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aeor-is-for-reccing · 9 months

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Near Death Experiences: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have fifteen fics that have to deal with Caleb and Essek nearly (or temporarily) dying under the cut! Lots of hurt/comfort in this one. As ever, if you like them, don't forget to Kudos or comment!

Of Broken Plans and Places to Be by ThreeGremlinsInATrenchcoat (8856, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek catches a fatal disease in Aeor designed to resist clerical healing. Caleb must take care of him while the rest of the Mighty Nein race to find a cure.

Reccer says: Another excellent sick fic, this time with Essek as the patient.

The Mind and the Malady by SaltCore (38941, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, some body horror in the form of coughing up bloody flowers

Hanahaki fic where Essek falls so hopelessly in love with Caleb post-97 that it's literally killing him. He could cure himself, but the price (reverting back to the man he was prior to meeting Caleb) is one that Essek would rather die than pay. That he could be cured by Caleb ever loving him back is, of course, a laughable notion.

Reccer says: A beautifully written example of not-actually-one-sided pining, with literal life or death stakes. I don't normally care for hanahaki fics, but I reread this one often.

Zedrinset by LuckyOwlsFoot (4599, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek is kidnapped by a monster that promises a fate worse than death. Caleb risks everything to save him, and Essek is powerless to do anything but watch

Reccer says: Another good execution of a relatively simple premise. Caleb goes absolutely feral in Essek's defense in a very sexy way

Tomb of Rust by LuckyOwlsFoot (23682, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Caleb and Essek go through the wringer in Aeor, stumbling from near-death-experience to near-death-experience

Reccer says: Caleb and Essek go through the *wringer* in this one, with lots of wonderful tender comfort at the end

A Fire Frozen in Ice by Professor_Rye (5755, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb catches a deadly disease that's slowly freezing him to death, Essek struggles to keep him alive andfind a cure before it's too late

Reccer says: Very tasty sick fic with Essek as the caretaker

Contrapasso by SaltCore (4856, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Temporary character death and resurrection

Canon divergence AU where Essek is kidnapped and magically imprisoned by Ludinus as a hostage against the Mighty Nein. Essek has to let Caleb mercy kill him in order to escape

Reccer says: This fic was written for the Whumptober 2021 prompt "Trust Fall" which is a good description of what reading this fic feels like, emotionally.

bow shock by SaltCore (4613, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Caleb is very nearly murdered in his bed by a Trent loyalist, Essek saves him at the last moment.

Reccer says: A skillful execution (pun intended) of a very simple premise. Essek goes feral over Caleb's safety in the sexiest, sweetest way imaginable

heliopause by SaltCore (5035, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

A direct sequel and companion piece to bow shock, with the same basic premise, only this time Essek is the one in mortal danger and Caleb is the one who comes to his rescue

Reccer says: This one is great for all the same reasons bow shock is, I highly recommend reading them together

A Very Silent Night by Professor_Rye (7324, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Modern AU, Caleb and Essek get into a car accident in the middle of the night on a lonely mountain road in the middle of winter. Essek is badly hurt, and Caleb has to cuddle with him for warmth to make sure he survives the night

Reccer says: A simple but very well done fic where the two pining idiots in love have to share body heat to survive, with a thoughtful examination of fantasy racism on the side.

the only way out is through the ditch by SaltCore (6971, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Temporary character death and resurrection

Essek is caught in a deadly trap in Aeor, and Caleb can do nothing except watch him die a slow and painful death, praying that he will be able to revive him later. (aka: Wrath of Khan, Shadowgast edition)

Reccer says: Absolutely agonizing to read in the best way possible, with a wonderful catharsis at the end. Also one of the most creative (if gruesome) depictions of a transmutation wizard's version of raise dead that I've ever seen

infinity in the palm of your hand by mousecookie (5752, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Canon divergence for episode 116 where the M9 find Essek - seemingly dead - in an Aeorian corridor with the rest of the Kryn adventuring party. Tagged MCD because of how it's framed but also Temporary Character Death.

Reccer says: I liked it!

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome (17169, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Five times Essek woke up with level(s) of exhaustion and one time he didn't.

Reccer says: It's a classic 'Essek sacrifices himself nearly to death, then the Nein comfort him back to health' fic. Wonderful hurt comfort.

Sending for aid by TormentaPrudii (1449, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Cad receives a frantic Sending from Caleb and has to walk him through first-aid to stabilize Essek long enough to rest and Teleport to the Grove.

Reccer says: The outsider POV and only getting twenty-five word glimpses into the wizards’ situation really hammered the tension home in the best way

rumors of my demise by words-writ-in-starlight (6184, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Essek is arrested by the Dynasty and sentenced to death. He doesn't want his friends risking their lives in a rescue, so pretends like nothing is wrong. His friends turn out to have opinions about that.

Reccer says: Another Whumptober inspired fic where Essek gets to learn just how far his friends are willing to go for him. Features temporary character death and resurrection of that's your jam

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by CatgirlTheCrazy (14192, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek falls victim to an incubus, and it turns him on Caleb

Reccer says: Pitch perfect angst and drama as the wizards fight, and then fight over who uses their limited healing options

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast.

Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with hand kink!

#critical role #shadowgast #fic recs #cr fics #cr fic recs #essek thelyss #Caleb Widogast #whump #hurt/comfort #near death experience

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 8 months

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Sicktember #23

Prompt: Coughing Fit

Fandom/OCs: Howl’s Moving Castle (Howl and Sophie)

Words: 980

Sicknario inspo: Getting kicked out of bed due to coughing from this post

Author’s comments/background: Yet another excellent prompt that just needed a little context and the right characters. This can either be the book or movie characters. I think it’s generic enough either way. Howl and Sophie were some of my first fictional “couple goals” and it gives me no end of pleasure to write silly domestic things for thim. As I proofread this, I realized I didn’t give Howl any dialogue though. I decided to leave it, especially since I think I matched the original author’s tone pretty well overall and didn’t want to ruin it.

~~~***~~~

Howl had been sick for a week. In truth, that should be all the explanation that is necessary for those who know about Howl and Sophie and the moving castle, but this particular story was one Sophie would never forget. It began with Sophie, for her part, being heartily sick (no pun intended) of the wizard and his horrid cold.

This cold of Howl’s had started with lots of sneezing, as his colds always did, because sneezing allowed him to act as dramatic and victimized as he liked while garnering plenty of sympathy in the meantime. Sophie was practiced at ignoring this part of his colds. Of course she made him soup and ensured he dressed warmly to ward off fever and kept him well supplied with the floppy white paper handkerchiefs he favored, but his dramatics didn't disturb her, and usually his sneezy colds were short-lived.

Once in a while, though, these colds devolved, usually into miserable, achy, feverishness that compelled him to stay in bed for another week or more. This, too, Sophie could manage. Howl was an easy patient when he was actually sick, subdued and sleepy, though with no small amount of self-pity and attention seeking, and Sophie was overall happy to oblige, if for no other reason than to remind him that he wasn't dying and all would be well.

In this memorable instance though, after a night spent by the seashore working on a delicate, powerful spell, Howl's sneezing became chesty, persistent coughing. Soon the cough was accompanied by a low-grade fever that came and went, leaving him restless and lethargic and shaky in turns.

Howl wasn't robust at the best of times and tended toward the pale, slight side, so the frequent, wracking coughs drained him quickly. He walked around in a light-headed daze most of the day, but lying down only made him cough more unless he was propped up by an exact configuration of pillows that Sophie could never quite manage to replicate. He spent much of the day wandering around listlessly, clutching a mug of tea, the only thing that seemed to ease the spasms.

Nighttime was the worst. Sophie usually loved sharing a bedroom with her whimsical, magical partner, but this cough had both of them at their wit's end. Once Howl was properly propped up, he fussed and moaned for a long time until he fell asleep, always either too hot or too cold (since his fever seemed to spike just as he was going to bed each night) and clearing his throat every moment. Finally he would fall asleep, and then Sophie could follow, but it seemed the moment she would shut her eyes, he would burst out into one of his nasty, hacking fits, waking them both so that they'd have to start the whole process over again.

By the fourth night of this, Sophie had all but had it. When a coughing fit woke her yet again hardly an hour after she'd dropped off, Sophie sat up out of bed in a towering rage. "Why can't you just be quiet?! You're supposed to be this great wizard, yet you can't stop coughing for five minutes so I can sleep?! Go find some tea or tonic or a bag for your head for all I care, only be quiet and let me sleep!!"

Howl gave her a mournful, injured look. Without a word he slid out of bed (Was he wobbling from a fever or just playing it up?), pulled the coverlet off to trail it behind him, and made his sluggish way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Sophie lay fuming for a few more minutes, but slowly her frustration began to leak away. With guilt she realized she'd been horribly unfair to Howl. He couldn't help being ghastly ill, even if he did play it up a bit. After a moment's pondering, she hopped up and quickly remade the bed with the soft blankets Howl favored, then scurried down the stairs after him.

Howl was propped up in the chair beside the fire, the coverlet wrapped around him haphazardly. His eyes were closed but his mouth had a pinched look that told her he wasn't asleep. She moved to his side and caressed his cheek. His eyes flickered open to regard her warily. She was struck by how unwell he looked in the dancing firelight, pale and hollow-eyed, and she felt the heat of a fever under her hand. His chest and collar bones twitched with his silent, constant coughs.

"Forgive me. I'm tired, but I can't imagine how you feel, since you're the one doing the coughing in the first place. Let's get you back to bed. You'll really catch your death if you try to sleep down here."

She grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him up, resting his arm across her shoulders. He let himself be led to bed silently, and she sensed his deep weariness (along with a good measure of pouting) as he half-sagged against her as they mounted the stairs. She tenderly helped him back into bed, propping him up and tucking him in with a pan of coals for his chills.

Once he was settled and nearly asleep, she made her way back down the stairs, her own deep fatigue slowing her steps and making her clumsy. Shoving things aside willy-nilly, she revealed the cubby under the stairs where she'd slept for the first months she'd spent in Howl's castle, and her little bed with the straw mattress was just as she'd left it, no worse for wear other than the dust. She fell into its welcoming embrace as if it were made of the softest down. In the blessed silence, she was deeply asleep in moments as the crackling fire sang her a lullaby.

#sicktember 2023 #skt 2023 #prompt 23 #how/ls mov/ing cas/tle

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waterfallofspace · 1 year

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53 and 55 for d/azai and ch/uuya (the sick one 👁👁) perhaps please if you would like… <3

Thank you so much for the ask/request!! These have been so fun hahaha~~ I did get just a touch angsty/fever heavy towards the end, so hopefully that's alright, I promise it's not super serious! I also did want to include a little french, and while I did take it in school, I remember less than nothing, soooo this is all thanks to google, therefore I apologize for anything inconsistent/incorrect! [ Putain de merde = Holy shit ] [ À tes souhaits = Bless you ] [ Merde = Shit ] [ Je dois = I've got to ] 2.1k words, prompts 53 and 55, story under the cut! ~Part Two/Continuation Post Here~ 53. "Bless you?" 55. "You sound awful." (References to mild violence, high fevers, and swearing just in case anyone doesn't like any of those!)

~~~~~~~

Dazai is nothing if not observant. There is hardly a single detail in any given encounter he hasn’t seen, or predicted. Which is why he finds it almost insulting that people always insist on ‘hiding things’ from him. Especially his former partner.

‘Chuuya still seems to believe, incorrectly and against all odds, that I won’t notice if somethings wrong. Something such as the cough he was suppressing that was shaking his frail little form. Or the pink tint around his nose. The nose he couldn’t stop touching throughout our encounter.’

This is how Dazai came to be leaning against a wall outside a pharmacy. And if it just so happens to be the pharmacy a certain hat-adorned Mafioso frequents, wouldn’t that be a strange coincidence. ‘Any minute now, don’t keep me waiting- Ah. Here we go~.’

Chuuya steps out of the store, a gloved hand pinching his rapidly trembling nose. ‘He must have been trying not to sneeze the whole time he was in the store. Aw~! That’s just adorable. It’s practically famous within the Port Mafia that our dear Chibi can’t hold back to save his little, tiny, life. Well, time to announce myself!’ Dazai smirks, pushing off the wall and stepping into Chuuya’s line of sight.

“Chuuuuuya~! What a surprise, running into you here!”

“heH’EK- fuck!”

“Uh, bless you?”

“Damn it you idiot, you scared it away.”

Dazai lets his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to break through at the look of annoyance on Chuuya’s face, nose practically twitching with unreleased tickles. He snapped his hand away from his face the second he saw Dazai, but they both know he’s just itching to bring it back up, pun intended. ‘Oh this will be even more fun then I’d foreseen.’

“S- scared away the sneeze..? Is even Chuuya’s nose easily startled?”

“Eh?! I- You- oh whatever. What the fuck ar- hahEHhh… hePT-!huhh… Damn it- What are you doing here, Dazai?”

It’s practically a growl, and Dazai doesn’t miss the way Chuuya’s hand twitches as he presses it firmly into a fist against his side. ‘You wanna rub so badly, don’t you? I wonder how long you’ll be able to hold out. Judging by that glaze coating your eyes, I’d say not long, but hey, I out of anyone know how stubborn you can be. Shall we test your resolve, Chuuya~?’

“I was just passing through this part of town, and happened to notice the sky starting to look a tad cloudy, so I figured I’d duck under a nice dry roof! Just so happens to be of a pharmacy- say, what is Chuuya doing in a pharmacy anyways?”

“Nothing.”

“Wow, you bought a bag just for nothing? Seems a bit of a waste.”

Chuuya’s eyes roll, teeth clenching as he snarls, both of them knowing that any other time, he would have aimed a punch at Dazai for that. 'And we both know why you didn't. Little preoccupied there, Chuuya?' Dazai studies him carefully, noticing the way his mouth is starting to twitch right along with his nose, the itch seemingly spreading across his whole face.

“I bought some pain medication, alright? I get hurt a lot in this job, and I was running low.”

“Doesn’t the Port Mafia supply the good stuff? Why settle for cheap store bought?”

“I- I jus- Why do you even care! Doesn’t the ‘great Dazai’ have better things to do?”

“Awe~ You think I’m great? Chuuya~ you flatter me!”

Chuuya opens his mouth to retort, but what falls out instead of a cough that he quickly attempts to suppress, ducking into his hand and spinning on his heel, away from Dazai. ‘It’s a futile effort, I can still clearly see your body shaking. I think you know that.’

“Oh Chuuya, are you not feeling well?”

“Sh- huHh-! Really? Of all the times to come bahhHh- back… hePT’NNSHH’oo-! hAh’IZZSHHAA-! heHh… AhHH-! ahH’YZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Shut up, bandage factory. J- just leave me alone, I have things to do.”

Dazai notices the roughness of Chuuya’s voice as he lowers it, adding a growl in an attempt to make it seem intentional. ‘You must be feeling worse than I thought, a couple sneezes and a cough shouldn’t be enough to wreck your throat. Unless, of course, you��ve been doing it non-stop for days.’

“Well my schedule is completely clear, so I think I’ll just hang out with Chuuya for awhile! Where are we going next?”

“There is absolutely not a ‘we’. I am going back to my apartment. Alone.”

“Aw- come on, don’t be like that!”

“Ge- hehHh… get lost… hH’KZZZSHH’iuh-! Fucking… Ehh’knGSHH’aa-!”

“Double blessings for the double sneeze! Keep up the doubles and you’ll start sounding like me.”

“A fate worse than death, truly.”

Dazai clutches his chest, an arm draping across his face in mock hurt, making sure to keep one eye trained on the shorter man. ‘He’s practically trembling. It’s chilly out, but not enough for that reaction, especially not for someone like him. It’s most likely a fever, but it could just be exhaustion. I’ll need an excuse to get in close to check.’

“You wound me!”

“I’d certainly like to. hah’gNNShh’aa-! hh’ETZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Quite a threat, if only you could back it up. Alas, I fear this illness has reduced you to the level of a mere goon. Certainly not an executive in the elite Port Mafia.”

The words work exactly how he’d planned, a closed fist hitting Dazai squarely in the chest as the shorter man lunges at him, giving Dazai every opportunity to let his hand brush against Chuuya’s forehead. ‘He’s burning up. With the clouds gathering faster than I’d foreseen, I’d better get him off the street and fast, otherwise we’re looking at an outcome I’d rather avoid.’ A grunt breaks free from Dazai’s throat as Chuuya finishes the attack with a kick right to his gut.

“That feel like a sick man’s blow? Didn’t think so. D- damn it… hAhhHh-!”

Dazai pauses, leaning back against the wall to watch the show unfold. Chuuya has a gloved hand gripping his nose once more, eyes starting to gloss over as they lose focus. His hand is trembling, eyes starting to water. ‘Tsk tsk. We both know you can’t hold this back, are you really going to break your nose in an attempt to? Sorry, I just can’t have that.’

“Even Akutagawa can punch harder than that, Chuuya.”

“Eh?!”

Chuuya’s eyes snap to him, his hand wavers, and just like that, Dazai knows he’s won. The loss in focus, even for a second, is enough to give Chuuya’s nose the upper hand, its twitching visible from between the cracks in his fingers. ‘Checkmate.’

“ih’KNXT’chh-!”

Dazai bites back a wince at the way the stifle seems to scrape at Chuuya’s throat, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth as his breath catches once more. ‘Bad idea, Chuuya. You know that’s just gonna make you-’

“eH’KnGT’chhh-! inGT’chh-! GNT’chh-! heHh… dTnxxgt’chhh-! hH’KNgT’choo-! hEH’INGSHH’AA-!”

‘And there it is.’

“You gon-”

“AAISHHH’OO-! ATSHH’AA-! hH’INGSHH’AA-! heh’ASSHH’iuh-!”

“-gonna live, Chuuya?”

“hNGGSHH’OO-! Shut- nnMMGSHHH’AA-! Shut up- hH’INMSHHH’IUH-! S- slug… heAhh-!”

A deep chest soaked cough starts pouring out between the sneezes, rattling Chuuya to his bones, and sending chills down Dazai’s back. He nearly flinches as Chuuya falls against the wall, using it to study him as the wet coughs shake through his lungs. He manages to catch his breath, tears freely flowing down his cheeks, just to have it sucked out of him again as another round of sneezing starts up.

“hEH’NNGSHH’AA-! eh’KETSCHhh’iuh-! heP’TZZSHH’aa-! Putain de merde!”

“Doing french, are we? Well then, À tes souhaits, Chibi.”

“Whatev-”

The hoarse quality of Chuuya’s voice, barely above a whisper causes them both to pause, a wince escaping across Dazai’s features before he can mask it. Chuuya’s eyes widen, the panic in them seeming to seep into Dazai’s very soul. They stand for a minute, eyes locked, before Chuuya straightens his into a glare once more.

“You sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You should really have taken some medicine for that.”

“That.. was the plan.. before you.. interrupted me..”

Dazai can’t help but grimace at the harsh whisper, Chuuya attempting to lower his voice to a growl to make it sound intentional, but they both know no one’s buying it. ‘I really need to get him home and get him to take some medication. If he gets caught in the rain like this, it’ll be bad.’

Making sure to catch Chuuya’s eye, Dazai lets his hand slip into his pocket, pulling a dose of medication out, the kind you won’t find at any pharmacy. He smirks at the flash of desire that Chuuya doesn’t manage to hide.

“Whoops, guess that one’s my bad. In that case, this will just have to go to waste, I suppose. Since you have your own, and I was so rudely uninvited to your apartment.”

“You.. can’t be uninvited.. to something you.. weren’t invited to.. in the first place.. hH’RSHH’AA-! oww…”

They both flinch at the sneeze, Dazai letting his concentration slip for just a second. However, a second is all Chuuya needs, planting a roundhouse kick on Dazai’s arm as he snatches the vial, taking a swig before sticking it in his own pocket. Dazai raises an eyebrow at this, cheshire smile painted across his face, but a hint of something much more genuine in his eyes.

“What aggression Chuuya! You should really try some anger management classes to get that rage under control.”

“I didn’t have.. anger issues.. until I had the misfortune.. of meeting you..”

“Oh yes~. You were just a ray of sunshine when I first met you! Definitely no thinly repressed rage bubbling just below the surface that boiled over every time anything happened.”

“Oi.. are you trying.. to get punched again.. jackass..? eH’KtSHH’iuh-! Christ.. hASHHH’AA-!”

“Save your energy, you’ll need it. And besides, I’ve taken quite enough of a beating today.”

Chuuya doesn’t respond, ‘Electing to save your voice too, are you? Smart, given how quickly it’s fading’ but he does give Dazai a nasty look, raising his hand to scrub at his nose once more. Dazai feels a swell of concern in his chest at how unashamed his former partner has grown about his rapidly increasing symptoms. ‘The medicine should kick in within the hour… but I doubt you’ll make it home on your own before then.’

“huh’KKSHH’AA-! hEIYYSHHH’iuh-! nNGT’chh-! eh’INGT’chhh-! M- merde… Je d- dois… ehH’hEZZSHH’aihh-!”

A hand is casually raised as Chuuya attempts to cover, aiming for his shoulder with a hazy look that isn’t like him. ‘Damn it, I was hoping to avoid this outcome-’ Dazai manages to think, getting cut off, just as he foresaw, as Chuuya collapses into himself. A strong grasp catches the smaller man, Dazai letting out a huff at the weight suddenly in his arms.

“Easy there, still with me?”

A weak nod is his response, the glassy nature of Chuuya’s eyes suggesting the fever has grown worse. Touching his forehead, Dazai winces again at the heat, ‘Definitely gotten worse. The game is over, I’m taking you home now.’ Without a word, he lifts Chuuya into his arms, not missing the grunt he gets in response.

“You can fight me, and risk falling on your face, or you can just let me help you.”

Chuuya growls, but lets his eyes flutter shut, ducking away from Dazai and into his shoulder as another set of exhausted sneezes tears out of him.

“heh’nNKjschh’uhh-! ah’mmKNschh’uhh-! hehHhh-! hEH’IZZSHH’iuhh-! Guhh..”

“Bless you. Can you stand, or shall I carry you?”

Dazai easily dodges the fist aimed his way, but doesn’t miss the way Chuuya shakes at the force of his own weight. Without a word, he moves Chuuya’s arm back over his shoulders, letting the man lean against him. There’s a certain level of unease when someone’s relying on you to walk, and yet, with the two of them, this is an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Let’s get you home, partner. The medication will kick in soon.”

“Not.. your partn-”

“Save your voice, it’s physically painful for me to listen to you. I can feel my own throat starting to ache.”

A dirty look is shot his way before Chuuya’s eyes flutter shut once more, not even bothering to turn his head away, instead aiming the sneezes towards the ground in front of them. Dazai grimaces, not from the possibility of germs, instead, entirely from the concern that washes through him at the lack of shame.

“heH’DTZSHH’AA-! AIISHH’oo-! ehh’gnSHHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Save.. your breath.. stupid Dazai..”

“Hey, at least you still have that temper! I’d be really worried if that was gone.”

“Just.. take me home..”

Dazai lets a smile wash over his face, a warmth replacing the panic in his chest as Chuuya leans into his touch as they start the journey. ‘I’ll keep you safe, partner. Leave it to me.’

Without a word spoken between them, he knows he was heard and understood, just as he understands the response.

‘I trust you.’

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the requestttt this was so fun to write #hopefully its okay that its a bit angsty haha #i dont think its TOO bad but i was just in that mood when writing #also i might possibly do a follow up with what happens once they get there #if anyones interested!! or even just if IM interested haha #but if anyone bothers to read this and wants to see that let me know and ill do it~~#snz #snzkink #b/sd #c/huuya #d/azai #s/oukoku #they are my beloveds so id be thrilled to write more for them

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ejunkiet · 1 year

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Hi! You know I can't resist your requests... But!! I see you're looking to generate creativity to move your original work forward, so feel free to just let this prompt get you thinking but don't actually write a single word. (Sometimes that helps!)

undone for Milo/Sweetheart?

>:3 I took this prompt & mixed it with a request from @glassbearclock for early days milo/sh and a sick milo. ENJOY <3

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen, short & sweet.

READ ON AO3

“I don’t need ya to be my nursemaid, sweetheart.”

“I don’t need ya to be my nursemaid, sweetheart. I’m fine.” His voice is even deeper than usual, almost a growl down the line, and while they like the effect, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s very obviously sick.

Sick as a dog, you might say - pun intended. “You don’t sound fine, loverboy.”

“It’s nothing, really. I’ll-” He’s cut off by a wracking cough, loud and painful enough that he has to pull away from the line, covering the mouthpiece. They wait for him to pick up the phone again, fingers tapping against the side of their leg, their concern growing the longer it goes on, and shit.

When he comes back on the line, his voice sounds wrecked, rasping at the edges, as if he’s coming undone. “I’ll be fine, just gotta sleep this off.”

“Try telling me that again, without sounding as if you’re about to choke to death.”

He snorts, not fighting them on that, but they don’t take any pleasure in it as he pulls away from the phone to cough again, the sound edged with a miserable whine.

“Look, you sound awful. You got anyone there with you, from the pack?”

He scoffs. “Nah. I don’t want any of ‘em to catch it. ‘Sides, it’ll get through my system soon enough.”

Mouth twisting, they glance over at the clock in the corner. It was still too early for them to sign off, but there was a chance that they could take the rest of their work home with them. They’ve been stuck on paperwork duty for the day, anyway.

Sticking the phone between their cheek and shoulder, they open their work messaging app, drafting out a quick message to their line manager.

“I didn’t think wolves got sick,” they say to make conversation as they wait for a response, fingers tapping against the mouse pad. It’s been a while since their healing classes at D.A.M.N, but they’d remembered that note from one of their anatomy lectures.

(They hadn’t achieved full certification for nothing.)

Milo snorts again, a wet sound that somehow also manages to sound stuffy. “We do. It’s just not as common. We get the flu every now and then. I reckon Ash was down with it last week.”

The facts click into place, and right. He’d mentioned that Asher had been sick, meaning that David had to take the lead on the job he was meant to be running. Milo had spent the entire evening in the kitchen at his alpha’s request, preparing meals for the ‘sad sack who can’t cook anything’.

And then Ash had given his flu to him. Figures. One good turn deserves another, and all that.

The message notification on their computer screen dings, and they glance over to see that their remote working request had been approved, and good.

“I’m coming over,” they say instead of pointing out the fact that Asher is absolutely the reason why he’s sick right now, smiling at the way he sputters. “You need someone to take care of you, and if your pack isn’t gonna step up, then I guess I’ll have to.”

He lets that sit for a long moment, and they pause, uncertainty crowding their thoughts. “Unless you really don’t want me to-”

“No, it’s- it’s not that.” He huffs out a laugh that sounds more like a croak, and they make a note to pick up ingredients for ginger tea, with plenty of honey. “Just… you’re too good to me, sweetheart.”

They smile at that, warmth curling inside their chest. The big softie. “I know.”

Signing out of their work accounts, they take their laptop and slip on their jacket, making their way out of the office. They’ll make a stop at the market, pick up a carton of that cream of tomato soup he likes, as well as some fresh ginger and honey, and any other supplies they can think of along the way.

“I’ll be there soon. We can watch that show we’ve been talking about, with all the murder.”

“Murder on a weekday? You sure know how to woo a guy.” He huffs out a soft laugh, and it’s the best he’s sounded since they first called him from the office. “I’ll see you soon.”

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted milo #milo/sweetheart #GIFT FOR BEANS #ej writes redacted #writing #look I needed sweetheart taking care of milo <3

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nerdierholler · 1 year

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Nerdy's Wayhaven Chronicles Writing Masterpost

Detectives: Ethan Langford - Charismatic, flirty, attractive, outwardly full of confidence, inwardly struggling with feelings and events. Romancing Adam.

Henry Kingston - Nerdy, introverted, getting a little soft around the edges, doesn't quite believe he's as capable or special as those around him think he is. Romancing Nate.

Briana (Bree) Young - Former wild child, dedicated to her job because it gives her structure and goals, has a softer heart than she realizes, more that happy to fan the flames with Mason. Romancing Mason.

Prompt fills for Wayhaven Frights 2021

Stormy Night (Henry/Nate) - Henry wakes up to watch a storm, Nate joins him

Thriller (Henry/Nate, a continuation of Stormy Night) - Things go from stormy to steamy. Henry and Nate make out. Both parts are together on AO3

Harvest (Bree/Mason) - Mason and Bree at the local pick-your-own orchard. Did I make this into a Twilight joke about apples and vampires? Yes, yes I did. It was low hanging fruit (pun intended).

In the Shadows (Bree/Mason) - What if you no longer fear what lingers in the shadows?

Hide and Seek (Ethan/Adam) - Adam is very good at trying to hide his emotions and Ethan is at a breaking point for trying to seek them out.

Haunting (Bree) - Bree ponders Rook and Rebecca's life together

Isolation (Ethan/Adam) - Ethan’s been shut up alone inside his apartment dealing with the flu and Adam comes to check on him. It’s flirty fluff, mostly on Ethan’s part. Even sick he’s absolutely incorrigible. Also on AO3

Killer (Henry/Nate) - Here’s Nate and Henry pondering lobsters.

Nightmare (Ethan) - Guess who’s not processing the whole thing with Murphy very well, it’s Ethan.

Apocalypse ( Bree/Mason) - It's time for the Wayhaven Gala and the world must have ended because Mason is wearing a fancy suit.

Creature Feature (Henry/Nate) - Nate finds Henry in the library doing research and Nate definitely has a weak spot for a man who likes research.

Living Dead (Henry) - Henry's thoughts on getting turned in a vampire

Masked (Ethan/Adam) - Guess who’s hiding emotions? It’s Adam! *jazz hands*

Whispers (follow up to Nightmare, Ethan/Adam) - Ethan goes outside to clear his head and eventually a certain someone comes to join him.

Hunter (Bobby and Ethan) - Bobby's on the prowl on a Friday night

Full Moon (Bree/Mason) - Sittin' on the dock looking at some inviting water

Misc Writing

A Glass of Goodwill (Ethan/Adam) - A gift is offered. Adam is stubborn and Ethan is incorrigible.

#nerdy writes #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #ethan langford #henry kingston #briana young #life at nerdy holler

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 1 year

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Are u looking for smut prompts?!!?!? Cuz if so 13 for Jacob/Kit, but if not uhhhh disregard and have a cool day :p

I am so sorry this took me so long to get to, sometimes the smut just doesn’t want to come (excuse the pun) and this has sat in my wip folder half finished for forever. But it’s finally here and it’s definitely on the darker side of things.

@strangefable also asked for this one. So without further ado, the prompt fill for “Get back down here, we’re not done yet.”

Taste the Pain

18+, NSFW (Minors DNI)

Warnings: NonCon, References to torture and starvation, Fingering, Finger Sucking, Exhibitionism, Threats

Words: 1799

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Female Deputy (but Staci’s there too)

Read on AO3

Muffled groans were held back behind duct tape, like the sad sounds of a dying animal. By all accounts he was, or at least that’s what he was intended to be. Wide eyes searched the room desperately, trying to find something to focus on other than the cold stare that struck him full of so much fear.

Staci's mewling bit at her, burning through the ice that had frozen her veins for so long. Seeing him so worn out, so broken, and thin. He was emaciated, made weak since the last time she'd seen him, Jacob hadn't lied about what he intended to do with the traitor. He’d been trapped down here for seven days, the same seven days she remembered waking up to, feeling as though her stomach would start eating itself any given second, knowing that her brain had already started the process, and having that same sadistic grin looking down on her while she suffered.

Here they were all together, down in Jacob's bunker. The steady dripping of a pipe in the corner caused water to pool in the middle of the room where a small drain sat. Staci's cowboy boot slipped against the slick concrete, his foot kicking out as Jacob grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back, exposing his throat. A temptation for the killer instinct in Kit.

"Look at him, this pathetic piece of meat has been sniveling for days. Just won’t die though, so sure you'd come for him."

She closed her eyes, dragging them away from the bound man before her. His brown eyes brimming with tears. Snot running down in streams making the grey tape glisten in the gloom of the bunker’s lighting.

"Leave him alone, Jacob." She warned, not sure if her words would mean a damn thing at this point.

"You hear that Peaches, she's lookin’ out for ya." A cold chuckle drifting from him at the small defiant glance Staci shot in his direction. He hadn’t broken entirely yet, he was stronger than he looked, he had to give him that. "But you and I both know she didn’t come back here for you.” He squeezed Pratt’s shoulder, fingers digging into the space below the collar bone. “She's here because of me."

"This is fucking sick!" She snarled.

Jacob stalked around Staci, leg swinging with each prideful step. His pet had been the perfect bait to catch her, to get her to come back home, and now he’d get his chance to gloat. "Doesn't he deserve to know? His hero, the Deputy, is with the enemy." He pointed his finger at her as if she were on trial, a witch about to be burned at the stake.

Pratt's eyes went wide as a calf's at the revelation. A tear slipping down the side of his face while he looked at her with a furrowed brow. She could only imagine the things he was thinking about her now.

“Doesn’t he deserve to know about the things you’ve done for me? With me?” Jacob smirked and white teeth shone from the corner of his mouth.

She was of the mind to punch the look off his face. “No. I'm not...not like this.” She turned to climb the stairs back out of the bunker, back to where the fresh air blew, where she could think clearly again.

“Get back down here, Deputy. We’re not done yet.”

That growl of his stopped her feet dead in their tracks. Something that spoke to the most basic part of her. He knew how to command her, and just like how an animal is able to obey, understanding only the tone of voice, so too did she come to heel.

“Good girl. Now get your ass back where Peaches can see ya.”

She dragged her feet along the concrete floor, jaw clenched as her fists were held at her sides. Her heart pounding in her chest thinking about what Jacob might have had running through his head right now.

He circled behind her and she went rigid like she was under inspection, her muscles tensing, reacting to his proximity. Cold fingers wrapped around her neck and then grabbed at the collar of her jacket as he ripped it down her shoulders and arms, throwing it into a dark corner of the room. She wore just a tank top and dozens of scratches and bruises scattered across her chest, neck and arms suddenly came to light. He ran his thumb over the freshest of the batch, deep and purple, right at the curve of her neck causing her to wince as a twinge of pain shot through her muscle.

“Ya see I heard a rumor about our little pal Peaches here. I heard that he liked to flirt with ya."

Staci's head dropped, chin pressed to his chest. In a moment of weakness he had confided in the wrong person. Shoulders lifting and then falling with a heavy sigh.

Jacob's cruel grin made his eyes narrow, taking so much joy out of the deputy’s suffering. His nose pressed to Kit’s neck as his hand grabbed the chunk of hair at the nape just above her braid making her teeth grit. "Can hardly blame him."

He pushed her forward, legs stumbling under her like a foal. Grabbing at her sore point, he pushed her down to her knees. She could look nowhere but up at Staci, at his broken skin, all bruises and dried blood. The guilt began to eat at her and all she could do was mouth she was sorry - what little good that would do either of them now.

"From what I hear Peaches has been around the block a time or two. So I'm sure he can tell where all these marks came from." His hand slid from her shoulder, calloused palm rubbing against the tattooed flesh of her back. “Stay right there. Don’t you move a muscle," he whispered to her, his voice creeping into that part of her brain that aimed to please.

She didn’t try to run, didn’t try to fight. There was no point. Doing that would only mean harm would come to Staci, not to her. That was the unspoken rule, she already knew it. Staci was the errand boy, she was the real pet.

Returning to Staci’s side, Jacob grabbed at the corner of the tape on his mouth. Ripping it off in one foul swoop, like tearing off a bandage, portions of Staci’s stubble coming away with it. Patches of red scattered around his mouth, while the tape residue clung to his black whiskers.

His scream echoed around the confines of the damp basement, but Jacob didn't notice, he just kept right on talking. Unfazed by the horror he inflicted on others. "I'm willing to cut a deal here. I'll let Peaches live, hell he can even stay in the bunker, but he needs to know his boundaries, he needs to know where the line is drawn."

Kit could feel the swell of anger bubbling up to the surface once more. "I'm pretty sure he has an idea. You've made your point. Right, Stace?" She looked at Staci with pity in her eyes, knowing all too well that the young Deputy only had so much left in him after all that he'd been through.

He nodded his head fervently at her in return until Jacob yanked back on his hair, holding him in place once more. "He needs to know that what's mine is mine and it better stay that way, and the best way of doing that is getting used to a scent."

Her eyes flared up at Jacob, disgusted by the insinuation of what was going to come next.

"I don't share. And knowing that he's already been sniffing around you, well I need him to be aware of just who you belong to."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She snapped.

"He set you free thinking you'd come back for him. Thinking you'd escape together. I think Peaches here has a crush. Let's give him a taste of that freedom." He clapped his hands on Staci's shoulders, his cold stare directed at her. "Stand up."

She rose to her feet, swallowing heavily, dreading the soldier's next move, but unwilling to disobey.

"See how well she listens, Peaches. I never have to tell her anything twice. That's why she's not tied to a chair like you are."

Jacob chuckled to himself as he strode back over to her side, standing behind her, his pale stare focused now on Staci as his hands slid down her hips and over her curves. Unbuttoning her jeans, his hand slipped down the front of her panties.

A breathy, shaking sigh escaped her as his fingertips began to toy with her clit, rubbing rough circles against it. Sliding down her slit, petting her, slipping up into her until she was soaking wet and his digits were dripping with her slick.

Her eyes squeezed together tightly, wanting to grab his hands and pull them away, a bright red flush overtaking her. Turned on by the way he made her feel. Embarrassed to have an audience. Shocked to learn how much she enjoyed being taken by him as others watched.

Pulling away from her, he left her empty and wanting. His fingers glistened in the dark as he shoved them under Staci's nose, forcing him to smell the scent of her upon them.

Kit's heart sank as his eyelashes fluttered, his eyes closing as he took in her scent. Her salty sweet musk was a kind escape from the scent of wet earth the basement had surrounded him in.

Grabbing Staci by the jaw, Jacob forced his mouth open, shoving his fingers inside the younger man's mouth, allowing him a taste of her. Swirling his fingers against his tongue, stroking stripes against it, pressing down and making Pratt gag.

"How does she taste, Peaches?"

Staci tried to speak around the fingers in his mouth but it was no use. Saliva dripped down from the corner of his mouth and settled into the hairs of his beard as more tears fell down his cheeks.

"You better get every last drop of her, pup, because this is the one and only time you're going to get this."

Dragging his tongue between thick fingers, Staci’s cheeks concave as he sucked his master's digits clean.

"Good boy."

His eyes rolled back into his head, the conditioning still having an effect on his mind. Even as Jacob yanked his fingers free with a wet pop, Staci was not yet ready to have them leave.

"Now I hope I've made myself clear." Jacob wiped his fingers on the arm of Staci's shirt, smug as ever, his focus returned to her. "She's mine."

#far cry 5 #fan fiction #jacob seed x female deputy #jacob seed #staci pratt #oc: kit cross #dark smut #lemon

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year

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Do you have advice for plot specifically in stories? I am usually able to figure out characters, setting, and worldbuilding, but I struggle a lot when it comes to plot. - Amethyst

I do! I can share what helps me figure out plot and approach the story, but keep in mind every writer is different; if what works for me doesn't work for you, that's okay!

There are two big things I do when thinking about plot: asking why, and the skeleton. I hope they are of some use, and happy writing!

Asking Why

Plot is a messy conglomeration of worldbuilding, situations, and character reactions (among other things), so what's key for me is understanding why things are the way they are, and following that trail of questions. If you have a certain situation, prompt, feeling, etc, you want to convey, ask why it's there. Asking why and trying to answer those questions give your story more reason to them, which makes it feel more solid and believable. A healthy scattering of whats will also help.

I'll use a recent shorter work of mine, our corner of the world, a keefitz sick fic, as an example. I'd been given a prompt that someone was sick, and the other person didn't know how that had happened. So then that leads me down this trail: Well, why doesn't Keefe know Fitz's sick? They're not together when he falls ill. Well if they're not together, why does Keefe ask him about getting sick in the prompt? He must've had a reason to see him then, that way he can ask. Well, why does Keefe need to see Fitz? Maybe they had something planned. Okay, well the prompt is that he's sick, why is that important here? Oo, what if he's sick and that means he misses a date/hang-out spot. Okay, well what's Keefe's reaction to that? Thinking Fitz has had enough with him and self-doubt, so he goes to check on Fitz and after a little bit, they talk things out.

That process of asking questions of the very baseline situation I'd been given and the characters I was working with allowed me to think and explore in-depth various ideas. This was just one possibility, it could've led me a different direction.

Asking those questions to help create the plot instead of creating the plot and trying to fit it into the story I find allows it to feel more natural. I don't have to force things together because the two work in tandem. The baseline creates the plot, and then through the plot it enriches the characters and situation. It's more fluid this way, for me

The Skeleton

The other thing I like to do is write down the most bare bones outline of that plot I questioned into existence. It can be as simple as a single sentence explanation, but I make sure to know where I'm going. If I leave it open, I find my story wanders and loses sight of itself, and I never touch on what I want to. You may be different, but knowing (at least vaguely) my end goal is crucial.

For that keefitz fic, I wrote something like "Fitz sick. Keefe worried. Visits. Talk it out." Right there I've hit the most basic elements. There's the situation (sick, worried), what Keefe does about it (visits), and how it ends (talk). I know where I'm starting and I know where I'm ending, so I can get a better grasp of the space and story I have to work with.

For longer stories, like the wings au, the same thing applied. I was a little more sophisticated and decided an exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution, but each of those was just as simple. My notes legit say "big fight" for the climax.

From there, if you want to be more detailed, you can fill in the gaps between that and add muscle and fat and nerves to that skeleton, some organs to flesh it out (pun not intended but acknowledged). There's no rule about it, just however much you want to. I was fairly thorough for the beginning of the wings au, but way less so for the ending. For the keefitz fic I didn't go any further than what I said above and kept everything else in my head. Do what you like!

A final thing to keep in mind: plot can change! just because you've written things down doesn't mean you have to stick with them. Follow your story and don't be afraid to deviate. The original falling action and resolution I planned out in the wings au ended up not fitting with how the story developed as I wrote, so rather than force it into old plans I allowed it to grow outside of them.

Sometimes asking yourself more questions (why or otherwise) as you write will illuminate new opportunities you can incorporate, so if you're not certain of something now, it's possible you'll figure it out as you go. There were a few very important plot things in the wings ai I didn't know until after I'd started writing--like the little girl's role. She wasn't in my original plans at all, but ended up being very important!

So those are my main two things for plot. I find them very useful, so hopefully that helps answer your question :)

#writing advice #plot advice #quil's queries #nonsie #i love writing!#also as I go i'll add in little notes in brackets #of ideas I had and want to include #for the sick fic i thought of: 'i thought you'd finally had enough of me.' 'never.' and went oo I want to do something with that!#so I made note of it and worked it in #i could say so much but i will stop here #happy writing and plotting!

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oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 2 years

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Oh great master of prompts, I come to you seeking guidance once more.

Do you have any prompts for sick vampires? I saw a prompt about a vampire with a cold floating around on here and it made me hungry (no pun intended) for more!

Thank you for blessing snzblr with your prompt wisdom, O great one.

Oh, the fruit is sweet! ‘Tis a sin, but a delicious one…

*looks through the rolodex once more*

Let’s see…it appears vampires are the only ‘V.’ I should have known, considering my…preferences. Ah, well, here they are! I hope you enjoy them:

A vampire has given up sucking blood long ago after deciding to marry their mortal partner. However, that doesn’t mean that they don’t fall back on old habits occasionally. When they become bedridden with a cold, the vampire and the partner spend a lot of time in bed. One night, the partner awakes to find that the vampire has been sleep-biting them (due to comfort, hunger, etc.). The fangs don’t break the skin - it’s more how a puppy might bite its playmates - and their frigid nose is rubbing against their neck.

A vampire count has stricken fear into the hearts of every living thing in a nearby village. They make almost nightly appearances to spook cattle, prey on lost pets, and terrorize drunkards. During a particularly rainy season, they are seen less and less frequently, until they haven’t made an appearance in several weeks. However, one night, a villager hears a knock at the door during a storm. Just shy of the threshold shivers the vampire, their cape soaked through and their long nose red. Between sneezes and sniffling, they beg the villager to invite them in, almost weeping - a lot of doors had been slammed in their face for obvious reasons.

When one lives for hundreds of years alone in a dark, damp castle, they don’t exactly have the best immune system. A vampire thinks they’ve trapped a naïve traveler staying for the month in their crypt, but, unbeknownst to them, they brought a mild cold with them as well. It wasn’t long before the vampire was stumbling through the halls, sneezing into their thin cape and vowing to kill the traveler once they felt themselves again. The traveler, none the wiser, tries to help their “gracious” host recover.

A human, A, doesn’t know everything about vampires, despite their partner, B, being one. So when B comes down with a cold in the head, A learns all sorts of new things: vampires get more congested because they sleep upside down, their nose is more sensitive to smell when they are sick, it’s a vampire custom to count their own sneezes…the list goes on. A is very caring about B, but is still absolutely fascinated with everything about vampire illness. Perhaps a bit too interested, as they find a few days later when they begin to develop a rough cough.

It’s difficult to know exactly how to take care of yourself when you haven’t been sick in a few hundred years. A certain vampire, as a result, has been ill for quite some time. They have become used to knocking their head against the door of their coffin with each sneeze, having to wear a scarf outdoors, and avoiding victims with strong perfume or feathered hats. When a farmer from a nearby town stumbles into their castle and finds the sickly vampire within, they take it into their own hands to help the cryptid feel themselves again.

Bonus: what do you say to a vampire instead of “bless you”?

#ohnos prompts #snz #snz kink #snzblr #snezblr #snz things #snzario #snez kink #snezario #snz scenario #whump

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brinleyparke · 10 months

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Flash Fic Ideas/Prompts

(Most of these contain Mark Blaine bc I really liked him and thought they could have done more with his character).

AU – After getting fired from Ivo Labs, Mark gets a job at Tannhauser.

Barry/Mark Blaine

It's Take Your Kid to Work Day at SCPD. Barry takes Nora.

Mark babysits Nora.

Mark gets injured in the field by taking a hit for one of the team. (H/C)

Mark gets sick. (H/C)

Mark talking to Cecile while he was gone.

Mark's past

Post 7x07 AU – What if the icicle knicked Mark's intestine? He goes into septic shock. Frost begins to realize she might care for him more than she's willing to admit.

Post Crisis on Infinite Earths – Joe realizes he was wrong about Oliver all these years.

Slight AU future fic – Barry and Iris have a third kid, a boy. They name him Oliver.

Team Flash finds out Mark has pyrophobia.

The Red Death and her Rogues torture Mark

AU – What if Mark moonlighted as a stripper after getting fired from Ivo Labs bc just being a bartender wasn't enough to pay the bills?

AU –What if Mark was the one to fight Deathstorm? Maybe he has a latent meta gene that he didn't know about, or maybe Carla helped him give himself real ice meta powers so that Frost wouldn't be in danger?

What was going through Mark's head after being possessed by the negative speed force?

Moonlight x-over: What if Mark moonlighted (pun intended) as a Freshie after getting fired from Ivo Labs because just being a bartender wasn't enough to pay the bills?

Supernatural x-over: What if Mark worked at The Roadhouse instead of O'Shaughnessy's?

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kushami-hime · 2 years

Note

For your holiday themed wav prompt list:

(((this could also be done with any todo pairing)))

Your partner s/hoto t/odoroki and you are spending your first christmas/winter holiday together. you’re both having a wonderful time, but he’s 100% coming down with something. he tries to hide it at first, not wanting to spoil the mood, by stifling his sneezes. when that doesn’t work anymore and the itch is just too unbearable, he cracks and admits that he’s sick.

a little bit of a hurt/comfort sickness/denial dynamic for the holiday mood.

This is cute AF ;3; Immediately thought about them being on a Winter getaway or something at a lodge in the mountains with a ski lodge or something, that'd be sick (pun intended)

The question is, what pairing should I do, hmm...

#kushami asks

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coldflashevents · 1 year

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Should I try breaking my Day 1 fic (Mistletoe / Rogues) into 4 chapters so I can at least start posting it today with only a day late or should I just wait to post until it’s complete even if that means I’m way more late? Apologies for throwing off your entire schedule, I was sick all weekend so I didn’t have a chance to work on it like I was planning :(

Hi! Oh that's so thoughtful of you to ask, thank you!

Honestly, this is a super chill event (pun intended) so there are no worries at all about being behind schedule! The schedule is meant for inspiration more than anything else, so if the fic isn't ready right now there's no need to split it, you're very welcome to wait and post it whenever it's ready to go up. I know all too well how life can get in the way :') I haven't managed to contribute at all to the last two events, and I'm the one running them!

That being said, if you would prefer to split it, that's fine too---whatever works for you! I run these events for fun so I don't want anyone to be stressing about being late or going off schedule. Really, the prompts and set days are more like suggestions than hard and fast rules (that pun wasn't intended haha).

#answered

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mikelogan · 2 years

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What are your favorite something terrible happens to JD and that's what makes Dr Cox realize he loves him fics? (This ask is inspired by reading and loving your most recent jdox fic Cliff's Edge.)

THERE'S SO MANY TO CHOOSE FROM!!

And as I type this, I have like. At least 4 different ideas/WIPs that deal with the whole JD whump that's so prevalent in the Scrubs fandom. My favorites tend to be car accidents, a Janitor prank gone wrong, JD gets attacked in some fashion, literally anything resulting in amnesia lmao, or JD getting sick.

Not gonna lie, I'm super thrilled with how that came out. When I first got the prompt, I knew I wanted it to be something Dramatic with JD reaching for Perry's hand and vice versa. It wasn't til I actually sat down to answer the ask that I had that idea and it was all downhill from there. Pun absolutely intended 😂

#answered #kittythelitter #scrubs #jdox #someone put me in a home

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oldflyingraven · 2 years

Text

Day 25: Silence is golden

Prompt: Lost Voice

Mumbo gets sick and loses his voice.

Read it here or on AO3!

@whumptober-archive

The first thing he realised when he woke up was that his throat was burning. Swallowing felt like needles were poking his trachea. Well, that wasn’t ideal. Not at all actually. He had a Sahara meeting that day! Mumbo groaned and immediately started coughing when his breath caught in his throat. He bit back a curse at the pain that shot through with every cough.

The cold ground made him shiver when he got up. Now that he was standing he was realising that his whole body was aching. Was this his body’s way of punishing him for overworking again? Well, his body could stuff it. Sahara was so close to being up and running that he wasn’t going to stop now. They’d sold multiple memberships and were getting ready to start selling things. He tried out his voice and was dismayed to find that the only response his vocal chords gave was a quiet squeak. When he tried harder he could barely get out a hoarse and quiet voice.

Tea. The solution might be tea. With a lot of honey. He quickly made his way to the kitchen and made a cup. With more dismay he also realised that he was pushing it with time. He’d have to fly to the shopping district if he wanted to make it on time. Quickly packing the tea into a thermos he grabbed his rockets and ran out.

In his haste to be on time, combined with the deep ache in his bones, he fumbled the landing and spilled tea over himself. Mumbo flushed red with embarrassment. High pitched laughter which could only belong to Grian made it worse.

“Nice landing Mumbo,” he teased. Mumbo glared at him but didn’t respond. Grian raised an eyebrow at his lack of response. “Cat got your tongue?”

“S-” his breath caught again and he was forced to cough again. “Voice gone,” he admitted with defeat.

Grian frowned sympathetically. “Sick?” he asked.

Mumbo raised his shoulders. Logic told him that yes, he was definitely sick. But he didn’t feel like admitting that. Admitting that he was sick would mean admitting that he’d overworked himself again. And that would mean another well meaning lecture by Xisuma.

Iskall was the last one to arrive. “Hey guys!” he greeted happily.

Mumbo raised his hand in a small wave.

“Hey Iskall! Mumbo lost his voice,” Grian said. Mumbo didn’t have the energy to be peeved at Grian for revealing it. It’s not like he’d be able to keep it hidden for long.

“Oh no! Are you alright?” Iskall asked.

Mumbo shrugged again. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Well keep the meeting a reasonable length, okay?” Iskall said.

“Appreciated,” was Mumbo’s quiet response.

A reasonable length was a flexible term. Grian and Iskall had been discussing various things for the past two hours. Mumbo had tried to add on when he could, but he’d end up just sending the two of them messages instead of talking. Even with doing that instead of speaking he was exhausted. The achy feeling hadn’t gone away and he was starting to shiver even in the warm room.

“I still think we should try to partner with Idea! Just give them a small section in the warehouse to sell their ideas!”

“While I think it’s a good idea, no pun intended, I don’t think Keralis, Bdubs and Xisuma feel like it Grian.”

Mumbo couldn’t stop himself from coughing again. The attempts at talking had left his throat more wrecked than before. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Grian’s face softened from the lighthearted scowl he’d held before. “You look worse than before Mumbo,” he said gently.

“I’m fine,” he responded. Blinking with surprise, he found Grian’s cold hand against his forehead.

“You’re warm,” he said with concern.

“Oh,” he breathed out. Perhaps that was why he was shivering so much. “I didn’t realise.”

“Let’s wrap this up then. Go rest Mumbo. Sahara won’t walk away,” Iskall said.

Mumbo nodded softly. Going back to bed seemed like a good idea. But- he frowned. “Long flight,” he whispered.

“I’ll take you through the Nether, yeah? It’s a lot shorter if we go through there,” Grian said, wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulders.

“Okay. Thank you.”

#whumptober2022 #no.25 #lost voice #hermitcraft #fic #Mumbo jumbo #Grian #iskall85 #FlyingRaven oc

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toomuchponytail · 5 years

Text

Whumptober #21

��If you drink this, I will call off the snipers trained on your team,” the whumper smiled in faux good nature, setting a tall glass of pale cloudy liquid in front of them, “I think that’s fair don’t you?” They shrug, “Or you can walk right out of here.”

“And I’ll never see them again, right?” The whumpee sneered, “I know your game! I’m not an idiot!” They swallowed, eyes darting to the tumbler, anything could be in there, “How do I know you won’t kill them anyway?”

The whumper huffed in mock upset, like they were put out by the question, “ I give you my word, whumpee.”

The whumpee forced a laugh over their churning fluttering fear, “That’s worthless!” They growled, “I want assurance that if I do this they live.”

“That is something I can’t give you darling,” the whumper cooed, “You’ll just have to trust me,” They smiled cruelly, they had the whumpee right where they wanted them.

“What is it?” The whumpee asks finally, crinkling up their nose in disgust already in preparation of the whumper’s answer.

“A chemical cocktail I’ve mixed just for you,” the whumper smiles, something dark and shining in their beady eyes, “I’‘m not sure what will happen first, the pain or the hallucinations, but it will be a ride I assure you.”

The whumpee took the glass, it was cold in their hand, they look back up at the whumper, “Is it going to k-kill me?” They ask, their voice giving away the boiling nerves inside their gut.

The whumper doesn’t answer, they just look stare at them fixedly, their eyes bright with madness and unmistakable joy, as they watch the whumpee shake their head in frustration, it didn’t matter! and lift the glass to their lips...

The whumpee had come here on their own volition--it was good for them to remind themselves of this, they were doing this for their team, not because their team had made them come. They didn’t even know that the whumpee was here, they didn’t know about the snipers either, they glanced at the whumper one more time over the rim of the glass.

In the end it was about the chance, if there was a chance that this would work, that they could save their friends then they had to do it right? How could they live with alternative? Whatever this was going to do to them would be worth it if their friends lived.

The first swallow was the hardest, the drink was bitter and sour, they swallowed through the gag reflex, trying not to breathe through their nose so as to not taste whatever was in the glass. When they finished they gagged and coughed, worried for a minute that they were going to be sick. When it passed they set the glass back on the little table with shaking hands.

“N-now what?” They tried to ask with their previous aggression, but the strength behind it was gone, they knew that the drink was going to do something to them, and now they were powerless to stop it, they hated being powerless.

“Now we wait,” the whumper smiled, looking like they’d charmed the crown off of the king, they pulled the whumpee up off of the chair and within inches of their face watching them with fascination, “Shouldn't be long,” they whispered into the whumpee’s face reverently.

The whumpee was going to pull away from the whumper’s iron grip and laugh in their face--they were about to cuss them out, but the words died on their tongue as their eyes widened, and their mouth went dry. Then they felt like they were falling through the floor, like their muscles were made of stone and pulling them down through the linoleum like it was water. The whumpee grabbed onto the whumper’s shirt to keep themselves from sinking with a panicked yelp.

The whumper reached forward, and snapped their fingers in front of the whumpee’s face, the sound made them wince, it was deafening, the whumpee turned wide terrified eyes up to the whumper, pupils blown wide as the drugged drink took effect.

They couldn’t do anything as the whumper slowly sat them back down and tied them to the chair, they felt like they were being pushed through matter in slow motion, the tendrils of the universe curling around them in swirls of colors that they didn’t even know the names of.

Then there was a hand on their cheek, flushed with unnatural heat, they tried to pull away from the touch, they knew it was the whumper, “C-call, ‘em, oofff,” the whumpee slurred, holding onto the deal like they were dangling from a rope above a dark and endless chasm.

“I will,” the whumper’s voice was huge, booming, it shook the world, the whumper smiled at the cringing, the tears that come to the whumpee’s eyes from the painful sound, they tried to speak even louder when they continued, “But if they come here to try and save you, the deal’s off,” they cackled as the whumpee jumped and pulled against the restraints weakly, trying to use their bound hands to cover their ears.

“Just get comfy,” the whumper smiled, “It’s going to get so much worse before it kills you.”

#whumptober2019 #no21 #whump #Drugged #tw drugs #self sacrifice #hallucinations #threat of violence #prompt #whump prompt #writing prompt #Sorry I fell behind #got a little sick but I'm working on it #If the next few are a little odd it's because I'm feverish #Had to work on cold medicine #Which is always a TRIP no pun intended

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