#i woke up drenched in sweat so i think my fever finally broke on it’s own last night while i was sleeping which is a great sign!!

[inkykeiji]

oh my gosh clari, my love!! i hope your taking it easy, since u tested positive:(( Drink lots of water and eat yummy food that’ll make you feel better<3 I hope you get better soon, you got this!!!🤍🤍

-☘️

hi sweet clover!!! <33 i am! i haven’t left bed in days hahaha and i’ve been resting and fuelling my body the best i can!! <3 i appreciate your well wishes bb (´∀｀)♡ i am hoping i will start feeling better soon, too!!!

[darlingshane]

Sam Rossi x GN!Reader

Rating: M // Content/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Guns, Death, Illness, Some Gore, Some Blood, Injuries.

WC: 1,833 // Prompt: Watching a TV show.

Summary: You're sick with the flu and Sam takes care of you.  

A/N: Please mind the warnings. I don't wanna give anything away but this has some dark stuff.

Close your eyes, sweetheart

On Friday, you were dismissed early from work after falling sick with the flu. You already had a sore throat and a headache when you left in the morning, but stupidly thought you could tough it up and go through the day as usual. A couple of hours later, a fever rose out of the blue, and you couldn't keep your head straight up.

After that, you spent that day and the rest of the weekend tucked in Sam's bed, cause he insisted on having you quarantined in his room at the motel, so he could keep an eye on you while he worked.

You hated being sick and being unable to function properly, but it felt really nice having Sweet Sam taking care of you like nobody ever had. You were alone for the most part cause you didn't want him to get sick too, but he brought you medicine and food, and measured your temperature a few times until it went down while you slept it off. He’d quietly edge into the room whenever he had a minute to spare and fix the covers that you kept tossing around.

Once, you felt his cold palm on your forehead, and you woke up a little disoriented, not sure if you were dreaming or if he was actually in the room.

Close your eyes, sweetheart– you heard him mumble before drifting again.

When you woke up on Saturday, you felt slightly better. That morning, after showering and having breakfast, you started binging The Walking Dead out of all shows. You've already watched a handful of seasons a few years back, but now that you heard that it was coming to an end you decided to catch up, and this was your best opportunity to do so. The medication had you dozing off a few times, but it was fine, you knew from experience that most episodes were pretty skippable, as long as you got to see the major events on the mid-season and season finales.

That evening, Sam watched a couple with you to keep you company for a while.

You stayed up late, thinking you were beating this thing already, but then came Sunday morning, and you woke up drenched in sweat and shivering. You slid out from under the covers, throwing a blanket over your shoulders to get the medication you needed. It was supposed to be on the nightstand, but it wasn't there. You checked the bathroom cabinet, and it was empty as well. When you padded back to the room, you realized that that wasn't Sam's room.

Something felt really off all of a sudden when your heart almost jumped out of your chest, startled at a loud noise, resembling a gunshot, coming from outside.

Peering cautiously out the blinds, you saw Sam holding his grandfather's rifle in the middle of the lot and the body of a woman, out cold, laid on the ground right in front of him.

Petrified at the scene, tears swallowed your eyes and your vision blurred. All you could see for a moment was his tall silhouette, still holding his weapon at the ready, trained at the body.

The body jerked slightly and Sam fired another round that went straight to the head.

As bad as it looked, you couldn't tear your gaze away from it.

Needing some answers, you carefully stepped out of the room, snuggling the blanket tighter around your body.

Sam's face tilted in your direction when he heard the door closing.

“Sam?” you walked up to him slowly, keeping your focus on him and not the body; capturing the splatter of blood across his features.

“Go back inside, sweetheart. I'll take care of her,” his voice broke.

You shouldn't have, but you couldn't help but glance at the ground to see that the woman on the pavement was Maggie.

“Oh, my God,” you brought a palm to cover your mouth, “what did you do?”

“She was…” his voice wavered again, pointing at her shoulder, “she was bitten.”

It was utterly confusing, and you stared at her again to observe closer the discoloration on her skin, the odd milky color her open-wide eyes bore, and the nasty scar on her shoulder.

It really looked like something pulled out straight out of that TV show you were watching the day before, but you refused to believe that this was the case. It didn't feel like a dream either until you took a good look around to see that the lot was deserted, fenced all the way around with chain link, and other spiked devices that seemed improvised.

Maybe it was a dream, or a nightmare, but you couldn't really tell.

The cold felt real, the fever as well, and when you brought your hand to Sam's chest you could measure the distressed beat of his heart, hammering beneath his ribs.

“How… What happened?”

“I dunno. I found her like this.”

“No, I mean… What's going on? I don't understand how this is happening right now. Just yesterday, we were watching TV and you were bringing me food…”

“That was months ago, sweetheart. You don't remember the outbreak?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, and the crease of his brow deepened.

He slung the strap of the rifle to his shoulder and put his cold palm on your forehead, covered in sweat beads.

“You're sick,” he huffed dryly, “you bitten?”

“No, it's just a fever.”

He paused and promptly yanked the blanket covering you, discarding it to the ground.

“Sam!” you yelled, “what the hell are you doing?”

He felt your neck first with his palms before grabbing one of your wrists, rolling up the sleeve of your shirt.

“Let go of me!”

He twisted your arm, scanning it thoroughly before letting go of you. His lip snarled, and he reached for your other wrist to do the same.

This time, underneath the sleeve, he uncovered a scar, like Maggie's, taking over your forearm.

If this was a dream, this would be the perfect time to wake up because you didn't like one bit the way Sam stared at you after his discovery.

“You know what I have to do now,” he slowly brought his weapon back to his hands, and reloaded it before pointing at you.

“Wait, wait,” you showed your palms midair, “help me understand, please.”

“You're sick. Fever has already gotten you. Soon you'll be septic, and then you'll die, and turn into one of those things. ”

“I'm okay, I swear. I just need antibiotics,” your face quickly heated up from tears trickling down your cheeks, pleading, “please don't do this! I love you, Sam. You can't kill me in cold blood.”

“That's not going to save you, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” the rifle was trembling in his hands; the glaze of his eyes displayed his sorrow, “I don't wanna, but this is what we do… we promised each other to end it before turning.”

“Please, baby, just hold on, okay?” your voice broke, sobbing relentlessly, “I'm scared, Sam. I don't… it can't end like this.”

“I'm sorry, I have to,” he let out a shaky breath, getting a firm grip of his weapon, “close your eyes, I promise it'll be quick.”

“No, no… please stop,” you stepped backwards, stumbling on your feet, falling on your ass.

“Shit,” he swallowed, and swung the strap of the rifle to his shoulder before kneeling in front of you.

“Listen to me,” he said softly, his hands cradling your face, foreheads meeting halfway, “I love you so much, baby. I promise I'll never forget you.”

“I don't wanna die.”

“Sh, sh… I know… just close your eyes, sweetheart. Do it for me, please,” he felt your head nodding.

As your eyelids shut, he kissed your tears before standing up.

You still didn't understand how or why, but you kept your eyes closed as he leveled the rifle to your head. You couldn't see it, but you heard the maneuvers he did before pulling the trigger at once.

It was quick.

The shot rang off so loudly that it woke up all of a sudden from that vivid hell you got yourself into, and you found yourself back in Sam's bed.

It all felt so real that a few tears had rose in your eyes from that stupid nightmare. You could still hear Sam's voice echoing in your head, telling you to close your eyes.

Relieved of being back to reality, you took a sip of water from the glass on the nightstand, glancing around to find Sam conked out in the armchair by the window.

He didn't move as you stood up and walked towards him. With a smile, you moved his hair softly from his forehead and he promptly jerked awake at your touch, gripped your wrist so tight it hurt, and when you looked at his eyes, his usual browns were covered by the same horrifying milky-yellowish veil you saw in Maggie's earlier.

The sight of him in that form paralyzed you from pulling away from his grip. Your eyes opened wide, watching him sink his teeth into your forearm, ripping away part of your flesh without effort.

The pain was so unbearable that it made you go into shock and blackout.

“Fuck,” it's the first thing you say when, once more, you jolt awake in Sam’s bed.

It was the oddest sensation. You knew none of it was real, but the fear felt just like it for that first minute of awareness after being back to reality. You had to be back, cause you couldn’t handle another layer of inception right now.

You reach for the glass on the nightstand, but accidentally knock it over; the sound of it shattering on the floor prompts Sam to come out of the bathroom.

“Hey, easy, stay there,” he walks up to you, ordering as you attempt to get out of bed, “I’ll bring you another.”

He comes back with a full glass and a towel that he throws over the broken glass and water spillage for the time being.

“Were you having a bad dream, baby?” He hands you the new glass of water, and sits close to you at the edge of the bed.

Bad doesn't even cut it.

“What gave it away?” Your voice rasps and you drown the dreaded taste left in your mouth from the dream, gulping half of the water.

“Heard you mumble and turn around a few times. Wanna tell me about it?”

“Uh-um, not really,” you place the glass on the night table, carefully this time.

“You look better. Want me to hold you for a bit?” He smiles softly, and your lips mirror his expression.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Adjusting in the bed, you shift as Sam slides on the mattress to prop himself against the headboard, wrapping his arms around you.

You breathe relieved, relaxing comfortably in the realness of his embrace as he kisses your head, whispering how much he loves you.

[lavenderek]

when i was in the hospital a few years ago my left tit swole up almost twice as big as it was before. i got up in the night and found a nurse. i was pretty embarrassed but i explained this to her, and she was like, "sometimes they change in size because of hormones. it's really normal."

like, didn't check, assumed i was exaggerating the size difference. i knew this already, and didn't think that's what was happening. but she seemed sure. i believed her and was ashamed for bringing it up.

i then experienced a stomach bug the likes of which i haven't seen since, and again the nurses didn't believe me. i would go out there and beg for tums or a sprite or something, and they were like, "are you throwing up? no? the next time you have a bowel movement call us in to look at it." they found some liquid maalox for me and wouldn't give me anything else.

i couldn't sleep at night, i was so sick. i remember there was a night i hadn't slept for so long and i was so sick that i was actually delirious. i started seeing shimmers in the air and i thought i could hear my stomach acid splashing like stock footage of a coastal storm around a lighthouse. i had a journal with me and my entries for like three days were incoherent, anxious, and rambling.

it was the psych ward, so every morning and evening someone had to come in and visually verify that i was there and alive. twice a day i would look up from where i was, slumped on the bathroom floor, drenched in sweat. someone in scrubs would boredly mark something on a clipboard and then leave the room.

my fever broke just before dawn on the third day. i remember i crawled into bed and wept with relief that all i could feel in my stomach was the sensation of raw burning rather than active nausea. i finally fell asleep. a couple hours later, a nurse angrily woke me up and told me sleeping was for nighttime.

and looking back, i have no idea what i had. i'm not a fuckin doctor. but one of my lymph nodes was swollen. i was extremely sick, and i'm actually kinda salty about it. like i get it, it's the psych ward, it's the night shift, you've probably dealt with enough hypochondriacs and delusions for a lifetime. but i'm a human patient under your care? also i had physical symptoms. im kinda salty about it!

i was just remembering that. i wonder what i had

[cassandras-nest]

Brother.

this is , finally, the request @angelwars11​ made me for my 500 celebration (took too long to write it, i know)

she asked for a Cody-Rex hurt/comfort - sick fic, but i have to be honest here, i never wrote or read a sick fic so i tried my way. I think i made the hurt/comfort trope justice a bit.

a major thank u to @deakysgurl​ for being so kind to be my beta in this, even if she’s not into Star Wars.

warnings: after Umbara arc, hint of sickness.

(didn’t remember if Cody is actually older than Rex so i made it my own way)

___________

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

“No!”

Krell, Hardcase, all those men, Waxer... Not again, I'm not losing you all again, not again... Umbara again...not again, no!

Rex woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, his eyes wide open with fear... all images of Umbara's failure still in his head.

It was a nightmare, all those memories in his head again, memories of many brothers being killed, memories of his men who trusted him with their lives dying for an idiotic reason.

Just a nightmare, just a nightmare... he whispered trying to calm down, his heart still beating fast and his breathing irregular.

I need to calm down - easier said than done, he repeated quietly to himself.

It was far too early to get out of bed. But he was already awake and terrified that he would sleep again, afraid that the same nightmare might haunt him again or worse, that he would never wake up again.

After that disastrous campaign, after that fatal mistake, everyone suffered from nightmares. He was the one who suffered the most, not that he had told anything to anyone, not even to Cody, although he was probably the only one who would better understand right now. Something inside him broke forever, he wasn't the same. And maybe he never would have been.

He started to feel sick a few days later, but he didn't care. He blamed the lack of sleep and intense working hours, after all the war never rested, so why should he do that?

He didn't even care when he started to have a slight fever, it was all due to stress, he thought anew. Even though initially, Kix advised him that he should have stopped and started taking care of himself, he didn't listen.

“I am the Captain, I have duties“ He replied, almost annoyed, only to be reprimanded by the latter.

“You can't fulfill your duties if you die, captain” That was the harsh answer the medic gave him.

Unfortunately, he could not hold him against his will, so he had to let him go.

As expected, he started to feel worse the night before. Dizziness, excessive sweating, even vomiting a couple of times. In the morning he looked like someone who had been swallowed up by a feral hungry beast and spat out immediately afterwards. But still, he decided to carry on. He would have slept afterwards.

I have duties... He kept repeating himself.

Just outside his quarters, Cody was waiting for him. It wasn't unusual, he used to do it when they had a meeting together, but this time it was clearly different.

“Kix told me…” It was the first thing Cody said to him, and from the look on his face, he certainly wanted to know more...

“I'm fine, Cody. Trust me” He answered him quickly and started walking to the strategy room.

Cody looked at him for a moment, he looked like he was burning and had little drops of sweat on the sides of his head. No, he wasn't fine.

“You don't look good, Rex. Why didn't you come and talk to me?” Cody asked frankly while keeping up with his brother's pace.

“It's just stress. There's nothing to worry about. It would pass, as usual.” Rex tried to tone it down, forcing a smile.

“It's not like that. Kix told me you started having a fever days ago. Again, promise me you'll get some rest after this? Okay?” Cody pressed on.

“I am not a child, I know what I can do and what not” Rex replied visibly altered, stopping in his tracks and facing him.

He might be sick, but he didn't need his older brother to babysit him.

“Kriffin' hell, I'm worried about you…” Cody reacted.

He was damn worried about his brother, Rex was a little younger than him so he felt he had to be a good example, the burden of being the big brother was on him, he was his ori'vod afterall. But he also knew he couldn't force him to do anything, he'd always been damn stubborn.

“We'll talk about it later…” Rex concluded, entering the main room first, Cody followed him.

Only they didn't because Rex passed out in the middle of the discussion about the next battle strategy. He was delirious and trembling when Cody knelt before him, terrified to see his helpless brother.

Rex was frightened of who knows what and feverish as he tried to push away anyone who came near him, eyes closed and shallow breathing.

Obi-Wan and Anakin, also caught by surprise at first, did everything they could to help and took action immediately.

“Call Kix now!” Anakin barked at a nearby trooper as he knelt beside Cody, while Obi-Wan hurried out to get help too.

“What happened?” Anakin asked promptly to the Marshal Commander.

“I don't know much, Sir. All I know is it's been days, even Kix warned him to slow down, after Umbara... well, he hasn't slept much since” Cody said. True to his words, he didn't know much but he knew his brother was sick and he was absolutely sure of that, even though that di'kut didn't want to talk to him.

“Since then? Why didn't he come to me... or to you, to talk? Why do you have to be so stubborn? Huh, Rex?” Anakin answered, his last words almost whispered. 

“I think, as far as I know, he didn't want to let you down, Sir, after the last mission he was sure it was partly his fault, so he thought he had to make it up to you, somehow.” Cody said while looking at his brother still unconscious on the floor.

Rex was shaking a little and while both Cody and Anakin were trying to take off the top of his armor to give him more room to breathe, they tried to reassure him even though maybe he couldn't hear them.

“I knew it” Kix groaned as he entered the room followed by Obi-Wan “I knew I had to tie him down to the bed two days ago” He added as he made his way over to the other two.

“Sir, Cody.” Kix said once he approached them “Nice thought taking his armor off, but now I need you two to help me take him to the medbay and probably tie him up for real this time” He continued, instructing them on what to do next.

Cody and Anakin went into action immediately, lifting Rex's body and promptly following Kix.

Once there, he was finally put on a cot and left in the capable hands of his medic.

“If I may, sir, I'd like to stay here until Rex wakes up.” Cody asked Anakin promptly, even though he wasn't his direct superior.

“Of course, you can, I'll inform Obi-Wan don't worry, but as soon as he wakes up, please let me know.” Anakin asked, visibly concerned.

“Will do, sir. Thank you, sir.” Cody answered, standing at attention.

In the following days, Cody didn't leave that room even to eat, and when Kix ordered him to rest, he refused.

….

“Get some rest, Cody. I assure you he'll be all right when you come back." Kix said one afternoon, entering the medbay for his usual checkups and finding the Commander half asleep on an uncomfortable chair.

“With all due respect, you're not my doctor and I'll only get some sleep when Rex wakes up” Cody replied with too much annoyance in his voice.

“All right, whatever. But if you change your mind, I've got some empty beds you could use... I mean…” Kix casually said as he continued his rounds with his other patients.

Cody was tired, yes, but he felt like he owed it to him, to Rex.

He wanted to be the first one to insult him as soon as he woke up. He'd never seen him this sick before, and it haunted him.

Rex woke up five days later, still light-headed with painkillers and a burning sense of unease. He tried to move but he felt tired and numb, he was aching everywhere and could barely see. He had restraints, that he could feel. Someone had tied him up.

“What in the karkin’ hell happened.” he thought at first.

Then he saw Cody, asleep in a chair next to him. He tried to call him, but his voice was struggling to get out, so he waited and tried to calm himself down. He didn't want to sleep, he was just confused.

About thirty minutes went by, but Cody finally woke up. The first thing he did was to check on his little brother, finding him awake but barely conscious.

“Rex... Rex, how are you feeling? Can you hear me?” He tried to ask. He was bloody worried.

“I'm fine..“ It was the only thing Rex answered. His voice still hoarse but a little smile appeared on his face.

“Oh thank the Maker..” Cody relaxed but then added “And anyway, what the hell were you thinking, you could have died.” He said with a slight pinch of voice.  

“Codes...I don't think, I mean, i didn’t..” Rex tried to talk again... but damn it, he was getting tired already.

“Right, you didn't think... you reckless, inconsiderate son of a…” Cody raised his voice but then he stopped.

He didn't want to cry, after all, he was the big brother, but he was scared. 

After all, since the incident and the mission that had cost both of them significant lives, the nightmares tortured him too, but he had to stay strong for everyone, it was his duty as Mashal Commander.

“Rex, I don't want to lose you...not after everything that happened…” He quietly added.

Rex looked up at him and for the first time, he saw his ori'vod scared, really scared. Cody had never been scared.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have..” He tried to talk again but he couldn't finish the sentence. He could feel the tears coming out and tried hard to keep from crying.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have…” Cody said to him. “..I'll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He added as he moved closer to the bed where Rex was and hugged him as close as he could.

"Yes... I know," Admitted Rex, trapped in his brother's embrace. "Just... can you take these ridiculous things off me first?" He added.

Cody stepped back and they both looked at the restraints that Rex had on both wrists.

“Yeah, I'm sorry... actually it was your medic's idea” Cody answered, offering him an embarrassed smile. 

“Kix..” Rex groaned “I knew it”   

“Look, they were necessary, he wanted to make sure you didn't run off on him again” Cody informed him.

“Of course..” Rex sighed and said nothing more.

“I'll go get him, okay? So besides taking these off, we' ll see how you are. And then I'm off to inform Skywalker” Cody said again, taking the situation in hand, instinct kicking in.

"The General? Why?" Rex asked surprised.

Sure, Skywalker cared a lot about his men, but he didn't expect him to care. He had other things to think about at the moment.

"He made me promise to let him know when he woke up. Let me tell you, he was seriously worried." Cody told him.

For Cody, it was a fairly normal behaviour, but he understood Rex's shock, for the whole society they were nobody and few of them were treated like living beings. So when someone cared about them, at first they were always suspicious.

“Ah, don't worry about that now, I'll go get Kix, alright?” Cody added on the way out.

“Codes..“ Rex called him again when the other one was just outside the door.

“Yeah?” He replied worriedly.

“Thank you.” Rex said in a low voice...

“It is my duty, vod'ika “ He smiled at him and then rushed to call Kix.

Seeing Cody smile even for a bit was a sight that Rex wanted to remember forever, just like when they were cadets and everything was easy, just like before the war.

______

as usual, if you like it, reblogs are love so as comments, advices & more.

[imagine-loki]

Beauty and the Beast

TITLE: Beauty and the Beast CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 17/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is under a spell that will return him to his Aesir one if he learns to accept himself for who he is RATING: T (so far)  NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

Loki couldn’t help chuckling at the look on Morgan’s face, at the horror of being caught by Frigga kissing her son like that.  But Frigga’s tone was amused, not upset.  Loki kissed Morgan’s cheek.  Morgan was still a million shades of red.  Loki thought it was absolutely adorable.    

Frigga didn’t comment on the activity she had interrupted.  Instead, she checked on Morgan.  “Much better, dear,” she said approvingly, as she placed a hand to Morgan’s forehead, checking for fever.  “Sleep until lunch and after you eat something you should be able to rest in your own rooms until dinner,” she told Morgan, though the words were an update for Loki too.

Loki nodded. “You should listen to, Mother. You still have a lot of healing to do, darling,” he told Morgan.  Morgan nodded and let Frigga take the empty glass from her hands and laid back down to go back to sleep.  Loki kept her curled in his embrace.  He didn’t mind, especially since she was fighting through the fever still. She needed his cold and he smiled warmly at her soft sight of relief as she settled back to sleep in his arms.  

Frigga gave him a warm, knowing, smile.  “She will be fine, darling.  She is through the worst of it now,” she reassured him gently.

“I know. That does not mean I’m not still concerned for her,”

Frigga nodded. “I know, darling.  Your lady will be fine,” she told him firmly “And after lunch you can leave the healing wing,”

Loki chuckled.  “Which is a relief. I love spending time with you, Mother, but being in the healing wing can get boring after a while,”

Frigga laughed. “So I have heard from everyone I tend here. Your brother is the worst about it and seems to get injured the most often,” she said fondly, amused at her children’s antics.  “I would have let her leave now, but I’d rather wait until that fever is better,”

“I know. I completely understand,” Loki didn’t like Morgan’s fever any better than Frigga did.  At least Loki was the best suited to keep her fever down.  

Morgan’s fever broke right before lunch as Frigga had predicted.  It was clear the fever had broken when she started shivering in Loki’s arms.  He immediately brought back the spell that minimized the effects of his cold skin.  He climbed out of the bed, adding a warming spell to the blanket she was bundled in.  She woke when he left the bed, sitting up and looking confused.  Loki kissed her cheek.  “Don’t worry. I’m still here, Ana,” he soothed. He knew she’d be disoriented blind in a strange environment.  Morgan nodded and bundled the blankets around her. 

Frigga ducked back into the room.  “Fever finally broke? Excellent news indeed,” she told the pair.  Morgan stopped shivering after a minute as her body adjusted.  Frigga checked her over as the servants brought lunch for Morgan and Loki.  The pair devoured their meals, starved from the experience of the transition.  

Morgan was surprised at how much she devoured, but devour she did.  She sat back against the pillows with a contented purr when her plate was empty.  Until a slice of chocolate cake appeared in front of her. Loki lit up in absolute delight when a slice appeared in front of him as well.  Frigga laughed at her predictable son and watched them both enjoy their cake.  

After they had eaten, Frigga bundled Morgan up in a robe so she could leave the healing wing.  Her nightgown had been drenched in sweat and Loki could see it cling to her as Frigga was bundling her. And his attention is drawn to the fact that Morgan had an extremely attractive body.  He tried to clear those thoughts away quickly before they got him into trouble.  

“There’s a hot bath waiting for you in Loki’s chambers and the maids will help you bathe. I know you feel better, but you need to rest,” Frigga told them both. Morgan nodded obediently, though Loki knew she had absolutely intentions of letting maids help her bathe, no matter how wonderful a hot bath sounded. Morgan was raised American and independent.  She wouldn’t accept the help of maids unless she had to.  

Loki kissed Frigga’s cheek and wrapped an arm around Morgan.  “Thank you, Mother,” he told her warmly.  Morgan thanked her too and the pair left to return to Loki’s chambers.  Loki’s arm was around her shoulders and he steered her through the halls.  Loki held Morgan close to him as they walked.  

The maids were waiting for them when they arrived and Morgan moved closer to Loki’s side when the maids began to speak, informing Loki that the Allmother sent them to aid Lady Morgana.  Loki chuckled at Morgan’s sudden shyness and sent her off with the maids with a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.  

Morgan was delivered back to him, looking much more relaxed for the hot bath. Her hair had been left loose, curling down her back and she was wearing an Asgardian nightdress, which seemed designed to show off her body. Even after her time in the hospital and the healing wing, she was gorgeous.  Loki had to shake those thoughts away again.  They wouldn’t help and she would notice and possibly be upset if he got too excited or moved too quickly.  He gulped, his eyes dilating as his desire rose, despite his efforts to keep a leash on it.  “You look so beautiful, Ana,” he managed to tell her.

She gave him a warm smile and went to him, knowing where he was thanks to magic and his voice.  “Thank you, Liam,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist.  He bent to kiss her softly and she returned the kiss eagerly. They kissed deeply for a few long minutes until she finally broke it to catch her breath, breathing frost.  She smiled up at him, her thumb caressing his cheek.

His smile was warm and affectionate. “How do you feel, darling?” he asked with real concern

“So much better,” she replied with a purr.  

“I’m so glad, my darling,” 

Morgan’s eyes widened as she remembered something and stepped back with a curse.  She summoned her Jarvis-tech watch to fasten back over her wrist.  “Sorry, I forgot your people don’t like tattoos…”

“I was meaning to ask. What is that tattoo?” he asked curiously

She smirked.  “All of the original Avengers have it,” she explained and took off the tech again so he could see her wrist.  She traced the design as she explained the components.  “A for the Avengers, 6 for the original six, dad’s arc reactor, Cap’s shield, Clint’s arrow, Nat’s hourglass, Mjolnir, and a symbol meaning ‘toxic’ for Bruce,” she blushed she she continued.  “I added the horns from your helmet to mine… there’d be no Avengers if it weren’t for you, even if it was against your will.  And you’re on the team now anyway…” she trailed off, realizing that she was babbling

Loki smiled, touched that she had added his horns to the tattoo.  “I appreciate that,”

She smiled in return and carefully fastened her watch back over the tattoo.  “Thor mentioned that your people don’t like tattoos.  Even though the oaf got it too,”

Loki shrugged. “Most Asgardians don’t. Some get them anyway,”

She nodded, but still smirked.  “Still, I bet you haven’t seen the oaf’s,” she teased.  “I believe his exact words were ‘I best never let mother see this’,” she said with a laugh.  

Loki chuckled.  “That doesn’t surprise me even a little bit,”

Morgan laughed too, knowing her trickster well. “How much are you going to make him bribe you not to tell your mother?”

Loki smirked maliciously.  “I’ll figure something out,”

Her laughter continued “I knew you would,” she replied affectionately and stroked his cheek.  He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and relaxing into her affection.  She smiled at how easy it was to make the attention and affection starved Loki happy.   He practically melted into her touch. 

“So what should we do with our day?” she asked him as she moved to stroking his hair.  

He hmmed in pleasure.  “I honestly have no idea,”

She giggled “It’s your realm, you must have some idea what’s fun to do around here,” she teased as she stopped petting him so he could think.  Easily distracted Loki was easily distracted by pets. 

He considered and pondered for a moment, wondering what she could possibly enjoy without sight. “How would you like to join me in the gardens?” he asked tentatively.  She couldn’t see the flowers, but she would be able to smell them and perhaps enjoy them that way?

She grinned. “That sounds like fun,” she agreed, eager to experience anything of the realm that Loki wanted to show her. “Though perhaps not in my pajamas…” she amended with a grin.

Loki chuckled.  “Would you like my assistance again, my darling?”

She smirked. “Unless you want me dressing in Midgardian clothes, it might be a good idea,” he knew that her idea of Midgardian clothes was also limited to jeans and t-shirts, which would definitely not be appropriate on Asgard. 

Loki laughed and snapped his fingers, a beautiful gold dress shimmering into place around her as he did.  She gave him a bright smile. “Thank you.  Though I do hope you’re not being enough of a trickster to dress me in something embarrassing…” she warned him firmly.  She wouldn’t appreciate her handicap being taken advantage of. 

“Don’t worry, my darling. I would never think to do that to you. Thor maybe. But never you.”

She laughed. “You would do that to Thor,”

“I certainly wouldn’t pass up the opportunity,”

She laughed even harder.  “Poor oaf,” she took his arm and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “I appreciate that you’re nicer to me than you are to Thor,” she teased.  There was a warmth to her tone that told him she really did appreciate his kindness to her.  It was a kindness without pity and without thinking her less simply because she couldn’t see.  “Shall we head to the gardens?  I’m sure we want to have some fun before dinner,” she reminded him.  Or before he remembered she was supposed to be resting.  She was extraordinarily bad at resting, just like her father. 

“Of course, my darling. Let’s go. Though you will be resting once we return,” he told her firmly.  He hadn’t forgotten she was supposed to be resting.  Though a casual stroll through the gardens hardly counted as exerting.

She huffed and rolled her eyes predictably.  “I’m fine and healed,” she reminded him stubbornly.  

“That may be, but Mother said you still need the rest. I am not going to argue with her,” Loki replied quite logically.  He would never go against Frigga’s healing orders.  

She huffed.  “No one can argue with your mother,” she finally agreed.

They made their way out to the gardens, but on the way, three annoyingly loud drunk men exited their lair.  Loki groaned when he saw them and pulled Morgan closer to protect her.  

“Loki!~~ You’re out of seclusion~” Fandral said, clearly drunk.  “You should join us!~ Your little lady too!!~~~”

Morgan was clearly uncomfortable with the loud, extremely drunk men, especially since she didn’t know them.  She cringed against Loki, who pulled her to him protectively while he snarled at the drunken idiots to leave them alone.  She was overwhelmed, especially with this hulking drunk men she couldn’t see.

The last stray was when Fandral placed a hand on her arm to lead her into their lair. 

She snapped and surprised all of them as she slid out from Loki’s embrace. None of them expected the flurry of blows to come from the tiny former Midgardian.  They didn’t expect her to throw Fandral unconscious over her hip, or to knock Volstagg and Hogunn out with her cane.  

Even Loki hadn’t known the cane was weighted with a steel core and battle-ready.

She drew a blade from the end of her cane as she fell into a fighting stance, ready for another round. Clearly she’d been armed this entire time and not nearly as helpless as a blind little Midgardian should be.

[heyashthisisstargetontheserver]

What I think about the Homestuck Epilogues, and what I learned from them.

“It's a tough, emotionally draining read. But it's cathartic, in all the worst ways possible. 

He tends to get carried away with his projects.”

Four nights ago, I finished the Homestuck Epilogues. I sat there in my computer chair for an hour, typing my brains out to several people at once, trying to get anything even REMOTELY resembling a handle on the situation. Homestuck, the webcomic, caused me to become drenched in sweat as I failed to exit a weekend that felt like a fever dream of pretentious narration, questionable characterization decisions, and... some really great and substantive moments. All I wanted was to be a useless piece of shit all day and read all these epilogues. Well, I did get that, and a lot more.

Homestuck.

The word keeps ramming itself through my brain ever since the epilogues came out two days ago, which already seems like a lifetime ago somehow. What was I even doing the day before that-- Homework that I'd been neglecting? Watching some anime? In any case, just about the only thing I knew for sure would happen is that I'd write some long, rambling, extremely pretentious essay. Actually, a ton of my predictions came true, but just not in the... fuck. I better get to the part where I actually review the god damn epilogue.

The Homestuck Epilogues are a masterfully written descent into insanity. And by descent, I really do mean that-- this isn't insanity the way Homestuck was. The epilogues depict the complete unraveling of the characters, their world(s), and the narrative itself, into a big clusterfuck pile that never even THINKS about stopping from getting taller, in a way that might as well be considered a cognitohazard by the SCP Foundation. I felt physically sick, at times, reading this. I broke out into sweat. When I woke up Sunday morning, having read all of Candy and a third of Meat, I legitimately felt like I had a hangover. A Homestuck hangover! Unbelievable. And from what I've heard, I am *far* from the only person who had this kind of reaction. This, truly, is a testament to the skill of the writing team here. I don't agree with every decision they made, but god DAMN did they accomplish what they (hopefully) set out to. And if this reaction was all an accident, they performed the literary equivalent of five-year-olds fucking around with a piece of chalk and some candles and accidentally summoning Satan.

I started out with Candy, because of V saying it was her preferred order and the first page of Meat being broken when the update first launched. I wanted to do that order anyway on some level, but I was worried that I'd run into spoilers for Meat so it would be better to get that out of the way first. In retrospect, I'm glad I read it the way I did-- I feel like there's more stuff in Candy that's explained in Meat than the other way around, and I was fortunate enough to not run into any spoilers for Meat. But Candy had more things in it TO spoil, honestly. I'll talk about Meat later on.

Candy was, as advertised, character focused, and it involved most of them acting in painful, self-destructive ways. And a lot of them felt OFF to me, and I don't know how to feel about it. Like, John points out how Roxy is a lot less skeptical and rebellious than she used to be (and this applies IMMEDIATELY to the beginning of Candy, and doesn't happen to nearly the same extent in Meat.) This is explicitly acknowledged in the story, and it feeds into John's thoughts about everyone except him and Terezi being "fake", so it's clearly intentional. And yet, Roxy calls out John for ever thinking about it that way in their final conversation. I noticed this "off"-ness for a lot of the characters-- Jade, Jane, even Dave to an extent. And it really feels like it was intentionally to psych out the reader? Like, "ha ha, you THOUGHT people were acting weird, but they really just grew up?" If it's that, they grew up in some strange directions that I'll get to later.

As for other Candy-specific stuff, I still don't get what the fuck was going on with Gamzee! Was there, like, a point to that? It never touched on him getting to post-apocalyptic Earth-C with Caliborn-- is that just the Gamzee that fell in the black hole, then? Why did Calliope need to get John to bring Gamzee back? Why did he have such a prominent role? Why did she and Roxy fall under his spell so hard? I don't get it. There's so many things about the epilogues I don't get, and I can't tell whether it's because it's so fucking dense that I couldn't possibly absorb all of it, or it's a legitimate problem on the epilogue's part. I feel like there's a black hole in the center of my mind every time I try to even COMPREHEND the Epilogues as a single, consistent thing. I've never doubted my ability to actually review something like this before.

Candy just went to INSANE territory with the time-skips, and the rebellions, and the fankids which simultaneously got too much screentime and deserved more development (*especially* Tavros). And the (Vriska) gag nearly had me falling out of my chair, when John renamed her. But yeah. For something so big, I feel like I should have something more to say about Candy specifically. Maybe I'm not as talkative as I could be about it because I read it first, and a lot of what I have to say applies to my general thoughts? Whatever, let's move on to Meat.

Meat, at first, felt like it was basically just a checklist of things John needed to do to technically, officially wrap up the plot of Homestuck. Go and collect versions of the kids. Check. Have them fight Caliborn (who got next to no screen time, but considering Dirk, I can't really blame anyone). Check. Get in the Juju... You get what I'm saying. All of that passed by slowly, methodically, without much weight beyond John's internal dialogue, up until the Lord English fight. This to me felt like it was Hussie saying, "You want RESOLUTION, you ungrateful motherfuckers who can't even appreciate a good anime? YOU WANT IT?" and trying to shove it into our stomachs as fast as possible. He really didn't want it to matter. Which... I get, since we already knew what was going to happen up until the actual Lord English fight. But the Game Over characters, besides arguably Dave, didn't get much attention at all character-wise. They might as well have been puppets with which to carry out John's (or Ultimate Dirk's I guess) bidding. Hussie probably didn't want to make the post-retcon versions redundant, retreat existing (and partially unseen) character development, or dangle even more meat (ha!) among the people who prefer the pre-retcon characters. But honestly, the epilogue actually does a lot to reduce the burn from jumping to a different set of characters with different experiences, which I'll elaborate on later.

The battle against Lord English was good. And my only complaint is that it wasn't ACTUALLY RENDERED AS SOME PANELS IN THE COMIC, GOD DAMN IT. Seriously, if John and Terezi's arc in the Meat epilogue had been done as a traditional MSPA comic added on after the credits, it wouldn't have been that bad of an epilogue, all things considered. The battle was a great read, and it did a good job selling what it would actually take to kill Lord English-- including Dave actually using the god damn Welsh sword. Good for him. Davepeta felt a little unnecessary (really, the vore joke right THERE?) but I thought they'd have a much bigger role, and since I'm not much of a fan of theirs I'm kind of glad they just showed up for that little bit of the epilogue. And John's scenes, just drifting through the end of the canon universe, are easily the best in the epilogue. He gets a genuinely coherent arc that shows off all his strengths as a person and as a character, and his scenes with Terezi are THE BEST in a way I never thought they'd get. Including the one where they fuck. I mean, damn. The only bullshit I can think of about John is how Lord English's tooth having some kind of magic cherub poison in it seems contrived. I mean, if Caliborn had something like that, he wouldn't have been able to shut up about it, and he would've used it earlier out of spite instead of death rainbow-ing everything in sight. But I guess it takes something pulled out of the authors' collective asses to finally, truly kill John Egbert, himself the beneficiary of a literal plot hole.

Oh yeah, and there's all that Dirk/Alt-Calliope stuff. Yeah. I'm going to have to make a stunning confession to you all right now-- I, METY, have never finished Detective Pony. I started it and got maybe like a quarter of the way through before dropping it. I can say that's because it's pretty difficult to read on a phone and I always have other stuff to do when I'm on my PC, but that's just an excuse. I have to finish it. But regardless, I think what just rammed through my brain either gets close to or out-Detective Ponys Detective Pony. Holy SHIT was that a lot of Dirk. And in his Dirk-y way, his plans are *just* complex enough for their complexity to distract you from how much of a fucking bastard he can be, or in the case of the Meat epilogue, *is*. I never really cared that much about Dirk and stayed away from the people who argue about him all the time (my poison of choice is Vriskourse, thank you very much), but I'm sure the people who defended him are in a crisis of purpose about now. (Or not. They were always pretty weird.)  And as for Alt-Calliope... I don't really get where they were going with her? Wasn't her whole point that she wasn't ever going to be relevant, or even talk to literally anyone, ever again? What does she even want? And why is she getting so involved (by her standards) with mortal affairs? She had some good moments, particularly shutting down Dirk, but she's nowhere near as compelling as he is. I guess she does make a good foil, though-- a true solemn presence in response to Dirk's Homestuck-y bullshit.

Hell, maybe that's why Dirk never touched the Candy epilogue? He wants something truer to the "Homestuck" experience-- he's a villainous version of Hussie, even more so than Caliborn was. And that's what Meat is, kind of, at least at first. Definitely in the case of his narration and all the metaness involved with it, which is a lot more blatant than it is in Candy. He's like me, and a lot of the people on the subreddit and discord, really. Wanting to keep Homestuck to our vision of what Homestuck is, or was at its best. Which isn't inherently a bad thing, but might not be great either.

Okay. So now, finally, onto my general thoughts about some things I said I would mention later. Mostly about the directions they took various characters and ships. This is in general order from whether I dislike the direction they took to whether I like it.

The Bad:

**Jane.** I don't think I've ever met anyone who said Jane was their favorite character, but her character seems unnecessarily fucked over in both sides of the Epilogue. I get what they were going for with her descent into authoritarianism, and understand why she has it in her to be a dictator. But they make her out to be a complete xenophobic, abusive rapist without even showing how she turned into all of that! Like, yeah, she'd be an insidious dictator, but I think she'd still be one who's not awful to the people she considers friends. I think the authors wanted someone they could use as a villain to make statements about current politics with, and they picked Jane because she has the best backstory for it and was never one of the most popular or developed characters. And that's why I'm not particularly mad about this-- I never liked her all that much. But mostly it was out of finding her boring. How on Earth (C) do you get from her Act 6 self to... what she becomes? She was treated with the same lack of sympathy reserved for characters like Gamzee who have already demonstrated themselves to be awful. John even points out that his Nanna (both of whom are conspicuously unmentioned) was never anything even remotely like Epilogue Jane in his timeline. Where did it all come from?

Jade. Okay. I get why she became a character dominated by her sexual exploits. Dog hormones plus spending the vast majority of her life basically alone is a powerful combination. But is that *really* all there is to write about her!? When she's not making Dave and/or Karkat incredibly uncomfortable, she's returned to her classic Homestuck position of being a plot device, this time spending most of Meat being a vessel for Alt-Calliope. I was hoping the Epilogue would give some much-needed attention to her, always the most maligned of the Beta Kids, but as usual the narrative fucked her over and spat her out. I really think she was written this way in order to sink DaveJade and Jadekat by virtue of making those ships less appealing in comparison to Davekat, and I kind of hate that it worked on me because Best Girl Jade Harley deserves better, god dammit. I understand what she became as an adult, and I don't have the problems with her development I do with Jane, but she deserved BETTER THAN WHAT SHE GOT! Literally every Jade ship also falls into the Losers pile here, of course, especially ones involving Dave and Karkat.

Roxy. They mostly subsume themself into John's story in the Candy arc until their final conversation, which serves the purpose of John's whole narrative of learning that the world doesn't revolve around him (anymore). But, as I mentioned before, they still act out of character throughout Candy in refusing to be assertive in any way or express any remotely contradictory feelings to John. This is addressed in their final conversation in Candy, in which she calls out John for being self-centered and says his thoughts are just because he's comparing a bunch of grown adults who've changed a lot to their teenage selves. But, as I discussed, we're supposed to know where John is coming from. It's intentionally written to make us doubt the characters' authenticity, almost as if the narrative itself is gaslighting us. And the Roxy we've seen in the comic definitely was not so much of a sycophant as to never question anything at all. Where are the skepticism and opinions that they show in Act 6? Ultimately, in Candy, their role is just to fuck with John and the audience, at the expense of getting actual attention and development as a character, with the exception of that last conversation. Meat is a little better, since there they aren't so intensely out-of-character, but there they take a very low-key role in the story that mostly just revolves around their experimentation with gender identity. And don't get me wrong-- that was some interesting stuff, and it was presented in a way I've never seen the subject handled in any work of media. But they didn't have anything to do besides that. I also liked that their relationship with Callie was treated as highly ambiguous, and not described as a romantic relationship by the human idea of the term. Part of me thinks Roxy should've swapped roles, in effect, with Dave-- Dave could stay in the background except to make some Dave-isms and talk about LGBT issues, and Roxy could do all of that on top of something interesting. Maybe their relationship with Jane could've been explored! Just a waste of potential, to me.

The sprites: I mean, I was never a huge fan of them, especially the ones created at the very end just to shoehorn in some more bullshit. So I'm actually kind of glad they're absent-- but none of them besides Davepeta even got mentioned! This is a pretty egregious omission, especially since the Credits show that the sprites all made it over to Earth C. Jasprose, as annoying as she gets, would have been absolutely worth at least bringing up with all the crap Rose went through. And John brings up his Nanna, but not the fact that there should be two of them on that planet, right now! Just a really weird absence that doesn't change the plot much but still feels wrong.

The Neutral/Could Go Either Way:

Gamzee. Why did he have to come back? Not only am I complaining about him coming back, but I'm pretty sure the literal version of that question wasn't answered. What made Calliope get John to bring him back? Was it for the sole purpose of being a red herring? I really don't get it. That being said, he makes the Neutral section because he actually did add a lot to the incredibly unsettling vibe that Candy had, and the point he's used to make about redemption arcs is a good one that immediately made clear that Candy won't be about that. And, of course, his death scene is great, but it makes one wonder if he only got to fight Vriska because he's one of the few characters capable of making her look good.

Dirk. I've already talked about him.

Dave. Look, Dave is great and he always has been. But he is the last character to deserve the amount of attention he got in the Epilogues. He got, by far, the most complete and conclusive arc in Homestuck proper, and I was hoping that some characters who late Homestuck kind of screwed over would get more development. But, nope. Nothing but the best for the author's (most sympathetic) self-insert, I guess. That being said, even if he didn't deserve it, most of his content was great. I liked him better in Meat since he mostly just stuck with Karkat and was relatively unimportant, but Candy still told a great story of his love, loss, and identity crisis that turned out to not be as completely wrapped up as we thought. Still, though-- his newfound obsessions with Obama and the economy got old incredibly quickly, and become far more repetitive than anything he said in the comic, which is all particularly disappointing coming from a character known for his creativity. Sure, the Obama scene was hilarious and poignant, but was the payoff really worth having him bringing that up constantly? I'm fine with Woke Dave, and him legitimately getting super into politics could have been an interesting direction for him. Using him as a vehicle for endlessly repetitive comments is just a disappointment for what could have been and for what we already had.

Karkat. I don't have all that much to say about him, honestly. I'm happy that he finally got to fulfill his destiny as a leader, but he was still pretty much treated as a joke throughout the entire epilogue, even in the scenes after he's leading the rebellion. It's like the narrative won't let us directly observe a moment of triumph for him. It would've been nice if he was the more prominent character out of his relationship with Dave, though, because he deserved the development a lot more. Also, he gets credit for the best one-liner in the Epilogues: "What the fuck is a calisthenic? Is that the name of your fan cherub?"

Terezi. I can't believe they legitimately let her get over Vriska, but I'll talk more about their relationship later. Overall, I feel really conflicted about what they did with her (besides shipping decisions). The story of her running away from all the supposed perfectness of Earth-C made her a great partner for John, but that's it--- everything she does until she crashes back into the Meat Earth-C revolves around John. Of course, considering I read Candy ==> Meat, I read Terezi's experiences with John in chronological order from her perspective, so who knows what I'd think of it if I read Meat first. Don't get me wrong, her relationship with John was incredible on just about every level, but why did she pick *him* as basically the only person she ever talked to in the first place? Yeah, her lack of closeness with any of the Meteor people other than Vriska is a consequence of the Retcon (another reason to hate the Retcon even after the Epilogues), but I still don't understand why she couldn't talk to anyone else. Maybe it was her latent crush on John, or lingering feelings about the Retcon from accessing her Game Over self's memories? Either way, though, even if she never really got to talk to anyone besides John and I never got why Dirk coaxed her onto his spaceship, she did a far better job as a satellite character of John's than Roxy was (and considering how blatantly her own issues are dealt with, she's considerably less of a satellite).

The Good:

Davekat. Yeah. I can't believe I'm saying this, but after being against it or at least reluctantly accepting of it since Vriskagram, I now wholeheartedly support Davekat. And a lot of people who hung around the subreddit back when Davekat first happened that were far more emphatically against it than I seem to agree, from what I've seen. Making it so Dave and Karkat never officially established their relationship in canon was an excellent move that softens the abruptness of their relationship from the viewers' perspective and actually gives us the catharsis of watching them get together. Ever since I stopped being a complete anti-Davekat belligerent I thought that Hussie could get me to ship Davekat if he actually put effort into selling it and showed us how they'd work in a relationship, and I never thought I'd be this happy to be right about it. Dave and Karkat's best moments in the Epilogues come from when they act as the Greek chorus to the insanity surrounding them, and complement each other immensely as two low-key guys who, deep down, really just want to be useless pieces of shit all day as the world devolves into insanity around them. The confession scene was, after reading the tragedy of Candy first, one hundred percent earned, and an excellent moment of catharsis mixed with pure fluff. The only conclusion I can possibly come to is that they're perfect for each other. There. I said it. My only problems with it are how even though I'm on board with Davekat it still felt like Jade was fucked over for the express purpose of making shipping her with Dave and/or Karkat less appealing, and that it makes the all the talk about Dave and Karkat dating in A6A6I5 retroactively untrue. But overall, I'm very happy with how this ship got treated.

Vrisrezi. Yeah, Vrisrezi got DEMOLISHED by the Epilogues, which absolutely shocked me. I was *certain* that Vriska would get her happy ending and make out with Terezi and all that. I believed thoroughly that this would happen because Vriska is Vriska, and she always gets what she wants no matter how awful it would be for everyone around her or how much the narrative has to bend over to make it happen. I also know that Vrisrezi is overwhelmingly popular with the Homestuck Twitter community that regularly interacts with official Homestuck people, so I thought it was basically a lock. Turns out I didn't have enough faith in Hussie. Yes, Vrisrezi fans are the losers here, but I'm certainly not! Vriska and Terezi never so much as SPOKE to each other, and the Meat ending especially demolished all possibility of it happening. Terezi even called Vriska a bitch! As someone who always thought post-Retcon Vrisrezi was at least borderline abusive, I am pleasantly surprised by this outcome.

(Vriska). This is, by far, the most surprising thing to me on this lit. But I actually liked how (Vriska) was handled in the epilogues. A lot! As I said, I firmly expected (Vriska) to get whatever she wants, but she finally the fate she deserves: being completely irrelevant and irredeemable. She literally drops in out of nowhere, and is faced with a new world that is completely apathetic to her shenanigans. Her epilogue arc is short, to-the-point, and doesn't interfere with any arcs besides Earth C Vriska's, with whom she has a good conversation (on top of Gamzee's dead body, no less). I don't think she ever talks to anyone besides those two and John. Between this, and maintaining her absolute irredeemability within the context of the story, I think this is probably the best way Vriska could've possibly been handled in the epilogue, even if I still believe she never should've come back to life in the first place.

John. Yeah, he's the main beneficiary of "main character privilege", but god damn does the epilogue really pull off TWO great character arcs for him. I talked about both of them earlier, but let no one say John is ever a bland character. I preferred his role in Meat, as it mainly focused on the implications and aftermath of beating Sburb, but his Candy arc tells an excellent story of isolation and how many loved ones John is willing to alienate in order to stand up for what he thinks is right. All this is helped by how his characterization is, by far, the least altered of any character who gets a large amount of screen time in the epilogues, making his part of the story feel more like a direct continuation of his role in Homestuck than something new for him to do. In fact, it's almost weird how little he changes in Candy as the timeskips really start to pile up. But I'm okay with that. John's role in the Epilogues, I believe, is to provide an anchor, something the reader knows that, whatever happens, will always be there for them. And he does just that-- remaining the person we always thought he was. (Until he dies, I guess. But it was about time death finally caught up to that guy.)

JohnRezi. I was always kind of apprehensive at this ship. I didn't like the idea that kismesissitude wasn't all that different from the human understanding of romance instead of the unknowable alien emotion it was originally presented as, and even though they had some fun interactions, black JohnRezi felt so forced to me during late Homestuck. I still don't get why the normally noncombative John kept calling Terezi, and Terezi alone, all those names even though she wasn't doing anything particularly annoying at the time, and their conversations in earlier acts were never anything like that. But I wasn't expecting the ship to get much focus at all in the epilogues, with my certainty that Terezi would end up with Vriska, so I never really put much thought into it. Plus, unlike Davekat, it never interfered with anything I actually shipped. But, in yet ANOTHER case of my shipping expectations being completely demolished, JohnRezi ended up being possibly the best character decision to happen in the Epilogue. Their relationship has so much chemistry and genuine affection for each other, and their general disassociation with the world around them makes them them excellent partners-- they're the only ones who truly haven't been able to move on from the game. Reading Candy, I just felt *refreshed* every single time I read one of their conversations, as they represented a break from the complete insanity happening in the rest of the story. And in Meat, I finally got on board with them as a couple, even if I still don't think I've fully accepted that John Egbert of all people got laid-- as one of his *dying acts*. But I am now completely on board with JohnRezi, even if I choose to interpret it as more red than black. This was probably intentional on the Epilogues' part, as JohnRoxy wasn't portrayed very well, but I think it might be my new favorite John ship. I now associate Do You Remem8er Me with those two, as I had it playing in the background during the chapter where Terezi formally gets over Vriska and they confess their feelings to one another. I am 100% ready for JohnRezi content. Bring it on. My only question is, remember that time she literally killed him as a prank? Maybe not the best baggage for the couple to have. But I'm okay with it. This was an overwhelming success by the Epilogues that resulted in a swift change in a shipping opinion for me, and I couldn't be happier about it.

And obviously there's far more I could talk about, but I spent four days writing this and at this point I just want to be fucking done already before the experience of reading these reviews becomes similar to that of reading the Epilogues themselves. I bet hardly anyone actually made it this far, anyway. (Hi, Nerdorama!) Either way, it's kind of amazing that much of what I enjoyed about the Epilogues was how they handled some of the things I was the most pessimistic about.

Before I conclude, I'd like to give my thoughts on something I've seen a lot of debate about-- the conclusion, or questionable amount thereof. Candy didn't really get an ending, which fits its themes, but the controversy comes with the Meat ending, in which Dirk and company fly up away in a spaceship like a fucking piece of garbage, and the rest of the cast follows suit. I've seen people mad about it for not actually resolving the plot, and leaving off on yet another cliffhanger. But when I read it, I didn't interpret it like that at all. Despite all the meta fuckery we see in the Epilogues, this is actually a pretty typical "And The Adventure Continues…" type ending seen in media countless times, with the heroes riding off into the sunset for parts unknown. It's not comparable to Act 7, and doesn't particularly require a continuation, because it doesn't have anything to do at all with what was actually established in Homestuck. Act 7 and the Credits didn't work by themselves as an ending for Homestuck because there were all kinds of character loose ends and plot threads that never got tied up. "How the hell did the main villain get defeated" is a perfectly reasonable legitimate question to be mad about. However, I've come to realize that this is a matter of perspective-- The Homestuck Epilogues work well as a conclusion to Homestuck, but not themselves, and it was really only the former that I particularly cared about. I guess I just didn't register anything original to the Epilogue as something that "matters" in the broader context of Homestuck, or I couldn't bring myself to care about what happens afterwards.

And that brings me, after five thousand god damn words, to the second half of the title. I couldn't bring myself to care about not every plot thread from the Epilogues getting wrapped up because an overwhelming feeling I got while reading them was that I should distance myself from Homestuck altogether. The Epilogues were such a brutal, emotionally draining experience to push myself through that by the end I just wanted the suffering to be over to the point that I considered whether it was at all a good thing for me to allow myself to get to that point in the first place. I mean, seriously-- can anything that causes me to wake up with what I described as a "Homestuck hangover" on the second day of my readthrough really be healthy for me? Of course, the fact that this monstrosity exists, and the fact that I got a fanfic idea from reading the epilogue shows that that's clearly not going to happen, but still. I just read a piece of literature that was so well-written and evoked its desired feelings so much that it convinced me that I should care less about it. And *that* is why, no matter what I think about the epilogue, it is transparently obvious that it was a masterwork on a technical level.

Someone, I forget who, told Candy John that things aren't conclusive unless you want them to be. And so I said the Epilogues had a satisfactory, conclusive ending pretty much entirely because I wanted that to happen. That is the product of two straight days of a descent into madness, which lead into four straight days of writing down a small fraction of the thoughts and feelings they produced. Because, ultimately, I think the Homestuck Epilogues are unreviewable, at least by me. My brain is too small, my chakras too un-blitzed to even begin to comprehend it as a single entity-- that's why this "review" is really just a bunch of mini-reviews of smaller parts of the Epilogues. That's why when I finished reading it, I felt like bashing my head against the wall until an epiphany came, and when inevitably nothing came I'd feel disappointed despite knowing it was never going to happen.

So… That is what I think of the Epilogues, and the like one or two things I learned from them. I cannot thank you enough for reading this whole thing, if anyone actually did.

See you next time I have way too many thoughts about something!

[bleucheesy]

Shklance Gym AU (Modern AU) Part 8

Obligatory @puppybek and @starchildkeith​​ tags~♥ Parts 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Also available on AO3.

Reminder: They’re all over 20 (not that there’s any frisky business, but still)

Keith groaned, kicking the sheets away from his overheated body and flopping onto his other side. His bangs were plastered to his forehead and his clothes clung to him in the worst way.

Well, at least his fever had broken.

It was his own fault. He knew. He’d felt off the entire time at the gym, but he figured it was just fatigue from all the hours he’d picked up at work. Of course, when he nearly dropped a kettlebell onto his foot, he decided enough was enough and told his boyfriends that he was going to go for a run and that he’d meet them at home after.

Big mistake. If the tunnel vision wasn’t enough of a warning, maybe the way the buildings started to slant was. He’d stopped then, bracing a hand against the nearest light post, his vision swimming.

Keith could almost hear Lance’s voice. “Are you sure you just don’t want us to walk you home?” But he shook his head. It was too late now. Still, he turned around and began on the path back to their apartment.

And then it started raining.

Flash forward to the following morning, where Keith had woken up with a fever of just over 104°F. Lance had completely freaked out, fussing over him and sticking cool, damp towels between his thighs, under his armpits, and on his forehead.

Shiro had witnessed Keith sick before, so he was much calmer. Though, there was a worried crease in his brow.

“I’m fine...” Keith croaked, his skin on fire. “My temperature usually runs a little high, anyway.”

“Not this high!” Lance shrieked and then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I knew we should have walked you home.”

Guilt welled up inside Keith. He’d been the one to go off on his own. Lance and Shrio had offered to leave early. He’d just been stubborn. As usual.

“Come on,” Keith interrupted what Lance had started to say to Shiro. “You two have work this morning,” he paused, bleary gaze shifting to Lance. “And don’t you have an exam this afternoon?”

“I do, but-”

“But nothing,” Keith said. “I’ll be fine. Just leave me a bowl of ice chips.”

Lance hesitated, but, judging by how light it was in their bedroom, he was probably borderline late for work as it was. “Fine,” he replied. “But I’ll come check on you before my test, okay?”

Keith closed his eyes and nodded, barely registering the soft press of surprisingly cool lips on his damp forehead.

“And I’ll pick up some takeout on the way home tonight,” Shiro promised, smoothing Keith’s hair. “You just rest. There’re cans of soup in the cabinet if you feel up to it.”

“Yes, yes. I’m not a baby,” Keith said, vaguely waving his hand in Shiro’s direction. “Now get out before you’re both late.”

They did finally leave, but only after Lance made sure Keith took some medicine.

Hours passed with Keith drifting in and out of consciousness. Until, finally, his fever broke. He felt gross, his entire body drenched in sweat. And once he untangled himself from his mess of blankets - thank you, Lance - he threw his legs over the edge of the mattress, giving a pleased hum as the cool air hit his heated flesh.

Let it be known that Keith had run his fair share of marathons. Sure, he used to be a sprinter, but long distances weren’t uncommon for him. However... The walk from the bed to their ensuite bathroom was the most difficult thing he’d ever attempted.

He stumbled twice, his entire body aching from the fever. But he did manage to reach his goal, tipping forward and letting his cheek press against the almost chilly tile flooring.

A shower seemed to be too tall an order, so he settled for a cool bath. He turned the tap and waited for the tub to fill, weakly wrestling out of his damp clothing. And if the bathmat hadn’t been bunched uncomfortably under his naked form, he would have laid there all day.

Still, with the remainder of his strength, Keith pulled himself up and plopped into the tub with a splash. Water sloshed over the edge, but he’d clean it up later. Besides, it wasn’t much, the tub was still filling, after all.

The sound of rushing water was soothing and Keith let his eyelids flutter shut. He’d turn off the faucet in a minute.

Keith awoke to the sound of someone shouting his name. There were hands on his shoulders as a blurry face slowly came into focus. “...Lance?”

“What were you thinking?!” he demanded, his expression a mix between anger and fear. It took Keith a moment to realize that Lance was in the tub with him, still wearing all of his clothes, down to his shoes. “Damn...I thought-”

“Hey, I’m okay,” Keith reassured him.

“Okay?” Lance repeated, pulling back. “I come home to find you unconscious in the tub with half of the bathroom flooded and all you have to say is that you’re okay?!”

Oh. He must have forgotten to turn off of the faucet. “My bad.”

Lance opened his mouth and then shut it, giving him the most incredulous of looks. “Your bad...” He shook his head. “All right, well, I shut off the water. Let’s get you out and dry and then I’ll mop up this mess.” He ran a wet hand through his hair and it was then that Keith noticed how badly Lance was shaking.

“Hey,” he said, catching his attention. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He meant it. He’d intended to take a quick bath, just to wash off the sweat. He definitely hadn’t planned on losing their security deposit. He reached a hand up to cup Lance’s cheek. “I’m really sorry.”

Lance’s face softened. “Well, it's not like you did it on purpose. So, no biggie.” He smiled then, all warm and pleasant, looking beautiful despite being so soggy. Lance really was gorgeous. And...Keith suddenly remembered that he was naked.

“Could you get me a towel?” he asked and Lance chuckled, easing himself out of the tub and removing his own sopping wet clothing before grabbing two fluffy towels from the linen closet. He helped Keith up and then wrapped one around him.

“Now, get onto the bed and don’t move a muscle,” he ordered. “I’ll get you into your pajamas when I’m done cleaning up in here.”

“Yes, Mom,” Keith said, rolling his eyes, though it sort of lost its effect when he nearly fell over. He did catch himself, though.

But Lance just rolled with it. “Don’t speak to your mother that way,” he said, with a teasing little smirk. “Just wait until your father gets home.” He stuck his tongue out and Keith mirrored him before stepping back into the bedroom and staggering over to the bed.

He flopped onto the mattress and sighed, the water droplets on his back rapidly cooling his still warm skin. He could hear Lance singing to himself as he threw a few more towels onto the floor, soaking up the mess Keith had made. He was so lucky to have him. Both his boyfriends, actually. They were so good to him...

Keith drifted off to the sound of his boyfriend’s dulcet tones and, when he woke up again later, clothed in a fresh pair of pajamas, and his nostrils filling with the delicious aroma of Chinese takeout, he understood just how lucky he was.

Wow, this one went super long!! I’m sorry and, also, you’re welcome? ^^;;

I know they didn’t go to the gym again in this one, but this is a sick day gift for the fabulous @puppybek​ ~ Glad you’re feeling better, my love!! ♥

[sickficksandmorr]

Part 2

"Yeah." Yuri shrugged. "Why?" Yurio's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You don't seem to like your nickname and I figured that since you're sick I would try to make an effort to not irritate you." Yurio smiled fondly at the older male and layed back down, replacing the cloth on his head. He didn't say anything and instead yawned. Yuri picked his book back up and tried to find his place again. ... Yurio's eyes opened and he looked around. Yuri was still beside the bed reading his book. Yurio wondered for a moment why he was awake. Then his stomach twisted horribly. He let out an audible gasp and very quickly untangled his hand from the sheets to press it firmly against his mouth. Saliva was rushing into his mouth and he had to swallow thickly multiple times to keep it from pooling out of his mouth. He sat up as Yuri put his book down again. The cloth slid off his face and he caught it in his lap. "Are you going to be sick?" Yuri asked, picking up the trashcan that had been sitting beside the bed. Yurio nodded. The trashcan was placed in his lap and he grabbed it with both hands, giving up on swallowing all the saliva, allowing himself to drool pitifully into the basin. He was secretly thankful for the hand that found its way to his back. He was glad to have some sort of comfort is his time of weakness. He coughed a couple times before he heaved, bringing up a thin stream of bile. A few more heaves and he was done. He was eternally grateful that the fit hadn't lasted forever like the last one had seemed to. The only thing that he could think about in that moment was how much he wished his grandfather was there. Tears sprang up in his eyes as he handed the trashcan to Yuri. "What's wrong?" Yuri asked, placing the trashcan back on the ground. "Does your head still hurt?" "I miss my grandpa..." Yurio whined, putting his face in his hands and trying his hardest to choke back tears. He would have jumped up and ran away if he had the energy when Yuri hugged him, but he was exhausted and no matter how hard he might deny it, it felt good to be held like that. He begrudgingly leaned into the tender embrace. Victor kicked open the door at that moment. "I got so much medicine!" The two Yuris looked over to the Victor. "I didn't know what to get because I can't read Japanese, but I asked around and just got everything that helped with either nausea or fever." Victor explained. Then he looked up from his bags. "Am I interrupting something?" The Yuris nodded in unison. Victor's voice dropped to a whisper. "Okay I'm sorry. I will come back later then." He then tried to stealthily speak out of the room as if he had never been spotted in the first place. Yurio chuckled and tore himself away from Yuri. "I'm sorry I broke down like that." He stated, drying his tears. "It's fine. Everyone needs to cry sometimes." Yuri smiled. Yurio frowned and laid back down. "Thanks for taking care of me..." Yuri's smile deepened. ... Yurio want sure when he fell asleep but now he was having a nightmare. It had started off as a good dream. He was on the ice and his grandfather was watching him in the audience. He was nailing every jump and every spin was excellently executed. Praise from all around him came raining down upon him like a shower. Then suddenly, in his second half, he fell face-first on the ice. His stomach twisted painfully and as he scrambled up to continue with his routine, the crowd began to boo and hiss. Now angry with himself, he started skating with much more passion, but his movements were sluggish and he felt like he was being held back by invisible weights weighing down on all of his limbs. Now every jump was so hard to execute, he could hardly get off the ice and he sure as hell couldn't get any spins in without falling flat on his face. He spared a glance at his grandfather. The old man was shaking his head. He got up and walked out of the stadium. "No!" Yurio yelled, reaching out towards his grandfather's departing figure. Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to skate as fast as he could. He could feel himself moving but it looked like he wasn't going anywhere. The ice started cracking under his weight. Forgetting about finishing his routine, he turned and started skating towards the exit and Yakov started waving him over. His movements were excruciatingly slow. As the ice cracked and broke around him the churning of his stomach finally got the best of him and he dropped to his knees, getting sick in the center of the ring. Laughs echoed all around him as the crowd roared. Yurio woke with a start, bolting upright and throwing the cloth off his head in the process. He checked around himself and realized that he had not puked on himself in his sleep. Which was good. He sighed and laid back down, looking to where Yuri had been sitting. He wasn't there any more and Yurio guessed he had gone off to bed. Feeling a little alone and scared to go back to sleep by himself, Yurio slipped out of bed and stumbled down to Yuri's room. He knocked on the older male's door and tried to look as miserable as he possibly could. When a sleepy looking Yuri opened the door, Yurio's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Yuri's eyes widened when he saw just who was standing there. And how bad he looked. Yurio looked about three shades paler than he had earlier and his cheeks were flushed about three shades darker than earlier. He had dark circled under his eyes and he was drenched in sweat. He had a miserable expression on his face. "Yurio! What's wrong?!" Yuri was now fully awake and scanning the sick boy. Yurio looked a little apprehensive at first. "...I had a nightmare... Can I sleep with you?" Yuri yelled over his shoulder, "Victor! Move over!" Then softly and directed towards Yurio, "come on in! Do you still feel sick?" Yurio nodded as he stepped into the room. He noticed Victor scooting to the far edge of the bed. "Are you sure your bed will fit all three of us?" "No, but if it doesn't I can sleep on the floor." Yurio was fine with that. The teenager was guided to the bed and sat down on the edge. Yuri placed a trashcan beside the bed then crawled in the middle after grabbing a book and a flashlight. They both laid down and though it was a tight fit it still worked out alright. Yurio laid on his side, facing away from Yuri as the older man played with the youngsters hair. Yurio fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. ... Yurio woke up feeling like he was vomiting already. He leaned over the side of the bed and retched loudly into the trashcan. Yuri put down his book and propped the sick teenager up so he didn't fall out of bed. Victor stirred. "Is he throwing up again?" "Yeah. Just go back to sleep, love I can handle it." Yuri stated. Victor did not take the offer to go back to sleep however, and instead shimmied out of bed. By the time Victor came back, the fit had ended, leaving Yurio a limp, shivering ball of misery allowing himself to be held by a concerned Yuri. Victor had some nausea medication and a glass of water. He handed them off to the exhausted teenager. "It should help with your tummy." Victor informed when he was met with a glare. Yurio glared for a minuet more before taking the medicine begrudgingly. It stayed down for about half a minuet. Then poor Yurio was forced to quickly lean back over the bed to be sick again.

[recovery-queen]

I think my fever finally broke. I'm not positive, but I woke up from a nap literally drenched in sweat, so I have a feeling I'm right.

[lalunangel]

Ojo.

I have a lot of stories where eyes would touch my skin and harm me just because I had something they lacked.. But the last time I had gotten it I was 14 and I assumed I was finally acceptable by the nature of adult women and men. I was not. In North Carolina a pair of evil eyes grazed and racked my body in a little black dress and green cardigan. My sister said I looked like Marry Poppins. I felt cute and empowered. But that entire night I sat there.. She was staring at me.. I assumed it was because my hair was red.. And I looked like christmas. I have it written down in a journal I took with me.. About how this woman made me feel. I was uncomfortable under her gaze and slowly I started to weaken and feel sick. I got cold chills and the fever I broke befire boarding my plane shot up. I was shaking. When they introduced me as one of the bridesmaids I felt everyones necks break to judge me.. But her eyes never left. I know it was her because her boyfriend spoke to me and I didn’t know and I laughed and told him I was only 19... and not interested. He laughed and said he understood and I was glad we moved on from it but her tension never broke with me. I finally had enough before my meal even arrived.. My eyes were itching and burning. My skin was crawling. I needed to go to our hotel room. I ran back. I left and sat on a chair taking my normal medicine to ease my throat and head of the pounding. I took my antidepressants and decided when it kicked in.. I would be okay and that a shower was necessary. I kicked off my cute shoes.. And pulled my cardigan off.. And i eventually pulled my dress off... but the moment my undergarments came off my breasts and thighs were in agony.. i started shaking.. crying naked on the restroom floor.. pain.. pain.. my eyes swelled up and everything was thick milky white... everything... blurry... I cried... I knew no one would come back for hours but i cried... and cried begging for someone to come help me... i couldn’t move. My fever felt high before but here my skin was on fire.. i crawled to the door and climbed up and put on pajamas... and crawled to my bed and cried more... I woke up to hands.. hands on my skin.. cold.. “Breathe Angel.. please breathe” I didn’t think much of that comment but i gasped for air after listening.. cold hands and when i opened my eyes... my dad was there and i cried.. i screamed it wasn’t fair... and when i closed my eyes again and opened my sister was there crying... “You stopped breathing” the bed drenched in my sweat.. My skin felt clammy.. I could have died here and no one would have known.. I opened my mouth and said “I want dad” and she cried and hugged my arm and said “I’m here don’t go” and i gasped for air more just to calm down my pulse.. I couldn’t breathe.. My eyes hurt. It hurt to look. my body was in flames still and i still had chills... I couldn’t swallow.. i couldn’t talk for long.. all i did was cry.. like a mute baby.. i fell asleep again after.. tons of hands on my body when i woke up “is she okay?” “why is her skin turning that color” “can she breathe” “she’s not contagious so why is she still sick” “we need to take her to the emergency room” “i can’t afford that” “angel please don’t die here” and i didn’t feel like i was going to be okay.. but i didn’t think i was going to die. I just thought my skin needed to be washed inside and out and my bones soaked in milk. I woke up hours later gasping for air again and someone’s gloved hand shoved down my throat and i gagged on it and cried... whoever it was grabbed my swollen tonsil and pulled their fingers back out and said “the blood is from her throat” and i clung to their arm hoping they’d take care of me.. they’d help me.. my eyes open but all i saw was white... and then i screamed “MAKE IT STOP MOM” and she touched my forehead and said “I’m trying baby i’m trying stay with me” I must have stopped breathing a lot.. i must’ve been coughing up blood on my pillow.. i must’ve been bad to see because that night felt like days alone.

so many people came in and out of my room that night and at some point i got annoyed with hands touching me and pain shooting shock waves through every part of me.. so i said “Egg. Ojo. Please” and my mom automatically understood my demand.. and she waited for my water and my egg to be room temp and she prayed over me and rubbed it across my skin. I don’t know why I thought of this pain as the same of ojo.. but it was.. and I wanted it gone.. an hour after she blessed my skin i could open my eyes and see the world.. my egg had fried in the water.. i was in a downward spiral fast and with my fever being so high... and not able to be broken.. and no medicine helping... i could’ve been in the hospital the next day.. i opened my eyes and the family my tía was marrying into was standing by my bedside looking about ready to take me.. but when i opened my eyes and my body temp had reduced back to its normal heat.. they hugged me.. and i laughed weakly.. my swollen throat.. gone... my headache gone.. my shitty vision gone.. my breasts and thighs no longer hurt.. and i could stand on my own.. i could breathe.. everything i was experiencing was gone.. and grandma and my sister saw me sit up and ran to my side and my sister was crying... “I thought you were going to die you stopped breathing a lot and the blood was everywhere” and i just smiled and said “Death could never take me away from you” and i laid my head on her shoulder.. I wasn’t going to die. But i felt close.. and i kept seeing and hearing my dads voice.. and i kept calling out for him.. but it could’ve all been a dream.. I took a shower and dressed more modest like.. but i shouldn’t have to.

I shouldn’t have to change my dress or my style for the sake of some assholes confidence. I shouldn’t have to hide MY BODY. It’s my choice and no matter what IM NOT ASKING TO BE RAPED OR GIVEN OJO! I was livid and at the wedding that same girl was wearing a slutty outfit and before i graduated i was soft and kind and forgiving BUT ILL BE DAMNED YOU HAVE A GOOD NIGHT WHILE YOU CAUSED ME SO MUCH SUFFERING THE NIGHT BEFORE! So i spilt meatballs and vegetables and ranch on her. loved your jumper, hated you. it was stained and it looked awful and she had to go change INTO SOMETHING MORE MODEST! FUCK YOU! My grandma played with my hair and told me “She deserves it but you should’ve let what was coming come” and i said “More is to come when envious eyes poison innocent skin” and true to form we were playing with fireworks at the wedding venue and her new dress got burned for flirting with someone else and her boyfriend cheated on her with one of my older cousins. And she was mad at me as if i had invoked evil. ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO SMELL LIKE MEATBALLS! The universe is tired of your shit and let you have what you deserved. I didn’t laugh because that’s ugly. But my grandma looked at me and said “The universe doesn’t show you always but it loves you more than you could imagine” and i said “She hurt other girls before me. It was bound to happen. It’s just unfortunate for her that the universe does side with me more often than not” And it does. Every ounce of pain and suffering i’ve found that the world brings it back times three to people who harm me. My mom.. I don’t want to explain but she got hers after she had wished me dead.. and all i replied was with the same malicious comment she said to me. my sister.. i’m sorry you didn’t deserve this but at the same time you should’ve just stopped when i asked. my ex boyfriend/roommate YOUR EYESIGHT IS GETTING WORSE BUT ITS BECAUSE ALL YOU DID WAS CHEAT ON ME SLUT! Anyone who’s ever been rude and hurt me severely has been met with something awful and I dont hope for terrible things.. but they come. They come they come they come. if you wish to cast blame.. Theres a protection spell on my skin from my great grandmother... that blesses me... from when she met me... to now.. until the end of time.. She saw what they would do to me.. and blessed me. So as long as i am alive... i will never worry about seeking revenge myself. it comes on its own. but i really did wanna throw meatballs at her because i wanted to wear my cute dress and dance and be happy.. but like i say. It’s coming. The universe broke my heart for the last time and watched me rise from those ashes laughing and surviving.. i might not be evil but whatever it is that desires me to live is. it’s not afraid of consequences either.

[bigheartbigfart]

Like an Angel in the Night

I recently did such a fun commission, in which I combined two historical dramas into one! This was a lot of fun for me, because I took a senior seminar in Medieval Literature and was familiar with some of the historical characters! I also really enjoyed getting to know the character in both of the shows. 

Please note that this fic is kind of long, but definitely worth the read! 

Enjoy! 

⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ Commission ⛤ ⛤ ⛤Donate ⛤ ⛤ ⛤Masterlist ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤  

     ❀                           ❀                              ❀                                       ❀

Fandom: The Last Kingdom x Outlander

Pairing: Claire x King Alfred

Type: Drama

      ❀                           ❀                              ❀                                       ❀

Alfred knew that the end of his days was coming quickly. He could hardly recognize himself, when he caught his reflection. He had always looked sickly and thin, even when he was a child, but now he looked like the walking dead. To make matters worse, he could feel the eyes of his kingdom on him -- like vultures waiting for their prey. Alfred had done so much for his Kingdom, for Wessex; however, he was barely prepared to leave it, no matter how much he trusted his son to take the crown. 

As the daylight began to fade, Alred could feel his strength going with it, as if his soul was already halfway to heaven. If that is where it is to end up, Alfred thought bitterly. He staggered to his bed. At one time, he looked forward to its comfortable furs. Tonight, however, he dreaded climbing into bed, because those same furs now felt stifling on his clammy skin. Alfred began to drift in and out of consciousness, thinking how this would most likely be his last day on Earth, and it was a shame that he couldn’t cherish its earthly comforts, while they lasted. 

                                                       * * * *

Claire woke in a cold sweat; the wind seemed to be whispering something in her ear, but before she could decipher the words, her legs began to carry her. Claire was running. She didn’t even stop to change into something more decent than a nightgown. Suddenly, she was out in the cold air, in nothing but her white silk slip. Claire couldn’t comprehend why she was running; her body seemed to know something that her mind did not. 

The wind was carrying her through the forest, where the faint whispering, all around her, began to grow louder. The air became electric with unexplainable energy. After sometime, Claire came upon a circle of rocks, which looked similar to Craigh na Dun. She trusted the whispering wind to guide her, as she touched the cold stone. Claire held her breath and closed her eyes. She felt something calling to her, something strong. She focused on that energy, that calling. She trusted the wind, the rocks, and the energy to bring her through time once more, even though she didn’t know where, or rather when, she was going. 

When Claire opened her eyes, she knew she was somewhere she had never been before. The pungent smell of sweat, manure, and blood assaulted her nose, and when her eyes were finally able to adjust to the blinding sunlight, Claire could see that she was further in the past than she had ever been. The scenery told her that she might even be in the Medieval times. Claire focused on the whispering wind, so it would tell her what to do. She could feel it calling her to the village in the distance. It felt important. It felt like destiny.  

                                                      * * * *

Alfred woke with a start; there was a commotion outside his bedroom door. Before he could try to call out weakly for his wife or Father Beocca, a spectral image of a woman burst through the door with a powerful energy about her. He would have been sure that it was a hallucination, had it not been for the swarm of guards who were chasing her with their swords drawn. 

“Lord, this wench, she -” a guard started.

“I can assure you that I am no wench, sir. I’m here… Well… I’m here for…”

                                                      * * * *

Claire wasn’t sure how she made it to these bedchambers or how she managed to evade the bloodstained swords of the barbarians surrounding her; and she still didn’t know what she was doing here. However, when she laid eyes upon the skeleton of a man, laying in bed, she knew that she was sent here to help him. 

You cannot save the world, Claire thought to herself, but you might save the man in front of you, if you work fast enough. She sprung into action then, or she would have, if the guards hadn’t grabbed her.

“Oh, let me go, you brutes! I need to save this man, who I suppose is your king!” She yelled, and tried to break from their tight grasp.

                                                      * * * *

“Lord, what do you wish we do with this woman?” One of the guards asked, “She appears to be a wise woman… Although, I’ve not seen her as a healer in Wessex before.”

Alfred looked wearily at the woman in front of him, in her wisp of a white nightgown, unsure of whether he could trust her. Then he thought of something that had been on his mind a lot recently: the decision he had made to give his sickly son to Iseult, when he was hiding in the Marshlands. He remembered something that Untred had told him, advice, which now seemed more like a premonition. 

You have this one chance to save your son, and you will have one chance to save your kingdom. The two are bound together.

Now, it appeared as though Alfred had one chance to save himself. He had sinned a lot in his life, and he had been unable to abstain from the temptations of youth, but now, standing in front of him, was an angel with a mission. This must be a sign from God that King Alfred was to reign for a little longer. He was not to be the king that went quietly into the night. 

“Release her. Let her do what she must,” he said hoarsely, and closed his eyes. 

                                                      * * * *

Claire wrestled from the grasp of the men holding her and ran to the man’s bedside.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” Claire gasped, “He’s nearly dead!” She ripped the blankets off of him, and could see that his clothes were drenched in sweat, and he was clutching his stomach tightly. Claire gently removed his hands from his stomach and pressed lightly on it, which Alfred replied to with a pained groan. As she suspected, there was swelling in the abdomen. After asking Alfred his medical history, in a hushed voice, she had an idea of what ailed him. Claire had read about a disease that a medical team had discovered before the War; she remembered that it was called Crohn’s Disease, and it was connected to irritation with the digestive system. She guessed that his intestines had a bacterial infection, common with Crohn’s Disease, and it was what was causing him pain and fever. If it continued to go untreated, it would kill him.

Claire needed to think faster, if she was to save this man. She needed antibiotics. She racked her brain with medicinal herbs, thanking her lucky stars that she took the time to study natural remedies in her spare time. 

“I need Garlic, honey, clove…” Claire began to shout. “I also need water, alcohol, and fresh cloth!” She turned around to see that the guards were stunned by her orders, and they had not made a move to fulfill them.  

“NOW!” She yelled, “Do you want him to die?” The men shifted uncomfortably and looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Luckily, while Claire had been inspecting the patient, a man who appeared to be a priest had pushed past the guards and was carefully watching her work. When he saw that the guards were not following her orders, he spoke up.

“Listen to her! Get her what she needs! Whether she be a wise woman, witch, or angel, we must respect the King’s wishes.” The priest said firmly. The guards responded to his commands and scattered to find what Claire had asked for. Then he ran to the bedside and knelt by the king. 

“King Alfred, I am here. I will pray for you.” The priest said, as he held Alfred’s hand. 

“Father Beocca, I am grateful for your presence. I fear that I have not repented enough, and I fear for my fate,” King Alfred confessed in a whisper. 

“My Lord, do not worry about God’s will, now. Your strength is needed elsewhere.” Father Beocca looked up at Claire, and an understanding passed between them. “I will stay with you, lady, and help in anyway that I can.” Father Beocca said to her, then he bent his head forward and clasped his hands in prayer. 

As Father Beocca was prayed with King Alfred, the men came back with the things that Claire had asked for. First, she dunked the questionably clean cloth into the bucket of water and laid it onto Alfred’s forehead and chest; immediately, she could feel the heat radiating through it.

“Father, keep him cool and make sure that he drinks,” Claire said, passing Beocca the water bucket and cloth, to which he nodded and got to work. With Claire’s hands free of the water and cloth, she grabbed the mortar and pestle that had been brought to her with the herbs that she had asked for.

“Drink this, Alfred. Help him, Father, please,” Claire said, passing Beocca the cup of make-shift antibiotics. 

                                                      * * * *

“May heaven have no more broth.” King Alfred groaned, but lifted his head and allowed Father Beocca to help him drink. 

It felt like hours of Claire working with him -- giving him sips of the ghoulish drink that she had made for him and massaging his abdomen tenderly, while Father Beocca worked tirelessly to break his fever. But soon, Alfred felt well enough to sit up in bed and sip from Claire’s cup without assistance. Alfred had never wanted to go down in history as a weak king, and he now understood the God was giving him one last chance to make his legacy. He could continue to spread God’s word and to prepare his son to take the throne. 

Alfred could feel a change inside him. He wanted to live. 

                                                      * * * *

Claire could see Alfred’s color returning, and she sighed with relief. She requested that a stew be made, because she knew the Lord would need sustenance to keep his strength. Just as Alfred’s fever broke, the soup came, and Alfred took it eagerly, which made Claire laugh. 

“I am glad to be rid of that disgusting brew you’ve been having me drink,” Alfred said lightheartedly.

“Excuse me, but that brew saved your life, King Alfred,” Claire shot back.

There was a long silence between the two. Claire looked into the eyes of a man who appeared to have come back from the dead, and all she could do was smile. Alfred held her gaze and cleared his throat. 

“My lady, may I ask you something?” He said quietly. Claire nodded. “Who sent you? Are you an angel from the Lord?”

Claire laughed lightly and held his hand. “Truthfully, I don’t know exactly what I am, or how I came to be here. But I knew when I saw you that it was you I was sent here for.”

“I am in your debt, lady, may I have your name?” Alfred asked.

“It’s Claire.”

“A strange name… For a strange presence, I suppose,” King Alfred said with a soft laugh. “How can I repay you? I have silver… and riches. Whatever you wish.”

“Please, my Lord, I ask for only one thing. I would like a horse, and a guide, to bring me back to the tall rocks on the hill. That’s all.” 

“So it shall be done. I feel well enough, may I walk you to the stables?” Alfred asked, trying to get out of bed.

“No, you need your rest, and I trust Father Beocca will tend to you well. I must say goodbye now.” Claire said. She stood and lightly kissed Alfred’s forehead -- thankful that she could feel no trace of fever on him. Claire turned to leave, her long white nightgown trailing behind her.

Just like that, King Alfred’s angel was gone into the night.