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glowingmember · 1 year ago
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You guys I got two book deliveries today while I was at work - one is a delightful book with a lot of hilarious writing and the other has a printing defect that I am currently awaiting resolution for.
Turkish and I were way more excited about the cookbook than we were for our own comic, lol.
srsly though, Dylan's book is way heftier than I was expecting. There are also little introductions to every recipe and you can hear his voice saying all of it. In the back of the book are a handful of the worst recipes he's ever done, because he knows what we want.
10/10 recommend buying if you were on the fence about it. I've already bookmarked a couple recipes to try on my own in my tiny closet of a kitchen.
..
I'm disappointed in the pimpette book; with Fan Expo next month I was looking forward to finally having a table full of comic books. Hopefully the printer can re-send without all the weird colour streaks; I'm still grumpy that apparently nobody bothered to glance at it before they mailed it.
At least I do have the first Pimpette comic book, which I got through a different printer (who has their own issues but that's another story), plus the two Slow Burn issues.
I am definitely going to do a zine or two for the con though! I'll flip through my handfuls of side stories and toss a couple together into some simple little black and white mini zines.
August is going to be full of STRESS tune in to watch me explode in realtime.
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toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 months ago
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Lessons
Summary: Joel Miller, the smuggler of the Boston QZ, does not want your money when he gets you the medication you need, he asks for your body. Something you happily agree to. But one night he catches you touching yourself after you just had sex and leaves you to finally admit to him that you almost never finish with him. Something Joel can't and won't let stand.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Rating: E
Wordcount: 3k
Warnings: Boston QZ Joel, sex as a business transaction, mentions of period pains and medication, mentions of alcohol. smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex, oral sex) Joel is bad at feelings but he's trying, little bit of oblivious idiots cause why the hell not
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
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It started because you needed pills.
FEDRA had again increased the prices for the medication you and many other people needed, you, to get through you period every month and you had heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that there might be another way to get it. 
It was back then that you met Joel Miller. 
You were at the speakeasy after a long day of pretending to love getting to cook meals at the FEDRA base on the other side of the QZ. 
You hated the job, but it paid well and left you being able to sometimes steal shit so you put a fake smile on while the FEDRA officers lined up to get their food at the make shift cafeteria you were working in, ignoring their lingering stares and attempts to flirt with you. 
It had been a long and exhausting day and you wanted a drink when your friend Carl told you that Joel Miller was here. You followed the way he was pointing at, being met with dark eyes already looking at you. 
He was not what you expected. 
Smugglers you had met before usually were younger and making you uncomfortable for various reasons. 
But Joel Miller was attractive in a dangerous way. 
He was sitting at the far end of the underground speakeasy, his jeans clad legs spread widely. He had a drink in his hand, that was resting on his thigh, the sleeves of the dark shirt he was wearing pushed over his elbows, showing his strong arms. 
But it was the way he was looking at you that made you realise that Joel Miller could become a problem for you. 
It was the first night he had fucked you. 
In a dark corner outside of the speakeasy, his hand wrapped over your mouth to keep you quiet as he railed you against the cold stone wall, spilling his cum over your still clothed back before you could cum, leaving you to clean up by yourself while he made his way back inside. 
You had to finish yourself off the moment you got home.
A pattern that you didn’t know would continue for the next years. 
It was easy. 
You let him fuck you and he would get you the drugs you needed. 
Yes, you could afford to pay him with ration cards. It would probably even better for you. But over the years this arrangement you had was now going, you started craving the way he was using you. 
It was the only human connection you allowed yourself to have, even though it only rarely ended with you getting to climax. Something that you realise should bother you more. 
It wasn’t like he didn’t make you feel good. He did. He was big and rough and just what you craved. 
He just wasn’t in it for you, but for him and him only. 
Joel came, every single time. 
Be it on your ass, on your tits or in your mouth. He always finished. 
It was always the same procedure. 
Every three months you’d meet up at the speakeasy. He would fuck you from behind either there or at your home, never his, and you would wake up to a three month supply of the drugs you needed on your kitchen table. 
You asked him once how he did get inside of your apartment and he said that you should learn how to lock your door.
But tonight something was different. 
You had run into him on the street after your shift. Another thing that seemed to happen more often. 
In the last couple of months Joel seemed to always be where you were. Something that had not happened in all the years before. 
It had only been three weeks since you met up and he asked if he could come over later. 
Confused you had agreed. 
If you were honest with yourself you had been looking forward to spending the rest of your day with the bottle of wine you had stolen from the FEDRA kitchen some weeks ago. 
There would be memorial services all over the QZ tonight, the curfew being lifted for the day before and for Outbreak day. 
You couldn’t believe it already had been ten years. 
You were already a glass of wine in when you heard a knock on your door. Event though you knew who it would be (you never got visitors) you checked before you opened the door for Joel. 
He nodded at you as he entered and you leaned with your back against the closed door, watching him in your space. 
You came to the realisation that you only ever spend time with him when it was dark outside. Like he was a monster that was hiding under your bed. 
He awkwardly turned around to look at you and you tilted your head to the side as you looked at him, waiting for what would happen next. 
„The supplier for your drugs got killed last week. I don’t have someone new yet, but I have these,“ he reached into this back pocket and showed you a small tube of pills. 
„These should last you for four months more. I’ll try to figure something out for after,“ he said. You nodded, taking a step towards him. He held out the tube of pills and you took it from him, reading over the faded out ink on the label that read the name of a woman that was probably long dead. 
„Thank you,“ you said quietly. 
„Take a seat, I’ll just put them away,“ you said. He nodded and you turned around, walking towards your little bathroom. You put the pills away, before you looked at yourself in the small mirror above the sink. 
You asked yourself why he chose today to come over and give you the pills. He could have waited  until the next time you were due since he had a full supply for the next time. 
Not that you were complaining. 
More than once you had tried to come up with a plan to have sex with Joel more often than you did, but for some reason you felt silly with every idea that you had. 
You could ask, but you didn’t think you could handle if he said no, so you made your peace with the arrangement you had. 
You just wanted to spend more time with him, feeling yourself drawn to him. 
Taking a deep breath you made your way back towards your kitchen area, where Joel was now sitting at your small table. You were overwhelmed with the urge to climb into his lap. 
Instead you picked up your glass of wine to take a sip. 
„You want a glass too?“ You asked him. 
„Sure,“ he nodded. You picked up a mug. 
„Only have that one glass, sorry,“ you said sheepishly as you filled the mug with some wine and brought it over to him. 
„Where did you get that from anyway?“ He asked, his fingers brushing over yours as he took the mug from you. 
You sat down on the chair next to him. 
„Stole it from the FEDRA pantry,“ you shrugged and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow  before he shook his head, his mouth twitching into a small grin. 
„Unbelievable,“ he said looking at you with warm eyes before he brought the mug up to his lips. 
„They have so much shit they don’t need. Makes me angry to see everyone suffer while they get to eat first class meals. So I sometimes take things,“ you shrugged. 
„Anything else you took?“ He asked, leaning towards you. 
You sucked your bottom lip in, before you got up. 
„I usually take small stuff. Spices, herbs and shit. But,“ you bend down, opening the cabinet under the sink and reaching to the very end, searching for the two bottles you hid there some time ago, grinning when you picked them up and turned around, missing him staring at your ass.
His eyes widened when he noticed what you held. 
„Shut the fuck up," he said in awe and you chuckled. 
„You want some Jack and Coke, Miller?“ You winked and he shook his hand with a grin. 
„If you’re offerin’“ he winked.
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„Please,“ you moaned, letting your head fall down against your pillow as Joel fucked you into you mattress. You were so close. He had one of his hands on our back, pinning you against the mattress while he pumped his cock into you in deep hard thrusts. 
He had gotten you naked not long after you offered him the first glass of whiskey, asking you if you’d like to suck his cock while he emptied his glass. 
You did, keeping him on the edge for almost an hour before he pulled you up and told you to kneel on the bed. 
You were surprised to find him pulling you up against his chest moments later, his skin against yours as he played with your tits. 
Usually these fucks were quick, leaving no time to really get out of either of your clothes. And if you had the time, it was always you who got naked. 
„Always so fucking good,“ he moaned behind you and you gasped. You reached one hand between your legs to play with your clit when Joel groaned and pulled out of you. Whining as he turned you around you looked up at him as he jerked himself off before he moaned and spilled his cum all over your body. 
You were annoyed for a moment, having been so close yourself but that disappeared the moment you saw how relaxed Joel looked. He was mumbling something you couldn’t make out before his eyes opened, taking you in as you laid on your back with his cum all over your stomach and chest. 
„So pretty,“ he mumbled before he let himself lay down next to you. He stretched his arms to the side and you sighed, slipping your fingers through his cum on your chest, bringing it up to taste it. With a grin you turned your head towards the side to look at Joel only to find him asleep.
Disappointed you sat yourself up before you made your way back to your bathroom to clean yourself up. 
After taking care of your business and brushing your teeth you grabbed a glass of water and made your way back to your bed. Joel was still sleeping, laying completely naked in your bed, his flaccid cock still glistening in your juices. 
Shaking your head you grabbed your spare blanket and put it over him before you snuggled under your blanket. You switched the small lamp on your bedside table off.
Usually he would be gone by now. 
He never stayed, let alone fell asleep next to you. It made you think back to the last time you had shared a bed with someone. Ten years ago.
The last time your life had been normal. The last time you had been truly happy. The last time you had slept in the arms of the man you thought you would grow old with only to wake up to him trying to kill you. 
Closing your eyes you shook your head, trying to get rid of the memory that haunted you every single day. You turned your head to look at Joel.
He looked so much younger when he was asleep. The lines around his eyes almost gone, his lips resting in a pout. Adorable. 
You spend more time thinking about Joel Miller than you would ever admit. 
Of course you heard the stories around the QZ about him. How he took no shit from anyone. He had the reputation to be brutal and cold. 
But he never was with you. 
You hummed, letting your hands ran down your body, before you brought one hand between your legs while your other hand played with your tits. 
You moved your fingers over your clit, your pussy still wet from Joel fucking you. 
Thinking about how he felt when he fucked you you pushed two fingers inside of you, humming quietly. It wasn’t his cock, but it would do the job. Moving your fingers inside of you, the palm of your hand massaging your clit. 
„Fuck,“ you whispered, moving your hips slowly. You pulled your fingers out, focusing on your clit instead and you smiled when you felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching. Arching your back your blanket slipped down, revealing your tits to the cold air. 
Your lips parted as you took deep breaths, your orgasm so close you could almost taste it. 
You released a long and happy sigh when you finally came, biting your lip as you rode it out. Relaxing back into your bed you closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. 
„Can’t get enough, huh?“ Joel’s sleepy voice startled you and your eyes opened wide, finding him looking at you as he laid on the side.
Caught, you felt your cheeks burning before you turned your head away from him, hiding. 
„Uh. Yeah. I just… needed to cum again….“ You mumbled awkwardly, intending to get out of the bed to flee into the bathroom, before you felt his fingers wrap around one of your writs, holding you back. 
Nervously sucking your bottom lip in you turned back to him, finding him already looking at you with narrowed eyes.
„You did cum earlier, right? I felt it,“ he said.
You just looked at him, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation when you slowly shook your head. He blinked once, twice at you before his eyes widened. 
„You didn’t cum?“ He asked, confused. 
Suddenly feeling too naked for this conversation you pulled your blanket up and over your breasts as you turned on the bed towards him. 
You took a deep breath. 
„No. I did not,“ you finally said and if this situation wouldn’t be so awkward you would laugh at his horrified expression. 
„But… You… You… I felt it? I did, didn’t I….“ He was speaking to himself and you took his hand. 
„It’s not a big deal. Maybe it’s me. It’s always been hard to finish and…“ You were stopped as he squeezed your hand. 
„You did finish before with me, right?“ He asked slowly. 
You nodded. „Of course!“ You said quickly. 
He narrowed his eyes again. 
„How often. And don’t lie to me,“ he added. You looked down at your hands.
„Joel, can we please just… I don’t know. Sleep? This is… You make me feel so good. Really. And that’s….“
His fingers tilted your chin up so you had to look at him. 
„How often?“ He asked again and you sighed. 
„Once,“ you mumbled.
„Once?“ He asked with wide eyes. 
„Yeah. But Joel… I like the way you fuck me. It feels good and I don’t care if I cum or if I don’t cum. And I mean it’s a business transaction really so it doesn’t….JOEL!“ You cried out his name when he grabbed you to lay you down, throwing the blanked off your body, his body caging you in. 
„Do not say that it doesn’t matter. Just because it’s business does not mean that it doesn’t matter that you don’t cum. Why didn’t you say anything?“ He asked.
„Because this is fucking awkward,“ you whined. 
„Doesn’t matter. I don’t make you cum, you tell me. Or better yet,“ he said as he slowly slipped down your body. 
„We not gonna leave this bed until I know exactly how it feels when you cum,“ he said and you felt his beard lightly scratch over your stomach, before he settled between your legs. 
„But Joel. You don’t have to do this. It’s just sex,“ you said and you saw him close his eyes before he took a deep breath and looked at you again. 
„Hasn’t been just sex for me for a while. Why do you think I keep looking for reasons to run into you,“ he said and it was like something clicked inside your head. You had been seeing him fairly often these last weeks. But he never talked to you. He sometimes nodded at you when you saw him, but there was nothing else. 
„So please, let me learn how to make you cum so I don’t feel like a dick who has been using the woman he’s been crushing on like a fucking teenager?“ He said and you grinned. 
„You are crushing on me? That’s adorable,“ you teased and he chuckled with a shake of his head before he kissed your inner thigh. 
„Not a big talker. But I now how to use my mouth in other ways,“ he winked before he licked through your folds, making you gasp. 
„And I need you to guide me, so I know what to do the next time,“ he said.
„Next time?“ You asked. 
„Next time,“ he nodded, before he began to eat you out.
He started slowly, his tongue exploring your pussy, humming at your taste. You could not take your eyes off of him. 
His strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs parted as wide as he needed while he nibbled and sucked and licked you, driving you positively insane.
Once he had you cumming on his tongue he used his fingers. Saving every single expression and sound you made to his memory so he would never forget what made you cum. 
In the early morning hours he had you coming on his cock, squeezing him so hard he almost spilled inside of you, yet he fucked you through your orgasm until he pulled out and spilled himself all over your pussy. 
You were almost asleep, exhausted and utterly satisfied from the five orgasms you had in the last hours, when you almost missed him pulling you against his chest and kissing your shoulder, mumbling a sleepy „Love you“ against your ear.
Making you fall asleep with a smile on your face. 
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leviraaaaaa · 1 month ago
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Takes place in s2 after the scouts rescue Eren.
Blood had dried over your face. It dried over your lashes, making it hard to blink. The pain had numbed long ago, the cuts and slashes didn't hurt as much. At least, not as bad as how your heart ached.
You should have been in the med-bay. In your dorm perhaps. In the bathroom showering up, you think. But instead you found yourself slumped against Levi's door. You weren't even sure why. But out of all the places, this was what the first place you could think of. You needed to run. To hide. But there were people everywhere. And everyone was covered in blood and everyone was crying and everyone was staring. And everyone kept asking you questions and they all looked half-dead and goddamnit, you couldn't take it anymore.
You ended up here, for some reason. Instinctively, you had seeked him out. Well-aware he wouldn't be here but nevertheless.
It was the only side of the building that wasn't swarming with people anyways.
But you think you needed something to ground yourself. Needed his familiar gray eyes to glare at you. Some sense of sanity, clarity, safety.
You wished he was here, you thought.
So that he could scold you. Yell at you to get your ass up and get cleaned because you're filthy and you're bleeding all over his carpet.
Maybe that's what you need.
Maybe his sharp tongue would finally snap you out of this nightmare.
"What..are you doing here?"
You jolted. Your stiff, blood-crusted lashes barely fluttered as you blinked up.
He was there, standing in front of you, eyes widened just a fraction, confused and surprised.
You sighed.
You take it back, you don't really want to see him right now.
"..Levi." You muttered, not bothering to get up. Or even move. Your body give itself up a little more, leaning the rest of it's weight on the door. "Didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"Where am I supposed to be?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
"I don't know?" You shrugged. "By Erwin's sick bed?"
"I hate hospitals."
Your mouth twiched. Of course he did. "Will Erwin be okay?"
"He'll live,” He sighs. "His arm won't though.”
You looked away.
“Was it bad?” He asked, carefully watching you with narrowed eyes. You knew exactly what he meant.
“What do you think, genius?”
Levi stared, unease in his posture. He looked uncertain. He'd known the answer, the moment the first horse came in. There were too much blood, too many injured. He knew the answer when he'd saw Erwin, his uniform bloodied and mangled. Hange looked terribly exhausted and the brats looked banged up as well. It doesn't take much for one to add two and two and understand what it'd been like.
Then he'd looked for you. Wildly. He was looking at every horse that passed through, observing every hooded face. Then he paused by the medical room, glancing over every person, but no, no you. There was no you. So he could successfully rule out that you were heavily injured as well.
So when he'd went out to search for you, this was not the place he'd thought he'd find you.
This was, also, definitely not the state he'd thought he'd find you in.
Slouched down in a pool of blood and filth, you were curled up so close, as if trying to make yourself smaller, to make you disappear. He felt a sense of relief when he noticed you weren't too injured. At least, not physically.
There was something wrong though. The more he looked at you, the more frail you appeared. There was something in the way you looked, so tired, so terribly exhausted. The eyes of someone lost. Someone who had just survived hell. Someone who didn't know where else to go. From all the years he'd known you, he'd never seen you this fazed.
He felt a sudden feeling of helplessness. He didn't know how to help you. But he swallowed it down and spoke anyway.
"Are you.. alright?"
You glanced up. He was looking at you, actually looking at you, with worry.
You thought about it for a second
"...no." You swallowed.
He inhaled, nodding, like he wasn't expecting any different answer. His eyes glanced over you.
"You're covered in blood."
"Don't worry, most of it isn't mine."
"I can see you're bleeding." He said. "Why are you not in the med wing?"
"...I needed space." You mumbled, hugging your knees close to your chest. But he was giving you that look, that look that made you feel as though he could see right through your soul. It always made you feel so exposed. So small. You wish you didn't look so vulnerable as you must do. "..that's why I came here. Didn't think you'd be around."
"You're bleeding out on my office carpet.”
That made you grin, "I know. " You said. "I'm sorry. I'll move in a bit.”
"Are you hiding?" He asked, his voice low. God, he knew you too well. Always the escapist, always running away when it got too much. And he’d always dragged you right back.
"Maybe." You admitted.
There was a pause, thick and heavy. You couldn't hold his gaze anymore. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes, you wished he’d leave, wished he couldn’t see how close you were to breaking.
Breathe.
Breathe.
You couldn't.
"Stop."
You blinked at him, it came out breathless. "What?"
"Don't.” He repeated. “I know what you're doing."
"I'm not doing anything—"
"No. You're shutting yourself out."
"What's that even supposed to–"
"And you're angry at me. You're looking at me like you're angry at me. I can tell. " He said, frowning as the realization came across him. Confused. "Why are you angry at me?"
You didn't know what to say. You stared at him as his gray eyes searched your face for an answer. An answer you didn't know yourself. The more he looked at you and the more you looked at him, the more you felt the strange lack of air in your chest rise.
What do you tell him? You could always lie. Tell him it's nothing. He's seeing things. You couldn't think. But no matter what you made up, he'd see through you anyways.
You did feel angry.
Were you angry at him? You thought. Not really. Anger was the last emotion you felt. Not towards him.
Did a part of you blame Levi for this whole shit? Yes, you did. As unreasonable as it was, you did. You hated that Levi wasn't there. You hated that you had to face this alone, how vulnerable you'd felt without him. And you hated that, maybe if he was there, so many less people might've died. It might've been so much easier.
You might cry.
You weren't angry.
But you were scared. You were terrified. You were traumatized. You couldn't breathe. And you wished he'd stop looking at you like that for fucks sake.
"I'm not angry at you. Why would I be angry at you?" You mumbled, the bitterness in your voice so obvious.
"That's what I'm asking."
"Well, I'm not. Your people reading skills are questionable."
"People reading skills? Yes, perhaps." He agreed quietly, looking down at you. "You though? I've known you way too long. So why the fuck are you angry?"
"Because you weren't there, you dumbfuck!" You yelled, the words rushing out before you could even have a chance to stop them. There were angry tears running down your cheek and you pressed your blood covered hands to your mouth to stop yourself from letting the choked sob come out. He was right. You were angry. Not angry at him, but you felt rage, and you had to let it out.
"Couldn't have found a better time to get your stupid injury, could you?" Your voice cracked. "You just had to not be there the only time I needed you!" He looked so hurt, you realized. His brows furrowed together as he watches you, listening quietly as you threw words at him you didn't even mean. Cruel, cruel, cruel. He looked so hurt. And confused. He didn't deserve this. You needed to stop.
Everything you went through today, every bit of fear you'd experienced, everytime you'd felt helpless, everytime you'd wished he was there only to find he wasn't, every gruesome, bloody memory was tangling up in your chest, demanding to get out. It burned you down. If you didn't let it out, you'd turn into ashes here.
"What's the point," You bit the words out, "What's the point of being so fucking strong? Of being humanity's fucking strongest or whatever? Tell me what the bloody point if you can't even be there when we need you?"
"I'm so fucking mad at you," You whispered angrily. "So fucking mad." You were gasping between the words. You needed to stop. You needed to breathe. "I could punch you." You rasped. "I can't even look at you, I can't even—"
You didn't get to finish what you were going to say, because then Levi was down on his knees in an instant, pulling you into him. You struggled, your instincts still jumpy from the last hour, pushing against him and trying to peer away. But he was stronger than he ever was and he held you close, pressing your head to his shoulder.
Your breath hitched, your words coming to a stop as a choke came out. You could feel his heartbeat. It was slow, calming down your own. Breathe.
You weren't angry anymore.
Suddenly, all the rage left your body, the adrenaline rush had died down and you melted right into him. Now all you felt was sadness. Unbearable sadness. There was a void in your heart, empty and cold, and it kept reminding you of everything that had happened today.
"I thought—" you whispered, "I thought we were gonna die.” Your voice cracked as the quiet confession left you. The words were stumbling out of you, a desperate attempt to make him understand. He had to understand. “I was so, so scared, Levi." Your fingers dig into his shirt and you were almost gasping. "And then—and then fucking Erwin almost died and—and everything started going dipshit and I—I thought we were all gonna die and that's the end of it. And I was—I was—"
"Breathe," He whispered in your ear, reminding you. So uncharacteristically gentle. "Breathe. It's over. You're not there anymore.
It was the softness in his voice you think. Like he understood. Like he knew exactly why you were here and how he got you here. There was all the patience in the world when he spoke, all the kindness. It finally broke you. You tried to inhale but there was a tight knot in your throat and it constricted with every tight inhale, as if your lungs were squeezing themselves. Breathe, he said. You had to breathe.
But it was so hard to. Instinctively, you latched onto him, clinging to him desperately as your lungs fought for air. You were drowning and he was the last solid thing. If he let you go now you would fall. You would cease. You would break. You buried your face in his chest. Warmth. He was so warm. Always so warm. And it was so cold there, you thought you might never feel this again.
He felt so very much like home.
"You weren't there." You whispered accusingly. You hated him. "You weren't there, Levi."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You weren't there and I was scared that I was gonna die alone. I hate that you weren't there, I wish you were there because–"
"I know." He repeated. "Hush. You're okay. You're breathing. And you're filthy as fuck but you're alive."
That made you snort. You let out half a sob. "I got blood over you."
He didn't say anything, only pulled you closer in response.
"You're strong." He muttered softly as you let yourself melt into him. There was no more strength left in you. You could only focus on his voice and nothing else. "And brave. And Smart as fuck. I knew you'd be okay. That you'd come back. I always believed in you."
You soaked in his affirmations, the words soothing you. You rested your head on his shoulder and he did the same, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back.
"..I was so scared." You repeated again, closing your eyes. A soft shiver ran through you. "I was scared that I'd never get to see you again. And I never even got to say a proper goodbye."
"Mhm." He hummed softly. "But you're here now. That's what matters. I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I'm here now."
He was holding you so gently. Like you were made of glass. Delicate. Fragile. It's impossible to think that a cold man like him was even capable of such gentleness. You clung to him, wondering how could someone still be so kind after the words you had thrown towards him.
"I wasn't really mad at you," you mumbled after a while, your breathing still uneven.
"I know."
"I didn't mean what I said."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
Of course he did. He always did.
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lanawinterscigarettes · 7 months ago
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More Important (Greg House x reader x James Wilson)
Summary: you not feeling well is far more important than work in your boyfriends' eyes
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Warnings: the reader is sick/doesn't feel good but it isn't specified the reason why so it's pretty much up for interpretation, House and Wilson are both loving and worried boyfriends, kind of hurt/comfort given the themes, brief and mild swearing, they/them pronouns are used to refer to the reader one (1) time in a gender neutral manner
A/N: I felt awful when I woke up the other day and when I went back to sleep I had a dream with House and Wilson that ended up inspiring this fic
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When you woke up that morning, every muscle in your body ached as if someone had dropped a sack of bricks on you while you slept. As much as you wanted to just stay in bed, you unfortunately had to get up to use the bathroom.
House was still asleep next to you, letting out the occasional peaceful snore despite the time indicating he'd be late for work if he didn't wake up soon. Not that he cared.
Wilson was already up and ready, from what you could tell. That assumption was later confirmed when you stumbled to the bathroom, the sight before you making it seem as though your boyfriend was being serenaded by the sound of the blow dryer as he fixed his hair.
"Are you almost done? I need the bathroom," you mumbled groggily, leaning up against the side of the doorframe while you waited for him to finish.
"Well, good morning to you, too," He responded in a voice that was far too chipper for your taste given how early it was. "And yeah, almost." He shut off the blow dryer and turned to face you, his big brown eyes studying you with a slight look of concern. Being a doctor, of course he could recognize when something was physically wrong.
"Are you okay?" He tentatively asked, trying to approach the subject in a delicate manner. After all the time he'd spent with House he knew not everyone wanted to talk about their feelings or even admit when something was wrong.
"Yeah, 'm fine. Jus' have a slight headache." Technically it wasn't a full lie, as your head did hurt, but you were greatly underexaggerating the pain level in hopes he wouldn't worry.
Big mistake. Almost as soon as you shut the bathroom door did Wilson turn and head towards the bedroom with the full intent of waking up your other boyfriend.
By the time you were done, both House and Wilson were standing close together, presumably discussing your supposed symptoms, even if you couldn't hear what they were saying.
"I know you guys are talking about me," you grumbled out the accusation while shuffling back over to the bed. Wilson looked a bit guilty to be talking about something involving you behind your back, but House just seemed amused you still had the energy required to dish out snark despite not feeling good.
"Whatever led you to that conclusion?" House asked rhetorically. "We very well could've been discussing what traffic will be like on the way in to work, or our favorite romantic movies." At that, Wilson rolled his eyes in annoyance. House ignored him, finishing with, "Not everything is about you, y'know."
"Don't play dumb with me," was the only thing you could manage to get out as a response given how tired you were. Collapsing onto the bed, you curled under the covers in hopes that maybe all you needed was a couple hours of extra sleep.
Too exhausted for your brain to work properly, you only picked up bits and pieces of their conversation. From what you could tell, they were trying to decide whether or not they should stay home from work to look after you, and if so who it should be out of the two of them.
"I'll stay here with them. Just tell Cuddy I can't come in today because of a medical emergency," House offered while glancing over at your blanket clad form. As much as he acted like he didn't care, he didn't enjoy seeing you in pain, even if it was over something small.
"Are you sure?" Wilson questioned, just to double check in case he wanted to change his mind.
House nodded his head to confirm, uttering "yeah, I'm sure" in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
You heard the sound of footsteps approaching, feeling as Wilson leaned down to press a kiss to your face, murmuring the words "I have to go to work, but I'll be back soon". You just nodded, too weak to say anything more than a quiet "love you".
After he left, House made his way back over to the bed, gently nudging what he assumed to be your leg with his cane. "Move over," he commanded in his usual gruff manner that led little room for argument.
Obliging, you shifted over on the bed, giving him the space to lay down in his normal spot. "Sorry."
He let out a sigh as he got on the bed, feeling a little bad he was so rude given just how pathetic you looked. "It's fine."
The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke up again, your voice sounding a little hoarse. "I'm sorry you got stuck here with me. I'm sure you'd rather be doing anything else other than this."
As much as he didn't want to admit it, hearing you say that hurt his heart a little. Then again, he couldn't necessarily blame you for thinking that. "Not true. Why would I want to be in a hospital full of sick people I don't even like when I could be with only one sick person I can at least tolerate?"
You let out a snort of laughter, fully recognizing the jest in his tone. He obviously cared, the grumpy bastard, even if he didn't show it very often.
He felt accomplished when he heard your laugh, continuing in a softer and more genuine tone. "Besides, some things are more important, anyway."
"Mhm." Humming softly in agreement, you moved closer to him on the bed until your head was resting against his shoulder, making sure to give him the space to get up and stretch his leg if he needed to later on. "I love you."
A faint smile formed on his face at your words, one of his arms reaching over to wrap around you protectively. "I know." It was his own way of showing his love for you without having to say the words.
Feeling comfortable and safe in his arms, you must've dozed off because the next thing you remembered was being woken up by the sound of a door opening and shutting.
"Could you be any louder?" House's irritated voice rang out through your ears, the sound not being entirely unpleasant even if it did manage to wake you up more.
"Sorry," you heard Wilson apologize in a hushed tone. There's no way it was evening already, which meant he must've gotten off work early.
"What are you doing back here?" You called out, your voice sounding tired yet curious. "You're supposed to still be at work."
"I couldn't stay knowing you were home sick," he responded as he slipped under the covers next to you, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes first.
"Oh, sure, just forget all about me," House complained in mock offense, something that Wilson chose to outrightly ignore.
"But the hospital- I mean, you're the head of oncology, you can't just-"
"Some things are more important," Wilson gently cut off your worries, his hand reaching out to rest on top of yours.
"Hm, that sounds familiar," you muttered while giving House a look that said 'I know you two have been talking about me again'. He looked back as if he had no clue what your deal was.
"Go back to sleep, honey. We'll both still be here when you wake back up." It was hard to ignore the command of the oncologist next to you, especially when he spoke in such a low and soothing way.
"Okay," you agreed without a fight, snuggling comfortably into the arms of your two boyfriends as you closed your eyes and allowed sleep to overtake you yet again, starting to feel a lot better already.
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End notes: I feel like I'm not very good at writing fics with poly couples which is a damn shame because I really love doing it </3
Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open
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🏷 taglist: @pigeonmama
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alessioa · 1 year ago
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Lucy Bronze x Lioness!Reader
Head aches and a concerned Lucy
In which reader refuses to stay home even though Lucy isn't happy with it.
CW: Migraines? Passing out
Kind of based on this request.
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Migraines, a funny thing that was. One moment you could feel kind of fine and the next your head was filled with unbearable pain to the point where it felt as if  you would throw up and pass out. Those moments were the worst. 
So when you woke up to the aching in your head and nausea you tried your best to get out of bed without waking Lucy. She had told you countless times that you should wake her, but no. 
Slowly you made your way to the bathroom as it felt as if you were about to throw up. In there you passed out in front of the toilet.
When Lucy woke up she felt your side of the bed and it was cold and you were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n” she whispered, then repeated herself but louder as you didn’t answer. She got worried and began to look around the house, kitchen empty, living room empty, office empty. When she finally found you - you were still passed out in the bathroom.
Lucy carefully shook your body to wake you up. When your  eyes  began to flutter a pained groan left your throat as you regained consciousness the pain came hurling back and it felt as if someone was hitting the inside of your head with a hammer. 
Lucy looked at you a little worried that you might have injured yourself or something. “What happened” she asked when it looked like you were present. “Migraines” you whispered, not wanting to talk too loudly because then the pain in your head would be amplified. 
“Oh baby, you know that you can wake me up. Why didn’t you?” she seemed so concerned when she asked the question that you  almost felt guilty for not waking her. “Didn’t wanna be a bother” you mumbled, not proud of yourself for it. 
“Okay, but next time please let me know. How about I call Sarina and tell her that we are sick, I don’t think that you can train today”. At that you quickly shook your head, you couldn’t afford to miss training because it was your first call up to the national team and you didn’t want to risk anything.
“No, I’m fine. I can train today” you answered, your voice as steady as you could make it. “Y/n” Lucy warned, she really didn’t like that you dismissed your pain so quickly. “I said I’m fine, now leave it. I will train today” you answered with a harsh tone. 
Maybe training wasn’t the best choice today. You tried your best but with the other girls around and their loud volume they didn’t really help the pain in your head. And apparently Lucy had told Sarina too as she didn’t push you too hard and it was clear that she focused on you quite a lot during the day. But so was Lucy. She was always around and she tried her best to quiet the girls, it was not as successful as she wanted but it did help a little bit. 
Alessia and Ella were two of the loudest in camp, they were always together and often brought you along. And you usually did stuff with them, but they didn’t seem to catch the memo when you tried to ignore them as they didn’t exactly take your pain away but almost made it worse with their loud voices and laughter. Luckily you were saved by the trainers calling the team out on the field for a scramble. 
After a 7v7 game the pain in your head had  not passed and now on top of that you were exhausted. That unfortunately led to you passing out in the middle of the field, scaring your teammates who called the medics on quickly when you didn’t respond to them or move. 
Lucy felt guilty, she knew the reason for you passing out being your migraines and exhaustion. She should have fought harder to keep you home and maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. 
When the medics assured  everyone that you weren’t injured they brought you into the medical room where they waited for you to wake up. When you did, Lucy was by your side holding your hand. She looked so concerned. 
“Maybe I should have stayed home” you said, catching her attention as she hadn’t noticed  that you had woken up. “You should have stayed home” she agreed.
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soldearestsoulmate · 5 days ago
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Inspired by the Bad End of the game.
Something small. Angst time. (and venting I guess. depression rocks lol)
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The sound of the clock ticking that hung on the wall always sounded loudest in these moments.
He hated it, but Sol endured it. Since he had no choice after all.
He silently waited in his seat for the woman sitting across from him to finish looking through his book...His book full of drawings, sketches, of what he made this week.
She hummed lowly, closely looking at one of the drawings. "I see you drew them again...Quite the memory you have to have picked up all their details, Mr. Brugmansia."
Sol didn't respond to that...He was used to hearing this by now. How many times has these sessions happened? He lost count...
"The rest however...You still can't let that day go, I see...The more you cling to that day. The less likelihood we can make progress on your healing to be released, you know?"
Now Sol let out a low chuckle, it sounded forced, and exhausted.
"You know I'm never getting out of here, doctor..." He spoke with a look that said it all...He was tired, drained...but not because of these sessions, these repeated days.
No...He was tired of living these days without them...
Without you...
"...Then I guess there's no point in this session then. I can skip straight to filling out the paper work for your medica--"
"NO! Please...Just...Can you not do it...This once? Please? I...I rarely can feel not numb anymore since coming here. It's...You don't understand how horrible it feels...To feel like a zombie...A stranger in your own body...It's like..."
"I completely understand, Mr. Brugmansia. That only means the medication is working. It's for your own good. You don't want a repeat of what happened last time, after all...Right?"
Sol looked down at his lap, his hands clenched into fists as he remembered. It wasn't his fault those bastards said that stuff about you. They deserved it...Deserved having their heads bashed in...and put into comas. It was all for you.
The woman opened his sketchbook again, and flipped through a few pages until stopping on one.
"May I ask why you drew him in color this time?" She showed the page...Which had Crowe in it...Usually he'll be colored in black and white or in red...for blood.
"...I had my reasons..."
"Speak then."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me." She leaned back in her seat, getting her pen and clipboard ready, prepared to write and take down notes.
Sol sighed and then spoke. "...The night the medication wore off earlier than usual...I had a dream again...A vivid one...I saw them again, but they were...They looked and felt so real. I didn't want to wake up...Not be away from them again..." He smiled at the memory, then paused, his smile fading. "Though they asked me of something. I hated it...I hated the request, but for them...I did it. It was for them..."
"Mhm...By "them", you mean Y/n correct?" Sol nodded lightly. Hearing their name spoken made his heart ache.
"...They said they love the way I bring color and life through my art...That's why I draw them a lot...To--"
"To bring them back to life." She felt pity for the man before him, but not enough. Especially after knowing what he done.
"They wanted to see...Ichabod...with life again...Even after I took it, they asked of me to bring it back, bring him back." He gave a smile, desperation in his eyes as he looked at her. "THAT HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING, RIGHT?! THAT MEANS THEY STILL LOVE ME AND TRUST ME! THEY'RE WATCHING ME! WAITING FOR ME! MY PUMPKIN! MY SOULMATE LOVES ME! EVEN AFTER WHAT HAPPENED, THEY UNDERSTOOD, AND KNEW I DID IT FOR THEM! FOR US!! THEY LOVE ME!!"
It'll be a lie to say she wasn't startled by his outburst, especially with the crazed look in his eyes, but worked to remain calm in her seat. Until he looked to calm himself with a lovestruck smile over his own delusion of what he thought that dream meant. Over believing you actually spoke to him...and met him again.
"...Of course you did, Solivan...Of course." She wrote down a few more things, then clicked her pen shut. "Our session is over now. Please, do eat your food tonight, Mr. Brugmansia. As well, get plenty of rest."
After Sol left the room, with cuffed hands and escorted out by some men, like always. Luckily with no fight this time like the other times.
The woman sighed and rubbed her eyes in frustration. "He's not showing signs of improvement...His delusions truly have a tight hold on him...A change of medication might be best...or a higher dosage..."
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weemietime · 3 months ago
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There isn't a whole lot of content on Tumblr about schizoid personality disorder so I thought I would make a little informational post. SZPD is a cluster A personality disorder, of the odd/eccentric cluster alongside schizotypal and paranoid. It is on the schizophrenia spectrum, and comprises the negative rather than positive symptoms of schizophrenia.
This primarily means we have avolition, catatonia, flat/blunted affect (demeanor), limited interoception (emotional sensations), lack of bonds to others including primary family members, and indifference to the opinions of others.
Whilst this isn't a diagnostic criteria, many of us are also asexual and aromantic, meaning we don't want to have sex with other humans (but usually do masturbate) and have no interest in romantic companionship.
My most disabling symptom is avolition, because I have comorbid ADHD. This means when I don't have my medication (dextromethorphan 120mg) I just sit there and zone out and can't even hold a conversation or move my body, nor even do things like feed myself. It is genuinely crippling and I am unemployed because of this, even though my meds help, they don't cure me and I need a lot of time alone.
Schizoid is something of an "anti-human" disorder, because we fail to form basic social bonds with others including primary caregivers. As a child I got diagnosed with inhibited RAD because I could not tolerate human contact. This differs from autism because autistic people generally want to socialize, they just lack the skills. I don't want to socialize and it takes tremendous effort for me to do so.
To even make this post I had to wait for my meds to click in as I was just sitting there mindlessly beforehand. While we have low internal sensations of emotions like caring, love, happiness, trust, sadness, etc. we aren't typically antisocial/dissocial and don't have a pattern of exploiting others or dishonesty. This requires too much effort.
There is a schizoid version of narcissism but it is separate to narcissistic personality disorder. NPD is characterized by a very fragile ego. You can't contradict or disagree with NPD because they are unable to regulate the emotions caused by conflict. Conversely, SZPD does not care about the opinions of others at all and places little value on them.
Our sense of superiority is legitimate, meaning we just do genuinely believe we are smarter than other people. So your mileage may vary on how insufferable you find that. I recognize this trait in myself and work to actively challenge it since it is illogical for me to think I am more special than anyone else. But, my ego is very stable, so criticism doesn't bother me the way it would in NPD.
Interoception means the sensations you feel inside your body. We lack this, so even stuff like hunger and tiredness don't impact us until we are very hungry or extremely exhausted. I don't have the feeling you would to look at a family member and get a sense of love or trust. I have a logical sense of obligation that I developed through choosing what I value based on reason. I describe this as care, and I place importance on my friendships, but there is no emotional component to this, it is all cognitive.
Tangentially: I'm somewhat of an optimistic nihilist, believing that there is no grand purpose to existence. Yes, even as a religious person. I don't think G-d ultimately has a purpose either, as an agent of the universe. (I don't believe G-d created the universe.) We have a human nervous system, so we base our rubric for morality on suffering and decide what is meaningful both collectively and individually.
I don't believe in true freedom of will (but I do believe we have agency), because we know that Bereitschaftspotential or reaction potentials occur in the brain up to two seconds before we become conscious of a volitional desire. Our consciousness occurs because of quantum synchronicity in the brain, so our free will is in a bit of an in-between state rather than fully determined or fully free.
So, we are not born deciding "I'm going to be an abuser," that happens because of brain abnormalities. It's no different than the forces of creation and destruction at work like a virus infecting a host cell. I don't place much importance on concepts of self-hood, I view myself as the electrical and chemical processes that occur in my brain, which happen without my choosing, that I can influence and impact through my own agency.
Anyway, these are just some basic schizoid meanderings for you all and I hope that this was informative or interesting in some way. Peace.
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gardenofnoah · 4 months ago
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it was never ending (pt. 1)
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wc: 5.3k (pt. 1 only) tags (whole series): bakugou x reader, oc character death (not reader), grief, healing, found family, getting together, slow (medium?) burn, child rearing, descriptions of pregnancy, morning sickness, friends to lovers, confessions, eventual smut
notes: i've had the idea for this in my drafts for the last 82 years. i blacked out and wrote this whole thing in like 12 hours. fingers crossed for the same motivation demon to visit me in my sleep for part 2.
summary: when the father of your child passes away suddenly, you get by with a little help from your friends (and a really intense Bakugou).
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There was a part of you that already knew, as soon as the phone rang. At 7pm, there was no reason to assume it wasn't benign, like your mother calling to confirm what you'd already told her you'd bring to brunch the following weekend.
It wasn't, though. You knew it wouldn't be.
The drive is something that happens to someone else. You see it in flashes. Distantly, you think that it's probably not safe, driving in this state with an infant in the backseat. But you don't really have another option—or at least not one that occurs to you.
A nurse—a young woman, who can't be any older than early twenties—meets you in the lobby. She's practiced in her stoicism. There is no forced smile, no apologies—just a quiet invitation to follow her. She leads you with a hand on your elbow, like she's expecting you, too, to collapse, down a series of hallways that you don't bother to notice. You wonder how long she's been doing this, and what the impact of it might be on someone so young.
A doctor is waiting for you in the room. He immediately launches into a lengthy, medical term-laden explanation of the two hours prior to your arrival. You hear none of it, and you're not even looking at him.
Behind him, a thin sheet covers the body of the father of the child in your arms.
-
You turn your phone off.
You have to, really. The barrage of well-intentioned but poorly timed (and often poorly worded) texts and calls and emails renders the thing unusable.
The number of days that've passed between today and the hospital are of little consequence to you. You've survived on autopilot for however many have passed but the bone-deep exhaustion you feel has spread deeper still. Through the wall, Kaede cries, but there's nothing left in you to get your body to move. Kaede, named so at her father's request.
She was an angry thing, born with no small amount of indignancy at the act of bringing her earthside, against her will. She was red and raging for the first several months of her life, and while it exhausted you, Takeshi had taken it in stride.
"My darling girl," you'd hear him through the monitor, cooing to your daughter as she pitched a fit for the umpteenth time that night, "it won't always be so bad."
How would you convince her of the truth in that now?
The sound of knuckles against your front door jars you out of your half-consciousness. It seems it's only a courtesy, though, because you hear it open immediately after. It dawns on you that you haven't thought to check if it was locked since you've been home. Regrettable, especially now. Some distant alarm ringing in your mind tells you that should be concerned that someone has just entered your home, but there's a wall up right now. In an effort to keep you safe, your brain has blocked out everything.
Through the wall, a voice coos to your daughter. You recognize it as Mina's, and you let out a quiet breath. You brain loosens its grasp for an instant and relief floods you. You'll get up and thank her, when you can.
There is a chorus of voices, telling you that there is more than one person in your house right now, but in the absence of a threat, your eyes flutter closed. The door to your bedroom opens, and you blink hard at the light that seeps in over the massive body in your doorway.
The door closes just as quickly, and in the darkness, the body moves around the room to the other side of the bed—the empty one. There is a weight—your body dips with it minutely, and then settles again. You close your eyes, this time to relieve the sting you feel for the first time since getting home. With another breathing body as its witness, the grief hits you so suddenly you can taste it.
"Katsuki," you whimper, feeling him at your back. Familiar arms reach for you, pull you in.
"Y'r alright," he murmurs, pressing the underside of his jaw into your hair. The pressure on all sides squeezes something loose in you. You suck in a gasping breath, and then it leaves you—broken apart and limp. He holds you while you cry���keeps you there, tethered only to him in this storm.
_
Once the hurt comes, it lingers.
You suppose you can be grateful for that. People do crazy things under the burden of pent up emotion, and you can't afford to come unglued. Not like that, anyway. But while grief pulls you apart in different directions, your friends flit around your peripheral. You'd feel guilty if you could—for not being able to do what you should be able to—but few things get past the mountain of mourning that keeps you pinned to your bed.
They seem to have worked out shifts among themselves. Mina in the morning to get Kaede up and fed, Kirishima and Denki in the evening to get her bathed and ready for bed. Izuku comes around most afternoons with rattle toys and books to keep her engaged, talking and playing to keep her brain developing in your absence. Shielding her from this.
Katsuki doesn't leave.
He sleeps on the couch. Or you assume he does—you've not ventured out of your bed for much of anything. He's in and out of your room during the day, always with little meals or water or reminding you to shower, to get up and walk around the room if you can. It's hard and you cry often, but right now he's not his brash, abrasive self. He's gentler than you've ever seen him, a hand at your back to steady you, his voice low and grounding.
Your relationship with Katsuki is complicated, but not in a bad way. You'd met him, along with the rest of the group, in college. The civilian track at UA landed you a cushy office job—one you promptly turned down due to Katsuki's outrage at you working anywhere that wasn't with him. He'd gotten you a job as a resource coordinator at Jeanist's agency—which was something you found you really enjoyed. Your quirk was less than impressive—similar to Shouto's but not nearly as powerful, you could really only bring tea just shy of a boil. It certainly wouldn't be saving anyone's life, but in this role, you could help. Displaced families needed temporary housing, victims of violence needed access to affordable counseling, the injured needed connected to hearing aids and wheelchairs and prosthetics, ongoing care.
It was hard work, but you felt a certain privilege in being the one to do it. It was an honor to walk along side someone in their most vulnerable moments, and you tried to do it with as much grace and compassion as you could. When Katsuki was big enough to start his own agency, you followed him there. He gave you room to grow, and now, you head a team of community crisis response workers.
You haven't thought about work since the hospital. It's fascinating, how quickly something that matters so deeply to you can leave your mind. Katsuki hasn't mentioned it—in fact, he's not said much of anything, aside from his quiet prompting every few hours. You know that he's only doing what seems so inherent to him, and if you had the energy to, you'd tell him to go home—to take a break. The energy isn't there, though—all you can do is follow his directives to keep yourself alive.
Katsuki has always been protective of you. You're not sure when it started. You'd always been drawn to him, and there was seldom a time when you were somewhere that he wasn't. Your mother took to making up the spare bed for him when you'd come home for weekends and holidays, because it was a guarantee that he'd follow you through the screen door like a shadow. In your third year, she started asking, not so in jest, when the wedding would be.
When you met Takeshi, it was a surprise to everyone. But he was kind, and personable, and the newly-pro heroes adopted him into the fold.
Takeshi knew what Katsuki meant to you, and you were grateful for his patience. While his relationship with you was neatly defined, a specific box in your heart with his name on it—Katsuki was not. He was in everything that you were, and it was something that Takeshi chose not to interfere with. You're certain it was difficult, but he took it in stride.
He really was a kind man.
Within a year of being together, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—but what news filled you with terror, Takeshi received with utter delight. You were only a year out of college and in no way financially stable, but his joy left an impression on you. With each day, your child grew, and so did your tentative excitement. Takeshi was through the roof—as were your heroes.
Katsuki was the one to figure it out first. You'd been absent from a few of the group's weekly dinners at the bar in town. When you finally showed up, dressed in a big hoodie that covered most of you, you'd politely declined all offers of beer and stuck to stealing fries off of his plate.
"You pregnant?" he'd asked, not bothering to lower his voice. You blinked up at him, caught of guard.
"I—uh. Yeah."
You could've heard a pin drop, with how silent the table had fallen. You lowered your eyes—uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed—and reached for another fry. Mina broke the silence first.
"Oh my god!" she'd shrieked, already in tears. The rest of your friends followed in suit, cheering and reaching for you across the table in some strange attempt at a hug, at comfort.
You'd looked back up to Katsuki, who'd been strangely quiet. His eyes held a question—something undeniably concerned.
"It's okay," you told him, smiling softly. Squeezing his knee under the table, you couldn't miss how tense the muscle felt under your hand. "Honest."
_
A month crawls by, and you find that you can't sleep in your bed anymore.
After a few, agonizing hours of tossing and turning, and pointedly avoiding the other side of the bed, enough is enough. You stumble in the dark to the living room, trying your hardest to be quiet. It's your sniffling that wakes him up.
"Y'alright?" slurred, endearing. It would make you smile if you weren't crying. You shake your head, though his eyes aren't open to see it.
"Move over," you whisper, already pulling the blanket out from under his hip. Katsuki shifts, rolling to his side and lifting an arm for you to slot yourself underneath.
His heart beat, steady and slow, taps against your temple. You close your eyes and imagine the shape of it—the chambers that expand and contract and keep him alive. The wave of gratitude is immense and sudden and brings another sting to your eyes.
He doesn't go back to sleep—you can tell by his breathing.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, watery and broken. The arm around your waist tightens.
"Enough." His voice is gravely with sleep, but that's not all that's there. There's an edge to it, and you know that he's worried. "Try t'sleep."
_
Takeshi had made it a habit to talk with Kaede before she was born.
Each night, he would shuffle down the bed and speak softly to your growing stomach, filling her in on the events of the day.
"We wanted to go on a picnic today, but you made your mother sick." He'd pat your belly, shaking his head with a tsk. "That wasn't very nice, little girl."
Pregnancy was hard. You'd wished to be like those women that glow—that love being pregnant, that feel all connected to their bodies and the earth and the universe and whatever—but it was awful. Your ankles swelled and your back ached and you were sick all of the time.
Takeshi worked a 9-5 job outside the city, so Katsuki would stop by to check on you. It became something like a routine. You'd spend all morning throwing up, and then Katsuki would stop by and spend most of the afternoon here, feeding you anti-nausea medication and small bites of food (you'd really only wanted toast, which would launch Katsuki into a several minute tirade about how you'd kill yourself and the baby if you didn't eat a god damned vegetable. This was also part of your routine).
Katsuki's quirk was surprisingly helpful. It took some convincing ("You're not going to fry the baby Katsuki, Jesus Christ,"), but you found that if you had a layer between you, his hands could act as a high-powered heating pad. He'd sit behind you on the floor, one hand on your lower back, the other scrolling through his phone. You'd keep your head between your knees to stave of the nausea.
"You nervous?"
It was the first time he'd really asked. You rested your cheek on your knee, looking back to catch the blonde spikes of his hair in your peripheral.
"Honestly? Yeah. Really nervous."
He'd hummed, something noncommittal and gruff. You let the silence stretch on for another moment before breaking it again.
"I'm worried I'm going to poop on the table."
He'd snorted, and you could feel the eye roll from behind you. "That's what y'r worried about?"
"I mean, yeah. And the possibility of irreparably fucking up my child, I guess."
He'd gone quiet again, and you'd let your eyes close. Content for the moment.
"You'll do fine," he'd said, too quiet for him. The heat spread wider, his other hand joining the first at the small of your back. Kneading softly. "Kid's got a good mom."
_
She sits in front of you now, her chunky legs kicking wildly inside the cloth seat of her jumper. You watch her little toes feel out the ridged bottom, curling around the textures. It might be the first time since Takeshi died that you have really spent time with your child.
Kaeda grunts around the teething ring in her mouth, gurgling happily as Mina sits next to her—pink fingers pressing light up buttons on the tray to catch your daughter's eye. It works for a few seconds, but you sniff, and Kaeda's eyes find you.
"Dah!" the teething ring goes flying as she reaches for you, her head not quite catching up to the jerky movements of her body.
You smile at her, and the stretch of it feels foreign. "Hi, my baby."
It's effort, but you stand, reaching to grab under her armpits and hoist her out of her seat. Her fingers tangle in the strands of your hair. She seems bigger—heavier than she was before. It makes your chest ache. She sits on your hip as you spin her slowly, a sort of sashay around the perimeter of the rug.
"My big girl. Have you had fun with Mina?"
Katsuki watches you with lazy interest from his spot on the couch. Mina immediately busies herself with another task—folding blankets, cleaning up toys. You don't waste your breath telling her she doesn't have to. You'd already tried once, and she waved you off like a pesky fly.
"I'm not doing this because I have to, honey," she reminded you, not bothering to look up from pulling clothes out of the washing machine. "I want to."
At seven months, Kaeda has started to crawl. Or, sort of. It's more like an army crawl, with her little legs propelling her, in a way, across the ground. She gets antsy in your arms, and fusses to be put down.
"I hear ya, I hear ya," you murmur softly, bending to guide her to the soft ground. "Go nuts."
She does, squirming her way across the rug—right to Katsuki. She reaches where his arm hangs over the edge of the couch—and gives it a good, solid smack, her little palm splayed open across his skin.
"What th—y'little brat—"
He peers over the couch at her, and she squeals, clearly enamored by the game she's forced him into. She tries it again—winds up, determined, with her arm up by her head—but he snatches it up before it lands. This time it's a screech that leaves her, all of the air pushed out of her lungs to make room for the belly laugh that she dissolves into when he makes a big show of eating her grubby little fingers.
It was never a surprise to you that Katsuki was so good with Kaede. It was unexpected, though, how much he wanted to be around her. You'd asked about it once, after spending several moments watching him carry her around like a football and seemingly enjoying it, and he'd only shrugged.
"She's cooler than you, so."
You'd laughed, only a little indignant, shoving him lightly. He'd hissed at you to be careful, don't you see the fuckin' baby here, which made you laugh harder. It was absurd, this wall of a man toting around a tiny, slobbering infant.
She was just as enamored with him. She would seek him out anytime he was in her line of vision, often fighting her way out of your grasp to get to him. It reminded you of the way cats seem to flock to the one person that doesn't like cats—she'd picked the meanest looking man in the room and latched on.
Like mother, like daughter, you suppose.
_
"Do you have a name picked out?"
It was late—your head hung off the edge of the bed, which seemed to be the only position that didn't send acid reflux straight up your throat, oddly enough. Takeshi sat up at the other end, your feet in his lap while he pressed his thumbs into the soles of them.
"No," you told him honestly, "truthfully, I'm drawing a blank."
He'd hummed, hands moving up to get at your swollen ankles. "What about Kaede?"
"Kaede," you rolled the syllables around in your mouth, testing the shape of it. It felt nice. "How come?"
"I just—want her to be strong." It was thoughtful as it left him, hanging around in the air above your heads. "I want her to be like a maple tree."
"Like a tree," you repeated dryly, making him snort.
"You know! Like, rooted and strong. But able to change and sway in the wind, all that."
"Wow," you breathed, smiling, "you are so corny."
He sputtered, trying to defend himself, "It's not corny—!"
"Alright, alright," you reached down to pat the duvet, trying to placate him from afar, "Kaede. I like it."
_
Katsuki was the first one in the room after Kaede was born.
It was—unconventional—and you were made well aware of that by the open gawking of the nurses, but Takeshi didn't mind. You felt some guilt, fueled by the reaction of those around you, and told him as much.
"I'll have the rest of my life to hold her," he'd said. "I'll go grab him."
How sad it was to remember that moment now.
You'd closed your eyes for only a moment before you were stirred by a familiar hand on the crown of your head. You'd blinked and were startled to find him visibly concerned.
"You look like shit," he'd said, tilting your head to each side, as if to check for injury. It made you smile.
"Yeah, well, you push a watermelon out of the smallest orifice in your body and let me know how you feel."
He'd gagged, which made you laugh, which hurt.
"Oh, don't do that," you exhaled, long and controlled, "Everything hurts."
He'd gone quiet for a moment, watching you shift and settle back into the bed, wires and leads twisting and clanging off the plastic railing.
"Y'r okay?"
It made you smile. "I am. She's so beautiful, Kat. I can almost forgive her for totally wrecking me on the way out."
As if on queue, the child in question let out a grunt from her spot in the little plastic cradle—moving like a grub, swaddled. He looked at you for another long moment before rising to see for himself. He stopped, too far from the crib, and bent at the waist for a better view. You snorted.
"You can get closer, Katsuki. It's fine."
Another step toward her and he'd stopped again, clearly maxed out on his own comfort. The smile pulled at your cheeks so tightly that it ached.
He looked back at you, and then again to her. It was comical, how fascinated he'd seemed by the tiny person in front of him. And then, over his shoulder—
"You shit the bed?"
You groaned, bringing your hand up to cover your face, mindful of the IV. "I think I did."
His laugh was a crackling thing, echoing around the sterile walls of your room, and Kaede didn't stir at all.
_
When you step foot outside, it's immediately apparent how long it'd been since you last did.
It's a sort of sensory overload—the bright light and the birds and the passing cars and the knowledge that someone has been keeping up with your lawn while you rotted away inside.
From the shaky lines that cut into the grass at odd angles, you have a hunch it was Denki.
Mina accompanies you to the mailbox, as requested. Her arm, strong and assuring, looped through yours as she all but drags you down the short drive to the edge of the road.
You open the box, and immediately shut it.
All of it is for Takeshi.
"Oh sh—sugar," Mina hisses, as if you were not an adult with a fully formed (and often colorful) vocabulary. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't think about that."
You shake your head. It's an inevitable thing that you don't have the energy to waste the tears on. "Will you sit with me?"
You end up on the porch swing, the metal springs above your head creaking with each suspended shove of your toe off the porch. It's a nice day, you think, trying hard not to find that particularly egregious.
Inside, you hear the squeal of your daughter, followed by the grumbling of Katsuki. It sounds a bit like a lecture that Kaede seems to think is hilarious. Another laugh—this time Denki.
"I'm really glad you're all here," you say eventually, quiet under the buzz of the world around you. "I know it's hard to put your own lives on hold."
She reaches for you, threading your fingers together and pulling them into her lap. "It's not hard at all. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. I know the boys feel the same."
You lean your head against her shoulder, the gentle swaying lulling you somewhere else—on a beach, maybe. With the wind in your hair and salt on your lips. Anywhere but the home that your child's dead father haunts.
"Has Bakugou left at all?"
You snort. "I don't think so."
She sighs, shaking her head. You can hear the smile in it. "He's a real mother hen, that one."
You smile, feeling fond. A mother hen, and your protector.
The breeze turns colder, and Mina shivers. You focus your quirk into the hand she holds—the first time you've used it in quite some time.
She sighs. "God, that's nice. Way better than Blasty's in there."
Her chin presses into the crown of your head when she opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it again. Suddenly she's a little tense, like she's trying to build up her nerve.
"You can say it," you offer gently.
"I was just wondering if you'd stay here."
You've thought about it. It's been hard not too, with the way you can barely get yourself to open your bedroom door at this point. You'd spent every night on the couch with Bakugou since that night.
"No." You speak quietly, as if it's a secret between you. It feels strange to say it out loud. You think, if Takeshi is lingering, you don't want him to hear this. "I just—I don't know where to go. We'd planned to raise her here."
Here, in the home that you love. In the home that you can't bear to spend one more night in.
"Did he have..." She trails off, reconsidering. "I mean, did you get a..."
"Yes," you say, already knowing what she's asking. "I was paid out last week. I put all of it away in an account for Kaede." You sigh, sitting up to straighten out the kink that now exists in your neck. "With my job, we're fine. It's more...the principle of the thing. This is her home."
Mina squeezes your hand gently. "She's a baby, honey. She won't remember it. This was your home."
You tilt your head back, willing away the sting of fresh tears and the irritation you feel at having done so well today until this point.
"Yeah," you sniff, closing your eyes, "it was."
_
Time passes in waves. Slowly, creeping, and then all at once.
The longer you're in the house, the more you realize you can't stay. You are certain of it, the first time you're left alone.
Katsuki had stepped out to grab dinner. You'd all but shoved him out the door, assuring him that you'd be fine for the 20 minutes it took to pick the food up.
"Y'need anything, you call." It was the fourth or fifth time he'd said it to you.
"Alright, alright," you tell him, trailing down the front steps behind him. "I will, I promise."
When you shut the door behind you again, there's a feeling of lethality to it—a debilitating silence that you haven't heard in four months.
You don't want to go any further into the house. You do, only to grab Kaede, and then you're right back outside. It starts to rain, and it feels fitting. You sit under the awning behind your daughter as she sticks her toes out into the drizzle, curling them with each drop that falls on her skin. You think about how overwhelming it must be as a baby—how new everything is.
It's less than 15 minutes later when Katsuki pulls into the driveway. He's out of his truck and in front of you in record time, frowning at you like he already knows something's wrong. Kaede reaches for him, and he scoops her up like it's muscle memory. He waits for you to talk. A moment passes.
"I can't be here anymore," you whisper, shaky. He looks at Kaede for a long moment, like she could have something offer on the topic.
"Alright," he says, reaching for the front door with his free hand, "pack a bag."
_
It takes you longer than you thought it would. You'll be back—you have to come back, because you can't take everything right now—but it feels final. The beginning of the true end. There's a framed picture of you and Takeshi at your baby shower on your nightstand. You consider taking it with you—instead, you turn it face down and move on.
By the time you manage to shove a hoodie, some shorts, a few pairs of underwear and your toiletries into a bag, Katsuki has already packed two bags for Kaede and put her in her carrier. You just look at him, wholly dumbfounded.
"You good?"
You look at him for another beat. "Yeah, fine."
_
The drive to Katsuki's isn't long. You follow him in your car, not wanting to leave it in your driveway. Kaede is with Katsuki, something you didn't fight him on.
You spend 10 of the 15 minute drive flipping through radio stations before you finally turn it off. You're left in silence, and you're now well and truly alone for the first time since Takeshi died.
You suck in a breath, trying to dislodge the thing that has lived in your chest everyday since.
"You knew something was wrong," you say, out loud, to no one. "You knew something was wrong, and you didn't tell me."
You picture him next you—mouth opening to respond, to defend himself. You beat him to it.
"It was preventable," your heart breaks again. "There was no reason—"
You'd tried to keep this at bay—the knowledge that Takeshi's death was meaningless. You hadn't heard a word the doctor said, but you'd read the pathologist's report. It was too hard, too much to process with everything else that needed tended to, but your brain seems to take advantage of every quiet moment you get.
"You left her without a father," your breath comes ragged, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to make up for the tears that threaten to block out your vision, "you—you left me,"
With impeccable timing, no sooner than you pull into Katsuki's apartment complex and park do you dissolve completely, curling in on yourself in your seat. It's crushing, this grief and this anger together inside a body that surely cannot hold all of it.
You don't see Katsuki when he approaches your driver's side door. You don't see him when he hesitates, one arm holding Kaede and the other outstretched as if you grab hold of you and pull you from your suffering himself. You don't see when he decides against it—when he turns around to leave you to do what you need to do on your own.
_
In a way, you start to feel lighter. Like something has shifted, like the boulder in your chest has fragmented just enough to let a breath through.
You get Kaede up on your own today. You let yourself linger over her, leaning on the side of the pack-n-play to watch her as she sleeps. Her little eyelashes frame her round cheeks, fluttering with whatever dream she's in the middle of.
The upturn of her nose, the slope of her forehead—these are things she gets from Takeshi. The curve of her eyes, the shape of her fingernails—those are yours. She is the most even mix of two people you’ve ever seen, and something about that makes losing Takeshi a little easier. It would’ve been a lot harder if she had simply taken his face. 
She stirs as if she’s felt your thorough examination. “Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching down to pull her up. She lays her head down on your shoulder, sleepy, and something about it brings tears to your eyes so suddenly that you startle yourself. 
This tiny person that relies on you for everything. This little girl that fits so easily in your arms. She is yours, to keep safe and happy and content. She is a promise you made, both to Takeshi and yourself. She is the thing that will keep you going, even when you’re certain you cannot take another step. She is the thing you have to show up for, no matter what. 
“I’m so sorry, baby,” your voice is tiny as it is watery, whispered into her hair, to her already sleeping form. You stand there, in the middle of Katsuki’s spare bedroom, rocking your child and letting the tears fall down in fat drops—and it feels like the most normal thing in the world. “I’m so sorry. I’m here.”
It’s only when you turn your head that you see Katsuki lingering in the doorway. You open your mouth to tell him that you’re alright, but you only manage something wounded, something pathetic and broken and painful. He’s in front of you in an instant, unwinding Kaede from your hold and putting her back into the pack-n-play, still sleeping. It’s only another second before he’s dragging you to him, nearly crushing you to his chest. It pulls another wave of tears from you, because it feels good. To be held, and to be held by Katsuki, who would reduce every source of your pain to ash if he could. He holds you like he means to keep you intact—to put you back together the best he can. The only person who has ever held you like this, meant it like this.
Six months, 13 days, and 11 hours after Takeshi dies, something changes.
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part 2 soon. thanks for reading, love u. <3
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emocowboylvr · 11 months ago
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hii! would you be interested in doing a fic or headcanons about carl x narcoleptic!reader? it's just i never see it anywhere and i really struggle sometimes. you don't have to --just asking, but thank you. <3
Hi!! Yes of course. To do this i definitely had to educate myself a little further due to the fact that I only know the super basic information about narcolepsy. I'm happy to learn more and to do this for you!! (Also sorry it took so long.)
Thank you for requesting this and feel free to give me feedback and send more requests if you like this one.
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CARL GRIMES X NARCOLEPTIC READER
Narcolepsy is tough to have during the apocalypse.
It’s important to be constantly alert and awake, but that’s just not something you could do. You often felt drowsy, if not completely exhausted or drained, and the consistent moving, running, and fighting definitely didn’t help.
When Rick and Daryl, while out on a run, found you alone in the woods one day, they brought you back to Alexandria, where you met Carl.
Since Carl was your age, the two of you became friends very easily.
At first, it worried Carl that you were so tired during the day and he suspected that there were further problems, such as you not being able to fall asleep at Alexandria for some reason, or even the possibility of you being sick.
When you became closer, he asked questions, and you told him that you were narcoleptic, which led to a long discussion and a learning opportunity for him because he was uneducated on the topic.
Since the apocalypse started when he was so young, he is uneducated on a lot of topics concerning disorders or anything medical.
When you started dating, he tried to understand more about it, but at first was a little confused. He would recommend things that you know wouldn’t help, but you still thought it was cute that he was trying.
He never got annoyed when you’d fall asleep during the day, not even a little bit. He’d just use it as an excuse to hold you.
Carl is definitely a physical touch kind of guy, though he doesn’t like to show it in front of other people.
When he’s near the group he’ll do very subtle things, like put the side of his foot against yours or his pinky finger through your belt loop. If he’s feeling touchy that day he might hold your hand in front of everyone. But in the seclusion of the two of you he’s all over you.
But his favorite form of physical contact: getting away from everyone else and finding a comfortable spot for the two of you two lay down, where he would allow you to fall asleep on top of him, while he flips through the pages of a comic book he’s already read a thousand times.
The sound of his thumping heartbeat could be heard in one ear and the faint sound of his breathing could be heard in your other. You had always thought that it helped you sleep easier. You felt like it kept you asleep and from waking up during the night so often and you didn't have as many nightmares.
Maybe you just told yourself that because you liked when he held you.
Carl also loves to have “sleepovers”, although he hardly sleeps. He isn’t an insomniac or anything, but he often has a hard time falling asleep. He keeps himself up with his thoughts. But the weight of your body on his, and your soft skin that he would very gently caress in order to not wake you, would help him relax.
Sometimes you’d wake up after a nightmare, very visibly upset. Being narcoleptic, you had them often, and the apocalypse and your traumas from it really made it worse.
Your sudden stirring in bed would wake him from his sleep, and every time he would pull you closer to him, lazily tracing circles over your back or running his hands through your hair. He would place soft, loving kisses on your forehead or the bridge of your nose, and very groggily he’d mumble something like “Come here, it’s okay” or “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.” Before he’d fall back asleep himself, probably before you did.
Of course, like every other capable member in Alexandria, you had to pitch in, which you didn’t mind, but you had night watch, and god was it hard to keep yourself from drifting off. It was only for half the night once a week, but still torture nonetheless. The moonlit sky and the faint wind in your ears almost lulled you to sleep. Your eyelids would feel like they weighed ten pounds and your body would just beg you to let it rest. But you fought it.
You’d force yourself to pace around or sing a song you used to love to keep yourself from falling into the drowsy temptation.
Sometimes, when Carl couldn’t sleep he’d come out there with you and talk to you, and every once in a while, you couldn’t help but lean on his shoulder and shut your eyes.
Every now and then he’d come out there to talk to you and he'd have to watch you struggle to keep yourself awake. He just couldn’t let you fight yourself to keep your eyes open so he’d sneak you inside really quickly, tuck you in, and take your shift for you, even though he’s already done his.
I really hope this is good enough, and honestly, like I said, I'm still learning about narcolepsy, so feel free to tell me anything I could do differently!!
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yurinaa-world · 11 months ago
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Hi! Can I request Welt with anxious!reader who snaps and becomes the embodiment of " Im currently running on 2 hours of sleep, suicidal thoughts and an oreo, and Im ready to fight God or BECOME HIIIIM."
Reader goes missing on Trailblazing mission and they find them surrounded by an entire army with their leader at their feet. Turns out reader got taken and inadvertently contained the stelleron solo after defeating the "god" (whom was just the host that was driven mad by the stelleron). Now reader is giddly and hysterical from exhaustion and blood loss they have sustained from injuries.
Thank youu
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Characters: Welt Yang x Gender-Neutral Reader
Synopsis: Welt fixing you up Injured after a fight
Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood and cuts
Notes: I'm really sorry about this one I wasn't exactly happy about this one and how it came out.
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𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔
Every sound was overwhelming, heightening the sensation of blood dripping from your wounded body. Each breath and the swift movement of your eyes added to the intense atmosphere. Reflecting on the past, everything seems like a blur, despite the stress it caused in the moment. Looking back, words fail to describe the experience you had.
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little, almost like a madman, while twitching a little, trying to calm yourself down after what just happened. Your chest felt light, as if it were filled with helium, which made it difficult to breathe. You looked at your bloody hands; just looking at the ripped skin made the cuts hurt even more. The wounds were deep, red, and covered with dried blood that stained your clothes and skin, creating a dark crimson shade on your clothes.
You felt your whole body shake as you tried to take a breath through your nose to calm yourself. You couldn’t understand why you were laughing, though, because there was nothing funny about it. But you couldn't stop laughing at yourself; you've truly lost your mind, for sure.
You had been lying against the wall; Welt would have probably been coming with Medkit since you did message him a picture of your wounds in your almost drunken-like state while laughing.
"You can be calm now." Welt grabbed both your shoulders; you hadn't realized what was even happening when he called your name. "O-oh..hah..I've uhm been in my head," you murmur out, looking welt, trying to reduce your adrenaline-filled heart. Welt moved back; he had a medkit with him, yet the whole time his face was full of concern for good reason.
He first fixes the wound on your forehead. He takes one of your hands and begins to clean your cuts do not become infected by some germs. You feel the strong sting of the disinfectant but try to ignore it for now. The sound of a closed mouth whine and hiss escapes you as Welt applies disinfectant to your cut. He was being gentle with you and the situation he's in right now, which he always is, but it's comforting to be in a state like this.
You didn't know how long you were staring at him until he looked back up and smiled at you reassuringly. It was really hard to smile back since you felt so overwhelmed by everything that was happening. A wave of nausea hit you, and you felt your legs shaking once again. After cleaning your wound, he begins to unravel the gauze to start wrapping around your hands.
The process was tedious and slow, yet he did it carefully, taking his time. After that, he grabbed a piece of gauze and started covering the whole wound in gauze, putting a bandage on any small cuts, yet this was only one hand, and there were other places as well that needed medical attention.
"Welt," you murmured with a weak voice, feeling a bit dizzy. You just wanted some comfort. The man looks at you and gives you his undivided attention as he continues to bandage your injured hand. "Is something wrong?" Your eyes look at him nervously before they drop to the ground again. "I ran off." was completely not what you wanted to say, but that's what came out.
"Don't worry about that now; you're safe now."
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!pi
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arsonlookers · 6 months ago
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My sweet College Best Friend
Yandere! Psychiatrist Lumine x Reader
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You actually coincidentally met with Lumine one of the doctors in the asylum. And she was your best friend in college before she transferred to another college across the country.
The only reason she tells you about her transfer is because of a family matter needs to be resolved immediately. She has also already been accepted to the best medical college near their homeland.
After all, we are talking about Lumine, the greatest and top college medical student in your college she already stands out by her beauty add it to her brain and sweetness, and then you will meet the perfect girl in the world ever.
Though you will never know how this perfect girl has secrets she hides from you and will never let you know about it. ever.
since all of us has secrets we needs to hide.
Yandere College Lumine! Actually had a hidden big crush obsession on you since that day you offered your lunch to her in the garden. She just found you so Cute, so Pure, so angelically Adorable, and sexy at times, she just wants you to be all Her. She doesn't like sharing, so there is no room for other people, except a certain someone.
Yandere College Lumine! Who you have been best friends with for two years never tells you about her personal life, except about her younger twin brother whom she loves so much!
Yandere College Lumine! is so mysterious to you that sometimes you question yourself if you really her best friend? Or even consider you as her friend? But over time you just didn't care anymore since it was her private life and you respected her decision.
Yandere College Lumine! Who never tells you that since the day you met her, she has been sharing all your information with her twin brother from all across the globe.
Yandere College Lumine! who kind of looks exhausted like didn't get a wink of sleep on certain days and you just put it as her studying all night long.
when in reality she has actually been stalking you all night listening to your snores and sleep-talking. Or worse she broke into your apartment just to watch you sleep take some pictures of you and smell your used clothes. Sometimes even gather your hair strands and use your body brands in the house.
You will never even suspect anything since she is very detail-oriented, knows where she moves, and hides the evidence of her breaking in.
Yandere College Lumine! Who casually hugs you as if she is not going crazy inside because you are so close to her that she can smell Everything! She knows when you change your shampoo or if you cut your hair or use a different lotion she knows. it. all.
Yandere College Lumine! Who is so creepy that if you ever know what type of messages she sends to her brother you will immediately need to call the police to arrest her because of how detailed and creepy it is, as if she knows what you are thinking that time or what you are doing in that specific time and how she knows everywhere you are as if she has eyes and ears everywhere. Even you forget this tiny little detail you said or done. Though SHE remembers it all and even lovingly writes it to her brother. you are like an open book to her.
Yandere College Lumine! Who is so saddened by the thought that she needs to leave you behind that she has dreams and a plan to just kidnap you and bring you with her to her homeland and meet her brother!
Yandere College Lumine! who you rarely keep in contact with after she left for her home country to study. except with emails, she keeps sending you for Christmas, thanksgiving, new year, and your birthday. She never forgets a day may it be send late or too early.
Yandere College Lumine! Who you lost contact with for like another 2 years. You have been so extremely worried for her but at the same time saddened to the thought that she has forgotten you as her friend.
Yandere College Lumine! NEVER forgets about you in those 2 years she lost contact with you. [she keeps updates to your social media but didn't approach you directly]
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! You met her again in the asylum as one of the Psychiatrist and were so shocked about her past relationship with Case 01 [childe]
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! is so happy to meet you again [physically] after all these years. Though, if only childe wasn't sent in this same asylum Yan! Lumine would have been so happy to keep that relationship with Childe a secret to you forever. She is not proud of that one. if only she could make him shut up by silencing him for good.
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! Who is Sooo Good at playing mind games with you, she just keeps lowkey manipulating you to believe her about all this warning on a certain patient or doctor in the field. That you should look at for.
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! OF COURSE, you can TRUST her. She is your best friend from college Believe her. trust nobody but her. be with her. Don't be scared to LOVE her.
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! She is a loyal, lovely, psycho, your trustworthy best friend, Stalker, girl boss, Obsessed, possessive, would kill for you, manipulates very sweet to you to no end.
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! Never in her life considered you as a Friend. No. no. no. no. SHE considered, you from the day the two of you met in that little garden, a LOVER that is already meant to be hers. and hers to be OWNED.
Sure she did tell her twin brother about you, but... that doesn't mean that HER twin brother Aether Can have you...
No, you are hers and hers alone, NO ONE can have the privilege to chat with you, to be close to you, to eat with you, to even dream about you. You are hers and hers alone.
Yandere Psychiatrist Lumine! Did I mention, that she is a convincing actress? OH, honey~ she is good at playing mind games with you and it also applies to others as well. She has a reputation and everyone knows that she is a very good girl incapable of even killing, everyone believes her, and her every word is also like a law. She has everyone's side and manipulates it to her liking, that is why she is very good at using people to her daily life.
Just like for EXAMPLE, how she USES Childe and his affection for her to kill that one bastard who follows you on your social media, one day and starts to harass you anonymously. She manipulates everything and tell CHILDE about the guy who is Harassing her [when in reality it is you he harassed] and made up a whole bunch of stories [a lie] a reason for an obsessed Childe to be pissed off and off to kill that Guy. FOR YOU.
Not even childe doubts her, no one doubts her, and if you discovered every dirty thing she has done for you, believe me when I say. NO ONE. I mean NO ONE will believe you if you tell everyone about her dirty act. those accusations of yours will only put you inside the asylum you are already working for. And when that happens then you will be of no escape. She will love to have you as her patient ♥
There will be plenty of things she will love to do to you, bending you down, exposing you to her heart's content, and she can strip you bare in front of her eyes only, as her patient. And NO one will even believe you if you tell them about how she loves to just fucks you inside. ♥
Oh as for your other obsessive admirers inside the asylum, don't worry they won't be dead for a while, after all, she cant take them all. she will be needing a backup. for that. so for now she will just OBSERVE. everything you do and everything they do.
JUST TRUST YOUR SWEET BEST FRIEND, OK? AFTER ALL, SHE IS PERFECT AND ONLY KNOWS AND LOVES WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU ~
A/n : Heyoo, MY FIRST YANDERE FEMALE!! I dont really know what to put anymore:(
Just a reminder LUMINE as a yandere would be a scary admirer, she knows how to manipulate people's feelings and even take advantage of people's feelings to her liking. SHE sees them like a tool of some sort but not you. Of course, you are different. and hint: her brother is very different from her, if she is the dominant not sharing type just imagine a similar but kind of different Aether. Unlike other male admirers, Lumine tends to not get attracted by you because of lust but more on feelings and your innocence and how you make her feel something, not really driven by lust type of admirer. She loves you for your kindness and how warm you are, she may tend to be creepy in a way but her love for you is eternal, possessive, and obsessive. She calls it PURE love but it's not.
Be careful though she is very observant so whatever changes you or other people around you, she will take it in mind and do something about it later on down the road, she is one of the most dangerous admirers... so watch out.
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writing-whump · 5 days ago
Text
Routinely nauseous
After some time a proper emeto no-plot fic. Isaiah is sick with Matt caretaker.
Isaiah let go of the rim of the toilet only with great difficulty, his fingers curled up around the cold porcelain like claws.
Matthew eased his away from it though and Isaiah promptly collapsed on the floor on fresh folded towel waiting for him on top of the carpet.
Matthew sat cross-legged next to him like they were having some kind of weird pyjama party. He moved with such ease, like he had done this a million times. And Isaiah supposed he had.
"Is this from exhaustion? I knew you were taking on too much-"
Isaiah coughed and curled up around his aching stomach. "Nonsense. There is plenty of other stuff to choose from." He muffled a burp against the towel under his cheek. "Skipped a meal in the morning, dozed off after lunch in the study room and don't forget the weather is changing..."
Matthew gave him an unhappy pat on the arm. Isaiah squeezed his eyes shut against a new wave of nausea. They were rolling through him since midday, the effect of the heart medication worsened by not eating.
He had been doing pretty fine the last month. Almost a proper schedule, law studies, wolf meets and random patrols, training Rip, talking normally with both Matt and Sel...he wanted to appreciate small mercies of being back in shape, except apparently he couldn't.
"It always come back for some incredibly mundane stupid reason..." Isaiah grumbled under his breath, somewhere between resignation and frustrated anger.
His stomach let out a long whine that caused him to wince, gulping the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth. Which was weird, because his tongue tasted dry and horrible, like he was eating clay.
"You are holding up really well, Zaya. It's fine." Matt rubbed his arm in a soothing way that was just underlining to Isaiah how abnormal it all was.
"Just awesome," Isaiah said sarcastically. "Went almost a month without puking. New record."
"Nobody else even noticed. They all seemed to have forgotten, in fact." Matt said it with a grunt, like he expected better of Hector and Arnie.
Isaiah was glad everything was normal on that front though. He spend the weekend with them touring whatever hills there were around Vienna to tour. They treated him fairly, no concerns, no special considerations.
He was immensely glad nothing about his condition reminded them of it. Even if Arnie watched him like a hawk and Hector tried to kinda of leave the topic hanging open in the air, they didn't actually dare to address it, so he was doing well enough.
Except this stupid Monday morning. He got used to the nauseous effects of the meds, but whenever anything in his routine changed—he ate too quickly, skipped a meal or it was too salty or heavy or foreign or his sleep got messed up just a little—his chest would get heavy, which usually led to his digestion process completely stopping.
His stomach was sore, bloated and hard to the touch, currently twisting the remnants of his lunch into confetti he didn't have much hope to hold down either.
Isaiah rubbed at it with distate. Not to mention the tiredness that came with it, he could barely lift his head.
Another angry ripple went through him, echoing with embarrassing loudness through the bathroom.
The slithery disgusting feeling was back around his teeth and he curled his fingers, hiding his face against the towel with a groan.
"Zaya? How is it going down there?"
"God, don't ask."
Matthew sighed. "Come on, up with you. You will feel better once you puke it up."
"Nothing about puking makes me feel better," Isaiah complained, but let Matt slid his hands under his back and prop him up against the toilet.
He was aware he was rather whiny today, but the constant worried frustration with the state of his body that wasn't coming back together like it was, that reacted differently, that disappointed him when it used to hold him up...
He braced himself against the toilet rim, letting some drool hang from his lips. What a sight he must have made.
The next ripple was downright painful, gnawing and he hang his head as a bubble of air forced its way up. He gagged emptily, a shiver running up his spine.
"Are you cold?" Matt rubbed his back with one hand while holding him up by the shoulder with the other.
"Just nauseous. Getting bad again," Isaiah said through gritted teeth, shutting his eyes. The wave started in the pit of his stomach and slithered through him with a powerful cramp.
He heaved with the force, gagging as a few mouthfuls of spit surged out. So much trouble for such meager results.
But the nausea was still rising, so it wasn't the end for sure.
Isaiah shivered again, gagging emptily at the wavy sensation, wrapping a hand around his stomach where it cramped up the most. His heartbeat was in his ears again, chest heavy and he had that shaky feeling in his hands.
"Shhhh. Almost over. Just get the rest up and you will get a break."
"You know something I don't?" Isaiah mouthed, spitting up but he couldn't seem to force the next wave to come. Or end. Or just move. This stuck in state was horrible.
Matthew shuffled behind him so he could wrap an arm around his chest. His hand landed in the middle of Isaiah's back, tense and ready. "On three, okay? One. Two. Three."
He gave Isaiah's back a strong decisive pat and it seemed to be the spike needed.
Isaiah heaved, whole body rolling as a thick wave of vomit came out. Another and another, leaving him breathless and dizzy from the force, having to brace himself against the rim with both hands to keep his balance.
It felt beyond humiliating to be heaving and gagging in Matthew's hold like that, but when it temprered off, he sagged against the red wolf's chest like a ragdoll.
"There you go. Good job. It will get only better now."
Isaiah let him ease him against his lap, content to curl up against Matthew's tight. He was shivering, so Matt grabbed another towel to throw over him like a blanket.
"I'm so tired of this," Isaiah said, downright pitiful and pitying himself, which he hated but had no strength to fight at the moment.
Matt said nothing, cradling his head in his lap. He took the edge of the blanket-towel and mopped at Isaiah's sweaty forehead, freeing the bangs plastered against the skin.
Isaiah sighed, the most content sound of the evening and let the gravity pull his control and tension apart. Completely boneless in Matthew's grip, relieved as the nausea finally eased.
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literaticat · 2 months ago
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Publishing aunty please help. Need advice, not publishing related.
What do you do when you're just tired, feeling unfulfilled and want to run away from everything? :( 
That sounds like a classic case of Burnout to me, though it could be combined with something else -- like Depression, or even a medical problem.
(For example, at one point a couple years ago, I was absolutely exhausted for no discernable reason and burst into tears at the drop of a hat -- I chalked it up to "winter blues" and ignored it -- come to find out, eventually, I had severe anemia and my body was not absorbing iron at all and actually it was an autoimmune disorder and became a Whole Thing! Uh... oops!)
This article from the Cleveland Clinic gives a lot of advice about what to do about Burnout -- but the most salient points, I think:
Be gentle with yourself. Everyone goes through it sometimes. You aren't a failure, you're going to be OK, you just have to take care of yourself before you can properly take care of anyone or anything else. So with that resolved:
TELL YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM HOW YOU ARE FEELING. Keeping this stuff undercover is not going to help. Being honest with your friends/family/partner or whoever your "people" are will lighten your mental load AND they will want to help and support you.
Figure out what your stressors are and tactics to deal with them. Part of this will be linked to the previous part, probably -- For example, if you are burdened by too much work -- DELEGATE or ASK FOR HELP! You've told your support system what's up with you -- now tell them what you need to move forward.
Set Boundaries. If you're the type of person that says yes to everything and then you feel overwhelmed -- remember that it's OK to say NO. It's a good thing, actually. You'll be more "on" for the things that are actually important if you are able to protect your own boundaries and aren't wasting energy on bullshit things. I can't stress enough how important this is (and it's something I am always working on, because it can be tough!) -- but my life CHANGED when I made certain rules for myself and stuck with them. For example, mine: No checking email after 7pm or on weekends. At all. I gotta tell you, my life suddenly got a lot better. (I have forgotten this one recently, and my life has gotten markedly worse -- so I gotta get back to that!)
Go to the doctor. Yes, going to the doctor sucks! But they can make sure your bloodwork is OK, you aren't Vitamin D or Iron deficient, rule out any problems (like, I dunno, severe anemia)... etc etc. Like, step one of Self Care is knowing what your Self is working with. (And if you think you might actually be capital-D Depressed or have anxiety, etc -- ask for a referral to a psychiatrist to see about getting some medicine. IT WORKS!)
Practice Self-Care. Yes, that means the boring stuff like "hydrate" and "make you are getting enough sleep" and "eat your veggies" and "meditate" and whatnot -- but also, you want to "run away from everything"? DO IT. Take a vacation -- or even a staycation -- or even a DAYcation -- where you are literally not doing ANYTHING for anyone else, no email, no nothing. Get a pedicure with extra massage, sit in sunlight with your favorite drink, read a book or just think about NOTHING -- you have no responsibilities except to yourself during this time. It's rejuvenating!
Get toxic feelings out of your system. Find a therapist, if you can afford to do so. (There may be free or inexpensive options if you are a student, or with some insurance, some therapists have a sliding scale for patients, etc) A therapist can give you at least somebody to talk things out with who doesn't know you and isn't judging you. If that's not for you -- journal? Do something artistic? Go to a rage room? Climb a mountain and scream a lot?
Now you are on the road to being healthy, physically and mentally, you hopefully have less stress and are getting your forty winks and all that good stuff -- and hopefully you'll be MUCH better soon.
Good luck!
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xzaddyzanakinx · 8 months ago
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Part two thoughts on an ani x bpd reader? Like, when things get that bad, does either of them wake the fuck up and realize things need to change? Remorse or guilt? The reader leaving? Ani leaving or falling into a self loathing hole, doing bad stuff again and again whether to himself or reader) and not taking care of himself?
It’s interesting to read some of your takes on BPD relationships, because I obviously have no idea what that’s like, but you do. You can make it seem very addicting, but also very terrifying and unhealthy, depending on which way the pendulum swings (I hope you take that as a compliment. Tone is hard through text. Lol. 😅).
I personally do not believe abuse is justified in any situation, whether you have a disorder or not. There’s lots of ways to deal with feelings without taking it out on someone else. On the other hand, I know some BPD’s have described feeling horrified with themselves after an episode like that, and so I’ve never really known just how much ‘control’ someone has in that moment. Either way, I still believe it’s the person’s responsibility to find a way to deal with it. Nobody deserves to be miserable around them just because they can’t handle something.
Anyway, I kind of went off on a rant. Apologies. Lol. My main request was for a part two of Ani x BPD reader! ❤️🫶✨
Not offended at all bby.
I think after I’m done with stalker!ani I’ll write a fic on this. Just cause so many people have asked about it.
100% BPD X BPD would be a terrible pairing. Coming from me as a bpd gal.
Now, personally, I’ve never physically abused anyone during an episode. But I HAVE done lots of property damage and I also broke my hand when I used a concrete wall as a punching bag. I split a wooden bat at the tip from whacking a fence once.
When it gets that bad, I don’t really remember what I said or did. I just feel really jittery, almost like an extreme caffeine high you know? (Imagine old cartoon character drinking coffee and their whole body vibrates, eyeballs and all)
But if it doesn’t get to that point, which it rarely does now that I’m medicated correctly and have a good support system, I IMMEDIATELY feel regret. Like horrible sorrow. Bpd means big feelings and when I feel regret, which isn’t often, it feels like I’m grieving a death that I’m to blame for.
For the smaller, more snappy or short outbursts:
My mouth works faster than the logical part of my brain that tells me not to say something mean.
Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of saying something awful and then I just have to finish it because the damage is done and I may as well spit it out. Then I’ll lock myself in the bathroom for an hour until I’ve hyped myself up enough to apologize, then I’ll go back to the bathroom until the big feelings from my apology die down. I’ll be quiet, basically selectively mute for the rest of the day and be super irritable.
It’s exhausting. But it’s even more exhausting to have to continually remind myself not to spew the first thing that pops into my head or not to chuck the bag of shredded cheese at the wall because I can’t get the ziploc to open.
It’s so stupid that something so small as getting my hairbrush stuck on a knot in my hair could set me off into a teeth gritting, foot stomp and shriek. Like wtf? That’s embarrassing. But it happens before I can even think about what I’m doing.
The best way I can describe it is: I’m a bratty toddler when it comes to emotional regulation.
But you’re so right tho, your illness doesn’t give you an excuse to be an ass. It just proves the person doesn’t want to put in the work to get better if they use it as a justifying reason.
BPD might cause my reactions, but I’m in charge of my actual actions. Sometimes it takes a long time for them to recognize that though. I’m an adult now, I’m medicated, I’ve spent my fair share of days in the loony bin. Looking back at my teenage self? It’s horrific and sad. For me and everyone around me back then.
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battlemaiden13 · 4 months ago
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I gotta do another self-indulgent ask
How would the guys react to finding out S/O is chronically ill? Let’s say S/O printed out all of their medical records from the past few years and accidentally left them on the table. It reveals multiple health conditions, medications, procedures they’ve had, specialists etc and before this the guys had no idea?
Happy disability pride month!!
Sans -He’s concerned and confused but asks you about it right away. You two talk about it for a bit and then Sans will do his own research. He becomes much more involved in your treatment and although he does do things to help you out more now and is more conscious of not over exerting yourself not a whole lot changes. He trusts you to know your body better than he does but now he’s just someone you can talk to about. He likes talking and researching new and old treatments or even just ideas to help manage pain but if you tell him to shut up he will. This is how he shows his love although he know sometimes it can be a lot. 
Papyrus -He’s confused and asks you directly about it as soon as you come home. The two of you sit down to have a serious talk and hash things out pretty quickly. Papyrus has some questions and the two of you talk about how things might change going forward. It’s a serious conversation that opens communication between you two but somehow with Papyrus it’s easy. He’s not judgemental, he’s not angry, he’s curious and respectful and not for the first time you feel as if everything comes easy with him. 
Red -He’s angry and upset that you hid this. He’s angry that he didn’t notice and he’s angry that he’s angry at you. You can’t help that you're sick but why would you hide it? He thought that you of all people would have thought better of him, he thought you trusted him and this just breaks his heart. It’s such a big part of yourself to hide and he could have been helping, he could have been supporting you but you didn’t trust him to do that. He might need some time to process this. He still loves you but he’s hurt that you thought so little of him, he can’t say he’s surprised though. Everyone else thinks just as much of him. 
Edge -You enter the room to find Edge meticulously studying the doctor's notes before his gaze slowly turns on you. He gently places down the piece of paper and pulls you into a tight hug asking if you're ok and if he can do anything to help. He doesn’t change much after hearing this news but he will occasionally ask if you are ok or offer to help with doctors or things around the house but other than that he doesn’t do anything differently. The two of you are more open with each other now though. 
Blue -He feels so guilty. That he didn’t notice and that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him. Being as energetic as he is, most activities you two do together are strenuous and thinking back after you hang out you always seem exhausted. He feels so bad that he may have caused flair ups and just wants to apologize to you about everything he’s done that may have made you feel worse. 
Orange - He confronts you about it. He knew that you were hiding something from him but he hoped you’d just come forward about it sooner or later so he ignored that nagging feeling telling him something was wrong. But this is huge, you are really ill and he had no idea and he hates that he had no idea. He doesn’t want to treat you differently, which is why he assumes you didn’t tell him, but he does want to look after you and this is such a big part of yourself to hide from him. He’s honestly hurt by it. 
Berry -He ignores it. Mainly because he thinks if you really want him to know you will tell him. He’s not going to push you about it and he believes that if you need him to change something to accommodate yourself you’ll tell him. This is big and Berry understands that but he also knows that there has to be a reason you haven’t explicitly told him about it so he’ll pretend he didn’t see it until you're ready to tell him. 
Syrup - I mean if you're dating already he knows this. The second he thought he could be a tiny bit interested in you he researched every single thing about you. He’s already seen all these medical records. He will always plan dates with your illness in mind, as in nothing too strenuous and he’s always happy to stay home with you on more difficult days. He helps in subtle ways, doing chores for you, picking easier activities, making you food. It is sweet in a way that doesn’t make you feel like something is wrong. Seeing these papers doesn’t change that.
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Text
What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)
Chapter 13
Rain and the others are exhausted, but the ghouls have finally reached the Abbey. Will his recovery continue to go smoothly? Also: the ghouls meet the ghoulettes.
Longer chapter this week, because I couldn't find a better split! Please don't hate me for this one...
Rating: M Content: hospitals, sickness, quintosis for medical reasons, panic attacks, nightmares Words: 7576
Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3
Hi tag gang! @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick @revengeghoulette
Read below, or on AO3!
Dew took a deep breath and raised his hand to the bell pull. As his fingers hung poised to curl around it, the large doors suddenly swung inwards.
“Dewdrop!” Shrieked a high voice, echoing Dew’s arrival the week before. “I saw you coming, I’m so happy you came back!”
She threw her arms around him in a hug, almost suffocating him with her mass of white hair. Looking up, she spotted the four ghouls stood awkwardly behind Dew watching the reunion.
“This must be your pack!” She exclaimed in delight, releasing him. “I hope you’ve been taking care of our Dewy.”
Dewy hid his head in his hands in exaggerated embarrassment.
“Everyone, this is Cumulus. She's more like a hurricane than a ghoul, but don't let her scare you.”
“Pshhh, come in, come in,” grabbing Dew by the hand she pulled him through the open doors, beckoning the others to follow, “Riri’s rounding up the others, we can do introductions then!”
“Lus wait,” Dew pulled back, hesitant, “we’ve had a hard journey, and I think half my pack are about to fall asleep standing up. Could it wait until the morning?”
She stopped in her tracks, looking back at them all.
“Why didn’t I see that?” She looked appalled that she had overlooked this. “Of course you’re tired after that long journey.”
Dew didn’t like to see her look so crestfallen, but with his packmates already being anxious about the new environment, he couldn’t foist several exuberant ghoulettes on them all at once.
“Give your horse to Bell, then let’s get you some supper.”
Dew looked behind him to check the pack were following and led them behind Cumulus into the courtyard. Sidling up on unnaturally silent hooved feet, Cowbell materialised next to them to take her reins.
Turning to look at Rain, Dew reached up a hand to help him down. He seemed to struggle to swing his leg over the saddle, and as his feet eventually landed on the ground, his knees buckled beneath him.
"Rain!” he gasped, struggling to support him as he went limp in a dead faint. Swiss was beside him in a second, helping take the weight of his tall body before he could collapse to the ground.
“What's wrong with him?” Fretted Aether, also swooping in to press his fingers to his temples and bring him round with his quintessence.
“I don't know, he's in a bad way again like before!” Dew cried in a panic. “We need to get him to the infirmary; they'll know what to do.”
“He was fine this morning, better than he's been all week, how has he gone downhill so fast?” said Mountain worriedly, taking Rain's weight from Dew and Swiss and scooping him up in his arms as though he weighed little more than the rucksack still on his back. Rain's eyelids flickered open as the quintessence took hold, but his eyes remained unfocussed and glassy.
Watching in alarm, Cumulus quickly ushered the ghouls into the building and towards the infirmary wing. Dew chased alongside Mountain as he strode down the corridor, his eyes never leaving Rain for a second. They burst through the doors, alarming a young quintessence ghoul stood on the other side of them. He swiftly regained his composure and directed Mountain to an empty bed he could lay Rain on, calling out for backup from the other ghouls stood around.
“What happened to him?” he asked, leaping into action without even questioning who this gaggle of unfamiliar ghouls were.
“We don't know, he was sleepy this afternoon and then fainted out of nowhere!” Dew said, frantic. “He's been weak, but he seemed to be getting better!”
“He looks like he's taken quite a beating,” hummed an older ghoulette, “but these are healing bruises not fresh.”
“Two weeks ago,” interjected Swiss, “he was attacked two weeks ago, then locked in a human jail for a week and beaten again. He's been on the mend but started getting tired again in the last few hours.”
The ghouls nodded, looking confused as they pressed fingers to him checking his vitals, both those of his vessel and his soul.
“His heart rate is slow, but not especially slow for a water ghoul.”
“His energy feels very weak, like it's been strained.”
“He'd dreadfully malnourished,” the ghoulette looked up at the panicked travellers, “you said he was locked up for a week?” She was answered by an assortment of nods. “If you hadn't said, I'd have thought it was closer to a month. One week of imprisonment, no matter how poor the conditions, shouldn't have sapped him of this much strength.”
“Will he be okay?” Dew could hear his voice come out uncomfortably high, a note of hysteria modulating his words.
“He should be, but I’d like to keep a close eye on him,” The senior ghoulette looked at them sagely, “we need to make sure there's no underlying problem making him weaker.”
She turned to look at Aether, “You’re quintessence.”
He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Aether.”
“Astra. Have you noticed any change in his energy over the last few weeks? Anything that could indicate this was brewing?”
“His elemental connection only fully clicked two weeks ago,” Aether explained, “he could wield water powers before but never that strongly. They came in rather unexpectedly and a bit too strong, that’s what landed him in trouble with the humans we lived alongside.”
Well that was putting it mildly, thought Dew.
“Is there anything else that could have affected him?”
They all thought for a moment. In the lead-up to Rain’s catastrophic actions, everything had seemed normal.
“Your Calamus leaf potions couldn’t have done this?” Asked Swiss, clutching at straws.
“They should have strengthened his magic, not weakened it,” Aether mused, “they’ve never had any adverse effects before.”
“Oh!” Burst out a much younger ghoulette with cropped, indigo hair. “Are you the ghouls who wrote that incredible book Copia keeps raving about? I'd never heard of Calamus until I read that!”
Aether and Mountain stared at her, open mouthed, before turning their gaze on Dew.
“Would you happen to know anything about that, Dewdrop?” growled Mountain. Dew had the grace to look sheepish at that, but tried to defend himself regardless,
“I had to! You don’t understand how it works here, I had to bring something with a large value of knowledge so they’d help us!”
“I don’t care; you should’ve asked us, and explained yourself! You don’t just steal.”
“If I’d asked,” snarled Dew, “you wouldn’t have let me come here and then Rain would be–”
“Enough,” Aether bellowed directly into their minds. The pair clutched at their heads in pain. “We will talk about this later,” he continued, out loud now, “Dew, you will explain yourself. For now though, Rain is our priority.”
“Yes Aether.” Dew muttered, chastised. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen it without asking, but I promise I had a reason. You’ll get it back, I swear.”
With a harumph, Aether turned back to the quintessence ghouls as though nothing had happened.
“Rain’s recovery hasn’t been linear. From what I understand, after his power came in he was beaten unconscious. A few hours later he was conscious but unresponsive, but by the next day with some food and medicinal herbs he seemed to be doing better?”
Swiss nodded in assent.
“He wasn’t talking but he was communicating,” the multi ghoul added, “he had his magic still then, I saw it.”
Astra nodded, frantically scribbling notes.
“Then he was attacked again, and totally unresponsive for days. He only started reacting and talking again a few days after we pulled him out of there.”
“He was doing so well this morning though,” said Dew, stood clutching Rain's hand after grabbing it instinctively once he was on the bed, “his magic was the strongest it's ever been!”
“He was exhausted by midday though,” pointed out Aether, “I thought he was just sleepy.”
Dew shook his head thoughtfully. “He's been sleeping really well, since that awful nightmare a few days ago.” Leaning over the water ghoul, he saw his eyes flicker sightly in recognition, but remain unfocused and unseeing. His normally bright blue irises were so pale they were almost grey.
“What's wrong, Rainy?” He whispered, so low only Rain could have heard him. “How do I help you get better?”
The four ghouls continued watching their sick packmate in concern as the quintessence ghouls began bustling around, making sure he was comfortable and making various notes on him.
“You should get some rest,” Astra advised them, laying a reassuring hand on Dew's shoulder, “we can take care of your mate from here. You all look exhausted yourselves, and you'll be no help if you pass out on my floor. I'm sure we'll have him right-as-rain in no time!”
Dew was too stunned by her assumption that they were mates to notice her terrible joke.
“We're not– I'm not –” by the time he had finished spluttering indignantly, face cherry-red, she had already walked off with a serene smile.
Cumulus materialised next to them.
“I can take you to our wing, where Dew's old room is, for tonight? There're some spare rooms made up already in case you came. I can bring you some food and make sure you're not overwhelmed with new faces if you'd like?”
Dew was so relieved by the suggestion of quiet that he could have hugged her, regardless of the suffocation risk her hair posed. He looked at his pack for confirmation, getting a mixture of nods and shrugs, before accepting her offer.
“Thanks Lus, that sounds perfect.”
With a final concerned look back at Rain's prone form on the bed, they solemnly followed Cumulus down the corridor and up a small flight of stone stairs.
“We're very close to the infirmary here,” she remarked, leading them through a large door into a corridor unlike the rest of the building so far. The walls were covered with small pictures and decorations, the doors each engraved with elemental symbols, names, and more. It felt homely.
“The room at the end is our common room, there's snacks and water in there so feel free to explore, but I can't promise it will be empty. This is mine and Cirrus’ room if you need me,” she gestured to a door, painted sky-blue with small engravings of clouds lining the panelling, “and this is Dew's room.” The door was plainer, impersonal, with no real sign that Dew had ever lived behind it.
Entering, they found their saddlebags in a neat pile in the corner of the room. The bag containing Swiss’ beat-up guitar was carefully laid on its side next to them, presumably by a careful Cowbell. No one had been in the mood for it during their trip, and none of them felt so now either. They were all still wearing their own knapsacks, Dew realised as he suddenly felt the weight of the straps pressing heavily on his shoulders. He tossed his into a corner, the others following suit. In the centre of the room was Dew's large bed, a towering pile of blankets for a proper nest stacked high on top. A fire roared in the grate, making the room pleasantly warm.
“I can show you to the spare rooms?” Cumulus hovered in the doorway. That was a force of habit, Dew thought: he had always been wary of others entering his space uninvited. The other ghouls looked uneasy at the suggestion, and Swiss spoke for them all,
“I think we'd prefer to stay together for now, with one of our own sick.”
His competing visions all agreed on one thing: regardless of where they started the night, their sleeping positions would all converge into one pile. Camping together over the last week they had gotten used to each other's proximity and being apart right now, especially with Rain being unwell, felt scary. Besides, the bed was easily bigger than the combined bedrolls they had been sleeping on for the past two weeks.
Cumulus nodded. “I'll run to the kitchens and find you some supper.” Spinning on her heel, she darted away. She was an enthusiastic host, Dew thought, and clearly felt awkward given the strange situation they had found themselves in.
The pack kicked off their shoes and silently slumped to the floor, loath to make the clean bed dirty with their dusty traveling clothes.
“He'll be alright,” Swiss said after a while, “with all those quintessence ghouls looking after him, they're bound to work out what's wrong.”
The mood was sober, all of them trying not to think about what could happen if they didn't figure it out.
“Right Dew, tell us what the situation is with the book,” sighed Aether, “then we can put it behind us.”
Dew looked guiltily into his lap where he was sat with his legs crossed as he explained the situation.
“I mentioned it before, but the way things work here help isn't completely free. They don't ask for payment in gold though, it's in knowledge or time.” The others nodded, remembering vaguely.
“Well, when I was leaving to come and ask if they had any ideas about rescuing Rain, I wasn't sure they'd help for free. It's been a long time since I left, and I did so without telling anyone. I wasn't even here that long, but I got close with the ghoulettes very fast, only to abandon everyone.”
The similarity to his flight northward a few weeks prior wasn't lost on any of them.
“So I grabbed your encyclopaedia before I left, thinking that if they demanded payment, I would have something to give them and could get back to Rain sooner. Then I left it here for them to transcribe, because I figured we were likely to all come back here, but I knew you might not want to stay for long enough to pay it back. Now our debts are cleared, and they can help Rain and we're free to leave as soon as he's better and I'm sorry I didn't ask first but I didn't have time to explain all this, I'm sorry!”
Dew was rambling now; he could tell as he caught his breath. He looked imploringly at his packmates, hoping they would at least understand, if not forgive him. Aether's face softened.
“Oh Dew,” he gave him a small and encouraging smile, “I'm not mad at you, I can see why you took it. You should have told us though! If not at the time, you could have mentioned it sooner, okay?”
Hanging his head, Dew nodded.
“We forgive you, right Mount?”
“Yeah, I get it,” he grumbled, “we'll get it back soon, right?”
“I’ll ask Mist when we see her, she's the head ghoul in the library here, she'll know.” promised Dew.
“Great!” Swiss chirped with forced cheerfulness, glad that conversation was over. The alternative of worrying about Rain was still worse though. “We're all good now, right? No more secrets?”
Dew thought for a second. His whole life was full of secrets, but he thought that was the last of the ones he owed his pack.
“That's everything.” he confirmed.
With that, there was a knock on the door,
“Room service!” came the musical voice from the other side.
“Come in!” Answered Dew, scrambling to his feet.
Cumulus opened the door, and pushed a small cart laden with trays of food through.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I grabbed a bit of everything!”
Their mouths watered at the smell; a jumbled mix of cooked meats, melted cheese, a thousand competing spices, and “fresh bread!” Swiss cried in delight.
“I won’t keep you waiting,” laughed Cumulus, seeing the wide eyes of the hungry ghouls, “Riri sends her love, she was wondering if you’d be up for some introductions tomorrow?”
Dew glanced back at the others and saw no objections.
“That sounds good, I’d like to visit Rain first though. See how he’s doing.”
“Of course!” She smiled, her warm breezy smile bringing Dew the same comfort it had all those years ago. “Good night, boys!”
A chorus of “g’night” came from the others, and Cumulus fluttered her perfectly manicured claws in a wave before disappearing back down the hall to the common room.
Dew pushed the cart to the middle of the room, and began unloading covered trays onto the floor between them. They could eat one more meal like this, before returning to the land of tables and chairs. No one spoke as they filled their plates, the only sounds for a while were the quiet moas of appreciation they made, sinking their fangs into proper, varied food. By coincidence, there was not a fish in sight, and none of them were able to feel too sorry about that.
Once they had taken the edge of their hunger, conversation began to flow again. Chiefly of interest were the myriad new faces they had either met, or were soon to meet.
“Cumulus seems nice,” started Swiss, ripping the meat of a steak from the bone as juices ran down his chin, “a lot, but nice.”
“She is,” Dew smiled, “she’s a total sweetheart, but I’m certain she’d delight in tearing any of us limb from limb if we hurt her, or her mate Cirrus.”
“Another air ghoulette?” asked Aether through a mouthful of potato.
“Same clan even. They arrived here together, apparently. Cirrus was the first ghoulette I met, she took me in when I was starving on their doorstep.” Dew paused to shovel more bread into his mouth. “I’m sure you can trade stories of my general incompetence at looking after myself.”
That got a snicker from Aether and Mountain, to Dew’s delight.
“We’re you really that bad?” Swiss asked incredulously.
“Rain with almost no magic was better at surviving in the woods than me,” Dew rolled his eyes good-humouredly at his ineptitude, “at least he could catch his own food. I could start a fire and make myself sick by eating the wrong plants.”
There was another lull while Dew set about stripping every morsel of flesh from a chicken leg; the warm spices nourishing his soul as much as his stomach.
“The ghoul we briefly met earlier, who took our horse to the stables, was Cowbell. No one really knows what element they are, and they don’t talk much, but they've been here forever and they’re loyal to a fault. I like them.”
“You mentioned another multi ghoul before?” Swiss had never met any ghouls of his kind outside of his birth clan before. Multi ghouls were rare and unique, their clans few and far between. The thought of meeting another filled him with excitement.
“Yeah, she’s joined since I left,” Dew smiled at the brief memory of her, a whirlwind of positive energy, “you’ll like her, I’m sure. She’s probably going to become Mist’s mate sooner or later.”
“The librarian?” asked Mountain.
Dew nodded. “You can ask her how the transcription is going tomorrow.”
“And the human?” Aether was curious to meet the mysterious man, who seemed vastly outnumbered in this house of ghouls.
“Papa Emeritus the Fourth, Copia, he’s in charge officially,” Dew confirmed, “he mostly leaves the ghouls to their own devices providing they pull their weight, and he manages the few humans who work and worship here. He’s a busy man, but he’ll want to see you, he always makes time for us ghouls.”
“It’s going to be a busy day for us too,” Aether yawned widely. The food was almost gone, and their exhaustion was starting to hit, “time for bed soon?”
A rumble of harmonising purrs declared that a good idea.
With the plates and trays stashed on the trolley and rolled back into the corridor, the ghouls took turns washing the grime of the road from their bodies. The magically heated water was blissful, but none of them wanted to waste too much time in the bathroom when a plush nest awaited them. There would be ample time to bathe properly tomorrow. Drying off with cloud-soft towels, they grabbed – rather tight for most of them – shirts and underwear from the pile Dew had found still in the dresser and crawled onto the soft mattress. It seemed his room had remained untouched since he left. That was strange given the short time he had lived here; had Cumulus always seen him returning one day?
Dew was the last to leave the bathroom, having changed inside into a shirt and a pair of sleep trousers that could only fit him. He emerged to find Aether and Swiss beckoning him to squeeze in-between them, trapping him in the centre of his old nest. Mountain was behind Swiss, the multi ghoul wearing him like a backpack as they pretended they weren’t clearly cuddling in the flickering firelight.
Before long, he could hear their relaxed snores echoing around the room. Despite his own tiredness, Dew could not sleep. He was worried about Rain: worried about the sudden deterioration of his health; worried that the quintessence ghouls might not work out what had caused it; worried that he may have another nightmare all alone in the infirmary. Aether’s arms felt too firm around his shoulders; Swiss’ too warm. Rain should be here, Rain should be the one he was cuddled with. Even after only a few nights in each other’s arms, Dew felt addicted. What if Rain felt the same? What if he wasn’t able to sleep – he needed to sleep to get better! What if he had another nightmare and Dew wasn’t there to comfort him.
Mind made up, Dew wriggled free of the heavy arms around him and padded for the door. He opened it as quietly as he could, ears pricked for any stray ghoulettes wandering the halls. Judging from the quiet murmur of noise and the light coming from under the common room door, they were still up and talking. On socked feet, he tiptoed out of the dormitory wing and down to the infirmary.
‘I’m coming, Rain.’
Dew rounded the final corner of the stone corridor, slinking into the welcoming, dim glow of the infirmary. Almost everyone was asleep, but the large ghoul stationed at the desk on night duty shot him a smile. Dew thought he recognised him from his time before. He tried to return the greeting, but feared it came out as more of a grimace.
Sneaking behind the curtain around Rain’s bed, Dew was at first hopeful that he was sleeping. He was lying quiet and still, but on closer inspection Dew saw that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Only his extra set of cat-like inner eyelids were closed, keeping his eyes moist but giving him a creepy blank gaze.
The curtain drew back again.
“He’s tired, but not sleeping.” Said the ghoul, entering and pressing two fingers to Rain’s forehead to check on him. He made a note on a chart at the foot of Rain’s bed. “We still don’t know what’s wrong, if anything he seems to be getting less and less responsive.”
Omega, that was his name remembered Dew, pressed a damp flannel to Rain’s dry and chapped lips. He returned it to a bowl on the table beside the bed.
“He shouldn’t get too dehydrated, it’s not good for water ghouls, but he isn’t lucid enough to drink.” Omega explained. “I’ll be popping in periodically to check on him, but feel free to stay as long as you want.”
Dew nodded, hovering awkwardly with the tall ghoul still watching him. Once the curtain closed and he drifted off to his next patient, Dew was able to take a proper look at Rain. His normally pale skin was translucent, almost waxy, and his usually shiny hair fell in limp tendrils around his face. He picked up the flannel, wringing out the excess water and did as Omega had done, carefully wetting Rain’s lips. They twitched slightly, grateful for the hydration, but still Rain made no move to either respond, or drift any closer towards sleep.
With no one around to see, Dew did what his instincts had been screaming at him to do since he was in the ghoul pile in his bedroom: he carefully scrambled up into Rain’s bed, slotting himself behind the icy water ghoul and propping him up against his chest. Dew wrapped his arms around him to begin warming him up, combing his fingers through the ends of Rain’s hair and teasing out the tangles. The water ghoul stirred, leaning softly into his touch, and Dew took that as a signal to continue. He glamoured his claws away and reached up to rake his blunt nails across his scalp and through his hair. Rain's eyes slipped closed and he sank further into his embrace, until Dew had to shift his position to keep supporting the weight of him.
Once his hair was smooth again, although still dry and dull, Dew began braiding it with nimble fingers as Cirrus had once done for him. He revelled in the silky feel of the dark strands passing through his hands; Rain's hair was so pretty, even in its current state. Dew hoped Rain would let him play with it again when he was better, so he could experience the ebony waves in their full beauty. All too soon, Dew had finished weaving Rain's dark strands into two perfect braids that curled from his temples to behind his ears. He hoped it would be enough to protect it from tangling further against the cotton of the infirmary pillowcases.
Dew helped Rain settle back down into the bed, manoeuvring his long limbs into a comfortable sleeping position. He was no quintessence ghoul, but he seemed calmer now and Dew hoped that he would be able to get some much-needed rest. With Rain back under the blankets, Dew wriggled down until he could press his warm nose in-between Rain's shoulder blades and hold him tightly. He waited until Rain's breathing slowed as he fell soundly asleep, before allowing himself to follow.
That was where the others found him the next morning. Swiss had woken first, the sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains hitting him square in the face. He twisted his head away from it, and let himself luxuriate in the warmth he had awoken to a little longer. Ghoul piles like this were sacred affairs; shared between only the closest of packs. He could probably count on one hand the number he’d had with his pack, never the most affectionate ghouls even at the best of times. They had mostly been on cold winter nights, when no amount of coaxing could make the fire burn hot enough and Dew’s intrinsic warmth was their only respite.
Their piles had never been this close before, however. Swiss found himself almost entirely trapped in the cage of Mountain’s arms, the earth ghoul clinging to him like a lifeline. They were so close, Swiss could feel his heartbeat thudding against his back.  It had been so long since he’d woken up like this; so long since he’d been held. He wished he could freeze the moment and stay here forever, safe in Mountain’s arms, in this limbo where he could dream that the giant ghoul was his.
Dew had seemed so certain Mountain felt the same way about him, yet Swiss couldn’t help but think that was too good to be true. He’d never heard Mountain express any desire to find a mate, but then again, Swiss hadn’t exactly talked about such things either. It wasn’t until the traumatic events of the last few weeks that he’d realised his own feelings even. Lying here feeling loved and wanted, Swiss was scared that by voicing his desires, they could risk losing what friendship they did have.
After his conversation with Dew, Swiss had given in to the temptation to see if any of his visions would outline a change in their relationship: be it good or bad. He hadn’t seen anything however; the Void stubbornly refusing to offer him even a hint. Swiss had wondered if he was subconsciously blocking it out again like he had done with Dew during the week he was away, too afraid of a negative outcome. Maybe he’d skirt around the topic and see what Mountain’s reaction was, rather than jumping straight into the big question? This was all a matter for later-Swiss however. For now, he was content to lay where he was and simply imagine.
Eventually, Swiss had to come back to reality. The warm breath on the back of his neck stuttered as Mountain woke, releasing him to stretch strong arms above his head, warm and bare legs pressing against his own. Swiss tried to avoid thinking about that, given their proximity. He feigned sleep for a bit longer, to see what Mountain’s reaction to him world be. To his delight, the earth ghoul recaptured him and snuffled his face into the back of Swiss’ hair.
“You awake, Snapdragon?” he murmured quietly. Swiss pretended to wake, stretching out before pressing back against Mountain’s chest.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed back, as nonchalantly as he could manage, “g’ mornin’.”
Swiss grinned to himself as Mountain showed no signs of releasing him. Even when Aether yawned and muttered his own sleepy good mornings, the earth ghoul kept him in his grip. He was so comfy, and the bed was warm but not too warm… wait.
“Where’s Dew?” asked Swiss, opening his eyes fully to check for signs of the fire ghoul. He made no move to leave the nest however.
“Wha–” Aether struggled upright, looking around, “he was here last night?”
“He’ll be with Rain,” Mountain spoke as thought it was obvious, his voice muffled by Swiss’s pile of dreadlocks that he refused to move his face from, “they’ll be fine.”
“Should we go and find him?” Aether stumbled out of bed, bare legs almost buckling as he stood up too fast.
The answering groans from the comfortable ghouls still under the blankets rumbled in perfect harmony.
Eventually, the fully-dressed ghouls slumped sleepily into the infirmary, once Aether had successfully guilt-tripped Swiss and Mountain into getting out of bed. They found Dew as he had fallen asleep last night; curled protectively around Rain. A tall quintessence ghoul, clearly on his way out after a shift, nodded at them in greeting as he passed.
Approaching the bed, they saw Rain looking even rougher than he had the night before. They shared a concerned glance, and as they did Dew finally noticed them.
“He’s really cold,” whispered Dew as though to explain their position, while making no move to change it, “but he’s sleeping, which is apparently a good sign.” He didn’t look so sure.
The ghouls kept their silent vigil by Rain's bedside until Cumulus came looking for them.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she smiled warmly, “we’re in the Den having breakfast, if you’d like to join us and make some introductions? Mist is already back in the library with Copia but we can go and bother them afterwards!”
The pack exchanged glances, and Aether spoke for them all,
“That sounds nice. It’s not like we can help Rain by just sitting here.”
“Great!” Cumulus chirped, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Cirrus and Sunny can’t wait to meet you!”
Dew was reluctant to leave Rain, but knew he had to be there too. Carefully, he released Rain and wriggled free of the bed.
“I still need to get dressed.” He muttered, but followed them back to the dormitories with only one glance back to check Rain was still asleep. Dew hated the thought of leaving him alone in a strange new place; he would be terrified to wake up in such a situation and he imagined Rain would feel the same, so he hoped they could be back before Rain awoke.
Cumulus almost skipped down the hallway ahead of them, the pack travelling with more trepidation. She flung open the door to the common room in their wing, and the ghouls almost didn’t notice the two ghoulettes inside past the loud contents of the room. The walls were the same grey stone as the hallway, only it was barely visible behind the swathes of colourful fabric that had been draped across them. The furniture was a mismatch of colours and fabrics, yet all looked delightfully soft. Trinkets covered every available surface, reminding Dew of Rain’s bedroom back at their farmhouse, with all its pretty rocks and shells. The room lead towards two large windows on the back wall, inset with a myriad colours of stained glass that cast rainbows  around the room. One was half-open, leading to a balcony beyond. It screamed home, often a faraway concept to ghouls not living with their birth clans.
Swiss was immediately enraptured; a joyful energy radiated from every corner of the room, fed by the love and thought that went into every part of its contents. He dreamed of living somewhere like this, somewhere he could make his own and fill with happiness and devotion. Their attention landed finally on the two ghoulettes, half-buried in their respective seats. They waved at the newcomers; one restrained and cautious in her actions, the other fizzing with exuberance. On a coffee table in front of them rested mugs of hot tea and piles of more baked goods than they could possibly manage to eat.
Cumulus flopped down into the loveseat next to the ash blonde ghoulette, who reached an arm out around her.
“Welcome back Dew,” she smiled warmly, “and welcome to your pack, too!”
“Hi Cir.” Dew offered her a small smile, before curling into the corner of the old and battered sofa and gesturing for his pack to find seats of their own. Swiss sank into the centre of the sofa, with Mountain beside him while Aether perched on the edge of a deceptively soft armchair that threatened to swallow him whole.
“This is Cirrus,” he figured he should do the introductions, “she’s the first ghoulette I met here.”
“Sunshine,” Dew gestured to the redheaded ghoulette sat cross-legged in a hideous orange velvet rocking chair, “is who you can thank for the plan to get Rain out.”
Sunshine mimed taking a bow, setting the chair oscillating back and forth wildly.
“Everyone, these are my packmates,” Dew looked at them; the ragtag band still slightly dishevelled from their journey, and looking awkwardly out of place in the ghoulettes’ colourful sitting room. He couldn’t have been prouder to call them his pack, “Aether, Mountain and Swiss.”
Conversation flowed slowly but smoothly, as the still-ravenous ghouls devoured the mountain of food in front of them. If they had thought Cumulus was a lot to handle, Sunshine was even more outgoing. Aether found himself warming quickly to Cirrus; two kind and steady personalities drawn together. Dew watched in wonder as his packmates seamlessly interacted with the ghoulettes; even Mountain seemed interested in Sunshine and her work at the Abbey, adapting the greenhouse to grow plants from warmer climates.
“Do you want to meet Mist and Copia too?” asked Cirrus, during a lull in the conversation. After a brief pause for Swiss to snaffle the last fruit bun, they followed her and the other ghoulettes down yet more stone hallways all the way to the other end of the Abbey.
“Dew’s probably told you, but the library is one of the most important rooms here after the Chapel,” Cirrus explained as they walked, “we have the largest collection of books detailing His work here on Earth and in the pit, as well as all manner of literature on the natural world.”
“That’s why Mist is so busy right now,” Sunshine interjected, “she’s leading the transcription of that book the two of you wrote. I haven’t seen Copia so excited by anything in years!”
Aether and Mountain exchanged glances that could only be read as ‘who is this guy?’
Turning another corner, Cirrus stopped in front of a pair of ornately carved oak doors.
“The library.”
She threw open the doors, revealing a large, high-ceilinged room lined with shelves upon shelves of books. In the centre were a cluster of desks, and cosy armchairs seemed to have been dotted wherever there was space. Long and narrow windows tossed columns of morning light across the room, supplemented by many candles that burned with an enchanted, heatless flame. Sat at the desks were half a dozen ghouls, all studiously scribbling on sheets of linen paper. None of them looked up at the disturbance, too engrossed in their work.
Sunshine wriggled past the ghouls blocking the door and skipped over to a ghoulette with cropped white hair, throwing her arms around her from behind while her quill was raised in contemplation.
“Hello Baby,” she cooed in her ear, “we brought you some guests.”
Even from the door, Dew could see the indigo blush reach the tips of Mist's ears. It was funny, he thought, seeing the normally unflappable ghoulette taken down like this. When she looked to the door, Dew wiggled his fingers in a small wave.
“Dew!” she cried, leaping to her feet and accidentally dislodging Sunshine, “I heard you’d come back!”
She swept to the door and pulled Dew, not a tall ghoul by anyone's standards, down to her height in a bone-crushing hug.
“With your pack, too,” she eyed them appraisingly, “your water ghoul is in the infirmary I heard. I’m not surprised, given what those humans put him through.”
Dew nodded, and chose not to explore why hearing Rain described as his water ghoul made his stomach feel strange and fluttery.
“Now,” Mist continued, pointing an accusatory finger at the others, “which of you is responsible for this absolute monster of a text we’ve been holed up in here copying for the last week?”
Swiss immediately pointed towards Mountain and Aether, intimidated by the small but fierce ghoulette. She turned her gaze on them; having to crane her neck to properly look Mountain in the eye.
“Who did the drawings?”
Mountain raised a cautious hand.
“Beautiful,” she stated, “ours aren’t half as good.”
She swivelled to face Aether.
“You.” Narrowing her eyes, she seemed almost ready to square up for a fight. “You wrote the text.”
Aether looked like he wanted to run away. He didn’t see what he could’ve done wrong.
“Why in Satan’s name is your handwriting so damn small!” Mist practically growled at him, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “It’s incredible work, but we can barely read it without a magnifying glass!”
Lost for words, Aether stumbled back slightly and looked to Dew for backup. Luckily, he was saved from Mist’s exaggerated wrath by Copia emerging from the far doors that led to his office.
“Good morning, dear ghouls!” he called, swishing towards them in his long cassock. “Dewdrop, I am delighted to have you back with us, I trust your young packmate is here safely too, no?”
“Hello Papa,” Dew bowed his head politely, “he is sick in the infirmary, but yes Rain is here. The plan worked perfectly.”
“Ah, I am sorry to hear he is unwell,” the warmth in his eyes was genuine, all the ghouls could see that, “but this must be the rest of your pack!”
The others watched him cautiously, wary of the human stood before them. Swiss was the first to step forward, extending a hand in the human greeting he was most familiar with. Copia clasped it graciously, shaking it twice before raising it and dipping his head to press his lips to Swiss’ dry and cracked knuckles.
“It is a pleasure to meet you…” he paused, waiting for Swiss to supply a name.
“Swiss.” If he was amused by the strange man’s behaviour, he didn’t show it. “Multi ghoul.”
“Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Swiss.” He turned to face the more wary Aether and Mountain,
“You must be the pair responsible for this incredible anthology of regional fauna we are all hard at work on!” He lifted his arms, as though praising them, like the dark Priest they figured he was. “My goodness, it has been many a moon since I saw a work this spectacular, this comprehensive.”
He looked like he was about to embrace them, before thinking better of it and instead going in for more handshakes and kisses.
 “Aether,” the quintessence ghoul spoke clearly and professionally, “we thank you for your hospitality.”
"Mountain.” Quieter, hesitant, he accepted the deferent greeting of the Abbey's leader.
“You must meet some of our Earth ghouls! Your knowledge of the southern environment especially will be of tremendous interest to them.”
“How many ghouls live here?” asked Aether, curious.
“It fluctuates, but several dozen ghouls at least call this place home. A few of my own kind too, although we are in the minority.”
“You say the number of ghouls changes,” Mountain spoke with caution in his tone, “does this mean if we chose to stay, we would be free to leave again as we choose?”
“Of course, of course! I would never want to hold any ghoul against their will.” Copia seemed appalled by the suggestion.
“And what payment would you expect if we do stay?”
“For now, nothing. The knowledge in your book that Dewdrop brought to us is more than valuable enough for you to stay here while your youngest recovers. However, if you choose to remain here long term you would be expected to help out in some small way, in the infirmary or the gardens or wherever you feel best suited.”
Dew couldn't blame them for confirming what he had told them. He hoped it would build their trust in the leader to have him acknowledge how life worked here.
“Sunshine here for example,” he patted her on her curly head as she vibrated nearby like an excited puppy, “is helping our Earth ghouls build a tropical climate greenhouse. It is a rare treat, to have a multi ghoul in our midst.” Copia looked at Swiss with a marvelling smile as he spoke.
“Also, I hear you have much experience in dealing with humankind. I understand you may not want to, given recent events,” he winced on their behalf, “but it is one of my goals to spread His message even further with the help of ghouls, His most magnificent creations. That is also a possibility for you to assist me with, if you choose.”
The ghouls shared a glance – none of them especially enamoured with humanity right now.
“Anyway! Come, come. Let me show you how our work is going. We are almost done!”
Copia bustled back over towards the cluster of desks.
“Why did he greet us like we're royalty?” muttered Swiss in Dew's ear as they followed, loud enough for Mountain and Aether to hear, but no one else.
“It's just his way,” Dew murmured back, “he thinks ghouls are the physical manifestation of His Unholiness, and it means we can get away with murder here, sometimes literally.”
They stopped behind an earth ghoul at one of the desks, carefully inking a leafy plant. It was a near-perfect copy of Mountain's own drawing but the lines lacked the organic fluidity and familiarity of the shape Mountain had so easily rendered. Two more ghouls had the book itself open between them, squinting at the tiny text, roughly scribbling it down onto separate sheets for yet other ghouls, Mist included, to write up neatly onto pages to be bound later.
“As you see, we have a very efficient system to ensure we can return original texts that fall into our hands to their rightful owners as soon as possible.” Copia explained. “I am creating the cover to bind it, imbuing it with prayers for longevity in the hope that it may last many generations beyond me.”
As Aether leaned forward over the vacant seat to see the page Mist had been working on, the library doors burst open again with a slam. The young quintessence ghoul they had seen the day before came running in, panting with exertion.
“It's Rain,” he gasped.
Dew took off running without waiting to hear more. Pushing past the quintessence ghoul, he paid no heed to if his packmates were following him or not. He tore along the corridor, the footfalls echoing in his ears blending with the pounding of his heartbeat. In front of the doors to the infirmary he skidded to a stop before throwing himself through them.
Rain was sat hunched over in bed, shaking and hyperventilating with eyes as wide as saucers. The acrid scent of panic filled the air as Dew raced to his side, recognising the signs of another nightmare instantly.
“Rain!” he cried, ignoring the hands that tried to stop him clambering onto the bed to hold the water ghoul. “Please wake up, none of it's real!”
Around him, the ghouls called instructions, Dew ignoring them all in favour of rocking Rain back and forth as his gasps turned into sobs when he woke. He pressed Rain's head to his chest, smothering him in comforting touches. Hands pulled at Dew, dragging him away from Rain so one of the attending ghouls could press their fingers to Rain's forehead, sedating him with a burst of quintosis.
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