#yeah. i’ll maintag that. sure. why the fuck not

[comfymoth]

presented without comment .

[meyerlansky]

you say in your bio "antis fuck right off", and "darkfic" rarely means anything else, so regardless of if you didn't say anything related to that literally, it still carries those connotations and I don't want my post to be seen through "anti-anti" lens or to be interacted with as if I agree with those views, which is why I want it unreblogged since you might consider me an "anti"

I’M the one projecting? that’s not what “darkfic” means. it just means dark content. that includes murder. that includes dehumanization. that DEFINITELY includes cannibalism. it includes the exact same elements that pathologic highlights in the game itself. the narrow lens of the term that one person brings to it isn’t the end-all and be-all of the concept.

beyond that, disliking “darkfic” of any stripe doesn’t make you an anti. it makes you a person with preferences and boundaries that deserve to be respected. harassing people based on what you think their choices say about them as a person makes you an anti.

i don’t agree with harassing people into self-harm, suicide, or joblessness, or ostracizing them and creating whisper networks based on unsubstantiated accusations, which is what antis do and have done, including in the pathologic fandom. so yeah, i have “antis fuck off” in my bio. if you prefer to be seen through that lens and associated with that kind of behavior, that... sure is a choice. do you do those things? i assume not, because i generally try to assume the best of strangers on the internet, and if not, then i don’t consider you an anti. i consider you a person with preferences and boundaries that deserve to be respected.

if you don’t want people in the pathologic fandom, even people you disagree with, to engage with your posts about pathologic, then it probably shouldn’t be maintagged, because people you disagree with are still part of the fandom for the game. i’m also a person with boundaries that deserve to be respected, and there’s a HUGE difference between saying “i don’t want my post misinterpreted and i’d appreciate if you removed your reblog/tags” vs immediately assuming the worst of me, then doubling down on putting words in my mouth and making assumptions about what i REALLY mean, and expecting me to take responsibility for what you’ve projected onto me.

i’ll delete the post, because i don’t want content on my blog from people who  think it’s okay to treat other people this way. but you could have just asked me to. none of this was warranted.

[ethereousdelirious]

Yada yada yada I'm on mobile and can't do a read more and I'm not going to butcher this fic by censoring all the names so vanillas please don't be weird or abusive to me on this post. It's not maintagged, so the only reason you're seeing it is because of Tumblr fucking idiotic decision to show posts that haven't been tagged

Anyway. Here's that request for sick!Yasha~ Let's hope the formatting doesn't get all fucked up

For Yasha, waking up in pain was not a novelty or even an unwelcome surprise. Pain was merely the byproduct of work and would fade, as all things did, in time.

Today, however, was unusual. Yesterday had been easy. Like the others, she spent part of the day walking and part of the day riding in the cart. They hadn't fought. They'd even made camp early and she'd spent some time sitting in the grass talking with Caleb.

Why then, did her joints ache like she had spent the day hauling cargo for the circus? Why was her head pounding in time with the drumbeat of her pulse?

"Up and at 'em, Yasha!" Beau gave her arm a light kick.

Yasha sat up slowly. "Morning."

"'Deuces is already done with breakfast. You'd better hurry before Nott eats it all."

"I wouldn't let her," Caduceus said from over by the fire.

Nott glared at him, her eyes shiny. "Like you could stop me."

Yasha laughed lightly and got to her feet. "I didn't mean to sleep in so late." She shuffled over to the fire and sat down beside Fjord. Beau followed her and squeezed in beside Jester.

"You didn't even move when Fjord tried to wake you up," Jester said. "You just kind of--" She threw her head back and opened her mouth, a caricature of Yasha asleep on her back with her mouth open.

"Oh." Yasha looked at what everyone was eating, some sort of oatmeal with berries, and decided she didn't want any. "Was I snoring?"

"Only a little bit," Beau said. "It was kinda cute actually."

"Like purring," Caleb agreed. He snapped a Frumpkin appeared in Yasha's lap.

Yasha buried her fingers in the soft fur, still feeling strangely hungover and overworked. "Caduceus?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any," she hesitated, still not quite used to just asking for things from this strange new family, "mint tea?"

"Yeah, I'm sure I have something like that." Caduceus sat back and began to pull things from his bag. "Anyone else?"

The group murmured their mixed assents and declinations. Caduceus prepared some water to boil.

"We should probably get a move on sooner rather than later," Fjord spoke up.

"We will," Caduceus said, unconcerned. "This won't take long."

Fjord looked like he wanted to argue, but fell silent.

"Sorry," Yasha said, suddenly hyper aware of how the group might perceive her. "I didn't mean-- I don't want to hold us up."

"It's fine, Fjord is just antsy," Jester reassured her. "You know he can't sit still."

"I have the cure for that," Beau stood up and grabbed Fjord by the collar. "C'mon. Let's go do some push-ups since you're so energetic."

"Save me," Fjord whispered as he was dragged away, and then he was gone.

Yasha chuckled. Sitting like this was nice. Her joints didn't feel quite so sore and her head only hurt when moved too quickly. 

When Caduceus handed her a steaming mug of mint tea, she drank it down quickly so as not to hold anyone up more than she already had.

At first it was pleasant, warming her body against the chill of the morning air.

But the heat didn't fade. By the time they packed the wagon and started down the path, she was sweating. Each step felt like it took twice the effort that it normally would.

She went silent as she walked, trying to figure out what could be wrong. Had she been poisoned? She knew Fjord and Nott were mistrustful of her now, but they wouldn't-- Would they?

No. Yasha shook her head to clear it. They wouldn't. Maybe… It was a slim possibility, but it was the only one that made logical sense. Maybe she was sick.

Yasha was rarely ill, especially not like this. The last time she'd been sick, she had caught a head cold off Molly, and continued to work while he draped himself all over her and complained that he was dying.

She smiled at the memory and let it fade before the pain of his loss could come sneaking in. So she was sick. She could handle it.

Jester stood at the front of the wagon and watched the ground move as she prepared to do something phenomenally stupid. Swallowing her fear, she jumped over the side of the wagon. She managed to land on her feet, but the momentum caused her to stumble and fall.

"Aw, man," she complained loudly, mostly so the others would know she wasn't badly hurt.

"Please don't do that again!" Fjord said from his spot at the front of the wagon. "At least, not without warning me first."

"Sorry!" Jester looked at the dust on her palms. Satisfied that she wasn't bleeding, she wiped them off on her dress.

"Here." Yasha's imposing silhouette blocked out the sun. She extended a hand to Jester and helped her to her feet.

"Thanks, Yasha!" Jester fell into step beside her. "I don't know what I thought was going to happen, but I was hoping it would be cooler than that."

Yasha laughed, but her gaze seemed far away. "Maybe Beau can teach you some tricks."

"Sounds fun!" Beau shouted from the far side of the wagon.

Jester shouted back and soon she and Beau were having a loud conversation about the proper form and practical applications of a forward roll.

She got so wrapped up in it that she didn't even notice when Yasha disappeared from her periphery. It was only when Caleb politely asked them to stop shouting (followed by a less polite request from Nott) that Jester looked around and realized that Yasha had fallen behind.

She was trailing several feet behind the wagon, her feet dragging in the dust and her head lowered.

Jester jogged back to her. "Hey, Yasha! Are you okay?"

Yasha's eyes were hazy, unfocused. She looked at Jester helplessly. "I'll be okay."

"What's wrong?" The wagon was pulling farther away from them but Jester paid it no mind. "Your face is all red. Are you sick?" She stood on her tiptoes and cupped a hand to Yasha's forehead. "Yasha!" she gasped, half-scandalized. "Did you know you have a fever?"

"I do?" Yasha slumped forward suddenly, like the realization had taken her strength away. "I don't get sick."

"Everybody gets sick," Jester said. She smoothed a few errant locks of hair out of Yasha's face. "Oh, poor Yasha."

"I really don't," Yasha said, her brow knit in confusion. "Not like this."

"You've really never had a fever before?"

Yasha shook her head.

"That's okay, I'll look after you!" Jester said. Then her head snapped up. "Oh. Shit." She screwed up her face in concentration. "Hey, Fjord! Stop the wagon for a second! Me and Yasha got behind. We're fine though, don't worry. We'll be right there. How many words was that?"

"I wasn't counting."

"Yeah, me either." Jester shrugged. "Well, they stopped. Can you walk? 'Cause I bet I can totally carry you."

"I can walk."

The others were waiting for them expectantly, varying degrees of concern on their faces.

"We're fine!" Jester said, making shooing gestures. "We're just going to ride in the back for a bit. Okay?" This last word was directed at Caleb and Nott, who had been riding nestled amongst their supplies.

"Ja, that's fine." Caleb shrugged and invited Nott to scurry up onto his shoulders.

"Okay, come on, Yasha." Jester helped her climb into the back. The she popped her head out from behind the cover. "Okay, stop staring already! We're fine. Let's go."

"O-kay?" Fjord started to walk back around to the front. "Beau, want to ride with me for a bit?"

"Sure." Beau kept casting curious looks at Jester, but she went with Fjord. The wagon started to move again and Jester turned back to face Yasha.

"Okay, I'll get you all taken care of, I promise."

"Thanks," Yasha said, looking a touch awkward. "I'm not really sure what to do."

"Well for starters," Jester dug through their supplies and pulled out her bedroll, then Yasha's. "I'm going to make you the comfiest little nest ever." She arranged the blankets and pillows to her liking and motioned for Yasha to lie down. "Umm, let's see. Are you hot? Your face is really red."

"Yes," Yasha said immediately. Her skin felt overheated and irritated. Even the texture of the blankets was almost painful on her bare arms.

"Okay, hang on." Jester started to go through her pockets, eventually producing a small scrap of cloth.

Yasha watched as Jester carefully poured some water over it. "What's that for?"

"It's going to go on your forehead," Jester explained. "Like this." She leaned over and carefully draped the wet cloth over Yasha's brow. "Lie back or it will fall off."

"Oh," Yasha said as immediate, blissful relief washed over her.

"I wish I had another one for the back of your neck," Jester said thoughtfully. "Maybe Caleb has a handkerchief in one of his 600 pockets."

"Jester," Yasha took her hand. "This is. Wonderful. Thank you." No one, not even Molly, not even Zuala, had taken care of her like this. It was almost overwhelming. "Really, thank you."

"It's nothing," Jester said, not looking Yasha in the eye. A deep purple brush was beginning to creep up her neck. "Um, anyway, do you want to sleep now?"

"I don't know." Yasha stretched as much as she could in the confines of the cart. "I'm tired, but not that kind of tired."

"How about I tell you a story? I can tell you all about Princess Fancybottom, the most beautiful, well-endowed princess in the whole world."

Yasha smiled. "That would be nice, Jester. You can-- You can lie down next to me if you want."

"Okay." Jester nodded, satisfied. "Close your eyes so you can really picture the story, okay?"

"That's a good idea, actually. I'm probably way colder than you are." Jester scooted in next to Yasha, settling in so their arms touched. "Ooh, you are warm. Let me know if you start to feel worse, okay?"

"I will."

Yasha closed her eyes. Jester began her tale of Princess Fancybottom as the cart rolled along the simple dirt path.

Yasha knew that the world was full of dangers and discomforts that she would eventually have to face, but in this moment, all she felt was safe.