#Also I'm sick and have a fever good lord help me

[astretheraven]

Can't wait to write my DNF fanfic with king!George, assassin!Dream, assassination attempt, major character death, bad ending, smut, knife kink.

I am so sorry.

Maybe.

I'm sorry for taking too much time actually, nothing else.

[star-writr]

Fever Dreams

Hello!! Just a short drabble while i work on my requests. enjoy!!

Homunyxch wasn't an interesting planet. On any normal occasion, the Doctor would've just set his course for somewhere else without even stepping off the TARDIS. That time, however, had been the first time he had ended up there since beginning his travels with you, and you had insisted. Against all expectations, trouble had followed you and the Doctor on the rocky shores of Homunyxch, giving you another day of adventures. Once back on the spaceship, though, you'd started to feel quite sick.

Stranded on the seat next to the console, your hands gripping the leather in an attempt to focus only on tightening their grip rather than the headache which was slowly making the veins on your forehead bigger and your blood circulation faster, you could faintly hear the Doctor express his satisfaction with the most recent events. You would've loved to listen to him ramble, but you were covered in sweat and your legs were killing you.

"Doctor," you called, your voice a whisper, staring at the floor. It only took a few moments for the Time Lord to make his way over to the seat, kneeling down in front of you and cupping your cheeks. He was calling your name, you realized, but not in time for you to answer; your eyelids fluttered shut, and you lost your senses, precipitating into the Doctor's arms.

You woke up in what seemed like an ocean of blankets and pillows. Even under all that you felt like you were freezing. Your palms and forehead were sweaty, and yet you couldn't help but shiver.

"Doctor?" you called faintly from under the blankets. Soon enough, rapid footsteps approached the bed, and the Doctor's messy hair and worried look suddenly came into sight.

"I'm right here", he whispered, sitting next to you. His hand rested on your forehead for a couple of seconds, and the Time Lord furrowed his brow. He was clearly worried.

You were still very confused. "What's happening?" you asked.

The Doctor forced a light smile on his face to reassure you. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's only fever. You're going to be fine."

"Alien fever?"

"I'm afraid so," he muttered, "but nothing you can't handle. Do you feel like sitting up for me?"

Your body ached and you couldn't feel your fingers, but nonetheless you managed to get up. Now your back was resting against the pillows and you were holding onto the Doctor's sleeve. "You're doing very good", he remarked. "It probably feels exhausting, doesn't it?"

You nodded. Just sitting upright felt way more tiring than usual. The Doctor gently stroked your cheek. "I made you some broth. It should help warm you up." You noticed the fuming bowl on the nightstand.

"What kind of broth?" you questioned him, suspicious. The Doctor had the tendency to give you stuff to eat without explaining it was alien.

"Chicken. From Earth. I didn't even make it, I bought it. Right now we're parked in Rome, next to a pharmacy and across from a convenience store."

You smiled. "We're in Italy? Really?"

"When you get better we can have a look around," he replied, "but it's best if you recover first. Come on, eat up."

The Doctor handed you the bowl and in a few minutes you managed to gulp down every last drop of the broth. It was hot and warmed you up, just like the Doctor had said it would.

"There we go. Good, isn't it?" the Time Lord spoke, putting the bowl back on the nightstand. You nodded. The Doctor planted a kiss on your forehead. "Get back under the covers, you need to rest." You did as he told you, grateful for his company. He stroked your hair, gently and consistently, and you closed your eyes. Everything ached, but at least the Doctor was by your side.

The day went by in a haze. Once a while you could feel the Doctor putting a wet towel over your eyes, and fragments of his stories whispered from time to time. He also laid next to you throughout the night, and you tugged on his sleeve every time you came back to your senses for a few seconds, just to see if he was still there. He never left your side. If he had to, he would press his lips on your forehead and tell you he was going to "be back in a mo", but you didn't even notice his absence since he wouldn't spend more than a minute outside your room, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

Some time passed, and luckily your temperature got lower and lower. Slowly but surely, you even managed to get up from the bed and take a long, warm shower. The Doctor was so worried that he even suggested he went in with you, and even if you told him to piss off, you found it very sweet of him. "If you feel dizzy, scream really loud. Try not to slip, sweetheart. Also, I'll wash your clothes when you're done. Are you sure you don't want to eat first?" he rambled, but you told him off and had the most ordinary shower of your life. He almost hugged you when you got out, but your bare shoulders and death stare made him settle for a relieved smile in your direction.

You got your PJs back on and, soon enough, fell asleep once again. Even if you were recovering, that shower had exhausted you. The Doctor, having come inside the room to check in on you, smiled at your sleepy face and laid down next to you. Still asleep, your arms found their way over to his figure, your fingers clinging on to his clothes, and remained motionless. The only movement was your chests rising and falling, and the Time Lord's lips bending into a content grin.

When you woke up, an hour and a half later, the Doctor's hand was striking your head. Lazily, your eyelids lifted enough to let you see the Time Lord smiling at you.

"You alright?" he asked, in a murmur.

You nodded, then yawned, making him chuckle. "I wanna go to Rome," you pouted.

"You're not ready yet." The Doctor hugged you. "We don't want to make it worse, now, do we?"

"No..." you grumbled. The Doctor kissed your head. "Good", he said. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Okay. But I'm still going to make you something in a while. You can't recover on an empty stomach." His voice was low and made you want to spend forever with him, right there, laying together on a million pillows.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

You pecked him on the lips, grabbing him by the collar. He didn't protest.

"Thank you," you whispered, breathlessly, still very close to his face. "For everything you do for me."

He grinned. "Anytime, sweetheart." You chuckled at his words, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

This was his paradise, he thought.

[azuritethehermit]

May ask for a sickfic please?

You decide who got hit with the whole shebang (fever, headache, fatigue, stomach pain... you decide) and who's taking care of whom.

Totally not related to the fact that I am currently burning up but am basically home alone for now so there's nobody to be sweet to me about it

-🐈‍⬛ (if that's not taken. I'm here for the first time ^^)

This is so cute, Mumbos a little silly goose and likes to overwork himself to sickness and Grian wants him to stop.

(DISCLAIMER: I'm writing about the characters they portray and their minecraft personas not the people in real life)

"Mumboooo" Grian flew down next to Mumbo scaring the life of him almost.

"Oh gosh" He sniffled quietly. "Grian you scared me." He sucks the snot back up into his nose.

Grian laughs "Sorry Mumbo" He says sort of in a sing song voice. He then notices that Mumbo seems a little off today.

He cocks his head to the side a bit, "are you feeling okay?" He asks Mumbo worried for him, he knows how he overworks himself.

"Huh, oh yeah. Just a little sick" The tall mustached man seemed to be lost in thought at the redstone before him. He sighs and turns to Grian and notices him staring. "What?"

"Mumbo you're sick? Why aren't you stopping?" Grian questions the man, he holds his hand up to the tallers forehead and feels the warmth radiating off of him. "Good lord, you're running a fever. We've got to get you home." Grian attempts to grab Mumbos hand.

"What? No? I have to finish this contraption." Mumbo argues with the winged boy, but he wasn't giving up that easy.

He grabs Mumbos wrist somewhat more forcefully this time, "No Mumbo, we're going home."

Mumbo sighs and nods, deciding his mind is just too feeble right now to disagree. He does feel sick, and he feels like he could pass out any moment, but he doesn't want to worry Grian anymore right now.

"Thank you Grian, I wouldn't have stopped if you hadn't dragged me away." Mumbo smiles at the gesture. Grian had always been such a good friend to him. He didn't wanna ruin that by telling Grian he was in love with him.

"I know, you've got that work ethic." The avian sighs, "sometimes I think it's too strong." He mutters almost to himself. What Mumbo didn't know was that Grian was also in love with him, he wanted to care for him and make sure he rested when he was sick.

Grian brings Mumbo back to his house and quickly puts him into his bed, "okay! I'm gonna be your personal nurse for today Mumbo." Grian smiles, jokingly saluting to Mumbo.

"Mm thanks Grian, you're the best." He says sort of delirous.

Grian hums and runs into Mumbos kitchen to grab a cup of water so the sickly man can hydrate. He brings it back to him and helps him sit up. Grian sits on the side of the bed next to Mumbos knees. Grian hands Mumbo the cup of water with a tender look.

"Grian you really don't have to do this, I can take care of myself." Mumbo sighs and takes a sip of water.

Grian smiles again, "I know, but I want to take care of you. You're important to me." He takes Mumbos hand in his own after the ravenette sets the cup down on the side table.

"Okay, lie back, I want to try something, and I want to know what you think." Grian has that mischievous look in his eye. Mumbo however does comply laying back against his pillow.

Grian climbs on top of him laying his chest next to Mumbos heart beat. "Grian..? What're you doing?" He asks nervously.

"I'm listening to your heartbeat and breathing, hush" Grian hushes Mumbo. The redstoner decides he's going to take advantage of this situation and he wraps his arms around the smaller limply.

"O-okay," Mumbo stutters out the word quietly as Grian lays on top of him. The compression of the boy is actually nice and makes Mumbo feel safe. He feels more relaxed. He slowly drifts asleep arms wrapped around Grian like his favorite stuffed animal.

Grian looks up gently and smiles. He attempts to climb off him, but Mumbo just turns to grip on tighter so that they're both laying on their sides now. Grian blushes even though he knows Mumbos asleep.

Grian loves him, he knows for sure. He'll be sure to let him know after the two wake up from their cuddle session. And with that, Grian too fell asleep in the arms of his beloved.

~~~

I hope you enjoy and get better soon <3

[traumacatholic]

I was told there is a 50% chance I'll need a root canal that I just can't afford. I don't know how much more stress and humiliation I can take. prayers appreciated greatly.

I'm really sorry to hear this. It would also be worth looking into local and national charities and seeing if there's any that exist that can offer financial aid / support for dental treatments that are outside of your budget. I would imagine that there would be some support and advice for people in your position. Please also do consider reaching out to your local Church (or local Churches) and seeing if there's any kind of support and guidance they can provide. They might be able to signpost you to some kind of support, but at the very least having their prayers also can be of some great comfort and support.

I'm going to put some prayers under the readmore, that you might find to be of help

Prayers for all sick people

O Lord Almighty, healer of our souls and bodies, Who putteth down and raiseth up, Who chastiseth and health also; now, in Thy great mercy, visit our brothers and sisters who are sick. Stretch forth Thy hand that is full of healing and health, and raise them up, and cure them of their illness. Put away from them the spirit of disease and of every malady, pain and fever to which they are bound. And if they have sins and transgressions, grant to them remission and forgiveness, for Thou lovest humankind. Yea, O Lord my God, have pity on Thy creation, through the compassions of Thine only-begotten Son, together with Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, with whom Thou art blessed, both now and ever, and to ages of ages.

Prayers for yourself in sickness

O Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour, the Physician of our souls and bodies, Who didst become Man and suffer death on the Cross for our salvation, and through Thy tender love and compassion didst heal all manner of sickness and affliction: do Thou, O Lord, visit me in my suffering, and grant me grace and strength to bear this sickness with which I am afflicted, with Christian patience and submission to Thy will, trusting in Thy lovingkindness and tender mercy. Bless, I pray Thee, the means used for my recovery, and those who administer them. I know, O Lord, that I justly deserve any punishment Thou mayest inflict upon me, for I have so often offended Thee and sinned against Thee in thought, word, and deed. Therefore, I humbly pray to Thee, look upon my weakness, and deal not with me according to my sins, but according to the multitude of Thy mercies. Have compassion on me, and let mercy and justice meet; and deliver me from the sickness and suffering I am undergoing. Grant that my sickness may be the means of my true repentance and amendment of my life according to Thy will, that I may spend the rest of my days in Thy love and fear; that my soul, being helped by Thy grace and sanctified by Thy holy mysteries, may be prepared for its transition to the eternal life and there, in the company of Thy blessed saints, may praise and glorify Thee with Thy Eternal Father and Life-giving Spirit. Amen.

* * *

O Holy Father, heavenly Physician of the body and soul, Who hast sent Thine Only-begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, to heal ailments and deliver us from death; do Thou heal me, Thy servant, of all suffering, and restore me to health by the grace of Thy Divine Son, through the intercessions of our Most Holy Queen Ever-virgin Mary, the Mother of God, and all the saints. For Thou art the Fountain of all cure, O Lord, and we give thanks to Thee, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and forever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer for Protection

O Lord, Thou who steadied the hand of Peter as he began to sink on the stormy sea, if Thou are with me, no one is against me. Grant to me the shield of faith and the mighty armor of the Holy Spirit to protect me and guide me to do Thy will. The future I put into Thy hands, O Lord, and I follow Thee to a life in Christ. Amen

Prayers for Oneself in Time of Need

Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom.

Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayer for Oneself in Times of Sickness

O Lord, Healer of our bodies and souls, visit me with Your loving-kindness and stretch forth Your hand of healing. Raise me up from this bed of sickness, and heal me of all disease, pain, and fever that is binding me. We bless and honour You, our most holy Father, gracious Son, and life-creating Spirit, both now and forever. Amen. Almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, because You love mankind, pity Your creation. Your only-begotten Son taught us that not even the smallest sparrow falls to the ground without Your knowledge. We pray to You for Your servant [name here], for the healing of body and soul. Calm me with confidence in the fullness of Your love. To You belongs all our praise and worship, to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer to St. Spyridon of Trimythus

O most blessed hierarch Spyridon, thou great Saint of Christ and glorious wonder-worker!

Standing in heaven before the throne of God with choirs of Angels, look down with a compassionate eye upon the people gathered here (names may be added) and asking thy powerful help.

Entreat the merciful kindness of God Who loveth mankind, that He judge us not according to our iniquities, but rather act towards us according to His mercy.

Ask for us of Christ our God, a peaceful and serene life, health of soul and body, a fruitful earth, and in all things abundance and prosperity; that we turn not unto evil the good things bestowed upon us by our generous God, but rather unto His glory and the praise of thine intercession.

Deliver us, who with unswerving faith approach God, from all ills, whether spiritual or physical; from all discouragements and diabolical snares.

Be a consoler unto those in sorrow, a healer of the infirm, a helper of those in troubles, a coverer of the naked, a defender of widows, a protector of orphans, a nourisher of infants, a strengthener of the aged, a guide unto travellers, a compass to those that sail, and pray for all that seek thy mighty intercession, that they may receive all that is profitable unto their salvation: so that, taught and kept by thy prayers, we may attain eternal rest and together with thee glorify God, Who is One in the Holy Trinity, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.

Prayer to Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker

Hierarch and father, O most holy Nicholas, thou extraordinary Saint of the Lord, our loving defender and ready helper in sorrows everywhere: help us sinners and hapless ones in the present life: entreat the Lord God to grant us remission of all of our sins, that we have committed from our youth and all our life, by deed, word, though and all our senses; and in the passing of our souls, help us wretched ones; entreat the Lord God and Maker of all creation, to deliver us from trials in the air and eternal torment: that we may alway glorify the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and thy merciful intercession, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer in Time of Trouble 

O God, our help and assistance Who is just and merciful, and Who hears the supplications of Your people, look down upon me.  Have mercy upon me and deliver me from the trouble that besets me.  Deal not with me after my sins, but according to Your bountiful mercies, for I am the work of Your hands and You know my weakness. Grant me, I beseech You, Your divine helping grace, and endow me with patience and strength to endure my tribulations with complete submission to Your Will.  You know my misery and suffering and to You, my only hope and refuge, I flee for relief and comfort.  Trusting in Your infinite love and compassion, I know that in due time, when You know best, You will deliver me from this trouble and turn my distress into comfort.  I shall rejoice in Your mercy and exalt and praise Your Holy Name, of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, forever.  Amen.

[mamawasatesttube]

“I know, I know, I’m stuck with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” please!

"Thanks for coming on such short notice." Dick both looks and sounds harried, Bat-comm in hand as he ushers Kon in from the balcony. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can, but you never know with Arkham breakouts—also, there's some leftover chicken soup in the fridge, if he can keep that down it'll be great, and—yes, B, I'm on my way, I heard you the first seventeen times—sorry, Conner, it's a bit hectic, but—"

"Hey, man." Kon gives him a reassuring thumbs-up. "I got this. You go do your thing and let me wrangle the poor sickly scrunkle, yeah?"

Dick pauses on one leg, one shoe on, the other in hand. "The scrunkle?"

"Tim," Kon clarifies. "You know, 'cuz he's scrunkly."

"...I see," Dick says, not sounding like he particularly sees at all. But there's no time to explain; he flashes a quick grin, fires off a two-fingered salute, and calls one more "Thanks again!", and then he's gone.

Kon cocks his head and waits.

After seventeen seconds, the jingle bell he stuck to the outside of Dick's bedroom windowframe on his way in chimes, and he snorts to himself as he superspeeds right on over to the fire escape outside.

"Predictable, Rob," he says, lounging midair. Tim, staring at the bell in his hand with great prejudice, scowls; the effect is rather ruined by his adorable hot pink bird-printed pajamas. "You definitely have a fever if you fell for that one."

Tim folds his arms over his chest and glares at him. Coughs. Glares some more. "I don't need a"—cough, cough—"babysitter. I'm not that sick. Dick's just fussing."

Kon eases himself back in through the window, closes it against the night air, and presses his lips to Tim's forehead, ignoring the way Tim splutters. He's cute when he gets grumpy. "Mmm, well, that certainly feels like a high fever to me!"

"It's only a hundred and one," Tim mutters. And coughs again. Christ on a bike, he really sounds like death warmed over. The red flush to ohis face really isn't helping things, either.

Also. Christ on a bike? Really? Sheesh, Kon's spending too much time with Ma's friends on Bingo Sundays.

"Mm, yeah, so we're getting you back in bed," Kon informs him, and plucks him off the ground, sets him on his hip like the world's most disgruntled toddler, and carries him back over to Dick's bed, where he's clearly been being fussed over already, if the box of tissues, empty mugs, and cough drops are anything to go by.

"I'm not that sick!" Tim protests. Kon sees right through him, though; his wiggles of dissent are weaker than usual. "I can help. You heard Dick earlier, it's all hands on deck—"

"Which is why, if things get particularly dire, Dick already said he'll call me in," Kon says, and draws the blankets up over Tim's chest. "Seriously, Rob. The others have it in hand. And I," he grins, cupping Tim's face in his palms, "have you in hand."

Tim favors him with a very flat look, followed by a very pathetic sniffle. Oh, jeez, Kon wants to bundle him up and feed him soup and fuss over him forever. "Ha ha."

"I know, I'm hilarious." Kon squishes his cheeks before letting go. "Now, I'm gonna go get you some soup and your next dose of meds, and you're gonna stay right here in bed and not try any more escape attempts because you know I'm gonna catch you and bring you right back. And we are gonna watch your choice of 'Wendy', 'Star Trek', 'Star Wars', or 'Lord of the Rings', until you inevitably knock the fuck out because you are sick as hell, dude, and I do not mean in the Tony Hawk way. Got it?"

Tim heaves a weary, put-upon sigh that just sends him into another coughing fit; it sounds rough and scratchy and painful just to hear, and Kon winces in sympathy, leaning over to rub his back. Aw, Tim...

"I guess I can live with that," Tim rasps, his eyes watering. Kon is seized by the urge to kiss his forehead again, properly this time; he wants to take care of him so bad.

"Good! 'Cuz you don't get a choice." Kon gently ruffles his hair, eases him back against his pillows, and then tuts softly to himself and strokes the hair back from Tim's sweaty forehead. His poor Rob...

"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm stuck with you." Tim sighs again, closing his eyes. After a moment, though, he smiles ever-so-slightly, his eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks. "...I wouldn't have it any other way."

That's gotta be the fever talking—it's true, and Kon knows it's true, but Tim wouldn't just say it like that—but it makes Kon's heart flutter all the same.

He leans down and kisses Tim's forehead before he can lose his resolve. "Right back at'cha, Rob," he says, smiling. "Now lemme go get you your soup."

"Good luck," Tim mumbles, opening his eyes just slightly. "Don't fall in, have fun, et cetera..."

Kon laughs. "Will do," he says, and stands to leave.

(It's not until he's waiting in front of the microwave that he realizes: since the moment he left Tim's side, he's been—quite literally—walking on air.)

50 Prompts About Devotion

[angeltreasure]

Merry Christmas!

Please in your charity pray for me. 😔 All of a sudden I'm feeling sick, it might be covid, I don't have a fever, but I'm falling apart and very much pregnant. 🤧😷 I'm also sad that I'll have to miss the Mass this Sunday if I don't feel better.

Thank you!

Prayer for the Sick

Lord Jesus, You said, “Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) Through the prayerful intercession of Saint Pio, I turn to You now, Lord, in my suffering.

Be always near to me, especially when fear and depression threaten to take hold of me, and when I begin to feel like I am a burden to others. Do not abandon me, O Lord, but help me in my need to accept my illness, to offer it in union with Your Holy Passion on Calvary, and to trust in your Divine Goodness.

Bless and reward all those who assist me. Grant courage, comfort, and strength to all those who suffer sickness, troubles, and difficulties.

Dear Saint Pio, my Spiritual Father and Heavenly protector, do not allow me to waver in faith, hope, and love. Be with me and this time of need. Lead me to inner healing and a peaceful acceptance of God’s loving care through all the days of my life. Amen.

For a Mother with Child

O almighty and everlasting God, through the Holy Spirit, You prepared the body and soul of the glorious Virgin Mary to be a worthy dwelling place of Your divine son. Through the name of the Holy Spirit, You sanctified Saint John the Baptist, while still in his mother’s womb.

Hear the prayers of your humble servant who implores You, through the intercession of Saint Gerard, to protect me from the dangers of childbearing and to watch over the child with which You have blessed me. May this child be cleansed by the saving water of Baptism and, after a Christian life on earth, may we, both mother and child, attain everlasting bliss in Heaven. Amen.

[waterfallofspace]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any more V/NC snz or h/c ideas/thoughts? 👀

One of my favorite scenarios for them is that I feel like they’re set up really well for coming down with a cold in the rain/snow! It was. Definitely on my mind when they spent so long in the snow in part 2 lol. Very very soft for the image of Van or N/oe getting sick in cold weather and the other giving them their jacket. Vampire constitution is also an interesting area—N/oe teasing a sick V about human frailty or Van/itas complaining to a sick N/oe that he’s supposed to be stronger. I feel like these two clowns would end up getting each other sick and then one of the girls would have to step in and take care of them both lmao.

Vampire scenarios also work really well here like if one of the vampires is drinking blood from one of the others, but they’re wearing a new perfume/cologne that irritates the vampire’s nose. Perfumes are often concentrated on the neck and/or wrist, which are exactly the places we’ve seen vampires feed from most often in this anime… the proximity could make their reaction even worse, maybe causing them to sneeze helplessly against the other’s neck/wrist?

Van/itas begrudgingly giving a sick N/oe some of his blood (not straight from the vein of course, from a separate container) to help him recover faster so they can get on with their mission and certainly not because he cares about him in the slightest or anything like that.

That scene (or a similar one) where Do/mi binds V, but he needs to sneeze from whatever cause and it gets stuck. She might decide to have a little more fun playing with him since she has the chance,,, maybe even using a feather from a masquerade mask/costume or a quill?

Hello! So I uh... I saw this when it first came in, and I intended to answer fast but... honestly just kept coming back and reading it~ You have so many good ideas here!~ (also been on a little 'not motivated' kick, so been a lot less active~)

In order to not flood the feed, I'll stick my answers under a cut!~ But I'll say here, genuinely... that last one... I'm a little dizzy from now much I adore that >///< now get ready for some rambling! (V/anitas No C/arte Spoilers Under Cut!!)

ALRIGHT~ Now that the readmore's out of the way, let's get into this.

Firstly, the!! snow!!! I'm not a super heavy whump/general sickness person but... fevered Vanitas...? A little out of breath~ I so completely agree that if one goes down, so does the other. Noe catches something and Vanitas quarantines him to a hotel room. Vanitas only enters the room once. Vanitas is sick as a dog the next day <3 (he complains the ENTIRE time, but... hey... weirdly enough, now that he's sick... seems the 'stay AWAY from me' has faded into a light 'mmmmpf. fine.' weird how that works~)

And the girls taking care of themmmm! Even if both aren't sick, I can totally see one calling the 'other's girl' like "come get this IDIOT to take his STUPID medicine!!" (or in Noe's case, "Hey... so I don't think he's gonna let me give him the- I said give me a mINUTE pleAse! The medicine... he uh- tried to bite me last time I tried-")

Or, alternatively, the girls trying to watch over their sick boys, just to realize the only way to actually get anything done without constant nagging, complaining, and moping, is to let the idiots be together. Funny, given how adamant they were just the other day that they 'never wanted to be in the same room again'. And yet, the only time they'll sleep is when the other's safely in the same room.

And then the perfume... lord knows I've thought about that- I'm definitely more of a Vanitas girlie but uh... Noe could use a little suffering too <3 And then the girls?? ugh- just so many possibilities. And, selfishly because, ~Vanitas Girlie~ the idea of him mocking Noe mercilessly for having a fit from the person's perfume, just to succumb to a few stifles of his own from mere proximity. And, ofc, Noe would never find humour in that. (aka: he laughed, and Vanitas punched him~)

And uh... that last one... yeah nothing more to be said than I still in fact lose my actual genuine mind any time I think about it~ Vanitas, always in control, smug, arrogant, being knocked down a peg... and by Domi...? Ahahaha~ Let's just say yes <3

As a gift for making it this far, have a Vanitas~ (I did say this would be long-)

Now onto some of my own hcs or thoughts~ Pulling out the google doc again hehe~ let's do this bullet point style, then throw a few scenarios I had considered on at the end~

Vanitas:

★ Tells Noe (or most anyone) to shut up if he gets blessed

★ Regardless, will pout if he doesn't get blessed (including if he just told them to stop)

★ Enjoys most blessings, despite pretending he doesn't, but French ones will always make him blush a little~ (Noe mostly goes for a classic English, Domi figures out first that the French gets Vanitas, she debates telling Noe for about 3 days)

★ Has allergies <3 Hates, and I do mean hates that he has allergies

★ Wants to fit in with the rich crowd, but he's very sensitive to their strong perfumes and colognes, sometimes feels like he's allergic to nobility itself

★ Usually prepared, whether that's medication, avoiding settings, or setting his will in place to get through without a single symptom presenting itself

★ Despite all this, he almost never has tissues on him. Doesn't believe in handkerchiefs for anything but watering eyes or dabbing at blood, and even if he does use them, they're a 'one-and-done' deal in his mind

★ Allergic to certain types of flowers, but put him in a setting with enough of them and you'll get a reaction (aka: Waterfall wishes that scene had an allergic twist, and you know what? in my mind it does <3)

★ Not actually that prone to sickness, but when he goes down he goes down hard (and Noe will always catch it too, despite how careful they both try to be)

★ Will somehow play up every single symptom for attention, and also feign ignorance when presented with any genuine concern. A mixture of "I'b dyigggg-" and "I'b fide, shud ub." At the same time. And yes, this does get unbelievably irritating, and honestly... that's kinda the point </3

★ Cannot stand having a fever around other people, which is part of the reason he hates getting sick so often. He's quite prone to them~

Noe:

☆ Compulsive blesser, and this applies to himself as well. The only time he might miss a blessing is if he's offering an 'excuse me' instead

☆ Yes, he even blesses in the midst of battle, much to Vanitas's utter infuriation (and being around him so much, Vanitas has slipped up a few times and offered his own blessing. Noe adores this, Vanitas despises it~)

☆ Doesn't have an actual allergies (which pisses Vanitas off) but does have a few vampire-specific sensitives, as well as... I kinda love the idea of like- if he's reading a memory where someone felt certain... sensations... he feels them too?~

☆ While he doesn't have allergies, he does get sick quite often. Which Vanitas finds utterly insufferable, similiar to anything this poor man does <3 because you're a VaMpIre?!?! How are you this WEAk???

☆ Noe will always get sick if Vanitas does, but the opposite doesn't apply. While it's more than likely Vanitas will catch it too, there have been a few cases he doesn't. Noe however? Poor lad has not evaded a single illness one of his friends has befallen

☆ While he's not allergic, his nose is still sensitive, especially to touch. Feathers, flowers, even just a finger, all will work wonders when gently brushed against his delicate bridge or flaring nostrils~

☆ He's fairly similar to Vanitas in the illness department, at least in of that he will complain, a bit of a whining mess, but will still insist on coming along to every adventure

☆ Where he differes is that he won't deny any of the symptoms, and will openly admit how unwell he feels, just refuses that to be a valid reason not to join

☆ He's quite clingy when feeling unwell, and was genuinely surprised to find how much attention Vanitas will, albeit begrudengly, give him

☆ Domi has a specific gesture she does when he feels unwell, running her hands along his hair, down this cheeks, along his neck, and up the bridge of his nose. She learned it from Louis. Vanitas sees her doing it one night, and notices the way neither of them can quite seem to meet the other's eye. He never says a word, but the next time Noe's down with a vicious fever, he's surprised to feel the same familiar touch, despite Domi being far away on business. They never speak of it

☆ Canonically he has trouble sleeping if he isn't holding onto something, so... ofc this means that he's prone to waking up with a fit into his pillow, or whatever unfortunate victim he's currently clinging onto when sick~

A Few Scenarios:

✦ The flower scene, but Vanitas is a bit more allergic than he'd like to admit. Who will be the first to notice? Or, will he be be able to hide it at all? There's more important things to focus on, for all of them, and yet... maybe this is the perfect change to take care of something they can fix~

✦ The Day Noe Found Out About Vanitas's Perfume Allergy: aka, they attend a fancy party, but Noe notices Vanitas often sneaking off. More than that, he's acting weird. Quieter than usual. Noe confronts him, and Vanitas brushes it off, but... are- are his shoulders shaking? Is he... crying..?? Nope, turns out he's sneezing, these... little squeaks that seem to be doing nothing to satiate the ever-growing tickle. Jeez, even Noe's eyes are watering at this point. Time for a little intervention

✦ Noe gets sick for the first time, and Vanitas learns that his bodyguard may need a little guarding of his own. (Cue some chaos, some caretaking, and some comfort. Turns out Vanitas isn't as cold as he may come acrross, at least, not when he's certain Noe won't remember it in the morning~)

✦ Every. Single. Time. Noe. Sneeze. It. Scares. Vanitas. And you know what? Maybe it's time for a little payback. (aka: Vanitas tries to induce Noe, figuring if he has to be freaked out, and embarrassed, well... he should get to have some fun too. Backfires splendidly, turns out even when he's the cause, the volume is still enough to make Vanitas jump. Cue some playfully annoyed banter~)

Aaaaand if you made it to the end of this, well... sorry for the essay, but I hope this was worth the wait!! And that you can enjoy at least some of it~ I've not been in the writing mindset lately, but I do hope to get around to these boys someday, they just... they need some sneeziness, they just do <3

[icangiveitback]

I want to write a uh dragon sickness zuko story but I keep getting distracted. =_=

I always want to write sick fic when I'm sick though so maybe I'll get around to it this time haha.

It'd be post canon right when things get settled enough for everyone to leave the fire nation and an actual 16 year old alone on the throne for the first time after 3 years of no socializing haha with zuko getting increasingly feverish and possessive while trying to Actively not seem feverish or possessive because he doesn't want to be a bad guy you know

It's a spirit sickness like his little Fever of Conscious or whatever that was but drawn out instead of immediate. It's called dragon sickness because symptoms are: fever, possessiveness, territorial aggression, sparks with breathing, eyeshine, hoarding, etc. Kind of a nightmare when you're trying to convince people your nation has subjugated for a hundred years that you are reformed and also not like your power-hungry father.

He feels better when he's watching his people be happy, when there's a festival or what not. He feels best when he has his friends bundled up next to him when he can count them and see that they're safe and happy and here, but of course he can't keep them where he wants them (and he definitely shouldn't want to keep them) so he kind of just, goes through the motions and gets a couple days here and there of clear thinking and worry that he is actually going crazy like the rest of his family

(You know who else has dragon sickness? Azula. Losing her friends and her father's favor kind of really broke her perception of reality. She didn't feel safe, couldn't trust anyone to be hers. It's instability brought on by loneliness and paranoia that opens the spirit to dragon sickness in powerful firebenders. Maybe the water tribes and earth kingdom have similar spirit sicknesses in their powerful benders.

(Zuko got his first taste of dragon sickness in zuko alone, abandoning his uncle and sabatoging any connections he found with the earth kingdom citizens and then wandering in the desert is a pretty instable kind of time. That's why the fever dream memories and deciding it was a good idea to firebend and declare his lineage to a tiny peasant town while chasing off threats. All dragon-typical these are my people now you're messing with me—whoops they hate me time to find someone/something I can fight and or hoard. He recognized the symptoms in Azula, but had no words for it.))

Zuko's illness is slow to set in, and he refuses to let a little fever knock him down so no one really catches it until it starts getting kind of scary. At least at that point azula is back on her feet, somewhat, enough at least that she can put two and two together. Like all spirit sicknesses, meditation and self reflection (therapy basically) are the only true ways to cure it. Satisfying symptoms sometimes only feeds the illness instead of abating it.

So azula's got to convince zuko that he isn't actually alone (hard to do, when Azula is convinced she, herself is alone) and that his world isn't going to end if he makes a wrong step (again, hard to do when a wrong step from the fire lord could actually thrust them all back into war).

It will help once he realizes his friends will come back to visit and not forget him. It will help when his people rally behind him when someone tries to drum up a civil war. Once he starts feeling less like he's doing damage control and more like he's creating something to be proud of with his people.

And azula gets it, too, when zuko starts doing things like dragging her around like theyre kids again. Sneaking snacks up into her room and complaining to her about his meetings without worrying she is going to use that information against him. Listening to her advice. trusting her with things like being acting regent to give him time off to have field trips with his friends.

Yeah, azula gets it.

And probably they'll always be a little bit ill, with it. But it's more like a barometer now. If azula gets a bit feverish that just means zuko gets to drag her off to Ember Island and spend the night talking about politics and how much he trusts his sister's intuition and (in the morning after drinking) that he's sure she'll have the nation in fine hands can she just put him out of his hangover misery now (they can joke about it now even if it's not really a joke and more like a promise that he'll watch her and she'll watch him and neither of them will get as bad as their father ever was).

And when zuko's eyes start catching light in the dark azula pulls out her meticulous plans for the fire lord's birthday (festivals in the street, friends and wayward uncles firmly home where zuko can fuss, requests for approvals for funding the arts, schools, contracts for new jobs... little victorious things that zuko can get his teeth into without fear of messing up because these are things he's good at)

Anyways. They get better, is the point

[orsamu]

hello, i saw that the requests are open so i decided to make one. Can you please do a HC with Barbatos and Solomon (separated)? With fem!MC where the Y/N is sick and they need to take care of her. I love your writing ❤

being sick is being... | barbatos + solomon x reader [hc]

cw: fem!mc (but no pronouns used) sick!mc, separated headcanons, fluff.

an: hey anon, thanks! you're really sweet. i'm sorry for the lateness, i was really busy. in this scenario mc for some reason don't stay with the brothers (don't question it, i just thought would be easier with she staying with barbs and sol). so here it is, hope you like it!

barbatos:

...spoiled. once you start showing signs of being sick, barbatos makes time for you.

after a good scolding, of course. mc, he told you to no play in the rain but did you listened to him? no. and now look what happened.

you're staying at the demon lord castle where he can check on you constantly. if you are just friends, you stay in one random room. if you are dating, he might let you stay on his.

might because he works for diavolo and he can't get sick, but on the other side, dude can't think about letting you all alone with a fever.

you end up in his room. he will figure something out.

barbatos leaves a bell for you to ring when you need something. checking on your temperature before work and making sure you eat all of your meals.

the brothers come to visit you and he makes a long speech: touching you only with clean hands, don't make you too tired... either way, he still makes some casual checks to see if everything is going fine (except for lucifer. he trusts lucifer will follow everything perfectly).

diavolo is always coming (we know this man is a freak for visits) and barbatos is desperate. my lord, you can't keep coming here, you will get sick! think about the risk!

personally makes soups that he read will make you better. gives your meals on record. you are amazed how the demon can keep an eye on you and manage his tasks as a butler.

if you complain about being bored despite using your D.D.D, barbatos finds books for you. asks satan for advice on your favorites, even.

when you get better, he cooks you your favorite dish while you chat and drink tea with a smiley diavolo. won't tell you but he will miss having you around all the time.

solomon:

i can't resume in one word: teased, a little spoiled. when you show up at purgatory hall's front door, sniffing, he knows what happened. he was out on the street buying some things while you and mammon were playing in the rain, and of course you would get sick.

sighs, but he has a soft smile. lets you in and you lay sleeping on his fluffy bed while he searches around for books about healing spells. turns out he can't solve this with magic, so the sorcerer decides to do it himself.

goes to the kitchen and tries to make you a soup he read was good for your health, but simeon and luke are desperately trying to keep him away.

luke is cooking everything you need and the little dog angel is happy. simeon keeps company with his soothing presence.

solomon takes notes for classes you need and stick them to your planner/book whatever you use to study. sometimes he comes back with human realm movies you couldn't find in devildom.

keeps the brothers away saying "they might make your condition worst", but the sorcerer just likes to fool them. lets asmo come because he has a soft spot for him.

pats your hair sometimes and tries a few silly jokes to make you smile. might read to you when you are sleeping or after you ask him to.

if you are too tired/weak to take a bath, he will help you without any malice. dress you if his shirts or sweaters because he thinks you look so cute with them.

also dries your hair and brushes it to you. you can't tell me otherwise.

when you get better, solomon might give you hints to move to purgatory hall (he likes having you close, mc).

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Aww, John, do you think you could write another little thing for Will and Phileas? I miss them!

I miss them too, and I really need to get back to work on my fic, but life has been weirdly busy lately and it's like, wait, what???

But, in the meantime, here's a little something after Phileas was out of in during the fourth episode.

Warning: implied drugging but not outright said (Phileas doesn't know at this point, and Will doesn't want to tell him just yet)

On with the fic!

--

"How are you feeling exactly?" Will asked as he stepped into the room, finding Phileas inside, just finishing with getting his cravat in place.

Phileas, upon returning to the little village after speaking with the lieutenant, decided that he really, really needed a good bath. He had felt disgusting, covered in old sweat and it stuck to him something terrible. Luckily, their host was gracious enough to have something ready, it was a thank you of sorts for what he did, just a bonus to her other gift of helping them get what they needed for their next stretch of the journey, just as she promised.

Once he had bathed, he had decided he was just going to dress himself, which was for the best, Passepartout seemed a bit... distant. And he couldn't really ask the others for help, he didn't want to impose.

He turned to face Will, seeing him leaning on the doorway, watching with a thoughtful expression, he looked worried. "I'm quite alright, William. Still a bit strange, like my muscles were overworked."

"Well, you were thrashing about, and in intense pain."

"It was like a terrible fever, if I am to be honest. I don't remember much of anything, but I remember being too hot and everything hurting." Phileas frowned. "I also remember a cow."

This seemed to make Will snort a laugh and Phileas raised an eyebrow. "No. You can't be serious."

"You, uh," Will coughed, trying to hide a smile behind his hand, "you were singing to the cow."

"Oh no...!"

"I think your fevered condition made you a little loopy."

"Clearly..." Phileas felt so embarrassed! It was bad enough that he had apparently insulted the lieutenant, now he went and made a total ass out of himself by singing to a cow?! And Will saw, apparently, oh dear Lord...

"What exactly do you remember from last night, Phileas?" Will asked, walking up to him, then gently guided him to sit on the bed.

Phileas frowned, toying with a lock of hair. "I... remember having a meal with the lieutenant, and then as I was talking... things seemed to get strange. I don't remember much, I apparently had punched Passepartout and spun Aziraphale around in the courtyard like we were ballroom dancing!"

He only knew that last bit because Ms. Crowley had told him, Aziraphale was too polite to bring it up.

"And then things were very blurry and colorful, and warm. I was very warm. And the cow was there, and we had such a lovely conversation!"

"What else?" Will asked, he looked conflicted, like he wanted to ask something specific but he held back.

"I... I think I was brought back here, and that things got worse, and frightening. I remember drinking something foul tasting, and there was a storm, yes? I wasn't imagining that?"

"Yes, there was a storm."

"Everyone was there, I think. Watching me. And then... I woke up here. And felt better, still dreadful, but my mind was so much clearer." Phileas looked at Will, he still looked trouble. "What's wrong? Had I done something in my fevered state? Did I say something?"

He tensed up at that last question, then put on a smile. "No, you didn't say much of anything coherent at all. At least nothing worth repeating."

That... wasn't a clear answer, but maybe it was wise not to ask for clarity?

"I am happy to be feeling better." Phileas said instead. "I don't want to go through that again, I wonder what happened."

"Could be anything, really." Will shrugged. "Might have caught a nasty bit of sickness while on the trip that didn't hit until we go here. Sunstroke, maybe? Or an allergic reaction to something?"

"Goodness, those all sound terrible."

"Yep." Will stood up. "I'll leave you to finish getting dressed, we should be able to set out soon, just have to make sure we've got all the supplies we need." He said it like it was an excuse to leave, and then Will was out the door.

Phileas sighed, everyone seemed on edge around him today, what exactly happened last night? What had he done?

What did he say?

[thiswasinevitableid]

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick. 

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here. 

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business. 

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning. 

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay. 

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one. 

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable. 

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan. 

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways. 

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch. 

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous,  “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth. 

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away. 

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?” 

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?” 

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth. 

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.” 

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

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

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start. 

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth. 

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him. 

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits. 

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure. 

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same. 

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away. 

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread. 

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs. 

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat. 

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.” 

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip. 

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed. 

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes. 

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable. 

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers. 

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust. 

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him. 

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea. 

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck. 

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him. 

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed. 

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs. 

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be. 

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit” 

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.” 

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster. 

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg. 

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations. 

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened. 

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye. 

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would. 

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”

[mo2k]

It's ok if your reply is long! Just hope your ok for my long reply as well *cracks knuckles*

No Bam I'm not reading the manga, I read spoilers on puropse for fun.... yeah I'm weird like that 💀 but I'm sure you already know that Mitsuya has 2 little sister so they can join aswell! I'll always fight for my lil sis (that you sweetie 😗) and you don't need to worry, me and my brother don't fight often he's actually a great guy- I'd never say that out loud tho but when we do it's not that bad (he mostly needs me to help with some projects of his and when I refuse he pyscially drags me 💀) Baji is gonna look so pretty at the end of the day 🤣🥺

AOT is def my kinda anime... horror, thriller sort of deal yk! Trust me aot gets real interesting in the final season so be prepared 👀 You already met Levi? That means you have gone pretty far! Yes! he's the captain 😌 humanity's strongest soldier! But not just his skills and looks he also has a really interesting and complex personality! It's what makes him a great character and that's why he hold half my heart ❤✨

That scene shocked me too! I was like - WTF THE MAIN CHARACTER JUST DIED??! 😱 that's just one twist of the many that is yet to come 😵💫 Once you're done with the 1st season tell me I got something to show you 😂

I don't think he will ever simp for a character... him teasing me doesn't really bother me, it's actually one of his less annoying traits 😅 Him not liking Oikawa is coz I like Oikawa, that's how he is- it's just to annoy me but I'm to old for his traps 😒

Same here 🙄✋🏼 I wanted a slight fever so I can skip class but nothing... I went to class straight after my vaccine. I can't get sick even if I tried 😭 but I used to be such a sick child when I was little.... Lol moms are like that 🤣 Don't worry I'll take care of myself! You're gonna send Shin? Would I have to look after him too? 😂 You take care of yourself too ok <3

Ohohoho who do you think you’re talking to Amanda-san ? 🤨 I always love seeing you respond with long reply darling <3 btw why yer cracking yer knuckles ? just curious — kidding ! 🤡🤡🤡

Oh I see and no honey you’re not weird, my dad’s exactly just like that, he loves watching spoilers in case the anime / movies didn’t continue to the end </3 Well yes I know about them omg how did you know ? 😵 and ofc they can join ! They’re like another two cute sisters in my eyes !

Please 🤧💗 Thank you, you’re too sweet. But for one thing, I’ll fight for you too my big sis ♡︎ Ah alright I am not worried…. Really. Yeah my sis actually is a v. kind person, and a v. good person as well. But lord I’d never ever say that to her — Wait what ? Love r u alright at that time ?! I think he should be a bit more… gentle, y’know. Although you refuse but he’s gotta be a bit… um… polite. Since he’s the one who ask you for help.

Awww I can practically imagine him in my head. A very pretty boi with magnificent hairstyle made by you, and cute bows adorning him by me awwwwww 🥺💖🥰❤️ (But at the same time — I’m laughing hysterically while taking loads of pictures of him just so I could send them to the secret toman group chat… the one that’s built for this purpose only… which means he’s not in it, now we can roast him as much as we want while he could never know about it, he couldn’t right ? 🤣🤣🤣)

Ahahahaha yes I understand ! And yeah I already heard that from my dad — damn, he’s a real big spoilers, he already slipped lots of things gosh I wanna cry 😭😭😭

Yep yep I’m on ep 20-21 I think ? 🤔 So that means I’m close to finishing ss1 soon ! And yeahhhh he shocks me a lot ! Uh huh I can totally see why you fell for him 😏✨ He’s such an excellent charac and you have such amazing taste so it matches 😌👏

But hold on — look at this —

(Got this from my friend but well —)

Look at his waist oml — do you think it’s broken ? I do think it’s broken omggggg 🤣🤣🤣

And yeah — it’s like it’s impossible ! And yes I know, my dad already told me that there will lots lots more twist to come (Ugh I hate him 🙄😫😭) Oh sure sure, I’ll tell you when I finished sis <3

Really ? Well if you say so — And wat ? Wow I think I’ve face the similar situation… but it just my sis simp for almost every charac I simp for just to annoyed me *sigh* but yeah we’re both too old for their traps already *high five*

Oh my, and huh ? But but you’re okay now right ? If not then take even more care of yourself okay ? I don’t want you to get sick :( Good good, just like that, and well I will def send shin... but then it’s up to you whether you wanna take care of him or not, although... For the reason I send him in the first place is that I want him to take care of you so... 💀💀💀

I will ~ Ty sissy, u too <3

- With love, BamBam 🦢🌙

[kpopgirl1234bl]

Hello honey, here i'm again with my Kuroshitsuji escenarios ahaha, can you write a scenario where y/n is ill and have a horrible fever. Ciel is so worried and then discover that there is a supposed curse in her family where all die young for a strange disease, and everybody worries including Sebastian, but it ends with that she just has a flu? Sorry if is too much, you can make it angst or funny or whatever you want, thanks honey 💙💙💙

It's not too much, I actually like how specific you are. It makes the writing process a lot easier for me.

I also took inspiration from myself. I had a really bad case if the flu a few years back and it was torture.

It's not fun being sick, and I think we can all agree on that.

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

Summary: when you suddenly get sick, you fear the worst and decide to tell Ciel about your family's curse.

Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x fem!reader

Words: 1,069

Warning: maybe a little angsty

Request: yes

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

You had felt funny all day, but you didn't know what was going on. Throughout the day, it only kept getting worse and worse.

It was in the middle of the day you felt worse. You felt like you couldn't breathe. You were leaning against the wall, your vision getting worse.

You collapsed onto the ground, still heaving after the air. Your vision became even more blurry. Right before you passed out, you saw someone round the corner you didn't know who, but you needed help.

"Help...Me." You whispered before passing out from exhaustion.

It just so happened to be Finnian, who came from the corner. When he saw you on the ground, he knew something was very wrong.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Finnian shook you, trying to wake you up. Finnian didn't know what to do, so he picked you up and ran towards the kitchen, the last place he saw Sebastian.

Finnian burst into the kitchen, where he saw Sebastian preparing something, probably for the young lord.

Sebastian turned towards whoever burst into the kitchen so carelessly. But when he saw Finnian with you passed out in his arms, his eyes widen.

"Sebastian! I found Y/N passed out in the hallway. She's breathing heavily, and her face is warm!" Finnian shouted, panicked out of his mind.

Sebastian rushed over and put his hand on your forehead and immediately felt your body temperature.

Sebastian took you into his arms and rushed to your and Ciel's bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and carefully started to shed some of your clothes off.

In the meantime, Finnian had found Ciel in his office and informed Ciel what had happened.

Everything stopped for Ciel. He looked up at Finnian, who was breathing heavily from running.

"Where is she! Tell me!" Ciel shouted as he stood up.

"She's in the bedroom, Sebastian is taking care of her," Finnian told him, and before Finnian could say any more, Ciel was already on his way to you.

"Y/N!" Ciel burst into your shared bedroom and looked towards the bed. He rushed over to you and took your hand into his.

"My Lord, it seems like Lady Y/N has a high fever and have trouble breathing," Sebastian informed Ciel.

"Don't just stand there! Do something!" Ciel shouted at Sebastian.

"Yes, My Lord," Sebastian said and left the room to retrieve supplies. Ciel looked over at you and gripped your hand tighter.

"Y/N, please. Be okay..." Ciel whispered and placed his lips against your hand.

Soon Sebastian came back with a bowl with cold water and a small towel. He wet the small towel and placed it on your forehead to help you cool down. There wasn't much they could do since you were unconscious.

You woke up a few hours after. You felt something cold and moved your hand to remove it.

"Y/N! You're awake!" You heard the familiar voice of your lover, Ciel.

"Ciel? What happened?" you asked him.

" You passed out, luckily Finnian found you. You still have a high fever, but at least your breathing seems to be orderly again, that's good." Ciel told you. When he informed you that, you felt your eyes well up with tears.

"Y-Y/N? What's wrong, What's happening?!" Ciel asked you.

"I'm sorry, Ciel, I should've told you sooner." You said, tears falling your cheeks.

"Told me what?" Ciel asked you.

"There's a curse in my family. Everyone in my family dies at a young age from a seemingly unharmful thing." You cried and held his hand even tighter.

Ciel looked at you, his eyes widen. He felt like his whole world just collapsed right in front of him.

"We don't know why, what, or when it will come for us." You explained to him.

"At the start, it seems like the common cold or something else that's not harmful. But before we know it, it has claimed another family member." You continued.

Ciel didn't know how to respond. It was like his whole world shattered into tiny pieces that one could not repair.

Ciel pulled you into his arms and whispered:

"I won't let that happened. I will find a cure I promise you that." You felt tears well up in your eyes again and hugged him tightly.

After talking some more, Ciel told you to get some sleep, and he would come back with some food later.

Ciel stepped out of your room and nearly broke down. He swore on his life that he would find a cure for this strange disease in your family, and save you before it's too late.

Eventually, the word got around about your family's curse. Everyone was worried about it because they knew how much happiness you brought Ciel.

During this time, Ciel never left your side. Any time he could spend with you, he did. He would bring you food, tea, and medicine in hopes you would get better.

After a week, you didn't seem to get any better. Ciel decided to call a doctor.

The doctor finally arrived and was shown the way to the bedroom. The doctor asked Ciel to leave the room, but he was reluctant to do so, but you finally got him to leave the room so the doctor could examine you.

Ciel stood outside your bedroom, waiting for the doctor to call him. It didn't take long before he was called into the room again.

When he stepped into the room, he saw you smiling, and he smiled back at you, but you notice the sadness in his eyes.

"What is it, doctor? Is it bad?" Ciel asked.

"Well, not as bad as you might think. It seems like Miss Y/N here has a bad case of the flu, nothing to worry about." The doctor told Ciel, and you saw the happiness return to his eyes.

"I have given her some medicine. Be sure she takes this medicine after she has eaten something." The doctor explains and handed Ciel a small bottle of medicine.

"Thank you, doctor, and thank you for coming." Ciel thanked the doctor, and Sebastian showed him the way out.

Ciel turned towards you and smiled and hugged you tightly.

"Thank goodness." you heard Ciel whisper. You smiled and hugged him back tightly.

From that day on, he promised himself he would find a cure for you and your family.

And for the future yours and Ciel's children.

[fart-gate]

SGA

Season 5 Episode 6

Notes by me

- ive heard this episode is Rodney centric with lots of cough whump cough. So that should be fun for me hehehehehehe HERE WE GO LADS

- well it just gets right into it doesnt it huh

- hes acting like he has some sort of brain damage ?? Maybe bad head injury I'm guessing

- hes calling for john 😫💟

- what happened someone tell me

- infected????

- hes DYING ! Of what!!!! Somebody say what it is!!!!

- while the theme plays i want to acknowledge davids exquisite acting skillz 👌👌👌👌🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

- a few hrs earlier.....or days.....idk they didnt say lol

- woolseys bored when they arent there haha

- theyre trapped on TOP OF THE GATE THIS IS GOOD SHIT

- shivering 😌

- wet team atlantis is aahhh

- he had a fever immediately? Suspicious

- this shot of them on the gate in the middle of the lake with no lights but the wormhole POETIC CINEMA

- ronon carrying Rodney 💖💗💖

- wait hes back to normal? I dont trust it

- "our boy" AAWW

- back to the present! This is sad I'm sad

- again davids acting is just 🔥🔥🔥

- "Meredith?" 😭😭💟

- "I'm sick" you know when boromir keeps getting shot with arrows and when you think its over he gets shot with another one. This is what watching this episode feels like. I'm boromir

- ronon hugs are the best. I mean who doesnt want to hug Jason mamoa? Hes like hugging a bear that can tear your head off but youre 84% sure he wont

- ronon WHAT theres a place where he can be himself again?? Oh its dangerous yeah that tracks with ronons previous ideas

- WOA Rodney looks handsome in this video log

- something he wanted to say to keller. His feelings about her maybe??? 5 bucks!

- "second childhood" ronon has dealt with it before thats cool

- awwww the fruit cup

- ronon wants to save him so bad 😭😭😭💗💗💗💗💗💗

- "you learned to hunt when you were 6?" I'm laughing,woolsey, have you MET HIM. NO ONE ELSE IS SURPRISED LMFAO

- ronon #1 Rodney Protector

- woolseys story about his dad with alzheimers . I get it. my grandma has that.

- "I'll take him myself"

- SHUT UP !!! PROTECTIVE RONON LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE!!!! I DONT WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER SOUND ON THIS EARTH UNLESS IT IS THIS DIALOGUE ON REPEAT

- lOVE how ronon doesnt do anything when keller says rodneys not leaving without her permission. The respect this man has for everyone

- "ronon dex"

"Thats right buddy"

DECEASED 💀 bye world it was nice knowing ya. Tattoo this dialogue on the back of my eyelids

- "hey john!" I CANT TAKE THIS

- come on keller! I get not wanting him to be in danger but I mean...if theres even a chance.....

- jeannie pulls thru 💪 off to wraith territory! I just realised thats probably not a good thing

- he recites pie in one of his videos

- Woolsey wants Rodney to know he said goodbye??? Unrealistic. Blocked

- sending a malp is a good idea. They should keep doing that

- "john!"

- oh NO hes so scared. David should really have an award for this episode

- john being so sweet 💖💖💖

- "I drink beer?" "Alot!" Lmao

- im sorry but Rodney immediately going to johns courters when he couldnt find anyone.....its true love

- "how about we say goodbye now?"

"NO"

Damn ok lol

- "pretty soon I wont remember who you are!"

"Then I'll remind you!"

I mean I have nothing to say to this

- bossy!John when hes emotional

- "youre a good friend arthur" THAT LAUGH HAD TO BE REAL. WAS THAT IMPROV. IT LOOKED LIKE IMPROV. johns laugh makes ME laugh . CUTE

- im in love with how theyre all taking turns in taking care of Rodney like making sure hes walking okay and stuff. Its amazing how much everyone loves him even though he was quite a dick in the beginning and no one liked him. I just love how much hes grown and how close they all got to each other. Thats the shit I love. Warms my heart.

- "john!"

- "jeannie?" HES BACK

- in his video log he said he keeps seeing his mom? Thats...really sad actually

- "I DIE?!?!?" oh god hes panicking again

- wow keller was right about his reaction I guess

- is this gonna be The Only Person That Can Save Him Is Him

- "save me some ham" lol

- WOW WHAT A SCREAM

- it retracted from the radiation? So its smaller.... Do the surgery!

- YES IM RIGHT !!! GO KELLER!!

- weak Rodney is good stuff

- "youve thrown an awful lot at me in very little time"

"Thats life"

OK RONON. BLUNT AS FUCK

- his goodbye video

- john helping with the surgery even tho he clearly isnt trained for this. Lord let nothing go wrong pls

- EW this is gross

- its coming out by itself??

- "you could have stepped on it"

"She told me to shoot it"

Ronon will take any opportunity to shoot things

- thats all they had to do!!!! Can you imagine.....now they can let the word out and tell everyone around the galaxy to do this when one of their elders gets the parasite! Just go to a cave and do unsanitized surgery

- "thank you" fuck my life

- "I love you. Ive loved you for some time now" THERE IT IS. what a reveal. She's crying! Oh i cant take this. I'm glad that they realise feelings after so long of knowing eachother instead of right after they met. We got to see their relationship grow!! Also someone owes me 5 bucks

- does she love him back???? DOES SHE

I NEED ANSWERS

[darley1101]

Death & Decorum Part 1: She Wants Revenge

Welcome to Death and Decorum, a 6 part miniseries that I will be posting throughout the month of October. As the title suggests it is not a love story, but one of revenge. I have done some interesting research over the last day or so and will advise you that some of the deaths depicted in this story are rather interesting and based off actual deaths that occurred in Regency England. I am very well aware that this is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, which is why I will only be tagging people who requested to be tagged by liking, reblogging, or commenting on this story's coming soon post. If you would like to be added to the tag, or even taken off, let me know. Full credit for this idea goes to @choiceslife

Warning/Triggers: Vengeful killings, mention of poison, drowning, broken neck

Death and Decorum

Part One: She Wants Revenge

Dusk was starting to fall as an unmarked carriage rolled to a stop just outside a small, out of the way apothecary. “You know what to do,” the countess ordered in a cold, distant voice. The dark haired girl sitting across from her gave a curt nod, her brown eyes shamefully studying the floor. “This is for the goods,” she pressed a coin in the girl's hand. “And this,” she jingled a small, nondescript pouch, “is for you. Twelve pieces of silver. Rather fitting don't you think?” She let out a low, emotionless chuckle when the girl's cheeks blossomed with color.

“I'm no Judas,” the girl whispered, greedily snatching the purse from the countess' fingers. “The only reason I'm doing this is my family-”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, do be a dear and fetch me what I've asked.” Eyes the color of a winter sky right before a storm bore into the girl, reminding her that the countess was not one to be trifled with. “Don't dally. I still need to dress for dinner.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The girl gathered the dark skirt of her uniform and reluctantly climbed from the carriage. The Countess watched, a cold smile stretching across her berry stained lips, as the girl entered the shoppe. It hadn't taken much to turn the girl. Word of an ailing father and the promise of silver had been all it took. Judas. Briar. Both had sold their loyalty for twelve pieces of silver and both would have innocent blood on their hands.

It rained, which was only fitting since it matched the raw, coldness building inside Rebecca Young. The sharp, skin piercing drizzle that stabbed at the world, painting it a melancholy gray, also provided the perfect cover for the tears she was incapable of producing. It was a pity, really. She wanted so desperately to feel something other than the icy hatred that was starting to course through her veins. She wanted to be the sort of daughter that dropped to her knees beside the yawning hole where her father's coffin was being lowered, screaming against the injustice of his death. To give into such urges wouldn't be ladylike, so like the good little puppet she'd become she stood quietly between the caterwauling form of her dear, dear step-mother and the sniffling mouse who clung to the arm of the countess' stoic faced son. 'The evil trifecta,' Rebecca thought bitterly. The murderous widow putting on a marvelous show of grief, the tittering twit who was too busy gathering juicy tidbits to gossip about with her betters to realize she was naught but a pawn in game she couldn't possibly win, or the mindless drone who willingly did his mother's bidding no matter how heinous the request. If it were one of those Gothic novels that were so popular, there would be a tragic heroine desperately trying to escape their nefarious clutches. Perhaps that was Rebecca's role. The grieving bastard child, too concerned with whether or not she would be tossed on the streets to properly grief. 'Never,' she curled her lips in disdain, 'I will never accept that role.'

Squaring her slender shoulders, Rebecca raised her chin a notch, her thick sooty lashes lowering over her light brown eyes while she forced herself to focus on the words coming out of the vicars mouth rather than comparing her life to the plot of tragic tale. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” The words struck a familiar chord, one buried deep beneath the gentile facade she'd carefully cultivated to please a grandmother whose love only extended as far as Rebecca's ability to procure a suitable match. For the last month she had stumbled through her own valley of death, letting the nobility slaughter any trace of the village girl that had arrived at Edgewater with a naive excitement shining in her eyes. There had been no comfort, no rod or staff to protect her, while she struggled to win the approval of a father whose life had been stolen by his inconsolable widow. Turning her head slightly, several strands of dark hair sticking to her cheek, Rebecca pierced her step-mother with a venomous look. 'From here on out I shall fear no evil,' she silently hissed, 'and you shall cower before me as I will become Edgewater's very own shadow of death. Vengeance shall have a name and that name shall be Rebecca.'

.“...and said, naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I shall return thither; the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...”

Rebecca pursed her lips into a tight, grayish blue tinged pucker to keep from yelling. 'Liar! Filthy, filthy liar!' The Lord had given Father life, had blessed Rebecca with his affections for three glorious weeks, but the Almighty surely hadn't taken him away. His life had been stolen, wrung from his body with a poison served up by a 'loving' wife. Rebecca would give the Countess her due; she'd chosen carefully, selecting a poison that mimicked the dreaded yellow fever. 'And now she plays the part of grieving widow', Rebecca internally sneered. 'She's allowed her desperation to turn her into a novel cliché, a desperate villianess willing to sacrifice the innocent in her quest to hold on to something that was never meant to be hers.' The greatest tragedy, was Rebecca would have cared for her like a mother had the viper but shown her an ounce of affection. Instead, the countess had let her own diabolical nature twist even the smallest kindness into a sinister ploy.

“We know not why these tragedies occur.”

The lie slid easily off the tongue of the vicar. If not for the man's love of his own voice, the burial would have already concluded, father planted in the ground. Instead, the vicar continued to spoon feed deceitful words of comfort that allowed the countess to continue her theatrical display, while Rebecca could practically feel the black crepe dress her grandmother insisted she wear starting to melt. The light weight silk wasn't meant for such dampness, nor were the jet embellished slippers she wore beneath it. Not that the countess cared. She had ignored propriety by wearing a rich velvet gown designed to show case her bosom, which heaved mightily with each over exaggerated sob, and hugged her other physical assets. It was humiliating. Bad enough she was going to get away with murdering father but had she not class? Could she not at least put on a good performance and appropriately dress the part? Rebecca's fingers twisted in the delicate lawn handkerchief her grandmother had insisted she openly carry. Appearances, even in death, must be upheld. 'Unless you're the countess, then you ignore propriety in favor of dressing like some Drury lane doxy. It's alright of course, she's a grieving widow.'

“Can you believe her, that dress is absolutely scandalous,” someone behind them whispered. “I'm surprised the Dowager allowed her out in such a dress.”

“It's bait for the next one, no doubt,” another whispered. “I heard the Earl left everything to his bastard.”

Sucking in her cheeks, Rebecca bit down on the delicate flesh. The sharp pain and the coppery taste of blood were a perfect distraction from the drawing room gossip that was starting to seep into the memorial. Turning on them, demanding that they show some respect, would shift the focus off her step mother and onto herself. Aside from the one painfully true smear about her birth, the gossip was centered on the countess and Rebecca would like to keep it that way.

“Worry about her dress all you like, my concerns lie in whether or not she's contagious. If what I've heard is true, she spent every moment in his sick room. Mark my words, we'll be burying her next.”

The truth burned on Rebecca's tongue, begging to be released. She held it in, knowing her words would fall on deaf ears. With the exception of her grandmother, the rest of the world believed that her father truly had somehow contracted and succumbed to the yellow fever. And while it was doubtful that the countess had spent more than a passing moment by her ailing husband's side, that wasn't what society believed. Poor, devoted countess. Twas a pity that poison wasn't contagious. 'It could be,' a voice whispered in her ear. 'No one would question it. They're already suspecting it. Why not give them what they want?'

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