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angstyaches · 1 year

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I really wanna see Blake at that point of having a stomach flu where hes sick enough that he realizes he needs to accept the help thats offered. hes puked so much that he’s probably empty but hes still got such a bad belly and the fear of what might happen is making things worse. From what little we know of them all i think Astrophel can relate to that sort of fear and might be a good calming presence to have around? or just one of the people blake would find the least irritating because at least xes usually quiet

Ahh thank you so much for requesting sick Blake, anon!

CONTEXT: This takes place TWO YEARS before the official MARS story will begin. It's Blake's second-last retreat before he misses a few. The actual story will pick up upon his return, around two or three years after this.

CW: illness, emeto, anger outbursts, magically drained, vision/prophecy, stimming, yelling and cursing.

Word Count: 1,793

___

As he opened the door, looking like a dishevelled, cadaverous ghost of himself, Blake Forte sighed, as though in heavy resignation. A silken dressing gown sat rather astutely over his button-up pyjamas, though he were proud to be in the formal uniform of the indisputably sick.

“I told Madame A that I wished to be left alone,” he mumbled. “So, naturally, this intrusion is no surprise.”

Astrophel stepped into the room with the older witch’s bedroom with the tray, much to Blake’s apparent disdain. He didn’t try to intervene, however, and just observed placidly while he withdrew to his bed.

“I do not require food,” he sighed, slinking towards the headrest with all of the listlessness and eyelid-fluttering of a Victorian wife struck down with cholera. . “My stomach is way too delicate right now.”

Astrophel laid the tray down on top of his chest of drawers regardless.

“I suppose you’ve also been tasked with checking up on my condition.”

Astrophel turned to look at him again.

“I do not see why they didn’t send the great Forrester instead. Although, admittedly, you are the least insufferable choice."

Astrophel could, at least, report to Madame A that Blake's illness had not had an effect on his personality.

"What are you going to do for me, anyway?” Blake’s eyes – one icy-blue, one the colour of tree bark – glared out at Astrophel from between swollen eyelids and the shadowy eyebags. His skin was alarmingly grey. “If you were of any use in this scenario, you’d have warned me that I was going to fall ill.”

As unreasonable as this statement was, and as safe as Astrophel felt in the knowledge that it was indeed unreasonable, it still inflicted a sour sting to something that rested just behind xyr breastbone. In Astrophel’s line of work (although it pained xem a little to call what xe did ‘work’; it felt like implying that xe had been enslaved, not chosen), building up an immunity to this kind of comment was not as easy and fast a feat as one would have hoped. People chose to feel disappointed, abandoned, betrayed, and personally attacked, based on which snippets of the future did or didn’t present themselves to Astrophel in a timely manner.

“There’s a basin under the sink,” Blake croaked. “Will you get it for me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Astrophel knew what Rex Westbury would have said in this moment. Get fucked, Forte. Or maybe, Get fucked, dickhead, if she was feeling particularly spicy and lackadaisical about putting graphic, colourful ideas into his head.

Astrophel crouched by the sink in the corner of the room – Blake had evidently been using it over the course of his stomach flu, and although he seemed to have tried to clean it, there were streaks and spatters of dried vomit near the edges. Astrophel had noticed that when it came to basic domestic tasks, Blake lacked ability, but xe supposed that this was to be expected of those who came from households like the Fortes’. Add that to the fact that, on a good day at least, Blake could probably just manifest himself a new, clean sink, along with a platter of sushi and a Long Island Iced Tea.

Astrophel had never really learned the extent of Blake’s abilities, since conversing with him was particularly taxing.

“Hurry up,” Blake grumbled.

Astrophel opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out the red plastic basin. Xe froze for a moment, stunned by the fact that there was little else on the shelves to suggest that anybody actually occupied this room. There was a toothpaste tube and a travel-sized bottle of facewash on the side of the sink (both drugstore brand), but while Astrophel and the others had need for storage of things like hand creams, body sprays, and makeup, Blake had brought... nothing.

Either he lived a surprisingly minimal lifestyle despite his upbringing, or he was unaware of how much joy he was missing out on. Astrophel, for one, couldn’t imagine dressing xemself and walking downstairs in the morning without a spritz of cologne.

Xe stood, carrying the basin towards the side of the bed where Blake had nested himself.

And then, the back of Astrophel’s neck tightened, as though a very thin layer of cement had just started to solidify beneath the surface of the skin. Xe stiffened, hands tightening around the basin as though safeguarding xemself from dropping it.

Phone, phone, phone, phone, phone, phone, phone, PHONE, PHONE, PHONE! PHONE! PHONE! –

Xe stuck one hand in xyr pocket, fingers scrambling for the lump of blue-and-yellow playdough. Xe rolled the ball gently between xyr thumb and forefinger, picturing the way the blues and yellows streaked past one another, never smudging, never mixing, so long as xyr touch was delicate.

Xyr eyes flicked towards Blake’s phone, which was perched on the nightstand and rocketed into Astrophel’s focus. The shift in xyr focus didn’t go unnoticed to Blake, and he turned his retched gaze towards the phone, too.

PHONE – PHONEEEEE – PHONY – PHONICS – TONICs – GIN AND TONIC – GINGER SNAPS – FINGER SNAP – SNAP – SNAP –

Xe took xyr hand out of xyr pocket again and snapped xyr fingers, and the screeching inside xyr head simmered into an immediate, complete silence, as though a blanket of snow had been gently draped over the landscape of xyr thoughts.

The room fell silent, too – for about five seconds, before Blake’s phone started to ring.

Blake jumped at the sound of it, his already ashen face losing even more of its colour as he eyed the illuminated screen. He seemed to take a rather nauseated swallow, though Astrophel guessed it was a different breed of nausea to the one he’d been previously fighting.

“I’m n-not… I’m not answering it,” Blake growled, as though Astrophel had asked. He slumped to the side again, facing away from the nightstand. “If my f-father wishes to s-speak with me, he is w-well within his means to come here and do so.”

Astrophel couldn’t relate to the sentiment. Xyr parents called every night at 9 p.m. and knew that if xe didn’t answer, there was a high chance that something was very wrong.

Although, if xyr biological parents one day called them out of the blue, xe might leave the phone to ring out, also, unless curiosity got the better of xem…

“This... this cannot be happening. Astrophel,” Blake choked out, pointing towards the basin in xyr hands.

Xe was stunned for a moment, wrestling with the realisation that this was the first time Blake had used xyr new name. He’d never exactly deadnamed xem, but had rather gone about with an air of avoidance. Xe only basked in the warmth of this development for a couple of beats, before realising that Blake was trembling and swallowing back vomit.

Astrophel gave an urgent little hum as an apology and thrust the basin in his direction.

Blake didn’t sit up or change position, put rather scooped the basin into his embrace and curled up around it, like it were a small child or animal that he’d been tasked with protecting while it slept.

“I’m in terrible, horrible pain right now.” Blake whispered so quietly that it seemed like he hardly wanted to be heard. His eyelids fluttered again, this time remaining shut.

If Astrophel had been expected to speak, or if Blake would understand xyr sign language, xe still didn’t know what xe would have said. Perhaps the urge to try to comfort Blake would have won out - You’ll be alright. Don’t worry.

Once again, xe found xemself imagining what Rex would say, if she’d been sent to Blake’s room instead. Maybe she’d have said nothing at all. She wouldn’t exactly revel in the fact that a fellow witch had been struck with what seemed to be an awful virus and reduced to a shivering mess, but she was still angry enough with Blake that she, too, might have refrained from comforting him.

"Wh-why is this... why is this happening now?" Blake's voice dipped even lower. Astrophel was growing more and more certain that he was not addressing xem, particularly as xe had no idea of the significance of now.

Then again, Blake Forte lived in a world where his problems were centric to everyone around him.

He threw up so quietly that Astrophel blinked in surprise at the brightly pigmented stomach contents that suddenly crashed into the bottom of the basin. Tendrils clung thickly to Blake’s lips, and he was either too weak or too unfazed by Astrophel’s presence to spit or wipe it away.

Astrophel turned xyr gaze towards the wallpaper over the headrest. Xe still wondering what xe should do when Blake’s phone lit up again, buzzing harshly on the painted wood.

“Ah!” Blake screamed, as though the phone had caused him some bodily harm as it had started up, “just shut the fuck up!”

The effort of yelling made him break into a coughing fit, and before Astrophel could process his outburst, he was retching up bile again. One hand left the basin so that he could gingerly cradle his stomach.

Astrophel didn’t realise it until it didn’t happen, but xe had expected Blake’s command to make the phone’s buzzing cease. It did not.

A sound came from the sick witch, which was neither a retch nor a cough, but something that might have translated into a sob if he’d had any strength left to turn it into one.

The sight was so pitiful that Astrophel’s empathetic side won out, and xe placed a hand lightly on Blake’s shoulder.

And, well... he must have found some secret reserve of energy somewhere, because he turned his head again and let loose a scratchy cry;

“Don’t touch me!”

Astrophel took a prompt step backwards, partially out of self-preservation, but mostly in the hope that it would make Blake stop screaming at everything.

"Just get the hell out of my room. I don't... I d-don't need you," Blake croaked, once again settling into a curled position around his basin. "And do not let Forrester or Westbury come here."

If he'd been a man of more words, perhaps Blake would have said, If Madame A sends anyone to check on me again, please make sure it's you.

But perhaps Astrophel was reading too far into it.

Xe nodded, continuing to do so as they rounded the bed and came into Blake's line of sight - just making sure that he could see xem nodding. So that he could see that xe understood. Or didn't understand. He'd see what he wanted to see, at the end of the day.

"Thanks," he muttered, shutting his eyes before Astrophel had even opened the door to let xemself out.

#MARS Blake #MARS Astrophel #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #sickfic #OC sickfic #emeto #emeto fic #emetophilia #vomit fic #witch OCs #fantasy sickfic #fantasy emeto #angst #angst fic #whump fic

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angstyaches · 1 year

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Would you be willing to make a sort of species guide for StW? Like what are the characteristics of your vampires, werewolves/shapeshifters, demons, demon eaters and witches? And how might someone identify one? Here are some q’s to get the ideas flowing but feel free to do your own thing or to decline if you want us to learn these things through the stories

Vampires: Do they sparkle in the sun or have an aversion to garlic? Do they get crazed by the scent of blood or are they more in control? Are they cold to the touch? Can they reproduce or do certain or all biological functions cease at a certain point in the transformation? What is the transformation process/how many stages are there and what characteristics does the vampire have at each stage? Is anyone who is bitten by a vampire turned or can a vampire feed on a human without turning them? Can a transformation be reversed? At what stage of the transformation can a vampire turn others? Do all vampires have the same abilities? Are abilities inherited somehow or are they unique to each vampire? What is the vampire social structure like?

Werewolves/Shapeshifters: Can they eat chocolate? Do they only transform during the full moon or can they do so at will? Is there a physical/mental toll either pre, during or post transformation? Are they stronger/faster/do they have heightened senses while not transformed? What makes someone a shapeshifter? Is it inherited genetically or do you have to be turned by another shapeshifter? How do you get turned? Do they have a pack or community or are they generally solitary?

Demons/Hybrids: Can they possess someone at will or do they have to be invited? Do demons have a physical form or are they more of a shadowy entity? Could they leave their host if they wanted to or do they form a dependence? Is the bond generally symbiotic? How does the bond affect the host and is this different depending on the type of demon? Does the host experience physical changes when possessed? Can the host generally access and use the demons abilities at will? Where do the demons come from? Is there a community or are they solitary beings?

Demon Eaters: Are they more physically capable than humans? Can they sense demons or do they have to stumble upon them/hunt them down? How do they hunt demons? Are there clear signs to indicate a demon has been in the area or is nearby? Can they manipulate or control demons in any way? Can they be sustained by eating demons alone? Is the ability generally passed on genetically or can you become a demon eater? Do they generally work alone or do they have a community?

Witches: Are there different types of witches? Can anyone learn to work with magic or do you have to be born with the ability? Is it generally passed on genetically or is it random? If passed on genetically, is it possible for one member of a family to be born without magical aptitude? Can these people still be involved in the community or are they generally more removed? If random, how do witches find each other/know they aren’t just hallucinating? How do witches use magic? Are there spells, potions, rituals? Are there ways of increasing magical power? Is it like a muscle that gets stronger with use or can power be increased with a staff or another type of catalyst?

Bonus: Are there other supernatural beings in your world that you think are particularly interesting?

Thank you for all of these lovely questions! As always with my worldbuilding stuff, everything I say is subject to change if I change my mind, or (the more likely) I forget the lore of my own story.

Answers under the cut 🖤 If they suck or they don't make sense, it's because I've been in a weird brain fog for a few days now and I can't seem to shake it.

Vampires

Do they sparkle in the sun?

No; they just have more sensitive skin that’s more prone to sun damage, depending on whether they’re fully turned or just half.

Aversion to garlic?

Fully-fledged vampires, yes. It causes extreme nausea and violent vomiting. Ryan can’t even smell it without a reaction.

Crazed by the scent of blood or in control?

It depends on the personality of the vampire, as well as how long they’ve been denied food and blood. A starving vampire will fall victim to their cravings more easily than one who’s fed recently.

Are they cold to the touch?

This one, I go back and forth on, and I’m sure I’ve been inconsistent with it in my fics at this stage.

I’d like to say with full certainty that half-vamps have just a slightly lower body temperature than humans, while fully-blooded vampires are much colder, and that their body temperature would actually be affected by whether or not they’ve consumed blood recently… but like I said, I’m sure this could be disproven by my own writing.

Can they reproduce?

I actually haven’t thought about it too much, but I’m going to say no because that makes the most sense to me. Half-vampires probably could, especially if they’re reproducing with a human, but vampire laws wouldn’t allow it, because there is so little known about it and the offspring’s wellbeing wouldn’t be guaranteed. Vampires have a lot of laws about mixing species.

Can vampires feed without turning the human?

Yes, they can! Turning is a deliberate process that requires a special venom, whose production can only be stimulated by strong, sincere intent.

Can a transformation be reversed?

Not that anyone is aware of.

At what stage can a vampire turn others?

It depends on the vampire or half-vampire’s strength. Some half-vamps can produce the required venom, but are forbidden from doing so even if they can manage it. Otherwise, it’s mostly the older, stronger, fully-turned vampires called Elders who have the ability to change others, and are permitted to (if the right paperwork is submitted to the council etc.).

Do all vampires have the same abilities? Are the abilities inherited or unique?

All vamps and half-vamps all have enhanced senses and reflexes, as well as increased body strength. The level of these depends on their age, their training, and their heritage (Elliott’s strength and stamina are due to the fact that he was turned and nurtured by Ryan, a particularly powerful Elder vampire; Felix’s abilities are weaker because he was turned by a half-vampire).

Some, but not all, fully-fledged vamps have extra supernatural abilities (Watson: can turn into a giant bat; Elliott: can turn into a swarm of bats; Ryan: power of persuasion) that manifest according to their own strengths and characteristics.

What is the vampire social structure like?

The Elders are essentially the ones in charge of maintaining order amongst those in their bloodline, and also make up the council of vampires who make big decisions that could affect the entire community. Full-bloods who aren’t Elders also have occasional responsibilities, which include community service and law keeping.

The council of vampires also precedes over the other supernatural creatures, since they have the greatest population (and they were strongest in the past and nobody really wanted to challenge them) and the closest lives with humans.

Werewolves/Shapeshifters

Can they eat chocolate?

Yes! But they have a strong aversion to silver jewellery, and will break out in a rash and eventually develop burns from it.

Do they only transform during the full moon or can they do so at will?

At will.

Is there a physical/mental toll either pre-, during, or post transformation?

Physical, yes. It’s an exhausting and occasionally painful process.

Mental, sometimes. Mitsuko, in particular, struggles with controlling herself when she transforms, and has the most trouble processing things after she’s switched back to human form.

Are they stronger/faster/do they have heightened senses while not transformed?

Nope!

What makes someone a shapeshifter? Is it inherited genetically or do you have to be turned by another shapeshifter?

It’s a genetic condition that activates at a certain age. Kazuhito was a late bloomer, and only developed his ability when he did because he prayed repeatedly to the fox god, who changed his target animal from a wolf to a fox. He often wonders if other animal deities could grant the gift to regular humans who weren’t born with the shapeshifting ability, but he’s never voiced his theory to anybody who could possibly look into it.

Do they have a pack or community or are they generally solitary?

In the past, they would have stuck in packs, but in modern days, there’s no exact rule for it. Some stick with their biological family members for a lot of their life, while others go out on their own. Kazu and Mitsuko have traumatic childhood experiences that have pushed them away from the family unit, but they’re doing their best to still be there for each other.

Demons

Can they possess someone at will or do they have to be invited?

If they’re strong enough, they can possess and control anybody they please.

Do demons have a physical form or are they more of a shadowy entity?

Both! Demons have physical and ethereal aspects; the physical aspect is something that was possessed and/or absorbed from our world, while the demon’s soul itself is from another realm.

Could they leave their host if they wanted to or do they form a dependence?

They could leave their host/object if they needed to, but they would be a lot weaker and more vulnerable. Most demons wouldn’t choose to do so willingly, once they learned the security of having a host.

Is the bond generally symbiotic?

Generally speaking, no! Charlie and Charlie Two are the first known human/demon pair to function the way they do, so in-world, there’s very little known about this kind of symbiosis, or “affiliation” as they come to call it in canon.

How does the bond affect the host and is this different depending on the type of demon?

Regardless of its type, a demon would generally have destructive intentions on a human host. This would include mental strain, confusion, painful mind sharing, lost chunks of time where the demon took control, and any number of bodily ailments, too.

Does the host experience physical changes when possessed?

Most victims of possession wouldn’t exhibit any physical changes that other people could see or notice. In Charlie and CT’s case, Charlie only experiences physical changes because of how deeply bonded they are.

Can the host generally access and use the demon’s abilities at will?

Unless we’re talking about a case like Charlie and CT, it would take an extremely tough human to tap into a demon’s powers like that. Most likely, a demon wouldn’t continue to try to possess a person with that much willpower, and would just leave them.

Where do the demons come from?

They come from The Other Side, a demon realm adjacent to our world. I hope to keep expanding upon it as a concept, but for now, it’s all very vague, I apologise.

Is there a community or are they solitary beings?

Demons are chaotic creatures who don’t seek order or community or security. They mostly just want to feed on whatever it is they crave and exert their influence over. Charlie Two is eloquent and craves connection because of how long they’ve spent attached to Charlie’s consciousness.

Demon Eaters

Are they more physically capable than humans?

In terms of speed, yes. Dahlia could move impossibly fast, practically melting into a shadow while she hunted. Shayne inherited a weaker form of this ability, since he’s half-human. Unfortunately, there are no natural benefits in terms of physical strength.

Can they sense demons or do they have to stumble upon them/hunt them down?

A bit of both! Shayne sometimes gets a weird feeling, like he’s being watched, if there’s a demon nearby, but it’s sometimes hard for him to distinguish this from general anxiety (he sits in class with Charlie for almost a month before realising he’s possessed).

How do they hunt demons?

If they can lock onto that sense that there’s a demon nearby, it’s not too hard for them to tap into that feeling and just follow it until they find the source. Demon eaters can catch and wrestle demons into an ideal position before devouring them, but it’s easier to use magically-enhanced devices, like Madelyn’s jars.

Are there clear signs to indicate a demon has been in the area or is nearby?

No. It’d be the same as trying to figure out if a human had just walked through the area; unless there’s a distinct disturbance of some kind, it’d be extremely hard to tell.

Can they manipulate or control demons in any way?

Demon eaters can command demons in their custody to do anything they want, so long as they don’t escape. This is done by employing their demonic speech, which demon hunters have an inherent knowledge of. As a weak hybrid version of a demon eater, Shayne can only command them to answer questions.

Can they be sustained by eating demons alone?

True demon eaters survive exclusively by eating demons! I can’t remember if I ever wrote/posted about it, but Dahlia didn’t and couldn’t eat human food. She didn’t even have a sense of taste. Shayne only needs to eat food because he’s half-human.

Is the ability passed on or can you become a demon eater?

It’s passed on.

Do they generally work alone or do they have a community?

Demon eaters are rare and tend to keep to themselves, to the point where Dahlia was the only one that anybody in the vampire sphere was aware of.

Witches

Are there different types of witches?

The main distinction that exists is that some witches have inherent magical abilities (type 1), and others are born with the capacity for magic but have to study and practice to unlock it (type 2). Nancy and Blake are type 1s; Lilith, Astrophel, and Rex are type 2s.

They can also be categorised according to their aptitudes. For example, Lilith and Nancy are both healing witches, Blake can transform thoughts into reality, Astrophel is clairvoyant, and Rex can manipulate the veil between worlds.

Can anyone learn to work with magic or do you have to be born with the ability?

You have to be born with the capacity for magic to flow through you.

Is it generally passed on genetically or is it random?

It can be either! It’s most common for witches to inherit magic, but it’s not unknown for babies to be randomly born with it. Witches that come from strong magical backgrounds are sometimes called legacies. Blake, Rex, and Lilith are legacies; Nancy and Astrophel are both born of humans.

If passed on genetically, is it possible for one member of a family to be born without magical aptitude? Can these people still be involved in the community or are they generally more removed?

Yes, it is possible. It’s also possible for someone born with magical capabilities to lose them, or let their strength dwindle to the point where it would be almost impossible to reinvigorate them. The latter is the case with Lilith’s sister, Nadya. In her case, she is fairly far removed from the witching world, but isn’t exactly estranged from Lilith or their family.

If random, how to witches find each other/know they aren’t just hallucinating?

Astrophel spent years trying to decipher the messages xe kept getting from the stars about Nancy, but eventually xe was able to track her down. Witches who don’t have clairvoyance, or another method of communicating with or finding the witch community would struggle a lot more.

However, the supernatural community, including the council of vampires, does keep an ear out for odd occurrences like that, just in case there’s a witch (or other) out there who doesn’t know how to contact anyone.

How do witches use magic? Are there spells, potions, rituals?

Yes, all of the above. Magic can be used on the spot, channelled directly from the user onto their environment (spells), or poured into physical objects (potions, enchanted items, etc.). Rituals would probably be the rarest form, used only in cases where a lot of time and magical energy is required.

Are there ways of increasing magical power?

Exposure to magical or otherworldly energies can increase a witch’s capacity for magic.

Is it like a muscle that gets stronger with use or can power be increased with a staff or another type of catalyst?

If a witch had a magical object that amplified their powers, it would only expand the brute force of their power. The way they get stronger is by learning the pathways that work the best, take the least toll on their body, and achieve the most accurate results. So I guess it’s a mixture of both.

Bonus

Are there any other supernatural beings in your world that you think are particularly interesting?

They’re very underdeveloped because when I started to delve into this, I found it a little too morbid to think about, but zombies exist in Swallow the World as well. Not the mindless, groaning, constantly ravenous kind a la The Walking Dead, but undead creatures kind of similar to vampires but who need flesh instead of blood, and without the strength, the supernatural powers, the immortality, etc. that vampires have.

#Swallow the World #Swallow the Worldbuilding #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #OC stuff #writing stuff

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angstyaches · 1 year

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i’d love if you wrote something really soft! maybe a combination of 7 and 17 from the 100 word comfortember prompts. for astrophel maybe? i dunno if that’s too tricky to pull off… your mars ocs don’t seem as close as the lucyverse or sharlieverse ones but i love all your characters so if you think it’s a better fit for someone else, i’ll be happy to read whatever you come up with!

A late offering for both:

Comfortember (@comfortember) Day 7: Comfort Item and Day 17: Falling Asleep On Someone

And Novemetober (@monthofsick) Day 17: Totally Drained/Exhausted.

CW: visions, hearing voices, magical exhaustion, fainting, panic, confusion, emeto, memory loss.

Note: Astrophel uses he/him and neopronouns.

Note 2: This will be integral to the actual Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking story.

___

Astrophel wondered if anybody had ever gazed into the face of their romantic partner and pondered how bizarre their features were. Human faces, placed under too much observation and dissection, must surely have come apart and dissolved into chaos like a Picasso painting. Xe wondered if xyr own face ever made anybody laugh because of how obscenely ridiculous its structure was, of how many stories it told, of how it gave away everything and yet nothing all at once.

Because this was how the stars began to look after a certain point. Chaotic. Silly. And yet, precisely where they needed to be.

However, the stars required reverence, obedience, passivity. They didn’t always take kindly to suggestions, and they certainly didn’t take requests like a jukebox in a grungy diner. Sometimes they simply resisted Astrophel’s probing, and other times they outwardly punished xem for it, flooding xyr mind with demise and devastation and death.

Usually, they told the tales of strangers, but Astrophel had learned a long time ago that in this game, there were no strangers. Not when years or months of someone’s life could be compressed into your mind like a short film; not when faces could become seared into your prefrontal cortex; not when those faces could appear on trains or at bus stops or libraries and you couldn’t help but burst into tears as though you were reuniting with an old friend.

Tonight, xe had brought it on xemself. The stars didn’t seem all too happy with xem for trying to steer the conversation.

Astrophel, they whispered in between flashes of horrific imagery, and nothing else. Their tone was indiscernible, so Astrophel felt as though xe was being coaxed and chided and warned and comforted all at once.

“Astrophel.”

Oh, stars, xyr eyes burned. All xe wanted to do was blink. Rest. Dream about something that wasn’t actually happening in some place, at some time. Escape.

Xe could already tell that this was the kind of vision that xe wouldn’t recall immediately upon regaining earthly consciousness, but the kind that would have xem experiencing PTSD-style flashbacks over the course of the next few days, even weeks. The longer xe stayed in the vision, the longer the flashbacks would endure, and with that in mind, Astrophel began the process of exiting.

Someone was calling xem, after all.

Don’t let go yet, the stars whispered, becoming chatty now that Astrophel was preparing to leave the conversation. We still have so much to show you, lover...

“Ast!” came a much harsher voice, one which Astrophel sensed in xyr eardrums and not just in their consciousness.

“Come on, Ast-Hat, you’ve gotta come back to us now, okay?”

Don’t go, lover.

Astrophel pushed xyr hand out, feeling as though xe was punching xyr way through a wall made of gravel. When warmth enveloped it, xe was able to gasp, and xe blinked.

Instead of the stars, xe was looking at a dark sky; a hefty layer of cloud hid the stars from xyr sight; and xem from theirs.

Xe was stood alongside a copper weather vain, which seemed familiar, although xe had never seen it up close before. It was almost as tall as xem. Xyr feet were bare and gripping for purchase on rust-brown roof tiles.

The tops of the trees were at eye level, and swooped across a landscape with far fewer dimensions than the one xyr mind had just returned from. The relief of the still, peaceful scenery far overpowered the twinge of fear in the pit of Astrophel’s stomach, the one that was quietly whispering, Oh, stars, why am I on the roof?

A light mist of rain was making xyr eyelashes flutter.

“Astrophel.”

Astrophel slowly looked down. There was a hand holding xyrs, bronze alongside xyr honey skin. Xe looked up, and almost fell into the violet pools of Rex’s eyes.

She always had a pretty face, no matter how many times Astrophel had gazed upon it. Maybe she owed that to her ability to put up walls, to hide the things that made her vulnerable.

After all, wasn’t that essentially her job outside of these walls – to present herself as marketable, palatable, ideal?

To her left stood Lilith, who seemed ready to put their hands out at a second’s notice. Lilith had a nice face, too; they had a sprinkling of beauty marks along their cheek and jawline that reminded Astrophel of the constellation Delphinus.

Astrophel felt a tickle in xyr chest at the thought of Lilith opening their mouth and barking like a dolphin while all three of them were on the rooftop of Madame A’s winter abode.

But xe must have made a far more concerning sound than a laugh, because Rex stepped in closer and grabbed xyr elbow, as though she thought xe was going to float away into the night.

“Astrophel,” she was saying sternly. “What’s happening? What are you doing up here?”

Astrophel knew that there was a possibility that the moment xe opened xyr mouth, the world would implode. A million words might pour out of xyr mouth and break the sound barrier. But xe parted xyr lips anyway.

And promptly blacked out in Rex’s arms.

___

“Lilith... Lilith, hey!”

Astrophel stirred and wondered, for a moment, if xe was Lilith in the scenario that was about to unfold. Maybe xe had fallen into another visiona and had been placed into Lilith’s timeline and was living as them until the stars bid otherwise.

If it was so, then Astrophel held no power to make it otherwise.

“Oh, fuck, oh, no. Why’s he – Ast's panicking. Rex. Rex, do you know what’s happening?”

Ast. Wait, that’s... me.

(I can’t breathe.)

And that was Lilith’s voice. So therefore, Lilith is Lilith.

(I can’t -)

And I am me.

Xe opened xyr eyes and was instantly convinced xe was dying. Xyr lungs felt like they were filled with tar and xyr chest heaved and xyr throat whined with the effort of breathing. The only thing that gave xem pause, made the breath catch in xyr throat alongside xyr pounding heart, was Rex’s face looking down at xem.

She looked... so, so upset. One lock of her hair was pulled loose from her ponytail; she had a habit of tugging at it when she was stressed. She laid a hand on top of Astrophel’s, and let out a soft sob when xe squeezed.

I am me.

A shuddering breath left Astrophel’s lungs, though it was a little steadier than before.

“Oh. Astrophel.” dropped her forehead against the back of Astrophel’s hand, almost as though she were bowing. She cackled weakly. “Don’t scare us like that.”

“Oh!” Lilith’s hair looked like it’d been tipped over their head in the wrong direction too many times as they popped up from the floor. They shuffled up to the edge of the chaise longue, a grin slowly developing across their face. “You back with us, Ast-Hat?”

When... when had they all ended up in the library?

The floor-to-ceiling windows that split the bookshelves into three separate units were obscured with pale curtains that hung like gossamer against the darkness beyond. The bookshelves and the strips of pinstriped wallpaper seemed to stretch on forever, blurring into oblivion before Astrophel’s eyes could even focus on the ceiling.

The weight of xyr last vision still clung to xyr mind and insides, like a life-changing sense of dread.

Xe whimpered, rolling xyr weight to the side as a wave of nausea rolled over xem.

“Sit up,” Lilith said in a hushed voice. “You gotta drink something.”

They either didn’t realise Astrophel was feeling woozy, or thought that fluids would help somehow. Either way, Astrophel trusted them.

Xe let out another whimper as xe tried to sit up.

“Give him a sec,” Rex said, scowling at Lilith. She pulled herself up onto the edge of the chaise longue, offering her arms to Astrophel.

“The quicker xe gets rehydrated, the better.”

Astrophel blinked, xyr stomach settling a little as xe focused on what Lilith was holding in their hands. They must have let themself into Astrophel’s room, because they were holding xyr favourite mug. Xe packed it up and took it with xem on retreat every year – the Aldridges’ country house was homely in many aspects, but Astrophel had always preferred certain things to be consistent.

Thank you, xe signed quickly. Xyr rings clinked against the glossy coating as xe wrapped xyr hands greedily around the mug.

It wasn’t xyr fanciest or most expensive mug, nor was it the most accurate representation of the sky that xe owned. In fact, in terms of fidelity to the night sky, its design was almost laughable – Canis Major was far too cramped, and Ursa Major’s tail had one too many kinks in it.

But there was something enthralling and invaluable about seeing the stars so beautifully over-simplified within the confines of the pottery. Even the “stars” themselves looked more like sloppy full-stops than celestial bodies.

A sky full of full-stops. Now, that would be something.

It gave xem a lot of peace to imagine the galaxies as two-dimensional, as though all of the stars were equally distanced from the earth, turning in gentle time, dancing some perfect dance that was intrinsically written into every atom in the universe.

As though xe didn’t know that the stars were dead, and whimsical, and oftentimes mean.

“Ast, sip,” Lilith gently reminded xem.

Astrophel realised xe had begun to rotate the cup in xyr hands, mindlessly drinking in the comfort of appearance rather than its contents. Xe blushed and brought the rim of the cup to xyr lips, finding that xyr arms barely had the strength to lift it.

But the drink was cool and smooth, laced with replenishing supplies of salt and sugar, plus a hit of lemon that reminded Astrophel of summer and childhood. As soon as it coated Astrophel’s throat, xyr insides seemed to turn into a vacuum and demand everything left in the mug.

Neither Lilith nor Rex seemed surprised by the gusto with which xe tilited xyr had back and gulped.

“Ast,” Rex said. “Do you remember why you went up on the roof, or why you were up there all day?”

Astrophel sucked on air and coughed, lowering the empty mug from xyr face.

“Now who’s trying to rush xem?” Lilith chided Rex.

That bad feeling crept back into Astrophel’s stomach. Not only did xe not have any recollection of how or why xe’d ended up on the roof, but xe had also been missing all day? If xe hadn’t already been sitting down, xyr legs would have failed xem as that information sank in.

No wonder xyr body felt like a desert in need of irrigation. Xe looked down at xyr mug and tilted it, just to confirm that it was empty. Xe was starting to regret just how quickly xe had drank it all.

A roll of renewed queasiness made xem shiver. A low gurgle began to crawl towards the back of xyr throat.

The colour of Astrophel’s face must have matched the sudden onset of nausea because Rex hurried off the chaise longue and towards Lilith’s well-stocked medical kit.

Astrophel looked at Lilith and gestured – pleaded with xyr eyes – with them to take the mug back from xyr trembling hands.

“I got it, I got it,” Lilith said soothingly, catching hold of the mug by hooking their fingertips around various points of the rim.

“Here,” Rex sighed, sitting back down.

Xe reached out and grabbed the emesis bag that she’d liberated from Lilith’s bag.

The cramp had begun right in the depths of xyr guts, and now it was forcing its way up and out. A sticky white mixture of salt drink and stomach acid dripped from xyr lips as xe clutched the sick bag beneath xyr chin.

Lights flashed every time Astrophel blinked, mapping out the position of the stars xe’d spent so long lost amongst. It was like blinking into the sun and searing its likeness into the backs of your eyelids, only it dragged up the swirling images from the depths of Astrophel’s being every time xe saw it –

Images breaking apart.

Concepts too large for a human mind to contain.

So much water inside a glass jar that it clinks and shatters –

Astrophel gripped xyr stomach with one hand, and Lilith had to grab the sick bag to hold it in place as xe choked up more vomit. It clung drily to xyr throat and coated xyr tongue, so that Astrophel had to force xemself to cough before it spilled into the bag. Xe could barely see, even with xyr eyes open, so xe could only pray xyr aim wasn’t too far off.

Astrophel slumped back, exhausted, not because xe felt like xe was finished throwing up, but because xe desperately wanted to be.

Xe pressed xyr hands to xyr face, hoping that if xe pressed the heels of xyr hands into xyr eye sockets for long enough, the remnants of the visions would dissipate. Or at least retreat. Rex placed a hand on xyr back, her shoulder brushing against xyrs, but while the contact was comforting on a surface level, it did little to soothe xyr internal turmoil – both in the mental and physical sense.

The details of certain messages needed time to develop, like a polaroid. That was all this was.

That was all this –

Lover, we have so much more to show you, they had said.

Xyr stomach flipped over.

More. As if xe wasn’t already overflowing, the stars had wanted to fill them with even more.

Astrophel shook xyr head, tears streaming down xyr face as xyr hand flailed, reaching for the bag again.

Lilith handed it over and Astrophel gripped it with both hands and drew it close to xyr mouth. Xyr back contracted and xyr insides clenched, dry and aching. It felt like xyr stomach was close to folding itself in half.

Astrophel could sense Lilith’s pulsating energy draw close, even more intensely than xe could feel Rex’s embrace. Their hand was neither warm nor cold as they laid a palm on top of Astrophel’s head, applying just enough force to be felt, without pushing xyr head down.

Astrophel gagged weakly and carried on heaving into the bag.

“Getting anything?” Rex asked. She wrapped her arms even further around Astrophel’s body, not seeming to care about the fact that xe couldn’t stop spewing up fluids.

“Literally just over-exertion.” There was a touch of despair in Lilith’s voice as they spoke. “Ast, it… it feels to me like you’ve been using your magic all day.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rex exhaled. “I think… I think we should tell Madame A.”

Astrophel clamped xyr lips together and groaned deeply – it almost sounded like a growl, and it stung like razorblades in xyr already-battered throat, but xe didn’t care.

Xe looked up and met Rex’s gaze, and her mouth bobbed open.

“Yeah, Madame A will send him home, for sure,” Lilith mused, seemingly in agreement with Astrophel’s wordless objection. They coaxed the sick bag out of Astrophel’s hands again.

“But maybe... maybe it’s better if you go home?” Rex’s voice trembled. “There's so much chaotic energy here. Maybe it’s too much. This type of thing doesn’t happen at the university, does it?”

Astrophel hesitated, mostly because it was taking xem longer than usual to comprehend what was being said. Rex’s eyes widened, as though she had been sure, but wasn’t anymore.

“Does it, Astrophel?”

Sharpening up at the alarm in her voice, Astrophel strategically shook xyr head. It wouldn't do any good to let Rex and Lilith know that this wasn’t the first time that xe’d lost time in the past few months. Xe had never wandered during these absent sessions before, though; xe had simply blinked and found that several hours – rather than seconds – had passed, either in xyr room or xyr office at the university.

But now that this had happened, the idea of being alone was brutally unsettling; Astrophel needed to stay here, at Madame A’s, with the people who understood xem more than anyone else in the world.

Please, xe signed, leaning a little harder into Rex. I want to stay.

Rex’s face crumpled.

“Well, first things first,” Lilith said, reaching to pick up Astrophel's mug. “Let’s try again to get some more fluids into you. Maybe some food, if you’re feeling better afterwards. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Astrophel was already miserably aware of that fact, as xyr stomach shifted and clenched uneasily, having emptied out the mugfull of Lilith’s drink that had been so pleasant on the way down.

Rex settled herself properly on the chaise longue, so that Astrophel could keep leaning into her for support.

After a couple more cool sips of Lilith’s drink from xyr replenished mug, Astrophel thought that maybe xyr stomach was settling, xyr head was clearing, and that something that resembled restful sleep was closing in on xem.

Rex began stroking the outside of xyr arm, and Astrophel got the feeling she was doing it in place of tugging at her hair to keep her worry at bay.

As xe swallowed, guilt threatened to overwhelm xem. Over-exerting oneself, getting lost in visions to the point where you lost time – these were, unfortunately, regular occurrences. Forgivable slip-ups. They were all witches in the modern era, who were only given a fraction of the year to truly dedicate their energy to their talents – all of them had overdone it more times than they’d care to admit.

But ending up on the roof, with no collection of how xe’d gotten there? That was… new, and the thought of it made Astrophel break out in goosebumps.

Xyr body – and, even more so, xyr mind – felt sticky, tainted, violated.

Lilith was chewing on their thumb nail, brown eyes darting back and forth and trying to catch Astrophel’s gaze as xyr eyelids fluttered. “The hell happened to you, Ast-Hat?” they asked softly, as though it was intended as a rhetorical question, and not one that they were demanding an immediate answer to.

“Don’t you dare forget that we’re here for you,” Rex added, nudging the side of her face against Astrohel’s head. “Any of us will help you, any time you need.”

Lilith folded their arms and clicked their tongue. “Well. Except, maybe –”

“Yes, except Blake, obviously,” Rex murmured.

Astrophel blinked a little dizzily as xe tried for another gulp of xyr drink. It didn’t feel like the right moment to reveal to the other two that it’d actually been Blake who’d helped xem to bed the night before. Xe had all but blacked out on the way back from the library the previous night, and Blake had been wandering the hallways for stars-knew what reason when he’d come across xem.

“Anyway. I’m concerned about your blood sugar,” Lilith said, rising from where they were crouched on the floor. “I’m going to go and make you a sandwich or something. Let’s see how you do with that.”

Astrophel nodded. Despite the hollow clawing in xyr stomach, xe didn’t exactly feel hungry, but as soon as Lilith had a treatment in mind, it was near impossible to steer them in any other direction. Besides, food was one of the best ways of reconnecting with the world after being caught in a vision for a long time.

That, and human contact.

And speaking of which…

Rex was still stroking the tips of her fingers along the outside of Astrophel’s arm, and xe couldn’t help the way xe sank deeper and deeper into her embrace with each passing second.

Almost in unison with her, xe dragged the tip of xyr thumb along the side of xyr cup, tracing the line from one star to the next. The idea of stars as full-stops slipped into xyr mind again, tickling xyr brain. Xyr eyelids began to droop, xyr grip on the mug loosening, as xyr mind lingered on the way full-stops could be interpreted, in most cases, as endings.

Xe was barely aware of it when Rex gently prised the mug out of xyr hands before it could tumble to the floor.

And then, for the second time that day, Astrophel lost consciousness in Rex’s arms. Only xe did it a little bit more peacefully this time.

#MARS Astrophel #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #Novemetober #novemetober 2022 #comfortember #comfortember 2022 #emeto #sickfic #magical exhaustion #hurt and comfort #hurt comfort #witch OCs #MARS Lilith #MARS Rex #OC sickfic #OC emeto

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angstyaches · 1 year

Text

2023 WIP List

2022 | Masterlist | DNI and Interaction Guide | 100 Word Drabbles

Fics will not necessarily get finished in chronological order; I am at the mercy of my brain and whatever it feels like doing, but I’ll try to get each one done within a reasonable amount of time.

However! If you see a descriptor that piques your interest, feel free to prod me (send me a little ask).

Swallow the World - Shayne and Charlie:

Hunger-induced stomach ache ✔️

Sleepy sick Charlie ✔️

Sleepy sick Charlie Part Two ✔️

Both sick and Charlie calls Ingrid ✔️

Demon-sick Shayne ✔️

Kink story ✔️

Sleeping sickee (request by Tiny) ✔️

Townhouse sleepover (request by 🍄 anon)

Sick + guilt (request by ordinary they) ✔️

Dialogue prompt from this post (anon) Part One ✔️ | Part Two ✔️

Stomach ache prompt (anon) ✔️

Charlie burping request (Ivy) ✔️

Swallow the World - Elliott and Felix:

First Kiss (anon) ✔️

Burping/gas (anon) ✔️

Dialogue prompt (request by 🍄 anon) ✔️

Felix strength (🍄 anon) ✔️

Sick Felix / sleepy prompts (anon / 🍄 anon) ✔️

Sick Elliott from the emoji prompt list (request by 🍄 anon)

Swallow the World - others:

Sick Ryan and Caretaker Nancy (🍄 anon) ✔️

Sick Bastian, caretaker Mitsuko (🍄 anon) ✔️

Lucyverse:

Sick Henry, caretaker Donnacha ✔️

Henry sick + cuddles (Ivy) ✔️

Donnacha sick (dialogue prompts from fever and emeto oh my AND anon) ✔️

Payton’s drink gets spiked ✔️

Henry sick (anon) ✔️

Autumn sick (anon) Part One | Part Two ✔️

Donnacha sick (🍄 anon)

Autumn with Payton and Donnacha as caretakers ( 🍄 anon)

Madame A’s Retreat for Spellworking:

Sick Blake, caretaker Astrophel ✔️

🦇🎃 HALLOWEEN 2023 🎃🦇

Bastian + spooky cocktails (🍄 anon) + 🫀 realistic gore (Soup)

Donnacha Halloween fic (anony 🐭) ✔️ 🆕

Sick or Treat: Shayne + 🍫 overindulgence (wussifer + anon) ✔️

Charlie and Shayne + 👁️ seen too much (🍄 anon) ✔️

Charlie + 🐈‍⬛ superstition (anon) ✔️

Lucyverse + 😈 prank gone wrong (anon) ✔️

Felix +🧹 motion sickness (we-stan-evie-frye) ✔️

Felix + 🎆 sensory overload (anon) ✔️

Updated: 12th October 2023

#blog stuff #WIP stuff #writing stuff #Swallow the World #Lucyverse #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #stomach ache #emeto #sickfic #sickfic writer #emeto writer #emetophilia #body horror

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angstyaches · 1 year

Text

Page Sixty-Nine

Lilith Mars Forrester (they/them) and Blake Forte (he/him) belong to my WIP, Madame A’s Retreat for Spellworking.

No sickness or whump. Just a snippet with character vibes.

___

It was late afternoon, and Lilith had just found Blake in the library. He was cradling a leather-bound book in both hands and his back was slightly arched as he sat in the green-and-orange chair that he’d re-established as his designated ‘reading’ spot ever since his return. Lilith would have liked to scoff at his audacity, but had to admit that the tangerine tinge of his hair, and the dark tones that wove through most of his clothing choices, suited the aesthetic of the upholstery. He and that chair looked like a painting.

Unluckily for him, Lilith believed in a firm rift between the art and the artist. Blake and that chair and that book might all look beautiful together, but they knew the bullshit behind the visuals.

They walked right over to him and slapped the book out of his hands.

Its covers collapsed together and it flipped onto its back side before landing on the floorboards with a thunk.

"Hey!” Blake screamed. “You made me lose my page, asshole."

"Page sixty-nine," Lilith snapped. "Same page you've been ‘reading’ for the past two weeks."

Lilith half-expected him to say something snarky about Lilith looking over his shoulder often enough to notice that he never turned any pages.

“I’m a slow reader.”

“The other day, you had your book upside down. For an hour!”

If Blake had been flustered, it only lasted a couple of seconds before his face corrected itself.

“It’s page sixty-nine,” he shrugged. “It’s the same both ways.”

“Oh, shut... up,” Lilith murmured, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Blake was, infuriatingly, right.

Blake folded his arms.

“So, what are you actually thinking about all day?" Lilith planted their hands on their hips and tilted their head so aggressively that their whole body leaned to the side. "While you're staring a page, pretending to read? What’s going on in that head of yours?"

Blake shrugged. "I don't know. Chickens with bras on? Did you want something from me, Lilypad?"

Lilith almost physically retched in repulsion. Giving out nicknames was one of their proudest talents, and they sincerely hoped this wasn’t a case of their own medicine tasting terrible. “Okay, hate that. Knock that off this instant.”

Blake shrugged as if he couldn’t give a shit whether or not this conversation progressed. Or whether or not Lilith lived or died.

“What’d you want?” he repeated.

“I wanted to ask you what you came back here for!” Lilith gestured all around them, at the books and the leather and the gentle streams of sunlight that fanned out across the floorboards. It all seemed aggressively at odds with Blake’s icy presence. “Hmm? You’re not here to improve your skills. You’re not here to make friends. So what the fuck are you here for, Blake?"

Blake’s lips curled just a little. He leaned back into the armchair and propped a couple of fingers under his chin. It made Lilith bristle whenever they were reminded of the serene, commanding presence that Blake was capable of exuding; like his body was a golden statue, and he was surrounded by plastic imitations.

“Well?” Lilith asked, emphasising that their questions were not rhetorical.

They were pissed off enough that they genuinely wanted answers out of this guy. They’d have been lying if they denied being vaguely curious, too. Something had held Blake’s attention elsewhere for two solid years, and suddenly he was back at Madame A’s retreat, acting as though he’d never given a shit about anything or anyone in his life.

“What is it then? Are you here purely to make the rest of us miserable?”

"You flatter yourself, Lilypad."

"Okay, this is your last warning. Call me that again and I'll -"

Blake snorted. "This'll be good."

Lilith ground their teeth. Even if they could think of a suitable threat, Blake was going to dismiss them anyway. It was thankless work, arguing with this guy. It was better to scrunch your annoyance up into a little ball and store it somewhere within yourself.

"Blake.” Lilith lined up the tips of their fingers on each hand and pressed them together. “You've got Rex picking up the slack for you on the pairs project. You’re mean to Astrophel...”

“When have I ever been -?”

Lilith parted their hands, demanding to be allowed to finish. “You haven't cooked for us on any of your designated nights. You don't even hang out with us after lessons.”

"Fuck’s sake, is this what you're upset about?” The ghost of a smirk crept over Blake’s face. “That I won't come to your tedious Doctor Who marathons?"

"If you would just give Capaldi a chance - hmph." Lilith stroked their hands through the air to calm themself. "Blake.”

“Lil....”

Orion, give me strength.

“...lith,” Blake finished, his face the picture of forced innocence. The picture of a smug shithead.

Lilith exhaled. “Forget about hanging out with us. Forget about the dinners. No one missed your ‘plain pasta with salt’ anyway.”

“Harsh.”

“But stop. Taking. Advantage. Of. Rex,” Lilith said. “The only reason Madame A brought back the pairs projects is because there’s an even number of us this year. Thanks to you. Which means the extra work you’re dumping on Rex is double your fault.”

“You don’t give Rex enough credit.” Blake’s tone was disarmingly sharp. Accusatory, even. “If she had a real problem with me, she’d tell me herself. In fact, didn’t it occur to you that maybe she prefers not having to work with me? Do you think I didn’t see those looks all three of you gave each other when Madame A set the pairs?”

Guilt spilled over from the pot of emotions bubbling in Lilith’s gut. Had Blake really just made a series of good, morally impressive points?

“So. How about you shut up, leave me be, and stop trying to be everybody’s hero?” Blake looked nauseated, as though the word ‘hero’ had tasted like petrol on his tongue.

The guilt was abruptly washed away in a tide of anger. The least useful of the emotions, and the very last one you should bring into a conversation with Blake Forte.

Lilith turned away. For a few seconds, they were fully intent on just walking out of the library and leaving Blake’s words hanging, untouched, in the air. But before they could get through the door, they turned back around.

“Fuck you.” They wished their tone hadn’t been so gentle and matter-of-fact. They might as well have just told Blake that the weather was nice today.

But they were still kind of relieved that they’d said it.

Blake had just leaned down to pick his book up from the floor. “Hey, Forrester, remind me - what page was I on, again?”

#MARS Blake #MARS Lilith #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #OC stuff #whump writing #sickfic writing #OC writing #witch OCs #witch OC #Swallow the World #StW Nancy

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angstyaches · 2 years

Note

13 14 and 17 from the "are you okay" list with the new ocs? (if you're ready to write about them)

Okay, so this is NOT an official introduction to my new OCs. Some details might still change, and I still plan on writing in such a way that you guys can properly meet each one of them.

Also, as you'll soon see, I settled on a name for the blonde nonbinary OC. I'll post some more detail about that decision later.

Thank you for the request, V! Prompt Meme (by @emphasis-on-the-comfort ) is here.

___

13. *shrugs* "I don't know. I feel funny.

17. *shivers* "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'm running a fever."

14. *covers mouth and shakes head before making a mad dash for the bathroom*

CW: emeto with unspecified (i.e. secret hehe) supernatural element.

___

“We could do something with portals, maybe.” Rex spoke aloud as she was jotting down her ideas, though it was more of a formality now than a genuine attempt to convey her thoughts to her project partner. She wasn’t even making an effort to make her handwriting legible anymore; as long as she could read it later herself, that was all that mattered. “Maybe the physical accuracy of his ability could tame the haphazardness of mine…”

“Haphazardousness.”

Rex looked up. Blake was resting his chin in his palms, and his eyes were shut. She couldn’t have been blamed for not even realising that he’d been listening to her muttering to herself.

“What?” she scoffed when her brain focused on what he'd actually said. “No, it’s not.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Blake, it’s haphazardness.” Rex resisted the urge to take advantage of his attention, to call him out on failing to contribute anything other than nonsense. “What’s the matter with you?”

Blake gave a slow shrug. “I don’t know. I feel funny.”

“Funny? Funny how?”

He shook his head and didn’t reply to her beyond that. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, if she was being honest. If she didn’t learn to manage her expectations, this summer – the time she spent on the pairs project, at least – would be very unpleasant and frustrating. Part of her had resented Astrophel and Lilith for pairing off this year, but she couldn’t deny that their project idea was a fascinating one that only the two of them could properly execute. She was happy and excited for them.

Even if it meant that she was stuck with a brick wall as a partner.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing one brown iris and one pale blue. He looked at her briefly before lowering his head, and letting out what Rex thought at first was a low groan. Only when she saw him flinch and smack his lips did she realise he’d just belched.

“God,” she whined in mild disgust.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m gonna go lie down for a bit, before the lecture.” Blake stifled a yawn as he slid from his stool, arching his spine and pushing his shoulders back. Rex could only watch in shock; surely he wasn’t serious? He wasn’t about to abandon her to continue planning this project by herself –?

“You’re good; you’ve got this, haven’t you?” he asked, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of her notes. "You've got this."

Rex’s jaw dropped. Nope. He was absolutely about to abandon her.

He scratched lightly at his belly before walking around the end of the bench and heading for the door.

__ Later that same day__

Astrophel tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. Blake cringed at the sparkle in the boy’s eyes, the glint of concern that he knew he didn’t deserve. He looked away, glancing back just in time to see Astrophel lift a hand; his forefinger and thumb were linked together to form an O, while the rest of his fingers splayed out in the shape of a K.

“I don’t fucking know if I’m okay,” Blake hissed, trying and failing to suppress a shiver. As he shuddered in his seat, Astrophel jumped slightly in surprise. “Alright, I don’t – I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’m running a fever.”

Astrophel began to shift from his own seat, hands working through the signs for a series of letters that made Blake’s heart sink into his stomach.

“No, no, no, don’t get Lilith,” he snapped, making a grab for Astrophel’s wrist and yanking it towards the desk.

“Ow,” Astrophel mouthed. He threw what Blake assumed was supposed to be an angry, intimidating look, but really, he just looked hurt. Blake knew it was hurt, because he felt guilt grow heavier in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at it.

He clicked his tongue and let go of Astrophel’s wrist. “Sorry.”

__ And even later that same day__

“And, you know, at a certain point, I feel like I have to say something.”

Oh, fuck. Blake gulped against the swell of pain and nausea in his belly, cringing at the uneasy squelching sound his throat made. His mind was so hazy with panic and guilt that Lilith didn't even seem real...

“You haven’t been doing your share of the work for Rex, and Astrophel says you were rude to him earlier, too.” Lilith folded their arms. “Life would be a lot easier for everybody if you –”

Shattered into a million pieces and never got put back together?

“– made more of an effort to get along with people.”

Blake swallowed again. There was a harsh twist in his chest and belly; he’d known that Lilith wasn’t going to say something horrible, yet it felt as though he’d just accused them of doing so. He watched their eyes, wondering if there was some way they’d read his mind and gotten even more pissed off at him.

“Yeah.”

Lilith raised their eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Blake’s stomach flipped over with an audible groan and a rush of air. A wet belch crawled up the back of his throat like a thing with legs and wings. “Hu-hundred percent.”

“I’m – I am?” Lilith’s eyes travelled up and down the length of Blake’s body, as though they were searching for something unusual in his silhouette. “The great Blake Forte admitting that I’m right? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

A hand miraculously slapped itself over Blake’s lips before a disgusting burst of air escaped. His eyes widened and he winced, but not because he’d just belched in front of Lilith.

He winced because the nausea in his stomach had grown significantly lighter, like the tickle of a paintbrush. And the feeling in his throat wasn’t burning like acid, but… fluttering.

Lilith’s arms came down from their defensive folded position in front of their chest. “Blake?”

He shook his head, though whether it was in response to their question of whether he was feeling okay, or just a last-ditch attempt to deny what was about to happen, he couldn’t be sure. The nearest bathroom was at the other side of the building, and mathematically – based on the whirring movement of his stomach – he wasn’t going to make it there in time unless he left now.

Unless he’d already left.

Hell, he could have been born in that specific bathroom, and he might still be late for what was about to happen.

He sensed Lilith jump at his abrupt departure. He heard his stool clatter to the floor in his wake. And he felt tears sting his eyeballs as he ran, praying he’d at least make it out of anyone’s line of sight before it happened.

#Oc stuff #drabbles #sickfic drabbles #emeto drabbles #emeto #emetophilia #supernatural emeto #witch OCs #MARS Blake #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking

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