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somewhere-in-wales · 2 months

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What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

#good omens #staged #ineffable husbands #michael sheen and david tennant #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #my fic #good omens fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #david tennant

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tainted-heartz · 1 year

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HEYYEEEYEY ITS MYSTERY PERSON AGAIN (yk at this point its always a wally x reader🧍‍♀️ANYWAYS-)

Ok so what if it was another sunrise (again😔) Y/N WAKES UP AND OPENS THERE EYES AND SAW THAT WALLY WAS A HUAMN AND SHOOK WALLY AWAKE "WALLY WAKE TF UP" SO they (*cough*finally*cough*)woke wally up and he was confused like "mf I love you but it's 6 IN THE MOR-" then he saw y/n as a puppet AND look down at his hands to see that he was human and was like "istg ima kill someon-" BUT FINALLY THEY BOTH CALM DOWN AND GET READY FOR THE DAY AND THEY TRY TO TEACH EACHOTHER HOW THE HUMAN/PUPPET BODY WORKS AND ECT, AND ALSO LWTS JUST SAY WALLY WAS (finally 😥) TALLER THEN Y/N!!

(Also another sence that wally puts y/n on a high place where they couldn't get down he walked away whistling and while y/n on the other hand was cussing wally out telling him to put her down👁👁 also the neighborhood heard y/n yelling)

| THIS IS A SILLY IDEA DEAR LORD U KEEP GIVING ME SILLY IDEAS AND I LOVE IT MYSTERIOUS PERSON THIS IS GONNA BE A LIL LONG SO ENJOY!!(and once again using an older image of wallys human ver clown made) |

- it was a normal morning , or well at least you thought till you sat up and stretched. your body felt more..plush like? you shrugged it off till when you looked at wally he was human. that wasn't normal , of course it wasn't- you sat there for a minute before gently shaking wally. “ wally. wally darling wake UP. ” wally mumbled and swatted your hand away. “ dearest , I need my beauty sleep why are you bugging me at such an early hou- ” as he turned to look at you well..you weren't how he remembered you looked before. he hoped this was a dream till you spoke again. “ a-..and you're human as well. oh god why me of all people! ” you hopped out of bed only to fall RIGHT on your face.

- wally panicked and slowly sat up and made his way over to you to help you up. “ dearest , I may have to tell you that puppet bodies just feel lighter..you have to get used to it. ” “ how are you so calm about this! you're TALLER than me now it's not even fair! ” “ oh it's very much fair..I'm in denial. ” he said with a smile. “ plus this may be a one day thing , like a small curse you could say. just curious why it has to be us. ” wally said as he lifted you up off the ground. “ wally , I'm not a baby. ”

- “ oh but dearest you'll walk around like a newborn if I let you walk around anymore till we get ready. ” he sat at his vanity , placing you down on his lap. “ we can get ready like this. ” this was almost humiliating but you guessed this is how wally felt the various times you'd picked him up and even embarrassed him. you can't tell how wally felt about being human but you could tell he was still getting used to not feeling light.

- “ ..you look very different , dearest. it's not a terrible strange I just can't help how your hair looks now. ” wally said with giggle as he looked down at you. “ oh shut up , at least mine doesn't look like a cinnamon roll. ” you rolled your eyes and reached over to grab your hairbrush but every time you brushed it or tried to style it , it would just pop right back into place. after a few attempts you merely gave up on styling your hair and watched wally style his.

- “ puppet hair isn't the same as human hair , y/n. I hope you're aware. ” “ I am now. ” you mumbled and were lifted up and held again as wally stood up. “ oh well..you can pick out your outfit and such for the day. I need to see what it's like to eat. ” he placed you down and left you to your own devices.. of course he'd go see what it's like to eat normally.

- you were getting used to walking by now , a few stumbles here and there but once you were in the living room you didn't see wally about anywhere. you felt like a damned parent having to look after their child. “ wally , where did you even go? ” “ kitchen , dear. ” peeking into the kitchen you noticed he was just..sitting there and reading a newspaper. it was weird how he wasn't acting like anything was different. he'd even changed into his normal attire without your knowledge. “ oh and dearest , you sadly can't eat. we don't really have stomachs. ” “ you don't have teeth either , of COURSE I CANT EAT! ” “ don't raise your voice or I'll put you in time out. ” “ time OUT? oh I'd love to see you try- ”

- wally placed the newspaper down and grabbed you by your waist , lifting you off the ground. you squirmed but were placed on top of the fridge , wally just smiling at you. “ now I won't let being a human stop me from finishing that painting poppy wanted..love you dearest! ” “ IF YOU LOVED ME YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE ME UP HE- and you're gone. cool. ” you sigh then resorted to talking with home. “ ..home , can you irritate him for me? ” squeakkkk. “ thank you. ” it was enjoyable to hear wally yell about his paint spilling but knowing you'd have to stay this way for the rest of the day wasn't too bad. you hoped at least.

#welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home arg x reader #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home wally x reader

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zoeykallus · 1 year

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN! I know it's your birthday and you will probably not write anything today, but let me suggest something topic related for another time maybe? You said you are having a bad time recently and I thought, why not make a one-shot with your fave clone, some birthday hurt and comfort? Maybe it helps you to feel better about what's going on? Love and best wishes!

Aaawww, Thank you! Oh wow, you are really calling me out right here 😅 But you know what? You might be right about this. Sorry to everyone else who have to wait a bit longer for their requests. Today is my day after all, right? 😅 Okay, here goes nothing...

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to indulge myself 😅

The Bad Batch (Tech) x F!Reader - The Birthday Misery

Stress/Comfort/Generic Happy Ending/Fluff

_________________

The last weeks were exhausting, many things went wrong, things broke that had to be replaced quickly. Everything that can go wrong is going wrong to your left and right. Your salary is practically gone at the beginning of the month. Today is your birthday, and you haven't said anything to anyone, at least not to your new colleagues. Your old ones live way too far away anyway. You can't invite anyone, there's no money. You don't even have a cake or anything decent to eat in the house, no drinks to toast with, not even coffee. With a heavy sigh, you look at the clock and drink the tea you just brewed, because you don't feel like drinking tap water anymore. You hate these months when it feels like you're working for nothing, because you're getting absolutely nothing from the credits you earned, not even on your birthday. You hope Wrecker is kind enough to offer you some of his rations again, what you have in the house has to last at least two more weeks and is actually not even enough for one, if at all. But it's not just the money or the fact that you didn't eat properly in a week, it's the stress that makes you lose sleep, all the things that go sideways, and it feels you are alone with all that's on your mind. Putting on your gear, you make your way to the hangar where the Marauder is. You don't talk to Cid about a raise, that didn't work last time. When you see Tech standing by the ship, you smile, you are always happy to see him. You try to suppress your stomach growl with sheer willpower, you are embarrassed and don't want Tech to hear it. When he looks up and looks at you, you feel warm, but then your stomach growls again, and you fake a cough to drown it out. "Hi Tech." "Hello, dear. Are you not feeling well?" You blink, then realize he's referring to the cough. "No, I'm fine, just a dry throat." You almost jump out of your boots in shock when Hunter suddenly addresses you from the side, you didn't even see him before. "Have you had breakfast?" Several cogs mesh in your head. You know Hunter has very good hearing, and the coughing probably didn't fool him.

„Um, didn't have time, I'm afraid I overslept". Tech frowns and says, "You shouldn't go to work on an empty stomach" "I um-" Before you can reply anything, you hear Cid's voice, "There's the birthday girl." The next moment, her hand falls heavily on your shoulder. You want to sink into the ground, you don't need this attention right now, you can't celebrate either, you don't even have credits for a decent meal. "Birthday?" asks Tech quietly, looking confused. Hunter grins at you and pats you on the shoulder as well. "Happy birthday, ad'ika!" You feel uncomfortable, but force yourself to smile and thank him, before hastily distracting yourself by starting to load the Marauders with the goods that need to be delivered. Tech joins you and lends a hand. More or less casually, he asks, "Are you celebrating your birthday?" This is not a conversation you really wanted to engage in. "Um, no, not this year" "Why not? This would be the first year you've celebrated with us" Evasively, you say, "But I have to work today." "But tonight is your night off" he remarks matter-of-factly. With a sigh, you say, "I'll probably be tired." For a brief moment, Tech thinks and is silent, but then he says, "I'm sure my brothers would love to toast you as much as I would. Isn't that what people do?" His question is innocent and perfectly legitimate, but you feel pressured and retort, "I can't do that" "Why not?"

You set the box you were about to pick up back down with a deep sigh and say, "Please don't tell the others, but I can't even afford the breakfast caf right now. So I can't buy a round on my birthday" Tech blinks again, then reaches into a pocket on his belt. "I could-" "No, Tech, that's sweet of you, but you don't have to" "I know but-" You put your hand on his to stop him from getting credits out of the pocket, gently but firmly. You kiss his cheek and say softly, "That's incredibly sweet of you, but I'd just rather we forget about it, okay?" Tech hesitates, his cheeks blushing a little. You realize you've never been this close to him before. "Well, if that's your wish," he finally says, giving in to you. A little unsure, you say, "Sorry about the kiss, I didn't mean to cross any lines I-" "It's okay, it didn't bother me.... on the contrary" You smile shyly at each other before you both dive back into work to distract yourselves.

You are shaky and tired as you make your way to your apartment in the evening. You're shaky because you're lacking nutrients, you haven't eaten anything all day except for a protein bar, and yet you've been working hard. When the batch had already finished work, you did a few small errands for Cid, today of all days. Outside your apartment, however, you encounter something unexpected. Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo and Crosshair are standing there, each of them having filled bags which contents you can't immediately recognize. "Hey ad'ika!" exclaims Wrecker with a laugh, "You're slow today!" Puzzled, you ask, "What are you all doing here?" "We came to celebrate your birthday," Echo says, holding up one of the bags, "We brought drinks and food. We thought that you would be happy about it" Your heart does a little leap, you get all warm and a little dizzy too. You look from one to the other. "You brought things?" "Of course, the birthday girl is getting spoiled today," Hunter says with a grin. Crosshair grumbles, "Don't look at me, I was forced to come here". You can't help but laugh at his dry comment. "I actually believe you," you say, amused, but with a reproving look at Tech you say, "Didn't I ask you not to tell anyone?" As your stomach growls loudly again, Tech says, "We should go inside and eat something" "Yeah, let's make a base for the Spotchka," Wrecker rumbles happily. Tech has come up with something nice, a tabletop grill on which everyone can make their own food while sitting around it in a convivial circle. Fish, meat, vegetables and fruit, the guys have brought of course also dips and sauces. Echo and Tech shoo you out of your own kitchen to prepare the ingredients for the table grill and distribute them in bowls. As you're about to at least set the table, Wrecker grabs you by the shoulders and gently but firmly shoves you into a chair. "You wait here until everything is ready," he says with a wink. "Um... okay, cool." You grin inanely to yourself the whole time, you can't quite grasp what's happening here yet, but it feels great. The guys are just wonderful. What you thought was going to be the worst birthday in a long time turns into the best birthday of your life so far.

You all eat together, you have not been so full for a long time. After that, plenty of Spotchka flows, dirty jokes are told and board games and card games are unpacked. You haven't laughed so much in a long time.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@starwarsnerd111

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miamierre · 10 months

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"You're being particularly annoying." For Piarles <3

Pierre is still a lump on the couch when Charles pads back into the living room, partially-peeled banana in hand. Of course the only time his boyfriend knows when to get sick is during summer break--the too-short month of reprieve that they can never seem to spend properly year after year. Last year, Charles got sunburnt so badly during the week he'd gone off to Brazil on his yacht that he'd been untouchable for five whole days: Pierre had spent a majority of the first few rubbing aloe all over him and keeping him perched in front of the window AC unit.

This year, apparently, Pierre has the flu and has been pretty firmly rooted to the couch in his Milan apartment for the last 15 hours.

Charles tries to tiptoe his way over to the coffee table to leave the banana for Pierre whenever he wakes up, but his weight lands wrong on one of the creakier floorboards, and sure enough--

"Charles?" Pierre sounds groggy and disoriented as he lurches awake, blankets half thrown off him only to reveal just how sweaty his bare chest is.

It would probably be sexier if Charles weren't so concerned with keeping him from, you know, dying. "Hey," Charles says soothingly, striding the rest of the way to Pierre's side. He sinks to his knees and uses his free hand to push Pierre back into sleeping posture. "It's okay, Pear. Go back to sleep, I've got a banana for you when you feel like eating." He's not going to force the issue right now, since Pierre hadn't been able to keep the rice from earlier down: fluids are the priority, and his glass of water is mostly drained, which is good. Charles rests the banana on the table and picks the glass up, beginning to push back to his feet--

"Charlo," Pierre groans, reaching for the closest part of Charles he can find. His hand is too-hot as it grasps his bicep firmly. It makes Charles shiver.

"I'm here, petit. What is it?"

Pierre groans again, softer this time. "Your hand..." he lets go of Charles' arm only to tap insistently at his wrist, jostling the cool glass he's holding. "Looks cold." He sighs, then releases Charles only to flop backwards, a little dramatically, onto the couch. He watches as Pierre's eyes flutter closed, like he's going to fall asleep, but doesn't do anything until one eye cracks open. Waiting. Charles wants to laugh at how far he regresses whenever he's mildly inconvenienced like this--although, realistically he probably doesn't have a whole lot of room to talk himself.

"Yeah," he murmurs instead, setting the glass back down. He sits at the edge of the cushion and presses his hand, wet from condensation, to Pierre's forehead. (Which--he's still feverish. Maybe he'll need the thermometer again this evening after all.) "Here, P. Like that?" The rumbly noise Pierre makes in response is all he needs. "I have you, squid." Charles sits there for a few moments longer, then collects more of the condensation on his palm again and reapplies his hand. Pierre sighs. "Maybe we can get you into a cold shower soon, hm?"

At that, the Frenchman groans. "Later," is his response, followed by "don't wanna move" in that petulant whine Pierre always uses when he's trying to keep Charles in bed. It always annoys him a little--but today, at least, he'll cut his boyfriend some slack.

"Okay, Pierre," he hums, removing his hand once more. The glass isn't nearly as cool anymore, likely from the heat of his palm, so Charles grabs it once again and moves to head back to the kitchen for a refill. When he stands, though, Pierre whines again, then coughs and tries to re-pitch it as a groan. Idiot, he thinks lovingly. "What is it?"

Pierre pouts. "Don't go," he mumbles, reaching for him again as if he's not just standing upright beside the couch. "Please, Charlie."

Charles can't stop the laugh that slips out. "Pierre, my love," he hums, squatting back down to be eye-level with Pierre, "I have to go get you more water, and probably more paracetamol. I'm not going anywhere." But the pout settled on Pierre's lips seems to only get deeper upon explanation. "Pear."

"Pleaseeeeee," Pierre groans. "You are the only medicine I neeeeeed."

"Said like a man who ignores his trainer even better than he drives." He gets a cough-giggle from his patient, at least: Charles ignores the next pitiful moan and speeds to Pierre's kitchenette, where he grabs the paracetamol from where he'd left it on the countertop and then refills the glass with ice and water. (Sure, Pierre is annoyingly clingy when he's sick, but...Charles can't help but enjoy it at least a little. An unabashedly-snuggly Pierre is such a rare occurrence that Charles sometimes forgets how insufferable he gets when he's under the weather.) Now properly armed, he makes his way back into the living room, where...Pierre is flopped out again, eyes closed and mouth open. He's breathing (Charles checks every time) and he's got the blankets mostly up over his chest, so he must've just fallen back asleep.

Probably for the better. It's not going to get any easier, maneuvering him into his bathroom for a shower, but if he's gotten enough sleep, he'll be fine for the ten or so minutes it'll take for Charles to scrub him down.

"Rest up," he murmurs as he returns to Pierre's orbit. He sets the water glass down alongside the little orange tablets and sinks to his knees once more, just to press a kiss to Pierre's sweaty, kind-of-cooled forehead--

Only for Pierre's arms to fly out and grab hold of him, surprising him thoroughly as he tugs Charles onto the couch on top of him. Charles doesn't even have a chance to put up a fight from the shock. "Ha-ha!" His laugh is honking and loud and right in Charles' ear. "I have you, cheri."

"Pi-erre," he groans in response, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself from the mess of blankets and limbs that Pierre is now attempting to cocoon him in. "Come on, you need to rest--"

"Shush," Pierre interrupts, matter-of-factly. "I sleep best when you are with me, Cha, you know that." There's that whine again. "You got me my paracetamol, and my water, and now you can be my medicine." His arms tighten around Charles' torso, and Charles just sighs, knowing he can't really wrestle his boyfriend without doing more damage.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you, you know," he mutters instead, shifting so that he's no longer crushing Pierre under his bodyweight but now tucked firmly into the space between Pierre's feverish body and the back cushions of the couch. "Can't do that here."

"Mmmm," Pierre answers, clumsily stretching his tangle of blankets so it covers the both of them, "you are taking care of me just fine here, mon ange." One arm drapes over him. "See? Medicine."

But he's too warm to cuddle comfortably with the blankets, and Charles knows he's going to have to worm his way out of this one eventually because he will, in fact, have to actually get Pierre to take the pills sitting on the table. "You're being particularly annoying," he says under his breath as Pierre tugs him closer.

The sentiment just gets him a rumbly laugh in return.

#piarles #10 x 16 #fic #babyierre incapable of being mildly inconvenienced (under the weather) is something we as a society should explore imo #doting boyfriend charles is going to lovingly threaten to smother him with pillows at some point during this timeframe #hashtag love languages<3 #ty for the prompt my darlin!!!!!!#romance meme #ask reply #Anonymous

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the0ldmann · 2 years

Text

My brain refused to let me sleep for a whole goshdarn HOUR last night because it *really* wanted me to write this.

So I've spent the whole day off-n-on working on this. I tried to follow through with showing his more manipulative yandere side, but idk if I actually did all that well at it...

Enjoy this late-night sleepytime brain worm anyway! ^w^

-----

"Sunshine, I need you. To quit. Squirming." Jack spoke through grunts as he tried to wrestle their phone from them. His Sunspot was being very uncooperative and he just needed them to stop and listen.

"I know you want to listen, love. Please, just stop struggling and hand me the phone. I wouldn't be able to hold you down right now if you didn't really want me to take it from you. So please Sunshine, just hand-"

Their pouty face hurt his heart to see as he succeeded, but it was for the best he reminded himself.

"There we go!" He sighed. Letting go of them, he motioned for them to stay where they were as he proceed to get up and hide that little black object.

If it wasn't necessary for their work, he'd just break the stupid thing. One less distraction away from him. One less way for others to try and take them away...

"I know you're not happy about this, I know. But we need to talk. One on one- no distractions and no interruptions."

"I could have just turned it off."

"And no temptations." He stressed temptations as he sat down beside them on the couch. They sat up, rolling their eyes and crossing their arms.

"Alright," they said with a huff. "What is it that's so important you had to take my phone away?"

"You of course, and the fact that you," he put a hand on one of their arms before he continued, "have not been taking proper care of yourself!"

"Oh, pfft, is that all?"

Jack looked mildly frustrated.

"Must I make it clearer how serious I am?"

"Look, Jack, I know how you worry about me a lot, but I'm fine. Really!" They tried to pass off the slight cough that cut them off as intentional throat clearing.

"You've been overworking yourself to the point of making yourself sick, you hardly eat or sleep, and you only recently got over the cold a coworker gave you!"

"I never caught that cold-" A more noticeable coughing fit cut them off and Jack looked wholly unconvinced.

"My point exactly. If you keep going like you have been this past month, you're going to burn out and potentially have an accident. I can't sit idly by and watch you hurt yourself like this!"

Silence was all that met him as they looked away. He could tell they were starting to face the music- the fact that he is right.

"W-well, okay, maybe you are right. I haven't been able to spend much time with you lately either. But what am I supposed to do? The bills won't pay themselves..."

"First off, you've got more money than you think. Secondly, if you're willing, we can make a budget. I'll even help you stick to it."

"Helping me stick to things is one thing you are pretty good at."

"See? Look, you don't have to figure this stuff out alone. I know you stress about money a lot, but at least let me try to help you. It's the least I can do since I can't make money myself, yeah?"

They nodded. Accepting help from him in the form of housework, companionship, and daily reminders had been okay and quite natural to do even. What's one more thing? He was willingly offering to help them budget- something they weren't good at not freaking themselves out about. Jack's help could be the difference they needed in getting their finances- and their work life balance- under control.

"Yeah, I... I think I would like help with that, actually."

"Thank you for trusting me, Sunshine. I promise you, we're going to figure this out. Together. However the budget making can wait until tomorrow."

They quirked an eyebrow up at his words.

"Tomorrow? What are we doing now then? It's still only eleven in the morning. Am I getting my phone back?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at their confusion.

"Oh no, we're not doing anything today beyond making sure you get rest. Playing on your phone is not rest, so you'll be getting that back tomorrow."

"But-"

"No but about it! Besides, maybe I'd like to take care of you. Bundle you up in a blanket with a piping hot bowl of soup. Spend that time talking with you..."

They couldn't lie, that did sound nice. It'd been so long since they last got sick, it'd been awhile since they let anyone just take over for them.

"Can I make one request?"

"Is it about the phone?"

"Nope."

"Then go ahead!"

Something told them Jack wouldn't mind, but they still felt a little embarrassed asking anyway.

"Instead of a blanket, can I... can I wear your jacket?"

Jack smiled and ruffled their hair. He shrugged off the jacket and placed it around their shoulders.

"You look so cute in it Sunshine... Now sit tight and let me go get you that soup!"

#minors dni #two little drabbles? back to back?!#what kind of black magic fuckery is this!#normally it takes me forever to get an idea...#i also had another brain worm but that one was for an ORIGINAL project so it will not be posted here but holy hell i am full of-#-inspiration and idk if i should be happy or scared #sunny day jack #yandere #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj #swwsdj

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criminalskies · 8 months

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Rome it’s Royalty!Hotch anon! Just another thought but what about WW2!Aaron?!?! Imagine him in the uniform 🤤

Maybe reader is a nurse (and is secretly siblings with someone in his unit) and they meet at a field hospital when he gets injured? And they fall in love but Aaron ends up leaving before he asks her for her address to write letters!! And he’s all 😭 and is super mopey and heartbroken and everyone (BAU!Squad) teases him?? Especially reader’s sibling who sees how happy they make one another!

Then D-Day happens and Aaron is home! he sees reader’s sibling during the celebrations and is shocked they’re in the same place but but but READER COMES OUT FROM BEHIND and Aaron is all 😭 and hugs reader sooooo hard. And hotch is like how u related and how u get here while reader and sibling are all 😂

And then Aaron and reeder live happily ever rafter

Hi baby! I'm glad to see you back in my inbox again with your big beautiful brainstorm ideas! WW2!Aaron fully makes me think of his character in shadow wolves lmao

I feel like if he's in combat tho off getting injured you're thinking of younger aaron so I'm envisioning himmmmmmmm okay got him.

Reader patching him up and probably seeming so nervous so he's nervous thinking maybe she doesn't know what she's doing but she does a great job! and then seems even more nervous just talking to him after so she can fill out her reports. I'm picturing like a little chest wound just so reader can drool over him. shirtless and have to lean in oh-so-close to his face. Baby aaron would be so hot and flustered and he doesn't know if it's the adrenaline or the local anaesthetics making him feel a little loopy but when he's looking at her he's just so desperate to pull her in for a big kiss.

But he's a gentlemen, so instead he just takes his fate like a real man (he pretends to have a bad cough so he has to stay for a few days observation and keep getting to know reader. When he finally gets cleared to return to basecamp he's just devastated he's not going to get to see her pretty face all day every day so he thinks the least he can do is try to keep in touch. Not to mention how he becomes just riddled with worry for her because she's still in an active warzone, and he can barely sleep if he thinks too much on the fact that he can't keep her safe. But alas, the best way for him to keep her safe is to win this war.

Of course, his buddies come to visit him in the little makeshift hospital when they can, and he's not feverish but oh boy do they see him turn red whenever you come into his room to check up on him. Morgan and Prentiss are quick to tease their commander about his little crush. Rossi genuinely thinks Hotch might end up *trying* to trip himself over in the field just so he can split his face open and have you fix it. Reader's sibling writes Hotch letters wishing him well since they can't be there to see him in-person, they're tied up in meetings trying to fill his shoes while he's hospitalised. He's very grateful to them for their help.

Also i'm such a slut for angst right now so what if hotch actually gets reader's address wrong so the poor man is writing these letters and writing and writing until one day they're all returned to sender in a bundle, and he's devastated. He doesn't know how to contact reader. Then, comes D-Day and his whole troop is sent home to virginia, including reader's sibling, who remarks their sister is gonna be waiting for them. Hotch solemnly admits he has no-one waiting for him :( but all in all he's still overjoyed the war is over, life can start up again as normal. BUT!!!!! when he and the troop set foot on the tarmac on home soil, and reader's sister comes running to hug her sibling, hotch's face lights up and he actually thinks his heart may stop. He doesn't know now how he didn't notice the resemblance between you and his best friend of years. Reader is quick to spot him, too. Pulling him into the tightest of hugs, as aaron finally forgets about the bundle of letters in his luggage that he was going to try to re-send to any and all similar address names in the country. The team are of course all whooping and hollering at the sight of their boss-man all red in the face because he got a hug from the girl of his dreams.

ahhhhhh your mind is so brilliant sweet anon!!!! thank you again for sharing this idea with me! it's really lovely.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner headcanons #rome's got mail!#anon mail!

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r0-boat · 2 years

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I am sick right now. Mostly soreness and stuff. And I have a feeling that if Volo really cared for the reader despite refusing to admit it, he’d kinda slip up and be the mother hen type. Like refuses to admit he’s concerned at all but his expressions betray him and he forces you to rest and stay hydrated and stuff. Can I get some content on what he would do? (Bonus points if reader asks if they can fuck when she’s better lmao🐶)

To be honest saying I also feel pretty sick

I tried to aim for something more wholesome if you don't mind

Volo with a sick reader

Laventon and Cyllene went to go check on you when you didn't show up for morning training. To find your body still in your futon your forehead was hot.

"Miss I swear I'll be fine in a few days this isn't necessary," you say but Cyllene would not hear it. Diseases can lead to death if not treated well and she could be damned if you took this fate

So there you were wrestling on your futon bored, feeling like shit, tapping the screen of your arc phone home trying to see if Arceus still left any of its old apps or at least some internet connection.

The door to your house jiggles before sliding open. Volo ducks he's helping your door slamming his massive backpack down to the side.

He shuffles in his backpack taking out various powders and oils. Oh no. This is what you were afraid of. Back in your time at least they made medicine tasteless or candy-coated. But with the powdery medicine hisui has no safeguard for the bitter taste. And not to mention your relationship right now with Volo is um... Complicated?

"Volo, I didn't ask for help" you coughed clearing your throat afterward. " im not helping you... I'm testing out new medicines that are going on sale soon as well as Cogita's home remedies. Your Galaxy grunts told me that you were dying so I came to use you as a test subject" he's smirked.

You tried to get up wanting to yell at him but nothing but coughing came from your throat. Volo's smirk fades immediately " hey, hey, hey! Take it easy. Come on, lay back down, Save your strength"

Yeah testing medicine my ass. But you didn't press on it further.

You watch as Volo takes a glass of water to pour and mix a powdery medicine. You couldn't help but feel warm inside knowing that Volo still cares about you. Even after what happened.

He sits the cup down next to you. "Here try this one." His voice was softer than before "it's an old Celestic medicine, it helps soothe the throat. I'm warning you now it tastes very bitter so drink it fast." You nod preparing yourself mentally before downing the whole cup. To your surprise, your throat feels less inflamed.

He stayed with you the entire day trying to out medicine. Leaving only to come back with food "you need to eat." He says getting more agitated "please, you need to regain your strength" ugh he's starting to sound like your mom now.

By the end of the day, you're exhausted drifting off into sleep. Volo can't help but smile at your sleeping form deciding to stay just a little bit longer. Not like he was planning on leaving when you're still sick.

#pokemon legends #volo legends arceus #volo x reader #pla volo

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rainydaymiscellaneous · 1 year

Text

Sick Day (Xavier x Fem!reader)

Summary: you become sick after falling into the lake during the poe cup. Your boyfriend takes care of you.

Warnings: sickness, throwing up, swearing

That poe cup. That god damn poe cup. You hated that you got roped into that fucking competition to begin with. It didn't help that your canoe sank and you were ice cold by the time the competition was over. Xavier noticed you shivering on the docks, grabbing his dry jacket from his back and wrapping it around you.

"It's so fucking cold" you whined. He chuckled, kissing your forehead. "Your facepaint is wearing off by the way." You said, helping him with his smudged eye paint. He rolled his eyes and you sneezed. He frowned. "You're not getting sick are you?" He asked. "I'm sure I'm just cold- ACHOO!" You sneezed out.

Just cold. Right. "Just cold" turned into the flu. Xavier didn't realize you were sick until you weren't by his side in Thornhill's class. "Has anyone seen Miss Y/n?" She asked. "She's sick with the flu." Odelia, your roommate answered. "Oh! Oh no, I hope she feels better." Thornhill said. She noticed the look on Xavier's face. "...Mister Thorpe, if you'd like to check on her-" that was all he needed to hear, him leaving almost immediately.

He gathered things from the pantry. Saltines, chicken noodle soup, sprite... things that would make you feel comfortable. He knocked on your door and he heard a congested "I promise I'm fine Miss Weems" before the door opened. You blinked. "Xay?" You asked. He held up the bowl of soup and you opened the door for him to come in. He sat down his things, you sitting on your bed as Xavier pulled your desk chair to your bedside. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting sick?" He asked. "Dunno... I honestly thought it was allergies. They usually flare up around this time." You admitted. He put his hand to your forehead. "You're hot." He noticed. "No you are." You joked. He rolled his eyes. "Lay down baby. Get some rest." He said. "I've been sleeping all day.. I'm not really tired." You admitted.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Anything I've eaten won't stay down." You sighed, flopping onto the bed. He nudged the sprite he got for you on your nightstand. You took it. "You shouldn't be here. You'll get sick." You said. "Someone's got to take care of you." He said. You sighed. "You took a covid test?" He asked. "Weems made me take three." You said. "Negative?" "Yep." You said. "Well that's good at least. I remember when I got it last year I fucking hated it. Couldn't taste anything for a while." He said. You opened your mouth to speak but halted, grabbing your trashcan and throwing up instead.

Xavier picked up your wrist, pulling a hair tie from it and pulled back your hair as you lingered over the garbage can. "I hate my life at this moment." You whined. "It'll be okay..." he soothed. "I feel like shit." "I know baby." "And the worst part? I need a shower. I don't want to walk." You whined. "Well, I can't exactly help you there. But if we get you a mask I'm sure Odette would help." He said. "Or ask me." Yoko said, standing in the doorway.

You looked over. "Hi Yoko." You greeted. "You need help?" She asked. "Please." You nodded. "I got her. Try to clean up her... nest... she's made." Yoko said, helping you up.

Xavier cleaned up, throwing away tissues and empty nyquil packets. He even went as far as to change your sheets, ensuring you'd be comfortable. Yoko brought you back, you walking back in a hoodie of Xavier's. You laid down, sighing. "I'm missing so much school work right now." You said. "Worry about that later... right now you should hydrate." He said, pulling out a water bottle. "Thanks Xay." You said. "You're welcome sweetheart" he said, getting up. "Don't go." You said. He turned. "I don't want to be alone..." you admitted. He sat back down. "I'm not going anywhere. Not when you need me." He said, holding your hand. You smiled slightly at him before coughing.

As the day carried on, he ended up laying next to you, watching movies on his laptop while you tried to recover. Day after day, he was there taking care of you. You were surprised he didn't get sick but he would sit by your bedside drawing while you slept. He'd bring you food, he'd help you walk if you needed to...

You were reading in bed, him drawing next to you. "Hey, Xavier?" You asked. Your use of his full name got his attention, him looking up. "Yes Y/n?" He asked, letting you know you had his full attention. "I love you. You know that right?" You asked. It was the first either of you had said that out loud. Through text? Yeah. Out loud was another story.

He smiled, kissing your knuckles. "I love you too Y/n."

#xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine

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deliciousartfox · 6 months

Text

Octonauts: Demon slayer au

Story I posted on Wattpad but wanted to share on here as well so here's the story and I hope you like it :)

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕?

"Orson," a lady called out to her son. The boy, Orson, was preparing to head down the mountain to sell coal to the village.

"Your face is all black. Come over here. Because it's risky when it snows, it's alright if you don't go," the lady said while wiping her son's face. It was near New Year, and Orson wanted to sell some coal so they could have a feast

"I'll only go sell a little bit,"

"... Thank you," The door opened from the inside, and a girl, similar to the boy in both age and appearance, spoke up.

"Brother! Are you going to the village today? Let me come too!" Before she could step out, her mother(the lady) scolded her.

" No. You are ill and are in no condition to go out with your brother."

"But I feel better now, I can -" Before she could finish, her mother cut her off.

"No, Ursa, you were vomiting 2 days ago, and just yesterday you were coughing and sneezing left and right. You are staying home with me and your siblings."

"I'll buy you candy while I'm out Ursa, so just stay home and rest okay," Orson said while trying to convince his twin sister to stay home. After some bargaining, he left saying goodbye to his sister and mother.

Life wasn't easy, but it was a blessing. But, concerning life, it is like looking at the sky. It changes and moves because there aren't times when it stays clear for a long time. There also aren't times when it snows for a long time. Thus times when happiness is broken, there is always the scent of blood.

" Well, if it isn't Orson," a woman commented. Orson was prominent in his town, along with his family. They were known for helping people, and for working hard, there is not one person who hasn't at least heard of them.

"You came down from the mountain on a day like this, good work, but you'll catch a cold like this."

"I want to buy some charcoal!"

"Thank you for fixing up my door for me!"

"I also want to buy some charcoal!"

"AHHHHHHH ORSON I'M GLAD YOU'RE HERE. CAN YOU TELL WHO BROKE THESE DISHES? PLEASE SMELL THESE!" Being a hard worker isn't the only thing Orson is known for. Orson is also known for having a strong, sensitive nose; They say he can smell anything from 20 miles away, maybe more if he pushes. Orson leans forward and takes a sniff of the broken plate.

"It smells like a cat,"

"Eh, a cat?"

"SEE I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T ME!!!!!!!!!!!"

The sun was setting, and the vibrant hues of red, orange, pink, and purple were a stage that Orson would never forget. It was getting late, and Orson needed to get home before the sun was fully set.

"HEY ORSON, ARE YOU RETURNING TO THE MOUNTAIN?" A voice shouted out

"You can't continue. It's too dangerous!"

"O-oh, it's ok, My nose can smell anything. I'll be fine -"

"I'll let you stay the night, just come,"

"But..."

"ENOUGH! The demons will appear..." And with that, Orson went inside.

"Since long ago, human-eating demons come out to hunt at night, and because of that, it's a problem to walk around at night. You'll get eaten, it's beat if you sleep here, wake up early tomorrow and return home," Orson was tucked in his futon while listening to the old man. If you were to ask Orson if he believed in demons, he would say no. Orson has ventured out during the dark and it safe to say, he has never seen a demon."

"Can the demons not enter houses?" he asked

"No, they can enter..." Orson wanted to scoff. He would have been home at this point. What difference did it make if the demon could just barge in the house?

"In that case... everyone.... would be eaten by demons..." the white-haired boy yawned before closing his eyes.

"...The Demons hunters kill the demons for us.... since long ago..."

He must be lonely, living alone since his family died. Next time, I'll invite my mother and sister along. Even though it's scary, it's okay since demons don't exist. Even though I'm certain that such man-eating monsters don't exist, our grandmother said the same thing before she passed.

The morning arrived, and Orson had just left the old man's house. The morning air was cold, but he would make sure to arrive home on time.

T̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶a̶p̶p̶i̶n̶e̶s̶s̶ i̶s̶ b̶r̶o̶k̶e̶n̶, t̶h̶e̶ s̶c̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ i̶s̶ a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.

Orson knew what to expect when he arrived home. He would see his mother awake, fixing up Breakfast, and his sister would most likely either be asleep or doing some other chores. His other siblings would also be helping around the house (except for the youngest, he could sleep all day if they let him). But what he didn't expect was for his mother and sister to be covered in blood just outside the door. His dear sister inside the arms of their mother, an image forever engraved in his head.

"WHAT THE- WHAT- HOW DID THIS HAPPEN-WHAT HAPPENED!" The scene inside was more gruesome, his 2 younger brothers, one cut in half and the other-he couldn't even recognize him; if only by his clothes, for his face was nothing but a mess of flesh and blood. Orson went and knelt in front of his mother, his shaking hands moving his mother's hair away from her face. That was until he felt something, -warmth-, not from his mother but from his twin sister. His sister was still alive, and with that, he picked her up on his back and ran back down the mountain.

Only Ursa had warmth in her body. If she sees a doctor, they might be able to save her. How did such a thing happen? A bear? Did a bear that wasn't hibernating appear? It was painful to breathe... the frozen air burned his lungs... but he knew he had to move forward... he had to move his legs faster.

They were still far from the village, he needed to go faster. He wouldn't let her die, he was going to save her no matter what.

"Your big brother will save you..." He felt Ursa shift behind him; her movement becoming more agitated before griping her brother's shoulder violently and growling loudly.

"GAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" The sudden movement caused Orson to slip off the cliff.

' SHIT ' Orson closed his eyes preparing for the worse, but the soft snow softened his fall. He lays there for a while before opening his eyes.

" ...I'm saved...the snow, I slipped and fell on snow- URSAA!" Ursa was standing there swaying side to side in her bloodied clothes.

"Ursa! Are you OK, you don't have to walk. Let me carry you down the mountain! Ursa!!!" It was Ursa, but she didn't look like her. It was her eyes, they no longer held compassion, they looked angry.

They looked hungry

She was fast. She jumped on her twin with murderous intent, the only thing stopping her from biting her brother was the axe he had on him.

"A demon!" The old man's words came to his mind at that moment. Ursa, a demon? No, that's not right, Ursa has been a human ever since she was born. But her scent was different. Orson knew, though, that Ursa didn't do anything as she had no scent of their brother's blood and was being protected by their mother.

"Oof!" Her body was getting bigger, and her strength was increasing.

"While I was sleeping comfortably, you were all suffering. You were all hurting. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

"URSA! Try your best, Ursa! Try your best to hold it off! Somehow, you turned into a demon, Pull yourself together! I believe in you, Ursa!" A drop fell on the little polar bear boy. Ursa was now crying, muffled by the axe in her mouth. Too distracted by the situation at hand, neither of the two felt the presence of the intruder.

The two of them move out of the way just in time to avoid the sword. A man in a light blue lapis haori and black uniform attacked them with a sword. He had snow-white hair and blue eyes.

"Who was that...is that a Katana? "

"... Why did you protect them?" Orson snapped out of his trance and responded in a panic.

"YOUNGER, SHE'S MY YOUNGER SISTER!" She continued to growl, arms reaching toward the armed man.

".... I'm afraid she's no longer your sister..." He raced towards them. Abnormally quickly. Orson ducked his head trying to protect his sister, but he quickly realized that she was no longer in his arms.

"GYAAAHHHHHHH!!!" His sister was held with her arms behind her by the man in blue.

"URSA!" he yelled standing up abruptly.

"Don't worry, My job is to protect you against demons. I apologize... but I will have to decapitate your sister,"

"PLEASE WAIT, URSA HASN'T KILLED ANYONE! At the location of our home, there was another scent that I never smelled before! Whatever killed everyone was probably that! Ursa is different, I don't know why she's behaving like that but-"

"It's quite simple, If an open wound is exposed to demon blood, then you become a demon. This is how man-eating people multiply"

"URSA HASN'T EATEN ANYONE!" The swordsman was shocked by how persistent the boy was. He believed him when he said that she has yet to eat anyone, but he says it like it's always going to be that way.

"She was just about to eat you,"

"THAT WRONG! YOU CAN'T KNOW FOR SURE IN MY CASE! I WON'T LET HER HURT ANYONE! I'LL TURN URSA BACK INTO HUMAN, I'LL FIND A CURE!"

"I'm sorry, but there is no cure, there is no way to turn a demon back into a human."

"THEN I'LL FIND A WAY, I'LL FIND A WAY TO CURE HER SO PLEASE DON'T KILL HER! I'LL FIND THE ONES WHO KILLED MY FAMILY, I'LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING SO PLEASE.... PLEASE" His begging was useless. The man raised his sword toward Ursa's neck, ready to cut her head off. Everything else was taken from him, so in a last attempt, he went on his knees and truly begged.

"Please stop......whatever you do, please don't kill my sister...I beg of you..." He couldn't hold his tears anymore.

"I beg of you...."The man snapped, finally losing his patience.

"YOU CAN'T GRASP AUTHORITY OVER SOMEONE ELSE'S LIFE AND DEATH." Orson raised his head abruptly with a shocked look, still covered in tears.

"DON'T GROVEL LIKE THAT AND GIVE YOUR ENEMIES A CHANCE TO KILL YOU. TAKEN AWAY? IN THAT TIME THEY WERE TAKEN AWAY, WHERE WERE YOU? CURE YOUR SISTER? TAKE REVENGE? IT'S HIGHLY RIDICULOUS! FOR THE WEAK THERE IS NO RIGHT OR OTHER CHOICES."

"ENTIRELY WITH FORCE, THE STRONG CAN MAKE OTHERS SURENDER, MAYBE THE DEMON KNOWS HOW TO CURE YOUR SISTER, BUT I DOUBT THE DEMON WILL HAVE ANY RESPECT FOR YOU. WHY DIDN'T YOU SWING YOUR AXE? WHY DID YOU SHOW ME YOUR BACK? IS IT OKAY IF I BEHEAD YOUR SISTER IN FRONT OF YOU?"

'Don't cry. Don't despair. Don't do these things now. I know that you were knocked down. Your only family left became a demon. It's painful, isn't it? You want to shout, don't you? I understand.'

'Half a day. If I had arrived half a day earlier, your family wouldn't be dead. However, time can not be reversed. Be angry. Say that it's unforgivable. A strong, pure anger. Let it become an unshakable driving force such that your limbs can't be moved.'

'Frail resolution will not save and cure your sister, it will not kill your family's enemy.'

"STOP!" It was too late. The swordsman stabbed his sister in the shoulder, earning him a painful screech from the demon girl.

"STOP!" Orson picked up a rock and flung it toward the Swordsman. Not like it would do much, as the man easily blocked the little pebble. Orson ran behind a tree, picking up another rock and throwing it at the man as he once again dodged it.

"YAAAAAAAHHH!!!" He ran up to the man with the blue haori. An attack based on emotions. But the boy can't win against an experienced swordsman. As he used the handle of the sword to knock the boy out, he fell on the snow before being fully unconscious.

"........ Where is the a-" Out of nowhere the axe came flying toward the man's face just bearly missing. Just before he hid behind the tree he threw the stone, then he threw the axe up. He hid the fact that he was unarmed with his charging posture because he knew he couldn't defeat him. He tried to bring him down after he got knocked out.

"GAAAAAHHHHH" Ursa kicked the man out of the way, making her way toward her now unconscious brother.

'Crap! He'll get eaten!' Ursa got to Orson.

'Ursa is different!'

'She doesn't eat people!' Ursa got in front of Orson in a protective stance growling at him

'A long time ago... There was a guy who said the same thing and was eaten. Demon in a "starving condition" would eat their parents or siblings. Fixing that wound would consume a lot of energy. Also, because turning into a demon requires a lot of stamina, without a doubt right now she is very hungry. She's going to want to eat anytime now but those defensive movements, it's as if she's warning me...' She lunged at him, ready to attack.

"Maybe something is different about these two"

And with just a single hit to the neck, Ursa passed out.

A mother and two brothers surrounded Orson in a pitch-black void, looking at him with sorrow.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, Orson. Take care of Ursa for us" Orson woke up gripping some cloth. The cloth ended up being Ursa's haori. She was sleeping with a bamboo muzzle in her mouth.

"Are you awake?" Orson tugged Ursa close to him in panic

" ... Go visit a man named Natquick Belov, who lives at the foot of the misty mountain. Tell him that Barnacles Belov sent you. Because it's cloudy it should be OK. Make sure the sunlight never touches your sister... And I'm sorry for my outburst, I wish you luck." He vanished too quickly for the eye to see as if he wasn't there in the first place. Leaving Orson and Ursa there all alone.

Orson went back to the house to bury his family. Orson prayed while Ursa stared off into the distance.

"Let's go" Orson grabbed his sister's hand and with one final look, they took off.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜

#Octonauts #octonauts captain barnacles #captain barnacles #Ursa #Orson #Natquick #peso #kwazii #Dashi #Tweak #inkling #shellington #demonslayerau #story from wattpad

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ibrithir-was-here · 2 years

Text

Another drabble that ended up having nothing to do with the word prompt but the point is to write and I did xD

Another jump around in time with teenage Daniel, who is sick and being stubborn about it

Gargantuan

Daniel was sick.

His stomach ached, his head ached, his mouth felt all fuzzy, tears kept prickling at his eyes, not even from the pain just from how off he felt. He was hot, but also so cold that he was wearing his thickest pajamas with his wooliest socks and a beanie pulled down over his ears and eyes, sandwiched under three blankets for good measure.

Man, he really wanted a sandwich right now, a toasted cheese and ham sandwich with a gargantuan bowl of soup. Of course eating would require sitting up and he really wasn't sure he could do that just now.

He wasn't sure he could keep anything down right now either.

He wished his mom was here.

Being sick was never fun but being sick when you were by yourself was the worst.

But he'd be sick three times over before he pulled her away from her trip with Rose. She went out for herself so rarely and she'd been really looking forward to it. It was just rotten luck Daniel had gotten this stupid bug two days after she'd left. He didn't want her to turn right around and come back to take care of him and he knew she would too.

At least his mom had always been a bigger texter than caller, that way she couldn't hear his coughs when she sent him pictures and updates of all the places she and Rose were seeing. She looked so happy too.

No Daniel wanted her to have this, and he was sixteen, almost seventeen after all. He could handle a stupid bug for a few days. It was summer break and he didn't have anywhere else to be or anything else to do. He could just rest and relax and let his mom do the same.

Well, he could try to rest anyway. He hadn't had much luck so far.

Normally he didn't have any trouble slipping into the Dreaming. In fact sometimes it was too easy, he'd gotten in trouble more then once for falling asleep in class. But for the last day, try as he might, he just couldn't seem to fall into anything more than a light doze that always broke too soon.

He really really wanted to sleep. Not just for the aid it would give to his body's recovery but because in the Dreaming he would be able to escape from the pain for at least a few hours.

And he missed his friends there, and Dream.

He really wished Dream were here too.

"Daniel"

Daniel peeked out from under his beanie, and could just make out a pair of pale hands touching the edge of his bed. In a moment the hands were slipping the beanie off of his head and carding through his sweat matted hair as Dream's dark blue eyes of the Waking World looked down on him with concern.

"Daniel Hall, you are ill, why did you not summon me earlier?"

"Didn't want to worry you" Daniel murmured, closing his eyes and focusing on how good Dream's cool hand felt against his forehead.

"I was worried already when you did not appear in the Dreaming last night. I was worried you had indulged in too much caffeine once again."

Daniel's attempt at a laugh turned into a hacking cough, which only deepened Dream's look of concern.

"You should not be alone while you are ill. Your mother I know is with Rose Walker, but is there no one here to care for you?"

"Ah Dream I'm a teenager now not a kid, I can ha--" another cough cut him off, and the pink that rose to Daniel's cheeks had nothing to do with his fever--"Handle it" he finished lamely.

Dream raised an eyebrow.

"Please, I'm fine. I just want to sleep." Daniel said, almost a plea, he was so tired, so ready to forget about being ill for at least a while. "Can't you just put me to sleep please? I'll be loads better after that I know I will."

Dream said nothing for a moment. Finally he started to move as though to pick Daniel up, saying;

"You shouldn't be alone. I can send your mind into the Dreaming but your Waking body needs tending as well to ensure you don't worsen. I could take you with me through the Dreaming out into Hob's--"

"Oh gosh please don't," Daniel cut him off with a groan, "I don't think I could make it across to the kitchen right now, let alone the Atlantic, not unless you want me to throw up across half a dozen dreams and your cape."

"...That would not be preferable, no." Dream admitted.

"But still, I cannot in good conscience leave you here alone"

"I don't want to inconvenience you," Daniel began, his face flushing again from the thought of pulling Dream away from his responsibilities. "You have your work and--"

Dream looked down at him then, and there was a look in his eyes that Daniel had never seen before.

"Daniel, of the many things you have and have yet to inherit from me, please do not inherit my… stubbornness."

Dream's voice was low, even more so than usual as he spoke, and Daniel felt a shiver run through him that had nothing to do with his illness.

"It is no shame to ask for aid when you need it, do not let yourself suffer unnecessarily out of a sense of duty. If you would not leave another in your state, do not leave yourself in it either."

Daniel ducked his head to hide the tears that were prickling at his eyes again. He knew Dream was right, and honestly--he really was so glad Dream was here. But still…

"Please don't call Mom though, ok?"

Dream sighed, sitting down beside Daniel and carding through his hair again. "I will not alert her unless you begin to worsen."

Daniel opened his mouth to thank him but Dream hushed him, adding "And I will be staying here to insure you do not worsen"

"But the Dreaming--"

"The Dreaming will not fall apart within the space of three days, which I assume will be sufficient time to monitor the state of your health. And besides, I will need to ensure you get the proper amount of rest to help heal your physical body, and so will be returning with you each time you enter the Dreaming."

A faint smile graced Dream's lips as he asked "Does that ease your worries?"

Daniel smiled faintly back, and nodded.

"Then sleep Daniel Hall, sleep and begin to heal. I will be here when you wake."

And finally, blissfully, Daniel felt himself being pulled under and into the Dreaming. It happened so fast he barely had time to whisper a "Thanks Dad" before he was gone, falling into a warm dream, full of sandwiches and free from even the memory of pain.

#my writing #endless heirs au #dream of the endless #morpheus #daniel hall #lyta hall #rose walker #hob gadling #dreamling #the sandman #the sandman spoilers #sandman au #sick fic #hurt/comfort

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rrasado · 2 years

Note

Mind if I ask a pt.2 of this?

⸢From Blooming Sanguine⸥

Other notes ➽ It only occurred to me now how long ago that thing was :headinhands:. Ah my dearest, how grave of a mistake you made by not specifying if thee wished for a good continuation or a bad one, but I digress!- the bad ending will follow in another post because I'm a woman who craves angst without comfort 🍵

Featured Characters ➽ Leona, Azul, Jade and Floyd

Trigger Warnings ➽ Mentions and implications of Blood, Death, Coughing and possible comatose.

Summary ➽ When you contract Hanahaki disease (Good Ending).

The first few weeks were simply horrendous on Ruggie's terms. Despite the unspoken concern Leona harbored— he refused to come near you due to the faint scent of blood that latched onto your body.

He didn't like it one bit, the scent cruely reminded him of his bed ridden father. That scene of helplessness and confinement was slowly being associated with your face instead. Just how many people does he need to see suffer; more so in a state he can't help.

That separation gave room for various thoughts, some knocking on the beating organ in his chest. But knowing his pride he doesn't do anything besides snap at those who ask him about you. It varies between dismissal to denial and even possessiveness if you squint hard enough.

The things you do to him just by not being there are unexpected, no one actually notices until the most later weeks where he carelessly steps on any stray flowers he comes across. Leona is usually not one to carelessly throw fits but blood and flowers start to hold a new meaning for him

If anything you're more of the last straw than the powder keg itself, being away from his own family for more than needed softened his perception of terminal illness but now there was someone who he used to interact with on the daily? You reopened buried realizations and even brought new ones. One of them being how he cared for you more than he'd like to admit.

It's funny, he thinks. Only in anguish does he grasp what he holds dear. Which is faster I wonder, his unspoken love or the flowers from your lungs?

"You, of all damned times you just had to sleep before I do... way to make me feel special Herbivore..."

On his birthday, he swallowed his pride and spent the night at your room inside the infirmary, pulling the visitor's chair close while he dumps a paperbag of meat dishes on the table side, most likely his breakfast for the next day. Leona sleeps next to you without even realizing the disappearing scent of blood.

In the middle of the night a final petal fell on his nose, irritated by the contact Leona almost didn't notice your figure sitting perfectly upright, breathing back to normal and had the moon been present he would've seen your dried tears.

"You've got some nerve leaving me just like that, stay with me from now on... is that really too much even for us.?

What happens in the morning will be left behind closed doors, where whispers of love finally exchanged as flower wilt with the pain.

Leona Kingscholar loves in a way he thinks is right. It's a process he's stubbornly clutching on but if it means making those flowers a distant nightmare, he'll grip your hand all the way.

Azul would never admit it to anyone, not even the twins— but he accidentally let the helplessness get to him, at least from what Jade observes. Those bags under his eyes were pathetically concealed with his glasses, his notes and research were starting to become unrelated to class.

I can safely say he's someone who's reason-dependant, a fragile sort that gets thrown off by the unforseen, your sudden illness was far from his line of deduction. He'll think of something right? He's the infamous Dorm Leader of octavinelle for great seven's sake—

Why can't he even grant his own wish? As a matter of fact, since when did you slip into his wishes? Did your health's risk made him rethink what he treasures?

He's only ever been caught off guard few times during his school life but that image of your bloody floral self takes the cake. He did his best to not let the intrusive thoughts affect his academics but he wasn't as engaged with his extra curricular as before; too preoccupied with finding the root of those wretched flowers in your lungs.

Perhaps he can seek out his grandmother’s advice? Maybe his step father's counsel? Surely someone with connections in the justice field know cases regarding these unexplainable blooms.

After racking his brain only then did he realize how cowardice of an approach he was doing, it was like back then wasn't it? Him making excuses with himself to not face his problem head on, then again maybe it was because he's afraid of you not wanting his help in the first place— the same way those blasted voices in his past taunted him in his moments of weakness.

It was a reflection of his lowest point in life huh, him unraveling in his frustration all because he feels helpless; what can he even do? He's learned his lesson before... perhaps seeing you face to face can provide new insight besides those intrusive thoughts. That's what he did the next day.

"You're awake? I'm relieved... I mean it, you've been unresponsive for weeks and... great seven, I think you owe me back my attention..."

He sits down beside you, the white sheets of your bed had very faint drops of red but the bin beside you lacked those full flowers he last remember pouring out your lips, they seemed to quiver as if wanting to say something but can't.

"You'll have to let me go first because great seven knows how much I've pent up over the weeks. It may not mean much, in hindsight- it's pretentious of me to claim I share your pain when all I'm dealing with is this ensnaring feeling... how did you do it.?"

The silver haired dorm leader never liked showing his vulnerability but it seems it's precisely what saved him a trip of heart ache, when your condition became significantly better he promised to himself that he'll charge this to experience until the day those flowers simply become a bouquet in sincerity to you.

Azul Ashengrotto loves by giving what he knows he can give, should a day come he runs out of things to offer, let him give himself to you the way your heart gave its blood in yearning for the silver haired Dorm Leader.

He knew he hurt you more than just what those flowers did, as calm and elusive Jade is, he's equally aware of his surroundings and the effect his every calculated action makes. The only difference this time around was that his lack of sincere display was a coping mechanism instead of the usual aloofness.

Unlike the two dorm leaders above, Jade chose to stick close to you even if it meant witnessing that forlorn expression in your eyes, the way you felt disappointed with his assistance even if he didn't understood 100% what he did besides discarding signs of sincerity.

If Jade could count the amount of words you've spoken in the first two weeks confined in the infirmary, he'd only need his two hands. Any question he threw was met with curt words, a far cry from how passionate your talks were before that incident at the hike.

Perhaps that unresponsiveness began taking a toll on him, come the third week he's starting to fill that silence with his own mundane chatter. The events outside the infirmary, the lounge's affairs, all to get a different reaction from you besides that conflicted look.

The fourth week wasn't any better, his topics became more personal, more private, is this his way of vying another reaction out of you? Did..did bleeding out flowers felt unsatisfactory to the calm sadistic eel?

What you failed to notice was his seeping desperation for a genuine answer, one out of interest or and not out of fear. You didn't know how he charmed into your affections but it took an infirmary trip for you to realize just how untouchable Jade Leech felt.

The later weeks he's tired, not as bad as you but there was a faint shiver in his palm when it rested on top of yours, he didn't look at you knowing how vulnerable you were when he's looking— maybe it was a blind shot in the dark but he felt unsure why he was going to such lengths in the first place.

"I miss your gaze, I won't demand it, I've taken it for granted too much... and yet, that selfish urge to ask for a piece of you even if..."

Jade was a smarter man who's pride never endangered him, he knew why but he couldn't admit it until he was cornered by his own amusement. Had you been some past time enjoyment then he should've moved on by now, right? Find another play thing to see how one acts.

"The things you do to me. I want you to see the artistry you did to my very being. See here... that pulse rate, you're responsible for more things than I'd like to admit."

The Vice dorm leader fell into his own trap of experimentation, these feelings so foreign yet so formidable gave you your leeway to see how Jade Leech wasn't as unreachable as he shows himself. It's your leeway to see how he's the one reaching out to you with no deceit attached.

Jade Leech loves in a way he didn't think he's able to, finally convinced in looking at himself after intertwining with your all. He was a private man and it took a broken string for him to tie that hollow feeling you instigated.

It's undoubtedly messy with Floyd's case. He made it everyone's problem whether intentionally or not. He didn't know how to handle that ick of a feeling he gets whenever he hears a single cough in the halls. Scarlet liquid, varying flowers, a sickly symptom— they remind him too much of you.

That's the curse of a one tracked mind locking onto what it wanted, no matter how hard he tried to redirect his focus he can't even go one minute without getting that sinking feeling in his chest.

He doesn't do his work as efficiently as he did before, neither Azul nor his twin could get a hold of his mood especially when someone mentions you in the room. Floyd was snappier than usual and he was aimlessly going back and fourth between different sources from books to the internet to people.

That wretched disease you contracted was a thorn to his side. He can't register the possibility of loosing you to some pesky flowers growing in your lungs. The more those thoughts resonated with him the more he's starting to feel as breathless as you whenever a coughing fit ensued.

He wasn't so fixated on anything like this in a long time, he's seen and witnessed losses in the coral sea right? What made you any different to the fallen merfolk?

You had a hold on his heart, that was a fact he wholeheartedly accepted a little late, he couldn't pin point what he felt towards you nor could he explain why his chest ached as if he was sharing your ongoing pain. The only thing he's sure of is the fact that he really wanted to ease that pain.

"Koebi-chan it's me, y..you missed me right? Well I missed you lots so I brought you some stuff! Must be boring being alone here everyday. Guess I'll just have to help ya out on that huh."

It was like watching a child scurrying to the TV for his favorite show, Floyd without fail visited you every day bringing trinkets and stories so that you can momentarily forget any lonesome pain festering in your body.

One day when your coughing was worse than usual he gripped your shoulders for dear life as if you'd dissappear if he dared to let go, he didn't give a single care when the flowers stained his shirt red because what presided on his mind was to hold you close.

"Don't- Koebi-chan don't even think about leaving me ya hear?!- H-hey hey hang in there I'll get the staff just hold on for me hold on for yourself- please just-"

He loved you it sank in the last minute and he loved you too much to even leave you when the infirmary staff arrived, not once did he leave your side even staying the night after changing out of the bloody shirt. The next day was just filled with him hiding you close and when you got a little better his smile became more genuine than hedonistic.

Floyd Leech loved in a way he knew he wanted to. Chasing those days where you're in his arms; without the ominous fear of your disappearance. He may wear his heart on his sleeve but Floyd never minded it one bit if it meant you realizing he loved you even if you never grew those flowers.

Taglist :: @citirusu @sherbet-shark @luvielle @anevilbunnyinthehat (tag for bunny-senpai because Leona👉👈)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst leona #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #tw blood #tw death #tw disease #hanahaki au

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 1 year

Note

Fever Whump Bingo: Tepid Bath for Robin! you can combine it with others if you want >:)

ohoho I'm going to combine it with "glassy eyes" for something vaguely adjacent to some actual canon plans!

Dany's hands don't shake. She's not a freaking coward. The hotel is too quiet when she steps back inside, having set herself at ease with a quick loop around the exterior. There are several exits and no one around. She slings the rifle off her shoulder as she walks back into the room, leans it in the corner next to the door. Her pistol will stay on, anyway.

Robin is sitting on the edge of one of the double beds, hands hanging limp between his legs where his arms are propped on his knees. He's bent over awkwardly, head hanging. His back is to Dany, shoulders rising and falling heavily with labored breaths. She can hear his breathing from the door.

"Outside's clear," Dany reports, pausing for a moment that she's glad Robin doesn't see before bending to untie and take off her boots for the first time in... she doesn't know how long. They haven't slept indoors for days. The conversation is normal enough. That's why she says it, even when Robin doesn't respond. "This room opens outside, but there are general exits on either side of the hall out the other side, and one from the front lobby. The pool is gross, but it's indoor/outdoor, so it could function as an escape route if we needed it."

Dany walks into the bathroom. No lights, obviously, but she blinks at herself in the mirror. Her hair's gotten longer, her face pale since summer — she never tanned, just burned and wound up paler than before. There are circles under her eyes belying her lack of sleep and more fear in the gray than she wants to admit.

Robin isn't doing well. There's a part of her that's afraid to check his fever. If she doesn't know how bad it is, how much he's been pushing through, then they don't have to deal with it. If she doesn't know, it can't be as bad as she fears. Schrodinger's Robin, she thinks suddenly, ridiculously, and snorts quietly. The uptick of her mouth in the mirror looks like it belongs to somebody else. Somebody she was before all this. Before the world ending and meeting Robin and nearly dying and jumping on trains. She turns away from it.

"Robin?"

"Yeah?"

Some of the tension in Dany releases when he finally responds, though his voice is weak and painfully raspy. They'd had to stop several times walking today while he caught his breath, coughing into his elbow until Dany worried he was going to fall over. She steps over to the bed, crouches on front of him.

"You doing okay?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

Robin looks up at her with glassy, vacant eyes. His hair droops over his forehead, damp with sweat. He blinks slowly at her. It doesn't add much more awareness to his gaze. "'M'fine," he whispers. It's a lie that Dany knows all too personally. A moment later he's toppling forward and Dany's catching him, scrambling to support his awkward weight as his strength gives out.

"Clearly," Dany says sharply, snapping out her fear with sarcasm, "You're not." Even his nose, poking into the side of her neck, is hot. She struggles to move onto the bed beside him, cradling his limp form against her. "You're burning up," she says, you know, like a cliché. "You with me at all?"

"D'ny..?" He mumbles, shifting slightly. "I don' feel good..."

"I hadn't noticed." The slurring isn't a good sign. He's barely, barely conscious and raging with fever.

She has, and Dany knows this, antibiotics and fever reducers, tucked safely away in the medical bag she'd dropped on the far side of the other hotel bed. But her fear is, and it's gripping her almost tighter than she's holding Robin right now, is that he's deteriorating too quickly, won't last the time it takes for the dose to enter his system. At least, won't last without permanent damage. She finally understands what Robin must have felt month prior, watching her suffer. Only, he depended on her. She can survive without him. But... can she really, anymore? She doesn't want to think about that.

Water, out here, is most often run off of wells. She'd seen the septic pipes as they came in. If she's lucky, or incredibly blessed, they're far enough off the grid that the pump doesn't require electricity. Where she grew up, most people living off-grid had solar well pumps. Funny, how things have changed with the weather: she prays there's been enough sun.

"Come on," she urges, wrestling Robin into a semi-standing position. "Robin, hey, you gotta help me out here." Robin isn't particularly big, but he's mostly dead weight and unwieldy. She manhandles him into the bathroom, where he collapses onto the lid of the toilet, barely holding himself up.

Dany holds her breath as she twists the lever, thinks pleasepleaseplease too desperately in the silence. She gasps in relief when she hears the rumble of water flowing, when it starts pouring out of the faucet. The heating won't work, and she knows you're technically not supposed to use cold-cold water for this, but it's all she has. It's the best only chance of keeping Robin okay.

She plugs the drain and turns back to Robin, once again kneeling in front of him. This time he doesn't look up at her; it must take too much effort that's being expended on just breathing.

"Neither of us is going to like this, I don't think," Dany mutters. She's basically talking to thin air, and his glassy greenish eyes, but she feels the need to say it anyway. "Sorry."

As quickly as she can with hands that even she has to admit are now shaking, she strips him down to his boxers. Robin doesn't even respond until she tries to maneuver him into the tub. All he does is mumble her name again, which he made hers in the first place, in between ragged breaths.

"Yeah, it's me," she whispers back. "I've got you."

She realizes with a sinking feeling that the only reason she, as strong as she may be but still skinner than she'd been four months ago, is going to get Robin's lanky, limp form into the tub is by getting in there herself. So she says screw it, pulls off her socks and resigns herself to soaking these leggings, and through some feat of willpower or a miracle, manages to get them both into the water.

It isn't freezing cold, isn't even that unpleasant, but Dany likes cold, has a higher tolerance to it, and against Robin's fever-hot skin it must feel like ice. She's positioned behind him, arms around him to keep him still as he writhes in the chilly water. He struggles against her blindly, even as Dany tries to tell him to relax, it's okay, she's trying to help him. When the last vestiges of his strength finally abandon him, he slumps back against her and shudders with a coughing fit.

His head lolls back against her shoulder. Dany shuts her eyes for a moment, prays not for the first time today. She is scared. She doesn't know if she's more afraid of losing Robin, or afraid of the fact that she's afraid of that. She rests a hand on his chest, where she can feel his heartbeat, and forces herself not to think about it. He'll be okay. He has to.

#spoiler alert: he's fine i just didn't know how to end this so you get a non-ending ending. philosophical innit?#Lu rambles #Lu writes #crosscountry apocalypse

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musicprincess1990 · 1 year

Text

Chicken Soup

I know I said I was taking a break from writing, but... I'm a goddamn liar. And this is for @mizjoely, because she's not feeling well. Hope you get better soon, friend!

~*~

"I am never ill."

Famous last words of Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and arrogant prat. He would be forced to change his tune now, as he was currently laid out in bed, nursing a fever, a sore throat, and sinus congestion. By the tone of his texts—Baker St immediately, followed by a rare and unembellished, Please—one would have though he was dying, or at least seriously injured.

But no. Instead, Molly found him curled into the foetal position atop his duvet, a hot water bottle pressed against his temple and three empty teacups on the bedside table. He presented quite a pathetic picture, and she couldn't quite stop herself from smiling.

"Molly," he grumbled, his voice gravelly and deeper than normal. "I can feel you smiling.

She let a little giggle escape. "Serves you right, Mr. 'I'm Never Ill.'"

"Yes, yes, hilarious—" here he was forced to pause in order to cough several times, "—now, help me."

Molly perched her hands on her hips. "Say please."

One quicksilver eye opened and glared daggers at her. "I already did."

She didn't budge. "Say it again."

He huffed in exasperation, eye falling closed again, and finally said in a pitiful groan, "Please, Molly."

Satisfied, she let her hands fall and softened her smirk into a gentle smile. "Of course, Sherlock," she said softly, taking the hot water bottle, which was more lukewarm by this point. "I'll refill this, and I'll make you some tea, shall I? Maybe get you some paracetamol, if it's still in the same place?"

Another wave of coughing, then he replied, "Same place."

Without another word, Molly set to work. She put the kettle on the stove and rooted around the cupboards until she found a few bags of herbal. He'd likely make a face and some snide remark, but it was much better for a cold than Earl Gray. Then she ran the tap until the water was warm enough, then filled the hot water bottle and carried it back into Sherlock's room. He mumbled incoherently, which she took as the closest thing to a thank-you she would get.

Next, she went into the bathroom and found the paracetamol—expired, but only by a few weeks. It would do for now, but she made a mental note to pop over to the nearest Boots and pick up a new bottle for him. She'd get him something to eat, as well; knowing him, he likely hadn't eaten for days, which only exacerbated the illness. It would do him good to have something, even something small.

The kettle whined, and Molly returned to the kitchen, pouring water into the cup and letting the tea steep. Glancing through the fridge, she was happy to find a fresh lemon (I wonder what experiment that is for...). Adding a bit of lemon and a hint of sugar—she did know him, after all—she took the tea and medicine into his room.

"Up," she instructed, and he reluctantly pulled himself up into a seated position, leaning back against the headboard. Molly handed him the paracetamol first, which he immediately took, then the tea. As expected, his upper lip curled a bit, but he made no comment and sipped the steaming liquid.

"When did you eat last?" she asked.

"Can't remember," he answered before taking another sip.

"Have you got anything in?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You were just in my fridge, I think you'd know better than me."

Molly narrowed her eyes, but let the snarky comment pass. "That's a no, then. Think you can manage half an hour without me?"

"I shall do my level best," he deadpanned.

"Says the man who all but begged me to come to his bedside."

"I never beg."

She smiled sweetly. "Just like you never get ill?" He scowled at her, and she let out another giggle. "Alright then, I'm off to Boots, back in a few. Sleep, if you can."

"Yes, Mum."

~*~

Just over half an hour later, Molly made her way back up the stairs to Sherlock's flat, carrying a new bottle of paracetamol and a tin of soup. Chicken noodle soup, to be precise, a favourite remedy of the Hooper household when Molly was a child. She hadn't a clue how Sherlock would react to it, but it was certainly worth a go.

Peeping into Sherlock's room, she saw him fast asleep, breathing slow and steady. Molly paused for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. Even pale and sickly, he was beautiful, like he was cut from marble. But now, with his features relaxed in sleep, there was a vulnerability to him, softening all his sharp edges. He was human, like anybody else. Best not tell him that, she joked privately, then left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

While he slept, Molly spent some time tidying up the flat, though she took care not to disturb the flasks and petri dishes in the kitchen. As she did, she got a call from Mrs. Hudson, thanking her for looking in on Sherlock while she was away. She was in the lake district with her sister, due back in a week or so, and Molly wished her a nice holiday and ended the call.

Not long after, she heard Sherlock stirring, and went to put the soup on the stove, along with a fresh kettle. Soon, she took another cuppa and a bowlful of soup in on Mrs. Hudson's usual tea tray.

Sherlock's brows pulled together as she set the tray on the bed beside him. "What's that?"

"Soup," she answered. "And you're going to eat it."

He stared at the soup for several seconds. "How?"

Odd question, she thought. "Well, you take the spoon and—"

"How did you know?"

"I... know what?"

His throat convulsed as he swallowed hard. "Never mind. I'll eat it. Bit difficult to do so in bed, though." He stood carefully, sniffling and coughing as he carried the tray back into the kitchen.

Molly watched closely, curious and confused by his reaction. What had he meant? How did she know what? Know to bring him soup? For God's sake, she was a doctor, even if her patients were already dead when she saw them. And he knew that, so that couldn't be it... so what was it?

"Are you going to stand there staring at me all night?"

Her face flamed and she shook herself. "Sorry, just... thinking."

"Always a good thing to do," he said with a hint of a smile.

Molly watched him for another few moments, mustering the nerve to ask him, then finally did so. "What did you mean, Sherlock?"

His hand stopped, holding his spoon in midair, but he didn't look at her. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"Liar."

Now he did look at her, seemingly stunned that she'd called him out, but to his credit, he didn't keep lying. He set down his spoon, eyes following it, and it was several seconds before he spoke again.

"The last time I can remember being ill," he began, "I was six years old. My parents were on holiday, Mycroft was at school, and I was spending the week with my grandparents. I was miserable, thought I was going to die—ridiculous, obviously I wasn't, but to a child who didn't yet know better, it seemed likely." Sherlock took a breath. "I woke in the middle of the night in hysterics, and... my gran brought me a bowl of chicken noodle soup."

Molly smiled. "Your gran sounds lovely."

His ears turned pink. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will... I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pleasant."

She snorted a laugh. "Mum's the word. So, is that why you reacted like you did? You thought I knew about your gran somehow?"

Sherlock self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck. "It... wasn't my most rational moment."

"Well, you're ill," she pointed out. "No one's mind is ever perfectly clear when they're ill. Not even Sherlock Holmes."

His eyes flew up to meet hers, dancing with humour. "So I'm only human?"

"Afraid so," she said with a smile. "Now, eat up. I don't want a single drop left of that soup."

"Yes, Mum," he quipped again, but did as he was told.

When he was finished, Molly set his emptied bowl in the basin, then refilled his hot water bottle for him as he shuffled back into his room. He was already curled up under the covers when she brought it to him, eyelids beginning to droop.

Without thinking, Molly brushed his curls back from his forehead and pressed her palm against his heated skin, in order to see if his fever had lessened any. Then, realizing what she'd done, she froze, her eyes only slightly wider than his. "I-I'm sorry, I know why I did—"

Molly's words suddenly caught in her throat. She had been about to jerk her hand back and make a hasty retreat, but she'd barely moved an inch before his fingers closed around her wrist. He studied her hand for a moment, then pressed his lips into her palm, sending jolts of electricity up her arm. And when he looked back up at her, she wished more fervently than ever that he wasn't so ill.

"Thank you, Molly," he murmured, his thumb softly grazing her pulse point. "When I'm rid of this blasted cold, I'd like to show you just how grateful I am." His lips ticked up in an impish smirk. "And I promise never to call you Mum again."

Well. How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?

"Just go to sleep, Sherlock," she hedged, and moved to take her hand back, only to have his grip on her tighten. "Sherlock?"

"Stay," he insisted. "Please."

Molly hesitated, partly because she knew the chances of her getting "this blasted cold" were already fairly high, and would be even higher if she stayed. But mostly, she was afraid this show of affection from him was only because he was delirious with fever and exhaustion, and that he'd scorn her once his mind was clearer. It didn't matter, though; clearly, he was determined not to let her leave.

Taking a deep breath, Molly seated herself on the edge of his bed. "I'll stay until you've fallen asleep, but I can't stay all night. I've got a cat at home, and no pyjamas with me. Besides, I don't fancy being ill myself."

He sighed in defeat. "Fine. But you'll be back in the morning?"

"Well, someone has to take care of you," she teased. "Clearly you can't be left to your own devices."

"Hilarious."

"And true," she pointed out. "Where would you be if I hadn't turned up?"

His eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, landed on hers as he whispered, "I'd be lost without you, Molly Hooper."

Oh.

He was serious... completely serious. Hope, the likes of which she had never felt before, swelled within her chest as she watched him finally surrender to sleep. Did he really mean... was it possible that he...? Well... there was only one way to find out. She would ask him in the morning.

That hope lingered as Molly tiptoed out of the room and gathered her things. She was half tempted to stay the night after all, up in John's old room, but decided against it. If she stayed, she would spend the whole night listening for him, waiting anxiously for the conversation they needed to have. No, she needed to leave, for her own sanity as much as her literal health.

She looked in on Sherlock one last time, though, unable to resist lightly running her hand through those curls once more. Sherlock sighed contentedly, but didn't wake.

"Until tomorrow," she whispered, then made her way back home.

~*~

Uh, this was supposed to be silly and fluffy, but it turned into a whole thing... and there's gonna be a part two. I'll post this on Ao3 in the morning (well, the later morning, it's 1:00 AM now), then part two will be up as soon as it's finished.

Yep. I'm a goddamn liar. I can't stop writing to save my life. 😄 Get well soon, MJ!!

#for mizjoely #this just sort of happened #part two coming soon #sherlolly #sick sherlock #sherlock is a human disaster #molly hooper is a bamf #molly takes care of sherlock #he really would be lost without her #these two idiots in love

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ethereousdelirious · 8 months

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Sicktember 2023 Day 9

Prompt: Alt 2. Fuzzy Sock

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Kunikida, Dazai

Worcount: 1,063

Notes:

Kunikida became aware of two things simultaneously when he awoke and opened his eyes.

Least pressing: his throat hurt. Badly. Even breathing sent a sting through it and he was a little afraid to discover what swallowing might feel like.

Urgent: someone was standing over his bed.

His body reacted before his brain did and he had the intruder halfway in a grapple before Dazai's frantic "hey, hey, hey, it's me, it's me!" processed in his sleep-addled brain. He let go of Dazai to sneeze into his sleeve several times and emerged moments later much the worse for wear.

"...Dazai?" Kunikida blinked and looked around, reassuring himself that this was indeed his apartment. The blurry outlines of his bedroom greeted him, bookshelves and windowpanes all exactly as they should be.

"Sh, sh, sh." Dazai put a palm to his forehead and pushed back down onto his futon. Kunikida allowed this more out of confusion than anything, though the pressure against his sinuses made his nose throb. "You're sick," Dazai explained.

As though he had planned it, another series of sneezes tore through Kunikida's body. He jerked his head to the side to avoid sneezing right in Dazai's face. He sighed after the fit passed, then shot Dazai a suspicious look. Dazai was up to something, that much was clear. He narrowed his eyes, nose twitching despite himself. "What are you doing here, Dazai?"

Dazai's face brightened into that disingenuous grin and he started fussing with the blankets down by Kunikida's ankles. "Why, I'm looking after my partner, of course! I can't let you go to work when you're sick."

"What time is it?" Kunikida demanded, bolting upright. He half expected Dazai to try to stop him on his way out of bed, but no resistance came. Instead, he got to his feet and nearly toppled over when his first attempt at taking a step met unexpected resistance. He caught himself on the wall and looked down. Thick silver cuffs peeked out from beneath his pajama pants, connected by a short chain. "Are you holding me hostage?"

Shouting made his throat hurt all the worse, the urge to cough completely irresistible. He tried anyway and only made himself choke.

Dazai wrapped an arm around him like he was an invalid. "I can't have you going to work in this condition, now can I? I know you'll try to sneak off if I don't take safety measures."

"This is insane," Kunikda said roughly, and had to cough again.

"Maybe next time you'll think twice about denying my request for a day off," Dazai sang, and forced Kunikida back down to the futon.

"Dazai…" Kunikida's head hit the pillow and he couldn't help but relax. He really was sore. And his throat hurt. Maybe Dazai was onto something— "Oh, God."

Dazai peered at him, wide-eyed. "What is it?"

"I think I have a fever."

"Don't worry!" Dazai said cheerfully. "Doctor Dazai will take excellent care of you."

The next several moments happened to Kunikida; all he could do was sit back and experience the events. Dazai set a box of tissues in his lap and explained who was covering for their absences. He made Kunikida tea and checked his temperature. He fluffed the pillows, dosed out cough syrup, tied his hair up, and lastly…

"I can do that myself, you know," Kunikida said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, no." Dazai continued working the remaining fuzzy sock up Kunikida's ankle and under the cuff. "You'd try to free yourself and run back to work."

"Tch." Dazai was right, of course. Kunikida scowled. "I'd set those socks on fire, too."

"Kunikida!" Dazai said, faux-scandalized. "I bought these warm, fuzzy socks especially for you!"

"Here we go," Kunikida said under his breath.

The socks were pastel pink, scattered with little white hearts. At the cuffs near the ankles, two sheep smiled benignly out at the world. Sweet, soft, saccharine.

"They're charming!" Dazai continued, still as though Kunikida had mortally offended him. "I can't believe you'd just throw away my love and affection like that."

Kunikida tried to answer, but his breath caught in his throat. He rolled over and coughed into the pillows, unintentionally jerking his foot out of Dazai's grip.

His ragged breaths tore their way up his throat, burning his chest in the process. And the tickle wouldn't go away, only subsiding into something semi-bearable for a moment before he has to cough again. All Dazai's tea and cough syrup had been temporary measures at best.

"Aren't you glad you didn't have to go to work today?" Dazai asked conversationally.

He had moved at some point, coming up to squat by Kunikida's head.

"No," Kunikida rasped, shooting Dazai a watery glare before burying his face in a tissue and sneezing.

"Well, do you at least like the socks?"

Kunikida rolled over with a stifled groan and looked at his feet. An absurd picture greeted him: adorable pink fuzzy socks, the hems of his pajama pants, and between them, thick silver shackles. "Not really." He sighed. Dazai was sure to pout and make a scene if Kunikida didn't give him something. "But I appreciate that you went out of your way to get them for me."

"Go onnn?"

Kunikida gritted his teeth. "Thank you, Dazai."

As expected, Dazai brightened at once. "Anything for my cherished partner! Now how about some breakfast?"

"Please don't burn down my kitchen."

"Oh." Dazai waved a hand, already halfway to the door. "Don't you worry about that." He paused as though to continue, then disappeared out the door.

"Dazai!" Kunikida called after him, but the pain in his throat flared up and he could do nothing but cough. Without Dazai there to distract him, the full extent of his discomfort washed over him in waves. The congestion was bad, the sore throat was worse, and he was so cold. Everywhere except his feet, thanks to Dazai's stupid socks.

Kunikida groaned in defeat and flopped backward against his pillows, though his congested nose really didn't appreciate it. Above him, the ceiling swam and fogged, blurring out of his its already tenuous focus. Staring at it made Kunikida's head hurt, so he closed his eyes.

Sleep pulled at him immediately, and the last thought in his foggy mind was the brief hope that Dazai didn’t burn down his kitchen while he was out.

#sicktember 2023 #ethereous writes

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skinni-girls-eat-books · 2 months

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Tuesday, February 20th, 2024! Part 2 (Positive)

6:24pm: 2sday, 02/20/2024 pt 2 lots of 2s

Anyway lol came home, blew the biggest final boss wad out of my nose, took a dump and let me tell you I'm smelling colors now 😂 I've never been so happy to smell my shit. I was really fucking scared that I had covid on some permanent sensory deprivation shit and I was on the verge of losing my mind. This morning I have never blown so much ODDLY colored snot out of my nose all at once before, it was like the weirdest fucking orange color but it's like I want to think it was from the cough drops but I really don't think it was because there was SO MUCH and it permeated all of the snot I just don't know. It was all so thick no wonder I've just been fucking miserable 😅 but I'm the biggest trooper I know I did the most this weekend and I'm SO GLAD I didn't let that mf stop me.

So glad I got my sense of smell and taste back I could actually taste the last Valentine's Day macaron I had left 😂 it must have been a sinus infection, that's so insane. Being sick is horrible I wouldn't wish it on anyone 👀

I have so many things to be grateful for. I am grateful that I don't have to live my life angry and upset forever like some people. I am grateful that I forgive people and have an amazing heart. I love life and I'm just going to keep doing the best I can with what I've got. ❤️ I love my cats every day I'm just going to love them with all my heart, don't be scared something will happen to them (anxiety) just love them everyday and you'll never have any regrets. I even forgive him for everything, calling me a shitty person, threatening my brother, all because he's just mentally ill. I have a feeling he'll be back, I just don't think that was the end. But that's not something I'll concern myself with for now. Just try to be at peace with what's going on right now.

7:52pm: I've literally just been scrolling on my phone enjoying doing nothing to the sound of my clear nasal passages and just enjoying breathing. Got my heated blanket out, just reading reddit stories about trash men and I am so glad I can't relate anymore!! It's not even so visceral anymore, I don't get like physically angry the way I used to reading these anymore. I feel very healed, it takes a lot to trigger me anymore. I think that's my way of knowing that I just will never fall for some crazy shit ever again 😂 I'm not even upset anymore. All that random ranting this morning and now it's like, poof! Goodbye. I knew I've been done in the back of my head, I was just enjoying the attention :) it felt good! You can't blame me for wanting to feel good, it's part of human nature! And it's not like I ever felt true respect for their relationship, it was truly a farce, an act, and I just didn't gaf. Oh how the turn tables, huh? I got mine as far as I'm concerned and I'm well convinced that is a really fucked up man. It's unfortunate, but it's not like I never tried to help him 1000x. I still am shocked how unempathetic I felt towards her even when bad things happen to her, I just don't feel bad for her and I never will, she's a really trashy, vain, disgusting person who does not deserve empathy or sympathy as far as I'm concerned. Lmao I feel like he would really get pissed off whenever I said they were perfect for each other, I think bc he knows exactly what I meant by it. What a joke.

10:39pm: it's ok to wake up from the nap and realize he's really gone :) you'll sleep and wake up again and sleep and wake up and good things will happen :) it's ok to feel the twang. This is a perfect example of how I would never do this to someone I've known for years but it's nothing for him to do it to me. We are not the same and that's good news for me :) I will survive and thrive because I'm actually a good person with a heart. At least I own my mistakes. He's too chicken shit to accept my apology like a fucking adult, he just had to run away again, no explanation. He never learns, never changes, acts like this is something I've done before?? Really thinks this something I'd do on purpose. Idc I know who I am, you would think he would know but he seems too self absorbed once again. How could he not realize how his words affect people, he's cruel. I'm not cruel, you hurt me and I told you I was having PTSD like feelings about you coming here and you always have acted like you're the only mf in the whole goddamn world with mental health issues, I've tiptoed around yours for years and you continued to dismiss mine repeatedly. Yeah I don't trust you mf and it's sad af how hard I tried to, but sad for you, not me.

12:16am: Coward is so the best word to describe him still, he acted cowardly by not even knocking on the door when he came the first night, so weird. Coward by blocking me when so many other exes would've burned his shit. Makes no sense, but nothing he ever did made sense ever. He treats his gf like shit by telling me wack ass things. He's such a bad person lol. I'm not gonna chase after him anymore I already resurrected this friendship back from the email grave once, I guess somehow that meant I was on thin ice with him?? Idc I'm not chasing him anymore. The comfort I find within knowing I would never act like him is all the comfort I need.

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