The Doctor Doesn't Give A Shit

Saito Yusei.

[surgiqual-a-blog]

saito yusei. fandomless oc. the doctor that's as tall as he is salty.

Moved to a real blog instead of a side blog---everything will be continued over here!

[surgiqual-a-blog]

@candycrxsh

The suit wearing man could care less about the nature of the cafe---after

pulling two all-nighters he’s hungry & wants food. Dark circles under his

eyes are the most prominent sign of his exhaustion, but a small yawn he

covers with slender fingers comes before he’s able to address the server.

“Mm...yeah, coffee’d be nice. Thank you.” He smiles, though eyes remain

distant. “What’s your name---? I forgot my glasses.” He assumes there’s

a name somewhere on that uniform...not that he can read it.

[surgiqual-a-blog]

unruhc:

                    Not connecting the question of how long he had lived on the island with the out of place fact that he’s yet to try green tea, Noiz gave an careless answer.     ❝ Four or five years. ❞     He couldn’t recall exactly, though he was sure it was one of the two. Time passed oddly for him. Never feeling the sting of hunger, meal times were negligible. Not comprehending physical exhaustion, nighttime seemed like an extension of the day. The normal, everyday cues human bodies gave off to denote time passing were lost on Noiz, so time seemed inconsequential & unremarkable. 

                   As the doctor rambled on about the specifics of tea, Noiz took another sip of the sludge in his cup. It wasn’t bad, he mused, it was just different. No light, floral tones of the fruit types he was used to, this green variety seemed flat & lifeless; it died on his tongue & left something bitter in it’s wake.     ❝ Chai … ❞     Noiz repeated again in that same thoughtful tone when he had encountered green tea. He shrugged shallowly soon after, amending his almost questioning word.     ❝ Black’s alright … But I don’t drink tea a lot. ❞     Which was an honest truth, even if it didn’t answer Saito’s question directly.

                   Sighing through his nose in his typical way as the doctor teased both him & Alexie in the same breath, he was content to be ambiguously insulted at that jab     …     until Saito mentioned Rhyme. Pale green eyes suddenly lit with interest glanced first at the doctor before navigating back to stare at the Allmate across the room. Alexie made that ?     A cat-type     …     It was a stark contrast to the Russian’s own Allmate who continuously argued that it, too, had human qualities. Which was preposterous     …     though that train of though would only agitate him right now.

                   Stare finding it’s way back to the doctor, Noiz suddenly looked him up & down, appraising him. The final conclusion was that he wouldn’t fit in with the Rhyme scene in the slightest & that it was most likely for the best that he never got into it. Saito was a stuffy old professional, & while Noiz saw his own information broking as a business, he couldn’t imagine a man like Saito breaking into homes, blackmailing, & covered in blood by the end of the day. At last, Noiz’s eyes fell to the floor again; a pause followed before he responded with another truthful opinion.     ❝ That’s probably for the best. ❞

“Surprising that you haven’t had it... Well, maybe not? Alexei says you’re a real neet.” It wasn’t an insult, but an observation---Noiz had not given him a reason to be insulting. While he was off the clock, his allmate would keep track of the time. At 5:15 PM Rin would tell him that it was almost time to open back up. At exactly 5:30 the front of his house would be packed with people young & old, doors would open, and it would remain busy until he closed later in the evening.

“It’s a milk tea...a little spicy. Some make it really sweet. Not enough to melt your tongue off, but enough to give it rich flavor.” Chai was up there among his favorite things to drink. “S’made from a black tea.” He added, taking a final sip of his own. He paused as he waited for the young male’s answer about Rhyme. The male’s gaze scraped up and down his form. It felt like someone was cutting him open with a butter knife instead of a scalpel.

“...hah.” It was a soft, small laugh. More so meant for himself than Noiz. The kid really must think he’s just all washed up. “There is a term ‘judging a book by its cover’. Though you seem to be the type that has no patience for casual players.”  From across the room, Rin’s ears twitched and then flopped to the side. No, there would be no playing Rhyme now---and Saito was a little thankful for that.

Saito took the kettle and filled his own cup once more. To the brim, as always---the doctor never had trouble with spilling. Steady hands were something that a doctor could not afford to not have. “Would you like another?” He hadn’t been paying attention to if Noiz had been drinking the rather disgusting looking brew he’d made. The offer came naturally to a man that was used to inviting friends over to his home.

[ereans]

[surgiqual-a-blog]

rolls the neet into ur askbox for a smooch

Noiz holds onto his blazer tightly as Saito drags his nails along his scalp. When their lips meet it feels more like a war--- This time it’s Saito stained with red, coming back from a hit that he never wanted to do in the first place. It’s the antithesis of his entire being, taking lives, but it scares him now. He feels so incredibly numb and it takes Noiz biting down on his lower lip so hard that it bleeds for him to come back to reality.

When they part, Saito stares him in the eyes, but it feels more as if he’s being looked through. Right now he may as well be made of glass. The usually adamant doctor has become something---or someone---else entirely.  “It doesn’t suit you.” Noiz’s voice feels cold as steel, but Saito knows that he is concerned. The blond presses a hand gently to the gash across Saito’s throat. It had finally stopped bleeding, but only after pressure was applied for what seemed like an eternity.

“Noiz, I---” But then Noiz is kissing him again, this time slower, and Saito parts his mouth automatically. He’s lost quite a bit of blood; he feels cold. Yet Noiz lights a fire in him with every touch and every breathy moan. Saito wraps his arms around Noiz’s waist, eyes shutting tight as he savor’s the way that Noiz’s chest presses against his.

None of it matters. So long as he’s with me, I’ll be okay.

[wearethegenesis-deactivated2016]

FIRST THREE IN MY INBOX GET KISSES

[compelledbybooks]

I burn, I freeze; I am never warm. I am rigid; I forgot softness because it did not serve me.

Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente (via compelledbybooks)

[iesuuyr-deactivated20210106]

heavy rain this morning by Charlie Brown

[strahlee-maedchen]

[unruhc-archived]

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( surgiqual )

walk in on my muse changing their clothes| Accepting

                    This isn’t the first time he’s been found waiting on Saito’s doorsteps like a wounded puppy looking for shelter – actually, that’s almost exactly what he’s like in these instances. Covered in blood most times, clothes torn & skin shredded, Noiz was oblivious to just how injured he was, but it didn’t really matter. It was almost just another excuse to turn up at the doctor’s home. Though did he really need one ?     …

                   As usual, Saito had groaned in annoyance as he ushered the damaged teen into his home, quickly gesturing for him to find a seat on the couch as he went to gather the mass amount of supplies he would assume needed. Noiz complied, not wanting to be more of an inconvenience than he already was. Silently, he pulled his shirt off, disregarding the large tear in his skin running up his shoulder. Tossing it on the neatly arranged coffee table, he waited the few moments it took for the doctor to return, doing his best to sit up & avoid getting blood on Saito’s clean couch.

                   Noiz’s head lolled to the side in a mostly apathetic gesture as the doctor sat heavily down next to him & immediately began poking at the gash. Saito hissed softly, as though to emulate the pain that should have been felt, mumbling a quiet     ‘This looks painful…’     with the useless gesture. Without thinking, Noiz shrugged, earning a glare from the older man.     ❝I didn’t even notice it until I was walking home…❞     He admitted, pale green eyes staring off to the side – Noiz missed the sad smile Saito gave him before beginning to properly tend to the wound.

                   Nearly an hour passed then, the time spent by the doctor meticulously cleaning & then stitching Noiz’s shredded skin back together. He felt guilty     –     he always did     –     but Saito never seemed to mind this much outside of his almost teasing complaints. With a sigh, the doctor leaned back to observe his work; Noiz sat up straight as he took that signal.     ❝ Done ?❞     The teen asked in a tired tone, to which Saito, already regathering his supplies to be put away, replied with a simple nod. Though the movement was soon amended as Saito glanced at the bloody & ruined shirt on the coffee table.     ‘I’ve extra shirts you can use.’     Noiz’s mouth opened as though he planned on arguing against that notion, though just as quickly his lips sealed. He couldn’t walk home shirtless, after all. He’d make sure to wash it & bring it back to Saito when he could.

                   ‘I’ll set it on the bed. Go ahead & change while I finish tidying up.’     With that, the doctor abandoned the used medical supplies lining the couch & disappeared up the spiraling staircase. For lack of anything better to do during the lull, Noiz turned his head & lifted his arm to observe the doctor’s stitch work. It was better than anything he could’ve done, even after the years of self practice he’s had. The translucent thread pulled tight against his skin & pierced it neatly, intertwining & coming to an end somewhere inside the wound just above his elbow. It was seamless; mindlessly, Noiz traced down the red, puffy line. Almost like an abstract art     –     in the same space that body modifications in general would be. He knew something like this would leave a pretty nasty scar     …     though he has plenty of those by now. They’re almost like tattoos, in a way.

                   Hearing Saito’s descending footsteps, Noiz dropped his arm & hand like a child caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. Though for all he knew, the doctor would chew him out for touching the fresh stitches     …     he wouldn’t put it passed the grumpy old man.     ‘I’d offer help putting it on but I know you’ll refuse …’     Again Noiz exhaled from his nose as he pushed himself to stand, though the sound this time was akin to amusement.     ❝You got it, old man.❞     Agitated, Saito sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose as Noiz walked passed. 

                   Sluggishly, out of pure mental exhaustion from the day that felt like it was going on for too long, Noiz climbed the circling stairs before finding his way to the doctor’s room. He paid no mind to the decor, walking purposefully over to the bed where, as promised, there lay a long sleeved shirt. Almost intrusively, Noiz sat himself down on the edge of the bed, picking the piece of clothing up & staring down at it. 

                   Curiously, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to feel it, Noiz rolled the fabric in his hands; was it soft ?     Without thinking, he brought it up to his lips, pressing it against the healthy skin of his mouth out of habit     …     It really was soft.     …It reminded him of the clothing his mother wore; when he would tug boldly at the hem of her shirt before burying his face against her thigh, crying for attention     –     this was the fabric he had felt, even back then against his lips.

                   A heavy sort of feeling suddenly rolled through his chest at that association     …     though he didn’t have a word for it. Letting his eyes close, he pressed the clothing closer to his face, letting it brush against his nose as he inhaled quietly. It didn’t smell like anything. Of course it didn’t, he reminded himself, he can’t smell after all. Would it have smelt like Saito, he wondered     …     or maybe his mind would have played tricks on him & infused his mother’s scent just then. 

                   It was a useless thing to wonder, what either of them smelt like. Even if names were given to identify the scents, he’d be ignorant to what the description entailed. It didn’t matter. At least he could feel this soft connection through his lips right then     –     the sole connection to the world he had & he was grateful for it. Genuinely     …     in this moment, at least.

                   So absorbed in the tightness of his chest that he fed with the reminiscent feeling of the shirt pressed against his lips, Noiz was unwise to the obvious sound of Saito climbing the stairs     …     opening the door     …     until his name was called after a throat clearing cough. Sudden embarrassment flushing his pale cheeks, Noiz dropped the clothing onto his lap, though it fell to the floor as he reflexively stood up. What had that scene looked like ?     …    Noiz didn’t want to think about that. Eyes staring down & to the side, he prayed Saito would say something first, other than his name, to clear the awkward air. 

                   ‘…I came in to ask if you’d like some tea.’     The doctor’s voice cut with an obtuse volume through the staleness; if Noiz had lesser nerves, he’d have flinched. Instantly the teen began shaking his head & taking steps around Saito.     ❝ N–no, it’s fine. I’m … leaving.❞     He didn’t understand it     –     why did his face feel so hot ? Why did he feel so … so … like he wanted to          scream     …     Haphazardly Noiz snatched his ruined shirt off the coffee table before barging out the door.

                   What was this feeling ?     Why did he hate it so much ?     It was like his feet couldn’t slam against the concrete hard enough. Like his breath couldn’t reach as deep as it needed to sate his lungs. If he did scream, he doubted it’d be loud enough. He didn’t understand. He didn’t get it.          He didn’t get it he dIDN’T GET IT HE DIDN    –

[sleepynr]

Fan Art | Viktor Nikiforov

[surgiqual-a-blog]

@blessedstarchild

“Listen...am I high?” He hasn’t popped pills in a while, but this person

has goat feet & a horn? Also elf ears??? He’s a doctor and all, but he’s

never seen body modification like this. “Also, what is this Rift place?

What the fuck is that?” Points at a Poro.

[surgiqual-a-blog]

@lifebearing

“Your blood pressure is...incredibly low. You’re lucky I decided to

take a walk---and if you don’t mind, I’ll be carrying you to my practice

so I can give you proper treatment.” Well, he will even if the small youth

does mind. It’s his job, after all, and it goes against the oath to leave an

ill person in the cold. “Saito Yu. I’m a doctor that specializes in nanotech.

What’s your name?” Idle chatter will keep the boy lucid---at least he hopes

so.

[surgiqual-a-blog]

blanksuggestions:

It’s either apathy or so much fear.

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unruhc:

                    He took Saito’s cue & began delicately dropping cube after cube of sugar into his own cup after the doctor filled it halfway for him. His eyes stayed down, seeming focused on the task of watching each square fall through the liquid & melt at the bottom. As a third was dropped, Noiz responded with a clear     ❝ Nope, ❞     to Saito’s question of whether or not he’s had this particular brand of tea. Noiz didn’t think much on if that made him weird or not … mostly because he couldn’t imagine why it would. One more was placed before he reached for the creamer, listening to the rest of the doctor’s observations.

                    Vaguely Noiz felt insulted, though unjustly so he supposed. Saito was right – if he had really been against coming here, he wouldn’t have shown up. Though Noiz was ignorant to how that correlated with his age … Was he automatically rude because he was young ?     He mused on that as the rest of his cup was filled with the creamer, leaving a very thick & diluted tea-like substance in it’s wake. Neglecting to stir it first, as he was long taught to do, Noiz soon brought the cup to his lips & took a thoughtful sip. With the added coolness of the creamer, the temperature was warm, not hot as it slid passed his tongue & was swallowed. An apathetic expression was left on his face as he mumbled a useless opinion.     ❝ … Bitter. ❞

                    Setting the drink back down on the coffee table, Noiz paused at the doctor’s question. Sex … drugs … those were all apt descriptions of their day to day lives but … rock ‘n roll ?     He’d pretend to know what that was to spare himself the embarrassment of asking.     ❝ Not much. ❞     Which was accurate, if he was honest. Days passed lazily with both of them attending to their own social spheres & activities. Eventually he had gotten over the disconnect between who Noiz had become & who Wilhelm was around his childhood friend. It all seemed to even out over time after a brief adjustment period.

“...how long have you lived in Japan, then?” It’d make more sense if he hadn’t lived there for long, anyways. A staple drink and he hadn’t tried it...the kid was definitely a neet. Alexei had told him that much, but it was becoming more and more apparent. Saito watched as he put a disgusting amount of cream & sugar into the tea. Good Gods, it didn’t even really count as tea now, did it? 

“Black tea is far worse, but that’s more a European beverage. I prefer green and chai---I should probably try something new. What do you like?” It was a good way to make sure that he had something to Noiz’s preference. If there was a next time, he didn’t want to have to watch him maim perfectly good tea. Saito took another sip and shrugged. 

“Are you two sure you’re not the old ones?” He was teasing---no harm in a bit of teasing. “Kidding, kidding. You like Rhyme, right? Alexei made my Allmate so it’d be good at Rhyme, but never got into it myself.” He motioned toward a black cat that was curled up on top of the piano, basking in the sun. Rin acted more more like a cat than he ever thought possible, though the allmate seemed to prefer being lazy. 

[pullingonthestrings-blog]

Send 'Mother's touch' for my muse's mother

[surgiqual-a-blog]

pullingonthestrings:

[surgiqual-a-blog]

unruhc:

                    Tea wasn’t something Noiz had very often anymore; after a few incidents as a child, & even after running away to the island, in which his tongue was scolded & turned numb for much longer than he’d have liked, he had naturally gravitated towards cold drinks over the years. Though when he would have tea, rare as it was, Noiz preferred the fruit types of his childhood. Not for a sentimental reason of any kind, but for a simple preference perhaps garnered by his nationality. 

                   ❝ Green … ❞     Noiz repeated in an observant tone, blinking over at Saito as the doctor sat himself down in this brief pause. That’s a type he’s never heard of nor tried before, he mused as his eyes gravitated to the neat display of creamer & sugar cubes. A new kind of hesitancy flowed over him – though he knew himself well enough that, even if he disliked the taste, he’d end up drinking it regardless. It’d be inconvenient if he refused & while being a bother was something ingrained in his blood, it was something he attempted to avoid at least.

                   Noiz’s eyes followed Saito as he crossed back into the kitchen & brought out the delicately steaming kettle. The scent currently wafting from it would go inexperienced – smells, in general, were lost of the anosmic teen. Though Noiz would assume that the smell of this ‘Green tea’ was different from how the fruity teas that he preferred smelled – even if those were ones he was also ignorant to. Awkwardly he shifted on the couch as the doctor sat down once more, watching still with an almost uneasy expression as the table was tidied. What was the point in that ? The kettle, creamer, & bowl had fit just fine without rearranging everything …

                   ❝ … Ahh – ❞     Even with that explanation, Noiz was still having a difficult time grasping two things; firstly, why Saito would invite him here at all, & why he was shocked at his acceptance. Typically, Noiz’s eyes glanced down & to the side as his voice continued after a moment.     ❝ It would’ve been rude of me if … I said no. Since you’re Alexie’s friend & all … ❞     Though that was very much a white lie & not at all the reason why he had actually showed up. It was a good enough excuse, however, & a lot more painless than giving the truth for once.

Tea was something that Saito had morning, noon, and night. Over the years it became an integral part of his life. When he was little he remembered his mother saving the used bags to be reused & reused until there was no flavor left. He picked up the habit, though he tended to only do it once. It wasn’t that Saito was stingy, he just disliked throwing things away when they still served their purpose. The second time around, he simply let the tea steep for a little longer.

“...have you never had it?” How long had the kid been in Japan? He said it like it was some foreign thing. Weird. Leave it to the white boy to not know what it was! Not like it mattered. He’d have it soon enough, tried it or not. When the tea was ready he poured his own to the brim & Noiz’s half full.  Saito figured he’d shove whatever else he wanted into it himself. Much as he liked to be a good host, he didn’t want to be overbearing.

“You’re young---I’m sure if you really found be distasteful, you would have declined.” A pause as he blew on his on steaming cup. “Or just not showed up at all.” Saito smirked. “I know how the game is played---old as I may be.” The first sip he took near scalded him, as per usual, but he had waited long enough for the pain to be bearable. He wasn’t sure why he let it sting his mouth, he just knew that’s what he’d watched his mom do. Wait just long enough for it to not injure oneself. 

“What have you two been up to? Besides ‘sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll” as Alexei so aptly puts it.” Alexei never answered him seriously and when he did it was always because he had  bad news. Asshole.  Saito took another sip. After he swallowed came a soft sigh of contentment as the warmth pooled in his stomach. Yes. This was what life was all about.