#honestly this wasn't as much of a sickfic as I wanted it to be

[whumpshaped]

Beck being sick with the flu and Helle not caring?

-- @oliversrarebooks

this is actually something i wanted to write thank u for reminding me. well i mean just beck being sick in general, but yea we'll go w the flu, thats a bitch of an illness

coming back to add this after finishing: well this wasnt what i was going for, but apparently we unlocked some more tragic backstory

masterlist

tw some magic mind scrambling, but honestly?? not much- it's a sickfic, so fever dreams and the like... emotional whump, maybe- vampire carewhumper

Beck had never felt so sick in his entire life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but this was definitely among the top five grossest illnesses he had ever come down with. His entire body was like a furnace, and yet he was shivering uncontrollably, even under two thick blankets.

He desperately wished there was someone to take care of him. He could barely keep his eyes open all day, could barely walk with the dizziness, the fatigue, and the muscle pain, and he couldn't even refill his water bottle periodically, let alone make himself some soup. He mostly just slept, slipping in and out of consciousness.

He'd considered calling his mother, briefly. She had always been so kind. Doting. She would've made him toast with honey and butter and cut it up into the smallest pieces for him to eat. He missed her a lot, he realised. But she couldn't come to his apartment after he'd made it so unsafe. He would just have to tough it out like an adult.

He knew there was no way Helle would just skip a visit. Skip dinner. They would barge in, rip the blankets away from him, and feed. He would just have to put up with it, as always, and maybe... maybe then, he could ask them to refill his water bottle. Would they actually do that? Or would they laugh and leave him to figure it out on his own? His eyes fluttered closed again, and he drifted into another two-hour nap.

"Oh, that is a sad sight. Oh dear..." Beck forced himself to look up, his unfocused eyes settling on the blurry outline of the vampire. He didn't have his glasses, and he was too tired to get them. "What do we have here?"

"'m sick," he croaked out, immediately made aware of his dehydration by how dry his throat and mouth were. "S-sorry."

Helle walked inside, and Beck had to close his eyes again. He was so exhausted. He'd done nothing but slept all day, and he could barely tolerate being awake for a minute. "I can see that," they said quietly. "Do you... have everything you need?"

"Water... I'm so thirsty, please..."

"Have you not drunk all day?" It almost sounded accusatory, in a way. Were they scolding him? He could hear Helle pick up his water bottle from the nightstand and leave the room, and he had never felt more grateful to them. He would've gone the whole night without drinking if they hadn't come, probably.

He tried to sit up against the headboard, but it proved more difficult than he anticipated. Especially with the two blankets; they were heavy, but Beck couldn't imagine being without them for even a second.

Helle came back with a full bottle of fresh water, sitting down on the edge of his bed without a word and gently helping him drink. They placed it on the nightstand afterwards, watching as Beck slid back down into a more horizontal position.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. Helle didn't even respond.

"Have you eaten?" He shook his head, and the vampire scoffed. "Alright." They stood up and left again, closing the bedroom door behind themself. Beck could pick out the faint sounds of a phonecall, but he had no idea what it was about. He fell asleep before Helle came back into the room.

For the next hour, he didn't even know what was or wasn't a dream. He felt something cold on his forehead, then also on his hand. He heard some gentle murmurs and whispers, too quiet to make out the words. He saw his mother for a split second, and he reached out towards her. The vampire, he wanted to say. Get out of here, mom. There's a vampire here. It's not safe. The image disappeared before he could've reached her.

"Beck," someone said softly, and he opened his eyes. "Come on, dear. Sit up."

Helle was holding a tray, but he couldn't really tell what was on it from where he lay. With great effort, he pushed himself up against the headboard again, letting the vampire please the plastic tray in his lap. There was a bowl of still steaming soup sitting on top, along with a cup of tea and some medicine.

"Where did you get the soup..?" he asked slowly, looking up at them in awe. Confused, definitely, but in awe.

"I ordered some. I took money out of your wallet." Well, that was a bit less considerate. Helle grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and handed them to him, then sat on his bed again. "Contrary to what you may be inclined to believe, I do not wish for my bloodbag's untimely death. So eat."

"It's just the flu," he mumbled, and he could've sworn he saw a flash of... something, in Helle's eyes. Anger? "I'm gonna be okay. But, but thank you. Really. I'm... I'm incredibly grateful for this."

They rolled their eyes and looked away from him, letting him eat his dinner in peace. They seemed restless, Beck noted while he sipped on his tea. There was a generous amount of honey in it, and for a moment, he wondered how Helle used to drink their tea back when they were still alive.

"Is... is something wrong?" he asked eventually, and Helle shook their head.

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

They took the tray and disappeared, and Beck found he was feeling a little less dead with all that food in his system. His fever was still making him disoriented and hazy, but at least he could make a trip to the bathroom without feeling like he was going to pass out.

At some point during the night, he could feel Helle crawl into bed with him, pulling him flush against their refreshingly cold body. Half-asleep as he was, it didn't even freak him out a lot. It just felt good.

"You are way too warm," they murmured.

"'m sick," he responded, as though Helle didn't already know. Spurred on by a sudden burst of feverish courage, he took their hand and placed it on his face, enjoying the cool.

"You are so sick," they said insistently. "This can kill."

"The flu won't kill me."

"You have no way of knowing."

Beck frowned a little, unsettled by this sudden interest in his well-being. "Why are you so worried?" he asked quietly, hoping it didn't come off as too rude. He didn't mind the care. He wished Helle would care so much about him on the regular.

They didn't respond for a while. Beck was starting to think they never would, given they had already ignored the question once.

"I was going to die from it," they whispered, and Beck got the sense they might be holding back tears. It was a surreal image.

They didn't say anything else, but Beck could hear how their breathing changed. Helle frequently stopped breathing altogether, under normal circumstances, sometimes specifically to freak him out — now it felt like they couldn't stop drawing shuddering breaths one after the other, only stopping for brief moments as they... choked back sobs?

"Helle..?"

"They told me I was going to die," they went on. "We had no money to spare for medicine or- or doctors. Except one, of course. The mysterious faith healer Lady Marie Brandt, who offered her services to those in need; free of charge."

It wasn't too difficult to piece together what had happened. It was... frankly, terrifying. He was sure his own mother would've let in anybody who promised to heal him, had he been in such a dire situation. And to have that doctor turn out to be a vampire– he couldn't even imagine.

"Go to sleep, Beck."

He was knocked out cold by a sudden wave of magic, plunging him into a dreamless sleep for hours.

He woke up the next day feeling a lot better, and he let out a contented hum as he stretched out. As hellish as the previous day had been, he felt a little comforted by the idea that Helle cared. Maybe it would be worth it, in the end, if only for this piece of knowledge.

As he was making his morning cup of tea in the kitchen, parts of his dreams began popping into his head. Most of it was utter nonsense, and then... there was a conversation with Helle. Something about being sick.

He sat down at the table, warming his hands on the side of the cup and trying to focus on the dream. Of course, the more he chased it, the more blurry and incoherent it got, as was often the case with dreams. Still, he wished he could've remembered... Fever dreams were always a lot of fun to type into online dream interpreter sites.

Oh well. Maybe it would come to him later.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire caretaker #?? #carewhumper #sickfic #emotional whump

[rykno-j]

Stay? (B/SD)

Summary: basically c/huuya gets sick and d/azai takes care of him, very cliche

Ship: s/kk

Notes: my first b/sd fic. honestly i never intended to write one, but here we are. This fic was drafted Sept 21 2023 and wow that's been awhile huh.

They might be a little ooc here since i'm trying my hand at their characterisation for the first time. Apologies in advance for any mistakes!

also i figured ild add this in here but this fic is sickfic>snzfic so there isnt much of that kinda stuff here

Word count: 4.5k

------------------------------------------------

"Chuuya, rest."

The red markings on Chuuya's arm slowly disappeared as he fell to the floor in a soft grunt. Letting go of his arm down in an action of indifference, Dazai stepped over his sprawled out body.

"Took you long enough, honestly. It was almost like you were taking your own sweet time, don't want me to touch you that badly?"

When he was met with no response, Dazai sighed dramatically.

"Chibi? Oi, are you dead? You're not allowed to go before me, you know that. Oi!"

He turns back, this time with an eyebrow raised at the unmoving Chuuya-lump on the floor. Seriously? He would've expected the slug to reply with a "I'll kill you first" or a punch of sorts.

Chuuya was never quite as energetic after using Corruption, but this silence was new.

And so Dazai does the next most logical thing, which was to kick him with the edge of his shoe, once, twice, thrice- Alright, something was wrong.

Doing a quick check of his surroundings for any passersby (god forbid anyone from the Port Mafia or the ADA see what he was about to do next), Dazai knelt down next to Chuuya's body, flipping him onto his back.

"Oi Chibi!"

When he was met with no response, Dazai seriously considered leaving Chuuya in the middle of what used to be the battlefield. Surely someone would find him eventually, right?

It was how it always was, how it always has been.

Though.. there was no one in their vicinity at the moment, and it won't hurt to check Chuuya's vitals, to make sure the idiot didn't actually die on him.

Two fingers were swiftly placed under Chuuya's chin, and- Fever. Dazai was fairly sure that he felt fever under his fingers.

There was a steady heartbeat too, so that was good at least.

But a fever? Surely he was imagining it. Yes, Chuuya tended to run a little hot, both in his temperature and in his temper (although most of the time it was directed at Dazai himself), but there was no mistaking the heat that he was radiating.

This time, the pair of bandaged hands reached for Chuuya's shoulders, giving him a couple shakes, which proved successful as he heard the other below him let out a soft groan.

"..D'zai?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Immediately knowing what Dazai was referring to, Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows into a frown. "Idiot, it's none of your concern. Just take me back home."

Dazai opened his mouth to complain, but stopped when he saw Chuuya's eyes slide back shut. Seriously? Seriously. It was not the first time Chuuya had made a similar request, and it would also not be the first time if Dazai just walked off into the distance, leaving him there alone.

Despite that, Dazai always made sure that Chuuya was okay before he abandoned the other. Did this count as 'okay'?

And so,

"You owe me one.." Dazai caved, reaching out to lift Chuuya onto his back. He considered for a second just grabbing Chuuya by his ankles, dragging him home that way. Admittedly, Dazai did almost do that, if not for the time limit they had before someone would eventually arrive at the scene.

So draped over his back it was. Chuuya's apartment wasn't far, he could make it.

Gathering the fallen coat and hat (regrettably, Dazai did indeed resign and picked it up), he disappeared behind the trees.

====================================

The journey back was eerily silent. Given the relationship between the two, it was a surprise. No bickering, no fighting, just the steady but heavy sound of footsteps coming from Dazai.

He could hear, could feel Chuuya breathing behind him, but worry still found its way into his head. Not that that was important or anything.

Dazai whined. "You're really heavy you know.."

(Talk to me, say something snarky back.)

Dazai attempted a weak insult. "Never been this high off the floor before huh? It's a whole new view from way up here."

(Open your eyes, please.)

He felt stupid talking to himself.

==================================

Chuuya's front door. He hasn't been here in a long while, and it definitely was not the first time he came uninvited. But this didn't count, did it? Chuuya had asked him to bring him home.

Key. Just focus on getting the door open.

Lowering himself to the ground, Dazai propped Chuuya's body up against the door. Now, where would Chibi put his key..

When both coat pockets came up empty, Dazai eyed Chuuya's unconscious body. Should he try searching for the keys on him?

Then, he remembered a moment they shared together, one where they had headed to Chuuya's place after a mission years ago, when Dazai was still in the Port Mafia.

They had gotten thrown around quite a bit that day, and as fun as it was, Chuuya's key seemed to have been shaken right out of his pocket. Exhausted, they had fallen asleep right by the steps leading up to the door, seemingly forgetting that Chuuya could have blasted through the window if he really wanted to.

Dazai dropped the coat on Chuuya's lap, turning to the pots of plants outside the house. Seriously? He was surprised the plants were even still alive.

As obvious at that spot would have been, Dazai found the key he was looking for under a pot of cacti. He unlocked the door, hauling Chuuya's body in with him.

The living room was a familiar sight. The couch was in the same position, and so was the dining table. It was as if all those years had never passed.

Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the floor.

So what now? Should he leave? Chuuya hadn't asked him to do anything else, not that he would have complied anyway.

..He would probably be much more comfortable lying on the couch. Yeah, he could do that.

Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the couch.

So what now? Why wasn't he moving to leave? Chuuya probably didn't want to open his eyes only for Dazai to be the first thing he sees.

..That thought alone almost made him sit down and wait for Chuuya to wake up.

However, a small whine dragged Dazai out of his scheming. When he looked down, there was a pained expression on Chuuya's face. Even in the dimmed lights, Dazai could partially make out the feverish flush on the other's cheeks.

..He could wet a towel for Chuuya. Yeah, he could do that.

And so Dazai stands up, making his way to bathroom. Just being in the room brought back a few memories. All the times that he would sit, propped up against the sink as they tended to each other's wounds after a mission.

Dazai pulls open one of the cupboards below the sink in search for a towel, and that's when he freezes.

All the way to the back of the compartment, there was a small stack of bandages, the same ones that Dazai liked to use. But why? Chuuya rarely got injured, and if he did, like heck he was using those bandages. Knowing him, Chuuya would probably just walk it off.

Maybe he just didn't want to throw away the leftovers. Yeah, that was it.

He found a towel after that. Wetting and wringing it, Dazai stepped back into the living room. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Chuuya's open bedroom door.

A peek inside would never hurt, right?

Making a slight detour, Dazai popped his head into the doorway. Surprisingly (or maybe not), everything looked pretty much the same. The bed was still haphazardly made in a sort of neat, Chuuya way.

A stray hat sat in the center of his desk. Dazai couldn't contain his eye roll.

He approached the table, his eye catching onto a dull shine of metal. It was a tablet tray of pills. He flipped it over. Paracetamol. And it was half empty.

So the fever wasn't a recent thing.

===================================

He hoped the wet towel would help.

Chuuya never fell sick often, and when he did, he was rather augmentative and closed off. To Dazai, that was Chuuya just being Chuuya, so he never treated the other differently in those moments, not that they happened often enough for him to act any other way.

So this was new. It wasn't an unpleasant type of new, just a little awkward. It was never quiet when Chuuya was around, unless they were sleeping, and Dazai was wide awake.

Maybe he should busy himself with cooking something. Cook. For Chuuya.

..What where they? Married? Dazai felt his tongue stick out at the thought. But still, he got up and headed for the kitchen.

Maybe he should try poisoning Chuuya's portion. That would be fun to watch. Unfortunately, he didn't have any vials on him at the moment.

Even better, he could pretend that he did something to the food.

That thought alone gave Dazai the motivation to look through the fridge. In the main compartment, all he found was alcohol. The second eye roll of the day ghosted his face. Chuuya was a lightweight after all.

Moving to the vegetables drawer, he was pleasantly surprised to see it filled. He never took Chuuya as someone who knew how to cook. Dazai himself normally ate at the cafe downstairs with the rest of the agency.

Though.. on the off-chance that someone would cook for the whole office, those meals always felt a little more homey.

Picking a variety of vegetables, Dazai turned towards the kitchen, sliding the door shut behind him.

========================================

It was at that moment that Chuuya decided to wake up. He knew he was at home, on his couch? What happened?

Fuck. His head hurt. His limbs hurt. There was something pressing his head down. Lifting a heavy arm, Chuuya reached for the item on his forehead.

A damp cloth?

That idiot Dazai probably put it there. Sleeping gas? It made sense, since he was knocked out for so long..

Or at least it felt long; with how sore his neck was feeling from lying flat on his back. Couldn't the bandaged disaster at least be considerate enough to put a pillow under his head?

..Come to think of it, Dazai did carry him home, which was a far cry from what he normally did to begin with. Whatever, he'd let it slide.

"..snff-"

"..hH'!! hAH'gGnshH-w!! G'nNEsHH!!"

So that's what he would have to deal with for a few days, huh. He had really thought it had been nothing more than a slight fever.

Maybe using Corruption had made it worse.

"..hiH'!! hH- hhH'!! h'ERrshH!"

When he sniffled into the back of his palm, Chuuya found that he could hardly get any air through. This sucked.

A shower might help.

=====================================

In the closed kitchen, Dazai barely heard Chuuya's movements as he reached for a knife. Staring at it, he pondered for a moment if he should just-

No. Chuuya would kill him if the white counter was stained with his blood. It would give the shorty a good scare, but his fun could wait.

While it wasn't his first time chopping vegetables, it certainly had been awhile. Still, the carrrots, potatoes and corn were all sliced up in minutes. He didn't brag about his dexterous fingers for nothing.

And if the knife came too close to his fingers too many times, no it didn't.

Throwing all the ingredients into the simmering pot, Dazai poured in some chicken stock. He didn't know how much was the recommended amount, so half the carton would have to do.

Besides, there was no way he'd even look at the instructions behind. He was already cooking for the chibi, he didn't want to have to read for him too.

Dazai stared at the stove.

..What now?

---

The moment Chuuya stripped off his clothes, he had to grab the edge of the sink as he was hit by a dizzy spell. Fair, he did get up from the couch rather abruptly. He hadn't eaten since the morning either.

He was shivering, despite the buckets of sweat he produced in the recent battle.

Chuuya hated falling sick, hated the weakness and vulnerability that came with it. He was supposed to be the one who people depended on. How could he protect anyone when he could barely even stand straight?

Without his strength there was little use for him.

"..hH'!! H'gKsHHew! heH'DzzchH!!"

And there was that too.. but at least this part of his forming cold proved that he was human. The inability of controlling his sneezes.

In any case, he should get into the shower quickly before his thoughts got the better of him.

Scalding hot water.

==================================

Surely the pot should not be boiling that heavily. Dazai stared at it, wondering how the surface would feel under his fingers should he touch it. The fleeting thought brought a smile to his face.

A rather rough bunch of bubbles almost caused the lid to fly off entirely. He should probably turn the fire down.

A gentle, warm aroma slowly filled the kitchen. Dazai estimated that it would be ready in a couple tens of minutes.

Perfect, he could use that time to-

The kitchen door slides open.

..To check on-

"Chuuya?"

The couch was empty. Did someone break into the house to steal him? Dazai didn't remember locking the door. Chuuya was really compact and pocket-sized too, but who would want to kidnap that feisty thing?

So of course, he deduced that Chuuya probably moved himself somewhere else.

"Chibi?"

Dazai stepped into the hallway, his gaze casting down upon the trail of water leading from the bathroom to is bedroom.

Seriously, did Chuuya not know that towels exist? Someone could slip and fall and die here! Someone like Dazai himself!

Playing with the possibility of such a humorous death, Dazai followed the trail to the room, poking his head into the doorway for the second time that day.

With the ends of his feet barely touching the edge of the bed, Chuuya laid in the center, neck tilted back on the pillow, snoring softly.

It was a familiar sight, Dazai noticed himself staring. The bed was once big enough for the two of them.

Not now, of course, Dazai muses. Even if Chuuya hadn't grown an inch, he sure did. There was no way they'd fit on the mattress together now.

..Not that he wanted to or anything. No, definitely not.

Chuuya's hair was still damp, and there was a strained expression on his sleeping face. Moving by himself, Dazai reached for the neatly folded blanket by the foot of the bed.

=====================================

1hr later:

Chuuya woke with the edge of his blanket pressed under his nose. He didn't remember pulling it up. After he took a shower, his body was too exhausted to do anything but collapse facedown into the pillows

Or.. maybe he had done that. Chuuya lived alone, there was no way someone else had done it instead.

"..hIH'NgtxchhH!! haH'gtcHH-w!" That being said, it was still way too cold even with the blanket covering him.

He rubbed the back of his fist against his nose roughly before tossing around in bed, annoyed.

Everything felt too stuffy, too hot. He was hungry too. Maybe some takeout would be good for today.

Chuuya stretched out a tired hand, groping around for his phone. Finding nothing, he sighed, faintly remembering that his coat was still outside on the floor somewhere.

"..hih'hA-Ngxt!!"

Guess he won't be getting any food today, then. Chuuya prided himself as a strong, capable man, but when it came down to times like these, he was willing to be weak.

As long as he was alone.

=======================================

Dazai looks up towards the bedroom, eyes flickering between the television screen and the hallway.

Despite himself, he was still at Chuuya's apartment, nevermind that an entire hour has passed.

Instead of wandering around, Dazai chooses to set up the gaming station below the television. He and Chuuya used to go on at it for hours against each other.

"Take this!"

"Not so fast, Chuuya. You think you can beat me that easily??"

There was a layer of dust sitting on top of console, showing obvious signs of disuse. His old controller was laid against it next to Chuuya's, the plastic worn down and peeling.

Lost in his daydream, Dazai barely manages to catch the smell of ready-soup coming from the kitchen. Now to get a couple bowls.

Transferring the soup into them should have been an easy task, if Dazai had remembered that heat existed. Well, excuse him for trying to pick up the pot with his bare hands and pouring it into the bowl, it's not like he cooked on a regular basis, or knew that there was a special spoon for such occasions known as the ladle.

Whatever the case, it took all but a few minutes to find a tray, put the bowls on it, and walk out of the kitchen.

==================================

Maybe he should have sucked it up and went to get his phone, Chuuya thinks and he stares at the ceiling. His stomach was screaming at him to fill it up with something, anything.

He stares at the stain next to the lightbulb and scowls. Years ago, the bulb and blown a fuse and needed repairing. But like hell Chuuya was going to put the stepladder on his bed, even if he was too short to reach it otherwise.

Thankfully, Dazai had shown up like a Saint at the time and fixed it for him, not without leaving his mark, of course. Like a damn animal he marked the ceiling with a dusty handprint that Chuuya could never clean off.

His fever must be off the charts if its enough to make him recall anything that had to do with his ex-partner. If Chuuya had had the strength at that moment, he would've slapped himself silly. That being said, he could probably wrap a damp cloth around the end of a long pole and bring it up to the stain to-

"ChUuYA!!"

"oH FUCK!"

Jumping out of his skin high enough that maybe he didn't need that pole after all, Chuuya sits up in his bed. His pillow, the blanket, the chair, his hat, everything glowed red and was ready to be used as a weapon.

"DAZAI, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Aw Chuuyaa~ That's the kind of greeting I get even when I'm trying to do something nice? You're lucky I'm touching this tray, or it might've went up with all the other things and split all my hard work!!"

"Never mind the fucking tray! What are you doing here?"

Dazai opens his mouth, a tone of mockery already ready at the tip of his tongue, yet nothing came out. Chuuya was right, what was he doing here? How would he explain why he was carrying soup to Chuuya in bed without the other thinking he had lost his mind?

Come to think of it, he didn't even know himself why he was doing this.

Chuuya stares at the Dazai in his room. Seriously, what was he thinking? Coming over uninvited like that, especially knowing the state he was in right now. There was no way this was a planned move to take him out at his weakest. As shitty as Dazai was, Chuuya knew at the back of his mind that the other would never harm him intentionally without the confidence that he won't die from it.

So that only left one explanation, one that Chuuya refused to even entertain - that Dazai was actually trying to take care of him. He almost laughs at the thought.

And he might've, if this was another day in which he wasn't hazed in fever. Plus the silence was getting awkward, so Chuuya forced himself to say something.

"..I'm not interested in your answer anyway. So are you coming in or not? You're being an eyesore just standing in the middle of my room."

"A tall eyesore?" Dazai chirped back, his behavior instantly returning to normal once he was in his element, (that being in a state in which he endlessly makes fun of Chuuya).

"Yeah yeah, a tall eyesore that he trying to poison me. Is this the Agency's masterplan after all? Poison?"

"Me?!" Dazai dramatically puts his hand on his forehead. "Poisoning you?? Before I use the poison on myself to end my own miserable life? Oh ChuUya, you should know me better than that!"

"Whatever. Just give it to me." Chuuya rolls his eyes, snatching a bowl over and eyeing it suspiciously. "You went through all the trouble of buying takeout?"

"Of course not! Why would I ever do so much for a slug like you?"

"So then you cooked for me." It was phrased more like a statement than a question, and for the second time that night, Dazai didn't know what to say.

"The uh- the knife. It looked tempting."

"Uh-huh. Bet it sure was difficult to keep all 10 of your fingers intact."

"You know me so well!"

"..Right." With the conversation not going any further, Chuuya picks up the spoon, stirring the liquid gently. It smelt good, and the steam coming from the bowl really helped to loosen up the congestion in his nose.

Which was good, but also bad timing, as Chuuya was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to sneeze. Hitching ever so slightly, he turns to face the wall, using his skill to control the gravity of the mucus such that it wouldn't irritate his nose even more as it threatened to drip out.

The last thing he wanted was to give Dazai something else to make fun of him for.

It was silent for a moment as Chuuya lifts the spoon to his lips.

"..."

"What?"

"..."

"I swear I did not poison the soup."

"No- it's not that. The soup.. it tastes.. good."

Dazai stares at Chuuya as if he'd grown an extra head. "..Chibi's lying!"

"I'm not, you idiot. Sigh, why do I even try?"

Before Chuuya could even shake his head in exasperation, a flash of brown jumps his soup.

"What are you doi-!?"

Dazai grabs onto Chuuya's arm, somehow managing to miraculously not spill a drop as he grabs onto the spoon to try a sip.

This is bad. Bells rang in Chuuya's head as he felt his skill get nullified by Dazai's.

"M-hH!!" Move! He wanted to scream, would have, if the tickle in his nose wasn't this extreme.

Well, the suicide maniac asked for it anyway.

"Hh'! HNNgxt! ..hA'DzzchH!!" Chuuya gasps, pressing a wrist tightly against his nose. "hIH' gZZtchH!!"

"Chuuya is so rough with himself!"

"Don't talk like you're not the one who c'hh!-caused this!"

"Really," Dazai started, brushing a bit of his arm that had been in the crossfire of the spray upon his pants. "If anything Chibi's the one who caused this onto himself."

"Hah? The fuck did you say?"

"Now now-" Dazai places his index finger directly between Chuuya's furrowed eyebrows. "I'm not the one who decided to use corruption through a fever and then pass out in front of everyone."

Chuuya clenches his teeth, swatting the other's arm away. "Don't talk like you don't make shitty decisions all the time, suicide-obsessed mackerel."

"Slug."

"Why do you even care anyway?!" the porcelain bowl cracks under his grip. "You never had before so don't act like you do now."

Dazai opened his mouth to answer with a witty remark, but nothing came out. This outburst was different from the rest that Chuuya normally gave him. Insults, he could handle, but this? What was he supposed to say to that?

'Yeah I don't care about you?' 'No I do care about you?' One was a lie and one made him sound like a bottom.

Chuuya just stared at the bowl in his hand, watching as the soup drip, drip, dripped down his forearm. He knows what he said wasn't true, the fact that Dazai stayed was evidence enough.

Fucking fever, always making him say the wrong sh-

"I'm sorry."

The fuck? Chuuya snaps his head upwards, looking at Dazai from between the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He scanned the other's expression, expecting something akin to a smirk. But there was none.

"I mean- Well! I'll leave Chibi to his tacky hats then." Dazai suddenly says, his voice lively yet strained. He reaches for the stray hat on the table, putting upon Chuuya's head and pulling the brim over his eyes.

Annoyed, Chuuya whips the damn thing off his head, prepared to shove it into Dazai's chest. But by the time he looks back at the other, all that could be seen was the tips of Dazai's coat-tails rounding out of his bedroom door.

"Hey wai-" Tears shot to Chuuya's eyes as he choked on air. With one leg on the floor and the other still nestled under the covers, he bent over coughing violently as his lungs struggled to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

His throat was burning. There was no way he could catch up to Dazai now.

-

After what seemed like forever, Chuuya's lungs finally decided to restart, allowing him to breathe in his first huge breath of air. Through blurry eyes, he barely managed to focus on the mess of beige in front of him.

"Chibi's so small he choked on air molecules?"

"Ah fuck you," Chuuya mumbled. He grabbed the glass of water Dazai held out for him, purposely avoiding eye-contact to prevent the other from noticing his shock and gratitude.

"You're welcome~ aand, you should probably put that down," referring to the bowl of soup that was barely holding itself together.

'Right." Chuuya placed it upon the tray. "Well," this was awkward. Just 2 minutes ago they were at each other's throats, and now they were.. staring at the ground in silence. "..I should, wash these. Plus you probably wrecked the kitchen, so I'll- yeah."

"Chuuya- are you sure you should-" Dazai started, then stopped.

Curse being partners for years, Chuuya knew what he meant even before he started. "It's just a cold, idiot. I'll be fine washing dishes. Stop cari- ahem. You look like shit, go shower or something."

When he got no reply, Chuuya continued. "There's bandages below the sink you can use, and- well. There's a set of clothes your size somewhere in my cupboard."

And this, snaps Dazai out of his silent trance. "So ChuuUya was planning a sleepover behind my back?"

"It was for emergencies, dammit! If you ever needed somewhere safe to stay, or something." Leaving it as that, Chuuya briskly walks out of the room, leaving Dazai to his own thoughts.

-

The bandages, Dazai later notices, were manufactured a mere 2 years ago, right when he had joined the Detective Agency, back when Chuuya had no way of knowing if he was alive or not.

But he still thought about me. Still bought them with a chance that I would use them someday.

"You even got my favourite brand, Chibi."

Staring at the "ON SALE!!" sticker on the back of the box, Dazai breaks into a soft smile.

Maybe, if Chuuya would allow him, he'd stay the night.

-end-

---------------

ugh that ending felt so rushed but honestly i feel like it fits them, since i think that initally, caretaking would be really awkward for them.

Notes: thank you so much for reading, and i hope its alright that i branch out of j/jk since, well, everyones fucking dead (/j) but moreso because i fell in love with characters from other fandoms too <3

#b/sd #d/azai #c/huuya #snz #i feel like i lost touch with their personalities towards the end #forgive me/ its been *awhile* since i touched anything b/sd related #i /really/ did start this fic late 2023 you see #was really struggling towards the end part with the dialogue #because the nature between these two.. well.. ugh/ #so much pretense #but i reeeally wanted to get this fic out asap bc i have another one (not b/sd) planned and it was also it was rotting in my drafts haha

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

AAAH Mountain Road is SO PRECIOUS??? oh my heart poor poor nari was going through it! I swear I could feel his frustration!! He wanted to fuss and mother hen but he just…he had no choice but to let his body do whatever it needed 🥺 also I swear he was this close to throwing up on Cyno in that moment omg. Migraines are the WORST and it says so much about him that he’s able to push through it, while still knowing his limits. Honestly I love that about his character both in how you write him and in canon, he is very good at knowing when to push himself and when to ask for help. BUT that doesn’t mean he always likes it when he has to ask for help. He will still have that anxiety or frustration, but he also knows that it won’t get better if he tries to ignore it (something Cyno needs to learn)

also I ADORE cyno and how protective he is!! His guilt over the energy drink tho 😭 also I love how like…safe he seems to make Tighnari feel?? And even when he’s sick (and I’ll get to that) he’s just like..no.. you have a MIGRAINE like he fully understands how bad those are for Nari and would do anything to make sure he’s resting properly. I truly don’t even think he would have minded had he ended up being sick alone cuz in his mind Nari comes first.

I love how low key Cyno is quick to pass out when he’s vomiting?? Or even not feeling well! Like he’s so sturdy normally and maybe it’s cuz he doesn’t vomit easily and when he does it’s such a violent act that he just runs out of air or his blood pressure goes wonky. Idk it’s neat that it’s come up a few times now!! But also very very concerning that he didn’t fight lying down. Granted I know that it’s his go too when unwell but still it really seemed like he was gonna faint for real. And Tighnari clocked that instantly. UHG. They are so in sync I love them

There is something so sweet about them constantly checking in on each other!! Honeslty both characters being sick at once sometimes makes me weirdly anxious? Idk why lol 😂 cuz I still read them anyways and almost always love them! And I LOVED this one!! Them lying in the floor together at the end, nari getting at least a fraction of relief…Cyno… well I’m sure he’ll be fine..eventually lmao. Tighnari i feel like needs to sleep a good 12 hours and Cyno just…idk he had a bad time so I have no idea what he needs 🤣

AHH I'M HAPPY YOU ENJOYED IT!!

Nari deserved all the hugs this fic, I think being stuck on the road is up there with some of the worst places to be stuck in when you're in that much pain. And yes!! He's so strong and determined, and I love that about him. He knows how far he can rationally push his limits and he will do it if that's what the situation calls for. Also yes, he was definitely very close to throwing up all over Cyno 😭

We love protective Cyno. Tighnari definitely feels so safe with him, and Cyno would do absolutely anything for him. I imagine it broke him a little inside that he wasn't up to fussing over and comforting Tighnari ahhh, as you said, he knows how bad they get and he knows just how much pain Nari must be in. He 100% would have settled for being left alone in the bathroom in favour of Tighnari getting some proper rest 😭

YES!! This is one of the examples where things just slowly develop by themselves and I love it, it's definitely become a thing that Cyno gets light-headed easily when he's sick. Adding on to that, I wonder if he has actually blacked out in the past? Because another detail that's come up repeatedly, I think ever since my first Cynari sickfic, is that Cyno has a tendency to just kind of. stand. Like he usually stays standing upright if he's going to throw up, and almost every time without fail, the first thing Tighnari does is gently tug him down until he's kneeling. He knows how dizzy Cyno gets when he throws up.

Also absolutely, I think Cyno was on the verge of fainting and barely held it together here. The stress of them both being sick, this being the second violent vomiting spell in a short time, his body was just ready to nope out of that completely if he didn't lie down.

Ahh I get that! If it helps, I will be sure to include it in the warnings when we're going to be dealing with both characters in a fic being sick!

BUT YES, I love the scene of them both just lying there,,, in my head I kind of imagine that they slept there on the floor together for a while. Like maybe an hour or later one of them would stir and find they're both curled up together on the floor. And the next day they'd spend all day in the comfort of the bed, huddled up together and sleeping off their symptoms. Tighnari definitely needs a good marathon sleep. Cyno,,, I think once he's managed to throw up most of what's making him sick, he also needs a good long rest and plenty of hydration 🥺

#earthquake author's note #earthquake rambles #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto #emeto fic #sick cyno #sick tighnari

[musashi]

very sorry if youre getting this twice my wifi lost connection the first time i hit send so im asking again in case didnt get through. its a relief to see you say writers block is just a state of mind issue! do you have any advice for people who are still stuck in it to stop being that way? what part of my thinking has to change to get better? and this has nothing to do with the topic but thank you for being one of the few mayomei sickfic writers in western fandom! finally some good fucking food

honestly its a hard thing to advise because i quite literally just brute force 90% of things in my life out of spite. but i think just internalizing it is a good first step?

like. writer's block is. how do i phrase this. it's just a term we have invented for feeling "stuck." which can be useful, except... it has now kind of taken on a life of its own, where people kind of talk about it as if it is... a condition? something that you can "come down with" so to speak. but in reality all it means is that you are stuck. something isn't working.

why are you stuck?

that's the thing to figure out. some people get stuck by many things. some people are only ever stuck via one thing. but when you chalk it up to "writer's block" what you are basically doing is giving yourself an excuse to not examine it further. you are saying to yourself, well, it's writer's block, hopefully it passes soon. and you are taking away the agency from yourself to help it pass, giving yourself over to the whim of it. you are relenting.

i am bad at relenting.

this goes hand in hand with the other thing that annoys me to hear people talk about--"inspiration." a lot of writers consider this to be an opposite of writer's block, so to speak. sometimes its inspiration, sometimes its motivation, but much like with writer's block, they consider it this kinda nebulous cloud that settles over them and oh! suddenly they can create!

this, again, takes away the writer's agency. they are simply at the behest of writer's block and its opposite, motivation. internalizing this mindset pretty much guarantees that your output will stagger. that terrifies me. the idea that i must go long swaths of time waiting to feel "inspired" or "motivated" sounds like hell. writing, creating, making something is what keeps me alive, and i think if i stopped i'd die.

so, once again i reiterate: what writer's block is, is a writer being stuck. the writer needs to unpack why they are stuck. instead of just saying 'oh lol its writer's block' and leaving it at that.

for me, what i thought was "writer's block" was actually perfectionism and a dissatisfaction with how the story looked in my head vs how it came across on paper. i felt the words i was putting on the page did not match the story i wanted to tell, and i would lock up and feel foggy and uninspired. but when i did that, i was angry, because it felt like giving up, and i fucking hate giving up. i hate failing even more than i hate being stumbling and imperfect.

more than that, i was writing nothing. i came to a conclusion: as i grew as a writer, my standards would shift and change. therefore, there will never exist a timeline where i am 100% satisfied and proud of everything i've ever written. furthermore, this paralytic fear of not telling the story i wanted to tell meant i wasn't telling a story at all. i was setting myself up to fail regardless, so i may as well tell a story while i do it.

the choice came down to, write hundreds of shitty words that were not up to my own (impossible) standard, or write nothing and hope and pray that one day i feel "inspired" enough to get the story in my head out. from a purely logistical standpoint, i think anyone can see which outcome is favourable.

and then i wrote stuff. and, uh, it turns out literally no one feels the same about my writing as i do. i think it sucks shit but everyone else LOVES it and thinks its top tier. which, again, just logically that tells me that my opinion is biased--i'm sitting with the story all day, so it looks predictable and uninspired to me. but no one else has that viewpoint. everyone else is just eating that shit like candy. again, just logistically, this makes it a lot easier to talk down the voice in my head that says i'm not making good enough art. i can just give it a chocolate candy and be like, calm down, little thing. clearly i am.

so to loop it back around: writer's block is just a term people use as a crutch to avoid examining why they feel unable to write. i personally found that saying instead what i am actually struggling with literally instead of chalking it up to some nebulous affliction made me a much more productive writer. i have a general word count i want to make every day and regardless of how i'm feeling i try my best to hit it. and thats why i can just write 45645645 fics all the time like it's nothing.

anyways THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will write mayomei forever if people keep talking to me abt it. they are so precious to me

#wendy rambles #wendy answers

[utilitycaster]

Someone needs to fight back by drawing Imogen with sharp angle+narrow frame glasses that sit just on the end of her nose so she looks down through them, and they make her seem distant and haughty about everything.

Ok so anon I know this is you joking (and while personally I'm like let's just not do the glasses*, I agree that angular art styles for Imogen are really good and love to see them), but like...frankly, I'm in a hotel for the night for work and have very little going on so I just want to talk about Imogen! I think she has a somewhat elusive personality, especially compared to Laura's past two characters, both of whom were pretty extroverted and I think the fanon is simply so wildly different from reality that despite her central role she at times feels like an unknown quantity.

Imogen is not sweet and retiring. She's not terribly haughty; but she's definitely a little sharp, even from the start. She's frustrated with the administrator at the Starpoint Academy despite asking for what is essentially a significant favor, and doesn't attempt to hide it - and that's in episode 1. The fanon idea of Imogen didn't even get past the half-hour mark of the first episode of the campaign before zoning out, briefly coming to at the word "headache" because the sickfic fodder alarm went off or something, but Imogen is prickly and possessive of a certain ruthlessness from quite early on. Nor is she the innocent - her first thought to cover up the noise in the hotel room is to grab Dorian and unbutton her shirt. The idea of Laudna being the prickly, worldly one and Imogen the sweet ingenue should have been dead before Bertrand.

I think the best way to describe her though is that she is walled off. There's the figurative but extremely real psychic walls, which she's only recently been able to let down, but in general Imogen just doesn't quite mix into groups. There's always a certain amount of distance that she holds. It's an incredible change from Jester, who was famously the one to bridge gaps, or even Vex, whose post-adventuring career is the most openly political of Vox Machina's. I think Orym's leadership pep talk, while a good thought, fails, because Imogen is comfortable playing the leader in a lie, but ultimately she wants to neither lead nor follow.

Anyway, that's the thing about Imogen: I genuinely do not think she consciously believes herself better than other people, certainly not in an "I'm so awesome" manner; but she does hold herself aloof. She has concrete proof of the terrible thoughts that strangers have and I think does not realize the flaws of her own thought patterns as a result. I don't want to say it's a lack of shame or embarrassment but it certainly feels faintly atrophied. It's like the social contract has been just a bit corrupted. I think I described it before as that she sees hypocrisy as "not honestly saying what you're thinking to your allies" rather than being about a discrepancy of word and action. I also wonder if the fact that Imogen spends so much time in people's heads is tied to the fact that it took her until she was 26 and had no other options in order to leave Gelvaan, despite the fact that she wasn't happy there.

I'm really interested to see how it goes because I don't actually see this as a story that can resolve purely because of the power of love and friendship. I suspect Imogen is just starting to realize these things about herself, and I similarly suspect she doesn't really care for them...but I don't think she knows quite how to stop or change nor does she entirely want to.

I think this sense of being caught between so many things - always being the secret third option - is really well demonstrated with her powers. A pretty consistent theme in Critical Role through both Campaign 2 and 3 is regarding the sources of power and their disconnect from any morality - power simply is, the wielder's choices are what matter. Imogen started out wishing to be rid of her abilities, and she's increasingly moving to embrace them, even as she simultaneously has found out that the source of her powers is likely a literal cosmic horror and her mother is much more than a voice in her dreams. It's fascinating to me that the people she tends to be most honest with are the people with the most unknown pasts, and I feel she's moving towards an era of reinventing herself. Which will put that big question of aloofness at the forefront - it is, to be fair, faster to go alone, and easier to reinvent yourself when the people who knew you before aren't around.

Anyway this is a really long way to say "haughty, not really, but she is all angles, in multiple senses of the word."

*tangent here but: I was scrolling the Imogen tag recently and something I noticed that's very telling is that most art of Imogen in glasses (and to be fair a lot of art generally) isn't described, but when it is, the description also almost always leaves out her glasses. Which really puts the kibosh on the idea this was ever about normalizing glasses or uh, any aids for people with visual impairments, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#answered #Anonymous #imogen temult #critical role

[caspersickfanfics]

I've read through the Cyno seasick scenario @relevantlucidity brought up multiple times now and I swear every time I read it, I'm even more obsessed with it oml. If it ends up being a fic, I would read the heck out of it!!

I absolutely love anything surrounding those four sumeru boys,,, Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, and Alhaitham are just such a good friend group, my heart simply loses it, I love them. A SICKFIC SCENARIO WITH ALL FOUR OF THEM?? I am losing it. (Honestly I need to write them all too. I have no experience writing Alhaitham especially so I've been a little hesitant to commit to anything, but I really want to write them all, so I definitely need to make plans for that)

I feel like everything I want to say would just me screaming repeating everything y'all already said, but gah!! Cyno hiding how he's feeling because he feels like the other two are more in need of Tighnari's help than him. It's so!! Cyno!! And it hurts me!! But I love it!!

Don't even get me started on the anxiety with the return trip AHH. Internally he would be so freaked out at the thought of possibly getting that sick again, even with Tighnari's reassurances

Agh yes!!! That scenario is so good!!! I love the sumeru crew sm and would be thrilled to see them in your writing!!! It's funny that you're hesitant about Alhaitham - I feel that way about Kaveh :') Even though I wrote him a bit in one fic, he wasn't actually in the fic that much 😂 I relate to Alhaitham so much more 😬 But yes I gotta get over that because I am such a sucker for good friendships, I need the whole gang there!!! Not to mention, I just thought about Kaveh and Alhaitham perpetually arguing and making Cyno feel even worse... like one thing about Alhaitham/Kaveh is that if you have a headache or any level of anxiety, you don't wanna be anywhere near them lmao

I love the screaming! You're so right, poor Cyno would be having just an awful anxiety-ridden time on the way home. I actually like the idea of Alhaitham and Kaveh calling a truce for his sake on the way back. Like Cyno would try to act like he's not worried around them but they both know him well enough to recognize he's not doing great. I also have a soft spot for Kaveh taking care of sick Cyno?? Idk if it would fit for this fic, but Kaveh coming across Cyno puking in the toilet maybe while Tighnari is looking after Alhaitham or getting him some water could be really sweet. Since (I'm pretty sure??) Kaveh is older, I picture them taking on thee roles of big brother/little brother - Kaveh being very reassuring and steady while Cyno relents and accepts his help. Maybe out of character? Idk but I like it haha

I can just ramble about this scenario forever apparently haha XD Thank you for this ask!! <333

prev seasickness hc discussion here!

#dutifullyshamelessearthquake #cas chats #headcanons #tighnari hc #sick cyno hc #alhaitham hc #kaveh hc #genshin hc #to write #genshin impact hc

[nilboxes]

Nitimur in Vetitum Part 4 of Nemo Saltat Sobrius, Nisi Forte Insanit, an Aventio Series

Read at AO3

Rating info, tags and extensive notes ⬇ (mentions some leaks regarding planar orb)

I've always wanted, for the longest time, to be able to capture a film noir feel written fiction and while I don't necessarily feel like I did it here 100% I felt like I nailed down some of the atmosphere and the themes.

I fully went into writing this with the idea that Aventurine had a mini vacation while he's still preparing for the assignment, but he doesn't really strike me as the type to just truly lounge around when something as huge as the Penacony gig is looming over his head, so he actually had some kind of purpose there, not exactly minor but not major either.

The plot sort of got away from me and just wrote itself with Aventurine going through the motions of a date. This isn't their first sit-down together meal as I wrote in a 2nd part of the sickfic drabble in the drabble series (which I didn't cover because it'd just be sick Aven trying to eat and Ratio quietly watching over him) but this is a first proper one.

I always feel like Aven is a big eater when he does actually find time to eat, otherwise he's chowing down on some nutrient paste thing when he's on the go (an idea that always stuck with me ever since I read a tidbit of that Warhammer lore and it was kinda sad way to find sustenance honestly) I feel like Aven does try to eat good food as much as he can, obviously having grown up not being able to indulge in those things.

I REALLY love the scene where Aven is trying to protect Veritas from seeing the carnage. I feel like it'll only really appeal to me but whatever, but the idea of short king Aventurine being all domineering, cupping Veritas' face and leading him to face away and saying "look at me" is so AUGH I did well for myself here I come back and read this scene now and then

I also really like exploring Aventurine's conflicting ideas about whether or not he should keep Veritas close to him. I never once felt like he didn't feel as if he didn't deserve it, but he definitely felt like he was doing something wrong because he's inevitably going to hurt Veritas one way or another if he lets Veritas invest feelings in him when he throws his life around in gambles and doesn't really fully expect to come out of it. I suppose he feels irresponsible for that? But then Aventurine, for me, is nothing but greedy, I feel like that's the essence of his character, and it's more intriguing when there seems to be no real substance to that (no higher purpose, no true meaning) other than he is a hungry little thing and he will gamble for more because he wants more (probably a trauma response to be honest)

I think here I wrote Veritas in such a manner that he is always so clinically interested in Aventurine, but there's not a lot of emotional processing until he looks into Aventurine's sad, dull eyes and is somehow enchanted enough to wax poetics. I feel the awkwardness is a bit on brand for Ver, since he's so smooth and elegant when he's alone and not talking, but when he does the pomposity just doesn't mix too well, which I find cute.

On Aventurine's side, I could not resist adding in some early context about how he really, truly sees Veritas as his "savior" and I touched upon this again in another drabble, but the idea of the Scholar King was what got him through his early days in the IPC, and then serves as sort of an anchor and comfort during his personal trials when he became a Stoneheart was something I always liked to serve as the basis of why he approached Veritas as depicted in the light cone. I think he never really thought about where it would go though, hence when he got what he wanted he wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to keep it hence the attempt at driving Veritas away.

When I wrote this, the leaked description of the Sigonia planar ornament came, and I like to say the rain coming in to salvage Aventurine's attempts at self-sabotage is deliberate, but it was really a happy accident that I just quietly tied around his past.

The sex scene idek, that was really hard to write. I wrote like 1000 words on Veritas POV before I realized I was going about it the wrong way and switched to Aven's, did not make it any easier, but I at least thought the indescribable yearning was conveyed properly, so while it might not be the most coherent scene I think I'm pretty happy with it anyway.

Next up: a slightly less angsty fic, and a retrospection that probably deals with 2.1 events depending on how things go!

#voidmancer writes #hsr #hsr fanfic #aventio #aventurine x dr ratio #this is so late lmao

[rayclubs]

(Howdy! I’m sending asks from both games, if that’s alright!)

13: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

31: Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

K:  Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

THE BITCH FILE oh god oh holy, I don't read a lot of fanfics but that one lives in my head in a very special way, the dialogue is so raw and awesome. I'd do a sequel. Though to be honest, I've always been more of an original story-type guy.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I like to have at least some degree of consistency with canon, but I'm not opposed to bending it or interpreting it in a way that wasn't intended by the author. I'd describe my relationship with canon as respectful malicious compliance. There are always some elements that I don't like and will happily ignore, and some I will purposefully twist and warm to suit my fancy, but I like my works to be grounded in pre-existing established rules to give myself certain limitations that push creativity. But it's not as deep as it sounds, really. At the end of the day, I just write what I like.

Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Oh boy, yeah, I do, and I'm not entirely sure I want to go into detail about why I like to read in write it, but a game's a game so I gotta answer fairly. I like hurt/comfort! To a shameful degree, even. I'm a sucker for that drama, for all the related tropes, and most of my works have at least some elements of the genre. I'm realizing this may sound tame in comparison with some of the things y'all write and read, but honestly I would much rather be into some hardcore kinky pornography but no, it's actually the sickfics. Bloody hell. My reputation is ruined and I will never recover.

Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

Spinning in my chair phasing through the floor chanting "HeavySoldier HeavySoldier HeavySoldier" repeatedly until the words lose their meaning. But yeah. I was kind of thinking of writing a sad, actually sad story, maybe an unrequited love type plot, but I'm worried I'll just make myself miserable doing it. We'll see. I don't have a coherent plot in mind yet, I'm afraid.

#raynswers #thanks for the mail <33

[danafeelingsick]

I have a writing request if you weren't already planning on writing anything for the new event. But Itto and Shinobu (platonic ofc) sickfic where Itto gets seasick on the way to Liyue? He would probably deny it the entire time. I'm honestly just a sucker for Itto suffering and denial.

A/N so, i'll just say right off the bat, this isn't my best work. i planned way too much, and in the end i couldn't use half of it. and not only that, if i had written all i planned this would've been 5 parts long, at least. ugh. sorry for the wait anon, if you're still around. i was working on some stuff behind the scenes, had some places to be, think i got food poisoning for the first time in years (didn't even get to puke), all that on top of a writer's block. but i think i'm past that. hope you still get to read this.

ᴏɴᴇ sᴇᴀsɪᴄᴋ ᴏɴɪ

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

Takes place before the Interlude Chapter II of the Archon quest: Perilous Trail, in which Arataki Itto and Kuki Shinobu travel to Liyue by boat, but what Itto failed to realize is that he gets seasick.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ seasickness, nausea, hunger, stomach noises, vomiting, descriptions of food, too much exposition

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 3.5k~

The day seemed promising. The skies were clear, dyed a peaceful blue, with white clouds blending into the light of the sun, making for a sight worthy of a painting. It was a blessing the people of Inazuma had long prayed for, and now that they could grasp it, adjusting to the peace could take a while.

The Sakoku decree had been lifted, and the fierce storm enclosing Inazuma had since dissipated, allowing for open borders and hospitality to flourish. With plans on hold for more than a year, any aspiring traveler impatient enough latched onto the opportunity to course the seas of Teyvat as soon as it was permitted.

Kuki Shinobu, on the other hand, had been smarter, waiting until the high spirits died down so she could snag a place aboard the next parting ship. The sudden influx of newcomers wanting to experience the famed irodori festival first-hand put her schedule on hold for another few months.

Her diploma, the proof of her time studying law at an acclaimed school of Liyue, and the independence she held dear, could wait. After all, it had already waited for several months, a few more wouldn't make a difference. And her gang needed her, first and foremost.

A soothing breeze carried the lingering smell of salt as it blew gently over her, although subtle through the mask, she could still notice it. The scent was nostalgic, almost, she could associate it with the thrill of a chase, or a silent escapade in the dead of night. It was an aroma that clung to her memories, and to every corner of that island.

It was pleasant, familiar, at least to her. Arataki Itto had been trying not to let her notice, but the smell had been bothering him ever since they arrived. She would sneak a glance only to catch him shoving a knuckle in one of his nostrils, or wrinkling his nose every time the wind brought it.

She was worried at first, but that didn't seem to sour his mood. Itto had been nearly bouncing in excitement when they boarded the ship, talking non-stop about all the things he expected to see in Liyue, his enthusiasm would be contagious if it wasn't tiring.

When Shinobu first spoke of the trip, Itto's eyes had quite literally lightened up, immediately he insisted on going along. Strength in numbers, under many excuses, but she knew well he just wanted to meet the land of his vision.

She didn't complain, not initially. Maybe separating Itto from the rest of the gang would prevent the messes she wouldn't be around to clean in the meantime. She would be able to keep an eye on him, maybe Liyue's culture of hard work and value would drill some sense into him. Or maybe he would only serve as a nuisance for another nation…

The deputy leader tried to push those worries to the back of her mind, glancing away from the infinite sea ahead to her more immediate concern. Arataki Itto was leaning over the railing, both hands gripping the cold steel as he watched Inazuma city turn into a silhouette beyond the rolling waves. His eyes darted across the horizon as he found new things to be excited about.

Maybe boarding this early hadn't been a mistake, after all. It was such a beautiful day, the sea looked so calm, she couldn't help but indulge him for a bit, so she agreed to stay with him on deck. Quickly, she lost track of time, watching the sea glisten under the sunlight, her plans of reviewing the basics of her studies during the trip now a second worry.

Seasickness was the last thing on her mind, as serene as she was, so when Itto leaned further over the rail and lost a bit of the color in his face, she thought nothing of it.

Itto wouldn't have been any wiser. That first excitement was still buzzing within him even as he grew tired of watching the horizon, shifting his attention to the waves below instead, watching closely as he thought he could see the outline of sea life swimming along the ship.

Maybe all of that excitement served to leave in his blissful ignorance. Itto was a crimson Oni, first and foremost, which meant he was bound to be explosive, his emotions burning more intensely than most. Which in part, left him regularly experiencing the stronger parts of it through his stomach.

He first noticed the sharp smell of salt stinging his nostrils, but soon he grew used to it, and the faint dizzying effect it had on him. None of that he could excuse, but still, he tried, even when it quickly evolved into a slight pressure behind his eyes, spreading to his forehead.

The Oni remained optimistic, finding in the scenery new things to distract him for a while. But as soon as he turned to the waves he noted the pressure was building steadily, translating into an odd tension in the back of his throat, and then in the extent of his esophagus.

It took a moment for it to reach his stomach. In the meantime, he tried to get used to the unusual, almost uncanny motion of the ship. He could feel the constant swaying whenever he focused on the waves relentlessly whipping the side of the boat, bathing it in glistening salt, raising that smell… The floor tilting beneath his sandals, almost as if it was breathing along with him.

And when it did, he could only think of acid bathing the inner walls of his stomach, just like the sea bathing the side of the ship, staining the wood, threatening to slip into the deck… Cold chills ran through his abdomen every time his mind decided to get colorful, a frigid sinking feeling flashing along any thought that otherwise left him excited.

After all, he had never traveled by boat before. Even when relocating cargo doing some odd job, they wouldn't move like that while moored to the pier. It could be said he'd never properly boarded a ship either, but he wasn't about to go telling Shinobu that. Just the sharp look she would shoot him already had his stomach already growing cold.

Itto blinked repeatedly, feeling somewhat disoriented as his head hung over the rail, but he shook it vehemently, almost as if he could just negate what this trip was doing to him. It wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening.

His mouth tasted stale as his saliva turned thicker, reminding him of the meal he had the night before: lavender melon which he roasted with his gang as a brief departure celebration, and a commemoration for the deputy leader's graduation. He lied when he said to Shinobu that the celebration was only that, but that idea was still on the drawing board.

Itto was loosely running through concepts for his great drumming festival when something pulled him out of it, a pang of hunger sprouting in his abdomen, anticipating a short yet deep growl coming for the pits of his stomach. He looked over his shoulder discreetly, trying to see if Shinobu had heard him.

They hadn't had the time for breakfast, he remembered, Shinobu was already rushing him out the door before he even had the chance to properly wake up. Breakfast was the least of his worries, but he would hold her to the promise of grabbing a bite sooner than later.

Lifting his shoulders off the railing, Itto brushed a hand over his exposed midriff, letting it rest there as he softly kneaded into it, trying to make it quiet down. There was his excuse, he had been hungry this whole time.

“Hey, Shinobu?” He called first, turning in time to see her peaceful look sharpen as she caught his. It gave him pause, making him think again of how he was going to approach this. “How hungry are you, like right now?”

Shinobu was nearly unreadable, her face was always indistinguishable from rage under that grinning Oni mask, but he quickly noticed her relaxed posture, a hand casually resting on her hip as she tilted to face him.

“Not much, why?”, she shot back, arching an eyebrow behind her choppy green bangs. “Are you already?”

“Yup”, he chuckled, giving his defined abdomen a few firm pats before rubbing over it, her eyes following.

“Really? We had lunch less than an hour ago”, she informed, crossing her arms. “Are you sure you want to eat now? I think they will be serving food soon.”

It didn't sound so bad, but Itto's stomach cramped impatiently, his lunch hadn't been much more than a portion of rice that barely made a dent, he had even forgotten about it, and his stomach had as well.

“Then I'll just have to eat again”, Itto shrugged, trying to laugh it off once more, but Shinobu just rolled her eyes. “It's just a snack, c'mooon.”

“Ugh, fine”, she scoffed, but her gaze softened not that he had convinced her, she knew arguing against a bull-headed Oni was a lost battle from the very beginning. “I'll see if I can grab you anything.”

“You're the best Shinobu”, he thanked her in a playful tone, making himself chuckle once more when he recalled her scowl.

Itto must've only spent a couple of minutes alone, his eyes following the wave's constant movement when he quickly grew bored. Part of him still fought to believe all of that unrest was just hunger pains, but the more he could feel his stomach sloshing inside his abdomen, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

He thought closely about what he was feeling, assessing his mix of symptoms, and until that point, he could excuse everything for hunger. He was used to his digestive system being unsettled from the smallest thing, this wasn't any different. The dizziness, the pressure behind his eyes, the taste of his mouth salivating, all of that remained in his head, but his stomach was starting to feel more agitated than normal, his appetite along with it.

That same hand came to rest over his belly again when he heard it grumble impatiently, something shifting uncomfortably under his palm as his gut sloshed, sending a stale taste to his mouth. He tried to swallow, gulping an awful lot of saliva before more washed over his tongue, his throat bobbing as it became indecisive.

Puking was the last thing in his mind as he leaned further over the side of the boat, promptly spitting out the excess into the sea, watching as the thick gob of froth disappeared almost instantly. It was a feeling he hated, his tongue both soaked and dry, his drool slimy and heavy weighing on it, filling his mouth with saliva right before he…

“Boss?” He nearly jumped when something sharp poked him in the shoulder and Shinobu appeared in the corner of his vision, her mask gone, revealing lips pressed in concern underneath it. “You okay there?”

“Uh? Y-Yeah, I'm okay”, he responded promptly, his voice coming from the back of his throat as he fought to keep the growing nausea there.

Shinobu's eyes lingered around his face as she sought a tell of his lie, Itto had a sheen of sweat making his face glisten, and his lips were quivering as if he was about to burst into tears. She had seen him cry before, it wasn't a pretty sight, but not a single logical explanation came to mind. He straightened his back, towering over her even though they were a few feet apart, but his hands remained firm on the railing.

“Yeah… look, I brought some egg rolls for us”, she said, suspicion still lingering in her tone, even as she handed him the plate, but kept the chopsticks to herself. “There, you look like you're about to fall over, so eat up.”

Itto thanked her clumsily, eyes fixed on the rolled squares of the fried egg as he took one between his fingers, creamy yolk dripping back into the ceramic. He risked a bite, his appetite disappearing as soon he tasted the over sweetness, but without thinking ahead, he shoved it whole in his mouth.

The gooey undercooked texture threatened to make him gag as it went down his gullet, only adding more for his gut to churn. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when his stomach seemed to lurch, almost as if it was rebelling against the attempt to ease it.

Itto carefully breathed through his nose, swallowing almost convulsively the near river of drool overflowing his mouth. When he could finally open his eyes, everything was spinning slowly, alluding to the contents of his stomach swaying along with the sea.

“Let me guess, you don't want it anymore?” Shinobu scoffed, her suspicion shortly confirmed by Itto pressing a hand over his belly, clutching at it when it gave a low sickly growl. “I knew you'd be too full to finish it. Give it here.”

Gladly, Itto handed her back the plate, hurriedly turning to the sea and gripping the railing, the cold steel biting into his palms as he squeezed on it, nearly bending it. He pressed his lips into a thin line, hoping he would be able to breathe around the slimy nausea clouding his senses. His throat was spasming against his resistance, weak gags making his cheeks bulge and quiver.

Shinobu watched in disbelief as Itto leaned further over the side of the boat, losing all color in his face as he tried to contain the gagging behind his lips. She quickly placed the food aside, a last lonely egg roll none of the two wanted, and rushed to his side.

“Boss, what's wrong?”, she inquired, laying a hand on his shoulder, he nearly winced under her touch. The first thing in her mind was allergies, but seeing him sway in place, almost in sync with the rolling deck. Suddenly everything clicked. “You get seasick?”

Itto squeezed his eyes shut when he heard it, vehemently shaking his head, small breathy hums of denial following. He fought to get a word out, but when he did, it dripped with raw nausea: “I- I don't… 'm guh, fine I swear.”

Shinobu frowned, feeling his back hitch under her hand, each motion being cut short by his stubbornness. He fought to swallow, his belly caving painfully as he struggled to keep it under control. Silently, she started gathering his long hair, joining messy strands of white and red between her hands and holding it away from his face.

“You should've just told me”, she said, coming off harsher than she intended. “I would've brought medicine for you.”

Itto didn't respond, his body only growing tenser as he anticipated another heave, ready to stiffen his abdomen as soon as it came. But Shinobu guided him to lean further, laying a free hand on his bare stomach, the touch earning a muffled whimper out of the Oni.

“Just get this over with”, she hissed, forcing him to hunch as she mercilessly kneaded into his stomach.

“Fuck– eEeERrUGgHH”, he gave a broken retch as the added pressure forced out everything he had been trying to contain.

The Oni lurched forward, the contents of his stomach spewing through the crack of his lips, lumps of bright yellow egg bits, and watery stomach acid forming an arch in the air before they plummeted to the ocean. He could feel the pieces of egg he barely chewed going up his esophagus, flooding his mouth.

His belly clenched harshly under Shinobu's palm, but she didn't stop pressing, earning more garbled retches out of him. If it wasn't for her holding him in place, Itto would've probably fallen over by that point, his head was spinning mercilessly, the constant swaying of the ship translating into his legs nearly giving out under him.

“Uuuggh… ughh, guh–”, he moaned, the noise strained and pitiful, turning weirdly wet when more vomit cut him off. “EeurRRGHH.”

Itto lurched one more time, offering more of his lunch to the waves below, the mixture taking a lighter more tan color when it tapped into the rice he had eaten earlier.

Shinobu tried not to pay attention to it, but only a glance and she could already identify singular grains and yellow lumps amidst the bile, barely different than what it looked like before. Just the thought of it, how she knew exactly how it tasted and felt in her mouth had her suppressing a gag, wishing she hadn't taken her mask off.

Her mask, she thought, horror flashing in her mind, and instinctively she looked over her shoulder, finding a few wandering gazes glued to the seasick Oni. She could only sigh and hope no one capable of recognizing her would do so. One priority formed itself, however, she needed to get him back to their cabin.

“EEeeUURRrrGGHHHH”, Itto retched loudly under her, his back heaving as he struggled through another sizable wave of dense lumpy puke. This time she could even see when some of it gushed out his nose, trailing towards his mouth. She had to look away. “F-Fuck, huUURrk.”

As the wave tapered off, Itto started hacking painfully, his lungs giving sharp spasms she could feel on her palm, and gently, although impatiently brushed her hand up and down the line of his back.

“There, there”, she said, her voice coming off as a bored rasp, but there was still some sincerity to it. “Just try to breathe, okay? You'll be alright once you get used to it.”

He kept gagging, unable to bring up anything else, his dizziness unwavering even as Shinobu tried to stabilize him. Against his better judgment, Itto shook his head, the motion sending him further into nausea.

“No what?”

“Not… I'm not… seasick”, he slurred, voice bordering a gurgle as he fought through nausea to get his words out. “I… swear.”

Shinobu let out a deep sigh, giving him another glance. His lie was clear in the way his legs were swaying along with the ship, his head hanging low as bile and drool leaked down his chin.

“If you're not, then I'll just leave you here. You seem okay enough to get back to our cabin on your own”, she crossed her arms, watching him freeze, the constant gags turning into shuddering swallows.

“I– guh”, he tried to speak, but the threat of vomiting again weighed on his voice, trapping it behind his tongue.

“For fuck's sake”, Shinobu muttered, returning a hand to his back. “Alright, I'll give you a minute. Just tell me when you're good.”

Itto waited a moment, leaving his mouth open for the excess of awful-tasting drool to drip out, his eyes drifting along with the waves before he realized he could just close them. His headache was killing him, making him feel as if someone was holding him upside down, mercilessly shaking him like a cola bottle.

Shinobu kept that hand on his back, weighing on him more than anything else, but he didn't dare to complain. She already sounded pissed off enough, and he couldn't blame her. He had come on this trip uninvited, and now he had just become a nuisance.

“Ugh…”, he groaned, raising himself from the rail. Why was this happening to him? “A-Alright… I'm good, l-let's go.”

Shinobu raised an eyebrow, doubting, but didn't say a thing, simply crossing her arms. Itto moved slowly, for a moment just standing there with both hands over his belly, eyes closed as he swayed from side to side, taking careful shuddering swallows. Each step took years off him, but eventually, they made it to their cabin, a tidy-looking one at that.

They had agreed to share a bunk bed, Itto would stay with the bottom one simply for the fact he didn't fit the space between the top one and the ceiling. Shinobu carelessly tore off the bed covers, dragging the mattress to the floor, and led Itto to it.

“There. Puke on this if you feel like it, but don't get any of it on the floor”, she ordered, handing him a small empty trash can which Itto took shakingly. He hadn't said a word since they arrived here. “What's up with you, huh?”

“I–”, he sniffed, his eyes welling up with tears. “I really don't feel good…”

“Wow, really? You don't say”, she faked her surprise. “Come on, you could've just said you get seasick. I would've brought anything you would need, no need to be shy.”

“I– I didn't know either. I've never… been on a boat before”, he admitted.

“Ugh, of course”, Shinobu hit her face with a palm. “I should've known. You get motion sick on wagons, why would this be any different?”

Itto let out a strangled whimper, both lamenting not thinking ahead. His stomach growled sadly, and his face crumpled.

“Why don't you try to take a nap? I'll see what I can do in the meantime”, she suggested, her gaze softening.

“A-Alright…”, he agreed, kicking off his sandals and laying back in bed, his frown never letting up. “I-I'm sorry Shinobu… for ruining your trip.”

She froze where she stood. “It's fine, you didn't ruin anything”, came the cold answer. “Not yet anyway.”

He understood the message, loud and clear, and turned his back to her, closing eyes and waited for sleep to come.

#emeto #emetophilia #nausea #seasickness #hunger #food mention #vomiting #stomach noises #gen/shin imp/act #gen/shin imp/act arat/aki it/to #gen/shin imp/act ku/ki shin/obu #mentioned arat/aki gang #read as platonic only #unwilling caretaking #unwilling caretaker #tw vomit #tw emeto #dana//emeto fic #my writing

[chruper]

I'm here again with my favorite kind of one shot. A sickfic. And it's about my OCs as you might have guessed. I have a few more stories with them in my notes so I think I'll post them all, and more in the future. So here we go.

[•••]

Nick hardly ever got sick. But when he did, it hit him hard. Very hard. When he woke up that morning, he immediately knew he wasn't going to school. His head was pounding, every muscle of his body felt like it was about to rip at any moment. Not to mention his awfully stuffy nose and a sore throat. Yup, he definitely wasn't going to school. He didn't have much energy to get up, but he had to pee very bad. Unfortunately, being sick doesn't stop your body from having the basic needs. Nick slowly got up and immediately felt a shiver down his spine. He sluggishly went to the bathroom, did what he had to do, and went back to bed as fast as he could. Going to the kitchen for medicine wasn't his priority right now, even though he knew he should do it, he'd rather stay in bed. He did so, quickly falling asleep. After some time, he was brutally woken up by his ear-piercing ringtone. Of course it was Matt calling. He obviously noticed his boyfriend's absence and got worried. But who wouldn't, honestly. Nick reached over for his phone and picked up "Hey, why you callin'?" he asked, his voice sounded raspy, which Matt noticed straight away "Nick, dude, are you alright? You don't sound so good" he said, worrying about the other boy "Well I feel probably 10 times worse than I sound, but thanks for asking" Nick said and chuckled, which caused him to fall into a massive coughing fit. When he was done with the painful coughs, Matt spoke up "I'm going to come over after school, someone has to take care of you" he offered. Nick's parents were currently out of town, so he was all alone. Sure, he could use some company and maybe some help too, but he didn't want to be a burden and accidentally get his boyfriend sick "You know you don't have to do this? I'll be fine" he lied "I don't have to, but I want to. I'll be there at 3, see ya" Matt said as he ended the call, not giving Nick a moment to respond. Nick grumbled as he put his phone aside. He thought it could be a great idea to at least drink some water, so he got up, still covered in his blanket like in a cocoon, and went down to the kitchen. Although on his way there, his attention was driven to a couch. It was very appealing, so Nick thought laying down for few more minutes wouldn't hurt him. He settled himself and his eyelids immediately started to feel heavy. The last thing he remembered was a sight of ceiling getting more and more blurry as he slowly fell asleep again.

Apparently, it was way more than just a few minutes of sleep. And Nick's little nap would last even longer if not for Matt, who came knocking at the other's door. Nick slowly got up and went to open the door, still wrapped in a blanket of course. Was it only him or his whole house felt a lot colder than usual?

When Matt saw his boyfriend in his miserable state, a look of concern appeared on his face. Nick was pale, very pale. He always was, but now his skin was almost white. Accompanied with a red flush, from a fever probably, he was a walking picture of misery. "You look like hell" Matt commented. Nick groaned and just said "Thanks, I feel even worse" after which he let his boyfriend inside. Matt stepped in, setting the grocery bags down on the counter. He took cold medicine, cough drops and some snacks out of the bag and placed them on the coffee table next to the couch Nick was currently sitting on. The sick boy really looked miserable. He was shivering because of the fever, he was pale, and he had very visible eyebags. His look was certainly very pitiful. Matt sat down next to his boyfriend "Let me feel your forehead" he said, bringing his hand up to Nick's forehead "Man, you really are burning up" he stated "You should be in bed"

"Fine mom" Nick replied sarcastically. His sick state didn't stop him from being as sassy as always. Nevertheless, he stood up and went back to his bedroom to lie down. Matt stayed in the kitchen to make him some tea. When he was done, he took it to Nick's bedroom and there settled the cup on his boyfriend's nightstand. He also gave him the necessary medicine, which the other took without hesitation, then slowly finished drinking his tea.

After some time has passed, Nick fell asleep. Matt stayed by his side all the time, holding his hand, and occasionally changing the wet towel on Nick's forehead to ease his fever.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty" Matt said when his boyfriend woke up "Do you want me to make you something to eat?" he asked. Nick shook his head, sitting up. He could swear he felt even worse than before. His whole body felt like it was on fire, despite the earlier taken medicine, and there was a weird, heavy feeling in his stomach. He groaned in pain while clutching his stomach "I think I'm gonna-" he was about to finish the sentence, but got cut off by the sudden wave of nausea, which caused him to spring out of his bed and head straight to the bathroom. Matt followed after, wanting to be there for his boyfriend. After entering the bathroom, he found Nick on his knees, gagging into the toilet bowl. Matt crouched next to him, holding Nick's hair back with one hand, and putting the other on his sweat-covered back. After a few long minutes, Nick finally stopped throwing up and leaned back, melting into his boyfriend's arms. He started sobbing, being overwhelmed by his current state. Matt held him in his arms, assuring him that everything is alright and gently rubbing his back. When his hand found itself on Nick's neck, Matt realized that his boyfriend was abnormally warm, even more than before. He didn't want to disturb him, but he had to. "Nick, you have a fever" he said, on which the other replied with a single "Mhm"

"Come on, you'll feel better in bed than on the bathroom floor" Matt said, trying to guide his boyfriend to bed. He glanced at Nick's face and noticed how hazy he looked. He was probably too sick to process anything that was happening. When he was finally settled in bed, the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. "Look, I have to check your temperature. Then you can sleep. Sounds fine?" Matt asked, and Nick nodded. After he was done, he gave Nick another dose of his fever medicine. He expected him to just turn away from him and go to sleep, but instead he stretched his arms towards his boyfriend, suggesting that he wanted to cuddle. Matt smiled at the sight, getting under the covers with his boyfriend. "I love you" Nick said, already drifting away to sleep.

"I love you too, dork" Matt replied, smiling.

The two of them soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

#fanfiction #oneshot #fanfiction writer #drabble #gay couple #gay people #loveislove #mlm love #oc story #oc #oc tag #gay love #sickfic #sick day #sick characters #whump #whump tropes #sickness #fever #tw vomit #emeto tw #emetophobia #oc fluff #flu season #help? #help me pls

[sneezyminniejo]

heyy :) i really love the way you write because you always add so much detail and everything!!!

in the behind the scenes of the recent txt to do episode with the cat ears there is a clip of yeonjun where he dozed off during filming … i was wondering if you could maybe write a sickfic where he is feeling unwell and tired that day and has a fever (that he does not know of) and the members notice it and try to comfort him as good as they can while filming and then after filming is done they shower him with love and affection and try to make him feel better 🥺

Here it is. Hope you enjoy

A Fever's a Fever, No Matter How Small

The filming of ToDo was in full swing and Yeonjun was having a difficult time. Sure, he was enjoying all the games they were playing, but he was having trouble focusing and was generally feeling a bit off. Admittedly he had been feeling a bit off since he woke up, but their schedules had been busier lately, and he probably shouldn't have stayed up late trying to finish his newest book. All in all, he figured that he was just overly tired from inadvertently pulling an all-nighter. Besides, they’ve had days where they basically had to be awake for almost forty hours. He’s used to sleep deprivation. It just probably wasn’t wise to skimp on sleep when he could actually get some. But whatever, what’s done is done.

The members were currently playing a game with electronic cat ears. Everyone was doing their best to either get one of the others flustered enough to move their ears or keep calm enough to keep their own ears still. Even though the group was being their usual loud, chaotic selves, Yeonjun was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He was doing his best, but as the minutes ticked by, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay awake.

Taehyun had taken note of Yeonjun's slightly odd behavior, but felt that the middle of filming wasn't the right time to confront the older. It wasn't until he could hear some very faint snoring under all the chaos that Taehyun decided to intervene.

"I think Yeonjun hyung fell asleep." The second youngest stated as he gestured to the man sitting next to him. The others started snickering a bit loudly at seeing Yeonjun sound asleep with cat ears on his head. Beomgyu went to poke the elder's cheek and frowned a little when he removed his hand.

"Does hyung feel warm to you?" He asked. This resulted in all of them feeling Yeonjun's face while making it look like teasing. After all, the cameras were still filming them. Soobin went to talk to the manager, only to be told that they couldn't reschedule the shoot.

"Guys, manager-nim says that we don't have any space in our schedules to refilm this episode, so we have to wake up hyung and continue filming." Soobin said with regret painted on his face.

Taehyun shook Yeonjun's shoulder, but the older man didn't stir. The other three members did the same, but Yeonjun was out like a light. Beomgyu sighed as he stood up before running over to where his backpack was. He returned a couple minutes later with an air horn.

"Hyung, why do you have an air horn?" Kai asked. Beomgyu shrugged his shoulders a bit. "I honestly don't really know. Someone in one of the idol group chats I’m in, I forget which decided that it would be funny to prank their group with an air horn, and it’s been migrating between groups. Kinda like that one book about the pants. Somebody put it in my bag during our most recent music show.”

Beomgyu raised the air horn a bit, turning his head away from the device. The other members pressed their hands against their ears to protect them from the loud sound. Beomgyu pressed the button and everyone startled at least a little bit. Yeonjun jumped out of his seat into a standing position. “I’m awake. I wasn’t sleeping.” The eldest said as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“Sure hyung. Anyway we have about two more hours of filming then we’ll go home.” Soobin said as he took the air horn from Beomgyu. “I’m keeping this until we get back to the dorm. I don’t want you using this on unsuspecting staff.” Soobin chided. Beomgyu looked a little bit offended, if it weren’t for the mischievous glint in his eyes. Soobin knows the younger a bit too well.

The initial burst of adrenaline that woke Yeonjun up faded rather quickly and the members found him dozing off not even ten minutes later. Taehyun began having to discreetly slap him every so often so that he’d stay awake. It was a little bit concerning, as the last time Yeonjun had been sick, he hadn’t been this fatigued.  Soobin made the decision that once they were done filming this episode, they were going to take Yeonjun home and get him to bed. He also wanted to know exactly how high his hyung’s fever was in order for him to be tired.

At some point the members decided to give up on trying to keep Yeonjun awake. It wasn’t exactly sustainable to be hitting one of the members every few minutes. Sobbin managed to talk the producer into letting them end the episode early, so they quickly said their closing remarks on the episode before wrapping up the episode. Soobin and Kai teamed up to walk Yeonjun to the van and then inside the dorm when they arrived. To no one’s surprise, Yeonjun was fast asleep by the time he was pulled up outside of the groups place of residence.

Taehyun went to the bathroom and grabbed the thermometer, while Beomgyu cleared off the sofa so Soobin and Kai wouldn’t have to walk so far. Taehyun returned with the thermometer just as Soobin and Kai finished getting Yeonjun properly positioned on the couch. Taehyun placed the thermometer in the eldest’s mouth, and the group waited for it to beep. When the device beeped, Taehyun removed it from Yeonjun’s mouth and frowned when he saw the number.

“How high’s his fever? Do we need to take him to the doctor?” Soobin asked, trying to figure out why Taehyun was frowning at the number.

“His temp is 38.3 (100.9F). It’s not nearly as high as I thought it was going to be given how sleepy and out of it he’s been today.” 

“Hyungs, a fever is still a fever regardless of how high it is. Besides, have we even seen Yeonjun hyung with a fever before?” Kai asked. The others thought about it for a moment before they all shook their heads.

“Okay, so maybe this is just how he is with a fever. I’m going to grab some medicine, can one of you make some rice or something for him to eat.” Soobin said as he walked towards the bathroom.

When Soobin returned, he saw Kai shaking Yeonjun awake. Beomgyu was assisting by flicking water onto the older member. Yeonjun groaned a little as he woke up and wiped the water off his face. “Mhmm, What time is it?” He asked as he slowly sat up, not yet registering that he was back at the dorm.

“It’s seven at night hyung.” Kai responded ast he took the glass of water from Beomgyu and handed it to Yeonjun. Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “When did we get back?” He asked as he took a couple of sips.

“We got back a few minutes ago. You were basically a walking zombie for the past hour, so I talked management into letting us out early. By the way, you have a fever, so you’re probably not going to feel good for a couple of days.” Yeonjun hummed in response just as Taehyun walked in the room holding a bowl of rice.

“Hyung, eat this, then you can take a fever reducer. Although your fever isn’t that high to begin with. We all thought it was higher based on how you’ve been acting.” Yeonjun nodded as he accepted the bowl of rice.

“Yeah, my body’s never reacted to fevers super well. It honestly didn’t occur to me that I might be sick. I just thought that I might have overdone it or something and that was why I was so tired today.” Silence fell over the group as Yeonjun somewhat lethargically ate his meager dinner. He then took the fever reducer and was once again looking like he was ready for bed.

“Come on hyung, let’s get you changed into some more comfortable clothing then you can sleep for the night.” Yeonjun nodded and stood up, stumbling slightly as he was already half asleep. Beomgyu and Taehyun helped support their sick hyung as they walked him to his room and helped him get dressed. Yeonjun was fast asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.

A couple hours later, the healthy members were in the very beginning stages of getting ready for bed, when Yeonjun came out of his room looking much more alert than he had previously.

“Hey hyung,” Taehyun greeted. “Are you up to get something or are you awake because you’ve practically spent the entire day sleeping and the medicine’s kicked in so you don’t currently have a fever?”

“Second one. I think I’ll hang out out here for a bit before trying to go back to sleep.” Yeonjun replied as he sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv.” Taehyun nodded then sat down next to Yeonjun.

I don’t have any schedules tomorrow, so I’ll stay up a bit longer and keep you company.” It wasn’t long for the other three members to catch wind of what was going on and collectively decided to have a sleepover in the living room. Yeonjun at first, was concerned that an impromptu sleepover would mess up the others’ ability to properly perform at their own schedules. Soobin laughed a bit mischievously at the concern.

“First off hyung, since you have a fever, you’re not leaving here until you’re better. You only have a slight fever and you can barely stay awake. Secondly, if we’re that tired tomorrow, who’s to say we didn’t get sick too?” Beomgyu cheered at the statement and got the others riled up at the prospect of faking sick for a couple of days to play hookie while they kept their sick member company until he was fully recovered.

#sickfic #txt #tomorrow x together

[rissynicole]

🥺😅🤡✨💖⛔🤩🎶🧐💞🧠(anybody you want to reveal ur headcanons about idc)🤯🤲✅💥💔 and I have a feeling you do but I’ll go ahead and ask 🍷

Holy shit, Paige 🤣 jfdlsalfsjsfajlk

Okay! *Breaks fingers* Let's do this. Some answers are gonna be kind of short!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Honestly, I’m not sure? I do tend to gravitate towards certain themes. I love writing sickfics, hurt/comfort, whump, etc. There’s something about two people putting aside everything to help each other that just gets me right in the feels. 

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Okay. Alright. Sit down motherfuckers. I'm gonna tell you a quick story.

Fun fact about me: I like to include names of my loved ones as minor/throwaway characters in my writing. For example, I need a name for some random cashier or whatever, so I name him after a friend. Y'know, as a shoutout to that friend.

Well. In A Parade of Indignities, there's a scene where Dib is reminiscing over his mother's grave. He has no mother in canon, so I had to invent a character and give her a first name.

I named her after my mother.

It wasn't meant to be anything other than a little shoutout to my very sweet mom. I had no experience with parent death and didn't see this detail as anything but an easter egg.

Well, less than a year later, I did get experience with a parent dying. Really suddenly dying.

I read back through Parade some months later and got to that part. Words cannot express the emotions that went through me. Really, I can't even say what those emotions were. Shame for writing something so serious in the first place without really knowing the fallout of losing a parent? Embarrassment for adding such a dark "easter egg"? All I can say is that I immediately slammed that "edit" button and changed the name of Dib's dead mother to a different, more generic name with no personal connections to me.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Answered in another ask.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Rissy, you are good at writing characters’ thoughts and feelings through their body language.

💖 What made you start writing?

My mom and dad! They were/are amazing writers and always encouraged me.

My second grade teacher also ignited my enthusiasm for writing. I remember her calling me to her desk multiple times just to tell me how wonderful and descriptive my little stories and book reports were. She even invited my parents in one time to teach the class about writing. 

I was incredibly lucky to have people in my life at that young age who could nurture my interests. It kept me going and I improved as a writer because of it. I credit my continued improvement to the people who have been in my corner to support me.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Answered in another ask.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Dib and Gaz are actually really fun to write! They let me get as angsty and sarcastic as I want! 😂

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yup! I'm always listening to music. Usually when I'm writing, I listen to music without lyrics, though. Stuff like lo-fi or deep house. Sometimes smooth jazz.

As for a song I've been playing on loop, probably this one:

https://open.spotify.com/track/6VGnKsXhFekwBOAnIY8cFM?si=9b7a71d063c9497b

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Yeah! I spend a lot of time researching, actually. I research really obscure things and get frustrated when I can’t find answers. I also tend to go down really useless rabbit holes lol.

💞 Who's your comfort character?

Oh, definitely Zim. 

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Professor Membrane gets so over-the-top concerned for his children when they’re sick, he goes overboard with tests and remedies. Think “Gaz, Taster or Pork,” but for everything Dib and Gaz become afflicted with. Common colds, hay fever, food poisoning, etc. It gets to the point where Dib and Gaz don’t tell him when they’re sick and simply take care of each other while keeping the illness on the down-low. 

I’m actually writing a little fic based around this headcanon and how it puts a strain on their family. 

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Definitely romance.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Sure! Here’s a snippet from something I’m almost done with: 

Dib quietly drifted to his bedside and stared down at him. “Zim…” He had to gather himself before he could repeat the same words he’d asked before. “Tell me who did this to you.”

The words hung in the air between them. Dib’s tone had taken on a quality that, coming from the mouth of any another person, would demand respect. Gone were the petulant, whiny inflections of his youth, and in their place was a certain poise that was easily reminiscent of his own father’s confident speech pattern. Unfortunately, what he had to say often overpowered how he said it. his attempts at persuasion scarcely had any effect on anyone in his life. They certainly never had any effect on Zim. This time, though, he hoped against hope that they would. 

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

A lot of characters in my fics fall asleep at the drop of a hat in my fics. I find that it’s a good way to end a chapter, but it sure does happen a lot. It’s like an impulse thing to just write a character going to bed at the end of a long, eventful chapter. They get a little sleep. As a treat. 

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

If it's constructive and/or from a good friend, I welcome it. If it's from some rando and more along the lines of "you didn't write this character the way I personally see them," then I'll roll my eyes big time and delete it.

I’ll add, I LOVE constructive criticism for things that I might have gotten factually wrong. One time, back in 2018, a nurse DMed me and let me know that some of what occurred in Chapter 12 of Parade wasn’t super accurate to what an actual nurse or doctor would do. This person spent the next couple days helping me understand certain medical terminology and procedures, which was super helpful. I rewrote that section of the story, and was super happy knowing I wrote it as factually accurate as I could. 

I also love seeing typos pointed out! It’s hard to get everything, even with a beta reader. I guarantee that if you DM me with a typo, I will drop everything and log into AO3 to edit it. 

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

Of mine? God, I don’t know. Anything that involves super deep depression is gonna break my heart. I’m working on something right now that involves a character feeling trapped and hopeless. That’s hard to write when you’re not also writing a concrete happy ending to go along with it. 

🍷 Do you drink and write?

Oh hell yes.

#thanks paige! #this was fun #writer asks #rissy's asks #parent death cw #alcohol cw

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

!!my own tag and a thanks in the authors notes!! :D!! am beaming over my words being that encouraging!! you guys really are the sweetest... wow...

first off wanted to reply- my favorite in the series so far's gotta be "am I ready for love? or maybe just a best friend"! I love how the various conversations and introspections flow, love the glimpses we get there of hero's college life and friends, and him intentionally opening up to zoey at the end and receiving that support is SO lovingly written and soso important and cathartic. I also really like the 3rd and 5th chapters of "when sun shines again"- aubrey being hurt on hero's behalf and tearfully wanting for him to have a "hero" of his own and sunny and hero hanging out and the stretch at the end after leaving the coffee shop are very dear to me ("You're Hero. I think you can do anything." is SO GOOD.). those are the bits I've probably revisited the most, but "under the weather" earns a shout out too though for being the work I was introduced to this series through! I'd been hesitant on it for purely personal taste (romances aren't typically my scene, and I can have a hard time connecting to fandom OCs; so I wasn't sure if it'd be for me- again, purely on my end ^^;), but ultimately I really like hero and I'm a sucker for a good sickfic xD so I gave it a shot, and I'm really glad I did!!

I also wanted to say, if it's alright: loneliness is a topic deeply important to me, and hearing the theming and intentions in your approach to it is really cool. I really appreciate it not being as simple as a feeling that just goes away once you're around people and have a good conversation or two- hero's loneliness is self-inflicted and behavioral, and something the work actively seeks to have him face, little by little. hearing your plans longterm in how you aim to handle it and where you plan to go makes me all the more excited to see what you guys have cooking!! I wholeheartedly believe it's good and important to tell and explore the kind of story this whole project is, and I thank you heartily for doing so.

(gonna cut myself short here and circle back around to share my thoughts on chapter 7 when I've got more time, so best tidings til then!) -🩶

Awww hello 🩶 Anon-Friend! It is such a joy to see you in our inbox again. Thank you so much for your ask!! 💕

You are so sweet, and you're very welcome for the words of thanks in the author's note for the most recent chapter. (We hope you enjoyed the chapter & that it was a good one for your thank you). The encouragement really means so much to us. It's a bit like Aubrey's "Pep Talk" skill in Headspace. Just getting told "You Can Do It" and that someone is actually very excited to read what we write, is interested in our project, and thinks that it is a meaningful and important story to tell is incredibly motivating! At this point, we have such a clear vision of this story and these characters in our minds so there's less of that sense of urgency to actually write it down (because we already know what happens), so to be told by someone else, "Hey, I really love this and I'm invested and I want to know what happens too" is really a great inspiration and motivation to finally get it written and posted for other people who want to see it. So really, thank you so much again for sharing that and all of your thoughts with us! It means everything 💖

Thank you so much for sharing about your favorite parts of the project so far too! We've put most of the discussion of that under the cut because of OMORI spoilers and because this ask is, once again, very lengthy. Apologies in advance for all the ramblings. ^^

It means so much to hear that you deeply connected with "Am I Ready For Love? Or Maybe Just A Best Friend" especially because that was kind of our way of testing the waters and seeing if there was even an interest in a story like this.

We honestly would have had no hard feelings if it just wasn't anyone's cup of tea. It's kind of funny, the personal preferences in fics & genres that you mentioned in your ask are very similar to mine (Acacia's). I have been writing fanfiction for over a decade (though was only was brave enough to start posting it a couple years ago), but I think I have written Canon Character x OC only 2 times ever and never, ever when there was an existing pairing. I also usually don't write romance at all. It's just generally not my thing and I generally prefer the platonic relationships between characters, but just like you said, ultimately, I love Hero and telling this story about his life after the good ending and giving him the chance to heal and to be happy and to open himself up to love again (if that's what he wants) was so important to me that I decided to give it a try even though it often feels I'm probably not the best person for the task. 😅

I think that's one of the big reasons why "When Sun Shines Again" is so broad in scope and is about so much more than just the (eventual) romance plotline. I mean we are over 54,000 words into this story and they haven't even met yet which I do feel guilty about but honestly it's because this story isn't just about that. It's about Hero making peace with his grief and learning how to build a new life for himself around it. The things that he has been through in his life are not things that he'll ever completely get over, but he can learn to get past them and can learn to be happy again. His life won't be the same as it was when Mari was alive, but that doesn't mean it can't be happy and can't be meaningful.

Again, we are both such passionate HeroMari shippers and we do sincerely hope that our series, even if it does involve Hero eventually finding love again, still reflects the reverence, respect, and love that we have for that relationship and how much we also wish that they had gotten their "forever." The last thing we would ever want to do is to try to erase or replace Mari, and I think that was one of the big inspirations for the "Am I Ready For Love..." story.

When I was first trying to imagine who is this person that Hero might open his heart to again, this scene--where he opens up to her about Mari--was the scene I could see vividly in my mind. I just kept going back to this idea of him being vulnerable with her and trusting her enough to tell her about Mari, back before it's even "relevant" since they're not dating (and that's not even on the radar). They're just friends, so she doesn't even really have to know (technically), but (like you so aptly said in your ask), he "intentionally open[s] up to her" because she sees him. She sees how lonely he is and how much he's hurting. And ultimately he shares this deeply personal pain with her, even though he doesn't know how she's going to react, and (l think it's addressed in multiple different side stories but) he is so moved and just awed by the fact that she cares about him so much that she cries.

It hasn't come up yet but will be established in "When Sun Shines Again" that Zoey is not a crier. Kyle has a line a couple of chapters from now about how he has only seen her cry one time (and "it was awful" and he "never want[s] to see that again") so this is kind of a big thing for her as a character. But even beyond that, to be shown such empathy and such support, means everything to Hero regardless of whether this person never cries or cries all the time. He has finally shared this very vulnerable part of himself that he never opens up about because he's so worried about hurting someone, and she cries--not because she's hurt or broken for her own sake but because her heart aches for him and his suffering. When she tells him that she wishes he had gotten his forever with Mari, she means it, even though she knows that might mean they would never meet, would never become friends. His happiness is more important to her than even that.

And to us, that's real love--in a platonic sense here, of course, but that qualifier really shouldn't matter. The fact that he's not even dating her at this point was intentional. It's platonic between them, but she still loves him this much and she shows him the support that Hero has so desperately wanted but never really allowed himself to have. Even if nothing romantic ever developed between them, Hero finding a friend in her and opening himself up and allowing himself to be vulnerable and ultimately finding that support and that comfort is so important. If anything it's more important than the idea of him finding "romantic love" again.

As much time & effort as we have devoted to this universe in which Hero loves romantically again, neither one of us are convinced that he needs a romantic relationship to be happy. It's very possible he will never even want one, and that's okay. But everyone wants and needs to be loved. And we are convinced that Hero will need friends, will need family, will need to open his heart to someone in some way (even a platonic one) in order to ever be happy again.

We named that fic after these really poignant lines from AJR's song "Turning Out" (YouTube; Spotify link in song title):

Am I ready for love? Or maybe just a best friend Should there be a difference Do you have instructions?

And we chose this because one of the big themes in this story and at this point in Hero's life, is that it doesn't really matter if he's ready for romantic love or just having a best friend again. What matters is that he opens himself up to love again in general. He closed off his heart when Mari died, not just to romance but to the love of his friends and family too, and it left him lonely. It's amazing how you addressed that in your ask as well and it means a lot to hear that you are really compelled by how we're handling that in the series so far too. Loneliness is a deeply painful experience because deep down everyone wants to be loved for who they really are and for their own sake. Hero cutting himself off from that has just left stagnant in misery, and we absolutely agree with you that a lot of this is self-inflicted and will not have an easy or quick fix but will be an ongoing process of healing and slowly opening his heart again. We hope we'll be able to do justice to that journey in our story because we truly believe that the only way for him to really break free from that kind of suffering is to allow himself to be vulnerable again.

And this means, to be vulnerable with anyone who loves him. When what matters is that Hero allows himself to be comforted, to be cared for, to be cried for, and to be loved again, there really shouldn't be a qualifier on that kind of love (i.e. romantic or platonic). In this case, there really shouldn't be a difference.

There are really no words to describe how much it means to us to hear you describe that scene as "SO lovingly written and so so important and cathartic." That was absolutely 100% what we were going for and what I really tried convey when I was writing it so it is so encouraging to hear that we succeeded in that.

We're also thrilled to hear that you enjoyed the Aubrey and Sunny chapters as well. Aubrey is my favorite character beside Hero and Sunny is Sprinkles' favorite, so I think we really brought our A-game for those chapters especially. 😅 In a lot of ways, those are kind of unexplored and underrated friendships so it was really nice to get to the opportunity to really give each of those the spotlight, and I'm honestly squealing a little at the specific lines and moments that you've chosen as especially meaningful to you. I actually cried real tears when I wrote that scene between Aubrey and Hero where she kind of breaks down and begs him to find someone to open up to and rely on because he's always been that person for her. I think it really sets the scene for what the rest of this story (particularly in this college portion) is really about.

That line from Sunny is one of my favorites in the series so far as well. We were really struggling a lot with how to end that Sunny chapter when I suddenly had this spark of inspiration of ending with this scene where Hero expresses this sort of uncertainty about his future and I could just hear that line from Sunny reassuring him that "You're Hero. I think you can do anything" and just kind rekindling that sense of purpose in him since he really has been so lost since Mari passed away.

Lastly, I'll admit I was a little surprised but very giddy to hear that it was actually "Under The Weather" that first got you interested in this series. That was an extremely self-indulgent fanfiction I wrote for my birthday, so I honestly wasn't really expecting anyone else to connect with it but I posted it anyway just in case (especially since like you mentioned, I think a lot of people enjoy sick fics). I've been so flattered and really blown away to hear that people have enjoyed that story and been moved by it. It's definitely one of my personal favorites, and it really means a lot to hear that not only is it dear to you too but also that it got you interested and invested in "When Sun Shines Again." 🥺

Thank you so much for sharing that with us and for sharing all of your lovely thoughts & feedback! We've really enjoyed getting to hear your very thoughtful takes and getting to have these discussions with you. Please take care, friend! 💙

#awww thank you so much for this ask #🩶 Anon-Friend #when sun shines again ⛅ #when sun shines again commentary #omori spoilers

[spacedykez]

ask game: 1, 8, 12, 13, 19, 25, 37, 41, 50, 59 and 79!

1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike? oh i daydream a ton. i usually only write things if i have been thinking about them for like HOURS and they have played themselves out in my head. and even when i get inspiration to write RIGHT NOW it's very very rarely on a New Idea, it's a thing i've been thinking about for weeks. also that's how i get through my day. i escape boredom by going "okay but what if [x]"

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip. not a snippet, okay. hm. Well, Branzy fucking dies. Again. Dw about it.

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them? god i wish. when i say outline i mean one of two things. either i've got a bullet point list of chapters that i will never actually write or i've got [placeholders] in between scenes i've written. if i outline the thing then it just doesn't flow as naturally, and besides half the time i think of a cooler idea while i'm writing.

13. Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently? Oh, definitely. Anything by TheFatRat, specifically Rule The World and Hiding In The Blue, and then Plagues, Something Wicked This Way Comes. my playlist the last few days that i've been looping is No Friends, switchblade, Fear And Delight, mr loverman, do it all the time, last of the real ones, and partners in crime.

19. Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters? Tbh? Really like fanfic. I don't think i'd ever write something original just because I really really love the characters already being known to my audience & having content to listen to/read to get characterization right and stay consistent.

25. What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)? I know this wasn't the question, but i DESPISE editing. just feel the need to say that. anyways, i love adding- i don't know what to call it. Detail? Comparison? It's not metaphor/simile, it's not exactly description, and it's not symbolism. here's what it is i don't know what to call it:

"the white of Branzy’s shirt buttons, styled into tiny clubs (the symbol of reckless youth, like their wild love and the passion that came with it)"

"one heart less than he had been before (and one heart in his chest that he would never fully get back)"

"Clown swallowed down the taste of salt, an emotional mask joining his physical one in a doomed attempt to maintain his deadly exterior."

Like- what is that?! I know it's SOMETHING and i swear it's gotta have a name. Right? That's gotta be a thing that I'm forgetting.

It's just adding those little bits. That's my favorite part. I love coming up with those sort of things.

37. What fic has been the hardest for you to write? Uh- If it was too hard it never got written/posted so. Honestly, probably the fic I'm working on right now. Not the timeloop one. It's a hurt/comfort sickfic but I'm struggling to write the comfort part because I don't want them to kiss but it doesn't make a lot of sense to not have them kiss. I'd just say not one fic in specific but really having a hard time with writing kissing. Any allos reading this /gen was the kiss I wrote in My Life In Your Hands decent at all.

41. Who’s your favorite character you’ve written? okay i know this is character but i'd say there are three types: slightly-maybe-evil smug gremlin (mbm!pearl, vampire!scott), anxious wreck with dry, sarcastic internal monologue aka Self Projection Central (o!scott, branzy), and cocky villains. I just love villains in general so much they're so fun to write.

50. How would you describe your writing style? a mashup of the fantasy books i read when i was younger with a ton of little quirks and things i've picked up from reading other fanfic. to be Completely Honest juno was definitely one of them. this is why i freaked out when xe interacted with me cause it's like your celebrity idol interacting with you. yeah no ngl juno was like basically my idol for a while.

59. Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges?  If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them? oh. heh heh. nervous laughter. well yes actually. i am in hermitgao3ng but i havent WRITTEN anything and i'm getting very embarrassed about that. nervous. and then there's the Writer's Block Bingo which you've probably noticed me doing. it's both stressful and good for me. because it's given me good prompt ideas but also it's a lot of writing. despite them Literally Saying you do not have to write something for every round my idiot brain goes "I NEED TO WRITE THESE OR I WILL BE KILLED." don't worry it's good for me really cause it's a deadline that other people are expecting from me (nobody's expecting anything from me but don't tell my brain that or the rsd-fuelled motivation streak i'm on will die). it's getting me to write though. and i really need to do that hermitgao3ng fic-

79. Do you have any writing advice you want to share? -write what YOU want to write. you wanna write fifteen fics with the same trope and the same pairing? you go for it. literally do what you want. -find a friend. not a writing friend. no. i mean find one (1) friend (or more!) that will scream about your writing to you. your fic will not get the attention it deserves on tumblr no matter how good it is (cough REBLOG FICS cough) and looking at hits on ao3 will only ever discourage you so find somebody that'll scream about your writing and write for yourself and them. i promise it works (nix and juke i love you so much /p). -don't compare yourself to popular writers (phrases to staple to my forehead i am guilty of this). i assure you you Do Not get popular overnight. it Does Not Happen. they have 100% had way more experience than you. on that note: -learn from other writers. the best way to be a better writer is read! read and take note- how do they do [x]? how do they do [y]? that's how i got myself writing more description. that's how my dialogue went from:

"Mumbo!" Grian screamed. to

"Mumbo!" Grian screamed, dashing up to the edge of the cliff and staring down into the dark forest in despair. He couldn't lose his best friend, the man who'd been his closest companion for years through all their hardships and joys.

that wasn't a fic snippet btw lol /gen just picked a bit of dialogue to expand on. look at that right there. look at what i did and see "okay, so how do i apply this to my writing?" that's how i got here. -writing is a skill just like art (reblogfuckingFICS-). you will not be amazing right away. you will reread your past fics and cringe. but do not let that stop you. you need to write the cringe fics to see what works and what doesn't. my old fics are awful. they're a bunch of tropes written absolutely awfully. but i wouldn't be the writer i am today without writing. you've gotta write to get better at writing! so go for it! don't worry about people disliking what you're doing. writing advice tl;dr - write what you want, for yourself, don't be discouraged at failure, watch what the popular writers are doing and see if you can do that, and above all Keep Writing Your Way

#asks #nix tag #well that got long :wince:

[fluffyllamas-23]

Maybe one day I’ll write something other than with Lucy, Sean and Mason, but today is not that day, I’m sorry. This is part two to this fic I wrote

Fic is below the cut!

Sean hates this. He hates waiting for her to wake up, because he just wants to be with her and reassure her that everything will be okay.

She had been so anxious this morning when he took her to the surgical center, and he can’t get how terrified she looked out of his head.

He bounces his leg nervously, waiting for the okay that he can go back to the recovery area and see her. The doctor who performed her surgery had assured him that everything went perfectly, but the nurse warned him that she needed a few minutes, because she was in pain and the anesthesia was making her sick.

So...he has to wait.

Finally, he gets the all-clear to go see her, and he follows close behind the nurse.

“Luce?” He asks softly, walking over to where she’s laying, half awake and looking entirely too out of it for his liking. “Hi, honey.”

She reaches out for him with grabby hands, and he strokes her cheek with a chuckle.

“You’re here...thought you left.”

“Of course I’m here. How are you doing? I heard you weren’t feeling very well.”

She shakes her head, “mnh-mnh...hurts.”

“Knee?”

Stupid question, Sean, he thinks to himself, of course it’s her knee. She just had surgery, you idiot.

“Everything...skin hurts, too,” she slurs, blinking heavily.  

“Skin?”

“Nerves...they feel like…prickle prickle,” she blinks heavily, “I, um…I wanna go home.”

“You’re in luck,” her nurse says, walking over to her with a wheelchair.  “The doctor says you can leave.  Remember you’re not allowed to put any weight on it for two weeks.

“Lucy, go lie down,” Sean says, annoyance lacing his tone.  “You had surgery three hours ago, why won’t you just rest?”

“I can’t DO anything.  I’m so bored, I hate this,” she whines, wobbling on her crutches. “I was supposed to work tonight, but I can’t...unless-”

“Lucy. No. Absolutely not.”

“I knew that wouldn’t fly,” she grumbles.

She’s still a little out of it from all of the pain meds, which is making her unsteady on her one good foot.  Luckily, Sean is right next to her, because one minute she’s standing straight up, and the next she’s pitching forward.  

“Shit!” Sean hisses, catching her before she can completely fall on her face. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?”

“M’fine,” she mumbles as he steadies her.

“Go. Lie. Down,” he snaps angrily. 

“Why are you getting mad?!”

“Damn it, Lucy,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes, “because you’re going to hurt yourself even more! Go lie down before you fall and break something.”  

She sighs in frustration, “fine.”

He groans and buries his face in his hands, “sorry...sorry, I shouldn’t get mad at you...just...you’re going to make me have an aneurysm, or stroke, or something...can you please just lie down? You need to rest and let yourself heal.”

“Okay.”

Sean sighs in relief, rubbing his forehead, “Mason is coming over, let’s watch a movie or something.”

“Uh...o-okay,” she nods, face paling as she lowers herself onto the couch.  

He frowns, helping her to prop her leg back up, “Luce? You okay?”

“I think I overdid it,” she mumbles.

“Does it hurt? Did hurt yourself when you almost fell?”

“No...I just...I don’t feel very well.”

“What do you mean? Are you going to be sick?”

She shakes her head, “no...I just...I’m kinda dizzy.”

He frowns, pressing a hand to her forehead, “well you don’t have a fever, thank God.”

“I didn’t think so...I think I just-“

“-overdid it.  Yeah, I think so too,” he frowns, “now will you rest?”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles.

“Good.”

*

It’s been a rough couple of days, and when Sean wakes up three days after her surgery, he’s hoping that she’ll be in less pain.  He walks out of the bedroom and into the living room cautiously.

She’s still fast asleep at ten in the morning, with no indication that she’s going to be up anytime soon. Concern gnaws at the pit of his stomach, and he crouches in front of her.

“Hey, Lucy?” He asks, putting a hand on her cheek.

She wakes after a few moments and groans weakly, rubbing her forehead.

“My head, holy shit,” she moans, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Are you alright?”

“Everything hurts.”

“You have a fever,” he says, moving his hand so he can feel her temple, and then forehead.

“Oh.”

“Is there anything else bothering you? Throat? Stomach?”

“Throat hurts a little.”

He eyes her skeptically, “just a little?”

“Okay a lot.”

“Thought so…want some tea?”

She makes a face, “I hate tea.”

“Hot chocolate?”

She sniffles, rubbing at her eyes sleepily, “yeah, okay.”

Sean nods and walks into the kitchen to rummage through her cabinets.

“Hey, hey!” Mason cries happily, walking into her apartment.

She groans and presses a pillow to her face.

“Mason, shut up or you’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

“Lucy has a headache. Don’t be loud.”

Mason grimaces, “sorry. You okay?”

She sniffles, pulling the pillow down to shoot him a dirty look, “no.”

“Shit, are you sick?”

She nods with an annoyed grunt. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t injured, but now she feels an overwhelming sense of frustration because she can’t do anything.

“Awww, what’s wrong?” He pouts, sitting next to her.

“Nope. No, no, no, no. Get away from her,” Sean says, walking back over to the couch. He hands her four pills and a bottle of water and then looks at Mason.

“What? Why?!” Mason whines.

“She’s sick.”

“Yeah, I know. And she just had surgery and needs all the cuddles.”

“I know, but then you’ll get sick, and you’re the most obnoxious person when you don’t feel well.”

“I take offense to that.”

“It doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I-okay that’s valid but duuuude. I want to cuddle why are you being mean?”

“I believe he just said his reasoning,” she rasps, a scowl crossing her face.

Sean frowns and presses a hand to her cheek, “you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, batting his hand away. “Can I have the hot chocolate?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry.”

“Someone’s grumpy,” Mason grins.

“Shut up.”

“Aww, come on, Lucy-”

“I swear to God I will end you.”

“Sheesh.”

“Mason, just leave me alone,” she moans, squeezing her eyes shut.  “Please.”

“Sorry, sorry.  Are you alright?” He asks softly, with so much concern that she finds herself getting choked up.

Her eyes fill with tears, “I just...I don’t feel well.”

Mason nods and stands up, “I know...uh, just hold on.”

He walks over to Sean, who’s still rummaging through her cabinets, looking for the hot chocolate when Mason pokes his back.

“What’s up?”

“Sean, she’s crying.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Perfect.”

“What? You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

He chuckles, “I don’t mean that she’s crying.  I’m shit at cooking, could you make the hot chocolate-”

“Hey, dumbass, you don’t cook hot chocolate.  You literally heat up milk or water and pour it in, it’s not hard.”

“Fuck you, asshole. You know what I mean.  Can you make her the hot chocolate so I can go see what’s up?”

“Yeah, sure…go…tend to your lady or whatever."

Sean walks over to her, frown on his face, “Luce? You alright?”

She sniffles, wiping her eyes with a teary chuckle, “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Because you have a fever, probably,” he says, sitting next to her.  She adjusts her position so that she’s slumped against him.  “Your leg.  Hold on, let me up.”

“No,” she moans weakly, swallowing a coughing fit.  

“You had surgery three days ago, it needs to be elevated.

*

“Sean,” she croaks weakly against his chest, rubbing at her throat with a grimace.

When he doesn’t answer, she smacks his stomach and he inhales sharply. He looks around blearily, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Oh, hey. You okay? What time is it?”

“Dunno…can’t sleep...throat hurts.”

“You sound horrible.”

“I feel worse than I sound,” she sniffles, coughing lightly.

He grimaces, “shit.  I’m going to grab you some medicine, are you good?”

She shrugs sleepily, aiming a cough into her shoulder.  

“You’re shivering,” he frowns, pressing a hand to her forehead.  His frown deepens, “and you’re hot.”

“Can I have a blanket?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

“No blanket,” Mason mumbles sleepily from next to her.  He sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“If you’re not going to offer anything constructive, you can leave,” Lucy gripes, pressing herself closer to him in an attempt to steal his body heat.

“She likes me more than you,” Mason smirks at Sean.

“No,” Lucy croaks, sniffling miserably, “you’re warm.”

“Why can’t she have a blanket?” Sean asks, walking into the kitchen.

“My mom never let me bundle up when I would get fevers...she said it makes body temperature rise...or something.  I don’t know, I just know it’s bad.”

“Get out,” Lucy spits angrily, but all malice is lost behind her hoarse and congested voice.  She sounds so weak and sick, Sean’s stomach clenches.  

Mason frowns and looks over at Sean, “she sounds like shit.”

“‘She’ is right here,” Lucy grumbles.

Mason looks down at her, “you sound like shit.”

“Wow thanks for your astute observation,” she slurs, blinking heavily.

“I’m giving you NyQuil.  You need to get some sleep,” Sean says, walking back over to her.  

“Come lie back down,” Lucy mumbles.

“No,” Mason whines, poking out his bottom lip when Sean resumes his place and Lucy cuddles up to him instead.  “Come back, I wanna snuggle.”

“Shit, man.  You need a girlfriend…or a boyfriend or something,” Sean mumbles, eyelids already drooping.

“Well yeah, that’s obvious,” Mason says, rolling his eyes as he slumps back into the cushions. “Ugh, your couch sucks for more than one person to sleep on. Can I crash in your bed?”

Lucy nods, feeling herself drift to sleep, “knock yourself out.”

“Night, guys,” Mason mutters, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck.

Lucy is vaguely aware of Sean saying something to Mason, and then, she’s asleep.

#sickfic #Lucy and Sean #and mason #injury!fic #fever #congestion #honestly this wasn't as much of a sickfic as I wanted it to be #I'm really sorry for any spelling errors #i've been trying to write this for what feels like forever

[twiceasfrustrating]

Returning the Favor

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationship: Main Character/Lucifer

Characters: Lucifer, Main Character

Additional Tags: sick fic, fluff, GN!MC (you/your)

Summary: Lucifer has come down with something and it has only gotten worse as he continues to push himself without any rest. It's time to put your foot down, make him some soup, and chase that nasty bug away... even if he doesn't want you to.

Request: "i just saw that your requests are open, could you write something where mc has to take care of the brothers because they came down with the demonic flu? asmo's new card has me all soft and there aren't many sickfics in the fandom, if you can't write about all of them maybe do just lucifer and levi i can totally see both of them refusing help but for different reasons tho obviously (lucifer acts like it's nothing until he passes out and levi is too shy to tell mc that he needs her even though they're together)"

A/N: I was thinking a little something for each of them, but then it became "oops, all Lucifer" Honestly... I cannot resist the gap moe of a Lucifer that needs help but refuses.

Word Count: 2130

"But it's our date night," you whine, kneeling in front of Lucifer's desk and staring at him with the largest puppy dog eyes you can muster.

They appear to be ineffective, however, as he glances at you for only a moment before returning to looking over a poorly laid out spreadsheet, "I'll make it up to you another night, but this matter is pressing. If I don't have it done in the next five days it will complicate everything, if not completely set back and/or negate a major project." And it would be an affront to the very pride that he embodied if he allowed that to happen.

"Get Diavolo to do it!" You continue to protest. Lucifer raises a brow in warning toward you. You groan before correcting yourself, "Get Lord Diavolo to do it. He can take over for one night, can't he?"

His pen moves furiously, checking a few boxes before signing something, "He entrusted this to me, so it is my job to take care of it." Also, the entire reason this paperwork was running behind was because the prince had continued to put it off until the last moment. Lucifer had thought Barbatos had that aspect of Diavolo under control, but, apparently, it was still hit or miss.

A sigh escapes your lips and you stand yourself up, heading for the door of his office, "Yeah, sure. I better go make you some coffee if you're going to pull an all-nighter again." It looked like date night was going to be you sitting in the room doing homework while he helped run a kingdom.

A small smile crosses his face as he continues to look down and work, "I would appreciate it."

~~~

The next morning, Lucifer was the first one down to the table. A cup of coffee was already in his hand as he clearly pushed himself through yet another pile of papers. Just how much work did Diavolo saddle him with? Granted, it wasn't unusual for him to stay up all night to finish his work even when he wasn't on a time crunch, but he looked even more exhausted than usual.

"You look terrible," you say, pulling out a chair and taking a seat next to him.

"Mhm," he was to tired to respond with anything more.

"I think you're allowed to take naps every now and again."

"I need all the time I can get to finish this." There was so much minor minutiae in the paperwork that he had to make sure he read over it carefully, which was slowing him down more than he cared for.

You sigh, "Just be careful. I don't like the thought of you putting all your energy into one task without taking care of yourself properly."

"I will be fine." He insisted.

~~~

Lucifer was going on day three without any sleep and no proper meal. He didn't feel like himself as he walked between his office and his bedroom. He had to get something, but his mind kept losing track of what it was...

He leaned against the hallway wall, cradling his head and just barely holding himself up. Something was very wrong and he knew it, but he couldn't slow down. There was just too much to do. He dragged himself down the hallway, watching as it spun around him until everything went all black...

~~~

Lucifer woke up in a daze. Everything felt gross and sticky and uncomfortable around him and he could barely open his eyes properly. Something rushed through his veins like frozen water and put him on edge, snapping him back and forth between his forms against his will. Whatever was happening to him, he was losing control of himself. He tried to concentrate properly, focusing on maintaining his human form rather than letting whatever was happening to him take control.

You tsk off to his side, which draws his attention immediately, "I was told that may happen and that you shouldn't be fighting it." Something about his body trying to go back to his demon form to more easily heal itself. It made sense, even if you didn't quite get it.

"When did I fall asleep?" When did he even get to his room?

"Not one hundred percent sure. It really freaked me out when I found you passed out like that so I didn't exactly investigate." Your fingers twiddled away at the hard outer skin of this strange fruit that was supposedly good for sick demons, "Beel is the only one that knows since he had to help me move you in here. Don't worry. I know better than to let the others know when you're at anything less than your absolute best." Because they wouldn't feel sympathy for their oldest brother. If anything, they would try and take advantage of the situation and you had zero tolerance for those kinds of antics right now. At least Beel was reliable or else you were sure you'd still be dragging Lucifer down the hallway.

"I see." He tried to sit up but immediately felt his head swimming. He tried to lean on his arm to keep him stable, but you saw through him without an issue. He was just barely holding himself together, as much as he tried to hide it, "Would you bring me the things from my office?"

"Nope." You don't even have to think before telling him, "I refuse to encourage your bad habits. You've been living on coffee for the last few nights and have had almost no sleep. I'm surprised the only thing you have is the flu and not some weird other demon thing that would be harder to care for." You finish peeling the bumpy green fruit in your hand and hold out one of the sections to him, "Open."

"I'm not allowing you to feed me like a child."

"Good thing I'm feeding you like my boyfriend then." You shove the slice of fruit toward him again, refusing to accept his stubborn pride at the moment.

He looks at you in disbelief, unsure if you are really trying to test him or not right now. He is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom -- right-hand to the prince himself -- and here you are trying to feed him as if doing so was perfectly normal.

You sigh in exasperation at his continued refusal, "I'm trying to be nice, Lucifer, but I will invoke our pact if I have to." Now that would really injure his pride.

Begrudgingly, he took the slice of fruit from your hand, "I am still not allowing you to feed me." As such, he would eat it of his own accord.

"As long as you're consuming something other than coffee, I'm not going to argue." Although it was mildly disappointing that he wouldn't allow you to this one thing. It would be so nice to see him be vulnerable for once and let you take care of him, but he was already ill and relying on you so some things were forgivable.

You stand from the edge of his bed and hand him the rest of the fruit, "Now be good and get some rest. I'll be right back with some medicine." Namely the stuff you'd started brewing when he first passed out. It was supposed to simmer for an hour and the timer was about to go off. You began to head for his door before remembering one last thing you had to tell him, "Oh, right. No more work. I haven't told Diavolo or Barbatos anything yet, but I will spill everything if I even suspect you're thinking of work." And that was a threat he should take seriously. Whether he believed you or not was an entirely different matter altogether.

The thing was, he did believe you. He knew that you would hold to that threat and it was not one he cared to see though. However, he also had to finish the last of his work and the thought of letting down Diavolo was equally frustrating.

He looked down at the fruit in his hand and groaned somewhere in the back of his mind as he set it off to the side. Maybe if you took long enough he could figure out a way around your threat that would allow him to see the last of his work finished. Or, maybe he would at least figure out a way to stop his forms from shifting however they willed.

~~~

"You're staying home today." You push on Lucifer's chest to coax him back into the bed, but even in his weakened state, you aren't strong enough to push him down.

"I will be fine."

"Bullshit you will. Sit." You can almost feel his murderous intent as he finally gets back in the bed, "You are on house arrest. That is not negotiable."

"And what am I supposed to do all day then? Since you have so lovingly disallowed me to do my job."

You shrugged, "Sleep. Relax. Check Devilgram. Literally anything except stressing yourself out. I'll check on you when I get home." You kissed his forehead, which he tolerated despite his feelings towards you treating him as if he needed so much assistance.

As soon as you were out the door, he flopped back onto his pillows and stared at his ceiling. A day without work or anything to do felt like it would take far too long.

~~~

He was pouting when you came into his room. At least, you think it was pouting. He was definitely trying to look stoic and unaffected, but he was clearly just barely holding himself together. He'd finally stopped fighting against his demon form by the looks of it, at least, so he should be healing just fine.

"I'm back." You sauntered over and took your place at the edge of his bed, dropping your backpack near your feet "How are you feeling?"

"If I said I was perfectly fine-"

"That would be a lie and I know it." You gently tapped against his horns to let him know he was clearly not fine, "So be honest. What did you do all day?"

There was silence as he refused to answer.

"So slept, got it." If he was being so stubborn, that meant he had been unproductive by Lucifer standards.

"You've apparently forbad me from doing much else."

"I'm amazed you actually followed those directions." Not that he had a lot of say in the matter. You were holding his reputation hostage. You reached into your backpack, pulling out a pile of papers and flipping to the final page. You pointed to the last line, "Sign here."

"Hm?" He raised a single brow, looking closely at what you were now holding out to him. It was clearly the paperwork he'd been trying to finish up and it was almost entirely filled out with the exception of a missing signature here and there, but it was nothing that he couldn't complete in less than ten minutes (even in his current state), "How did-"

"I've watched you fill out enough of these things to get the gist of it." Though you didn't want to admit how many times you had to reread the same lines over and over to make sure you weren't agreeing to something insane. Also, that you now sympathized with his constant lack of sleep. If he hadn't already done so much of it before he fell ill, there is no way you would have been able to complete it for him on time, "Now will you finally take care of yourself instead of worrying about work?"

He still couldn't believe it. He had to flip through the entire stack and look it over quickly to make sure everything was really done correctly. It was near impeccable, almost meeting his standards aside from some minor stray marks that didn't actually matter. He was almost insulted that he had left so much work in your hands, but he would be lying if he pretended he wasn't touched by your efforts. How could he put down all the time and hard work you must have put into this?

With a sigh, he bit his finger and smeared a drop of blood on the final line. It spread over the page until it took the form of his name in demon tongue, "Satisfied?"

You give him a beaming smile, "Very. Now, if you want to get better faster then lie back and let your personal doctor take care of you."

Fine. After the work you'd put in for him he wasn't one to refuse your kindness. Maybe if he listened, he would get better faster and get to make up for that date night of yours he'd missed...

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me main character #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #fluff #obey me shall we date #mine