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bakerstreet2019-09-05 01:54 pm
weebsock) wrote in bakerstreet2019-09-05 01:54 pm
Entry tags:
You're my Florence Nightingale.
shipping meme 
|
[ can be either role, but fair warning, she makes a terrible patient. ]
[he can be either a nagging caretaker or a whiny patient, either works!]
[ Part of friend duties: Taking care of your friend's injured shifu! It's really a mystery how he got hurt and how he ended up at Puji Shrine, but it's at least not a mystery why Shi Qingxuan is here: Because His Highness asked! Taking care of Lang Ying, taking care of Ban Yue - and now, taking care of Xie Lian's former shifu! Shi Qingxuan isn't...really the best person to ask these things of, but he can at least make sure Mei Nianqing doesn't somehow get in a worse state while His Highness is away.
Look, he'll be a good caretaker and bring him a bowl of water. ]
Elder, here's some water. How are you feeling?
Look, he'll be a good caretaker and bring him a bowl of water. ]
Elder, here's some water. How are you feeling?
( he's both a terrible caretaker and an absolute bitch to take care of. )
[ speaking of absolute bitches, i've got one for u. c: ]
shit gettin real (also i love that icon? i live for felix's smile)
philandered
- 2019-09-09 20:36 (UTC) - Expandif only he smiled like that for sylvain........... :3c
beastshaming
- 2019-09-09 21:00 (UTC) - Expandu say that but that smile comes from a certain a+ support ;3
philandered
- 2019-09-09 21:28 (UTC) - Expandgood lord i am weeping @ that introspec someone hug felix damn
philandered
- 2019-09-10 03:48 (UTC) - Expandnever apologize for thirsty felix, sylvain is trash, it works
philandered
- 2019-09-11 18:01 (UTC) - Expandfelix hates the zero waste movement because he couldn't live without his garbage bf
beastshaming
- 2019-09-11 21:20 (UTC) - Expandwhat if.. we fucked.. in the dumpster? haha just kidding...... unless..?
beastshaming
- 2019-09-12 22:28 (UTC) - Expandit took me all day to find this pic again BUT: https://i.imgur.com/igeuKIJ.png
beastshaming
- 2019-09-14 13:10 (UTC) - ExpandWORTH IT, i picture felix in it with a caption of "no homo"
philandered
- 2019-09-14 17:10 (UTC) - Expandthere are only two times on this clock and it's either horny or sad o'clock
beastshaming
- 2019-10-12 21:20 (UTC) - Expandand i love how this thread has whipped back and forth between those two times tbh, best combo
philandered
- 2019-10-14 00:20 (UTC) - Expand[ OTA for gen/platonic, which is just as welcome. And either role works; arguably a better nurse than patient, but her line of work means her being injured is pretty par for the course, so I'm open to anything. Just fuck her up honestly. ]
Edited 2019-09-05 20:57 (UTC)
[Llewelyn was almost at the end of the shortcut he usually took to the bar he liked to frequent, it had been a long but productive day that left him feeling like he deserved a reward. It was a pleasant enough place, and the patrons at least knew him well enough that most let him be or knew better than to take offence to his oddities. He’d hoped for some company, but found himself alone as everyone else had been busy. It was fine, though. Sometimes Watts found that people watching was just as rewarding as a good conversation with his drink.
Rounding one corner between buildings, heading down the next alleyway that would come out at the bar; the detective found himself slowing his step with a small, curious tilt of his head. A familiar figure also seemingly heading down the same path. With a quickened pace, shoulders slouching forward slightly as he made to catch up.
He made a point to make his presence known, of course. Llewelyn hated it when someone came up behind him since people who came up behind you without announcing themselves generally meant ill will, something he did not. ]
Esther? What an interesting coincidence.
[Is Watts scrutinizing her appearance with his usually overly curious, searching look? Yes. Something seemed off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was right away. A few seconds more, and he noted fresh bruising, and a pallor to her skin that was definitely not normal, the sort that went along with minor blood loss. Llewelyn was a detective, not a doctor, but he had seen injured people to varying degrees enough to know the signs.]
You... Don’t seem alright.
[He’s obviously concerned, getting straight to the point as his eyes are already doing a quick scan of the alleyway to get an idea of how recently something might have happened, and if anyone were following her. Was he being paranoid? Maybe a little. He’s had to look after people in similar situations often enough, but it was never any less distressing.]
Rounding one corner between buildings, heading down the next alleyway that would come out at the bar; the detective found himself slowing his step with a small, curious tilt of his head. A familiar figure also seemingly heading down the same path. With a quickened pace, shoulders slouching forward slightly as he made to catch up.
He made a point to make his presence known, of course. Llewelyn hated it when someone came up behind him since people who came up behind you without announcing themselves generally meant ill will, something he did not. ]
Esther? What an interesting coincidence.
[Is Watts scrutinizing her appearance with his usually overly curious, searching look? Yes. Something seemed off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was right away. A few seconds more, and he noted fresh bruising, and a pallor to her skin that was definitely not normal, the sort that went along with minor blood loss. Llewelyn was a detective, not a doctor, but he had seen injured people to varying degrees enough to know the signs.]
You... Don’t seem alright.
[He’s obviously concerned, getting straight to the point as his eyes are already doing a quick scan of the alleyway to get an idea of how recently something might have happened, and if anyone were following her. Was he being paranoid? Maybe a little. He’s had to look after people in similar situations often enough, but it was never any less distressing.]
[If you'd like to do a crossover Mystique could have rescued Daisy from bad guys but given she's a terrorist when Daisy wakes up it could be Simmons at her bedside?]
[ He's not technically meant to go around healing/helping people, but he would anyway, lbr. Gen just as welcome as shipping, though Aziraphale's only for the latter please. ]
Subject Sigma/ Dr. Siebren de Kuiper | Overwatch | OTA Canon Mates over 25
whatisthatmelody
2019-09-05 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Can be a healer or in need of healing. ]
[probably caretaker, but either role. m/f pref.]
[ au where they're in a dungeon party together. let's say marcille's staff broke or something and that's why she isn't instantly brute-force magicking shinobu's illness better, and that's why it comes down to......
potion-brewing.
she might be a mage rather than a witch, but she can definitely do this much. she pores over an open magic tome, muttering something to herself before brightening. ] Aha~ that's right, I thought this would be the last ingredient! [ and then casts something very suspicious-looking like some small disembodied creature's limb into an open beaker. which instantly starts to bubble and spark in a menacing way, way too shady to swallow.
meanwhile shinobu is bedridden.
dare she accept the suspicious potion??? ]
potion-brewing.
she might be a mage rather than a witch, but she can definitely do this much. she pores over an open magic tome, muttering something to herself before brightening. ] Aha~ that's right, I thought this would be the last ingredient! [ and then casts something very suspicious-looking like some small disembodied creature's limb into an open beaker. which instantly starts to bubble and spark in a menacing way, way too shady to swallow.
meanwhile shinobu is bedridden.
dare she accept the suspicious potion??? ]
(either role! fussy enough to be a caretaker, reckless enough to be someone's patient.)
[Can play either role though on her end her skill with care taking is minor at best. OTA, and let me know if I need to avoid spoilers.]
claude: flirts endlessly with everyone. also claude: surprised pikachu face @ genuine affection
inaurate
- 2019-09-30 01:28 (UTC) - Expand[Typically the doctor, but he can end up as the patient as well.]
Edited 2019-09-05 23:31 (UTC)
(LEANING MORE TOWARDS GEN...
Hakusan hadn't been at the citadel for very long but by now, he's grown accustomed to life at this citadel. To say he's comfortable would probably be a stretch... he didn't really consider things like that. As long as everyone was able to perform well, things like comfort didn't matter. Or at least, that's what he thought before. Now, he isn't really sure. Why would people keep asking him if he was comfortable and adjusting well here if it wasn't important...?
Regardless, as one of the newer swords at the citadel, he has to work hard to catch up with the others. His poor stamina didn't make it easy-- he exhausted easily to the point that even his special healing skill was limited to just a few times. He was slow in battle-- even slower than the oodachi-- and his attacks were weak. He had to work hard to perform as well as the others. He had to...
And it's that exact way of thinking that had gotten him so hurt in the last battle. He'd worn himself out and his battle performance became sloppy. As one of the weaker ones in the squad, he was an easy target and he'd taken a direct hit. Even if the battle had been a victory, it wasn't without taking some serious damage and Hakusan was carried back to the citadel for repairs. While the saniwa tended to his blade and did the bulk of the healing, his human body was left in Yagen's care.
When he wakes up from his rest, he feels fine. Perhaps he isn't 100% but he's well enough and he begins to get out of bed. He can at least help clean or sort records. He can still be useful.
The fox that is always with him is quick to alert Yagen that his patient is awake. There's a high pitched bark as the fox gives away her partner. Yagen Toushirou, come get your patient.)
Hakusan hadn't been at the citadel for very long but by now, he's grown accustomed to life at this citadel. To say he's comfortable would probably be a stretch... he didn't really consider things like that. As long as everyone was able to perform well, things like comfort didn't matter. Or at least, that's what he thought before. Now, he isn't really sure. Why would people keep asking him if he was comfortable and adjusting well here if it wasn't important...?
Regardless, as one of the newer swords at the citadel, he has to work hard to catch up with the others. His poor stamina didn't make it easy-- he exhausted easily to the point that even his special healing skill was limited to just a few times. He was slow in battle-- even slower than the oodachi-- and his attacks were weak. He had to work hard to perform as well as the others. He had to...
And it's that exact way of thinking that had gotten him so hurt in the last battle. He'd worn himself out and his battle performance became sloppy. As one of the weaker ones in the squad, he was an easy target and he'd taken a direct hit. Even if the battle had been a victory, it wasn't without taking some serious damage and Hakusan was carried back to the citadel for repairs. While the saniwa tended to his blade and did the bulk of the healing, his human body was left in Yagen's care.
When he wakes up from his rest, he feels fine. Perhaps he isn't 100% but he's well enough and he begins to get out of bed. He can at least help clean or sort records. He can still be useful.
The fox that is always with him is quick to alert Yagen that his patient is awake. There's a high pitched bark as the fox gives away her partner. Yagen Toushirou, come get your patient.)
[ dimitri!
that's the last thing he recalls. catherine, calling his name with an aggression he's never heard in her voice, red tinting the edges of his vision while his sight hones in on claude's unconscious form. he remembers being pulled away from him, tugged out of the picture and away from the bloody scene before him. he doesn't remember much else after that, blurred images of claude and catherine and even felix feeling distant and far away and like maybe he might be floating.
underneath the clouds, and the fuzziness, and the barely-there consciousness, he can hear claude's rejection still stinging him deep in his chest, the embarrassment, the way claude had wanted him to hurt-- anger dwells deep in dimitri's chest, swelling like a balloon, but slowly, air deflates out of it as he's removed from consciousness, the rage in him finally exhausting him to passing out.
the blood on his knuckles will be washed away, the rust-colored water staining the sink's white edges. his dizzy head will be laid on an infirmary bed, a cool cloth laid on his forehead. his bruises will be iced, though they are nowhere near as severe as the trauma that brings claude in after him, long after he's begun to doze and his heart rate has begun to calm. manuela will call for help cleaning up the wound, she'll re-set his nose, and she'll ice the bruising around his cheekbone.
hours will pass before dimitri finally comes around, his head still spinning. he's alone in the infirmary, or he thinks he is. he closes his eyes for a moment, and does his best to recall what had landed him here. he remembers flashes, embarrassment, claude, his green eyes, being alone, stinging in his chest-- but nothing concrete. in fact, there's a lot he can't remember, and that realization washes over him like a tidal wave.
he'd gotten angry. he'd been so embarrassed that he'd gotten ... more than angry. he'd let himself fall into a rage, and by the looks of the bed at his right, claude had taken the brunt of it. as dimitri unravels the events of the sparring session, the pieces begin to fall into place, completing the most fucked up puzzle in his head. he'd tried to kiss him and just been let down. he'd kicked him out. he'd let it fester and swirl and grow in his head into something big enough that lead him... here.
to this.
what has he done...?
dimitri carefully lifts himself out of the infirmary bed, his expression twisted into one of concern, guilt, regret. all of the above. he'd really let himself do this to himself, to claude, let his ego get in the way of maybe trying to dissect what it is he can save out of this relationship. but now he's done it. now he's fucked it up in the most irredeemable way, and now claude will never let him repair the damage he's done.
but he has to try.
dimitri slips down the hall to his dorm, where a bottle rests, three roses in water blooming from the top teases him with a positivity he doesn't have right now. dimitri swipes it, an extra blanket, and a glass of water, returning to claude's bedside as quickly as he can without alerting anyone that he's awake. the roses go at his side, the blanket over his torso, and the glass of water where he can reach.
dimitri tangles his fingers in claude's, and that seems to break the dam in two. ]
claude... i'm so sorry. i'm sorry. i can't believe... no... no, i can. i can believe i did this. you were right to reject me, claude, you were right to save yourself from the likes of me. felix knows what he's talking about when he talks about me. i am wild. i am feral. i'm broken... duscur broke something in me, claude, and i'm like this, now. you were a fool to stay around me as long as you have, but...
[ a shaky inhale. he hopes claude stays unconscious for this. ]
but if anyone can find it in themselves to forgive me for my actions, i hope it's you. i hope you'll let me repair the damage i've done.
[ dimitri's head gently rests at the edge of the bed, closing his eyes, trying to channel every bit of remorse that he has into the tangle of their fingers, hoping that not all has been lost by his own reckless, selfish actions. he's broken many vases with his own fingers before, but none as beautiful, as priceless, as precious as claude. this seems to be par for the course for dimitri; making friends with people made of glass, made of porcelain, who need the most loving hands to carry them. they wind up in his, gentle at first, loving, polishing, touching, kissing. but gentle turns to smothering turns to crushing, quickly, in a matter of moments. even now, as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep, dimitri worries that his mere presence is enough to turn the pieces into dust, and enough to blow away in the wind. ]
that's the last thing he recalls. catherine, calling his name with an aggression he's never heard in her voice, red tinting the edges of his vision while his sight hones in on claude's unconscious form. he remembers being pulled away from him, tugged out of the picture and away from the bloody scene before him. he doesn't remember much else after that, blurred images of claude and catherine and even felix feeling distant and far away and like maybe he might be floating.
underneath the clouds, and the fuzziness, and the barely-there consciousness, he can hear claude's rejection still stinging him deep in his chest, the embarrassment, the way claude had wanted him to hurt-- anger dwells deep in dimitri's chest, swelling like a balloon, but slowly, air deflates out of it as he's removed from consciousness, the rage in him finally exhausting him to passing out.
the blood on his knuckles will be washed away, the rust-colored water staining the sink's white edges. his dizzy head will be laid on an infirmary bed, a cool cloth laid on his forehead. his bruises will be iced, though they are nowhere near as severe as the trauma that brings claude in after him, long after he's begun to doze and his heart rate has begun to calm. manuela will call for help cleaning up the wound, she'll re-set his nose, and she'll ice the bruising around his cheekbone.
hours will pass before dimitri finally comes around, his head still spinning. he's alone in the infirmary, or he thinks he is. he closes his eyes for a moment, and does his best to recall what had landed him here. he remembers flashes, embarrassment, claude, his green eyes, being alone, stinging in his chest-- but nothing concrete. in fact, there's a lot he can't remember, and that realization washes over him like a tidal wave.
he'd gotten angry. he'd been so embarrassed that he'd gotten ... more than angry. he'd let himself fall into a rage, and by the looks of the bed at his right, claude had taken the brunt of it. as dimitri unravels the events of the sparring session, the pieces begin to fall into place, completing the most fucked up puzzle in his head. he'd tried to kiss him and just been let down. he'd kicked him out. he'd let it fester and swirl and grow in his head into something big enough that lead him... here.
to this.
what has he done...?
dimitri carefully lifts himself out of the infirmary bed, his expression twisted into one of concern, guilt, regret. all of the above. he'd really let himself do this to himself, to claude, let his ego get in the way of maybe trying to dissect what it is he can save out of this relationship. but now he's done it. now he's fucked it up in the most irredeemable way, and now claude will never let him repair the damage he's done.
but he has to try.
dimitri slips down the hall to his dorm, where a bottle rests, three roses in water blooming from the top teases him with a positivity he doesn't have right now. dimitri swipes it, an extra blanket, and a glass of water, returning to claude's bedside as quickly as he can without alerting anyone that he's awake. the roses go at his side, the blanket over his torso, and the glass of water where he can reach.
dimitri tangles his fingers in claude's, and that seems to break the dam in two. ]
claude... i'm so sorry. i'm sorry. i can't believe... no... no, i can. i can believe i did this. you were right to reject me, claude, you were right to save yourself from the likes of me. felix knows what he's talking about when he talks about me. i am wild. i am feral. i'm broken... duscur broke something in me, claude, and i'm like this, now. you were a fool to stay around me as long as you have, but...
[ a shaky inhale. he hopes claude stays unconscious for this. ]
but if anyone can find it in themselves to forgive me for my actions, i hope it's you. i hope you'll let me repair the damage i've done.
[ dimitri's head gently rests at the edge of the bed, closing his eyes, trying to channel every bit of remorse that he has into the tangle of their fingers, hoping that not all has been lost by his own reckless, selfish actions. he's broken many vases with his own fingers before, but none as beautiful, as priceless, as precious as claude. this seems to be par for the course for dimitri; making friends with people made of glass, made of porcelain, who need the most loving hands to carry them. they wind up in his, gentle at first, loving, polishing, touching, kissing. but gentle turns to smothering turns to crushing, quickly, in a matter of moments. even now, as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep, dimitri worries that his mere presence is enough to turn the pieces into dust, and enough to blow away in the wind. ]
[ooc: A practiced and skilled healer with questionable and/or blunt bedside manners, and an absolutely abysmal patient. Would prefer to keep him as an angel for this. I'm good with him playing any role, though I have a slight preference for him as the caretaker, and I am always here for mutual healing! Canon current but can play him from any point in canon. Open to all, canon, crosscanon, assumed CR, etc.]
Charlie Bradbury | Supernatural | F/F for shipping, OTA for gen
walksonsunshine
2019-09-06 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ooc: Can be either the patient or the healer. Either way, she's making up as she goes! Open to all, canon, crosscanon, assumed CR, etc.]
[ooc: As a super soldier/clone/genetically enhanced person, he heals fairly easily but that doesn't mean he can't get hurt. Good for either role, he's a dumbass in any scenario, lbr. Open to canon, crosscanon, assumed CR, etc. and mutual healing sorts of situations!]
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