#nervecheck

“Allora--” he began, pausing to screw his eyes shut tight against the dull, throbbing headache pounding away at his skull. It was hard to focus, and the seemingly endless, monochrome hallways of the castle did nothing to ground him. Nastasia herself provided the only break from the dark expanse of their surroundings, and Mr. L made sure to stick close behind her; the last thing he wanted was to get lost here on his first day when everything was already so awfully confusing. 

He felt strongly about certain things, like the fact that he belonged here, that he was being given a rare and wonderful opportunity to be a part of something new and important-- the sort of thing that couldn’t be ignored, couldn’t leave him forgotten or overlooked. He felt strongly that the count deserved all the respect Mr. L already had for him. He felt strongly that great things awaited him just around the corner.

But he felt uncertainty, too, nagging at him in the back of his mind. It was hard to just pick up and continue on with his life without any past knowledge or experience from which to draw.

He was so lucky to have someone here to help guide him. He didn’t know Nastasia all that well, yet, but he was already certain that he’d be lost without her.

“Thanks again. For-- all of this.” Mr. L gestured vaguely, moving a little more quickly to keep pace with his companion. She seemed like a busy woman; it was considerate of her to take the time out of her day to help him adjust. He could have eventually handled it all on his own, he was sure, but it was nice not to have to.

“What’s first on the agenda?” Despite his doubts, Mr. L was eager to get started. His missing memories didn’t matter, and he refused to let them hold him back; whatever had happened, he was here now, and there was an insistent itch in his mind to make the most of that fact that was impossible to ignore.

He was Mr. L, she was Nastasia, and they were the assistants of Count Bleck. 

caring for stubborn muses. / accepting.

       ❛ konstantin, i’m literally giving you 10 seconds to put me down before i take off another one of your fingers. i’m serious. ❜

       maybe this would sound more threatening if it wasn’t coming from a girl currently slung over his shoulder ( and he picked her up from the ground, how much more fucking embarrassing can things get? ), but there’s only so much alina can do in her current position. she groans, pounding her fists against his back despite how much it makes her feel like a toddler having a tantrum. 

       ❛ seriously, put me down. i’m fucking fine, okay? ❜ and to prove it, she attempts to kick at his legs, but she doesn’t get too far, freezing the second her left leg moves, a burst of white-hot pain crackling through to her core. a traitorous whimper of pain slips out of her mouth, immediately followed by a whispered curse, and she squeezes her eyes shut through laboured breaths. god fucking damn it. she digs her nails into the skin of her palms as she grits her teeth, letting out a slow, strained breath as she pictures throwing her fucking knife right into volkov’s stupid fucking face over and over again until she feels the goddamn bear trap on her leg slowly release. she relaxes her hands, letting them flop open against konstantin’s back as she stares at the angry red half-moons left in her palms. 

@nervecheck​ !  “you are the best thing about this place.”

there was nothing that had warmed his heart more than those words, reassured him that despite all the trouble that he had gotten himself into with working for aperture science, that there was someone there worth staying. it had always been caroline and it would always be caroline, even if she insisted on calling him richard despite telling her time and time again that it was rick.

even if she would never feel the same.

"i... i’m afraid i don’t know what to say, miss caroline...” what is it that he could possibly say that would accurately explain how he felt? how his lips tugged up into a genuine smile that he knew he would be wearing for the next week? she had managed to render him, out of all people, completely and utterly speechless.

It was rare for Jughead to apologize for a mess or state of untidiness, but he did when Aimee stepped into the small living room of his little house. He hastily moved from books off a chair and a pizza box off the coffee table, sliding it across the kitchen counter towards the bin. “You want something to drink? Grape soda?”

catch my muse being a loner. / accepting. / @nervecheck

08. at a hilltop watching the sunrise.

       this has become a habit of hers, though she’s not quite sure when it began. 

       not particularly this, on second thought, though. or so she figures. she’s usually content to watch the stars from her window, or sometimes the garden, surrounded by the flowers. on occasion, she’ll climb up to the roof wrapped up in a blanket, feeling so close to the stars that she sometimes felt she could reach out and touch them.

       but that wasn’t enough tonight. her chest still ached, and the swirling, uncomfortable something in her gut didn’t fade the way it usually did. 

       ( sonya doesn’t want to admit it, but there’s a small voice in the back of her mind that suggests it may have something to do with the conversation she’d had with natasha only hours before. natasha may have been physically healed by now, but the rift between them that had torn open when her dear cousin had ripped at her heartstrings, burning the wound with the venom lacing her words — that hadn’t healed yet. they’ve forgiven each other, and yet — it still feels like there’s a chasm between them. )

       she wasn’t quite sure what it was that had tugged her away from the house to a hill when she’d decided fresh air might help, rather than her usual instinct to stay close, but she’s glad she listened to it. it was as if whatever had coiled itself around her insides slowly unraveled with every step she took away from the house, and she’d found herself running, dress hiked up to her knees and normally tidily tied up hair blowing out wildly behind her. she didn’t realize it at the time, but she’d been smiling. 

       and she was still smiling when she reached the top of the hill, breathlessly staring up at the moon and her stars, somehow closer than ever. she all but dropped down to the grass, barely noticing the dew seeping in through the thin fabric of her dress.

       and hours later, sonya still sits, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tight around them, coat discarded in the grass despite the chill of the early autumn morning. had it not been for the slow rise of the sun in the horizon, warm light peeking through the blanket of night, she’s not sure she would’ve realized how long she’d been there. there’s no harm in staying to watch the sunrise before she finally returns home, she figures — it’s been so long since she’s seen one. she’s lost in the shifting colours of the sky when she’s pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind her before a body sits down next to her, and she blinks in surprise when she turns and recognizes who it is instantly. the look in his eyes insinuates that he may not have slept through the night either.

send me your url and i’ll post 3-5 icons that sum up my muse’s feelings on yours. @nervecheck​!

derry girls. / accepting. 

       ❛ you… did? ❜ well, that’s an interesting development. sabrina runs her hands through her hair, fingers tangling in the white locks as she considers the girl in front of her. harley’s been through — some unique experiences, to say the least. sabrina had considered that there was a chance harley would come back as something a little less than human, but she’d mostly dismissed the idea once the spell had been finished and there was a very human looking girl left laying on the ground of the woods. she’d been too tired in the moment to really notice anything ( really, she still isn’t totally sure of anything that happened in the immediate 48 hours after harley’s return ), but her aunties hadn’t mentioned anything and noah hadn’t hinted that there was anything different about the harley he remembered. 

      but this? this changes things. the two of them stand on the sidewalk, sabrina’s heart still racing and harley’s hand still grasping her arm with that iron grip she’d used to pull her out of the way of a speeding car — something sabrina should’ve been aware of ( something she’s trying her best not to kick herself for, for being so distracted something like that had slipped her mind ) and something that should’ve been too fast for harley to react to in time. even through the buzzing in sabrina’s mind, she can sense a something radiating from harley, and she’s surprised she hasn’t noticed it until now. a part of her wonders if maybe it hadn’t been there until now. 

“I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.” Well, that wasn’t quite true -- he’d only known her for a few months, but the sentiment remained. “Not the chair part, but the rest,” he added, a wise cant to his head as he nodded seriously, a faux expression of sage understanding. It only lasted a moment longer before his lips started to wiggle with amusement towards his friend. She was a breath of fresh air, he’d thought that from the moment he’d met her, her chipper voice and sunny smile casting a strange warmth all around her. He offered a similar smile in return in attempts to bolster her confidence a little. If you asked Jughead, she was one of the most decent people around. There was a kindness that emanated from her, that existed in the purest form, deep down in her soul. Kind people seemed far and few between in this world, and he would never look upon it as weakness or something deemed uninteresting. It was the fact that she was a good natured person that he was drawn to her at all -- it was easy to be an asshole, and far harder to be what she was. He respected the hell out of her for that. They may have had different views on romantic love, but as far as love in general went, he could never tell her to stop feeling it. “Did something happen? Do I have to have words with someone?”