#attempting to vomit tw

[quotemenevervore]

Hehehe I finished that rewritten section really fast

Content warnings: soft, safe g/t vore, parties are unaware it’s safe, character thinking he’d killed the other, character having bad thoughts about themselves, character attempting to throw up, mention of the prison but not what happened in it

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dream perked up at the mention of the potions, and busied himself by going and collecting a good amount of them while George moved to the living room to try and relax until he couldn’t push it off any longer.

Sure enough, the other returned quickly with a piece of string, a totem of undying, and several potions. A good amount of them were splash potions of healing and regen, and then two regular potions, one of night vision and the other of shrinking. Setting the bottles carefully on the table, he handed the totem over to the brunette before sitting down on the sofa beside him. He pulled out his communicator, sending off a quick message before shutting it off and pulling a book out. “Who did you just message?” “Told Sapnap we couldn’t hang out today. He hadn’t made plans to, but you know how he is.” Not even a moment had passed before George got a message, opening his communicator only to read from Quackity, ‘don’t have too much fun with Dream ;)’ Groaning, he quickly replied ‘we’re not doing anything, we’re investigating something important. Fuck off’

“Should have waited until he got here to say anything. Now Quackity is gonna lord this over my head forever.” “You think yours is bad? Sapnap’s been blowing my messages up, I can tell.” The brunette snorted at the reply, tilting his head to get a peek at the cover of the book. “It’s just some basic stuff. Like a tutorial book, I guess would be a good word for it. Figured it would pass the time.” “Can I read it?” “I guess. Here.” Dream moved the book and himself so the two were sitting leg to leg, setting the book down between the two of them. “Better read fast, though.”

They got through the entire book before Dream finally became impatient enough to ask. “How long has it been since-“ “It’s been about forty five minutes. I guess if we’re gonna do it now would be the time.” George began uncorking the potions, drinking the night vision first before his face scrunched up at the scent of the other. He powered through, forcing himself to drink it as Dream got the other things ready. When George had finally shrunken to the five inches he usually became, the blonde already had the string ready to tie a knot around the other’s waist. He tied it as securely as he could, watching the other’s face for any sign that he made it too tight. The brunette wouldn’t lie, seeing the amount of concern the other was putting into making sure this went okay put a warm feeling in his chest, and he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face.

At the same time, he couldn’t help the curiosity building inside him either. He’d always been stored by Sapnap, and Quackity had yet to have a chance to store him. Would being stored by someone without those instincts really be so different? He genuinely didn’t know what to expect, and it made the fluttery feeling in his stomach grow, but not out of fear. The knot was secure, the totem was in his inventory, and his communicator was in his pocket, waiting for him to start the call when he finally made it down. There was no way he could get gravely injured with all the precautions they put in place, and all that was left to do was see how this went.

“Ready?” Dream asked softly, and George didn’t hesitate before giving him a nod.

Getting eaten by three different people all the time gave Dream an advantage he hadn’t thought about before; He knew the best way to get George ready to be swallowed without causing him discomfort. He didn’t even get anywhere near the other’s teeth when he’d been gently placed into his mouth, and the movements around him were nothing short of calculated but gentle. It did not take long at all for him to be nudged back, and his nerves began to grow again. Even with the precautions they had in place, something could always go wrong. Gripping the totem of undying tightly in his hand, he used the other to pat at the tongue below him.

That was the sign Dream had been looking for, as he was then pushed the rest of the way back and tugged down with a soft swallow. Almost instantly, his friend gave a choked sound, and he froze up completely. “Dream!?” “String.” The larger rasped out, swallowing again and again to send him further down enough that his airway could clear and hopefully help the scratchy feeling the string left behind.

His hands were shaking badly due to the painful sensation, and honestly he should have expected an outcome like this. When the string was jerked out of his weak grasp to his next swallow, his mind froze in shock. He jammed his fingers into his mouth, trying to grasp the end of it before it was gone, but he was helpless to stop it as he swallowed a final time, the last of the string disappearing from his mouth.

Well… at least his throat didn’t hurt so bad now. The second his airways were clear, he was hyperventilating, scrambling to his feet to rush to the bathroom. He needed to let George out, he needed to let him out now they didn’t know if this was safe he couldn’t let anything happen to his best friend-

His throat hurt still, and he was shaking with adrenaline and fear, heart racing as he tried to make himself throw up. He would have thought feeling so sick at the thought of hurting his friend would make it a little easier for him to succeed at that goal, but all he was doing was dry heaving. Tears dripped down his face as he kept trying, unable to bear the thought of something happening.

It only occurred to him that it was a potion side effect when his abdomen was completely sore along with his throat and he still hadn’t thrown up George or the berry, only the saliva from his mouth. Collapsing against the vanity, he started full-on sobbing, arms wrapped around his stomach. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry George, it was a stupid idea you were right-“ his communicator began to ring, and he almost ignored it, he almost threw it against the wall. He didn’t want to talk to anyone after this, not after he was the reason George was going to die. Maybe Sam would lock him up in the prison, it’d be what he deserved-

He only faltered when he saw just who was calling. He answered immediately, shakily holding the com up to his ear. “Stop! Stop crying, you’re literally disorienting me, for Prime’s sake-“ “George?” His voice was raspy and weak, as if in disbelief. “I’m fine, I’ve been trying to tell you I’m fine but you couldn’t hear me! You need to calm down, Dream.” “Are you-“ “The berry’s whole. The potion shuts your system down completely, I’m safe. Just breathe, okay?” Now that the organ he was in wasn’t jumping around as often as before, he could feel his own fear beginning to subside.

~ ~ ~

When he’d been dropped into his stomach he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why Dream was freaking out, his heart beating rapidly enough to raise concern in him. It wasn’t until he felt something fall into the organ with him that he realize what had happened, finding the end of the string and holding it up to the communicator so he could identity it. “…Shit.” He whipped around, directing the light towards the other side of the stomach, searching for the berry and finding it whole with a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t in danger. Of course, he couldn’t even begin to relax at that point, as the other began trying to empty his stomach, the walls clenching and relaxing around him and throwing him around as they attempted and failed to bring him back up. “..Dream? What are you-“ the next attempt threw his balance off, and he landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor, groaning as he tried to sit up again. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his communicator, knuckles white as he tried to keep his bearings as his friend continued to try and throw him up. He needed to get the other’s attention, he needed to calm him down. “Dream! Dream, it’s okay. You gotta calm down.” He tried rubbing at the stomach walls, something he did with Sapnap knowing it made him relax, but he got no kind of positive response, only hearing his friend give up, and begin to sob, shaking the organ worse than before. With a sigh, he pulled his hand away.

“Dream? Dream! I’m okay, I’m safe!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry George-“ he can’t hear me, he realized. Quickly pulling up his contact on the com he wasted no time dialing him.

~ ~ ~

Eventually, the blonde had managed to get his breaths back to the semi-calm it had been before, wiping the last of his tears away as his shoulders slumped against the vanity. “Are.. are you sure you’re okay?” “Yea. Berry’s completely fine.” “George, how am I supposed to bring you up? The potion makes it impossible to throw up.” “I.. dunno. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The brunette tried once more to rub at the walls surrounding him, trying to ease them of their tenseness. Thankfully, it worked this time, Dream relaxing more around him. “Should I swallow another string-“ “I said we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. You’re just stressing yourself out. Go lay down.” “George-“ “Go lay down or I’m calling Sapnap.” A frustrated sigh answered him, but at least the admin listened, if the movement around him meant anything.

Once everything settled down again, he felt something press against him.

“..Guess I could tell Skeppy and Bad what the potion does.” “Make sure your voice is better first. You know how much Bad worries.” “My voice is as good as it’s gonna get.” As George scoffed at the response, his call was ended, and before he could complain about that as well, Dream spoke up, his voice echoing around him. “If something happens, tap three times. One for yes, two for no otherwise. Sound good?” He tapped the wall once before continuing to rub at it, now trying to distract instead of comfort the larger. A content sigh sounded above him, and he relaxed as he felt something- Dream’s hand, what else could it have been- rub against him from outside. Not that it was hard to relax, of course. Dream wasn’t as warm as Sapnap, not by a long shot, but the darkness and the warmth was comfortingly familiar, along with the larger’s heart beating and breathing now that it had settled. Even his voice, which had become mostly background noise as he spoke to their demon friend, was a comforting rumble to relax to. As his eyes closed, he wondered if maybe he should have let Dream know he was falling asleep.

He found he didn’t really care. He’d deal with it when he woke up.

[cuteguywhump]

Casualty - 38x30 - The Last Post

[aftgficrec]

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see… 

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here 

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

[montammil]

Forever Be Mine, part 3

Masterlist here!

CW: Yandere/creepy whumper, branding, vomiting, murder (not sawyer or rowan), degradation, failed escape, guns, drugging, noncon touching (nothing sexual but still creepy)

...

Four whole days passed by and Sawyer was miserable. Rowan hadn't untied him from the bed once during that time, except to use the restroom and shower every other day. He spent most of his time reading aloud to Sawyer, ranging from classic literature to collections of poetry, almost all about love and romance. Sometimes he'd even read him things he wrote for him, which just made it all the more disturbing.

In return, Sawyer would pretend to be interested in what he was saying.

He was careful not to give into his delusion too much out of fear of getting caught onto, or even worse, encourage him to take it further. It was already torture enough dealing with Rowan's constant cuddles and kisses.

The fifth day arrived, and Sawyer was ready for another dreadful day. He kept his neutral frown when he felt a familiar weight on the bed.

Rowan kissed his cheek. "Good morning, my love," he whispered into his ear. Sawyer's skin crawled at his words and the warm breath ghosting over him. "Sleep well?"

He nodded in response and stretched his legs out as much as they'd allow, flexing his wrists in hopes that Rowan would get the message and untie him already.

The ropes weren't getting any looser after all this time and his hands were starting to go numb. He wouldn't be surprised if he came out with nerve damage from how tight they were tied.

The taller man noticed what he was doing and frowned. "If I untie you, will you behave yourself?"

"Of course," Sawyer assured him sweetly, mustering up a small smile for emphasis.

Rowan eyed him before reaching over to untie his wrists from the bedframe above him. He rubbed his wrists with his thumbs and massaged each of Sawyer's fingers. It felt nice having the blood flowing properly through them again, but the contact made him want to recoil from his touch. He stayed still instead, letting Rowan dote on him as usual.

He remained still while Rowan untied the rest of his bindings. Once all of his limbs were free, Sawyer sat up slowly and stretched out his legs again, letting the muscles relax after being confined for so long.

Rowan watched him intently as he did so, not taking his eyes off of him for even a second.

Sawyer suppressed a shudder of disgust and smiled up at him. "Thank you," he said. 

Apparently, Rowan didn't know him as well as he thought, if he fell for that act.

Sawyer slid out of bed and stood up on unsteady legs. It was the first time he'd been out of bed in a while and he felt dizzy and disoriented.

Rowan placed a hand on his waist to steady him and helped him walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Sawyer stumbled around a bit, but Rowan kept him upright with his grip on his hip.

He sat down at the small round table and watched Rowan make breakfast for them both. They ate together in silence, though Sawyer barely touched his food. He couldn't be hungry even if he wanted to, being so inactive these past few days.

After breakfast, Rowan cleaned up and then walked Sawyer over to the couch in the living room. He sat down and patted the space beside him, motioning for him to sit next to him. Sawyer reluctantly obeyed and plopped down beside him. He immediately pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him and nuzzling his head into his neck.

"I'm so glad we're finally together," Rowan muttered into his skin. "I've dreamed of this moment for months now."

"I'm glad too," Sawyer forced himself to say. Rowan kissed along his throat and sucked gently at his pulse point.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sensation of lips against his throat. The hairs on his neck stood up at the touch and goosebumps covered his arms and legs.

He thought of himself back in his apartment, curled up on the couch watching movies with a blanket wrapped tightly around himself. Or dancing alone in the dark room with the rain pouring outside. He'd never feel that kind of comfort ever again.

Not until he escaped from Rowan's clutches. It was hard to focus on escape when Rowan kept distracting him, however.

Rowan paused his movements. "Sorry, I'm moving too fast, aren't I?"

At least he had some kind of self-aware bone in his body. "A little bit," Sawyer bleated.

He sighed and pulled away from him. "I just get so excited when I think about us finally being together forever, I can't help myself." He placed a hand on Sawyer's cheek and smiled down at him. "But we have all the time in the world, so there's no need to rush. And since you've been so good for me, I don't mind being a little extra patient." He pressed their foreheads together, "I love you."

No matter what, Sawyer couldn't force himself to say those words. So he remained silent instead. Rowan didn't seem to mind thankfully, he just kissed Sawyer's forehead and pulled him into his lap.

"Let's watch a movie together," Rowan suggested. "How does Double Indemnity sound? It's one of my favorite films, I'm sure you've seen it before."

He was right. Sawyer had watched it hundreds of times, but he liked the thrill of it. From what he knew about Rowan, he probably liked it for the twisted romance.

The movie started playing and Sawyer didn't pay attention to it at all. Instead, he focused on trying to think of ways to escape from his captor. But even after five days, nothing had come to mind yet.

The rest of the day was boring. Rowan would make him more food, then they'd lie on the couch, and sometimes he'd watch him work on his laptop, pausing every once in a while to peck the top of his head.

Sawyer was feeling pretty useless. All he could do was lay around and pretend he enjoyed the attention.

Something changed the next morning. Rowan was in the living room, on a phone call to a client. Sawyer, however, was in the kitchen, looking through the drawers for anything he could use to defend himself with, having told Rowan he was simply going to make them both tea. He didn't want to use any knives because that was too risky, and Rowan had proven to be much stronger than him.

He was about to give up when he opened the medicine cabinet to see something familiar: Flunitrazepam. He remembered hearing about it once on a news article.

The very drug Rowan had slipped into his drinks in the first place, he figured. This would work better than a knife. Rowan was an idiot from what Sawyer knew, so quickly believing in his compliance meant he wouldn't expect this at all.

Rowan was still on the phone when Sawyer returned to the living room with Earl Grey tea for both of them.

"...Alright, that sounds good. I'll start working on your policy. Talk soon," he said, proceeding to hang up. He accepted the cup and took a sip. "Mm, thank you, my dear. I hope you didn't microwave it." His tone was playful, despite his humorously skeptical look.

It became easier throughout his kidnapping to fake a smile. "It literally tastes the same either way."

"No, it doesn't," Rowan complained. "The water should always be heated over a stove. But I forgive you since you're so lovely otherwise."

Sawyer sat down next to him on the couch, with his mug in hand. His palms were clammy with sweat, and he was having trouble keeping his breathing steady.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he raised the cup to his lips and took a sip, trying to steady himself before the inevitable. He glanced over at Rowan who was sitting beside him, enjoying his drink as if nothing was wrong.

Rowan gulped down the rest of his tea, not seeming to notice anything unusual about it. Sawyer was relieved that he hadn't suspected anything yet, but it was only a matter of time before he did.

Hoping to speed up the process, Sawyer put down his tea cup and massaged Rowan's shoulder, doing his best impression of an affectionate touch.

"Mmm," Rowan sighed, "your hands feel amazing."

He continued massaging his shoulders and arms for a few minutes until he felt Rowan start to slump against him. Sawyer stood up and helped lower him to the couch. He grabbed the phone out of his pocket, groaning when it required a passcode. He tried pressing the home button against Rowan's thumb, but it did nothing, much to his disappointment. 

Sawyer searched for his keys next but found nothing on him besides his wallet. Damn it. He looked back at Rowan's sleeping figure, weighing his options carefully. He wished he could find his phone, but he had no time to waste.

Pure panic took over his mind, and he threw a chair through the window.

Shards of glass fell onto the ground beneath them as Sawyer climbed out the window. He ignored the sharp sting in his palm as he pulled himself up, feeling glass dig into his skin.

Blood dripped onto the grass below, but he paid no attention to it. His mind was on nothing but running, so that's what he did.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He had no idea where he was going or where he would end up, but that didn't matter right now.

The important thing was getting away from Rowan, putting as much distance between them as possible. Sawyer had no idea how long it'd be before Rowan woke up and realized that he had escaped. 

Running was harder than he imagined it would be, especially since he hadn't exercised much at all while trapped in that lake house. Sawyer was already winded after about fifteen minutes of sprinting through the woods and had to slow down to catch his breath.

Sawyer wasn't the most outdoorsy person, but even he knew better than to head deeper into the woods when he had no idea where he was going. So instead, he veered off to the left and began following the lake shore, hoping it would eventually lead him somewhere populated. The sun was already starting to set and the sky was beginning to grow dark. Sawyer pulled his sweater tighter around him in an attempt to stay warm.

He couldn't stop, no matter how painfully irritating the wounds in his feet felt.

...

Rowan woke up groggily, feeling nauseous and disoriented. His head throbbed painfully and he struggled to sit up, still half asleep.

His heart nearly stopped when he noticed Sawyer was no longer beside him on the couch, and even more when he realized that the window had been smashed in.

Rowan's hand instinctively went to his pocket to check for his phone, relieved to find it still there, but that didn't change much.

He scrambled to his feet, nearly falling over from the sudden wave of vertigo that hit him.

Sawyer must've drugged him and escaped somehow. He should've known that Sawyer wouldn't have accepted their love so easily, but he was so desperately hopeful that he believed his lies. And now Sawyer was out there, potentially hurt or lost.

Rowan grabbed his keys and darted out the door.

...

Sawyer finally had to stop when he couldn't run anymore due to exhaustion. His body felt like it was on fire, burning up from exertion and fear. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his breaths came in short gasps.

He was about to take a break when he noticed something in the distance.

It was a blue truck coming across a dirt path. Sawyer waved his arms and limped as quickly as he could to it. "Hey!" he shouted hoarsely. "Please help!"

The car slowed to a stop and Sawyer collapsed while trying to rush to it. A man with blond hair and glasses stepped out and knelt beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Some guy kidnapped me and I escaped but I don't know where I am," Sawyer blurted out in a hurry. The stranger looked unsure of what to do, but Sawyer couldn't blame him for that. It was a pretty ridiculous situation and even Sawyer didn't know how he'd react if the roles were reversed. "Please, just let me borrow a phone, or take me to the nearest town--anything."

"Alright." The man helped him to his feet.

As he was being led to the car, he heard another car skid to a halt, just a couple of feet away. He turned around and his blood ran cold when he saw Rowan stepping out of his vehicle.

"Sawyer," he said, breathless.

The man stepped in front of Sawyer. "Is this the guy you were talking about?" He heard Sawyer mumble a shaky affirmative. "Sir, I think you should leave," the stranger spoke.

Rowan paid him no attention whatsoever, looking directly at Sawyer with pleading eyes. "Sawyer, come on. We can go back home now, just please come here." When Sawyer only remained silent, he dragged out a long sigh. "Sir, I know what it looks like, but my husband here has memory loss. I'm just trying to take him home. He does this all the time."

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe that. You can follow us to the hospital if you're so worried, but that's all."

For a split moment, Rowan snarled but gained his composure. "Sorry, you're... you're right. Thank you." He returned to his car, and the stranger urged Sawyer back into the truck.

"Thank you so much," Sawyer sighed in relief. The man nodded and shut the passenger door to approach the driver's side. 

Just as he pulled the door open, he fell to the ground, followed by screaming from Sawyer. He was still alive, but not for long because Rowan shot him three more times in the head. 

Sawyer opened the door to run away, but Rowan caught him by the back of his shirt collar and pinned him against the truck. He wailed into cold steel.

"Look what you made me do," he snarled. That was the first time Sawyer heard him use such a venomous tone. He slammed the barrel of the gun against Sawyer's skull and he fell unconscious instantly.

...

When Sawyer woke up, his surroundings were dark. There was a dim, flickering light bulb in the center of the ceiling and concrete walls around him. He was on the floor, lying on a mattress that wasn't all too comfortable. His leg was chained to the wall so he couldn't escape again. The image of Rowan murdering someone in cold blood flashed through his mind. The memories made him throw up onto the cold ground next to him.

It took him a few seconds to process what had happened earlier that day. The shock made him retch again, which turned into hyperventilating. He couldn't even focus on his hurt.

He got an innocent person killed. An innocent person trying to help him.

And it was all his fault.

Sawyer knew Rowan was crazy, but he didn't consider he'd go that far. He thought Rowan would be too cowardly to actually kill someone else. He'd been so incredibly wrong about him.

If Rowan wasn't afraid to kill someone, what else was he not afraid to do? What did Rowan have in store for him next? Would he kill him too? 

It wasn't long before he heard footsteps approaching the basement. Sawyer clenched his restrained fists. Keys jangled before a lock clicked. The door swung open and Rowan made his way downstairs, taking his sweet time.

He didn't look angry, not exactly. It was more like his calm demeanor was a facade that would crack any moment.

"You killed him," Sawyer spat out first. His voice trembled. "You murdered him. He did nothing wrong."

"He was stopping you from coming home." Rowan squatted down to meet Sawyer's eye level and grabbed a handful of his hair. "He was going to take you away from me." Sawyer gasped out of pain. Rowan forced his head back and met his gaze with narrowed eyes. "And I can't let that happen. I've waited too long for this just for you to be an ungrateful brat about it."

Tears pricked at his eyes. "You kidnapped me! If you weren't expecting this, you're fucking stupid!"

Rowan's expression darkened. His hand left his hair to clutch his jaw. "You really think you can talk back to me after you pulled that shit earlier?" Sawyer spat in his face in response. "Fine, that's how you want to play, huh? Since you're so insistent on being difficult."

Next thing Sawyer knew, Rowan had left him.

Sawyer thought he could be left alone again, but unfortunately, luck was never on his side, as Rowan came back down just a few minutes later with a metal skewer.

It looked pretty non-threatening on its own, but the glint in Rowan's eyes told him it was not going to be pleasant at all.

"I was going to spare you this, but you pissed me off."

Rowan walked over and yanked him upright by the chains on his wrists. The force on them hurt like hell, but he refused to scream in front of him.

He was suspended in midair, hanging from the wall from a hook, the chain from the cuffs keeping him up. The metal dug painfully into his wrists and his shoulders ached from being stretched out.

A pocket knife came into view and it grazed along his shirt until it ripped through the fabric. A warm hand caressed his skin and moved lower to his abdomen, rubbing his thumb over his right side, just above his hip.

He pulled away and dug into his pocket, pulling out a match. He lit it and placed it over the skewer, waiting until it was red hot. 

Sawyer was surprised his heart was still in its chest. "What are you doing?" He struggled further against the cuffs, but they wouldn't budge at all. "Rowan, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I've been too easy on you," Rowan said. "You're right, I was stupid for expecting this to be easy." He smiled wide at him, and never had Sawyer seen something so crazed in his life. "But I suppose this is just a lesson we both need to learn, hm?"

Before Sawyer could even fathom what that meant, Rowan had stabbed the skewer through his skin.

There was no sound from Sawyer's lips, his voice caught in his throat. The pain was unreal, searing into his flesh, tearing through skin and tissue and muscle. It burned and throbbed and felt like every nerve in his body was on fire. Every cell screamed at him to pull away, but all he could do was hang there uselessly, watching in horror as his skin sizzled around the metal rod prodding his abdomen.

After what felt like an eternity, Rowan finally pulled the skewer away and tossed it aside carelessly. Sawyer would've thrown up a second time if not for his stomach being empty. Instead, he gasped for air, choking and coughing on bile and saliva.

He didn't realize Rowan had unfastened him from the chain until he collapsed onto the floor below, landing hard on his side with a pained groan.

"Are you sorry?"

Sawyer only panted.

His hand snaked around the shorter man's neck, only lightly squeezing, but the threat was still there. "I asked you a question."

"Y-yes," Sawyer stammered. "I'm sorry."

Rowan ran his thumb over his Adam's apple. "Good," he murmured, smiling. "Can you tell me what you're sorry for?"

"For running away," he whispered shakily.

"And?"

"Drugging you, and... lying to you."

His smile widened as he nodded approvingly. "I'm glad you're starting to understand how this works, my love." He scooped him up in his arms with a soft grunt. "Let's get you a nice long bath."

[actuallysillyzai]

My container smells like vomit because I didn't clean up after I got sick when I failed to kms again

[irondad-defensesquad]

How to Disappear Completely

Also on AO3! This is purely a vent fic so characters might be OOC. TRIGGER WARNINGS - suicide attempt (overdose), suicidal thoughts, near death, vomiting, and hospitalization. DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. It’s me again. How are you doing? How’s the trip? You’ve been away for a couple of days now, haha…”

Peter doesn’t get any reply. He sighs.

“I guess my patrol hasn’t been too bad. But school has been stressing me out lately. Sometimes I wish I could leave the Decathlon, but I already left the school band and a bunch of other things… I dunno, I don’t think I can handle things the way I used to.”

He stares at the night sky, listening to the whole city. It never sleeps and neither will Peter.

“Ned has been sick all week. It’s nothing serious, but he needs to rest and I don’t want to bug him. Aunt May has been busy, working a lot more night shifts, and I know it’s my fault. I rarely see her now. She still texts me or calls me to know how I’m doing, but it’s not the same, y’know?” Peter narrates. “And I know you and Happy have more important things to do, I get it, it’s fine.”

As he says that, he starts tearing up.

“... I wish I could’ve told you to stay,” Peter admits. “That’s really selfish of me, I know. You don’t have to drop everything for my sake. I wouldn’t want you to do that. I just…” He sniffs. “I miss you, Mr. Stark. I-I feel like I don’t have anyone else right now. And it’s not like I’m hurt or anything… I just miss you very much.”

He half uncovers his face so his mask doesn’t get gross with tears and snot.

“... You know when you come home and you don’t feel anything? Even after you had a good day or you didn’t feel like shit all day? But then you get home and you see how empty it is… you feel so lonely that it hurts, somehow. It’s empty but it hurts, real bad. Have you ever felt like that, Mr. Stark? Or is it just me?” Peter wishes to god that someone answered this. “A-And it hurts so much that… you wish you could disappear. Because you don’t want to go back outside, but you don’t want to be home, either. There’s nothing for you in either.”

The emptiness is right there, in Peter’s silence. It’s there with the lack of the other line. It’s always there and it will always be there, no matter how busy Peter may be, no matter how hard he might laugh with his best friend, or how happy he might be when Tony compliments him and touches him. Every night that Peter comes back home, there’s nothing left. Peter will never be fulfilled.

He can’t stay home, he can’t stay outside… Where should he go?

…

“Mr. Stark…” Peter gulps, despite the fact Tony isn’t even here. But he needs to say it before it’s too late.

“... I love–”

“You’ve reached the limit of voicemails.”

Even his phone is telling him to shut up.

Peter inhales but he’s unable to filter out his frustration. He growls and throws his phone to the ground, easily cracking it in many pieces. Oh, great. How is he going to get a new phone now? After he broke so many? How is Aunt May going to pay for another one if he’s just going to break it again and again?

He’s sobbing violently in his empty apartment, his chest aching and suffocating him. His cries echo in all rooms, but not a soul will ever hear.

Peter can’t do this anymore.

He can’t be alone anymore.

He’s so tired.

It feels like the walls are all surrounding him and they’re crushing him. He has no way out, not even upwards. There isn’t a light above that can give him hope. No one can save it, not even himself.

He needs to go. Where to? How?

The pain is too much for him to handle.

Peter wishes he could sleep. He hasn’t slept well in days. Likely since Tony left New York.

… he remembers that Tony left him some enhanced medication. Not necessarily for sleeping, but they help Peter sleep when he’s in pain. Maybe if he takes enough, he might be able to sleep faster.

The teenager simply takes the pot of pills and he doesn’t process how many he grabs and puts in his mouth. He swallows them all with one huge sip of water. The effects don’t happen in an instant; he gradually feels his mind spinning and the world around him blurring.

He drops in his bed, knocking something over. It reminds him of when the effects of the spider bite left him sick. He thought he was going to die.

Peter starts crying, realizing Aunt May and Uncle Ben aren’t here to take care of him.

He’s fading, he can tell.

He couldn’t even say goodbye. Or “I’m sorry” or “I love you”.

Peter can only hug the blanket, the only thing that is really there for him.

What he would give to have a hug from Tony now.

But Tony is not coming, is he?

The black hole inside Peter is sucking everything in. Soon, he won’t be there anymore.

Maybe this is for the best. For everyone.

… He can vaguely tell that his suit made a noise. He doesn’t know what it is, and it doesn’t matter anymore.

He’s going to sleep.

He’ll sleep now.

He’ll…

…

--

“... there you go, Peter. You’re going to be okay.”

A delicate hand is caressing his forehead.

It’s like something is burning his stomach all the way up.

And Peter releases the lava inside him.

It hurts so much that he cries.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

It all feels so vague, he doesn’t recall falling asleep.

Peter slowly blinks his eyes open. Someone is still there.

“Hi,” Aunt May smiles at him. Though she looks like she cried.

“May…?” Peter calls her. “Y-You’re… home earlier?”

Her smile fades a little. “Not exactly.”

“Huh? Wait…”

He finally realizes this isn’t his bedroom. He’s in a hospital room but not in any ordinary hospital. Peter is more than familiar with this place.

“... MedBay?” He asks. “Tower…?”

May nods. “You’re going to be okay. They were able to stop the medications from going too far. Tony had something under his sleeve.”

Peter’s eyes open a little more. “Tony?”

“Yes, he’ll be here soon. You missed him, right?”

“W-What do you mean? I-Is he actually here?”

May nods again. Peter doesn’t know what to feel.

“B-But… he was out of town…”

“He sent an armor to rescue you, but he’s already back home.”

This is what Peter wanted, right?

But not like this. How has Tony felt? Is he angry? Is he sad?

In fact, May doesn’t seem to be angry.

“Once he finishes talking to the doctors, he’ll be here,” she reassures Peter, who still doesn’t know how to take the news.

“I-I’m sorry, Aunt May. I’m sorry I did something so stupid…”

“Shhh… You’re going to be alright.” She hugs him but does not engulf him so as not to hurt her nephew.

Peter feels so selfish right now. And he doesn’t understand why May isn’t mad.

Once she lets go, she asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Really sick…”

May smooths his brown curls, looking pained. Like she wishes she could take away all of Peter’s suffering, when that’s impossible for anyone, even Peter himself.

Then he starts hearing outside noises. Fancy shoes of a businessman.

The door opens slowly…

“Hey there, underoos.”

Tony looks awful. He might still wear a fancy suit, but the shirt is messy and there’s no tie. The man looks like he aged a whole decade. He’s smiling yet he might have cried as much if not more than May did.

“M-Mr. Stark…” Peter tears up even more and it’s not clear if it’s out of relief or regret.

“It’s good to see you,” Tony says, swallowing a sigh.

May stands up so Tony sits next to the boy.

“It was quite a scare, huh?” His mentor observes, though not pointing any fingers at what caused the scare in the first place. Tony lowers his gaze for a moment. “I’m really sorry, Peter, I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch–”

“No, Mr. Stark–”

“I knew you sent voicemails and I should’ve–”

“Y-You were busy, I get it… I’m sorry I made you come back.”

“Kid… you’ll always come first. You’re never going to make me do anything. You need help, so I’m going to help you, alright?”

“You can call me too, Peter,” May joins them. “I’ll do anything to get to you.”

The teen shakes his head. “Why aren’t you mad at me? W-Why won’t you hate me for… for being like this?”

“We’re not going to get mad when you need help,” Tony tells him. “Or when you’re in pain.”

“Why?”

“Because we love you, Peter,” May answers.

“Why?”

Loving me is just going to get you killed, he wants to add.

“Because you’re our kid, we love everything about you in all of your moments, no exceptions,” Tony still smiles for him.

At this point, Peter is unable to protest anymore. He bursts out in tears, and from each side, May and Tony wrap their arms around him. He can’t fathom to understand this readiness, this kind of comprehension.

Their top priority is to stay with Peter. That’s all that matters.

Soon enough, Tony convinces May to get some food. She doesn’t have to pay anything, he made sure of that. She grins at him gratefully, trusting him with Peter without even saying words. Once she leaves, Tony reveals some water he must have gotten for Peter. Problem is, he feels sick and he doesn’t want to throw up, but he definitely feels thirsty as well.

“Slowly, okay?" Tony instructs. "If you need to throw up, I have a bin right here."

Peter just takes a small sip. It’s kind of hard to swallow, but for now he doesn’t gag.

“Good job,” the hero compliments.

The boy sniffs. “H-How did you know?”

Tony suddenly looks tired.

“You were wearing your suit,” he replies simply.

“... Oh.”

I put everything in your suit.

“And… did you hear my voicemails?”

“All of them while I was on my way here.”

Peter groans. “Mr. Stark… Gosh, I’m so sorry for being clingy…”

“Well, would I be clingy to admit I missed you, too?”

“... You missed me?”

“Duh.”

Tony doesn’t sound that snarky admitting that. Neither does he joke that Peter is giving him gray hairs.

“I should’ve made that clearer, huh?”

“I-It’s okay–”

“Seriously, kid. I should’ve been more present. I promise you I’ll remind you more often that I remember you and that you’re not annoying me.”

Peter reflects.

“... Do I really mean that much?”

“You have no idea.”

Peter would’ve blushed if he weren’t so drained out.

He relaxes a little more. But there is a question in his head right now.

“... What is going to happen to me?”

Tony seems to be ready for that question.

“Well, you won’t be Spider-Manning for a while, and you’re not going to be alone. We’ll see how you’ll be tomorrow, but I’m certain that you didn’t have any serious complications. I had the right antidote. You might just feel sick for a few days, though.”

Peter ponders. “Y-You’re not going to send me away, right? To that place?”

Hearing the fear in his voice, Tony sits closer to him to also pat his head.

“No, kiddo. I’ll make sure you have the best treatment, alright?” He ensures. “And I promise no one is going to hurt you or isolate you.”

Peter has heard about psych wards and how hostile they can be. And he cannot imagine what it would be like for someone with mutant powers there.

“Me, your aunt, everyone is going to be there for you at every step of the process. We’ll figure it out slowly. And you’re not going to feel instantly better, and that’s okay. Don’t be afraid to tell us when you’re not feeling okay or if we mess up. We’ll listen. Okay, Peter?”

Tony always sounds so certain and determined when it comes to Peter. The latter will never truly understand that. But he nods and accepts it.

“Okay.”

The man, once again, hugs him. This time for a little longer.

Peter has some strength to hug back with one arm.

“... I love you,” he whispers. “I-I love you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony doesn’t respond at first…

Then he’s tightening his grip a little bit.

“I love you too, kiddo.”

And Peter can hear thousands of other words in it. Tony doesn’t have to say them.

The boy cries again.

Not only because Peter could finally say it… But most importantly, he’s alive to actually hear it back from Tony.

It won’t get rid of the black hole… but it will help Peter manage it.

[compassionatereminders]

i just want to vent (off anon bc im proud of myself for not giving up and dying) and this is. slightly graphic so tw for suicide attempt(s) and vomiting

i just started off the year by almost trying to kill myself (last night. well a few hours ago) but i woke up and threw up whatever i tried to kill myself with (it went up my nose!!!! every breath i take i can smell it :( it sucks). it was fucking disgusting and i can still taste it so im just waiting for my turn in the bathroom before i brush my teeth. tbh i knew it wouldn't kill me, i didn't take enough, i just wanted to make myself sick so i didn't have to go to school today. (spoiler alert: im not sick enough to skip school)

then i remembered the time that i tried to kill myself like. 2 years ago, when i told my teacher i wanted to die and it's exactly a week before my period. according to my tracker my period is near (i have irregular cycles so its probs off by a few days). so im just like, yeah this is not me. i want to live. i dont want to die here. im not hopeless.

im gonna go to school today and im gonna bring food for my friends. i have several activities i haven't submitted (or done. for that matter.) but one of them in particular is actually 2 outputs (a paper and a video presentation of the paper) and i have to defend my paper. it's worth a lot of my grades, so now im hoping that my teacher will approach me and ask why i didn't submit my work and I'll tell her its because i was having an ongoing crisis (not the exact phrasing im gonna use but yeah thats the gist of it).

also realized that the time of the year really affects my mental state. like i struggle so hard to even want to keep myself alive during November and December (since i was young!!!!!!) which just so happens to be the 2nd quarter of the school year and it really shows in my academic performance. and now its January and i hope this phase of my life has ended. im gonna fight for the life i want and i wont die :)

i hope you have a good year (also your blog has helped me through some very rough times in my life. thank you for existing :) )

I'm glad you're still here, and I'm so happy to hear that you've decided to stick around, but if any level of suicidal ideation is a common thing for you before periods, I strongly recommend that you talk to a doctor and look into PMDD and hormonal birth control, because you should not have to deal with this level of distress and instability up to your periods, and if you do that's a big problem which might have a solution

[thatonekidxdd]

Triggering stuff below, not feeling the best so vent art

[whumpberry-cookie]

could we please have some emeto prompts where caretaker comforts whumpee? its the hot trendy prompt, everyone is doing it!! jump on the trend pal! -🎤🎩 Dapper Mic Anon

Ohhh, like the emetophobia!

For a moment I was wondering "...who on Earth is Emeto?"

Emeto comfort prompts!

But kinda ANGST at the same time. I'm sorry, apparently every comfort prompt I try to write turns out to be angsty. But I tried my best.

(Cw: Sickfic around vomiting. So bodily fluids. Also attemted murder, poison, internal injuires, revenge, forced medicine, morally gray caretaker)

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

Whumpee suddenly vomits, and doesn't even have time to grab any bag, so they stain the sheets. And is soo... soo ashamed that Caretaker sees them like that. But instead of disgust or irritation, Caretaker is so relieved and happy. Because that means Whumpee's body is fighting with the sickness and they will get better soon.

Caretaker treats sick Whumpee. (kind of field medicine doctor?) As soon as they enter the room they decide it needs to be aired, because the smell of puke must be unbereable for the patient. But there's deadly cold outside and all patient beds are already occupied. So Caretaker gently picks Whumpee up and carries them in their arms. Maybe Whumpee vomits with blood and stains Caretaker's apron red. Caretaker lies Whumpee down in Caretaker's own room. (W:) "I'm sorry..." (C:) "It happens. That's what the apron is for after all"

A beggar Whumpee is endlessly grateful for getting a whole loaf of bread from some generous stranger. Until their stomach starts horribly hurting. While they vomit, their gullet burns like fire. And then they see there's blood and pieces of sharp glass in the fluid. Other starnger find them like that, takes them inside their house and treats the internal wounds as well as they can. "How did the first stranger look like? Describe them to me," asks stranger Caretaker. Whumpee does. Caretaker silently leaves the house and comes back some hours later. When asked where they were, Caretaker replies with a mysterious smile, "I just fed someone with their own recipe"

Whumpee got poisoned, so Caretake has to force the vomiting-provoking medicine into them. It's heartbreaking to see Whumpee so pale, wet from the tears, saliva and sweat. So exhausted. They can't even sleep. They vomit the whole night. Caretaker just sits there and holds the bucket for them, sometimes pushes Whumpee's hair from their forehead. (W:) "Please, make it stop already" (C:) "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Whumpee, but I can't until you clean your stomach" Whumpee cries in helplessness. Caretaker hugs them tight. "It will be over soon. I promise"

(C:) "Whumpee. I work as a tanatopraktor for almost five years. Do you really think the pukes are the worst thing I had all over me?" (W:) "....Will you tell me what was the worst?" (C:) "Will you puke again if I tell you?" (W:) "...Probably" (C:) "Then I'll leave it to your imagination"

_________________________

Thank you so much for the ask, Dapper Mic Anon!

I had no idea that's the trend now! Thank you for letting me know! Maybe I should make research in community more often...?

[r0ttingsystem]

Tw vomit

Ah, don't give up on vomitting just because you're outside of the two hour window! It's most efficient during those times, but (especially with pain killers! :D) it's good to remove them up to six hours! You still have plenty of time :D

Thank goodness for pain killers being slow active most of the time!

The ones we took work in 15 minutes so Idk

We certainly started feeling them in like 15 minutes

Kinda scared to vomit if I'm being honest, also I don't think I can get up right now

I know it's dumb but Im just

Idk

But I'll try to

[dreamsb0u]

A weird ass dream/nightmare i had?????

Tw: mentioned kidnapping, cannibalism, attempted murder, brief throwing up

Ok so I’m living normally but most of my family and Cross (who was kidnapped but decided he wanted to stay there) is there for some reason and then I play badminton with my sister with fish nets and a tennis ball ????

We go out shopping and buy some stupid costumes and dolls for customisation and I wear the costume briefly before changing back

Then I catch the train with some of my classmates and for some reason the train is super short, a specific group of people are scared of me for going near them, you have to run to catch the train and people are jumping on and off and I go home

Ok then my mum serves dinner and it’s mostly meat so I ask and cue a bunch of questions also bc a lot of my family is missing I.e “the most human part about him” I’m able to act like I’m in on this for a bit before I throw up and then I do Cross’s makeup for something that lasts a day or two then I try to grab him and run but he doesn’t follow so I’m running up my street listening to my mum yell at me for running and I’m writing what she says on the road and I run towards the highway with my phone to call the cops while my mum tries to hit me with her car and then I wake up and now I’m writing this

[echosofmemory]

Now What?

TW: vomit mention, blood mention, panic attack (let me know if I need additional tws)

“I was lied to. I was lied to. I was lied to…”

How long had you been sitting here? You were crowded on a couch by over enthusiastic demons. Each one trying to draw your attention in some form or fashion.

You were surrounded. Everything around you was just noise. How long had you been in a daze? Not that it stopped the endless stream of chatter since you had sat down, but it was unnerving… isolating.

“I’ll be right back!” You quickly jumped up. The need to move, to retreat pounding through your veins.

Too much, too fast.

Quickly you disappear down the hall in an attempt to vanish into a communal bathroom. In there the air is slightly cooler though that does little to ease the vice-like grip that squeezes your ribs together, cold and suffocating.

How did this come to be?

There is a wild and haunted look on your face. Eyes hollow, still stuck in disbelief. Splashing water over your face does little to help, though now there is icy clarity that slows time down further. Bile rises and you’re dry heaving.

‘They lied to me. They lied to me!’ That internal wail crawls up your spine, icy nails in between each vertebrae as your legs buckle and you slide to the floor. Your DDD clatters hard and there was a snap.

A stinging pain bit across your palm, enough to snap you into awareness. Quickly you are on your feet again and poking you head out the door. Just in time to see Barbato’s back disappearing into the kitchen. Glancing up and down the hall you scuttle to your room.

And there you stood. For how long you do not know. But once that awareness seeps back in, you hurl your DDD against the wall. Something steadily drips, making a pattering sound. Your legs buckle again and you’re on the floor, leaning against the edge of your bed. The stinging is back, demanding acknowledgement.

There was never any real agreement when getting pulled down into the Devildom. But you had asked only that they not hurt you. There were plenty of incidents where you could have claimed it- but it took the actual act of dying when something inside broke.

They had promised you wouldn’t get hurt. That was the only reason you had eventually agreed to this crazy exchange. The vague promise of safety. Each time you let things slide. The threats of being eaten, the loud monstrous yells, the almost physical displays of protective violence. Anyways geared towards you.

And then you died. A single snap. A break. Just as easy as breathing. And then, you were not.

When you came to again you were surrounded. Though it was dark you knew who was there. The deep rumbles of snoring and breathing causes your heart to tremble. Safe. Not safe.

Before you, Mammon was asleep, curled towards you afraid of breaking you.

Behind you was him. The one who set off this whole episode of pain and panic. Snoozing away. How you wanted to punt him from the room. No such luck.

You shiver involuntarily, your temperature dipping again.

They broke their promise. Now what?

[blind-radio-waves]

He supposes what hes actually asking is if it's concerning that he vomited what seemed to be about 30% of his blood volume, which is apparently currently ink, and feels extremely light headed and like he's about to fall into a rather vicious vision any time soon, which will not help his currently blood level.

Mal is here with him, don't worry too much, he's not alone in this, but hey. At least he's following Dark's request and is, in fact, not in a jail cell right now!

Small victories everybody. Small victories.

[qumiiiquinnquin]

maybe i should go back to the benadryl

[pinkspiraling]

be mean to me!!!

[zerosocialskillz]

Woe is me staring at the television, Demon Slayer airing on Netflix. I got fixated on that show so much I did not realize what was going on around me.

And then I snap back to reality and realize that my cousin has been barfing in-between me and the television because she got too drunk and my other cousins are trying to take care of her