm back on my grind yall *sunglasses emoji*

Nicknames:

Feyby- Feyre(its supposed to be like feyre and baby put together cause shes the baby of the family)

Nestella- Nesta(its supposed to be nesta and nutella. u will learn more later;)

Tiny Ancient One- Amren(kinda self explanatory)

Mor Boobiez Plz- Mor(idk i just thought it was funny lol)

"I'm home!" Nesta calls out to Feyre. She can smell pizza and instantly strides towards the kitchen, where she finds Feyre with a large cheese pizza still in the box, half-eaten.

"Finally! I was beginning to wonder if you and Cassian finally acknowledged the sexual tension between yourselves and fucked."

"Feyre! That is not appropriate to say at all! Cassian and I are barely colleagues, we will never be anything so stop with your meddling!" Nesta replied, trying to will down a bright red blush. Feyre and her boyfriend, Rhys, had this insane idea that she and Cassian were made for each other, it didn't help that Cassian was constantly flirting with her either.

"We're back!" Mor and Amren had just gotten home from some party, with Mor holding Duchess, their shared Chinese Crested Dog. When the four of them bought a penthouse together Feyre and Mor wanted a dog, and Nesta and Amren didn't. After begging and pleading with her sister and friend to please give him away after they adopted him they finally decided to just lock her, Amren, and Duchess in a room together. They all became friends, and they found out that Duchess was, in fact, a boy. They had been calling him Duchess for too long, though, so when they called him Duke he wouldn't reply so the name just stuck. When the rest of their inner circle found out-"the rest" being Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys- they didn't stop teasing them for days. In their defense, he had a very small you-know-what and he was a very ladylike boy.

"Bring my baby boy to me! Oh I wove you so much you wittle cutie pie!" Feyre was letting Duchess lick her face, making Nesta gag. Sure she loved the dog, but seriously, he licks his butt.

"Ugh, Mor, your cousin is working me to the bone! And he won't stop trying to push me and Cassian together! He thinks he can push us together just cause we “have hella sexual tension”! Also, I was thinking about this last night, Rhys is dating Feyre and if I'm Feyres sister and he's Cassians brother, that's literally incest!"

"You know they aren't actually brothers, right? They're just best friends." Mor replied, trying not to laugh at Nesta's flustered expression. She put down Duchess and reached for a slice of pizza. Everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before Nesta and Cassian got together. Nesta and Mor were the only single people in the house, not including Duchess. And Mor was just recently dumped so she was in a big love life meddling mood. Amren was dating some guy named Varian, and Feyre... Well, let's just say that it's a miracle that she's here right now and not out getting nailed by Rhys.

"I know that, but still. They refer to themselves as brothers."  

"So you're saying that if they didn't call themselves brothers you would have sex with Cassian! I knew it!"

"No, Feyre, I am not saying that! Besides, he flirts with everyone so even if I was into him- which I am not - we probably wouldn't become a thing."

"Keyword being probably." Mor says with a smirk.

"Enough of all this bickering, I'm hungry and bored so someone turn on the T.V. while I make some popcorn." Amren quickly breaks them up before Nesta tears off someone's head.

~~~~~

Cassian pulled up at the townhouse he shared with his brothers. All the lights were turned off which meant that Az was sleeping, or not home. The former was more likely because Az usually got pizza on his rest nights and there were three cold slices of meat lovers pizza left. Cassian was so hungry, he ended up eating them cold. He fought back a moan at how delicious the pizza was. He would never understand how Nesta was able to be a vegetarian. Shit. He had been such a dick to Nesta earlier. She was genuinely concerned about him and he had just pushed her away.

Cassian pulled out his phone and checked instagram. Mor had posted a photo of her and Amren with their dog, Duchess, at a party. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry at the fact that a misgendered dog had a better social life than he did.

~~~~~

“Ugh, Feyre, Tomas and his little gang showed up at work last night.” Nesta and Feyre were chilling in the kitchen, the latter making a breakfast spread that would put Disney Channel moms to shame. Amren and Mor were nursing killer hangovers, so Feyre made sure to bang around a ton in the kitchen.

“Again? A-fucking-gain? Nuthin new, nuthin changed? Same old shit. Same old fuckin shit.” Feyre replied, forgetting that Nesta had no idea what that reference meant.

“I told them to leave and that I almost had the money to pay them back, but Tomas just slapped my ass and said ‘sEe YoU oN yOuR nExT sHiFt’ then he got up and left.”

“You do realize that we could end all of this by just telling Rhys? I know you have this whole thing about your pride and shit, but we could tell Rhys and he could pay off all your debts to him.”

“Feyre, I appreciate it, but I need to fight my own battles. I got myself into this mess, so I sure as hell can get myself out of it. Plus, I don’t like the idea of feeling like I owe my current employer money.”

“Nesta, sweetie, I love you… BUT YOU NEED TO PUT YOUR DAMN PRIDE TO THE SIDE FOR LIKE, TWO SECONDS AND ACCEPT HELP!”

“FEYRE-”

“Okay, can we yell about Nesta's issues at some time other than 6am? Also, is that bacon I smell?” Mor walked in holding her head and wearing one of Nesta's sweatshirts with some leggings.

“Yes, fattie. And it’s like, 10:30.” Feyre slapped Mor's hand away from a stack of pancakes cooling on the countertop.

“And I do not have any issues, Mor. I’m not the one that went partying with a dog last night.”

“Nesta, that is exactly the reason why you have issues. If you went partying with Duchess, maybe you would loosen up a bit. God knows you need it.”

“Brat.” Nesta threw a piece of toast at Mor's head.

“Thanks! Hey, Feyre, pass the butter.” Feyre slid the butter across the counter and cursed loudly when it just slid on the floor at Mor's feet. Facedown.

“Really, Feyre?” Nesta said in an exasperated tone.

“I’m sorry! I thought she would catch it!”

“That was our last stick of butter, you absolute dingbat!” Nesta sighed and picked up the keys to her car.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, ever the worried friend thinking she had caused a family feud.

“To the store. We need more milk and eggs anyways. Tell me if you guys are gonna go out while I’m gone.” Nesta walked out the door of their spacious apartment and made her way over to the elevator, pressing the ground level button. She stormed over to her car, got in, and slammed the door shut. On her way to the store, she noticed that one of the local book stores was having a sale. She tried to ignore the voice in her head telling her that she had piles of unread books in her room, and all over the other communal areas of the apartment. She would just pop in after picking up the groceries. No big deal. She could restrain herself. Maybe.

~~~~    

Cassian woke up and made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen at 10am.

Hey sorry don’t be mad but here’s the shopping list. I had to go out.

~Azriel

“Unbelievable.” Cassian sighed and picked up the piece of paper attached to Azriel's little note and crumpled it up. Then he uncrumpled it because he remembered he needed to see what it said. Cassian walked up to his room and threw on a sweatshirt, some slip-on vans, and grabbed his keys. He couldn’t remember why they decided to share groceries. He wanted to in the beginning, but now that he woke up without any food in the house because his brothers had eaten all of it he was thinking or re-evaluating that decision. Cassian slid into his car and made his way to the store.

~~~~

When Nesta pulled up at the store she checked her phone and saw that Feyre had sent her a text while she was driving.

Feyby*: heyyyyyyyyy nes can you pleeeeeeeeeease get me some chocolate while you’re out :)?

Nestella*: k. anything else? im walking in now by the way

Feyby: nope! thank you love you! :)

Nestella: love you too

Nesta made her way towards the dairy aisle and picked up some 2% milk, a pack of four sticks of butter, and eggs. She quickly walked over to the candy aisle and began studying all her options, she took candy selecting very seriously.

“Nes?”

~~~~

Cassian walked into the store and quickly picked up all the stuff on the list. Once he got to the last few items written he realized he wanted ice-cream for a movie night with the boys. He walked over to the dairy aisle and picked up a tub of cookies n’ cream right when Nesta Archeron stormed past him towards the candy aisle. He followed her because, well, he wanted to talk to her. But he needed to act like he wasn't stalking her cause she might yell at him.

“Nes?”

“Mother Above, Cassian! You scared the shit out of me don’t you dare do that ever again!”

Oh well.

“How did you not hear me coming? Are you really that focused on chocolate?”

“I’m selecting some chocolate for Feyre, and she is very picky so I was focused on reading what the ingredients were in each bar.” She seemed to have recovered from the scare because she just grabbed a random chocolate bar and stormed past him.

“Obviously you don’t care that much if you’re willing to just grab a random bar and walk away!” Cassian yelled at Nesta. Some other shoppers began to stare at him so he quickly said “Don’t worry, we work together. I know her, I’m not some random creep haha.” That just got him more strange looks though so he just made his way towards self-checkout and paid for the items and skirted outta there.

~~~~

Nesta was so embarrassed while walking away from Cassian. People were staring at her! Ugh, Cassian needs to learn to not yell in public places. She walked over to her car after checking out and loaded her groceries into the boot. She needed a black iced coffee stat. Nesta began the quick drive to one of the local coffee shops and once she arrived she quickly sent the girls a text letting them know where she was.

Nestella: hey bitches im getting coffee you hoes want anything

Feyby: i want a mocha frappe pleeease              

Tiny Ancient One*: just get me a black americano girl

Mor Boobiez Plz*: i wanna iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel

Nestella: okay for everyone except Mor cause wtf that's not even an item on the menu

Mor Boobiez Plz: it is i swear! just ask them for it they did it when i asked!

Nestella: fine

“What can I get for you?” The guy working the register asked in a very monotone voice.

“One black iced coffee, one black americano, one mocha frappe, and one iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel sauce.”

“We don’t do that last one-” Nesta gave him a withering glare and he immediately changed his mind on what he was about to say.

“Those will be ready soon ma’am. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Nesta. Thank you.” Nesta walked over to the opposite side of the counter to wait while their coffee was being prepared.

“That was quite impressive the way you scared him into doing what you wanted him to, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian! Are you stalking me? Go away.”

“I’m not stalking you, I’m just here to get some coffee.” He smirked at her and picked up a latte that was set down beside him. He took a sip and looked Nesta up and down before smirking and saying “Hot.” he winked at her and left before she could yell at him. If he was being honest the coffee was actually the perfect temperature, but he just loved getting under Nesta Archerons skin.    

[strvwberryblcnde]

👫 preston & scout

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons i have about our muses’ relationship.

i cn imagine them somehow being wrangled into babysitting fr her sister bethan one time n.... she has three kids who r all young (like 6, 7 n 7 bc she had twin boys then a girl) n they’re all a handful in their own way. the boys r SO boisterous n loud like they’re truly feral n the girl is very.... like scout bt..... an outspoken n absolutely fearless version...... the only time she’s quiet is when she’s reading a book. anyway. i cn see scout n preston being run RAGGED hving to look after these demons like the boys wld slap mud prints onto the wallpaper..... they’d pull drawers out looking fr their confiscated toys when they misbehaved n cutlery wld crash bc it’d fall on the floor... they’d run away frm the scene of this crime after..... bebe scout wld be like..... UR THE UGLIEST BOYS I’VE EVER KNOWN..... AND I HATE U!!!!! hurling crayons at her brothers fr their mischief... n scout n preston wld have to somehow neutralise all of this chaos. it wld be exhausting. i cn anticipate it mounting frustrations n tensions to the point where scout n preston might even bicker between themselves jst over stupid stuff like scout being like preston u can’t give them chocolate before they’ve had their dinner n preston being like cmon.... let them live a little...... this isn’t a dictatorship... n scout being like do u WANT them to b bouncing off the WALLS???? literally like a married couple.... they’d finally manage to put them to bed in bethan’s room (which ws renovated into a room w three beds fr them to stay in when bethan needs help aka needs scout to babysit) n scout wld usher preston frm the room to let them settle n once she thought he wasn’t watching she’d tuck each in n kiss their heads n be like love u hell spawns. then she’d go dwn n eye preston on the couch frm the doorway like >_> bt still go to get them a beer each..... i cn picture literally by the time she returns frm the kitchen preston being asleep bc the children r relentless.... n even if they’d been bickering a bunch scout wld roll her eyes n kind of smile abt it n swig her beer then put it dwn n grab a blanket n carefully tuck it over him so he didn’t catch a cold in their drafty house w a faulty boiler.......... sickening.

this is related to scout’s nephews n niece again bt in summer they always play in the yard w the hose n i can picture scout n preston having like.... a fight in the morning mayb n her storming dwnstairs n leaving him to get dressed n leave or whatever jst childishly........ n then by the time he got down if it ws summer the kids wld be prancing around outside n shrieking up a storm as scout sat angrily in a fold out chair watching over them........ mayb they’d all b like PRESTON PRESTON STAY N PLAY n he’d be like i’m gna head home............... n they’re like NO PLAY W US PLAY W US n one of the boys even sprays him w the hose. mayb preston wld join in playing w them just picking him up n pretending to fling him around n they’d all be laughing n screaming n scout wld be a tiny bit mellowed by this bt still stubbornly clinging to being mad...... her niece is like SCOUT PLAY WITH US PLAY WITH US n she’s like maybe in a bit. i cn imagine preston spraying her w a little bit of water frm the hose to b childish kind of joining in w the kids being a nuisance n scout being like WTF??????? n then snatching the hose off him n spraying him bk n it just breaking into an all out war where they’re trying to get the hose off each other n both end up soaking wet n she breaks  n laughs n he’s picking her up as the kids all cackle n scream. their fight jst somehow resolved in the space of half an hr when they were jst on the verge of another stupid breakup............. this tumultuous relationship........ no wonder their friends r sick of them.

scout’s dad is...... certainly a character n she hasn’t heard from him in yrs bt he made a big reputation fr himself in town to say the least.... was just in w some rly shady ppl n always fucking everyone over fr his own selfish agenda.... truly jst a liability to b associated w nvm to have as a husband/father so the wilders rly.... went thru it a bit w him. it ws like being buckled into a rollercoaster. nw he’s been gone a few yrs they’ve managed to pick up some of the shrapnel he left behind bt there’s still pieces n tht’s evident in the fact tht every so often guys he used to run w will come knocking trying to shake them dwn fr debts Poppa Wilder still owes them. he’s on the run frm the law nw n they hv no idea where he is bt they still have to deal w these repercussions. anyway. scout is very much like... I Will Deal With Everything In The World On My Own bt with luca in prison, jasper out n about all the time n rarely home sometimes bc he’s a free spirit, her mum working long night shifts n sleeping thru the day n her sister bethan being moved out w kids a lot of the time it’s..... just scout in the house which she wld never admit gets rly lonely after growing up w a big hectic family. i cn imagine one of these guys waiting fr scout after her shift at the diner n just asking her again when he’s gna get his money n her being like fr the last time idk where my waste of space father is!!!!!! n he wouldn’t make a threat or anything bt he knows where they live so tht night i feel like scout wld be kind of nervous n peering out of the curtains a lot jst On Guard in case he shows up to take wht he’s owed by fleecing the place or smthn. mostly paranoia idk if he actually wld bt. scout wld just be kind of scared sleeping there alone n even if she’d wna deal w it on her own i feel like she’d put off contacting preston until pretty late when she’d eventually snap n just be like. can u stay over tonight? n she wouldn’t text it either which is kind of unusual fr her bc she mostly texts bt she’d wna hear his voice to calm her a little i think. again none of this wld b verbalised she wouldn’t even tell him abt this situation bc she tries to be independent as possible n not rely on anyone else fr anything bt......... it would calm her down a lot when he arrived n ws sleeping nxt to her. i feel like his laidback attitude is quite gd for her in tht respect like it has a soothing effect at times..... others perhaps not bt <3 miley cyrus life’s a climb.....

i feel like her ex............. wld not be happy abt scout dating preston. he’s quite a loose canon / volatile character n jst............... scrappy.......... n antagonistic sometimes...... not the worst bt definitely not the best! honestly i feel like if he ever bumped into preston he wld maybe even pick a fight w him except he wouldn’t mention scout he would just act like it wasn’t related bt it Would Be. if preston ws injured in any way via this then i can’t even express hw furious scout wld be she’d actually lose it a bit.... KJGFKHFKGHSFKGHS hell hath no fury like a scout wilder scorned <3 she’d nurse preston better if he had a bust lip or whtever (she’s quite gd at doing these things after yrs of living w reckless brothers who were always getting into fights n also hving a mother who’s in nursing n taught her first aid etc) n she literally wld refuse if he tried to be like i can do this myself she’d b like SIT. DOWN. stomping around the place grabbing her supplies n being so angry until it actually came to like.... dabbing his face where she’d b extremely gentle. stark contrast. she’d keep ranting abt how she was gna confront her ex fr it n even if preston was like just leave it she’d refuse at first then eventually be like ok :) w a tight lipped smile bt. the next day bc she knows where her ex hangs out she’d storm up to him on the street n jst fking RIP him a new one she’d b fully shouting at him unleashing such an ungodly rant w no fks given to who was watching..............if it was in a tv show i’d imagine her rampage all silent as opera music plays over the top n she’s jst yelling in slow motion as a child across the street gasps so loud at the multitude of swear words raining in his direction.... honestly i cn imagine this getting bk to preston w how public it was bt i get the feeling tht even tho he might’ve been like nah leave it he wld find her unbridled wrath funny n know it ws rooted in hw protective she is of those she loves which. as reluctant as she ever likes to admit it definitely includes him at this point.....

[szopenhauer]

What was your last dream about? pamiętam tylko tyle, że M. powinna uważać na jej byłego

Would you like to build/design your own house? yes

Do you have a cherished childhood teddy bear? it’s not really a teddy but yeah

Are you psychic in any way? it seems

Are you a good dancer? meh

Are you a good singer? nooo

Are you a good cook? not the worst

Are you a good artist? maybe

Are you a good listener? try to be 

Are you a good public speaker? but don’t like to 

Are you a good babysitter? might be but hate that

Are you a good dresser? have my own style

Are you a good comedian? I’m funny :P

Are you a good cleaner? not good enough

Are you a good actor? I am

Are you a good writer? just like to write

Do you ever get chills & goosebumps when you listen to music? tell me about it...

What was the last song that had that effect on you? not sure which was last

Do you know what any of your siblings did over the weekend? I don’t care

Was the last book you read a hardback or paperback? paperback

What was the last thing you required the use of a spoon for? I was eating breakfast

The last time you ate something, was it in a bowl or on a plate? neither XD

Can you recall the last time you held hands with someone? I can

What was the last thing that made your heart melt? hmm...

Can you recall the last time you visited a bookshop? not the exact day but yep

Did you purchase anything? I don’t think so

Have you been wearing homemade masks or store-bought ones? both

Do you call yourself stupid a lot? sometimes

Are you listening to music right now? not rn

What is your newest favorite website? aliexpress?

Do you have a headache right now? had before today

What month is your birthday, and what month would u change it to if you could?  February and would like June, July or August that’s why I will spend my name day during summer instead of spring with my sister

Have you ever had to use an epi pen? not yet

Do you know the names of 3 of your neighbors? (list if you can): personal

What was the last grocery store you shopped at?

Do memories from your past come back to haunt you ? frequently

Have you ever seen an angel? or a ghost

Have you ever seen a demon? that time in a mirror?...

What color was the last sweatshirt you wore? grey

What was the last act of creativity you displayed? Vinnie’s tiny bird next to her signature?

Do you ever find yourself just writing/typing out your feelings? my tumblr is full of this shit

Whose house were you at last, besides your own? my current partner’s

Do you like your teeth? not really

Does piano music tend to calm you down? wouldn’t say so

What’s something you need to get done soon? ugh...

Is your best friend awake right now? they are

If I came to your house, could I find any kind of chocolate? ask my mother

Who was the last person to upload a picture with you in it? M.

Do you ever wear sleep masks when you sleep or shower caps when you shower? neither

Don’t tell me lies, so where’s your man? where’s Nat? XD

Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? dad

Has anyone said they love you in the last week? yasss

Have you ever kissed under water? hell no

Have you kissed anyone whose name starts with a M? hahaha

Would you kiss the last person who texted you, on the lips? done and I hopefully will

Camping with a ton of friends or hotel with a few friends? hotel 

Could you go the rest of your life without a cigarette? absolutely

Have you ever wanted something you couldn’t have? like health

How is your boyfriend/girlfriend doing and where are they now? she’s angry, has a flu and she’s working

What was the last topic you read about? DID?

Do you prefer Windows or Mac? Windows

What’s the best amusement park ride you’ve ever been on? I’m not a fan of rides tbh

Would you know how to read a house blueprint? partially?

Do you keep notes on your phone? What sort of things do you write? used to on my old cell

Do you remember much from high school? tought so

Has anyone ever come out to you? yup

What was the last album you listened to in full? Red army choir or Anastasis?

Do you have Disney+? we don’t

Have you ever sent a package or letter to a foreign country? postcards

How many jobs do you have on your resume? 0

Are you comfortable with leaving the house without any makeup on?: I don’t wear makeup

Do you have any expensive hobbies?: if I had money...

What length do you like to keep your nails at?: short

Have you ever felt physical pain in a dream?: but not as much as Nat 

Have you ever had Christmas carolers come to your house and sing for you?: when I was a kid

What’s your favorite Studio Ghibli film?: Porco Rosso?

What did you learn from your last failed relationship?: can we not talk about it...

What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done?: I’m a huge procrastinator

Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it?: collages

What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)?: period, being able to get pregnant and have female kinds of cancer etc.

What movie has the best special effects?: I’m into practical special effects more than cgi but... there’s too many to name

When did you last have a vision test?: ages ago 

[despair-ninja-everything-agency]

Oblivious

I swear I’m not obsessed or anything-

A fic for my Kara ga Gotoku AU. Took me 2 days and 2 restless nights to finish due to college. Title came from Fukan Fukuei’s ED theme. This is supposed to be my take on what happened after Millennium Tower exploded and basically a Nishiki-centric Yakuza re-imagine of Hollow Shrine.

Sorry if there’s oocness with some characters and, as always, if there’s any misspellings, redundancies, and grammatical errors. This is the longest fic I’ve made yet.

Before delving in, credits to @koikoikisses (sorry for tagging :,D) for the concept of Shikiya (Nishiki’s alternate personality). I just take my own spin on it for this AU.

Word Count: 5000+ words

Characters: Akira “Nishiki” Nishikiyama, Shikiya, Kazuma Kiryu, Sakamoto Ryoma (Yakuza Ishin), Miyamoto Musashi (Yakuza Kenzan)

Pairings: NiShikiya/AkiShiki, possible one-sided MusaShiki

Fic under the cut

When he opened his eyes, all he saw was nothing. He was floating aimlessly in this absolute void. He thought he was dead. Felt like he’s dead. Yet, another part of him felt alive. As if there were nothing life-threatening happened to him before.

Where am I?

He thinks to himself.

Why am I here?

Am I alive? Am I dead?

What had happened to him?

What of-

And then everything went white.

-o0o-

He abruptly sits up, panting heavily as if he had just running for a long time. Trying to calm himself, he looks around his vicinity. It’s night time. He’s in a hospital room. Smell of antiseptic enters his nostrils as he breaths in. He bows his head and closes his eyes once he calmed down, trying to recall what happened.

Someone shouted his name. No, not quite his name but close. Then a blinding flash and a loud boom. And then nothing.

He hears the door creaks open. Someone’s coming. Slowly, his eyes flutters open and his gaze directed to where the sound came from. The doctor, a nurse trails behind him, comes to check him up. He’s saying something but all that come out is nothing. Well, at least to him as he doesn’t bother to pay attention. He cranes his head to see the doctor. That’s when he sees it.

Writhing and glowing mass of red lines swarming on the two strangers. Anything beside them are blurred and muted, as if forcing him to look at them. They dance. Whispers on the back of his head beckons him to cut them off.

His eyes wide. His face paling. The sight of it is absolutely sickening. He looks away from them. The lines follow his gaze. Even after he tries to look a different direction, they still within his vision. He screams, clutching his head and screwing his eyes shut. Anything to get those foul sight away. The whispers come back, demanding him to look. The doctor tries to calm him down. He only screams louder, tears streaming down his cheek as he desperately cries for whatever it is to stop. He wails out that name, to that person he wishes is still there somewhere within him.

-o0o-

It took him an hour before he finally calmed down. The doctor and his nurse had left fifteen minutes earlier. The lines are still there, just not as loud and demanding as before. As he lays there, eyes on the ceiling, he wonders what was that. So many questions he’d like to answer yet nothing he could explain. He tiredly shrugs it off, closing his eyes and letting himself drift to sleep.

-o0o-

The same thing happens again the next time the doctor visits. He screws his eyes shut, trembling as he screams and cries.

Make it stop! Please!

He continues his lament.

Where is he? Where’s Nishiki?!

If the doctor is weirded out by that question, he doesn’t show it.

-o0o-

The third time it happened, he had tried to claw his eyes out. The doctor had no choice but to cover them with bandages.

In a way, he’s grateful. Sure, darkness can be lonely. But at least it’s better than seeing those things again.

Like this, he can finally calm down and think. How long had he been out? Is Yumi okay? What about the kid? What’s her name again? Haruka? What about Kiryu?

… What about Nishiki?

He sobs as he remembered. After that day he took over, the poor boy had been pulling himself away into the depths of the mind. He had believed that he would come back, first through his efforts then by Kiryu’s presence. However, it did nothing. That is, until the incident that night. Nishiki had surged out from his isolation and pulled the trigger, destroying the 10 billion yen with the bomb Yumi had set up before. If he hadn’t been dead before, the incident that night surely had killed him for good. Tears stained the bandage wet. He finally realizes one thing.

Akira Nishikiyama is dead.

And there’s nothing he can do but regret and cry, even if it’s not his strongest suit.

-o0o-

Kiryu has visited him today, asking if he’s getting better. He can only nods, not trusting himself to talk after three rounds of screaming and crying.

“Doctor said you asked for Nishiki,” the other man says matter-o-factly.

He steels himself. Ain’t that sound weird, coming from the mouth of supposedly Nishiki himself?

A chuckle breaks the relatively short silence.

“I suppose it’s to be expected”

Huh?

“If you’re not him, then who are you?”

Silence.

What is it with that question? Did Kiryu somehow know him and Nishiki were different? If so, how? How did he manage to know?

Not bother to dwell on those many questions swarming his head, he chooses to answer the other man with a hoarse croak instead.

“Shikiya”

-o0o-

Days pass by as he recovers from his wounds. Kiryu visits him once in a while. Most of the time, he takes Haruka with him. A pang of guilt pierces him when she tells him that Yumi died too that night. He apologizes to her, but she tells him it’s fine. He wonders how much of that is true to her.

At times, Kiryu visits him alone, having dropped Haruka to some trusted subordinates.

(Majima, of all people? Really, Kiryu?

You’ll be surprised if I told you what he’s like, Shikiya…)

During those times, they would chat freely without having to hide anything. They talk about life in general, what the outside world is currently like, and other mundane stuff. Kiryu asks him of himself, not as ‘Nishiki’ but as Shikiya. There are times that he would answer but the other times he just silent.

There’s something off… with Kiryu, though.

Sometimes, when they talk, his voice would sound soft and emotional. Kiryu by no mean a cold man, but he was never being one to be too emotional as well. Even if he cries, he still retains some coolness with him. This one’s different. He doesn’t know what it is, it’s just too uncharacteristically gentle and too sentimental to be Kiryu.

Other times, it’s the opposite. His tone would sound mischievous and mocking. Unlike the other voice, this one is completely out of character for it to be Kiryu. Too playful to be him. It is as if there’s venom every time he talks. He does realize it’s just for the show, that this voice does not always talk like this. Still, it makes his whole body shivers in uncertainty and rage. One time, that voice had the audacity to flirt with him. Shikiya wished his palm connected with the other man’s cheek the moment he swung it at him but part of him was relieved he didn’t hurt Kiryu over such trivial thing.

-o0o-

In a few days, he will be discharged from hospital. Most of his burnt scars has healed. Shikiya breaths a relieved sigh. He might need to go back to his mess of a family but he’s ready to face the consequences.

Even if it’s without Nishiki.

-o0o-

Kiryu had offered himself to stay by his side for the night. As always, Haruka was dropped somewhere else, this time by her own classmate’s house. Slumber party, he’d say. Shikiya couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image.

“Y’know… I was wondering…”

That stupid cheerful voice again…

“Hmm?”

“I don’t remember you being blinded. Sure, you were in point blank position. But, if I’m not mistaken, the doctor said your head was intact. So how come you’re having bandages around your eyes?”

Shikiya’s blood runs cold. He hadn’t accounted that Kiryu would ask around for his condition, hoping he’d assumed the bandage was due to some kind of head trauma. Gotta find a plausible reason for it. He’s not ready to tell him it was to isolate himself from even taking a glimpse of those wretched vision.

“U-Umm… He said I got injured on the back”

Silence. He could almost practically feel Kiryu’s gaze on him. He gulps.

“Really?”

He nods.

Another silence.

Shikiya hopes the other man just dropped the subject already.

As the silence stretches far and wide, he sighs as he hears scraping sound of chair against tiles. Kiryu must’ve left for something. The window, maybe. Shikiya lets himself relaxes, leaning his back against the pillow propping behind him.

Something struggles to yank the bandages.

Panic shot through his entire system.

He pins his palms hard against the bandages, grounding it to his face. He cries out a protest.

“W-What are you doing?! Stop it!!”

Kiryu doesn’t listen, judging from the ever-increasing vigor in forcefully ripping the coverings away. Shikiya desperately clings to it, begging for him to not take it away from him.

As the last shred of the cloth falls onto his lap, Shikiya feels his hands being gripped and pried away from his face. He glares at the other man, barring his teeth threateningly. He would’ve maintained that look had his vision’s not being filled with that blurred, muted scene as before. Right in front of him, the same glaring red lines swims about, outlining a shape of a face.

Something different this time. Something that drains any color from Shikiya’s face.

A pair of dark, eerie grayish green eyes bore into his soul.

He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to look into the nightmare before him.

“Oi! Look at me!”

He feels his body being shaken.

He still refuses to look.

Suddenly, the grip around his hands disappear. He chances himself a look. The lines outlining the other man get yanked as if some force had pushed them away from him. Both men pant raggedly. Silence falls once more, only being accompanied by their heaving breaths. The two watch each other as if having a staring contest.

The lines are still there but what were once eerie green eyes has been replaced by soft blue hue.

“Shikiya…”

The soft-spoken one…

The outline slowly approaches him, cautious not to agitate him too much. He scoots back but his ass already hits the bed’s headboard. Once the outline stands beside him, he looks up at it. His breaths already calm down a bit but it’s still clear from his expression that he’s still panicking inside.

A hand reaches out to his. He considers pulling away.

“Shiki… It’s okay…”

That voice… So gentle…

He flinches when they make contact.

“Close your eyes… Take a deep breath…”

He does so. One, two, three…

That hand squeezes gently against his.

So warm…

He slowly opens his eyes and looks to the side. Everything is back to normal, crisp and full of colors. The lines are gone. There, Kiryu gives him a concerned look. Soft blue hue glows from his eyes.

Was it always blue like that?

“Kiryu…?”

A blink.

Ethereal blue replaced with familiar brown.

“Shikiya…”

Sighing, he lets himself slumping against the headboard, his hand squeezes back at Kiryu’s.

“I’m sorry…”

No, please don’t apologize you idiot! It’s not your fault, it’s mine! I’m the one getting worked up over nothing!

But… was it really nothing…?

He feels like he wants to cry.

-o0o-

Kiryu had explained everything.

The visions… Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Allowing its user to see the lines of death, the concept of longevity given form. If you cut the line, its owner will cease to live.

Shikiya wouldn’t believe him the first time, thinking he was fucking with him.

Kiryu himself doesn’t seem to be sure about it as well.

He had another guy do the explaining again later.

It’s still him, red shirt and grey suit pants. The blazer had been hanging on the chair’s backrest. But his eyes are different. It glows soft blue from within, overshadowing its natural brown color. His tone, tender than Kiryu’s usual tone.

It’s him. The soft-spoken one.

His name is Sakamoto Ryoma.

Shikiya feels like he’s gonna faint. If Nishiki didn’t pay attention to history classes back at school, Shikiya would’ve think Kiryu’s fucking with him again. Too bad that wasn’t the case (and Kiryu’s shit at acting anyway).

The historical figure, who is currently possessing Kiryu (his descendant, for fuck sake! Shikiya wouldn’t have knew. Nishiki wouldn’t have known), reiterates what his host had explained before only in much more detail and confidence.

Silence ensues as Shikiya tries to process the information.

“Wow…” he whispered.

“Forgive me, Shikiya-kun. I know it’s too much for you to-“

“No, no! It’s okay, Sakamoto-san! It’s just… I didn’t expect to have such power”

“Please, Ryoma’s fine”

He nods.

Neither speaks after that.

Another awkward silence.

Shikiya’s the one breaking the silence this time.

“So, umm… Ryoma-san?”

“Hmm?”

“If you… Were you…”

Shikiya sighs.

“Yes?”

“Is there… someone else? Well, beside you and Kiryu, I mean…”

Ryoma blinks.

“What do you mean?”

Shikiya’s face heats up.

“I-I mean! There’s this… one. Back when I see nothing but darkness. He’s like, y’know? He has Kiryu’s voice but talk like a dick to me. Sounds like an asshole! Fucker keeps teasing me every time! Do you know that he once tried to flirt with me? N-Not like I like it or anything! I already have a crush!”

The not-quite Kiryu blinks before bursting into a laugh.

“D-Don’t laugh!” Shikiya bashfully reprimands.

“S-Sorry! It’s just- I know too well who are you talking about,” Ryoma answers once he calms down, wiping away the tear from the corner of his eye.

“Really? Who is it, then?”

The not-quite Kiryu clears his throat before looking at Shikiya with a serious expression, as if he wasn’t just laughing his ass off from the other’s minor inconvenience a second ago.

“Yes. But… Do you really want to see him? Last time you two together, it wasn’t a pleasant experience”

Shikiya frowns at that, recalling what happened last night. The forceful hands, how close his face was, how he sent shiver down his spine when their eyes meet even just for a moment and how it was distorted by his vision. Sighing, he closes his eyes and thinks. Ryoma patiently waits for him, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable. A minute passed before Shikiya opens his eyes and looks back at Ryoma, nodding a confirmation.

It’s Ryoma’s turn to sigh and close his eyes. Shikiya watches expectantly and wonders. Who is the other man? What makes him so insufferable and yet so endearing?

Before he got his answers, the corner of Kiryu’s lip curls into a manic smile. When he opens his eyes, it glows eerie green. The same one Shikiya saw in his nightmarish vision. Shikiya’s body ceases its movement yet also shivering in anticipation. When he talks, it’s in the same annoying tone as Shikiya remembered.

“It’s been a while, Shikiya!”

The not-quite Kiryu brings up his thumb and forefinger to hold Shikiya’s chin with, causing the latter to flinch. He pushes his chin up, forcing the other to look at him.

“Didn’t know you miss me that much~!”

Fear is all Shikiya know at that moment, recalling the nightmare from earlier night. Noticing this, the not-quite Kiryu frowns and let go of his grip, sighing.

“Hey… Sorry about yesterday… I didn’t mean to scare you… I thought- If you face fear head on, you’d-“

A sigh.

“Look… I’m sorry… I promise something like that wouldn’t happen again…”

He doesn’t trust his words.

Rage-filled punch crashes against the side of Kiryu’s cheek, throwing him off his seat. Shikiya breaths heavily before realizing what he had done, looking at his fisted hand in horror.

“S-Sorry! I-I didn’t know what’s gotten into-“

Soft shuffling noises echo through the room as his victim gets up. Footsteps clacking against the floor, approaching him. And then…

SMACK!!

Red handprint forms on his pale cheek. His lips slightly ajar, stunned at the sudden slap.

“Fight me”

“Eh?”

He looks up at the other man. Gone was that playfulness. His expression devoid of emotion. It is as if he is a different person, yet the cold grayish green eyes staring back says otherwise.

“If you hate me that much, then it’s only fair for you to fight me”

An invitation. Every fiber of his being is screaming to turn it down. To brush it off and cowers in fear, even if it’s not like him to do such thing. Warning him that he wouldn’t stand a chance against the man before him.

Yet, he takes the bait. Turning his fear and sadness into anger, he springs out from his bed, hitting the man with such ferocity it leaves a bruise swelling. His vision blurs, red lines wrapping around his opponent.

Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Allowing its user to see the lines of death

Kiryu’s words echo on the back of his mind. Momentarily, panic courses through his body. However, he soon turns it into a manic desire. A desire to kill this man before him who had so rudely mock and taunt him.

If you cut the line, its owner will cease to live.

Let’s see if it’s true or not…

Shikiya frantically grabs anything sharp from the table beside him. Anything to cut those lines. His palm pressing against a cold metal surface.

Good, he thinks. This’ll do…

Murderous glint reflects on his eyes as he swings the object at the not-quite Kiryu. The other man dodges it, cruel smile spreads through his lips. His eyes show the same murderous glint as his are, a sight so out of place on Kiryu’s face he just wants to punch it out of disgust. It doesn’t matter, though, as the two set into a wild and fast-paced brawl. Shikiya moves swiftly, aiming for a slash, but his movements are frantic and erratic, going for nothing but the kill. The not-quite Kiryu, meanwhile, evades in such grace and finesse, occasionally throwing a defensive punch at his opponent. They both move as if it’s a choreographed dance except for the frenzied speed of each fighters. Crashes and thuds fill the room they’re in, ransacking it mercilessly with their exchanged blows.

Their fight concluded soon after, with Shikiya straddling Kiryu’s hips and looking down at him. His right hand clutching on the metal object tightly. Both fighters pant heavily, chests heaving from the adrenaline. Shikiya lifts his hands, clasping his fingers around the metal object. Rage-filled expression directed to his opponent, expression unreadable as he watches him. With a cry, he swings the object down…

…it stabs the tiled floor beside Kiryu’s head.

Bitter laugh escapes Shikiya’s mouth. His body trembles as he let out a soft sob.

“I… I can’t…”

He lets go of the object. Clatter fills the otherwise silent room before it too ceases its sound.

“Heh… It’s weird… I’ve been wanting to kill you for what you did… Been wanting to silence you for talking shit to me… And yet, I… I can’t…”

Another sob.

“Why can’t I kill you…? Why… Why don’t I wanna kill you?!”

The not-quite Kiryu’s face soften. The manic smirk and cold scowl have been replaced with as small sad smile. He brings up his hand to brush away Shikiya’s stray hair and cups his cheek. Shikiya flinches but lets him to do so, placing his hand on top of Kiryu’s. He hadn’t realized his flowing hair until now. Fuck! He must’ve look like Nishiki right now. The mental image is enough to make tears welling up his eyes, still unable to cope with the other’s passing. He feels sick for wearing the look of his fallen friend. Kiryu’s thumb swipes away the tear.

“You did good, kid…”

That’s all the other man offers him. He glances to his side, looking at the object that could be his downfall. Shikiya follows his gaze. His eyes go wide when he sees it, realization dawns to him.

A bent spoon lays non-threateningly against the tiled floor.

Shikiya had been trying to kill Kiryu with a goddamn spoon.

The idiocy doesn’t escape him. He laughs, softly at first before turning into a maniacal laugh and ends with a choked one. All the while Kiryu’s hand still attached to his cheek. Shikiya leans to the touch. He closes his eyes, sighing as waves after waves of emotion crashes against him.

“Hey…” He calls the other out in a whisper. “Can I… borrow your shoulder… for a bit?”

The not-quite Kiryu looks up at him and nods, groaning as he feels the shift in weight. Shikiya has laid himself on top of him, face buried against his shoulder. He’s too tired to cry, too tired to argue and talk. He inhales a generous amount of air. Smell of sweat and cologne enters his nostrils, lulling him to unconsciousness. He feels a hand combing through his soft, messy hair. Through Nishiki’s hair. Another pang of guilt stabs him, though he’s too exhausted to dwell on it.

“Musashi…”

Shikiya hums questioningly, muffled only by the fabric of Kiryu’s shirt. He doesn’t bother to look at the other in this state.

“Name’s Miyamoto Musashi”

He hums again, this time in content. He finally allows himself drifting to sleep, aware of Kiryu’s strong arms hugging him securely.

-o0o-

The hospital bill suddenly spikes up. Not from the increase of tax but from the property damage he and Kiryu had caused in his room earlier this morning. Shikiya had insisted he would be the one covering for the bill with the Nishikiyama family’s treasury but Kiryu didn’t listen, apologizing and promising the doctor to take responsibility for the damage they’d done. Just before he left, Kiryu – no, Musashi – had offered to teach him how to control the Mystic Eyes but he refused, not wanting to burden the other man with his problem.

(Wait, THE Miyamoto Musashi?! Kiryu, what the fuck is your family, man?! Are you secretly related to all of Japan’s most influential people?!

Shiki, believe me when I said I’m just as surprised as you… I never knew that until these two came into my life. Did Ryoma-no-niisan tell you he’s part of Shinsengumi as well?

But… Wasn’t Sakamoto Ryoma their enemy? How was he part of Shinsengumi?

Yeah… He’s also Saito Hajime…

He WHAT?!)

And after that, he’s left alone. The room had been cleaned from hazardous debris, though the broken and bent furniture are yet to be fixed. Shikiya sighed and laid back to his bed. So much had happened in such a short time. He shut his eyes, imagining Nishiki’s voice and presence. He wished the other half was still there with him but with everything that had happened? He doubted he’s still alive. Yet he kept on hoping, praying that he survived.

Frustrated, Shikiya forced himself to sleep, convincing himself to just forget it already.

-o0o-

When he opened his eyes, all he saw was nothing. He was floating aimlessly in this absolute void. He thought he was dead. Felt like he’s dead. Yet, another part of him felt alive. As if there were nothing life-threatening happened to him before.

           Where am I?

He thinks to himself.

Why am I here?

Am I alive? Am I dead?

What had happened to him?

What of-

His train of thoughts were interrupted by ghoulish wails in the distance. He looked around, finding nothing but complete darkness. Then he saw it. Writhing masses of restless spirits came into view. The macabre sight almost sending him running on his heels in fear. But then he heard something else, not quite an echoing wail of a spirit. Rather, a whimper of a lost soul trapped among the land of the dead.

Please!

Get away from me!

Leave me alone!

Swallowing, he cautiously approached the masses of death. Then he saw it. Black, slicked back hair. White suit and pants. A figure standing hunched. His back was facing him, hands clutching tightly at the hair it almost looked like it got ripped from its roots.

He recognized that look, recognized that voice.

As he drew closer, flashes of emotions struck him.

Regret. Sadness. Anger. Fear. Guilt. Pain. Anguish.

Loss.

Suddenly, he understood. As the ghouls closing in toward the lost soul, he took action.

Kicking. Punching. Biting. Stomping. Smashing.

He put everything into his being to protect this lost soul, distant yet familiar.

Then he saw it.

Red lines coiling around the ghouls.

He didn’t understand at first but he figured he’d find out as he went.

He noticed at last.

Spirits ceasing to exist once the lines were cut.

And so he did. Cutting every last visible line on the wretched spirits until there’s no more of them.

He looked back at the lost soul. Glaring red lines plastered on its being.

He shook his head.

No, I wouldn’t kill him.

After what I did to protect him.

I wouldn’t waste my effort just to end him.

The lines disappeared.

He approached the lost soul.

He hugged the poor soul.

He whispered the soul’s name.

Shikiya…

The one he had called tensed and slowly turns around, tears staining his pale cheeks as their gaze met.

Ni… Nishiki…

He smiled, wiping the other’s tears with his finger.

Heh… Who’s the crybaby now?

Shut up… You left me…

I know…

I thought you were gone…

I’m sorry…

I love you…

He kept on. Whispering apologies and sweet nothings. Inching his face closer and closer. Until their lips locked into a gentle kiss. Their eyes fluttered shut. Savoring the moment of tenderness. Never wanting to let go.

-o0o-

Shikiya wakes up gasping for air, eyes pried open as he darts his gaze everywhere in the room. Slowly, he sits up, comprehending on his dream in sleep.

There was darkness. Then the eldritch beings. Then silence. Then the familiar warmth. Then…

Part of him doesn’t believe it was real, brushing it off as a dream. He can’t sense him from within, so surely it can’t be real... Right?

But... Another part of him wants to believe it, clinging onto that sliver of hope. If so, then there’s one thing for sure…

Nishiki is in there somewhere.

Akira Nishikiyama is alive.

He calms down, fingertips ghosting over his lips. A tingling sensation and warmth send shiver down his spine as he remembers the kiss. He breaths, shutting his eyes as he replayed that scene, that feeling over and over in his mind.

-o0o-

The night before he’s officially discharged, he chances himself a look on a mirror. His face looks tired. There’re faint eyebags under his eyes. His hair’s in shambles yet neatly parted in the middle. Stray bangs framing his gaunt face.

He looks like shit.

He looks like Nishiki.

Sighing, he combs his hair backwards in hope to achieve his preferred slick back style. It doesn’t work, as strands of hair fall back to the parted style the moment his hand leaves the scalp. He exhales in frustration, slightly banging the mirror as he leans against it.

Soft thud disturbs the otherwise peaceful night. It comes from outside. Shikiya cautiously removed himself from the mirror and approaches the door. Before his hand touching the cold surface of the doorknob, someone barges in so suddenly.

A man… No, not a man. Foul stench fills the hospital room. Rotten flesh splats on the otherwise pristine floor below. His eyes unfocused, rotating unnaturally in different direction. He pauses for a moment, looking at Shikiya with that ghoulish eyes, before charging at him, knocking him against a wall. Shikiya feels a pair of decaying hands pressing against his neck, his windpipe, choking him. He struggles to pry it off, mind starting to become unfocused as air leaves his lungs steadily. He contemplates giving up and ceasing his struggle. What’s the point of living after everything that happened?

Then he remembers. He remembers the three distinct yet similar voices. He remembers the warmth of skin against skin. He remembers the gentler times. He remembers the smell of something other than hospital, something comforting.

He remembers that dream.

No… I can’t die here now.

Someone murmurs something in the back of his mind.

Live.

With renewed strength, Shikiya pushes the monster away. They hit the window, sending them plummeting to the ground below. Shikiya considers himself lucky as he gets up, although his burnt wounds start to feel sore. The monster stirs from its resting place before he rises from the ground, standing and turning to look at his prey in stumble. Shikiya panics, scenes from his nightmare threatens to fill in his vision. His body shakes as he takes a step back.

Use your Eyes.

Subconsciously, he does. His surroundings turn blurred and muted. Red angry lines wrap around the incoming monster.

Breath. Focus. Focus on killing your enemy.

He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. One, two, three…

He hears grasses scrunched under clumsy feet.

You can do this.

That voice, strangely comforting.

He finally calms down, opening his eyes to look at the monster sharply. He bends down and picks up a shard of glass before dashing at him. With one swift stroke, he slashed the monster, shriek in agony echoes through the night. In his vision, he had cut several lines mostly on the torso. Blood sprays from the monster, covering his assailant with the pungent liquid. Shikiya uses the blood to style his hair to the slick back style he’d been trying to get. His lips twitch into a sadistic smile. It’s been a long time since he feels the thrill of killings.

Abruptly, pain pulses in his head. The shard falls from his grip as he drops into his knees, clutching his head harshly. There’s something in there. Something that forces his soul to leave his body. He withholds, not wanting to be defeated so easily.

I’ll take care of it.

That’s when he feels himself being pulled into the depths of mind. He doesn’t see it but he can feel it. Warmth coursing through his being as familiar hands guiding him. His body moves in automaton, picking up the fallen shard and points its sharp end to his chest.

Trust me with this.

So he did, letting the shard stabs through his chest.

Strange… That doesn’t hurt at all.

Screams and wails overflowing his ears, yet it’s not his voice nor the voice that had been guiding him. The shard slides out with ease once the noises disappears into the night. His body feels light, as if the burden had been lifted from his shoulder. For a moment, he experiences peace.

Shikiya…

That voice whispered his name, gentle and serene. He whispers back, equally as soft.

Nishiki…

Tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He had missed that name for a long time. Ever since the day the older soul retreated into nothingness, returning briefly only to almost disappearing completely from within.

Strong yet tender arms ghosting around his body, hugging him from behind. Shikiya could sense Nishiki’s presence, even if he can’t see him. He rests a hand above Nishiki’s right above his heart. The heart beats steadily. He gazes upwards. Clear night sky speckled with twinkling stars greets his vision.

That’s the last thing he sees before he blacks out.

-o0o-

“How is he?”

“Hmm?”

Kiryu pays him a visit in the afternoon. He has heard the news that the patient Akira Nishikiyama had jumped off from his room and was found unconscious and caked in blood the next day on a clearing behind the hospital, along with an unidentified and mangled corpse. The doctor had decided to extend his stay for a day until he truly recovers. Now, they sit in the messy room, product of the duel a few days back and of that night’s scuffling.

“How’s the other guy?”

“Oh. He’s fine. Just exhausted. Poor guy must’ve gone through a lot after I disappeared”

Kiryu nods in understanding.

The man before him. The Koi. Kazama’s boy. Kiryu’s sworn brother. He’s looking out to the horizon, expression unreadable.

“Kiryu?”

“Yes?”

A pause.

“Thank you…For taking care of Shikiya while I’m gone”

Nishiki turns his head toward him, his lips formed into a grateful smile.

Kiryu couldn’t help but smiles back.

“Anything for my brother”

He’s sure his ancestors would agree with him.

FIN

[ashisbaeee]

Are You Happy?

A/N:  while planning out chapter 10 for Her, this idea came to mind. I didn’t want to wait til the end of the series to post it, so here you go! haha. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing this for you all. sorry for any errors.  as always, your feedback is greatly appreciated. enjoy💗

2.3k words(as you can see I got carried away😬)

italics are Y/N’s thoughts 

___________________________

     You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that now resided in the pit of your stomach. Something was up and you couldn’t lay a finger on what it was exactly. Maybe it was the amount of stress that you’ve been dealing with for quite some time due to the fact of being short-staffed for a couple weeks now; everyone scrambling about in your unit, their bodies running on a few hours of sleep and consuming rather dangerous amounts of caffeine. Stress and work loads were through the roof, while morale ran on the opposite side of the spectrum. Every single one of your fellow coworkers trying their absolute bests to push through and  do their assignments for the day. Maybe that was the probable cause of your uneasiness. Who knows, because you sure as hell weren’t. Due to your long (and I mean long) long hours spent at work, you kind of neglected everything else. You were so focused on your job that you put everything-your life, your family, your friends, and last but not least your boyfriend, Tom on the back burner. They have all in some way became an afterthought, as terrible as that sounds. 

       But it could also be your current relationship with Tom that has you feeling this way. If you were being honest, you can’t remember the last time you guys did something together. It had been a few weeks or so since you guys had last gone out on a date. Tonight, you were going to change all that; after coming home from work you decided that you were going to spend some much needed quality time with him. Even if it ends up just being you both cuddled on the couch as a movie played-just enjoying being in each other’s company and feeling the heat of his body against yours as he lazily ran his fingers through your hair like you liked as you returned the favor and drew imaginary shapes and lines on his arm and chest, or  if you did something totally different and you guys cooked dinner together. Literally anything, you didn’t care what the activity was, as long as you were together spending time, that’s all you wanted. 

    During your break, you sent him a text asking if he wanted to eat something specific for dinner or if he was open to do something when you got home from work. About an hour or so after hitting ‘send’ you felt your phone buzz. Sure enough, it was your man. He replied saying he was open to do anything not before saying that he’d be a little late in coming home, about 45 minutes after you’ve arrived home since he and the boys had gone out to the golf course. 

   7pm couldn’t come any sooner. After giving report to the night shift nurses, you hurriedly ran to the locker room to grab your belongings and headed out the door. As soon as you got to your car, you took your phone out to text him. 

Y/N: Hey babe. I am on my way home. Would you like me to pick something up for dinner? Or do ya wanna cook something up together? 

Tom🥰♥️: hey, I don’t care. Anything sounds good to me. The guys and I are on our way home. Mind if they join us? 

Anything. That doesn’t make things easy! I was kinda hoping you’d give me options so it would make things a bit easier. What would they like? Pizza? Chinese? Italian? I was kinda hoping it just be us two, but I guess they can come over for a while. I mean it has been a while since I had last seen them anyways. So I guess it’ll be nice to catch up for a bit. Maybe tomorrow we’ll spend time together, just the two of us.  I wonder if I should ask if they’d like me to pick up some beer. 

Y/N:  no, of course I don’t mind. It’d be nice to catch up with them. does pizza sound ok? do you want me to get beer? 

Tom🥰♥️: yeah that’s fine.. get pepperoni, Hawaiian and plain. we already got the beer. 

Is it me or does he seem angry? Annoyed maybe? There’s definitely some kind of tone to these texts. Our conversation all day has been dry. This isn’t really like him. This is not his usual texts. I guess I’ll have to see when I get home. Let me be wrong, please. 

Y/N: ok. Got it. I’ll see you soon. I love you. 

Tom🥰♥️: k, see u

Well damn, okay. He hit me with the ‘K’ response. There is definitely something wrong. He didn’t even say ‘I love you back’. He ALWAYS says it. Did I forget something? An important day? His birthday? Someone in his family’s birthday? Our anniversary? Or did I say something?  Did I do or did not do something, did I say something for him to act this way towards me? Ugh, I guess I’ll find out sure enough once I get home. 

During your drive home you replayed everything. You frantically looked through your calendar to see if in fact you had unknowingly missed an important event, but there was no indication of anything. From what you could remember, there was nothing that you said or an event that you had missed. nothing , absolutely nothing came to mind as your mind tried to conjure up a plausible reason for his new found coldness. 

As you pulled into your driveway, you saw Haz’s car, signaling they were all home. As aforementioned earlier, Tom said they’d arrive some time after you but seeing as you stopped to pick up the pizzas, they managed to get home before you. Miraculously, with everything you were holding, you managed to open the front door. As soon as the guys were aware of your struggle, Sam jumped up from his seat on the couch to lend a hand. Once he set the boxes of pizzas on the coffee table, be brought you in to give you a hug, not before asking how you were doing and stating how he and the rest of the family had missed you dearly. One by one the rest of the squad, Haz, Harry, and Tuwaine and greeted you and briefly hugged you. Tom was the last one. He gave you a short smile(a pretty fake one) before he hugged you and kissed your forehead. Your forehead for crying out loud. It wasn’t like you guys never showed any PDA in front of the guys but this, this was way out of character for him. There was clearly something bothering him, and you were going to make it your mission to find out what it is. It would have to be delayed a bit since you had no intentions of causing a scene with all the guys here. 

You quickly went into the kitchen to grab plates and napkins as well as a bottle of water for you. Once you arrived back into the living room, you passed each one a plate as you all began to eat. During dinner, you managed to catch up with everyone. All the lads telling you what was new with them and updating the group with whatever was new on your end, and venting about work. They had then proceeded to ask you when you’d be able to take time off of work so that collectively y’all would do something. They lads sharing that they have all missed you dearly. You had missed them too. You told them that you’d talk with your manager the next time you were scheduled to work to see when that would be; hoping it was sooner rather than later. The stress was really taking its toll on you. 

Hours passed and many many laughs later, the lads decided it was time to call it a night. You took a look at you phone-2:30am. Everyone not really wanting the night to end. This was long overdue. During your laughs and when one told a funny story or was just talking about something, your eyes always found your way to Tom. Usually, he’d lock eyes with you. But not this time. This time around, he made eye contact with everyone BUT you. Whenever you spoke or if someone had asked you a question, his eyes went straight to the floor. Whatever was there was way more interesting than you. You took in his appearance; he seemed rather tense, as if he was on guard or something. And you kept replaying your whole interaction when you came home. How when you looked into his eyes, his eyes looked different. It appeared to be more dull, there was no sparkle or glimmer in his eyes. And as you sat where you were and indeed looked over at his direction and watch his facial expressions, it validated that there seemed to be no sparkle-no joy to be found. Something was off with him.

Wow, it’s half past 2? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. This was nice. It was amazing to unwind and just chill with friends. Oh how I’ve missed this. 

You bid the guys good night as you went on to clear the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles that littered the living area. Once all was said and done, you went upstairs to your shared bedroom. 

As you laid in bed, you took this time to catch up with your man. 

You sat up, your head against the headboard as you initiated the conversation. 

“Hey babe, how was your day? I’ve missed you”

“It was fine. Yeah missed you too”

“Tom, can you please look at me?”

“I’m trying to sleep, Y/N”

“Just for a second, please?” you shamelessly begged. 

With a deep sigh, he finally complied to your wish. 

“Yes?”

Sure enough, it was the same lifeless stare. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” 

“You say you’re fine, but more importantly are we fine? Because you seem a bit distant. Did I do or not do something? I know I have been so focused with work and all but did I forget something? An important date? I looked at my calendar and I didn’t see any events scheduled. Or did I say something? Can you please talk to me and let me know what I did wrong? Because I know something’s on your mind and I would like to try and help you. Y’know we can talk about anything, right?”

Silence. Absolute silence. And it was eating you alive, absolutely killing you. This dead air between your bodies was unbearable. 

“Tom?”

“Just thinking is all”

“Thinking about?”

“About us. Where we stand” 

S I L E N C E 

He sighs again before continuing on. 

“Just how things changed between us”

“What changed between us? Besides us not really spending as much time together?”

“I-I uh, I uhm, I don’t know”

“A-are you not happy? Are you not happy in this relationship? Do I not make you happy anymore? Tom, please. I’m begging you, please talk to me. Can you please let me know how things have changed between us? Is there someone else?” 

“No, there’s no one else. I, I don’t know. I mean yeah, I was before. I was happy, uh, I think I’m happy. I don’t know. I guess you being busy and us not being able to spend time got me thinking is all”

He’s not happy? What? He was happy before but doesn’t know if he is now? he doesn’t know? He’s been thinking? Of what? How can he say this all cool and nonchalantly? 

“Y-you-you’re not happy?” your choked response pierced the air. As you shamelessly started to break down and dissolve into tears. Not caring how you would look, not even bothering to wipe the ceaseless tears that fell from your cheeks, to your sweater and ultimately unto the blanket.  

He sat across from you in bed as he watched your face contort in this newfound pain. He hated seeing you cry. His actions may not have shown it, but this was painful for him too.This was pain on a whole different level. This pain affected you mentally, physically and emotionally. He sat in silence. I mean, what does one say to that? How does one respond?

As you cried, you felt his eyes on you. You dared not look in his eyes. As you bawled your eyes out, a part of you hoped that he would say something, anything. Anything to break this unbearable situation. But nothing. 

His lack of response was in fact a response. You’ve got your answer. Message received, Tom. 

With that, you got up and walked to your closet. You pulled out a duffel bag as you haphazardly threw your clothes in it. 

He watched you intently as you stuffed your bag. Still not saying a word. 

Once you were done, you turned your body to talk to him, eyes glued to your beige colored carpet. 

“I know work has been crazy but never would I have thought that it would lead to this.  If you aren’t happy being with me, who am I to stop you from finding your ultimate happiness? I’m not cruel and evil; I would never do that to you. That would be so selfish of me to do so. You have every right to be happy. You truly deserve to be happy and everything more. I am sorry for wasting your time and I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to do so. I want you to be happy, even if that means us not being together. What a ride this has been. So go out there, go out into the world and find that person that truly makes you happy. Someone that brings you nothing but joy. Take care of yourself, Tom” you murmured as you  slung the duffel bag straps on your shoulders and proceeded your way down the stairs and out the door. Out of his life forever.

___________________________

tagging some mutuals: @hollandroos @parkeret @gab-spidey @roses-hxlland @unholyholland @sleepybesson @moonlightom @peterpcrker @hollandinq @ihrielloyer @spideybitey18 @jackiehollanderr

[wanderleave]

My contribution for @jancyweek2019, which is, fair warning: absolute nonsense. Entirely inspired by this post made by @metropoliskid, which is based on this tweet.

Once again, I know my blog text is tiny, so go find this guy on AO3 if you wish.

Nancy Wheeler was twelve years old when she started dating Jonathan Byers.

She thinks.

She isn’t sure. (Not about Jonathan Byers, she’s sure about him; she’d always found him endlessly intriguing, even in elementary school, when he sat at the picnic tables with Barb while Nancy played horses at recess, surrounded by girls who had names like hers—Stacy, Ally. Long e sounds. Names that rhymed.)

What she isn’t sure about is if they ever really started dating.

And if they did, they certainly never stopped.

If it did happen, it is, technically, the longest relationship she’s ever been in. If she’s counting.

She doesn’t know what that says about her.

She was twelve years old, sitting on a bench inside Hawkins Middle, reading A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for English, waiting for her mother to pick her up and bring her to ballet. (Nancy never considered it, in her youth, how much of her mother’s life revolved around ferrying her and her siblings across Hawkins, from one activity to another. She must have been so grateful when Mike declared his independence from the automobile and insisted on riding his bike everywhere.)

She’d glanced up to see the Wheeler family station wagon coasting to a stop just outside the front doors, just as Jonathan Byers coasted to a stop in front of her.

“Nancy,” he’d said, breathless.

And that’s when it got complicated.

In the rush of juggling her school bag, her dance bag, and the blare of her mother’s horn, she didn’t quite catch the words that followed her name.

Her eyes had flicked to the car outside, then back to him. She’d thought about asking him to repeat himself, but his face had been open, expectant, nervous. Hopeful.

She couldn’t deny that face.

“Oh, um. Yes,” she’d said, in response to what she’d been pretty sure was a question.

He’d grinned at her. Held up his hand.

She’d high fived him, and rushed out to her waiting mother.

It was only as the car door slammed shut that she processed the question he’d asked her.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

It’s only later—years later—that Nancy realizes that she’d have said yes even if she had heard him clearly.

As it was, she only got to enjoy their relationship—if it was a relationship (if seventh grade high fives could even be called a relationship)—for one day. Less than a day, even.

She’d glanced over at him shyly all through class, counting the minutes until lunch, when she would confirm if she’d heard him right. He’d returned her glances with equally shy smiles, putting her anxious mind slightly at ease.

And then the loudspeaker buzzed, Jonathan Byers was called to the office—and he was gone.

His whole family was.

Mike had pouted for weeks, his best friend vanished in an instant. “It’s not fair,” he’d moaned at dinner. “Why do they have to move just because of his stupid dad.”

The moaning continued over the phone, short long-distance calls that Nancy only ever worked up the nerve to intrude on once, picking up the receiver to mutter a quick “Tell-Jonathan-I-said-hi,” before hanging up with a clatter.

But the frequency of the phone calls trickled away as the school year went on, and by the time summer arrived, Mike had stopped insisting on being allowed to visit Will, and Nancy lost her only chance to confirm her relationship status.

She knows she could have called him herself. But that was, for her twelve year old self, too much to bear.

And plus, he’d never called her.

She misheard him, she told herself.

(She didn’t.)

He’d asked her another question, not girlfriend-related at all.

(He hadn’t.)

She’d told all her rhyming friends, giggles down the phone line later that night, and they’d waited alongside her with heavy anticipation for one of them to finally have a boyfriend, only to have their hopes dashed when it ended up being over before it really began. In the end she just felt foolish, for making such a thing over a boy.

“You know, you two never actually broke up,” Barb pointed out one day, once Nancy was able to think about it without wanting to bury her face in her hands, a matter of years later. As time goes on, it became almost a joke to her friends, a Schrödinger’s relationship that Nancy is both in and not in at the same time.

“Oh you can’t,” they said to James C, who asked her to prom as Nancy sat, blushing furiously, at her lunch table freshman year. “She’s dating Jonathan Byers.” (He’d been a senior, convinced she couldn’t turn him down, staggering away at Nancy’s faux-regretful confirmation of her relationship status.)

“So what’s this about you and some long distance guy?” Steve had asked, the first night she’d allowed herself to be inveigled into his back seat.

“Oh,” Nancy had said, already pulling her shirt over her head. “That’s . . . nothing. Middle school stuff.”

“Good,” Steve said, and Nancy forgot all about Jonathan Byers for the moment.

But she never truly forgets, not really.

Nancy moves to the city in one fell swoop.

She loads the U-Haul herself, only takes three wrong turns, and crams her entire life into the tiny studio that somehow costs more than the two-bedroom apartment she’d left Steve standing in, bereft.

She locates the nearest bodega, maps out her work commute on the subway, and prepares to begin her life anew.

It doesn’t quite work out like she plans.

She does manage to navigate the subway with relative ease, and she stops by the bodega almost every day, grabbing yet another item she’s realized she doesn’t own and cannot seem to live without.

The life anew part, however, eludes her.

She has a life, of course—drinks with college friends, lunches out with work colleagues. She tries new things, meets new people, goes on an endless parade of first dates. She even makes it to second and third dates for a few. But in the end, her days start to end up feeling enough like the inevitability she’d tried to escape that she wonders if it might make sense to head back to Indiana, see if Steve is still standing right where she left him.

It’s then that her thoughts turn to Jonathan.

Not in any kind of concrete sort of way—when she thinks of him it always feels hazy, somehow—but more idealistic; she imagines him living the life she wishes she could lead. He’d escaped Hawkins, in a way she somehow cannot, like the town is clinging to her, holding onto her fast even across state lines.

As a coping mechanism, it’s pretty fucked up, as Steve used to say, having the ghosts of her past haunt her present, but she’s working on it. She took the first step, at least.

She left.

“I wish you’d just come back,” her mother pleads, on the nights Nancy finds herself longing for the comforts of home, fingers grasped tight around the phone. What her mother doesn’t know is that she doesn’t call to be convinced to return.

She calls because it’s the one thing that strengthens her resolve to stay.

She only knows one person at the party.

Alice waves to her from across the apartment as Nancy navigates through the crowd, holding a six-pack in front of her like a peace offering, losing four along the way as she edges through and around clumps of people.

Nancy offers up the spare, taking the last beer for herself, and proceeds to endure the interminable agony that is entering a story halfway through and not knowing the teller well enough for them to recount the beginning. She likes Alice, she does, finding her Midwest sensibilities comfortingly refreshing after her months in the city, but theirs is a friendship of convenience, nothing deeper. Nancy wonders what Barb would say, if she were here.

Stop thinking about your dead friend and make some new ones, probably.

Nancy laughs to herself at the thought, and then starts at the unfortunate realization that someone is saying her name, and has been, for some time now.

“Sorry.” Her eyebrows raise, her eyes open wide, trying to make it seem like she was mostly listening this whole time. “I didn’t catch that.”

Alice gives her a look, but she’s smiling. “Sam was asking if you know the host.”

Sam ends up being a girl with black hair and even blacker eyeliner, who seems to be nursing Nancy’s other beer.

She shakes her head, shrugging a little. “Just Alice—”

“The only person that matters,” Alice interjects.

Nancy rolls her eyes a little. “I just moved here from Indiana,” she continues. “Alice is taking pity on me because I know no one in the city.”

Sam makes an ah yes face of benign interest, but then her eyebrows crinkle together. “Actually, my boyfriend grew up in Indiana, I think.” She turns her head, calls into the kitchen, but the actual name gets lost in the buzz of the crowd.

Sean, maybe.

Sam goes off in search of Sean (or was it John?) and Nancy takes a swig of beer as the conversation turns to the subway, as it is wont to do among people with only tenuous connections to each other but all with a singular hatred for their shared means of transportation.

Nancy’s just happy she has her own story—getting caught underground for half an hour, the windows steaming up as people shed clothes around her—and manages to coast on that contribution for the next twenty minutes, sipping the dregs of her bottle as the group grows and shrinks, and the stories go on and on.

She’s about to go in search of another drink (or if she’s being honest, maybe an Irish goodbye) when Alice begins recounting the story of her last date, a story Nancy knows from lunch last week, and realizes that she has one more story to contribute.

“—and when I told him I had to be up early the next morning, he rolls over, gives me a high five, says nothing else and strolls out the door. Haven’t seen him since.”

“I’ve got that beat,” says Nancy, and knocks back the rest of her beer. She takes a deep breath. “So I’m in seventh grade, and I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up after school. When—”

And then she sees him.

Coasting up to her just like he had eleven years ago.

“Oh my god,” she breathes.

She sees his hand reaching toward her, and for one absurd, heart-stopping moment, Nancy thinks he’s going to give her a high five. But the hand keeps going up, pulling her into a hug, and she actually cannot believe this is happening.

“Nancy Wheeler,” Jonathan Byers says, and she can feel her name vibrating through her, he’s holding her so tight. She wonders if that’s why she can’t catch her breath, but even after he releases her, she’s still got that feeling—like she’s missed a step, like the universe has been thrown out of alignment.

“Oh my god,” she says again, because that’s all she can do.

“I’m guessing you two know each other,” Alice remarks dryly.

He’s grinning, and his hair is shorter than it used to be (of course it would be, he’s not in seventh grade anymore), but he’s unmistakably Jonathan Byers, eleven years older. He spins to the side, wrapping his arm around Nancy, and she wonders if she’s dreaming, because this cannot actually be happening.

“Um, yeah,” she begins, but Jonathan cuts her off.

“Oh, we go way back,” he declares, and smiles fondly down at her. “Nancy’s my girlfriend.”

Nancy chokes on nothing, and changes her mind. She isn’t dreaming.

She has actually died.

It’s the only explanation. One last gasp of reality, chiding her for spending so much time thinking about a boy that she was never supposed to see again.

Death is cruel, though, because instead of the sweet bliss of nothingness, instead she has Jonathan Byers grinning at her, Alice looking at her, dumbstruck, and from behind her, a vaguely familiar voice saying, “I thought I was your girlfriend.”

Nancy turns to find Sam staring at her, a look of amused concern on her face.

“Um,” Nancy says.