shahar, ziba.

violence has changed me. my body has grown cold like the stripped fields; now there is only my mind, cautious & wary, with the sense it is being tested.

[zibvs]

wolfgang.

          He initially responds with a huff of air, continuing with slowed rocking motions: month old infant silently cooing against his neck. The song had been stuck in his mind for the past weeks or so, though he never figured the hazy lyrics would be put to use.  ❛  Took an improv class in college— I want you to notice when I’m not around …  ❜  He begins, cutting off mid-sentence to keep the child appeased.  ❛  Teacher told me I was a natural— you’re so freaking special, I wish I was special.  ❜  He’s joking, mostly. Singing eventually morphs into humming, and he deems it safe to move back to the bed: baby in arms. He keeps it up for another few seconds before he tests the waters, going quiet and slowly running a hand against the infant’s back.  ❛  Voila.  ❜  Words are hushed, despite his gloating mannerisms – he didn’t trust the newfound silence. 

even in her absolute disbelief, ziba finds it within herself to roll dark hues at the ABSURDITY of it. radiohead? really? her skepticism is befitting to the situation, she concludes, and it’s not because it’s wolfgang’s doing. but it’s just a song and so she mulls over it, analyzes it with bells and whistles because she was not build to be a parent and he’s the best to take after. so, she thinks---- deciphers the data she’s given and determines is not as much the song itself as it is him, and how could it no be? because even between disbelief & signs of annoyance, she’s smiling. it’s wolfgang’s effect.  ‘  what do you know,  ’  she whispers, taking a seat by the edge of the bed.  ‘  ----- even more of a NERD that i initially pegged you for.  ’  and that’s saying a lot---- but it’s not something she’d change.  ‘  what else you got on your repertoire? showtunes? heavy metal that only includes high pitched screaming?  ’

[zibvs]

WOLFGANG.

          It was no different from college. It was no different from the hours he’d stay awake for the sake of finishing a chapter of a later scrapped manuscript. It was just a repetition of nights he’d experienced before, only addition: the cries of three infants. Another dose of, much needed, caffeine and he’d make the night his bitch. Or, at least, that had been a thought on his mind – even as he closed his eyes, near forgetting that one part of staying awake meant the opposite. Jolting awake at the sound of a whimpering child, gaze wandered to occupied cribs; attempting to locate the source. A gentle squeeze of Ziba’s thigh, and he rolled out of bed. Literally, rolled. Maybe he wasn’t quite as awake as he would’ve liked to think. Scooping an infant up into his arms, the, now second-nature, wagging back & forth began. Though the cries didn’t come to an end, and the male pulled the hem of a diaper back – finding nothing worthy of a change before him. Child’s features snuggled up against his neck, but the cries stayed prominent. And with that, absentminded humming began : and they faltered, for a moment.  ❛ …–  a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here ? I don’t belong here–  ❜  Humming turned quiet singing, Wolfgang rationalising that the vibrations soothed the smaller Baek.  ❛  –I don’t remember the rest …  ❜  Singsongy voice continued through his struggle to find the lyrics, though a sense of accomplishment washed over him.

ziba’s mental checklist repeats like a mantra: they’re fed, gas-free, have clean diapers, normal temperature, and if they could just---- SLEEP, then everything should be just dandy. but it doesn’t take long for sam to draw his knees up and clench his little fists, just a few seconds after he’s made it through the checklist. what was she missing? their basic needs have been fulfilled, and although she forgets to voice her gratitude as a drowsy wolfgang falls off the bed, he buys her a few more seconds to THINK. parenting stamped in endless pages would come in really handy right now.

her train of thought, however, is a process that comes to a halt the second he starts to---- sing. at a time like this. unbelievable.  ‘  REALLY?  ’  she manages to mouth & shout at the same time, somehow, and she’s ready to practice her scolding skills on him until ----- MAGICALLY ----- it works.  ‘  you’ve got to be kidding me... ’  she mutters to herself, rocking her baby back and forth, stalling the inevitable.  ‘  what parenting book what that in?  ’

[zibvs]

@wclfies !

it’s dark outside---- that’s all she knows. what time, precisely? sleep o’clock. every concept that gets close to a good night sleep has been erased, and although it didn’t catch her off guard, it felt as though no warning compared to reality. exhaustion was ever present on otherwise bewitching features, even more so after feeding carrie and anthony. with sam in her arms, her head drops in defeat, sharing a look with wolfgang as one of the babies starts crying, which means that the other one is soon to follow. 

‘  come on, kids. you should be asleep by now!  ’   when are they supposed to learn how to fully communicate again? grimacing, she turns to wolfgang.  ‘  is it burps? maybe check their diapers again?  ’ 

[zibvs]

❖ how much do you ˡᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵛᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉ wolfie

“  i----- don’t.  ”

[zibvs]

❖ if you could have named ur babies and wolfie had no say, what wld u have named them. what abt 'stabmarty96' i think it has a nice ring

“  i sure as hell would not have named anything remotely related to marty gilford. in fact, if he ever as much as blinks my kids’ way? i’m gonna stab him ninety-six times, in your name ; a few more, just for good measure. that aside, i would’ve picked practical names, like, hugo, paco and luisa. bad choices, so i’m glad i didn’t have to do this alone.  ”

[zibvs]

WOLFGANG.

he doesn’t want to think about it. and even as he attempts to push the thought out of his head, she brings it back – forcing him into considering a feared concept. WITHOUT HER; did any of it matter ? would it ever ? the idea beats like a hammer onto his chest, and the possibility that he might favour her over his own flesh & blood causes guilt to build up. lips pressed into a thin line and eyes were kept on the road ahead. 

     ❛    yeah … eyes on them.   ❜

wolfgang spoke in repetition, choosing to direct his field of vision straight ahead from now on. he still felt the warmth of the other between his fingers, and that was enough to keep him grounded; to feel as if everything wasn’t a vivid delusion brought on by beer & sleep deprivation. the brunet stays quiet, at least for the remainder of the drive – ziba’s words drilling into his skull despite his best efforts. and it wasn’t until he pulled up in front of the memorial that his gaze met hers again. 

   ❛   you ready ?   ❜

she’s never known MERCY ; not only because cruelty was engraved in her dna as an oh so forbearing second nature. every wrongdoing had its own impending retribution, for she never cared enough to grant absolution. but then he compromises, and he is to honor the wishes of the mother of his children, and it is in his not-so-assured agreement, and the silence that weighs heavy in the car, that she realizes this, her grim request of choosing them over her, should his choice be amiss, is the one thing ziba would never, EVER forgive. he knows-----she thinks he does, anyway, so she ceases to insist.

the amount of air she inhales morphs into RESILENCE as her gaze locks with his and she nods, her own body trying to dominate the waves of the pain of each contraction. she brings her forehead to his shoulder for a brief moment as she gives another hand squeeze, and allows her senses to dwell in him, as if she were drawing strength from his mere existence.

‘  let’s have our babies.  ’  

[zibvs]

DAPHNE.

daphne watched as the elder removed her sloppily applied bandaids, making sure not to move her hands too much & risk her cuts & bruises being touched. ‘’ i guess i’ll know to try duct tape next time; maybe it’ll stay on better than these bandaids that fall off every ten seconds. —– – if i lost my hands i’d have to find NEW ways to read books. i suppose i could always try flipping the pages with my feet. ‘’

her comment draws a smile on graceful features as she begins to clean her wounds, one by one with utmost delicacy.  ‘  well, you don’t strike me as the kind of kid that would let something as insignificant as losing your hands stop her from kickin’ ass---- much less reading a book. if there’s anyone that can, it’s you.  ’  

[zibvs]

WOLFGANG.

with hand placed on the stick shift, he didn’t register her words; sure, he was LISTENING. but the gravity of which they held didn’t sink until much later, not until after they were already backed out of the driveway. and by the time he realised their meaning ? his mind went a speed that surpassed the one of their vehicle. it hadn’t occurred to him that there was a possible danger that awaited his girlfriend. slowing down, only a fraction, at the sight of a red light before flooring it once more, wolfie took the opportunity to glance her way. as dark tones returned to the road ahead, free hand sought out hers; digits intertwining. 

     ❛    it’ll be fine. they’ll be fine, and you––– just BREATHE, okay ?   ❜

in her mind, there’s no space for fear or worry, nor there is a place for excitement. ziba knows what she has to do, and how she is supposed to approach this situation. in terms she could understand, this was a mission ; one that was nearing its end with all chances of succeeding in favor, even as the increasing intensity of pain coursing through her body threatened it to spiral down into something unstable. that mission, all in all, did not include her.

‘  but if it’s not----  ’  she chimes in,  ‘  promise me,  ’  and she does listen to him, breathing in and out as she sets an order,  ‘  eyes on THEM.  ’   the earnestness in her voice is borderline ominous, though not on purpose. so, before another contraction drills through her bones, and after reading his expression, she attempts to ease his mind ; squeezing his hand.  ‘  i’ve survived worse.  ’ 

[zibvs]

DAPHNE.

daphne looked at her own hands clumsily covered in band-aids she hadn’t taken the time to take care of & then back towards the elder with a sheepish smile. ‘’ if you wouldn’t mind. —- – i’ve sort of been taking care of them by myself. didn’t want to spoil the surprise or anything so i didn’t tell anyone. ‘’ 

one by one, and in a gentle manner, ziba removes daphne’s band-aids, careful not to touch any of her wounds directly.  ‘  you know, i’ve had my fair share with stitching myself up back in the day, and i can, without a doubt, say that duct tape’s a LIFESAVER,  so you’re on... sort of, above average hands. worst thing that could happen? you’d lose your hands, but you’d live.  ’

[zibvs]

WOLFGANG.

he follows her orders; a shaky hand running through raven hair as he attempts to remember the location of every necessary item. he should’ve been more prepared. even with bags packed & books read, he should’ve been more prepared. though dwelling in the past does little as he rushes through the residence, grabbing everything that they may ( or may not. who even knows anymore ? ) need. pack tossed over his shoulder and arms wrapped around various items, wolfgang was outside the home & inside the vehicle in a few minutes. could’ve gone faster had he not dropped about fifteen things on his way out, but i digress. 

   ❛   we’re good to go ? and you don’t NEED anything ? you’re sure ? like … are you–– ‘ contracting. ’ do yo have contractions ?   ❜

stalwart digits grip at car handle as a sudden burst of pain courses through the lower part of her body. it’s a pain that cannot be compared to anything she’s ever felt before, but manages to endure just fine. for now, at least. by the time wolfgang returns, the seatbelt has secured her position in the car, but it’s not until he’s sitting right next to her that she feels RELIEVED. 

‘  yeah, just----- just hit the gas. i’m----  ’  contracting. the pressure in her lower abdomen silences her for a short moment; and with a deep exhale, she forces her head back into the situation at hand, and the decisions she has yet to take.  ‘  ---- that was... thirty seconds, give or take.  ’  words coming out between breaths, fingertips find her temples as she tries to anticipate the triplet’s conception and prepare HIM, above all.  ‘  chances are, i’ll have a c-section. not what i want, but... it’s safer for them. you go with them. WHATEVER happens, WHEREVER they take them. you go with them, and you don’t leave them outta your sight. can’t trust anyone, especially when there’s still an asshole in a bunny costume out there.  ’

[spencerhastinghs-deactivated201]

[toomucharitime]

‘Stitchers’ Season 3 Promo

[leethompkins-old-deactivated202]

[presidentmenace]

[inthenameofsephiroth]

[janefondalesbian-archive-deacti]

sestra, can i say something? yeah, yeah.

[zibvs]

WOLFGANG.

his attention is directed towards the television set; channel set on some old movie he swore he’d seen before, though couldn’t quite put his finger on. gaze only shifts for a second upon her initial words, the mystery of the foreign film CURRENTLY of more importance. HE KNEW IT FROM SOMEWHERE. her second statement is what brought his focus back to ziba, and eyes widened as they fell down onto the no longer growing abdomen. pushing himself out of the comfort of the couch, he rushed to her side. 

    ❛   you’re … RIGHT NOW ? you’re –– it’s happening … it’s REALLY happening. okay, no problem ! not at all. we’re just–– we’re having– you’re having–– SHIT. i mean, fuck … JESUS. we gotta go. are you okay ? do you need––  fuck.   ❜

groomed brows knit together as a dull discomfort rivets on her back. it takes her by surprise, but doesn’t let focus fade. fluid trickles between her legs with every step she takes, so she chooses not to move any further, gathering her thoughts and coming up with their next move. 

‘  wolfie, i’m FINE. no pain yet. they’re not gonna----- slide down from my vagina. i’m not a WATER SLIDE. ’  just the reaction she was prepared for. although it is met with a subtle eye-roll regardless. ‘  we have the bags ready----- everything’s ready, so go get ‘em while i get in the car, okay?  ------- and bring me my sandwich! it’s in the kitchen. ’  without further waiting, leisure footsteps lead her to the vehicle.