#and I was taking a bath cause sick and this got longer and longer

[chaoticace2005]

I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how the exorcists look like demons, and while I do understand where the complaint is coming from I also wanted to talk about how them looking like that kind of supports the narrative.

I’m going to start this off by staying this is from a perspective looking at the narrative presented to us in the Hellaverse, not any specific religion because 1) I am an atheist who doesn’t have the knowledge or background for making any calls on that and 2) the canon hasn’t confirmed this adheres to a specific belief system. There’s Adam and Eve and Hell and Heaven and yes, but this show arguably works as a parody of all of that.

Now that that’s established, I want to bring up one of the main points in the show: the idea that those in Heaven and Hell aren’t that different. In Helluva we’re shown the experiences of hell-born, and we even see cherubs later on who seem to fulfill the parallel role of them in Heaven (with the IMP vs CHERUB fight.) We also know that Lucifer was an angel in this canon. So some of the characters with the most authority in those domains are from the same stock.

The main difference seems to be punishment. Lucifer was punished for his actions and was given those who were deemed “Sinners.” The Hell born seem to be just natives living there and many seem to be products of their environment. So while Sinners may be “bad” and Winners “good”, all those born in Heaven or Hell have no reason for being there.

Whether exorcists are brought to heaven or made there, there is still that view of superiority. The way Lute talks makes it clear she’d be willing to kill the hellborn if she could, despite them not having done anything to be there like the Sinners. It’s similar to how some people born into high economic status view those born into lower. It’s just luck of the draw but now you have access to different opportunities and that influences the way you view others. Those born in Heaven probably look at those born in Hell and argue that if hellborn aren’t bad, then why does Hell suck? Ignoring the fact that Hell is established for the purpose of containing Sinners, who often end up being more powerful that the majority of hellborn.

Even some of the Sinners likely fall into that issue where people who gave to endure harsher environments may have to resort to more extreme measures to get by, and then punishment for it just causes them to need to do even more because their conditions worsened. As seen with the rate of people who keep returning to prison. With Hell some may have fallen down this path (think of Angel, who was born into a crime family, it’s likely a lot easier to fall into drug addiction then when you have access and more things you’d like to forget, but drug addiction can be a slippery slope and the other stuff he needed to do to survive basically condemned him.) Obviously not all Sinners fall into this category and are just monstrous pieces of shit, but they likely isn’t the case for everyone.

Then, once you get to Hell it’s essentially a larger prison, except you aren’t separated and are given powers, causing some of the more malicious individuals to rise up and acquire power, making it even more of a nightmare for everyone else. This continues that cycle of having to do certain things to survive. Similar to have in jail that fear of getting hurt by some violent people make you align yourself with slightly less violent people. Except now in Hell there’s that added issue: there’s no escape.

(Also, Hell is a prison but you STILL have to pay rent and work to survive, so you really get the added stress of both worlds.)

Anyway, this whole cycle causes a similar effect to the growing class disparity we see in many countries. Those on top (Heaven) continue to have power while those lower have to deal with most of the burden. Reinforcing that belief in exorcists that Heaven is “good” and Hell is “bad” because they are unable to see the full picture. They just see it as “they blew their shot” without thinking of why that may be or considering the people who didn’t even have a choice being there— like how some people blame others in poverty for being that way because “they are lazy.” That’s not even remotely the full picture. But because certain things come easy for you it’s hard to understand why it can’t come easy for others.

Exorcists are then given the excuse and opportunity to kill others, people who they believe are lesser than them. And some take genuine joy out of it, yet they continue to see themselves as the “good guys” because that’s what they are and the others “deserve it.” And this shows how when some people are given the opportunity and reason to be assholes they’ll take it- millionaires don’t HAVE to exploit their employees, but they view it as being to their benefit and helping the bottom line.

So now, both exorcists and those in hell have reason and excuse to be violent, albeit for very different reasons. Yet because of this exorcists are still “good” and those in hell are “bad.” And this is largely because of the lack of consequences for their actions. Heaven reinforces their behavior, before episode 8 there was no push back from Hell, so they could continue to use their reasoning as an excuse to kill others.

They’re blind and don’t see it though. They only see the world from one perspective, which is ironic given the exorcist mask is missing an eye. They can put masks on and hurt others and then take them off without dealing with the consequences. They “go down” to the level of the very people they despise and then write it all off, because they have the comfort of taking their masks off at the end. Of having a choice.

It’s also interesting how their masks don’t resemble sinners but Hellborn. Which almost reminds me of mocking another’s culture while actively hurting them. They may not be able to physically hurt hellborn, but they’re still viewed through the same lens as Sinners. They’re still “bad.” So exorcists can don caricatures of their appearances, go around “pretending” to be them by committing violent acts, and when they’re done they can take it off. As I’m writing this I’m now thinking about how in the past black-face has been used to reinforce racist stereotypes, making racist caricatures.

This also camouflage in a way, maybe they were previously asked to “fit in” before things got all crazy, and when told to look for “demon disguises” they all fall back onto the stereotype and dressed up like that.

The usage of exorcists wearing demon-looking masks could be them both “playing bad” while also clearly showing the fact that at the core people aren’t so different. For as much as they hate those in hell, they’re just as likely to fall into the same traps and patterns as them.

Having written this all now, I wanted to bring up Vaggie. Vaggie who took her exorcist mask off to show sympathy for someone only to be punished and marked with an “X” that mirrors her mask. Vaggie who previously was part of the “elite”, where she could forgo consequences until she couldn’t for not following them and was cast out, being permanently marked. Vaggie, who was previously allowed given the gift to “play bad” due to being in Heaven, but when she was cast out “playing bad” wasn’t an option anymore. Taking off her mask can’t get rid of mistakes anymore, and now she has to display them for the world to see.

I don’t know if the “X” was intentional on her part or irony, but if she did choose it it could also be her recognizing her role in the system. Her realizing she can’t go back and using the “X” to remind her of what she’s done. Because she doesn’t have the luxury of pretending she’s a good person anymore— she doesn’t want to forget.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:17 pm]

(cw: “ass”, parents!au, parental stress)

You felt like you were going absolutely crazy. You hadn’t had longer than 4 hours of sleep in weeks. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a proper shower, you’re pretty sure you had 3-day-old baby sick on your shirt, and the house was a mess.

There were mountains of laundry to be done, piles of dishes that kept growing, the trash was overflowing. The state of your home reflected how you felt. And it wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t Jaehyun’s. It was a joint feeling of feeling like there weren’t enough hours in a day mixed with the overwhelming stress of having a colicky baby.

Your poor daughter, for days she had been crying and crying for no apparent reason. She was just a few months old, but her fits of distress were worse than normal baby cries. She had no fever, she was kept fed, her diapers were kept clean, there were no signs of teething. She just didn’t feel good and it broke your heart to see her in distress.

Jaehyun was out right now, on a mission to finally find a formula that would sit well with her in case it was the formula that was making her uncomfortable. You were trying your best to quickly throw a load in the washer while her tiny sniffles calmed down in her bouncer.

It had been 6 minutes since she had last let out a cry, 3 minutes since you set her down, and you were going to use this time to your advantage. You couldn’t handle the mess of the home on top of being overwhelmed with your crying baby.

You shut the washer, hitting start and immediately heard her poor cries, deep and throaty. She was wailing. Her tiny face was scrunched up and red. You cradled her, rocking her as you walked up and down the halls of your home. You shushed her to try to calm her, pat her bottom, swayed back and forth, and still her cries persisted.

You looked down at her, feeling helpless as you finally sat on the couch and let tears fill your eyes. You felt useless. You had tried everything to help her feel better, her pediatrician said there was no apparent cause for her discomfort, you had tried 4 different formulas, you tried various pacifiers, white noise machines, everything. The only other option was letting her cry alone in her crib, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her alone in such a state.

You kept her cradled closely to your chest as you cried, hot tears falling down your cheeks. Tears of frustration and your own distress. It felt like this stage was never going to end. It had been days of having a baby attached at your side or Jaehyun’s. Neither of you could be too far from her.

Jaehyun opened the door, kicking off his shoes, and immediately went to the kitchen ready to make a bottle for his daughter in the hopes that she would soon feel better. Her tiny cries broke his heart as he expertly made her bottle, warm water, a scoop of powder, mix. Before he left he grabbed a plastic syringe and filled it with gripe water, before finally making his way toward the cries of his daughter.

But he stopped upon seeing your overwhelmed face. “Honey, baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, taking the baby into his arms while he cupped your cheek with his free hand.

You shook your head, wiping your cheeks, “I can’t help her! She just keeps crying! The house is a mess, I’m a mess, I’m tired, I’m hungry, I stink, I feel like I’m going crazy, but I can’t rest until I know she’s okay.”

Jaehyun felt his heart break, he knew the feeling, he nodded thinking quickly on his feet, “you go take a bath or a shower. Take all the time you want, let me handle her, alright?”

“I can’t leave you alone-”

Jaehyun interrupted you, “you can and you will. You let me sleep in this morning and now I get to help you. I have more energy to deal with her. I got her a fancy ass organic formula, I have gripe water, I got this. We got this, honey. Go.”

You nod, pressing a loving, grateful kiss to his cheek as you leave the living room, hesitating because the baby continues to cry. Jaehyun shoos you away, finally turning to his daughter her had calmed down just a fraction. He gives her the gripe water, giving her the new formula as he hopes and prays that this will soothe her and get her through this colicky phase.

Her small sniffles calm down, tears no longer streaming down her small face, but he swipes away the streaks anyway. She drinks eagerly, her eyes drooping shut very slowly. The bottle is nearly empty as she finally falls asleep and the suckles on the bottle stop. Jaehyun props her onto his shoulder as he pats her back to burp her.

You come back out, hair wet and dressed in fresh clothes. You look so much more refreshed and alive. Jaehyun smiles at you softly as you settle beside him and lay your head on his free shoulder. Seeing you look worlds calmer than just minutes ago and the familiar sweet smell of your body wash, eased his stress and worries. He knows his family is alright, everything will be alright.

You stare adoringly at the two people you love most in the world, “thank you. I could never do this without you. And I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“You don’t have to apologize, my love. You knew I freaked out yesterday and let me rest some more. We’re a team, we have to have each other’s backs for little miss over here. Do you feel better?” He asks you in a low voice.

“Much better. I folded a load of laundry so now you have some clean t-shirts and my shower was great. Thank you, honey.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m doing the bare minimum,” he stops his pattern of patting and rubbing his daughters back as she finally burps, “there we go.”

Jaehyun carefully sets her down in her bouncer and turns to you, whispering, “you take out the trash and I’ll start loading the dishwasher.”

You give him a mock salute, pressing a peck to his lips before heading to the kitchen. He turns to his daughter and watches her chest rise and fall for a few moments before heading off to the kitchen behind you.

That night you and Jaehyun are finally able to sleep through the night, your daughter sleeps peacefully in her bassinet. All thanks to that organic formula that costs more than a meal for the two of you.

[srvbryn]

Luke sick and Reader taking care of him

Luke Castellan. Sick

Luke Castellan X Gn!reader (no specific godly parent)

Summary: Dumbass Castellan is sick <3

Warning: none!

I did write a similar one shot abt Luke being sick if you're interested you can read it <33 WOUNDS

A/n: I read on the wiki that demigods are more resistant to disease than regular mortals, but I'm here to feed Luke apologists 🤷

*spreads folds* 🫱(())🫲

When you realise Luke isn't at the training ground during sparring time, you become concerned and rush to cabin 11.

"Luke?"

He groaned, a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead as his hair stuck to it. He was sweating profusely with a worried expression on his face - he was probably having nightmares :(

You place your hand on his forehead and notice how much he's burning, which causes you to panic because no human should be this hot (literally).

He despises it when people treat him like a baby. He's 19 years old, for fuck sakes. So when he notices that it was you he immediately calms down and asks what are you doing inside Hermes Cabin.

"Didn't see you during sparring today, I'm worried" you say with a chuckle.

You are not Apollo's children, but that did not stop you from trying to care for him.

"(Name)," Luke said, his voice barely audible. "I don't need you to babysit me. "I am perfectly fine."

You raised your eyebrow, unimpressed. "Okay, Castellan. That is why you are lying here sweating profusely, as if you just got out of the shower."

"just wait here alright? I'm making some tea for you"

A soft glow emanated from a crackling fireplace as Luke lay nestled under layers of blankets, caught in the clutches of a pesky fever.

(Name) busied themselves preparing a steaming mug of herbal tea.

With a gentle touch, (Name) handed the tea to Luke, their eyes reflecting concern. "Here's some tea to chase away the chills. You'll be back on your feet in no time, Luke."

Luke, wrapped in a blanket burrito, managed a faint smile. "Lucky me to have you as my caretaker, (Name)."

Chuckling, (Name) settled beside him. "Consider it my heroic duty to nurse you back to health."

Throughout the day, (Name) decided to stay longer by Luke side. Playing cards games with him, and entertaining him with stories.

As the afternoon sun dipped low, casting an amber hue into the cabin, (Name) remarked with a playful grin, "You're not fooling anyone, Luke. Even demigods get sick."

Luke's eyes sparkled, "Well, having you here makes this fever a little more bearable."

As Luke lay wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, (Name) noticed beads of sweat on his forehead. They brushed his hair away, murmuring soothing words. "There, much better. We can't have Camp Half Blood golden boy looking too disheveled, can we?"

Luke chuckle, his eyes grateful for the small act of care. "You're spoiling me, (Name)."

(name) proceeded to place a cool towel on Luke's forehead, their fingers lingering for a moment longer. "Just trying to bring your temperature down. Don't want you turning into a demigod popsicle on my watch."

As the sun continued its descent, bathing the cabin in a soft morning glow.

"now, for the grand finale of my healing repertoire: the magical breakfast concoction." With a flourish, they presented a tray of pancakes adorned with a smiley face made of syrup.

Luke's eyes widened in amusement. "Is this the secret to your demigod spa service?"

(Name) nodded with mock seriousness, "Absolutely. Pancakes have healing properties, didn't you know?"

"It's check-up time, my dear," you playfully remark, leaning your elbow on the nearby table and placing your hand on his forehead.

"You're officially discharged from the demigod spa. It seems my care did the trick."

Luke, smiled gratefully. "I must admit, your spa services are top-notch. Better than ambrosia."

With a playful nudge, (Name) teased, "Well, I hope you don't catch another fever anytime soon, but if you do, you know where to find the demigod spa services."

Luke grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

[xsolaresx]

daryl dixon.: love goes through the fire

pairings: daryl dixon x fem! reader wife!

summary: after being kidnapped and tortured by Negan, the reader does everything she can to make Daryl feel better.

warnings: angst! sad! graphic description of Glenn and Abraham's death! mention of torture! only depression from here on!

word count: 3,9k

Author @xsolaresx  

notes: English is not my first language, so there may be some grammatical errors.

The noise still bothered me every night. Whenever my eyes closed, even for just a second, the sound of the bat repeatedly hitting Abraham's skull and then Glenn's tormented me. 

One hit after another, and at the end Negan's diabolical laughter. 

I could still feel Glenn's blood dripping down to my knees, I was so close to him that after it was over I was covered in his blood and the scraps of skin that flew off. No matter how many baths I forced myself to take, that sticky feeling of fresh blood never left my skin. And sometimes I still found a patch of my skin with a crimson tinge impregnated in it. 

My dark circles told anyone who saw me that I hadn't slept for days. I kept reliving the moment like an endless loop in my head. I still remember how that day began, that week, that month, how the whole situation ended the way it did. 

Hilltop had enemies, and Alexandria needed food. One thing led to another. 

First the massacre at the outpost, then the kidnapping of Carol and Maggie. Everyone had questions about whether it was the right thing to do, whether killing so many people was worth it, whether it was worth seeing another sunrise under so much blood. 

But Carol felt more, the deaths she had caused were beyond counting on her hands. We all kill to survive, but she was molded in this world, she wasn't raised with Rick's hero instinct, or the strength that the trauma and torture that Daryl suffered at the hands of his father and brother did to him. It was too much for her, she couldn't look us in the eye anymore, so she ran away from everything and everyone. 

There was no concrete reason for so many deaths, they were evil, weren't they? They killed people, and they die at the hands of our people. We did what had to be done. We saved a community from the so-called Saviors, but it couldn't have been that easy, there were more of them, there always would be. 

Daryl had to see it first hand. Denise died in front of him by her crossbow. It made him furious, we saved Dwight in the burning bush, helped him and his wife only for him to do something terrible in the end. Daryl had shown them a way, but they couldn't believe that was salvation.

He had to go back there, he had to finish what he didn't finish. He thought it was his fault that Tara no longer had a girlfriend. If only I could have stopped him before...

Everything happened so fast, Maggie got sick, we had to get her to Hilltop. I thought I'd meet Daryl at night, in our room, I'd arrive and he'd be waiting for me, he'd apologize for leaving unannounced, we'd talk and make things right, and then we'd sleep together and have a new day. 

But that day never came. 

They surrounded us on the road, left us with no way out and took us exactly where they wanted us. The frightening whistles were the prelude to something much worse to come. After that I only remember seeing Daryl shot and bleeding being dragged to the wheel, Abraham offering himself up and dying by the bat. 

Little by little I saw the terror forming in Rick's eyes. In all the years I've been with him leading this group, this was the first time I'd seen the elder Grimes lost, with no way out and praying that this madman wouldn't take someone else from our family. 

But Dixon got angry, he tried to get to Negan. And the next thing I knew, the bat with the barbed wire was next to my face. Daryl screamed so much, screamed, cried. 

"It's all right, my love. I love you, it wasn't your fault” I could only look at him, knowing that he would be the last thing I saw before I left calmed me down. 

Negan started smiling and swinging his baseball bat between the two of us. "What the fuck! Let's see what we've got here, guys."  

“P-please... no-no” 

“You'd better shut the fuck up, Rick! Or your dear son's next.” Negan shouted when Grimes tried to intervene, he knew that if I died Daryl would never be the same. "So you're a couple? Dwight's best friend has a wife? hohoho this just gets more interesting!"

“If you lay a finger on her I'll kill you, you bastard!” Daryl wasn't the type to take a beating quietly, even though he was losing blood and had a gun to his head he was going to try and fight back.

“Ah, but I'll remember that very well, dear Daryl... You know what... I'm tired of all this, why don't we just get it over with, huh?” The next thing I saw was blood gushing everywhere. One second I had Glenn, my best friend, the person who had saved me in so many ways by my side, and the next I had a lifeless body. 

Daryl was taken away that night, as a guarantee that we would stay on the line. And only God knows what happened to him during those days.

I couldn't bear to see him so bruised and dirty the first time the Saviors came to Alexandria. That wasn't my Daryl anymore, he looked so fragile, wounded, defeated. He was no longer the survivor who could take it all.

“No! He's my servant now, you don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and I don't make you cut off any part of his body.” Negan shouted when Rick tried to talk to Dixon. “And that goes for everyone, even his wife, understand?” I couldn't walk away, I needed to hug Daryl, tell him that everything was going to be okay and that I was there, but I couldn't risk someone else in our family, so I just turned and walked to our house, mine and Daryl's, unable to hold back the tears any longer. The last thing I heard was Negan's shrill laughter. “That one knows how to take orders, Rick!”

A few days had passed since then, we hadn't heard from Daryl, Maggie was hiding in Hilltop, which was under threat from the Saviors. Rick went out every day in search of supplies for the Saviors, and I... couldn't leave the house. I couldn't leave the room, the bed where I could still smell Daryl.

Frantic knocks started at my door, and when I opened it, I saw Gabriel. "He's back, Y/N. He hasn't done anything yet, but he's back with Carl, they're at Rick's now and he's not back from his run with Aaron yet. I-I don't, we don't know what to do, Judith is there with them and..."

"Gabriel, breathe. It's okay.” I held the priest by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. Everyone was lost, scared. “Tell everyone to stay in their homes, they mustn't have come for anything else, so don't provoke them, okay?” 

“But Judith... I... I promised Rick I'd look after her...” 

“I'll go, okay?” I grabbed my sweater and left the house in the direction of Rick's. If Carl is back with Negan, it means that the boy went after him planning some revenge. He's so young, but he harbors so much anger, he's lost so much to this world. 

“Hold it right there, cutie,” one of Negan's henchmen stopped me on the front steps of the house. 

“I want to talk to him.”

“You can let her through, let's hear what the wife has to say” I stared at the man until he got out of my way. I was angry, the way he called me 'wife' only reminded me that every day Daryl was in prison, being tortured by him. “Hello, my dear, to what do I owe your presence in my humble abode?” Negan was sitting on the balcony with Judith on his lap asleep, Carl was next to him without the bandage on his eye with a sad and angry expression. I completely ignored the killer and turned to the boy.

“Are you all right, Carl?”

“Yeah. I'm fine, he didn't do anything,” he replied, lowering his head. I turned to Negan, who didn't look the least bit happy at being ignored. 

“I want to see him.”

“You're going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

"I want to see my husband, see if he's alive. You can search me, I don't have any weapons after you took them all. Take me with you to him." A devilish smile appeared on his face. 

“You know, I can see that you don't look so good after I took your man, but I don't know if I was very clear when I said that he's now my servant, maybe you won't like what you see, your husband isn't the most sociable.”

"I know he's not, but I've seen worse. I need to see him alive, it's okay if he's dirty." 

"Ah girl, you're a tough nut to crack. But I understand, I can't go too many days without seeing my wives, Carl here has met some of them and he can tell you how hot they are! Tell you what, I'll talk to Rick, we'll settle up and if I'm still in a good mood you can come with me." 

“Thanks”

“Oh how I like that word, thank you.” Then Spencer arrived, started his plan to take Rick out and ended up dying. Eugene was going to be taken away for making the bullet. 

“You're gonna take me, right?” I shouted as Negan neared the gate, about to leave. 

"Y/N... what? No." Rick tried to approach but I moved away, I needed to see Daryl.

“I almost forgot the wife, search her, you're coming with me in the truck”

I kept quiet the whole way, blindfolded, the truck had three seats, the driver was some kind of savior who kept quiet and Negan made me stay in the middle of them in case I decided to jump out during the journey. 

“I told them to give your husband a bath, you know, to make him look more presentable, but no intimate visits, I don't want him to get too comfortable with all this” Negan said when we stopped in front of a room. “I also took him out of his cell, that's no place for a lady like you, my love”. When the door opened I saw Daryl in the corner of the room, a little cleaner, but cowering in the dark with an angry look on his face, but when he saw me he turned away from the wall in anguish. Dwight was in the other corner, standing guard. “I thought you guys would be more comfortable with an acquaintance on guard.”

“Not the best, but thanks,” I said between my teeth, looking at Dwight, who couldn't take his eyes off Daryl.

"What the fuck, baby! If you thank me one more time I won't be able to let you go, you've become my favorite." Then he left, closing the door. I ran over to Dixon, throwing myself into his arms, but he didn't return the hug, still focused on the other man in the room. 

"No, no, please, look at me, darling. Don't focus on him, focus on me, please.” I ran my hands over his face and turned him towards me, tears starting to well up in my eyes when I saw the bandage on his shoulder where he had been shot. “I missed you so much, are you okay?”

“I don't think he's going to say much, he probably doesn't even remember how he does it, does he Daryl?” 

"Shut the fuck up Dwight! If you don't I'll come over there and smash your face in” I turned to him who just laughed weakly and left the room. 

“You have to get out of here, you can't stay, I can't protect you... them... them” his voice was broken, as if he hadn't spoken for days. 

“Shiii, it's okay, I just came to see you, he's taking me back, we made a deal... What did they do to you, darling?”

“It was my fault”

"What? No, it wasn't, everything's fine at home, everyone's fine” He pulled my hand away from his face, moving away from me. 

“It was my fault, Glenn, then Maggie, she died because of me” 

“My goodness, no” I moved closer to him so that no one would hear. "Maggie's fine, the baby's fine, we did it so he wouldn't get suspicious. Everyone's fine” Daryl pulled me into a long-suffering kiss and began to cry, grabbing me in a hug, I sat on the floor with him still clinging to me. Dixon looked so broken, he wasn't the same strong guy who did everything for Rick. We stayed like that for a few hours, I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him down, he didn't sleep, he was on the lookout for any threat, but he closed his eyes, enjoying the affection. Until our bubble burst when someone opened the door. Daryl got up at a speed I didn't think he could manage, weakened like that, and promptly stood in front of me, protecting me from whoever came in. 

"Visiting hours are over, honey. I hope you didn't take your clothes off after Dwight left." Negan entered the room with a smug smile, covering his eyes with his bat. 

“I'm very well dressed, much to your displeasure,” I said, getting up and standing next to Daryl, who promptly grabbed my hand. "I have to get back, but nobody's forgotten you here, okay? We'll get you out of this, sweetheart."

“I wouldn't be so sure, but now Laura will take you back, and I hope your puppy behaves better after the visit.” Negan left and a blonde woman came in, waving us out.

I hugged Daryl one last time, kissing his forehead and left the room. 

The days passed more melancholy and with preparations for the war against the Saviors approaching. Rick got help from the people at the Dump. We were on our way to Hilltop to talk to Maggie and get her support. 

But when the gates opened, my vision blurred with tears... Daryl was there, a little shy, but waiting for us halfway. 

I threw my backpack on the floor and ran as fast as I could to him, his arms already open waiting for me, and he kissed me with such urgency that I lost my breath. We stayed like that for a few minutes, crying and hugging, until Rick approached us in silence, his smile unmistakable. 

I broke away from Dixon, making room for Rick and the others to hug him. Joyful laughter with tears coming out of me. 

_______________________________

“We can't try anything without Hilltop's weapons, we have a lot of personnel, but it's still too little, and we're vulnerable that way.” Maggie said after we left Gregory's room, the asshole would rather spend his whole life under threat than fight back. 

“She's right, but maybe I know someone who'd be interested in helping... they call themselves The Kingdom.” Jesus intervenes, from the corner of the room, where we're hugging, Daryl squeezes my hand with an air of hope and I can't help but smile at him with confidence too.

“Do you think they'd be allies in the war?” Rick asks, shifting in his seat. The situation isn't the best, I realize that now. I was so numb from missing Daryl that I didn't focus on protecting the community, and Rick had to handle it alone. 

“They also suffer threats from the Saviors, but the community doesn't know about it, only the leader and people they trust.” 

“He doesn't want to create panic or riots for no reason,” I say and everyone agrees. “So, what are we waiting for?” With a nod from Rick, everyone leaves the mansion and heads for their cars. The whole time Daryl didn't let go of my hand and I didn't make a point of complaining, he wasn't one to show much affection in the midst of so many people, but after everything that happened to him, I understand. 

The Kingdom was very large, with many warriors training and many families, protected and happy. I squeeze Dixon's hand tighter when I see a couple with a newborn baby surrounded by elderly women. He stares at the couple and lowers his head.

When we enter the auditorium, the first thing that catches our eye is the huge tigress sitting next to a guy on a kind of throne. Rick shies away from approaching her, but they talk normally. Until Morgan appears, and Daryl asks me quietly where Carol is. “It's a delicate subject, but if Morgan's here she must be all right, you know she's tough.” He nods, even though his curiosity isn't quenched, he knows it's not time.

The King didn't accept our proposal, but gave Daryl the freedom to take refuge in the Kingdom for as long as he needed. 

“We need to go Y/N, they can go into Alexandria after Daryl.” Rick appeared next to us as I was saying goodbye to Dixon, I nodded and he walked away. 

“It's temporary, when this is over you're not leaving my side anymore, okay?” I held Daryl's cheeks and he bowed his head sadly. 

“I want to go with you, I want to help put an end to this”

"You'll help, my love. Staying here, safe. Maybe you can convince the King, we need him."

“You know I'm not that diplomatic”

“Let's look at this situation as an opportunity, what do you think?” I smile to break the mood, Daryl gives a sad smile. “I'll never leave you, my love” I say more seriously so that he feels the truth, these days away from him were the worst and I don't want it to happen again.

_______________________________

“Look, look, look, Rick Grimes has come to greet me on my doorstep!” Negan and his henchmen arrived shortly after we got back from the Kingdom, someone up there is surely on our side. "I love seeing your abandoned dog face, Rick, but today my business is with your little friend's wife. Why don't you bring her to me?" 

Rick nods begrudgingly, turns and starts walking towards the main house where we were all gathered, waiting for some sign of Grimes. 

“He wants to talk to you.” Rick approaches and says quietly. “Be careful, he's unpredictable.” 

"That's all right, Rick. I'll put him in his place, I've had enough of this.” I walk away quickly, anger overflowing just knowing that because of him my Daryl is shaken. 

“Y/N, no, wait.” Rick tries to stop me, but it's too late, I'm striding hard towards Negan. 

“I hear you want to talk to me.” That maniac's smile only gets wider when he sees me.   

"Oh, hello, darling. How are you? Miss your husband?" 

“You've got to be kidding... of course I miss him, if you don't remember you took him away from me and I'm very possessive of what's mine,” I say through my teeth. If he thinks I'm going to be compassionate and keep my mouth shut, he's mistaken.

"Wow, that's what I like about you, darling. You're tough as nails,” he says with a mischievous laugh. "The problem is that your husband was very moved by your visit, you know? And he must have thought it was a loophole for an escape." 

“Wait, what?” I say exasperated, I've always loved acting. “You mean you've lost my husband?” 

“I thought you could help me find him.” 

“You're unbelievable...” I whisper indignantly. “If you think he's here you can look, have your goons search every house, every manhole or cupboard in this place.”

“You're always a refreshment to me, darling, you always know what I want.” I roll my eyes as he sends his men to search Alexandria. 

As expected, they find nothing and leave, promising to return next week to collect supplies. 

“I have to go, Rick,” I warn Grimes. To avoid the risk of them following me, I waited a few hours after they left, and night came. I need to see Daryl, he won't stay another night thinking we've abandoned him. He gets up from the rocking chair on the porch of his house with Judith on his lap and approaches.

“Okay, but be careful, make sure no one's following you.” Rick hugs me in his fatherly way. We were always close like brothers, after I lost everything Rick was there as a leader for everyone. “And send him a hug, tell him we miss him.” 

“I will.” I say goodbye to him and kiss the head of a sleepy Judith, who gives me a smile. I grab a car and head out through the cellars of Alexandria, towards the Kingdom, towards Daryl.

_______________________________

“She's magnificent” Daryl was standing next to Shiva's cage when I arrived at the Kingdom. Quiet and shrunken, just stroking the snout of the tigress who melted at his touch.

“She is.” he confirms with a frown. I moved closer until I could see tears forming in his eyes. I quickly bent down, sat next to him and hugged him tightly, which he reciprocated. 

"It's all right now, my love. I'm here, you're not going to stay away from me any longer.” I tried to calm his crying, which was only getting more intense. I've never seen Daryl so broken, he seemed to be accumulating all the suffering, the pain, waiting to fall apart on me. He would never do that to anyone else. 

“I got scared.” Daryl says after he calms down. “I was afraid of losing you too, losing our family.” 

“You're not going to lose me, ever.” 

“But what if it does?” Daryl lifts his head with a more serious look. "When they tortured me, all I could think about was you, that you'd be alone out here, unprotected. They could do anything to you to make me accept the fact that I was nothing in that place. And I felt like nothing."

“No, no, no.” I pull Daryl's face so that he pays close attention to me. “You're not going to lose me, you know why? Because your wife is strong, she'll go through hell to pull you out of the fire and when I can't do it anymore I'll have our whole family helping me, because I love you, Daryl, we love you. That's what love does, it turns us into fighters, people who would do anything for the one they love. I love you, Daryl.” Tears flowed non-stop from my eyes and Daryl's.

“I love you, Y/N” His lips met mine fervently, it was a needy kiss, as if he had been thirsty for days and I was his oasis in the desert. I gave myself completely to him, wanting more and more all the time. 

We were too wrapped up in our bubble, completely forgetting that Shiva was still in the cage next door, and an imposing roar from her broke us out of this bubble of lust. 

“I don't think she likes not being the center of attention,” we laughed when we noticed the tigress's angry face at being left out. 

“She'll have to accept it, because now my only attention is on my wife.” 

[nebbyy]

How would Baldwin react if reader got sick?

King Baldwin x reader - sickness

A/N: I'm loving all this king Baldwin enthusiasm, I've been waiting for this moment for ages omfg!!! (little 10 year old me is screaming now that I have the chance to write for my historical crush).

Btw I don't know if I should be making all the fancy set up for all headcanons of him (like, author's note, warning and painting), the last posts didn't have it because it didn't seem fit to me but you let me know

Psssst painting is "Paolo and Francesca" by Frank Dicksee

Warning: none, sickness maybe?

Oh boy

You wouldn't be able to leave your bed.

Sickness was a big deal back then, you could easily die form a cold, so ain't no way that he's taking any more risks.

To be honest the climate was less brutal in Jerusalem than Europe, which was even colder than modern times (and living in Switzerland I can assure you that it gets REALLY cold).

He would insist on keeping you in his quarters, always near his sight, and when he had to leave to attend to his royal duties you'd be surrounded by his best physicians to take care of you.

But he would like it best when he's the one tending to you, it's one of the most intimate moments he gets with his beloved

He'd use a wet cloth to clean your face of the sweat, gently caress your body while he orders to get some ice from his servants to cool your body down

Incense would fill the room to ease your mind and make the ambience more comfortable for you to rest

He'd love to bathe you, hold your weakened body as he frees you of that sickly sticky feeling that has been clinging to your body for the past days

It would take you some convincing to let him sleep with you in the same bed to be honest, as he would've been too scared to be that close to you while you're so weakened already

Because, what if in this state your body is so weak and ill already that it makes it easier for you to contract leprosy as well? He wouldn't survive the guilt of knowing that he'd be the cause of your demise

He would've only relented after seeing your pleading eyes, begging to have him close to you at night, to not be left alone, to not have to suffer his absence too

But all his worries would be washed away once he got to feel your body close to his once again, see your droopy eyes looking at him and your weak smile of gratitude for his closeness

Then, once you would've fallen asleep, he would hold you a close as possible, kissing your boiling hot forehead while he prayed God to let you live, to let you stay with him just a little longer

And he was sure his prayers had been listened once he wakes up to the sight of you, smiling at him with renewed strength, your body once again fresh to the touch

You were healed, and he couldn't have been more happy even if he'd woken up healed by leprosy himself

[furiousgoldfish]

If you're often wondering why do abusers do this to kids, and why they don't change their behaviour even when it's pointed out, I have a few insights to share.

I believe abuse is an easy way for people to get out of parenting their own kids, while still getting credit as if they're doing it. And even more, they get special privileges and resources that normal parents wouldn't try to get, because the price of them is too high for the children to pay.

For instance, in order to take care of a child, you have to deal with their development needs; meaning you need to be educated enough about human development to know why the child is acting the way they do, you need to know if they need guidance, support, boundaries, stability, schedules, or entertainment, fun, play-time, attention, comforting, more resources, more interaction. You also need to deal with their random behaviours, like children will sometimes get loud and careless, break stuff, cause damage, turn against you, get sick, get into bad moods, get sulky, throw tantrums, get stuck in bad groups of people or be predated upon, have trouble at school, wander off, develop mental illness, and as a parent, you are expected and required to be there for all of that, on top of regularly caring that they're well-fed, bathed, that they have fitting and functional clothing, that they're well socialized, and that their living condition is clean and functional enough for them to be happy and safe.

Now, if you're an abuser, and your child is struggling or giving you any of the random behaviours that annoy you, and you lash out at them, tell them nobody is ever going to love them, threaten to 'give them a reason to cry', yell at them until they get frozen in shock and pain, they're not going to come to you next time for help. In fact, it's unlikely they'll feel safe around you to exhibit half of their normal behaviour, instead they'll be sheepish and too scared they'll accidentally annoy you, so you won't have to hear about their day, their bad moods, their worries, their loudness, them making any trouble for you; in fact, your mental energy will be yours only and you will effectively not have to emotionally raise a child anymore, it will be just another human who is too scared of you to ask you to fulfill any of your parental duties.

What about when your child is sick? You know you have to care for your sick child. Except, you're an abuser, so to you this is a drain on your energy and you'd rather not have to deal with it, because a child to you is not a real person but an object that is in your way. So, you yell at your child that they got sick on purpose because they hate you, you tell them it because they did 'x' and 'y' (which they maybe did because you failed to watch out for them) and inform them that you will not be taking them to the hospital. Now your child will not expect any care while they're sick, and in fact, they'll be too scared to even come to you next time they're sick. Again, you got out of childcare and have all of your energy for yourself, at the expense of your child's health.

If you continually call your child a financial burden, ask them when they're going to pay rent, force them to work in order to deserve to eat and sleep at your house, complain about how 'money doesn't grow on trees', then your child will be too scared and ashamed to confess when their things are broken, clothes no longer fitting or torn, their shoes too small or breaking apart, their hygiene products at their end, or for anything they might like or want from the store. Now your child will try to make ends meet on their own, and you can financially save up and buy yourself what you like, and then buy the kid something when it's convenient for you, maybe for like a birthday present. Maybe at this point you are starting to see that if your child runs around looking very rugged, people are going to notice the visible lack of care, so you either make sure the kid does have some new-looking clothes, or, you tell the kid explicitly what they're allowed to wear outside, to not bring shame on you and the entire family, once again putting the responsibility on the child to look 'cared for', while you do almost absolutely nothing to make it a reality.

Now you're having a child who is, out of deep-seated fear of you, acting politely and socialized in company, giving you ever chance to pretend that you care for them daily, while you're effectively living as if you didn't have a child at all. But maybe that's not enough for you. Maybe, you also want to use that child to earn money as well; after all, they're scared of you and will do as you say. You can put them up to any kind of labour and call it 'chores', and tell them you're just 'teaching them work habits', while they're doing your part of household chores, heavy physical labour, maybe even your job, if they're good at it.

But maybe this is not the area where you need assistance, but you're looking for a free, non-judgmental therapist who will be on your side completely and never dare to call you out or confront you - and voila, this child is so desperate to make any sort of connection to you, they'll carefully listen to all of your woes and trauma, even when it's deeply inappropriate for them to hear it, and they'll of course, be on your side as you're the only person in the story they care about, so you can cry to them as much as you want and even encourage them to fix you, to run around looking for ways to cheer you up, make your life easier to you, influence other people to give you what you want. And if they ever dare to stand up to you or defy you, you can just snap at them and call them something that makes their blood freeze in shock and they'll back down and become even more obedient.

Neat, isn't it? Not only you don't need to parent this child anymore, but you can draw any kind of benefit out of them, groom them into any kind of behaviour, extract physical and emotional labour from them, take their anger out of them, control their life so it benefits you and not them, all while convincing them it's their duty to give it to you.

As a result, you will be untouched by the chore of parenting, and your child will grow into a terrified, deeply insecure, always wondering why they're not enough, never feeling good enough, neglected but not aware of it, hyper-independent, ashamed, desperate, unloved, depressed, traumatized, engulfed by grief and loneliness, never understanding why their own parent didn't want them, care-deprived adult. Because it's all that effort, all that responding to child's needs, all that attention and care and warmth and energy put into a child, that is necessary for them to have proof that they're a worthwhile human being, that they're not only alive to be filled with emptiness and serve others.

But that's also why the abusive parents will never stop what they're doing. The benefits they get by abuse far outweigh the cost (the cost being the well being of their child, to them cost is zero), so they will not suddenly become willing to do the job of parenting, after they've spent so much time successfully avoiding it, and only put the energy into gaslighting the child into believing this is normal.

This is also why they put so much effort into making the child dependent on them, and sabotaging the potential escape - they're benefiting from having that child around, they're actively extracting what ever they want from this young person that they barely have to cover the living cost for, who doesn't know or understand how many of their human rights are being violated. There's truly no easier way to isolate, trap, groom, brainwash and then control a person.

[yoonsenji]

When you're injured!//Genshin.

Character:

Beidou, Ningguang, Venti, Furina, Scaramouch, Xiao.

//Beidou•°★

• At first she was a bit worried since you don't seem to be in much pain and it was just some blood on your clothes, but after they removed your clothes and see the wound she was full on panicking.

• She decide to stop the ship at any near by place where there might be a doctor even tho the ship already have a doctor. She does not want to risk losing you.

• Would stay by your side and help the doctor with anything, if they're out of medicine she'll walk miles no run without stopping just so you could get better. If she have to fight any nasty monster she would without hesitation, she doesn't care about her well being... You matter more.

• Always by your side and if she isn't Kazuha is there to guard you... You are in a valuable situation and being take advantage of was easy... It's either she's there or kazuha is there to guard you.

Scribble<3

Your stomach was slash by the dragon as you lay on the cold wooden floor of the ship, you were wet cause you fall into the ocean and got save by your lover Beidou. As soon as you fall she jump behind you to save you, your temperature was raising up as you could feel the blood pouring out from the open wound. You could also feel the arm of your lover holding you closer near her as you felt wet tears onto your face. Taking deep breath as the sound of thunder and storm fill your ears as you close your eyes, it was getting hard to keep yourself conscious. The feeling of sleep was luring you and you were so close to, so close to sleeping. " It's ok... I'm here dear, rest assure... I have taken care of that beast, " your lover assuring you that everything was completely fine now. As you slip into the darkness

Next thing you knew you were in a bed... A bed that was never in the ship, that make you realise you weren't in water no longer but in land as your hand was hold firmly by someone. You look at the person as it was your lover sleeping as your hand was in hers, as kazuha was standing behind her with a smile as he look at you. " She couldn't sleep for day's and have been in that position for day's waiting for you, " the boy told you as you nod back as reply. Beidou didn't want to leave you at all which led to her not sleeping properly.

//Ningguang•°★

• doesn't matter how badly you're injured or not... You'll always get the best treatment, cover in fluffy blanket and her spoiling you

• You would be served the best soup for someone sick and if you crave anything just ask doesn't matter where it is from you'll reserve it. When Ningguang is done with work she would take care of you herself.

• Feeding you herself, cuddling and anything you wish is yours... But, remember she want you to be more careful in return.

Scribble<3

You accidentally fell of a cliff as you broke your ankle making you not being able to walk properly. At first the finest doctor came to your aid as other serve you fruit any fruit you wish to eat, your ankle was messaged by the best as you felt a lot better, a hot bath was prepared for you as well as a king size fluffy bed was prepared by you. Atlast you finally meet your lover Ningguang, she of course was extremely worried about your we'll being and ask you to be more careful, she than told you that you'll have to rest in bed for atleast a week or else she would make sure you do as she say.

Ningguang of course scold you but lightly not wanting to hurt you any further, at night she would just cuddle with you and in the morning she would bath with you. In the afternoon she would come visit you and you and her would have a little home date at night. After you get better she promised to take you to an expensive date to celebrate you getting better.

//Venti•°★

• The anemo God was of course very worried about your health as you got seriously hurt during a commission. You were lying inside the church as Barbara look after you.

• Of course he beg of the nun to let him in and see you even just seeing you would make the worry in his heart fade away a bit.

• He would sing any song you wish to listen, he would even bring you apple for you to eat so you'll feel way better. Hoing out to drink wasn't on his mind at all you were his first priority afterall.

Scribble<3

You were laying on the bed as barbara bandages you up with a soft smile, as you look around to not see the face of your lover. " Please let me see them! I won't cause any problems I swear " The voice of your lover echo in your ears as the door finally open. Just to see your lover with a worried look on his face.

" Ah, there you are " he say with a calm tone as he walk towards you with a smile. Sitting down next to you as he hold your hand firmly not letting go of you again. He can't help but blame himself for letting you go out by yourself, sometimes even the wind can't always blow the way it want.

//Furina•°★

• Extremely dramatic, fake cry although it might be real tears, won't get away from you and cling onto you like her life depends on it.

• Even neuvillette can't get the archon away from you, even pulling her away wouldn't do anything she was stuck to you like glue and she was secretly playing doctor with you since she was extremely bored and have to entertain herself somehow.

• She would still have tea party with you and as her three acquaintance might or may not attack some random object sometimes in which neuvillette have to get involved for them to stop since Furina doesn't want to get involved with the problem her little friends have cause.

Scribble<3

The hydro archon sir by your side as she rub the tears off her face as she take the tissue and used it to properly wipe the tears. The hydro dragon was standing beside her as he was extremely not having any of it, of course he was upset to see you in pain but Furina was turning the sad situation into something else. " oh my dear, I didn't thought those comission were that hard " Furina say as she low-key through the comission you do were just child play. " but, when you get better let's have a tea party ok? Just the two of us... And neuvillette! You better join for her sake " Furina was full on party mod. She was already planning everything in her head.

" It's time we go... It's getting late and lady (___) should get some rest as well " Neuvillette suggest as Furina sigh, " Well... I'm staying here " Furina say out as the taller male look at her pure confusion, " My dear must feel really lonely without me... So I'm sleeping here " she added " On that chair? " Neuvillette ask once again as she nod her head aggressively there was nothing that can stop her from being this close to you. The taller male sigh knowing well that the shorter girl would not budge at all and decide to leave instead of having to force the girl and drain more of his energy as well. " My dear... Let's have a sleep over ok? Gosh! Let's stay up the whole night! " Furina fell asleep first.

//Scaramouch•°★

• Insult you on how pathetic and weak you are but gently look after your wounds like you would break at any point. He of course Harshly scowled you on how careful you have to be since you're just a pathetic human that have a life spam of a rat.

• Do not expect much from him since he is only acting nice cause Nahida force him... That's why he say in deep down he actually care and is very worried you'll leave him just like how everyone did and is doing everything in his power to prevent you from death.

• If it was a person who hurt you... Be at rest since he will complete oblerate them in a blink of an eye. If it was for some stupid reason you'll get an endless amount of teasing from him.

Scribble<3

You lay on the bed as Nahida tend to your wounds afterall who would trust Scaramouch to look after anyone. Although he was only throwing raw insult at you, you knew that he didn't mean any of them... Except some. You got hurt during a fight and you got found by Scaramouch who was just wondering around. That's what he told you but in reality the short boy was just following you to make sure you were doing just fine, and much to his surprise you needed his help.

Scaramouch did indeed defeat the one you possibly couldn't without a problem. And carry you to Nahida asking for her help, Scaramouch was only worried when you were sleeping but now you're away he was teasing you and constantly making fun of you. Just expect this for atleast a week and it'll go away if you're lucky enough.

//Xiao•°★

• The poor yaksha was worried for you as he pick you up and hurriedly bring you to baizhu and stay by your side as much as he could.

• He could not stop by blame himself for you going through such pain, only if he was more cautious you and him would have been sitting together cherishing the moon light like normally. Just because he wasn't careful enough you got caugh in his problem and got hurt.

• if you do not wake up for a long time he would possibly go insane and go killing demon without stopping. Trying to forget what is going on and won't stop until you wake up... You'll have to tell him again and again that it wasn't his fault at all or else he would keep blaming himself.

Scribble<3

You wake up to the dimly light of the candle as you see the doctor himself Baizhu... He was sitting on his chair writing as soon as he noticed you being awake he approached you. " Feeling any pain? " he ask as you nod a No to him. Instead you were worried about the whereabouts of your lover more than anything else, the last thing you know was that... You being hit instead of your lover so he probably saved you and bring you here. " Where is Xiao? " you as calmly as you waited for the answer... " Ah... I shall call for him, please wait " Baizhu said as he walked out as you waited patiently for your lover to come inside. As soon as you see him you couldn't help but smile at him.

" Why would you... Get in the way? " Xiao ask you as you look at him unsure to. But, you knew well that he was probably blaming himself deep down as well. So you pull him in a hug as you hold him dearly. The yaksha was dumbfounded but felt comfort in your embrace and hug you back. " I was worried you died " You told him as he sigh at you " That should have been my line " the yaksha say as you couldn't help but smile at him. He doesn't express much but it's enough for you to know that he love you dearly.

[lamet00wn]

Sumeru characters taking care of you when you’re sick scenarios

Characters: Al’haitham, tighnari, cyno, Candace, Dehya

Tags: GN!Reader, fluff, Sfw, comfort, bathing together, cuddling, teeth rotting sweet, nesting

Al’Haitham

He’s seated at his desk in your shared room, you are laying on the bed. You were taking a nap that was a lot longer than your usual naps. Al’haitham noticed and used the time to work on some important documents. He was too focused on his work to notice you stir. The hot atmosphere and the blanket caused you to whine. You could feel the fever aching your entire body

Though he feels bad about it, he can admit your noises caused a noticeable annoyance. He groaned to himself when your tossing and turning didn’t stop. “Is something wrong?” He reluctantly spewed, eyes not leaving his paper. Only when he heard a pitiful little “help..” did he turn to you, rushing to your side after he noticed your distress. He sat down next to you. His hand went to your forehead. The frown he always wore grew worse and worry filled his face. He couldn’t help but pull you to him and cradle you. “I’m so sorry, darling. Are you okay?” He softened his voice to accommodate for his rough exterior, not just his physical exterior.

“Don’t.. feel good..” you shivered out, taking a lot of your energy to talk. He nodded and picked you up in his arms. He carried you to the couch, silently, and placed you down. He followed up by wrapping you in a blanket, getting a fan to put in front of you, giving you the TV remote. “I’m going to make you some soup” he gave the top of your head a kiss. He quietly went to the kitchen to focus on heating up your favorite type of soup. You scrolled through the different selection before choosing the show you guys have been watching together. He returned to your side after around 8 minutes, he wrapped his arm around you. he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek. You leaned away and pressed a hand to his chest. “I don’t.. wanna get you sick” he looked down to you before softly chuckling which made you melt. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me when I get sick” he compromised before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Tighnari

He could sense your sickness arising before you even felt the symptoms. You were sitting on the bed, playing on your switch when you started to feel extremely uncomfortable. You had ignored it for too long now and decided to lay down. Your head was spinning. Before you could even confirm you were sick, Tighnari was back from the store. He went straight to your guy’s bedroom and came in. You started to sit up. He firmly hand on your chest to keep you down. It was comforting though. “ ‘Nari-“ you were met with his smile and a hushed “shhh. It’s okay. Just relax. I’ve got everything you need. I got you snacks, some gatorade, medicine, and a new buddy” he handed you a cute little green fox plushie which you immediately hugged in your arms

Tighnari strongly suggested having comfort items like stuffed animals or blankets. They help with stress and mental struggles. He usually gets you an item, which is usually a stuffed animal, every time he goes out or can. He already had the remote in his hand, giving it to you. He started to put pillows and blankets all around you, creating some sort of nest. He tucked blankets and pillows under you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his touch, okay maybe he intentionally tickled you just to see you smile. He stayed focused though and acted as though he wasn’t even bothering you. After he was all done, he started opening food and your drink for you. After your medicine, you guys cuddled until you eventually succumbed to slumber, smiling of course.

Cyno

You were a whimpering mess (pause) from the discomfort of your sickness. Even though cyno doesn’t show it to anyone, and hardly shows it to you, he babies the shit out of you. It takes a lot to break down the walls around his heart but he’s really a big ol’ teddy bear, secretly of course. He came back into the room and held up your personalized water bottle he got for you. He glared at you, bottle in one hand and a bag of goodies to help you in the other.

“I didn’t spend 60 bucks to get you your own water bottle, for you to not drink any damn water” he set the bottle down next to you. He took out some food for you to eat so you could take your medicine. While you ate and watched some let’s plays he cleaned up all your gross tissues, silently. He didn’t make a face even when he touched a slimy part. Once you were all cleaned up he got a cold, damn rag to gently pat your face with to cool you down. “Stop being sick.” He tried to be comforting which you indeed felt comforted. He nuzzled into your neck after you had both settled down to take a nap. Once you had fallen asleep, cyno kissed your heated cheek and sighed. “I love you, snotty” he whispered. You smiled in your sleep

Candace

Candace held you close to her. The back of her hand was on your forehead. She shook her head in disappointment “didn’t I tell you to stay inside when it was storming. Now look at you, all pitiful” she teased with a pout pursing her lips. “This won’t do.” Was all she said before lifting you in her arms. She carried you across the hallway of your guy’s apartment and into the bathroom. She sat you on the toilet, you shivering. She couldn’t help but giggle at you. You looked so sad and hopeless. Good thing she was there to help.

She turned on the faucet to the tub, checking the warmth before adjusting the knob. “Is this okay, love?” She asked softly. You leaned over to feel the water. You nodded when it was the right temperature. She very carefully undressed you and kissed all around your body as she did to try and comfort you. She very carefully listed you once more once undressed and lowered you into the warm water. The warm water surrounded your cold body, earning a hum from your lips. She kissed your head before going to walk out. You reached and grabbed her wrist. She turned to you, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. “Stay..”you pleaded. Your sad, sick little face melted her heart. She quickly undressed. She tied her hair back before slipping in right behind you. She smiled brightly, wrapping her arms around your waist, just loving being with you.

Dehya

Dehya was actually on patrol when she got a message from you that you were sick. She got a fellow friend to cover for her. She basically ran home after getting medicine. She kicked down the door due to all the stuff in her hands. You were already on the couch, basically upside down from hanging off the couch. She dropped all the snacks that weren’t even good for you and the medicine. She pulled your hair back and kissed your forehead “awww. You poor thing. I brought you candy! And buttered chicken!” She smiled.

You smiled softly. “Did you get the soup?” You asked. She sighed and shook her head “they were out. But! I got some stuff to make it! Don’t you worry, babe. I’ll make it even better” she said, determined. She helped you get comfortable on the couch and got to cooking. She kept coming back to let you taste everything to make sure it was good. Every single time she gave you a kiss too. Once she was finished you both ate some soup and cuddled up while watching a scary movie. She says it’ll ‘scare the sickness away’. She let you cuddle into her no matter that it was getting sweaty. She loved to see you happy even in your worst times.

[slay00ryu]

KC cast when you're sick

Because I'm sick :(

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

Ronin:

You weren't online on the server for the whole day, so obviously Ronin got curious. Usually you would at least leave him a message like "Sorry work will keep me away for the whole day" , but this time there was only radio silence from your side.

It didn't take Ronin a long time to reach your home, you gave him a spare key if he needed to hide from the police or wanted to get to your house at random times (mostly night when you're asleep and he just wanted to annoy you) he entered your home and went straight to your bedroom.

There you were, asleep, sweat all over your body, sticking your clothes to you. Used tissues all around your bed and desk, a mug with long cold tea on the bed stand. Ronin approached your bed and moved his hand to your forehead.

"You're burning up darlin', no wonder you're asleep and offline." He murmured to himself and slowly made his way to your bathroom to her a cold wet cloth, once he made you one from a towel he placed it on your forehead. Seeing you so sick made him feel uneasy. Yeah Ronin liked it when you were in ruin, but not when it causes physical harm to you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at your sleeping form. He's playing with your hair between his fingers. When he saw your whole body shivering because of how cold you felt, he got under the covers next to you and held your body so close to himself, that he could feel your breath on his neck.

Headcanons yay!

Ronin will cuddle with you for the whole time you're asleep, he will change the wet cloth on your forehead from time to time so you will cool down quicker.

He will help you wash up, because you will feel somewhat better after a good shower/bath.

"Christ darlin', just how messy can you be when you're sick?" He asks you, while he's collecting every tissue from the floor and your furniture to throw them out.

Ronin will make you tea whenever you ask him to, or he will buy you some warm soup to help you get better.

He will come by your place daily at least until he's absolutely sure that you're no longer bedridden.

If anyone in the server will complain about your absence or ask about your whereabouts and you don't really want everyone to know that you're sick, he will tell them to fuck off and wait for you to come back online.

Ronin will buy you medicine if he notices that you're out of some or just don't have any.

V:

The two of you were taking a late night stroll. V had to take the dogs he rescued for a walk, and you just happened to tag along.

You were walking through a forest behind V's house, enjoying the wind and the chilly night.

Unfortunately on your way back, it suddenly started to rain and you ended up being soaked. V decided that you will spend the night in his place and go back home in the morning.

Well, after you woke up there was no way that you could even get up from his bed. Your immune system has always been really weak and susceptible to catching illnesses. So you weren't really that surprised when it turned out that you have a high fever and can barely talk with your throat sore.

"Here, please try to eat this, my love. You shouldn't take medicine on an empty stomach." You looked up at V, who helped you sit up and placed a plate with a sandwich on your lap. "If you can't eat by yourself then I suppose that I should feed you." The blush on his face reached his ears and you would chuckle if it wasn't for your sudden cough.

Headcanons >w<

V will spend a lot of time with you, he will read you a book or talk to you until you fall asleep.

He will tuck you into bed so perfectly that you will be covered from head to toe so your body will stay warm..

V will guide you to the bathroom and stay outside close to the door so if you call for him he will be there immediately to assist you.

V has a lot of medicine in his kitchen, so he will give you any medicine you may need.

Because V doesn't really have a job, he will stay with you for the whole day, unless someone needs to be served justice.

V's less dangerous animals will sometimes be let into the bedroom so you can enjoy their company.

Misaki:

After you arrived in Japan to visit Misaki it turned out that you were stuck with food poisoning after eating in one of the restaurants Misaki took you to.

At first they found it really funny, but then panic hit them. You didn't just have any stomach issues, you had a high fever. They basically threw you into their bed and told you to not move a muscle or they will tie you down.

Misaki was a really clumsy nurse they almost spilled hot soup on you, another time they lost the medicine they were given by their mom.

"Jeez, why is taking care of someone so hard?" They groaned and fell to the bed, squeezing themselves next to you.

Headcanons :3

Misaki's mom gave them instructions on how to take care of you, she gave them soups and medicine. They listened to her words and tried their best to follow her instructions.

They put you in their clothes after they almost spilled soup on you "Don't worry babe, next time you will dirty my clothes. There won't be a next time of course." They said confidently.

Misaki spoon fed you the food their mom gave them, even when you said that you are not dying and can feed yourself.

When Misaki had to go to work they assigned their mom as your new caretaker and she was happy to oblige. The woman was extremely kind and helpful, sometimes she spoke up her worries about Misaki's health and how happy she was that they have you now.

After you get better, Misaki will still panic about you getting sick again so they will test every food you are about to digest.

Misaki will brag to the server about what an amazing caretaker she is to you, even though most of the work was done by their mom.

Angel:

One day after you returned from work, you had to take a live interview with a popular singer for their channel, you turned out to be sick. Angel, of course, noticed just how sick you were and immediately rushed you into bed, she helped you change out of your clothes into some more comfortable ones.

She laid you down in bed and clung to you.

"Angel, you will get sick too." You mumbled and tried very hard not to give in to her touch.

"Shhh, you have to sleep, and my body will give you warmth." She chuckled sweetly and kissed you on the cheek.

Headcanons <3

Angel keeps you company at all times, unless she's working that is, although she spends less time on her channel with you being bedridden.

She will cook for you, her cooking is really good. You were pretty surprised when you saw actual food in her fridge and not human remains.

Angel is very clingy, holding your hands and hugging you while you sleep or just lay down in her bed.

Sometimes when Ronin comes by to pay his bestie a visit, she will tell him to keep quiet because you're asleep and he will have to listen unless he wants to be treated with a chainsaw.

When Angel actually gets sick, you will give her the "Didn't I tell you? " Stare and told her to call her model gigs off.

When you can't fall asleep but your body really needs to nap, Angel will sing a lullaby just for you to fall asleep.

Hope you liked it ^^ I'm totally not sick :d

[marshmallowprotection]

Mystictober Day 26

Mystictober 2024 | Day 26: AU/(Mint) Eye

These eyes are no longer golden, they are bathed in the poison of Rika's burning desire.

Saeran hated seeing his face in a mirror, and for the longest time, if he saw a reflective surface, his first instinct was to destroy it so he'd never have to see his face again. It was better that way, to not think a lot about the truth or what he thought he knew. He could only trust that Rika was doing the right thing by him, and even if she wasn't, it was hard to abandon the one person who didn't leave him behind in Hell. She didn't leave, even if she tortured him, and that was the sole reason why it was hard to believe anyone else.

But, believing her and not opening the door to anyone else caused him to lose everything he had.

His gold eyes were gone... forever.

His hair could no longer be red without making him feel sick. 

His hands ached from years of working himself into the ground for "Paradise."

His mind was warped beyond comprehension, caught up in a swirling sea of night terrors and nightmares that would never go away, and all he had to show for what he went through was the scars left all across his body.

It didn't make him a better person, it made him a person numb to the difficulties of life, and now he had a hard time finding joy in anything. Even the freedom he once enjoyed, staring at the clouds until many of his aches went away didn't fix what had been done to him. He only had the clouds to make him peaceful, and when they didn't help him feel better during a day like this?

All Saeran could do was lay there, listless and restless, unable to do a single thing but pray for sleep to take him with open arms. A nice and comfortable sleep was the one that came with darkness, nothing for his mind to speak of but the void, as it was a break from the screams that haunted him at night. Those nights were rare, even when he had better chances to feel at ease.

He just hated that this particular cycle started because he thought he was ready to see his reflection. His reflection caused all of this, and it was impossible to overcome this pain in the middle of the night when he felt sick to his stomach.

"I got rid of it," your voice came from the doorway of his room. You didn't dare get closer than that for his comfort. "Saeyoung and I took the mirror down. You... you don't have to worry about using the bathroom now."

Saeran didn't know what to tell you, but he didn't have the strength to say anything. All he could do was stare blankly ahead of himself, watching as the light created shadows from your body as the light from the hallway poured in. The same old song and dance, with enough pain to make him weep, except, he never knew the relief of a single teardrop to mend his pain.

He cried himself out of tears years ago.

"I'll leave you alone for now, okay? If you need me, you can text me... or press the emergency button Saeyoung installed by your bed. I'll be here in an instant. You don't—"

"Stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Please."

Wordlessly, you stepped into the open door and sat down in a chair by his bed, leaning over so you could prop yourself up on your arms. You wouldn't leave if he needed you, but you wouldn't stay if he needed alone time, either. If he called, you would always come to his side. It was where you wanted to be, and he knew that when you looked at him.

Even as broken as he was, you still loved him.

Golden or not.

[atimeofyourlife]

Writing this because I've been in a flare-up of migraines and I want to make someone else suffer for it Cw: migraines and mentions of vomiting throughout, nothing graphic but it's there This was supposed to be quite short and quick but it ended up being 6.8k of making Steve suffer.

Migraines had almost always been a part of Steve's life, right from when he was young. They were genetic, his mother also suffered from them, as did his grandmother, two aunts, and three cousins.

His earliest memories included the times when his mother would be struck with a migraine, hiding in a dark room waiting for the pain to pass, barely able to move between the bed and the ensuite bathroom. Steve knew he couldn't play loudly at those times, as it would make it so much worse, and that he was only allowed to knock on the door in a real emergency.

He got his first migraine at age seven. He woke up with a pain that made his head feel like it was splitting in two. He tried to open his eyes but the small amount of light seeping in around his curtains made the pain so much worse. He could only let out a weak, pained cry before throwing up all over himself and his bed. He stayed sat in his bed, sobbing quietly with his eyes screwed up tight, not wanting to move and make more of a mess. He wanted his momma to be there and hold him, but anything he could do to get her attention would only be met with even more pain. After some time, to him, it felt like forever, but in reality, was only a few minutes, his mother came to wake him up.

"Steve, time to wake up, it's time for school." She opened the door as she called for him.

Steve whimpered as more light flooded into the room, even with his eyes closed it hurt.

"What happened, baby?" She asked as she took in the scene in front of her.

"Hurts, momma." He cried, wanting her to take away the pain.

"What hurts, Stevie? Is it your head?"

Steve barely managed a nod, the slightest movement causing the pain in his head to intensify.

"Oh, baby, let's get you cleaned up." She lifted him out of bed, not caring that his sick was transferring onto her shirt. She made sure his face was tucked into her neck to block out any light, before carrying him to the bathroom. She set him down by the toilet, and stripped him of his soiled clothing.

"I'll be back in a moment, I'm just going to get you some fresh jammies." She didn't wait for his response before slipping from the room, leaving the light off. He whined as she left, but had to quickly turn to face the toilet as he started to throw up again.

His momma came back quickly, having removed her dirty shirt while she was out of the room. She put the bundle of clean clothes on the side before kneeling next to Steve, rubbing his back gently until he stopped heaving. Once he was done, she cleaned him up with a washcloth, not wanting to make him wait while she drew a bath or make him stand under the shower. The clothes she'd brought in were his softest pajamas, and she picked him back up once he was dressed, carrying him back out of the bathroom, still trying to block out the light.

He thought she was taking him back to his bedroom, but it was taking longer, going downstairs. He opened his eyes a little after he was laid on a soft bed, realizing he was in the same room his momma normally spent her time in when she had a bad migraine. He whined and reached for her as she moved away.

"I need to go clean up, sweetheart. I'll be back with some medicine once I'm done."

The medicine didn't help, only coming straight back up with the little water he'd drunk. His momma joined him in bed, holding him close until he fell asleep.

When he woke up again, he still felt bad, but the pain in his head had got a bit better.

-

Steve continued to get migraines throughout his childhood, five or six times a year. If it fell on a school day, he would be called out for at least one day, often two or three as he got over the lasting effects of the migraines. Always waking up with it. And every time leaving him struggling in a dark room, and throwing up repeatedly.

The first time he had one around someone outside of his family, he was ten and having a sleepover at Tommy's house. He woke up in his sleeping bag on the floor with the pain in his head. He bit back a whimper of pain, not wanting Tommy to think he was weak. He didn't want to move, but knew he had to get up if he wanted to avoid throwing up on the floor. He got up slowly, carefully, but each move made the pain increase and worsened the nausea. He held a hand over his mouth and the other shielding the light from his eyes. He had to walk fast to get to the bathroom, starting to gag and trying not to retch on the way. He made it just inside the bathroom, but not quite to the toilet before his body gave in and he was throwing up on the tiled floor.

"Ew, gross." Came Tommy's voice from behind him, and Steve instantly felt worse. It was bad enough at home when he didn't make it to the toilet, or at least over a trash can, when he had to throw up from a migraine, even with his momma and so many others in the family knowing what it was like. But to get sick on the floor at someone else's house? Especially when Tommy's mom didn't take kindly to any mess in the house. It was mortifying. He let out a choked sob, and hopped around the puddle of sick to get to the toilet to throw up again.

"I- uh. I'm gonna go get Mom." Tommy backed out of the room, leaving Steve alone. A few tears started to spill over as he wished he was at home, or just anywhere else, somewhere he could curl up in the dark until the pain was gone.

When Mrs Hagan came into the room, he could feel her anger even before she spoke. She berated him loudly, for the mess, over who would clean it up, for the disrespect when he wouldn't look at her, instead keeping his face buried in his arms in an attempt to block out the worst of the light. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Migraine." Was the only word Steve was able to force out, barely above a whisper. Even saying just the one word made the pain spike, and he curled further into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Mrs Hagan just scoffed, and left the room muttering about calling his parents. Steve just wanted his momma to pick him up and take him home. He didn't notice Tommy coming closer and sitting down next to him.

"What's a migraine?" Tommy asked, his voice softer than usual.

"Headache. Real bad headache." Steve murmured.

"So bad it makes you puke?"

Steve nodded once. "Light hurts."

"Oh." Tommy got up and moved across the room to turn the light off, and came back to sit with Steve.

They sat in silence until two sets of footsteps came along to the bathroom.

"You've been in here for so long and you haven't even tried to clean-" Mrs Hagan started, only to be cut off by Steve's mom.

"Stevie, is it a migraine?" She asked as she crossed the room, carefully avoiding the mess on the floor.

"Uh-huh. Momma, it hurts so bad."

"I know, baby. Let's get you home and in bed." She pulled a pair of dark sunglasses from her pocket, slipping them onto his face to block some of the light, before helping him to his feet. She couldn't lift him like she used to, but held him close so he could bury his face in her side.

"Who is going to clean up this mess, then?" Mrs Hagan demanded.

"You, maybe? It's something you could have done instead of shouting at a sick child for something he couldn't control. Just be thankful he made it to the tile, when he gets like this at home, half the time he doesn't even make it out of bed." Mrs Harrington's tone was quiet, not wanting to make Steve's migraine even worse, but firm and cold. She kept her arm wrapped tight around Steve's shoulders as she guided him from the bathroom.

"I've got your stuff. Feel better, Steve." Tommy came out of his room with Steve's bag.

Steve allowed his mom to take him through the house and out to the car. She buckled him into the backseat, with a bucket beside him in an attempt to protect the upholstery. All he wanted to do was get home, so he could curl up in a dark room and try to sleep it off.

-

Steve's parents started leaving him home alone on occasion when he was twelve. Starting with a day or two at a time, getting a bit longer as he got older.

Luckily, they were never both away when he got a migraine, until a little after he turned fifteen. He woke up one Friday morning, near the end of his freshman year, with the all too familiar pain in his head. The usual rush of nausea sent him lurching for his ensuite bathroom, barely making it in time to throw up.

"Momma?" He called weakly once he was done, only to be met with the silence in the house. It took a few moments for him to remember that he was home alone, his parents had left the day before and wouldn't be back until Sunday evening. He eased himself up and shuffled back into his bedroom so he could call his mom. He opened his eyes as little as possible to read the note with the hotel information on. He dialled the number, and gave the room details.

"Maria Harrington speaking?"

"Momma?" Steve couldn't help whimpering as the pain spiked.

"Oh, Stevie. Another migraine?" She asked.

"Yeah. It hurts so bad."

"Okay, go back to bed, and I'll call the school. Call me again tonight to let me know how you are." She directed.

"Yes, Momma. Love you."

"Love you too, feel better soon sweetheart."

Steve spent most of the day sleeping or running to the bathroom to throw up. He only managed to consume some cold water from the bathroom tap, not wanting to make the effort to get downstairs.

He woke in the early evening, feeling a little better, to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. He tried to drag himself out of bed, but the dizziness starting to take hold made it nearly impossible to move. After a few minutes, he heard the door open and shut, followed by footsteps on the stairs. "Steve, dude? You here?" He heard Tommy call.

"Bedroom." He replied, wincing a little. Tommy must have let himself in using the spare key for the movie night and sleepover they'd planned. At least they hadn't planned for a party.

"Oh, shit. One of your headaches?" Tommy asked as he came into Steve's room.

"Yeah." Steve pushed himself up into a vague sitting position.

"I guess I should go, then. You need anything?" Tommy offered.

"Can you grab me some water? And like toast or something?" Steve asked, settling back against his pillows. He hated cancelling and changing plans, but at least Tommy was understanding about it.

Tommy agreed and left the room, returning a few minutes later with the requested items. He handed the plate to Steve and put several bottles of water on the nightstand. "I would invite you over so you weren't alone, but-" he trailed off, but Steve knew what he was getting at. Ever since the time he'd thrown up on the bathroom floor at a sleepover, Mrs Hagan hadn't let him in the house.

"It's fine. If this doesn't make me puke, I'll just be sleeping it off."

-

After the fight with Jonathan, the migraines became more frequent, happening about once a month. He also got a little more light sensitivity on the days around a migraine, leading him to start carrying sunglasses with him at all times. Everything else was the same, waking up with the agonizing headache, throwing up multiple times, trying to sleep it off, then the lingering dizziness once the pain started to subside. But he had one other thing to contend with. Nancy.

The first one that really affected anything was in January. They hadn't gotten back together until mid-December, then Nancy had been busy with family over Christmas, so she never knew about the migraines Steve got in that time.

But come January, it was nearly impossible to avoid it, with the amount of time they were spending together. Steve was driving Nancy to school most days, and home if their schedules lined up. Date nights. Study dates. Biweekly dinners with Barb's parents.

It was a day when they were supposed to have one of those dinners after school, and Steve woke up with the blinding pain in his head. He rushed out of bed, stumbling as he got caught in his sheets. He knew he wouldn't get to the bathroom in time, so he lunged for the trash can by his desk. He curled around it as he emptied his stomach, throwing up violently.

"Steve?" His mom opened his door, obviously having heard the noise.

"Momma." Steve swallowed hard, trying to will away the nausea. "It's a migraine."

"I know, baby." She moved to sit with him, rubbing his back gently and holding his hair off his face as he started heaving again. "It's okay, Stevie. Get it all out, then you can go back to sleep."

Steve slumped against his mom once he was done, wanting the comfort she was offering and unable to find the energy to move back to bed.

"If you're finished, I can clean that out for you?" She offered after a few minutes, just getting a nod in reply. "Okay, then let's get you back in bed."

Steve whined a little as she helped him to his feet, and guided him back to bed. She tucked him in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Do you need anything?"

"Need to call Nance. Tell her I'm not coming." He mumbled.

"Do you want me to?" She offered.

Steve shook his head. "I can." He insisted, feeling around for the phone on his nightstand.

"Okay, baby. I'll check on you later." She left the room, taking the trash can with her.

Steve dialled the now-familiar number, hoping it would be Nancy answering, he didn't want to have to make small talk with her mom, or take her brother's attitude. It was Mrs Wheeler that answered, and he forced his way through the basic pleasantries and asking to speak to Nancy. He winced at the volume of the shout at the other end of the phone, before Nancy's voice came through.

"Nance, I can't make it today. I've got a migraine." He said, wanting the call to be done as soon as possible so he could try to get back to sleep.

"But we promised Barb's parents. We can't cancel just because you've got a headache." Nancy protested.

"It's not just a headache. I'm sick with it. It hurts so bad, I can barely get out of bed. I won't be in school, so can we please reschedule?" He was almost begging at the end, wanting to get off the phone and hating that Nancy wasn't believing him.

"Fine." Nancy huffed. "I've got to go."

Before he could respond, a dial tone came through. He hung up the phone and laid down, pulling the blankets right over his head in an attempt to block out the light filtering through his thin curtains.

Once he was well enough to be back at school, he explained his migraines to Nancy, the frequency, the symptoms. How they were different to normal headaches.

Right up until they broke up, if he cancelled because of a migraine, she always complained about him ditching her for just a headache.

-

After getting beaten by Billy, the migraines got worse. Way more frequent, two, three, four times a month. The pain was somehow more intense, the dizziness after was worse and lasted a lot longer. The light sensitivity was almost constant. And they would come on at random, not just when he woke up.

Multiple times he had to run out of class because a migraine started suddenly. Bursting into whatever bathroom was closest for him to throw up. More than once, he ended up in the girls' bathroom, but he couldn't bring himself to care as long as he wasn't puking on the floor.

People had different reactions, some girls freaking out when he ran into the bathroom. Some people assumed he had come into school hungover, others that he was on drugs. Sometimes people would offer help, but he was usually ignored. Tommy made a basic comment about the migraines being worse, but never tried to offer any help or comfort.

The worst one didn't hit at home, or even at school. He was driving home from the trip he'd taken to Indianapolis, and it hit as he came into Hawkins. He had to pull over quickly, opening his door just in time to throw up over the side of the road. He whined softly, knowing this was the worst place he could get a migraine. He was still in the wooded area before hitting the town, there were no houses this far out, so his only hope was if someone drove by and saw his car. As he retched and threw up again he wondered if he could get away with trying to sleep it off in the backseat, there was no way he could drive with the way he was feeling. A slam of a car door startled him, and he swore softly as it made the pain worse.

"Harrington?" He registered the gruff voice as belonging to Hopper, but he didn't respond. He heard the heavy footsteps coming closer. "Jesus Christ, kid. How much did you drink last night?"

"Not hungover," Steve mumbled, breathing slowly to try and ease the nausea. "Migraine."

"Shit. Are your parents home?"

Steve shook his head slowly. "Miami."

"Come on, I'll get you back to mine, so you can rest up." Hopper helped Steve out of the car, getting a few steps before Steve lurched forward onto his knees, throwing up a little into the grass. Hopper kept his hands on Steve's shoulders, steadying him so he wouldn't fall over.

"Sorry," Steve whispered, letting Hopper pull him back to his feet and guide him to Hopper's car.

"But-" Steve couldn't quite form the words, just gesturing vaguely in the direction of his car once he was in Hopper's passenger seat.

"Don't worry about it. We ain't far from the cabin, I'll come get it once you're settled." Hopper started the car, driving slowly.

Steve sat with his head back and eyes closed, hoping that he could hold off the nausea enough so he wouldn't throw up in someone else's car. It wasn't too much longer before the car pulled to a stop.

"Just a couple of minutes walk from here." Hopper got out of the car, and moved around to help Steve out. He kept an arm around Steve as he helped him to the cabin, not wanting him to fall over.

Once they were in the cabin, El perked up. "Is he hurt?" She asked cautiously.

"He's sick. Got a real bad headache, so we're going to have to be quiet, okay?" Hopper explained as he took Steve through the cabin. "Can you find the bucket from under the sink for me?"

Steve made a weak noise of protest as Hopper pushed him down onto a bed.

"You can sleep in here, it's my room. Sorry there's no door, but you can get some rest." Hopper explained, kneeling down to get Steve's shoes off when he didn't try to do it himself.

"No, I can sleep-" Steve started to protest, not wanting to put Hopper out of his bed.

"It's okay, kid. You need the bed more than me right now. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Just try to hit the bucket if you're going to puke again."

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it, instead pulling the covers over himself.

"I'll grab you some medicine, then I'll leave you to sleep."

Steve shook his head quickly, regretting it when it made the pain get worse for a moment. "Can't. Makes me sick."

When he woke up, it took him a few minutes to get his bearings and remember where he was. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but the intense dizziness had him dropping back against the pillows. He groaned and swore softly.

Hopper appeared in the doorway a couple of minutes later, he must have heard Steve's reaction to trying to move. "Hey, kid. How're you feeling now?"

"Dizzy. I can't move." Steve mumbled, wanting to bury his face in a pillow until the room stopped moving.

"Do you need anything?"

"Uh. Water please?"

Hopper nodded, leaving the room for a moment and coming back with a bottle of water. "Is this normal?"

"Happens sometimes. Got worse with the concussion." Steve explained.

"Your parent's know about it?"

"Yeah. 's genetic, Mom gets them too."

"Keep resting up, shout if you need anything." Hopper left the room and Steve shut his eyes again, hoping to sleep off the dizziness the way he had slept off the pain.

-

Steve assumed that getting a migraine at school would be the worst possible time, but once he was working ('a real job, Steven. None of this lifeguarding where you get to laze around a pool all day.'), it was on an entirely different level.

It was so much more migraine-inducing. The constant noise, music from within the store, in the mall, and seeping through from other stores. The horrifyingly repetitive tunes coming out of the kiddie rides dotted around the mall. The screams and squeals and cries and whines coming from the kids that were either overstimulated by the environment or throwing a tantrum when they didn't get their way. The attitude and entitlement from customers young and old over samples or not having enough choice or price or 'just how many calories are in this?'. Then there was the brightness, within Scoops the colors were all so oversaturated, the mall, in general, seemed to have so many lights at full power, showcasing all the options, as well as the neon lights advertising everywhere.

One of the worst things was the smells. So many conflicting smells mixing together with a nauseating result. The overpowering artificial lemon that always hung in the air from the cleaners they had to use. The sickly smell of the ice cream, the hot fudge, the caramel, the fountain drinks, and even the fruit made it worse. And sometimes there was the harsh smell when someone let their kid go too crazy on soda and ice cream and toppings resulting in puke on the floor.

Oh, and there was the snarky coworker he shared most of his shifts with that seemed to have a strong distaste for Steve.

It was over halfway through his shift when the migraine struck. It had been a rough day, a lot of customers coming through, kids constantly running around and screaming, and constant complaints that required the same few explanations. Steve could feel it coming on, but thought it would just be a normal headache, taking painkillers during his break to head it off. But they didn't work. There was only an hour or two left before the guys on the late shift were due to come in and take over when the pain struck. The initial burst of pain was so bad it caused him to double up behind the counter. He tried to breathe shallowly in an attempt to avoid the nausea but it hit hard and had him running for the break room.

"Where are you going, Dingus?" Robin shouted after him, but he couldn't respond.

He got most of the way across the room, but began to doubt whether he would make it to the bathroom. He grabbed one of the buckets from the cleaning supplies, and sunk to his knees as he started heaving into it. He did his best to stay as quiet as possible while he threw up, knowing that sound carried between the front and the breakroom and not wanting to put off other people.

"What the hell, you need to get back-" Robin burst into the break room, but cut off when she saw Steve on the floor throwing up. "Seriously, Dingus? It's barely two in the afternoon and you're already drunk? What were you doing, sneaking vodka in your lunch break?"

"Not drunk." He mumbled.

"Hungover, then?"

"Not hungover. Migr-" He cut himself off to throw up again.

Robin scoffed, but she had to go back out as the bell rang on the counter.

Steve couldn't tell how long. it had been, it could have been an hour, it could have just been five minutes. His vomiting had slowed, but the pain of the migraine persisted. He became aware of Robin speaking to someone, but couldn't quite place the rough voice.

"Harrington around?"

"He's in the breakroom throwing up. And he keeps denying being hungover."

"Mind if I go back there?"

Steve heard Robin agree, before the door swung open and heavy footsteps entered the room. Steve slowly opened his eyes just long enough to see Hopper.

"Shit, kid. What happened?"

"Migraine," Steve whispered, not wanting to make the pain worse.

"You didn't think to tell her that?"

"Couldn't." Steve gestured toward the bucket. "Tried to, but."

"Okay. You're gonna need to go home. D'you want me to drive you, or call your parents?" Hopper offered.

"You. Don't know if Mom's home yet." Steve mumbled.

"Uh-huh. I'll just let her know, then I'll take you home."

Steve let himself lose focus, not really paying attention to his surroundings. Once Hooper came back, he asked to leave using the back exit, not wanting to walk through the busy mall with the chief of police while clutching a bucket in case he threw up again.

Steve didn't really speak during the drive hom, keeping his head back and his eyes closed to try and fight off some of the pain. He opened his eyes as they pulled up outside his house, and noticed his mom's car parked on the drive.

"Why'd you come in?" Steve asked as he moved to get out of the car.

"I was going to ask for a favor for El, but it doesn't matter. It can wait 'til you're better."

"Okay, thanks chief." Steve stumbled up the drive, wincing at the brightness of the sun. He let himself in, knowing he was going to have his mom go overboard on caring for him, like she always did when he had a migraine.

When he returned to work on his next shift, he knew he had to face Robin. His mom dropped him off, as his car was still in the Starcourt parking lot. He beat Robin in, so started working on the opening tasks.

"Hey, Dingus, no hangover today, right?" Robin asked as she walked through to the breakroom to drop off her stuff.

"Wasn't a hangover." Steve protested. "It was a migraine."

"That's those really bad headaches, right?"

"Yeah, I get them sometimes. And if I had the choice, I would prefer a hangover. They hurt less." Steve leaned on the counter, waiting for Robin to double-check the till.

"Is that why you kept running out of class? I swear, if you were a girl everyone would have thought you were pregnant with the amount of times you kept throwing up."

"Getting my face beat in twice in like a year made them worse. I've had them since I was a kid, but after the concussions, it was on a different level. I started getting them at school more, and they always make me sick." Steve explained.

-

The only thought Steve could process before the final punch from the Russians knocked him out was that if he got out of it, this concussion was not going to help his migraines.

At first, he didn't really notice a difference. Between recovering from the concussion, whatever drugs the Russians had injected them with, and the other injuries he received from the beating, alongside the mental strain of everything that had happened, he just didn't have the energy to register any changes. But they did get worse.

They were hitting every week, at least once, sometimes more often. And the thing he found most worrying after he'd noticed it, was them fucking with his vision. Even at the best of times, his vision wasn't as good as it had been before the encounter with the Russians. But with a migraine? It was bad on a whole new level. Sometimes it even got so bad that he would go blind in one eye. Usually only for a few minutes at a time, a half hour at most, but there was that one time that his vision didn't return for the duration of the migraine.

He tried to keep it secret, hide the migraines as much as possible. Robin knew about them, but he didn't want her to know about the severity or the frequency of them. And if he could avoid it, he didn't want the kids to know about them at all. From the amount of times he had to cancel on them, they knew there was something wrong, but he wouldn't give them the details.

Robin picked up on how bad the migraines had gotten when one struck at work, midway through their shared Sunday late shift.

One minute they were laughing and joking together, having playful arguments over what the next movie should be, the next, Steve was hunching in on himself from the sudden onset of pain.

"Steve, are you okay?" Robin asked, worried about his sudden change in demeanour. "Is it a migraine?"

Steve nodded, and swallowed twice, trying to hold back the unavoidable nausea. He bolted out from behind the desk in the direction of the employee bathroom. He made it over the toilet with barely a second to spare before he was throwing up. He was only alone for a minute, then he was aware of Robin behind him, holding back his hair and rubbing his back.

"It's a bad one, huh?" Robin said after Steve had sat back, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

"Mmm-hmm. They're all bad." Steve replied, a slight slur to his words. He opened his eyes to look at Robin, the bathroom being dimly lit as neither of them had bothered to turn the light on. As he did, he noticed that his vision wasn't normal, he could see out of his right eye, but his left eye not so much.

"Your eyes look weird? Do they normally look weird when you have a migraine? They're kinda glassy and the left one isn't really focusing." Robin started to ramble but tried to hold back, knowing that too much talking made Steve's migraines worse.

"Can't see. Left eye." Steve mumbled, not wanting to have to try to explain.

"What do you mean you can't see? Should I call an ambulance, that's really concerning. What if it's like a brain tumor or something?" Robin started to panic a little, almost spiralling with concern for her best friend.

"Happens sometimes. Migraine thing. Goes away soon." Steve was only speaking in half sentences, not able to form his thoughts properly.

"How can you be so casual about not being able to see? Have you seen a doctor about it? How long has it been happening? Has it always happened with your migraines?" Robin's voice raised a little, causing Steve to wince at her tone.

"Russians fault. Doctor can't do anything." Steve explained. "You're too loud."

"Sorry," Robin whispered. "Are you done?"

"Think so. Help?"

Robin helped Steve up and guided him to the couch in the staff room, pushing his shoulder until he laid down. She left him with a small trash can on the floor near his head in case he threw up again, as well as a bottle of water in reach.

"Is your mom home?" Robin asked before she left the room.

"No."

"I'll call Dad to pick us up. They'll let you crash in the guest room until you feel better." Robin switched the light off as she went back out onto the shop floor.

Steve knew he would have a ton of questions from Robin once his migraine was gone, but for now, all he wanted was to sleep it off.

-

After Vecna, Steve was just grateful that everyone survived. Eddie had minor injuries from the bat bites, which would have been a whole lot worse if Steve hadn't insisted on him zipping his jacket closed, Max had two broken legs, a broken arm, and minor vision issues, but was expected to make a full recovery, just needing glasses in the long term. Steve had his bat bites, the road rash on his back and arms from being dragged along the ground in the Upside Down, infection in both those wounds from running around in a toxic environment without proper wound care, and slight damage to his windpipe from being strangled twice. He counted himself lucky that he hadn't received yet another concussion, no new head trauma meant that at least his migraines weren't getting worse.

But it didn't mean that they had gotten any easier. It was getting harder and harder for him to hide his migraines, or at least the severity of them, from the others, as the group had drawn in closer than ever, spending time together multiple times a week. Eddie figured it out early on, after Steve cancelled on another hangout.

He drove over to Steve's, letting himself in with the spare key when his knocking wasn't answered for nearly ten minutes despite Steve's car being parked in the drive.

"Steve?" He called, hearing a pained whimper from upstairs in response.

Steve didn't want anyone to see him deep in the throes of a migraine, at least not anyone that hadn't already experienced him with a migraine. But he wasn't in a position to turn anyone away, barely able to move, unable to get his mind and voice to cooperate enough to string more than two words together, his vision blurred in both eyes. He didn't even react when Eddie came into his room.

"Oh, Stevie," Eddie whispered.

Eddie easily fell into caring for Steve, cleaning out the bucket by the bed, replacing empty water bottles with fresh ones. Once he'd done the basic chores, he joined Steve on the bed, alternating between rubbing his back and gently tracing his fingers through his hair until Steve fell asleep.

Once Steve woke up, the pain of the migraine had mostly lifted, leaving behind the dizziness. He was coherent enough to be able to hold more of a conversation.

"Eds?" He mumbled, his throat a little dry.

"Hey, Stevie. How're you feeling now?" Eddie asked, keeping his voice quiet.

"Better. Dizzy, though." Steve burrowed into Eddie's side a little.

"Was it a migraine?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"My mom used to get them. I don't think they were as bad as that one looked for you. But I just did what used to help her."

"It felt nice." Steve hummed.

"Good. Do you, like, get them a lot?" Eddie asked hesitantly.

Steve froze for a moment, before dropping into the explanation of them being genetic, and getting worse with each round of concussions. How different people had reacted, how his mother looked after him, often going too far, how Tommy had tried once upon a time, how Nancy never believed him, how Hopper started to help, and Robin coming in and doing her best, alongside her parents when his weren't home.

Eddie vowed that he would be there to support Steve through as many migraines as he could.

-

It wasn't long after Eddie witnessed Steve's migraines for the first time when they got together. There'd been something building between them for some time, but the care Eddie showed during the migraine was the final push for Steve. It had been a sticking point for him in dating for so long, since Nancy, not wanting someone who refused to believe him when he had to cancel due to a migraine.

And it wasn't too long after that when everyone else found out about Steve's migraines. He was due to be hosting a movie night, as he had the biggest house, and his parents were travelling out of Hawkins more than ever, but had to cancel just a few minutes before everyone was going to arrive as a result of a sudden onset of a migraine.

Robin and Eddie had been there early to help him set up, and witnessed the quick onset of it. He didn't make it to any of the downstairs bathrooms, throwing up repeatedly on the floor before he was able to. He shut himself in his mom's room, not wanting to try and get upstairs, leaving Eddie and Robin to deal with everything else. Eddie set to cleaning up the mess on the floor, Robin taking the duty of turning everyone away. She'd tried to call the others as soon as she noticed the migraine hitting Steve, but all of them had already left. She waited by the door, not wanting anyone to barge in and start being loud enough to disturb Steve. She gave the excuse of Steve suddenly getting sick without enough time for them to call, not giving the details as she knew Steve wouldn't want her to. There were a number of complaints, but she was able to get everyone to leave without too much of a fuss.

But he had to explain it at the next gathering. The kids basically confronted him about his constant cancelling, getting backed up by Nancy.

"I'm surprised he hasn't tried blaming a headache. He used to pull that all the time when we were dating." Nancy said.

"Jesus christ, Nancy. How many times did I have to explain it to you that they weren't just headaches? I get migraines." Steve snapped, then suddenly realizing that he'd said it in front of everyone.

"Yeah. That's the same excuse you always used. Cancelling on me because you had a headache, using a fancy word for it doesn't change what they are."

"Migraines are totally different to just a headache. Let me guess, you've never seen him while he was experiencing one?" Eddie asked.

"No, but they can't be that much of a big deal." Nancy scoffed.

"I puke. A lot. And it's the worst pain imaginable. Way more painful than getting chewed on by those demobats. I would take a thousand hangovers over one migraine. I can't eat or drink or take anything for the pain because it just comes back up. Opening my eyes gets nearly impossible if there is any amount of light, and speaking becomes physically painful. I can't do anything when I have one other than try to sleep it off. And once the pain is gone, I get so dizzy I can't move." Steve explained.

"You're over-exaggerating it," Nancy replied, rolling her eyes. "You don't need to be so dramatic."

"He's really not? I've seen a couple and they're bad." Hopper pointed out.

"If anything, he's underselling how bad they get. Just accept that you were wrong, and move on." Robin added, glaring daggers at Nancy.

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Nancy huffed.

"You could have just listened to me. I explained this repeatedly when we were together, and you never believed me. You could have come over after school to see how I was, or even called to check on me. When we were friends, Tommy would drop by if I ever missed school, especially if my parents weren't home, to make sure I was okay or if I needed anything. But all I got from you was you being bitchy and cold to me over it when I next saw you. As if it was my fault."

Nancy didn't respond, instead turning and leaving the room.

"So, these migraines." Dustin was the first to break the silence. "How can we help?"

In this, I believe that Steve's mom isn't great and is kinda distant most of the time, but she almost goes overboard with affection and care when Steve has a migraine because she blames herself for his suffering, as it was passed down through her family. Also, my characterisation of Nancy comes from how dismissive she was of Steve in s2, over his concerns about what could happen if Barb's parents found out the truth, and with the fight in the alley where she wouldn't take responsibility for what she said the night before. Also, the attitude she got over Steve wanting to cancel on dinner with Barb's parents. And her 'my way or the highway' attitude that comes across multiple times in the show. This was supposed to be a quick and easy fic to get out while I worked on my other fics, but I had a migraine flare-up that lasted nearly a week. And now we have hot weather in the UK which seems to be easing the symptoms of my other chronic illnesses, so writing is taking a little bit of a backseat while I take advantage of feeling the best I've felt in like a year and getting all the shit done that I've not had the energy to do for so long.

[seineko]

it's a sick fic but, minors still do not interact!

warning(s): again, its very self indulgent, and i really hope diluc isn't too ooc. also i wrote this while being very sick so, beware. slight angst, like if you squint very hard. like really hard.

i really suck at taking care of myself and, well, i got sick because of it. i want to be pampered so, i'm going to get diluc to pamper me :)

and yes, i really can't help but end most of my drabbles with a confession cause i am a very stupid hopeless romantic.

the number of times you got sick because you ignored your cold or sore throat (or both) was more than you could count on one hand. which doesn't seem a lot, but it's still stupid that it happened so many times.

and it happened again.

your sore throat persisted the entire evening you decided to do absolutely nothing about it.

so here you were, trying to reach for the water jug, but failing to do so with how heavy your entire body felt.

eyes hurting more with even the slightest of light let in, throat burning with every gulp you couldn't help but swallow down and head throbbing with the slightest sound that you heard.

'love?' you let out an involuntary wince as the voice - your boyfriend's voice - combined with the sound of the window latching into place, came in heavy, almost hammering your head.

'hey, here,' this time the voice was much more softer, almost a whisper, but you couldn't help the twitch of your eyes at the still persistent ache, 'drink up.'

you tried to gulp down a large sip to try and sooth the burning your throat felt but the glass was immediately pulled back, worried voice letting out an even softer, 'smaller sips.'

as you sipped the water much slowly this time, diluc's hand rested on your forehead, trying to get a check on your temperature. which was probably bad if the deep sigh was anything to go by, 'you're burning up.'

after your throat felt a bit better (temporarily), you pulled back to sit up straight, but diluc held your arms, pushing you back in place, 'no, you need to rest.'

your protest died down in your throat when you heard the worry in his tone. 'did you eat something?'

he didn't even let you answer that before asking, 'did you take medicine?'

at that you pulled your blanket up slightly, trying to hide under it.

diluc clicked his tongue.

with a resigned voice, he continued, a bit firmly now, 'do not move, i'll get you the tablets, and a water bath.'

it took longer than you anticipated it to, which was likely due to him changing his clothes, looking much more fresh with his hair open and a grey t-shirt and black tracks replacing his usual outfit.

'i apologize for the delay,' ever the gentleman, he set down the ice bath on the table beside your bed, putting the water jug down after pouring down another glass of water and holding it forward along with a few tablets on his other palm. you took them without much complaint as he fed them to you one by one, making you drink a few sips of water between each.

'i thought it would be better not to let any more germs near you,' eyes skimming down his clothes, he dipped the cloth in the eyes bath, twisting it to remove the excess before placing it on your forehead.

'ahh!' you let out something between a wince and a whine as the cold cloth touched your skin, hair rising all across your body.

'consequences,' was all he said, tone holding no remorse even as you suffered throughout the process! what a cruel boyfriend!

'if cruel means you get well soon, yes,' he clicked his tongue as he removed the cloth to dip it into the water again. uh ho, you seemed to have said it aloud, 'someone has to take care of you since you are clearly incapable of doing so.'

you wanted to retort, he was the last person you wanted to hear that from, but what he said next had every word stuck in your throat.

in a very small voice which held the slightest of hesitation and just a bit more pain, 'all i have left is you.'

'd-diluc,' you choked with both the pain you felt and the clear distress at his tone.

'shh, go back to sleep,' diluc sighed, removing the cloth from your forehead for the final time and hanging it on the side of the bowl he bought the ice water it. pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he rubbed his thumb on your cheek, 'i'll go clear this up.'

you held back his hand on your cheek, refusing to let him leave. given how weak you were, he could've very easily removed the hold, but he held still. ears still ringing in your head, you shook your head, 'n-no, i can't sleep.'

'what can i do then?'

despite his protests, you got up completely to pat down on the corner of the bed, 'sit here.'

his usual deadpan expression was accompanied by the raise of his eyebrow. he still did as you told him to.

as soon as he sat down comfortably, you rested laid back down and rolled towards him to rest your head on his lap and let down a contended sound.

a slight smile spread across his lips at that. his fingers reaching up to caresses your scalp ever so slightly. diluc was sure that you would've completely turned boneless under his touch, purring every other second had you been a cat.

your eyelids already felt heavy as you looked up at him, pleading already visible through your orbs, 's-sing for me?'

not the one to sing usually, your boyfriend let out yet another sigh for the night before he started humming a familiar tune, a lullaby adelinde used to sing for him and kaeya when they were kids.

'diluc?' the sleep was taking over you, mind now muddled.

at his questioning hum, still in-between the humming, you just smiled into his lap, 'i love you.'

you drifted off before he could finish humming and reply with an, 'i love you too.'

©2024 by seineko @ tumblr

[scotianostra]

On 21st July 1796 Robert Burns died in Dumfries, he was just 37.

Rather than go over Rabbie's life, this post mainly covers the last few weeks of his life, and him dealing with his iminent demise………

It is apparent from Burns’s correspondence, his poetry, and even from his First Commonplace Book that the bard was plagued by ill health on several occasions throughout his short life. ‘A Prayer in the Prospect of Death’, first published in the ‘Kilmarnock’ edition of Burns’s Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect is believed to have been written in 1784 when the bard was just twenty-five years of age and suffering a bout of ill health: O Thou unknown, Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear! In whose dread presence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear!

Burns gives this poem the longer, more explanatory title, ‘A Prayer, when fainting fits, & other alarming symptoms of a Pleurisy or some other dangerous disorder, which indeed still threaten me, first put Nature on the alarm.’

Indeed, we might consider that the threat of illness never truly left the bard: there are several references throughout the poets’ correspondence to rheumatic episodes, hypochondria, physical injury, toothache and periods of ‘melancholy’. However, the first signs of the illness which would eventually claim Burns’s life began in the winter of 1795 when the poet was confined to his sick-bed for several weeks. His health declined over the course of the months that followed, and from the bard’s correspondence in the summer months of 1796 it would appear that he sensed the finality of this particular episode of ill health. In a letter to George Thomson on the 4th of July hewrote: ‘ I received your songs, but my health being so precarious nay dangerously situated, that as a last effort I am here at sea-bathing quarters. – Besides my inveterate rheumatism, my appetite is quite gone; & I am so emaciated as to be scarce able to support myself on my own legs.’ If you remember my last post about Burns at the beginning of the month where he sought the healing powers of the Brow Well and bathing in the Solway Firth near Ruthwell. Burns was soon aware that the sea-bathing was ineffective, writing to his father-in-law James Armour on the 10th of July that;

‘I have now been a week at salt water, & though I think I have got some good by it, yet I have some secret fears that this business will be dangerous if not fatal.’

Tragically, Burns’s final letters became increasingly desperate, and the poet expressed deep concern for the welfare of his family, it became clear the bard was preparing for the worst when he wrote to his brother Gilber:

God help my wife & children, if I am taken from their head! – They will be poor indeed. – I have contracted one or two serious debts, partly from my illness these many months, & partly from too much thoughtlessness as to expense when I came to town that will cut in too much on the little I leave them in your hands.’

Burns was right to be concerned. Indeed, he died in significant financial difficulty, overshadowed with the threat of debtors’ jail. Burns himself acknowledges this in a letter to his cousin, James Burness, on the 12th of July in which he states: ‘When you offered me money assistance, little did I think I should want it so soon. A rascal of a haberdasher, to whom I owe a considerable bill, taking it into his head that I am dying, has commenced a process against me, and will infallibly put my emaciated body into jail.’

Before this threat could be realised, Burns died surrounded by his family and close friends on this day in 1796.

While biographers and critics have offered several theories surrounding the cause of Burns’s death (many of which are fanciful and without evidence, some even hinting at conspiracy), scholars and medics who have examined the poet’s own account of his illness, together with those of his contemporaries, agree that the poet most likely died from bacterial endocarditis: a serious complication of his recurring rheumatic illness. Of course I dn’t think his like of alcohol helped though.

Robert Burns’s funeral took place at midday on the 25th of July 1796, I will cover it in more detail in a few days……

[f1nalboys]

Bedside Vigil - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

a silly little dark bo fic w sorta same premise as my lester fic. icky yucky evil manipulative bo my beloved!!! also sorta eh on this so lmk if you guys liked this!

WORD COUNT: 1324

WARNINGS: whump, character death, murder, snuff photo mention, full on stockholm syndrome. reader no longer remembers life without bo or ambrose, reader 'loves' bo, throat slitting, brief mentions of being strapped to the chair in the basement in the past, mention of reader and bo having sex but dub-con since the predicament they're in just in case, violence, manipulative and sadistic bo, proofread but probably missed something so sorryyyy <3 enjoy this sick freak

You loved Bo’s bedroom the more time you got to spend in it. It wasn’t comfortable, not like the one you had back home, the one you can’t really remember anymore, but it was worlds away from the suffocating room in the basement of the garage that had been your home for the last month. Maybe it was longer, you still weren’t sure. You had asked Bo once, just once, on how long it had been since you had been in the town with him and he had shaken his head. “Don’t really want to know that, now do you, darlin’?” 

You didn’t.

The town, every structure, every car, every blade of overgrown grass and every overturned pebble, all of it was stuck in the past. It showed signs of life from two decades ago as if the rapture had happened and the entire town had been taken, sent up to heaven with the fanfare cracking the foundation of what was left. Except for Bo. 

Bo was here and now. He was all around you, had been from the second you had stepped foot into the ghost town and maybe even before then, and you couldn’t think of anything you’d want more. You had earned his affection, earned the right to be in his bed the way you had been this last week. You had softened the hand of the beast who had trapped you and now you weren’t trapped anymore and you were in love with the Beast and he was in love with you and you couldn't remember why you had felt trapped in the first place.

“The nails gonna fall out soon.” You say and you hear Bo grunt in acknowledgement from the bathroom across the hall. Glancing away from the candlestick you look over towards the bedroom door which was cracked open. When Bo wasn’t beside you, you felt like you were suffocating. He had saved you in a way. Though in the beginning you had felt trapped, had spit and screamed and cried each time he so much as stepped foot near you, now you understood that he had done what he had to to save you, to mold you into the person you were meant to be. His.

When he brought you into the bedroom last week after feeding you, kissing you, bathing you, he had shown you the candles. “The nails are ta’ keep track of the time,” He had said when he had settled you into the bed with him, the two of you laying on your side, his hips flexing absentmindedly against you as he whispered into your ear. “The last nail falls out and it means you,” He kisses your temple and you sigh, pushing your hips back into his. “Are dead.”

You had laughed, just a little giggle at the thought of a nail falling signifying your end, and the loose grip he had on your hip had gotten tighter and suddenly you feel like you’re strapped to that chair again and you’re feeling scared, so fucking scared, and all you can do is squeak out a weak “I don’t want that.” It worked. His grip loosened once more and he’s kissing your temple and nuzzling into your neck. 

“Course you don’t. Cause you wanna be good for me, right?” You nod and that night you are good for him, an active participant now that you weren’t bound. Bo relished in the attention you gave him from that night on, always on his heel, asking what he needed or wanted from you. If he had told you to take that shotgun off the wall or the knife out of his belt and use it on yourself, you would’ve with a smile on his face and asked if you had done okay.

He walks into the bedroom finally, boxers and a white t-shirt on, and you repeat yourself. “The nails gonna fall out soon.” 

“I know, darlin’. Scared imma let it?” He teases and you shake your head no quickly. You knew he wouldn’t. It felt like you knew Bo better than yourself these days. He had asked you a few days ago what you used to do back then, before Ambrose, and it had taken you a little bit to remember what life was like. As far as you were concerned, there was no point in time before Ambrose. Before Bo.

He crawls into bed on top of you and you grin, sinking down a bit so he was looking down at you with a grin. Neither of you say anything for a moment. You stare into his blue eyes, wondering how they had ever sent anything other than a shiver of love down your spine. Clink. Your head turns and the nail is sideways on the dish below it, flame still going. 

He sighs. “Shit,” He mutters, getting off of you and standing, blowing the candle out. The room is dark and you wait for him to get back into bed with you but he doesn’t. His shadow is darker, a figure against the wall, the kinds you used to see down in the basement with you. A ghost. “Sorry, baby.” He turns the lamp on and you blink, trying to register the scene in front of you. He stood with a knife in his hand, staring down at you like a wounded animal in a trap. Staring down at you with pity.

“Bo?” You ask and your voice doesn’t sound like your own. “What’re you doing?”

“Nail fell out. You know what that means.”

“But you don’t have to.” 

He shakes his head, getting back into bed with you, the air between the two of you thick. You were scared. He can feel you shaking underneath him but you won’t look away, won’t even spare a glance at the knife held in his hand. “Are you scared, sweetheart?” He whispers and you hesitate, choosing to shake your head no despite it being a lie. “No? Not scared I’ll do it?”

“I trust you.”

“That’s stupid.” The knife is pressed against your throat and he’s staring down at you with the same look he had given you in the beginning, one of disgust, and yet you don’t move. When you swallow, the blade digs into your skin just a little. “I could do it right now. Slit your throat, let your blood soak into my mattress, watch the life drain out of your eyes. Might even take a photo of it.”

“You could.”

“Most people would be beggin’ for me not to hurt them, you know that?”

“I trust you.” You reiterate and Bo scoffs, sitting up, still straddling you. The knife is moved away from your throat and you suck in a breath. You did trust him. You loved him and he loved you. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that. He could threaten you, he could hit you, he could cut you, but he’d never hurt you, never get rid of you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you had crawled your way under his skin and latched onto his very being. You wouldn’t leave, even if he did kill you.

Bo stares down at you with a curious look, lips curving into a sadistic grin. “Too bad. I like the beggin’.” 

And then the knife is sliding across your throat and Bo’s smile is the last thing you see as you gurgle, blood pouring from your neck, soaking into the bedsheets, a visceral splatter across him and the wall. 

He makes sure to take a photo of you like this, blood surrounding you like a broken halo, and he places the photo on his side table, pressed against the still smoldering candle stick. There it would sit until he found someone new and then it would be placed into his drawer alongside the dozens of others. You were right; you wouldn’t leave, even if he killed you.

[emhasthoughts]

Gertrude and the cat-avatars, pt7

Summary: We meet the final three

A/N: I'm not planning for this to be the final part. I have another planned and if I ever come across a video or someone in chat talks about something their cats have done that I could get inspiration from, I'll probably write it. Hopefully those would be a bit more fun than the intros.

As normal, not beta read, just me, my document and low social battery.

Also big thanks to @dcartcorner for letting me write this all

Pt 1, Simon, Peter, Elias and Mike / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, John, Jane, Maxwell, Manuela / Pt 5, Jon, Martin, Sasha, Tim / Pt 6, Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Georgie / Pt 7, You're here! / Bonus, a visit to the vet / Halloween bonus!

Gertrude had basically no say in most of the cats that entered her home. But one of them had entered out of nowhere and refused to leave. It looked nearly… plastic. It wasn’t, Gertrude was sure of that. But she still had a plastic cat toy look. Gertrude did not like it. She still named the cat Nikola, including hope that Nikola would walk away as oddly as it had appeared. It never did.

Another one of the cats looked wrong in a way. Gertrude had originally shrugged the dirty cat to the side. Surely someone else would find the cat, take it to the vet and let it into a forever home. However it seemed like wishful thinking. 

The cat seemed healthy and sick at the same time. It looked like the cat got enough food to not starve, though the dirt made it seem like it didn’t have a home. It didn’t walk properly either. Constantly standing a bit oddly. As Gertrude got a closer look at the cat it looked as if one leg was shorter while one was longer than the other two. Gertrude knew enough about adoptions surrounding animals to know the chances of him being taken into a proper home was low. With a sigh Gertrude made an appointment at the vet.

After finding out that the legs most likely wouldn’t cause any problem and that he was otherwise healthy, he was taken to get a proper bath. Which went a bit better than Gertrude had originally thought. He had ended up with the name Jared, suggested by the veterinarian. 

The name did somehow crash with another cat that was taken in a bit later. It was a lanky black cat, though there were spots of orange. He had eyes oddly similar to Jon and Elias, as if he could see through Gertrude’s soul. 

A day after taking in the cat, Eric had been assigned to get the cats dinner as Gertrude was away on a short trip. When she came back Eric had gotten a bit attached. 

“His name is probably Gerard.” Gertrude told him.

“No.” Eric had answered. “No, I think he’s a Gerry.”

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOCHESSSS!!!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

Just like you had asked, here it is!

“what if Fragile! Reader decided to leave Dottore?” I KNOW THIS SOUNDS HORRIBLE (and may be ooc for fragile! Reader) BUT HEAR ME OUT!

What if at some point of Fragile! Reader’s life, they got so sick of the life they were leading that they just wanted to run away? To let Dottore find someone new and no longer have the burden of having to take care of them. And the clones no longer having to worry if whether their meal is “too hot” or if the bath water is “too cold”. They wish they didn’t have to be treated like a baby, but what more can you do when you’re trapped inside your own body? The only reasonable option you could think of was running away, although you’re not sure where you would even live or even work at to earn money. You dropped out of the Akademiya long ago when Dottore was exiled to the desert, and you were too weak to do any hard labor anyways. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to stay when all you were doing was causing harm to others around you. ‘You are a burden’ you keep telling yourself every night. Crying into your pillow to stifle your cries. You couldn’t bring to like yourself, you hated yourself for being such a useless excuse of a lover and companion. At times you could hardly understand or think whenever the clones were ranting about their experiments, and you can only look at them with a soft smile. Or when Dottore continues to pester you on whether the medication is working, or if you’re feeling better. Your mind was always fuzzy, and you hated it. You wanted to be free from this curse, and no longer confined to your cold bed, or the multiple wires that you adorn every night that are there to track your vitals and ensure you don’t suddenly collapse in your sleep…

But eventually, you become bold enough and leave at night. Somehow not alarming any of the clones or Fatui Guards. (which you were slightly relieved at) You end up taking a small bag with you with a few weeks worth of medicine and a few clothes. But, that morning when a clone comes to your room to wake you up, he soon realizes you weren’t there once checking the closet and bathroom. And soon, panic struck. Quickly sprinting out of your bedroom and to the main laboratory to inform all the other clones, as well as rushing to Dottore’s lab to tell him as well. The only thing you had left behind to indicate where you had left to was a small note. Although your writing wasn’t the best as your hands were always shaky whenever you tried lifting up anything, even something as small as a pen. Which in the note, you kept apologizing for being “useless” and that you hoped that Dottore and the clones would live a better life without you… But the clones and Dottore could care less. You were so important to all of them, and the light of their lives. Sure maybe it always did pain them to see you barely be able to get out of bed or having to struggle to pour even milk or juice. Yet it didn’t mean they didn’t love you any less, no matter what state of condition you were in. And it doesn’t take long for many clones to leave the palace in search of you. Dottore knew well your body could collapse on itself at any given point due to how harsh the cold is outside. (And how bad your condition has been as of late despite you trying to hide it all with a faux smile) Making everyone all the more determined in finding you in time before it’s too late.

And they do find you collapsed on top of snow a few hours after your departure. They’re relieved to find you still breathing, although your pulse is barely there. They quickly bring you back to the palace and to Dottore’s laboratory. Getting you hooked up to many machines in the matter of a few minutes. Although Dottore didn’t show it, deep down he was so worried for you, that during your search he wanted to go look himself. But, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back if he saw your pale form laid out on the snow. And the only thing he can do now is try and stabilize your unsteady condition. He doesn’t want to- no, he won’t lose you. Even if it means putting you back into a coma just so you’ll get better. He could care less, he waited for so many years just for you to wake up from the first one, who’s to say he can’t wait another few? Although, he knows how lonely those years were when he couldn’t tease you, or scold you like always. And instead only be able to look at your unconscious body continuing to be in its dream like state, letting out soft murmurs of his name sometimes even smiling. He sometimes wished you would smile more whenever you were awake, but of course he’d never admit that to you.

Or, alternative ending (less angsty?) : You do end up waking up shortly after being brought back, and well…let’s just say you’re heavily scolded that day and are put under heavy supervision. Although you are treated like royalty, and find that the clones keep following you like small kittens trying to attach themselves to your legs. And you do end up having to talk with Zandik on how you had been feeling the past few weeks, explaining how your mental health had been deteriorating and you continued to blame yourself for everything. And once comforting you, (which Zandik wasn’t the best at, but you were just happy he at least held you close and listened, even if his “comforting” was really just scolding you and shooting down your harmful thinking.) you were thankful for everything he had done, even if you had acted rashly and put yourself in danger. You knew it was stupid, but you no longer wanted to burden the people whom you loved and held so dearly. But after this situation, you knew you couldn’t let them go. Not when they all worked so hard to bring you back and saved you from frostbite. You definitely had to come up with a big apology, whether it’s in the form of cuddling each clone, or baking them cookies…

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Waaa!! I’m finishing this up close to 2 AM, but being able to see you adding onto it and critiquing it makes it all the more exciting and always motivates me to finish my brainrots! I know this is super long and I feel so embarrassed that my writings are always the longest ones on your page in comparison to other anons. (I cant help it Im sorry !!) ( ˃̣̣̥o˂̣̣̥ ) but i hope you enjoy it Im sorry if it’s a little messy and not the best I honestly always have something bad to say about my writing since whenever I look back I always think “I should have done this instead” (and I apologize if there isn’t much angst in this I’m not sure if I did well enough when writing since I’ve only ever written angst twice, so I’m sorry if it’s not that great!) LOL but I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night! N you are eating n drinking plenty of water this summer! I can’t have my one n only favorite writer getting sick! i would cry :c i love you soo much smooches always seeing you post makes me so giddy n excited i rlly cant help it! okay I should stop writing so much now but big big Chu chus n hugs n cuddles n everything nice in the world!! Please take care of urself smooches!

-from, your dear little boo boo 🎐 anon ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˶

🎐 ANON WASN'T KIDDING WITH THE ANGST- 😭😭

Being sick was something you had accepted. It was something you had grown accustomed to, unable to deny the reality of your current state. But something you had trouble accepting was how burdensome you were to your lover, convinced that this was a fact. It was already hard having to deal with your health complications, but to be honest, what hurt more was being helped with everything. Many people would kill for a life where they did not have to lift a finger. But you despised it. You didn’t want this life. You hated having to rely on Zandik and the clones to live. To put it simply:

Uselessness. That feeling circulated within every inch of your body.

No matter how much you tried to keep your spirits up, everything was slowly starting to feel useless. You hated not being able to live up to expectations anymore, no longer the quick thinking, intelligent assistant from back in your younger days. Sometimes it hurt to even look at your lover because of how brillant he was. Strong, intelligent, handsome. And then… there was you. The only thing you had to offer was eating up his valuable time. So, you decided, if you were going to be useless, you might as well be useless by yourself. So that your lover wouldn’t have to keep seeing you in this pathetic state.

Although it was a dumb idea, you couldn’t help but think about leaving this place sometimes. Of course you wanted to stay. But just to relieve Dottore of you. You didn’t really know how it’d work out but you were seriously considering it after everything. And you did. You were kind of surprised at how easy it was. Probably because never in the countless years you spent with them, no one expected you to run away of all things.

The clones have never felt such pure panic in their whole lives. And many of them have been alive for a long time. The whole lab is being torn apart, the regular Fatui workers are shocked at the current state of the lab, and as soon as Zandik sees how frazzled his clones he instantly knows something was wrong. But he would have never expected this. For you to leave him.

The clones knew better than to comment on their creator’s state. Although he looked the same to everyone else, they could see the tightened fists, clenched jaw. Dottore was upset. Upset for not paying attention to you more. For not noticing. For not being able to prevent everything in the first place. He rarely made mistakes. But this was his biggest one.

Seeing you lying on the same bed once again made your reality hit him harder. The lab would be quiet once more for a long time. But this was how it must be. Besides, it was nothing he wasn’t used to. When he cures you’ll, this would all be in the past. Nothing to worry about. But until then, he shall continue to search for a cure. To watch over you.

Nothing shall ever harm you. 

If you woke up, facing Zandik after your little unsuccessful stunt was possibly one of the hardest things you did in your life. The clones were smart enough not to bring it up (they didn’t want to stress you out more) but of course you’d need to explain yourself to Zandik. The room was completely silent, save for the beeping of machines and scribbling of pen against paper from Zandik. You knew he was waiting for you to start the conversation first. You only meant to severely apologize and give a short reason of why you did what you did, but the more you spoke, the more you spiraled into your self doubt and negative feelings about your current state, as Zandik held you to his chest and you gripped his shirt tight. He didn’t say anything until you were done blubbering and stroked your hair. Of course you weren’t expecting sweet words from him. He was always straightforward and said exactly what thought. No sugarcoating. That you were an idiot (affectionately) and you would never be a burden to him. He wanted you by his side. No matter what happens.

I hear you out loud and clear nonnie 😭 I live for angst with fluff so the alternative ending saved me but THE ANGSTY ONE WAS STILL SO GOOD?? Im a sucker for when a character doesnt care how long they have to wait as long as they get to be with you in the end. And the idea of Dot being willing to wait an eternity for you is just so 🧎‍♀️But also the clones being literally at your beck and call after but also being awkward af because they really don’t know how to comfort you verbally… so you just have a bunch of teal floof surrounding you waiting for you to say something. Welp needless to say you have hawk eyes on you at all times now

🎐 ANON IM HUGGING YOU TIGHT BUT ALSO GO TO SLEEP MY DEAR OKAY?? I DONT WANT YOU TO BE TIRED 😭🥺 AND I LOVEEEE YOUR LONG BRAINROTS OKAY?? THEY’RE AMAZING!!

Make sure to stay hydrated this summer too! Summer is my least favorite season since I really cannot handle the heat… I have no motivation to do anything when its hot 🚶‍♀️ But I will try my best once again (im already looking forward to fall) MWAH MWAHS HUGS FOR U TOO 🎐 ANON!! TAKE CARE OF URSELF TOO!