Tumgik
#Crossover fever!
homkamiro · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
They are literally the same I'm not kidding
3K notes · View notes
drawnfamiliarfaces · 5 months
Note
If Chase Yuong and the First Ninja start a fight, who will win in your opinion? Either way, it's going to be epic.
Tumblr media
anon ANON thank you. I've been dying to think more about those two in the same context, ever since i realized the similarities of these two idiots i like (greenish hair? martial artist? magical? kinda lived long???) But i've shoved those crossover-ish ideas away since i am busy with other stuff lol. but this gives me an excuse >;)
Ok, if we do NOT take canons in consideration (because lets be truthful, cartoons rarely can give a full scope of a character to our satisfactions lol) so I have 2-3 vague scenarios in which they clash (IMO either of them can win??? (because i like them both, even if i am more of First fan, so I cant decide who of them winning would be more entertaining lol)):
If First Ninja in his prime (sometime after imprisoning Sorcerer but before the Ultimate Lesson) clashed with 700 yo Chase Young (since this fucker is canonically 1500 yo) who would probably try to defeat First in order to make him part of his Jungle Cats harem:
Tumblr media
Chase is ridiculously, stupidly overpowered but one could argue that at 700 he hasn't yet reached the height of all his powers, so First would certainly have a fighting chance. First is supposedly uniquely trained since (probably) his birth by his Ninja Clan and continuous battles with the Sorcerer (and most likely other creatures, like Sorceress and Tengu and etc.) throughout his teenage-young adult life to take on enemies like Chase - overpowered magical beings/soulless monsters - with the help of Ninja Mask and all its powers.
Admittingly, in this case the win will most likely go to Chase, if only because of his experience and overwhelming array of powers at his disposal. Though considering we do not know the full scope of Ninja Mask's powers, First has like maybe 15-25% chance to win (and at least 30-45% in my mind if i consider my own hc about the mask lol), but not 0%.
If First Ninja's 800 yo. spirit somehow was released from/embodied by Ninjanomicon to clash with 1500 yo Chase Young in the Modern Present:
Tumblr media
Here a lot of my hc come in play. I fully believe that if First - with all the developed abilities, experiences, memories, power (and possibly spirits) acquired during his stay/merge within the Ninjanomicon and from over like 200 people who ever used the mask over 800 years - fought 1500 yo Chase - who spent at least a century or 2 or 3?? hidden away in his Fortress, growing just a bit complacent, since he clearly became too strong and thus bored of the world when it couldn't offer him decent opponents anymore, at least not until current Monks - the fight could go either way.
Chase is still stupidly OP, but its clear that he was deprived of good opponents for a loooooong time, since he resorted to fight against/taunt teenagers and Omi, who is basically a kid still. And they frequently managed to outmanoeuvre him in their confrontations, if not in an actual hand-to-hand fight then at least in common sense lol.
Meanwhile First trained and learned with his each of his successors years in and out, and while we dont know exactly what sort of things happened, we can say for sure that the fighting was continuous. Ninja barely had any rest, for the Sorcerer probably attracted chaos inclined allies and minions and thus a never ending stream of enemies for Ninja to battle.
If basic bitches clash aka OG Good Chase and First Ninja before he was First Ninja:
Tumblr media
This is just for fun and because I fully believe that pre-Ninja Mask First will trounce Good Chase. xD
We do not know Chase's past, and there are various headcanons on how he came to be a Xiaolin Monk, but let's just say that judging by his apperance and XS voice, he is probably a very young adult-ish before he drunk his Soup, so he most likely was a Monk since at least his pre-teen/teen years. He appears to be insecure in his Monk-ness and in his abilities to become the greatest warrior despite his competence, since he was swayed/manipulated/convinced? to sell his soul to a demon for more power and freedom from Monk values.
If we judge First's appearance and voice, he would be perhaps a slight bit older than Chase when he became The Ninja, and not to mention since he was born into the Ninja Clan, he was likely trained since he was very young. His personality appears to be very studious and there is certainly a great deal of strength in his character since he not only managed to continue on with his duty even after loosing his brothers but also not succumbing to the overwhelming Power of the Mask that can corrupt those of weak belief and hold the title of the Ninja longer than anyone else.
(Not to mention I am of very biased opinion that Ninjas are cooler than Monks. lol. Also we can assume they all have magic of some sort. Like think Naruto like Ninjas and Xiaolin Elemental Dragons/Monks.)
ALSO in case 1, obviously if they fought with the agreement that if Chase wins he would ABSOLUTELY add First into his Jungle Cat harem. First will most likely add/request a stipulation that Ninja Mask was not taken with First and I can see Chase honoring that agreement, so the Ninja legacy will continue on and Chase still gets an incredible warrior to his ranks, and perhaps more warriors if the future ex-Ninjas would decide to try and fight him later on. ;)
Tumblr media
(first's animal form would be either a leopard or iriomote cat (both native to Japan) or a crow because tengu connection/associations ;D )
And if First wins, he certainly would figure out how to contain Chase, (perhaps even in the Ninjanomicon itself hohoho) since he somehow managed to contain a sorcerer that controls chaos with some binding, magic from a mythical beast and in a deep hole that perhaps connected to some dark realm, like??
Tumblr media
;)
240 notes · View notes
wingedblooms · 3 months
Text
Blooming dreams
Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than emperors. (Mary Cantwell)
This meta is a continuation of my thoughts over the years, but especially the ones expressed in the following links. Please be aware that there are major hofas spoilers in this post and avoid if needed.
Secret, lovely seer / Forbidden secrets
A rose in the thorns / The flower of life
Seer, wise woman, witch / Three sisters witches / Starborn light
Since my first meta, I have been fixated on Elain’s connection to the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (let's call her Wyrd) and her potential powers, including sight, shapeshifting, and healing. They are all related when you’re talking about Wyrd, though I am not here to say what I have written is what Sarah has planned. This post is more a love letter to Sarah’s mystical and earthy depiction of Elain and what I would love to see in her story based on all the seeds she’s planted (and if there is an actual magical bean seed involved, I’ll love her all the more for it). Thanks especially to @psychologynerd for previewing this fever dream of a post.
I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. (acotar)
From the first book in the series, Feyre recognizes that Elain views things differently. She views things that are sad and dark with hope, and that’s why Sarah has called her the quiet dreamer. It’s a strength that sets her apart. I like to think that’s also what the Cauldron—though warped by the Asteri—saw when she was forced into its womb. 
The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain…Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)
@silverlinedeyes and I wondered if it may have recognized Elain as a kindred spirit, some echo of its Mother form. A creator, life-bringer. Were the waters of the Cauldron more like Silba’s Womb—a darkness of creation, sweet and lovely—when Elain was immersed? Or is it possible that when Elain entered its dark womb she viewed it differently than her sister? Did she see a wounded creator to help rather than an enemy to combat? 
Elain’s hopeful perspective might be why it gifted her with such powers, powers that we know allow her to see differently than others. And since it may have enhanced her unique perception, I wonder if it also enhanced her ability to bring life and beauty into the world. As a gardener, Elain is well acquainted with the task of envisioning her garden and then getting her hands dirty to make that vision a reality. Dream and reality are entwined in gardening, just like her Sight.
“She loves to garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when–when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.” (acowar)  If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta…she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. [...] Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground. (acowar)  She had no mental shields, no barriers. The gates to her mind…Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers–or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar) If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s…They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar)  “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this…I think the world needs more gardens.” (acowar) 
As we saw in acosf for Nesta—a new type of warrior who forges magical swords and retrieves the Harp from an ancient fortress (the Prison) connected to the Starborn—these descriptions are clearly meant to foreshadow what occurs in the sisters’ stories. While Nesta is a freshly forged sword, Elain is blooming life in Illyria. And what do we learn in hofas? 
“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”  Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...]  “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)
We receive confirmation that the Cauldron is associated with the sister peaks, as I suspected, and Ramiel in particular as @merymoonbeam has previously suggested. 
Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.”  [...] “They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas) 
In Forbidden secrets, I theorized that Elain’s powers might allow her to map the secrets of the land in order to heal it and @offtorivendell discussed magical mounds in her theory on reviving dusk. It seems like the Asteri did indeed leave secrets behind, which might explain why certain places continue to be forbidden and barren. But we are given hope that they do not need to remain that way. In hofas, Bryce wakes and wields the land belonging to her Starborn ancestors on the Prison island:
And precisely as Theia had gifted her own power to Silene … perhaps Silene had in turn left that same power here, to be claimed by a future scion. One by one, rapid as shooting stars, the thoughts raced through Bryce. More on instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her hand atop the eight-pointed star. Bryce reached with her mind, through layers of rock and earth—and there it was. Slumbering beneath her. Not firstlight, not as she knew it on Midgard—but raw Fae power from a time before the Drop. The power ascended toward her through the stone, like a glimmering arrow fired into the dark— [...] Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light burst from the floor. A star, twin to the one in Bryce’s chest. Her starlight at last awoke again, as if reaching with shining fingers for that star hovering inches away. With trembling hands, Bryce guided the star to the one gleaming on her chest. Into her body. White light erupted everywhere. Power, uncut and ancient, scorched through her veins. The hair on her head rose. Debris floated upward. She was everywhere and nowhere. She was the evening star and the last rays of color before the dark. Azriel had nearly reached the tunnel. Another flap of his wings and he’d be swallowed by its dark mouth. But at a mere thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed, closing in on him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping for the winged warrior— The rock had moved for her, as it had for Silene. “Stop him,” she said in a voice that was more like her father’s than anything she’d ever heard come out of her mouth. Azriel swept for the tunnel archway—and slammed into a wall of stone. The exit had sealed. Slowly, he turned, wings rustling. Blood trickled out of his nose from his face-first collision with the rock now in his path. He spread his wings, bracing for a fight. The mountain shook, the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling. Walls began shifting, rock groaning against rock. As if the place this had once been was fighting to emerge from the stone. [...] From far away, she could sense it: the things lurking within the mountain, her mountain. Twisted, wretched creatures. Some had been here since Silene had trapped them. Had been contemplating their escape and revenge all this time. She’d let them out if she restored the mountain to its former glory. And in that moment, the mountain—the island—spoke to her. Alone. It was so alone—it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth— (hofas)
The mountain–Bryce’s mountain–speaks to her, asking her to open her heart to it so it can finally rise from its slumber. Cue internal screaming, my friends, because this language was intentional and it might finally explain Elain’s conversation in this scene: 
She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)
Elain’s hearing is a source of concern after she is Made because it is unusually heightened; she hears so many things, usually connected to the nature around her as @silverlinedeyes theorized. Like calls to like, and so she might be able to hear the beating heart of the land around her, even as it slumbers. Perhaps that is why her eyes were drawn to the barren ground in Illyria.
Vesperus, an Asteri trapped in a glass coffin below the Prison, tells us more about the connection between the Cauldron and the land: 
“I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. Bryce rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call you the Evening Star, too. Happy?” “Is it not fitting?” A wave of long fingers capped in sharp nails. “I drank from the land’s magic, and the land’s magic drank from me.” [...] Vesperus folded her hands in her lap. “A planet that was once green, as this one is.” “And that wasn’t good enough?” “We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.” [...] “Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron…” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”
This should come as no surprise because we saw this play out in acowar, but the Cauldron is tied to the soul of their world. The term soul is intentional, and we will return to it in a bit, but I started to wonder in Forbidden secrets about that connection. The influence of Wyrd is especially clear in the sacred peaks, where the Asteri left behind their secrets. Could Elain unravel the Asteri’s magic from the slumbering heart of the earth, and unbind the Cauldron as a result? Or will she need to go to Cretea to retrieve and purify the magic of the Asteri from the Cauldron like a healer would, in body and in spirit? (Hello, Nephelle celebrations, let’s go.) Nothing feels more right than seeing our strong-willed gardener get her hands dirty as she rips out the Asteri from the root, or beating heart, of their world. Sarah may have even hinted at this role for Elain as she describes getting into her mind for her book:
“There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain’s head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book. I’m not even joking. Elain’s now going to have dreams about ripping ivy out and the ivy creeping in through the windows to strangle her at night, because let me tell you, that ivy does not want to go.” (Sarah’s interview in acofas) 
English ivy is an aggressive invader and its hosts decline over time before they die. That’s exactly what the Asteri are: aggressive invaders that feed off of their hosts, warping the power of the land for their sole benefit, until it begins to wither away. In hofas, we learn that the Asteri hid their power throughout the land, including at the root of sacred mountains:
Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”
“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.
“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)
And we see the moment Bryce discovers that Vesperus has hidden her power in the root of the Prison mountain, which is what sustains her and weakens the land: 
Bryce clutched the Starsword tighter. Its power thudded into her palms like a heartbeat. “But why store your power here? It’s an island—not exactly an easy pit stop.” “There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”  […] “Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” […] “Theia had the gift,” Vesperus said, “but did not understand how to claim the light. I made sure never to reveal how during her training—how she might light up entire worlds, if she wished, if she seized the power to amplify her own. But you, Light-Stealer…She must have passed the gift down to you. And it seems you have learned what she did not.”  Vesperus peered at her bare feet, the rock beneath. “Theia never learned how to access the power I cached beneath my palace. She had no choice but to leave it there, buried in the veins of this mountain. Her loss—and my gain.” Oh gods. There was a fucking firstlight core here, far beneath their feet— (hofas)
These thin places are where ley lines—highways for magic and communication—overlap, allowing travel for those who are suited to it (wayfarers). Starborn and Asteri alike seem to be suited to these places, and have used them to store their power, causing the land around it to wither. 
“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.”
All of the sister peaks thrum with power and are at odds with the land around them. Barren. They might all be thin places, interconnected through ley lines...and hiding a cache of magic in the root (heart) of their souls.
Bryce’s ancestors, separated by the Void, planted clues for those with the gifts and vision to see it.
What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became … alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it. (hofas)
A secret carved in stone. What secrets remain under other sacred mountains, such as Ramiel? Is it any coincidence that Enalius, who defended Ramiel, was the owner of Truth-Teller? Or that the Cauldron is depicted there? Who would be equipped with the gifts and vision to uncover those secrets and finally set the soul of the land free, like Bryce? 
“Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it. […] Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was. (hofas)
Helena bound the soul of Avallen in magical chains. Doesn't that sound like what the Asteri did with the Cauldron and the land? There are so many hints that Elain is set up to address this plot, but the one I find the most compelling is given by the Under-King when he confirms who Urd (Wyrd) is:
The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos.” […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)
Now, doesn't that sound familiar?
Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)
The statues are essentially the same and Wyrd has already been described in terms that evoke the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (Forces That Be). And Nesta just happened to feel the need (fateful tug?) to place Elain’s rose—a symbol of life and joy and beauty—right next to Urd, and drew our attention to it again in the final scene of her story. What do you want to bet that Wyrd, the Stone Mother, gave her favorite gardener the gifts and vision she needs to make her dream of building more gardens, of breathing life and beauty into the land, a reality?
Sarah has confirmed that the main female characters in her books are helped by others, usually a love interest and friends. So who might be foreshadowed to help Elain?
I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”  “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. (acowar)  - “I’ll help you,” Nesta offered.  But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.”  Then she was gone–shoulders a little squarer.  - It was three by the time the others went to bed. [...] Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)
It’s no coincidence that the characters closest to Elain possess unique powers that complement her own and relate specifically to the elements of Stone Mother. Azriel learned to speak the language of shadow and wind and stone, while the half-wraith twins are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone as @psychee92 discusses here. Their magic likely thrives in thin parts of the world. It also isn't a coincidence that Nesta noticed and wondered this:  
“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (acosf) 
Their beautiful, wraith-like team has the gifts necessary to traverse the slumbering heart of the earth as easily as foreign courts, which is a hard combination to find and is uniquely suited for Elain’s mission to release the Cauldron and land from the magical chains of the Asteri. Especially since we learn that Bryce uses both blades of the Starborn to free Avallen from its magical chains:
On an exhale, she plunged the weapons into the slits in the eight-pointed star. The small one for the knife. The larger one for the sword.
And like a key turning in a lock, they released what lay beneath. (hofas)
They even help Bryce rid the land of the Asteri and their core of power, creating a larger void to devour the one the Asteri set in place. Back in acowar, as many have noticed, Sarah already planted this moment between Azriel and Elain:
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife. (acowar)
She and Azriel seem to represent the balance of light and dark in the Starsword and Truth-Teller, as @merymoonbeam theorized. The Starborn blade—the one belonging to Enalius—is a bridge of connection between them. Bryce leaves the Starsword (Gwydion) and Truth-Teller with Nesta, encouraging her to learn about her connection to the Starborn (eight-pointed star). That might mean the Archeron Starborn connection may happen after all. I could see Elain wielding those blades when needed, activating their magic as she seemed to do with Truth-Teller, to release the land from its magical chains. It would also be interesting if Elain and Azriel functioned like the Made blades themselves, releasing the Asteri’s chains with their own blend of raw magic, and watching joyously as life blooms in earnest again.
Once they remove the magical chains of the Asteri—on the land and their sacred Cauldron—perhaps we’ll also discover what exists between Elain and Azriel at last: 
Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports–likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City–the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. 
“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” 
“I’d keep that question from Lucien.” 
“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” 
Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…” (acowar)
@silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @elriell and others have written extensively about mating bonds, so I won’t discuss that in depth here. Essentially, Feysand and Nessian appear to have bonds that are true in spirit, and they are described as living threads of pure golden light between their souls. 
Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful. (acosf) 
This living light reminds me of the dawn, which is associated with healing and new beginnings. When Feysand and Nessian bind their souls together in these scenes, the dawn is invoked each time: 
Feysand
…I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world. (acomaf)
Nessian
Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world. (acosf)
And when Azriel first sees Elain in his bonus chapter, her hair is unbound and she appears like the dawn, gilded in living light on the longest night of the year. 
Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.
The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)
Is it possible that, with Elain’s connection to Wyrd and the land, her own threads of life are similarly chained, or warped? Perhaps when Elain clears away the Asteri’s power, we will finally see the truth blooming between them: threads of golden light twining together in an endless, earthy melody.
168 notes · View notes
somber-sapphic · 10 months
Note
hello! i’m like obsessed with your writing and would really like request another marina x reader with the 99.9% immunity and the milking it types of sickie. have a wonderful day/ night 😊
Sniffles and Snuggles
〖Notes: Wow, this is late. I'm sorry it took so long, please enjoy. I know the ending is a bit rushed.〗
〖Summary: Perfect immune system my ass.〗
〖Word Count: 1884 〗
〖Pairing: marina x reader〗
☾Masterlists☽
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten sick. Not an exaggeration, you genuinely couldn’t remember. Maya had a stomach bug a few months ago and she had assured you that you would end up getting it, basically promising that you would soon be joining her on the bathroom floor. 
Not to brag, but you hadn’t. Instead, you’d managed to take care of the firefighter and Carina, who had succumbed to the same illness only hours after Maya. Your girlfriends were incredibly glad that you hadn’t gotten sick, both because they needed help (though they’d never admit it) and because you were….somewhat of a pain when you got sick. 
It didn’t happen often, it practically never happened, but when it did you got hit hard. And when you got hit hard, you got a tad whiny. They both agreed that you had the right to be overdramatic when you got sick it was never a minor cold, it was the flu, pneumonia, food poisoning, strep, and even chickenpox. The three of you were all confused about that last one, but you had been holding onto your girlfriends with everything you had. 
The morning you woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat you knew that you were in for a week of hell. The alarm blared in your ear, pleading with you to turn it off and get ready for the day. The sound hammered against your skull, pounding nails of fire into your brain. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself get up. You couldn’t move, your stiff limbs absolutely refused the orders to move.
“Y/n, turn it off,” Maya grumbled, nudging you in the hip with her knee. She was wrapped around Carina with one of her legs draped over your torso. The woman was practically the definition of a bed hog, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it. The way she starfished out across the mattress was so cute (most of the time).
When you didn’t move to quiet the alarm, she sat up, groaning loudly as she smacked the stupid device. 
“I do not know why you’re complaining, it’s your alarm, Maya,” Carina said in response, a yawn following immediately after her sentence. The blonde smacked her phone until the blaring stopped and you let out a sigh of relief, curling back up so that you were a small ball. 
“Y/n? Are you okay bambina?” The brunette asked, sitting up beside Maya. You sniffled in response, rubbing your knuckles against your runny nose. A harsh cough erupted from your lips, your chest burning and your body convulsing with each expulsion of air. 
You leaned over the bed and spit a glob of mucus into the trash can, wondering what was wrong with you this time. The crackling in your lungs and what was probably a middle-grade fever suggested bronchitis. You’d heard Carina talk about medicine enough to diagnose yourself pretty well over the years. 
Tears sprang to your eyes and you touched your throat, the light probing of the skin causing more pain somehow. You turned to squish your face into the pillow, trying to seem less babyish than you felt. Every time you got sick your emotions went absolutely haywire and it was humiliating. 
One of your girlfriends (probably Maya, she was closer) laid a hand on the nape of your neck and gasped softly. You could practically see the worry on her face even though you were facing away from her. 
“Car, she’s burning up.” The blonde murmured, getting a soft curse from Carina. 
“She came to see me at the hospital the other day. It was overrun with flu patients.” The Italian replied, looking a little pleased with herself for remembering the expression. You rolled over, your lower lip quivering as you looked into the loving faces of your girlfriends. 
Carina leaned across Maya and laid the back of her hand against your forehead, her expression souring. She tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear and rested her palm against your cheek lovingly. 
You pulled away to sneeze into your pillow, the loud sound wearing you out even further. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time that you had felt so sick, but you knew that it would probably end in hospitalization if you didn’t cooperate. 
You began to cry in earnest, shaking with coughs as your sobs irritated your throat and lungs. Maya, who wasn’t always the most physically affectionate, pulled you into a tight hug, allowing you to tuck your head under her chin, against her chest. 
“Okay, babe. You chose the right time to get sick because Car and I both have the day off. Just lay back down and we’ll get everything taken care of. Does that sound good?” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 
You sniffled and nodded into her chest, beginning to feel more comfortable with the idea of being sick. It was almost frightening to think that you would be alone, but knowing that the women you loved would be there to make sure that you didn’t die was nice. 
“Did you feel sick yesterday Y/n?” Carina asked, prompting you to think back to the day before. Now that she’d mentioned it, you’d felt sort of heavy yesterday and a bit tired, but you’d chalked it up to a poor night's sleep the day before. 
Maya had had a particularly bad nightmare and had woken up screaming. It had just been the two of you so it had fallen to you to take care of her, to calm her down. It had been a long night for the both of you, after she finally fell back to sleep you had remained awake just in case the blonde needed you again. 
“Kinda.” You rasped, wrinkling your nose in shock at how your voice sounded. It was the first word that you had spoken during the conversation and you truly hadn’t expected to sound as bad as you did, especially in just one word. It was congested and hoarse and grated against your raw throat. 
“Geez, that doesn’t sound great. I’ll go make you some tea, see if we can sort that out a bit.” Maya pecked your forehead before slipping from the bed and padded out of the room on bare feet, seeming to forget about the slippers which she typically wore. 
You rubbed your nose against your fist and frowned over at Carina who was scooting closer to you, wearing what you liked to call her ‘doctor face’. 
“Carina-”
“Hush. May I feel?” She asked, gesturing toward your throat. God, she was preparing to give you a full exam. You loved her very much, but you hated medical professionals. You coughed into your shirt and forced yourself to sit up, a rush of dizziness flooding through your head as you did so. 
“Yeah.” You mumbled, giving a weak shrug. Carina placed her hands at the base of your throat, probing swollen glands with incredibly gentle hands. She moved up to under your eyes, frowning slightly as you winced when she pressed there. 
“Your sinuses feel a bit swollen. Did it hurt?” You nodded and leaned forward to lay your head on yer shoulder. 
“Oh, cara mia. In a few hours if you do not feel any better we can go to Grey Sloan and get you seen.” She said gently, rubbing your back in a comforting manner. You didn’t want to go to the hospital, but if she was right about a sinus infection you knew that you wouldn’t have much of a choice. 
“Alright, I’ve got chamomile tea with lemon and honey and a thermometer,” Maya announced, walking back into the room with not only that but also a bottle of what may be the most vile thing on earth: cough medicine.
“Thank you.” You managed, taking the steaming mug gratefully. You blew on the hot liquid and took a careful sip, a soft smile spreading over your cracked lips. It was the perfect temperature and although you couldn’t taste it, you were sure that it was amazing. It soothed your throat and that’s all that mattered. 
“Of course babe, it’s the least I could do. What’s with the face, Carina?” The blonde asked, nodding toward the Italian woman who was gnawing on her lip with worried eyes. 
“We are going to end up in the hospital. It’s always the hospital with this one.” She grumbled, squeezing your elbow affectionately. There was no real malice behind her tone, just mild annoyance mixed with concern. 
Maya chuckled and sat back on the edge of the bed, scooting you over a bit. She dragged the thermometer across your forehead, resting it on your temple as the three of you waited for the beep. 
“We’ll try to avoid that this time, right Y/n/n?” You cracked a smile and took another sip of the tea, settling back into bed. For now, you weren’t going anywhere. “Oh, by the way, I snuck the medicine into the tea so you’re drinking it all.”
The look on your face must have been priceless because both women started to cackle, Carina even going as far as to double over as tears came to her eyes. 
“That was uncalled for.” You grumbled, eyeing the drink in a new light. It wasn’t like you could taste the medicine, but knowing that it was in there made you hesitant to drink it. Part of you debated trekking to the kitchen to dump the whole thing out. 
“Drink it all and I won’t help Carina make you soup later.” Maya threatened, reminding you of her utter lack of skill in the kitchen. She had given you and Carina food poisoning once over bad lasagna and you had vowed never to eat something she cooked again. 
“Fine, I’ll drink. But I want cuddles. Will you give me cuddles?” The brunette on your left wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed your collarbone, pushing her nose against your skin. 
“Of course bella. All of the cuddles. We can watch whatever movie you want and I’ll make Pastina with Maya locked in another room.” Carina chuckled, nudging the tea a bit closer to your face. You took a deep sip, almost finished with the mug. 
Now that you knew it was in there what was left of your sense of taste was picking up on the medicine. It was no longer the best thing that had happened in days, it was now disgusting. 
“You can’t taste for shit, stop complaining. Come on, one more sip and you’re done.” With a slight eye roll (which you regretted, it hurt) you took one big gulp, finishing the rest of the medicated tea. 
“You win.” You rasped, shoving the mug back towards Maya, who was wearing an amused expression on her face. 
“Thank you, my dear.” She singsonged, taking the mug as she leaned forward to kiss your forehead. 
A non-fever-related blush crossed your cheeks and you hummed quietly, curling back up under the blankets. For now, you could relax. Maybe it would get worse, but even if it did, these two had your back. Dating an EMT and a doctor could really come in handy. 
〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13
314 notes · View notes
jounetsunosymphonia · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
You're a friend.
old-ish sasasama based on shoujo rei and inspired by just an absolutely insane number from stage where tdd-era samatoki has a fever dream about sasara
edit: I FORGOT THE.
Tumblr media
49 notes · View notes
whosname · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media
Last one. Utsuro being bi on the last task (sorry Joelle, I couldn't Shinpachi for my life today so no Little Shimura Shinpachi reaction. But screenshots under the cut)
[ID. Gintama fanart. Gintama x Taskamaster sketch. Utsuro (as the Taskmaster) is seated on the Taskmaster throne looking at the stage and saying "That's it- a thong on a sausage". End ID.]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
13 notes · View notes
octowoman2419 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
hit me baby one more time!
a drawing of the tap troupe from rhythm heaven as the baby one more time coaches from just dance 3.
did a poll saying which just dance song should they be in for a drawing and most people voted for baby one more time.
here they are, in all their glory, wearing school dresses that look like cheerleader attire to me.
i also included the original background of the routine that i found in the just dance wiki. nice!
24 notes · View notes
betasuppe · 4 months
Text
My greatest crossover idea will always be Jurassic World x Diary of a Wimpy Kid, where Greg & Rodrick have to survive one dinosaur encounter after the other, all while trying not to murder one another too.
Broken family / divorce angle?? Nahhh, the brothers were sent out to bond with their aunt & get a test in survival the whole time, defeating dinosaurs with sheer dumb luck & good timing, is all.
Tumblr media
I genuinely need this in my life & actually don't know if I can stop myself from writing it now lmaooooo
21 notes · View notes
invalidmanokit · 1 year
Text
yall ready for another fever dream that makes 0 sense?
Catty: *holds up Dempsey, but he's a rat*
Richtofen: ??
Catty: I have a rat
Richtofen: um.. good kitty?
Catty: he's got the plague
Richtofen: *perfectly cut scream of terror*
60 notes · View notes
closet-thing · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
"In the winter months, gale storms in Svalbard can reach wind speeds of 130 km/h. Accompanied by, or following, snowfall, such storms can reduce visibility dramatically, more so in the frigid months of the polar night. During these storms, travel is not advised."
393 notes · View notes
ninebaalart · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Disco Fever BMO
this is my BMO that i painted with the Disco Fever paint brush thank you very much
13 notes · View notes
nayialovecat · 8 months
Text
The Ink Demonth 2023 - Day 3. Creator
Tumblr media
Day 3. Creator Crossover: Bad Dream: Fever Plot: In "Bad Dream: Fever", we're dealing with a mysterious plague that turns people's blood into ink (or something like that)... And now we have an ink demon... Any question? xD If Bendy was in this game, the game would end in the first scene right after the tutorial XD The gentleman who yells "cheater" is, of course, the game creator, who has a right to be pissed. Because drawing a background from the game would be a killer for me (for my hand and mental health), I used a screenshot from the original game here (which I'll probably do in a few other entries too). I highly recommend the game by the way. Both "Bad Dream: Fever" and "Bad Dream: Coma", which is one of my favourite point&click games in recent times. You can find them on Steam and GOG, and probably somewhere else... Bendy and the Ink Machine (c) Joey Drew Studios Inc. Bad Dream: Fever (c) Desert Fox Sammy and the Ink Machine (c) Nayia Lovecat
29 notes · View notes
duartesjude · 9 months
Text
the way i have survived the past week on advil and gay tv alone.
42 notes · View notes
ccarrot · 1 year
Text
idk if i mentioned this but SOUKOKU is like. TIMKON but EVILER
it's all in the way Tim and Dazai struggled at showing emotions, it's the way their both perceived and act like cold and detached geniuses, it's the way they act really silly and goofy while also being extremely unhinged or very serious at times. Are severely NOT NORMAL about their respective powerhouse bfs (see: Tim trying to clone Kon back to life, Dazai being. Dazai.). They're both prodigy detectives, they're both fruity as hell. The way they both lost someone very dear to them and that causes them to run away from their place on a self discovery quest sorta thing.
And Kon and Chuuya are like, crazy similar too: spent a solid amount of their childhoods as a lab experiment, have cloning trauma, similar powers -> kon's tactile telekinesis works the same way as chuuya's gravity manipulation. They're extremely loyal to a fault to their friends, harbor a lot of self insecurity, wear cool leather jackets + neat hairstyles. Louder assertive personalities. Take on an insane weight of responsibility.
Not to mention Timkon and skk are both rivals to -> "???" dynamic
46 notes · View notes
somber-sapphic · 8 months
Note
hey lovey! could you possibly do 3 and 11A from the prompts for wandanat or marina? you choose!
I was thinking they work themselves too hard until they can’t deny they are unwell. Then they collapse and terrify their girlfriends, and fluffy sick comfort after ❤️
Perfect Partners
Tumblr media
〖Notes: Hi sweet anon! I'm so sorry, this one slipped through the cracks I just found it in my drafts and finished it up. Please forgive my medical words, I am very much not a medical professional, my knowledge all comes from Grey's Anatomy and Google. I hope you enjoy! (for some reason my Station 19 fics always get long)〗
〖Summary: What you thought was a cold lands you in the hospital.〗
〖Word Count: 1.9k〗
〖Pairing: Marina x Sick Reader〗
〖Warnings: IV, hospital setting -not sure if this is a real warning but hospitals terrify me so I figured I'd add it in-〗
☾Masterlists☽
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You slammed your fists against the punching bag, breathing heavily through your mouth as cold rivulets of sweat rolled down your back. Every few breaths were punctuated by a cough, but there wasn’t much you could do about that.
Maya had invited you to the gym, and while you both normally preferred to work out separately, it was her way of mending the argument you’d had the night before.
It was one you’d had frequently, where you would yell about her dangerous career while she bit back about your boring one. Carina hadn’t been home to mediate, leaving the two of you to fight it out on your own.
The blonde asked you to come to the gym as her way of extending the olive branch, apologizing for the way she had spoken to you. Your acceptance was your way of doing the same. You loved her so much, even with the fights. She understood that they came from a place of fear, and both of you felt guilty every time.
The firefighter had been glancing over at you for about twenty minutes now as you moved from machine to machine, listening to your wheezy breaths and heavy coughs. Of course, she knew that it was time to go home, but she was worried about how to bring it up.
Maya knew that you had a habit of getting defensive when it came to your health—probably a side effect of living with a doctor and a paramedic—and didn’t want a repeat of last night. However, as the morning went on, the woman was beginning to realize that it was time to get you home and into bed.
You threw another punch and gasped, a sudden sharp pain in your chest. You doubled over a bit and started to cough, unable to contain it. Luckily, the two of you were early enough that the gym was mostly empty, but the two or three other patrons cast you a disgusted look; one even stepped off his machine to move to the other side of the room. You couldn’t blame him.
“Woah, okay, your complexion is scaring me. Please sit down.” Maya’s hand fell on your back, and she eased you onto the floor, not shying away from your very sweaty self. Nevertheless, she rubbed between your shoulder blades until you were able to regain your breath.
“Okay, come on. Let’s go shower, then I’ll take you home,” the blonde said, her voice soft but firm. You groaned softly and shook your head, moving to check the tape across your knuckles. It had slipped a bit, but there wasn’t any damage to your hands. You hadn’t done a great job of wrapping them; you had been too shaky.
“No, you’re not done with your workout. I’ll just maybe sit, do one of the leg machines so that you can finish,” you replied, your lips fumbling over the words. You were still struggling to catch your breath, the combination of the workout and the chest cold not working in your favor.
“We’re done. Shower at home or here?” She decided, bracing your elbows to hold you up. The medic knew that she wouldn’t be able to discern your temperature until you cooled down from the workout, but based on how you had looked this morning, she was guessing that you at least had a little fever.
Maya was wracking her brain, coming up with every instance over the last few days that you had seemed even the least bit off. During your argument the night before, you had started to cry, but it was a hard topic she didn’t think too much of. Now that she was looking back, though, she was able to name probably ten instances where you had acted out of the ordinary.
She should have noticed it earlier and was already beating herself up over it.
You shrugged, not really wanting to shower anywhere. You were tired and felt gross, and now that it was all up in the air, you kind of wanted just to go home.
The blonde caressed your cheek and kissed your sweaty forehead, grimacing at the sweat covering your skin. It wasn’t the grossest thing she’d seen that week; her job generally consisted of dirt, smoke, blood, sweat, and other fluids, but it wasn’t lovely either.
“Okay, let's get you rinsed off really quick, and then we can go home.” You didn't have the strength to argue, so you just let her lead you into the showers, grateful that she was willing to help you undress and get under the cool stream. You weren’t thrilled by the temperature, but she had set it that way for a reason.
The shower was quick, just a short rinse before you were out again and wrapped in a towel. Thankfully, the clothes you’d shoved into the bag for the post-workout were much more comfortable. They consisted of Carina’s oversized Grey + Sloan Memorial Hospital sweatshirt and your favorite pair of sweatpants.
The shower had made you cold, so you were doubly grateful for the warm clothes, which you snuggled into without any hesitation.
Maya smiled fondly and kissed the tip of your nose, making you sneeze. You pouted a bit and lifted your head from your sleeves, mildly annoyed by the damp spot left from where you’d wiped your nose.
“Ew,” The blonde chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You leaned against her, not caring about the looks you got from a few store employees. It didn’t really matter anymore; you were going home.
When you arrived at the house that the three of you shared, you found it empty, a note left by Carina sitting on your counter. Maya deposited you on the couch before grabbing the note, sighing at the words scrawled in the brunette’s typically perfect handwriting. She didn't fit the stereotype of doctors' poor handwriting.
“Car was called in for some emergency surgery; looks like it’s just the two of us,” she said softly, walking around the counter to sit beside you. You scooted over to her and put your head on her chest, nuzzling into her sweater. It probably smelled like her, but your nose was too stuffy to smell anything.
You were only able to sit like that for a few minutes before you started to cough again, your breaths coming in harsh wheezes. Your chest was tight, and your lungs full of mucus.
Now that you were closer, Maya was getting even more concerned. Not only had your fever developed far too quickly for her liking, but she was also worried about your shallow, squeaky breaths.
“I’m going to get my bag. Stay put,” she ordered, not realizing that you wouldn’t be moving even if she asked, not without assistance at least.
The blonde raced through the house to find her medical bag, snagging it from the bedroom where she and Carina always kept them. When she returned, you were half asleep, drooling onto a pillow. Even with your pale gaunt face and red nose, she thought you were adorable.
Maya sat down beside you and pulled out her thermometer, which was quickly dragged across your forehead to reveal a temperature of 102.5. It wasn't drastically alarming, but it wasn't something that stemmed from a simple cold.
“Okay babe, sit up for me.” She coaxed, pulling you into a sitting position. You whined your displeasure, worrying the young woman. An hour ago, you had been working out, albeit not with any particular rigor or accuracy, and now you could barely hold your head up. This was an unexpectedly rapid decline, which was beginning to make her wonder if a hospital visit was in order.
The paramedic rested the stethoscope on your chest, listening to your crackling breaths with intense focus. She repeated the process on your back, shaking her head in mild frustration. When she leaned back, she hung the stethoscope around her neck, leaning forward to look into your eyes.
“I…I really don’t feel well.” You admitted, your voice barely audible.
“Looks like we��re going to visit Carina.” She said gently, earning a whimper from you. You had absolutely no interest in moving from your spot on the couch, but Maya had made it clear that you didn’t get a say in the matter.
“I know, but we don’t really have another option right now.”
It didn’t take long for you to find yourself lying on a cot in a hospital room, a bracelet around your wrist, an oxygen mask covering your face, and an IV in your arm. Most of it was a blur, but you certainly remembered a concerned Dr. April Kepner who had decided to take your case even after you were transferred to the hospital proper.
Now, you were curled up in a bed beside Maya, listening to whatever music she had decided to play on her phone. Carina had been updated on your condition and was supposed to be getting out of surgery in about an hour, but for now, you and Maya were making it work.
・.・✭・.・✭・.・✭・.・✭・.・
Carina rushed into your hospital room, devoid of her white coat. Her eyes were full of panic, which only diminished when she saw you smile.
“Cara mia.” She breathed, walking to sit beside you on the bed. There wasn't a whole lot of room with Maya lying beside you, but she managed. She carded her fingers through your hair and glanced at your monitor, watching the steady beep of your heartbeat.
“How bad are they?” the pediatric surgeon asked, keeping her voice quiet so as not to disturb you. You were sort of asleep, only slightly aware of what was going on around you. All you really knew was that the people you loved were beside you, bringing you immense comfort.
“When we got here, their O2 stats were in the 80s, temp 102.9. Kepner was in the pit; she did a chest x-ray. Looks like pneumonia. She has them on antibiotics and saline for hydration. The plan is to keep them overnight just to be safe and reevaluate in the morning,” Maya replied, mixing medical jargon with comforting her concerned girlfriend.
Carina let out a relieved sigh and smiled, leaning down to kiss your feverish forehead. You grabbed a fistful of her baby pink scrubs, not fully noticing what she was wearing. Even if you had, you didn’t care.
“Someone pushed themselves too hard, huh?” She murmured, settling down into the bed with you squished between herself and Maya. She didn’t even consider changing into real clothes; being with you mattered more.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to come to the gym with me.” The blonde said into your hair, laying her head on Carina’s fingers. The surgeon continued to drag her nails against your scalp, and Maya wrapped your fingers in hers.
“S’okay.” You whispered, settling further into the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it was much better with your girlfriends there. You didn’t even care about the argument between you and Maya the night before; it was one you’d had before, and you’d probably have it again.
Regardless, you loved the woman, and you always would. Every so often, you were reminded of just how lucky you were to be with the two of them. A doctor and a firefighter, the perfect partners.
〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @juststuckhereforever, @chairhere, @goldenempyrean, @villaneve4life
262 notes · View notes
fever-project · 1 month
Text
LU fandom which Link would have Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney as their lawyer and why I need to draw this stupid AU
Rn I’m just thinking of the chain landing in Japanifornia due to reasons and Wind ended up with a murder charge because the guy he killed was kidnapping children. Honestly this doesn’t even need to be LU but I am turning around this stupid crossover in head at 100000 miles per hour. Pls help
8 notes · View notes