#anyway I say three days because that is how long it took for the Fever Dream to tell me the whole story

[modmad]

Rgb was the first TPoH character, right? How long after you created him was TPoH created? 🎤 (I wouldn’t know considering I was the ripe age of 3 when it came out lol)

3 days, though it took two weeks for me to publish the first page, because it took two weeks to find out what the title of the comic was

[loulovingho]

Prompt: tommy breakdown after buck goes through something traumatic, not right after. When buck is all good, tommy starts to shut down, and after a while buck notices and comforts him. Okay thats a long one sorry lol

This is probably not exactly what you wanted, but hopefully it's close enough! This fic features lots of snuggles.

Tommy stayed calm when he heard a firefighter had been seriously injured and air support was needed. He didn't panic when Chimney was the one to start relaying information to him and the flight medics. Even when he heard the words “Firefighter Evan Buckley of the 118” and “impaled” he focused on getting the bird from point A to point B.

When he landed the chopper, Tommy stared straight ahead and let the medics do whatever needed to be done to get Evan ready for transport.

He thought he heard Chimney ask if he should really be the one flying right now. He wanted to say, “Who else is gonna do it? I'm the only pilot here.”

Instead, he simply replied with a yes, then took off with the knowledge that his Evan was being worked on behind him.

He didn't ask how the patient was doing. He didn't listen to whatever the medics said. He did his job and got them to the hospital.

He didn't see Evan's injury until the surgeon met them at the helipad. A large metal rod sticking out of his abdomen. His turnouts had been pulled off of him, undershirt cut open. Blood, both dry and fresh, covering his body.

He had a pulse. Tommy did hear that.

But he looked lifeless.

He looked-

Tommy stopped himself from going there. He heard his coworkers say something about sending another pilot to pick up the chopper. That Tommy should go to the waiting room. He was the emergency contact anyway.

Tommy went. Sat and waited and waited, staring at the white and mint green wall in front of him. At some point, the rest of the 118 filtered in. Then Maddie, Karen, and Athena.

Eddie was on one side of him, Maddie on the other.

He looked down once to find coffee in his hand, but wasn't sure how it got there or who gave it to him.

Eventually, Evan came out of surgery. A success, the doctor said. It'd be a long recovery, but he'd make it.

The first time Evan opened his eyes, Tommy was beside him holding his hand. When Evan's face lit up into a smile, Tommy felt like his whole world just got put back together.

He stayed by Evan's side throughout recovery. Had to be forced into going home for a few hours every couple days for some real food and rest.

Tommy wasn't one for using his sick time, or his vacation time, so he used up what he could once Evan was home so he could continue to care for him until he was fully healed.

It took time, but eventually Evan got to the point where he could return to work on light duty. He couldn't go out on calls, but he could help around the station. After a couple months of barely leaving the house, he was more than ready to deal with paperwork, and cleaning, and cooking.

Three weeks after that, he was fully cleared. In one week, he'd be going out on calls again. Everything would be back to normal. When Evan called him with the news after his doctor's appointment, Tommy had congratulated him. Had picked up a cake after work and they'd celebrated together.

And then Tommy stayed awake all night long.

Evan curled up beside him, softly snoring with his breath hot on Tommy's side. Tommy's hand rubbed up and down his back all night. Right over his newest scar. He had a matching one on his abdomen. Right where the rod stabbed through his body and almost took his life.

No, Tommy didn't sleep that night.

He felt nauseous the next day. Evan noticed, of course, because Tommy was obsessed with his risotto and could barely get half of it down.

“You okay?” Buck asked as they cleared the table.

“Yeah, I think I might be getting a cold or something,” Tommy reasoned. “Sorry.”

Buck smiled at him even as he raised a hand to Tommy's forehead. “You don't have to be sorry for not feeling well. I don't feel a fever.” He moved his hands to Tommy's cheeks, then his neck, then ran his hands down his arms. Tommy knew the drill. The mere mention of not feeling one hundred percent would send Evan into a spiral, even if he did try to keep his face as nonchalant as possible.

“You feeling any congestion? Sore throat? Chills? Fatigue?”

Tommy took a step forward, rested his hands on Buck's cheeks and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I'm okay, Baby. Probably just tired.”

When they went to bed a few hours later, Tommy slept. For a couple hours, at least. He wished he hadn't though, because the nightmare he had felt more graphic than seeing Evan get taken away by the surgeon.

He woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. Thankfully, Evan was out like a light. Tommy got up and headed into the bathroom, turning on the sink to splash some cold water on his face.

He grabbed a washcloth and wet it, wiping the sweat off of him. Then, he pulled off his sweatpants and put on a new pair before getting back into bed.

Once he was back under the covers, he reached over and scooted his hand underneath Evan's body, nudging him until he turned and laid nearly half of his body directly on top of Tommy.

Tommy tugged the covers up until they were over Evan's shoulders, then he wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

Evan smacked a couple times, burrowing his head further into Tommy's neck. Tommy closed his eyes, breathed him in. Felt Evan's heartbeat against his chest. Listened as his breathing evened back out.

He closed his eyes, but he didn't fall back to sleep.

The next day they both had work, but Tommy ended up getting distracted so many times that his captain wouldn't let him fly. Tommy couldn't even argue with the decision.

They next day, when they both got off shift, Evan arrived a little later than Tommy with burritos in hand.

“They're from your favorite food truck,” Buck told him with a smile. “You haven't been eating much lately, so I wanted you to have something good.”

Tommy didn't have the heart to tell him that the thought of eating made him feel like throwing up. He choked down every single bite of his burrito, then managed to pull Evan into the bedroom for a nap.

Well, sex first, then a nap.

As he laid on Evan's chest, one arm curled up beside him and the other over Evan's pec, he glanced down at the scar. How it raised ever so slightly from the rest of his skin, bright pink against the white.

His chest ached. His eyes burned. The call that he'd forced in one ear and out the other repeated over and over now. “We need an ETA on air support on the Marriott fire downtown! Firefighter Evan Buckley of the 118 has been seriously injured. He fell and was impaled by a metal object. Goes through to his back. Unclear at this time if any major organs were hit, but he's losing a lot of blood and his heartbeat is irregular.”

Tommy didn't realize he'd started crying until Evan stiffened underneath him.

“Tommy?” he asked, his voice soft but concerned. “Babe, what's wrong?” He tried to move them so he could look at Tommy, but Tommy just clung onto him tighter.

He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a stunted, shaky breath. “Nothing. S'nothing.”

“Well th- that's obviously not true.” He ran his hands through Tommy's hair, then over his shoulders and down his back. “Come on, talk to me. Please.”

Tommy gave himself a second to calm down. He wiped his eyes before he slowly sat up to face Evan. Evan scooted up the bed so he was leaning against the headboard. He took Tommy's hand, moving his head to meet Tommy's eyes as he tried to look away. “Tommy.” He gave his hand a squeeze. “Please, I'm worried.”

“I... I was so scared.” He breathed out the words like he was admitting to some wrongdoing. “Evan, when you... When I heard it was you over the radio, I was terrified.”

Buck pulled Tommy toward him, wrapping him back up in his arms. “I knew something was wrong. I talked to Cap about it. He said not to push.”

“I was trying to be strong for you. I'm not the one who got hurt.”

“You don't ever have to be strong for me, Tommy. You're allowed to feel things.”

Tommy leaned back enough to be able to look at Evan. “I just put myself in survival mode,” he said. “It was all about getting you better. I could focus on that and not worry about anything else. But, now that you are better- which I'm very thankful for- it's... it scares me. I don't ever wanna see you like that again.”

“Me getting the all clear is what did it, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “I think it's always been there, the fear. But it definitely got worse as soon as I found out.”

“Why didn't you tell me, Tommy? We're supposed to- to share stuff like this with each other.”

“I didn't want you to think I wasn't supportive of you going back to work. Because I am supportive of it. I know you're excited, and I'm excited for you. I just- I really love you, Evan.”

Buck smiled. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Tommy's in a chaste kiss. “I really love you, Tommy.”

Tommy pulled Evan to him this time, holding him in his arms. “I have no doubt that you'll be as safe as you can possibly be,” Tommy said, his hand finding its way to the scar on Evan's back. “But I'm gonna be worried for a while.”

“I think that means you care,” Buck teased.

“I really, really care.”

“I like that you care.” Buck smacked a kiss onto Tommy's chest. “If it helps, I worry about you every time I hear you're going up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He thought about it for a second. “It does help.”

Buck smiled against his skin. “Good. You think you can sleep now?”

Tommy scooted down until his head rested against the pillow, his and Evan's legs tangling together. “I think I can try.”

[anasanthology]

Two’s A Company, Three’s A Crowd, Four… is Just Perfect

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), praise kink, breeding kink, very light choking, lowkey Soft Dom!Ethan Winters, possibly super light degradation but not really, overall pretty tame, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.

Notes: MY FIRST FIC BE NICE!!! Honestly, I can’t tell if this is bad or not 👀 This took me days to finish because I lost energy like half way through 😭 Sorry if it’s a little ooc, I tried to not do that but it might be 🫣 ANYWAYS, hope you like it 😁 if you have any comments JUST SAY THEM they will be appreciated 💕 hope you like, lovelies ☺️

3.6k words | Ethan Winters x AFAB!Reader

You stand on the porch of a small townhouse. Feeling the cool air blow around you, you try to make yourself smaller in your coat. It was freezing outside, but gas was expensive so you walked. The sweet burn of prolonged cold nipped at your fingertips and exposed ankles. The distant cries of a young child getting louder, accompanied by heavy fevered footsteps. The door swings open and a man pokes his head out giving you a weak tired smile.

“Are you the babysitter?”

“Yes.”

That was 9 months ago, and you wouldn’t have even imagined that would have led to this.

***

“What?” Your eyes widened. ‘What did she just say?’

“I asked if you could give me a little sister. My friend has a little sister and she said that her daddy helped her mommy build her in her tummy.” Rose kept on coloring with her crayons as she talked, “Mommy’s not here, but daddy could help you,” She smiled at you then looked towards her father, “right daddy?” Ethan’s body visibly tenses at the question and he lets out an awkward laugh.

“I don’t think it works like that Rosie.”

“Why not?”

“Cause…” he swallows thickly, “cause it has to be a mommy and daddy, and she’s not a mommy.” Rose crosses her arms and puffs out her cheeks.

“That’s dumb!” She throws her crayons onto the paper and pouts.

“How ‘bout we go to bed, Rose.” You suggest.

“‘M not tired!”

“If you lay down now I’ll have time to read you that book you like, I’ll even do the funny voices.” Rose’s entire demeanor changes.

“Really? Like it when you do the fish, it’s silly.” She giggles.

“It is silly, now let’s go!” You grab Rose’s hand and lead her to her room to put her to bed. “Long ago, a young girl went with her mother to pick berries for her father who was hard at work…” You read to her making sure to do the voices extra dramatic, you always added in new voice lines to make it a little more entertaining and she loved it everytime.

***

“She’s asleep.” You walk into the kitchen finding Ethan pouring a glass of wine.

“She loves it when you read to her. Thought it was gonna be a lot harder to get her to bed since she missed her nap today.” Ethan huffed with amusement. “I can never get her down that easily, she always says I’m doing the voices wrong and that you do it better.”

“Does she really?” You walk up to the counter he’s standing by.

“Every time.” He laughs then holds his glass to you, “you want some?”

“Maybe a glass, I don’t wanna stumble home.”

“I’ve told you that I could pay for your gas to and from here, it’s not that big of an expense and it’s getting cold out.” That was Ethan, always worried about everyone else even when it inconvenienced him.

“No,” you just shake your head, “I don’t mind it. Plus, I get more steps in.”

“If your legs get cut off from frostbite you won’t get any steps in.” He starts pouring you a glass, he had already taken one out for you before you even came into the room.

“God, Ethan!” Your eyes widened and you laughed, “you’re so morbid!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” he slides you your glass, “and if you can’t babysit anymore I don’t think Rose will ever sleep again.” You take a sip of your drink and slosh the wine around your glass.

“Guess I’ll have to start searching for wheelchair ramps then!”

“Okay, smarty pants.” Ethan rolls his eyes.

“Or you could get her that sister, bet a new baby in the house will tire her out.” You nudge his shoulder and giggle. Ethan’s body tightens up next to you.

“Oh I… yeah that could work.” He laughs nervously and looks away as a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I’m sorry for that by the way, she… Rose has been asking for a sister since I started socializing her at that parent support group place.” You notice his embarrassment and lean in.

“Oh don’t worry, Ethan. She’s just a kid, she didn’t know what she was saying. Bet though if you bring it up in like ten years she’ll be totally embarrassed!” Ethan lets out a soft laugh but is still visibly tense.

“Yeah, probably…” he chews his lip and sucks in a breath.

“You ever thought about it?”

“W-what?” He seemed to just about jump out of his skin.

“Have you ever thought about having another kid?” You give him an amused look.

“Oh. Uh… sometimes.” Color fills his cheeks and he looks away. It was a lie. He thought about it constantly. All Ethan wanted was more kids. He just understood how much he already struggled raising Rosemary alone, and didn’t want her or another kid to suffer from his irresponsibility. 

“What did you think I meant?” You giggled and leaned in a little further, now starting to enter his space. Maybe it was the wine that emboldened you, or maybe that was just your excuse.

“I uh…” he huffed out a laugh, “I thought you meant kids with you specifically.” Immediately after saying that he realized what had just left his mouth. Wine always seemed to make him unable to shut up.

“Oh.” Your face heated up not expecting him to be so straightforward. “Well, have you?” You ask in a quieter voice.

“No! I…” he exhales and looks over at you, you guys just look at each other in silence for what feels like forever. “Yes.” His voice was so quiet if you hadn’t been laser focused on him you would’ve missed it.

“Really?” You whispered back. You didn’t sound angry or even surprised, just hopeful. He nodded.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Yes.” You answered immediately, what did you have to hide now? He wanted it too.

“You have?” Ethan looks at you completely shocked. After the words left his mouth he expected you to yell at him, slap him even, for being a creep—rightfully so, in his opinion—and then quit on the spot, not agree.

“I have.” You bite your lip and look into your glass, heat starts climbing to your face. The fact that you had thought about that… Ethan could feel his cock start to kick at his thighs.

“And what are we gonna do about that?” His voice came out a lot shakier than he intended. Sounding more like he was genuinely curious rather than confident and flirty like he intended. It didn’t matter though, hearing those words come from him made your breath hitch.

“Well…” you bite your lip thinking for a minute. ‘Oh what the hell.’ Grabbing his shirt you pull him closer and press your lips to his. It wasn’t really a hot passionate kiss, more just a ‘I really hope you don’t fire me’ kiss, well at least it wasn’t at first. Ethan’s body relaxes after a few seconds, his hands come to your waist to pull you against him. The tip of his tongue peeking from between his lips to lick a hot stripe across your bottom lip. Suddenly you’re jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter and parting your thighs so he can slot himself between them. You let your hands wander behind his back and grab at his shirt as his start to rub at your sides. One of them runs up your body to press against your neck. Your body straightens and you break the kiss with a pant.

“You like that?” He pulls back a little further so he can look from your eyes to your kiss-swollen lips. Swallowing thickly as you try to respond to his words, yet nothing seems to come out. “Hmm?” He squeezes your throat lightly and you whine. Slick pools into the gusset of your panties. You try and push your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs, only leaving you wanting and squirmy as your knees push against the sides of his hips. 

“Mmh, yeah you do.” He squeezes your neck again softly and you continue to unsuccessfully try to clench your thighs together searching for friction. Noticing this, he lets his other hand fall to your thigh so that he can pull you closer to him. Not quite close enough to feel him where you need it.

“I do, I like it.” You nod your head as you talk quietly, your eyes glazing over with want.

“Yeah?” The hand on your thigh climbs up to rest on where your thigh meets your hip and he lets his thumb run along the crotch seam of your pants. “Pretty girl.” He presses his thumb in and watches your face, seeing the way your eyelashes flutter and how your lips part slightly as you gasp. You look down to where his thumb rubs at your cunt. The fabric separating him from actually touching you providing a much needed friction on your clit.

“Ethan…” your voice nothing but a whiny whisper.

“Hmm? What sweetheart?” The hand on your throat coming up to your jaw, his thumb swiping across your lower lip making you shiver. “You want something?” He keeps eye contact and keeps rubbing his thumb around your lips. Letting his finger dip into your mouth slightly, going in and out, back and forth, slowly, never letting it move in far enough. He rubs your saliva across your lips on every hot drag out of your mouth. Your lip starts to quiver and you move your head forward a little, trying to take his thumb deeper into your mouth.

“Mmm, yes.” He bites his lip and breathes out heavily. You wrap your tongue around his thumb and start licking tentative stripes up his finger, getting more confident as his jaw slacks.

“Keep going,” he whispers, “just like that.” You let your lips close around his finger so you can start sucking around his thumb. “Oh, good girl. Doing so good for me.” His head tilts back a little before he catches himself so he can keep watching the way your lips move when you suck him in. You pull your lips off him with a pop and a string of spit connects his thumb to your lips.

“Ethan, I want more.” You take your arms from his body and put your hands on the counter, leaning back.

“You want more, what?” He raises his brows at you.

“I want more of you, want more touching.” You lean in, biting your wet lips and smiling softly.

“No.” He lets his hands move to sit over yours, pressing them softly into the counter as he leans in to you even further than you did him. “I was telling you to ask for more.” His voice is firm but gentle, and any doubt he had in the beginning was gone. It made you wet. You couldn’t help but squirm a little at what was happening, or the implication of what it could mean for later.

“Oh okay…” you swallow, “Ethan, I want more, please?” Your voice comes out whiny and shaky. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” He starts unbuttoning and unzipping your pants before helping you to stand. He stands back to watch you as you start pulling your jeans down. Ethan watches you bend forward, the way your hands slide down your legs. You're making sure to pull them off slowly and completely so you don’t look like an idiot struggling out of your pant legs. You push them to the side and look up at him as you stand. Finally really paying attention to him rather than what he’s doing. Seeing you look at him like that, he palms himself over his jeans. You stand all the way up and pull your shirt over your head. Tossing it aside before putting your hands behind your back. Biting your lip as you look from his face down to the hand that teases his cock through his pants.

“Turn around and bend over, baby.” He looks you up and down like you’re a toy and keeps touching himself.

“M’kay.” You turn around like he asks and bend yourself forward till you can feel the cold surface against your cheek.

“Good girl.” His hand roams up the back of one of your thighs all the way up to rub your lower back. You arch for him, picking your head up and putting your arm over each other in front of you. He breathes out heavily and steps forward pressing himself against your hip.

“Oh look at you. You wanna be touched don’t you, baby?” You nod your hand and bury your face in your arms. “Yeah you do.” Ethan leans in pressing his front to your back and hooks his finger under the band of your underwear. He pulls it back a little and lets it slap back against your skin softly with a smile. His hand moves down to cup your sex, the feeling making you whine. “You’re so wet. Did I do this, Hmm? You’re wet for me?” He whispers right against your neck and you nod enthusiastically.

“Yes, ‘m wet for you.” He starts carding his fingers through your slit over your underwear, soaking them even more.

“Mmm, which part? Was it when I squeezed that little throat, or maybe…” Ethan leans in further so you can feel his lips ghost over your neck, “or maybe it was when I said I fantasized about knocking you up?” You could feel your pussy gush into your panties as you moan at his words.

“Oh? Which one?” The smirk in his voice is audible.

“I… both.” Your breath is shaky and your face heats up at having to admit that.

“Both? Well I guess we’ll have to do both then. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Your lips push together hard and you press back against his hand, still sliding lazily against your slit. His hand moves up and he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear again, but this time he starts pulling them down. Strings of slick connect you to your panties as he pulls them away.

“Look at you, so needy.” His fingers return to your slit and you arch back more. “Aww, you’re getting me all messy, baby. You know, I bet I could slip right into this needy little cunt without any preparation. You’d take it all wouldn’t you?” His fingers move to toy with your clit making you gasp.

“Mhm.” Your voice is muffled but he can still hear how whiny your tone is.

“But I’m not that mean, even though I know you’d like it. I’ll get you ready, baby, wanna hear that pretty voice while I fuck you with my fingers.” He moves his hand to line up one of his fingers and push it inside. “Oh god, so tight. Gonna stretch you out, baby.” He starts slowly dragging his finger in and out of your gummy walls. “You think you can take a little more?” Without even waiting to hear an answer he pushes another finger up into you.

“Etha-“ you whimper and bite your lip, moving backwards and forwards a little to meet his fingers when they push in. He flips his fingers over inside you and starts curling them against that spot inside you making you see stars.

“Pretty girl, you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about doing this. Bending you over the counter and filling you up while you whine and beg. Ask for it, baby. Ask me to fill you up.” He starts curling his fingers harder against your walls, pushing them against you the whole time he drags out. He stands up straight but keeps himself pressed against your hip.

“Please, Ethan. Fill me up, please.” Your voice is high and whiny. He throws his head back with a moan and starts rubbing himself against you.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah you sound so good like that. So so good.” Ethan’s voice is breathy and his other hand starts to toy with his belt, undoing it and pulling it through his belt loops to toss on the floor with a clatter. His fingers start to undo his jeans and he tries to pull them down quickly. “Shit.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss of stimulation. “Be patient, baby.” You look back at him as he pulls his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh. When you see his cock spring free you bite your lip and moan. Unable to look away from his leaking pink tip, your thighs clench together and your toes curl in your shoes. Ethan starts teasing the vein going up his length while he watches your face. Your mouth opens in a silent moan at the sight. “You like this, sweet girl? Seeing me touch myself while looking at you all bent over and desperate?”

“Yes, Ethan. Fuck, please, I need it.” You throw your head down onto your arms, unable to watch him any longer afraid you might cum just from seeing him.

“Of course.” He steps forward and starts rubbing his hard cock through your slit.

“Ethan, pl-“ you gasp and throw your head back when he suddenly pushes in about half way. He pulls back and pushes in slowly, going further with each stroke. Ethan’s hands grip the edge of the counter and his head falls forward. He stares intently where you two connect and lets out a quiet moan. The thought of his cock leaking pre-cum into your aching hole makes you clench around him.

“Shit. Oh fuck!” Ethan lets out a strained moan and his hand slides up your back and around your throat. The feeling of his hands on you makes you push back. He grins and squeezes the sides of your throat making you clench around him again. “Oh you do like that don’chu,” he leans forward so he’s pressed against your back and pushes all the way in, his tip touching your cervix, “gonna fill up this little hole while I squeeze your throat. You want that? Want me to cream your cunt while you get choked?” Your eyes roll back and you grind up against him at his words.

“Ethan, mmm please. Oh f…” your eyes start to water and your tongue goes limp in your mouth, “wanna be full.”

“Yeah oh, sweet girl.” He talks softly and starts fucking up into you again making sure to grind his tip right against your cervix. “I’m gonna fill you till it takes, baby.” You’re completely speechless, just moaning and whining completely at his mercy. He pulls you up against him and knocks your legs apart with his foot. His other hand coming up to slip a couple fingers passed your lips, which you immediately start sucking and licking on. “There you go, being such a good girl for me.” Ethan kisses the top of your head tenderly. You make a noise and he immediately takes his fingers out of your mouth to grip your face. “Hmm? What, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl. Jus’ for you.” The hand on your throat goes down so he can rub and toy with your clit. You moan and squirm against him at the stimulation. “You gonna cum, baby? Yeah, cum right on my cock, make a mess.” Your eyes roll back and fat tears roll down your cheeks to drop onto your chest.

“Ethan I-Ethan, mmm.” You start mumbling incoherently and he finally pushes you over. He slows his movements on you clit but keeps up his pace fucking you through your orgasm.

“Good girl, feel’ so good when you cum.” He pushes you back down on the table abruptly and puts his hands on your back keeping you there. “Take it.”

“Ethan, ‘m so sensitive, please.”

“I said take it.” You couldn’t help but just moan at the way he was talking to you. Ethan was always so sweet, you couldn’t have even imagined he could speak like that. “Oh you like that? You want me to get rough with you? Hmm?” He starts fucking into you harder, his tip bullying into your cervix. Your body just goes limp against the counter and he laughs softly. “Gonna cream this needy cunt. You want that? I know you do, baby, I can feel it.” One of his hands tangles up into your hair and pulls tentatively.

“Ethan.” You couldn’t say anything else, you couldn’t even think.

“Gonna knock you up, pretty girl. I’ll fuck you as much as it takes, till I get to see you all swollen with my child.” His voice starts getting shaky and high. He was watching the way your slick would string between you two everytime he pulled back. Suddenly his moans started to turn into whimpers and you could hear him suck air through his teeth. “Oh fuck…” Ethan throws his head back and pushes all the way into you, pressing his tip right against your cervix. Hot thick stripes of cum painted your walls. “There you go, good girl.” His head tilts back and he closes his eyes. He lets go of your hair and starts running his fingers along your back gently. All that could be heard was the heavy breaths that filled the air. He pulls out and you whine at the empty feeling. “You did so good.” He pulls you straight up against him and holds you. You can feel his cum start to drip and run down your thighs. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Feel good.” Your voice was quiet and weak.

“Yeah? I'm glad, pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He kisses your shoulder softly.

“Mmh, m’kay.” You close your eyes and lay your head against him.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up and starts carrying you to the bathroom to clean you off. “Think you’re gonna have to come around more often with a little one on the way.”

***

You were so glad you took this job.

[hockeynoses]

Served Just the Way You Like - R/oy x Jam/ie snz fic

Summary: Jamie is sick on game day but thinks he can still play. Roy refuses to let him, but he finds a way he can still be useful – infecting the opposing team with his cold.

Rating: PG-13 (as far as non-snz stuff goes). 4.5k.

Warnings: MESS! Some D/s elements. Malicious contagion via snzing on food. (The results of said contagion are implied, not shown.) If this sounds like too much for you, turn back now! I cannot stress enough how the main part of this fic is just Jamie snzing on the opposing team's catering setup.

Notes: I never thought I'd reach the point where I was comfortable not only writing something like this, but sharing it. So I hope you all enjoy! It took me three months on and off to finish this. And this goes without saying, but I would never condone something like this IRL, and in fact, I would hate it!

The title is a lyric from Table for Two by Joe. What a throwback!

-

Jamie drives to the club, excited to finally see Roy after a long five days apart. Roy had taken his sister and Phoebe for a long weekend in Germany – a trip to indulge Phoebe’s niche cultural obsessions and because Ruth and Roy are such workaholics that they’d both promised to push each other to go on vacation every so often.

The trip had been planned before Roy and Jamie were even a thing, and Jamie couldn’t go anyway - he had a photoshoot for a brand deal that weekend. It ended up being for the best – Jamie started coming down with something the day Roy left. It’s developed into a real bitch of a head cold – they’d had to put extra makeup on his face for the photoshoot so he didn’t look like he was dying, and he’d been constantly asking for tea to soothe his burning throat.

Missing Roy was a fierce ache that lingered all weekend. He selfishly wanted nothing more than for him to be back home so he could take care of Jamie. But Jamie was trying to be an adult, and that meant he wasn’t allowed to be clingy or call his boyfriend to whine at him while he was enjoying his vacation.

They had only exchanged a few texts over the weekend, Roy sending him pictures when he could. His flight had gotten in late last night, so Roy had gone straight to his own place, barely having time to unpack before he fell asleep.

Jamie had an early night as well, his body aching and exhausted. Still feverish, he’d had a night of fitful sleep, dreading the game the next day.

Now that Roy’s a coach, he has to get to the club earlier on game days, and Jamie usually sleeps in, going about his usual game day routine, heading to the club in the early afternoon.

At last, Jamie rounds the corner and sees the locker room doors, his small waist pack weighing more heavily on him due to how wrung out he’s feeling, though the added weight could be from the packet of tissues and some cough drops he’d stashed into one of the pouches. He’s dreading the game today, but is determined to suck it up and play. It’s his job as a professional athlete, and he doesn’t want to let the team down. He’s pretty sure he’s played through worse.

A whisper of a memory floats through his foggy brain – his dad’s voice, calling him a fuckin’ pansy for complaining of a fever before a game. He’d only been a teenager, but he’d quickly learned to hide any sign of weakness around his father, and by association, around the team.

At least he’ll get to see Roy after such a long weekend away. It’s still fairly early in their relationship and he knows Roy doesn’t mind, but Jamie still feels the need to dial back his neediness sometimes. He knows he can be a lot, and he doesn’t want to scare Roy off by being too much at once. He’s been dying for Roy to come back and take care of him, but they’ve never been in this situation before, and he isn’t sure how Roy will react. Maybe all the bedside manner in the Kent gene pool had gone to his sister.

Before he enters the room, a telltale prickle creeps through his sinuses and he stops in his tracks, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose as a painful stifle tries to force its way out. “ha-kxxSH!” His exhale is a relieved sigh. There’s a good chance that no one heard that. But pinching his nose has turned it an even deeper shade of red, one he can’t do much to hide. And denying himself the release of a sneeze has his sinuses feeling like they’re packed with cement and buzzing unpleasantly.

Once he’s certain there are no more sneezes about to creep up on him, he steels himself and heads into the locker room, greeted by the sound of teammates chatting.

He sets his stuff down on the bench by his locker, turns, and immediately he locks eyes with Roy, who’s been keeping an eye out for him from his desk. If Jamie wasn’t fluent in Roy by now, he would’ve missed the slight quirk of his lips and the way his eyes brighten at the sight of Jamie. It makes Jamie feel properly warm in a way he hasn’t felt in days – a gooey, happy feeling that floods outward from the center of him.

Roy moves first, coming out of his office to greet him. Even though they’re out to the team, a one-armed hug and clap on the back is all they usually allow themselves at work.

“Welcombe back,” Jamie says, voice genuine, as he clings a little longer than mere colleagues would. He can’t help himself; it’s been a shit weekend and he’s allowed this one comfort. He wants nothing more than to sink into Roy’s arms and bury his face in the warmth of his neck. It takes all he has to fight the urge.

“Thanks,” Roy says, rubbing his hand across Jamie’s shoulders before pulling back.

Jamie drinks in the sight of him. “Looks like you godt sombe sudn, Grandad.” He gives him his most charming smile, jealous of the sun that got to kiss Roy’s skin all weekend.

Roy rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, it was hot as fuck, and Phoebe had us running all over on all sorts of adventures.”

“Looks good odn you,” Jamie says, voice low. The intensity in Roy’s eyes is telling. He’s been missing Jamie just as much, and can’t wait to get his hands on him later tonight.

“You look…” Roy pauses, truly taking him in, “a bit tired, actually.”

“Oi!” Jamie protests, his throat burning with the effort. He whacks Roy’s shoulder with the back of his hand, indignant. “Thad’s dnot a dnice thing to say.”

“I’m saying it as a concerned coach!” Roy argues. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

Before he can answer, Jamie has no choice but to snuffle up some congestion, his runny nose finally getting the best of him. He wipes it with his palm, rubbing the tip of his nose in circles to stave off a developing itch.

“Yeah, bmate, got plendy of sleeb.” The forcefully chipper statement is immediately followed by a shaky inhale, and he snaps his hand up just in time to stifle a telling, “ha-kxxxgt!” into his fist.

“Tartt, if you’re sick-” Roy studies him with a stern look.

“I’b nodt sigck,” he says, betrayed by a marshy sniffle. “Idt’s allergies.”

“You’re not allergic to anything.”

Right, Jamie thinks, as a coach, he’d have had a look at all the players’ medical files.

“People can develop allergies as adults.” His croaky voice turns petulant, aware that he’s fighting a losing battle.

Roy stares at him, knowing that Jamie will give in to the need to break the silence and eventually say something incriminating. He doesn’t have to wait long before Jamie’s nose does it for him. It starts to twitch, his eyelids fluttering closed before he’s forced to cup his hands over his face and curl forward with a massive- “heh… heh’eehhRRRSSHOO!” It coats his palms in enough spray and spit that he has to wipe them on his pants. Jamie looks up sheepishly, embarrassed at having his cover blown so quickly.

“It sounds to me like you’ve caught a hell of a cold.”

“I’b fine.” The corners of Jamie’s mouth pull down in a frustrated pout.

“Where did you even pick this up?”

“I don’t know, bman.” Jamie tries and fails to keep the tired whine out of his voice. A cool hand presses to his forehead and he sighs at the feeling.

“Jesus, you’re burning up.” Roy says. The concern in his voice floods pleasantly through Jamie, always grateful for Roy’s attention. “You can’t play like this.” At that, Jamie snaps back to attention.

“The fucgk I cadn’t! Me legs work jusdt fiiiihh hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” Into his hands again, followed by an irritated cough that’s just starting to move into his chest. A few heads turn their way, and the guys nearest to him take a step back in unison.

“Jamie, you’re clearly not well enough to play. And as your coach, that’s my call to make.” Roy says firmly, voice deep with authority. He places a placating hand on his shoulder. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you play right now.”

Jamie’s gaze cuts downward, feeling like an unruly child being scolded. He drags the back of his hand under his nose and gives a thick sniffle, still fighting against his runny nose.

“Christ, you even look contagious. Do you want to get the whole team sick? You should have told me sooner.”

“You were on vacatiodn! I didn’t wadnt to mbake a big deal oudt of idt.” His dad’s comments filter through his head again, and he decides he’s not going to have that conversation in the middle of a crowded locker room.

“You still could have told Ted or Beard. Or texted me this morning. I wouldn’t have been mad, Jamie.”

“I’b sor- ehh…hih’TTSSHOO!” The inner elbow of his very expensive hoodie gets a generous spritzing.

“Hmm? What was that?” Roy asks with raised eyebrows.

“I said I’b – ggsh’IISHIEW! SNF. I’b sorry!” He has to wipe his nose on his sleeve before he can show his face again. It seems like each day of this horrid cold has brought with it increasingly messy sneezes, with no end in sight.

“Good boy,” Roy offers, a dash of condescension mixed in with his genuine tone. It affects Jamie all the same, warming him down to his toes. He should be embarrassed, but he’s too worn down to care. He almost sways with the relief of it - or maybe that’s the fever he hasn’t managed to shake. Roy drapes an arm across his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Let’s get you out of here. God knows we don’t need a fucking virus taking down the entire team at this point in the season, with the league table being as it is.”

A spark of an idea lights up Roy’s face at that, and he pauses, considering. Once again taking in Jamie’s sorry state – his cheeks ruddy with fever, his glassy eyes, and his poor raw nose. So clearly full of cold and extremely contagious. Having made up his mind, Roy gestures to Ted and Beard that he’s taking Jamie home, and that he’ll be back in time for the match. Business taken care of, he turns back to Jamie.

“Follow me,” Roy says as he manhandles him out of the room and down the hallway. Jamie has to muffle a few sneezes into the collar of his hoodie along the way, Roy holding him steady through each one. He’s so out of it that it takes him a while to realize they’re not taking the usual route out of the stadium.

“Where we goin’?” he asks, groggily wiping at the clear mess seeping out of one nostril.

“Just trust me. And try not to draw too much attention to yourself,” Roy says, as though that’s something that comes naturally to Jamie.

Roy uses his employee badge to get them into a door deep within the maze of the staff-only areas of the stadium. Opening it slowly, he scans the room to make sure it’s empty before pulling Jamie inside.

“Whadt are we doin’ ‘ere?” Jamie asks, blinking hazily. They’re in the lounge area for the visiting team; he recognizes it from when he played here with City. It’s outfitted with a full kitchen, dining tables, couches, TVs – the works.

It should still be about 30 minutes before the opposing team arrives, but the room has already been prepared for them. The fridge is stocked; silverware, plates, and glasses are all arranged on one end of the long counter, and the catering team has set out trays of food on beds of ice to keep them cool. There’s a tray of sushi, a gorgeous charcuterie board, a large bowl of salad, and some cold cuts for sandwiches, among other hot dishes being kept warm by small heaters under their covered metal trays.

“I have an idea,” Roy says with an evil glint in his eye. Jamie recognizes that look from training and knows well enough to be very, very afraid.

“…What?”

“You’re gonna contaminate their food and get all these fuckers sick, like the plague rat you are.” Roy shares an intense, secretive grin with Jamie, clearly proud of himself.

A shocked grimace pulls at Jamie’s features.

“Roy, that’s sigck. We cadn’t…” His breath scissors in and out. “We c-cadn’t do that! Hih…ha-ESSSHH’uh!”

“Of course we can.” Roy’s strong fingers give Jamie’s shoulder a shake, caught up in the excitement of his plan. “Think of the standings, mate! If a bunch of their best players are out the next couple of weeks, their numbers are gonna tank and we’ll move up a couple spots!”

Jamie stares at him in awe. “You really - hah…ha’XXGSH’uu! You really are a sadist.” Roy pins him with a knowing look. A flush prickles across Jamie’s cheeks and neck, and there’s a tug of heat in his core. Roy follows his lead, crowding into his space. He thrusts his fingers into Jamie’s thick hair.

“Well, you’re the one who showed up for a game that you’re obviously too sick to play, and you risked getting the rest of the team sick, so now I’m the one making the decisions.” He pulls Jamie closer to him, tugging gently on his hair. The words are growled softly against his cheek like a secret. “Which means I get to use you however I want, and you’re gonna let me.”

Jamie chokes on a moan, breath catching in his throat. Roy pulls back, his eyes flashing dark.

“Yeah?” Roy asks, giving him an out if he needs it. They’ve been together long enough that they can read each other clearly. Even though they might have their communication issues outside the bedroom, sex and its related power dynamics have always been something that they’re really, really good at.

“Yeah,” comes Jamie’s answering rasp. His eyes are needy, reverent. He can trust Roy. Roy will take care of him. And he gets to be useful. He can still help the team win, even in this twisted roundabout way that Roy’s found.

He’s afforded the soft brushing of Roy’s fingers against his cheek before he’s abruptly caught by the elbow and firmly escorted towards the long counter with trays of food on it.

“Right then,” Roy surveys the room, creating a plan of attack. “We should probably hit all the cold stuff first… not bother with the hot trays since they’re probably warm enough to burn off the germs… or something. Right?”

“Fugk iihh- hep’TIISSHuh!” Jamie sneezes down into his cupped hands, held inches away from his face. “Ugh. Fugk if I know.” He glances at his moist palms before swiping them dry on his pants.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Don’t waste all those sneezes before we even start.”

“Sorry, Jesus.” Jamie’s brows furrow in a little pout as he wipes his damp, squishy nose on the side of his hand.

Roy, anxious to get started and with an eye on the clock, grabs Jamie’s arm with gentle authority and steers his body towards the tray on the end of the counter. It looks like a lovely house salad, Jamie thinks absently, staring down at it. When he glances back at Roy, the other man is watching him expectantly.

“Alright, go for it.”

“I cadn’t just… do it odn commband!”

“Now’s not the time for performance anxiety, Tartt.”

“Ha-ha. You’re bloody hilari-hihh!” He sucks in a sharp inhale as the fuzzy sensation in his nose starts up again. “ihh...hih…ha’iigg’SHH’IUE!” On instinct, he turns his head down, bringing his elbow up in an aborted attempt to cover. About half the sneeze escapes and mists the salad below, the rest of it ends up on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Christ’s sake, the whole point is to not cover!” Shifting behind him, Roy gathers Jamie’s arms together behind him before clamping a large hand over both wrists. Heat thrums through Jamie’s veins, his awareness narrowing to the squeezing pressure of Roy’s hands. He fights the urge to squirm.

“Try again.” The husky command rings low in his ear. It vibrates through him, sending shivers across his skin.

His cheeks tinge pink to match his chapped nose, which is currently running freely onto his upper lip. His hand jerks in Roy’s grip, his brain on autopilot trying to get him to clean himself up. He settles for a desperate sniff, scrunching his nose up in an unsuccessful attempt. He’s so congested he can barely get any air through.

It sets off a new round of tingling, so itchy and persistent that he shakes his head to try and dispel it. His chest expands as his breath stutters and his brain goes pleasantly fuzzy. “heh…ha’EESHHH’OO! Ha’ITTCHH’uh!” The full-bodied sneezes burst from him, showering the salad with a hearty amount of mist. He blinks woozily, catching his breath as they watch it settle.

“Good job,” Roy says, and Jamie’s shoulders melt. He lets Roy shuffle them a step or two over so they’re standing in front of the tray of sushi.

“This next.” Roy taps the tray before moving out of the way.

“Give be a binute, Jesus,” Jamie whines, twin trails of mess clinging to his cupid’s bow. Roy surprises him by blowing a breath of cool air across his nose, and it turns out that, yeah, he really is that ridiculously sensitive right now. “Fu-uhhh-ck…” Jamie fights against it for a moment before remembering their purpose. His nose is stuffed so full right now, he just knows it’s going to be a fucking mess.

Tears spring to his eyes as his nostrils flare, the plaguing itch too intense to control. “Eh…hih…” His chest swells with a gasp before the air is blasted from his lungs – “AEEEISHH’IEW! Huh…Ha’AEEESHUH!” as he barks two huge, wet, cold-laden sneezes down over the waiting food.

It takes him a minute to come back to himself, his breath sounding heavy in his own ears. Roy presses bodily into him, rubbing a reassuring hand across his shoulders.

“Impressive,” he offers, generous with his praise. It only adds to the floaty feeling shimmering through Jamie’s body.

“Christ, look at you. Such a mess.” Roy says, velvety and raw.

Jamie’s face grows hot, humiliatingly conscious of Roy’s scrutiny. He’s sure his face is a disaster. Can feel the remnants of spit and spray all the way past his curved, parted lips down to his chin. He must look like a walking biohazard.

“Roy…” Jamie gives a waterlogged snuffle. “Cadn I have a tissue?”

Roy seems to enjoy Jamie’s struggle to recapture his composure.

“No.” Roy’s fingers clamp over his chin. He brushes a kiss to Jamie’s temple. The gruffness of his voice shoots straight to Jamie’s cock when he says, “I’ll clean you up when we’re done. Right now, I want you messy.”

A soft whine escapes him. “Roy…”

“Such a pretty boy.” Roy’s hand comes down over the back of his neck possessively. “I can’t help but want to see you looking like a right fucking mess sometimes.” His words slink down Jamie’s spine and pool low in his gut.

As Roy moves them further down the line, Jamie’s nose surprises him with a sudden, “hih’EGGSSH’iew!” that mostly ends up glistening on the stainless-steel counter.

“Use your aim, you Muppet. Or do you need me to do everything?” Roy asks with no real heat behind it.

His fingers thread back into Jamie’s frosted tips and he tugs, firmly pulling Jamie’s head back and positioning him right where he wants him - directly over the painstakingly arranged charcuterie board. It really is gorgeous - If Jamie wasn’t feeling so poorly, he’d want to dig in. He braces his arms on the table, his hands finally free of Roy’s hold. Apparently Roy had decided he was trustworthy enough to have his arms back.

“S-sorr-ehh…ha-eh’kkgh’ISHHOO!” The sneeze rockets through him. His muscles tense as he curls forward with the force of it, dousing the food below with a heavy amount of viscous, virulent spray. He moans, catching his breath. That one nearly tore his throat raw. He sags into Roy’s solid form, the achy torment of the past few days starting to catch up with him.

“I almost feel bad for these poor fucks.” Roy says, his arm a firm, comforting presence around Jamie’s waist. “There’s no way they’re not gonna catch this.”

“Mmm,” Jamie hums in response. Resting his fever-warm forehead against Roy’s neck, he sniffs up some of the gunk in his nose, the miserable, squelching sound of it echoing through the room. The bottom half of his face is still in a right state, but he isn’t about to wipe it on Roy’s shirt. He’s being good, and Roy promised he would clean him up after they’re done.

“I bet these fuckers’ll be so smug when they hear our star striker isn’t playing tonight.” Roy smirks. “But they’re gonna find out the hard way that you’re still our secret weapon.” A hand squeezes Jamie’s bicep and gives him an encouraging shake.

Jamie pulls back, his exhausted eyes smiling at Roy, basking in the praise that helps him find his second wind. Roy’s grin is wicked, confident in the success of his plan.

“Ugh, I dodn’t feel good,” Jamie says as he continues to lean on Roy for support.

“Good. Probably means you’re more contagious.” Then he softens. “Just a couple more and we’ll get you out of here.”

Jamie groans but lets himself be pulled along to the next tray made up of various cold cuts and sliced cheeses for sandwiches.

“Get this,” Roy directs, arranging Jamie until he’s directly in front of it. He hardly has to work at all to get another tickle started up. Taking a couple deep sniffs is enough to irritate the sludge that’s packed in his sinuses, begging to be released. His vision goes blurry as the itch builds and builds. His wet nostrils flare as his mouth falls open, his hitching breaths finally reaching a peak. “iihhh- hih’GGKSSHH’IUE!” He’s thrown forward with it, covering the food in an unrestrained torrent, the mist and spit visible as it settles. The dish takes it all.

“Guh…” Jamie leans back, tilting his head back to stop his sinuses from draining down onto the food. The bottom half of his face is a glossy mess. Roy snakes a hand into his hair again and pulls so his throat is exposed.

"You look wrecked...” Roy says, and a needy sound escapes Jamie’s throat. “Love it when you look a wreck for me."

“Roy,” he breathes out.

“I leave for four days and look what a mess you’ve become.” Roy’s teasing voice burns hot in the shell of his ear. “Next time you’re gonna tell me when you’re feeling poorly. Doesn’t matter if I’m clear across the world.”

“Yeah… Yeah, ‘course I will.”

“Promise?”

“Prombise.”

There’s a pause, and Jamie’s eyes search Roy’s face, his throat tight.

“Idt was five days,” he says.

“What?”

“You said you were godne for four days. Idt was five.”

Roy stares at him for a moment, his expression softening. “Counting down the days, were you?” He chuckles, a deep sound that reverberates through Jamie. “Fuck… Love it when you get all needy.”

And really, Jamie can’t help but go all melty at that.

“You gonna let me take care of you when we get home?”

“Uh huh,” he breathes through his mouth.

“There’s a good boy. I’ll handle everything; have you feelin’ better in no time.”

Jamie makes a little sound and curls into Roy for a hug. He feels Roy reach his arms around Jamie’s waist and squeeze him tight.

“Vacation was nice, but I missed your constant yammering in my ear,” Roy says into Jamie’s hair. Jamie laughs weakly – a wet thing that turns into a cough.

“Come on, just one more, then we’ll get you home.” Roy turns them to the tray of silverware laid out at the end of the table. “Finish ‘em off.” He brushes the hair from Jamie’s forehead as he takes in his clearly contagious mess of a face.

Jamie leans forward, willing to do anything Roy says at this point. He can feel a monster of a sneeze building, and tries to sniff through his clogged sinuses to help it along. Nostrils twitching, he rubs the tip of his nose in circles, his hand coming away wet with snot. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good to just get this crud out. “hah… Cobme ond… ihh… huh’IGG’SSHHAH! Hih’ZZSHHHUUHH’UE!” The sneezes shudder through him as he sprays the silverware with all the filth that has built up in his head. Roy holds him steady with an arm around him as they watch it settle, their mission accomplished.

“Good job, babe.” Roy gives his middle a squeeze, looking nearby at the basket of sandwich buns. “I should shove your face in one of these, but I’ll be nice and let you have a tissue. Since you’ve been so good for me.”

Jamie sags into him and groans – in relief, pleasure, exhaustion – he isn’t sure which.

“Oh, you’re so out of it.” Amusement shines in Roy’s eyes, along with a quiet sort of love. “Here, let me.” He grabs a napkin from the pile on the table and gives the bottom of Jamie’s face a cursory wipe before cupping it around his nose. “Blow.”

Jamie obeys, blearily filling the tissue with the muck leftover in his sinuses. It seems to never end. After several blows, he finishes, not quite gasping for breath. He still can’t breathe through his nose, but he feels about a hundred times better than he did a moment ago.

“You may be a mess,” Roy grunts at him, his lip curling up into a smirk. “But you’re my fucking mess.” He kisses Jamie’s forehead and pockets the soggy napkin. Despite the aches in his body, Jamie feels like he’s floating. He’s so gone on Roy, it would almost be pathetic if he wasn’t sure that Roy was equally as obsessed with him.

“Take mbe hombe?” Jamie asks, hand skimming down Roy’s arm to toy with his fingers. Roy threads them together.

“Of course, love. Let’s go,” he says before pulling Jamie along, leading the way as they make their escape into the echoing halls of the club.

[whumpsmith-participates]

Medwhump May 2024

Day 25 - High fever

Kinda a prequel to Day 11 - Passing out and also Day 13 - "You've been very sick"

TW: minor whumpee (17), illness, fahrenheit, tobacco

@medwhumpmay

Erick was prone to infections. Between frequent injuries, less than ideal living circumstances, not quite adequate diet, and constant stress, it was nearly a miracle that he wasn't sick all the time. It didn't help either that he had the tendency to ignore any early symptoms, powering through so he wouldn't disappoint Fetch, or anger him. He didn't like to be called lazy or ungrateful, because he wasn't, so he avoided being seen as such.

Until his body forced him to stop.

Beep!

Fetch looked at the display on the thermometer, frowning a bit.

"A hundred and three," he said, "how long have you been feeling sore?"

"I think...since yesterday?" Erick said, pulling on his shirt a bit as the sweat was making it stick to his chest.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't this bad yesterday," Erick said with a shrug, "I just need a nap..."

"Not so fast," Fetch said, "I want you to drink some water first and take an Advil. Then I'll go out to get you some ice to cool you down."

"Hrm...I'm sorry," Erick said.

"It's okay, I had nothing better to do anyway," Fetch said, "just get into bed, I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

Erick stumbled towards the bedroom while Fetch headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He found some b-brand ibuprofen in the drawer and took out a pill before heading towards the bedroom, where Erick was adjusting the pillow in an attempt to get comfortable. He helped the teen take a couple of sips to wash down the pill, before telling him to call if he started feeling worse while he was out.

Luckily it was a short trip to the store, and Erick slept through Fetch's absence. He quietly entered the apartment, putting some of the ice he just bought in a bowl and stuffing the rest in the freezer. He added some water to the ice and let it sit for a bit before finding a clean washcloth in the pile of unfolded laundry that sat on top of the machine.

He carried the bowl into the bedroom, setting it on the nightstand and dunking the cloth into the water, making sure it was nice and cold before squeezing most of the water out before laying the washcloth over Erick's forehead and eyes.

"Oh my god..." he groaned quietly, "thank you."

"You know the drill," Fetch said, "try to flip it or wet it again whenever you wake up."

"Mhm..." Erick just said, seeming to drift off already again.

Fetch just shook his head a bit and headed out, finding something to do to keep him busy, though he still checked on the teen frequent enough, making sure he drank water, or refreshing the wash cloth with a new layer of ice water.

After a couple of hours he checked if his temperature had gone down yet, only to find it had climbed to 104. He sighed, getting up and heading into the bathroom to begin filling up the bathtub. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he plugged the drain and headed back into the bedroom to wake Erick.

"Hey, come on, sit up. I know you're tired, but we need to get your temperature down, okay?"

"Ow..." Erick groaned while Fetch pulled him into a sitting position.

He tried to lay back down while rubbing his eyes, but Fetch stopped him, grabbing a hold of his jaw to make him look at him.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked.

Erick pulled his head from Fetch's grip, rubbing his eyes again, before pulling his hands through his hair.

"I dunno," he said, "everywhere? My head..."

"It's just fever aches," Fetch said, secretly relieved, "come on, a bath will do you good. Do you need help getting in?"

"No," Erick quickly said, "no, just give me a minute..."

Fetch just nodded, but waited to make sure whether the teen would need a hand at all or not. He managed to make it to the bathroom okay, and then closed the door in his face.

"Don't lock it," Fetch said, "shout if you need me."

"I'm fine," Erick insisted, turning the tap off before the bath would overflow.

He waited until Fetch's footsteps had moved away from the bathroom door, before getting undressed and climbing into the tub. The water wasn't as warm as he'd liked, but the cooling effect was kind of nice too. The fog in his head cleared a bit, and the aches settled a bit as well, allowing him to relax.

When the water got too cold, he got out, draining the tub and finding Fetch had left some clean clothes on the edge of the sink. He dried himself off with a towel before getting dressed, already feeling a lot better. When he left the bathroom Fetch made him sit down and drink some more water, as well as eat some toast, and take his temperature again.

"Did I pick up another flu on the last job?" Erick asked, holding still when Fetch jabbed the thermometer in his ear.

"Something or other," Fetch said, "if it's viral we just gotta wait it out. If you don't improve it can be bacterial instead."

"Hrm..."

Beep!

"Back to a hundred and three," Fetch said, "hopefully it doesn't shoot up again."

"Can I...go lie back down?" Erick asked.

"Finish your water first," Fetch said.

Erick nodded, slowly sipping his water until he'd emptied the glass before going back to bed, leaving behind a half-eaten piece of toast.

Unfortunately his fever spiked again during the night, this time accompanied by delirious babbling, keeping Fetch plenty busy as he had to stop the teen from getting up when he was in no state to move around.

Luckily his temperature dropped a bit again after Fetch finally got him to go back to sleep, but they weren't out of the woods yet. He continued to fluctuate the rest of the day between a high fever and a concerningly high fever. And after another restless night, Fetch was beginning to suspect it might not be a viral infection after all.

He contacted one of his associates to try and get his hands on some broad-spectrum antibiotics, hoping they would be enough. At the end of the morning, he finally heard back, getting a location and a price. With a sigh, Fetch got ready to leave, checking on Erick a last time.

"Kid, wake up," he said, taking the damp washcloth off of his forehead and dunking it in the icewater.

Erick groaned a bit in reply, keeping his eyes closed. Fetch sighed, taking the wash cloth and dabbing a bit around his throat and on his chest before laying it back on his forehead.

"Did you hear me?" he asked.

Erick blinked his eyes open, looking over at Fetch, but not really looking at him. Fetch sighed. He couldn't blame him in his current state.

"I'm going to get you some medicine," Fetch said, trying to keep things simple, "try to remember to drink water. I'll grab you a couple of bottles so you don't have to get up for them, okay? You can just stay in bed."

Erick didn't reply. Fetch just sighed and patted his knee before going back to the kitchen and pulling a six pack of plastic water bottles from the fridge. He placed them on the nightstand in the bedroom, taking the plastic wrapping off so Erick could get to them easier in his state. When he headed out, he stopped by the door and turned back to the teen. He was still peering at him, but there didn't seem to be much thought behind his eyes at all.

"I'll be back before dinner," Fetch said, before heading out.

He wasn't. His contact made him wait, then he changed the location, and then he bitched about not getting paid enough. Fetch had to set he record straight, but the whole ordeal caused him to arrive home much later than he had planned.

He was already cranky about all the effort he had to take, he was hungry because he hadn't had dinner yet, and he really hoped Erick's condition wouldn't have worsened, or he'd have more cleaning up to do. With a sigh, he lit himself a cigarette before unlocking the front door and heading inside.

He could tell right away that something was off. The bedroom door was open, and he could see Erick lying in the doorway. Fetch cursed under his breath, throwing his cigarette on the stairs before rushing inside to check on the teen.

He seemed to have passed out, not responding to Fetch shaking him. His breathing was shallow, and he felt hotter than he had before. Fetch cursed as he dragged him back to bed, checking his temperature. It was over 105 again. He did get antibiotics, but he got the oral kind, and if the teen wasn't conscious, he couldn't take them.

"Fuck," Fetch said, pacing the room a moment before making a decision.

With a grunt, he hoisted the teen over his shoulder and carried him out of the room and outside towards his van. He propped him up in the passenger's seat, covering him with his jacket to keep him warm before putting on his seat belt. Whilst he walked around to the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and looked up a number, pressing his phone to his ear while putting on his own seat belt and starting the engine.

"Hey, is this the emergency room? ... Great. I'm bringing in a young man, late teens, spiking a high fever and unresponsive, I'm turning onto the road now, I can be there in twenty or thirty minutes."

He didn't give them any more details. He could think of a cover story on the road. They could worry about police poking around after Erick had been tested and treated.

I really didn't think I'd serialise any of these, yet here I am

Masterlist Main account

Taglist for the dynamic duo: @lavndvrr

[seiya234]

man who would speak true

"You're not supposed to be here."

The pale woman, the jaw bone of a deer in her hand, was initially too engrossed in her task to hear Willow's statement. She had fallen to her knees where the water met sand, and was digging as deep of a hole as she could with her hands.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

The woman, so pale white that she should have been burnt already under the sun in the sky, dropped the jawbone in the hole, and quickly filled the hole back in. The water rushed over it, quickly rinsing the sand off the woman's hands and removing any evidence of the hole entirely.

Willow didn't try digging up the jawbone. It had been too long buried in her.

"You're dead," she finally managed to say.

"I am," the pale woman agreed, standing up and shaking the last bits of sand and water from her hands.

"Why are you here then?"

Ms. Lilly smiled, showing the teeth that were rotten, the gums that were red and swollen, before looking pointedly down at Willow's stomach.

"Just a friendly reminder."

(she fed me words that I could not taste)

"Hey Lucy Ann?"

Lucy Ann looked up from under the massive wide brimmed hat she hadn't needed in decades.

"What's up?"

"Can I ask a weird question?"

"Sure Willow. Is it, 'Why can't my brother strike out against a kindergartener?'"

Willow looked up to where her brother was indeed getting trounced by another child under four feet tall, one of the kids in Vivi's class.

"Lucy Ann he's not supposed to win against the kids."

"I'm just saying he should put up more of a fight. Anyway, what were you going to ask me?"

"Is there any like, folklore about like, how vampires came about? Like how do you get vampires?"

"That's a lot of 'likes' for you. Are you okay Willow?"

Willow smiled wanly. She wasn't sure.

"Yeah I'm fine."

---

(i had no tongue, it had been replaced)

Decades later, looking back on it, Willow didn't know why she did what she did that day.

Certainly it wasn't the first time that she was facing certain death.

And certainly it wasn't the first time that for one reason or the other, she was on her own, with no help.

(could she call Dipper? at any time? absolutely.

but was it wise, to call a demon every time you needed to escape death? even if that demon was your uncle?

dipper had told her no himself)

Willow had faced a hundred people before who wielded magic and blades and almost took her life, faced a hundred people who weren't phased by her fire, who matched her toe to toe, left cuts and scars on her.

But tonight she was cold, she was tired, she had been wondering before this why on Earth she found herself going out three or four nights a week looking for trouble, and did it even really fucking matter when nothing she did seemed to make a dent in the amount of power hungry weirdos that wanted to take a bite out of her home-

and then Jerry- fucking Jerry- dodged the fire she had lobbed at his head and cut a slash across her stomach.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

It hurt a lot and Willow didn't have time to stop and assess if it was just skin or if he had cut down to her muscle, didn't have time to back up and take one second to fucking think because he was swinging that stupid goddamn meteor knife that he spent ten minutes mansplaining to her about before trying to kill her and-

Another swipe, making an x on her stomach, and Willow snapped.

While he was still close to her she clapped her hands on his shoulders, bringing him in close to her face, close enough to kiss. She looked deep into his eyes, and while he was confused by the turn of events, Willow pulled.

She felt his anger at her, anger that she would interrupt his plans to raise Mo'xiah the Fevered, anger that she was actually able to fight back; she felt that anger and she pulled it into her.

Felt the confusion as he realized that her fingers were gripping his shoulders so hard that they the nails were breaking the skin; she felt that confusion and she pulled it into her.

Felt the fear as he realized that he couldn't break eye contact, the fear as the knife dropped from fingers gone numb, the fear as his muscles loosened and relaxed as Willow effortlessly sorted through every single emotion he had ever felt;

She felt it all. She pulled it into her, and she fed it into the dark ocean that was her heart. She pulled and pulled until she felt Jerry finally go limp in her hands.

Willow let go, and he fell at her feet.

For a second she felt nothing.

Then she felt everything.

Her heart was beating fast, too impossibly fast, and she could feel her skin burning, her body vibrating from the energy that she had pulled into her.

She could feel the wounds in her stomach begin to heal, could feel the muscle fibres stretch towards one another and begin to mend, the skin rapidly sealing up as well. The ankle she had rolled yesterday gave a loud pop before a wave of relief.

Her wounds were gone- but she was still so hot, still so very hot, because she was full full full and there was no outlet for what she had taken. Before Willow could do anything though, her body made up its mind for her; on her legs, the many tiny ropy scars that she had gained over 25 years of life began to slowly melt away, fading into her limbs as the skin smoothed out, became taut.

Her scalp felt funny; Willow held up the end of her braid only to see her hair growing before her eyes, longer and thicker until it broke free of the hair tie she had put in. The nail polish she had put on earlier that day was rapidly wearing off, as new nail came shooting out of the beds of her fingers.

At her feet, Jerry's body breathed in, breathed out. But she had hollowed him out, scooped everything about him out like ice cream and popped it in her mouth.

Just like Ms. Lilly.

It didn't.... the horror she felt as a teenager was not here this time.

Probably because Jerry deserved it.

That was probably it.

Still shaking, Willow dragged Jerry's body out of the basement, to leave it on the lawn for someone to find and take care of.

It should have been an effort to drag the dead weight of Jerry.

It wasn't.

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

They met once a week for cards and catching up at Acacia’s trailer in Bend. Reina would go visit friends or family in Gravity Falls, Willow drove the hour and a half, and Hank had a standing ride from Uncle Dipper in exchange for a box of ice cream sandwiches. They all spent the night in one bed, just like they were kids and in the morning one of them would make Stancakes.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant,” Hank said, for the fifteenth time today.

“I can’t believe you aren’t saying ‘Thanks for taking a bullet for the team and giving Mom and Dad a grandbaby.’” Acacia stretched. “Though I guess it IS my duty as the eldest child-“

Willow and Hank groaned, and as they threw cards at a laughing Acacia, Willow wondered at how…okay this all felt?

She never expected this….. well maybe to be fair, she really didn’t know what to expect as an adult. Looking back, now that they were 25, their childhoods had been so deep, so filled with wonder and magic, terror and blood… Gravity Falls was their whole world, their little fiefdom, and with the safety of a demon uncle, a mobster grunkle, and a Mabel behind them, the triplets were allowed a level of freedom to explore that few kids their age had.

Willow was terrified when it came time for college, time to leave Gravity Falls and figure their lives out.

(terrified because Hank wasn’t coming with her and Acacia-)

But it had turned out… alright?

Bend was good for Acacia….well, ish. Both her and Hank could see from a mile away that Acacia was desperate to feel safe, and quite frankly- Willow looked down where she saw two bright spots in the still flat stomach of her sister- speed running domesticity.

Willow had never seen it coming.

But it was Acacia’s choice, and after some gentle prodding and some considerably less gentle sibling fights, Hank and Willow had agreed to leave it at that.

Anyway, all things considered, Bend had been good for Acacia. She had taken to riding her bike through the badlands, and getting artistic inspiration from the scrub and the desert. Reina and her were frequent patrons of the last Blockbuster Video, still holding on thanks to the VHS revival, and they went downtown every week for dinner and a stroll. It was smaller than Willow thought her sister would ever want, but it suited her well.

“Hey Willow can you help me pick up these cards and I’ll shuffle?”

“Sure Hank.”

Hank had blossomed in Portland. No one else could see it but her (okay maybe Uncle Dipper did? Hard to tell to be honest) but Hank always had a Presence that filled whatever room he was in. Maybe he wasn’t as loud as Acacia or as flashy as Willow, but Hank was always attuned to the world around him in a way that neither she or Acacia were.

It just took moving to Portland for Hank to not only realize it, but to begin to tread through the world with a heavier step than before.

Quite frankly, it looked like Hank was about to be on some weird shit and Willow couldn’t wait to see where this was going.

As for Willow herself, well…

(“Hey, Willow-?”)

Willow had seen the world. She did an exchange year in Japan during college and the time on her own for the first time in her life was as equally valuable as the time exploring another country-

(“Uh, Wills?”)

-but ultimately there was no other place in the world for her than Gravity Falls, no other home than the Shack, no-

“Willow!”

Willow started. Hank and Acacia were looking at her somewhat incredulously.

“What’s up?”

Acacia shook her head. “Girl you were lost in the sauce. We’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes now.”

“You have?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah. When did you learn to shuffle cards?”

Willow looked down.

Her hands, which had all her life undexterously refused to learn how to shuffle, were now effortlessly going through round after round of shuffling the deck.

Willow didn’t know how to shuffle cards.

But Jerry did.

“Willow, are you okay?”

“…no.”

------

(i only spoke truth but it only brought death)

The second time came a year later. Once again, even reflecting on it, Willow couldn't place her finger on why then, or why that person.

Just that she was in yet another fight for her life, and Julia had managed to get the upper hand and now Willow was lying on the ground, the bat in her hands the only thing keeping Julia from putting her hands around Willow's neck to strangle her.

Their faces were close, close enough for Willow to feel the heat of Julia's breath, see the hate in the other woman's eyes-

Quick enough for Willow to rear up and kiss Julia. The other woman was utterly surprised for a second, but a second was all Willow needed, because again she began to pull.

The garrote dropped from Julia's hands as Willow deepened the kiss, drawing from Julia her hate, her sorrow, her fear. Willow felt Julia's hands hit lightly against her sides, fighting like a bird in a cage but Willow had Julia now, her fingers clinging so tight bruises were blooming underneath them.

Willow drank every emotion out of Julia, felt the soul inside shake with confusion and then settled down, wiped clean prematurely. Willow didn't let go because there was some ice cream left at the bottom of the bowl, something she could sense, something on the tip of her tongue-

the lightning in Julia's brain, the rush of blood through her veins, the fairy lights of every nerve ending, the steady pump pump pump of her heart, once Willow could feel it, it was so easy to draw it in as well, to feed it to the dark and roaring ocean within herself.

Julia spasmed, then fell limp in Willow's arms. Willow let her down gently onto the ground.

She didn't check for a heartbeat.

She knew where it had gone.

And the rush as her lungs decided to start fucking working for the first time in their lives was...

Well it was kind of delicious, really.

---

"Fancy seeing you out here."

Willow sat down on the ground next to Lucy Ann. Inside of Hank's new home, the party continued on apace.

"The noise was a little much for me," Willow said weakly. Her head ached, but it wasn't from the noise.

"Sure...." But Lucy Ann thankfully let it drop.

Willow leaned her head against the fence, the pressure easing her headache slightly.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

Willow started. She looked at Lucy Ann but the vampire's face was dead serious.

"I would love that."

Lucy Ann rolled her glass in her hands. "I heard this tale in Florence a long time ago. I had met up with a group of young men and women at church, and we left town for their country house- holed up there for two weeks telling stories."

"Lucy Ann, I've read that book-"

"Yes well Boccaccio didn't put everything in, now listen."

Chastened, Willow sat back.

"Do you know how we got the first vampire?"

She remembered asking a few months ago but

"Um, no."

"Yeah no one does, it's probably some science shit. But I like the explanation that the Master of Florence gave me in that house, while the young ones were telling their own gentle stories. So-"

A shiver went up Willow's spine and the top of her head tingled."

"Once upon a time there was a cowherd. Most of his time was spent far from his community, keeping an eye on the cows as they grazed until it was time to bring them home for slaughter or for milk.

This year, however was different. This year there was a drought. He kept them out as long as he could but little by little the ponds and oases all dried up. He began to turn them back to the community, where there was a river, but they were several days away.

And all the while he was thirsty. So, so very thirsty. He tried to go as long as he could because he knew they were close to home but his mouth was so terribly dry.

So one night, when the herd was asleep, he crept up to one cow and slit a vein in it's throat, and when the blood flowed out, he drank it like it was the coolest spring water.

The next day they made it home."

"Now-" A gnat flew into Lucy Ann's throat and she coughed for a second, before taking a drink of something that was far too thick to be wine. She started again.

"Now, this man was not special in what he had done. He was not the first or the last person to try and use blood like water, in order to survive. But this man... he could not stop thinking about what he had done. How the blood, body hot and bitter with iron, had gushed into his mouth. How the salt iron taste lingered on his tongue for days afterward.

How he hadn't told anyone what he had done.

He kept thinking about it. And thinking about it. The action running on replay in his mind.

Until finally it came time to butcher an old cow for its meat. He was alone in the shed. No one would bother him. So he slit a vein in the cow's throat and the pleasure that it brought him was so great he came on his feet."

Willow jerked and Lucy Ann looked at her over her wine glass for a long second, before continuing.

"The problem here was not the blood, nor the hunger. The problem was that once was not enough. For it was only days later that the man made sure he was alone and took his knife out and drank from his herd again.

Soon he found himself drinking from the herd every day. The man was clever, so good at managing his habit! He discovered which veins he could open without harming the cow over much, learned quickly to change cows, figured out the best times when no one would spy him and ask what he was doing.

For several months he lived for the time of day when he would surreptitiously take a drink or two from his herd. His wife worried for him: his skin was turning greyish in tone and he no longer took her to bed. He thought he had it under control, even as he sharpened his teeth with a file in order to bite instead of using the knife. Biting was so much less efficient than the knife but it brought him closer to the blood. The biting felt... good.

And it never occurred to him that he should be worried about that.

Finally, again, the time came to slaughter one of the herd. The man was so horribly excited; the last time he only had taken a few drinks, for he did not know what he was doing. Though he was now taking from his herd two, three times a day, it wasn't enough for him. He needed more.

It was him and the cow. For once he didn't use his teeth, but instead the knife. He slit it's throat and immediately pressed his mouth to the wound, letting the blood shoot into his mouth.

Every time before he would stay until he needed to breathe, but not this time. His hunger was so great that it drove him to stay. His body cried for breath but he only plugged his nose and clung tighter to the cow, his fingers digging into its skin. The blood was flowing with each pump of the cow's heart but it wasn't fast enough so he began to suck. He drank until his stomach hurt and then past that, drank until his stomach swelled and then past that, drank until his stomach was distended, rock hard and painful to the touch and it. still. wasn't enough. Because do you know what the lesson here is Willow Pines?"

Willow shook her head.

"The lesson is, it will never be enough. He drank until his stomach almost burst, and the blood was coming up through his nose because there was no room and it still wasn't enough. Because he woke up the next day, went to drink from the herd like normal but the spark, the rush he craved? It was gone. He had killed a cow by gorging on it's blood until it finally lost too much and there was no going back. It tasted like ashes in his mouth. He took care of the herd and went home to his wife, and his children. That night he noticed something.

He noticed how good his wife smelt. And he noticed how fast his children's hearts beat.

He noticed that for three days before he called every single one of them into the shed in the back.

And when he had eaten his family, he tried to go outside, but the sun had noticed his terrible hunger, and began to burn him for his sin. It was only in the cool of the night that he could finally leave the shed. But it didn't matter. Anything human in him was gone, and all that was left was a hunger that walked on two legs."

Lucy Ann finished her glass.

"Because this man could not control his hunger, his hunger controlled him. So great was his hunger that it grew unleashed from him, became alive within his blood- it gained a capital letter even. So great was this Hunger that one night the man wasn't careful and instead of killing his food, his food woke up, even Hungrier than the man himself."

She paused. "Anyway that's why we think vampirism might be a virus."

Willow was frozen.

Lucy Ann smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Thanks for listening to my story. I'm going in now." And she skipped inside while Willow felt like she was going to pass out.

---

There was a six month period, where Willow did not go out cult bashing.

If anyone asked, Willow told them that she was taking some time to do some self reflection and soul searching.

And that was true!

But no one needed to know that soul searching was because Willow was getting ready to go out one night and found her mouth watering in anticipation.

---

"We call it the apple."

Willow didn't protest at Ms. Lilly sitting on her beach. That boat had sailed long ago.

"The vampires," Ms. Lilly began to lecture as Willow sat down next to her, "have the Kiss. But theirs is a true virus." She paused. "Maybe. The community is still not sure about that."

She went on. "But they have it easy. They can take any schlub they see, give them the Kiss, and their child is born. Those like you and me however?"

Ms. Lilly began drawing in the sand. "First we have to decide we want to reproduce- that's the easy part. But then we actually have to find a child, one with abilities like yours and mine. Then of course, step two is not getting greedy and eating your potential child- have you found another like us yet?"

"No," Willow managed to grit out.

"Mmmm, if you think you're hungry now, just wait until someone like us crosses your path. But yes. A child comes into your life. You draw them close. You teach them to reach outside of themselves. You tell them the things they can do that they would have never, ever, imagined on your own."

Ms. Lilly leaned in close and her mouth still smelt of rot. "You push and push and push until finally they eat the apple."

She paused. "And then admittedly that's usually when your child eats you, but no one ever said parenthood was an easy or rational choice."

"I didn't want it," Willow finally said.

"Mmmmm but you chose it!"

"I was 16. I was a child."

"Well. That's what made it so easy."

"Wow. Thank you-"

"Oh my girl, I'm so glad you saw the truth-"

"-for saying something so absolutely gross that it snapped me out of this bullshit."

"Why whatever do you mean?"

"I'm not like you."

"Yes you are. You've eaten the Apple. You've killed now, thrice, and used another's life force to power your own flesh."

"And I will own that, until the day I die. But here's the thing. I don't have to do that."

"But you can't control yourself!"

"Yes actually! Yes I can! The 'not killing people' button is actually very easy to not push."

Ms. Lilly began to sweat. It smelt like iron.

"But my dear, think of the power-"

"The power is not worth my soul. No thank you."

"You need to do this! Or you will-"

"Die? I went seven years between killing you and killing Jerry, and another year between Jerry and Julia. And nothing untoward has happened to me in those time periods. You ate because you wanted to, not because you had to."

The blood was beginning to ooze from Ms. Lilly's pores, the smell of rot becoming increasingly stronger.

"But my girl-!"

"You know, I am hungry as a matter of fact."

"Yes, listen to that hunger!"

Willow smiled.

And she bit Ms. Lilly's head off.

---

"How did it happen, Lucy Ann?"

Lucy Ann didn't ask what Willow meant, only watched as Willow shuffled cards aimlessly on the table for a minute or five before finally speaking.

"I've... I've never met anyone as old as I am. I think the last time I met someone older than me was in the stands waiting for a match at the Colosseum."

Lucy Ann paused.

"And honestly remembering that conversation now, I wish it had been something more deep than 'pass that neck please.'"

Lucy Ann paused again, for a long while. Willow was getting ready to put the cards away when

"It's about control. Restraint."

Lucy Ann rolled her jelly jam jar of blood between her hands, watching the blood slowly coat the sides as it moved between her hands.

"I am the oldest because, well, okay there is an absolute inordinate amount of luck and grace involved, but I am the oldest because I learned quickly the things I needed to do to survive in this body. Drink, but not too deeply. Don't leave a body because bodies attract attention, no matter what era."

Lucy Ann took a dainty sip and said "And honestly? Killing just for the sake of it? Because you're so wasteful and sloppy you don't care? Has never sat well with me."

"I don't know what that has to do with the sun, why it doesn't touch me any more. I don't know why it took a thousand years for that switch to occur. I don't know why I'm still walking the earth. I'm still hungry. I'm always hungry. The hunger will never go away. And Willow?"

"Yeah?"

"I am not a 'good' person, let's get that clear. I didn't earn sun privileges because I did some Twilight ass shit."

"But?"

Lucy Ann sighed and for a second Willow could see the millennia in her eyes, the weight of it on her bones.

"I am not my hunger. My hunger does not control me, I control it. And because of that, I am still here while every single one of my peers eventually fades away. Do you understand?"

Willow smiled.

"Yeah. I think I do."

----

The hunger never went away.

Her mouth would still water occasionally when she went cult bashing.

But Willow never fed another child the apple.

And even Hungers with a capital H would go to sleep, if you ignored them long enough.

(Now the birds of the air make nests on me)

[akirakirxaa]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 20: Hamper

Rating: T

Word Count: 973

Warnings: Displays of affection

Summary: Persephone goes to confront Hades about any feelings he may or may not harbor for her. [Hythazemet, Vampire AU, continuation of Prompt 17.]

Master Post

He wasn't in the library.

Persephone wandered further down the hall in search of Hades, self doubt and anxiety threatening to hamper her progress with every step. She had a pretty good idea of where he might be if not in the library, and had set her course to his office that she'd stumbled upon during her first day at the house, but that she'd avoided ever since.

(The fact that she had initially walked in on them in the library, where she was known to frequent, when they had a perfectly good room they knew she wouldn't go exploring without reason suddenly made a lot more sense now that she knew Hythlodaeus had wanted her to catch them. Had hoped it would break the unseen tension between the three of them.)

The door to the office was closed and, not wanting to barge in without invitation, she hesitated just a moment before knocking firmly. She made sure it was loud, if only to not give him or herself the excuse of not hearing it to avoid the conversation. Because Hythlodaeus was right. She wouldn't be able to move forward without talking to Hades and finding out where he stood on this. It was one thing for Hythodaeus to suggest their all three being a…not a couple. A trio? That didn't work. What was that word other people used for it? A throuple? In any case, it was one thing for him to suggest it, but without proof that it was what Hades wanted, she would never be comfortable with it.

A muffled "enter" came from the other side of the door, and Persephone let herself in. Hades sat behind his desk, hair looking more a mess than usual, looking as if he'd been hunched over some kind of work, even though there wasn't so much as a paper in sight. She stood in front of his desk, fingers twining and clenching around each other nervously. They both stared in awkward silence before they both tried to talk at once.

"I'm sorry that we made you uncomfortable."

"Do you love me?"

They blinked at each other, and another long stretch of silence sat between them before Persephone decided to go first.

"I… For a while, I've been having…feelings. For you. For him. For both, I don't know. I didn't really know if that was an option, but I couldn't stop imagining… Ahem. Anyway. I thought that since you and Hythlodaeus clearly are together, that… Well, that I was barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. Hythlodaeus insists I'm not. But I don't want to ruin what you two have, so…" She took a deep breath, though she couldn't look him in the eye as she asked, "Do you… Are you just humoring him, or do you…care about me?"

He was quiet for a moment, glancing over her face with those golden eyes of his, and she almost told him to never mind and left. But she held her ground, waiting.

"I think," he started, carefully. "That I may have been developing feelings for you for a while now. I… Hythlodaeus knew, but I didn't want to pressure you, not after everything that's happened. You deserve to choose your own life. But Hythlodaeus insisted that if I didn't say anything that you wouldn't even know that was a choice to be had…"

"So you… How long?" She asked because she needed to know he wasn't just saying it. That he wasn't just trying to make her and Hythlodaeus happy at this cost of his own happiness. And maybe just a little bit out of curiosity.

"Before you changed, I found you asleep on the porch with Hythlodaeus. He said you wanted to watch the sunset. When I knelt to check your fever, you leaned into my touch. I…it was too easy to imagine it was because you wanted me. And when…" He hesitated, a nervous glance at her telling her that he was just as scared she would shoot him down, tell him he was foolish. "When you said you were afraid and asked me to stay. Just before the change…finished."

"I was hardly at my best," Persephone tried to play it off, face burning as she remembered what a mess she'd been when she woke up to her new life.

"I know that. But you trusted me." He reached his hand toward her in invitation. She stepped around the desk, and he took her hand. "And those feelings have only gotten stronger, I'll have you know. I had no idea what a brilliant, enthusiastic, resilient creature I was bringing home the night we found you." Persephone could hardly believe the words coming from the normally grumpy vampire.

“You…you really mean that?”

“Yes, were you not liste-mph!” She threw herself at him in a delighted kiss, no longer held back by her doubts and worries that she was ruining something she had no right to even be a part of. After a moment of surprise, Hades pulled her closer, one hand burying itself in her auburn hair, nipping at her bottom lip with his sharp teeth. After a moment, they broke apart, faces still inches from each other. Persephone buried her face in the crook of his neck, arms still locked around him.

“I was so scared of making a fool of myself,” she mumbled, the words muffled against his skin.

“Ridiculous,” he huffed, tone irritated but hand stroking her back soothingly.

“Didn’t I tell you so?” the amused voice of Hythlodaeus came from the doorway.

“Yes, yes, take your win and go, you insufferable fool,” Hades growled at him, his grip on Persephone turning slightly possessive. Hythlodaeus laughed before turning to go.

“I expect you both at dinner, so try not to get too carried away?”

[blissfulalchemist]

OCs as Siken Poems

Tagged awhile ago by @statichvm to take this little uquiz for some ocs. Apologies for the time it took as your girl only took screenshots and not copying text directly 🙃 Anyway sending a few tags out to @belorage @florbelles @heroofpenamstan @unholymilf @confidentandgood @jackiesarch @strafethesesinners @themarcspector @indorilnerevarine @adelaidedrubman and anyone else that wants to do it! Formatted so the line from the poem that fits them is first before the result description.

Hayat Kahdemi (The Wayhaven Chronichles)

The Torn Up Road

There, on the ground, slipping through the minutes,/trying to notch them. Like taking the same picture over and over, the spaces in between sealed up/Knocked hard enough to make the record skip/and change its music, setting the melody on its/forward course again, circling and circling the center hole in the flat black disk./And words, little words,/words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing/but soothing nonetheless.

“I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.” poem about having a hard time, the kind of hard time where you don’t want anybody to see you like this, but somebody is seeing you like this. and somebody is doing everything they can to help you but you are reckless and they are young and you both are just trying to get through it one day at a time.

Stasia (VA/Bloodlines, FFXIV)

Saying Your Names

His voice on tape, his name on the envelope, the soft sound of a body falling off a bridge behind you, the body hardly even makes a sound. The waters of the dead, a clear road, every lover in the form of stars, the road blocked. All night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. 

“I came to tell you we’ll swim in the water / we’ll swim like something sparkling underneath the waves.” this is the poem I send excerpts of to the people I love. when I read this poem is makes me cry because it reminds me of the beautiful things in the world and also the beautiful things of love.

Anthea (FFXIV)

Straw House Straw Dog

Four dreams in a row, four dreams in a row, four dreams in a row,/fall down right there. I wanted to fall down right there but I knew/you wouldn’t catch me/because you're dead. I swallowed crushed ice/pretending it was glass and you're dead. Ashes to ashes./You wanted to be cremated so we cremated you and you wanted an adventure/so I ran and I knew you wouldn’t catch me./You are a fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening/at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

“I don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back.” this is a poem about grief, a poem about loss. poem that makes you think about how people leave you but you still have everything you’ve ever known about them and you don’t know what to do about that.

Siberite Akagane (FFXIV)

I Had a Dream About You

In these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued/Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me. The sandwich cut in half on the plate. I woke up and ate ice cream in the dark, hunched over on the wooden chair in the kitchen, listening to the rain. I borrowed your shoes and didn’t put them away.

surrealist dream piece but in a very homoerotic and fluorescent lit way. reminds me of going to waffle house at three am with my friends, or late night road trips. about the idealization of the good wild moments you have with people you love but also about the harshness of living outside of those moments. also kind of about crime, which I think is sexy.

[ch-amomiletea]

in honour of mother’s day i’m going to share some words i wrote through the night on january 18th 2023

it’s 5:30 am

i’m waiting for my baby to wake up so he can help relieve the discomfort of having two full boobs and i’ve already pumped once tonight! he’s only four months old. four months that feels like years and four months that feels all the feels of ‘we’re leaving the hospital already? right now? are you sure?’

my younger self used to want a baby all the time. it was something i knew i was 100% of and i made sure my partner of the time knew that. i was 20, i was 22.. i was wrong. those relationships could never have handled the weight of a child, those versions of me were not ready in the slightest. i went through a major change at 23 years old, a life altering change that completely rerouted my course ahead. it felt like i started going through the process of reconstructing myself and i had to start at the beginning. it took two years and by 25 i felt fresh air in my lungs for the first time in a long time. i felt a sense of purpose and connection with my true self, the self i wanted to grow and be closer to. my life was starting to feel truly like a basket of blessings made just for me. and honestly it was! i put in the work emotionally to heal wounds, to rethink previous thoughts in new light, to revisit memories and go over them with insight and clarity. in doing so i was able to clear out the junk in the way of my life’s offerings. things started to feel ‘lucky’ you could say, but i knew deep down it was because i was deserving. i got to a place where i was able to make a five year plan with actual attainable goals and that felt really great. on that list sure enough was ‘have a baby or start having one by 30’. at this point i wasn’t trying to have a baby, i was very comfortable leaving that part of life to future me and i knew i still wanted to be a mom someday. i felt comfortable in waiting until i was 30 to start because i thought i would have x y and z ready by then. i’ve realized now you might have x and y, but z never comes. you’re never ready for the shift it brings. i was 26 years old when i became pregnant for the first time. i can’t remember how many pregnancy tests i’ve peed on in my life just because my friend did it too, or i missed my period (which was never accurate anyway due to pcos) or because i was just full of hope that maybe, it would be positive. with a sea full of negative results i wasn’t expecting any different in the middle of the night that july. i was rushed with a feeling of so much excitement that it felt blurry. there’s no way, two lines? am i sure two lines means positive? i double checked the package and everything. it’s a fever dream. chad and i were so happy. we felt whole. we felt more love around us somehow. it was so exciting knowing we created life together and we going to grow our family. a fever dream.. lasting two weeks and three days. i can remember talking to my brothers girlfriend at the time, one of the only people that knew, asking her questions about what i should expect. how do i know if everything is okay? is it normal to feel the way i do? she reassured me it was but that it’s different for everyone. she only had her experience to offer as all women do, and it’s never the same. the feeling of excitement faded as fast as it came. all the anxiety and worry set in. what do i do? what can’t i do? is it safe to eat sesame oil? what vitamins should i take? google on google on google. an awful thing to do i don’t recommend. none of it mattered though because a deep feeling of concern was set in my core that something was wrong. everyone was trying to be supportive saying that i should wait until my next appointment, it’s normal to have a little bleeding, try to be positive. typical responses but all i knew was that i didn’t feel positive and i wanted someone, anyone to validate that yes things could be fine, but to me, i knew it wasn’t. i finally decided to go to emergency outpatients after passing a really large blood clot and while i was there, waiting to have confirmed what i knew to be a miscarriage, the real bleeding started. it was nothing like what i expected one to be. it was comparable to a period, just a very heavy, very crampy period. i was still waiting for the doctors words to make it real. i was there for two days total by the end of it all.

after hours of waiting, i was told my pregnancy was over, i indeed had a miscarriage. the doctor came in said his piece and left all within five minutes. i wasn’t ready for the open space that was left when i went home that day. it feels like a daze. i wasn’t able to process what really happened. one minute, my dream had come true. i felt more like myself than ever, i felt beautiful. i felt radiant, closer with my partner, excited of what was to come. to feeling numb, confused and lost. cuddled up in sweatpants and a dark hoodie over my head i felt lifeless. why would this happen? how could a dream come true end so abruptly? me, a spiritual being, tried to go over what i missed. what lesson didn’t i go through, am i being punished? i wasn’t able to convince myself at the time it was for a higher purpose. i felt angry in my faith and angry with myself that i was silly enough to believe i deserved a baby, that i deserved to be happy. all the work i had put into myself in the last few years seemed to not matter in the slightest. the darkness i had contained was leaking. it was creeping into my veins, my every thoughts. like simon and garfunkels hello darkness my old friend, i let it in with open arms. i wallowed. chad and i went from feeling high to an uncomfortable silence. a piece missing between us. for different reasons we felt as if we failed before we started. everyone else’s lives remained the same and somehow ours felt tainted. one thing we did know following is that we wanted to feel that joy again. we wanted to have a baby and this time we were going to try.

the only good thing that came from going to outpatients that night was having my blood work done. during that time the doctor on call was able to notice my blood type was a negative. the third most rare in canada. with this blood type my body only accepts a few others. this meaning depending on the blood type of my growing a fetus, if it isn’t the right one, my body thinks it’s infectious and needs to be eliminated. so i start creating antibodies to get rid of whatever is foreign inside. he told me this is most likely what happened in my situation. i was given a needle there called Rhogam. it’s a blood culture injection for the next time i was to get pregnant, it tells my body that i am safe and it is able to recognize a fetus growing safely. i held on to this information as my hope that next time will be different! a small light in my tunnel. and so chad and i started to ‘try’ to get pregnant. it turns out the anxiety was just as bad. writing down cycles, tracking ovulation, is that discharge good or bad? oh we didn’t have sex yet, let’s schedule it for this time. so much mental consumption it’s exhausting. during this time, everyone was being forced into taking the covid vaccine. i work at a private school and for me, it wasn’t an option to go without, so against what i truly wanted, i had my first shot. i had heard some stories about woman having messed up cycles after receiving their vaccines but so much misinformation was spread i filed it in with everything else covid related. time went on and we continued to try. then i miss my period. overly excited for a positive pregnancy test i get chad to pick one up on the way home and i take it right away. it was an electronic test and it was positive. wow that was fast! i don’t feel any different. my boobs don’t hurt this time, i feel literally nothing. but it’s all happening again! i see a positive sign on a small plastic stick. within two days after the test i’m bleeding and my world shuts down again. all i could think is why me? how on earth is this possible? all that work for this, again. was it the vaccine? what am i doing wrong? i made a doctors appointment and when i showed up i said i’m having another miscarriage. he got me to pee in a cup, tested it and told me without emotion i wasn’t pregnant to start with and asked if there was anything else he could help me with. i felt stunned. wow. no second miscarriage. i walked in there the most depressed i had felt in years and left 10 pounds lighter. something about that experience instantly changed my entire view.

something just clicked inside of me. all the worrying, overthinking, questioning, it was all useless. i have zero control of this. and for the first time in months, my faith was with me hand in hand. “what’s meant for me will not be missed” became my mantra. i said it everyday. when we are truly ready for change it is given. it isn’t what we expect, it isn’t pretty or fun at times but it is crafted for exactly what we need. i apologized to myself for giving up. i apologized to my spirit guides for thinking i was ever steered in the wrong direction. chad and i decided to stop trying and i felt for the first time in a while, able to go on with life again baby free. i didn’t know quite what that looked like though. for months i had gone through major change, felt so empty. who was i now? things between chad and i became distant. we both knew we weren’t trying anymore and were okay with that, but it didn’t erase what had happened. we were both on our own now battling a sadness we had never felt before. where do we go now? i will admit things got tough. by december we weren’t doing so well. i remember feeling like maybe we were ending our course together. if we weren’t meant to have kids and can’t get through this, what can we get through?

chad is truly a blessing. the way we interact has always been open and flowing. that didn’t change throughout this hard time and we were able to fully communicate what we could put together as valid emotions and thoughts. we were on the rocks, trying to figure out what in the hell life’s next move was. now it’s christmas. we have to put brave faces on for our families. we decided we can deal with this when the holidays are over. we were at my mothers for another round of christmas dinner and i felt so awful. i had acne in places i wasn’t used to, feeling so full and nauseous. i couldn’t eat another christmas bite. on top of feeling absolutely exhausted, i was convinced i had appendicitis and that it was going to rupture ruining everyone’s holiday. then out of the blue my mom says to me sarcastically ‘maybe you’re pregnant’. words i truly hadn’t considered. words i hadn’t thought of in a long time. there’s no way i thought. chad and i weren’t doing the best, we weren’t having nearly as much sex as normal. though once she said it, the gut feeling came back. this time, it felt full of truth. we return to our one bedroom city apartment, not sure what to do with ourselves, and i decide to take a test in the middle of the night. positive. i took two this time and neither were electronic. positive both times. i didn’t feel excited, i didn’t feel happy. i felt shocked. i felt like here we go again and i crawled back into bed and said to chad, “so i am pregnant” and i’ll never forget his low muffled, saddened one word reply of “yeah….” and we both went back to sleep. the following morning was quiet and soft. where do we go from here? what does this mean for us now? months of ups and downs about pregnancy, thoughts of the future and our relationship, all the questions seemed to come to a head. we took it as a sign that it’s not over for us, clearly. now i’m not advocating for getting pregnant to try and save relationships, that isn’t what happened in our case- as i believe, our child chose us. we were shown that we can handle dark times, we stayed open, honest and true to each other. we remained supportive even though the conversations were hard to have. we kept each other close and life gifted us our greatest treasure. from there we decided to embark on the journey of pregnancy together.

i had my first ultrasound at 7 weeks, it was an amazing experience but yet i still felt far from being pregnant. i was waiting for confirmation from something, anything. i needed to know i was progressing. we waited until 12 weeks to tell anyone. i didn’t want to raise hopes if this wasn’t going to go well. they say if you make it out of your first trimester, your chances of having a miscarriage go down, but for me having had one already, my chances remained higher than the rest regardless. i kept looking for signs that it was happening again instead of enjoying the changes that were happening to me. of all the time wanting and waiting for a baby, i wasn’t prepared for what pregnancy really felt like at all.

the first few months i felt so far from myself. i was just dealing with a life crisis, my relationship with chad, my identity and now my hormones are at an all time high. i felt gross and confused. i was distant from everything that felt normal to me. i was able to come out of my funk in the second trimester and i learned this is normal for most women. the second trimester is a beautiful time. your belly is round, you feel more confident in yourself, everyone is giving you compliments, you’re so excited to meet the small human you’re creating inside. you really start to feel connected to being a woman. you understand all the cliches, the movies, the sayings about being pregnant and how amazing it feels that you are able to grow a human being from seed. a body, a home that soon a beautiful soul will inhabit and walk the earth along side you. then the third trimester hits and you’re unable to see your vagina, sore every night, getting out of a car is a task, and you find yourself wearing the same two outfits because nothing fits. the compliments have stopped and now it’s “get your sleep while you can” , “are you sure there’s not two in there?” and my personal favorite as i was pregnant through the summer, “you must find it so hot”. it’s overwhelming, annoying and you’re ready for it to be over.

i went over in my pregnancy by 11 long, awaited days. my birth plan didn’t go as planned, like most. though i wouldn’t change a thing and am super grateful for how it all played out. finally after years of wanting a baby, one miscarriage and a lot of highs and lows, i got to meet my baby boy, obsidian. my very first thought when seeing him was “his arms are so chubby” and my second quickly after “oh my god he has hair”. it’s a wild phenomenon to go from months of wondering, what will he look like? what have we created? to seeing a face that somehow you feel like you’ve always known. i look at him and feel as though i’ve known him my whole life like there hasn’t been a day i’ve lived that his face hasn’t been known to me. it’s overwhelming. this type of love is smothering and it hurts. it touches parts of me i didn’t know i had. i only showered once a week in the first month he was born and i cried in every shower. i cried because i had a baby, i cried because i felt so heavy inside, i cried because i already longed the life i used to have, i cried because i had no idea what to do or where i was going next. i will never forget the moment i touched my stomach for the first time after birth. i was a ginormous pregnant lady. my belly looked as though it could have been an attachment piece. i swore i would never miss it. and then it hit me. the instant i touched myself and expected to feel comfort, to feel something round and full of life and energy, felt completely empty. i felt hollow. there was no signal being given back through my hand, just nothingness. the tears swelled in my eyes, i was shocked to feel so sad. there i was with my beautiful, healthy baby boy laying across the room from me, yet i felt so alone. there are so many moments you aren’t prepared to feel. it’s astonishingly magical. so here i am, writing this and feeling all sorts of ways. thinking that having a baby is like crossing a bridge except the bridge never ends. you don’t someday get to the other side, you just keep going. the wind is strong, it can be hard to breathe but you keep going. you can’t see the end but you keep going. the water below can be calm and some days it’s raging full of power but you keep going. i’ve had many what if moments, but i know now, i was meant to be obsidians momma. this version of me today, this stage of life i’m in now. it all makes sense. i don’t believe that i had a miscarriage and then became pregnant again with a different baby. i believe it was him all along. he was ready to join us but only he knew at the time my body wasn’t ready and i had to start with that first. without my first pregnancy i would not have known about my blood type and i would have repeated the same cycle. one thing is true and that is the timing is always right, never question that. question what you’re doing instead and if it serves your highest purpose.

i love being a mother and i love my son even more. seeing him smile feels like im experiencing pure bliss. i never want it to end. i will hold his hand for as long as i can. motherhood is unbelievable. life is full of magic, believe that. thank you for listening. sending out positive vibes to all

goodnight

[darthmaclunkey]

the adventures of kyle the monk and his posse of mean girls, or: how I unintentionally ended up casually roleplaying as a post-TRoS ben solo in baldur's gate 3. cringe under the cut:

a couple of months ago I'd had a really long day at the long day factory, and was alone in my flat on a friday night, four beers in, and decided to start another bg3 playthrough (after swearing I'd never touch it again, given that it consumed literal days of my life in march/april this year). I wanted to try a monk build, and because I'm cringe and was, as mentioned, four beers deep, I decided I'd make my tav and dream guardian look as close to kylo and rey as I could. unfortunately, because everyone in bg3 looks insanely cunty all the time, the resemblance isn't quite there, and I didn't actually plan to make my tav be like kylo ren, I just wanted to punch stuff and romance lae'zel. I named tav kyle, because that felt like an appropriate name for a dude who punches.

but after a few hours, I realised that the combo of the monk class and psychic powers from the tadpole actually was making kyle quite jedi-like. I'd chosen the soldier background, so kyle also had intimidation proficiency. hey, kylo ren seems like someone who always took intimidation skill checks! kyle was also playing the game a little dirtier than my last tav, mostly because I was trying not to savescum or reroll too often, so kyle was causing quite a bit of unintentional damage when he was trying to do the right thing. that sounds a bit like ben solo pre-fall to the dark side. so then I thought...actually, why not, let's do a little bit of roleplaying. kyle actually is ben solo, who passed out on exegol and woke up on the nautiloid, convinced that everything he's experiencing is weird force trickery, or that faerûn is just another galaxy he's been yeeted into. his life in the star war kind of sucked a bit, so he's happily along for the ride.

I imagine he's now called kyle because the conversation with lae'zel on the nautiloid went like this:

lae'zel: what is your name, istik? reincarnated-as-a-monk-kylo-ren, confused about everything: my name is kyl- lae'zel: k'chaiki! we do not have time! follow me, kyle, we must defeat the ghaik

anyway, this is how kyle's time on the road to defeat the netherbrain has gone sp far:

convinced he's just experiencing one long fever dream after passing out on exegol, he's just going along with everything life hands him

years of jedi training and his high int stat have given him both an open attitude to spirituality and the ability to speedread books he finds along the way, allowing him to educate himself on the lore of the forgotten realms as he goes. being a monk, he also has a high wisdom stat, which is tbh not really in character, but let's just call that metagaming

he's not eating any more tadpoles though. no thanks. minthara and astarion are getting all his tadpoles

after a few days his dream guardian showed up looking like rey. he was so happy to see her, and very eager to help! she must be trying to reach him through the force! he'd do anything for rey!

imagine his horror when she didn't just turn out to be a squid, but a squid called the emperor! he's had enough of emperors for one lifetime. their relationship is a bit frostier now. he might still fuck it if it turns back into rey, though.

having turned from the dark side just before biffing it on exegol, he's determined to turn his life around and start doing good deeds for people. unfortunately, he still finds the easiest route is always [INTIMIDATION] and Flurry of Blows - Topple, much like how back at home [INTIMIDATION] and Hit With Lightsaber always got him what he wanted. this means doing good deeds often means people just get dead. bless him, though, he's trying

he grew a beard and got a tattoo on his neck. when in faerûn, do as the locals do (serve and slay)

he's also been mewing. get rekt, chosen three

it wasn't long before he got laid, githyanki style (I did say this playthrough was ostensibly about romancing lae'zel) which he thought was great, given the closest he got to actual sex in his past life was a force skype hand touch

lae'zel then wanted to duel him to work out her feelings. he didn't win, but mark him down as scared AND horny!

however, after freeing the prisoners from moonrise towers, minthara joined the crew. kyle likes minthara. minthara reminds him a lot of himself. minthara has started tempting him to go back down some very dark roads. minthara suggested the two of them take orin's place as bhaal's chosen, which kyle was very amenable too. [everyone else disliked that]. it isn't his first rodeo when it comes to usurping evil masters

he's spending most of his time with his mean girl posse: shadowheart, astarion, and minthara. all the snark and pettiness feels comfortable. it's a bit like being back in the first order, except these people seem to actually like him and don't want him dead

he also got some new armour that shows off his snatched waist. slay!

he sees a lot of himself in the ragtag bunch of companions that have chosen, however unwisely, to follow him around, and through them is finally finding his chance at true redemption and getting the good ending:

he can understand what it's like to be shadowheart, brainwashed from childhood to carry out the work of a higher power, fed lies about your family, taught to worship pain and loss, and to be cut off from those who'd actually care about you. also the emo dress sense. remembering how hard rey fought for his salvation, he managed to help shadowheart turn her back on shar and free the nightsong

while he hasn't quite realised it yet, he has a lot in comparison with astarion; fearful of a powerful master who has controlled so much of their lives, wishing to seize that master's power for themselves and, in the end, become the very thing they hated and caused them so much pain. when the time comes, he'll help astarion resist the urge to complete the rite of ascension - just like rey tried so hard to stop him from seizing snoke's power. he really learned his lesson with that one

minthara's thirst for vengeance is tempting him to slip back into his old habits, but now he's reached baldur's gate and encountered orin - and minthara has confessed her feelings for him (sorry lae'zel) - he's determined not to let her fall under bhaal's influence

he likes gale, because:

but he can also empathise with gale, who flew too close to the sun and got sent on a suicide mission that he can't refuse. snoke sent him on a lot of those. he would prefer it if gale didn't explode, and is going to try and stop that happening

it's hard not to like wyll, because wyll is nice to everyone all the time, but he also feels he understands wyll's situation, trapped in a pact he can't escape. the road to hell truly is paved with good intentions! he'll do what he can to help wyll break his pact and save his father, because kyle knows what it's like when you don't get closure on your relationship with your father before one (or both) of you dies

lae'zel strong woman hit hard. kyle like. but there's also nothing more inspiring than seeing someone turn their back on their god, and ask the god for forgiveness. to be honest, lae'zel is inspiring kyle's path to redemption as much as anything else

he's not spent much time with karlach, but he's got experience of killing abusive masters. he looks forward to helping her murder gortash to death. but if gortash doesn't die, kyle thinks he would probably fit in very well in the first order

anyway, now he's cutting about baldur's gate with his mean girl posse. they took some time to stop off at the circus of last days and let off some steam:

kyle really enjoyed wasting 4000 gold on face paint. he also really enjoyed whacking dribbles the clown to death. it was a nice touch of whimsy after the horrors of the shadowfell

that's where we're at. lae'zel just got kidnapped by orin, which is a huge bummer, but kyle reckons she'll be fine fending for herself while him and the posse level up a bit. he's got dates with viconia de vir and cazador first. also a heist in hell. lots of punching to do. you know how it is

he's also wearing his pants over his trousers now which is, uh, you do you kyle. slay!

[bellevvalencia]

Sick

October 16, 2023

My left ear was ringing with pain the other night when I told God that I’d take any other pain rather than physical pain at that moment. It was nowhere near the level of pain of my leg injury from three months ago, but I had to get up in five hours, my room was cold, my brain was fried, and my body was limp from the gym. It was already a limit that I was facing everyday, so having a sudden additional burden was slightly an overkill. I wouldn’t have minded, but I was at a really tight spot that week.

I whined a little. Took the deepest breaths I could and thought back to all of my previous greater pains to invalidate it and strip it of its power. I’m nothing if not a drama queen. I just had to sleep, I repeated to myself over and over again, because then the feeling would go away.

It was very similar to when I cried myself to my parents because I had no idea where the pain in my leg was coming from or going to.

It was similar to when my retainers were fucking me up so bad I stopped wearing them in my sleep.

It was similar to when I got a bruise from jokingly egging a punch from a boy and I couldn’t react because I let it happen.

And it was similar to me saying “No, it’s okay, I’m used to body pain” when he apologized about it the morning after.

It was similar to when I ignored my conscious working brain for weeks and trusted the words of another boy who left as soon as he got me.

It was similar to when, after swearing off caffeine for two years, I started taking it again just so I could show up and pretend that everything was absolutely amazing.

There’s always some kind of premium when your tolerance to pain is high—obviously to yourself, because who the hell wouldn’t want to stay unscathed—but also to the way that people perceive you: Oh, she’ll be fine. She’s been through more and she can do better.

It’s always fine because you can fix yourself on your own, you need no apologies, and in your head you’re thinking that you probably deserved it anyway.

After how I acted and after what I said and after where I went?

After the way I felt?

I probably deserved that.

When my ear hurt, I knew that I would feel a lot better the next day, but it was very hard to believe. At that level, I doubted that I could ever forget the pain. I called a doctor after a few hours. He gave me meds and said I should feel relief in three days.

It was too long. But whatever it is and why, I probably did it to myself. I could do three days.

I can do three more. Maybe.

When my body doesn’t align with my mind, it should be easier to accept that it was something that I did. It’s true most of the time. I got a cold because I partied too hard. I got a fever because I stayed out too late. I got a sprain because I pulled too fast. I got a chest pain because I expected too much. I got a headache because I wasn’t stopping and I wouldn’t stop, because I had to go out and do something before it all eventually breaks me. It should all be logical.

Isn’t it so fucking funny how it’s not?

Sometimes you deal with the wrong people and you go to the wrong places and you let your heart take you even though you’re aware that none of it makes sense. And sometimes you’re wrong and you’re making mistakes. And sometimes you don’t want what’s good for you. And sometimes you want what’s bad for you.

Sometimes you let your heart take the lead...and then, more often than not, you just sit back and watch it fuck you up like a little fool.

It’s always only the greatest story of all time.

I have a very low tolerance to pain. I’d like to believe so, at least, because it doesn’t really get better. My body is sore every single day. I tire it out and I have all these outlets but when it hurts, it doesn’t get any better. It just becomes the norm that has to be endured. And when the norm is endured, you grow bigger and bigger around it, until it feels smaller and smaller and it doesn’t feel different than before anymore.

But that’s the big, ideal, birds-eye-view picture. At the end of every single day, while walking home from the gym at 10 PM, for example, it only fucking sucks ass. The pain eases for a while and for a bit but in my lone idle moments, I want to either kill myself or run to a door to pound my fists and ask why. I want to shut down and numb the constant ache in my chest down, because I blame myself and I shouldn’t, but it’s the only way I can get out of it alive. It’s the only way I can forgive—knowing that I’ll find my way through eventually.

So when I was on the verge of trading my life for a sense of relief, when my ear hurt, my brain just insisted that it could be so much worse. At least that one’s always true.

[shipsarebeautiful]

OK! Part 2!

This is mostly just miscellaneous notes, but they’re notes that I could’ve used when doing Next Door so I imagine they’ll help you.

You may have noticed on the goals list for day 2 (which I showed off earlier) that some of them were to play the last song with the original members and have one song where Hajime is the solo. I’ll go over how to do those simultaneously now.

So, here I am. On the live screen. You’ll notice that I already had the team ready because I knew about these kinds of goals this time around and made them beforehand. However, for you to set up your own team of Ra*bits members (or whoever else is required for the song), just click on the flashing bar of their headshots in the top right of the screen as indicated in the first image. You may still need to fill in support cards, or decide to change them, but the goal won’t be counted for unless everyone in the live line-up is in the right spot so make sure to double check as to not waste BP.

For the solo part, just click on the button that says “solo” and then select the member that you (or the goal) want. It sounds very simple, but believe me it took me a WHILE to figure that out. I remember that, while going through Next Door, I would have to plan which of the first three songs I would bring the indicated solo character in as the center for because I thought that only the center character could have the solo. This being impossible to pull off simultaneously with having all the OG members in the right spots in most cases.

But anyway-

When you clear all 4 songs in a day for the first time, you will get a screen like this showing you cleared the stage and can move on. If there’s any available mini-talks to do, they will show up after this screen as normal. This bit seems self-explanatory but again I’m trying to cover EVERYTHING here.

When you finish a day entirely, you will be taken back to the roadmap to go to the next day and it will continue from there.

Now, about the stars. I’ve mentioned them previously but not their purpose, and simply put their purpose is to serve as a form of progress indication.

They are also needed in order to get the free cards. As seen above, you need at least 10 stars to play day 10 (which, upon clearing, will get you the associated work outfits), at least 30 stars to play day 20 (which, upon clearing, will get you the chosen free 4 star), and at least 77 stars to play day 29 (which, upon clearing, gives you access to the final day where the 5 star is available). There’s nothing really to expand on there, it’s just worth pointing out in advance so it’s not a surprise later on.

Random notes! I may add to this later if I think of more:

Later down the line there will be goals to get x amount of full combos or perfect combos throughout the day. Try your best on the full combos, stick the the method I mentioned earlier, and ignore the perfect one if you aren’t skilled enough to get them naturally. Even if you don’t get a single star from the perfect combo goals, you’ll have enough to get the 5 star so long as you make up for it elsewhere.

Your scores on the days where you quit before completing it won’t be saved, however, if there’s a goal that requires x amount of points, those points will be counted towards the goal. This means if you don’t get all the points needed for the goal in one go, you can go back later and add to your total.

Earlier I mentioned that, unless there’s a goal correlating to the fever bar being a certain percentage full, you can ignore it. While this is still true, it’s worth noting that it will give you a point bonus on the last song of a day based on how full the bar is so you wanna do as well as possible for the first three songs. This is also why I personally recommend that, if you go back over a day later on, you shouldn’t quit it if you finish the third song. Just finish the whole day at that point as it will be more worth it than quitting early and moving on.

When playing on JP, you may notice a few goals that say “get a score ending in number x”. These goals are very difficult to get as there are very little ways to manipulate the exact score you get when playing a song. Because of that, I recommend that you just ignore those goals and play as normal, chances are you’ll still pick up a few of them on the way regardless

These days, memorial coins are also an option for your day 20 and 30 freebies. The way to get them is the exact same as outlined before, you just select those instead of one of the cards. In my opinion, it is ALWAYS better to choose the coins for day 20 as you will eventually get the 4 stars through point bonuses anyway, however there is nothing stopping you from picking up an extra 4 star copy over the coins if you want to.

And that’s about all I can think of! I hope I explained this all well enough, I saw you say it made more sense after part 1 and for that I’m glad. Good luck on getting your Ibara!

I'm so confused by the current enstars event but uh. Ibara women moment ig

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Prompt: Harry being sick and feeling like a failure for having to miss out on things and not being able to help and Sirius helping him understand he’s worth taking care of himself

ask and you shall receive, kind-friend <3. thank you for the prompt.

(takes place in some post-POA raising harry, voldemort isn't...lurking universe, whatever, yall are just here for dad-content, make up your own reasons why this is feasible.)

--

Sirius had gotten to Hogwarts early that day, despite having been up late the night before, knowing he had a legal exam on Monday and knowing full-well he would be spending Saturday supporting Harry at a Quidditch game. He hadn't missed a single one since Harry's fourth year, since having gotten custody and wasn't going to start now just because Sirius now had more on his plate than he ever anticipated when his name was first cleared almost three years ago. Dressed in a Gryffindor sweater, hair tied up with a golden scarf, Sirius waited with Remus by the Quidditch Pitch player entrance to wish Harry luck before the game, Remus's hand lazily intertwined in his.

"Hello, Professor Lupin, great day for a match isn't it!" greeted a student cheerfully as they walked into the tents with a wave.

"Someones popular..." Sirius whispered.

"It's polite."

"I dunno, they didn't say 'hi' to me," Sirius shrugged with a grin, "How many Best Teacher mugs did you get during the holidays again?" Remus shook his head, kissing Sirius on the temple as means of answer. It hadn't taken Sirius long to put together how beloved Remus was at Hogwarts and how many students--whether they knew it or not-- had tiny crushes on their Defense professor. Who was kind and cared and was more competent than any of the others they had had before (not that the bar was particularly high, but Sirius knew Remus was far beyond competent). Sirius checked the watch on his wrist, "Where is Harry? The match starts soon, and I'm not going to give him a lecture on being a proper Team Captain, but this isn't very professional of him."

"Kids are late, it happens..." though Remus's eyebrows were knitted together with mild concern. Usually, Harry was one of the first into the tents.

"He was at breakfast, wasn't he?"

"I thought so, but I wasn't there long though and maybe just assumed he--"

"You made it," came Harry's voice, though it was quieter and much less enthusiastic than it usually was on game day. Almost hoarse, words scratching against his vocal cords. As Harry got closer to the tents, Sirius could make out the light sheen of sweat on his forehead and the circles under his eyes. Rumpled robes, shoulders hunched over as if his body had given up trying to keep them up straight.

"Yeah...I did," Sirius said slowly, continuing to examine his godson, "You okay, babe?"

"'M great, just a bit tired," Harry nodded, swallowing after he spoke, "I'm glad you could come, I know you're," Harry cleared his throat, "busy."

Sirius instinctively took one of his hands and pressed the back of it to Harry's forehead, though it was mostly for show. Sirius could already feel the heat radiating from his godson's body before making contact with skin. He took his other hand and put it on the side of Harry's neck, "Nevermind being busy," Sirius ducked his head down to catch Harry's eyes, "Are you feeling okay?"

One more time.

"M..okay, just tired and my back hurts a little, but I was at practice yesterday and probably just bent the wrong--"

"Harry James..."

"Okay, my throat kind of hurts, but it's not a big deal, I just need to drink more water--you're always telling me to do that--and I'll go straight to bed after the game, I promise," Harry said in a feeble attempt at a whine, seemingly not having enough energy to work up a proper protest but trying anyway.

Sirius dropped his hand and shook his head, "Love, you're sick. You're not playing. I can feel a fever on you without even running a spell, you--"

"No! I have to play, Sirius!"

"Not like this, I'm going to go talk to Madame Hooch, and you--"

"They're counting on me, please, just let me play, I'm going to let everyone down and we'll lose the match, and it'll be my fault," he pleased, grabbing a hold of Sirius's wrist before he could turn to leave to find Madame Hooch. "I've played sick before! And I played during a dementor attack and, and I could've played with a broken arm, just don't say anything, I'm fine, it's just a cold!"

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, pushing aside all the malicious thoughts running through his mind he so desperately wanted to rush off and say to Dumbledore, and every other adult in Harry's life that had failed him. Promises to keep him safe made in vain, cast aside the second Harry had something he just needed to do. Sirius nodded, reaching up once more to cup the side of Harry's face tenderly.

"Please, I can do it. I...don't want anyone to be mad at me."

"I know," Sirius told him.

"It's just a cold," he responded weakly.

"It's just a cold."

Sirius felt the weight of Harry's cheek sink into his palm, breathing slowing down and eyelids drooping. For once, forgetting what it was like to have to be awake and alert and ready. At this moment, Harry wasn't Quidditch Captain. Wasn't The Boy Who Lived. Was barely a student as far as Sirius was concerned. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy, with a cold who desperately needed someone to tell him the world would not fall apart if he stayed in bed.

"I'll let Madame Hooch know," Remus mumbled softy.

--

Harry woke up several hours later in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place with only vague recollections of how he got there. The past 24hours since he had started feeling run-down and ill had been a blur, passing in a restless sleep and trying to choke down enough breakfast to make it through a Quidditch game. He didn't remember leaving the pitch or flooing to Number 12. Or being put into bed, or changing (did he change? was he changed) into sweats. But he did remember Sirius's hand on his face.

He remembered Sirius, who knew immediately when Harry had forced on a smile and spoken less than a complete sentence to him that something was wrong. It was still new, this having a Godfather thing. This clumsy accountability thing and the voice in the back of Harry's mind thing when he was staying up too late or not eating vegetables with his dinner or even that morning when he had to fight to swallow, that sounded a lot like Sirius.

I know it's exciting to be at school with your friends, but you need a good nights sleep, Harry.

Throw some carrots on there, would you? Your eyes need all the help they can get, or you'll need three pairs of lenses.

It's just a cold.

He moved under the mound of blankets, attempting to sit up.

"Easy, babe," Sirius said from beside him in bed, Harry putting together that the weight wasn't from the blankets at all. The warmth wasn't entirely from the soft knit of his sweatshirt and the nice sheets Sirius had put on his bed, but also from a body.

"What'sgoingon," Harry mumbled.

"We're at Number 12...you've been asleep for quite sometime," Sirius informed him slowly, and Harry felt his hand run through his hair. Until Sirius, Harry didn't know a simple gesture could be so comforting, convinced Sirius had magic in his finger tips that made everything okay. Like the muggle tale where the King turned everything into gold--Sirius could do the same but quiet fears and anxieties and turn them into faint whispers. Fade them into nothingness.

Harry shifted so he could look at Sirius a little better, noticing his Godfather had also changed out of his Quidditch Fan attire and into something resembling pajamas, "What time is it?"

"Half three. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Harry admitted, "...Better."

"I gave you some Pepper-up Potion, Pain Potion too, just in case," Sirius smiled softly. That Harry could see. Harry didn't know someone could smile with care until he had met Sirius. Until the first time, Sirius had shown him a bedroom that was entirely his and let him change the color of the duvet. "Still want to play a game of Quidditch?"

"Not a chance." The entire concept at this moment felt entirely stupid. Harry could barely walk this morning and had every intention of getting on a broom, but now it was the furthest thing he wanted. It was comfortable here. Safe.

"Your Dad was the same way. He broke his collarbone once and refused to go to the Hospital Wing... I forced him there too. Very experienced with getting Potter's to take care of themselves."

Harry shuffled down against the pillows, hesitating before leaning to rest his head on Sirius's arm.

"You...just sat here?"

"Where else would you have me be, my love?" Sirius pressed a kiss on top of Harry's head quickly.

"Dunno..."

Harry closed his eyes again and exhaled deeply, thoughts of his Dad and Sirius at Hogwarts. Thinking there was probably some point Sirius had told his Dad to stay in bed as well. Thinking that perhaps it was Potter genetics, that they needed a Sirius to take care of them. Nothing more, nothing less.

[jade-parcels]

The genshin men: fatherhood edition

With: Childe, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Venti, Albedo and Baizhu

—————————

Childe:

Ajax loves kids and he’ll make that known early on in your relationship

Like...This man wants five or more kids but he’ll settle for four. He dreams of a big family, getting to surround himself with you and your kids every night for family dinners, everyone getting together for big birthday parties or reunions! That’s his dream life! Plus, in Snezhnaya, most families have more than two kids anyways

He will cry so hard when his babies are placed in his arms for the first time, I mean he’s a mess. Nose is running, eyes puffy, lost of sniffling lmao he is so excited to be a dad!! Don’t you dare tell the other Harbingers how much he cried...What do you mean you took a picture when he wasn’t looking??? Hey??!?!

With his obscene amount of mora, he’ll buy a huge house that will accommodate everyone. Anything you want will be purchased that day or within 48 hours, the same goes for the kids

But they’ll all learn to be thankful for what they have. They’ll learn to fight, fish and speak multiple languages. He has high expectations but let’s face it, he’ll be proud of them no matter what

You’re gonna have to be the one to put your foot down though because Ajax doesn’t enjoy being the ‘mean parent’, he has trouble saying no to the kiddos which can create some tension between you and your husband. He has good intentions of course!! He doesn’t wanna say no to those cute, freckled faces!!

Zhongli:

Zhongli is nervous about having kids because he’s immortal. So this will go one of two ways. 1. You have the baby and the baby ends up not being immortal (or you adopt a baby who is not immortal) Then he loses you both. OR 2. You have the baby and it inherits his immortality and becomes an adeptus. Now he and the baby will have to watch you die while they both life forever.

Either way...It hurts him to think about because he loves you!! He wants to have a family with you!! He wants to give you that perfect family life every human desires!! But he’s torn

You two will just have to figure it out.

Zhongli will be a strong, male figure for your kid(s) and he will instill that traditional kindness and respect into their behavior. ‘Please’ and ���thank you’ always, always offer to help someone who needs it, do good deeds and you will feel accomplished, be the best you you can be, alway try your hardest because that’s all that matters

He will be sure that your kid(s) always feel loved ALWAYS. Zhongli will tell them stories, cook for them, take them to school, anything that needs to be done. When you’ve had a rough day, he’ll step in to take over for the night without being asked. He shows interest in everything your kid(s) like and he will do his damn best to display every piece of artwork they make or every pretty rock they find

He...will make a great dad :’)

Kaeya:

Ooooh brother, at first Kaeya says no he doesn’t want kids but...Then he starts thinking about it

He observes the happy families that walk around the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, how the kiddos smile and laugh with their parents. He’ll patrol in the afternoons, usually rounding the corner just in time to see the city’s kids leave school for the day, watching as they all run down the street to go home to their parents or play in the fountain together...Yeah, that really warms his heart

He’d want one or two kids, preferably two to avoid an only child being lonely. He isn’t on the best terms with Diluc but he can admit that they had a great childhood together, playing at the winery and running around as brothers do

Kaeya would be a very patient, understanding father. He doesn’t have much of a temper so he’d use the kids’ mistakes as learning opportunities instead of getting upset at them

He would be obsessed with the kids when they’re babies though oh man if you thought you had baby fever, he has it times ten! He loves holding the baby, watching with a twinkling eye as his baby grasps his thumb with its tiny hand... adorable

And if your kids inherited his eyes, his star shaped pupils that his ancestors passed down to him...He’s gonna get emotional

Everyone at the knights’ headquarters and the Angel’s Share will get sick of him REALLY fast cause he won’t stop bragging about how cute and smart his kids are lmao

Diluc:

Diluc would be such a soft dad don’t even get me started

He loves you so much of course he wants to have kids with you! Is that even a question?? He won’t be the one to bring it up unless he gets the feeling that you want kids but once you ask, he’ll agree so fast

He’ll be grateful to even have one kid with you :’) and he’ll be fine with however many kids YOU want. You want one kid? Perfect! You want four? No problem, the manor is big enough for ten! You...you want ten...? Time to hire some more maids then lmao

Diluc is a worry wart though, he’ll be afraid to hold the baby, feed it, bathe it, he’s terrified of hurting the baby or the baby suddenly hating him. So just help him out!! Cause when he gets comfortable with the baby, he’ll be in full dad mode

He isn’t embarrassed to walk around the manor, conducting business with a baby strapped to his chest!

Diluc is a very kind, gentle dad who will always offer helpful solutions to the kiddos’ problems. He’ll make sure all of their needs are met while also trying to avoid spoiling them... Too much... There will be a fair amount of spoiling...

His own father wasn’t too affectionate with him so that’s why he’ll be affectionate with his kids! Hugs and kisses when he tucks them in at night, big dad hugs when they get home from school, holding their hands in the busy streets of Mondstadt. His father was a great dad! He just aims to be better.

Xiao:

Like Zhongli, he worries about the mortality thing. Since he’s an Adeptus, his kid will certainly be an Adeptus too if you have kids together.

He also worries that his kid(s) will hate him. His duty is to kill demons which means that rain or shine, holidays, special occasions, day or night he’s gotta be ready to go slaughter demonic beings. So he’ll inevitably miss out on important stages in the kiddos’ lives

And admittedly... He’ll be scared of his kids lmao

They’re screaming, crying, barfing, pooping, laughing, screaming again...He can’t predict their behavior. It’s unsettling. All of that goes away one night when you sit him down and place your sleeping baby in his arms. His eyes go wide...And he just watches. This tiny, little baby...Feels no fear for him. It’s comforted by his presence. He almost cries...ALMOST

He’s still pretty much the same Xiao we all know and love but now he has a kid. “Slaying demons is what I do...Hey, go back inside and finish your dinner. Yes, even your vegetables. I don’t care that you don’t like them-...Fine. Don’t tell your mother, bring them to me. I’ll eat them” cute :)

He’s a protective dad and husband, he’d never let anyone or anything harm his beloved family

Venti:

Venti....does not want kids. He thinks they’re cute! He likes the idea of kids but he knows he wouldn’t enjoy actually having kids

You two already have so much fun together!! You don’t need a kid!! You guys have dogs!! Dogs are like kids! But they’re more independent and they’re cuter!

He’ll feel bad if you want kids and he doesn’t, he really will! But it’ll be nearly impossible to convince him cause he’s made his mind up :/

Venti’ll make it up to you somehow though, he’ll take you out more and show you all of the adventures you guys can have if there aren’t kids around

But for the sake of fatherhood headcanons, let’s pretend he gave in. Venti would be a very caring dad. He would cuddle the hell out of this kiddo and sing to them :’) the only problem is that Venti doesn’t like being tethered to one place for too long so he tends to take off and not come back for a few days... :(

Albedo:

Albedo wants kids mostly just to see what fatherhood would be like. He’s always been curious about what that part of his life would be like so why not have a kid

He’d be good with one kid, two at most cause after practically raising Klee, he knows how some kids can be and...He doesn’t have the mental capacity for more than two kids at a time lmao

He tries his best to show more emotion in his face. We all know he usually sits like this 😐 and goes ‘wow im so happy right now’. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was bored out of his mind right? So he’s gotta work on that. And when he musters up a smile for the baby and it smiles back at him????? Yeah...He’s gonna try to smile a lot more now

He definitely softens up once he becomes a dad, he shows emotion more than he used to and surprisingly, he takes time off of work. Shocker, I know! He decides that he’s been in the lab long enough and that he wants to be able to be there for these moments with you and his kid(s) :’) :’) He trusts Sucrose and Timaeus to take over for him for a couple hours

He keeps a journal for each kid and writes down the date and time they have their firsts or just interesting things they do ->

- 8/4: Baby sees and plays with a cat for the first time

- 9/5: Baby smacked me in the face and laughed so hard she threw up

-9/12: Baby learns that pulling my hair gets my attention. She now continues to do so

-10/15: Baby stays at Aunt Klee’s house for the first time

Baizhu:

Baizhu really loves kids, he works with them a lot and he considers Qiqi to be his daughter anyway but in terms of you guys having a kid together, with his condition he can probably only handle one kid running around

He will do his absolute best to be a good dad. Even if he feels like death, he’ll help change diapers, feed the baby, care for it when you need a break. He isn’t contagious so when you’re sleeping and he feels gross, he’ll sit back against the pillows with the baby on his chest, the three of you resting together (though he doesn’t fall asleep...that would be dangerous for the baby)

Baizhu already tends to nag at you about your health and lifestyle choices but now?? He’ll be a menace. He’ll be constantly evaluating your baby’s condition, checking to see if a certain food is giving them a rash or making sure their skin isn’t drying out. He’s hyper aware of your baby’s health and will be the one to treat them if they get sick

He’s a busy guy since he runs the pharmacy but he will always do his best to be present for your baby’s big milestones! And when your kid cries cause Baizhu’s medicine tastes like shit, he’ll do his best to not be disappointed in their reaction lmao

When you leave him alone with the baby, he’ll wrap a scarf around himself to tie the baby to his chest while he works and...he looks so cute :) dad baizhu <3 <3 <3 <3

Bonus points for him buying the baby toy medical equipment so he can get your kiddo interested in medicine :)

[milkyplier]

Sky was a liar. Sky was a cruel liar who had lied to him because it had been three days and he was far from the better Sky had promised.

Whatever sickness he’d gotten—it most definitely wasn’t a cold—had actually steadily worsened over the last few days, despite the about of soup Wild poured into him and all the rest the others were demanding he get. He felt like he was fighting a dragon, a really big dragon that he was miserably losing to.

He couldn’t even speak anymore; doing so send vibrations to his brain that always left him breathless and disoriented. He had to fight for every breath and a persistent ache had sewn itself into his bones, jamming knives in his joints and making every little movement agony. His fever was the cherry on top, layering ice beneath his skin and fire above it.

There wasn’t any escaping it, either. When he was awake….well, he was awake, and when he was asleep, the nightmares took over. He never remembered them when he woke up. The vague feelings of terror, grief, anger—those always stayed, always made his situation worse, but the actual happenings in the dreams disappeared when he woke up.

He’d been absorbed in his own little world for what felt like forever, incapable of escaping and thus subject to misery for the foreseeable future. But it wasn’t really the pain that bothered him as much as what it meant. He couldn’t move. And that meant that the difference between wether he lived or died was entirely in the hands of the people around him.

* * *

“How’s he doing?” Twilight asked softly, sitting down next to Sky, near Legend’s head.

“Not good,” Sky said sadly. He gestured to his left hand, clutched tightly in Legend’s own. “Fever dreams aren’t treating him well.”

Twilight nodded absently. They were silent for a minute before Sky spoke again.

“It’s pretty funny. He fights me when he’s awake and I try to take care of him, but then when he falls asleep he’s always reaching out.”

It’s not often I depend on others for help.

“A reflex.” Twilight said. “He isn’t used to counting on people for help.”

“That’s apparent. He calls out for someone…Marin, I think he says.”

I’ll never see her again…and it’s all my fault.

Sky looked at Twilight. “You know something about her?”

Twilight blinked. His expression must have given away bis thoughts. “…No. He mentioned a girl, once. But he gave no name, or explanation.”

Sky nodded. “Sounds like our Veteran.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m worried. He’s extremely weak, and he isn’t improving. He’s started to refuse to eat anything. We can’t hope he’ll recover on his own anymore.”

“You want to find a great fairy,” Twilight finished his thought.

“Yeah.” Sky sighed. “Maybe I’m just paranoid, but he’s too sick to take chances with.”

“We’ve been stuck in one place for too long, anyways. Staying much longer is risky; the Old Man will agree we need to move. I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, try to get some sleep. We’ll leave in the morning.”

Whoops. My hand slipped and here’s pt.2 :) lmk if you want a pt.3???? Idk if this one is as good as the last one so maybe I lost your interest? But I hope it was still good, and I hope it made you feel better! :D

Are you alive

somehow yeah T.T

sorry for being so inactive as of late my POTS has been kicking my ass and uh. foggy brain means incomprehensible posts and i don’t wanna subject y’all to that lmao. also i’ve just been napping constantly it’s a miracle i’m awake rn ahnskdka

[urimaginespimp]

A Half-naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas.

Bucky x Reader with fever.

Thank you @daredarling for the “you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you” idea.

——–

You should’ve known better than to race Sam under a thunderstorm last night. Waking up the next morning, you had a massive headache, your muscles felt sore, and you were shivering.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Barnes says you’re half an hour late in training.” FRIDAY’s voice spoke, making you groan and bring your comforters above you.

“Tell him to fuck off.” you muffled under the sheets.

Barnes… He has been nothing but a pain in the ass to you. To this day, you don’t know what you’ve done for him to dislike you this much. And as if his snarky comments and glares thrown your way wasn’t enough, Steve actually paired you both for missions and trainings.

If he wasn’t so handsome you would’ve cut him already. If Steve allowed you.

Loud bangs hit your door outside. “Y/L/N you’re already 30 minutes late! That’s 5 laps extra for you!” You could hear the irritation lacing his voice.

Maybe if you ignore him long enough, the pest would go away.

“I know you’re in there!” He followed up after you ignored him.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up, with the blankets still wrapped around you, and weakly waddled your way to your door, not bothering to open up your curtains. Opening the door, A frowning Bucky was looking down on you. If you weren’t feeling so shitty, you would’ve snickered at his expression.

“Barnes why are you so obsessed with me?” your cracked voice barely managed to finish asking.

He was observing you from head to toe, noting how pale you are, and shivering under a huge comforter despite that your AC was off.

“You’re stupid.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

“Well, you’re not that sma-”

“Will you shut up and go back to bed? You look like you’re about to drop dead any second now.” He interrupted you, his face still stern with no emotion.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back and weakly made your way back over to bed, pausing to groan as you remembered you forgot to close the door.

“If you’re still there, could you please close the door.” it almost pained you to even be so polite to him but you blame it to being sick.

Finally managing to lie back down, you stared up the ceiling when you heard the door finally shut gently. Sighing, you were about to let sleep take over you when something caught the corner of your eye.

Bucky was by the closed door, taking his shirt off over his head. You let out a shriek. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“You’re sick.” he replied nonchalantly, while kicking off his shoes, leaving him in his sweatpants and socks.

“And taking off your clothes is supposed to make me feel better?!” you were trying to support yourself with your elbow, facing his way. “And I meant that you close the door before leaving.”

“I don’t want to die of heat while taking care of you.” he replied in a duh tone before entering your bathroom to fetch some warm water in a basin.

You were still trying to process what he was getting at when he finally went back out, now basin with steaming water in hand.

“You got a clean towelette I can use?” has asked as he placed the basin on the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, it’s by the third dra- what the hell are you doing again?” you caught yourself as he was opening your drawers. “Because if you’re trying to kill me, doing it while I’m defenseless is just beneath you.”

“Didn’t think your IQ could get any lower but you’re sick so I’ll let this pass.” He rolled his eyes before soaking the cloth on the water. “I’m nursing you. Now lay flat and still so the cloth won’t fall off that forehead of yours.” he instructed, again sounding so casual.

You followed his orders before realizing that this whole ordeal was still very weird. “I’m sorry, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

He went by your head and placed the cloth on your forehead, making you sigh at the warmth it brought your chilling form. “Steve will have my head if he finds out I knew you’re sick and let you die.”

You stared at him deadpan.

“And partners are supposed to be taking care of each other.” he muttered, making the side of your mouth twitch.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.” he lightly threatened when he noticed your mouth twitch.

“Fair enough. And I should probably tell you that I’m prone to get mentally confused when I have fevers which is a normal symptom, but just letting you know in case I start saying something nice.” you chuckled.

He went over your mini fridge and opened a bottle of water to drink.

You look at him, noticing that he was starting to sweat a lot from the heat. His skin was glistening making you mentally kick yourself from staring.

“You got underwear?” you found yourself asking, making him choke on his drink.

“What?”

“I-I’m just saying i-if you’re that hot, you can just take off your sweatpants and I won’t mind.”

“You’re saying I’m hot?” he chuckled, having fun twisting your words, making you flush. “Hey, color’s back on your face. Maybe I should get you all flustered more.” he teased further.

“Shut up Barnes, I meant that the room’s too hot for you because the AC is off. You’re sweating like a pig.”

“Save the excuses, Y/N. You won’t mind if I’ll just be in my boxers?” he smirked at you as he took his socks off and started working on untying the strings of his sweats.

“Puh-lease, Barnes, it may come as a shock to you, but I’ve seen enough men in boxers. You’re not that…”

You trailed off what you were going to say when you noticed that this was a different kind of boxers. Why were they so tight?

You thought he meant boxer shorts, not boxer briefs. Dammit.

“I’m not that…?” He asked.

“I forgot. Fever brain.” You shrugged, diverting your eyes away from him. “Anyway, why are you so nice to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He contradicts, placing his hands on his hips.

“Uh, yeah you do.” you paused to let out a cough. “You always make fun of me or provoke me in front of everyone else.”

“And how do I treat you when we’re alone, especially in missions?” he raised his brows at you, expecting that you’ll put two and two together.

“A lot nicer actually.” You muttered.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that the team keeps insisting I have a crush on you.” he scratched the back of his head.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would they even think that?” you chuckled.

“It’s Sam’s fault. He tricked me.”

“What?”

“He was being all hypothetical, saying what if I was only allowed to date someone from the team and who would I choose. And I uh… may have said I’d choose you. And everyone else heard.” He muttered the last part, embarrassed.

It was your turn to smirk at him. “And why me?”

“Stop that. You look like a smirking corpse.” he snapped at you defensively and cleared his throat. “It’s just that you were actually really nice to me when we met. Didn’t feel like you were masking apprehensiveness like everybody did when I first got here.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on me.” you had the courage to tease him, seeing how flustered he got from telling the story.

“This is not how you treat your nurse, Y/N.”

“Yeah, a nurse in his underwear. Very ethical. And I’m not your supervisor, but I think brooding is not advisable.”

“And now as your nurse, I would advise you to quit talking and get some sleep.”  he playfully glared at you. “I’ll be by the chair to constantly check on your temperature and replace the cloth on your forehead.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing, Barnes. I’m starting to think the team’s right.”

“Ma’am flirting with patients and vice versa is frowned upon. Now sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

——–

While you were finally snoozing for over an hour, gentle knocks were heard on your door.

Standing up from his chair, Bucky quickly made his way over the door to prevent more knocks from disturbing your sleep, forgetting that he was still only in his boxer briefs.

Opening it slowly, he was met with three pairs of wide eyes belonging to Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Hey you guys, could you keep it down? Y/N is getting some rest.”

“Uhuh… I bet she needs it.” Sam replied slowly, still wide-eyed, noting how Bucky’s slightly sweaty.

“So… when did this happen?” It was Steve’s turn to speak up.

“Oh, just this morning. She was running late and I came here with the intention of punishing her for it but I ended up taking care of her.” He explained in a low voice, still oblivious to how their teammates were getting a totally different idea.

“Woah.” Nat muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, I guess her muscles are all sore because she was moving so weakly, and her voice is all hoarse now when she talks, and -”

“Look we’re happy for you, but TMI, Buck! TMI.” Steve cut him off and the three of them scrambled away from your room, with Sam muttering he didn’t need the unwelcomed visuals, and Nat screaming for Wanda.

Now left alone and confused by the doorway, he was trying to figure out why they reacted that way when it finally clicked.

“Fuck.” he whisper-yelled, knowing that the teasing was about to get worse.

——–

Final Part

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