drkeminity

[drkeminity]

Hero stepped up beside Zak, eyes fixin’ on the two tiny bundles behind the glass. He let out a slow breath, scratchin’ at his jaw like he was tryin’ to make sense of somethin’ too big to put into words.

“Damn,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “Look at ‘em.” Hell of a pair."

Small didn’t even begin to cover it. Fragile, new to the world, yet already fightin’ just to be here. Something about it hit him in a place he wasn’t expectin’, the weight of it settlin’ deep in his chest.

He leaned a little closer, hands braced on his hips, watchin’ as one of ‘em—Luka, if he was guessin’ right—shifted slightly, little fingers twitchin’. “Ain’t it wild?” he murmured, blue eyes still locked on the babies. “One minute, they’re just an idea, somethin’ you talk about, and then—bam. They’re here. Whole damn world changes in an instant.”

Hero huffed out a breath, a wry smirk pullin’ at the corner of his mouth as he shot a glance at Zak. “And you? How you feelin’, man? ‘Cause I gotta say, fatherhood looks real good on you.” His voice was light, teasing, but there was real respect there too. Zak had been through hell, yet here he was—standin’ proud, whole, with a family to show for it. That was somethin’ worth admirin’.

Zak shook his head, "It's okay. I didn't either, Ox and I had already left for the hospital." Zak felt slightly guilty for not being there, but much more thankful his love and children were out of harm's way. "Right this way," Zak said as he nodded down the hall before leading him.

They came up to the window of the NICU, they were in there being checked out and treated. There are a lot of concerns for premature kids, but it seems so far they are both doing well. "Little Irina and Luka. God they are so small, it's so crazy."

[drkeminity]

“Water? That’s cold, Rubes. And not even the fun kind with ice.” He shook his head, gaze flickering with amusement. “I pour my heart out about Staten Island’s impending Mad Max era, and you’re out here offering me hydration?” A beat. “I mean, I’ll take it if it comes in a very expensive glass that makes me feel important, but otherwise? Disappointing.”

He let the teasing hang between them before shifting slightly, leaning against the nearest surface with a casual ease that didn’t quite match the sharp way he was still watching her.

“Alone with your thoughts, ” His lips quirked, something between understanding and skepticism. “Must be nice. Personally, mine are like a chaotic group chat—no volume control, constant bad ideas, and at least one existential crisis at three a.m.”

His tone was easy, but he wasn’t blind. Ruby liked to be alone—needed it, even. Zed got that. But there was a fine line between solitude and getting stuck inside your own head.

“So, what’s the latest genius revelation? Or are we still in the brooding stage?” He raised a brow, smirk tilting. “If you need background commentary, I’m available. Can’t promise it’ll be helpful, but it will be entertaining.”

"Mmm .... Glad to see your clever wit has stuck with you." She wished she could come up with witty remarks like he did. It was always amusing to her, hearing what he had to say. At least he was able to maintain a sense of humor in the chaotic world they'd lived in. Ruby had never seen herself as a humorous individual. Though she did surround herself with them.

Ruby knew she was slightly different than her fellow gang members. While she knew she could lean on them for support, she preferred isolation. She thought better on her own, she didn't have any distractions that way. She wanted to know what was going on, and she was determined to figure that out eventually. "Being alone with my thoughts helps sometimes," she told him, her words sincere. She didn't isolate to hurt anyone. It was just how she functioned.

"So .... you'll have water?" she asked teasingly, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

[drkeminity]

Zed leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place as he took in the absolute train wreck that was Willem trying—and failing—to act like he wasn’t two seconds away from face-planting onto the hospital floor.

"Yeah, no offense, but you look about as fine as a Windows XP update. Glitching, barely functional, and definitely about to crash," he quipped, stepping inside with a slow shake of his head.

He didn’t bother stopping him from trying to stand—Willem was a grown-ass man, and if he wanted to eat linoleum, who was Zed to deny him? But the second he swayed, Zed let out a dramatic sigh and reached out, one firm hand pressing against his shoulder to keep him from toppling over like a drunk Jenga tower.

"Alright, chill. You’ve already got one concussion, let’s not aim for a matching set, yeah?" He arched a brow, expression teetering between amusement and exasperation. "What’s the rush? Got a hot date? Secret underground fight club meeting? Extremely urgent Netflix binge?"

Zed knew the answer before Willem could even try to form it—this was a man who didn't sit still well, not when there were bigger concerns clawing at the edges of his mind. And yeah, Zed got that.

His smirk softened just a fraction. "Look, I get it. Sitting in a hospital bed while everything’s going to shit outside is agony—trust me, I’ve been there. But maybe don’t make it worse by throwing yourself at the ground like it owes you money."

He leaned back slightly, giving Willem a once-over, then smirked again. "Besides, I’d hate to be the one to break it to your crew that you got taken out by bedsheets." A beat. "That’s gotta be, like, a bottom-tier way to go."

St. John's Hospital open. @sinnerssquarestart

The loud ringing in his ears, the throbbing beat of his temple, the sharp pain of light against his sensitive retinas - Willem recognized all the symptoms of a concussion, from studying it extensively during medical school to experiencing it on a semi-regular basis, ever since he joined the Ghost Riders. It was nothing new, and yet the restless agitation, his own barely suppressed panic at being kept in bed when he didn't know how any of his family, his friends were doing, made the entire experience almost surreal, an out-of-body experience he couldn't escape from.

"I told you-" An uncharacteristic snap to his voice, as he addressed the person who had just entered his room, his blurry vision telling him it was probably a nurse or a doctor. "-I'm fine. I don't need to be admitted for observation-" He spoke while struggling to extricate himself from the sheets, his entire body unconsciously listing to the side as he attempted to stand.

Willem screwed up his expression in a poor attempt to hide his growing nausea. "-I'm fine."

[drkeminity]

"Doc, I live in a state of controlled chaos. Shock is just another Tuesday." His grip was steady but quick to release once she found her footing. The moment she clicked into doctor mode, he knew she was fine—well, as fine as anyone could be while running headfirst into an inferno.

Her offer not to puke made him smirk despite the hellscape surrounding them. "Deal," he quipped. "But if I do go down, just make sure I look good. Open casket and all." Then, no more jokes—only movement, calculation, reaction.

The fire cast jagged shadows across the wreckage, the flickering light making it feel almost unreal. He heard the cries before he saw them, and when Amara shouted for supplies, he was already shrugging out of his jacket.

"Best I got unless you wanna stitch ‘em up with my shoelaces," he called, tossing it toward her without hesitation.

The air was thick, every breath tasting like smoke and desperation. Zed wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve, scanning the chaos for anything useful—anything that could turn the tide even a fraction. "Tell me what you need, Doc, and I’ll get it."

Amara could tell this man knew what he was talking about - had seen and been around this type of chaos before, just like her. Chaos recognized chaos as she nodded at him, coughing a bit with the smoke and nodding in gratitude as he helped her up. "Fu-Fuck - yeah, sorry, I'm good. The - The shock of it all, you know? Makes me weak in the legs. What the hell happened, do you know? Are there any medical officials yet on the scene?" Amara asked, going straight into doctor mode. She tried to steady herself, before seeing and taking in the agony of other people's pain - seeing them crying for help near the fire and all Amara could do was try and get to them. "I won't puke as long as you won't puke. Deal?" When they entered near the ferris wheel, where the real insanity was happening, Amara went to the most critical people first, people that were crying for help, that needed her and she looked for the man who had pulled her up. "Hey! Hey, do you have anything to wrap a bleed? Anything at all? They're bleeding - and they're going to go into shock if I don't stop the bleeding."

[drkeminity]

"You mean besides the mild smoke inhalation, the absolute chaos, and the fact that Staten Island is now one step closer to resembling a post-apocalyptic wasteland?" He exhaled, shaking his head in mock exasperation. "Oh, just fantastic, really."

His gaze swept over her, sharp and assessing, though the usual glint of mischief softened—just a fraction.

"But hey, you know me—resilient as ever." He tapped his temple. "I’d say unshakable, but that’d be a blatant lie. Some of us don’t cope by becoming temporary recluses, though. Bold choice. What’s the verdict? Find anything yet, or just really enjoying the ambiance of self-imposed lockdown?"

A beat passed before he added, with a casual shrug, "And I’ll take a drink, since you’re offering. Preferably something that won’t make me question my life choices—any more than I already do."

♡ ˚ ﹔ open @sinnerssquarestart. ( 2/4 ) ♡ ˚ ﹔ muse ; ruby. ♡ ˚ ﹔ location ; ruby's apartment. open to society, ghost riders & civilians.

She had been locked away in her apartment for roughly a day and a half. Sitting around at the hospital felt like it was pointless. She wouldn't be doing anything of value there. She kept in touch with everyone in her circle, but she didn't want to wait around, she wanted to find answers. She hadn't been successful yet, but she wasn't a defeatist. She'd figure something out sooner or later. Her guest wasn't unwelcome by any means, she just hadn't been anticipating any company. "Can I get you anything?" she offered, taking in their appearance. "How have you been feeling since the carnival?"

[drkeminity]

ABBOTT ELEMENTARY Barbara Howard and Jacob Hill -> 4x13 Science Fair

[drkeminity]

Bianca didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second explaining—there wasn’t time for that. Instead, she thrust the little girl into Dylan’s arms, her grip firm, precise, like she wasn’t about to entertain any protests.

“Find her mother,” she ordered, voice razor-sharp, leaving no room for argument. “Or someone who can help her.”

The girl let out a weak, hiccupping sob as she clung to him, and for a moment, Bianca’s gaze softened—just a flicker, there and gone like a shadow in the firelight. Then it was gone, swallowed up by the cold calculation she always fell back on when the world went to hell.

“I need to keep moving.” Her words were steady, controlled, even as smoke burned at her throat. She was already scanning the wreckage, eyes sharp, mind turning over the next steps. There were others still trapped, still screaming. And Bianca? She wasn’t the type to stand by and watch.

She met Dylan’s eyes, assessing, measuring whether he was the type to rise to the occasion or crumble under pressure. “She’s terrified,” Bianca added, quieter now, an undercurrent of something almost personal threading through the words. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

And just like that, she was gone, slipping back into the chaos without waiting for confirmation.

There is something strangely sobering about the shrill screams from hundreds of people at once. Whatever Dylan has drunk tonight feels like it has evaporated in the midst of chaos. He's never felt more alert, yet fucking confused. Everything is so loud, limbs scrambling over each other to safety. Some running towards the collapsed structure, colliding with those trying to get out.

He should be trying to get out. His brain is screaming at him to turn around. But he knows Freddie is probably in there somewhere, half-cocked amongst all the danger. That fucking guy, Dylan curses to himself. When I find him I'll- the thought is drowned by a plea to his left, making his head whip around instinctively of it's own volition at the sound. He squints through the haze and distinguishes a figure, practically screaming at him now. Fuck. He has to find Freddie and get the fuck out. He looks between the ferris wheel and the figure a few times, caught in a moral dilemma. "Agh fuck!" He groans, exasperated as he hurries through the smoke towards Bianca. "What? What do you need?"

[drkeminity]

Bianca exhaled, slow and steady, forcing herself to focus on the plate in front of her instead of the tightness in her throat. The weight of the night of the carnival pressed against her, heavy and unrelenting, but she refused to let it pull her under—not here, not now. Not when Elias was looking at her like that, like he actually saw her.

She picked up her fork, took a bite, chewing with careful precision before swallowing. The silence stretched, thick with everything unspoken, until she finally nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching up in something that almost resembled amusement.

"Tequila," she said, voice even, but there was a rawness beneath it, a thread of something brittle she couldn’t quite swallow down. "Lots and lots of tequila."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, something knowing flickering in the depths of her dark eyes. She wouldn’t say it—not out loud—but she was grateful. For the food. For the quiet. For the simple fact that she wasn’t sitting in an empty apartment, alone with the echoes of her own thoughts.

"Unless you’re planning on being the responsible one tonight," she added, arching a brow, "in which case, I’ll take your share too."

@drkeminity

LOCATION: elias' place, late night. FOR: bianca de la cruz.

FOLLOWING THE EXPLOSION, ELIAS had initially prepared for a fight. he needed to make sure all of his friends were alive and safe. while he and freddie may not have been able to go home together, they had connected. at least they knew they were both alive. then there's bianca, who he had certainly been unafraid to show how worried he was. that she mattered. it was something that he knew many of the people around him were uncapable of doing -- realizing that they were human. elias knew when to turn it off, but at least he could aknowledge it. that he was a living breathing person, and there were people he loved who could have died. he knew deep down neither of them wanted to be alone tonight, therefore, he had offered to make them something to eat. if anything, at least a moment to bring them back down to earth. he had made an easy but well-thought out set-up, even if his kitchen looked like a bomb went off in there. " here we go. " he smiles gently, placing the plate down in front of her while his own is not nearby. " you want something to drink? alcoholic or non-alcoholic options are available. "

[drkeminity]

Bianca didn’t waste time on pleasantries. The girl in her arms was still breathing, but barely, and that was all that mattered.

“Take her,” she ordered, stepping forward and pressing the child into his arms before he could hesitate. Her grip was firm, deliberate, ensuring he had her securely before pulling back. “She’s alive, but she’s hurt. Gash on the head, inhaling too much smoke.” Her voice was cool, level—but there was something beneath it, something sharp-edged and urgent. “Find someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.”

The child let out a soft, pained whimper as she was shifted, and Bianca’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t let herself falter. She couldn’t.

Her gaze flickered up, locking onto Fatih’s, assessing in an instant whether or not she could trust him with this. He didn’t look like a hero, didn’t move like someone who had planned on jumping into the fire tonight. But he’d stopped. He’d asked what he could do.

That was enough.

“I need to keep moving,” she added, already turning away. “There are more.” She didn’t wait for a response. If he was worth a damn, he’d do what needed to be done.

And if he didn’t?

She’d find him.

Fatih's head was spinning. In every direction that he turned there was screaming, fire, and the distant whines of the injured. Without the twinkling of lamp posts and fairy lights, surrounded by nothing but people running and darkness, he has to take a moment to collect himself. After alerting his handler that he was okay after they'd called him, panicked by Stella's condition, and worried that his cover might be blown if he acted in accordance to his morals, he'd tried to make his way from the chaos, reluctantly ignoring the first call of a voice that commands him to listen.

But through the darkness, Fatih's head snaps toward her next words, dark eyes meet her's and his entire demeanour shifts. From where he stood, his stomach churns in nausea as the still body of a little girl comes into view. "What can I do?" The bartender asks, slow on approach as if his brain was trying to prepare him for the worst case scenario.

[drkeminity]

“You got a real poetic way of dodgin’ a straight answer, y’know that?” he drawled, flickin’ his gaze back to Sebastian with that same sharp-edged smirk. “Must be all that writin’—makin’ everythin’ sound real pretty.”

Leanin’ his elbows against the counter, Hero gave him a once-over, half amused, half curious. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a good pretzel, I’ll give you that,” he mused, “but the ferris wheel? Now that’s where you lose me. Whole thing creaks like it’s holdin’ on for dear life. Hell of a place to take a date—unless you’re hopin’ the thrill of near death works in your favor.”

As for the question thrown his way, Hero exhaled through his nose, rollin’ the toothpick between his teeth. “Long as I feel like,” he shrugged. His smirk turned easy, lazy. “But hell, maybe I’ll free myself up soon. Ain’t no fun watchin’ everybody else stir up trouble while I’m over here handin’ out candy like a damn babysitter.”

There was a lot Sebastian was looking forward to tonight, most things taking place long after the carnival shuts down for the night. For now his focus was temporarily on snacks, something that’d pair well with the spiked beverage in his hand. As he approached the cotton candy booth Sebastian could feel a presence looming over him, though he wasn’t able to put his finger on it until he spoke.

“I’ve been around, but I can’t deny the appeal of traveling elsewhere to write.” He shrugged, though Seb had been staying put for the time being. “Cotton candy has never really been my thing, too sweet. My dreams consist more of pretzels and meeting my date on the ferris wheel.” He smirked, hoping that his day would soon take a turn from its current pg rating. “How long are you stuck working that thing?”

[drkeminity]

His smirk curled at the edges, sharp as a blade, as he took a slow step toward her, closin’ the space she’d left between them. His fingers drummed against the wood of his cue, his other hand reachin’ for his glass, but his gaze? That stayed locked on her, steady and unreadable.

“Full obedience?” He let the words roll off his tongue, tasting ‘em, sittin’ with ‘em for a moment like he was actually considerin’ the deal. “Now, that’s a dangerous little bet, darlin’. Either you got a real high opinion of your game, or you’re just itchin’ to see me do whatever it is you got rattlin’ around in that pretty little head of yours.” He took a slow sip of his drink, lettin’ the burn settle in his chest before settin’ the glass back down with a quiet clink.

Then he smirked—lazy, confident, full of trouble.

“Ain’t nothin’ about me that’s built for surrender, sweetheart. But hell, I do love a challenge.” He tilted his head, runnin’ his tongue over the edge of his teeth like he was savorin’ the anticipation. “So, you got yourself a deal. But just remember—you’re the one who set the stakes, and I ain’t the kind to go easy.”

He took his shot, smooth and precise, sendin’ another ball into the pocket with a satisfying thunk. Straightenin’ up, he gave her a slow, deliberate once-over before meetin’ her gaze again, the heat in his blue eyes damn near tangible.

“So tell me, Billie,” he mused, cue stick balanced easy between his fingers. “When you lose… you ready to play by my rules?”

billie let out a low hum, the sound dripping with amusement as she leaned against her cue stick, watching him with that same sharp, knowing glint in her eyes. “somethin’ else, huh?” she echoed, rolling the words over her tongue like she was savoring the taste of them. “now that’s a dangerous little proposition, cowboy.” her smirk curled at the edges, teasing but unreadable. hero had game — she’d give him that. the confidence, the smooth execution, the easy swagger. but she’d been in enough of these matchups to know that confidence was a fickle thing. one wrong shot, one shift in momentum, and all that charm could turn to frustration real quick. pushing off the table, she stepped closer, letting the space between them shrink just enough to make it interesting. she reached past him, slow and deliberate, to grab her drink, her fingers brushing against the glass with unhurried ease. “i like a good wager.” she took a sip, gaze never leaving his. “but let’s not waste it on somethin’ as simple as a round of drinks.” she set the glass down with a quiet clink, tapping her nails against the rim before tilting her head. “loser…” she let the word hang, letting the weight of it settle between them before she finally smirked. “does whatever the winner wants. no arguments, no backing out. full obedience.” she let it hang between them, letting the weight of it settle, the deliberate challenge clear as day. with a slow, measured step, she circled him again, the click of her heels against the worn floor adding to the anticipation. “think you can handle that?” her voice was silk and steel, teasing yet unwavering. she leaned back against the table, picking up her drink and taking her time with a sip before flashing him a knowing look. “or is the thought of surrenderin’ already makin’ you nervous?”

[drkeminity]

Hero released a low, guttural chuckle, the sound edged with raw need as his fingers traced the gentle dip of her spine, pulling her firmly against him. "That so?" he murmured, his voice thick, laden with something deeper, something primal. His lips hovered near the curve of her ear, the warmth of his breath teasing before trailing lower, leaving deliberate, burning kisses along the exposed column of her neck.

His hands, though unhurried, carried a palpable urgency—an insatiable hunger he had been forced to temper for far too long. Two weeks of restraint, of skirting the edge of control, of pretending patience was within his reach. The notion felt almost ridiculous now, with the way she softened against him, with the way her breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, grazing the smooth expanse of her abdomen with featherlight precision.

"You’re right, sugar," he drawled, his voice a slow pour of molasses, thick with intent. "I reckon I got a real good idea of how to warm you up."

He took her hand then, his calloused fingers curling over hers, guiding her downward—pressing himself closer from behind so she could feel the full extent of his need. "Let’s see if you remember those lessons of ours, hmm?" he rasped, his lips curling against the sensitive skin of her neck. His teeth dragged over her pulse point, just enough to send a tremor through her, just enough to remind her that patience had never been his virtue.

No, tonight, there would be no holding back. Not when she was here, in his space, in his hands, exactly where she was meant to be.

Because he needed her.

They made it out. Kinny didn’t mind leaving the even early, not when she was going home with Hero. Two painful weeks of bliss and yet neither of them can hold out a second longer. She need d him. Needed to feel him close. To make love with him again.

He was her first and she knew some day, hopefully now, he would be her last too. Because at the end of the day no one compared. There was no one else.

“Trust me, I don’t mind. You helped me move and have seen the state of that mess already,” she said with a soft smile as she held onto him as they moved throughout the space.

Kinny let him remove her coat, the feel of his fingers lingering over her bare skin sent anticipation right down to her core, she only hoped that wouldn’t be the only article of clothing he would be removing off her tonight. She came prepared, and what lied under her clothes was just for him.

She took in a deep breath, taking his scent in. Everything about him sent her in a frenzy. “I’m still a little cold. But I think you know how to fix that.”

[drkeminity]

Hero exhaled slow, dragging a hand down his face as he stepped further into the room. Guilt was a weight sittin’ heavy on his chest—he shoulda been there, shoulda known sooner. But he’d been wrapped up in his own damn world, while all this hell broke loose.

“Yeah, ‘course I came,” he said, voice quieter than usual, scratchin’ at the back of his neck. “Didn’t hear ‘bout the fire ‘til after. Should’ve been here sooner.” He shook his head, blue eyes flickering over Zak, taking him in—tired, but happy. Real damn happy.

Hero let out a breath, some of that tension loosening at the mention of the babies. “That’s good, man. Real good,” he murmured, a slow, genuine smile breaking through the regret. “Hell, a little early, a little small—don’t matter. Sounds like they already got that fight in ‘em.”

At Zak’s offer, Hero hesitated for just a second before nodding. “Yeah, I wanna see ‘em.” His voice was softer now, almost reverent, like he was steppin’ into something bigger than himself. “Reckon it ain’t every day you meet a couple’a brand-new badasses.” His gaze flicked back to Zak, smirk twitchin’ at the corner of his mouth, but the sincerity was there, clear as day. “Lead the way, man.”

Location: St. John's Hospital Status: Open @sinnerssquarestart

"Hey, thanks for coming." Zak greeted them with a smile. "How are you holding up?" The events of last night were not favorable, "The babies are okay, they are a little early, a bit small but they are doing good." He said with a smile, he felt bad for being so happy right now, everyone else was suffering and this was the greatest night of his life in some aspects. "Do you wanna see them?"

[drkeminity]

“ If there’s one thing I know about men who think they’re bigger than the world they’re tryin’ to control, it’s that they never really know when to shut the hell up and stay gone.” Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a sharpness beneath it, an edge honed from years of watching power-hungry fools tear each other apart.

She leaned against the bar, posture effortless as ever, but there was an unmistakable glint in her dark eyes—something amused, something intrigued. “But honestly, should we be surprised? It’s almost adorable how predictable these types are. Like clockwork. Think they’re orchestrating some grand spectacle when really, it’s just another tired act.” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “Same script, usual different fool.”

Her gaze flickered toward Ludovica’s martini, then back up at her. “Tell me, sweetheart—are we drinking to the headache this is about to become? Or to the fact that we both know how this ends?” A pause, head tilting ever so slightly. “Because I don’t know about you, but I plan on enjoying the show. Some men just love to be their own worst enemy… and far be it from me to stop ‘em.”

@drkeminity

LOCATION: high note. FOR: victoria london.

THE LAST THING LUDOVICA liked was a lack of control. and not just sexually. however, there was a distinct lack of it within the aftermath of explosion. this supposed giovanni wanted them to be at war with each other -- didn't they? then, why was it that this... person couldn't leave them well enough alone? leave the serpents to their inivtable conqour of the rest of new york? he got what he wanted. and yet -- the brunette couldn't help but rack her mind for what else there possibly could be. she knew her hands were far from clean. in fact, she'd happily get them bloodier if the society and the ghost riders could even collect themselves. for now, she'll go about her life as normal. run her club, listen to the beautiful voice of her sparkling dimond. or indulge in a drink, as the night is over. martini glass in hand, her eyes turn to the other woman. " just when we thought it was over.. this fuck makes a grand reentrance. " ludovica sighs, taking a sip before placing her drink on the marble bartop. " sleeping dogs just can't lie, can they? "

[drkeminity]

Victoria, ever the vision of poise even in a hospital room, leaned forward in her chair, resting her chin in her palm as a slow, teasing smirk spread across her lips. “Long enough to confirm you’re still among the living,” she drawled, eyes flicking over Stella like she was assessing damage, though the warmth beneath the jest was unmistakable. “Figured I’d stick around, make sure you didn’t wake up alone. Also, I do love a dramatic hospital entrance, but you kinda robbed me of that opportunity by already being unconscious when I got here.”

She let out a slow sigh, shaking her head in faux disappointment. “Truly, selfish of you.”

But despite the playful edge to her words, concern lingered in her dark eyes. Victoria wasn’t one for hovering—she left that to the handwringers of the world—but she also wasn’t one to let the people she cared about go through things alone.

She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, voice softening just a little. “You gave us a hell of a scare, sugar. Next time you wanna pull a stunt like this, at least let me coordinate an outfit first. Nothing worse than a hospital gown stealing all your dignity.”

A beat.

“How you feelin’?” It was casual, but the weight of the question sat between them—genuine, unspoken worry wrapped in silk.

status: open @sinnerssquarestart (3/4)

location: the New York Hospital

Stella opens her eyes a crack, allowing a sliver of harsh white light creep into the corners of her vision. It's a war to keep them from shutting again, the soothing blanket of sleep urging her to slip under once more. Just an extra five minutes. The thought wraps around her consciousness like a hug. She persists, squinting against the contrasting brightness. A machine beeps in her periphery and memories come back to her in pieces. The fall. The fire. But most notably, the pain. She must be in hospital she understands then, and the whiteness makes way for more colour. The blue of a curtain to her left. The silver metal of her bed railing, just out of reach. The worn, brown leather of the visitors chair, containing a figure, now sitting upright in front of her. "How... how long have you been there?" She croaks, a much more worrying thought following. How long have I been here?

[drkeminity]

Victoria clicked her tongue as she leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, one perfectly sculpted brow arching as she took in the sorry state of the man currently trying (and failing) to escape his hospital bed. “Now, sweetheart, I know stubborn’s a personality trait for you, but I didn’t realize you were tryna make it a full-time career,” she teased, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering toward him, dark eyes flicking over his pale complexion and the telltale wobble in his stance.

She reached out, pressing a steadying hand to his shoulder before he could do something real dumb—like face-plant onto the floor. “What, you think you’re just gonna waltz on outta here like you didn’t get your head knocked sideways?” She sighed, shaking her head as if he were the biggest headache she’d had to deal with all day. “And here I thought you were the smart one.”

Her smirk softened just a little, but concern flickered beneath it. “Can’t have a member of the fan club witherin’ away ‘cause of his own damn stubbornness. What kinda message would that send to the others?” She gave his shoulder a light squeeze before tapping her fingers against his temple—gently, but pointedly. “Now sit your ass down before I have to do it for you. I’d hate to embarrass you in front of all these nice medical professionals.”

A pause, her voice dropping just a touch, still playful but with something more serious beneath it. “You know you’re allowed to let people take care of you, right?”

St. John's Hospital open. @sinnerssquarestart

The loud ringing in his ears, the throbbing beat of his temple, the sharp pain of light against his sensitive retinas - Willem recognized all the symptoms of a concussion, from studying it extensively during medical school to experiencing it on a semi-regular basis, ever since he joined the Ghost Riders. It was nothing new, and yet the restless agitation, his own barely suppressed panic at being kept in bed when he didn't know how any of his family, his friends were doing, made the entire experience almost surreal, an out-of-body experience he couldn't escape from.

"I told you-" An uncharacteristic snap to his voice, as he addressed the person who had just entered his room, his blurry vision telling him it was probably a nurse or a doctor. "-I'm fine. I don't need to be admitted for observation-" He spoke while struggling to extricate himself from the sheets, his entire body unconsciously listing to the side as he attempted to stand.

Willem screwed up his expression in a poor attempt to hide his growing nausea. "-I'm fine."

[drkeminity]

Victoria’s smirk softened just a fraction, amusement still lingering in the curve of her lips, but something knowing flickering beneath it. “Well, damn. Here I was, thinkin’ I was about to solve all your problems with a questionable carnival corn dog, and turns out you just need a high five? Easy fix, sugar.”

She raised her hand, waiting just long enough to build the moment before delivering an exaggeratedly firm clap against his palm. “There. Consider yourself emotionally supported. That was a premium high five, by the way—none of that half-hearted, limp-fish nonsense.”

Letting her hand fall back to her hip, she tilted her head, there was something warmer in her gaze, unspoken understanding beneath all the teasing. She wasn’t about to dig where he didn’t want her to, but she sure as hell wasn’t about to pretend she didn’t see the weight sitting behind his words either.

“Until then,” she continued breezily, linking her arm through his and steering him toward the nearest food stall, “you’re gonna drink somethin’ sugary and pretend I’m not the best damn company you could’ve asked for tonight.”

Fatih merely rolls his eyes, his lips curling in a similar fashion to Victoria's; in fondness and amusement. Out of all the people in New York that he could've been forced to spend this day with, he was glad that it had been someone who felt lively enough to make all of his negative feelings disperse. "Missing people sounds like a drag." He teases, grinning now "- glad that it's never happened to me." His next words fall silent on his lips, his face turning into a feigned mixture of shock and complete horror. "You're right, that is life altering and you definitely should've kept it to yourself. Childhood fantasies ruined - there is no more light in my world." A dramatic sigh echoes, playful, sarcastic but he grins when asked about his blood sugar. "Food normally means insulin, insulin helps lower blood sugar, therefore, orange juice will do the trick but fruit punch is less offensive." He drops the facade now, conceding to the real reason for his sullen look. "I...saw a kid with her parents. It reminded me of the life I used to live. No juice or food necessary. Might need an emotional support high five for not bursting into ugly man tears though."