#Hangnails and Infections

[herespaaa]

Top-most Advantages of Getting Nail care for Seniors at Home

Senior family members may not require the newest nail polish colors every week, but that doesn't imply that they don’t need or want a manicure or pedicure. Elderly persons often suffer various types of nail problems as they age. Toenails, in particular, are subjected to a great deal of stress because they are frequently linked to a variety of health issues. Consider nail care at home especially if your older family member has difficulty with some personal care duties. Taking care of her nails, in particular, is critical to her entire well-being, self-esteem, and health.

You may contact a trusted service provider who offers nail care for seniors right at home and any other places at the most competitive prices.

Let’s decode how taking nail care services at home can benefit seniors

Necessary Nail Care Services at Home

If your older relative lacks mobility, flexibility, or other difficulties, caring for her nails is really important. Ignoring this personal care chore is not an option. Nail care is more than simply a spa treatment; it can also have health repercussions. Taking proper or specific nail care at home makes it easier for elders to trim their nails or get the required nail care service at ease.

Avoid Health Risks with Proper Nail Care

Toe and fingernails that are overly long, damaged, or have hangnails may lead to other problems. When it comes to toes, senior persons may find it difficult or painful to wear shoes. Hangnails on feet can easily develop infection and if the elderly person isn't aware, it can be a significant health risk. Too short nails are also problematic because they can leave unprotected sores that are vulnerable to infection. Nail care technicians can come to the homes of elderly persons and offer them necessary nail care services.

Transportation Can Be Easier

As your senior ages, it might not be as easy as it once was for her to go to a salon or spa or elsewhere for personal care services. Manicures and pedicures at home allow her to stay in the comfort of her own home without having to worry about getting transportation. She still receives the necessary nail maintenance and therapy, but without being inconvenienced in any way.

Home Nail Care Improves Overall Well-Being

Knowing that the requirements are being met is extremely beneficial to the senior's self-esteem. But it's also necessary for her to feel well and be taken care of. Having manicures and pedicures done at home allows her to feel pampered and comfortable. This can provide her with peace which is essential for emotional well-being. She is also able to unwind and enjoy the experience.

Personal care duties, such as nail care, are simple to overlook until they become too tough to manage. Having the option of getting nail care for seniors right at home by experienced nail care technicians might be an excellent approach.

Final Words

HereSpa is your one-stop solution for finding all types of nail care services for elders at home. We also offer other beauty care services at home or at any place and any time. We have experienced and compassionate nail care technicians and beauty care specialists. Our prices are affordable and we are dedicated to offering highly satisfactory services to our clients. You can browse our website to discover our list of nail care services.

Visit our website to discover more about our at-home nail care services. Or, call us to book an appointment.

[charmfamily]

THE HYPNAGOGIC:HOUR PODCAST. EPISODE 59, "SPECIAL BREAKING NEWS REPORT" JULY 11, 2023. (PART 1)

Transcript Below. Listen to the Intro Music if you like HERE

ERWIN: WwwWwwWelcome back to the fifth dimension conspiracists, it’s not another Monday at Midnight when you’re joining us, it’s Tuesday now, but we’re coming to you live and on-location from our investigation in Moonwood Mill for a very special breaking news report. For this excursion into the Valley of the Uncanny, we ask that you bust out a few cloves of garlic, prepare your colloidal silver spray, as always, don your finest Anti-Mind Tampering gear, but most importantly, don’t forget to familiarize yourself with a little helpful spell called Lumina Sol, it gets uncomfortably dangerous in the darker corners of our realm during the Hypnagogic Hour. I’m your host, Erwin Pries– 

DYLAN: And for everybody out there joining us for the first time, I’m your co-host, Dylan Sigworth. We uh, we don’t have an ad roll prepared for the top of the hour like we usually do, and no, the “powers that be” over at PowerSip have not yet emailed Erwin back about that coveted sponsorship, so we’re just gonna get right into it and jump straight into the update. There’s been a lot of unexpected happenings in the past 24 – 25? 26? hours: so many that it still feels a little surreal, to be honest. 

ERWIN: Confirmed, first-hand evidence of The Hall of Arcane Knowledge using their Task Forces to conduct illegal memory searches on potential witnesses with no warrant, discovering that the werewolves in this town are secretly hoarding thoroughly documented histories of the magical world’s most infamous warlock cabal after The Hall of Arcane Knowledge tried to completely scrub them from any and all records, finding out about the warlock cabal’s involvement in the Tunnel Murders, where they are in present day if my theory is correct, and we even found some physical evidence of what’s really going on around here that you know the Hall isn’t going to be forthcoming about to the public... Surprise surprise, it’s not an investigation on their part, it’s, you guessed it, a cover up. Yeah I’d say that’s a lot of happenings, we’ve been pretty busy. It’s been a long day, and to be honest, even I’m a little confused on where to start here ‘cause there’s so much.

[autistickaitovocaloid]

I need to remember to use the toys and shit I have because if left unchecked the body related stims I end up doing range from relatively normal to kinda not good for me.

[monky]

Basically all morning routine videos feel slightly Patrick Bateman-esque but the state of straight men’s hygiene is in crisis when you see a bunch of twitter dudes flipping out over a guy washing and moisturizing his face in the morning and using a cuticle cream

[milo-is-rambling]

I have an infected hangnail rn and my finger is swollen and red and I can feel the heartbeat in my finger :(((

[newps]

what do i dooo

[fatnutswizard]

My mom just casually mentioned me being on the spectrum which is wild considering how vehemently she argued that i wasn't as a kid

[specialneedz]

bandaids look hot on me but not like this. not like this

[valtsv]

perhaps my most unrelatable quality is that i kind of enjoy getting very minor infected wounds. like piercing infections and adverse reactions to ripping out hangnails. because it's like lol you aren't even going to do anything except ooze and sting when i clean you out with salt and hot water. cope and seethe while you still can before my white blood cells find you.

[stxrborne]

PRECISION

|| Feitan x neutral! Reader ||

|| dt to @after-witch @ddarker-dreams @depravitycentral for inspiring me to finally get off my ass and write, and also for their amazing works ofc! check them out! ||

It’s ironic, Feitan thinks, to sew up the wounds of his victims. But they can’t die just yet.

His thin, long fingers push the needle through the victims skin of their inner thigh, and he gives out a light scoff in mockery when they whimper. Little rich boy can’t handle a little pain? He hates these rich types that think they can pull one over on the troupe. They were fun to interrogate, they always worked up his temper where taking it out on them was something he looked forward to. Due punishment, not only for their bratty, pretentious attitude, but their lucky pull in birth circumstances. Feitan acts as their comeuppance.

He’ll give it to this victim, however, still holding on to the information despite it all. Usually his male victims would start spilling whatever they knew when Feitan picked up a hammer and pushed their thighs apart. But here his victim was, crying and whimpering, and now a eunuch, and still not speaking.

Feitan finishes his stitches with a clean knot, and sets the needle and thread aside on his medical tool tables. He likes to pride himself in his efficiency and perfection. After all, torture required just as much knowledge of the human body as a surgeon. The image of Feitan as a doctor, in a different life, flashed in his mind and he laughed aloud. Maybe. Maybe if he was born lucky. Maybe if he didn’t have to learn surgery and amputations from the cruelty of his home.

After all, doctors can’t save everyone. And he didn’t see the point in willingly putting that responsibility and burden on yourself. Especially for ungrateful rich brats.

No, it was much easier to take life than to protect it. Much more fulfilling too. Other people aren’t your responsibility.

How funny though, Feitan thought. To now have something to willingly burden yourself with.

His ears pricked up to his victim shuffling in his chains, and he turned to them. The man wasn’t remarkable, only one person really was in Feitan’s eyes. The only thing noticeable now was the man’s family crest Feitan had carved on the skin above his heart.

How can you claim to belong to something, if you can’t even mark yourself with it? When you die, how will people know where you belonged to?

Feitan takes the man’s face in between his hand, and moves his head around to inspect his work. He debated between leaving the cut next to eye, dropping a few drops of an infectious bacteria into it so the eye would eventually eat itself. It’d take about a week, and then another for the infection to spread to the rest of the body.

Feitan couldn’t help but smile at the image. He gripped his victims face with his nails, and told him so.

“It’d be funny to see you swell up with blood and pus. I wonder if you’d get fat like an ugly cyst, but you already don’t look all that different from one.”

He let him go unceremoniously, and watched as his head fell forward. Feitan will grant him the mercy of sleep. After all, a dog will still endure abuse if you feed it often enough.

“Feitan?”

He heard you before you reached the basement door of course. He knew where you were in the house at all times after all.

You knew you weren’t allowed to open the door. If you needed him, just knock or call his name. You think it’s because he’d have to kill you if you saw what he was doing.

He knows that, and thinks you’re silly. He wipes his bloodied hands with a clean cloth as he walks to the door. His eyes meet yours when he opens the door, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he closes it. You don’t even know what color the walls of the basement are.

Feitan looks you over, with the same precision he gives to everything. You’ve been picking at your hangnails again and for some reason you didn’t bother bandaging your thumb, where you had ripped and tore at the skin enough for it to bleed. Another thing is that you’re wearing nothing but a towel, which means one thing.

“I want to take a bath,” you say, your clasped hands nervously squeezing themselves. It was another thing you weren’t allowed to do on your own. You didn’t understand why, and you didn’t understand why he did the things he did. He’d set the water the way you like it, even though you don’t remember telling him. He scents it with fragrances and oils that you can tell are expensive, in your favorite scents too. He helps you in and then holds out your towel so he doesn’t see your naked body, and he swiftly turns and closes the curtain. He does the same when you’re ready to come out.

He has a chair he sits on, quietly and unmoving as he watches your silhouette. Maybe it’s a kink or fetish of some kind, you think. It had taken you a while to get use to. But something tells you it wasn’t that exactly. One time you had slipped when washing your body, and before you could fully gasp out in surprise, you were in his arms with his face to the side.

He didn’t act the way you expected a kidnapper would. But it still didn’t explain why you were here at all.

Feitan nods at you, and you lead the way. You’ve learned he preferred to be your second shadow than to be your leading light.

Your large bathroom was attached to your equally large room. Funny how you’ve started to refer to them as ‘yours’. It’s difficult not to, when he is somehow able to let you decorate it the way you want. Feitan does that often, you’ve found. No matter how expensive your request, and you have tested that, he will get it for you. You’re scared to ask how.

He begins his routine when you both step into the bathroom. He gets the water to the temperature you like and let the bath tub fill. The sound of the tub jets fill the air, and you watch as he drips expensive oils into the water. His movements are methodical, and somehow he’s figured out the ratio of water to oil that’s right for your skin.

Feitan doesn’t dare mix the water with his hand.

Your nose is soon filled with the scent, and you feel your tense shoulders slowly let go and relax. He’s watching you, you know that. He stops the faucet when the tub fills up, and you walk up the small steps and stand in front of him.

A part of you is always tempted to touch. His pale skin is smooth and such a contrast to his dark hair. This close, you can see just a hint of green in his black eyes, the way they don’t seem to blink. You wonder if he is even human.

You nod softly and he moves behind you. You can’t even feel his presence, hear his breath, and you slightly jump when he reaches to gently clasp the small fold that holds your towel up.

Feitan waits until you calm again to continue. He never touches you directly, not even a stray touch from any finger. He takes off your towel and spreads it as a barrier between you and him.

But then you do something that has his heart beating and stopping erratically. His breath catches in his throat, your gaze turning to him and he feels trapped beneath it. How do you not know how much power you have over him?

His eyes instantly move to the way you nervously bite at your lip. Somehow he can know everything about you, how you think, how you word those thoughts, and yet now, he can’t believe what he thinks you’re going to say.

“…help me?” You say slowly, so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have heard you.

But you know he did. And you don’t drop your eyes from him.

Feitan, in return, lets the towel drop.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: growing worried about the degree of your nail biting habit, nico ignores the advice of his boyfriend and takes matters into his own hands.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nico di angelo x platonic!gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:: 1.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: a curse word i think, nail biting

Agitated was the only word to express how Nico Di Angelo felt, watching as you picked at the hangnail currently torturing you. The two of you were sitting in a mythos lesson at Camp Halfblood, but neither of you were listening. 

While you were focused on getting rid of this hangnail—biting off half your nail in the process—Nico gritted his teeth as he observed the horrible nervous habit of yours. Finally, he had enough, and swiped your wrist away from your face. 

His glare was firmly planted on your face. “Stop. You could get an infection that way.” He retreated into his seat beside you, slouching over. “Plus, its gotta hurt like a devil.”

You shrugged in reply as you tucked your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep them away from your mouth. “Eh. It does. Can’t help it though.”

“I know,” your best friend said through a sigh, a tiny grin sipping across his pale face.

“Besides, I won’t actually get an infection from biting my nails, Nico.”

His brows rose just slightly. “How do you know?”

“Because,” you snapped back, messing with your nails in the confines of your pocket now, waiting for when Nico was gone to finish evening them out. “That’s stupid.”

He scoffed and looked away. “Go ask Will, and he’ll tell you it’s not.”

“He’s biased.”

“How?”

It only took one look, one raise of your brows, and the boy’s pale face was flushed as he shoved your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you laugh, and the discussion was over. For now, at least. If anything, you’d only made Nico even more determined to prove you wrong.

He understood, of course. You really couldn’t help it. But he wanted to help you, at the very least, and if that meant scaring you into kicking the habit, so be it.

“Could you talk to them about it?” he asked—begged—Will. He was practically chasing his boyfriend around the infirmary, ranting about his deep rooted worry for their mutual friend. 

Will was being patient, or, he was really trying to be, but with the previous day’s Capture the Flag game gone awry, and every bed in the infirmary holding a whining little shit camper, Nico was really testing him.

“Nico,” Will finally said, leading him into the supply room and away from the gossiping ears of those around. “I’ll talk to them, but I think you should too.”

“I have been–”

“I mean talk to them and listen too.” Will silenced Nico with a look, pursing his lips as he chose the right words. “Have another conversation about it, okay?”

Nico wanted to ask again, but anytime he brought it up, you just shut down and found an excuse to leave.  Weeks went by, and Nico’s worry got the better of him. He decided to take matters into his own hands, much to the exhaustion of Will.

Coming out of the shadows, Nico entered into the throne room of Hades. The place was dim, torches alighting the walls just enough for him to make out the pillars and, most importantly, the three thorns at the end of the ling chamber.

Each throne was empty, but someone was there. He felt them, their presence, somewhere nearby. Scanning the area, Nico zeroed in on the archway leading out to the palace gardens, where all the beloved plants of the Queen were grown. Bingo.

Nico slinked outside, setting eyes on a pallidly beautiful woman tending to a patch of black roses. Her back was to him, but instantly, she rose from her knees and turned, her gaze burning into him with a malice.

Nico halted a few feet from her, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets and his hair falling into his face. “Hey.”

Persephone looked down her nose at him. “Bastard son.” A subtle smile settled on her face. “About time you came home.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t had time, you know? Anyway, is Dad around?”

With a light scoff the Queen of the Underworld twirled her hand, sending black roots to wrap around Nico’s ankles. “No time for your stepmother? Typical. I give you and that nice Apollo boy gifts every birthday, and this is the thanks I get?”

Nico chuckled as he shook the roots off and said, “Sorry, I just have something really important I need from him.” 

“Fine,” Persephone snapped. “Hades!”

A moment later Nico’s father stepped out of the shadows, frustration seeping off of him. He gritted out, “Yes, my love?”

Persephone pointed to Nico, who waved weakly when his father’s eyes found him. “Oh. Hello, boy. What do you need?”

Nico looked out of the garden, and in the distance he could see the Fields of Asphodel. “How many people have died from biting their nails?”

“Honestly,” said Hades as he and his son approached the fields, shades parting for them as they went. “To think I can just tell you off the top of my head is ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many have died?”

Nico gave him a look. “Are you going to tell me?”

“No, because it’s impossible,” snapped Hades. “You can have your look around. Surely someone fits your description.”

Nico raised his brows. “No way I’m doing this alone. You see how big this place is?”

Sighing, Hades gave his son a withered look, before bellowed, “Come forth those who have died of... What was it?”

“Nail biting.”

Hades paused, questioned his immortal life choices, and continued, “Those who have died of nail biting!”

To Nico’s surprise, around thirty shades stepped forward. Hades stuck around for the time being, having the shades stand in single file as Nico interviewed them one by one.

By the time Hades grew bored and his departure inspired the scattering of the shades, Nico had what he needed, and promptly dragged a ghost to the Overworld.

“Brooklynn,” he called for you, walking into the Big House where you’d been filing papers for Chiron--for a price, of course. This wasn’t free labour.

You smiled at him. “Sup.”

Nico was nervous about something, you noticed quickly, abandoning your work for a moment to see why he was fidgeting with the end of his jacket. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” he assured. “I just had something to show you.”

As you stood there waiting, Nico called out for someone, but instead of entering through the door, they just materialized out of thin air. Startled, you simply looked from the shade to your best friend. “Who’s this?”

“Oh,” Nico blanked. “I never asked.”

“I–I’m Jim, Your Highness” said the terrified shade. 

Nico nodded. “Right, this is Jim.”

Confused beyond all else, you screwed your brows together and just stared at him. “Nico, what is this?”

“An intervention,” he put simply, turning on the shade with shary eyes. “Jim, tell Y/N why you’re dead.”

“Nico!” you seethed.

The shade—Jim—shook his head hurriedly. “No, it’s no trouble, Your Highness. I–well, I–I died of a heart attack.”

Impatient, Nico waved him on. “Caused by…”

“Oh, uhm, it was septicemia.” At my puzzled look, Jim elaborated. “A blood infection.”

Nico still wasn’t satisfied, rolling his eyes and urging, “And how’d you get it, Jim?”

The gloomy shade glanced down at his hands, holding them up and saying, “Well, I had a nervous habit. Bit my nails down to the nub every day. I guess I caught something ‘cause of the constant open wounds.”

Now it all made sense. With your eyes locked on the shade, you became conscious that you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb as you stood there, peeling away skin and opening a fresh cut. “Oh.”

“See,” said Nico cheerfully, trying to clap Jim on the back, but his hand only passed through the shade. “Told you. You can die from biting your nails.”

The longer you said nothing, and the longer you stared into space, the more uncomfortable Nico got. He glanced over and locked eyes with Jim, who offered a shrug in reply. Nico sighed. “You’re dismissed.”

And the shade faded as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving only Nico and you. He rocked on his heels, watching you carefully. “Y/N?”

As his hand reache dout to poke you back to life, you swatted him away and did just that, but you weren’t as grateful as Nico had hoped you’d be. Instead, your eyes were narrowed and your fists were tight at your sides. “Nico, what the fuck?”

“I–” he stammered. “I thought this would help. Motivation to stop…”

“It didn’t,” you snapped, voice cracking. Nico’s breath hitched; your eyes were red and your chin shook. What had he done wrong?

“I… I don’t get it.”

You held up your hand, littered in Bluey bandaids fresh from Will’s kit. “I can’t stop, Nico. I’ve tried.”

Try harder, he thought, but didn’t say. “I–I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.”

“Helping would be leaving me alone,” you said slowly, swallowing thickly. 

Now, Nico wasn’t great at this comfort thing, but he knew one thing for certain: leaving was mostly never the right call. Will had taught him that. Talk to them and listen too. “Y/N, I really am sorry.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, shame crawling up your neck as you hid your hands in your hoodie pockets. “Yeah, I know. I know. Just… leave it, okay?”

“Okay…”

He didn’t bring it up again. He was always too scared of hurting you to do that. Instead, he listened, and watched for when your fingers were particularly more wounded than usual. 

Nico made sure there was always a fun box of bandaids in your cabin, and he knew the Paw Patrol and Strawberry Shortcake ones were your favorite. You were never out of neosporin, and new shades of nail polish showed up on your nightstand every once in a while. 

And though you never said anything about it, you were grateful, and you liked how he smiled when you painted your nails and got them to grow out a bit before it chipped away and the cycle restarted. 

Occasionally, a joke about a man named Jim will come up, first by you of course, and Nico could only stand locking eyes with you for two seconds before he keeled over laughing. No one else understands, and neither of you care to explain.

[fairy-writes]

Could you write about Dazai Osamu with an s/o who feels insecure about their relationship and starts to get cold feet because they don't want to confront him about it? If you do thank you so so so much in advance i love your writing

WARM BROWN EYES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Gender Neutral!Reader

Notes: This is the same reader as in my “Handsome Stranger” oneshot. However, you only need to know that the reader is a doctor. 

ALSO, HEADCANONS BC I CAN’T FOCUS

__________________________________________________________________________

You knew you shouldn’t have been nervous. 

But when it came to Dazai Osamu, he made your heart flutter. 

It was also a new relationship, so why wouldn’t you be nervous?

Once Osamu had been rescued by the man you now knew as Kunikida Doppo, you were quickly taken in as a sort of second doctor.

You didn’t have an ability. You were an average doctor trying to work off some of your father’s debt. 

Most of the Agency’s injuries went to Doctor Yosano Akiko, but they all fell to you when she was unavailable.

Anything from stitches to gauze to hangnails, you did anything but major surgeries. Hell, you even pulled an infected tooth from Nakajima Atsushi at one point. 

The one person you refused to treat was Osamu. 

You claimed it was because of a doctor-patient conflict (which it was in part), but in reality, you just didn’t want to see him hurt.

You had implored your new lover to stay safe, and to your surprise, he listened. 

Part of you was glad, happy even, but the other part of you was still concerned about this uneasy feeling you had in your stomach. 

You discovered it was insecurity three days after asking Doctor Yosano about it. 

“You’re insecure about your relationship. Just talk to Dazai about it. I’m sure he’ll understand.” She had said, and you immediately panicked. 

Talk to Osamu about your issues? Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

He wasn’t one to open up often, but when he did, it was about Oda and Ango and his past in the Port Mafia. 

It had taken a long time for you to get to this point which is why you felt so stupid for feeling so insecure about your entire relationship. 

Yosano talks you into talking to Osamu the next day. 

It’s about an hour after everyone has left for the day. Even Kunikida left on time which was a miracle in and of itself. Typically he was one to stay behind to finish up paperwork.

Anyway, back to Osamu.

He stood before you, hands in his pockets, watching you expectantly. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked, and you stiffened, staring stubbornly at your fingers as you tried to come up with the words. 

But how could you?

How could you voice your feelings that you still hadn’t even figured out yet?

“I—I don’t know. Just don’t worry about it. Sorry for wasting your time.” You mumble and turn to leave before he catches your wrist. 

“Now, now, are those little thoughts running around in your head again?” Osamu says with a playful little grin. 

You find yourself smiling and turning back to your lover. His smile warms, and his eyes glitter that comforting brown you had come to love. 

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” You say, and his grin widens, 

“About what?” You shrug,

“Nothing. Let’s just go home, yeah?”

Why were you insecure in the first place?

You couldn’t remember.

All you remembered was that Osamu loved you, and you loved him back. 

[oh-valentine]

Sanuso hand headcanons

-THEY LOVE HOLDING HANDS<33

-I mean Usopp isn’t big on pda so they often settled for handholding but now they love it. Like they just adore being able squeeze when the other needs it

-Usopp will grab Sanjis hand when he’s spooked or having a rough time and Sanji will give him a gentle squeeze of reinsurance.

-Sanji likes to grab Usopp wrist not only cause it’s easier on the height difference but he like to be able to check Usopps pulse, being able to feel that the other is alive.

-They are also cold hands vs warm hands duo TwT Sanji uses Usopp as a personal heater and WILL stick his hands up Usopp shirt to startle him

-Sanjis hands are long and skinny like the rest of him. his nails are rounded and well kept , he’ll put clear polish on them cause he likes that subtle femininity.

-Usopps hands are smaller and square he has wide flat nails that he keeps painted, typically green or some other dark shade and he has freckles <3

-Usopp “use to” pick at his nails when he was stressed and have horrible hangnails but Nami painted his nails once (for a price) and now he settles for picking the nail polish off.

-Usopp makes Sanji paint his nails now cause Nami charges too much and Sanjis better at it (the later is just an excuse, so he can hold hands and spend time with his boyfriend)

-These two are both incredibly busy with their hands all the time but they handle it in different ways

-Sanjis hands are always clean and he keeps really good care of them daily lotion, nail care, etc

- Ussop is the worst at keeping his hands nice, he always has grease or something sticky on him, he’s got tons of hand scars from just existing. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t got infected in one of the many cuts he has, chopper tries to make him wear bandaids, but Ussop always whines about how they hurt when he takes them off.

- My man has major calluses, on his fingertips and palms, and I mean he kinda has to have tough hands cause of his sling shot, but sanji always teases him about his tuff manly hands

Like they are literally this meme

I love them so much

[ninebluehearts]

It's Complicated.

Warnings: Angst. Joel denying his fatherly bond, basically. Female reader.

Summary: Getting to Tommy’s was the easy part. Making sure you all left Tommy’s in one piece? That’s where it got tricky...

A/n: This is based on episode 6 🥲

--------------------------------------------------

Joel had been acting strange ever since you all arrived at the commune; barely acknowledging you or Ellie, staring off into the distance for long periods of time, never really talking- which he didn’t do much of before, but this was different.

Even now, you were both sitting around the fire together with a random group of people, your head resting against Joel’s shoulder as you listened to a man who was sitting opposite you tell a story about the first time he saw an infected, and Joel was just sitting there, starring at the fire. It’s like he was physically here, but mentally? You had no idea where he was. 

You’ve tried all throughout the day to talk to him, asking him if he was alright, and every time he would either simply nod or say he was fine. It bothered you so much that you knew something was wrong and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You tried to reassure yourself that maybe he was just tired. After all, it had been one hell of a trip and he wanted to leave again tomorrow. Plus, you were all in dire need of a good night’s rest anyways. One where you and Joel didn’t have to take turns being on lookout throughout the night. 

You slipped your hand into Joel’s, gently squeezing it twice to pull him from his thoughts.

He let out a quiet grunt in response, his eyes slowly pulling away from the fire to look at you, a deep frown weighing heavily from his features. You knew that look well; the one he made when he made a tough decision.

“Wanna go to bed? We’ve gotta be up early in the morning. I’m sure Ellie’s already out like a light.” As if to prove your point, a long yawn forced itself out as you let out a soft laugh. 

“Yeah, but I’ve gotta see Tommy real quick. Forgot somethin’. Meet you up there?”

“Sure thing.” You leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before standing up to say your goodnights and then making your way back to the small house you were all temporarily staying in. Once you were a good few feet away, you glanced over your shoulder, taking note that Joel wasn’t there anymore. "That was quick." You mumbled to yourself.

Once you made it back to the house, you made sure to be as quiet as possible in case Ellie actually was sleeping. You hung up your coat and slipped off your shoes, sighing in relief when your feet could finally breathe. You headed upstairs and down the hall, gently knocking on Ellie’s door before slowly pushing it open. “Hey kiddo. Are you up?” 

Ellie lowered her book with a sigh. “Yeah, come on in.”

Once given the okay, you fully stepped into the room, immediately noticing the lack of Ellie Themed decorations. “Ya know, when we come back we’re gonna have to spruce this place up a bit. Really make it your own.” You sat on the edge of her bed, reaching over to pick up the comic book she had been reading earlier and gently tossing it onto her nightstand. “How come you’re not asleep? I figured you’d be knocked out by now.”

Ellie shrugged, setting down her book and leaning back against the wall of her window seat, her arms crossing over her chest. Something was off with Ellie too. You felt completely oblivious; like you were missing something that was so obvious.

You slowly nodded, “Well, you’d better enjoy sleeping in an actual bed while you still can. Were gonna be right back to camping tomorrow night.” You smiled as Ellie let out a loud groan, dropping her face in her hands.

Ellie turned to sit on the edge of the seat, focusing on picking at a hangnail. Something she did when she was nervous, you noticed. “It’s gonna be fine, right? Like, they’re gonna be able to make the vaccine? I would hate to come all this way just for this to mean nothing.” She said as she tapped her forearm. 

You knew that that wasn’t all that was bothering her, but it was definitely apart of it.

“Even if they can’t, which I’m sure they will,” You added when she frowned. “It still means you are the luckiest person on the planet.” Your eyes widened in false shock, a soft gasp slipping from your lips. “Maybe you’re meant to be a god.” Quickly rolling off of her bed and scrambling onto one knee, you bowed to her. “Your Majesty.” You said, grinning at the giggles that erupted out of her. 

“You’re stupid.” Ellie said, tossing a small, decorative pillow at you.

“I know what you are but what am I?” You tossed yourself back onto her bed, making the entire mattress bounce with your landing.

“I’ll do you one better,” Ellie leaned over and dug around her bag that was laying on the floor next to her, holding her joke book high in the air once she finally found it. “Okay.” She cleared her throat as she flipped through the pages, looking for a specific one. “Why is it bad to eat a clock?” She asked with a grin.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Why?”

She struggled to hold back a giggle as she answered. “Because it’s very time consuming.”

You let out a loud groan, your hands rubbing over your face. “Now that’s stupid!”

“Are you kidding me? That’s like, the best one in here!” Suddenly, Ellie’s laughs faded when she looked at the doorway.  

You raised your eyebrow, turning your head to look at the doorway too. Joel stood in the middle, his hand gripping the doorknob. “Baby, can you please give Ellie and I a minute?” His voice was tight, eyebrows slightly furrowed together. 

“Yeah, sure. I was gonna grab another shower before bed anyways.” You stood up and cracked your back, groaning at the muffled pops. You gave Ellie a quick hug, wishing her goodnight before sliding by Joel, pressing your hand against his shoulder for a moment before making your way back to your room. 

You made sure to stay quiet as you tidied up the room; folding putting clothes back into Joel’s bag that he haphazardly tossed onto the bed after his shower earlier. You couldn’t make out any words yet, just muffled speech, until Ellie yelled out: “Everybody, except for fucking you!”

Your heart skipped a beat, some buried down maternal instincts sounding the alarm in your nervous system. You hated to do it, but you crept back down the hallway, quietly standing a few feet away so that you could eavesdrop.

“So don’t tell me I would be safer with somebody else, because the truth is I would just be more scared!” There was a long pause after that, both you and Ellie desperately waiting for Joel’s response.

“You’re right.“ He said, his breath quick and uneven. “You’re not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” 

Your hand flew to cover your mouth before a gasp could escape. How could he be so cruel after everything they’d been through together? Sure, she's not his daughter, but you knew it felt like she was; though neither of them wanted to admit it.

“Now, come dawn, we’re goin’ our separate ways.” He spat out before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He paused when he saw you, his eyes a mix between pain and sorrow. He said nothing as he passed by you, heading into the bedroom to cool off.

You considered checking on Ellie, but you knew she would probably want some space to cool off aswell. Instead, you followed Joel into the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. “What was that about?” You said as you gently sat down on the edge of the bed, his back facing you.

Joel didn’t respond, his uneven breath was the only sound in the room. The tension was so thick you could cut a knife through it. The kind of tension that made you feel like if you even breathed wrong all hell would break loose. 

“What did you mean Joel? Why aren’t you coming with us?”

“You’re stayin’ too.” 

“Like hell I am.” You said before you could stop yourself, watching as he immediately tensed.

“Yes. You are.” Joel said with an unrecognizably bitter tone. He had never spoken to you like this. 

Your eyebrows shot up, your arms crossing over your chest. “Like. Hell. I. Am.” You shot back, sounding out each syllable slowly. You didn't want to argue with him, knowing that he was already clearly pissed off, but when it came to Ellie? Somebody had to stick up for her.

Joel sat up, staring at you with pure rage, his eyes piercing your own. “Tommy’s takin’ her in the morning. You wanna go and keep risking your life? Fine. Go ahead. See if I care.” 

Admittedly, his is words felt like you were being stabbed in the chest. You had been together for ten years and he wouldn’t care if you died? You knew he was just angry and that he didn’t really mean it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Fine. I will. Because I care about her and I refuse to let her do this by herself.” You stormed out of the room, deciding to spend the night in the guest bedroom instead. 

~

Though you were exhausted, it took a while for you to fall asleep. You couldn’t stop replaying the night in your head over and over again, all of it making sense now. 

Joel disappearing with Tommy for over an hour, the strange mood he and Ellie were in all night, why you hadn’t seen Tommy since dinner. Joel had told you before that he felt like he was failing Ellie like he had Sarah, but you didn’t think it was enough for him to completely abandon her when she needed him most.

The following morning you woke up to a quiet knock on your door, soon followed by Ellie shuffling in once she heard your quiet groan. “Are you staying with him?” Was all she said, staring at you with a blank expression on her face. 

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, suppressing a yawn as you shook your head. “You can’t get rid of me that easily girl.”

Ellie slowly nodded, picking at that hangnail again. “Thank fucking god. I didn't wanna do this shit by myself.” She laughed, but you could tell she was still hurt that Joel wasn't coming.

“Of course. I couldn’t let you do it alone.” 

Ellie glanced around the room, a confused look spread across her features. “Wait. Where’s Joel?”

You stood up with a sigh, knowing you’d have to face him if you wanted your bag. “I let him have our room. We had a bit of a disagreement too.”

“I know, but he’s not in there. I checked that room first. When I didn’t see anyone in there I decided to check down here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Are you sure?” you asked as you gently pushed past her, hurrying up the stairs. Sure enough, Joel was nowhere to be seen. Only a pile of messed up blankets sat on the bed in his place. 

You didn’t see her come in, but you heard her standing in the doorway. “Like I said, he’s not here.”

He knew you were leaving and didn’t even bother to say goodbye? Was that really how angry he was? 

You picked up your bag and tossed it on the bed, digging around for the warmest outfit you could find. “He probably went to a bar or something last night. I’m sure he’s fine.” You said with a sigh, pulling out one of Joel’s sweaters from your bag. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Ellie didn’t say anything; just gently closed the door behind her before going back to her room to wait.

~

You, Ellie, and Tommy walked to the stables in complete silence. You didn’t ask about Joel because frankly, you didn’t want to know. You were still upset about all of the things he said the night before, and now you were disappointed because he wasn’t even going to say goodbye to either of you.

“The hell are ya doin’.” Tommy said, pulling you from your thoughts.

Joel was standing in a stall with one of the horses, just about done buckling up a saddle when you all showed up. “I changed my mind.” Was all he said, not really looking at you or Ellie yet. You noticed a second horse already saddled up and ready in the stall beside him.

Tommy gave him a simple nod. “I see you’ve got it from here. You know you’re welcome back anytime right?” 

“Thank you.” Joel said as he pulled him into a quick hug. “I’ll take you up on that hopefully sooner than later.”

Tommy nodded again, wishing Ellie good luck before he made his way back home.

Joel and Ellie didn’t say anything to each other as he helped her onto the horse, making sure she was secure before turning back to you. “Look-”

“We’re good.” You said, leaning up to give him a quick peck on his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re here.” You slipped your foot into the stirrup and easily lifted yourself onto the saddle of the second horse. 

Joel did the same, sitting in the space in front of Ellie. “Ready?” He asked, gripping the reins with both hands, a small, content smile pulling at his lips. 

You nodded, giving your horse a gentle pat on his head before patting his side, asking him to start moving.

It was tough, but somehow you all managed to comeback stronger. Because though Joel didn’t like to admit it, you were a family. And you all loved each other.

[chiropteracupola]

[gripping the edge of the sink] we do not have menigitis we do not have tuberculosis we do not have scurvy we have a normal amount of pain for a typical day in the life. and also two infected hangnails.

[merbear25]

Mousefood

If given the choice, would you rather risk everything to save your community or just watch it burn? A horrendous outbreak quickly claimed the lives of many, but you were one of the few who stuck around in hopes of finding a cure. You knew of another, a scientist by the name of Caesar, who chose to stay and even offered his assistance. Although he didn't exactly come across as the trustworthy type, you were in desperate need of his help. However, his intentions weren't what they seemed.

CW: Plague AU, mentions of infections, some gore, death, fem!reader (envisioned to be late 20s+)

a/n: I just really wanted to write something for myself after the last follower event! Of course, it's got to be with Caesar. I'd like to thank @escenariosinfumables and @lady-of-endless for helping aid my obsession with him and @bby-deerling for wanting to be tagged in whatever this is. I poured my heart and soul into this, and it is by far my favorite thing I’ve written.

Curiosity drew many to its flame. However, most were engulfed by the intensity it came with, becoming nothing more than ash. With its light leading the way, the shadows danced upon the holder of the candle, calling out to what lurked in the dark. In spite of the threat of the unknown closing in, it was here that the surface of understanding our world was scratched.

Embracing the threat this reality had to offer was what led to great discoveries, for those mysteries which were just out of reach would eventually be unearthed by those most deserving. When those dark corners drew nearer and nearer, a whetted appetite opened a can of an array of worms ready to burrow into the crevices below.

The deeper they went, the more disarray was left spreading through the soil and infecting the roots of once healthy plants. Although it was a shame to watch such beauty in the world wilt away, success could never be accomplished without noble sacrifices.

There was still so much to uncover in our world, most of which was in plain sight. However, inquisitiveness could be a dangerous trait, especially when paired with an overactive imagination. 

It began with a few questions he asked himself, “How much would the human body be able to endure?”, “Is such a rise in temperature enough for the disease to survive?”, “How long could it live on surfaces?” 

A new world was flourishing in the petri dish on his desk; aeromonas hydrophila had earned a special place in his heart, as it had the most promising future amongst the others. In spite of the potential for such a calamitous future to unfold, there were countless efforts still to be made: trial and error was always a must no matter how promising something appeared to be.

Ordering one of his many lackeys to fetch something from off of his desk, he should have known they’d be negligent enough to disturb the slumbering plague. An important life lesson was about to go underway: the henchman chose to enter his master’s lab without any protective gear, knowing full well the dangers that came with it.

To make matters worse for himself, he had various hangnails. Other than those stinging for some time, they also left him vulnerable to infection, to which he would only have himself to blame.

While sorting through the scattered papers, he failed to catch a glimpse of the terror waiting to be uncaged, knocking into it ever so slightly. Despite the fact that the lid was on, a small droplet seeped through the crack when his hand collided with it. The splash of strange substance caused him little to no worry, simply brushing it off on his shirt while also spreading it across his open-sore hand.

Shortly after retrieving what Caesar had asked for, the lackey continued his streak of recklessness, unknowingly allowing the bacteria free realestate to other vacant lots on his person: rubbing his eyes, eating with his hands, and picking his nose when he thought no one was looking.

With the bacteria being spoiled for choice, it took full advantage of its new residence, burrowing its way deeper within the tissue, spreading misery to all the corners of the host. It wasn’t long before the worker started complaining: feeling hot and feverish were coupled with beads of sweat over his body. Irritation was left unconcealed as he berated his goon for everything under the sun before begrudgingly letting him go just to rid himself of the constant belly aching.

With annoyance still fresh, he took to sorting out some paperwork. What little decrease in anger was disregarded when faced with many of his notes scattered about his desk. Through the fits of cursing, his hands frantically collected his work. When uncovering the little friend he’d been growing, he was intrigued.

Having a closer look at his workstation, he noticed the lid on the petri dish was slightly ajar. Upon further examination, he saw that the contents within it had been disturbed. Putting two and two together wasn't difficult. It was obvious that the buffoon who'd just left was the cause of this. Despite his persistent irritation, perhaps this was one of life's happy accidents. Instead of hauling that henchman back, he thought it'd be better to see how his modifications played out when given free reign on that lamb―raising it for slaughter.

Putting on his face before leaving the room, the painted smile greeted the acquired host. “How are you feeling?”

His golden eyes scanned the subject, noting the obvious sickly complexion. “Just really hot…like I'm burning alive.” Sweat had been beading on his brow, now trickling down his clammy skin.

“Anything else?”

“No, just nauseous I guess.”

Guessing the disease was spreading much more quickly than originally anticipated, he hummed to himself to portray a sense of thoughtful consideration. “It's such a pity to have to ask this of you and the others, but seeing as supplies are low and there aren't many hands to even gather them, you'll have to journey into town.”

Faith in their master and trust in the process had become second nature to his men, making them malleable to his liking. They hung on each of his words as though they were holy scripture, sacrificing themselves by falling in line with his agenda.

“Now, be sure you don't come back until you've got everything on this list, all right? We can't afford to waste time on nonsensical runs.”

Wishing them luck while they disappeared behind the thick trees, an eye roll queued behind an exasperated groan. “What have I done to be cursed with the presence of such idiocy?”

Stumbling into the town below, the faint glow of the pharmacy’s sign led them there with ease. Upon entry, however, the sight of the ill one was cause for alarm. Gasping at the state of him, they were bombarded with questions, none of which they had the answers to.

“Well, can you at least tell us where you came from?”

“Just up the hill. We were low on supplies and were sent for them.”

“He shouldn't be traveling anywhere. He needs to see a doctor. Come, we'll help you bring him there.”

Laying down on the cot brought no relief to the increasing pain. The doctors who were called to tend to him were baffled when their hypotheses failed again and again.

Since this illness was proving to be unruly, they were left no choice but to quarantine the others, for they too were showing questionable symptoms.

After an agonizing night, the morning fared no better. Rivers of crimson secreted, staining their faces, sweat that soaked through any and all fabric and was hot to the touch: the medical professionals were regrettably repulsed by them.

However, once members of the staff complained about feeling unwell, repulsion shifted into panic. Having sent the unknowing hosts to town, the residents fell victim to their naivety in their master.

It wasn't long before the medicine they had ran out. Even if the treatment only worked to dull the intensity of the pain, it did nothing in terms of curing them. 

Patient zero started suffering from convulsions, brain swelling, and eventually organ failure—that was what they told the townsfolk to stifle any more chaos. In reality, his and the others’ bodies were deteriorating, earning the disease the name the Grim Death.

Without so much as a goodbye, those who only bore the title of doctor but lacked the compassion fled to save their own hide.

However, there was one who, against the odds, chose to stay in hopes of curing those suffering. With a sizable amount of knowledge, you persevered, in spite of knowing your own limitations. You needed someone to help you. Asking around, there was talk of a scientist who was thought to be mad.

Not being spoiled for choice, you ventured up the hill to him. Through all the weeds out front and the branches hanging overhead, a sinister aura loomed. Even with suspicions and doubts nagging at you to turn back, you were determined to see this through.

Dropping the heavy door knocker on the wooden surface, the echos sounding from within could be heard from the other side, leaving goosebumps along your skin.

The door suddenly cracked open, leaving a mere sliver for you to meet the man who'd built an unfavorable reputation for himself.

"Who are you?" His tone was flat as he stared you down.

"(Y/n). I'm from town, a doctor just trying to make sense of all this." When he didn't say anything, you continued, "I was told that you may have the resources and expertise to help me put an end to this." With a hopeful look in your eyes, you awaited his confirmation.

Huffing slightly at the inconvenience of you being there, he was still an opportunist; desperation encompassed you, practically offering yourself up on a silver platter. He would be able to ring you dry of all your potential.

"I have my ways." Looking you up and down, as if sizing up your worth, he stated, "Come in, and we can start chipping away at this iceberg of a predicament."

Jarring the door enough for you to slip through, he then promptly slammed it shut. Finding yourself in the center of the front entry, the surroundings lurched out at you: grand staircases on either side, a chandelier with candles that had been waned to near stubs, and vines that crept along the walls, entangling with some fresh cobwebs. It was blatantly obvious that he was living alone and by the looks of it he had been for a long time.

When you turned to face him, his eyes were fixated on you, trying to sort out if that sap story about wanting to save the town was just some ploy.

Being the one to break the silence, you asked what news of what was happening in town managed to reach him. Not wanting to assume he didn't know anything or barely anything, you trusted your question was inviting enough.

Tilting his head up slightly, his gaze followed down his nose, "But of course I know of the happenings shaking up that town. News of such horrors travels quickly as I'm sure you could guess."

Just as your train of thought was leaving the station, he stopped you, "Before you start sharing your experience, why don't we take it to the next room. I'm sure such riveting stories are ones I ought to be sitting down for."

He led you into the parlor, offering you a seat on the sofa near the dying embers in the fireplace. The armchair adjacent to you was occupied by him. "Go on now, my dear." He gestured with a smile upon his pale face.

"Well, if you've heard of the matters, then I'm sure you can understand the severity." He nodded, showing his acknowledgement. "Whatever medicine we had only just hardly helped the symptoms and quickly ran out. I'm sure it's possible to find a cure—in fact I know it is—though I can't create it on my own." Owning up to your own limitations fileted you, displaying all your vulnerabilities to this man you'd just met.

Waving his hand as if to fan off the doubts swarming the room, his voice was gentle, "Rest assured, my dear, for there is no illness out there that can best me."

"S-so does that mean you'll help? Or rather I'll help you?" You instantly humbled yourself, since you could feel you were in the presence of genius.

Grinning at your faux pas, he confirmed, "Yes, it does."

While relief casted itself on your expression, he was quick to clip the wings carrying optimism, "However, there are some rules you must abide by if we're going to be tackling this outbreak together."

When you voiced your compliance, he listed off the rules, "Firstly, whatever work we do must be kept confidential. Secondly, any..." he carefully crafted his next demands, "requests I make must not be met with resistance. Have faith and trust the process. Thirdly, seeing as conditions in town are worsening, I think it's best for you to stay here." Getting up from his chair, he motioned towards the fireplace, the logs wearing a faint glow.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you couldn't exactly let your surprise at the last rule slip, "I hope I don't come across as ungrateful saying this, but would it really be necessary to have me stay here?"

"Hm? So you'd prefer to be surrounded by the sick, risking infection yourself?" Your eyes falling to your hands said it all. "Believe me, dear, you'll be able to do more for them helping me here than you ever would stuck there with them."

Not having much grounds to argue with the conditions, you threw caution to the wind in dreaming of a future for those being affected. "I'm willing to do what it takes to help those in need."

Looking up at him, the sly grin stretching across his wasn't even attempted to be concealed. "Excellent. Such a noble display of self-sacrifice will not go unnoticed, I can assure you."

There was a clear shift in your demeanor; acting quickly, he impaled a pitchfork in your stream of consciousness, giving you the illusion of being able to see beyond all the while still placing you behind bars.

"Please," his voice soft and welcoming, "consider this arrangement as simply temporary and me as your guide to end all of this mess."

Fragmented skepticism was still scattered throughout your mind, yet the glimmers of hope shined through. The shadows of doubt were overlooked by your want to reinstate normalcy, leading you astray from sound judgment. With your confidence in this alliance still shaky, you were given no choice but to put your faith in this man.

Your submission was clear. As he leaned down to your eye level, he cocked his head in interest. "Shall I show you around then?" While being led out of the room, the slight glow from under the wood finally died out.

Listening to him share the history of his home was awe-inspiring. Each story that passed his lips was captivating, and each room appeared to come alive as he spoke about them. There was a question itching at you, though. With him rambling on about how vast and rich everything about this place was, you attempted a polite interruption.

"This is quite an impressive home with an undeniably spellbounding past, but if you don't mind me asking, where exactly do you work?"

“Ah, let me show you.”

Making your way out back and ducking under the overgrown tree limbs, he brought you to the bottom of a cliff. Grinning at your lingering disorientated state from the twists and turns he’d been throwing at you, he patted the tall wall of earth.

“This leads to a world many other scientists and doctors could only dream of.” With a devilish glint in his eyes, he kept them locked on you while the PIN pad appeared. Such a subtlety of awe shown on your gentle face caused a few soft chuckles to escape him. You were, after all, just moments away from laying eyes on the most astounding lab known to man.

The earth parted, allowing the both of you access to a world beyond your wildest dreams. A spiraling staircase led to the cluttered, yet organized workspace. Bookcases lined the tall walls, filled with knowledge ranging from a multitude of scientific subjects to history. With ceilings climbing high, the feeling of being a mere insect was hard to shake.

Throwing his hands in the air, he gave an enthusiastic spin, “This is where all of the world’s greatest mysteries are unveiled.” Leering over his shoulder, he leaned down, his voice husky from the thrill of sharing his brilliance with someone. “The whispers in the dark are brought to light in this very room.”

Shuddering from the overly familiar closeness, his words were laced in a toxin, alluding to the lengths at which he went to obtain such intelligence. 

“This, however, is simply my study.” Stretching back to his full height, he offered to show you his lab. “Surely you didn’t come all this way just to see this. Let’s continue the grand tour.”

The elongated corridor gave the illusion of stretching further and further. Once finally reaching the end, he flung open the door. “Ladies first,” he grinned.

When entering, he slapped his open palm against the switch on the wall, causing you to jump as the lights above illuminated the laboratory. A laugh rose from him, which left butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach.

Brushing past you, he gestured to the vials of various substances, beakers, and the well-sorted notes and binders, all of which kept his brilliance cataloged. “This is where the magic happens, my dear.”

Fidgeting with your loose fabric, assuming that you were granted permission to look around seemed foolish, so instead, you peered around the room from your personal bubble.

Eyeing you, he saw you as a rather curious thing, something for him to pick apart. “Tell me, what do you specialize in?”

“Immunology,” holding your head high and your stare firm.

“Oh? Well, how lucky I am to have such gifted hands to aid me.” Humming at the sight of confidence radiating through you, he questioned further, “And how long have you had to wield such expertise?”

“I’ve only just finished medical school.�� Despite knowing how that sounded—a rookie with only the theories but none of the practice—you refused to allow the self-assurance in your capabilities to budge.

“Then what a great learning experience this will be for you.”

Suspecting a mocking tone, deflection came to your defense, “Yes, it’ll look great on my resume.”

What seemed like a spec of genuineness was layered in his laughter. “That’s the spirit!”

A slight tug at the corner of your mouth was shown, giving your nerves a bit of a break. Looking around the room once more, your eagerness to have a glimpse into his mind made it hard to stay still. Risking a glance, your curiosity couldn’t be held back, “May I have a look around?”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, “Sure, after all we’ll be spending many moons in here together.”

Nodding at his statement, you were mindful of your step and distance from his work, not even daring to breathe on them in the wrong way.

Pride bubbled inside him, while he watched you soaking in many of his past feats. Perhaps your lack of experience wouldn’t hinder you from appreciating some of the finer tastes life had to offer—or rather, he had to offer.

“What condition were the first patients in when you left?”

“Oh, they— ” nightmarish images of their decaying bodies flashed in your mind, “their conditions were critical. Their organs were…deteriorating, as if acid had been poured on them.” Choking back the tears from the horrors you witnessed, you would never be able to forget their pain filled screams for help.

In spite of the fact he was elated at the progress the creature was making in such a short amount of time, such celebration wouldn’t fare well for him in the long run. “How awful! Those poor souls.” Placing a hand on his chest, he signaled his condolences for the terror you must’ve been subjected to.

Seeing the grief on your face made you easy pickings. “Well, don’t you worry, we’ll start our practices first thing in the morning.”

“In the morning? Why not now?” There was a clear sense of urgency in what you’d just told him, so you couldn’t wrap your head around why anyone would choose to wait.

“Now, now, calm yourself. It’s already nightfall and we’ll need our strength if we’re to be of any use to them. Plus, there are a few plants in the area we can test with, and I’m sure you’ll agree that they’ll be much easier to find in broad daylight. Hm?”

His words flowed like cream and his tone felt like velvet, yet there was just something off about him that you just couldn’t put your finger on. However, you were in no position to question his advice. He was, of course, much more experienced than you, but you began to wonder that with experience came a lack of empathy.

“You’re right,” you admitted.

“Oh, darling, of course I am! Don’t get carried away by the excitement.” He moved to your side, his presence exuding every ounce of authority over you. Placing his hand gently on your shoulder, he leaned down, popping your personal bubble. “Trust me when I say you’ll only get burned.”

A deep red burned your ears, when he pulled away. As you hesitantly looked up at him, his unnerving grin and piercing dead eyes aroused a fear in you that hadn’t yet been realized. An involuntary nod was all you could muster in that moment.

Sucking in a sharp inhale, he tilted his head while making a suggestion, “Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick read, though.”

Watching the color reappear on your face gave him more satisfaction than it should have. “Oh, that would be nice! I mean, I just want to feel like I’m doing something,” you reigned back on your joy at him changing his mind.

Sighing at your display, he covered the drop of irritation skillfully, “Completely understandable. And well, you are a doctor, aren’t you?”

Being reminded of all those who were too cowardly to stay and help, you thought it’d be best that you not unleash all of your broodiness. Shaking off the ones who’d failed those folk, you were open to whatever knowledge you may gain from Caesar. 

Having followed him back to the library, you observed as his finger traced along the spines. Lightly tapping one, he glanced back at you, “This one. It'll be a good start in finding which plants will be most suitable.”

You gladly took the book he offered you, mesmerized by the delicate pages which showed its age. Mindfully thumbing through the pages, there were a few that called out to you.

The enthusiasm radiating off of you came with warmth he hadn't felt in quite some time. Being surrounded by people who lacked any luster, any spark of light had taken a toll on his own pleasure in what he did. As you combed through each of the pages you bookmarked, he had a hunch you were going to be a rather entertaining guest.

Deciding you had your fill for the night, he guided you to the room you'd be staying in. Wishing you sweet dreams, the comfort of the pillow quickly pulled you into a deep slumber. While you slept heavily and went in and out of dreams that stirred the dread swirling in your heart, you were met with twinges of pain but still you did not awake till morning.

Jolting up in bed, you triggered the room to spin and your head to pound. Looking about the room, you'd hoped the last few days were just nightmares, weaving into what could be mistaken for reality, but to your dismay, you could never wake up from this.

Creaking the door open, you were given a dimly lit view down the corridor. Concentrating on each faint sound in the distance, you cautiously made your way down the stairs. Even though you two spent some time getting to know each other last night, he was still a stranger and you were under his roof, abiding by his rules. Crossing any boundaries would not be taken lightly, that much you could gather from him.

Peeping around the corner, the muffins plated on the kitchen counter caught your eye. With the strong winds of the outbreak pulling you every which way, the last meal you had felt like a distant memory. You drummed your fingers next to the aesthetically pleasing morsels, wishing that he'd come by so you could properly ask permission.

With the minutes ticking away, your thoughts wandered, leaving you to ponder his whereabouts. The muffins taunted you, but your hunger was off set by the discomfort of stuffing your face with treats that may or may not have been for you.

In a slight huff of annoyance, you got up to search for him, but before you could cross the threshold, he appeared at the end of the adjoining hall.

“Have to eat and run?” His playful tone carried over to you.

“N-no, actually, just run I suppose.”

While entering the room, his gaze immediately casted from you to the plated baked goods. “You're allowed to have one. If you'd like of course.”

There was something in the way he offered that churned your stomach, causing you to lose your appetite. “No, thank you. Maybe the current events have affected my hunger.”

Shrugging off your refusal, he added, “Later then. You'll have to eat at some point.”

“It's not that I don't appreciate the offer! It's just…,” you did your best to mask any unease, “I’d feel so much better if we made progress with our research. Could we please get started on it soon?”

Muffled giggles trailed out of him, “I don't mean to laugh, but have they any idea how lucky they are to have someone as determined as you fighting for them?”

The slight shift in your eyes was very telling. “They don't truly appreciate you, do they?” The rhetorical question pierced you deeper than you would've ever guessed.

“I'm willing to bet they never have,” lining his observations with incitement, he inched closer as if inviting you to bear your hatred for them.

“It doesn't matter whether they cared about me or not,” your vocal cords were already swelling from the anticipation of heartache, “What matters is doing the right thing.”

Snorting at your noble display, each moment with you was becoming more glaring that you were going to be tougher to sink his claws into. “Oh, I never tire of selflessness…comradery is truly endearing.” He didn't bother hiding his eye roll and sarcasm.

Disgust at his disinterest in the lives that were being lost boiled within. How can such a person exist?

He was clamping down on a nerve without an ounce of care. However, you couldn't let him get to you. You had to push through these ‘temporary conditions’, then afterwards you'd rid yourself of him. 

“I think it'd be best if we focus on the task at hand.” Keeping your eyes locked on his, your perseverance remained unwavering.

Tilting his head from side to side, he hummed in agreement, “What a great idea.”

Gathering the notes the two of you compiled last night, the plants for which you'd forage had been decided on. Venturing outside to collect them, the peace and quiet found in nature could never be matched. 

Distancing yourself from Caesar gave you time to reflect; going back to your repulsions, there must be a deeper issue at hand, one of which you were not equipped to deal with. In spite of all this, a shred of pity for the man crawled out from behind the corners of your mind. Being alone for who knew how long must carry a lot of weight. Then posed the question as to why he was alone: by choice or chased away? 

Even if there was evil displayed in this world, you held out hope that most people had good in them—including him. When you returned with the ingredients, you challenged yourself to look at him through a new lens and wanted to give him the chance that perhaps many others hadn't.

“Would you care to observe, (y/n)?”

“Yes, I would.” Taking your place next to him, you mentally took note of each movement he made, soaking in the valuable skills he willingly shared with you.

At one point when you needed to make one of your runs to his library to double check something, you caught yourself; you were thoroughly enjoying this time with him, to which shame and guilt were dragged behind. What gull you had to be having fun in the midst of a new plague.

Unbeknownst to you, the aura you carried was thick with self-loathing. Pushing through the tasks at hand, those intrusive thoughts twisted their persistence, whispering in your ear: how wretched you are, how lowly of a doctor you must be to find pleasure in this. Can't you hear their cries? They're voices are being carried to you on the back of the wind that's rustling those leaves. 

You caught stray glares here and there. “Pull yourself together,” you scrutinized yourself. The inner monologue, however, was snowballing into a one-sided argument, leaving you in an echo chamber.

Stretching back in his chair, he sighed, “What's happened?”

Rapid blinks and a puzzled look coupled as you stared at him. A faint ‘Hm?’ was all that followed.

His golden eyes squinted at you, observing you just as he was doing with the samples. Pointing out the error you were about to make, he reiterated, this time in an irked tone.

“Nothing.” Your voice was dismissive.

“You know, most people are such dreadful liars and you're no exception.”

Unwilling to hold your tongue, you informed him of the joy you felt in pushing forth towards a discovery.

“So then why are you sulking?”

“Because I can't help but feel bad for enjoying the process of finding a cure.”

Rubbing his eyes, there was little patience he had for your endless amount of compassion. “The world doesn't stop just because there's a new disease. Life goes on, so why let it stop you from enjoying it?”

Crossing your arms at his advice, deep down you knew he was right and you hated it.

“If you became a doctor to save everyone, then you're in for a rude awakening, my dear.”

“I know I can't save everyone!”

“Then stop acting like you can! I mean, you've wasted so much time fretting over how sorry you feel about everything and anything and for what? Hm? Many have died and many more will quickly follow, so stop letting that bleeding heart of yours get in the way of progress.”

A loathing festered inside you towards him but more yourself. Regaining your composure and any shred of dignity, you excused yourself to bury your nose in research.

Cracking open a few books and setting them around you, the urge to wallow in your own self pity was warded off. Despite the vile coating still lingering in your mouth, his view on the world draped over you. 

Harsh words gnawing at your conscience, seeping through the newly formed cracks. Self loathing swelled in knowing he was right.

Carrying out further experiments on the plants you'd collected in silence was becoming more and more unpleasant. However, there was nothing you felt like you could say. Keeping your nose to the grindstone would be the simplest way to convey where your heart lay.

As the day drew to a close and the dread from earlier still hanging over you, going to bed without supper was an easy decision. Yet even with the exhaustion of the day weighing you down, rest served as no aid: tossing and turning, whining from pain, eyes that fluttered open but never pulling you awake. 

Waking to the dull gray that clouded your room, your rigid form staggered across your host's line of vision.

His legs carried him fast, circling around you like a vulture.

“Despite looking it, I'm not dead,” you croaked.

Chuckling at your spunk, he offered a solution, “I believe I may have something for you.”

Following him into the kitchen, you already assumed what he had planned. “It'd have to be one strong cup of coffee to liven me up.”

“No, no, none of that!” Clanking jars trying to reach for something, an ‘Ah-ha!’ sounded before showing you a small glass bottle with a few stray pills.

Displaying them proudly, he instructed you to take a blue one now and a yellow one before bed. “They'll help keep your mind in check.”

With a searing glare, it shifted from the bottle to him.

“Tsk, you know, you're really going to have to learn to trust me at some point.”

A swirl of guilt stirred in you.

“We are partners, aren’t we?” His grin was crooked while he jostled the pills, nabbing your attention in hopes of taking them.

“Yes…you're right.”

“Ah, those words are music to my ears.”

Huffing a half-hearted laugh, you popped the first pill.

“It shouldn't be long before you feel the effects. But, uh, please tell me when you feel better.” He turned to place some of the other containers up right.

“What's the rush? Are the plants going to disappear soon?”

Humming in slight amusement, he answered, “No, but I managed to come up with our first beta sample for a cure.” He glanced over his shoulder to witness the astonishment that would undoubtedly play on your face, keeping his gaze firm and analytical.

To no surprise, you were rattled with eagerness to put such a thing into action. “Really? That quickly? There's no way!”

“Oh, my dear, you have such little faith, but I can assure you that you're working with one of a kind.”

Stood there in awe, you couldn't believe he'd managed to create the first beta sample as quickly as he did. Your beams of gratitude fueled him in ways you'd only regret.

“Wait, so are you saying we can start testing it?”

“Well, it's not ideal to immediately start testing on patients, yet I'm afraid we have no other options.”

“That's true…they could have severe side effects.” When you hung your head at the thought, you missed his lips twisting into a grin.

He regained his composure before playing on your heart strings. “Oh, now don't you start worrying about that.” Cocking his head to the side, his intonation rose, “Aren't you hungry?”

“Well, no, but—”

“You haven't eaten since you got here. I'm starting to think you're snubbing my cooking,” he teased.

After finishing the meal, it dawned on you how your fatigue had completely disappeared. Clearing your throat caught his attention.

“Thank you very much for the meal, and I just noticed I'm feeling much better now.”

Clasping his hands together, he gave you a warm-hearted response, “That's wonderful! We need you to be in tip top shape if you're going into town.”

The assumption that you'd be the one carrying out the injections was obvious, but you would never protest anyway. Nodding at him, you confidently notified him that you were ready.

Talking through the correct dosage, you set out feeling sure in your abilities.

In spite of the fact it'd only been a day since you left, a few more people had fallen ill, and those you had fallen prior to it were in critical condition—the first unlucky few having already been pronounced dead.

Looking around, you saw a few nurses who'd stuck around, which brought you some relief. Informing the staff that you and Caesar were working to find an end to this, they felt as if they had no other option; they placed their faith in you.

Finding your way over to some cots, you did your best to soothe his cries before allowing him to be the first to test out this substance. You wished you could've done more, though it was morally questionable enough using one person as a guinea pig, let alone a fourth of the town.

Sticking around for an hour was more than long enough: the patient's heart rate spiked and his temperature climbed to life-threatening heights before convulsions ensued. Within the span of five minutes his body gave way, unable to fight any longer.

Even though you knew that the first sample wouldn't be the last, you'd still held out for something better. Trekking back up the hill, you gave Caesar the results.

He leaned back in his chair, mulling over what you'd bestowed on him and was then motivated with a new course of action.

Whatever doubt was circling around you was cleared once you saw that spark ignite. With new flares of motivation coursing through you, your hope remained unwavering.

“Oh, how careless of me. I nearly forgot to ask: do you feel…unwell at all?”

Reflecting on the lack of precautions you took in town, you had yet to feel any sign of illness creeping up. “I feel surprisingly fine, actually.”

He was seemingly pleased by your resilient immune system, leading the two of you to set forth on tweaking the faulty product.

With the moon high and the night still, your dark silhouettes trailed behind as you passed the entry’s threshold. Keeping to Caesar’s instructions, you swallowed the yellow pill before retiring to your room.

A faint ‘sweet dreams’ drifted after you while you were heading towards the staircase. Looking back to return his kindness, you wondered from where exactly he’d called out to you. Placing your hand on the railing, you called back to him but only deafness filled the rooms.

Not being keen on the idea of sticking around until he popped around a corner, you hurriedly got to your room. Laying in bed, praying that the pill he gave you would kick in soon, creaks seemed to sound off downstairs, in the rooms next to yours, at the foot of your bed, yet there was no one there to greet you when you shot up.

With sweat tickling your skin, you talked yourself down from the ledge; paranoia was sinking in, that’s all. There was nothing lurking in the corners of this house that you hadn’t already encountered. Laying your head back down on the pillow, the effects of the drug blanketed you in the warmth of its duvet.

Your eyes didn’t flutter open until the sun peeked from behind the clouds, leading a stray ray of light to cast on your sleeping form. Stirring under the sheets, a twinge of pain pricked at your shoulder. Rubbing it appeared to grace you with some ounce of relief, yet you had just about had it with these sleepless nights.

Thrashing the sheets off of your entangled legs, you found yourself downstairs without any true sense of purpose.

“Where are you off to in such a frenzy?”

Shooting your focus in the direction of the parlor, your host was relaxing on the sofa, wondering if you were showing some new kind of symptom for the plague.

“I don’t know what it is about this place, but I haven’t been able to have a proper night’s sleep since getting here.”

Frowning subtly, he asked, “Did the pill not help?”

“Well, no. I mean, it did but I woke up with this pain in my shoulder and—”

“It just sounds like you slept on it wrong,” he propped his arm against the arm rest to lean his cheek against it, smirking at you with complacency.

It was clear that you were finding it difficult to come up with a retort, which left yourself open to him.

“I think you’re going just a bit mad from everything that’s been happening.” His devilish grin danced upon his pale complexion.

“That’s not true! I just…I think I just need to feel like I’m contributing more? Maybe?” 

His lips fell into a mocking pout, queuing an eye roll from you. “Well, if you want to contribute a little more, why don’t you assist me in making more…unconventional changes to the samples.”

The perplexing connotation of what he meant by ‘unconventional’ made you involuntarily shake your head in an attempt to rid of any strife that could follow. “What do you mean by ‘unconventional’?”

“Well, you saw with your own eyes that the plague is still spreading with many dying such horrific deaths, right? If we’re to save as many as possible, risks must be taken.”

Placing your face in your palms, you sought for ways of self-soothing. You couldn’t think of a good enough argument against taking such measures. With that being said, your voice shook with doubt, “I don’t know. We could end up killing more people than if we stick to our current method.”

“Perhaps,” he tilted his head from side to side to rattle your concerns around, “or perhaps not and the risks could save many more lives than originally anticipated.” Leaning forward, his smug smile tore down the assurance you were clinging to, “That’s why they’re called risks, (y/n).”

With fragments of humiliation biting at your cheeks, you felt inclined to agree with him, “F-fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“Excellent! Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Sunlight was now transitioning into dusk and with the day being laid to rest, you had a new version of yesterday’s sample. Being fed words of affirmation on your irreplaceable addition to these experiments, you ventured down into town again with his promises of this being the end of it ringing loudly in your ears.

Finding out many more in town had started falling ill, you regrettably had to pass over some who were beyond saving; there was only so much power you had and repairing organs was not within it.

The effects this time were nearly immediate; the patient’s veins in their arm ran with a deep purple and began bulging through the skin. What was in the injected arm rushed throughout the rest of the body before giving you a chance to process what was unfolding.

Within moments of it spreading, sizzling could be heard emerging from the seizing test subject. As a nurse rushed to support the ill-fated soul, he pulled back in agony. The sweat accumulating at the base of her head was deteriorating the fabric.

What lasted mere moments would forever be etched into your mind, making sure to slash away beliefs you’d become anything more than an assistant in genocide.

Breaking your way into Caesar’s, you were overcome with fits of rage and sorrow. Searching high and low for him, you set your rampage on his lab. Choking out his name in a pained yelp, you marched down the hall to find an empty room. Disbelief clouded your better judgment as you charged into the room.

You jolted out of your skin upon the sound of the slamming door ricocheting against the four walls. Leering down at his prey, he promptly shoved you back in a chair. His grim appearance didn’t falter while his piercing eyes burrowed their way to your core, wrapping your frightened heart with barbed wire and ready to squeeze if necessary.

“I’m assuming everything went as planned?” His gaze was unwavering but the side of his mouth was being tugged at.

“What was the point in all of this? Why did you keep me here?” Tears were stinging you as they swelled up.

“Well, for one, you came here on your own free will and offered to help me. That was simply an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. And, uh, quick question before I continue, did you touch that last patient by chance?”

Scanning each scattered remnant of your mind, you recalled trying to keep them from injuring themselves, remembering the slight dampness on their shirt.

“And that, my dear, would be the main reason. You see, I thought it was strange that despite being in town during the outbreak, you had no symptoms, so I decided to send you there again with the “cure”. When you came back with no complaints, I just had to see this through.”

“How do you know for sure though? That I’m immune. I mean, couldn’t there be other factors th—”

Tilting his head and giving you a sympathetic smile, “I think you know how.”

Streams of panic cascaded down your cheeks. “So, what are you just going to keep me here as some rat?”

“No, of course not! Luckily for you, you’re quite an entertaining guest.” His eyes casted down slightly before finishing his speech, “I will be the kind host I always have been towards you and offer you knowledge you could only dream of, as long as you comply with each and every test I run on you.”

Peering into each other's souls, there were clashing morals and dreams for the future, with which yours was in no shape to fight against. “Fine.” You muttered.

“Oh, come now. Don’t get in such a mood. I wasn’t lying about everything. You do have something unique about you, hence why you won’t be bound to a cage. But remember that only a waning candle sheds its light around, so just make sure that light of yours stays lit.”

Straightening up to his full height again, dismay engulfed you while you awaited his next demands. For once in your life, you wished you’d been selfish and fled with the others.