#UGH paper makes me sick and ill..

[doroach]

Evil papers headspace

[wosospacegirl]

fever - kika nazareth

Summary: Kika is sick, and Y/n is falling in love

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

a/n: This is a schedule post. I had this fic lying around, but I forgot in what doc it was 💀💀💀

..

It started at training.

Kika had shown up looking ridiculously good–her hair in a messy ponytail, flushed cheeks, sleeves pushed up, all effortless and pretty and… hot. Like, really hot.

Y/n had genuinely stopped in the middle of a rondo to stare. Pina even smacked the back of her head when she lost possession of the ball to the other team… but Y/n couldn’t help it. It had been four whole days since she’d last seen Kika.

Kika had gone on a trip back to Portugal to see her family. She got some time off and decided to enjoy it back in her homeland.

Unfortunately, Kika didn’t think about how much it would affect Y/n… poor girl was getting sadder and sadder each day.

“She looks so pretty,” Y/n whispered to Alexia during their water break, eyes fixed across the pitch as Kika talked with the manager.

“Um… no,” Alexia muttered back. “She looks like she’s about to pass out.”

Y/n blinked. “What?”

But before Y/n could make sense of that, Kika began coughing–a lot. Romeu even put a hand on her back, either for comfort or to actually help.

And then came the sneezes. Y/n counted seven, while Alexia counted eight.

When Kika was done, the tips of her ears were red and her forehead was shiny with sweat, as if coughing and sneezing had taken a toll on her body.

“Flu season,” Alexia said. “She’s probably burning up.”

Y/n, still in complete denial, shook her head. “Nah. She just has... allergies.”

“She just sneezed again,” Alexia said, deadpan, pointing to Kika, who’d just been handed a paper towel to clean her nose.

“I think it was more like a… new form of communication she’s trying.”

“Her neck is red.”

“She’s just—radiating energy.”

“Nena,” Alexia said, now more impatient. “She’s not radiating energy. She’s radiating a fever.”

Y/n gave one last look at Kika, and yeah… she looked bad. The assistant managers had just walked her off the pitch into the hallway that led to the locker room. Guess no training for Kikinha today.

The reason Y/n absolutely didn’t want to believe Kika was sick?

They were supposed to have a date today.

Not a romantic one–just… casual.

A friends-with-benefits-who-are-hungry-and-go-out-to-an-Italian-place kind of date.

But now that Kika seemed to have lost one of her lungs, it looked like those plans were about to change.

Y/n ended up volunteering–casually, definitely not suspiciously–to check in on Kika for the rest of the team.

Kika didn’t even argue when Y/n knocked on the door and let herself into the locker room.

She was slumped on the bench, hoodie pulled over her training kit, legs curled up under her like a sleepy cat.

Her nose was pink. Her eyes looked glassy. Her hair was still in that hot, messy ponytail.

“Hi,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. Normal. Not worried. Not in love.

Kika sniffled. “Hi.” Her voice was so raspy it made Y/n wince.

“You dying?”

“No, I’m fine,” Kika mumbled, swaying a little as she stood in front of her locker. 

“You’re not,” Y/n said, one hand hovering behind her back in case she stumbled again. “And you’re, like, weirdly warm. I thought it was because you looked… good. But I think you’re just ill.”

Kika gave her a sleepy smile. “You thought I looked good?”

Y/n, tragically, had no comeback. Not a single sarcastic one. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s a little bit the point,” Kika teased, before groaning and pressing a hand to her head.

“You’ve been gone for four days,” Y/n mumbled, brushing a hand over Kika’s back. “I was gonna take you out tonight.”

“Ugh,” Kika groaned. “The pasta.”

“I know. I had my outfit picked and everything.”

Kika sniffled again, tugging Y/n’s sleeve and curling into her more. “I can still go.”

“You can’t even stand.”

“Carry me?”

“No.”

“Piggyback?”

“No.”

“Stretcher?”

Y/n laughed soflty. “You’re delirious.”

Kika turned her face into Y/n’s shoulder. “I’m touch-starved and flu-ridden.”

“I’m taking you home” Y/n finally said, helping her sit up. “No training. No pasta. Just meds, soup, and me bossing you around.”

“Hot,” Kika whispered.

“You are hot,” Y/n mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Let’s make a quick stop at the infirmary.”

The nurse confirmed it–Kika had a fever of 38.4°C and was sent home with strict instructions to rest.

Y/n, ever the idiot-in-love, offered to stay with her. You know… in case she fell or needed something.

..

That night, Kika was curled up on the sofa with a blanket over her legs, hair messy and cheeks pink, sniffling into a tissue and blinking up at Y/n like she’d never been more adorable.

“Still think I’m hot?” she croaked, voice all raspy.

Y/n handed her water with pink ears. “Honestly? You’re sweating and your nose is red and I think I’m even more into you.”

Kika smiled so softly it made Y/n’s chest ache. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said. “And you’re sick.”

Kika was not usually clingy.  At least, not like this.

Normally, she was composed and soft-spoken–the kind of affectionate that snuck up on you: gentle touches, shy smiles, casual thigh presses on the bench.

But whatever virus had taken over her body had apparently also overridden her emotional regulation.

Because now she was sprawled across Y/n’s lap like a cat, sniffly and half-asleep, one arm wrapped stubbornly around her waist.

“I don’t wanna move,” she mumbled, nuzzling into Y/n’s hoodie like it was a pillow. “You’re comfy.”

Y/n blinked at the wall, hands hovering awkwardly above her. “Okay but… I need to pee.”

“No,” Kika said firmly, burrowing closer. “Stay.”

“This isn’t fair,” Y/n muttered. “You’re burning up, you’re sweaty, and you still smell good. How is that even possible?”

Kika just made a sleepy little noise and tightened her grip.

Y/n had never taken care of a sick person before. She was the one who usually got looked after–stubborn and grumpy when ill, but quietly appreciating the attention.

This?

This clingy, feverish Kika who wanted nothing but popcorn–for some unknown reason–cuddles, and her presence at all times? She didn’t know what to do with it.

“Should I, like… make soup?” Y/n asked out loud.

Kika whined. “No, I don’t like soup.”

“I think sick people need soup, though.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to get up and make something for you to eat, bebé–like real food.”

“No.”

Kika pulled the blanket up over both of them and held her tighter. “Soup later. You now.”

Y/n’s heart physically ached. “You’re so clingy,” she whispered, brushing sweaty hair off Kika’s forehead. “I didn’t know you got like this when you get sick.”

She ended up texting Alexia, after 30 minutes of staying perfectly still while Kika clung to her even more.

Y/n: what do i do when she’s sick and clingy and adorable and i think i might die

Alexia: You hold her and kiss her dumb forehead and accept your fate.

Y/n: I dont think i ever got to this part before

Alexia: welcome to being in love

Y/n stared at the screen, then at the girl drooling slightly on her hoodie. 

Yeah. She was doomed.

..

Hope you guys liked it!! <3

[thragedys]

Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright. 

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.” 

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time. 

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match. 

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him. 

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not. 

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view. 

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise. 

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you. 

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.” 

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

[oceantornadoo]

hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

--

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

[jonquilyst]

Day 16 - Challenge Day

If you were hoping we'd make our way around to Henford-On-Bagley, then today's your lucky day! It was a long flight, but we've finally made it to the rolling hills of this countryside region!

A local gardener as enlisted our help in the care of two oversized pumpkins. They're almost fully-grown, but the gardener is on vacation and won't be home in time to harvest their crops!

That's where our challenge comes in. The teams will spend 24 hours off-the-grid in these makeshift cabins we built, doing their best to not just survive, but also to take care of the oversized pumpkins! The pumpkins will be harvested after the 24 hours are over, and the team that has the heaviest pumpkin will win first class and invincibility!

Today's Confessional: Alanna Castillo

"Oh my goodness, I think this challenge- and this neighborhood- is gonna give me so many ideas for my writing. I can feel the gears in my head starting to turn! I'm imagining there's this country girl living in a cabin like the ones we'll have, and she makes her living growing oversized pumpkins! Ugh! It's such a cute idea for a character, I wish I had paper so I can write all this stuff down!"

Our 24 hours begin with both teams taking initiative on the pumpkins! Estrello (IN) and Raylan (OD) water them both to ensure proper hydration

The pumpkins don't need constant supervision, so in a way this challenge is essentially a bonus socialization day too! Matteo (IN), of course, made sure to entertain himself with some singing, which attracted most of the contestants to Team Integrity's cabin to hear him! It got pretty crowded in there... The cabins are pretty tiny 😂

Meanwhile, Marilyn (OD) decided to spend her time exploring the neighborhood and came across a white fox! Nite (OD) caught up with her and the two had a nice time observing the fox together

Marilyn and Nite eventually returned to their cabin and spent time with Touma (OD). Meanwhile, Alanna (IN) and Estrello (IN) spent most of their day together (with Nite observing approvingly). These two have been spending a lot of time together lately and have been getting very close!

However, things aren't looking so bright for Elio (IN). They've been feeling dizzy and within the last few hours they developed swirly rashes all over their skin... Seems to me that Elio is sick!

Normally, we cure any illnesses right away with our generous stock of medicine, but since we're in an off-the-grid challenge and not in the plane, Elio will have to deal with their illness until the challenge ends... Team Integrity gave Elio a free pass on challenge participation and had them rest on one of the beds inside the cabin

As I said before, the cabins are tiny, so we were only able to fit 2 beds inside each cabin. With not enough beds for everyone, the teams have to make important decisions on who sleeps and who doesn't. Marilyn goes inside to find that both beds are occupied, while Matteo was quick to claim a bed for himself so he wouldn't lose out on beauty sleep 😴

In the end, morning eventually comes and the teams ended up sleeping in shifts so everyone could get some sleep. Tomiko (OD) is awake bright and early to make some salad for herself! She eventually joins Nite in caring for their team's pumpkin one last time before the 24 hours are up.

Meanwhile in Team Integrity, it was Matteo who volunteered to care for his team's pumpkin!

RESULTS:

Team Odyssey: 25.25 kg Team Integrity: 25.59 kg

WOW! This result is EXTREMELY close, but in the end...

TEAM INTEGRITY WINS!

Congratulations once again, Team Integrity! First class and invincibility are yours once again!

And Team Odyssey... What a shame to lose so narrowly! You will have your second elimination ceremony as soon as we board the plane. I'll see you there!

@lyratea @invisiblequeen @bloomingkyras @matchalovertrait @kari-sims

@nakasumi-sims @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @hellogreta @paracosmic-sims @aliengirl

@kissalopa

[snzcaretaker]

𝕳𝖆𝖞𝖋𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

Below are Edwin’s journal entries from his time suffering from hayfever - and realizing he's in love <3 He's pining again...when will he get it through his head that he matters to Ambrose??

March 4th - Curse it all! Spring is the worst sort of season! For a few short weeks, I had been well, and even had some hope of enjoying the good weather. Then the March wind tore the pollen from the head of every blooming thing, and stuffed it directly up my sinuses. Head so clogged I can hardly speak without someone tittering at the sound of muffled consonants. Constantly dripping, and at the same time burning like the devil himself has taken up residence inside my nose. I should know by now that this is my luck. If it's not the damn cold, it's the flu, and if it's not the flu, it's hayfever. I am wretched, as a definition.

The worst of it is that I dare not say a word to Ambrose. I began to really hope, when he was caring for me. I felt such strange feelings…a kind of safety. With him, I can bare not only my heart, but every ailment of my body, even the most disgusting. His eye will behold everything and make it beautiful. I felt soft and open and happy when he was here.

But I can't bring him back. It's one thing to have a friend wait by one's sickbed, but to call for help over hayfever? Just because of a little discomfort? There's no excuse for it. So the state of my nose puts me in mind of illness, without any of the comforts afforded to someone facing real danger. For the first time, Ambrose made me capable of thinking of myself as attractive when I'm in this state. A creature worthy of being touched. And now every sneeze fills my mind with affectionate daydreams and impacts my body in the most humiliating ways. I find myself frustrated in all senses of the word. But I've said more than enough of that.

March 6th - If I could stop sneezing for five minutes together, I would be in better spirits. But as I cannot, I have been cross all day, and the servants make every effort not to place themselves in my warpath.

I know I'm intolerable, and for no good reason. It's all just a nuisance, and to speak of it as anything worthy of note is both disgusting and alarmist. I am NOT dying, much as I feel like it, and so I have no excuse at all to be held or to be - no, I won't finish a sentence like that. God, what is the use in putting down such frivolous thoughts? I really will die if I ever read them back - of blushing. I need to banish such thoughts from my mind, but to see them on paper is almost worse. To anyone else reading this diary: please burn it.

March 9th - Oh god. I'm in love. That's what it is.

Took a turn up the hill behind the stables, hoping that the morning rain would have settled the pollen. Instead, it chilled the air more than I might have liked and turned the landscape maddeningly rich with colors. The blue of cornflowers, the pink of wild roses, and the gentle yellow of cowslips glowed under the re-emergent sunbeams. But there is no sunshine without my Ambrose, and my eyes dewed over to match the lingering droplets, and I couldn't help watering the flowers with many lonely sneezes and tears. How melancholy I felt!

Am I so pathetic that I want Ambrose near me even when I am not really ill? There is no danger at all, but I want…I want someone to talk to. Some company, an arm in mine… Someone to share the flowers with… Someone who will see me as the pitiful thing I am and hold me together anyway… Ugh… what nonsense. My throat is sore but not as sore as my heart. Sick or not, I am lovesick. I think I will go to bed today.

[mouthwashingconfessionsblog]

the very many utter dogshit takes and things ive seen depicted in this fandom disappoint the FUCK out of me.

the people romanticizing lobotomies and lobotomy victims? the insanely weird ties to jimmy and beastiality? the people who are being downright ableist to post-crash curly? it's fucking insane. not to even mention anya and her victimhood / pregnancy.

OH. AND PEOPLE BEING WEIRD ABOUT JIMMY AND THE IMPLICATIONS OF HIM BEING NEAR POVERTY OR HOMELESSNESS AND THUS INSINUATING HE'S CONSTANTLY DIRTY OR GROSS. GO FUCK YOURSELVES FOR THAT ONE!

people also completely faulting curly for what happened also is kinda shitty, because if i'm not mistaken he's also a victim of jimmy's abuse and thus was using the "fawn" response upon hearing anya's confession to him. (similar to what she ended up doing later on the series, actually. except she complimented him to try to lessen the blow of any rejection or any consequence she would have faced for asking jimmy to feed curly his pills. [she couldn't/wouldn't because she was very hormonal due to Being Pregnant, and the thought of forcing the pills for curly made her incredibly upset, among other reasons.] also anya is more than her trauma. you know this, right? it's important to me that people know this. you guys can draw her smiling or something. for once.

so many people in this fandom make me fucking sick. mouthwashing fandom be normal for seven fucking seconds. failed immediately.

this is really heated and incredibly emotional and aggressive and i Get That, but i've seen all of this happen and it's being normalized and it's genuinely weird.

do some fucking research on what a lobotomy does to a person and how the procedures were done unwillingly on mostly housewives to keep them obedient to their husbands / in the case of rosemary kennedy, done on her by her father for her showing of traits of mental illness. don't boil down the comment jimmy said to anya of the "finding cartoon horses sexually attractive" or whatever to just "heehoo i wanna fuck a horse" or to just straight beastiality. don't be fucking weird about people who are near-homelessness or near-poverty. don't be fucking weird towards disabled people. get that GROWN MAN AWAY FROM THE FUCKING BRIGHTLY COLORED BUTTONS LIKE HE'S THAT DAMN DOG ON TIKTOK WHO CAN SPEAK. HE IS A GROWN HUMAN BEING HE CAN USE THE PROPER COMMUNICATIVE DEVICES! among some other things that, if i mentioned, i might as well just be writing a thesis paper on this shit. because good lord. part of this could just be confined to twitter only or whatever but as with anything on the web, it bleeds over. be normal, everyone. for five damn seconds. ugh. mouthwashing is not something you can just put blanket statements to and label one character as explicitly good or bad. a lot of people need to shut the fuck up and do some proper research. sincerely, someone who's pissed off in this fandom. <3.

.

[darksturnioloqueen]

TreeHouse Chapter 14

"Keep your enemies closer."

Summary: Sienna gets involved in more ways than one.

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."

⚠️This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of abuse.⚠️

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

⚠︎Trigger Warning: angst, snapping at friends, falling, forward Matt, uninvited kissing, Victim!Chris upset, anxiety, being fake, mention of bad boy behavior, making bad decisions, more forward Matt, worry about Chris getting hurt. ⚠︎

Sienna's POV:

It was going to be hard to focus today. I thought about telling my mom I was too sick to go to school, but then I knew I would sit at home all day wondering about Chris. At least going to school meant I would get to see him. I knew it would be torture for me not to talk to my old best friend for the sake of his safety, but I was going to have to try. At the bus stop, I figured it would be safe to say something to him, but he didn't show up. My heart dropped immediately. Thumping fast, low, pounding thumps. I felt my hands getting wet and my mouth getting dry.

"Hey, girl." AK wrapped an arm around me.

"Hey." I mustered out.

"You good?" He picked up on my rigid stance and dropped his arm.

"Chris isn't here." I looked around as the bus pulled up. I thought maybe at the last second he would come running from around the corner, but he didn't

"Maybe he got a ride with his hot brothers." AK joked. I cringed. The idea of them being around him at all disgusted me. I knew the truth.

"We still don't know if they are brothers." I diverted the conversation a little.

"How can they not be? Other than one never having a good haircut in his life, they are -"

"Shut up." I snapped in defense of Chris. I immediately looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. I ugh..."

"I get it. You are still uncomfortable with the whole Matt thing. I know he apologized, but -"

"Yeah. I just don't know how I feel anymore." That was the truth. I couldn't imagine Matt being an abusive monster but I also knew very little about him. Maybe if I got close to him he would tell me? I shook my head. That was an ill thought. Matt would never own up, he didn't even consider Chris a brother when we talked about things at McDonald's. The bus pulled up, and I searched everywhere again with no sign of him.

"How is Matty, boy?" Julia re-sparked all the questions I suffered from inside alone. Of course, I recognized my suffering was nothing compared to what Chris was going through. He had been alone for all these years. He grew up like this. I felt a lump in my throat.

"Si..." AK sang my name for attention.

"I'm fine." I lied.

"That would be believable... if that was what I asked." I looked at Julia.

"Oh," I went to answer her, but I couldn't remember the question. "What was the question again?"

"What has gotten into you?" She grabbed me and pulled me to look at her.

"I... I can't te-" The bell rang. "I have to go." I darted off in the direction of my locker. I knew sooner than later, they were going to pick me apart until they got an answer. I spent all of the first shift trying to think of anything that would make sense. I wrote down a small list of lies I could use. None of which were good. Second period. I ran. I ran through the hall, dodging as many kids as possible. I saw a boy with black fuzzy hair and looked behind me fast. I tripped over my feet and glided through the air in slow motion. My books and papers were skewed all over the hallway floor.

"Fuck." I yelled as I landed. Ignoring the weird stares I felt on my back, I picked up everything as fast as I could.

"Babe, are you okay?" I looked up.

"Matt." I squeaked. I couldn't help but be terrified of him. I knew the truth.

"Here." He held out a hand, and I noticed that the people staring and laughing were no longer engaged in my tumbling scene.

"Thank you."

"I can walk you to class. Come on." I wanted to decline, but Nick's warning overpowered my inner voice. I just nodded. "I missed you at lunch. Are you avoiding me?" His words were simple, but his tone held a slight threat to them.

"What? No." I over-exaggerated my facials.

"Good. I want to have lunch today. No excuses." I gulped.

"Okay," I whispered. He wrapped an arm around my lower back as we walked. I was tugged closer to him whenever someone looked our way. "This is me." I forced a smile. I saw his eyes flick down to my lips, and I watched him slowly close the gap between us. I panicked. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me in. I was frozen. He captured my lips within his, and I stood still. I would have dreamed about this any other time, but I couldn't will myself to want someone I was unsure of. I still couldn't see him as the person Chris said he was, but I also believed Chris. He would never lie to me, not then and not now, especially about something like this.

"I'll see you at lunch." His kiss stole my breath. I looked into his beautiful eyes and imagined Chris looking back at me.

"Okay." I bit my lip. I walked into the classroom, and my heart stopped. Chris. I sat down next to him. "Chris, are you okay? What happened this -"

"Stop." His voice was stone cold.

"Did you walk to school?" I asked, but I was met with silence. "Please talk to me," I begged.

"Matt?" He looked at me. His face was pale, with the only color being healing bruises.

"Oh god." I didn't even think about him witnessing Matt kissing me. He looked away. "He kissed me. I didn't know what to do. I... he..." I was choking on my words.

"He can't know, you know." Chris' voice was a little softer with understanding.

"I know. That's why I -" I started.

"He might hurt you. I don't want that to happen." Chris wouldn't look at me.

"I'll be fine," I assured him. After the bell rang and everyone got quieter, I asked him, "Will you?" He looked at me. His eyes were not attractive like Matt's because they were the cliche blue you read about. They were beautiful to me because they were stronger than anyone would ever know.

The class was in motion. Some students were working on projects or tutoring together. Chris and I were passing notes. I could tell it was making him feel a little better. We weren't talking about anything, just coloring silly pictures. It felt like I was getting a piece of my childhood back. I now got to experience something I missed out on with the person I wanted to, even if it was as simple as passing paper back and forth in middle school.

"Notes in class?" The teacher called us out for not focusing.

"Shit." I mumbled.

"Since you two want to be penpals so badly, how about you help Christopher with his English project? His marks could use some improvement." The teacher glared at Chris.

"Yes." I accepted quickly. Chris looked at me and shook his head from side to side small. His eyes held fear. "I can't." I quickly tried changing my answer.

"And why is that?" The teacher raised their brow at my rebuttal.

"I... Uh... I can't read." I instantly remembered my horrible lie list. Lying was never my strong suit. A couple of kids that tuned into us getting in trouble laughed.

"Well, then you can help each other." They were not impressed with my excuse. I sighed. I looked over at Chris. He looked straight forward, with a look of terror on his face.

"Chris." He didn't move. I watched him. He didn't blink until the dismissal bell went off again. "Chris," I said more freely. He looked at me. "Tonight?" I wanted to make sure he was still coming over. I was now going to suffer from constant anxiety anytime I didn't know he was okay.

"Yeah." He stayed seated, and I left before him in case Matt was waiting to walk with me. Luckily, I could breathe easily because he wasn't. I walked to the library and saw him sitting at a table. He was reading one book and writing down notes in a journal. He looked innocent.

"Keep your enemies closer," I whispered to myself as I entered the library. "Is this seat taken?" I whispered.

"Yeah, it is." Matt didn't even look up from his writing.

"I'm looking for this really cool guy named Matt, have you -" He looked at me now. "Seen him?" I finished.

"Si!" he accidentally said a little loudly. Some other students studying looked over at us. He tucked his head down in embarrassment.

"Hi." I sat in the seat, making sure there was room in between us. "What are you working on?" I asked.

"Just some English, but it can wait." He closed the books to give me his attention, which made me extremely nervous. Talking to him was dangerous. If I accidentally said the wrong thing, Chris could get hurt. Or maybe even me.

"I love English. It's my favorite subject."

"Mine is probably Chemistry." He said, scooting closer to me. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or if that was supposed to be a flirty statement. His hand landed on my leg, and he held it tightly. I felt myself shiver. "Do you want to skip lunch again?" He whispered in my ear. I didn't feel safe going anywhere alone with him. He acted like he did at the basketball game. Forward. I didn't like it then or now.

"Um... I don't think that's a good idea." I looked around and saw that no one in the library was paying attention to us.

"You had fun last time yeah?" He put the pressure on.

"Yeah, of course." I shrugged to seem nonchalant.

"Let's go." He stood up, tucked his books under his arm, and held out his hand.

"Only for lunchtime. No missing class." I wanted to put a time limit on it. I was hesitant to be alone with him but I also wanted to try and manipulate information out of him. I took his hand.

"Don't worry, Cinderella I'll have you back in time for class." He squeezed my hand and started pulling me along. We went through the empty halls until we were at a random door I don't think I have ever seen before. Matt pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked it.

"Where are we going?" We weren't leaving school like last time, which made me feel better, but I was still nervous about going into the catacombs with him alone.

"You'll see." He smirked closing the door behind me. We ascended the cement stairs until we could see the vast room before us. The flooring was just like the wood in the school's gym. "Did you know our school had a racquetball room?" His voice echoed slightly.

"No." I looked around to see the different cubes.

"I come here to skip class sometimes. I do like homework and stuff up here. It's so quiet it's deafening." He seemed so normal. For a minute, I felt myself fall for him. "If you go in the cubes, no one can hear you. Watch." He set his books down on a random bench and went inside one. He started talking, but I couldn't hear anything. They were soundproof. "Cool, right?" he said, opening the door.

"How do you have a key?" I inquired.

"I stole it from the janitor's closet and copied it." He smirked at his mischievous ways. I smiled too. It was cute he was showing me something important to him.

"Have you met the new kid?" I just threw the words out in the open. We were alone, giving me false confidence to ask. Immediately, I regretted my not-so-subtle question. His whole demeanor changed.

"No, I haven't," he answered sternly. I wanted to try to get in his head without endangering Chris.

"I have a class with him. I think he looks just like you and Nick." I played dumb and sat on the bench. Matt came over to me.

"Weird. I mean, Nick and I look pretty normal, I think." He shrugged and towered over me in front of me. "Wouldn't be odd if someone looked like us." He was smooth about lying. I wish I could lie like that.

"Matt?" I questioned his stance directly in front of me.

"Shh... Stop talking." He leaned into me. The pressure on me continued until I started lying down on the bench. He used his hand to flick the books to the floor so my back could lay completely flat. Matt was lying directly on top of me. His lips were on mine in a matter of seconds. I wasn't frozen this time. Instead, I was playing a risky game. I reached up and grabbed his hair lightly. He moaned and kept sucking my lips; the stubble on his upper lip was scratching my mouth. As much as I hated to admit this, it felt amazing.

"Wait." I pressed his chest and breathed some fresh air. He pulled back to look at me.

"What?" He almost looked irritated. I'm sure if I let him, he would fuck me right here without any hesitation. Other girls would die for that chance, not me.

"The bell rang." I lied. I couldn't hear anything but feared he would try to go further if I didn't put an end to it somewhere. He chuckled. It sounded almost sinister.

"Let's go, princess." He joked. He held out a hand to pull me back up. We reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the empty hallway. "I'll see you later." He kissed my cheek and walked off. I felt immense relief knowing I had made it out without Matt losing his mind. But as I watched him walk away, deep down in the pit of my stomach, I felt uneasy. I had to be careful. If not for me, for Chris.

I did a few normal tags on this chapter cause it was light.

TreeHouse is a series about Victim!Chris. Some chapters are light, others have very descriptive moments of ABUSE. If you choose to read those PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

[friendlylifecherry]

Kiyotaka Week Day 3: AU. Mastermind Ishimaru AU. Unedited, mostly

@mini-mecha-cowboy

It's rather late in the night and Taka is doing the old, familiar dance of speaking to Izuru inside of his dorm room. It's just that this time, it's through one of the Monokumas instead of with the communicator.

"I really have to say, Kamukura-kun, this was an excellent first day as Monokuma. I'm quite proud of your performance! I was actually pretty worried when you didn't want me to know what you were going to do for Monokuma, but your performance was actually very well-actuated! I’m very proud of you, Kamukura-kun!” Taka says as he changes into his sleep clothes.

Izuru rolls his eyes behind the monitors, mostly focused on putting together the assets for the first Monokuma theater. He knows that Taka is proud of him, it’s nothing at all new for anything that Izuru does. It’s not like Izuru has to bother putting on the act here.

“It’s nothing. So, what do you expect will happen next?” Izuru says as Taka brushes his hair and teeth.

Taka spits out the toothpaste after he’s done thoroughly scrubbing his mouth. “Considering that I know the others quite well, I doubt they will start any sort of murder anytime soon. But this first murder does have to happen within the week.” After all, the news cycle already has a million other things to focus on outside of updates about these children trapped inside of a school with a murderous robot bear, even with a 24-hour live feed. If he wants to keep the attention of the media, he better have it clear that this is not some sick joke by a cultist but the real deal.

Izuru nods as he integrates the background music in the Monokuma Theater. “Motive or do we force the issue?”

Taka weighs his options. Just forcing the issue through some form of blackmail would be easy, but it wouldn’t send the message that he wants to send. No need to make a point about inherent human desperation when the first deaths happened because it was literally forced onto them. On the other hand, someone does have to be dead by the end of the week, and if they wait around, they may genuinely be waiting forever. And Izuru sure is not going to wait forever for his promised entertainment.

“How about this? If a murder doesn’t happen within the next 3 days, you can use one of the motives. If someone doesn’t get murdered after that, then we can start forcing the issue! Would that be acceptable?” Taka asks as he makes his nightly final rounds before he heads to bed.

“Can do!” Monokuma cheerily salutes Taka. Izuru’s working with the audio equipment. You have to make sure that the voice sounds the same in the Theater as it does in the live feed, or at least similar enough. “So, who do you want to bring in for plan B? Maybe your favorite thug?”

Taka turns bright red and chastizes Monokuma. “Mondo is not a thug!”

“So you’re *not* denying that he’s your favorite? I thought that you were supposed to be “impartial and fair”, Ishimaru-kun?” Ugh, Taka can already feel his face get redder and the headache start growing. Why does he even bother with these arguments? He never wins them anyway. Monokuma continues as if Taka didn’t interrupt him. “How about Oogami? She’s big and strong, and pretty much would have to listen to whatever we say if it has something to with our hostages.”

“Oogami-kun is a good choice, but I doubt that the dojo would be good enough collateral.” A centuries-old family dojo is all well and good, incredibly important, and almost a holy ground for Sakura. But the fact that it was burned down in an arsonist’s blaze (unrelated to the Ultimate Despair) about 6 months ago and all the members have been scattered to the winds in the refugee crisis is a bit of a snag on the effectiveness.

“Not that run-down old dojo, dummy! I meant her little boyfriend. Well, little compared to her right now, anyhow.” That actually draws Taka’s attention from organizing his papers.

“I thought that Kenshiro-kun was terminally ill with a severe cancer diagnosis?” Frankly, with the collapse of medical services, he should’ve died a while ago.

“Nope! He’s still kicking somehow! Ain’t the world’s strongest man for nothing, the weirdo! Gwahahahahaha!” Monokuma laughs at his hilarious “joke”. “He’s actually the one we got in custody right now!”

Well, that certainly makes things much easier for everyone. Provable collateral and if there’s anything about Sakura that he knows, she would do literally anything to protect her loved ones. Even kill or die for them.

“Well, that’s perfect! You can contact her as soon as possible, correct? Maybe make some implications that we can keep him alive as well, to really sell it.” Taka wants this to be locked down by the time that he wakes up, after all. "And after that, please get some sleep! A healthy mind and body start with proper rest!"

"Fine, fine. I gotta go now, since she's just done meditating. Buh-bye!" And with that, Monokuma disappears again.

The light on the camera in his dorm room comes back on, Izuru must be focused somewhere else and done with the conversation for the night. Well now, it’s off to dreamland for Taka! He would be a hypocrite if he didn't get his rest now! And with that, he shuts off the lights and drifts off to sleep.

[fletching-scar]

74﹕ sender  cares  for  receiver  while  they’re  sick .

When he noticed that Shinon was waking up, Rolf quickly got to his bedside, leaning forward slightly. “Oh! Thank goodness you’re awake! You were tossing and turning and coughing all night… I was getting so worried…”

With a gentle touch, he picked up the towel he had soaked in cold water earlier and placed it on Shinon’s forehead. “You were burning up when I checked on you.. I think you have a fever! Oh, but don’t worry! I asked if you could sleep in.. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

He gave his mentor a soft smile, hoping to bring some comfort. Illness was always a creeping danger, even if their lives have gotten less chaotic compared to their mercenary days. Still, he wanted to make 100% sure he gave absolutely the best care he could. “I already made breakfast for you, so just let me know when you want to eat! I also got medicine, some paper to draw on if you get bored… just let me know if you need anything!”

Consciousness comes painfully to Shinon, slow and vile like rancid treacle. Heat--unbearable heat, and still somehow a vicious chill, and-- and Shinon hates being useless like this, and--!

And Rolf's little voice chirping in his ear, Rolf's little fingers laying a cool cloth on his brow.

Shinon can't remember... if anyone had ever done that for him. Back home, his sister might've... but no. They wouldn't've been able to spare the rags... Maybe Rhys did it, once or twice?

Ugh, the fever is thick, and with Rolf yapping--oh, it pains Shinon's old head.

But he doesn't say that. Just scoffs, weakly, and smiles. "Fancy y'rself a doctor, do you, kid?"

Breakfast, and medicine, and paper to draw on. Like you'd lay out for some sick child. Like you'd say I care that you don't die, and yet more, I care that you're not bored out of your damn skull.

Like he'd say for Rolf. Right?

Shinon shakes his head a little. "Bring me the damn food," he says, relenting, without chagrin. "An' then the paper. Maybe I'll draft a new bow for you while I'm laid up like this."

Yeah. Yeah.

It won't be so bad.

[magical-girl-coral]

Draft dump

"There's a no way for any of you to defeat! I am immortal! Invincible! The prophecy instead said that no mortal weapon can kill me-!"

A flying high tech wheelchair flew from above and landed on the villain's head, killing him instantly. From the corner of his eye, Ichigo could see Inoue sitting on Tousen's shoulder with Ichimaru by their side. All of them had different degrees of bewilderment.

Inoue snapped her fingers and gunned them at his direction. "Technically, not a weapon."

Ichimaru and Tousen joined in on the snap and gun, although it was obvious Ichimaru enjoyed it far more while the latter did out of pained obligation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nanao tapped her finger on her forearm in annoyance. She was ready to yell at Rangiku when she heard the call finally getting answered, but held herself back when a familiar voice picked up instead.

"Hello?" Came the drowsy voice of captain Ichimaru Gin. Nanao found herself slightly gaping.

"Ichimaru?" Captain Hitsugaya asked from beside her. "Why are you answering Matsumoto's phone?"

"Huh?" A few more sluggish noises heard, along with the vocal motion of someone gingerly getting up from their current position. It followed by a long string of curses in a language Nanao somewhat understood.

Ah. It all makes sense now. "Rangiku left her phone by your bedside so that she won't wake up from it's ringing before crashing at a guest room, didn't she?"

An aggravated breath was her only answer. "I'll get her in a few. I only have one arm so it's gonna take a bit."

"Take your time."

Ichimaru answered with a hum. From the sound of fabric moving, Nanao assumed he put the phone in his pocket. She heard footsteps, a something being filled with water, more footsteps, a door opening, and finally, a large splash of water followed immediately by a screeching Rangiku.

"Are you serious right now!?"

"Your boss is on the line." Was the last thing Ichimaru said before throwing the phone at what Nanao assumed was Rangiku's direction and leaving the room.

"Ugh. I can't believe he just did that."

Nanao's eye nearly twitched. "He is not known as Seireitei's biggest pain for nothing. You really should have seen this one coming."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kisuke hummed in approval. "Okay, now try to move your leg up and down slowly."

Orihime did as she was told, and looked surprised at how easy it was. With extra encouragement, she took a first few stiff steps with Ururu and Tessai both at her side in case she falls. Her footing was a bit wobbly, and it was easy to tell she wasn't used to the feeling of metal on her skin. But the braces didn't leave any red marks on her skin, The metal around her hips seemed to fit her perfectly, and the metal was thin enough to be able to hide under her clothes if she wishes.

She reached the end of her practice walk with a thumb up at his direction, and Kisuke finally let out a breath of relief he's been holding in for god knows how long.

Those braces will help on the days where the pain is too much to get out of bed, that much Kisuke knows from experience. But at least it's a good starting point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuru entered the house without even bothering to knock. He found his captain sleeping on his writing desk with various papers scattered around. Some of them were illegible and others were just practice papers for left hand writing. At least the paperwork for the division were in a nice pile on the side of the room.

He touched his hand to his captain's face, and signed when his fear was confirmed. His captain got sick with a fever, and instead of getting help or lying down, he started a new hobby to distract himself from the illness in the hopes the tiredness will eventually take over.

Izuru allowed himself another sigh before picking up his captain and putting back in bed. Noticing the carnage was even worse then he first saw, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

As much as Izuru is happy his captain's coping mechanism are far less self destructive then a year ago, he still wishes they were easier to clean after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What did you do that made him calm down?"

Captain Unohana stared at them in surprise. "You didn't know? I gave him a glass greenhouse."

The rest of the captains blinked at her. Kenpachi was the first to speak up. "A what now?"

"A greenhouse. Captain Ichimaru has shown a vague interest in botany once when we had a chance to chat, so I decided to give him one as a sort of experience." Captain Unohana paused to reach for some photos in her sleeve. Byakuya glanced at them, and was surprised at the beautiful array of flora. "His response was better than anything we could have hoped for. He was able to grow several flowers that normally needed extreme care to fully grow and he even helped come up with cures to fatal poisons and infections. It sometimes feel as a though he is making up for lost time."

Between all the photos that were passed around, Byakuya was distracted by the oddest one. It was Ichimaru being surrounded by young officers, all of which are seemed to give his words rapid attention. "Is he also giving classes?"

"Oh that is completely incidental," captain Unohana explained. "One of my men asked him about the herbs he was growing, and he went on such a long tangent that they decided to start taking notes. Since then, every few of my healers take lunch breaks at the greenhouse while captain Ichimaru raves about his latest success. I believe it's why the third has been on a popularity rise as of lately, among other things."

"Where did you get these photos, anyway?" Captain Kyoraku asked.

"A lady never tells her secrets," Unohana replies with a sharp smile, and all conversations fell from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jackie entered Yukio's realm with a flash and a whoosh, and was surprised to find herself in a odd control room.

"Where are the kids?" She asked Yukio. He pointed at the monitor screens above their heads. What was before them was an epic showcase of what every teenagers wishes would happen if they got trapped in a video game.

Orihime, Chad and Ichigo were all in separate room. Each of them had an electric guitar to use as a weapon and a low level army of minions to destroy under their feet. Jackie got in just in time to see Orihime scream 'I ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS' and swing the guitar on a giant like a giant cartoon mallet while screaming her little head off. Jackie grimaced. Should she really be doing that?

"Inoue-san put on pain killing ointment before entering the arena and she has her braces and stretches at any given moment the second the pains start again. And if you're wondering how this happened, all three of them were stressful about some upcoming tests so Kugo suggested to put them in battle royale stress room. It worked wonders," Yukio replied to her worries as if he was reading her mind or her expressions were that easy to read. He held out a bowl of popcorn. "Want some?"

"Please and thank you."

She popped a few into her mouth just as Ichigo threw his weapon like a boomerang at a flying enemy only for it immediately reappear in his hands. Jackie hummed to herself. Maybe she should give this a go.

[borderlineangeldisorder]

July 24

Today was a ♡ day nothing so bad Work was the same Short staffed to the bones for over an hour causing me to do 4 people's jobs as one singular entity on top of crying in the office over my bones on fire

Then one worker turned into a petty (their own words) bit not caring because they didn't get the position they thought they deserved Of course they apologized after but still 🦇

The cold air helped ground me on the walk to the train at least I got to unwind decompress before getting home to ripping apart my apartment for pest control tomorrow ( ˘ ³˘)♥ which is awesome and terrifying because my landlords stopped by to see my place and I absolutely hate hate hate having company especially them

I want to smoke away the burning breakdown of my skeleton but have to wait for them to leave and of course they have a bonfire in the yard going to burn down the trees they had to choose down due to the renovation going on next door which resulted in those trees to lose support resulting in them leaning into the yard

Ugh I just remembered I forgot my DVDs at work my coworker has been feeding me to sasciate my growing collection of physical entertainment ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Oh well I'm sure I'll forget again my next shift oops

I didn't get to see him today sad sad sad but he's excellent at always staying in touch with me which honestly slay of him for not being a barrel of red flags Hush paranoia

Now I'm sitting on my kitchen floor because I ate an edible which lasted about 20 minutes because it was stale hence the desire for once again physical embodiment of said entertaining my synopsis nerves

I'm out of toilet paper but I go for gold with my paper towels ( ´~｀)

I'm happy to be journaling It makes me want to burn the old ones but even if my mind forgets again physical embodiment of the abuse and torture I endured so I don't believe it was all a dream Never reading them

I want to start restricting again but I don't want to lose control and end up sick

Chronic illness makes it nearly impossible anyways I will shut down and get the shakes if I don't eat properly Guess that means I have to actually work out Shudder

[always-anxious612]

Close Calls Ch. 2

This is the last chapter of this but I may do more of this au in the future! Also please don't judge me for my accuracy lol. I only did surface-level research on wounds and infections :')

Description: The infection grows more serious, and Virgil has to drag Roman to the clinic before it gets any worse. Unfortunately, he doesn't quite succeed. In other words, Roman is stubborn, Virgil is tired, and everything goes wrong.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality

Warnings: panic attack, injuries mentioned, infections, homophobia menntioned, crying (let me know if I missed something or if you want something tagged!)

Word Count: 5,360

Chapter 1

The next day, I woke up a bit late, and, after hurriedly getting ready, began my duties as usual hoping Logan wouldn’t notice I was late. Logan was already in the clinic, as always, but this time Lord Patton was there as well. Thankfully, his presence saved me from a lengthy lecture. Patton was a well-known Lord in the castle, famous for his kindness and friendliness. Plus, he and Roman were pretty close as far as I could tell. Well, as close as a visiting Lord and a prince who only saw each other in formal spaces could be, I guess. They seemed to get along well is what I’m trying to say. Everyone at the castle loved him, though to be honest. Recently, I’d noticed he’d been visiting the castle more frequently and staying for longer periods of time, making a point to visit the clinic and say hello when he did. It had gotten to the point where he insisted that I call him Patton and drop the formalities while we were in the clinic. Logan had seemed to drop the formalities with him long ago.

“Um, good morning, my Lord,” I greeted Patton, still not quite being able to break the habit quite yet and trying to run a hand through my hand to make my bedhead more presentable. What so sue me, I didn’t have time to fix it that morning. I’d been up all night worrying about a certain prince.

“Oh, hi, Virgil! Good morning!” Patton grinned brightly. Ugh, how did he have so much energy so early in the day. I’d never understand morning people.

“I told you to just call me Patton, kiddo. No need to be so formal,” he added, coming over to ruffle my hair. Welp, guess fixing it had been pointless. Sometimes, I wondered if he knew we were the same age or if he just called everyone kiddo. From what I knew of him it was probably the latter.

“Um, right, so uh, is everything ok?” I questioned, awkwardly clearing my throat. “I—I mean, you’re not sick or anything, right?”

Sure, he’d been showing up here for a while now on his visits, but it never hurt to make sure. This was a clinic after all.

“Oh, no, no,” Patton assured, walking back over to Logan. “Just checking up on my two favorite physicians!”

“I’m still a nurse, technically,” I reminded him, though I couldn’t help but relax at his friendliness.

“Oh, Virgil, I meant to tell you. Today, you have the day off,” Logan finally spoke up, looking up from the papers he had been flipping through on his desk. So much for worrying about being late…Wait what?

“The day off?” I blanched. “But you always say that a doctor’s work is never done.”

I truly couldn’t remember a single day off since I’d started working here unless it was for medical reasons—ironic really.

“Ah, yes, well, Patton has expressed an interest in my profession, and I thought I’d take today to teach him a few things,” Logan replied, blushing slightly. Strange, Logan didn’t blush very easily…. I glanced at Patton and raised an eyebrow, trying not to jump to conclusions. If Logan understood what I was hinting at, he promptly ignored me, and I squashed down the thought. It wasn’t my business anyway, especially considering my own circumstances.

“If an emergency arises, I shall send for you, but soon, I’ll be taking Patton on my rounds to teach him to deal with less, um, life-threatening injuries and illnesses. You’re welcome to stay in the clinic if you’d like, but in case you need to find me, my list of patients to visit for today will be on my desk,” he instructed, clearing his throat.

“Oh, um, ok,” I muttered, already inching toward the door, “See ya later then, I guess. Bye Lo. Uh, Patton,”

I nodded a goodbye to both of them and waited until Patton had smiled and waved cheerily and Logan just nodded back to make my escape. Well, this gave me a chance to check on Roman at least.

Once I got up the many stairs and reached Roman’s room, I took a minute to catch my breath and look around before knocking. You’d think I’d be more used to making that trip by now.

“Um, your highness?” I called when I received no answer to my knock, glancing around again, just to be sure. When I still received no answer, I decided it was safe to just go in. Maybe he didn’t hear me?

“Roman?” I called after I made sure the door was closed behind me. Roman was standing by his window, studying the lush gardens outside, but he made no move to greet me.

“Princey?” I tried again, growing more concerned by the minute.

“Oh, Virgil!” He finally exclaimed, turning around a bit unsteadily. Huh, well that didn’t seem good.

“Uh, hey there, Roman. You doing ok?” I asked, already trying to examine him. His forehead was slick with sweat, and—though it looked like he had tried to cover it with makeup—I could see how flushed he was from across the room.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m perfectly ok, V,” he smiled, as I came closer. The closer I got the worse he looked. His eyes were glazed, and he looked a little out of it, constantly rubbing at his eyes. Plus, other than the badly concealed flush of his cheeks, he was concerningly pale.

“Really,” I deadpanned.

“Yes, really. You’re only a tad bit blurry!” he asserted before cursing as he realized he’d just given himself away, “It’s really not that bad. I’m fine.”

“Wha—Roman, that’s not fine,” I chastised, hurrying the rest of the way over to him as he blinked sluggishly. “Can you make it to your bed?” “No, because I do not need to be in my bed,” he waved me off nervously.

“Roman,” I growled, grabbing his arm.

“Truly, Virgil, I’m completely fine,” Roman insisted, pulling at my grip.

“Obviously,” I retorted when he failed to get his arm back, “Just drop the act so I can help you. I need to see exactly what’s going on.”

“No,” He snapped yanking away from me, “I said I’m fine. I-I have an important meeting with the council to attend about the raids. So, if you’re done, I need to be on my way. Good day, Virgil,”

“Don’t you dare, Roman,” I threatened as he made his way shakily to the door.

“Listen, just—just make an excuse. You’re the prince. I’m sure you can postpone the meeting.”

“It’s not my meeting. My father called it, and he’s expecting me. I’m very sorry, Virgil, but I have to go,”

Ah, so that’s how it was. If this involved his father, it was going to be a whole lot harder to convince him to skip.

Roman had made it into the hallway and halfway toward the staircase by the time I collected my thoughts and made it to the doorway. However, I didn’t miss the fact that he was hugging the wall the whole way there.

“Roman—er, your highness—” I cleared my throat, looking around quickly. It was strangely empty. Whatever, it would be a lot more trouble if I got caught with Roman looking like this than for not addressing him properly, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.  

“Roman, please. You can’t do this. You can barely stand up straight, much less last through a whole meeting,” I begged. Roman straightened slightly but otherwise kept walking making me tsk.

When he reached the staircase, he turned to glance at me before straightening once again and disappearing down the stairs. Groaning at his stubbornness, I hurried after him.

“Roman?” I called, getting worried when I turned the corner and didn’t see him. I made it a little over halfway down the winding staircase before finding Roman, leaning against the wall and panting. How the hell had he moved so fast and gotten so far ahead in this condition?

“Ro?” I asked hesitantly, eyes flicking over his slouched posture and glassy expression.

“May—Maybe I don’t feel so great,” He muttered before sliding unceremoniously down the wall.

“Princey,” I gasped, grabbing his arm and part of his shirt to keep him from toppling down the stairs.

“Hey, hey, Roman, are you ok?” I questioned, shifting to get a better hold on him and pinning him back against the wall. Roman mumbled a response too quiet to hear as his eyes fluttered.

“No no no no. Roman, stay awake, ok? Stay with me. We’re still on the staircase, I can’t get—I don’t—ugh, damn it, Roman. I’m not strong enough to carry you back up. Why didn’t you just listen to me,” I muttered, starting to panic.

It’s ok, it’s ok, I started coaching myself, taking deep breaths as I tried not to launch into a full-blown panic attack. just take a deep breath and think. It’s not that bad, I blatantly lied to myself, trying not to even entertain the thought of what would happen if someone chose this moment to walk down the staircase. I could do this, right? I could—I could at least get him to the clinic if not back to his room. That was better anyway. He needed medical care that wasn’t me, and besides, going downstairs would be easier than going up, right? At least that’s what I hoped…

I was wrong. Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this was easier than going upstairs, but if that were true, I dreaded to think how going upstairs would be. After I had convinced Roman to finally let me take him to the clinic—as if I was really giving him a choice this time or that he was alert enough to fight back anyway—I found myself carrying a delirious, semi-conscious Prince on my back. Unfortunately, no matter what direction you go, trying to navigate stairs with a whole person on your back is rather difficult.

“Remind me—to—to kill you—after I make sure—you’re ok,” I huffed, out of breath and already sweating. Roman didn’t reply, concerning me even more. How had he gotten so sick just overnight? It had to be the infection, right?

After what felt like ages, I reached the clinic and almost sagged in relief.

“Logan?” I gasped, kicking open the door. At this point, Roman was completely unresponsive and slack against me, making it even harder to keep him on my back. I quickly laid him on the clinic bed and frantically looked around for Logan before realizing he was probably already on his rounds.

“Are you kidding me,” I grumbled, going to grab a damp towel for Roman’s forehead. The whole point of risking bringing him here instead of to his room was that I didn’t know what to do.

Huffing, I gathered some bandages and supplies to check on Roman’s wound again. That’s really the only thing I could think of that could be causing this. Did the infection get worse? Just how bad? When I got the bandages from yesterday off, I hissed in sympathy. Just as I had feared, the infection was much worse. It—This whole thing was beginning to feel like my fault. If I’d done better cleaning and stitching it. If I’d noticed that he was developing a fever yesterday. If I’d convinced him to come to Logan. If—If…I took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts to focus on what I should do now. My hands trembled as I began thoroughly cleaning and sterilizing the infected area. At least there were actual supplies in the clinic, I guess.

            After I cleaned it, I set to work quickly, gently rubbing some antibiotic cream over the infection and making sure the stitches were ok. I’d have to make sure to change his bandages more often and to keep it clean so this wouldn’t happen again or get any worse. Next, I grabbed a cup of water and some medicines that should help with both the fever and the infection. This was the only other thing I could think of doing. The infection didn’t seem severe enough to have to remove it surgically or anything, but I’d be sure to ask Logan when he came back. The thought of him seeing how horribly I’d messed this up made me sick to my stomach, especially when the prince was the patient; but I knew it would be much worse if I didn’t get his help.

Sighing, I brought the medicine over to Roman and sat on the edge of the bed

“Princey,” I whispered, nudging his arm. Roman groaned and groggily batted my hand away.

“Come on, Princey, I need you to take these,” I coaxed softly, ignoring his swat and shaking him again. This time, he managed to squint his eye open.

“Do wha’?” he slurred tiredly.

“Take these pills, Ro. They’ll help.”

“M-My father. I have to—” he remembered suddenly, trying to push himself up and ignoring the offered pills.

“No,” I responded curtly, pushing him back down gently, “Your father can wait. I’ll even help you make up an excuse. Or you know, I’ll have Logan write you a medical note to prove that you have a fever and are not fit for work today. You—You passed out, Roman, I think that warrants skipping the meeting. Lean back and take these. Please.”

Roman sighed heavily but did as he was told and took the pills and water from me. His easy compliance told me all I needed to know about how badly he must be feeling.

After he gulped down the rest of the water, he ended up passing out again, leaving me to sit and wait by myself. Logan’s rounds usually took about two and a half to three hours because of the amount of soldiers the castle housed. More soldiers meant more injuries to check up on, and on days were the infirmary wasn’t full, or when the clinic was slow, Logan took his time to personally visit and check on every one of them. That’s not even mentioning the other castle staff that he’d tend to when illness spread throughout the castle or the fact that he had earned the title of royal physician, meaning that he also took care of not only the royal family but also any visiting noble staying in the castle. Needless to say, he had a lot of patients, and though he had other physicians and nurses that would regularly come and help him, especially when there was an influx, he usually preferred to work alone when he could. Today, no one was scheduled to be in the clinic, and no one was in the infirmary, so I knew Logan would be taking his time. With Patton there, it would probably take him even longer. He loved any opportunity to teach.

Sighing once again, I went to stand to get some water for myself when something warm clamped around my wrist.

“Roman?” I questioned, turning to find his hand holding me back. “Is something wrong?”

He grunted softly before yanking me forward, almost causing me to trip onto him.

“Cuddle,” he mumbled before I could yell at him. I felt my face flush bright red at his request.

“R-Roman, you know we can’t,” I protested, trying to pull away.

“Virgil,” Roman pouted, gazing up at me blearily, “Please?”

“We’re—We’re not in your room, Ro. Someone could walk in.”

“Please?” he begged, already struggling to keep his eyes open. I bit my lip hesitantly. He didn’t look far from falling asleep again. Maybe I could just cuddle long enough to get him to sleep then slip out before anyone could see us. Besides, it wasn’t as if anybody but me and Logan usually came into the clinic when it was closed anyway, and Logan was out on his rounds.

“Fine,” I gave in reluctantly as Roman smiled victoriously and scooted over to make room for me.

I couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped my lips once I was settled in his arms, making sure to be careful of his wound. It was just so warm and comforting, and the way he was playing with my hair…I absentmindedly snuggled into his chest and let the warmth numb my mind. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worried about Roman—apparently for good reason. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt, right? Besides, I was sure Logan wouldn’t be back for at least a couple of hours, and he was always complaining about the dark circles under my eyes and telling me to get more sleep. He should be happy I’m finally taking his advice. Unfortunately, my brain was too tired and too content to remind me just how bad an idea it was to let my guard down out in the open like this. Roman’s now steady breaths lulled me deeper into comfort and I felt myself slipping. It was so warm. This is nice, my mind almost sighed as I slid into sleep with Roman’s arms still wrapped securely around me. I should really learn to listen to my instincts more…

I was pulled from that warmth a little bit later by a rough nudge to my arm. Thinking it must be Roman, I groaned and shoved the arm away. The nudging paused and I was about to go back to sleep when there was another nudge—softer this time—followed by a voice.

“Virgil, you should probably get up.”

Oh. That—That wasn’t Roman’s voice. In an instant I shot up, inhaling sharply as I saw Logan and Patton peering down at me. No, oh no, no no no, how could I have let this happen? I should have never fallen asleep. I always harped on Roman for doing things that could get us caught but this was all my fault. What should I do? What could I do? Both of them had always been kind to me, but there was no telling how they’d react to this. Were they going to be angry? Were they disgusted with me? Were—Were they going to report me? What about Roman? I couldn’t let anything happen to him because of my carelessness. As my thoughts swirled around me, it became harder to draw air into my lungs. Once I realized that I couldn’t breathe, my chest constricted, holding back more of my breath. If it tightened anymore, I feared it would be impossible to breath altogether, but I couldn’t seem to collect my thoughts enough to loosen the knot there. My hands shook as I hugged myself, willing my panicked thoughts to go away. Obviously, it didn’t work. I saw motion from the corner of my eye and realized Logan was talking to me. Had he been talking this whole time?

“Virgil,” he coached, “Virgil, do you think you can take a breath in? Follow my breathing, ok?” more movement, to my left this time, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I tried to follow along; I really did. But every breath hurt. Everything hurt. My throat was burning. My chest ached. My head pounded. And everything was going wrong. Everything that I feared was happening. We’d been discovered. I ruined it. We couldn’t—I couldn’t—we just…half formed thoughts plagued my mind and my breath hitched as I realized I was crying. Was I going to be executed for this? 

“Virgil, dearest. Look at me, my love,” a different voice spoke up this time, but there was only one person who called me dearest and my love. I felt a hand touch my cheek hesitantly, then gently tilt my face until I was face to face with Roman.

“I need you to breath with me, Virge,” he instructed, calmly. “In for four seconds. Hold for seven. Out for eight, remember? You can do it.”

As he counted out the seconds, he removed his hand from my face in order to take my hand and press it against his chest. I struggled to follow along at first, but he continued breathing deeply and counting the seconds until I could. With Roman’s reassurances and guidance, I slowly felt myself relaxing.

Once the world came into focus again and I could breathe regularly without feeling like I was dying, I took one more deep breath before slouching forward into Roman’s chest.

“It’s alright, V,” Roman soothed, carding his fingers through my hair. Except, it wasn’t ok. Logan and Patton saw us. They know. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up and see if they were still standing there or if they’d already gone to report us to the king. The silence in the room made me inclined to believe the latter. I loved Logan, but he was very strict with the rules. There’s no way he’d let something as big as this slide. I was just another nurse, right? Instead, I sniffled and buried myself further into Roman’s chest.

“Oh, your shirt,” I lamented shakily, brushing my fingers against the wet spot that now stained the expensive fabric.

“It’s nothing, stormcloud,” Roman hushed, pulling me closer. I felt more tears burn my eyes at the action.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle uncomfortably in my chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dearest,” Roman assured softly. Liar. How could he say that when I was the reason we’d never get to see each other again.

“Um, pardon me for interrupting, my prince, but I believe this tea may help Virgil,” Logan’s voice offered softly from behind me making me jump. He was still here? Wait, he didn’t sound angry or disgusted. “Ah, um, thank you,” Roman responded, accepting the tea.

Taking a steadying breath, I finally pushed myself away from Roman’s chest. Roman handed me the tea before placing his arms loosely around my waist. I looked at the tea then hesitantly back to Logan. Patton stood behind him, worry swimming in his eyes. What was going on exactly?

“The tea helps to calm the heart rate and I find it to be quite helpful when I’m feeling stressed,” Logan explained awkwardly when I didn’t make any move to drink it. Nodding warily, I took a sip, relishing the calming warmth that flooded me when I did.

“Um, I also would like to apologize, Virgil. I did not realize that waking you would cause such a reaction. I should have been more careful,” Logan continued after a short but tense silence. At his apology, I couldn’t take it anymore. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

“Aren’t—Aren’t you gonna say something? A-About this?” I stammered out, hating how raspy and shaky my voice sounded.

“What would you like me to say, Virgil?”

I blanched at him, then glanced back at Roman who looked equally confused as I felt.

“I—Aren’t you, d-disgusted or—or something?” I pressed incredulously.

“Why would I be disgusted?” Logan questioned, tilting his head. I mirrored his look of confusion before setting my tea down lest I spill it with how much I was still shaking.

“By—By us? Or—I mean—m-maybe not disgusted but, you know, this isn’t really…accepted. I-I mean don’t you think it’s—wrong or something? I mean we’re both—and on top of that, I’m just a—I—”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted before I could work myself up too much, “I would never be disgusted by this. Any of it. By you both being of the same gender, or by you being from different social classes. I—You know that I’m your friend, right? And that I would never report you or anything? Even if I were against it, I couldn’t do that to you. I would never do that to you.”

At my shocked expression, Logan’s shoulders slumped.

“I take it you didn’t know any of that,” he sighed, looking even more miserable as I shook my head.

“I suppose that’s on me, then,” he frowned remorsefully.

“Lo,” I started, suddenly feeling guilty for ever doubting him. I never would have dreamed that he considered me a friend. I thought I was just another apprentice. He’s had plenty before me…

“No, no, I should have made it clear that I care for you,” Logan insisted. “Let me make it clear now.”

I shut my mouth and nodded for him to continue.

“Virgil, I have considered you a friend for a while now, and if you’d like, I’d still like to consider you one,”—he paused and I nodded frantically at the offer before he smiled and continued—“I care for you and your well-being very much, and I would never wish harm on you. I have no intention of ever reporting you as long as the current king is in rule. His methods and punishments tend to be a little cruel, and I never want to see you hurt. Nor will I report you for something that shouldn’t even be considered a crime. If Prince Roman is the one you love and you are the one he loves, then I support you fully. You cannot help who you fall in love with. If it is mutual and consenting, then there shouldn’t be a problem, social class or gender be damned.”

“That’s right, kiddo,” Patton spoke up stepping forward, startling me. I’d kind of forgotten he was there. I was really not on my game with being vigilant today.

“I won’t report you either. It’d be a little hypocritical of me if I did,” He smiled, shooting a quick glance to Logan. I wanted to ask him to elaborate on that last part but decided against it. I was pretty sure I got the hint, and again, it wasn’t really my business anyway.

“And I know that I haven’t known you nearly as long as Logan, but I’d like to be your friend as well if you’d like,” Patton continued, shooting me a beaming smile. I returned his smile hesitantly, though mine wasn’t nearly as big or bright. I don’t think I could fully comprehend what was happening right now. This was certainly not how I thought things would be going. Just a few minutes ago, I’d been getting ready to say goodbye to Roman forever.

“Ok, um, we—we can be friends, if, uh, you really want to,” I nodded, snorting as Patton bounced in place a bit and nodded happily. He was always so excitable, I couldn’t help but grin.

“You—You really won’t report us?” Roman assured, arms tightening around me slightly, “Either of you?”

“Of course not, My Prince,” Logan confirmed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness,” Patton chimed in.

“Please, just Roman is fine.”

Patton grinned at him and nodded, while Logan just raised an eyebrow.

“Alright then, now that that’s been settled, may I ask what you two are doing in the clinic in the first place? Is something wrong?” Logan inquired, studying the two of us.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s a bit risky to be cuddling out in the open like this, even if it was pawsitively adorable,”—Patton giggled at his own pun— “Wouldn’t it be safer in your room, Roman? Or somewhere hidden?”

“Ah, well—” I glanced back at Roman and at his reluctant nod, began explaining.

“Princey, er, Roman sneaked off to take part in stopping the raid on the nearby town and came back with a stab wound. He wouldn’t let me take him to you, Lo, trust me I tried,” I grumbled, taking a second to glare at Roman which he promptly ignored, “so, I tried to tend to it myself. I, uh, I guess I didn’t do very well. It got infected. Then I tried to fix it, but when I went to check on him this morning it was even worse, and he had a fever and ended up passing out. I managed to get him here and tried the best I could with mending it an everything, but uh, if you could take a look…”

Logan nodded at my request, and I scrambled out of Roman’s lap as he bent down to pull up his shirt. He quickly undid the bandages I’d wrapped and started examining it, asking what medications and ointments I’d used as he went.

“Well, you’ve done a remarkable job at cleaning the infection as far as I can tell. You gave him all the correct medicines and ointments as well. The stitching is also very well done. Keep in mind, Virgil, that the infection may not have been caused by you or by improper care. It could be internal body bacteria, or the fact that you did the stitches in an unsterilized environment under what sounds like not ideal conditions. All things considered, you did everything right,” Logan commended before leaning back and turning to address both me and Roman. I felt the knot in my chest lessen even more at his words even as I blushed at the praise.

“All you can do now is monitor the infection and keep it clean and dry and change the bandages often. Also be sure to avoid scratching at the stitches. They may begin to itch, especially because of the infection. I’d recommend avoiding heavy physical labor that could stretch or break the stitches as well. If you need an excuse, come find me and I’ll be more than happy to write you a note or talk to your father myself. You’ve suffered a very bad fever after all, even collapsing from it. I’m sure I could convince him you need bedrest,” he instructed, smiling softly at both of us. I blinked at him, pretty sure I’d never seen him smile so genuinely before. Huh. Today was full of surprises.

“Oh, also, take these pills for the next week, your Highness. Your fever seems to have gone down quite a bit, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll have Virgil keep up with your infection as he’s done an excellent job already and I’m sure you’d both prefer that.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman nodded, returning Logan’s smile and taking the pills that he offered.

“And I’ve told you a million times to just call me Roman.” He added with a huff.

“And I’ve told you a million times that it’s unprofessional to address you as such,” Logan tsked, sighing as he quickly re-bandaged his wound.

“Well then don’t do it as a professional do it as a friend,” Roman shot back, making Logan pause. He slowly finished up the bandages before taking a step back and raising an eyebrow

“A friend?” he questioned, crossing his arms.

“Yes. I believe this could be the start of a great friendship, the four of us. Don’t you guys think? Besides I’ve known you for years, Logan. Plus, I’m well acquainted with Patton already, though we’ve never gotten to spend much one-on-one time together. And Virgil, well, of course, uh, you know…” Roman cleared his throat blushing a bit. “Um, anyway, it’ll be nice, don’t you think? We can all just be here and exist together. No need for formalities or regard for social status or any of that. We can all relax and be ourselves.”

Logan took a minute to think it over before sighing and nodding softly.

“I—I suppose that’s acceptable,” he agreed, “You seem to constantly land yourself in my clinic anyway; so, it’s not as if I don’t get enough of you. It would be…nice to be friends.”

“Yay! New friends! I need you to know that I already love all of you so much,” Patton cheered as Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I think you just love everyone, Patton,” I couldn’t help but snort.

“Well, maybe, but you guys are special. I can’t wait to get to know you all more,” he replied, looking fondly at Roman and Logan who were now arguing about who-knows-what.

“Yeah,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes as Roman dramatically gasped and put a hand to his chest, “Me either, Pat.” Me either

[fangtastic-vampyra]

Reaaally hate how it seems I have to be "watched" by people from the system the whole rest of my life.

It's MKULTRA MILBAS targeted individual stuff. You know the people that they go after?

Those that would stick their neck out for somebody else.

You know. Yes. So. I have to do a Stinkin' re-assessment sometime next week, ish, Im like "Im in for a life sentence. Schizophrenia gets worse when you get older. Very few people "get better" [or whatever they think] whatever that means, not understanding why I keep having to do a reassessment." I mean, I really hate Drs, of all kinds, I can take care of my Fecking self, and I want them to Bugger off in general. It was creepy asf. What is so hard to understand, stop thinking shit in my head, voices, v2k, and then, making me feel like shit with uh military, weapons? thennn tormenting me in my sleep. LIEK IF I FELT BETTER, I WOULD BE BETTER. a poisoned, drug, prescription or otherwise, filled body, with emo. pain, and trauma, and not enough healthy meals, and shit, prolly aint going to be around very long. plus parasites and what have you. I CAN BE A SCREET DR. JKKK. Just a herbal supplement recommender. :] {been studying those since I was 16, got a lot of time behind me on that particular interest, yah, thats why got me all into trouble, rebelling against norms, well if Punch Line really is my ..mm.. hear voices saying dont go out with her buut...what could i get out of it? it will probably, if i dont try, end up like harley and me, im fubar.. F.U.B.A.R.} And that? Was Mr and Mrs Smith.

And she mentions the Govt program medicaid enforces it every 6 months. I'm like nooooo. Even though I know it's fake, and thats fake, I have too much rage, to not be on meds, but I don't think they're quite ready to let me only be on one anti-"psychotic" umm Vraylar and Seroquel, are my two, and we lol we -- are doing great.

Yes Im a plural, also. DID... MPD.

Anyway-- I think I "actually am" schizophrenic.. Not just a Fake illness.. But Idk maybe it's just damage from previous incarnations. Some lady read my palms and said I was reincarnated. Neat.

Meanwhile, I've gotten into some sick sort of reminescensing/revenge thing. Prolly the first male "plague rat" -- Waheyyy. Emilie Autumn fan. They want them young, to study, and observe, if ya know what Im saying. AND. They dont like to let folks go. Once they have ya. Since these bastards, think they are some type of Woman Inspector. I dont want Pig Ass Hybrids for my kids anyway, fuck off. I am no longer young, and a Cantankerous ass bitch, and One day, THOSE Fuckers, are going to compensate me, for all my TBC, and everything else. TBC/Thought Broad Casting.

WTF..!! THEY CRASHED MY BROWSER, I HAD TYPED LIKE FIVE MORE PARA. Yes. they got access to my puter. UGH!!

WELL HOW ABOUT THAT.. AND....GAWDDAMN.

Note to self/other authors, authoresses: WRITE IN WORDPAD.

Or something similiar.. There use to be one that had a black background. White makes me feel like I got a lined loose leaf paper with no.2 in a uncomfy plastic chair. YES. UNCREATIVE. Like. In a fecking institution.

Uhm what had I said... Mum also said people get sacrificed to the devil a bunch more than most think. She's kinda uh weird. yes. Used to be into goth, and horror, and metal, when she was Younger, and witch craft, lord knows umm, now shes just, Blonde hair, blue eyes. And everything else, normal, she wants to be Barbie. IDEK, this Family wsa NOT ready. She was just another Handler, my dumb ass thought fighting, was the answer. I want to SUE the pants off MKULTRA ( and associations/etc, off them.) If you know what I mean. Abuse. Trauma. Mum says it happens to boys just as much. OHHH WELL. IDK about that. Shes just another brainwashed handler. Tho.. pretty insightful if you can actually get her to say anything. Lol we're munsters, I got out the sun synchronization, or something ugh.

Im just nursing a wound. Not caring about anything else, but trying to stop the pain. I dont uh see any point in living this way? My head is aching like someones been smashing rocks against my skull for the past hour. "Okay ill stop" Like they harass and make fun of me as AFAB UNDESIRABLE. Fat and whatever, though they did it um. And call me a he/she, they did that to. And I just uh, want to punch something in the face that something is God, Idk, until it stops moving. yes. then i can be god. >.> IDK, like whyyyy me.

Why all of this. WHYYYY.

He says we are all equal, he says his thoughts are higher than our thoughts, he says the enemies are not flesh and blood, but spirits. Yes. SAYS humans are more close to him than angels, says this and that, that we have power as humans over the animals, and the demons. idk. somethings not adding up. i think he's a f*cking rapist. celebrating the black majick curses he places onto children. a pervert, a predator. yes. i try. to calculate what is going on here, i hadnt known what i know now, i rebuke the thoughts i had as a child, the gnashing of teeth, in hell, and that, i dont want to end up there. AND? I think he's a bully. There's always been a man.. sigh.. tiresome.. voice over my shoulder harassing me.

WHAT I WANT: To be the Court leader of the Neutral guise. Or herd or pack or whatever. *LOL.*

What should my name be? Circe.

brendan used the word "blessed" in association with the amount of food we have. Im used to high quality meals, this is like, yuck, sort of. I wish I could remember shit, I want to give up. There are no plans, Im jsut saying "i want to" im tired of hurting, im tired of suffering, tired of aloneness, tired of rejection, maybe showing vulnerability will help? Why are men attacking me? Idk, i think they are scared of me.. Tbh. I will get my one desire, to be my true self. And theres nothing they can do about it." If " they try to mess it up, I have my ways.

{Wow, have the inkling of intimacy / u might be a d00d, on ur page, I MEAN, AMAB, and got scammers messaging me "hot photos" and shit lololol. Im too lazy to remove. if they're not a native English speaker, some of the messages are pretty funny...}

[armpitnoodlejuice]

i wake up everyday and i say to myself…

you know this could be it.

and if it’s it,

is it ? Can it be the greatest day of my life even if it is the most painful day of my life. i don’t get how my mind works

i get how it works in the morning and i don’t get how it works at night. Waking up with a mind that’s lite, light, fright, heavy, sexy, ugly all at once. ugh can’t stand myself and i can stand myself.

i love and i hate how every morning i think everyone who has touched my heart and my thighs

giving a high and hives. i hate and adore you and him and her and me. Can’t stay made for too long, forgetting the evil and nonsense on purpose and now out of habit. my mind my mind my mind. you know this could be it! My last thought before death, i wonder what it will be. Probably something so funny. Probably something cool. Maybe 🤔 idk. i was so sick this time last year and i did think i was dying. It made me very bold. It’s one thing to be so sad that you ask for death. Another to be so ill that you accept death. Another to be sad, to be ill and pray and fight death to the death. To beat it and win over it. Option Vs possibility vs all of they above. i don’t know why it made me bold. I didn’t know what my operation would bring. But i just didn’t want to regret my death. I didn’t want to wake up on the other end and say fuck… what did i even accomplish. Why didn’t i enjoy life. Death will come for us all. My mother tells me everyday. Why does she say it so much … honestly i don’t know but i think that’s why i was able to be bold last year. I had the best year of my life when i thought i was dying. But here’s the thing. I am dying. So why did it take me so long to live until they told me on paper that i might not make it. Smh.

[rosemarytrash]

lil smoochin in celebration of the semester almost being over