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dyns33 · 3 years ago

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The Devil’s Lawyer - Bonus Part 10

Matt Murderdock x Nice Lawyer Reader : Sick edition ! (Bonus part 9 here)

At first, Y/N thought Matt was just dreaming. He didn't dream often, his sleep was less and less restless, especially when they were together.

Slowly, she turned to look at him. No grimace, no pout. But sweating. Passing her hand over his forehead, she noticed that he was warm.

This woke him up. Even though they were of no use to him, his eyes flew open, his big empty eyes staring into her soul, and for a few seconds Matt said nothing, before sniffling. Rather, he was trying to sniff. His nose was making a funny noise.

"...Darling ?" he asked with a voice that was also weird.

Then he coughed.

And Y/N understood that Matt was sick.

It was hardly surprising. For a week he had been helping Spiderwoman hunt down a group of traffickers, they had often been outside, at night, in the cold, when it was raining and Matt hadn't thought it would be a good idea to put anything other than his silly red suit.

After ordering him not to move, Y/N quickly got up to go make some tea, while texting Gwen to see if she was okay. The answer was yes. Her costume, and her spider-like rapid regeneration abilities, must have helped. It was reassuring.

Then, looking for all the tissues in the apartment and an extra blanket, she called Foggy.

"I don't think I will be able to come today. In fact, I don't know when I could come."

"A problem ? You're alright ? Was there a fight ? An accident ?"

"Matt is sick."

"... It was nice to meet you, and I wish you good luck."

"That means you've been through this before. In Law school ? How did it go ?"

"I refuse to talk about it. Just text me to let me know you're still alive. Otherwise I promise to prepare a nice funeral for you."

Nelson always had to be dramatic when it came to Matt.

But this time, maybe he wasn't entirely wrong. Oh, Matt wouldn't hurt her. But Matt would drive her crazy, behaving like a disobedient and demanding child.

It was already starting, he did not stay in bed. Y/N should have expected that. She found him on the floor, in the hallway, and when she wanted to help him up, he growled, saying he could do it on his own.

Then he spat out the tea. Soup too. The water. Everything.

Because of the illness, all his senses were disturbed. He no longer smelt anything. His ears were slightly clogged, and even though he wasn't really deaf, he didn't like it. The tastes weren't right, so he refused to eat and drink.

Matt was like a normal blind person. Of course he hated that and it made him unbearable.

"You need to eat a bit."

"No."

"Matt !"

"No."

"If you don't eat, you won't heal. Do you want to stay like this ?"

"...It's not the right taste."

If the situation hadn't been so tragic for him, Y/N would have laughed at his sulky pout as he agreed to finish his soup, sticking his tongue out in disgust after each spoonful.

On the second day, the fever intensified, making him delirious.

Matt then locked himself in the bathroom, refusing to open it. He was saying crazy things, shouting and crying. Y/N had never seen him like this.

"Open to me, please."

"I will contaminate you !"

"No, it's fine. You can't stay in the bathroom forever."

"It'll be better this way ! If you get sick, I won't be able to take care of you and you'll die ! I'm incapable ! I'm weak and useless ! I... I'm sorry ! I'll do better ! 私はもっとうまくやることを誓います！もう一度チャンスをください！お願いします!"

Y/N didn't understand everything he said, he was speaking too fast and too loudly, but she guessed it was memories of his training with the Hand, words he had heard. These monsters must not appreciate their weapons getting sick.

That probably explained why Matt hadn't wanted her to contact Otomo-san. But the ninja had said nothing, only promising to take care of Master Murdock's business until he returned.

It took several hours to convince Matt to open the door, and let her help him take a shower.

The second night was difficult, as well as the next, because he refused to sleep. Unable to rely on his senses, and not sure he could fight, Matt considered it too dangerous and he had to stay on his toes.

He raved like this until he was too tired to keep his eyes open, letting himself be lulled by Y/N, listening to her reassuring words, as she stroked his hair and cheek.

"... M... Mom ?" he muttered in a small voice, silent tears falling from his eyes that he couldn't keep open.

"Go to sleep, Matt. It's okay. You can sleep. I'm here."

He slept for almost twenty four hours, his arms around her, preventing her from moving. It was not a big deal. Y/N was happy that he was finally resting.

When he woke up, Matt was still not cured.

He suddenly decided that the sheets and clothes scratched him. They couldn't stand them anymore. He was too hot, and at the same time too cold.

Y/N didn't really know what to think seeing him walking around naked in the apartment. It was a vision of heaven, and at the same time it wasn't really going to help him get better.

With great patience and persuasion, she managed to convince him to stay with her on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, watching television.

"Matt, stop moving."

"I don't like this thing."

"You bought this blanket. You love it."

"... No."

He managed to fall asleep, again, still struggling with the blanket in his sleep, which he ended up throwing on the floor while lying on Y/N, his head against her chest, trying to hear her heart.

Unfortunately for her, that was when Gwen decided to drop by to see if they were okay.

"My eyes ! No ! I'm blind !"

"Gwen ! Hush ! He's sleeping. And he's blind, it's not nice to say that."

"I would have preferred to be blind. My God !"

"Hush !"

"I came with hot chocolate. May made it. And I spoke with the Matts from the other universes. They know they can be... They wish you well."

"Thank you Gwen."

The discussion didn't wake Matt, indicating that he still needed time to fully recover.

He still had his little grimace when he woke up, trying to sniff the apartment, his instinct telling him that someone had come, but that he hadn't heard anything, that he couldn't know who, and that something bad could have happened while he was sleeping.

"It was just Gwen. And Foggy called, to make sure we were alive."

"Hmm."

"You seem to have a little less fever, that's a good sign."

"I don't like not being able to smell you."

"Gwen stayed outside, hanging from the window. I promise I only smell like you."

"... And Cat ?"

"Yes, and Cat." she sneered, looking at the cat, who was standing on the table, a good distance from them.

The animal must have been a bit germophobic. He had been avoiding Matt like the plague for several days. Maybe because he knew that an injured or sick animal was dangerous. But he still remained quite close, following them into the apartment, as if watching over his Master.

Satisfied with her answer, Matt fell asleep again, only groaning when she got up to prepare the meal, but still too weak to move.

Spiderwoman's hot chocolate made him happy.

Like it was magic, Matt thought it tasted pretty normal, and he started to feel really better after that. It was always nice to receive a gift from their daughter.

"For the last time, I'm not your daughter ! And it was May's chocolate ! She insisted, because she's nice !"

"Of course Gwennie, of course. Thanks for taking care of your old man."

"I... You... Y/N ! He's doing it again !"

"He's not completely cured yet, it must be the fever."

"He's healed ! His smile shows he's healed ! He's doing it on purpose because he wants us to keep taking care of him ! Bad Murderdock ! Bad !"

That might have been true, but Y/N knew that Matt hated being weak, and looking weak in front of others.

He also didn't have to pretend to be sick to get her to take care of him, he just had to ask.

Or rather, with the little pout on his little face, he would walk around in circles in the apartment, around her, before coming to stick himself against Y/N without saying a word, or while grumbling slightly, until she stopped what she was doing to give him her full attention, making him purr as she scratched behind his ear.

But hey, seeing Matt pretending to cough, Y/N thought that might not be totally wrong either.

"You survived." Foggy sighed with relief when she got back to work. "That's wonderful ! I don't know how you did it. But I imagine he didn't throw hot soup in your face, and he didn't steal your sheets to make a sort of cocoon on his bed, so it must have been easier for you."

"One day you really have to tell me about those three years."

"Never. He would kill me."

"I could ask him, I'm sure he would answer."

"Never. I would kill myself. Out of shame. You really want me to die ?"

"It's a bit tempting, but you took care of all my clients, so I'll be magnanimous."

After that, Matt didn't get sick very often, but Y/N was always ready if that should happen.

On the other hand, the day she coughed lightly, he panicked, obviously thinking he was unable to take care of her if she was sick, calling Otomo, Gwen, Foggy and Claire to come and help him, while hissing as soon as they tried to get too close to her.

Fortunately for her, even when she was half asleep, Y/N still had enough authority over him to ask him to stop his nonsense.

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #Matt Murderdock #dark Matt #earth 65 #lawyer reader

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kgirl1fromff · 3 years ago

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BF5 + Illness Headcanons

When someone on the team is sick...

Vert puts them on bed rest, that's an order. Absolutely no missions or even looking at data logs until they feel 100% better

Agura makes sure they have everything they need, blankets food heating pad etc., and sets an alarm to check in on them every hour. she also works with Sage to administer their medication schedules (looking at you, Spinner, who once tried to drink an entire bottle of cough syrup after he sneezed one time)

Zoom hangs out with them so they're not lonely, has 100% faith in his immune system, doesn't believe he can get infected (spoiler alert: he can). Vert shuts this down right away because "we're trying to save the world here Zoom and I can't have two people on the bench" you love your cute lil sports metaphors Vert

Stanford will make them a playlist of their favorite tunes to cheer them up

Sherman will make his world-famous chicken noodle soup; he only makes it when his teammates are sick and everyone who's healthy fights for the leftovers

Spinner tries not to be too freaked out or let his germaphobia get the best of him. He offers to play video games with them as long as they're separated by a plastic sheet in the medbay, or he'll try out some new jokes, or at the very least hack into whatever he needs to so that they can watch their favorite movies for free

Tezz hasn't gotten sick in nine years except for the times he had to eat something weird to survive on the Sentient moon, so at first he's a little wary of his sick teammate... but then he eventually decides he needs to build his immune system back up so he'll just stand over them until he gets coughed on. Vert shuts this behavior down until AJ joins the team and it's OK for them to have two people who can't fight in Battle Zones

AJ is a lot like Zoom, he has no concept of germ theory or immunity and so he'll happily watch movies or just chill with the sick person. Again, Vert shuts this down; he can only lose so many people at a time

Sage doesn't understand a lot about human illness but she's excited to learn! Sherman is the first one to get sick canonically and at first she's way too eager and asks him a million questions that he's too tired to answer. once she starts to understand illness more she pulls back, but she does as much of her work as she can in the medbay to keep her poor sick humans company

When they're sick...

Vert: Vert hates being sick and he doesn't want the team to worry about him but Agura can smell it a mile away. she takes over and makes him rest and takes care of him and hey, maybe this actually isn't so bad

Agura: Agura is the worst about being sick. Think Rosa Diaz of Brooklyn 99. She completely denies it, doesn't want to look weak, doesn't need anyone's help. Vert makes her count Battle Keys just so she'll finally sit down and finds her curled up on the floor in the vault taking a nap. then he carries her to bed and gives her little forehead kisses

Zoom: second-worst only to Agura. Vert also has to give him some made-up BS job so that he can get some rest. they consider handcuffing him to the medbay so that he'll stay there but realize that might be traumatic after the incidents of "Man Down" so they just ask him really nicely to please stay put and get better, ok? we'll get you your favorite milkshake and AJ will come hang out with you if you do!

Stanford: the neediest person alive when he's sick. Stanford gets bored and lonely, fast. He's always asking for a cough drop or another glass of water. finally Agura, ever a bestie, just facetimes him all day long and puts her phone in an armband she uses for running so he can feel like he's hanging out with everybody in the Hub

Sherman: Sherman is the Hub's best patient. he just calmly vibes in the medbay until he feels better (meanwhile Spinner is freaking out because his brother is going to DIE). everyone tries to make him chicken noodle soup that's as good as his secret recipe and everyone fails but he's touched by the gesture

Spinner: as a germaphobe, Spinner is completely freaked out when he's sick. He makes Sage test him for every illness known to humankind, including things like the black plague or malaria that would be impossible for him to get in handler corners. he forces his teammates to dress in full hazmat suits whenever they bring him something and panics the whole time, which makes his illness worse. Vert, Agura and Sage secretly agree to add Xanax to his medication and that actually works wonders

Tezz: Tezz is too proud to admit it but after nine years of being on his own when he got sick, he secretly loves having people take care of him. He mostly stays quiet in the medbay and surprises his teammates by thanking them for taking care of him

AJ: AJ hates being sick and is way too quick to think he's getting better, which often prolongs his illnesses. he'll be in the medbay for a few hours or a single day and then be like "Vert, I'm healed, let's go snowboarding" or something like that. go back to bed AJ, you're sick!!

#hot wheels battle force 5 #battle force 5 #bf5

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flourgirl · 4 years ago

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When The Party’s Over

Part II to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn x Reader

Summary: The closer that Peter gets to Gwen, the more he realizes how irreplaceable you are to him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A few curse words here and there.

A/N: There’s going to be a third and final part to this story, so if you’d like to be tagged in it, please shoot me an ask or a reply and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list. Hope you guys enjoy this new part and happy reading :-)

“Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standing out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go” -Where Do Broken Hearts Go, One Direction

It had been 17 days since you had last seen Peter and all you could do was sit in your favorite coffee shop and stare at all the muffins in the case. Peter loved muffins. His favorite flavor was banana nut, and usually the two of you would jam out to all of your favorite songs while you waited for them to come out of the oven.

“Y/N,” Betty said, snapping you out of your daze, “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at the pastries for, like, five minutes.”

MJ put down whatever book she had decided to read this week. “Yeah, if you want one, go for it. You deserve it. Here, I’ll pay.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded up $10 bill, dropping it onto the table in front of you, and returned to her book.

“You could get a slice of cheesecake,” Betty suggested. “I know how much you like the raspberry one from here.”

But all you could think about was how you wished Peter loved you the way that he loved those stupid banana nut muffins.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, crossing your arms and closing your eyes to take in the soft jazz music that was playing alongside the chatter of the café. “But I’m keeping the ten bucks.”

“Maybe it would help take your mind off of things if you met someone new,” MJ suggested without even looking up at you. It was honestly amazing how she could carry on a conversation while still being so engrossed in her book.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Betty agreed, “You’re so smart, and pretty, and you made all of the baked goods currently taking up lots of precious space in our kitchen.”

“You’re a stress baker,” MJ added. She was right. Over the past two and a half weeks since that night, you had baked three cakes, four pies, and seven different kinds of bread. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night you tried out the new focaccia recipe you had been eyeing.

“I don’t know, guys,” you said, slinking further down into your chair. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured you. “Take all the time you need. But we’re here for you, Y/N.”

And that’s how the rest of that day went. Lots of suggestions on ways to stop thinking about Peter and you shooting them down. No matter how Betty and MJ tried to make you feel better, your mind was stuck on the nine voicemails and thirty-two texts he had sent you saying how he was sorry for whatever he did and how he just wanted things to be normal again.

Except you didn’t want normal. You wanted him. You wanted his bad puns and the way his sweaters smelled when he let you borrow one. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know that he had broken your heart.

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It wasn’t like Peter didn’t like Gwen. She was outgoing and confident, and he liked how it felt like she was always the center of attention. People wanted to talk to her, or sit next to her, or even have her know that they existed.

But she wasn’t anything like you, and the more time that Peter spent with her, the more apparent that became. She didn’t rant about reality TV or get so overwhelmed during public speaking assignments that the only way she could calm down was with a hug from him. In many ways, she was perfect. Except for the fact that she wasn’t you.

“We’re still on for Flash’s party on Saturday, right?” Gwen asked as she walked with Peter out of the lecture hall where they learned about vascular mechanics.

Honestly, Peter hadn’t even remembered that she had asked him to go to that until she brought it up just now. He was too stressed out wondering whether or not you’d ever speak to him again.

But what did he do to make you upset? He had promised that if you wanted to leave the party, you could tell him and the two of you would go. Except you never said anything. You just got up and left, without even saying goodbye. You hated him and it killed him to not know why.

Despite this, he wanted to be the good guy and not disappoint any more people, and so he took Gwen’s hand in his and said, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there.”

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If someone had told you that you’d run into Harry Osborn in the middle of Arthur Avenue, you’d say they were crazy. And if that same someone said that you’d ask him on a date, they’d be even crazier. But somehow, some way, that’s exactly what happened.

You were on the way to interview a third-generation restaurant owner for your Italian class. You had never been very good at foreign languages, but you would use any excuse to take a trip to Little Italy. The nervous knots in your stomach from the possibility that they would only speak in a dialect that you couldn’t understand was worth it, because this little nook of the city was home to the best arancini in all of America.

To be honest, it seemed unbelievable that he’d be there, at that exact time, in that exact place to where you’d run right into him. You had been too busy reviewing the notes you had taken during the interview to see that you were on a direct path towards face planting into his torso.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, staring down at your notes scattered on the sidewalk at your feet. The guy you had just ran into kneeled down to gather them into a neat stack, handing them back to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, which caught you off guard. Who the hell was this? It wasn’t until you stared at his face for a few seconds that you recognized him. That guy that Gwen was with at the party. He looked a lot different in his button down and khakis compared to the sweatshirt and baseball cap he had on when you had first met him.

“Uh, hi. You’re Gwen’s friend, right? Henry.” You knew his name. You just didn’t plan on letting that you knew it.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry. Sorry about that, by the way. So, anyway, what brings you all the way down to Little Italy? It’s pretty far from campus,” he told you, as if you didn’t know that. I mean, you had walked all the way here, hadn’t you?

You shrugged, looking away from him. “I guess I could ask you the same thing.”

It was the first time in a while that someone wasn’t fawning over him just because he was rich. Honestly, it was really refreshing. “I asked first,” he noted, mimicking your crossed arms with a smirk.

Who does this guy think he is?

“Listen,” you sighed. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my apartment and finish up writing this essay that’s due at midnight.”

“So you’re taking Italian, I presume?” he asked, it suddenly becoming quite clear as to what you were doing on the other side of the city.

“Yeah. And let me guess, you were eating brunch at some fancy, expensive restaurant that your dad owns, drinking some $100 bottle of wine while some nerd you pay does your homework, huh?”

“No,” he laughed. “I was helping put together Thanksgiving dinner baskets for underprivileged families down at the soup kitchen.”

It was only then that you noticed how annoyingly handsome he was. Essentially, he was the male version of Gwen. Same blonde hair and preppy style that just screamed “I have a trust fund.”

“Of course. What, did you need a good photo op ever since the Daily Bugle ran that issue where they called you a spoiled playboy who loves to party?”

You had no intentions of entertaining him, especially since he was a friend of Gwen’s. The girl that had kissed Peter right in front of you, and pretended like she couldn’t remember your name. The girl that Peter was probably with right now.

“I’m not going to pretend like that wasn’t part of it, but believe it or not, I’m not actually as big of a selfish asshole as the papers make me out to be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I can tell by the cashmere sweater vest and leather loafers that you’re wearing that you’re so down to earth.”

There was an awkward silence, and Harry decided to change the subject before he pissed you off even more. But what he chose to mention next was the one thing on the planet that you didn’t want to talk about.

“So, uh, I guess your friend Peter is with Gwen now,” he started, which had somehow managed to make you dislike him even more than you already did. Sure, there was no way for him to know how you felt about the whole situation, but it still pained you to think about how you had become an afterthought to who you thought was the guy who would always have your back.

You blinked back at him, frowning. “Yeah, I guess so,” you muttered. And then there was another awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. It’s obvious I’m taking up some very precious time in your day,” he said, offering a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around campus.”

It suddenly dawned on you that you might have been just a little too hard on him. He seemed nice enough, even if you weren’t a big fan of the company he kept. Before you could even really think about it, you called out, “Wait!” and walked over to meet him when he had turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, nervously toying with the hem of your sweater. “I’m just in a really bad mood.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, although he wasn’t quite as confident as when the two of you had started your conversation. “We all have bad days. I hope yours gets better.”

“It could, if you’d let me buy you a coffee,” you said, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. Sure, it was nice to think that Peter would probably be upset once he heard that you had asked someone out and he knew nothing about it, but a small part of you was asking just because Harry Osborn seemed like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.

“Sure,” he answered back, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually perfect messy-but-not-too-messy state. “Have you ever been to Hungry Ghost in Brooklyn?”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s actually my favorite café! They have this really awesome grand piano in the middle of the room, and every Friday they have an open mic where anybody can sign up to play it.”

Your enthusiasm honestly surprised you. It was nice to have something to talk about that didn’t somehow involve Peter.

“Actually, I’m signed up to play tomorrow night,” Harry told you, “Do you like jazz?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. You loved jazz. “Definitely,” you confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, cool. Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you buy me a coffee if you come watch me play tomorrow night.”

“Deal,” you agreed, before turning back towards your apartment, all giddy with excitement to tell MJ and Betty about what had just happened.

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“You probably didn’t know this, but Y/N’s been hanging out with Harry Osborn,” Ned said, walking into the common room wearing his “special” Hawaiian shirt, which Peter knew meant he was going someplace fancy. “They’re kind of dating.”

Peter looked up immediately from his linear algebra homework. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about what Ned had just revealed, but he didn’t know why. He was with Gwen, and if you wanted to date Harry Osborn, then you could. But still, he found himself being just a little bit jealous that some other guy was filling in for him.

“Oh,” Peter said, looking back down at his homework. He couldn’t focus anymore, so he just shut the notebook and threw it from where he was sitting on the top bunk onto his desk. “How long has that been going on?”

“Two days now, but they’ve been spending every minute together since. Betty said that they bumped into each other on the street and she just asked him on a date out of nowhere,” he replied, tying his shoes to go meet his girlfriend for date night. “I just thought I’d let you know, in case you saw them when you were out and got mad at me for keeping it from you.”

“Thanks, dude,” Peter sighed, lying on his back, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. Anytime, man. Now I gotta go. M’lady awaits,” he said. Peter didn’t even have to look to know that his roommate had just tipped his imaginary fedora.

Harry Osborn wasn’t even your type, Peter thought. You didn’t like guys as “pretty” as him, and you had always been more into brown eyes, not blue. So what was the appeal? His trust fund? Peter knew that you weren’t that shallow. It was just that, well, he couldn’t imagine you falling for someone like that.

You’re with Gwen, Peter kept reminding himself. So many guys would kill to be in your place. It wasn’t until he checked the time that he realized that he was actually about 20 minutes late to meeting her for the party. The stupid party at Flash Thompson’s tacky apartment that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

It was an understatement to say that Gwen was pissed when Peter knocked on her front door over half an hour late to the time they had agreed upon.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,” she complained, smoothing out her sparkly silver dress that caught the light just right when she moved.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, grabbing her hand as they walked down the street. “Uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

When they finally arrived at the party, the bowls of potato chips and mini pretzels were nearly empty. The floor was sticky, and Old Town Road boomed from the speakers in the living room.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter told Gwen, leaving her to greet all of her friends that had been waiting for her to show up.

As Peter wandered towards the keg, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Harry, and all the things that he didn’t know about your newfound relationship with some guy you had just met. He still didn’t know why he was so upset about it. He should be happy you had found someone you liked. In high school, all you ever talked about was finding the perfect guy, and if that was Harry Osborn, who was Peter to make a fuss about it?

But that didn’t stop Peter from filling up his plastic cup more times than he should’ve that night. It wasn’t until he was being dragged back to his dorm room by Gwen after puking on Flash’s couch that he realized what was wrong. He wanted to be that guy. The one who got to hold your hand and cuddle with you during scary movies. The one that got to love you and be loved by you.

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Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn

P.S.: Sorry to all the people I forgot to tag on this one! I didn’t know that when you answer asks privately, they go away from your inbox. Please shoot me another ask or reply to this post so I don’t miss you again!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x gwen stacy #harry osborn x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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manggojooz · 4 years ago

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Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 10)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~2,590

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: some references to stalkerish behaviour

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world @forvever-ddaeng @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @apurpledheart @ggukkieeee @witchxlove

You frowned at the smiley boy who awkwardly stood outside your door.

“Uhh, you gonna let me in... or we gonna stand here all night?” Jungkook asked.

“Let... let you in? But why-” you were still only half-awake.

Jungkook shoved his way past you in one swift move and you stumbled against the door slightly. Catching your balance again you quickly followed him into the apartment.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you trailed him into your own kitchen.

“Ow, it’s so heavy, I can’t stand carrying it another minute sorry,” he lamented as he dumps the bags of groceries on the tabletop with a thump. “What’s this?” he asked as he peeked inside the bag that contained the chicken soup.

“Soup, I think...” you answered weakly.

“You ordered it?” he asked.

“No... I don’t know, some guy just came to deliver it...”

“Mmm okay,” he hummed mindlessly but melodically as he took the package away from the dining table and chucked it to the side of the counter. “Let’s see...” he murmured to himself as he took his handphone from his back pocket.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.

He does not make eye contact with you but stares intently at his phone screen, “I heard you injured your shoulder from last night... I didn’t know and I thought...” he stops suddenly. He side-eyes you for a moment and notices that you were surveying him with that same frown. “Hmm,” he clears his throat rather forcefully, “I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I was overreacting because-”

“Because you thought Yeonjoo was hurt...” you completed his sentence.

“I didn’t know you hurt yourself while protecting her, to be fair it wasn’t really visible you know...” he voice faded as he sounded a little relieved now that the topic has been broached.

“It’s our job to get injured so that the people we protect won’t be. You don’t have to be sorry for that,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“I know I know... but I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion and accuse you or shout at you” he still avoided looking at you as he muttered this.

Sometimes apologies are like this – it does not necessarily make you feel better more so than it makes the other person feel better.

“So... why are you here at this time?” you questioned a third time.

“Ah... Yuri is at another schedule with some of the hyungs and since I am free tonight so I thought I should come and make sure you ate dinner... at least...” he was still half-mumbling.

“You are here to make me dinner?” you asked incredulously.

“Eo...” he answered affirmatively.

---

Jungkook buying sacks of groceries just to make you dinner was the most unimaginable thing even just a day ago, but it was happening right this moment. You were too tired to quarrel with the idea and he had insisted that you get back to resting until everything was ready.

You could hear a lot of tinkering, “ahh”, “ooh” and the occasional swearing from the kitchen even in your half-awake state. You had no idea how long this lasted but at some point you were awakened by a knock on your room door.

“Dinner’s ready... are you awake?” his voice was soft but his tone was the usual.

You pulled yourself out of bed and headed out to the dining table, marginally more alert than you were before.

The spread that lay before your eyes was a wonder – a bowl of plain rice, some kind of stew that looked like it had a mix of unrecognisable ingredients in it and some kimchi.

“Do I start with the soup or...” you wondered cautiously.

“It doesn’t look that appetising but I promise you that it tastes fine and this is beef bone stew with abalone and what’s that thing...” he wasted no time trying to promote his masterpiece.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s some traditional herb... I’m sure it’s good for health” he continued.

He looked at you expectantly as you took a tiny sip of the stew with caution. It tasted... barely edible.

“How is it? How is it?” he asked like a child who was asking for affirmation from his parents.

“It’s nice...” you answered soullessly, “are you not having any yourself?”

“Nope, it’s all for you” he answered very certainly and you weren’t really sure if this was all part of the bigger picture.

Be that as it may, you recalled how Yoongi felt bad for you at the hospital and did not want another one of them thinking that girls are too weak to do this job.

“About last night... I just need to say it again, you don’t have to feel bad that I was injured and I can understand why you were worked up so you didn’t have to do this, but thanks anyway” you said while looking him straight in the eyes, maybe the drowsiness helps with boosting confidence.

He sighed unintentionally. “Like I said earlier, I know I don’t have to feel bad about it but I was wrong to yell at you and I just feel bad because I assume that Yeonjoo was hurt while you were fine and... and... I guess she just looked really shaken and you looked fine so I thought...”

“It’s ok, I get it. It’s just that we usually try our best not to show it even if we are hurt” you explained.

“If you don’t show it how do people know that you are hurt... what's the point of hiding it?” Jungkook mumbles endlessly as he walked back into the kitchen. He picked up the ladle still in the pot of stew, and you were about to continue the conversation but he took a sip of his own masterpiece.

“Bleh... oh my gosh... what’s this? This taste horrible! You should have told me honestly that it tasted bad... wow...” he shouted with his tongue half-hanging out.

“As you know, it’s not my forte to show how I feel” you replied sarcastically.

“Ugh I just wanted to make you something nice... what the heck is this even... you know what, this isn’t counted. I'll buy you something nice, what do you want to eat?” he lamented.

You were never a fan of bland soups and porridges anyway.

“Hmm... steak, buy me a nice a steak” you requested.

“You can eat that now? Or do you mean when you are better?” his eyes were round with curiousness.

“It’s my rule that when the body is not feeling well, the mouth needs to eat even better than usual” you explained quite nonchalantly while taking another bite of the weirdly-seasoned stew. It seems like you were starting to get used to the taste of it.

“Ohhh, alright then. There is this place I know that’s really hard to get a spot at, I will use some connections and get you some really awesome steak. How about tomorrow, since it’s a rare that we don’t have any schedules... I mean if you are feeling better tomorrow...”

You nodded somewhat eagerly as you continued taking another mouthful of the mysterious stew.

“Wow, you still gonna drink that?” his eyes were very round and large, clearly depicting his amazement by your ability to stomach his stew. “I’ll send you the time and address tomorrow.”

---

The next day and an hour before seven.

“Where are you going?” Yuri was shocked to see you all dressed up.

“I... uh... I’m going for dinner” you stammered. You were going to meet Jungkook at the restaurant at 7pm and the restaurant unfortunately has a casual formal dress code requirement.

“You are going for dinner? With who? Did you take your medicine?” Yuri nagged like a mother sometimes.

You thought for a long moment whether to reveal the truth but you decided to avoid it in prevention of any questioning that might ensure, “Wow, you are so naggy sometimes you know. I’m just meeting someone I know and yes ma’am I took my medicine, except that one painkiller that makes me really drowsy, I'll take that at night when I'm back alright?”

Yuri throws a towel at you for calling her naggy and told you to hurry and get out of her sight.

---

Thirty minutes to seven.

Jungkook suddenly gets a call from Kijin; something must be up with Yeonjoo for him to be calling Jungkook out of the blue.

“Hyung, what’s up? It's rare that you are calling me directly” Jungkook answered the call.

“Jungkook-ah... I really didn’t want to bother you but could you come over... she wouldn’t come out or talk to anyone since last night.”

---

Ten minutes to seven

Jungkook stares at his watch, just as he took out his phone to type a message to you Kijin opens the door at Yeonjoo’s apartment and he rushes in.

The door to Yeonjoo’s bedroom was shut tight. On the way here he was on the phone with Kijin the whole time and he explained hwo Yeonjoo had been receiving letters and calls from her longtime stalker.

“Is that... from that bastard?” Jungkook looked warily at a paper box placed in one corner of the living room.

“Ya... I’m handing it over to the police later... it’s pretty gross inside I don’t think you should go near it” Kijin warned.

“Why is he back? I thought he went quiet for a while...” Jungkook asked with a deep unhappiness.

“Not sure, I think he’s been sending Yeonjoo some messages but she won’t speak to me now” Kijin answered with matching concern.

Jungkook headed straight for Yeonjoo’s room. He carefully knocks on the door; there was no answer.

“It’s me... are you inside? Can you open the door?”

He was met with an eerie silence.

“Hyung... should we just go in?” Jungkook whispered to Kijin, his face fraught with worry.

“I think we have little choice now...” Kijing handed over a key to Jungkook.

The door creaked open slowly. Jungkook peered into the room that was pitch black. A narrow ray of light shone into the room from the opened door and he finally sees the silhouette of Yeonjoo crouched on the floor near the foot of the bedframe.

He ran over anxiously, “Are you alright? Why didn’t you answer us?”

Her hands scrunched the blanket that she had pulled over her legs. She was staring soullessly ahead but slowly turned to look at Jungkook.

“He’s back. I'm scared” she uttered.

“I know, Kijin hyung is reporting it to the police now” Jungkook whispers back.

“I’m tired, but I don’t dare to close my eyes” she whimpers.

“I’m here... I'll be here” Jungkook sat down next to her and she couldn’t help but lean against him.

---

Five minutes past seven.

You stood at the sidewalk leading to the elegantly-furnished entrance of the restaurant. Unintentionally you looked around whenever you heard any sound of someone walking by. You had messaged Jungkook to ask if he was reaching but there was no reply.

You did not even know whose name the reservation was under so you felt better waiting for him to outside. Time went by as you counted the number of times a car turned in but it wasn’t his car.

The night grew colder as the time went by. Eventually, you took a look at your watch.

Ten minutes to 8pm – you decided to give Jungkook a call. The call went unanswered and you were not that surprised but now you became slightly worried.

You made another call, this time to Sejoon.

“Eo.. Y/N...” Sejoon picked up the call and sounded out of breath.

“Hi Sejoon, are you ok?” you asked out of concern.

“Yah yah I’m fine, just ran out to grab some thing for Yoongi and Hobi who are having a schedule now... do you need something?” Sejoon asked you back.

“Uh... actually I am wondering if you know where Jungkook is now...” you started slowly, not sure how much to reveal about your plans with Jungkook.

“Jungkook? He’s not with you? I thought he told me he would be having dinner with you today,” answered Sejoon.

So, it is not much of a secret then. “Ah yes, he’s supposed to meet me for dinner but it’s almost past an hour and he’s not here, I tried calling him but couldn’t get him either,” you explained.

“What? Ok, he does tend to be late... but not this late... are you still waiting there?” Sejoon exuded his usual friendliness.

“Yah, I’m kinda still waiting,” you replied.

“What? I'll try reaching him after I put down these things for Yoongi and Hobi? Let me know if he suddenly shows up,” Sejoon instructed helpfully before you hung up.

---

Fifteen minutes past eight

Two police officers sat in Yeonjoo’s living room collecting as much information as they could from Yeonjoo and Kijin while Jungkook watched them from kitchen. It took him a whole ten minutes to coax Yeonjoo into speaking with the police after they arrived.

Now that he had mostly done his part, he was letting go of the tension he had built up over the past hour and suddenly his stomach let out a low growl.

He thought to himself that he could have been having some fancy steak now. “Right... would be nice to have some steak now... oh shit!” he suddenly jolted up and looked all over for his phone.

---

Your phone suddenly pinged – a message came in.

“Hey Y/N, I’m so sorry, there was an emergency, I didn’t check my phone until now... you aren’t still waiting right? I hope you already ordered something... don’t wait for me,” the message read.

The cocktail of feelings left a bittersweet aftertaste. You were still trying to decipher what exactly it was. Was it worry? Was it annoyance? Was it disappointment?

Then your phone rings. It was Sejoon.

“Hello? Y/N? Have you left yet?” Sejoon shouted through the noisy background noises on his end.

“Hey Sejoon, umm, yeah I got a text from Jungkook so I’m leaving now...” you muttered, trying to mask that bittersweet aftertaste

“Oh he texted you? Great, did you already grab dinner? Do you need me to come down and settle the bill for you?” Sejoon enquired on 80% volume.

“Uh no no don’t worry about me, I’m gonna go grab dinner when I get home...” you quickly cut in, “... but do you know what happened to him? He just said there’s an emergency... is he ok?”

“Jungkook? Oh he’s at Yeonjoo’s place apparently. Kijin hyung messaged me just a while ago to give me the heads up,” Sejoon explained as you hear someone calling out his name on the other end, “I gotta go! You can text me if you need anything!”

You hardly ever needed anything from anyone. You hardly believed that you deserved to need anything from anyone. And today was no different.

Did he need to do this for you? No.

Did you need him to keep his promise? No.

Yet you stared down at the pavement clearly tasting bitterness this time. Of all the reasons, why did it have to be Yeonjoo?

One of the staff at the restaurant must have observed you standing outside their door for the longest time.

“Hi Miss, uhh... it’s rather cold out here... are you waiting for someone? Do you want to come in?” he offered kindly.

there was a melancholic pause. “I was waiting for someone...” you replied with a wistful smile, “but not anymore, thank you.”

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

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Prompt: JC discovers that he has the power to prevent the death of someone if he dies for them, like not real Death more like I experience the pain of dying like they should have and the person he saves remembers that they died but everything else is more or less okay. Now tell me how canon goes and how the Jiangs feel :) ps: I love everything u write and JC is my favorite so I want u to make me suffer for ever giving u this idea

“You are never allowed to do this again,” Jiang Cheng’s mother said, her voice harsh in the way that means she was scared, because she hated being scared. “Never again, you hear me?”

“I hear you, a-niang,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still dazed and dizzy from it, whatever it was – he’d just wanted to save the poor cat from the bullies, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from wrestling with a few of them (that was a generous way of putting it, he’d been getting his ass kicked) to suddenly having his head cracked open and bleeding. “Did it live?”

“Yes, of course it lived, and then it ran away because it was a stray,” Madame Yu snapped. “You’re the one that nearly died! You can’t – death-sharing is a rare gift, A-Cheng, but you can’t use it too often, you hear me? Every time you use it, your own life gets shorter. You must never do it again. And you mustn’t tell anyone else about it! No one at all! Swear to me!”

“I swear,” he said. “No one at all.”

There was a time limit by which he could effectively death-share with someone, and that’s why he was desperate to get back to the Lotus Pier after they’d finally gotten loose again. The time limit, and the condition of the body – the more damaged it was, the worse it was, the harder to bring them back and the less good their condition to come back was, and worst of all, the people involved would be woken up right where their corpses were.

If he wanted to save his parents’ lives, they had to get the bodies.

He explained this to Wei Wuxian as they were running.

“You can do what with dead people?!” Wei Wuxian said, stunned, but Jiang Cheng tugged his hand. “Okay. We’ll think of something.”

“I’ll be the distraction while you get the bodies,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “They’re more interested in me than you, since I’m the heir and you’re just annoying – and there’s a better chance that they’ll want to take me prisoner or something.”

“You don’t know that.”

“The signs said that they wanted me and jiejie alive. That’s something.”

“It’s your life you’re risking!”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Jiang Cheng said, but he hadn’t thought about how Wen Chao had Wen Zhuliu at his side.

At least, he thought to himself, by the time Wen Zhuliu melted his golden core, he’d already suffered through the same thing having happened to his father, too.

It didn’t help.

Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu were still weak from the assault at the Lotus Pier, their cultivations severely damaged by the battle and the aftereffects of the death-sharing after being dead for too long for the process to go smoothly, so Wei Wuxian hid them away in a carriage and sent them back to Meishan Yu before returning to the Lotus Pier to rescue Jiang Cheng.

It made sense now, of course, why Jiang Cheng had wanted to be the distraction: he’d screamed a lot, when he death-shared, screaming and thrashing in agony as his body opened up simulacra wounds to mimic the ones suffered by the deceased. There would have been no way to hide him, much less for him to steal the corpses.

Rescuing Jiang Cheng led to Wen Ning, and Wen Ning led to Wen Qing, and Wen Qing –

It was worth it, Wei Wuxian thought to himself, his teeth gritted as he stared up into the unforgiving night sky of Yiling. It was worth it.

After all, Jiang Cheng would do the same for him in a heartbeat. Hadn’t he just seen that?

“That was incredibly stupid,” Madame Yu said irritably. “Incredibly stupid. You can’t keep hiding people who should be dead in Meishan, you know that, right?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Jiang Cheng said, throwing up his hands. “Let shijie be widowed? Leave A-Ling to grow up without his father?”

Wei Wuxian had let Wen Ning run rampage on everyone else there, grabbed Jin Zixuan’s corpse and fled at once; Jiang Cheng, upon hearing the news, had rushed to Meishan as well and now they had a living body where they had previously had a corpse except they couldn’t tell anyone about it.

“Your ability is the sort of thing that starts wars, Jiang Cheng,” Jin Zixuan said, rubbing his face. “If anyone found out you brought me back…maybe you should have let A-Li be widowed.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng said. “You just have to – I don’t know – hide out for a while. That’s what we did with A-die and A-niang. Nobody knows they’re still alive…”

“That’s only because Uncle Jiang doesn’t have a golden core anymore, and Madame Yu didn’t want to come back,” Wei Wuxian pointed out. “Couldn’t we come up with some sort of story or something…?”

“There were a lot of witnesses to what happened, and Wen Ning didn’t kill all of them. He was pretty dead.”

“Damnit. I need to get back to Yiling, then; there’ll be reprisals about this.” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Whatever you do, don’t use your death sharing on me, okay?”

“Get lost,” Jiang Cheng said. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

Wei Wuxian left.

“He’s going to do something stupid, isn’t he?” he asked his mother.

“Shut up and drink your damn medicine,” Madame Yu said. “You still have a fist-sized hole in your chest.”

Her fingers were gentle in his hair.

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes to the smell of soup. “Jiejie?” he asked, voice raspy.

“I knew it would work!” Wei Wuxian crowed. “I told you he’d wake up if you made him soup!”

“Yes, yes, A-Xian, you’re a genius,” Jiang Yanli said. “A-Cheng, how are you feeling?”

He considered it.

“Like I’ve been stabbed several times, and then ripped apart by a horrific backlash of power within the same day,” he said honestly.

“You’ve been unconscious for a long while,” she said, worrying her lip. “We didn’t know if you’d wake up.”

“I told you not to do it!” Wei Wuxian said, stabbing at him with his finger. “I told you -!”

Jiang Cheng glared at him. “You don’t have a golden core.”

“What?” Jiang Yanli said, even as Wei Wuxian froze.

“I can feel what happens to a golden core when someone’s dying,” Jiang Cheng said. “You don’t have one. At all…you gave it to me, didn’t you? All that bullshit about Baoshan Sanren, that was all lies, wasn’t it? And Wen Qing did the transfer?”

“Oh, A-Xian..!”

“You’d have done it for me,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “You – you did do it for me. Just now. You screamed so much…it was worth it.”

“You still should have told us,” Jiang Cheng said. “Now you’re going to have to hide away for the rest of your life! Just like a-die and a-niang!”

“A-Xuan and I are quite happy living as Jiang sect retainers, if you can get partial custody of A-Ling,” Jiang Yanli put in. “And a-die and a-niang are really enjoying their retirement in Meishan Yu, actually.”

“Everyone would figure it out if someone who looked even a little bit like Wei Wuxian showed up in the Lotus Pier, though.”

“Why don’t you have him go to Gusu?” Jin Zixuan asked from the door. “Hanguang-jun’s only been in love with him forever; he’ll agree.”

They all turned to stare at him.

“What?” he asked, clearly puzzled. “I know it’s one of those things we never talk about, but surely it’s the right time to –”

“He’s in what with me?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“…you didn’t know?”

“No!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed. “Nobody would think that!”

“But it’s so obvious…?”

“Well,” Jiang Yanli said practically. “It would solve the problem, wouldn’t it? No one would expect A-Xian to resurrect himself in the Cloud Recesses. We could give you a nice new name…how do you feel about ‘Mo’?”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #yu ziyuan #madame yu #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #jin zixuan #my fic #my fics #what if nobody died #or well #they die #but temporarily #Anonymous

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whumpmatsus · 3 years ago

Note

aaaa are you still taking the sickfic requests?? maybe "don't speak" with choro as the sickie pls?

SickFic Prompts / ACCEPTING!

Don’t Speak - (character) has a horribly sore throat and is reduced to barely talking while they load up on hot drinks and soup to recover.

yesssss always!!! I had so much fun with this, it hit me right in the Honey Nut Feelios and I hope it does the same for u, sunshine 😩

After still feeling like total crap for several days while his brothers were almost completely recovered from the cold they’d all caught, Choromatsu finally breaks down and goes to the doctor.

He doesn’t really want to. Being sick is something they all hate, and continuing to suffer after everyone else felt better is just astronomically unfair. Sometimes he thinks he can will himself back to health if only he sleeps and takes medicine and does everything a sick person is supposed to do.

The others prod at him to get checked out, though, considering the fact that lately every time he’s tried to speak, it’s set off a cough and is painful even to those just listening.

When he comes back home with a pharmacy bag and an informational sheet proclaiming that he’s been diagnosed with laryngitis, it explains a lot.

He has little choice but to hand the sheet over to Osomatsu as Karamatsu comes over to help remove his scarf and coat and walk him over to the kotatsu. The eldest of them doesn’t necessarily know best all the time, but usually when one of them is sick or hurt with more than a cold or a tiny scrape, Osomatsu often slides into big brother mode and shows a surprising amount of maturity.

For once, Choromatsu is actually glad his oldest brother is taking charge of the situation.

“Okaaaay, guys,” he calls as Choromatsu settles in at the table. “So this thing says Choromatsu has… acute laryngitis. The doctor thinks it’s because he had a cold, I guess, since it says ‘viral cause’. Huh.”

Everyone else is already seated around the kotatsu since it’s the middle of winter and freezing. Jyushimatsu’s arm shoots up right away. “Oh! What’s laryngitis? That’s a funny word. Are we gonna get it too?”

Choromatsu opens his mouth to try and explain, like usual. Instead, he manages to get out a weak, “Probably not,” before he starts to cough.

“Hey,” Osomatsu pouts as Karamatsu pats the third eldest on the back, “this thing says you’re not supposed to talk if you can help it, Fappymatsu. So, y’know… shut up.”

What he gets in return for his efforts is an unimpressed glare.

Osomatsu grins, running a finger under his nose before looking back at the information sheet. “Well, I’m not wrong! Okay, so… the cold was contagious, but it says the actual laryngitis isn’t. It’s just some kind of throat thing that happened because of the cold. So it might happen for the rest of us, but I doubt it since we’re all feeling better already. Choromatsu just has bad luck, I guess.”

Karamatsu hums in thought and continues to rub his brother’s back. “Hmph, we’re probably safe then. Which means we just have to focus on taking care of our dear brother. How do we do that?”

Choromatsu holds the bag from the pharmacy up, allowing Ichimatsu to snatch it and dump the contents out on the table. He points toward the things he picked up at the doctor’s recommendation ― over-the-counter painkillers, lozenges, a throat spray, and cough syrup. There’s other stuff mixed in too, like tissues and a jar of yuzu-cha and a magazine. Though he could have lived without everyone seeing that, it’s not a huge deal.

Osomatsu waves the paper before picking through everything on the table. “Well, it says they don’t have any kind of prescription to give him. No antibiotics since it’s viral. Looks like it says the cough medicines and painkillers might help. ‘Home remedies may also provide temporary relief’… like tea and soup, huh? So we should probably try to keep the bastard hydrated with warm stuff.”

Karamatsu gets to his feet, grabbing the jar of yuzu-cha on his way. “In that case, why don’t I go mix up some of this for you right now? After being out in the cold air, your throat could probably use something warm. Want me to add a little honey?”

Choromatsu nods eagerly, mouthing, “Yes, please.”

Karamatsu’s face brightens at being useful, and he gives an exaggerated pose before heading into the kitchen. “What a good patient! Your big brother will be back with something soothing before you know it!”

“Hold on,” Totty comments as he scoots the lozenges, spray, and syrup toward him, “did you get all this stuff to take for your throat?”

His eyes scan over the labels, then roll back in his head when he’s finished. “Ah, Choromatsu-nii-san! You can’t take all of these at the same time. See, look. They all say ‘do not use with other medications containing’ ― uh ― well ― w-well, I can’t pronounce the word, but it’s the same one! They must all contain this ingredient, so you can’t take them all in the same day.”

Ichimatsu makes a gesture for Totty to hand them over, then nods after reading them. “Yeah, he’s right. If you take all these in the same day, even if you use each one like the directions say, you’ll be basically overdosing on this shit. Your mouth’ll go numb. Be drooling all over the place and maybe having trouble breathing.”

All the medicine is plucked from his hands by Osomatsu. “Okay, so we’ll rotate ‘em, and I’ll take care of giving it to you whenever you need medicine. Y’know, so that fever doesn’t fry your brain and make you forget which one you’re taking for the day. Which one do you wanna use today?”

Choromatsu lets out a soft groan which only serves to irritate his throat further. He could seriously just kick his own ass for not checking that before he bought all of those. The only excuse he has is that he’s in a lot of pain and not thinking like he normally does. He points to the spray, thinking maybe it’ll feel kind of like sour spray candy; once it gets sprayed on, it melts and lingers for a minute, which might be a nice quality in a medicine for sore throats.

“Alright, open up.” Osomatsu tears off the plastic packaging. “Totty, Ichimatsu, did either of you see how many times I’m supposed to spray this?”

“Two sprays every two hours as needed. But it’s only supposed to stay for fifteen seconds, then he has to spit it out. He’s not supposed to swallow it or it might give him a stomachache. Totty, you wanna go get an empty cup for him to spit in and a glass of water to wash the taste out of his mouth afterwards?”

“What?? Why can’t you do it? Your legs aren’t broken!”

“Yeah, but I’m busy.”

“Are you kidding me? Doing what?!”

Ichimatsu shuffles himself closer to Choromatsu and puts an arm around his big brother. “I’m his emotional support Ichimatsu.”

Choromatsu chuckles a bit, though it turns into coughing pretty quickly.

“Oh, my God. Now you know why you’re not first in my brother rankings, right?” Totty grumbles, but gets up anyway. “Fiiiiine, I’ll be right back.”

The idea of an emotional support anything is nice, though, so Choromatsu leans into the contact, resting his head on Ichimatsu’s shoulder. As it is, the fourth eldest is almost like a cat, warm and cuddly when he feels like it.

His fever must be getting to him, because he could even swear he hears Ichimatsu purring.

The next three days in the Matsuno household are, predictably, a little wild.

Although Choromatsu sleeps on the couch in the other room so that his coughing doesn’t wake his brothers, it’s pretty much all for naught. At least one of them ends up missing him in the night and coming to camp out with him anyway; he just counts his lucky stars that when he needs them most, they show themselves to be pretty great brothers.

He also practically lives on soup and tea. Mom and the others try to switch it up a little, because otherwise eating and drinking the same things every day would drive him nuts. Plain miso and zosui were fine for the first day, but after he could breathe through his nose and smell things again, they started offering him other stuff.

Honestly, shogayu and negi-miso-yu have never tasted so good. Now that he can taste the yuzu-cha, too, and Karamatsu prepares some for him at least once in the afternoon, it’s like a small slice of heaven. He’s pretty sure Karamatsu can tell how grateful he is even without words, if the stupidly proud look on his older brother’s face whenever Choromatsu drinks it is any indication.

His throat still hurts like hell for a while. It’s difficult to speak, so Osomatsu, in his infinite wisdom, has relegated his brother to using a mini dry erase board and marker if he needs to say anything. That doesn’t mean Choromatsu doesn’t try to talk. He does his best not to if he doesn’t absolutely need to, however, since he wants to be rid of this thing more than anyone.

Thankfully, everyone is apparently using this as an excuse to treat him nicely. He gets to sit in front of the TV watching Nyaa-chan concerts almost nonstop, while nestling in against his emotional support Ichimatsu. Karamatsu in particular keeps checking every twenty minutes or so to see if there’s anything he can get for his little brother, and whatever Choromatsu asks for, he gets. Hell, at one point he’s craving ice cream, even though milky things aren’t a good idea for someone who’s coughing, and Karamatsu comes back with a melon ice pop, which is almost as good.

Totty even manages to do something nice while typing away on his phone. He says he’s got Choromatsu a date. With a girl. Who likes pop idols. Who’s really excited to meet him as soon as he’s better. He says he texted her a picture of Choromatsu and she thinks he’s really cute. It’s perhaps a good thing that he can’t say much right now, because he’s sure he’d scream loud enough to lose his voice a second time.

Jyushimatsu even sits there on Choromatsu’s other side, and reads magazine articles to him whenever they’re not watching TV. Of course, he doesn’t read the dirty articles… well, he doesn’t read those out loud after the first time he tried and everybody ended up crying with laughter. They all joked that even when he was sick that would be Choromatsu’s main priority, and for once, he laughed along with them despite the fact that it made him cough.

The one who surprises him the most is Osomatsu. Maybe that shouldn’t actually be a surprise, though. He fills the role of diligent oldest brother with a lot more ease than one might expect; he breaks out the thermometer every few hours to make sure Choromatsu’s fever isn’t getting higher, he keeps track of which medicines Choromatsu is supposed to take and when, he helps Mom cook things that will help Choromatsu feel better, and if he’s not doing any of that other stuff, he’s positioned with Choromatsu sitting on his lap, with Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu on either side, running his fingers through his little brother’s hair. It almost feels like the way things were when they were all kids.

Choromatsu is easily tired out when he’s sick, and he’s 99.99999% sure that it’s Osomatsu who carries him to bed every night when he inevitably falls asleep.

Despite the fact that he gives them a lot of shit, and none of them are perfect people, he knows he’s got some pretty amazing brothers.

Today he’s feeling nearly back to his old self, and his throat is less sore than it’s been in over a week. He knows it’s partially thanks to rest and partially thanks to how well his family has been taking care of him. Despite that he’s starting to recover, the others are still treating him much the same as they have been. Tea whenever he wants it ― as well as Karamatsu shoving it in his direction, urging him to drink with that pathetic puppy dog face of his, even when he doesn’t quite want it ― and lots of head pats and the TV turned to whatever he’s in the mood for.

He’s not quite as tired as he’s been lately, so it would be all too effortless to just take advantage of all this. Instead, his thoughts have just kept turning to how grateful he is to have so many people he can count on.

There’s some small part of him that has to admit he can be just as bad as they all are sometimes. He can be selfish and rude and lazy. But when one of his brothers is sick or hurt, he knows he steps up to the plate to try and take care of them. To know that they’re all willing to do the same for him when he’s the one in need makes him happier than he thinks he’s been in a long time.

He’s still got the dumb little whiteboard Osomatsu gave him, because his voice isn’t back to normal just yet. For a moment, he scribbles on it, then he holds it up for Osomatsu who’s sitting behind him. “Hey, Oso,” he speaks up in a quiet, breathy, raspy voice.

“Uh…! Hey, dumbass, you’re not supposed to be talking yet,” Osomatsu laughs, then lifts his head to look at the board. “… Huh? Choromatsu… hey…”

He laughs in a way that makes it sound like he’s about to cry, then takes the board and waves it to get everyone else’s attention. “Hey, guys! Haha… look! Look at this shit!”

Four other pairs of eyes turn in their direction. Practically as soon as everyone has processed what Choromatsu has written, he’s buried in a pile of brothers. He gets arms put around him, and kisses on his forehead, and everyone nuzzling against his face. They’re all laughing in that same way Osomatsu did…

… Well, until they all start actually crying. Including Choromatsu himself.

The whiteboard falls to the ground, mostly forgotten, but the words written on it hanging over the sextuplets like a rainbow.

Thanks for everything. I love you guys. 💚

#Osomatsu san #whump #Choromatsu #Osomatsu #Karamatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #illness #laryngitis #caretaking #UGHHHHH THEY'RE ALL SUCH GOOD BOYS DAMMIT #I'm crying into my tea I love them so much look at them aLL AGGRESSIVELY TAKING CARE OF ONE OF THEIR OWN

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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Hiii! I am here again to suggest another soft, kind of hurt/comfort, but also fluffy, drabble prompt!

Basically Techno and Phil taking care of Techno’s s/o when they get sick. Like, fever, sore muscles/body, almost throwing up, etc. Phillpa is over there being really worried for her parent, and Phil and techno are also really worried for s/o.

Just Phil and Techno being really soft towards s/o because they’re sick, in a lot of pain and pretty weak at the moment.

(Lots of forehead kisses, hair petting, and other soft forms of small affection 🥺🥺)

Hello friend! My apologies for taking a long time to get to this!

But oh to have this right now…. Also I added a page break cause it’s a little long... Whoops

TW: Vomiting and getting sick.

So you would have been feeling like something was not right with your body a few days before it hits full force. Like you’re playing with Pip and you stand up and you get really dizzy and have to catch your balance. Or you would be talking and it all of the sudden feels like something is in the back of your throat and you have to take a few deep breaths to will it down before you can continue. So it really shouldn’t have come as a shock to you when one day, really earlier in the morning, your eyes fly open, your stomach lurches, and you fling yourself out of bed and into the bathroom and just start retching in the toilet. The dinner you ate and the late night snack you and Techno had after Pip went to bed just coming up and making a reappearance in the toilet. You vaguely recognize a hand on your back and in your hair, holding it away from your face. After you’re finished you reach up and flush the toilet and pull yourself up. Your eyes meet Techno’s who is staring at you in concern. “Are you alright, love?” he asks softly. You give him a little shrug and a head shake, “I think I’m fine for now, but I definitely am sick.” and now that you’ve spoken, you can hear it in your own voice. It’s weak and scratchy and you’re going to have a hard time speaking as the day goes on. Techno gives you a small nod before helping you stand up and brush your teeth before ushering you back to bed. You’re able to fall asleep, but your body is beginning to ache.

The next time you wake up, it feels like you’ve been literally dragged to hell and back. Your whole body is on fire, but you’re also shivering. Your arms and legs ache and your head is in a lot of pain as well. You can only tilt your head ever so slightly to look at Techno who has all of the blankets piled on top of him, you can only assume due to you throwing them on him after your body got too hot. You try to say his name, but nothing comes out, you’re throat too dry and sore. The smallest whimper of pain escapes your lips, you think it’s not going to be enough to wake him. But you’re stunned as Techno’s eyes shoot open, filled with worry, and meet yours. Techno sits up and looks you up and down before jumping into action. “Oh love,” he whispers as he moves around the bed to your side. He places the back of his hand to your forehead and then to your cheeks. “You definitely have a fever. I’ll go get you some water and a cold towel. Do you want anything else?” “Medicine” you manage to get out. Luckily he gets it. Techno leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead before turning and walking out of the room to get you the things he offered.

It doesn’t take him long. He helps you sit up against the headboard, hands you the glass and pills, and sits down on the mattress next to you. As you drink and take the meds, Techno places a damp cool towel across your forehead. You can’t help but let out a content sigh as the cool water slides down your sore throat. “Thank you,” you manage to croak out. Techno simply smiles and reaches out and gives your hand a small squeeze. “Of course, love.” He mumbles as he adjusts himself so he can pull you close to him. You’re not worried about getting him sick, he’s half pigman so he quite literally never gets sick. (At least for this drabble lol). You two just sit in content silence for a while. While you’re sitting there, you begin to shiver and Techno helps wrap you in a burrito blanket, tight enough to be snug but not too tight to where you feel trapped and just goes back to holding you to him, the whole time he’s stroking your hair and giving your little head kisses.

A little while later, your bedroom door opens and there is Philippa standing in the doorway with her stuffed pig. “Breakfast?” She demands softly causing both you and Techno to chuckle. Techno slowly unwraps himself from you and leaves the bed. He quickly scoops Philippa up and presses many kisses to her cheeks, “Let’s go to the kitchen to get you breakfast Pip.” He says. Before he can begin walking, Pip stops him and points to you. “Baba?” “Baba isn’t feeling too good right now honey. Maybe after breakfast we can come back in here and you can cuddle with them to make them feel better, how’s that sound.” Philippa giggles and claps her hands at the idea of getting to lay in your bed and cuddle with you. It warms your heart and makes you feel just a little less sick. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

Breakfast takes about 20 minutes. Pip comes barreling into the room at full speed and quite literally jumps on top of you, causing a shock of pain to go through your body, but you’d never let her know that. You untuck your arms from the blankets and just scoop her up in your arms and kiss her forehead. Luckily, she’s also part pigman so you know she won’t get sick from you either. So you pull your little girl close to your chest and kiss her forehead as she snuggles her face into your chest. “Philippa I told you to wait for me and to be gentle around Baba.” Techno scolds as he walks into your bedroom holding a plate in one hand. “Sorry daddy,” she apologizes, not moving her face out of your chest so it’s just very muffled, but he gets to gist. He lets out a sigh but sits next to you and gives you an apologetic look to which you just shrug to. “I made you some breakfast if you’re feeling up to it.” You glance at the plate and see some eggs, bread, and yogurt. It’s soft foods to help your throat and things that shouldn’t upset your tummy further. You give a small nod and Techno grabs the fork, scoops some eggs, and offers them to you. You almost can’t believe he’s about to feed you, but then you remember it’s Techno and of course he’s being a little extra, so you just open your mouth and let him feed you. You take your own breakfast slowly, making sure that the food you were eating wasn’t upsetting your stomach. After you were done a soft yawn escaped your lips. “Okay Pip, let’s let Baba rest.” Techno says, standing up and holding his arms out to Pip. But she doesn’t listen, she lets out a small grumble and buries herself closer to you, “Warm” is the only thing she mumbles. You meet Techno’s eyes and just give him a small shrug, “I don’t mind,” you claim sleepily. Techno gives you a soft smile and a nod, leaning down and kissing your forehead and then Pip’s head. He sets the plate to the side and helps you lay back down in a way that both you and Philippa were comfortable. He leaves with the plate and comes back quickly and crawls in next to you. You fall asleep cuddled up between your child and your husband.

When you open your eyes again, neither of them are beside you. Instead, it’s Philza who is sitting on the mattress next to you, reading a book. “Dad?” You croak out, trying to sit up. Phil quickly drops his book and helps you sit up, making sure you were comfy before picking up the book and properly setting the book to the side. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He asks, reaching out an placing a hand on your forehead and then cheeks. You take a pause and assess how your body feels before answering, “okay. I’m still sore and feel a little nauseous but okay. What are you doing here?” Philza lets out a hum and nods, “Well you’re fever broke so that’s good. And Techno called me, told me you were sick so I decided to come over and help him take care of you and Philippa. They’re making a late lunch right now. Chicken Noodle soup if you’re up for it,” He explains gently, his hand falling to your head where he just begins to play with your hair to help soothe you. It works and feels really nice. You let out a small content sigh and nod. “Yeah. I’m feeling up to it… This is kind of embarrassing to ask, but can you help me to the bathroom? My whole body aches and I think I would collapse if I tried to get there on my own.” Philza doesn’t even react. He only retracts his hand, stands up and scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on your feet. “Can you… Ya know, go on your own or do you need help with that too?” He asks genuinely ready to help if you need it. You brace yourself on the counter and give him a smile, “I’ve got it. Just need help getting here and back” you answer. Philza gives you a thumbs up before leaving the bathroom.

You quickly do your business and wash your hands before calling Phil back in to help you back out. He doesn’t take you back to bed like you expected, but he carries you to the kitchen and sits you down at the table. He places a kiss to the top of your head before moving to the counter. Techno quickly takes his place and places a bowl and a spoon in front of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then lips. “I hope you like it. I tried to follow your recipe, but we know how that goes.” and you can’t help but giggle, because yes. Yes you do. Philippa has her own bowl and set it down next to yours before she crawls into your lap, leaning her head back onto your chest and begins eating. You wrap one arm around her and pick up your spoon and slowly begin eating too. Techno and Philza quickly join you with their own bowls. You all take your time eating so that you finish at the same time. Once finished, Techno gathers the bowls and places them in the sink while Philza helps you to the couch. There you four gather in a big cuddle pile in front of the couch with a bucket beside you, just in case. Being sick sucks, but when you have these three to take care of you, it sucks just a little bit less.

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt drabble #ray responds #tw: vomitting #technoblade #philza #philippa #technoblade drabble #technoblade imagine #philza drabble #philza imagine #getting sick #dedicated drabble

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animeyanderelover · 4 years ago

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Howdy! Thank you for the last request I loved it! Could I request a Yandere Mikasa Ackerman with a fem s/o? Prompt 25. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.” Thank you again for this!

Mikasa is one badass of a woman. She’ll be aged up in here.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Yandere breaking into the house, sick s/o

Prompt 25: “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.”

It hadn’t been a good idea to not tell Mikasa that you had catched fever and a really bad cough. You just simply didn’t want to interrupt her from all the shit she had currently with her. She was an important part of the scouts and one of the strongest soldiers in there. And she shouldn’t miss too much time from being a help for humanity just because your body had been too silly to defend itself against this virus. She had more important things to do than caring for you. That’s what you had told yourself. That had been the reason why you hadn’t told her yet. You didn’t want her to worry too much because Mikasa was a bit too overprotective. Okay, maybe that was an understatement. She was very overprotective. You couldn’t exactly blame her after all that had happened to her. Losing her parents and witnessing her foster mother being eaten had left scars on her mind which had never fully healed. And sure, you found it sometimes very cute when she insisted on feeding you or carry your things. But your problem was that she did it all the freaking time. She didn’t let you do anything on your own and as soon as you hurt yourself because you did something without her help, she never let you do it again. You remembered that one time where you had cut yourself whilst chopping vegetables. That was something which could happen to everyone. But Mikasa had made a fuss about it as if you had just lost your whole hand. After that she had never again let you help in the kitchen, telling you she would do it for you.

So if that had been her reaction when you had cut yourself you didn’t want to find out what she would do upon discovering that you were sick. The last time you had seen her was yesterday and even then you had already felt not good. But as soon as you had opened your eyes today? Your throat felt like someone had just shoved buckets of sand down, your head had been pounding painfully, your body felt hot and cold at the same time and your muscles felt like they had been made out of jelly. It had taken you more energy than it should have to stand up and make yourself breakfast which you hadn’t even eaten in the end. That’s when you had decided to take a day off. That had only been a few hours ago and you had informed one of your neighbors to excuse yourself from work. Right now you were laying limply deeply burried into your mattress, completely hidden under your blanket. You didn’t feel like moving at all. You knew that you should make yourself some tea or hot soup, drink something or get a doctor. But you honestly hadn’t the energy. But it wasn’t like you would die on this. You had witnessed worse than this than a fever. Another coughing fit came over you and your whole body started shaking. “That sucks.”, you managed to press out, your voice hurting your dry and sensitive throat. You groaned and turned around, feeling too tired to keep your eyes for much more longer open.

That was at least until you noticed something that nearly gave you a heart attack. You had covered yourself from head to toe with your blanket, but had one spot left open for fresh air to come in. And in that small opening you saw someone giving you a truly horrifying look. At first you just froze and stared at those eyes, feeling like the intensity in them could actually kill you. But your paralyzed state only lasted for a few seconds before you let a scream out and threw the blanket away from you, fully prepared to make a run for it. But before you could even touch the cold floor with your feet you were suddenly slammed back into bed, forcefully tugged into the blanket once again. And that’s when you finally realized who your intruder was. “Mikasa?!”, you yelled shocked. Your voice scratched painfully against your throat, making you groan and lay your hand above the area where it was hurting. Not only that, but in that moment another coughing fit came over you, making you quickly turn into the other direction. You didn’t want to make Mikasa sick as well even though you doubted that she would get that easily ill like you. What was she doing here? Did she come to check up on you? But how did she even got into the house?

“Mikasa, how did you get-“ She hushed you by laying her index finger over your lips. “Save your voice.” You pressed your lips together and nodded, not daring to disobey her. The look she had given you only a few minutes ago still being present in your head. Mikasa removed her finger and layed her hand instead on your forehead, checking your temperature. She removed her hand and stood up, towering over you. You blinked up to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” On her face was a disappointed look and you could have sworn that her voice had sounded almost...rebuking. But before you could answer her she continued:”Were you worried that I would miss some important stuff with the scouts?” You nodded slowly, carefully observing her. What would she do now? You wanted to sit up and tell her that you were fine, wanting to tell her that you could take care of yourself. But as soon as you tried to force your weak body to move she gently pressed you down again. “I’ve already taken a look in your kitchen. You haven’t eaten anything so far. Your breakfast is still lying there. Your throat must hurt too much whilst swallowing. And you are obviously too exhausted to move. That’s why you couldn’t make yourself a herbal tea or soup. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

She gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before standing up and walking out of your room. “Be a good girl and stay in bed. If you even do as much as letting on of your toes touching the ground I’ll tie you to your bed so you can’t leave it.” You let some half hearted laughter out. “What a nice joke.” She glanced at you shortly over her shoulder. You couldn’t find even a trail of amusement in there. “Wait! That was a joke, right?” Another sharp glare from her made you shut up, remembering that she had told you to not overuse your voice. You heard her walking into the kitchen and shortly after the clinking of iron and wood in there. “She wouldn’t really tie me up, would she?”, you thought worriedly. For a short moment you felt tempted to try out before quickly pushing that decision aside. No, you didn’t want to find out. You couldn’t imagine that being tied up to your bed would be really comfortable. And your body ached anyways as soon as you moved even a muscle. So just relaxing and basking in the softness and warmth of your bed was much more appealing to you. So you just let yourself sink into the mattress, letting a small and content sigh out when feeling the pillow gently lulling you into sleep. Before your eyes finally closed the question how she had gotten into your house crossed your mind once again. Before you were completely swallowed by darkness you decided to ask her later and get an answer from her.

You were stirred up from your peaceful sleep by feeling Mikasa gently shaking your shoulder. The strong scent of herbsoup. You turned sluggish around, needing to keep blinking in order to not close your eyes for too long. Your eyes darted from Mikasa to the soup plate she was holding in her hands and the glas of water standing on your nightstand. “Wat’cha want?”, you mumbled, still drunk on sleep. “I know you’re tired, but your body needs energy to heal itself. You need to eat this. I made sure to not make it too bitter. But just in case I brought you a Glas of water.” Truth told, you weren’t a fan of those kind of soups. They tasted awful. But you kind of knew that Mikasa wouldn’t let this count as a reason. So you sat up in slow motion and dragged your hand upwards to grab the spoon sticking out of the steaming liquid. That was until Mikasa suddenly grabbed the spoon. “I’ll feed you.” Not again. “Mikasa,”, you began, trying to reason with her,”I know that I’m ill and not in my best condition. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t-hmm!” You were interrupted when she suddenly shoved the spoon in your mouth. “Swallow it.” You did as you were told. The warm liquid felt nice and warm whilst flowing down your throat, making all the scratching parts hurt less. But it was the terrible aftertaste that made your whole face twist for a short second in a ugly mask. And to think about that you had to eat the whole plate to make Mikasa satisfied.

“One is done. Only a few handful more to go.”, Mikasa said in a praising tone and scooped the next spoon up. This time you were smart enough to cover your mouth with your hands before speaking:”Don’t you have work to do? I mean, the scouts probably need you right now.” “The work I have to do now is more important. Eren and Armin already agreed on working harder to make up for my absence.”, she answered you. “What if you get in trouble or become sick yourself? Or what if-“ Once again Mikasa interrupted your babbling about trying to find a way to not let her forc feed you. “(y/n).” Her voice was gentle, yet stern. “I couldn’t care less about getting in troubles with my superiors. And I don’t mind getting infected from you. It would only give me an excuse more to stay with you. Now remove your hands and let me feed you. Or I’ll make you.” This was the part where you would have normally always started to argue with her about that you weren’t a small child that needed their mama to do anything for them. She would always listen calmly to your arguments before countering back and insisting on letting her take care of you. You needed to give one thing to her. Mikasa had in such situations always the patience a mother had with her toddler. But after some time she would always become a bit more forceful and do what you were just about to do for you. It had often happened that she had ripped whatever you had been supposed to carry out of your hand and quickly running away with it whilst you had chased after her. And when it came to eating it was either that she always shoved the food in whenever you opened your mouth or just forced you to open your mouth.

The thing was that you hadn’t the chance to even try to put up a fight now. Not with your whole body being drained out of it’s energy. And you also weren’t in the mood to start struggling. All you wanted was just laying down again and continue sleeping. Your slightly tensed shoulders slumped down in defeat and you just opened your mouth. This caused a small smile to appear on Mikasa’s face and she quickly shoved it into your mouth. This continued for some time until you noticed to your huge relief that you had nearly finished everything. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.” This caused you to give Mikasa a shocked look. “So you like it when I feel like shit?” She quickly shook her head. “No. I didn’t mean it like this...” “But?”, you asked. “It’s just nice that you let me do everything for you without me having to get a bit more strict.” You blinked at her a few times, not quite believing that she had actually had said this. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”, you asked before grabbing the glass of water and washing up all the bitter aftertaste the soup had left. Mikasa on the other hand just stared at you, making you raise an eyebrow at her.

“I know I look terrible.”, you told her in a half jokingly tone. “I think you’re beautiful.”, she told you sincerely. You quickly turned away, trying to hide the slight pink dusting your cheeks. “You look always beautiful to me (y/n).”, Mikasa continued, making the blush on your face deepen. But luckily Mikasa didn’t seem to want to continue. Instead she just pressed you once again into your pillow. “Now get some rest. If you need something just call for me. I’ll be here for you.” You hummed in response, the soup taking it’s effect on you. You just snuggled yourself tighter into your bed whilst Mikasa made sure that you were tightly tugged into your blanket. She gave you one last kiss on the forehead, letting her lips stay there for a short moment before pulling away and leaving your room. But she stopped one last time in the door frame. “(y/n)?” You gave some sort of noise from you, signaling her that you were listening. “The next time you’re sick you inform me instantly or else I’ll have to break your door open again.”

#yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere snk #yandere mikasa #yandere mikasa ackerman

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thebounty · 4 years ago

Text

Incompatible (Mandalorian x Female!Hunter!Jedi Reader)

Chapter One: The Huntress

Words: 6.5k

Warnings: language, tension? Some grammar errors. That’s about it!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here is chapter one of Incompatible! I hope you all enjoy it, feedback is highly appreciated. This story will be following some typical canon events, but might stray away from it most of the time to have a more unique story and more unpredictable events. Enjoy!

Chapter One: The Huntress

“Kriff. How long could one person hide out in this hell forsaken planet.” You whispered, perched on a dune on the planet Tatooine, waiting for your bounty to leave the cantina they have no doubt been hiding in for the past two hours. You always managed to have bounties here, and for some reason you kept taking them. Even though you hated- no despised- this planet.

Something about Tatooine always got under your skin. Maybe it was the fact that your clothes were black and leather keeping the heat close to your body. Or the fact that you always ran into some sort of trouble here. No matter how many bounties you successfully caught here, you always seemed to leave with a new scar as well. The force was strong here as well, it was more prominent here than any other planet. That might be why as well.

“Well, I hope it won’t be much longer. I’m kriffing starving.” You groaned and looked through your binoculars once more, reading the heat signature of your bounty still in the cantina, and sighed. You mentally slapped yourself in the face for taking this offer Greef Karga gave you. However, the reward was substantial, so you guess you could live. You wondered why the reward was so high, this criminal didn’t seem out of the ordinary for you, no one special. Shrugging you thought of a new plan, since all else seemed to fail at this point.

“Maybe I’ll go pay them a visit. Kill two birds with one stone and hope I don’t break anything else in the cantina.” You shook your head while wiping the sweat off your brow. It wasn’t the worst idea, but it was not the best idea either. This cantina had to have a record of you somewhere, they had to. Because every single bounty on this planet seemed to go to this cantina, and you could not afford to pay for another set of booths, tables, and liquor you destroyed from obtaining a bounty. They probably did it so they could fund the cantina with your destruction. Even though you so could afford a few broken tables and what not, you did not want to waste your credits on something useless, and potentially destroy the food you plan on eating afterwards.

“Alright, I guess this is going to go one of two ways. And I am eating afterwards, that’s always on the table. No matter how this ends.” You spoke into the setting sun, with no one else accompanying you on your hunts, ever, you always spoke to the sun. Or the moon depending on the time of day. Even though you could technically speak to someone through the force, you did not want to waste any energy in a pointless conversation. You might need it later. The setting sun creates a beautiful picture in front of you, almost making you forget what planet you were on. But the ever-present sand that lingers inside your boots makes you remember where you are.

Stuffing your binoculars and your blaster back in the holster you ran a hand over your concealed dagger and hauled yourself up to make your way to the cantina. You were boiling to say the least, your clothes seemed to be way tighter than normal given the heat, so walking was uncomfortable. But you decided that looking menacing was more useful to you than comfort, so you didn’t pay any mind to the way your thighs were chaffing against each other. Your cloak flowed behind you in the wind as you marched through the tiny village, sticking out like a sore thumb among the people here who mostly wore white and tan clothes to go against the unforgiving sun. Well, they had the right idea, you thought as your black boots hit the sand getting closer to the cantina. Taking a deep breath, you stepped on the platform to open the door.

The doors swung open, allowing your cloak to sway in the wind it created to help make you more intimidating. All heads turned towards you, making you smirk. You knew everyone here knew who you were. Based on the history of the cantina for starters and the fact that you were a ruthless bounty hunter of the guild, you loved being intimidating. You walked slowly, making sure to scan the room before your eyes landed on your bounty, a blue Twi’lek male, and gave him a wink before asking for a drink from the bartender.

The Twi’lek tensed, around what seemed to be, possibly, his group of friends. His heart was pounding in his chest. Maybe she was not here for me, he thought, maybe she just thought I was attractive, he told himself while looking at his drink before looking up again at her. However, she was no longer in her seat at the bar. Panic written all over his face, he tensed as he slowly scanned the room but found no trace of her. Maybe she left?

“Looking for someone?” Whispered a voice, and before anyone could so much as breathe in response, you pulled your dagger against his throat. The sight of their expressions alone was enough payment. The shock mixed with confusion was enough to make your ego soar. You always dreamed of being this intimidating, and it was far too easy with this bounty and his companions. His friends all tensed around you while you held your dagger hard against their criminal of a friend’s neck. You chuckled.

“Well, here I am, and I hope you plan to come with me willingly. It has been an awfully long day, and all I want is to stuff your ass in carbonite on my ship and eat some fucking soup.” You insisted while the Twi’lek male shuttered and gulped before speaking. The people around you were deathly still while you held your beautiful dagger. So many people have tried to buy it from you in the past, and you don’t blame them. It was made of beskar, which you just recently realized was exceedingly rare, that your father gave you. So, you always held it tightly to you, but it was so good at slicing through flesh you couldn’t keep it hidden like the lightsaber strapped to your back. That was a different type of concealment.

“I-I…I don’t think you h-have the right guy miss…” He stammered causing you to laugh, almost doubling over. You yanked out the tracking fob before pressing it on the table to show that you in fact had the right person. The blue hologram showing the Twi’leks face, reflected off the steel table and created a nice glow in the dimly lit cantina. Some rays of orange peaked through the windows as the two suns continued to set in the distance. If you had the time to sit back and admire the scenery you probably would have liked the colors, but you were too focused on getting this bounty in carbonite.

“Ah, but sir I do in fact have the right person.” You sneered as you continued.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which will it be?” You threatened closely to his ear, before awaiting his response. You pressed the dagger a little harder on his throat to edge him on. Looking at his friends tensing up even more with the sight of blood on their companions’ neck, you almost chuckled on how easily it was to read them. You could read people so easily. Having been on this job for so long it was so simple to read someone’s movement and interpret their next move, their face always gave it away.

“We don’t have all day.” You hissed starting to get eager, and your stomach rumbled along with your voice, so that was something to fight against. Your never-ending hunger.

Before you could register their answer, his friends all stood up from the table weapons in their hands now. Ready to defend their friend, how touching, you thought.

“Well, I guess I will have to take all of you down as well.” You made sure to quickly strap the Twi’lek beneath you in hand cuffs, igniting their magnetic qualities into the table before leaping over it. You intertwined your legs around the first man’s throat, twisting around and knocking them onto the hard ground with a thud. You must have knocked him out since there was no noise upon impact. You stood up quickly, grabbing your dagger and fought off the next man who ran at you. They had a small dagger in their hands and aimed for your side first which you quickly blocked. Taking one of your legs you hooked it around their left knee and pushed them backwards, then taking the dagger in your right hand you cut at their side, not killing them, but leaving them on the ground too weak to get up again. There was one remaining, but they had a blaster aimed at your head. You mentally checked yourself for the minor mistake, not being able to forgive yourself with the ruthless training you had to ever let another person have the upper hand.

“Don’t move! Or will blow your brains out! S-Stand up slowly!” The man boomed, causing you to smirk at his little stutter. Raising your hands in the air, and slowly trying to stand up, making it seem like you were giving in to their efforts.

“Alright, alright. Hang on, let me put my dagger down first. Then we can talk. Okay?” You stammered, slightly out of breath, as you lowered your dagger. However, you concealed your left hand under your cloak, gently wrapping your fingers around your blaster and the trigger. You slowly rose to your feet, hearing nothing as the cantina went quiet. You looked at the man holding the blaster with two hands and slightly shaking. Must be his first rodeo, you thought. You stood up to your full height and stared at him, looking deadly into his unforgiving black eyes.

“Show me your other hand, hunter.” He sneered causing you to chuckle. You quickly brought out your left hand and pulled the trigger before he could even sense something was wrong. It didn’t stop him from shooting his own blaster in shock. You hit him dead in the chest, while his blaster grazed your shoulder. You hissed and covered your shoulder with your hand, pulling it away you saw blood, but the pain was not horrible, so it was not of importance right now.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You whispered knowing you were going to leave this planet with yet another scar. You shook it off and turned towards the Twi’lek man who was still trapped at the table with an unforgiving expression upon his face, making you almost forget the pain in your shoulder. It was funny, looking at his shocked expression. It was nothing concerning to you, you knew you could take all his friends and more to get the bounty. Looking around you didn’t cause as much damage as you thought, so you were happy about the low price to replace the table. The bartender, however, was not as pleased, as always.

“You’ll have to pay- “They started.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You snickered and tossed them a few credits before sitting down at the table with the Twi’lek. You felt the confusion rolling off of them in waves, obviously not knowing how to react to a bounty hunter sitting with them after a fight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the friends as well.” You added to the bartender, looking down at the passed out and dead companions of the Twi’lek in front of you. You rested back against the chair and ordered yourself a large soup. Your black clothing seemed to screech as you shuffled along the chair, getting comfortable before relaxing against the cool metal. You liked this part of the job, when everything was taken care of, and you could finally eat some kriffing food. You didn’t need to look to feel the Twi’lek male get impatient at the table.

“Are you kriffing kidding.” The Twi’lek snickered across from you causing you to stop eating momentarily to glare at him. You tilted your head and grinned. You knew how much you could affect people by a single glace, it was so fun seeing how their whole dimeter change in one single look from you, it made you feel possessive and absolutely powerful.

“I’m sorry.” You started, sounding like a sorry schoolgirl as you pouted, obviously a show for the Twi’lek.

“I was starving after waiting for you to leave this stupid cantina. You wouldn’t have to be waiting here if you would have just left this place.” You rolled your eyes and finished your soup before grabbing the cuffs and hauling the Twi’lek to their feet. You took care of his friends by tossing a man at the cantina some credits to take care of it for you. You then left and headed to your ship up and across the sand dunes, to keep yourself hidden from any possible Jawas who wanted to take your parts for themselves.

It was a small ship, but it got the job done. It mostly resembled that of a Razor Crest, slightly smaller but it was perfect for you. The only other person you could think of that had a ship like you was the no other famous Mandalorian…but you had yours first. It had a carbonite chamber, a fresher, a cockpit, and your own bunk. It really is only meant for one person so its tight, but it’s home.

You listened to the Twi’lek trying to persuade you to let him go by bribing you with money, a passage somewhere, a good time, boring boring boring. You’ve heard it all before with countless bounties. They all never wanted to suffer the consequences of their actions yet failed to think about it when they pursued their crime.

“You should have thought about that before you broke the law.” You said before pushing him into the carbonite chamber. You sighed of relief, now having the freedom to take care of your wound and to have some kriffing peace and quiet. You pulled out your med pack before applying a bacta strip to the wound, you instantly felt the cooling of the bacta and the wound healing once it was tightly wrapped. You relaxed and made your way up to the cockpit to set the destination for Nevaro. After piloting out of the atmosphere, you sat down comfortably and punched in the coordinates and took in the sight of lightspeed. It would be a few hours yet, so you dozed off to get a few hours of shut eye. Maker knows you deserved it at least.

…

“No! Please, please don’t take them!”

“Quiet girl, or we’ll shoot them all.”

“My Moon, please listen to them.”

Darkness. Always darkness.

A scream.

…

Bolting awake with a gasp and a hand over your chest, you panted before realizing that it was a dream. The stars in hyperspace still danced around you as you tried to understand what happened. Oh, how you wished that your fathers’ arms were around you to comfort you as you shivered from the nightmare. He always came to you when you needed help, especially with the force. Your other siblings did not know you had this ability, only him. Since he too, had this same ability. He taught you how to wield a sword, how to fight against your enemies, and how to wield the light side of the force. Even though you knew you were using it for the dark side. But you would never admit that to yourself. You knew you only used the force when you needed to. When you needed to choke someone, when you needed to defeat someone, when your emotions were the influencer of the act. You knew that was the dark side, but you did not know how to use the force any differently. Eventually, you accepted the fact that you neither were on the light or dark side of the force, and you were not a Jedi.

“A nightmare.” You muttered, realizing this was nothing new. You gained your bearings before sinking back down into your seat with a slight groan. You were sweating as you calmed down trying to get lost in the scene of hyperspace in front of you as you did before all of this happened. Soon your heartbeat went back to normal and you sighed, running a hand through your hair. These nightmares kept happening. The same one, repeatedly inside your head, you couldn’t remember the last time you had an actual dream, something that was at least comforting even if you didn’t dream at all, it would be nicer than whatever was being created in your mind. You turned to the control panel and read that Nevaro was only a few more minutes away. You decided to jump out of hyperspace and stare down at the grey planet. It was littered with red streaks from the red lava that seeped from it. The planet was semi comfortable. You didn’t feel necessarily safe on it, but it was better than Tatooine that’s for sure.

“Well, at least I slept.” You muttered while cracking your back. It might not have been the best sleep, but you felt a little more rested than before. Your mussels ached from attacking the quarry and his friends, but you didn’t mind the ache at all. The pain in your shoulder was almost down to a dull ache as well when you shifted, testing the waters as you rotated your arm. Afterwards, you guided your ship down into the planet before landing in front of the town Greef was to be in. You shook your head and anticipated the people you might see here. The Mandalorian was one of them, and you did not have the patience to meet with him today or have any kind of interaction whatsoever, you did not like him, or it. Whatever it was hiding under the beskar helmet.

Leaping down from the latter to the hull of your ship, you grabbed anything necessary, like your blaster, dagger, and double checking to make sure your lightsaber was still strapped behind your back before opening the hanger of the ship.

The awful smell of the planet flooded your nose and made you squint to adjust to it. You’ve been here multiple times, but the smell of lava always struck you like you were new here. Gods, you really hated every planet, didn’t you? You shook your head before heading down the ramp and towards the town.

It was bustling with life, like it always was. It was curious to you, since this town operated the most advanced hunter’s guild you’ve ever known, yet the townsfolk had yet to realize this. Heads turned as you strutted through the town. It was normal for you to get a few glances, but the last few times you have had many stares your way. Possibly envy, but you honestly did not mind one bit. Let them stare, you whispered in your mind. Feeling the jealously from every person through the force was almost intoxicating when you reached yet, another cantina. You slightly groaned.

“What is it with the guild and cantinas? I do not understand the importance of meeting here.” You snickered before adjusting your clothing and heading inside. It was like everyone you knew in the guild was present in this cantina at the same time. You scanned the room, trying to understand the significance of everyone’s presence, yet you always came to the same conclusion when the possibilities ran through your mind. They are here because of you.

“There she is!” Shouted Greef Karga from the booth you were to meet him at. You could feel the tension in the room on your shoulders it was almost suffocating. Walking over to the booth everyone watched you, glaring. Interesting, this never usually happens to this extent, you thought. Must be something important.

“Greef.” You responded, nodding once as you sat down across from him in the booth. Reaching for your pack you pulled out the fob. Placing it on the table in front of Karga, he grinned widely. If you didn’t know him, you would have taken that grin as unsettling. Maybe this time it was.

“Ha! That’s my girl! I always can count on you for difficult bounties. I’ll send my team to go get the carbonite from your ship now.” He praised while taking the fob, ushering to his men to take care of the bounty on your ship while placing a pack of credits for you on the table. Only taking a glance at it before stuffing it away, you looked around again when everyone seemed to snicker and go back to what they were previously doing. Frowning you looked back at him, a grin still plastered on his face.

“It actually wasn’t difficult at all. Are you sure you’re thinking of the right one?” You answered slightly confused. You didn’t think this was a hard bounty in the slightest, you’ve had plenty of past jobs that were more difficult than this one. Maybe it was the higher price? Was it supposed to be difficult? You tilted your head at him your eyebrow raising, after hearing Karga boom out a laugh.

“Of course! How could I forget my favorite bounty hunters’ job?” He added causing you to shift in your seat. Straightening your back to make yourself feel bigger than he was, trying to gain the upper hand in this conversation again. You didn’t like where this conversation was going. The feeling of it was just…off. He never praised you this much.

“Well- one of my favorites at least.” He added slowly, winking at you in the process. You snorted shaking your head. You knew who he was talking about, and he knew it got under your skin.

“What the Mandalorian? Please, I could take all of his bounties times ten.” You said rather harshly, feeling the anger boiling in your chest. You hated that the Mandalorian was as good as you, maybe a little better…slightly. It was the stupid beskar helmet he wore, you assured yourself. Karga only chuckled slightly, probably having felt your rising anger.

“Hey, I am not doubting your abilities as a hunter. I can have more than one friend in the guild, can’t I?” He said almost too calmly for your liking. Feeling his energy in waves, he was…excited for something. His excitement felt like that of a child getting a new toy.

“What is this? What is going on? And why is every single guild member in here?” You snapped back at him tilting slightly forward in your seat to intimidate Karga. He was a decent man, but he was not your friend, and you didn’t trust anyone. Not in this business. Karga sighed heavily as he sank back into his seat. He opened his mouth to speak but then suddenly the energy in the room shifted drastically, similar to how it was when you walked into the cantina.

Hearing the door slide open, you and everyone else in the cantina turned towards it. The light was blinding momentarily before the silhouette of the Mandalorian was as clear as day as he walked slowly, so slowly down the stairs into the cantina. The ring of his boots could be heard bouncing off the walls as he scanned the room, like a predator stalking their prey. You could feel the hotness of the cantina grow as everyone’s energy shifted and turned as he walked. He made your lungs burn with how easily he could change the atmosphere of the room. Your nostrils were flaring as he made his way to your booth. I should have known, you said to yourself as you turned back around. Not giving him the pleasure of your gaze as he stood at the table.

“Mando! How nice of you to join us finally. Please sit!” Karga started as he held his hand out to the Mandalorian. Which he did not take, only nodding once. Such a signature move, you scoffed in your head. His helmet slowly turned towards you, his dark visor felt like it was digging a hole in your head as you stubbornly did not look up at him.

“I would but it seems as though there is someone in my way.” His dark voice echoed through the still silent cantina. Your glare slowly racked up his slightly beat-up red armor to the black visor of his shiny beskar helmet. If you were going to be honest, the Mandalorian was built like a kriffing monument, he was something else. He was strong, and he knew it. It gave him this type of strut in his walk, that you were kind of digging and hating at the same time. Giving him a small smirk, you stood up slowly. Extending your arm out to the booth.

“You go ahead and sit on the inside. Since I was here first.” You sneered up at him his helmet tilted down to you, his body caging you in trying to intimidate you. You’re sure it would have worked on others; it did not scare you. You knew that bounty hunters rarely ever sat caged inside of a booth, it made you vulnerable. Which is why you didn’t hesitate to jump on the opportunity to get under his skin.

He knew you despised him, but it didn’t bother him as much since he was not too fond of you either. When you first joined the guild, he thought he would never see you again after the day Karga announced you as a new member. Slowly, you started to gain the upper hand in both the ranks and in respect amongst the guild members. The unspoken competition ever since then had been deafening to him, he had to be better than you of all people, a fierce woman. However, the Mandalorian knew you were strong. You held your own and he, liked it.

He slowly moved to the booth, making sure to keep his visor on you as he sat down and moved to the inside. Allowing you to sit down finally once he was settled. You let out the air you were holding into a sigh, trying not to make it a groan of annoyance, you did not want to give the Mandalorian that type of satisfaction. The air in the cantina slowly settled down and went back to its previous state, now that the two deadliest bounty hunters were sitting down. Karga looked between the two of you beaming. He has something up his sleeve, you could feel it, and you did not like it.

“Mando, you got here a little earlier than I expected. I was going to break the plan to both of you separately before. Nevertheless, I have a job, and I want both of you to work together to obtain it.” You and the Mandalorian stilled in your seat, snapping your heads over to him. Was he serious? The grin that was stapled to his face said everything you needed to hear, of course he was serious.

“What?!” You and the Mandalorian screamed simultaneously, sounding like a blaster shot bouncing off the walls. No absolutely not, you heard a voice echo through the force. You knew who it was.

“I would rather take a Hutt to work with over her.” Mando interjected. The force was screaming at you. You felt every wave of anger, confusion, tension…and something else from the Mandalorian you could not make out. But it was hurting your head. Groaning, you turned and squinted towards the visor, hoping you were making direct eye contact under the black abyss.

“Oh please, like you’re some prize to work with as well. I have to trust you without looking into your real eyes. Who knows, maybe you’re some stupid looking droid under that shiny beskar.” You stabbed back, causing him to stand up abruptly. You stood with him a hand immediately going for your dagger.

“My friends! My friends, please sit. I have yet to discuss the terms. And besides, this job is the most difficult and high rewarding I have ever gotten! That should be enough to get you through this.” He added to hopefully ease some of the tension. You waited for Mando to sit down first, wanting to have the final jab in your little conversation as you sank back down into your seat, never taking your eyes off of him until Karga broke the silence.

“It is a group of people. Not just one bounty, but a whole gang. They’ve been plundering towns and stealing women ever since the Empire fell.” You tensed at the last part looking down at the table. You knew all too well what happens to women when they get stolen like that, from their own homes. You felt your chest tighten slowly so you closed your eyes trying not to let your emotions seep through them. The Mandalorian would probably use that against you later if he saw you.

The Mandalorian turned to you once your head turned down towards the table. His eyebrows knitted together, wondering why you were so distressed. You’re a bounty hunter, killing people is your job. He blinked a few times before looking back at Karga, so you wouldn’t see him looking at you once your eyes looked back up. You would probably use that against him later if you caught him staring. Karga continued.

“I couldn’t send just one of you to obtain them. With you being a woman,” Karga tilted his head towards you, “and you having beskar,” he tilts towards the Mandalorian, “It would be too much of a risk. So, the solution is to send both of my best bounty hunters on the job to watch each other’s backs and split the high reward.” He concluded.

You hated that it made sense. You could feel the Mandalorian coming to that same conclusion. You were both silent not wanting to be the first one to speak up.

“The asking price on their heads are 200,000 credits for the whole gang.” He smirked. Your eyes widened and you saw the Mandalorians back straighten. That’s, that’s a lot of credits. Even splitting it between the Mandalorian, it was enough to buy fuel for at least six months. It would hold you over with rations for at least a full cycle, and maybe even enough left over to get some new updates to your ship. Maybe this wasn’t too terrible.

“Where is this job?” Mando spoke as you felt the deep baritone rumble across your chest.

“Their gang has been hiding out in the Outer Rim ever since the Empire fell. Their last known sighting was on the planet Voss.” Karga answers making you huff.

Voss was an interesting planet. You’ve only been there a few times, but it was always…well all you can really say is don’t get mixed up with the wrong people. There were only two cultures present on the rocky planet. The first type of people known as the Gormak people, who are highly xenophobic and violent to visitors. Unfortunately, they make up most of the planets’ population, hence why you lean with caution, you always got hung up with those type of people. The other, lesser-populated culture on the planet, were called The Voss, hence where the planet gets its name. The Voss people welcome visitors to their mountain city called Voss-Ka which is located on an isolated island to stray away from the rather violent Gormak people. You have yet to visit there, but you’ve heard its quite beautiful. However, you knew of a certain area on that planet called The Nightmare Lands, that even the Gormak people don’t dare to go to. Hopefully, your bounties won’t either. These people, The Voss, are highly ritualistic you’ve heard, and they have an unusual capability with the Force. You know of some lost Jedi and Sith temples that have been spotted scattered across the vast planet. You hope that visiting here with the Mandalorian won’t give anything away about your gift with the Force as well.

“Where was the gang last seen on Voss? I hope we don’t run into the Gormak people there; they suck.” You chimed in causing Karga to chuckle slightly. You caught a glimpse of the Mandalorians head tilt slightly towards your direction. You felt the curiosity roll off of him in waves. He wondered why you ever went to the Outer Rim to obtain bounties, usually those places are lost causes and too dangerous. He felt slightly jealous that you knew of the place Karga was talking about, giving you an advantage over him.

“They were last seen in the city of Voss-Ka, but they were traveling out of it. They most likely went to a small village on the mainland instead of the island where Voss-Ka is. They thrive off of these small towns, so I am guessing they’ll be somewhere in that area.” Karga claimed making you sigh shaking your head.

“Tracking fobs?” Mando piped in. Karga took out one tracking fob causing you to frown. Why is there only one if it’s a whole gang? You thought to yourself. Your eyes looked over to the Mandalorian. Gods, you wish you could see how he was reacting under that stupid helmet. Reading people was second nature to you, maybe that’s why you were always so frustrated with the Mandalorian all the time. Thanking the Maker that you had the Force, you felt the conflict around him though and the uneasiness of the whole situation. Whether that be because he had to work alongside you or just the fact that there was one tracking fob, and not much of a lead on their actual whereabouts.

“There is only one tracking fob. But this gang always stays together, so where one is, they all will be.” You nodded along to his words as you and the Mandalorian both reached for the fob at the same time.

“Excuse me, but I think I’ll hold onto this.” You claimed while snatching it from the table, but in a flash the Mandalorian gripped your wrist. The leather of his gloves made the skin along your wrist sting slightly causing you to suck a breath in.

“I think I was the one who asked for it.” He grumbled taking it from your hand and stuffed it into his pack not allowing room for a peep of protest from you. Groaning you pulled your wrist from his death grip and rolled your sleeve back over the exposed skin.

“This should be fun.” You mumbled under your breath.

“So, it’s settled then?” Karga announces grinning, obviously ecstatic over the whole ordeal. Rolling your eyes and hearing the Mandalorian sigh you nodded.

“Yes, I believe so.” You claimed as you stood up from the booth waiting for the Mandalorian to follow your lead. You didn’t want to stay with a rather excited Karga longer than you had to and you needed to get out of this stupid cantina. Mando eventually got up and out of the inside of the booth. You both glanced at each other momentarily before turning away again. The Mandalorian already started walking away thankfully so all you had to see was his back and not the darkness of his visor. You rolled your eyes again and walked after him when he said nothing.

“I will see you when you get back. Good luck!” Karga shouted when you and Mando got to the door. Both of you nodded at the same time before walking out of the cantina. The air was crisp and didn’t smell of liquor anymore, much to your liking. You wondered if Mando could smell anything under the helmet, or if it took out smells he didn’t like. You caught up to walk next to Mando and fell into step with him. He had such a large stride it felt like you were jogging next to him, you hoped you didn’t look like an idiot. Looking down at his belt you almost snatched the stupid tracking fob from it. You decided against it though. Seeing that you two were to be partners for this job, you might as well try to not get on his bad side. Even though it was really fun to do.

“We’re taking separate ships.” Mando said slowly as you two walked out of the town where both of your ships were parked.

“Perfect, I didn’t want to be stuck on your ship anyways. It probably stinks.” You chuckled to yourself seeing him shake his head and sigh. He turned towards you as you both got to your ships, stopping for a minute. He looked down at you for a moment then back at your face as if he were studying you.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked suddenly making you frown.

“What?”

“The cloth is missing from your shoulder.” He says rather coldly. You looked down at your shoulder and mentally slapped yourself for not putting on another shirt when you got here.

“Oh, a bounty shot me in the shoulder today. No big deal I shot him in the chest.” You say rather bluntly. You looked back up at his visor, waiting for a response that obviously was not going to come. He only nodded and turned towards his ship, the Razor Crest. It was a piece of junk. Whenever you had the chance to look at it there was always something wrong with it, and not to mention the chipped paint that he seemed to just never fully get rid of. You didn’t know how he could operate something that big, you preferred a small ship to maneuver around more easily.

“I’m guessing the trip to Voss will take a few hours, most likely a night’s trip. I’ll see you when you get there. I’ll send you my com link before we take off.” Mando spoke on the ramp of his ship. You nodded as you walked up to your ship, heading inside once the ramp was down for you. After closing your ramp, you headed up to the cockpit, waiting for the com link Mando was sending you. Mando put all of his guns back into his armory and made his way up the ladder to the cockpit. Sitting in the pilots seat he secured a communication line for the two of you to use. He hesitated to press the button and send it to you, he doesn’t know exactly why though, there were a few reasons. For some odd reason he trusted you more than anyone in the guild because he knew that you were an honest hunter. He shook himself out of his thoughts and flipped the switch to send you the com link. After hearing the familiar beep, you pressed it.

“I got it. I’ll keep it saved as a safe line but I’m going to stay on mute until we get there.” You said rather quickly into the com, you did not want to make small talk right now. All you wanted was to get to hyperspace and sleep for a little while. You didn’t wait for his response before pressing the mute button and sinking comfortably in your seat.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian story #mando x reader #mandalorian x jedi #mandalorian x hunter #din djarin #story #slow burn #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #lightsaber

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

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OXYCONTIN OXYCODONE (HCI CONTROLLED RELEASE TABLETS)

—tim grabbed the bottle from the stash of medicines in his apartment, shakily pressing down on the lid to open the locking mechanism.

OT00367K 300514-0H WARNING: OxyContin is an opioid agonist and a Schedule II controlled substance with an abuse liability similar to morphine.

—because thank god alfred somehow managed to keep the batcave infirmary stocked with many different drugs and painkillers. tim remembered the money making people blink, the professional suppliers delivering to an unknown location, leslie turning a blind eye, going so far as to help them sometimes. it gave tim access to whatever he needed to take for his own apartment.

Oxcodone can be abused in a manner similar to other opioid agonists, legal or illicit. This should be considered when prescribing or dispensing OxyContin in situations where the physician or pharmacist is concerned about an increased risk of misuse, abuse, or diversion.

—leslie had glanced at him strange, so tim took her into the medbay and pulled up his sweatpants. the swollen, bruised colour of his ankle was striking against his pale skin. to her credit, leslie didn’t even wince, just used firm hands and warm fingers to examine the wound. tim had asked her not to tell anyone, and the injury was minimal enough for her to purse her lips and nod. she demanded a checkup in a week. with some negotiating, tim moved it up to a week and a half. “be careful with those,” leslie said, gesturing towards the painkillers. “of course,” tim responded easily.

OxyContin Tablets are a controlled-release oral formulation of oxycodone hydrochloride indicated for the management of moderate to severe pain when a continuous, around the clock analgesic is needed for an extended period of time.

—tim leaned against the wall of his bathroom, finally gripping the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it off. a myriad of colours greeted him, everything from mottled yellow to angry violet to the dark red of the blood flecked around the wound on his side. it was stupid, so stupid. damian had come out of that encounter fine, just a couple bruises to the forearms. tim, on the other hand, had to suffer a slice to the side with a knife, all because he’d hurt his ankle and ribs a day ago and hadn’t been able to flip out of the way in time. the pain had been unnoticeable yesterday, but today, it went past his entire body being on fire and instead felt like he’d been dipped in ice. tim was ready to claw his skin off his torso and fix his ribs himself, but he settled for tipping a couple pills into his palm.

OxyContin Tablets are NOT intended for use as a prn analgesic

—tim allowed himself a couple seconds, taking a few deep breaths, the way dick had taught him to push through the pain. then, pushing off the wall, tim stumbled into his bedroom. forgoing dinner, he shrugged his sweatshirt back on and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a hiss of pain when he landed on a bruise. he shuffled over to his favourite side, staying on top of the covers, moving his injured ankle into a somewhat comfortable position, and waited for the pills to kick in as he drifted off to sleep.

OxyContin 80 mg and 160 mg Tablets ARE FOR USE IN OPIOID-TOLERANT PATIENTS ONLY. These tablet strengths may cause fatal respiratory depression when administered to patients not previously exposed to opioids.

—when tim woke up the next day, it was hard to breathe. hypoventilation was nothing new with stronger painkillers, though, so tim groggily stood up and made his way into the bathroom. the bruises had darkened, and the wound was gaping. turned out tim’s initial assessment was wrong: he needed stitches after all. on the bright side, the pain wasn’t as bad today as it was yesterday. tim popped a couple more pills and took out his medkit.

OxyContin Tablets ARE TO BE SWALLOWED WHOLE AND ARE NOT TO BE BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED. TAKING BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED OxyConton Tablets LEADS TO RAPID RELEASE AND ABSORPTION OF A POTENTIALLY FATAL DOSE OF OXYCODONE.

—bruce needed his help with a black mask case, and he’d called jason in as well, because no one knew the villain like the former crime lord. but jason was also working a human trafficking case with dick, and while things were getting better, dick was still one of the people that routinely defied bruce’s authority, quieter than jason but much more intense. but damian had asked him personally to come (well, he’d said he wanted to show him how to groom alfred the cat, which was practically the same thing), and cass was visiting from hong kong. so, for probably a couple rare hours, everyone was going to be in the manor, and if alfred and cass had anything to say about it, peacefully. tim gathered the information he’d layed out, and made his way towards the manor.

Possible Side Effects of OxyContin include: Drowsiness and/or weakness,

—tim stopped in one of the sitting rooms in the manor, dropping onto the couch after feeling the ground sway underneath him. he probably needed to eat something. knowing what his family would say if anyone found him in this state, he used trembling hands to take his computer out of his backpack, and pull up some mindless case under the pretense of work. he forced his eyes open, letting the blue screen cut through his vision. he had a good night’s rest, so the last thing he needed was to sleep right now. besides, look at dick! the man could stay awake for days on end, or keep going for weeks on minimal sleep, never get slow or sloppy in the field with exhaustion, and kept a warm and welcoming smile on his face the entire time. the least tim could do was put his injury to the side and stay awake for the first few hours of the night, before everything delved into screaming matches and arguments.

dizziness that may be accompanied by a headache,

—tim could feel everybody staring at him. they were analyzing him, taking stock of his weaknesses, he just knew it. and he couldn’t blame them. he could barely keep his head propped up, sitting in front of the screen. he flinched every time a particularly sudden or loud sound cut through the air, making his brain scream and his face wince in pain. tim’s fingers were rubbing his temples, but the effect was laughable against the pounding in his ears, the pounding of his head. “tim,” bruce’s voice caught his attention, deep but not quite gentle. “why don’t you get some water, hm?” tim nodded, then went to stand up stumbling slightly and grabbing the chair for balance. bruce moved to steady him, but tim held a hand out to stop him. he was fine. the floor was moving, the walls were spinning, but he was fine. “just a little tired,” he waved off to bruce. “don’t worry. i’ll grab an energy drink or something later.”

nausea,

—jason’s brow was furrowed as tim forced another bite to his mouth. across the table, dick’s head tilted in question and he asked “i thought alfredo was your favourite?” tim’s smile didn’t feel all that forced when he brought it up, and he forced another bite past his lips. “i’m just not that hungry. i had a snack in the afternoon.” his stomach was rolling, clenching, sizing up and- “if you would like something light, master timothy, i’m sure we have some crackers and soup. you can eat the alfredo another time.” alfred really was too kind. tim’s hands were clenched around the fork, and it took everything he hand not to curl up on his stomach, to heave as he opened his mouth to say “no thanks alfie. i’m good.”

and vomiting,

—tim couldn’t take it anymore. he pushed his chair back and left the table, far more rudely than he’d ever been before, barring an argument at the dinner table, and raced upward, willing his uncooperative feet and busted ankle to cooperate no matter the dizziness. he could hear the confused cries of his family behind him, but ignored them. tim threw open the door to the bathroom, having the mind to close and lock it, before falling over the toilet, heaving up the little pasta he’d managed to force down. and when that was done, there came the fire. the pain in his stomach as he tried to throw up what wasn’t even in his stomach anymore and oh was that blood? that wasn’t a good sign.

among other side effects. For a complete list of all possible side affects, ask your doctor or pharmacist.

—there was pounding on the door, and tim heard dick’s voice calling out his name. “fuckin’ pick the lock!” jason’s voice was angry. of course it was angry, the one time his family hadn’t come to blows and tim had ruined it. couldn’t he have held it together for just a few more hours? suddenly, there was a loud crack. cass had kicked the door in. she leaped into the bathroom, immediately over to him, with dick hot at her heels. jason was leaning against the doorway, keeping damian or bruce from coming in.

Previous medical conditions, such as lung problems, head injury, liver or kindey problems, adrenal gland problems, convulsions or seizures, alcoholism, hallucinations or other severe mental problems, and past or present substance abuse or addiction may heighten the negative effects of the oxycodone.

—voices filtered into tim’s mind, but everything sounded like he was underwater. muffled, quiet. the quiet was nice. if only his headache could get with the program. there were hands on his shoulders, cupping his face. they were warm, and felt strong. he was safe. there was a part of him screaming, though. get up, open your eyes, stop being weak! stop being pathetic! the others could do so much more than you, so just stop acting like a victim and be useful for once! the voice was demanding, and tim tried to do just that, the dizziness had come back with a vengeance and the room was spinning. or maybe his vision was whiting out, because everything flared a bright, brilliant white before tim was plunged into darkness.

Pharmacist: dispense the attached Medication Guide to any patient taking OxyContin Tablets.

OT00367K 300514-0H

i don’t actually know how OxyContin works so all of this may be horribly wrong. this is just what the warning label said on a bottle i found in the medicine cabinet.

tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

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admiralbuttcheek · 3 years ago

Text

A Pox on Our Pilot (Sicktember 2021)

@sicktember 2021 Day 3: Chickenpox/Rash

Fandom: Top Gun (1986)

Characters: Maverick/Goose

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33667063

The first call came from Carole.

“Hey, honey, how are you?” Goose’s smile was audible.

Carole didn’t sound as happy. “I’m doing well, but it’s Bradley.” Goose’s smile faded. “You see-”

“What is it?” he asked, cutting off the rest of her sentence. She huffed a heavy sigh before continuing.

“He’s got chickenpox.”

Well… shit. Now it was Goose’s turn to sigh heavily, then turn away from the phone for dramatic effect. “How is he?”

“Oh, he’s right as rain. Itchy and all, but happy to be staying home from school watching cartoons all day.” The pilot chuckled. He’d had chickenpox as a kid too, and that’s exactly what he remembered: staying home, eating ice cream and reading comics. Not a bad couple of days.

“And you? You don’t have it, do you?” Goose couldn’t bear the thought of his wife and son, itchy and miserable and all alone, while he and Mav had the time of their lives in Miramar. Just a few days ago they’d come up to visit, which was nice.

“Not,” Carole hummed. “Not yet, anyway. I called his pediatrician, he said Bradley is contagious until all the spots go away. Apparently you can be contagious before they even show up.”

“Really? If you need anything, call your mom, okay? I’m sorry, babe, I wish I could be there to help.”

“Goose,” Carole soothed. “I can handle a little chickenpox. But you, stay safe out there, you hear me? No more crazy flyby’s with Maverick.” She giggled in good nature.

“I will,” Goose promised. “Take care, my love. Just a few more weeks.”

“You too, Goose. See you soon.”

When he got the second call, he knew who was on the other end. Maverick.

“Goose,” came the aviator’s croaky, washed-out voice. He sounded like hell.

“Say no more, Mav;” Goose replied. “I’m on my way.”

The front door was unlocked, which was perfect because Pete knew he didn’t have the strength to go open it. He woke up this morning with a pounding headache. When he trudged into the bathroom to get some Tylenol, a chance glance into the mirror showed him exactly why he felt so goddamn awful. Spots, hundreds of them, all over his face. When he looked down, they were all over his chest, too. Oh my God. As the sleepiness waned, the itchiness kicked in. It was downright unbearable. But moving his arms to scratch at them hurt; every joint simply ached.

He didn’t think twice before calling Goose.

“I’m glad you called, Mav,” the RIO said as he scrutinized the lump of blankets and spotty flesh on the couch. “You sounded like crap on the phone, and you look like crap in person.”

“I feel like crap, Goose,” Mav moaned. “Seriously, everything hurts. And itches.”

Goose reached a hand out to his pilot’s forehead to check for fever, but Maverick jerked away.

“Don’t, I’m contagious,” he croaked. Goose shrugged and reached forward anyway.

“I already had it, when I was in 3rd grade.” Maverick felt warmer to the touch than usual. Nick went to search for a thermometer. “Can’t believe you never had it,” he called back from the bathroom. He returned with a thermometer, giving it a vigorous shake before sticking it in Pete’s mouth.

“Got lucky, I suppose,” Maverick mumbled around the glass.

“Don’t forget, under the tongue,” Goose prompted.

Maverick rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Goose, I have been sick before.” The pilot scratched absent-mindedly at his bare, pockmarked chest.

He smirked. “You sure as hell don’t act like it. You’re a disaster, man.”

“No wonder they call you ‘Mother Goose,’” Mav retorted. “They should call you ‘Mother Hen.’”

Goose erupted into disproportionately hysterical laughter. “Good one!” He cawed. Taking some time to catch his breath, he sauntered into the kitchen. It was pretty bare; Maverick wasn’t exactly a five-star chef. All he could find was some instant coffee, a loaf of bread, some saltine crackers, and half a box of breakfast cereal. Not even a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. Shrugging, he grabbed the crackers and filled up a tall glass of water.

When he returned, Maverick had spit out the thermometer and was holding it up to the light.

“What’s the damage?” Goose asked.

“100 even. Not great, but not bad.” Maverick slumped back over, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He was shivering ever so slightly.

Goose held out the crackers. “Here. You should eat something.” Maverick shook his head, looking away.

“No. Feel too sick.”

“Sick like feverish sick, or sick like ‘gonna puke’ sick?” Goose probed.

The pilot gave a half-hearted shrug. “I dunno. Both, I guess.”

“Fine, but at least drink some water, okay dear?” Goose said in a wifely, mock-doting tone. Maverick snorted and looked at the glass like it was toxic, but accepted it and took a sip anyway.

“Do you have any calamine lotion?” Goose asked.

Mav’s brow furrowed. “Any what?”

“Calamine lotion,” Goose repeated. “Y’know, the pink stuff your mom would rub on you when you got into poison ivy. Looks like Pepto Bismol.” Maverick’s face remained blank, confused. “Seriously? Never got chickenpox, never got poison ivy… Did you even have a childhood, Mav?” Maverick smiled, then wrenched the blanket off to frantically itch his back. He cursed.

“Don’t scratch them,” Goose chastised softly. “That only makes it worse.”

“I wouldn’t scratch them,” Maverick began, voice strained with irritation. “If I wasn’t. So. Damned. ITCHY! God, can’t you give me something for this?”

“That’s what the calamine lotion was for.”

Maverick made an exasperated noise that broke into a weak cough.

“I have an idea,” Goose said. “Stay right there, I’ll be back in a sec.” He shuffled back towards the bathroom.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Maverick hissed, taking this opportunity to scratch more while his RIO was out of eyesight.

Thankfully, Maverick’s medicine cabinet was better stocked than his pantry. Sure, no calamine lotion, but he did have some Tylenol PM. Bingo. Goose shook out two pills and carried them back to the pilot, who was now itching so hard he looked near epileptic.

“Seriously, stop scratching, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Goose cooed. He held out the two pills. “Take these.” Maverick took them without even asking what they were. Goose explained anyway. “They’re Tylenol PM. In 20 minutes, you’ll be out cold. Can’t feel itchy if you’re sleeping.” He plopped down on the couch next to Pete.

“Thank God,” he whined. “Better living through chemistry, I guess.” He took another tentative sip of water, staring at the ground. “How did I even get chickenpox anyway? Nobody at TOPGUN is sick.”

Goose blanched. He gulped. “Yeah, about that…” Maverick glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “Bradley’s got it. He must’ve given it to you when he and Carole came to visit a few days ago.”

Maverick smoldered. He wanted nothing more than to smack Goose upside the head, but he loved his “nephew” (and his RIO) too much to lash out. Plus, he knew how much it meant to Goose to see his family. 5 weeks was a long time to be away from two people you love more than anything.

“Sorry.”

That apology was more than enough. “It’s fine. Is he doing okay? And Carole?”

“They’re both fine.” Goose fiddled with the corner of Maverick’s blanket. “I miss them.”

Maverick gave a long, slow blink. The medicine was starting to work. Everything had gone wonky, like a record played at the wrong speed. “I know you do, Goose. They miss you too.”

“Just a few more weeks,” the RIO whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. He lost himself briefly in memories, of his first dates with Carole, the day Bradley was born, his first steps. He’d been there for all of that; how many memories was he missing while he was here in Miramar, and his family… wasn’t?

Something landed on his shoulder, wrenching him from reminiscence. He turned to look at what it was. He saw short, dark, tousled hair. Maverick had finally passed out, with his head on his RIO’s shoulder no less. Goose reached over to tuck Maverick in more snugly. Even through the sleeve of his shirt, he could feel Maverick’s low-grade fever.

“Sleep tight, Mav,” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. The pilot hummed in response, already deep in dreams of jets and open skies.

#sicktember #sicktember 2021 #top gun

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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years ago

Text

Yours (Vampire!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @geekandbooknerd‘s Birthday Challenge. Happy Birthday, Hayley 💝

The prompt We are all someone’s monster (Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows) is in bold.

@bluearchersstuff - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖 It was the first time, it won’t be the last 😉

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Moodboard made by the talented @gearhead66 ♥️

Summary: You hate Halloween and of course you hate Halloween parties. But who’s this handsome guy who’s looking at you?

Warnings: not my best work, I’m sorry.

Words: 1821

You roll your eyes, sighing at your own stupidity. For the umpteenth time tonight, you're wondering what you were thinking about when you agreed to come. Of course, Sofia is your best friend, and she is the one who asked you to go with her.

Yet, you should have known better.

You dislike Halloween. Scratch that. You hate Halloween and everything about it with a passion. You hate dressing up. You hate cobwebs, fangs, zombies and skeletons. You even hate squash soup, and that's saying a lot!

But yeah, your friend can be convincing when she has a mind to be. And that's why you're here – almost against your will, so to speak – at Ben's house. Ben with whom Sofia slipped away over an hour ago. Probably upstairs. You don't even want to think about what they're doing right now.

Anyway, you're here, and that's all that matters…

The pounding music is too loud, the people too drunk, the place too crowded. If it wasn't for the handsome stranger who hasn't stopped looking at you since you showed up, you wouldn't be here anymore.

Nervously pulling and tugging on the little black dress borrowed from Sofia – oh no, not a simple black dress, a black dress with fucking skeleton print – you make up your mind and head toward the makeshift bar. You need a drink if you intend to stay. Something strong, possibly.

A 'Vampire Cocktail' in hand, you slowly cross the room. With every step, you can feel the stranger's gaze upon you; and you know with unsettling certainty that if you look back at him, he wouldn’t lower his eyes.

He was apparently alone, does not talk to anyone, or dance, and didn't look at anyone but you.

You should feel embarrassed, or even upset, but you aren’t. Knowing that his eyes are staring at you like that is surprisingly pleasant. And you can't help but feel hopelessly drawn to him, almost magnetically, or magically. Because strangely, wherever you are in the room, the man is there, never more than a few steps away from you.

The room may be dark, but you still can see the otherworldly blue of his eyes. You're entranced, fascinated, mesmerized.

Giving him a shy smile, you quickly avert your gaze, blushing. As you raise back your head, the man is gone, but when a gloved hand brushes against yours, you know it's his, without a doubt.

"Shall we go out?" He asks with a sultry voice that sends shivers down your spine. Even if he gives you a questioning look, his hand gesturing toward the large patio door, you know it's a rhetorical question. You don't have a choice and you don't mind it. The stranger wraps a strong arm around your waist, leading you toward the backyard.

You follow him willingly, almost obediently, a small smile playing on your lips. He leads you without saying a word, and as soon as the patio door closes behind you, the only sound you can hear is the thud of his cane on the gravel.

"Better here, right?" He takes a seat on a porch swing, inviting you to do the same.

"I have been dreaming of this moment for so long." His voice is hoarse as he slightly leans toward you, boldly resting a hand on your knee.

Confused, you want to ask him what he means. After all, you met for the first time less than two hours ago. But you don't get the chance, since he speaks again. "Very nice dress, by the way."

Scrutinizing you in the bright moonlight, he looks at you shamelessly, his gaze stopping first on your neck, then your cleavage, your breast and finally your fishnet stocking-clad thighs.

Intimidated, you blush and say the first thing that pops into your head. "Your… your Halloween costume is a piece of art. It's so… real…"

"My… what?" Quirking a brow, the man looks at you in disbelief.

"Your…," your shaky voice gives away your nervousness, "Your Dracula costume is… magnificent."

You're not lying. His clothing is stunning. From his three-piece suit – obviously made of luxury fabrics – to his silk cape of extremely high quality, everything suggests that his complete outfit is undoubtedly very expensive. As for his cane, you're willing to bet that its snake-shaped handle is made of… gold, no less. In any case, it's impressive and the handsome stranger makes a vampire truer than nature.

Visibly taken aback by your last assertion, the man just stares at you with wide eyes. It's as if what you just said didn't make sense to him. When an icy wind swirls suddenly around you and makes you shiver, he eventually speaks sternly, almost as he were scolding you, his jaw tight. "This is not a costume."

You're baffled, puzzled, confused. 'This is not a costume?' What does he mean?

"What… I don't… Wha–" You sputter, unable to gather your thoughts. Your heart hammering in your chest, you feel a knot growing in your stomach. Something feels wrong. Something feels very wrong.

His piercing blue eyes staring into yours, you want to avert your gaze, overwhelmed and slightly scared. But when he speaks again, it's with a velvet like voice that soothes you immediately, erasing your discomfort. "Shh… It's okay…" You wonder for a brief moment how someone can change their mood so quickly. You don't dwell on it though, because when he gives you a closed-lips smile, gentle and sweet, it melts your heart and you realize that, as if by magic, your fear is gone, replaced by desire and attraction.

What strange power does this man have over you?

Slowly, one finger at a time, the stranger takes off his gloves and places them on the swing next to him, while staring at you the whole time.

As he reaches out, his hand just inches from your face, you can't resist, and you don't want to. The pull is too powerful, the longing too strong. You want him to touch you. You need him to and so you lean forward, craving for his skin against yours.

But as soon as his fingers graze your cheek, you freeze, bemused and appalled.

They are cold. Abnormally cold. Ice-cold. Colder than… death. You swallow loudly and then get up hastily. "I… I sh… should… go…" You stammer, panic flooding your body. You want to run away but the man doesn't give you the chance as he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tight. " That would be extremely rude when we've only just met, don't you think?" His voice is a whisper, his tone soft but you know you don't really have a say, nor a choice.

Slowly getting up, he leans on his cane, wraps his free arm around your waist and draws you closer. He's so unnaturally strong, you can't even move as a cold wave washes over you. "I'll be gentle if you do as I say." He mumbles, his mouth against your ear.

Questions plague your mind suddenly. Why is he so pale? Why can't you feel his breath on your face? Why are his eyes bloodshot? Why didn't you notice anything earlier? You're terrified now, aware of the danger with absolute certainty.

"Who… Who are you?" You don't even know how you manage to babble those words. You feel weak and unsteady on your shaky legs. If it wasn't for his firm grip, you would certainly have fallen down by now.

"It's okay, Y/N…" He says once again, and you want to believe him, despite your fear, despite the… cold. A little voice in your head whispers that you never told him your name, but it doesn't matter, not when he's looking at you with so much tenderness.

What is he doing to you?

"I'm Ivar." His reassuring voice is gentle, as is his smile. "Ivar Ragnarsson." He doesn't say anything else but it's enough. That's all you need to know. You're relieved. He's Ivar. Of course. Who else – what else – could he be? You've been so silly. All those strange things… The cold, his eyes, his breathing – or his lack of – there is necessarily a pragmatic explanation for each of them. The truth is you don't care. He's Ivar. A handsome and very considerate stranger that you want to get to know better, and that's enough. Everything is fine. It's okay, he's right.

"Ivar…", you eventually repeat softly, and you love the way his name rolls off your tongue. Chuckling, you can feel yourself relaxing in his embrace. "You're going to think I'm dumb, you know? I wondered for a moment if you weren't a…", you gasp, feeling shy and embarrassed, but Ivar just looks at you, patiently waiting for you to carry on, and that's what you do. "… A vampire, you know. But obviously you're not. You're just a guy my age, with a fantastic Halloween costume, and it seems that I can't think properly, because who would think you're some kind of monster? That's insane, and I'm so sorry, and now I'm going to shut up because I'm pathetically rambling and if I continue I'm sure you won't want anything to do with me and that would be a shame because I– Oh my god, sorry!!" Covering your mouth with your hand, you blush as you realize what you were going to say. 'Because I'd love to kiss you, touch you, feel you…'

What is he doing to you?

Ivar keeps quiet, a semi-amused smile on his face. Eventually, he closes his eyes and then tilts his head back. "So, you thought I was a… how did you say?... a monster…" You can almost hear his grin.

"I know," you say shamefully, "that's stupid! You're allowed to laugh at me, you know? I won't get mad, really. I don't know what went through my head. A monster! What a ridiculous thought!!"

Ivar giggles while keeping his eyes shut. "Maybe not. You know what they say… We are all someone's monster…"

And then, he opens his eyes. And everything goes faster.

His eyes turn black. A feral growl escapes his lips. His smile is a predatory one.

You can clearly see his pointy fangs.

And you feel weirdly calm. You're not surprised, and you're ready. You need him, all of him.

"I don't know if it's true…", you don't recognize his voice, hoarse and raspy, but you don't mind, as you don't mind when he pushes your hair away, his teeth already grazing the delicate skin of your neck.

"However,” He mutters as you arch against him unwittingly, "there is one thing that I can say for certain. I'm definitely yours."

And right after that, sharp fangs piercing down into the flesh of your neck, a burning pain lances through you, fading soon into an aching pleasure. You release a gasp, bucking your hips.

"Please, unravel me, Ivar."

What did he do to you?

🛡⚔️🛡

@geekandbooknerd @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @inforapound

#hayley'sbirthday #ivar #ivar x reader #vampire!ivar #vampire ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfiction #ivar fanfic #ivar fic #ivar imagine #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #halloween is coming #so why not

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

Note

I concur. The last option is the best. Maybe a few headcanons or snippets on how Angeal got roped into being a Braincell again? (Bonus if he originally refuses the call because *cough* Genesis *cough* but still ends up bundling up Ardyn and giving him some calming tea while in complete denial)

Hmmmm finally up for rambling this ask so buckle up!

-Angeal has no desire to be anyone special. He has had a good childhood this time around, with two loving parents and no scientific experimentation whatsoever. His father is one of the gardeners for the Oracles themselves and Angeal is perfectly content to follow in those footsteps once his father retires. He hopes for a peaceful life and carefully hides his lingering guilt and trauma from another life under the mental carpet, and refuses to admit he still dreams of the people he failed (Sephiroth who he abandoned, Genesis who he couldn’t save, his mother who committed suicide because of her guilt at what he’d become, his son apprentice Zack whom he forced to kill him).

-He is befriended by the young Princess, who smiles at him and is content to talk for hours about the flowers and plants he helps maintain. She follows him around sometimes, both asking for advice and giving it impulsively, and even though she is just a child, she has an impressive green thumb and an even more impressive kind heart. He knows that everyone says the Princess is ... odd. And she is. She is too old for her skin sometimes, too wise and too silly by turns in the way only someone who has seen it all and come out the other side can be.

-Privately, Angeal thinks she might be like him. Someone who remembers another life. But he never asks. He never admits. It doesn’t matter anyway. They are both content in their respective new lives, there is no need to drag up ghosts.

-Then one day Fenestala Manor ... burns. A lot of people are killed. A lot more are terrified and grieving and angry. There are whispers of rebellion, of defiance, but none dare when the late Oracle’s children are within Niflheim’s grasp.

-Angeal (who now wears the name Theseus like a suit he refuses to admit doesn’t fit right) keeps his head down and makes no moves to step out of line. He played hero once and he became the monster instead. He will not make that mistake a second time. He does, however, try to make his garden a sanctuary for the poor Princess. He can’t imagine how she must feel, to lose her mother so young, to be held captive by her mother’s killers, to have a brother who rages and cries and pulls bitterly away because he cannot see that his sister is grieving, just in a different way.

-Then the Chancellor of Niflheim visits for the first time, and Angeal only knows because he spots the Princess leading the bemused, sharp-tongued man around the garden, smiling and gentle and welcoming, like she is speaking to an old friend and not one of the leaders of the nation holding her hostage. Angeal keeps his head down, but the Princess trusts him and seems to think he makes fine company for a princess and an enemy politician, and she drags him over to talk about the flower crown she is making their guest.

-The Chancellor smiles and verbally cuts open Angeal in only the most veiled, politest ways. It’s almost impressive, if it didn’t remind him too much of Genesis. So Angeal pretends to not notice and hopes the man goes away and never comes back.

-He goes away.

-He keeps coming back.

-And Angeal keeps finding them in his garden, the Princess and her dangerous, half-mad guest (and Angeal knows madness, he has seen it in faces of friends and mirrors alike, he knows what the Chancellor hides behind his flowery words and indulgent smiles it is not anything nice), and he keeps getting dragged into the conversation, and somewhere along the way he notices that it’s almost always raining on the days the Chancellor visits. A pleasant, faint sort of rain that is almost as nice to be out in as sunshine. If it’s not raining before he arrives, it is within the hour he appears, and it always leaves within the hour the Chancellor does. And that the rain itself whispers against his skin like magic, like the faintest, most persistent of cure spells that Angeal hasn’t felt since he woke up as Theseus.

-Its a coincidence until it’s not. It’s happenstance until Angeal spots the glimmers of something quieter and saner appearing in the man with each visit and flower crown and long, rainy day conversation with the young Oracle.

-It’s not his problem until he stumbles on the man in question vomiting his guts out behind the gardening shed while the Princess has briefly been called away by nervous servants who make up any excuse to keep her away from the Chancellor she seems set on befriending.

-And Angeal has no desire to take another self-destructive, sharp-tongued, venom-fanged, art-loving, idiot redhead under his wing, but he likes to think he isn’t a horrible person in this life, so he gently rescues the man’s hat before it can fall into the smoking black (???) bile and gently steers the man to the nearby plastic chair Angeal sits on when maintaining his tools. He steps into the shed and comes back out with the thermos of tea he was saving for his own lunch and gently pushes the cup into the man’s hands while gold eyes stare at him and toy with his murder (Angeal has seen this powerful man in a moment of weakness, if Angeal disappears in the next two weeks, he won’t die surprised).

-“You should drink,” Angeal tells him softly, “It will help your stomach settle.”

-“Oh will it now.” Ardyn Izunia drawls even as he takes a slow sip of the herbal blend and makes the tiniest face at the taste. They stay in silence for a while, with the Chancellor recovering his breath on the chair and Angeal debating what to do with the patch of very dead ground where black bile was moments ago and healthy grass had been long before that. In the end he covers it with a piece of old tarp and decides to brave the potential radioactive spot later. Once the man who apparently had that stuff inside him has calmed down and hopefully left.

-“You’re taking this very calmly,” Izunia drawls, and Angeal can feel the barbs on the other man’s tongue, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

-“You’re hardly the first man to get an upset stomach,” Angeal deflects calmly, “It’s perfectly normal.”

-A scoff that is startled enough to count as a genuine laugh, “Normal, he says.”

-Angeal ignores the question in there and instead turns around to look thoughtfully at the Chancellor. Without his hat to hide his face and his venomous smiles to discourage scrutiny the man looks ... exhausted. Rung dry. And very, very thin. Like he hasn’t eaten a good meal (or anything at all) in days.

-A workaholic maybe? Or something worse. The Princess is an Oracle after all, her duty will be to heal the sick of the otherwise incurable. It isn’t that much of a jump to say she could sense that Ardyn Izunia was sick and was trying to help even while untrained. Either way it’s not his problem. He’s just a gardener. He has no business interacting with this man beyond the times the Princess insists he does.

-He keeps telling himself that as he disappears back into his shed and comes out with another thermos, this one of soup (it’s a good thing it’s chilly weather, otherwise he would have brought a sandwich and that might be too hard for this man to stomach). He offers a cup of still warm soup to the Chancellor, who stares at it like he doesn’t remember what it is. Angeal keeps holding it out until the man takes it from him, “...You have no idea what is going on do you,” Izunia rasps as he sips almost experimentally on the soup.

-Angeal shrugs, “No. But you look like you could use a sit down, some tea, and some food, and my mother would kill me herself if I refused to share what I had with someone who might need it more.”

-A sneer and a flicker of something furious in gold eyes, “Pity then.”

-Angeal turns back from where he had been about to wander off and resume gardening, because he knows that tone and he knows where it leads and it hurts too much to walk away (this lifetime), “No.” He snaps and the Chancellor blinks in surprise at Angeal’s sudden fire. Angeal picks up the tools he needs for the next hour and says more quietly, “Kindness.”

-“Are they not the same thing?”

-Angeal thinks of a blinding smile from a boy in another life who didn’t know the darkness of the world and made it better in the process, of the Princess who welcomes a leader of the enemy into her home and gives him flowers like he is a long-lost friend. He thinks of another redhead who once said something very similar before the end. He dares to meet golden eyes again, “No,” he tells the Chancellor, “they aren’t. But you’re a smart man. I think you knew that already.”

-Ardyn Izunia stares at him and is, for once, speechless. Angeal turns and hurries away before he can give in to the urge to grab a spare picnic blanket out of the shed and drape it on the man’s shoulders.

-That man is dangerous. He is broken and mad and feral and good at hiding all those things which makes him even more dangerous than he otherwise would be. Angeal cannot (will not) get attached. Not again. He won’t fall into that trap. He isn’t a good friend for anyone, let alone a good moral compass or shoulder to cry on. He’ll just make things worse. He knows that.

-Yet somehow that doesn’t stop him from packing a thermos of soup whenever it starts to lightly rain, and passing out cups of it when the Princess and the Chancellor inevitably wander into his corner of the gardens.

-(And maybe, weeks later, Ardyn Izunia corners Angeal where the Princess cannot see and stares at him for a long time. Maybe Izunia’s face shifts and pales as black blood weeps from his eyes and mouth until he looks not like a man but like a ghoul from a nightmare. Maybe he smiles like a predator looking for a kill and asks “Theseus” if he is frightened. If he is horrified.)

-(Maybe Ardyn is left stunned when the simple gardener looks him in the eye and with painful, gentle honesty says no.)

-(”Why not? I am a monster. You should be afraid.” Ardyn growls, his Scourge on display, his monstrous nature bared for this strange, mild-mannered man to see. And he is stunned when the gardener gently touches his pale, purple-veined hands and guides him down to a familiar plastic chair, as he disappears into the shed and comes back with a familiar thermos of soup and presses the cup into his hands.)

-(He is left speechless when this gardener, this human, this mortal, foolish man, finally answers his question, “This,” the gardener taps one of Ardyn’s deathly pale hands, “doesn’t make you any more or less human, or more or less a monster than me.”)

-(“Then what does?” Ardyn asks in a whisper, not sure if he is curious or insulted or ... desperate.)

-(The gardener just smiles, and in the expression there is something unnervingly old and sad and knowing for someone who has not lived two thousand years and not seen his own humanity crumble before his eyes, “You’re a smart man, Chancellor” he hums, “you tell me.”)

-(And Ardyn finds that he is, once again, speechless.)

#SE asks #dreamer-under-the-moon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse #long post #i have many feelings about angeal in this verse apparently

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mrslittletall · 4 years ago

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Title: Warmth, Comfort and a Break Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Laurence the first Vicar/Ludwig the Holy Blade Word Count: 6.323 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32155129

Summary: When Laurence gets sick with a cold, Ludwig talks him into letting the sickness cure on its own instead of using the holy blood. Laurence isn't too happy about it... but agrees once he notices how long he didn't take a break anymore.

(Author's note: I am gifting this to RedFox because they asked me for a LauLu sickfic AGES ago and also gifted fics to me completely unprompted, which is so cute and I really wanted to give something back.)

When Laurence woke up this morning, he felt awful. A headache, a stuffed nose, a sore throat... and he was pretty sure he had a fever as well. All the classic symptoms of a common cold.

He had always gotten one without fail in his youth, not a single year had spared him, sometimes he even got them more than once a year, and because of his already poor health, it meant that he was suffering a lot under them, having to spend at least a week in bed waiting for his fever to go down.

Luckily, now that he had the Healing Blood, that wouldn't be a problem anymore. He could just get himself his morning blood ministration and would be as good as new, ready to start work for the day.

So Laurence got up, upsetting two or three cats that had slept on his bed, with the motion, and teetered over to his armchair, where he kept his personal blood ministration equipment for his room. It would be a bit difficult to set it up with his body feeling so weak, but he would manage. Just as he put the blood vial into the structure and was about to insert the needle into his arm, his door suddenly barged open.

“Laurence, what do you want for breakfast to- Wait, what are you doing?!”, Ludwig's voice boomed through Laurence' room and Laurence, having been startled by his boyfriend, just stood there with the needle still in hand, not moving until Ludwig had crossed the distance to him.

“Getting a blood ministration right in the morning? Laurence, we talked about this, you really need to tone down on the blood...” The disappointment in Ludwig's voice was unmistakable.

“I need it.”, Laurence said, his voice a mere croak. “I am sick, Ludwig. I got a fever.”

“Oh?”, Ludwig said and felt Laurence' forehead. “Indeed, you are burning up.”

“So will you let me have-”, Laurence started but got interrupted by Ludwig picking him up.

“Then let's get you to bed right away to take care of this sickness and make you feel better!”

Before Laurence could complain, he was stuffed back in bed, Mary curling herself up on his lap.

“Ludwig, what is the meaning of this?”, Laurence whisper-croaked, apparently his voice decided to fail him completely by now.

“You take too much of the blood.”, Ludwig said. “And you seem to simply have a cold. It won't do your body any good when you heal everything with the blood, it will stop knowing how to heal itself. Besides, when was the last time you took a break?”

“It hasn't been that long.”, Laurence said before breaking in a cough, noticing that Ludwig rubbed his back when it happened. “Ugh, I shouldn't talk too much.”, he croaked, though with a bit more voice. “Anyway, I only took a break...”

Laurence stopped when he had to think about when had been the last time he took a break. It wasn't that long ago, right? However, he was sure he had been able to swim during the last break and the weather in Yharnam very much was winter, with the city coated in a fine powder that looked like someone had poured sugar on the building's roofs.

“Alright, it has been a while.”, Laurence let himself fall back into the pillows and kneaded Mary's fur absentmindedly. While he certainly felt like he should take a break, he would like for it to be a break where he wasn't feeling like shit.

“See? Just stay in bed and let me take care of you.”, Ludwig said.

“What about the church hunters?”, Laurence murmured, trying to not overstrain his voice too much.

“They can live without me for a day or two.”, Ludwig said. Laurence frowned, for his sickness normally never went away before a week was over. However, the latest hunt had just been and they wouldn't need to call out another so soon. “Let's rather focus on what you need... you should drink enough.”, Ludwig eyed the jar of water on Laurence' night stand, “Yes, water is good, but tea would be better. I will send Florence in with some tea soon. You can drink it while I prepare your breakfast. Because you have a cold, a nice chicken broth should help you out.”

Ludwig got up and smiled at Laurence. “And I will make sure to make it extra salty for you.”

“Thank you...”, Laurence said, though he was pretty sure he wouldn't taste anything anyway. He watched as Ludwig left the room and then focussed again on kneading Mary's fur, the cat purring at the continued care. She was warm and soft and made him feel a tiny little bit better.

When he had been allowed to have a cat back on Byrgenwerth, he surely would have managed to get over all his sickness days with much more ease.

With nothing to do, not feeling super tired and having to wait for breakfast anyway, Laurence continued to run his hands through Mary's fur, until there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”, he said, figuring that it probably would be Florence, for Ludwig had told him he would send her with tea. Not much later, the door opened and Florence entered with a tablet filled with a tea can and a tea cup. “

“Vicar, Luwig told me you are feeling unwell?”, she asked as she walked over to his bed. “Oh dear, you look like you sport quite a fever.”, she added after taking one look at him.

“Unfortunately yes.”, Laurence replied, accepting the tea cup he gave him. The tea was still steaming which felt like a blessing on his stuffy nose.

“I brought you some sage tea.”, Florence put the tablet down on Laurence' night stand, putting the jar of water on top of it as well. “Though I wonder why you haven't cured your illness with the holy blood.”

“Ludwig told me that I shouldn't take it for just a little cold.”, Laurence said, taking a sip from the tea. For most people it would be far too hot, but he always liked to drink his tea as hot as possible.

“Understandable. Besides, you got into a habit to take far too much of the blood.”, Florence said. “Not that I can't understand it. There is quite a rush whenever I have it... it's so hard to control yourself sometimes. I am glad to see that you try to be better with it.”

Well... if Ludwig wouldn't have come in, Laurence very much would have taken the blood ministration. And even though he had promised Ludwig to not take one daily anymore, he still had done it in secret... he just... often didn't feel well when he didn't take the blood. There was this sense of longing which only vanished when he got a blood ministration.

Alright, maybe he really had a blood problem, but regardless, as long as Ludwig would mother him, he wouldn't be able to get one in anyway.

“Thank you for the tea, Florence.”, he instead said. “I assume you already cancelled all my appointments?”

“Not yet.”, Florence shot up. “Let me take care of it right away.”

“Cancel them for the whole week.”, Laurence said as she left, being sure that he would be stuck in bed for a while. Once Florence was gone, he sighed and continued to drink the tea. At least it was warm and made his throat feel a little bit better.

Laurence drank three cups of the tea and then planned to nap, only for his body to tell him he had failed to go to the bathroom after waking up and he didn't make it any better by drinking so much tea. While he very much didn't feel like walking all the way there, he was fighting a losing battle, so he pulled himself up, gave Mary a stroke with his hand and then walked towards the door, feeling a bit like one of the infected with how much his body was wobbling. Just as he had reached the door, it opened and Ludwig stood in front of him.

“Laurence, I brought your- What are you doing out of bed?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”, Laurence whispered, a total contrast to Ludwig's booming voice.

“Are you sure you are able to make it there on your own? You look like you could faint any given minute...” Ludwig entered the room and put the tablet he was carrying on the table while Laurence supported himself at the door frame, catching his breath. Before he could reply to Ludwig that he didn't have a choice, he felt himself being picked up.

“I will carry you there.”, Ludwig said, gently cradling Laurence in his arms, who turned a bit red in the face and it wasn't because of the fever.

“Ludwig... what if someone sees us like this...”, he murmured.

“Then I just tell them that I'll help our sick Vicar out.”, Ludwig beamed at him. “Now let's get you to the bathroom before we need to change your clothes.”

“It isn't that bad...”, Laurence murmured as Ludwig carried him to the nearest bathroom. Laurence half expected that he wanted to come in with him, but Ludwig waited outside until Laurence was finished and left the bathroom after having washed his hands.

“Now let's get you back to bed and feed you your soup.”, Ludwig said and picked Laurence back up again.

“Why are you talking to me like I am a small child?”, Laurence asked on their way back. Last time he checked, he had been an adult for almost fifteen years now.

“Old habits die hard.”, Ludwig replied. “I used to take care of my younger siblings and whenever they got sick, I talked to them like this because it made them feel better. They were more calm when they knew what would happen next.”

“Well, I am not five years old anymore.”, Laurence said, letting himself hang limp in Ludwig's arms. “Besides... I used to be sick a lot as a child, so I can't be surprised anyway...”

“I am not trying to talk down to you or anything.”, Ludwig said, opening the door to Laurence' room. “But if you feel uncomfortable with it, I'll stop.”

As Laurence got put back into his bed, he considered Ludwig's words... Actually, it was kind of comforting. “...You don't need to stop.”, he said and leaned against the backrest of his bed, fluffing up a few pillows while Ludwig prepares his breakfast. Even though he couldn't smell much, he could smell the soup, for Ludwig must have used some strong smelling herbs in it. Even the smell made him feel better... surely after the soup was inside of him, he would feel better as well.

After Ludwig poured the soup from the pot into a bowl, putting the lid on the pot again, he dunked a spoon in it and carried it over to Laurence' bed. There, he sat down and took the spoon himself, filling it and offering it to Laurence complete with the words: “Laurence, say aaaah.”

“That's getting too ridiculous, Ludwig.”, Laurence crossed his arms and cocked his head a tiny little bit. “I can eat on my own. How about you prevent the cats from annoying me while eating? They are already interested...”

It was true, Mick, Mary and Amy had come already to sniff at the bowl. Ludwig gave Laurence a sheepish smile. “I am sorry, Laurence.”, he said and handed him the bowl, then got up and scooped the three cats in his arms. “But tell me if you need help.”

“It's just a cold.”, Laurence said, adjusting the bowl on his lap and grabbing for the spoon with his left hand. “Like you said earlier. I won't need help eating. I just am too weak to take care of myself for a while...”

Thanks to his trip to the bathroom earlier, the soup had already cooled a bit, but Laurence didn't mind if it would have been hot. It was cold outside anyway and even though his body felt hot, he felt so cold from the inside, did he have the chills already? The warm soup was a blessing for his freezing body and his sore throat. Ludwig had kept his promise and put more salt into the soup, so that Laurence could taste quite a bit of it. It probably would be too salty for anyone else, even himself when he didn't have a cold, but for this exact moment, it was the right amount of salt. It helped to make the herbs stand out also.

While Laurence chewed on a piece of chicken meat, he looked at Ludwig, who had decided to entertain the cats with a game to distract them from the food. All three of them were hunting a long string, one that looked like it came directly from Ludwig's boot. On closer inspection, it really came from it.

“I have toys for them.”, Laurence said, his voice feeling much smoother thanks to the warm meal.

“I don't mind.”, Ludwig simply answered. “My shoelaces are sturdy. They can chew on it for a bit.”

Laurence shrugged and continued his meal. After he had emptied the bowl, Ludwig came over to take it and was in the process of filling it up again, but Laurence stopped him. “I can't eat that much when sick.”, he said. “I am already full.”

“Well, you ate more than usual.”, Ludwig gave Laurence a smile. “I will keep the rest warm for later then.”

“Yes, that would be the best...”, Laurence murmured. “I think I want to nap for a bit...” He already felt his eyes getting heavy.

“Then I will look after you later.”, Ludwig promised and Laurence heard how the door shut when his eyes ultimately fell shut and his body tried to sleep through the sickness.

Ludwig returned later to check up on Laurence... with a couple of Laurence' favourite books. While he would have liked to just sit down in his armchair and read them himself, his headache had returned and it didn't get better when a sneezing fit overtook him after waking, which turned into a coughing fit, leaving Laurence gasping for air while Ludwig rubbed his back.

After Laurence' body had calmed down, it still told him that he better move as little as possible and so he cuddled himself in the blankets of his bed while Ludwig read to him.

Ludwig wasn't a good reader at all. He was slow, stumbled over words and sometimes had to read the same sentence several times to deliver it right. In truth, Ludwig was terrible at reading, especially aloud and normally Laurence would have pulled his hair at this style of reading. Ludwig had once said to Laurence that it always looked to him that the words are missing letters or mixed up and that he really tried to not riddle his reports with too many mistakes. Laurence had to admit to himself one day that reading and writing just wasn't Ludwig's forte. Some of the spelling mistakes even were pretty hilarious.

While Laurence truly had trouble with Ludwig reading so slow and snatchy, he very much admired that his boyfriend took the trouble upon him to read to Laurence, even though Ludwig knew he wasn't good at it. It made Laurence' heart feel quite a bit warmer, even though he didn't even manage to get through one chapter in an hour.

“Maybe I should try a different book.”, Ludwig said after he finally got through chapter one of an adventure novel. He put the book aside and grabbed for another one. Laurence grabbed for the cup of tea on his night stand, for Florence must have brought new tea while he slept and it was nice and hot again, and waited for Ludwig to pick a book.

“How to pick up Fair Maidens.”, Ludwig read. “What a pretentious title... Let's see.. Chapter one... Oh dear, are you alright, Laurence?”

Laurence had spit his tea all over his blankets when Ludwig had picked up the book, because not only was this a book that Laurence absolutely hated, it had been Gehrman's favourite book. He had put it into his bookcase in his office one day... so that he would never forget... Ludwig must have grabbed it as well when he picked out Laurence' favourites.

“Sorry, Ludwig, I didn't want to scare you.”, Laurence said and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his pyjama. “That book... was Gehrman's favourite...”

Ludwig looked down at the book on his lap and realization flashed over his eyes. “Of... of course, I remember... he was always reading this book. His copy was in a much worse shape, that is why I didn't recognize it... I normally recognize books by their cover and not their title...”

That only further cemented Laurence' theory that Ludwig and letters had decided to be common enemies, but that wasn't the point here. The presence of the book was such a grim reminder of the fact that his friend had vanished... before Laurence could properly apologize to him.

“I am sorry, Laurence, I know he is a touchy subject for you. I will pick a different book to read, but first we should change your pyjamas and blankets. They are full of tea. Wait here, I get a wash cloth.”

“Of course...”, Laurence said, putting the cup of tea back on his night stand, staring at the book that Ludwig had so innocently picked out. Gehrman had been Laurence' usual care taker when he was sick, so many weeks spend on the couch in the little cottage he inhabited with his dad, so many days where he had held Laurence' hair out of the way when the latter puked out his guts (again), so many instances where Gehrman had picked him up and laid on a more comfortable surface when Laurence had passed out again, treating any wound that got inflicted during the fainting.

If he would still be there, would he step in his old caretaker role and make sure that Laurence felt better soon? Or would he just tell Laurence to get a blood ministration and call it a day? Laurence would never know, for he never had managed to locate Gehrman (not that he didn't try to find him once and again...)

Ludwig entered the room again with a wash cloth as well as a new cover for his blankets. Glad for the distraction, Laurence stumbled out of bed and let Ludwig take care of him, let himself undress and clean up where the tea had hit his skin and once he was in a new pyjama, he sat himself in his armchair with a woolen blanket that Florence had knitted for his birthday once and waited until Ludwig was done with changing the tea sodden cover.

It was a good thing that no cats had been present during this small slip-up or Laurence would have had a few scratches as well as result.

He looked down at his arms at this thought. For a cat owner having scratches was normal, it happened while they played or when they tried to climb on him or when he was a casualty when they fought. His arms were completely clean from any scratches or scars from them. Because of his daily usage of the blood... Laurence hadn't even noticed how dependent he had become on it...

“Alright, Laurence, you can get back into bed.”, Ludwig said. Laurence got up, shivering on the short way over to his bed and was more than glad when he could cuddle himself in the comfort of his feather blanket again. “Let me read another book to you...”

Much later that day, when the sun had long set and snow swirled outside the window, Laurence' cold had taken a turn for the worse and he just wanted to go to sleep and hope that it would be better the next day... if his cough would even let him sleep!

Ludwig had brought some more tea to soothe his throat. He also had asked if he should bring some cough medicine, but Laurence declined... he knew what was in these things and that would completely knock him out. Besides, because of the holy blood, Yharnam barely sold common medicine anymore, pretty much every clinic had switched over to blood ministrations (of course they were under church control) and the ones that didn't only saw very few patients.

An earlier version of Laurence may have felt guilty about this, but the Laurence that lived in the here and now was long over feeling pity for them.

Laurence tried to drink at least one cup of tea before he would settle down to sleep, which was difficult when his body got racked by coughs again and again. Finally, after what felt like hours, probably only had been ten minutes though, his throat stopped tickling for the moment and he felt ready to just lay himself down and pass out.

...Maybe he should have sent Ludwig to get the cough syrup...

Ludwig insisted on staying with Laurence for the night, so that he could take care of him immediately should something happen or should he need help. Laurence knew that Ludwig wouldn't change his mind, but he didn't allow Ludwig in his bed, for he didn't want for him to catch Laurence' cold. Ludwig probably would try to take care of Laurence despite being sick (and of course he wouldn't take the blood for such a minor illness), so Laurence didn't feel comfortable with getting his boyfriend sick as well.

Ludwig decided to sleep in Laurence' arm chair instead, putting the woollen blanket over himself, settling in, his black hair not in a ponytail but falling upon his shoulders, looking like black silk. Ludwig had such beautiful hair, that was what Laurence thought when he looked at him and then decided to close his own eyes to get his much needed rest.

When Laurence awoke it was still dark, still the middle of the night. He felt so hot... had his fever taken a turn for the worse? He certainly didn't feel well... laying in his bed, breathing heavily, interrupted by a few coughs occasionally. Laurence rolled from his back on his side and hoped that the awful feeling in his throat would go away and that his fever would calm down soon, when he had another feeling deep inside of him...

The blood. He felt like he needed the blood. He hadn't been able to take it during the day, for Ludwig wanted for him to stay clear of it for a while... but he couldn't do this, he felt himself shivering and it wasn't from the chills, he felt like his body would dissipate if he didn't put the blood inside of it right now, his breath was going quicker and he just needed to get up and get a blood vial... just a tiny one... just a little drop, that was all...

“Laurence, where are you going?”, Ludwig asked, making Laurence aware that he wasn't in his bed anymore but had started to walk towards his cupboard. Ludwig came over to Laurence and laid his hand on his forehead. “By the blood, you are burning up. You shouldn't walk away in the middle of the night with such a fever. If you need to go to the bathroom, I can help you out.”

Laurence shook his head, that had not been the issue. He wanted... he tried to get the blood, despite him promising to Ludwig to not take it... he really had a problem apparently...

“Felt hot. Wanted to get some cold water.”, he rasped out, his throat feeling like gravel.

“You get into bed right away and I get you a cool wash cloth.”, Ludwig said and led Laurence back to bed.

Laurence laid himself back down and pulled the blankets over him when Ludwig left. Now., his mind said to him. Now you can get a drop of blood. Ludwig will never know it.

Laurence didn't move. Instead, he focused his thoughts on the cat that slept with him and pet its fur. He didn't even notice which one it was, he just needed something, anything to distract him from this need.

When had Laurence gotten so dependent on the blood? He used to have a blood ministrant monthly, for he had to cure his chronic anemia. It turned into a bimonthly one, then a weekly and soon... soon he had done one daily, for it wasn't only the healing properties of the blood, but also the rush of it... it made him feel good, made him forget his troubles, put him on some high...

No wonder Ludwig was concerned about him. That surely wasn't healthy. Though, how should Laurence get rid of this awful feeling, the feeling that something was missing from his body, something that he desperately wanted to replace?

Just as the cat he had petted screamed in protest for he had struck his nails in it, Ludwig entered again and looked a bit confused at the offended ball of fur that left the room.

“Laurence, I brought a cool wash cloth.”, he said and laid it on Laurence' forehead. “That should help you cool down, so that you can go to sleep again.”

Ludwig wanted to leave and sit back down in the armchair, but he stopped when Laurence tugged at his sleeve.

“Ludwig? Could you read another book to me?”, he requested.

Ludwig gave Laurence a big smile. “Of course.”

Even though it took ages for Ludwig to get through the one chapter he wanted to read, even though he fell over every second sentence and had to double-check on every other word, it distracted Laurence from his need. He would just focus on Ludwig and his non existent reading skills and nothing else. Ludwig would help to keep him grounded.

He soon fell asleep again.

Of course Laurence wasn't healthy the next day. He never had managed to cure a cold in a day without the help of the old blood. The same could be said for the day after the next day. Ludwig continued to take care of him, by giving him food (still mostly warm soup or stew), reading to him, delivering the cats to him so that they could warm him and getting tea into his system, hoping that he could sweat and flush the sickness out.

On the fourth day, Laurence felt finally better, though now he had a different problem... now his nose wouldn't stop running and he pretty much had blown his nose with four different handkerchiefs now.

“How are you feeling, Laurence?”, Ludwig came in with his bright smile and put Laurence' tea on the nightstand. “Here is your new dose of tea. Drink plenty.”

“In a minute.”, Laurence replied, sniffling. “My stupid nose won't stop running... I think I need another handkerchief soon...” Just as Laurence had finished speaking, a sneeze happened. He held the handkerchief in front of him to catch the brunt of it, but the warmth on his face and the red on the handkerchief made it clear that his nose hadn't liked the constant blowing this morning at all. “Fuck.”, he growled.

“Woah, you got a nosebleed!”, Ludwig looked rather shocked while Laurence just sighed.

“And? That happens to me all the fucking time even unprompted. Rather give me a new handkerchief, it's all over my hands already...”

Indeed Laurence' battered nose had already bled through the already sodden handkerchief he had held and now the blood dripped all over his fingers and down on his pyjama. Ludwig handed him a new handkerchief which Laurence pressed against his nose where blood and snot intermingled. A fairly unpleasant sensation.

“At least all the snot gets out.”, Ludwig said as he steadied Laurence, making him hold his head slightly downwards, so that the nosebleed wouldn't clog his respiratory system and would hopefully stop soon.

“Could have done without the blood...”, Laurence said. “Wait, don't I have to pay into the swear jar?” He remembered the two swears that had slipped earlier.

“I wanted to give you a pass because you aren't feeling well.”, Ludwig said. “But for the next one when you are healthy you have to pay double.”

“What even is the point then?”, Laurence murmured, folding the handkerchief so that the bloody side would point away from him and catch the rest of the blood with the clean side.

“Once your nosebleed has stopped... I wanted to ask you away, would you like to take a bath?”, Ludwig asked as his hand went through Laurence' hair which made the latter extremely relaxed, forgetting to catch the nose bleed and bleed all over the blankets. “Ah sorry, I forgot that happened to you...”

“A bath sounds fine.”, Laurence replied. “I need to get one anyway, I have blood all over my face and hands...”

Not only that, Laurence hadn't got a proper bath for a few days now and he felt all sweaty and gross because of the fever. At least it had gone down today, even though it wasn't completely gone. Why were his colds always so persistent?

Ludwig helped him out of bed, but didn't carry him this time, for Laurence made it clear that he would like to walk on his own, now that he was better. Ludwig still laid a hand around his shoulder and walked with him towards the bathroom, the small little personal one, which housed a sink, a toilet and a bathtub, which was big enough for two people. Laurence unlocked it with his key and stepped in, Ludwig closely behind him.

“I already let the water heat up.”, Ludwig said. “It should be nice and hot, like you enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”, Laurence sat down on the closed toilet and waited while Ludwig filled the tub with water. While he waited, his nose started to run again, so he pressed his sleeve against it and wiped it. He would need to put on a new pyjama anyway.

While Laurence and Ludwig waited for the tub to fill, Ludwig organized a new pyjama for Laurence, locked the door behind him when he returned and got towels from the shelf in the bathroom ready. Once the tub was completely filled, Laurence got up and fumbled with the buttons on his pyjama. Ludwig was over in an instance and helped him undress. Once Laurence was completely naked, he entered the bathtub and sighed when the warmth, heat even, engulfed his body and soothed his aching nose and chest.

Laurence didn't expect for Ludwig to get into the tub with him, so a surprised noise escaped him when his boyfriend entered as well.

“How can you sit in this heat without batting an eye?”, Ludwig asked, fanning himself with his hand. It seemed to be a little too hot for him.

“Because I love the heat.”, he replied and leaned himself against Ludwig's large frame, closing his eyes when he felt his boyfriend's embrace. He could stay in the hot water like this forever...

However, Ludwig didn't let him enjoy the moment for eternity, for Laurence had to get cleaned up, especially the blood that was still smeared over his hands and chest. The water hadn't managed to get rid of everything, for it already had crusted and was now caked over his body.

Though, it was very nice to get washed by Ludwig as well. Ludwig didn't talk much, just sometimes prompted Laurence to give him a certain limb or move in a certain way. He was gentle and with each stroke of the wash cloth, Laurence felt cleaner and a lot better, watching as the red streaks of his blood appeared in the water before fading and settling at the ground. While it felt a bit weird basically sitting in his own blood, there was so much water in the tub, it was diluted enough.

After Ludwig was done with cleaning up Laurence, he got his earlier wish fulfilled and was allowed to just sit in the bathtub, leaning his head against Ludwig's chest and get his hair stroked by the man he loved. Only shortly before they had to leave the tub did Ludwig intervene again, by washing Laurence' hair.

It had been so relaxing that Laurence even forgot about his cold while in the warm water, but once he was out, heavily shivering because of the cold air, he got reminded about it. Ludwig wrapped him in a towel immediately and helped to dry Laurence' body and hair, then helped him into the fresh pyjama he had brought.

“Stupid cold.”, Laurence murmured. “When will it finally leave me in peace?”

“Soon probably.”, Ludwig said as he let Laurence back to his room. “You look a lot better already. And this was all your own body and not the blood. Besides, you finally took a break again, so I am not exactly mad at your illness...”

“It is nice to spend so much time with you...”, Laurence had to admit. He was really working too much. He should make sure to take at least one day off each week to spend with Ludwig entirely.

After Laurence was tucked in bed again, Ludwig left to prepare his meal. Expecting some more stew or soup, Laurence poured himself another cup of tea and entertained the cats that gathered around his bed with a string that was knotted to a wooden stick. They surely had fun with this game, even though two of them had a little quarrel when they hit each other instead of the string.

All three of the cats present turned and ran towards the door though when Ludwig returned. “Woah, you guys better get out.”, Ludwig said and pretty much banished the cats from Laurence' room, blocking the cat door as well. “Or they won't let you eat in peace.”

Laurence' ever running nose was a blessing when it came to the food, because for once he could actually smell it and it smelled so good, his mouth actually started to water.

“I thought you must be tired of stew or soup.”, Ludwig smiled. “And since you feel better today, I made you another dish. Baked salmon with mashed potatoes and peas on the side, all topped off with a sauce hollandaise. Enjoy.”

“Thank you, Ludwig.”, Laurence said as he dug in, amazed at how well he could taste again and that Ludwig had put the exact right amount of salt he liked into the dish. It was truly wonderful and made him feel a lot better.

Laurence mostly took a nap for the rest of the day until Ludwig came back to him. With him feeling better, Ludwig decided to come into bed with Laurence and join him while Laurence read one of his books, being well enough again to read on his own.

Laurence smiled as Ludwig cuddled against him, soon falling asleep probably from the exhaustion of taking care of Laurence and having to keep up his job. Laurence purged the light not much later and decided to sleep as well.

Three days later Laurence woke up and didn't feel sick at all anymore. He checked his forehead and he surely had no fever anymore, he didn't feel the need to cough and while his nose felt sensitive, it was neither stuffed nor running without pause.

He got out of bed and walked over to his wardrobe, putting on his usual church robes. No sense laying in bed anymore, he could get back to work.

As Laurence put the church robe on, he noticed something in its pocket. He felt for it and found a blood vial. He held it between his fingers and stared at it.

He... wasn't sick anymore, so he wouldn't need it anyway... but... hadn't he been off the blood long enough for now? Though, should he take so much of the blood anyway?

Maybe later, Laurence decided, putting the blood vial back into the pocket. He had survived without daily blood ministrations in the past, he had survived this week. Maybe he should try and really tone down on the blood... even though he didn't feel strong enough to put that particular blood vial into his desk and lock the drawer with the key.

The door opened and Ludwig came in: “Laurence, what do you want for breakfast today? Oh, do you feel better?”

“Loads.”, Laurence answered. “I will get back to work today.”

“That's great.”, Ludwig came over and ruffled his hair, making Laurence melt in his touch. “See, it was just a cold, you did survive it, even without the blood.”

Laurence winced at the mention of the blood, thinking about that blood vial he would carry around with him. Time for an experiment... if he would manage to go a whole day without using it, he would consider it a success. For now, though...

“But I still would like that breakfast of yours.”, he said. “Can you make me a rice omelette?”

“Gladly.”, Ludwig said and left the room, leaving Laurence' alone, who sat down on a chair and felt the blood vial in his pocket.

“Only one day...”, he said to himself, hoping that he wouldn't fail. (Author's notes: Spoilers, he fails.

Ludwig has so much trouble reading because he is dyslexic, they just don't have a word for it in Yharnam.

If you want to know more about Laurence' cat, check out my “The Crazy Cat Vicar” fic.

The cough medicine is a reference to the Victorian cough syrup which is filled with alcohol, cocaine and other drugs.

I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me a comment with your thoughts.)

#bloodborne #fanfiction #laurence the first vicar #ludwig the holy blade #LauLu #HolyVicar #SickFic #Common Cold #Fluff and Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Laurence has addiction troubles #Ludwig is dyslexic #littlewritesstuff

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