Mod’s personal faves + reader taking care of them on a sick day~
since I don't have any requests right now and the blog is new... let me amuse myself with some of my faves and one of my most loved concepts! <3
COLE
Well, now… isn’t he the lucky one today? Sure, he can’t breathe through his nose, he’s so tired he’s practically confined to bed, and he’s coughing like a smoker. Yeah, okay, all that is true. But being sick means that you will cancel other plans (say, with the other boys) to take care of him. You’re just that devoted to him, a bit of a sniffle keeps you by his side all day. That’s what he tells himself, at least. Your concerned expression and gentle kisses on his forehead are all he could ever need. He doesn’t know how to respond to such kindness and fussing, almost… except to melt into it, nestling himself in against any cuddles you offer. While he makes a comment along the lines of, “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll be better in no time with your care.”, he secretly (and maybe not so secretly as well) wishes he’d be sick forever. He just… wants you all to himself. Is that so wrong? Watch out, because after this, he might actually seek out situations to get himself sick just so you can take care of him, and his fragile immune system will just let it happen. He could end up seriously ill if he isn’t careful.
FABIAN
Darling… he needs to be taken care of! Look at him, do you really think he’s capable of looking after himself in such a state? How he got this sick, he’ll never know. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise, allowing the two of you some extra time together. Surely that’s not a bad thing, even if he spends it being a mess. Whenever he complains about looking a mess, you always tell him that he’s a very pretty mess, so as long as he’s still pretty to you, that’s all he gives a damn about. And keeping your attention on him, of course. Although he’s self-conscious about some things (in particular he hates that his gills also function like a nose), he’s a fairly good patient provided you aren’t distracted by anything else. He happily leans into your fussing, and will probably take any medicine you shove at him. Can he sleep snuggled up against you? He’s going to sleep snuggled up against you. Like Cole, you’ll have to watch that he doesn’t deliberately get himself sick just so you can take care of him. That is unfortunately peak Fabian behavior, and if he thinks it will result in more attention from you, he’ll do it.
NIMH
Wowzers, this is… it’s… it’s, ughhhh. The way this poor man feels about being sick is the closest he will ever get to hating something. Even then, he just can’t bring himself to use that word. It’s bad, and he’s miserable, but he’s faced worse in his life, hey? A little cold isn’t going to take him out, especially with his darling taking good care of him. Particularly given his history of issues with his heart and because he’s a physician assistant, he’s actually pretty good at gently instructing you on the kinds of medicines he can have. Because of his heart, traditional decongestants are off the table, as are most anti-inflammatory drugs like aspirin or ibuprofen. He gives you a little list for the store and trusts you, so that’s a plus! The biggest thing to help him is a nasal spray, so… you’ll, um… you’ll help him with that, right? All he really expects is for you to be there ready with some tissues, because using that spray makes him sneeze like crazy! There are a couple brands of low- or no-sodium soups he can have, and decaf tea, so if you bring him that, he’s so emotional from the fever he might just cry. Hugs will happen. He’s a terrific patient who doesn’t fight you, spends most of his time sleeping on your chest, and is sure to thoroughly show his gratitude once he feels better.
POE
Aaaah… the latest in a long line of misfortunes for him, isn’t it? Woe is him, Poe is him… ah, you know the rest. Basically. It’s certainly not the worst thing to happen to him, and at the very least, he has the sort of healthy mindset that being sick is merely a part of life. It’s just the kind of thing that happens, regardless of who you are or how well you try to take care of yourself. So, he’s pretty relaxed about being fussed over. He’ll gingerly put a stop to it if you start to go overboard, (no, babe, he does not need help blowing his nose, thanks), but mostly he takes it in stride. It beats taking care of himself or trying to get through a ‘normal’ day when he feels like shit, after all. The only thing he can gripe about is that his red cheeks and nose clash with his eyeliner. Though… he might forego it and let you see him without makeup. Talk about love! Huh. Would enough cold medicine knock him out?? Perhaps he can sleep through the worst of it. He’s glad you’re here, though. It means he gets your hand running through his hair, and kisses on the cheek, and your affectionate voice murmuring, “Aw, you poor thing.” He… didn’t know he needed something like that. He’ll write a poem about the experience once he’s lucid enough not to break his mind trying to find a rhyme for ‘thermometer’.
SCALE
Stop… stop… stop mother-henning him!!! He’s not used to it! You don’t need to do it! He’s fine…! And. Well. Mid-rant, he starts to cough so hard and for so long his face turns bright red, leaving him gasping for air. So much for denying that he’s sick in the first place, because that’s definitely what he did. He tries so hard to pretend like he’s fine, particularly because he’s got a big insecurity about feeling as if he can’t take care of himself. He’s spent so long doing fine by himself, he’s independent, and letting someone else take care of him makes him feel as if he can’t take care of himself. That’s not exactly true, but his feelings are his feelings. Thankfully, as tsundere as he acts, in reality he craves someone to take care of him. He’s strong all the time, and as soon as you give him ‘permission’ to be weak, it’s like he just falls apart from all the pressure he’s put on himself. Once he knows he’s in good hands, he lets himself nuzzle against you for support, whimpering and asking if you’ll still take care of him. So, of course, you happily oblige. You make sure to strip him down to just a T-shirt and shorts so he doesn’t overheat… hold a cup to his lips so he can swallow medicine and soup… rub his back and press soft kisses to his forehead. He’s very lazy while sick, which makes it easy for you to take care of him. As soon as he realizes he can just be sick, he leaves it all to you. He doesn’t fight after that. It’s almost disappointing when he starts to feel better… how is he supposed to ask for those kinds of things again, without an ‘excuse’ and just because he wants you to coddle him for a bit…?
SETH
Hell’s bells, is this seriously what mortals go through every… year? How many years do humans live, again? And how many times do they have to deal with being sick over the course of that short life? … Wait, how many?! Fire and brimstone. He’s never been gladder that he isn’t mortal. Because he isn’t mortal, however, he doesn’t get ill very often. Which is a good thing, but it also means he just generally doesn’t know how to be sick. He’s terrible at just being a sick person. He’s a little over 900 years old, and he’s had a cold or flu maybe ten times total during his life. And he forgets every single time what it’s like… and, damn, it sucks. Although he tries incredibly hard not to whine, because demons don’t whine, it’s pretty clear he feels terrible. He actually growls if you try to extract him from his hoodie, and the violent shudders he gives when you try to wipe him with cold water to lower his fever are a pitiable sight. The big problem is that he doesn’t know how to properly care for himself while he’s sick, so it’s up to you. He’s grateful… and yet, he feels pathetic for needing your help. It’s as if he thinks he’s some crappy excuse for a demon just for the fact that he managed to catch a cold and struggles to take care of himself while he doesn’t feel well. That you don’t judge, you just buckle down and do what you know will make him feel better? That… helps his ego. He’ll reward you nicely for taking such good care of him the second he’s recovered.
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BG3 Drabble - Astarion/Tav Moonridge
Wrote this up one day because I had absolute fluff on the brain and was impatient to get to the romance part of the fanfiction I'm writing. It's just a short, cute, fluffy thing about Astarion and my Tav - post confession - where she wants help sleeping and Astarion is privately suspicious of what her "real" intent is.
All my original posts about Baldur's Gate 3 are located here: [Link]
If you just want the AO3 link, that's here: [Link]
Astarion was a little skeptical of Tav’s motives when she asked him to lay on her when they went to bed. The excuse she’d given him was because she’d been having troubles falling asleep and said it would help. While she had assured him, multiple times, that she really was fine not having sex until he was ready, there was still a paranoia in the far back of his mind that it wasn’t true. That she was far less okay with it than she claimed. That this was some kind of manipulation to entice him. That part of his brain had him all but convinced this was a scheme.
“I promise it’s nothing nefarious I just…sleeping with you on me is comforting.” Tav had admitted, sounding embarrassed and face flushing. “No sex, I swear.”
Hesitating only a little bit, he’d agreed – as of late he found himself incapable of telling her ‘no’, especially not to any kind of bedroom activity. Once Tav laid back on his bedroll, Astarion stretched out over her before carefully lowering down. Placing his head over her chest, he slowly put his weight on her. Waist resting between her legs, arms bracketing her torso before sliding up under her shoulders, so his hands were by the pillow. Her heart steadily thumping under his ear as he settled.
“Comfortable?” Tav asked uncertainly. Her hands lifted and moved around him. One hand found his hair and slowly, gently, she carded her fingers through it, nails gingerly scratching his scalp as she did so. The other hand gently rested on his shoulder, running her thumb idly up and down soothingly. However, he made a face when he felt her legs shift – certain they were about to wrap around him. Instead, they both simply bent at the knee, one a bit more than the other, and went still. It took him longer than he would ever admit to realize that she was just shifting to be more comfortable. Same way she did every time she’d fallen asleep under him.
“I am.” Astarion said softly. He wasn’t lying. Physically, this was comfortable for him. Emotionally though, it was far less comfortable. They had gone to bed like this before, more than once, but it had always been after a vigorous round of sex when both of them had been too lazy to move apart from each other. Any other time he rested on top of someone like this had been for the same reasons. Even his body knew this and, despite still having clothes on and not wanting to do anything, there was a twitch in his groin anticipating something more energetic to come. As he felt the twitch, Astarion was relieved that he was taller than her, from his position her pelvis was just under his stomach, no where near close enough to have felt the involuntary reaction.
“See? It’s not so bad.” She teased lightly.
He only gave a humorous chuckle in response. Part of him waited on edge though, expecting her to initiate something. Expecting any moment to feel her hips tilt or her body arch up against him. Instead, she simply laid quietly, humming softly in the dark, drawing her fingers through his hair. Absently, her tail took up it’s usual spot, draping and curling around his lower leg. Slowly, her humming faded, her fingers in his hair slowed before resting on his neck, her breathing evened out, and the hand resting on his shoulder went limp, sliding down.
Astarion blinked. ‘She’s…asleep?’ The sound of her heart slowing to it’s nightly rhythm under his ear confirmed it. Staring off to the side, head cradled on her chest, he once again felt his world crack and reorganize around him. Which it seemed to do that more often than he liked with her.
Tav had genuinely meant it. Tav wasn’t initiating sex, or coercing him into something they agreed not to. All she wanted was to feel his weight on her because she was having trouble falling asleep.
The urge to push himself up and stare at her was strong. He probably would have if the feeling of her hand resting on his neck, fingers twitching softly as she started to dream, hadn’t been so damn soothing. Instead he closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her. ‘Damn woman.’ He thought nearly laughing. ‘You have no idea what you do to me do you?’
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