#respiratory weakness

[blue-genes]

I have covid :(

This is why I don't interact with people.

[rindreamery]

perhaps postponing writing again because there are four major fires going on where i live, and i have become sick from the air quality 🫡

(not in an evac zone, thankfully)

[gilgamesh-enjoyer]

.

[salmonentrees]

I am no longer dying I think… only took like a month to go from ‘coughing so intensely I’m throwing every 20 mins and most of what I’m coughing up is handfuls of blood’ to ‘only sometimes coughing, mostly not blood.’ improvement!!! I have so much I need to catch up on. but now hopefully I can

[directsellingnow]

Immunity booster Herbs: कमजोर प्रतिरक्षा से हैं परेशान? इन 6 जड़ी-बूटियों से पाएं राहत

Immunity booster Herbs: आजकल की अनियमित जीवनशैली, असंतुलित आहार, और तनाव के कारण हमारी इम्यूनिटी (Immunity) कमजोर हो सकती है। इम्यून सिस्टम कमजोर होने से शरीर विभिन्न बीमारियों और संक्रमणों का शिकार हो सकता है। एक मजबूत इम्यून सिस्टम न सिर्फ सर्दी जुकाम जैसी साधारण बीमारियों से सुरक्षा करता है, बल्कि कैंसर जैसी गंभीर बीमारियों से लड़ने में भी मदद करता है। ऐसे में, आयुर्वेदिक जड़ी-बूटियाँ…

[juice-enjoyer]

im working on requests!!!!!! i legit got covid (first time :'|) and it's hitting me really hard so i haven't had a lot of energy, but i'm having fun chipping away at them when i can :)

[soft-girl-musings]

😃 my parents just got home from visiting the grandkids and my mom has COVID 😃

i will proceed to hide in the ol' bedroom bye

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

[genderless-naper]

healing hearts

trafalgar law x gf!reader

↳ requested, sfw, fluff!

wc: 2.2k, lowercase intended!

after exploring a new island law finds himself having to care for you due to your weak immune system

⇣ credits to the original artist

the island the submarine docked at had a bustling town that was ready to be explored by the heart pirates. you followed your crew mates as they venture through the different stalls and try exotic foods. the overflowing of the townspeople caused you to lose track of your crewmate. you didn’t worry much, and decided to use this opportunity to do some solo exploration.

you talked with some vendors, played with some kids, fed the stray cats, and so much more. at the end of the day you met up with your once lost crew mates at the docked submarine. you all chatted and exchanged experiences regarding the now explored town. you found yourself engulfed in all the fun stories being told, and you hadn’t realized you had started coughing.

the cough wasn’t horrible. it was light enough to be brushed off without a second thought. the only person which the cough raised concerned for was your captain, and beloved significant other. he recognized the patterns of what he called your ‘weak immune system’. it would always play out the same; you go exploring a new area, you meet people and try new things, you seem fine during the moment, but then come down with some of the worst ailment law has seen.

just as he predicted you spent your night in a mess. your cough would become so aggressive it would jolt you both out of your sleep realms. your sneezes would fill the bed with used tissues. an extra bin was readily placed on the floor next to the bed in the situation where you might’ve a bad case of food poisoning and had to throw up. law always prepares supplies the nights he expects you to need them.

this wasn’t the first time your weakened immune system caused law to have to play personal doctor. these strange occurrences leave law to work overtime to be able to cater to your road towards a healthier reality for you. it was natural for him, and be wouldn’t want any other person to be the one to care for you. he made sure he was the only person in attendance to help during these times.

he rubbed your back as you blew into a tissue, “bad night huh? you need to drink some water y/n-ya.”

you blew one last time before responding in a slight raspy voice, “i cant drink anything. my throat hurts too much…”

you attempted to throw the used tissue into the trash, but ultimately missing causing you to sigh in frustration. law sits up in bed and rubs the sleepiness out his eyes. he uses his devil fruit abilities to move the tissues into the trashcan.

he got up to retrieve his kikoku in order to assess your symptoms correctly. he made his way back as he ordered you to lay down and get comfortable. he called out ‘scan’ as he hovered the kikoku back and fourth over your body. once he’s finished he put it away, “it isn’t horrible. it’s just some respiratory virus. were you near anything that could have caused it?”

“i don’t know.”

law didn’t expect you to know the exact cause for your ailment, “it’ll be okay. nonetheless it will take a week or so for you to feel better. maybe this might finally strengthen your immune sy-“

you interrupted the tattooed man as you started to cough up a storm again. law mentally accepted the fact that he would be quite busy for the next week.

throughout the week your symptoms seem to worsen. they would especially peak during the night. law could easily recognize the moments when you were unnaturally out of breath, had a runny nose, slightly puffy eyes, and especially when you’d sleep for hours on end daily. he pitied you because of how susceptible you were to getting sick. when the day for chores came around you protested against the man to let you out of bed, “i need to get my chores done! they’re my responsibility law.”

“i’ll have penguin and shachi complete them.”

you continue to object, “i’m not gonna drag other people into my messes. i’m gonna do them myself.” you tried your best to get out of bed, but in the end your struggles were meaningless. law sat right next to your laying position in bed, and gently rested an arm on your stomach to keep you down.

“you can’t finish your chores if you can barely get up yourself baby. i know you want to help, but as your doctor i need you to focus on getting better first.”

you huffed and shook your head to refuse.

law gave you a look which made you stop your antics. it was an earnest look which alerted you of his serious character, “you need to recover, not do irrelevant chores. you don’t listen to what i say.”

law was tempted to use his authority to command you to listen. the only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to create a power imbalance between you both. he wanted to show you that he really did care for you instead of just forcing you to listen to what he has to say.

he leans down to your laying position and kissed your hair hoping it will lower your walls, “just let me take care of you y/n-ya”

“but i don’t wanna distract you from your work.”

he shook his head, “it’s not a distraction if it means i get to help you feel better.” he thought of a way to finally convince you, “don’t you always say i work too hard? well i’m taking a break to be with you while you’re sick.”

his logic was too good for you to fight against this time. as you tried your best to find a way to fight back law’s reasoning until a knocking came from the door. you both avert your attention to the door opening.

penguin and bepo poke their heads in. bepo speaks up, “captain! y/n! we were looking all over for you.”

penguin nods, “we’re planning ikakku’s surprise birthday party that’s tonight! you guys have to to make sure you’re there.”

law shook his head and spoke in a protective voice, “y/n is sick. she isn’t leaving from here. the submarine is too cold for her.”

both penguin and bepo whine to the captains response. you pout as you sit up. you gave look a law that could break his heart. it was the saddest puppy eyes he had ever seen you pull.

“but i wanna go to the birthday party…”

law had to stay firm in his decision, “i know you want to go, but we have to focus on you getting better.”

you tried to compromise knowing it would be the only thing to get the logical man to budge, “i’ll bundle up! and i wont have anything that could make me feel more sick! please please please law!”

your pleads were followed by penguin and bepo’s pleads as well. your begs fill the room until the tattooed man’s patience wears thin and he agrees, “you can only go if you’re with me all times. i need to make sure you don’t do something dumb to worsen your symptoms.”

as opposed to the idea as he might’ve seemed law wasn’t that against it. he wanted to make the environment you’re in as comfortable as it could be. that was a difficult task to do on his own since hospitality wasn’t exactly his strength. he figured being with the crew could lift your spirits.

you found the party fun even though your symptoms held you back from doing a lot of things. you couldn’t dance or sing with the members. you had to stay seated on law’s lap as everyone enjoyed themselves. the agreement you two made let law run wild on layering you up. when you questioned why you had to wear 4 pairs of socks he simply stated that he was not taking any chances of the symptoms intensifying. nonetheless you were grateful he cared enough, and agreed to let you have fun during this frustrating time.

your coughing continued their violent attacks. law was next to you during every battle you had against your symptoms. eventually you decided to try to move away from him in fear of infecting him as well.

he immediately pulled you back to him and holds you tight, “what are you doing? we had an agreement y/n-ya. you said you’d be with me the whole time.”

guilt was written all over your face, “i know but..”

“but what? what’s wrong? is something bothering you my love?”

you exhaled, “i just don’t wan’t you to get sick..”

law had to push away a chuckle that threatened to escape him, “not everyone gets sick as easily as you do.”

“hey! that was so backhanded law!” you felt your cheeks redden as the man next to you lets out a murmured laugh.

you crossed your arms and face away from him pretending to be mad, “you’re so rude law. is this how you treat your sick girlfriend??”

you hadn’t noticed a hat being placed on your head. you looked back at law slightly confused just to see law’s ruffled hair without his hat on. you felt the soft plush cover your head, and the brim of the cap hovering over your eyes. the hat looked oversized on you, so law adjusted it to help you see better, “your ears were red. we forgot to cover them up with the rest of you.”

law examined you now fully covered from head to toe (quiet literally). he was proud to see you like this. proud that he was the reason why you were being cared for. he was glad to be the one there for you when you needed it the most. he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he couldn’t care for you. it was moments like these he was thankful he committed himself to the research of medicine, and could be the one to care for his loved ones when they need it most.

he pressed a gentle kiss to your still reddened cheek, “hopefully you’ll feel a lot better by tomorrow my sick rabbit”

you giggle at his sudden affection, “sick rabbit? whats that supposed to mean?”

“your nose is red like one. it’s from all that wiping with those tissues.”

you giggled again and rested your body against your boyfriend thankful for the fact that he’s always caring for you.

at that moment you hear the members decide they birthday cake is about to be cut. everyone gathers around ikakku as she cuts the cake with ease. plates of cake were soon being passed around to celebrate. bepo makes his way over to you and law sitting out the way. he held two plates of cake, “i got you guys cake! it’s ice cream cake. we got it from the last island.”

you reach your hand out to take it until law speaks out, “you can have them bepo. ice cream won’t be good for her.”

you were upset, but knew not to argue against law. he was already agreeing to let you do so much when you should be resting in bed. you didn’t want to push his boundaries. disappointment painted your face as the mink rejoins the others taking the rejected cakes along with him.

law senses the shift in your demeanor. he knew he had to stick with his decision, but he couldn’t help to feel bad for you, “i’m sorry y/n. it’s just not the time to have ice cream cakes.”

you hummed quietly, “i know law..”

your shoulders visibly slump as you watched the crew rave about how great the cake is.

the guilt really pulled at law’s heart strings. he didn’t want you to feel left out because of things you couldn’t control. in that moment a lightbulb idea pops into law’s mind, “i’ll be right back baby. wait here for me.”

you were confused as you watched the tattooed man make his away out the room. nonetheless your attention averted back to the crew celebrating and having fun. you continued to eye the cake for a while until law suddenly appears next to you. you figured it was the work of his devil fruit and didn’t question it.

he handed you a mug. you looked at the contents of it. the warmth of the contents emitted steam from the surface which carried a thick chocolate smell. law sits back down in his original position, and pulls you to his lap, “it’s hot cocoa. i know it’s not what you wanted like ice cream cake, but it is warm at least.”

a smile crept onto your lips. although law would prefer you to take something more natural, such as some herbal tea, he knew that you just wanted a treat. sometimes he had the fight the doctor logic in him. he could tell that you’ve been feeling generally disconnected from the crew due to your constant illnesses. if having a treat that wasn’t the best suited for your conditions meant you could find that connection again, then law figured having to take care of you a little longer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. he would do it as many times as he needed to as long as it was for you.

[peachbibi]

the one in which you got sick and Spencer took care of you

genre: pure unadultareted fluff

warnings: nope

a/n: i was very sick for a couple of days and that was one of my fever dreams

Was it the crop top you wore in the middle of January when you went to an art gallery with Spencer? Was it the rain that caught you by surprise and left you all soaked and shivering? Or was it the window you left open after the shower before going to bed? 

Frankly enough, you will never know. You do know that you’ve been feverish all night coughing your lungs out. Unfortunately, Spencer has been gone on the case for the last four days and you have no idea when he is coming back.

You rummage through the cupboards helplessly looking for medicine. A fruitless attempt since Spencer has a system you are not aware of. He always took care of you and it never crossed your mind to figure out where was the help coming from. It is your second year of living together and you are taking your time to figure it all out.

You give up. You are sweaty and dizzy and can’t stand on your feet for too long. As you crawl back into your bed, every muscle in your weak body starts shivering. You pull the thick duvet over your head and force yourself to fall asleep. Sleeping helps right? You are not a doctor and your limbs and eyes are too tired to google home remedies – sleep must do for now. The pillow smells like Spencer and you imagine him being in the bed with you.

A sound coming from the living room wakes you up. You slowly flutter your eyes open and do your best to sit up. The room is dark and only the street lights help your vision. Your head is heavy and it takes you a minute to realise that Spencer is here.

Spencer is here. He is standing in the doorway and you are sick and sweaty and wearing nothing but his old Caltech t-shirt and your underwear. His big brown eyes are searching your face before he drops his duffel bag to the floor and crouches next to your bed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His big hand is like a compress on your burning forehead. You moan something in response. You hate how gorgeous he looks after a long way home.

“You should have called me. Or-or texted me. Anything! God, you are burning.” His big hand gently pushes you to lie back down.

“You should stay in bed. I take it you didn’t take any medicine”

You mumble something incoherent back. Spencers huffs and quickly disappears from your line of vision. You miss him. Tears burn your eyes because you already miss him so much. You close your eyes for a second and when you open them again he is back. There is something cool and soft pressed to your forehead. Spencer is holding a bowl of something that smells like chicken soup.

“Dearest, you need to eat something before taking any pills.”

He helps you to sit up straight and moves your hair out of your face. You sip on the chicken soup that taste like heaven.

“I made you some ginger tea with lemon and honey. And don’t scrunch your nose at me like that. I know you hate ginger but it will help to reduce inflammation and ease swelling in the respiratory tract.”

You set the empty soup bowl aside and started sipping on the tea Spencer made for you. His eyes are taking in your fragile state. You want to hug him and kiss him and take him to bed with you as if he is your teddy bear but – whether it is your weak body or you successfully fought the urge to do so – you don’t. You can’t risk getting your boy-genius sick as well.

“Take these pills and get some rest”

He offeres you two yellow tablets and you wash them down with a glass of warm water. Spencer tucks you in and kisses your forehead.

“Dont..” your voice thin and croaky.

“You will get sick” you cough as you try to explain yourself.

Spencer smiles softly and kisses you again.

“I have been in this room for more than three hours and I definitely inhaled millions of your germs. Kissing your forehead will hardly change anything now”

You cough again as you apologise.

“Please don’t. I just want you to get better. Get some rest”

With that Spencer leaves the room. Through the night you have woken up by your boyfriend who was trying to measure your temperature and make you take some medicine. Fortunately, his efforts paid off because you wake up feeling much better. Obviously, you are still sick and coughing but you can move your body without feeling like a puppet on strings.

“I’m glad you are better” Spencer smiles when you find him sitting on the edge of your bed. His hair is ruffled and he looks so homey and warm in his cotton pyjamas and glasses on.

“You should have some breakfast. I can make porridge”

He stands up but you pull him by the hand. Spencer almost falls on top of you which makes him giggle a little bit.

“I want to shower first”

He lookes at you for a second before he gives a nod with a sheepish smile

“Great, I will help you shower. A hot shower can generally provide comfort by relaxing your muscles and the steam can help soothe irritated airways and moisturize your throat and nasal passages-”

“Spencer, I am sweaty and I smell. I am so disgusting right now. I don’t think it’s a good idea”

You interrupt him all embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, you are not disgusting. There is no universe in which I find you disgusting. Plus, I don’t want to risk you passing out or slipping in the shower while you are still very sick”

He pulls you up from the bed. The sun paints his locks golden when he places his hands on your waist. Spencer smiles at you widely and nuzzles into your neck. You squeak as you try to recoil.

“You are disgusting” you joked

“Maybe I am. So, what? Shower or breakfast?”

“I will let you shower with me if you make pancakes instead”

You give him your puppy eyes and Spencer laughs

“Deal”

He kisses the tip of your nose and leads you to the bathroom by your waist.

[sinsofnivan]

LISTEN LISTEN-

hear me out

what if you got chased by mutated!Krauser only for him to corner you? 😳

ENSNARED. — JACK KRAUSER x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: you're a researcher hired by wesker, tasked to dissect major jack krauser's corpse and study the plaga in it. but a corpse isn't warm, or have a functional heart and respiratory system. they sure as hell don't talk.  or:  the plaga in krauser's body won't let him die as a means to preserve its species.

PAIRING: JACK KRAUSER/you.

TAGS: monster fucking, AU where krauser can control his mutation because i say so, monster fucking, slight blood, some tentacles, tweaking with canon abit, monster fucking, mutated arm/hand-knife fucking (?), did i tag monster fucking?, size difference, dumbification, mind break, forced orgasms, crying during sex, he chases you, DUBIOUS CONSENT, tagging body horror just in case, mating press, full nelson, pussy drunk krauser, FERAL KRAUSER, scent kink??, he's just really in heat here lol

WORD COUNT: 4491

A/N: also, just to note. his corpse was found “un-mutated."/no monster arms.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

you've walked in this surgical theatre many times—done operations, dissections many times. but for some reason, dread weighs your steps heavier. you're almost unwilling to push open those doors and uncover the corpse laid on the gurney, but you have to. you know you have to. 

you've cut open corpses many times, fully aware of the horrors they've endured just from their injuries alone. you wear gloves, but you know you can't wash off the blood on your hands. you forget their faces eventually, but—

jack krauser isn't a stranger.

he was your colleague, having nothing in common but your employer. sent together in spain, you were the brains, he was the brawn. krauser protected you, came for you when you became stranded in the laboratory, sent you away without him. it was the last time you saw him. the last time you saw him alive.

now he's laid before you, covered by a white cloth stained with his blood.

you dreaded it. it takes you a minute or two to touch it with your gloved hands, and then—

what the fuck?

his face—it was covered in blood, but he wasn't even pale in complexion. his lips were still pink, plump. almost like he's full of life. you peeled off a latex glove, pressing the top of your bare hand against his forehead, and—there's no mistaking the heat emitting from his dermis. and it wasn't just his forehead, but his whole body, too. chest, abdomen. 

you frantically peel off your other glove, pressing two fingers right below his jawline. it's subtle, weak, and almost imperceptible, but it's there. it's right there. you tugged on the cloth, letting it completely fall, and you cradle his cheek.

"krauser? can you hear me?" 

they said he was dead. that his corpse has been transported off spain and into your private lab. that they checked him and he was gone. you lean in close, bringing your ear close to his nose, and you squealed when his breath tickled the inside of your ear. it startled you, understandably so, jumping back and bumping against your table full of tools—some of your apparatus clanging on the floor. his hands spasmed, and you only noticed now that most of his lacerations have healed up, the gash that split his arm into two was practically gone. 

"k, krauser?"

your voice echoed in krauser's ears. it's so sweet. so comforting. it's a warmth that embraces him, welcomes him when his heart begins to beat again. his pain is gone, and the image of you, his pretty little scientist, flashes before his eyes. it's heavy, at first. like his limbs are nothing but weights. but he sees you in his memory, he hears you, he feels you—and he wanted nothing more than to touch you.

to hold you, to smell you, sink his teeth in you, bury his cock in y—

the light is blinding, and krauser's body jolts awake. his hands, they're no longer mutilated, only scarring and a red line forming on where the skin splits and tears. his chest is dried with blood, but there's no knife, not even a hint of it, and then— 

"oh my god,"

your scent fills krauser's nostrils, and his cerulean gaze averts to you. sweet little thing. he thinks. "doc," he croaked out, getting up from the gurney and almost falling to the floor. you rush to his aid, helping him back up on his feet. your scent is stronger. sweeter. he wants to bury his face in your neck and—

"here. h, have a drink." you skitter around the laboratory, grabbing a bottled water for him to drink. "i, i can't believe this," krauser only grunts, chugging down the water. "they said you were dead," "this look dead t'you, doc?" he can't be dead. who's going to breed his pretty little researcher full? you took the empty plastic bottle from him, setting it aside somewhere. you glance at his irises—and they were just as bright as you remember, except his pupils were dilated as he stared at you. "let's get you cleaned up, c'mon,"

at least ten different lab protocols are being broken by bringing him—a dangerous specimen—into the showers; telling him to wash off the blood and to stay put as you retreat somewhere to bring him clean clothes. as you looked for clothes his size, you can't stop thinking about it, can't wrap it around your head. he came back to life—as him. he recognized you and had no aggression. you're assuming it's the work of the plaga in krauser's body. this was a breakthrough. 

though, it seems like you've spoken too soon, because by the time you return to the showers, it's ransacked and wrecked. long, deep lines are carved into the cement of the bathroom, like someone had been slashing it with a sword. 

"y/n, is that—is that you?"

krauser's voice is back in the surgical theatre he was brought into, and your eyes widen when he emerges from the room. and now you notice how his left arm—the bones of his left arm—had mutated into something similar to a giant blade. the other one was normal, holding up your used glove into his nose. "oh my god," the spare clothes fall on your feet. "i thought you left . .i thought you left me, y/n," instincts take over you, running back to the direction where you came from. 

"wait, y/n, wait!"

you didn't dare look back, because his footsteps tell you that he's right behind you. "not gonna hurt you—!" clearly, that was a lie. you didn't see it, but he almost grabbed a hold of your shoulder, and barely missed. the lustre of his mutated arm—the blade—is slammed against the walls of the hallway, accidentally opening a few doors and destroying a few wires that kept the lights on. krauser sees you turn to the room to the left, but was met with a barely-lit cafeteria. all this furniture, but not a single you in sight. 

you tried to keep your panting to a minimum as you skittered behind the counter. the dark gave you an advantage, and you figured crouching would give you more chances to move around undetected. "don't leave me, y/n. i need you. got even cleaned up f'you. isn't that what you wanted?" krauser whined, and you peeked through the glass as you watched him flip every desk and chair with just one swift move of his arm. "damn it!" he shouts, and you duck just before he could see your head. 

"i'll find you—i'll fucking . . find you. you know i can smell you, right?"

fuck. fuck . . you had to get out of here. the safest place in your lab would be the observation cells. the glass is tough, seriously tough, and only you had access to the doors. it wouldn't be too far from the canteen. you could hear his frustrated grunt, destroying the door of what you think is the pantry. "i love a good hunt, y/n!" you recoiled at the sight of the door being thrown across the room.

"you can't hide forever. come on, y/n. let's not drag this out." the closer he got, the louder you could hear the water and the blood drip from his body. a minute passes, and you could feel your stomach twist in fear when the steps have stopped. just the dripping. 

you slowly raise your head back to the counter, and you shrieked when you realized he had been staring at you this whole time. "thereeee you are. don't run. i was wondering when you'd show that pretty— hey, come back here!" you scramble, heels almost slipping on the smooth floor, but you managed to crawl away, and out. krauser's growl echoes in the empty room, destroying everything that was before him out of frustration. 

the observation cells shouldn't be too far—you knew these halls by heart. even if he destroyed the lights, you knew your way, and where to turn. you had no time to turn on the switches as you entered the study area, your steps pausing in front of the observation cell's door and frantically swiping your ID into the keycard slot.

WELCOME, Y/N.

it greets, the metal door opening for you, and you practically throw yourself into the dark, unlit cell. a sigh escapes you, relieved. you don't hear krauser, and you hoped he's somewhere away from you. you needed to alert wesker. even if you don't, he'll be around soon. 

BIOWEAPON DETECTED. ACTIVATING LOCKS. LIGHTING SYSTEMS SET TO: MINIMAL VISIBILITY.

STRUCTURAL DAMAGE DETECTED. EMERGENCY FAILSAFE DETECTED. UNLOCKING SEQUENCE UNAVAILABLE.

"oh my god," overhead lights slowly activate, and you back yourself into a corner when you see krauser's muscular silhouette. fuck, you were an idiot. "i warned you not to run," you braced yourself for the worst as krauser approached you, his bigger frame looming over you. but he doesn't tear you apart. quite the opposite, actually, you realized that both his arms have now mutated—and the other seemed more grotesque and complex than the blade hand. still, it resembled his hand in a disturbing way.

closing the gap between both of you, the first thing he does is press his nose onto your sweaty jaw, taking in your scent and growling. "delicious," he whispered, his mutilated left arm caging you in place. "d, don't hurt me, please," you whined, and krauser chuckled. "oh no, baby. i could never," you could feel a thin, tendril-like appendage caress your cheek. it's slimy, sticky. "i need you. need you to be my wife. be my mate. gotta get you stuffed full," 

your eyes widened. "no, no! krauser, we—mpffgh!" his lips are on yours, and you could taste the minty toothpaste and the copper of blood. you didn't kiss back, you can't, this was wrong. he could kill you, but you can't push him back—he was twice your fucking size. his tongue forces your lips to part, and you whimpered when he began to graze the blunt edge of his blade arm onto your thigh, your dress hiking up in the process. 

al of your whimpers are muffled. even in this frenzied state, you couldn't deny how much of a great kisser he was. he took charge—which was, well, very in character of krauser—grabbing your waist with his terrifying, gargantuan hand, forcing you to grind your cunt against the edge of his weaponized arm. its bumps sickeningly against your clit, and you can't deny the pleasure that sends sparks all over your body. 

once krauser parts from your lips, he doesn't waste any seconds, kissing your neck and never hesitating to sink his canines onto your skin. "mine," he whispered, tongue temptingly lathering the pillowy flesh of your lobe. "stayed alive f'you. could hear your voice in my earpiece." you're tiny, compared to his enlarged, contorted hand, and it was way too easy for him to tear the fabric off your frame. "krauser, i—," there's not many words you can squeeze out, because krauser doesn't want to hear it. doesn't wanna hear how you don't want him because that's not true. he's seen how you look at him, how you smile at him, how you laugh at his shit jokes—you want him. it's not true that you want him to stop. not true. nottruenottruenotttruenottruenottrue

you groaned in discomfort when his giant hand tightens around your waist, and he maneuvers you as if you were just a doll, throwing you on the unused bed and quickly getting on top of you. the support of the bed breaks, and you shrieked, holding on to him. he shows no reaction, only latching his mouth on your nipples; teasing the squishy, perky ends with his teeth.

the rest of your clothes are torn off, and yet you don't feel a bit of the cold. his warmth—heat, actually—was more than enough to keep you from freezing to death. "you even got us a comfy room. think this'll do for our first honeymoon, sweets?" his trail of bites and kisses head south, tongue teasing the edges of your panties. "i'll take you to—," smooch. "greece. and then—," smooch, smooch. "to croatia—," krauser was practically on his knees by the time he was settled between your legs. the small bed left little to no room for someone his size, but he didn't care. 

"how does that sound, baby? hm? gonna be my pretty little wife," 

you're not given a chance to respond when krauser obscenely pressed his nose into the outline of your pantied cunt, inhaling deeply like you’re oxygen. "don't—fuck! don't do that," you mumbled, slapping a hand on your mouth. you felt so hot, so embarrassed, felt like y'were gonna pop. "hoooly shit," from above, you could see how his eyes rolled back, how he leaned back in to take in to take a second, third, whiff of you. it was so depraved, so . .

krauser strips off the damp fabric by hooking the small bone that curved from his blade arm, and you raised your hips to help him. this immensely pleased krauser. "little slut. eager to let me taste you?" he cooed, and your hips bucked when he began to rub the dull part of his blade against your clit again. "h, hnnng—!" you whimpered. his blood smears on your cunt, and god—krauser was obsessed. this was his blood. his own twisted way of marking you. 

"mmm . . " 

once he gets his tongue on you, he can't pull away. he physically can't stop kissing that pussy, teasing your hole with the tip of his wet muscle. your moans grow louder, subconsciously pressing his face more into your cunt. "so fucking—hmppff. . so fuckin' good," his vox buzzes against your slit. he could taste the metallic flavour of his blood mixing with your own arousal. bittersweet, delectable.

hard t'breathe through his nose when he's busy usin' it to compensate for the lack of attention on your clit, perversely movin' his head side to side as if he could delve deeper into you. "mm, fuck," he groans against your cunt. "h, haa—fuck!" you can't believe you're doing this, actually enjoying what this . . monster was doing to you. "krauser," you whimpered, and krauser hissed when you tugged on his golden, blood-stained locks. 

his face is covered in your slick; milky cream smeared all over his chin and mixing with his saliva. "so good," krauser huffed, his gaze not breaking yours. he loved seeing you like this. docile. "so, so good," his cock ached. ached to feel something. ached to stuff you balls fucking deep. "mine. your pussy's mine," krauser’s taunts are followed by rapid flicks of his tongue on your clit and you can't sit still. can’t keep your hips in place when you involuntarily hump him, when your body's asking for more.

your back arches so sluttily, it's such a shame how he misses the sight, but that's okay. how your clit spasms around his mouth—lips now wrapped around your sensitive bud—and how you squeal and cry his name, it makes up for the shortcoming. you can’t see his face, not when your irises are receding back to your sockets, but his cheeks are hollowed, your poor clit having to deal with intense pleasure as he sucked on it like a good mate should. your body’s pinned in place, and you’re forced to take it. forced to feel that orgasm quickly creeping up on you. 

“jack—♡! waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait!” 

hearing you call him by his given moniker only fuels this already bottomless greed, and soon enough, you’re cumming in his mouth. tugging his hair, letting your body quiver as an orgasm washes over you. your screams echo in the cell, and you could hear how you’ve soaked his face, how he hungrily laps all of it up; tongue all the way down to your ass, up, up to your mons, just to ensure that he won’t waste a single drop. now you smell just like him. “fuuuuuck, y/n,”

your legs feel like jell-o. your body slumps on the broken bed, mind in cloud 9 and feeling nothing but euphoria. it took you a while to notice your krauser bestowing all these kisses onto your jaw in an attempt to bring you back to reality. "y/n," he called, and your gaze steadies, seeing krauser hovering atop you. "hnn . . " "shh, shh, i'm here. you're fine," his lips are all over your face, sweetly bestowing kiss after kiss after kiss. "legs open, baby," you hear him whisper. and you, you're not any better. the moment you're parting your legs for him, krauser makes himself at home, settling between it and letting his cock rest on your cunt. stomach, actually. 

this isn't your first time having sex, seeing cock—but fuck. monstrous is an understatement. "y'like it, girlie?" he taunts, moving his hips and letting your slick soak all of it. "it's big," you huffed. "is that even going to fit?" "it will." krauser was practically growling at you. it has to. you were made for him. just him. "guide it in." krauser demands, and you oblige, holding it and slowly letting the thick crown prod at your tip. 

his hips impatiently move, and at least two inches were forced into your hole. it earns him a wail, as pleasure overwhelms you. "sh , shit—, so tight," he shuddered, that first stretch being nothing but absolute bliss for the both of you. he doesn't wait for you to loosen up, plunging the rest of his cock into your cunt with a feral growl. 

there's a warmth on your cheek, and you realize it's his spit—he's fucking drooling just from putting it in. "love—oh my fucking god—i love your pussy," there's nothing stopping him from pounding you, his hips are practically moving on its own. "j, jaaack . . h, haaaah . . . !" the vice on your waist only made his cock graze the deepest parts of your pretty cunt, essence smearing around the base of his shaft and balls.

"gonna—gonna breed you. mine . . you're fucking mine. you're mine," 

it's what he hears in his head. what all he thinks about. what only matters in this moment. 

it didn't even hit you that your eyes were closed, when his arms—the bladed arm no longer mutated—began to wrap around your ankles. krauser had lifted your hips in the process, and you now both had a clear view of the bulge in your lower area of your tummy. "that's me—lookit' that, baby. that's me . . that's—!" he snarled, canines baring as he forced himself as deep as he could—"me. fucking me."—to show you that was him, alright. "that's me. go on, feel it,"

krauser's prey, you, immersed in your concupiscence and need—mindlessly caress the protrusion, biting your lip and feeling your cunt twitch. "yeaah . . you like that, don't you?" "uh-huh . . ♡," his merciless thrusts resume, and you feel the skin in that area swell with every shove, and shrink back when he's dragging his cock out aaaall the way to the tip. y'didn't need to ask him to fuck you faster, because he's back to impaling you with his monster cock, slamming into you again and again and again. not gently, too. never. krauser never looked like the gentle type, and it showed with his harsh pounding. poor little you can barely keep up, barely think. 

but you loved it. your cunt sure did, wetly squelching as he rut into you. "deeper—deeper, please. please," fuck, fuuuuuck—his balls twitch at your pleading. you looked so fucked out already. so needy, he could practically see the hearts in your pupils. letting his figure anchor your legs, his body replaces his grip; ankles now digging onto the crooks of his traps, he locks you in place with a mean mating press, and even meaner thrusts as his tip kept kissing, bruising your cervix.

"d, deep enough for 'ya, baby?" 

a laugh rumbles from his throat after hearing your answer—if he could call it that—it's nothing but your scandalous mewls. nothing understandable. it spoke volumes for him. his ramming is relentless, driven by ferality. even in this position, with all the work tasked to his hips, it doesn't seem to hold him back, not fatigue, not even difficulty. 

krauser's tongue drags over your slack-jawed mouth, your teeth, and it's not long until his mouth is locked with yours. it's sloppy, hardly passes as a kiss, but it'll make do. after all, krauser has all the time to kiss you in the future anyway. it's hard to reciprocate, hard to even maintain a proper liplock, because his thrusts are just so damn nasty—took all of your strength and logic away!

"needed to . . needed to do this since i laid my e, eyes on you," krauser babbled once your lips are separated, forehead resting on yours. "knew i—knew i needed you then . . oh, baby. fuck, fuck . . " "need y'too. need you, jack. need youu . . h, hnnnngh . . " you don't know what you're saying anymore—mouth movin' faster than your head—but if it was comin' out of your pretty lips, it must be true. 

his hips are forcefully slamming down on you like there was no tomorrow, starved and animalistic. it made your toes curl, made you cry out his name and hold on to his arms as he fucked you hard and deep. the pain has long subsided, and once you've adjusted to the leg-shaking stretch, it's nothing but euphoria, nothing but pleasure. something you didn't know you craved for, til now. 's all what your fucked-out pretty head can think about. 

but it's not enough, krauser thinks. because you're still lucid. still fucking conscious. 

he's gotta—gotta be a good mate, gotta be good to the bearer of his kids. gotta fuck you harder! just when you thought he can't go any faster, he does. you're not given the chance to ponder how he has the stamina, because every single thought that doesn't involve his cock turns to a blur. 

he's pistoning his hips brutally into you, your cervix forced to accommodate his tip. you feel it, almost like a triumphant pop! when the bulbous crown's enveloped with a second ring of tightness. "oh m , my— uhnn! g, gooooooddd—♡!" 

your eyes cross, and with him caging you in place, you're just forced to feel it all, feel all this pleasure. feel him force an orgasm out of you as he kept pummeling that creamy fucking cunt. "oh, baby. there you go. such'a . . so good, yeah? keep squirting. ♡," it's almost like nothing happened, and he keeps fucking you to overstimulation, loving how he could experience your cunt quiver around him. 

clear liquid is dripping from him, and fuuuuck, your fucking smell just fills the room. he knows it's this damned parasite that makes your scent thrice as delicious, but he doesn't care. doesn't fucking care. just you. 

all he cares about is youjust youjustyoujustfuckingyou

all of your strength is practically gone. not like you needed it, when krauser was there to manhandle you. and for once, he's showing signs that he's human—his thrusts beginning to get reckless and frantic. it's obvious he's close to spilling his load into you, and krauser wants nothing more than to breed your fucking womb.

you could feel your nipples graze upon his built chest when your spine curves beautifully. despite faltering and losing the rhythm he had maintained early on, it's just as vigorous; fulfilling his unspoken promise to ruin you or anyone else. i mean, who else could batter your sensitive womb like he does? who can even compare? nobody.

letting a growl reverberate in the cell, he's plunging into you so deep you could feel his pubes graze against your sensitive clit. you could hardly miss the hot sensation of his cum filling you and overspilling. you're not talking, obviously, and krauser wasn't, either—brows narrowed together as he whimpered through the toe-curling ecstasy. it's fucking messy and leaks everywhere, and all you could do was whine as he bred you, rutting into you a few more times before practically slamming down his body weight onto you.

you're in heaven, you think—seeing white and feeling weightless? yeah, you were. 

krauser sloppily sucked on your tongue, his own filthy way of kissing you, as he stayed still. he swears he can still feel semen spurting out. "mhff . . baby," your spit's all over him, and fuck, it was so nasty, he loved it. "y/n, sweetheart. come back," his kisses trail over to your jawline, and with a territorial bite of his teeth, your eyes are flashing open. "hi," you weakly, craning your neck. "hi, baby," like you weren't marked up enough, krauser added a few more bright red hickeys that branded you his—only his. it looked perfect on you. all you needed was his last name, he thinks.

you could hear him transform back to his original state—unmutated and owning normal-sized hands and arms. it was definitely a little nasty, hearing crunches of bones and the squishing of tender flesh. yeah. you definitely needed to get used to that. 

"don't pass out on me, baby. 'm not yet done,"

"what?"

━━━ ♱ ━━━

you can't tear your eyes away from your cunt, as if krauser has trained you to keep your gaze ONLY on your cunt. his arms are hooked under your weak legs, muscular chest pressed against your sweaty back, and fucking sprawling you and that creampied, filled pussy open for everyone to see as he held you in place in a full nelson. this was krauser's third round, and you've lost track of what time it is and how many times you've cummed on his cock. 

not even the thought of wriggling and squirming away filled your head. you shamelessly begged him to fuck you, begged him to make everyone know that you belonged to him and not caring a single bit about the depraved words you babbled out. 

your eyes widen when you feel something thin, slimy, slithering on your skin, on your hips. it's coming from his strong forearms, snaking its way up, up on the back of your thighs. "k, krauser what's—what's th , thaa— h, hngg, fuuuuuuck . . ♡!" your question is quickly answered when the tendrils gently wrap around your clit, kneading and mimicking a sucking sensation. 

krauser laughs when you're forced to cum, your squirt splashing onto the unbreakable glass wall, right in front of your boss—who's been watching for maybe about an hour now. yet you only registered his figure just now, and for some reason, your cunt twitches in anticipation. 

"yeah? y'like being fucked in front of someone?" 

he chuckled mischievously, adjusting his hold on your head so he could pound you just a little faster. you're mortified, humiliated, being locked in place in such a provocative, vulnerable way, but your cunt's betraying you, pulsating and leaking more creamy slick onto krauser's cock.

"he's been watching us, baby. listening. right from the start. like what you see, wesker?"

end.

A/N: hi! sorry ive been gone. i'd like to wish you all a belated happy holidays and a happy new year! i've been so busy, and i got really sick after christmas, so i've been kinda resting. sort of. i think this one is sloppy too, i'm currently recovering from a deadly writer's block. thank you so much for reading! mwaaah! <3

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Many Languages of Love - Friendship (LU in Healthcare)

Summary: Legend calls out for work. He never does that. So his friends check up on him.

Setting: Healthcare AU

Warriors frowned.

He was looking over the staffing sheet for the night shift to help the night charge nurse coordinate getting coverage, and the latest person to call out was… Legend.

Legend. The same guy who would work eleven nights in a row, who would come in half dead because he didn’t want to get an occurrence and leave the ED short staffed.

Something was very wrong.

Whipping out his phone, Warriors texted Wild first, knowing he was off. When he sent the message, though, it never indicated as delivered.

Wild was likely out exploring his namesake. Typical.

Twilight was working. Four should be awake after his night shift, so maybe he’d try him next. Sky was off too. He’d just seen Time, so he knew he and likely Malon as well were both here. Hyrule was off as well. Wind had school.

Warriors reached out to who he could, and Sky replied first.

He called out? Is he dying?

Idk, Warriors replied. But somebody should check on that.

I’m on it, Sky said.

XXX

The day hadn’t exactly been going the way Legend had planned.

He’d thought the cough was due to the weather change. Sniffles with the shift in temperatures was pretty normal. But when he’d woken up today, he’d felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

It made no sense! The patients he’d taken care of last night hadn’t even been all that sick! The only one who stuck out to him was that awful trauma that had kept him busy for six hours, and then the next hour of time he’d spent with the trauma patient’s family while working on the death packet paperwork. None of the family had been sick, had they?

His symptoms hardly added up. He felt exhausted, and was vomiting so often he could barely hold anything down. But yesterday he’d just had the sniffles like a cold or flu brewing. Maybe it was the flu, he wasn’t sure, but the respiratory symptoms were gone.

In either case, he was too weak to get off the couch, let alone go to work.

It sucked.

Worst of all, his stupid pride prevented him from texting anyone about it. Even though he knew damn well Warriors would get nosy once he saw that Legend had called out. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed about it.

He could take care of himself, and he didn’t want anyone else to get sick. His stomach churned as he thought, it’s a good thing Ravio’s travel contract ended and he’s somewhere else now, or I’d have to drag myself back to my room.

He missed that moron. Living alone was not new to him, but he’d gotten strangely used to having someone else around. Maybe he’d put the word out to get another housemate.

But he certainly wouldn’t do so right now, while he felt like freaking death.

His phone buzzed. It had been buzzing. He didn't care. He saw that there were texts coming in, but his head was full of cotton and he hardly had the strength to keep his eyes open and hydrate.

He should probably start an IV on himself. He'd hoarded enough supplies to do it. But they were all in his bedroom, and he was out here in the den on the couch. Could he even make it that far?

His phone buzzed again. Then there was a knock at his door.

Legend lifted his head from his pillow before plopping it back down and throwing the cover over his entire body, hiding himself from the world. Between his shift last night and how he felt now, he certainly didn't want to deal with people, didn't want to move, didn't want to think.

The person knocked again. Louder. Legend growled and burrowed further into his blanket. Eventually they would go away.

XXX

Ok, so hes not answering his phone OR his door??

What if he's like dying

Maybe somebody should call 911

Twilight stared at the group chat, brow furrowing. Warriors had started texting everyone together after people had passed messages to each other in worry, trying to keep things organized. Time and WIld had yet to reply, but everyone else had chimed in.

Well... except for Legend himself, obviously.

Twilight had been busy ambulating a patient, but he had a moment to sit, and no call bells were going off, so he replied. 911 seems a bit much. I can leave early and check on him.

But I'm already at his door and he's not answering. How are YOU going to check on him too? Sky asked.

I know what I'm doing, was all Twilight said before texting Sky privately, asking him to get some supplies for him.

Twilight glanced towards the manager's office. He could potentially leave early. He would get a write up for it, even if it was for a family emergency, but he didn't care - if Legend was legitimately ill, then he'd take the smack to the wrist. Hospital policies were stupid anyway. Besides, it wasn't like they could afford to fire him, with as short staffed as they were.

He tried to ignore the anxiety building up in his chest. He hoped he was right when he said not to call 911.

When he reached Legend's apartment, Sky met him at the door, holding a small leather pouch. "This is what you wanted from the ranch, right?"

"Yeah, that's it," Twilight replied before grabbing it and opening it. All his lock picking tools were there, and he nodded to himself.

Sky glanced over, eyes widening. "Oh, you have one too?"

Twilight blinked, looking up at Sky. "What?"

His friend smiled innocently. "It's nothing. Can we get inside now?"

Twilight stared a moment longer before shaking his head. Legend could be dying for all they knew, he had to focus. He quickly picked the lock, opening the door, only for a bolt to stop it as soon as he attempted.

Cursing under his breath, Twilight tried to push another tool through the opening to work the latch off the hook.

"Whoever you are, I'll fucking cut you," a hoarse voice threatened quietly, not sounding threatening at all.

"Legend!" Sky called. "Legend, it's us! Are you okay?"

"What the--Sky??"

"Ledge, open the door or I will," Twilight ordered, growing agitated.

There was an incoherent string of curses before a loud thud rang across the way. Sky called out to Legend, who didn't answer.

Twilight had had enough. He kicked once, twice, and the door swung open, latch flying off the frame. He and Sky rushed in to find Legend, pale and sweaty, half collapsed and tangled in a giant comforter, eyes wide with both alarm and annoyance.

"You broke my fucking door!" Legend wheezed before groaning and putting his head on the ground.

"I'll fix it," Twilight answered easily, hauling his friend over his shoulder. "Let's get you to bed and figure out what's happening."

"What the hell, Twi, put me down--"

Sky smirked, relieve his friend was alive and awake. "You should be used to this by now after Time had to carry you out of the ED."

Legend's pale face grew even whiter. "That son of a bitch talked, didn't he, I'm gonna--"

"Enough, save your strength," Twilight interrupted. After he settled their friend in bed, he knelt down to be at eye level with him. "What happened? You look awful."

"Well, now that my door is destroyed--"

"Legend."

"I don't know!" Legend squeaked before moaning, squeezing his eyes shut. "I just feel like shit."

"Well, don't worry about it now, we'll take care of you," Twilight said gently.

Legend puffed out his cheeks to argue before giving up.

Twilight and Sky rotated being by his side and taking care of the apartment, which was a disaster - Legend had been working the last four nights before falling incredibly ill. He never spiked a fever, but he threw up whatever they tossed his way.

"G-gonna n-need an IV," Legend mumbled, exhausted. "Twi... can you...?"

"No," Twilight immediately shook his head. "No, the last time, I--Malon was--no."

"Do you have a drill?" Sky asked. "I bet I can figure out an IO."

Legend glared at him. "You are not drilling into my bones."

"We'll get Wars--"

"Just let me die."

"Legend."

"Where the fuck is Hyrule."

"I'm right here."

Sky and Twilight turned to see Hyrule walking into the room.

"Wait, I swear I locked up," Sky noted.

Hyrule shrugged. "I came in through the window."

Twilight stared. "We're on the fifth floor."

"Yeah?" another voice asked as Wild traipsed into the room. "And?"

Sky shrugged. "I mean, it works."

Twilight chewed on his tongue, opting to thank God they hadn't died rather than chew them out at the moment. "Ledge needs an IV."

"Oh, okay," Hyrule said easily. "You got supplies or do you need me to get some?"

There was a knock at the door as Legend spoke to Hyrule, and Twilight sighed, rising to answer it. He hadn't paid attention to his phone, so when Four and Wind almost barreled him over, he yelped in shock.

"We've been texting, dude, what the hell," Wind snapped. "Is he dead, is he okay, what is--"

"He's sick, but he's stable," Twilight reported as he steadied himself. "I took his vitals, they aren't terrible. Blood pressure's a little low, but not worryingly so. Heart rate's rate at the edge of tachycardic. He's probably dehydrated."

"We should take him to an urgent care so he can get some IV fluids," Four said firmly.

"Hyrule's giving him fluids now."

"He--he is?" Wind's eyes widened. "Wait I wanna see! I never get to see IVs started!"

Wind dashed into the room, leaving the other two and giving Four just enough time to warn him, "Wars is coming up, he just had to park the car. Time and Malon are on their way."

Twilight nodded, listening as Wind chatted and checked on Legend in the bedroom.

By the time he got back to the others, Hyrule had taped his successful IV and was running a fluid bolus into his friend. Twilight sighed, sitting on the bed, watching Legend squirm uncomfortably and try to rest.

Eventually, the entire group was there. They cleaned the apartment, they relaxed in the den and watched a movie, rotating in and out of Legend's room. When the initial fluid bolus was done, Legend's relief was visible.

"You certainly were thirsty," Wild noted. "You feeling better?"

"Still nauseous as hell, but yeah," Legend reported. Then he smiled, looking at all of them. "I... I'm sorry you guys had to come here. But... thanks."

Twilight tipped his head to the side. "That's what friends are for, Ledge."

"Yeah," Sky agreed. "But Twi did totally wreck your door, so we decided we'd take you to the ranch to stay there for a while."

Legend's eyes widened, smile fading. "What?"

"Okay, so we're good to kidnap him now?" Wild asked, glancing at Time.

Time checked his phone. "Malon says the room is ready, yes."

"You little--you guys--you're all assholes--"

"Now, now, Legend, you said you were thankful," Warriors tutted.

"I hate all of you," Legend grumbled, though there was absolutely no bite to it.

"Relax, we'll bring your stuff too," Four assured him. "It's best to be somewhere where others can help you."

Legend said nothing, growing grouchy and exhausted. This work stretch had been longer than most, and he could still hear the family members crying over their lost loved one, could still hear the red alarms. He was beginning to wonder if he was even truly sick at all, having never spiked a fever or been around anyone with similar symptoms. Either that, or his immune system just crashed after...

Well. He didn't know. Heavy stress could lead to illness, but...

Whatever. He would never admit it, but he was grateful to be going to the ranch.

But he knew, he knew he would never hear the end of it once Warriors found his pet bunny.

[dystopianroach]

But since we’re all going to die… I feel there’s one more secret I need to share with you.

I do not care for accounts like Insecthaus, Kevin Wiley, and the like.

The bullshit that these accounts pull off these strange “educational” and “appreciative” videos where they let arthropods (usually ones that can bite or sting) climb all over their faces, into their hair, AND INSIDE OF THEIR MOUTHS are so fucking corny. They are not appreciating or respecting the animals they work with - the reason their content works so well is because they are exploiting something stereotypically perceived as disgusting and performing something of a circus act; I.e. “look at me! I have something you don’t like on my face or on my body! It could probably sting or bite me right now! isn’t this incredible! make sure to hit that follow button!!!” I fucking hate these “animal influencers” oh my god.

Recently I saw a video on tiktok of someone who was allowing their centipedes (Scolopendramorphs) climb all over their face and near their lips, following this exact circus act formula and they claimed in the comments that these videos “show that these animals aren’t as dangerous and violent as people think they are”. You know that at any moment, your centipede which already has substantially poor vision could lose its balance, use its forcipules to dig into your skin, and inject venom?

“ok but centipede bites usually aren’t fatal and they don’t hurt that much!” Pain is subjective, venom is not. You are at risk of developing a complication from a centipede bite if you are:

- young

- elderly

- disabled

- immunocompromised

- suffering from heart conditions

- suffering from neurological conditions

- allergic to centipede venom (which you probably won’t know if you are until you’re bitten!)

- already sick with an infection

- have weakness of the heart

- suffer from respiratory issues

When I was bitten on the back of the neck by a Scolopendra metuenda, my legs entirely shut down and I went into cardiac shock due to my underlying heart problems that at the time were undiagnosed. I almost died. Filming this daredevil stunt behavior and then uploading it online not only puts you at risk, but I guarantee that someone is going to assume they can handle these animals without an ounce of respect and expect no consequences.

You can appreciate and respect an animal’s beauty and power without the need to touch or become intimate with it. You are not a more professional or interesting keeper for putting these animals on your face (where they have a risk for slipping, falling, and becoming injured!). Please respect their boundaries and their sentience - they are living, conscious things just like you and I - not toys or stunt props or whatever the hell you people think they are.

I don’t care how much you paid a man vaping in front of a folding table for your terribly kept arthropod at Repticon - stop treating it like utter shit.

[gatheringbones]

Your former roommates are rotten people and i hope they burn their tongues on coffee every month this year (not more often because it won't change them into better humans anyway). Hope your home is peaceful now!

ironically, it was the part where I was explaining to my shrink over the phone that they were NOT horrible people and actually had no idea of the significance of what they were doing to me that got me in the worst trouble. My therapist said “wow what selfish dickheads” and I said “No, they were just neglected and let down their entire lives by every adult they’ve ever encountered, they’ve literally never had the opportunity to see other people’s needs and well-being as real or something they have influence over, all they do is smoke weed all day every day, they’re both miserably anxious and depressed, they barely make it through one day to the next, the idea that they would want to take precautions against being prematurely crippled or killed by a respiratory illness that attacks your lungs and brain and blood vessels is just silly, plus he’s all wrapped up in the cis man thing where you prove your gender through not getting sick or showing weakness in any way, and she’s a scared little twenty two year old girl too intimidated to ride the bus let alone ask her boyfriend to do something he doesn’t want to do. They both float through their lives without thinking about anything ever, they have no idea that I’m even scared of getting covid because the whole idea is completely alien to them. I can’t even begin to explain my distress to them because it would be like teaching trigonometry to a tardigrade. It’s not real. I’m not real. The only thing that’s real is their suffering.”

roommate 1 was pressed up against the door listening to the whole therapy session 🌝

[unboundprompts]

any tips on how to write somebody who is suffering from hypothermia/ frostbite?

How to Write About Hypothermia/Frostbite

-> Mayoclinic: Hypothermia

-> Mayoclinc: Frostbite (has images that may be triggering)

-> Nationwide Children's: Frostbite

Hypothermia is caused by long exposure to cold weather or water. Your body begins to lose heat faster than it can be produced. Left untreated, hypothermia can lead to complete failure of your heart and respiratory system and eventually to death.

Symptoms of Hypothermia:

Shivering

Slurred speech or mumbling

Slow, shallow breathing

Weak pulse

Clumsiness or lack of coordination

Drowsiness or very low energy

Confusion or memory loss

Loss of consciousness

Bright red, cold skin (in infants)

Someone with hypothermia usually isn't aware of their condition because the symptoms often begin gradually. Also, the confused thinking associated with hypothermia prevents self-awareness. The confused thinking can also lead to risk-taking behavior.

What to do if a Doctor is not an Option:

Removing wet clothing

Protecting the affected area from further cold

Not walking on frostbitten feet

Reducing pain with a pain reliever

Frostbite is damage to the skin caused by extreme cold. It happens when the skin, nerves, and blood vessels below the top layer of the skin freeze. Rain, snow, water, and wind can cause the skin to cool faster, which may lead to frostbite.

Early signs of frostbite:

Skin that is paler than normal, cold, and hard

Pain, tingling, burning, numbness, or aching

Swelling

Blisters in the first 24 hours

Later signs of frostbite (if not treated):

Dark purple or black skin color

No feeling or pain in that part of the body

Frostbite is most common on the fingers, toes, nose, ears, cheeks and chin. 

Writing Prompts about Hypothermia and Frostbite:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

She was so cold she could barely think. The feeling in her feet and hands were lost so long ago that she could hardly bring herself to continue walking.

His breathing was so shallow that he was lightheaded. He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't keep his eyes open. He wanted nothing more than to just lay down.

Their fingers and toes were tingling, a burning sensation that was slowly spreading.

She looked at her fingers, her skin an ugly purple shade.

Blisters coated his skin, the confusion he felt was too much for him to grasp the gravity of the situation.

They couldn't stop shivering, their entire body felt like it was burning.

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