#Boost Immune System Quickly

[xjulixred45x]

Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.

This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.

I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.

Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!

Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).

Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.

GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!

Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).

Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).

Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??

We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.

Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.

A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."

AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"

I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).

Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.

offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.

Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).

They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.

Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.

That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.

All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA

Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.

Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.

Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!

Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).

Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.

DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.

Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).

¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).

Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.

Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.

De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.

Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”

Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”

Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).

Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.

¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.

No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.

Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).

Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.

Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.

Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.

Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[reasonsforhope]

"People living with diabetes might have a new hope. Scientists have tested a new drug therapy in diabetic mice, and found that it boosted insulin-producing cells by 700% over three months, effectively reversing their disease.

Beta cells in the pancreas have the important job of producing insulin in response to blood sugar levels, but a hallmark of diabetes is that these cells are either destroyed or can’t produce enough insulin. The most common treatment is regular injections of insulin to manage blood sugar levels.

But a recent avenue of research has involved restoring the function of these beta cells. In some cases that’s started with stem cells being coaxed into new beta cells, which are then transplanted into patients with diabetes. Researchers behind this kind of work have described it as a “functional diabetes cure.”

Now, scientists at Mount Sinai and City of Hope have demonstrated a new breakthrough. Previous studies have mostly involved growing new beta cells in a lab dish, then transplanting them into mice or a small device in humans. But this new study has been able to grow the insulin-producing cells right there in the body, in a matter of months.

The therapy involved a combination of two drugs: one is harmine, a natural molecule found in certain plants, which works to inhibit an enzyme called DYRK1A found in beta cells. The second is a GLP1 receptor agonist. The latter is a class of diabetes drug that includes Ozempic, which is gaining attention lately for its side effect of weight loss.

The researchers tested the therapy in mouse models of type 1 and 2 diabetes. First they implanted a small amount of human beta cells into the mice, then treated them with harmine and GLP1 receptor agonists. Sure enough, the beta cells increased in number by 700% within three months of the treatment. The signs of the disease quickly reversed, and stayed that way even a month after stopping the treatment.

“This is the first time scientists have developed a drug treatment that is proven to increase adult human beta cell numbers in vivo,” said Dr. Adolfo Garcia-Ocaña, corresponding author of the study. “This research brings hope for the use of future regenerative therapies to potentially treat the hundreds of millions of people with diabetes.”

The results are intriguing, but of course being an animal study means there’s still much more work to be done before it could find clinical use. So far, harmine alone has recently undergone a phase 1 clinical trial in humans to test its safety and tolerability, while other DYRK1A inhibitors are planned for trials in humans next year.

Perhaps most importantly, the team will soon experiment with combining beta-cell-regenerating drugs with others that modulate the immune system. Ideally this should help overcome a major hurdle: the immune system will continue attacking new beta cells as they’re produced.

The research was published in the journal Science Translational Medicine."

-via New Atlas, July 14, 2024

[interstellarlyinlove]

Snitch (March 31st)

word count: 707

@wolfstarmicrofic

“Remus?”

Remus looks up from the essay he really should have finished last week. Sirius has just entered their dorm room. “Yes, darling?”

Sirius looks a little frantic. “You need to help me.”

“Are you okay?” Remus asks, getting a little worried. He stands up from his bed and crowds Sirius’ little bubble. He touches the back of his hand to Sirius’ forehead. “Do you not feel well?”

Sirius shakes his head and laughs nervously. “No, I’m okay. The picture of health, actually. Do you know I haven’t gotten a cold in about four years? That’s great, I love that for me. Hopefully I don’t wake up sniffly tomorrow now that I’ve pointed that out, though. Do you know where I could get some fresh ginger to boost my immune system? Lemon, too. Would Turmeric be a little overkill?”

Remus blinks. He tries not to smile but it’s almost physically impossible. “What do you need help with, Sirius?”

“I lost James’ snitch,” Sirius blurts. “Godric, Salazar, and the remaining two, he’s going to punch my face so bad..”

Remus blinks again. “James’ sni– why did you have it in the first place?”

Sirius sighs. “It’s so stupid, anyway. Why does James walk around constantly throwing a snitch in the air? Who is he trying to sleep with?”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Well, it is kind of cool. No one else has got one. I imagine it would help his pros–”

Sirius flicks Remus’ temple. “This is entirely your fault, you know.”

“Ow,” Remus says, “What are you even on about?”

Sirius kisses Remus’ temple. “Sorry. But it is your fault. I only took it because you said it looked cool the other day. I wanted you to think I looked cool.”

Remus thinks for a second. “That was not the other day. I think– was that last christmas? Or the one before?”

Sirius smiles. “I have lots of things on my mind, Re. You can’t expect me to immediately act on every single one. I’m a busy man, sometimes it takes a little while.”

Remus laughs despite himself. “I think you should act on what crosses your mind less, Sirius, darling. Especially when it tells you to do things like steal James’ family heirloom snitch.”

“No,” Sirius says, horrified. “Is it, actually?”

Remus nods. “Yes. Why do you think no one else has got one?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. We need to find the stupid thing. You have to help me, Re.”

Remus nods. “Yeah, sure. Where did you last have it on–”

The dorm room door opens again, and James walks in, golden snitch up in the air, buzzing around the edge of his glasses. He looks at the both of them. “I’m now realizing how glad I am that you’re wearing clothes. I should get into the habit of knocking, really,” he trails off, catching the snitch. “Do you have anything planned for this evening, pretty boys?”

Remus can feel the relief rolling off of Sirius. He grins. “Hey, James, can I play with your snitch for a little while?”

James shrugs, handing the buzzing little thing to Remus. “Sure. It does have a habit of flying back to me after a while, though,”

“You don’t say,” Remus says, grinning. He throws it up in the air and catches it quickly. “Do you think I look cool, Sirius?”

Sirius narrows his eyes at Remus, but Remus can tell that he’s trying not to grin. 

“You look so cool, Remus,” James says, winking. He sits down on Sirius’ bed. “Will someone play chess with me in the common room, please? I’ll finish your essay for you if you let me win in front of Lily, Remus.”

“Deal,” Remus says, throwing the snitch at Sirius. Sirius catches it with ease.

“I’ll let you win without you having to do anything in return, James,” Sirius says. He throws the snitch back at Remus.

James raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sirius waves him off. “You should learn how to accept good things, James. Lead the way.”

Remus catches Sirius’ eye as he’s exiting their dorm, James in tow, and he grins. Sirius grins right back, motioning for Remus to throw him the snitch again. Remus obliges. 

[dioslesbianwife]

I have a request you don't need to write it if you want

But can I request jofoes with a partner who has a stand like meduca and them finding out she was assaulted by a person when she was a nun and got blamed because it's her fault and her leaving the place

Like her becoming the definition of feminine rage and meeting her jofoes and becoming partners how would they react to her backstory.

Them being Imagen the jofoes with a partner who has a stand like meduca and them finding out she was assaulted by a person when she was a nun and got blamed because it's her fault

Like her becoming the definition of feminine rage and meeting her jofoes and becoming partners how would they react to her backstory.

Them being the only men she likes must be a ego boost for some and for the others she won't betray them or leave them and as long she trusts them her stand doesn't affect them long she trusts them her stand doesn't affect them🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

sure, i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

Dio

He doesn’t just sympathize- he seethes on your behalf.

The idea of you being blamed, used, and cast out by an institution that claims “holiness” disgusts him.

“Fools. They feared your power because they were weak. They broke you because they could not tame you.”

Dio is obsessed with your Stand. A Medusa-like ability that turns enemies to stone unless you trust them? To him, it’s art. A weapon born of pain and power.

It feeds his ego immensely that he’s immune. “Of course you trust me. I would never punish you for your strength.”

He tells you to embrace your rage, that you were reborn the moment you turned your back on that church.

He would kill the man who hurt you. Not quickly, and not cleanly.

You are divine to him. Beautiful, holy in your wrath. He worships you like a goddess of vengeance.

Kars

Kars listens quietly when you tell him. No interruptions. No questions. Just his unreadable stare.

“Humans are pathetic,” he says flatly. “They destroy what they fear. And they always fear women who refuse to break.”

He respects your evolution- from a shamed outcast into a walking embodiment of fury and control.

Your Stand intrigues him on a scientific level and an emotional one. The idea that it won’t affect someone you trust fascinates him.

When he realizes he’s not petrified by it, he doesn’t gloat, but you can see the flicker of pride.

“You have finally adapted to the world that betrayed you,” he says. “You are stronger than they will ever be.”

He would go back and rebuild the church only to burn it down with the man inside.

Yoshikage Kira

Kira reacts in quiet fury. He’s not the type to rage, but his hand tightens into a fist behind his back the whole time you tell him.

“That man deserved death. And the ones who blamed you deserve worse.”

You being a former nun surprises him- but it also makes sense. There’s something divine and untouchable about you that he can’t get enough of.

Your Stand is terrifying. He has deep respect for it. Killer Queen and your Stand are eerily compatible, like beauty wrapped in lethal power.

He doesn’t care about your rage. In fact, he admires it.

“You’re the only woman I’ve met whose fury doesn’t scare me. It makes me feel... calm.”

The fact that your Stand doesn’t affect him? It satisfies his deepest craving for control and peace. He knows he’s safe. He knows you chose him.

Diavolo

Your backstory deeply resonates with him.

“The world tried to erase you. But you survived. That makes you dangerous, tesoro.”

He sees your Stand as the ultimate safeguard: no betrayal, no lies, just petrification. It's a system he trusts more than people.

When he realizes it doesn't affect him, he doesn’t just feel trusted- he feels chosen.

“You trust no man but me. Good. That’s how it should be.”

Diavolo wishes he could erase your past so it can never reach you again. You are his queen of wrath, and he will destroy the world if it ever dares to hurt you again.

Doppio

When you first tell Doppio, he doesn’t know what to say. His voice cracks. His hands tremble.

“That’s... that’s not your fault. None of it was your fault.”

He doesn’t understand how people could hurt someone like you- someone so strong and beautiful and good.

Doppio cries when he realizes the trust you place in him. That your Stand doesn’t hurt him. That he’s safe with you.

He calls you his angel, even though your wrath could tear the heavens down.

He carries around trinkets and things to cheer you up. He’ll stand between you and your past like a shield even if he’s shaking.

Diavolo, in the back of his mind, is silently proud. “You turned your pain into power. And now you stand beside us.”

Enrico Pucci

He is still deeply religious, but your story makes his faith flicker.

He believes in salvation- but your story makes him question what kind of God allows such things to happen.

“You were not wrong. You were made an example by men afraid of your strength.”

He sees your Stand as a divine punishment- a holy plague upon the wicked.

You remind him of a fallen angel, and he sees it as his purpose to never let you fall again.

When he realizes he’s safe from your Stand, it reaffirms to him that fate has chosen him. That you have chosen him.

He would still pray beside you, even if your prayers have turned into curses.

Funny Valentine

He is both angry and fascinated.

“How cruel,” he mutters. “Even in God’s house, they destroy their daughters.”

He sees your pain as something to be weaponized against the unjust systems of the world. You’re more than a symbol- you’re a force.

He’d tell you that your rage is patriotic. That your survival is American resilience.

Your Stand fascinates him. He would study its mechanics but also find symbolic meaning in it.

“Trust is the foundation of loyalty. And you have given me yours.”

He'd use the power of the nation itself to protect you if he had to. And he’d make damn sure you never felt powerless again.

Tooru

Tooru is incredibly protective over you after hearing what happened.

“People suck. They see something beautiful and pure and they break it just to feel stronger.”

He loves how deadly you are now. He is infatuated with the way you carry your rage like a crown.

Your Stand scares him- he’ll admit it- but when it doesn’t hurt him? Oh, his ego goes wild.

“I’m the only man you trust? Y/N, you’re gonna make me blush~”

He jokes a lot, but the moment you’re triggered or hurting, he becomes quiet and attentive, never pushing, never pressuring.

He would absolutely manipulate your enemies into walking right into your Stand’s range. “Oops. Guess they shouldn’t have messed with you.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Cells at Work x Eri?

Eri was no doubt scared out of her mind since a bunch of cells started to yell and direct their weapons at her, however the Cells become confused about why Eri isn’t attacking since none of them are familiar with who or what type of bacteria she is or the fact that the White Blood Cells’ sensors aren’t responding to her as a threat

However, when the Bacteria that she came with started attacking, Eri tried to defend some of the cells, only for her Quirk to activate and give the White Blood Cells, Killer T Cells, B Cells, Macrophages and NK Cells a boost in energy while also healing their injuries and tiredness to a minimum

Eri is believed to be a Probiotic, a special type of Microorganism that helps support and boost the immune system by enhancing all the White Blood Cells to work better

She likes everyone, but her favorites are WBC, RBC, the many Killer T Cells, Platelets and the Macrophages (And is willing to help out the Platelets in construction by carrying stuff)

Eri adores the Helpful Bacteria as they’re so cute and cuddly as she shares her snacks with them (Probiotics support Good Bacteria)

-There was mass panic and a fast response by the strongest combat cells when you suddenly appeared, many thinking you were bacteria that was going to hurt them, but as the White Blood Cells and Macrophage surrounded you, weapons drawn, they realized there was no reactions on the White Blood Cells sensors, telling them that you weren’t a threat.

-You didn’t know where you were and you were quickly in tears, your little hands lifting to your eyes as you cried, which got several of the Macrophage surrounding you, trying to console you while others tried to figure out what you were.

-You introduced yourself as Y/N, but none seemed to recognize that name as a type of cell or anything that could be found in the human body.

-You were confused to learn you were inside a human body, and these individuals were all cells of different types, with different jobs and abilities, working together to keep this human body healthy.

-They were discussing on where to take you, since they didn’t know what kind of cell you were, when bacteria attacked, sending Red Blood Cells scrambling and the warriors, Macrophage, White Blood Cells, Killer T Cells, and others, ran in to defeat the bacteria.

-You were scared, unsure of what to do as you watched many of these nice new people being hurt, being blown back head over heels by these powerful bacteria.

-You saw one of the Macrophage get blown back, her weapon flying out of her hands as she landed with a sharp cry of pain and you ran to her, scared for her.

-Your horn started to glow, coming to life to the surprise of everyone around you as your energy surrounded her before moving to the allies, healing their wounds and giving them a boost of energy, giving them exactly what was needed to fight back and defeat the bacteria.

-When everyone was dealt with and cleaners appeared to handle the carnage, the Macrophage held you up as you seemed a bit flushed and tired.

-They decided you were a probiotic, a cell that boosts the power of the immune system, and while you were still confused, you seemed content in your new life, as you got to play with other cells, like Platelets and younger Red Blood Cells, being a normal child and you felt good that you were helping others.

-You did your best in helping where you could, no matter how small, even if it was just carrying paperwork around the offices that oversaw the management of all the cells involved with the immune system.

-Many admired me for your willingness to help, despite not looking as strong as White Blood Cells or Macrophage, and many were quick to adopt you, treating you like their child, making sure you were always safe.

-You’re still not completely sure how you wound up actually inside a human’s body, but being surrounded by so many who cared about you and treated you with respect was nice and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to stay here forever!

[leaderpinhead]

Malleus - A Deadly Hearty Soup

Day 14 of Fluffcember 2024 Prompt: Winter Soup (Fluffcember) Rating: General Characters: Malleus, Silver, Lilia

Malleus’s hair stood on end when Lilia presented the dish to him. “Dig in!” 

Lilia’s smile was joyful, but the black sludge in the bowl before him looked...deadly. Malleus coughed into his fist to hide his grimace when the stench wafting under his nose hit him. “How...delightful. And what exactly is this...dish?” 

“It’s a winter soup!” Lilia happily proclaimed. He looked so proud of himself that Malleus almost thought to indulge him in his strange new era of domesticity. Almost. “Baur’s daughter shared the recipe with me. Its her husband’s absolute favorite, and they have it after the first snowfall every year. I thought it would be perfect to warm up our little knight!” 

Malleus’s eyes darted to the seat next to him. The small child sat upright in a smaller chair strapped to the normal sized one. He watched everything in silence with large purple and blue eyes. Those eyes bounced between them as they each spoke. 

Malleus ignored the tiny hand making grabbing motions in his direction. "I thought human children this small drank the powdered milk.” 

“Apparently, he’s at the age where he can start consuming solid foods,” Lilia said. He spooned a mouthful of the sludge and pointed at each visible lump. “It has carrots, potatoes, beans, prunes, and dark chocolate to help boost your immune system! We wouldn’t want Silver catching a cold with the season changing.” 

Silver sneezed hard enough for a glob of snot to fly from his nose and land on the table. Malleus automatically leaned away from the human child, nose wrinkling. Lilia gasped and dashed across the small cottage to the bedroom. “My goodness! Your sneezes are getting more intense. Let me find a handkerchief to clean you up, then we’ll have some yummy soup!” 

Malleus waited until Lilia disappeared into the bedroom before making his move. He picked up both bowls from the table and held them in the palms of his hands. Silver emitted a curious gurgle. Malleus eyed the snot mixing with spit on the human child’s chin. “Do not misunderstand. This little hobby Lilia has adopted is your doing, but I do this for both our safety.” 

Silver loudly giggled. Malleus hushed him and quickly glanced at the bedroom. Assured Lilia was still occupied in his search, Malleus quickly summoned green flames to consume the bowls. The sludge inside the bowls boiled with large bubbles popping on the surface. Silver’s small gasp made Malleus smirk. He pushed more magic into the spell until the flames completely consumed the bowls. 

Lilia’s humming voice made Malleus quickly drop the bowls. Malleus tucked his hands under his thighs and ignored Silver’s happy laughter. Lilia appeared from the bedroom waving a lacey handkerchief. “Here we are! Let’s get you cleaned up...oh, my! What happened to the soup?” 

Malleus acted surprised when he looked down at the bowls again. The bottom of the ceramic was singed, but there were so many objects in Lilia’s cottage with the same marks from Malleus’s younger days. Surely, Lilia wouldn’t find it suspicious. “How odd. Did you follow the recipe correctly?” 

Lilia hummed. He wiped Silver’s nose and ruffled the boy’s silver hair before taking the scorched bowls back to the kitchen. Malleus patted himself on the back for evading suspicion. Silver blew a wet raspberry. 

Lilia popped back out of the kitchen with new, wooden bowls. His smile was wide and undaunted. “It’s a good thing I made so much extra! Now eat up, the two of you!” 

Malleus tried to distract Lilia long enough to pour his portion into Silver’s bowl, but Lilia wouldn't budge from his spot at the table. The only consolation he had was watching Lilia struggle to make Silver eat more of the soup after the first bite made the human child’s face wrinkle like one of the prunes floating in the soup. 

[sol-consort]

Smut for super earth! 🫡

Sir yes sir 🫡 Smut for democracy!

Launching Helldivers 2 smut in 3...2...1

C-01

[heavy smut, dom/sub, blood, slight humiliation, exhibition, penteration, aphrodisiac, objectification, use of military titles in bed, obedience kink]

[Dark themes, parody of fascism]

[Reader is a helldiver and gender neutral]

[updated, legacy version on AO3]

“Welcome aboard, Helldiver, and great job out there” the ship master held her clipboard as she went over your mission report, “the samples you've collected will be put to great use.”

Droplets of red follow your trail as you move past her towards the ship management screen. The usual heroic wind-flowing cape now sticking to your body, forming a silhouette of your armoured back, drenched in blood, both human and not. The ship master was polite enough not to comment on the limp in your steps, or maybe it was stoic professionalism that let her ignore the shortness of your breath.

Looking over the list of newly unlocked weaponry, it was difficult to decide on which weapon of destruction to spend your requisition slips on, especially with the aching pain in your leg. Each forced step sends a barrage of electrifying pain through your nervous system.

You've already been treated by the onboard medic. By all forms of regulations, your leg is technically service ready… only that you've exhausted your government-assigned monthly allowance of painkillers.

The doctor wasn't keen on describing you any, for that would be treason, Helldiver, wouldn't it? To steal from the government just to fulfil your own selfish desires, are you so greedy to take from the needy because of one measly injury? Those are not the traits of a valorant soldier.

Even as the pain was bordering unbearable, you knew better than to argue or haggle. Thanking her for her services, you limped your way out of the med bay—set up directly next to the evacuation shuttle landing zone for ease of access and efficiency—and onto the barebone elevator

Rations were running tight at the moment. They cut back on Helldivers' luxury medical comforts in order to fund the fight for democracy, mainly by boosting the research for the upcoming mech suits. Just what kind of enemies would require a mech suit when they usually throw you bare at Bile Titans, you wonder.

And so, having exhausted all other options, with the acute pain muffling any remaining voices of reason in your brain, your hand reaches inside a familiar pocket under your armour. Moving by pure instincts, you've done this a thousand times before. The stem injection fits perfectly between your fingers, or was it your fingers that moulded perfectly around its shape.

Head tilting to the side, the most vulnerable part of your neck exposed—akin to a show of submission seconds before a set of sharp teeth tear into their prey—with experienced movement, you swiftly stab the substance over a vital vein.

A shudder runs through your body as waves of adrenaline quickly shoot through your blood stream like a bolt of lightning, every single muscle in your body stiffens in response, pupils dilating, mouth agape under your helmet.

With the injection needle thrown somewhere on the ground, you latch onto the nearby monitor instead, armoured grip almost cracks the screen, wasn't it for the reinforced glass.

Finally, it washes down your body. A sigh of relief is all that's heard as you fix your hunched posture.

Back straightened as all the pain evaporates from your leg, the synthetic adrenaline aids the process of cell regeneration, rushing it is the goal.

Pumping the blood faster by pushing your heartbeat to the edge of the dangerous zone, tricking your immune system into attacking the faulty damaged cells.

With nowhere for the excess energy to go, the dosage bounces through your veins, a pressurised force failing to find any escape. It was meant to be taken amidst a battlefield where you can find release through spreading freedom in the name of democracy at your enemies, in the shape of an RS-422 Railgun, of course.

With no shooting ranges or infiltrating enemies to be found in the safety of your own destroyer ship, the excessive energy rushes wherever your body allows, blood filling every nook and cranny to the brim.

Heat flashes throughout different parts of your body, seemingly at random, sparks fly behind your eyelids whenever you close your eyes.

Eventually, simmering down as it settles between your thighs.

Reigniting your libido, a different kind of throbbing overwhelms your senses. Hyper-aware of the under-armour rough texture squeezing your body.

Left at the mercy of the smallest of frictions between your clothes and your flesh, the sinful stimulating rise and fall of the fabric above your chest offers with every breath you take.

Thighs turned into another erogenous zone; blood wasn't the only wetness seeping into your armour padding.

Heat gnawing at your core, cinders reigniting the flame of desire, of desperation, of depravity as your whole body is turned into one big aching bundle of nerves.

You don't make a single sound, pursed lips, and clenched fists. Resist the siren call, restraint by your own merits, discipline, and not much more.

What else is there to do but endure?

For it wasn't different from enduring the pain of a gaping chest wound. Laying on the battlefield ground whilst holding back waves of crawling terminids, each leg lined with razorsharp thorns, pistol quickly running out of ammo. A blazing spark descending from the sky above as the airdrop resupply approaches its landing spot, inches away from you.

You've signed away your body to be given for the cause long ago, for the future of Super Earth and all of its civilians. Naturally so, you've learned to endure and obey all commands, like the excellent little soldier you are.

Pushing your weight off of the desk, you head towards the navigation map at the end of the ship.

One step after another, the pleasure intensifies. Legs light as a feather, buzzing with energy. Brain plagued by an overactive imagination, heightened senses twisting every otherwise mundane sensation into a suggestive one-person affair, to squeeze any resemblance of sexual gratification it could from it.

The tantalising way your under-armour hugs your body. The stimulating pressure of the padding pressing between your legs, against the inside of your thighs and right over your chest. The sinful looking straps securing the metal plates.

Another step, your body is screaming at you for any relief from the overwhelming pressure building inside with nowhere to go. You're nearly blanking out from the overwhelming bliss.

A final step, and you've reached your destination. The familiar sight of the war map greets you, showing Super Earth at its centre, with the two enemy factions creeping in from the borders. The automatons hugging the figurative walls as their red territory crawls its way upwards the map. While the terminids are swarming towards the homeplanet of Lady Liberty herself at an alarming speed.

“Your fellow Helldivers are fighting on the frontlines for our freedom as we stand here.” The ship's executive officer found his way to your side—a routine the two of you grew into overtime—looking over the dwindling liberation percentage on the yellow territory.

His orders remain unspoken, yet were orders all the same. Go join the fight.

You're not certain about the legitimacy of these said orders. Can he give you orders? Is that something a ship executive is authorised to do to someone of your status?

… And what exactly is your status?

Foot soldier? General? Commander? An overworked janitor?

The ship is yours by name, that much is clear. It was handed over to you alongside the armour from another Helldiver who failed to evacuate in time before the shuttle took off.

But does ownership make you the Captain with a capital C?

You haven't even met the pilot of your supposed own ship. You've made acquaintance with less than a third of your ship crew so far, and that's with you being generous by eyeballing the amount of crew you've seen around. Who knows how many souls are stuffed with you in this floating tincan, merely hidden behind titanium walls.

It's been endless missions after missions, and anything in between is a hibernation blur spent in cryosleep stasis.

To prevent the Helldivers from being at less than their optimal physical age, prolong your lifespan, or years of service, which are basically the same thing. Saved hours add up over time and turn into days, months, and years! It's to get the most mileage out of every single Helldiver before their bell tolls.

With the side benefits of cutting down on unnecessary expenses like food rations, sleeping quarters, body maintenance, symptoms of traumatic experiences that rear their head during idle times, and shore leave.

The brief time spent at your own destroyer in-between missions has become the only waking moments when your fighting instincts aren't pushed to the limits alongside your sanity. A glorious sacrifice to upkeep the daily privileges and rights of humans everywhere.

The Democracy Officer must have noticed the trembling of your fingers, reaching across the map to pick the next destination. Your thighs unconsciously squeeze against one another, seeking relief through frictions, your body steadying itself against the round table.

He must've seen this case before in many soldiers like you, for he clocked you at a glance.

That's why you didn't question it when his hand went under your cape, arm wrapping around your back to help steady you, preferring you lean against him than the table.

Ordering you to follow him—not that you had much choice with your body being half-carried by him—with the same stoic professionalism… if only it wasn't for his gruff voice trailing into a softer tone. Was it your delirium at play, or are you simply noticing things you were once oblivious to.

Registering just how strong he must be under his uniform to be able to endure the weight of a helldiver clad in full armour. His arm kept you in place, and you didn't resist as he led you through the staff quarters. Unlocking the door with a simple face scan,

You were surprised with what you saw inside.

How long has it been since you've seen a bed?

An actual real bed stood before you in all of its mundane glory, barebone army frame, with a thin white mattress above.

It looks uncomfortable, but compared to your standing cryo freezer, it's a paradise of manufactured steel and cheap polyester.

“Now, I assume you're familiar with the rules and regulations set in place concerning fraternisation amidst ranks, Helldiver?”

The same hand that once steadied you, now was the cause of your downfall. A simple nudge with his fingers against the small of your back was all that it took to get you tumbling over face first into the bed. Your current state was a dire one indeed.

“It's highly encouraged.” You couldn't see his face, but you felt his eyes trail over your sprawled body without a hint of shame. Even with all of your armour, he managed to pin you with his gaze.

To boost troops' morale, cure homesickness, and prevent any deviating thoughts about returning to civilian life. Rule C-21 was put in place to allow soldiers to aid each other when it comes to stress relief activities, no matter its nature.

Of course, like any other activity that involved sexual Intercourse with another human, it required an immediate report in the aftermath to the ministry of healthcare in the form of paperwork. In the case that the activity could result in a child, extra paperwork is in order to request a permission slip that you could forward to the ministry of population regulation, which in turn will start your work towards getting pre-pre-approval for the right to create a child. Additional screening and testing are required to pass, plus an additional wait period depending on how many other people are requesting permission to repopulate during this year. All fall under the rule of C-01. Failure to abide by regulations might result in having the right to your reproductive organs revoked for not meeting the standards of civility expected of every loyal citizen to uphold the constitution of managed democracy.

Surrendering all control to your Democracy Officer, you obediently parted your legs in response to his hands taking hold of your hips, feeling down your covered thighs. Grip tightening as he lifted your body, just a mere inch above the bed, positioning you to lay on your knees instead.

Just how he loved to see you.

Face down, ass up, with your captain cape falling off to the side.

A moment passed where he just stood there, admiring his handy work. To have a whole Helldiver below you would do a number on anyone's ego, the saviours of the galaxy, the superheroes who ever so graciously sacrifice their lives for our freedom.

Your figure is a sight for sour eyes. This display of submission is certainly to burn its memory in his brain. Flash behind his eyes for years to come whenever you're standing next to him, peering down at the galaxy map, bending ever so slightly to assess the situation, oblivious to the cocktease that you're acting like.

His grip finally let go of your thighs, one knee climbing into the bed just behind you. You feel the heat radiating off his body, you wonder if he can tell just how wet you are under all of this armour.

The Democracy Office's index finger moves under one of your straps, lifting the elastic up slowly, before watching it snap back into place. Your surpassed shudder didn't go past him.

Settling on only removing the necessary parts, he unbuckled a select few of the straps, most importantly the belt to pants. His front pressed against your back, hand reaching below your stomach, taking advantage of your now exposed waist to bury itself under the armour of your torso, brushing by your chest courtesy of the tight space, and finally reaching the zipper just below your neck, the one necessary to peel off your under armour suit.

Sure, it means your upper body will be completely exposed to press against the cold rough metal interior of your armour, but surely you of all people can endure?

Bring the zipper fully down to have your most intimate parts completely bare, to compliment the view of your ass up, of course. Be thankful he left the rest of your body covered, a gesture meant to save you some face and offer a resemblance of dignity… then why did it just leave you feeling ever more exposed and vulnerable?

“You're dripping… making a mess already.” His voice cut through the silence, quieter and more breathy than his usual tone. Chastising almost.

True to his words, the inner lining of your under armour was shiny with your wetness, be it pre-cum or else. The rest seemed to stick to your skin, dripping down your thighs, making you extremely sensitive to the smallest touch. Even the still-air in this room brushing by you was enough stimulation to have your fingers digging into the mattress below, threatening to tear into the cheap polyester.

Faced with evidence of your extreme arousal and depravity, your Democracy Officer trailed two fingers from the side of your knee to the inside of your thigh. Scooping up as much of your wetness as he could manage in one stroke, carefully

Circling the rim of your hole with the very same fingers, encouraging you to relax. Repeating this process over and over to make it easier for your body to open up to him, for his finger to seamlessly slide in and out.

For lube was another luxury expense, an unnecessary cost the budget simply had to shrug off in order to allocate funds into the actually important places.

You laid there helplessly with not much to do, for he held the reins. You only had to keep quiet and obey, go along with his every whim. Not knowing what might be coming next, you were left anticipating the feeling of being prodded open on his fingers, unconsciously tensing up your muscles.

In an instant, a new wave of electric pleasure shot through you like a bullet, his cupping between your spread thighs, rough leather pressing into your most intimate parts, taking you by surprise.

Just from this simple gesture of having his hand there, not even moving it, you were gasping for air. All remaining walls of your self-restraint came crumbling down as primal desire took over, pure untainted lust dampening all your other senses.

Body moving with a mind of its own, making a display of yourself by grinding down onto his hand with no remorse or shame. The overwhelming ecstasy spirals into an addiction.

Mind blanking out, all forms of rationality, decorum, and courtesy thrown out the window. You couldn't care less for the fact you are his captain, that he was technically your inferior. The sweet friction against your oversensitive messy parts clouded your eyes with a glossy coat of lust.

He merely kept his hand there as you did all the work. desperately pushing against it in search of release. It wasn't enough, but he didn't make any effort to help you, preferring to keep you squirming in neglect.

It was nothing more than a temporary nicotine patch, akin to a band-aid against a gushing wound. Just enough to give you a taste of pleasure and have you pathetically grinding and seeking more. A distraction to unclench your muscles, turn your body pliant and eager to take him inside.

Just like clockwork, as you were busy humping his hand and chasing your own release, two of his fingers pushed inside you, lubricated by your own leaking wetness and nothing more.

Pushing them inside with enough force to have your body caving into the mattress below, sandwiched between his fingers sliding to the knuckles into your hole, and his hand cupping you.

Forcing sounds of pleasure from the back of your throat, whines, and cries muffled by your helmet .

His fingers are wet enough to reach further inside, fucking in and out of you at a steady pace that grew faster and faster.

Clear as day why he was deadset on neglecting your genitals; the only fitting time for any respectable Helldiver to cum, is whilst stuffed to the brim with the cock of your inferior officer.

Because that's what good little soldiers do.

The loss of the leather friction from below you elected an especially pitiful whine from your lips, only to be interrupted shortly by a sinful gasp as a third finger spread your insides even further.

With his hand now covered in your own wetness and pre-cum. In a rare tender moment, instead of wiping it on the sheets or returning the bruising grip on your bare hips, the Democracy Officer went to hold one of your closed fists with his own.

You couldn't feel his skin below the leather, he couldn't feel yours engulfed in metal. Yet he entangled your fingers all the same, his reassuring message was clear: he is here, with you, despite the many walls separating you two.

In contrast to this gentle show, the three fingers pushing in and out of you were brutal, never faltering for a second, never giving you time to catch your breath. Exploring your insides with a purpose, almost bruising in their roughness, the stem injection distorting all pain receptors into another source of pleasure was your saving grace.

The more the pleasure grew, the harder it was to think, to realise the world around you. The light in your brain was dimming as your view narrowed on your utmost basic carnal desires.

In this instance, all you care about is the feeling of being filled, stretched on someone's cock, anyone, human or else. To be thoroughly taken care of.

Paying no mind to your own quickly numbing knees, much like you had to crawl through dirt on the battlefield, kneel amidst the mud and viscera to achieve better accuracy on your machine gun, you could endure staying in this position for hours.

You were made to fight, your body honed for combat, endurance, and stamina.

Every scar painted across your flesh with a sharp brush is proof of every near-death experience you escape, with nothing but its claws scraping your skin as you slipped by. Celebrating another day of living by getting sent to an equally dangerous mission immediately after.

It puts things into perspective, doesn't it? How it is within your Democracy Officer's every right to act as rough and brutal as he wants with you. Because you'll take it, you'll take it with obedience, you'll take it with no fuss or qualms, you'll take it like you took all those souls without a hint of sympathy.

You'll take it like you took everything else the world throws your way.

Because taking it is your sole purpose in life.

It was decided for you, like everything else in your life. You don't need to ponder or get curious about anything. You don't even need to think because your government will do the thinking for you.

Relax, stay pliable and malleable. Just like you are right now. Put this position on a pedestal, and remember to present yourself in a similar manner whenever any governing power approaches your way, even if you outrank them. That this is exactly how you should be facing any difficulty and hardships in life, face down and ass up.

You're clearly not capable enough to make these decisions for yourself; you don't know what's better for you, we do.

You don't even need to touch yourself, just say the word and the closest democracy officer will bend you over the nearest surface to fuck your brain out In front of everyone, even with other helldivers in the room. It's their job, looking out for the helldivers’ wellbeing is a vital role all democracy officers must adhere to.

The armoury is already placed in the middle of the ship, after all, exposed for all to see much like your dignity each time you get ready for a mission. Everyone's already seen everything you have to offer, multiple times, all your officers and engineers, from the lowest ranking crew member to the highest ranking ship master, they know what you look like naked as the day you were born.

There is very little courtesy offered in times of war.

So, really, this whole ‘taking you to a secluded place’ ordeal is frivolous at best, a luxury, a privilege.

What difference would it make to have you pressed against the armoury wall? Haven't we already established that you have nothing to hide? It's more time efficient for the democracy officer to administer your stress relief in the middle of the ship, for any passersby to witness.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, drool seeping from the corner of your swollen lips as his fingers press down your tongue, holding your mouth open, preventing you from speaking coherently.

The engineers on the deck behind the railing resume their work like nothing is happening. As if the wet sounds of every thrust into you isn't echoing in their brain, as if your downright obscene pornographic moans aren't causing a fuse to fry in their brain, a dusting of pink to cover their cheeks, a tartness in their dipping productivity.

Don't worry, you won't have to face them. The second you're stuffed with the cum of your democracy officer, he's zipping you up and shoving you into the nearest landing pod. We can't have you missing your mission, Helldiver.

Landing on the planet with your legs all wobbly, body aching, your hole sore and gaping. Desperately attempting to keep all the cum inside, to no avail. You're too used, your hole can't close long enough before the cum leaks out, dripping down your legs, seeping into your armour padding and staining it permanently.

You're just going to have to fight like this, running for your life from falling meteors, gunning down nightmare fuel looking aliens that would love nothing more than to feast on your flesh, to trample you into a mush of blood and cum below.

Having to work with the teammates who just watched you take a generous load inside. Who heard the sounds you make while struggling not to finish embarrassingly soon with so many people watching you get fucked.

Then join them like it's nothing. Eyeing you up like a strung piece of meat, a predatory gaze hidden behind a shaded helmet, allowing them plausible deniability.

You know that they know what the growing stain between your legs is made of.

Circling you like wolves, under the guise of covering your flank. Their touches start to linger, pinching your thigh whenever one lends you their stem injection, groping your ass as you help them reload their heavy weapon, letting you go with a demeaning spank as a parting gift, just before another breach arrives.

You're the first on the evacuation shuttle, they insisted. Guiding you by the nape of your neck, giddy voices as they gave you an encouraging push inside, causing you to tumble onto the floor of the shuttle.

Not waiting for you to get up before filtering from behind you, one by one. By the time the shuttle takes off, you're kneeling its floor.

Face to face with their spread legs, all three heads turn to look at you. Using you to their heart's content in the brief journey to the main ship. Helldivers are supposed to cooperate together, so help them vent out the aftermission adrenaline from their bodies while the Pelican 1 pilot enjoys the sound of your gagging.

That's the humiliating fate that you could be subjected to. That's the life of a soldier you signed up for.

Instead, you're here, laying on a bed, in the privacy of a secluded room.

Having the luxury of getting prepared beforehand, of being taken on a subjectively soft mattress instead of the cold metal floor.

The privilege of working with such professional Helldivers that would never do such a thing during missions. I mean what's next? Helldivers throwing down eagle strikes right before boarding evac shuttles, or using the reinforcement as stratagems by throwing you into hordes of enemies?

Don't be so absurd, those things never happen; your overactive imagination might just land you a mandatory trip to a freedom camp for re-education, as a way to quell your… paranoid tendencies.

Taking you to his own quarters, giving you the exemption of privacy. Going out of his way to treat you with thoughtful kindness, your Democracy Officer must really care for you.

Just don't think too hard about how he's the one to call down the missile strikes on you whenever you stray a little too far outside your mission zone. Charges of treason of all, you know how it is.

How about… don't think too hard ever again?

That would solve so many of your problems, it would make your life so much easier if you'd simply give up this rotten part of your brain.

When has thinking ever done you good?

Stay the way you are, endure everything life throws your way. Keep saying yes to every order, saying no to every break. Keep showing up everyday and obey all commands. Fulfill everyone's expectations of you, and never dare have expectations of your own towards anything. Numb your brain, muzzle your conscience.

Be the good obedient little soldier that you are deep down.

An eager overachiever. A glorified breeding puppy with a cape. A killing machine that's powered by army rations and cum. A medal decorated floormat.

Three fingers pull out of you with a wet pop, your now empty insides desperately clench around nothing. As if you were robbed of a vital organ, a part of you that made you whole.

In all of your haziness and arousal drunk mind, a moment of clarity descends down as you scrounge enough self-will to stop yourself from whining pathetically like a bitch in heat, because it's not becoming of a ship captain.

Patience is a virtue you must embody, laying there with your ass lifted in the cold air. The sound of a zipper pulled down offers you a glint of hope.

Something big and warm slots against your back, squished between your ass cheeks. It slides back and forth, collecting your wetness along the way.

Your throat goes dry, breathing shallow, an agonising hollowness inside as you swallow down. You want to rub against it, want it to spear you whole, you need it inside you more than you need air.

It recedes far enough to rub its swollen head against your once-tight hole. Now gaping in response each time the head gives it a wet tap, slapping it against your opening, making your body quiver.

In your entire life, you've never wanted something more than you wanted this big mean cock inside you.

To feel it stretch you out and finally push you towards your release. Afterall you can't cum on your own, it's not within your democratic rights.

You must wait for permission in the form of your democracy officer's cock fucking you until the lights in your brain turn off.

Very early in training, you're taught never to beg. Be it for your own life against an enemy or anything else, for death is preferable to cowardice; cowardness is treason, and treason is bad.

Even when every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire from anticipation, even when you're being deliberately teased and toyed with for nothing more than another's amusement.

You're a Helldiver, and your job is to endure and follow orders. That's the only thing you're good for.

“Good job, soldier.” Your democracy officer's praise is shortly followed by the head of his cock splitting you open, the delicious stretch of being filled with something so large that it forces your legs to spread apart on their own just to make space for it.

If you reach down, and press on your tummy, you might just feel its silhouette rearranging your guts.

“Thank-” you attempt to stutter a reply, but the air is pushed out of your lungs as he bottoms out inside you. You've never been this full in so long. The less than ideal lubricant amount makes it burn oh so sweetly. For the second time, what was supposed to be pain gets turned into overwhelming pleasure yet again. You keep clenching around him as you adjust to his size. “Thank you, Sir.”

Adjusting your position, the democracy officer closes the remaining distance between you two. Your arms are pulled back, body forced into submission as they're held in place behind your back.

While the hand that was once inside you grips onto your exposed hip, what a docile little being you are, to be manhandled and bent around. Allowing yourself to be put in such a compromising position, truly helpless and left at his mercy.

Fingers dig into your hip leaving their marks behind, as if desperate to etch themselves into your skin, to leave some kind of trace behind, a showcase of ownership for all to see, a sigil that'll be displayed each and every time you change your equipment.

They'll know that you were the one being fucked and not the other way around. That you were the one bent over taking it inside like a champ.

Every thrust pushes you upwards the bed, moving your entire body with its sheer force before he drags you down by your hip and restrained arms as if they were a makeshift handle. Bouncing you back and forth, the creaking of the metal bed frame fills the room.

Your panting and moans would've joined, wasn't it for the helmet muffling the sound to everyone except your own ears. Forcing you to hear your own loud cries in crystal clarity as they echo back at you.

Every hiccup and groan digging into your ego, chipping at your self image, painting you as the obscene slut more than the heroic guardian of humanity.

Thankfully your ego is used to the bruising from being put in place each morning as you stood up and swore allegiance to super earth. They really do unfreeze you each day without prior notice, only for 10 minutes tops.

Ten whole minutes of you repeating how you're nothing more than a servant for democracy, carved stone to be stepped on for a brighter future in the ladder of liberty. Retaking your oath of complete servitude and obedience, a reminder of the autonomy you've surrendered to join the most special of army forces.

His thrusts are powerful and deliberate, a steady pace that doesn't leave you any room to meet them or wiggle away. Making it evidently clear that he is the one in charge, your inferior Democracy Officer. He could do anything to you, strip you naked and devour you like a beast in this bed, mark every inch of your body with his teeth and coat it with his cum.

And not only will you never object, but you'll thank him for it, accept his praise, and take it to heart.

Just how many details about this encounter will go in the report, you wonder.

Is it mandatory for him to describe how he defiled you? Precisely word and phrase how he fucked you? Conduct sentences to give justice to the way your insides milked him dry, spasming and squeezing around his cock with every thrust as if it was your first time getting properly dicked down.

Detail just how you felt, how your body fit against his own like a missing puzzle piece, how your fingers entangled, how he didn't have to jerk off, for he was stone hard the second the two of you stepped into his room. Pushing you head-first into the mattress to conceal the poking boner in his pants from your view.

Maybe he didn't want to scare you, maybe he did it so you wouldn't feel used. It's supposed to be him getting you off by filling you with his cum, then clock off.

Ideally, he should be the epitome of sterile professionalism.

You're supposed to think that this is solely about you. It's against regulations for him to enjoy this as well, let alone how blasphemous it's for him to dare and look forward to it, to get turned on at the sight of your own arousal.

Will he have to specify how he prepared you beforehand? How he didn't use any lube—not that there was any—just your own sticky wetness instead because he knew how much of a slut for pain his Helldiver is.

His Helldiver. You're his responsibility, afterall. Him, and the ship and the crew, they all belong to you, and you belong to Super Earth.

Is it note-worthy to mention how obedient and patient you were the whole time, how you didn't whine or make a fuss? How you still adorably addressed him as sir despite outranking him. How you let him tug and throw you around like you were a common whore instead of an honourable disciplined soldier.

Or does he only have to refer to the time-period in which he defiled you on his bed?

Management can just pull the surveillance camera footage, the same one in the corner of this room right now. Mandatory in each compartment of any ship, because you never know when a cowardly robot or a nasty bug could infiltrate the Helldivers' ranks. So there are cameras everywhere to ensure the safety of the collective, no exceptions made, ever.

For privacy is a small price to pay for liberty and freedom! Or are you so selfish to prefer having your entire crew killed without warning by a bug? Just because you didn't want to give up something as insignificant as personal space? Shame on you, Citizen.

As we all know, it's the people with nothing to hide who have nothing to fear. Could you imagine what people might get up to in their own time if it wasn't public knowledge for all to see? That's why it's important for the government to monitor everyone. It's for the safety of the collective.

For the many shall suffer for the sins of the one.

By now most of the stem injection aftermath has been fucked out of you. The adrenaline is wearing off, and you're growing more exhausted by the minute. How long has it been? You've lost track of time, brainless and limb, only aware of the cock abusing your overstimulated swollen insides.

The same brutal pace that he used with his fingers, only instead, it's a thick cock now, melting your brain into a mushy puddle of pleasure, rewiring your very being to memorise this moment for eternity.

You'll never be whole again once this ends, you've tasted the apple, and now you'll be cursed with the knowledge of just how good it can feel. A sprouting addiction nursed and nourished by your Democracy Officer.

You will always seek this out. He has ruined his Helldiver to everyone else.

You could fuck yourself with your fingers all you want, use toys or gun barrels. Nothing will ever match the real thing.

Let your fellow helldivers use you, sit on their lap and grind down, let them fuck you standing up, it will never be enough.

But… maybe, if no other human can… then maybe an alien—No. No, absolutely not. You will not dare go there. This is undemocratic thinking. Be grateful the liberty tracking brainchip is still in development, otherwise you'd be charged with the worst of crimes for having these oppressive thoughts. Even in the delirium of climax, you must be held accountable for all passing throughs in your brain at all times, whether your own or not.

This is as good as it will ever get. This is what true happiness feels like.

This is your purpose.

You belong with him, you belong to your Democracy Officer.

You're so close. The sweet relief you've been so desperate for is barely out of reach.

Collecting your remaining brain cells to try and form something coherent between all the moaning and whimpering, you manage to make a full word at last.

“Sir-I” a hoarse cry is forced out of you, his cock pressed against a rough patch of skin inside you that lights your nerves up. Almost pushes you over the edge, biting your lips you force yourself to resist the painful temptation to cum.

You attempt again “I'm close, officer. Permission to-” it's burning and clawing at your core from sheer intensity, threatening to burst at any seconds. You put all of your self control into holding it back as tears collect in the corners of your eyes.

You're pulled upwards by your restrained arms, now kneeling on the bed instead. Manhandled by your officer like it's nothing, despite all of your armour. Much like you ragdolled whenever a charger flung you around as you attempted to dodge being crushed by its claws.

Immediately, your body collapses. Deflating down, your vision shakes as you blink away the dark spots clouding it.

He steers you to fall back against his chest. Your neck limb as his shoulder carries the weight of your head instead, turned upwards staring at the ceiling.

With his chest pressed flush against your back, cock buried to the hilt, you meet his eyes through the tinted windshield of your helmet, not that he could tell.

With your arms released, they ache in protest before falling limb to your sides. He scoops you into his arms, wrapping them around your front, to steady you for the second time today, to keep you from falling to the side with your jelly-like knees.

How much the gesture resembles a hug isn't lost on you.

You trace the beads of sweat glistening against his face. A choking sound leaves the back of your throat as he begins moving again, thrusting in and out of you with his cock. Rocking your body up and down. With him caddying most of your weight, you're reduced to a fleshlight in his embrace

One of his hands brushes slightly below your stomach, pressing, pressing into your flesh, changing the angles of his thrusts. It takes you a moment to realise what he's doing.

Attempting to feel his cock bulging from inside you, to trace its shape below your skin with his fingers.

“Permission granted.” His own voice is breathless, unlike the collected tone you've grown used to. The very same one that you returned its greeting with comfortable familiarity whenever you approach the map.

The same voice praising you at the end of each mission, encouraging you before the start of another, that very same voice is giving you permission to cum, a subtle order that you will obey like all the others.

You've held it in for so long, it takes a massive toll on you. Stretching itself long as tears fall from the corner of your eyes, a miserable cry of overwhelming pleasure followed by another. Words of gratitude turning into an incomprehensible mess of yes-sirs and thank-yous

You look him in the eyes as you climax, he must notice your helmet slightly turning to get a better look at him.

Your executive officer watching waves of intense pleasure going through his captain's body, making you spasm, add to the mess on his bed.

He fucks you through it, cradles and rocks you through your painful jarring orgasm. Your once limb body is now a trembling overstimulated mess, all the whines you've tried to suppress so far are pouring out of you, mewling and hiccuping. Clumped eyelashes and glazed-over eyes.

All the injection has been flushed clean out of your system, now you must experience the sour aftermath of a sore overused hole, aching joints, and a dull throbbing pain making your intimate parts pulse against the sharp sting of exposed air.

Except, you're not done yet.

He is not done yet, your Democracy Officer must finish inside you to seal the operation.

You're much more honest when you're completely fucked out and drained of orgasms, much more reactive and vocal. It's highly stimulating for him, he can't tear his eyes away from you, can't register anything but the feeling of your malleable body still shaking against his own, your insides still convulsing around him as if you're still cumming.

“Sir, I need it. I need your cum inside me. I—” you don't want to beg, you can't beg, but you can't take much longer either. You feel like you're going crazy. “Ple—”

Hand cramping over your helmet where your mouth should be as if to shut you up

With one last thrust he makes you swallow your word before it's fully out. Pushing his cock as deep as he can, pressing down your stomach harshly, you feel a warm fluid filling out the deepest of your insides.

His last thread must have snapped.

A ring of white forms around the base of his cock, overflowing cum attempting to leak, as he empties himself inside you, refusing to pull out.

Your knees scream at you, numb legs and heavy feet.

His remaining hand on your stomach gives an experiment press, and your back immediately arches, a choked whine leaves your lips. The more pressure he adds, the more your insides convulse around the cock plugging you, involuntarily spasming and attempting to push it out with no space left for the cum to go.

The hold on your stomach turns softer, letting go of the pressure. Opting to gently rub circles around the now slightly-pudgy part of it. Enjoying the short-lived bulging while it lasts, the second he pulls out, all the cum will pour and deprive him of his favourite view.

Moving down to your hips and thighs, he squeezes them tightly, messaging the cramped muscles with a firm touch. Easing you into a sense of safety, melting away your stiffens, slowly pulling his cock out, inch by inch, dragging the whole process as your frantic breathing slows down.

Only the head is left inside, a sigh leaves him at the feeling of pressure weighing down against the tip, his cum desperate to flood out.

He almost feels bad about what he's about to do.

You thought it was over, anticipating the loud pop of his cock. Except it thrusts back inside, pushing in so fast when you least expect it, while your muscles are still relaxed, fucking his cum back into you.

It's too much.

You're cumming again before you realise it, now an involuntary reflex not under your volition anymore. Your cries sound less and less human, more that of a wounded animal. Your dry tears stain your cheeks, your body drenched in sweat and cum.

He's mean, he's so mean. You thank him for it, thank your Democracy Officer for his cruelty, stutter out a reply of gratitude because that's what good little soldiers do.

You're completely spent in every sense of the word.

One thrust, it took one thrust to steal your breath, to have you overpowered by your own orgasm again.

He pulls all the way out, watching the cum pour out, dripping down your legs, making a small puddle between your kneeling figure, feet completely drenched in the sticky fluid.

Before your insides could close, the same two fingers thrust back in and keep your hole spread open. The other hand continues to rub and squeeze your thighs reassuringly, as you push all the cum out.

Aware of his eyes watching you through this whole thing. Of his fingers buried deep inside, scooping the cum off your walls, much like he did to your wetness at the start.

It's humiliating, plain and simple. There is no other way to describe this. You had to be guided and ordered throughout this whole activity from the moment your ass was up until the second you're having your insides cleaned by your inferior officer.

After what feels like an embarrassing eternity of probing, you're finally pushed forward to lay flat on the bed. Your knees give out instantly as the blood rushes to them. Your arms ache, and your thighs are all sticky and wet.

He picks the hem of your cape, offering you a resemblance of dignity by covering you with it like a blanket.

Even now, laying on a bed, in a puddle of cum, you're reminded of how more comfortable it is than being frozen to sleep each night in your cryo chambers.

Your racing heartbeat slows down. The officer leaves the bed for a moment before coming back with a warm wet towel, wiping between your thighs and cleaning you out as you lay there.

You didn't see the point, any cleaned body part will just get dirty again the second he laid it back on the mess-covered bed. Still, he tried his hardest to wipe away all the sweat, cum, and even some of the crusted blood from your last mission.

He fixes your armour back afterwards, pulling your now ruined underwear back up. It's completely drenched, making you wear the mess you've made.

Your pants follow after, then under armour padding and finally strapping the armour pieces back into place.

The screen monitor on your wrist flashes, an invitation request to join a mission from a fellow helldiver.

You just laid down, but it seems the world can't give you a break. With no time to relish in the bliss that follows an orgasm, that luxury, too, must be sacrificed. Pressing the option to accept the mission, the coordinations get sent to the entire team as the destroyer prepares to make the jump across the galaxy.

The democracy officer extends his hand to you, and you hold on to it as you slowly get up from the bed. Taking the towel and wiping away any stains on your armour.

Your body pulses with soreness and aches in pain. Protesting your every move. You can't tell where the blood ended or cum started in the mess that is your cape, proudly showing off your Helldiver status as Captain on the back.

The Democracy Officer cups the side of your helmet, turning your head to face him. There's a look in his eyes that you can't place; it's too perfect of a poker face to make any details from.

He knows you can't feel it, and yet his hand caresses the side of your helmet with softness all the same.

Knitted brows above his glistening eyes as he attempts to meet your gaze behind the tinted windshield. Searching for a pair of human eyes behind the endless dark void of the helmet.

Do you remember the colour of your eyes? The destroyer doesn't have any mirrors.

Is he looking at you with pity? Or is it pride? These days, you can't tell these two emotions apart, be it in yourself or others.

He tilts his face closer to yours, eyes fluttering shut. time slows down, and you could count the wrinkles on his hardened skin.

Just what kind of life did he lead? What hardships did he endure?

What is the price for surviving this far? What is the cost of keeping one's life during a galactic war? Did he pay for it with his sanity, body?

Or heart?

Chapped lips press against the cold metal of your helmet, a small kiss. tender and fragile like a single snowflake amidst a hail storm. No one will bear witness to it, and yet it's beautiful for having existed at all.

It's over, just like that. Barely having lasted a second. A vulnerable show of intimacy.

“You did well.” There's more he wants to say, more questions he wants to ask, more time he wants to spend holding you. Give you a proper bath and bury you in his chest as he works out all the knots in your muscles. But it's clear he can't, not without repercussions, not with his position as your inferior.

Especially not with the camera watching.

And so he steps to the side, politely waiting for you to finish tidying up your uniform. The once clean towel is now ruined and stained, he doesn't mind.

His uniform was as pristine as ever, except for the few wrinkles standing out where he held you against his body. Still, he looked more put-together than your dishevelled state. Thankfully your crew have never been anything less than professional no matter what state you show up in.

He speaks one last time, the same reassuring hand going under your cape to pat your shoulder lightly “I'll take care of the paperwork. The galaxy needs you to save it, Helldiver.”

You're reminded of each time a fellow helldiver waited for you to reach the shuttle before boarding, each time one hugged you after a successful mission, tight enough to almost lift you off the ground as they laughed from the sheer joy of being alive.

Each time someone watched your flank for you, fistbumped you after an especially difficult fight. The weight of their heavy helmet on your shoulder during the evacuation take-off, stealing some seconds of rest, of actual real sleep and none of that frozen crap, dozing off cuddling to your side.

A stranger behind a mask, holding your hand and reassuring you that everything is going to be fine, knowing that making it out alive is nothing more than an optional bonus in all of your assignments.

His touch doesn't linger, and the world becomes colder after it's gone. Like someone turned off the sun, a familiar freezing numbness barrows in the hollows of your heart, urging you to forget the sweetness of Eve's apple and move on.

“Thank you.” Is all you manage to reply before the announcement chimes, requesting all helldivers to report to the hell pods. A timer starts counting down from 30 seconds on your wrist monitor.

Walking ahead of your democracy officer, your cape trails behind in a show of authority. Another Helldiver is off to save the galaxy and defend Super Earth.

[animeniac-writings]

Sickness - Sanji Vinsmoke headcanons

Anime: One Piece

Modern AU kind of, I was sick as shit last weak and could have really used Sanji caring for me :(

You Being Sick

Overreacts (with so much care behind it).

Sanji feels extremely guilty when you're come down with an illness, sure it's inevitable for everyone, but he can't help but think it's his fault- he should have made you healthier foods, something to boost your immune system, smoothies or supplements, he should have given you his coat sooner so you didn't catch a chill- his self blame is nearly endless, until you weakly ask him for something and he immediately shoots into gear.

When you do get sick he is your faithful servant, waiting on your every request, and fretting the entire time. He hates seeing you suffer and there's really nothing he can do to ease your suffering.

Definitely makes you chicken soup, Zeff did when he got sick when he was little and told him to "Just try it, you'll get better." when he asked 'why', and later explained that's just what you give someone who's sick, that it helps.

And he did get better, and wanted to know exactly why it helped, what was so special about chicken noodle soup? "Damn old man knew what he was talking about."

Tells you this while he's making the soup, you're fast asleep on the couch all bundled up, in clear sight for if you need him.

But his nerves are frayed, and it's far too quiet, with just the sounds of his cooking and your labored breaths, so he talks to you. He fills the silence and tries to calm his nerves.

Definitely called Zeff up, even at 2 in the morning if that's when your sickness hit, and wanted the exact recipe he his soup.

Of course he could figure it out himself, or tweak a recipe for guidelines, but...the old man's recipe works best. Even if he does sound like a sentimental fool.

Hates going to the store to pick up anything you need because that's far too long of being away from you and not knowing how you are, but he also doesn't trust anyone else to go get what you need.

Will buy only the best medicine he can find and makes sure to cover all your symptoms, and that you take the next does exactly on the clock.

But also worries because it's hardly working and giving you more is also bad, frantically checks a time sheet and clock to be sure.

He tries to make you as comfortable as possible, tissues and blankets and fluffing your pillow, anything to help.

He acts like you are on your death bed. If you even say you feel like you're dying, it goes straight to his panicking. You're already back in a fitful sleep but now he's sitting at your side changing the rag on your forehead and biting his nails that what if it's worse than expected??

Humidifier on and with some tea tree oil if you can, and will apply camphor rub to your chest and back for you, and massage it onto your feet and whimpers when that seems to make you feel worse.

Very stubborn once you start feeling better and getting restless, he wants you to still keep resting, that you aren't fully recovered yet.

Hovers. Almost worse that when you were sick, so worried about you relapsing for a few weeks afterwards, even when you insist you're all better!

Even manages to decline an physical advances to 'prove you're all better', as much as it pains him.

His chest aches when you thank him for taking such good care of you.

Sanji Being Sick

Sanji doesn't really get sick often, but when he does it's bad.

Not someone who can try and fake being okay because of how quickly and hard it hits him, as soon as he gets a fever he's burning up and dizzy.

You immediately notice and carefully guide him back to bed, you press your lips to his sweaty forehead to check his temperature and he can barely mumble something to you with eyes fluttering shut.

Hardly getting sick as a kid meant he never built up a good immune system, normally he was healthy as could be but when he was sick, it was awful.

He often become delirious, his mind dredging up memories of when he was truly small and making him feel even worse.

Needs your help with everything, from lifting the mug of tea your made him to his lips to half-carrying him to the bathroom.

He would feel so guilty about it afterwards, but can't remember much of anything that happened in the thick of it once he's better.

Mumbles in his sleep a lot while he's sick, he tosses and turns and you want to wake him from whatever he's dreaming but know he's needs the rest, instead sitting beside him and petting his damp hair.

You recall him once snarking about Zeff's brusque caretaking, but that he always made warm soup when he'd get sick, even into his teens. "Not like I'd needed it, I could make it far better after all."

Zeff was surprised to get a call from you asking for an old "special chicken soup recipe" of his, but was happy to oblige, even promising not to tell Sanji about it either.

No matter how he feels about your cooking skills there's a nagging feeling that he should make a pot of soup to bring over too upon the second he hears Sanji is sick again, and has to stop himself multiple times from doing so.

He also asks for updates on how Sanji's doing.

You mostly guess Sanji's symptoms and hope there's nothing you can't see when it comes to getting him medicine, he doesn't really have the energy to tell you what's wrong but weekly complies taking whatever you give him.

Hates feeling gross though, so if it's taking too long to get better he will try going to wash up and take a bath on his own, very bad idea but you catch him and watch to make sure he's okay.

Luckily tends to sleep through most of it, but when he wakes up for a bit he just wants to be able to see you, whether that's sitting up or laying on the couch just so he can watch you with bleary eyes before falling back to sleep.

Really thinks you are his loving angel to take care of him like this, even if you don't feel like you're doing all that much.

Once his fever breaks and the worst of it is over he recovers quickly, not one to have a cough linger, and you'll wake up from where you were beside him last night to find his spot empty and the familiar sound of pans clinking as the scent of breakfast waifs in.

Calls you his angel and the greatest nurse he's ever seen once he's back in health, and cheekily adds that he would have loved if you ever wanted to wear a nurse's outfit if he gets sick again...

His words lack usual gusto or the spark in his eye as he tries to cover up how vulnerable he feels about it.

You know how truly grateful Sanji is, for everything you do, and just press and soft kiss to his head and promise to always be happy to care for him.

He can never find the words to tell you how thankful he is.

[berries-hcs]

Old Habits Die Hard (pt. 2/2)

Welcome to part one of my first fic for here, crossposted on my ao3 Bugga_blue https://archiveofourown.org/works/59123362/chapters/150748117 Summary:

Maybe he was coming down with something? His vision did give him an immune boost, making him more resistant to colds that would take over the city as soon as the weather turned, but he had always been a sickly child. It had driven Crepus mad seeing Kaeya come down with something new every other week until his immune system finally adapted after years of living in the city. There were no other symptoms though, his throat wasn't sore and he didn't feel feverish. His thoughts were clouded and heavy, but not in the way it would feel if he were ill, it almost was like-

Oh.

The realization took him by surprise, enough so that he stilled in the center of his room staring at the floor where the was a patterned decorational rug that had likely been there longer than he was alive. It wasn’t unexpected, per se, but he thought he’d have more time before it set in fully.

Or, where Kaeya regresses for the first time in a long time without crashing and has to fight off regressing while on duty Word Count: 5k

Kaeya wished he could say it had been a fluke, but that wouldn’t be true. 

After that first day of feeling fuzzy, it was as if the habit had returned with the intent to make up for lost time. He and Lisa never talked about that night, but if the book left on his desk told him anything, he was willing to bet she had understood what it meant. He hadn’t read it of course, but bringing it back would mean he had to acknowledge what happened for her to have thought to leave it there in the first place. 

Regressing was quickly becoming a weekly occurrence, and yet somehow still managing to catch the Captain off guard. There were still occasional nights where it came on due to feeling overwhelmed or needing an escape, but more often it would start during the day, growing into the afternoon until he couldn’t deny its presence. There weren’t any specific causes he could identify for it, once a crystalfly that had followed alone him on his patrol route, another by Jean’s gentle and sisterly care coming to check in on him in the Cathedral after he’d taken a bit of a beating from a few treasure hoarders, even Albedo speaking scientific jargon at him about the alchemists newest line of research and experiments. But the one he was finding to be the most recurring and troublesome was the Angel's Share. 

More specifically, nights where Diluc was the one serving drinks to him after a long day at work. 

Kaeya was always able to keep up with the banter and jabs at first, sitting at the bar while they had what small amount of time they could catch up with each other without feeling too forward or out of place. But, the longer the night would go on- and the more drinks his brother poured for him, the more Kaeya’s brain would be lulled back into that hazy fog. 

It had started reaching a point where partway through the night Diluc would cut him off, thinking Kaeya was already drunk! Oh and how he would pout, both for the sake of his image, and also because the alcohol helped remind him to keep up with acting like his older self would. 

Diluc never had a good explanation for cutting him off either which was really starting to grate on the younger's nerves. It hadn’t slipped past him that it only occurred on nights his brain had decided to feel more childish and fuzzy, but even if he wasn’t always exactly right Kaeya was confident in still being able to act like his normal self when small well enough that no one would find him suspicious unless they knew what to look for. 

Tonight just so happened to be one in the same, Kaeya sat at a barstool up towards the counter, chatting with Diluc between the other serving customers. During the gaps he’d watch his brother diligently make each drink, serving them with efficiency and ease. One after another patrons drinks were poured and sent out in record time.

When he wasn’t serving, Diluc took to food prep and washing glasses while he and Kaeya made small talk. He couldn’t have told you what they talked about even just five minutes before, easily getting lost people-watching while sitting in the other's presence instead. 

He was well aware that it was happening, already able to feel the fuzz coming on after he’d finished his first drink, but Kaeya thought he was slowly becoming okay with it being there again. It took adjusting to, but it was something he had used to find comforting, so welcoming it back wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be. 

With a last sip the cup in front of him was emptied, one that Diluc took while squinting at the younger accusatorially. He didn’t replace it, even when Kaeya tried to call him back over to get his attention, bringing the glass to the sink to quickly wash and dry. 

“Hellooo~ Diluc, can you hear me all the way over there? Are you not going to get me another drink?” Kaeya asked, voice taking on a low whine as he obnoxiously waved one of his hands over the bartop. 

Diluc spared him a glance before his eyes moved back to the glass he was wiping down. “I don’t think you need another drink Kaeya,” he spoke with an air of finality. Usually benign spoken to in such a way would have a simpler customer huffing and moving on to the next bar willing to serve them, but Kaeya was anything but a simple customer. 

“Wha- What do you mean? My mora says otherwise, that was only my first drink of the night.” With an elbow propped up on the counter, Kaeya leaned against his first petulantly. “I assumed you’d remember that, you are the one who served me after all.”

Diluc scoffed- scoffed! Kaeya let his eyebrows furrow, the more childish part of his brain getting huffy at the denial this early in the night when he truly hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, can you at least give me a reason- a good one, for why you won’t serve your most valued customer?”

He watched while the other set the glass to the side, watching as the bartender reached for another to polish before looking up in disinterest. “Firstly, you are far from my most valued customer, don’t humor yourself. But if I must give a reason, you’re acting dumb enough already that I thought I’d spare you the drinks, it's obvious you don't need anymore.”

Kaeya let his jaw drop in offense, stumbling over his words as he tried to think of any good response but only managed a squeaky “That’s not true!” before Diluc had gone back to sorting his glasses. “What is it that I’ve done that you’ve deemed stupid? Not only is that not a good enough reason, but I’m hardly even tipsy. There isn’t anything I’ve done that you could pass off as me being drunk like you like to do so often.”

Something in his chest hurt, and Kaeya didn’t understand what he had done wrong. Even on his more annoying nights, Diluc had never stepped in so early, and truthfully Kaeya had just been sitting quietly and observing. There wasn’t a single thing he had done to cause a disturbance or rile up customers, things he had done before and only gotten off with a warning. The more upset he got the thicker the fuzz layered in his brain, though he tried his best to push it away. It wouldn’t do him any good to have his valid tantrum turn into something even more childish than he would have on a different day. 

And so he continues to pester, not relenting and even bringing other patrons to his side when Diluc didn’t seem to waiver in his stance. “Charles wouldn’t cut me off for good behavior, do you prefer me to be causing a scene? Is that it?” Kaeya asked, huffing and tapping his foot against the bottom of his stool. “You’ll only serve me when I’m filling the role of an unruly patron? Out of all the people, I would think you’d celebrate me wanting to sit quietly in your sight so I can’t cause an issue without your notice.”

Other customers eyed the pair with unease, most confused at the two’s dynamic or curious as to why the bartender would refuse service for seemingly no reason. 

With a sigh Diluc picked up a glass, seeming to realize how much attention they’d gathered, and quickly made Kaeya’s drink before sliding it to him over the countertop. He didn’t look at him, but Kaeya couldn’t help but stare at the other, not noticing how even once getting his way the pout remained as he sipped the drink. 

After the first time Diluc didn’t put up much of a fight when Kaeya asked for a new drink, which he was thankful for. It allowed Kaeya to fall back into the peaceful and somewhat hazy mood he was in before, soaking up the atmosphere and chatting with friendly customers while Diluc made their drinks for them. He thought that they worked great together as a pair, Kaeya keeping the customers distracted during rushes which gave Diluc more than enough time to make everyone's drink down to the last detail. 

If Diluc appreciated it he didn’t say, at least not with words. After the main evening rush had passed though, the older slid Kaeya a small plate of fruit and cheese. He spun around quickly after, but Kaeya was still able to catch the smile that had unwillingly curled on his brother's lips. Kaeya was finding that the fuzzy part of his brain quite liked this. It faded in and out a bit when he had to put on his persona chatting to customers for Diluc, but now it had come back full force with a pleasant buzz added from the drinks he had kept steadily coming. His feet swung back and forth on the tall stool, thumping against the footrest at the lower portion as he nibbled on his snack. 

Diluc began to chat with him again, telling stories about what different workers at the winery had been getting up to. Kaeya missed them badly, it had been so long since he had a chance to stop in for more than just official business, and even then any knights were scarcely allowed at the winery. At one time, when Diluc was busy fixing a large group’s drinks, Kaeya leaned down to let his head rest, using his arms as a makeshift pillow. The bar wasn’t slow by any means, but the main crowd had passed which left a nice hum of various conversations overlapping. The noise was soothing, and without conversation to distract him, Kaeya let his eye close. 

It had only felt like a few seconds before he was waking back up, arms stretching out in front of himself reminiscent of a cat from where he was still hunched over the bar counter. Something stood out to him however, the quiet. Kaeya looked around only to find the tavern nearly empty, nearly since the only person left was Diluc who stood to his side. 

The redhead said something, his own arms crossing with an unreadable expression on his face, but the words processed at a delay leaving the younger to blink up at him emptily, waiting for him to repeat himself. 

“Come on, I said let’s head out. Everything’s closed down, we need to get you home… unless you’d rather spend the rest of the night breaking your neck sleeping like that?”

Kaeya huffed, rubbing at his exposed eye as he sat up on the stool. There was something that fell behind him, but Diluc was quick to pick it up off the floor and wrap it back around Kaeya’s shoulders. It was… his jacket? But why was Diluc putting his own jacket over Kaeya, and why had it been there in the first place? 

“But…” Kaeya mumbled, looking once again behind Diluc to the empty room. “But it’s too early for you to close down. Where’d everyone go?”

It wasn’t making any sense, he’d only closed his eye for a moment. 

“They all left nearly half an hour ago, I’ve closed the rest of the bar and now it's time for us to leave as well.”

Something about Diluc was off but Kaeya couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His voice was softer, and while he’d gotten used to more than just grumpy looks coming from the other it almost looked like Diluc was amused or nostalgic, like he was remembering something pleasant. “Come on, it’s late. We should get you home now Kaeya.”

Kaeya got to his feet unsteadily, nearly tripping as his foot got caught on one of the bar stool legs before he could tuck it under the counter. Diluc steadied him, not even trying to hide the smirk that followed the uncharacteristically clumsy display. Before he could argue, Kaeya was being shuffled to the door, Diluc blowing out the few remaining candles as they passed them before walking them both out and locking the tavern up behind them. 

Looking down the cobbled pathway he was already bracing himself for the walk home. It wouldn’t be so far, but for some reason the trip felt much more daunting than it usually would, even compared to other nights leaving the tavern with his thoughts fuzzy from more than just being tipsy. He took a deep breath, bringing his hands up and lightly patting his cheeks, before taking his first step down the dimly lit street. Or, at least it would be his first step if Diluc’s hand hadn’t landed on his shoulder to stop him from taking off. 

The redhead shot him a confused look and a half-mumbled “Hang on a moment,” before tucking the keys for the Angel’s Share further into his bag with his free hand. “Let me walk you down, just need to attach them to the inner chain.”

Diluc was ready after that, straightening up and sending Kaeya a small smile as he moved to head down the same path Kaeya had been planning to take on alone. He even went so far as to look back after the first few steps when the other didn’t immediately follow. “Kaeya? Come on, let’s go.”

In lieu of a response Kaeya allowed himself a few confused blinks before moving to catch up, even more surprised when Diluc’s hand reached out to wrap around his wrist while they walked. Whether it was because he wanted to make sure Kaeya didn’t stop walking again, or just out of instinct Kaeya wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that it made him stumble on his feet enough to be glad for Diluc’s hand there to steady him with how quickly a wave of fog rushed to cloud his brain. It felt just like when he was seven or eight, Diluc tugging him along into the woods that lined the winery while their father worked to go play knights. Diluc had always been the one tugging him along, making sure he kept up so he wouldn’t get lost or hurt, not that Kaeya minded or wanted to be far from his newly found brother back then. 

By the time he blinked out of the onslaught of memories, they were already approaching his home. Personally, Kaeya couldn’t wait to be able to flop down in his bed. He was half tempted not to bother even changing out of his day clothes- even with fresh air hitting his face the sleepiness still weighed heavily with each step he took. 

Diluc was practically dragging him to his door, spinning to face him once they got there with an expectant look. 

“Where are your keys, we’ll need those to get in won’t we?” The elder’s voice took on a familiar tone. The same he used to use when they were both still in training and he thought Kaeya had done something amusing. Kaeya didn’t quite understand what about him needing to pull out his keys was so tease-worthy, but nonetheless reached to where he kept his side pouch to pull them out. 

Before he could reach in front of Diluc to put them in Diluc had plucked it right from his hand, unlocking it and pulling them both inside before flicking the lights on. 

It was bright, and Kaeya had to blink away spots from the sudden shift. Diluc didn’t seem nearly as phased, which Kaeya could admit made him pout. Instead, he was able to drop his hold on Kaeya’s wrist and move further into the house, leaving the knight standing off to the side of the entranceway rubbing at his one exposed eye.

After about another 30 seconds he was able to look around the room without squinting, finding Diluc carefully investigating the different corners of his house, even going so far as to wipe dust from a side table on his way to the kitchen. Without a word he was pilfering through Kaeya’s cabinets, pushing glasses out of the way as if looking for something specific. 

“What are you…” Kaeya trailed off, Diluc didn’t even turn to look at his half-mumbled and if he was being honest with himself, childishly sounding start. All he could do was restart and hope his brother really hadn’t heard. “‘Luc, what are you looking for? You got me home just, I just want to go to sleep now and you have a long walk back to the winery.”

“I’m looking for a suitable cup,” Diluc said, sending one of his well-known exasperated looks over his shoulder before turning and continuing to search through the top shelves of his kitchen. “I don’t trust you not to spill in the state you’re in now. I know you used to have one with- There it is! Finally, but, it's covered in dust Kaeya how long has it been since you…”

Kaeya watched the other pull a small cup out from where Kaeya had pushed it deep in the back of his cupboards. It was a pale blue, rather simple design outside of the few stickers that were faded and worn from years of use, then a lack of use in the more recent years, but what made this cup more ‘suitable’ as Diluc had put it compared to his other glasses was the lid. It was a children's cup that had a lid with a spout to stop it from spilling, and the sight of it alone brought heat to his cheeks after years of trying to forget it existed while being unable to make himself throw it away. 

That cup, he decided right then, was his newest enemy for the night. 

He tried to think of something to say, Diluc was looking at him expectantly, but his words were failing him as different excuses passed by his thoughts. 

“Um… That’s… not mine.” He mumbled, walking to the kitchen to try to stop Diluc from turning to wash it. Diluc scoffed and brushed off the attempt to grab the cup from his hands and turned the water on. 

“I don’t- Diluc I don’t do that anymore. I don’t need the cup just… just go home, you got me back here and-”

Ignoring him Diluc filled the cup up and twisted the lid on tightly. 

“You don’t do it anymore? Well to me it sure seems like you might. What was the nickname we used to use for you again?”

“Diluc you’re not- You’re not listening to me” Kaeya knew what name, of course he remembered, but if Diluc said it he might not be able to put on his act anymore, and he wasn’t sure how that would go for either of them. “I don’t do that anymore, I said. I’ve not for a long long time, I don’t need the cup.” 

Kaeya tried to pull the cup out of his hands, it felt much to dangerous and embarrassing to have Diluc holding it. Diluc wasn’t phased, just letting the younger try to wrestle it out of his grasp while bringing the other hand up to his chin in thought, as if Kaeya wasn’t trying to shake him to stop. “That’s it, Dewdrop, wasn’t it? Though I’m afraid Snowdrop might be a bit more fitting all things considered.”

If he wasn’t blushing before, Kaeya was sure his face must be bright red now. Not only was the fact Diluc remembered bad enough, he remembered enough specifics to know his nickname and make new one’s playing off of it. It was getting harder and harder to think, Kaeya knew realistically he was only slipping further into his headspace no matter how much he tried to fight it off. So much for thinking he was doing a good job at hiding it.

“I don't- that’s… That’s not me, you’re remembering wrong.”

Diluc tilted his head to the side, but the smirk on his face stayed. “Really? Could have fooled me, you said you didn’t do it anymore but you still can. You are right now, whether you admit it or not. You were always quite stubborn when you were-”

He moved from where he’d been holding onto Diluc’s arm, hands flying to cover his mouth instead. “No! I’m not- don’t. Don’t say it ‘Luc.”

Seeing how worked up Kaeya was getting Diluc softened, moving the hand off of his mouth and his voice shifting from that playful teasing tone into a caring one that made Kaeya feel like his brain was melting. “Why can’t I say it Kae? Why’d you stop regressing, it helped you a lot when we were younger. Can you try to explain it to me?”

Kaeya looked away. He didn’t want to have to explain it. 

Even still he let Diluc take his hand and listened when the other led him up the stairs and peeked at the different doorways until he found Kaeya’s bedroom. He let Diluc be the one to search his dresser to find pajamas and followed instructions when he was asked to change while Diluc left the room to get a drink of his own. 

But Kaeya couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts, not that they had any direction at the moment. He was stuck in a circle, but Diluc was here, and Kaeya was quickly finding it harder and harder to put on any type of a front even to himself. It felt painfully familiar, Diluc used to know every way to pester, to tease, exactly what buttons to push in and out of Kaeya’s regression. Knowing how much Diluc knew and could use to get a reaction from him only made the fuzz stronger. 

He wanted it, he wanted Diluc. He wanted to not want it. 

That was the main issue, wasn’t it? He wanted to not want it, but he did want it. He felt better in the months of playing around and fighting it off like some kind of game than he did trying to ignore any urge until it nearly stopped entirely. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on that thought when Diluc knocked before slipping back into his room, his cup in hand that he was sipping from. 

Kaeya hadn’t managed to change, getting too lost in his own mind which Diluc sighed at. He set his cup down on the taller of Kaeya’s dressers before sitting on the bed next to Kaeya and undoing the laces at the back of his corset. 

He did try to squirm away, blushing again at the gentle attention, but Diluc weaseled his hand down the front of his corset and landed a few well-placed squeezes that had him flopping backward onto Diluc’s chest to get away. It didn’t do much good when the hand itself was trapped in his own corset but Diluc managed to get the corset undone between Kaeya’s kicking and squirming. By the time he got it fully off Kaeya curled into a ball against the older’s side, residual giggles escaping much to Diluc’s amusement. 

“I see that method still works then?”

Kaeya had a feeling his glare didn’t quite land how he wanted it to when he was still red in the face and giggly, but he tried nonetheless. 

Diluc easily brought Kaeya back up to a sitting position, though still leaned against his chest. He didn’t fight it this time, instead choosing to hide in Diluc’s shoulder and absorb the warmth he let off, though he didn’t seem against it. He used the opportunity to free Kaeya’s ponytail from his hair and lean over to grab the brush off of his nightstand. 

They didn’t talk while Diluc slowly worked the tangles out, starting at the bottom and working up until he had to lean the very nearly asleep Kaeya up from where he’d been using Diluc’s shoulder as a pillow, much to the bluenette's chagrin. 

The movement was met with a whine and pout, but after a bit of prompting Kaeya let Diluc sit him up to brush out his bangs. Before he was allowed to flop back down, which was the plan, he said something though Kaeya found himself staring blankly at the other as the words failed to register. 

Diluc tilted his head a bit to the side and frowned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s nightshirt before repeating himself. This time Kaeya knew to expect him to talk so made sure to listen carefully. 

“Let’s get you dressed before you fall asleep in your work clothes, you’ll smell tomorrow if you sleep like this.” 

Kaeya whined but didn’t cling when Diluc stood, or put up a fight when he brought Kaeya to stand after. Diluc mostly encouraged Kaeya to change on his own, minimally helping during the process outside of helping to get his shirt off when the chain got tangled in his hair. Diluc let Kaeya slide his pajamas on himself, thankfully not needing any help to get them on. Even if his half-asleep self wouldn’t have thought much of it or even was registering the assistance already given, he’s sure he would have died on the spot waking up tomorrow if he’d needed help dressing. Worse he wouldn’t be able to even face going to the tavern for weeks. 

Diluc motioned for him to lay back down in bed, which Kaeya was fast to follow, huddling under his blankets and preparing to curl up when he saw Diluc turning towards the door and straightening his sleeves. Before he realized what he was doing Kaeya gasped, grabbing onto Diluc’s wrist before the other could step too far away. 

Diluc turned to look at him, his gaze questioning but quiet. He was waiting for Kaeya to make the first move, but Kaeya was struggling to bring his eyes past where their hands were, instead turning to look down at his lap. 

He knew Diluc was waiting for him to say something, but the words evaporated in his mouth the moment he tried to conjure them up. 

Diluc took a step closer again, putting a hand in Kaeya’s hair and crouching down to put himself in Kaeya’s line of sight. “Oh… You’re very young aren’t you Kae? I… Would you- Should I stay?” 

Kaeya tugged on his arm again, scooting to try to pull the other back into the bed. He wasn’t sure what Diluc was really asking, but he knew the word stay and that would have to be enough. “Stay. ‘Luc stay?”

Diluc crumbled, his entire posture softening as he crouched back down to be at face level with Kaeya, the act itself making him feel impossibly smaller. Diluc didn’t fight back when Kaeya grabbed his hair with one hand, he was saying something but Kaeya couldn’t focus enough to listen. He could make out individual words, but when said all at once they got jumbled in his brain. Sometimes Common was harder to remember than it should have been, no matter how long it had been since he’d first started learning. 

None of that mattered though. He was so tired, why wasn’t DIluc lying down in bed? 

Diluc pried his hand out of his hair and straightened up. Kaeya was surprised to hear a soft whine from somewhere nearby, even more surprised when Diluc shushed him. That… was him? 

Both of Kaeya’s hands quickly flew to his mouth, doing their best to stop any more shocking sounds from sneaking out. 

Diluc chuckled at the dramatics, moving to Kaeya’s dresser again. He was confused, but it wasn’t long till Diluc began to pull clothes out and hold them up to himself. Then it clicked, of course Diluc was going to need pajamas if he was going to stay over, how did Kaeya forget? 

The younger padded out of bed to the small closet space where he kept some clothes that were out of season for him. There were a few which were oversized so if needed he could layer without complication. He had a tendency to run colder than others without noticing, so between Jean and others, they always made sure he remembered to bundle up. 

Diluc followed him over, peering in before taking out a larger shirt and quickly trading it for his own. He must have found some of Kaeya’s loose-fitting pants in the drawer which would work well enough for sleeping in. It was only a few moments before Diluc was ushering Kaeya back into bed, his own cup being sat down next to where Kaeya’s sippy cup was on the nightstand. 

The redhead lifted the blanket, letting Kaeya crawl back under before laying down and trapping Kaeya on the inside of the bed. It didn’t matter though, Kaeya was determined to worm his way on top of Diluc the moment the other was even starting to lay against the pillows. Diluc only laughed at the eagerness, wrapping one of his arms over Kaeya’s shoulders to hold him closer. 

Kaeya, in turn, clings to Diluc’s shirt as if to hold him in place- not that there is much of anywhere he could go like this. When Diluc speaks he feels more than hears Diluc talking, letting out a small hum of his own to match before huffing when his pillow begins shifting again. He didn’t go far this time, only stretching one arm out to grab something, bringing it back to the bed to hold with both hands. It was a rather odd position for Diluc, but apparently, there wasn’t much else choice if he were to keep his arm around Kaeya still. 

And he was talking again, only this time he didn’t stop. Kaeya could hear something shuffle over his head, almost like a page turning, but it was too much effort to peel his eye open to see what Diluc was up to. Quickly, Kaeya was being lulled to sleep from the rumbling of Diluc’s chest and the sound of his voice. 

Waking up in the morning Kaeya found himself clinging to a pillow in place of human warmth. It was a slow process, but memories began to slowly fade in and when it finally clicked his eyes shot open to look around his room. Surely it had to be some strange hyper realistic dream of sort because there was no way what he remembered could truly be what happened. At least, he wanted to believe that before he stretched, hand knocking into the blue sippy cup on the nightstand. 

He scooted to the edge of his bed, the cup itself enough confirmation as he needed to send heat to his face, but more interested in the note that seemed half hazardously written underneath. 

Dewdrop, I hope you slept well, and understand I had to leave earlier this morning to return to the winery and tend to a few early morning tasks. Do keep the cup from gathering dust, lest I need to come dig it out again… though I don’t mind bringing you home from the Angels Share since this is seeming to be a habit you fall into there. We can talk more another evening, perhaps when you aren’t a child.

Take care,

‘Luc

Well, Kaeya thought to himself. This was surely going to be an interesting development. He looked outside, able to see where those in the city were starting to go about their daily tasks, shops opening and townsfolk mulling through the cobble paths. Maybe this being a reality wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 11: Welp I'm Late! Again!

Summary:Prowl escapes the tank.

Notes: This is more about mers and basic information and a heads up on the situation.

Prowl was shunning me. He did however shift over to the side of tank when Blaster came by. Then when I came by he’d turn around. This was not how I wanted things to go when I saw him again. I suppose I did get him locked up in a confined tank. At least he didn’t straight up jet to the other side and eye me warily like he did with everyone else.

The water was filled with dissolved supplements and medication to boost his immune system and help him to heal. Everything that went in was checked and double checked including food much like for the other one in the next room. However at least Prowl ate and rested. The other would pace despite his wounds and refused to eat anything we offered him. Fish was a no. Shellfish didn’t even result in any investigation. Cleaning out the decaying fish was troublesome with how aggressive he acted. He snapped at anything that entered to try and clean the tank. Lunged at the sides when anyone got too close. Ratchet was pissed that we had to drug him each time we had to clean the tank almost as much as the fact that he kept reopening his wounds. Aid was worrying over the possibility of infection and starvation.

I was sure Ratchet was getting close to the point of suggesting we tie him down and shove the fish down his throat. After a time Arcee suggested that we just don’t even offer food for a few days if he was just going to refuse it and boost his probability of infection. That was a straight up no and a lecture from here to hell and back. Then Eric, a.k.a. Mirage suggested live ‘prey’ to add some familiarity to the ocean. However that was ejected over the fact that there was no way he was going to be able to catch anything in his state even if it was a confine space. It was a good idea, but encouraging him to move was not. We were officially running out of options and force feeding was quickly climbing up the list.

Prowl was healing fine, but he wouldn’t be returning to the ocean anytime soon. Even if the other started cooperating and healed they wouldn’t be able to survive long out there. Then there was the fact that they would no doubt return to the bridge to cause trouble. It was where their nest had been and they all seemed pretty convinced that they were trying to take back the area. They did have nowhere else to go and it was hard to find a safe place to build a nest as it was and to find another when they only had one other pod member was suicide. They were stuck by the shore. The only other option was to try and merge one broken pod with another.

However that was harder than it sounded. A broken pod was wary and adding just one member was difficult as it was. Putting two different pods together was much harder. Sometimes it worked and other times, which tended it be more often, it did not and ended in a fierce fight if there wasn’t enough space. That was the reason there was one main tank that was nearly three times as large as a standard tank in the back that was commonly called the merger. Well Blurr called it the bloodbath behind Ratchets back. It usually kept them from fighting over territory in a new space. If they separated themselves from each other for longer than a two week period without any sign of curiosity of the other or others or showed too much aggression in that time it was a pretty clear indication that they weren’t willing to merge.

So far it was clear Geminus Avium or the dual winged mers that formed trines would not join a pod. They flat out refused to and only merged with others of its kind. Magis Avium or the winged would merge with practically any pod if accepted from both sides from what they had seen over the years. Very few pods that held a winged mer would rarely have more than one. Magis Parvus or the minis as they were dubbed would either be in a pod of just minis or they would seek out larger mer pods. Fractura Videte on the other hand were even smaller and they had a different relationship and were much easier. They would hatch together and stick together and find a larger mer in another pod and would obey only that mer from the pod. Latching on until ordered to assist in some way such as herding prey out of small areas and would be given a portion of the meal. There were other types like the practically mythical titans that had barely been seen in even passing and accidents. However the other types were pretty easy going and were willing to mix and match most of the time.

Nothing was going to happen, no merging, if Prowls pod mate over in the next room kept acting the way he was. Then things just got worse. He had just froze for a second, ear fins twitching, before he started whistling and howling loudly. Then Prowl had gotten active. Testing the tank and swimming up to the top and peeking out before going back under before whistling back in a more subdued manner. The constant noise from the larger one was giving everyone a headache and was just an annoyance for a time. It wouldn’t do to put them together in such a cramped area and we couldn’t just double the dosage in the tank. It would be too much for one of them, most likely Prowl, and getting them high and causing damage was not the goal. We could handle the sounds and deal with the situation until we could put them together. That is before Prowl had decided to leap up onto the feeding stand and drag himself down the steps and to the door that led to the next room where he clawed at it in frustration until someone came.

We had put them together after some debate. After treating Prowl from new scrapes from the stairs of course. Neither one would get enough from a single dose, but Ratchet had just sighed and said he’d work something out with Aid. No point in keeping them separated if Prowl was just going to escape the tank and the other was just going to ram the tank and howl. One of these days Prowl would probably figure out how to open a door and make it to the other tank on his own anyway.

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Masterpost

[phantoms-planet]

Barred Protection

Chapter Two

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It wasn’t hard, per say, to keep up his public persona at the museum’s fundraising gala, but it was beginning to agitate him that he hadn’t been able to get close to Percy Daelus the entire two hours he’d been there. Everyone and their dog wanted to speak with him.

It was understandable of course. People wanting to invest in the new company, or thank him for what he did, or try and schmooze their way into getting discounts and partnerships. That was just the way these things were at galas unfortunately.

“B!” Dick’s hiss was only heard by him, being that it was through the comms. “Go to the bathroom, Daelus is on his way there!”

Bruce quickly excused himself from the conversation he hadn’t really cared about. Thankfully no one stopped him on the way and he was through the door before the target, meaning he could ‘go to the bathroom’ and be waiting at the sink.

An odd skill to have, faking bodily function, but one that had come in handy more than Bruce would ever guess if he hadn’t been the one to employ the skill. It was just as he put soap on his hands that Percy Daelus stepped up to the sink next to him. The man was unassuming in looks. Brown hair and eyes, average build, no distinct markings like freckles or moles. He was the most boring thirty four year old Bruce had ever seen.

“Ah! Mr. Wayne? Goodness I never thought I would get the pleasure to meet you in person. I dreamed, of course, but never that it would be in a bathroom.” Daelus chuckled slightly. His face had lit up like he’d been gifted the world.

Bruce smiled as water flowed on his hands. “Some of the best meetings are in the strangest places. It’s nice to meet you Mr…?”

“Daelus! Percy Daelus, I own the Ameliorate corporation.” Daelus was practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on his heals a bit before soaping his hands.

“Oh yes, that new medical company! Brilliant work you’re doing, goodness knows Gotham has needed something like this for a long time.” A little flattery tended to go a long way with anyone new to high end circles. It certainly didn’t hurt right then.

Daelus beamed as he dried his hands. “That means quite a lot coming from you sir.”

Bruce opened the door for him. “No need to call me sir. I’ve heard good things about your company; I’ve been considering getting a consultation myself.”

“You look fit as a fiddle Mr. Wayne.” Bruce led him towards the hors d’oeuvres table. He both wanted Daelus closer to Dick for better analyzing and wanted something to eat.

“Well truth be told Mr. Daelus, it wouldn’t be for me. You see my middle child, Tim? He’s been having health issues after needing an organ removed.” Daelus’s face twisted into a sympathetic frown. “A mother at my youngest’s school mentioned her immune compromised daughter was feeling much better after receiving some of your medicine.”

He seemed to be genuinely proud at that. “Oh, so glad to hear it! You know, I could do a personal consultation with your son. You inspired me to make my company so it would be my pleasure to help him.”

Bruce had to quickly choke down…well, he wasn’t sure actually. He had been so focused on his goal that he had grabbed whatever was closest on the table. Whatever it was had a mild kick to it.

Pulling out his brightest smile, Bruce placed his hand to his chest. “That’s very generous, you don’t have to! I know being an owner of a company leaves your schedule quite full.”

“No no,” Daelus gestured vaguely. “I insist on it Mr. Wayne. I want to be sure everyone who needs our help gets the attention they need. And getting your son treatment so he feels better, maybe some medication to boost his system, it would truly be no problem at all!”

“Pull the overly protective parent bit B.” Dick suggested. “Like ‘oh but I feel better knowing exactly where my kids’s things come from’ or something like that. It won’t even be that hard for you!” Bruce pointedly ignored that.

He was a prepared father, not overprotective. Maybe. “Thank you very much. I’m not sure how I feel about the medication, however. Not that I don’t see how brilliant it is of course!”

Bruce let some of his worries show through. Truthfully Tim being compromised did make him anxious if he had to admit it, really what good parent wouldn’t be worried after their child lost a spleen. “But I really like to vet everything my kids take personally. Meet the scientists, tour the business, all that. They’re the most important thing in my life, you see, and I want to be sure they get the best there is.

Daelus nodded quite sternly. “I understand completely Mr. Wayne. Our children are our future; you can’t play around with their lives like a game. It’s incredibly admirable that you would keep track of these things so closely just for their health.”

“I don’t normally offer this,” Daelus held a hand to his chest with a warm smile that didn’t quite fully reach his eyes. “But we could arrange a tour so you can feel secure with our products.

 Yes! Bruce waved the thought away as if it weren’t exactly what he had been aiming for. “I wouldn’t want to ask too much by asking to poke my nose into your company’s workings.”

“Oh no Mr. Wayne, nothing would be asking too much from you!”

“Bet you twenty he’s just trying to get you as a financial backer. He’s laying this on really thick.”

Bruce was inclined to agree with his oldest. “Well, if you’re sure; it would be delightful to see how your brilliant scientists create these medicines. And if it helps Tim, and others of course, I would be more than happy to put some donations in to help further the research.’

Daelus flashed another million-dollar smile. “That’s very generous of you! Tell me when you’re next free and I’ll clear the whole day for you. Better yet,” He pulled out a card. “You can call whenever you would like and I’ll drop everything!”

[fitnessnirvana]

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT LOSING WEIGHT FAST ( PART1)

Once you've decided to begin a weight reduction journey, it's quite simple to become impatient since you want to see results as soon as possible, reach your goals, and reduce your weight as quickly as possible. Numerous diet and exercise plans claim to be the fastest method to lose weight, but how realistic, successful, and—above all—healthy is swift weight loss?

Is fast weight loss healthy? 

It's crucial to remember that each person is unique and that what suits one person may not be suitable for another. Everyone has distinct bodies, objectives, and procedures. Similar to this, a healthy strategy for one person may not be the same for another. For example, a heavier individual carrying more fat may anticipate losing weight faster than someone merely looking to shed a few pounds.

The strategies you choose and the speed at which you lose weight will often determine how healthy your weight reduction is. Your weight loss is probably good if you're maintaining a reasonable calorie intake, making sure your diet is balanced, and engaging in strenuous exercise without wearing yourself or your body out. On the other hand, if you're drastically cutting calories below what's advised, you may be losing weight fast but not in a healthy method that could be harmful to your body.

What are the risks of losing weight too fast?

Losing weight too fast can carry some risks, such as: 

Unsustainability

It can be quite challenging to maintain a rigorous diet and exercise routine over time while trying to reduce weight quickly. It's more of a temporary solution than a lifestyle shift. For instance, crash diets can be incredibly unsustainable and put you at risk of gaining back the weight you lost after you resume your normal eating routine.

Electrolyte imbalance

This occurs when the electrolyte balance in your diet is off (sodium, potassium, chloride, magnesium, and phosphate, for example). These are essential elements that support many crucial functions of your body, including the immune system, blood sugar, blood pressure, bone health, digestion, and the functions of your muscles and nerves. Although variations in electrolyte levels are normal, tampering with the balance your body needs to function regularly may cause problems like cramps, fever, dyspnea, exhaustion, disorientation, migraines, irregular heartbeats, and convulsions.

Malnutrition

Similar to electrolytes, a diet rich in nutrients provides your body with all the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients it needs to stay happy, healthy, and fit. You may be experiencing the symptoms of deficiencies and missing out on important nutritional benefits if you severely restrict your diet. Cutting carbs, for instance, can indicate a lack of fiber, which can cause nausea, constipation, or blood sugar swings; eliminating dairy entirely from your diet can indicate a calcium shortage, which can cause brittle bones or even osteoporosis. To ensure that your body gets the energy and minerals it needs to thrive, it's important to carefully analyze any dietary changes and look for substitutes.

Decreased muscle mass

The body may occasionally turn to muscle mass as a source of fuel when you lose weight too quickly. Therefore, you're actually losing essential muscle mass even though you're theoretically lowering the number on the scale. Not only is muscle necessary to maintain your body's optimal movement and tone, but it also burns calories faster than fat due to its higher metabolic activity.

Fatigue

Fatigue and exhaustion can result from depriving your body of the nutritious energy it requires, especially when combined with vigorous exercise. It could be difficult for you to get through the workday without becoming overly exhausted. Your body may have irregular and undesirable cravings for high-calorie foods or be less likely to work out when it is tired.

Low mood or irritability

Exercise has a terrific mood-boosting effect, but if you're too tired from pushing yourself in the gym and aren't eating enough to keep your energy levels up, you could find yourself feeling even more stressed, irritable, or angry. Low emotions might result from hunger and fatigue, which can make it difficult to concentrate or stay motivated.

Not only that but there are other dangers associated with losing weight quickly. These could be: 

Headaches

Dizziness

Hair loss

Menstrual irregularities

Can rapid weight loss be good for you? 

But is drastically cutting weight the only unhealthy way to go? Can it contribute positively to a journey toward well-being? In actuality, it truly depends on your body type and health objectives, although it might be. Some people lose weight more quickly than others because they have metabolisms that are significantly faster than average. When starting out on a healthy diet and exercise regimen, people frequently see faster initial weight loss (typically in the first few weeks) as their bodies acclimate to the new habits and shed water weight. Once these modifications become a more regular part of their routine, this normally slows down to a more regular pace of loss.

Unless you don't need to lose weight or are losing weight because of your health, losing weight shouldn't always happen quickly. What can be unhealthy is the method by which you lose weight. It's crucial to eat a balanced, healthful diet that gives your body the nourishment, fuel, and energy it needs to operate properly while concentrating on weight loss. If you combine this with a well-planned exercise regimen, you should be able to lose weight healthily. It could be worthwhile to consult a nutritionist or your general practitioner if you're worried that you're losing weight too quickly to make sure you're doing it the right way.

[chokememaximoff]

You can't hide from the shadows part IV

g!p Natasha Romanoff x Reader series

Abstract:In "You Can't Hide from the Shadows," join Y/N on a thrilling journey as she finds herself ensnared in a dangerous game of survival, hunted by a relentless foe. When Natasha Romanoff, the enigmatic Black Widow, enters her life, Y/N's world is turned upside down, leading to an unexpected and intense love affair amidst the shadows. Together, they must navigate a treacherous path of love, danger, and self-discovery, all while attempting to escape the ever-encroaching darkness that threatens to consume them both.

TW: violence, including physical altercations, injuries, and gun violence, along with depictions of abuse, torture, kidnapping, and captivity, explicit sexual content, mentions of mental health issues, pregnancy and childbirth, and strong language and mature themes.

The days seemed to blur together for Y/N, as she found herself repeatedly struck by waves of nausea and unexplained weakness. Initially, Natasha dismissed it as something trivial – perhaps a bad meal or a minor bug. However, as time passed and Y/N's condition showed no signs of improvement, Natasha's concern grew.

One morning, Y/N awoke feeling worse than ever. She stumbled out of bed, barely managing to reach the bathroom before the nausea overwhelmed her. Natasha heard Y/N retching from the bedroom and hurriedly followed her, concern etched on her face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Natasha asked, worry lacing her voice as she knelt beside Y/N and held her hair back. Y/N managed to shake her head weakly, her face pale. "I didn't eat anything bad," she managed to mumble between heaves.

As the days turned into a week and Y/N's condition persisted, she couldn't ignore the growing suspicion that had been nagging at her mind. She had heard about the possibility before, though she never thought it would apply to her. The thought of it both excited and terrified her.

Y/N decided it was time to take action. She mustered the courage to approach Natasha about going to the pharmacy. "Hey, Natasha," Y/N began tentatively, "I'm feeling pretty run down, and I thought maybe I should get some vitamins or something to boost my immune system."

Natasha glanced at her, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you sure you're not coming down with something? Maybe you need to see a doctor."

Y/N nodded, feigning agreement. "Yeah, I just thought some vitamins might help. Can we go to the pharmacy today?"

Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Of course, kotenok," she replied gently. "We'll go to the city later."

When they reached the city, Natasha parked the car outside the pharmacy, watching as Y/N entered. Inside, Y/N quickly located the pregnancy tests and added a few bottles of vitamins to her basket. She tried her best to seem casual and inconspicuous, not wanting Natasha to become suspicious.

Back in the car, Natasha smiled at Y/N, her eyes full of warmth. "Did you find what you needed?"

Y/N nodded, fastening her seatbelt. She leaned her head on Natasha's shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort as Natasha held her hand. "Thanks, Tasha," Y/N murmured, her nerves causing her stomach to twist.

As they headed back to the cabin, Natasha suggested they pick up some takeout food. Y/N agreed, grateful for the distraction. They settled in the cozy cabin, the warmth of the firewood making the atmosphere inviting.

The next morning, Y/N woke up before Natasha, her heart racing with anticipation. She quietly slipped out of bed, a bundle of nerves as she entered the bathroom. Trembling slightly, she took the pregnancy tests, her hands shaking as she waited for the results.

When she saw the positive outcome on both tests, tears welled in Y/N's eyes. She bit her lip to stifle a sob, her emotions overwhelming her. She had to share this with Natasha, but her worries held her back. What if Natasha wasn't ready for this? What if she didn't want a family?

A knock on the bathroom door startled Y/N, and she quickly wiped her tears away. "Yeah?" she called out, her voice slightly shaky.

Natasha's concerned voice came through the door. "Y/N, are you okay? I heard something fall."

Panicked, Y/N knocked a hairbrush off the counter, adding a touch of authenticity to her response. "I'm okay, just dropped something."

Natasha pushed the door open, her brows furrowed as she took in the sight of Y/N, who appeared a little disheveled and teary-eyed. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

Y/N pointed to the tests on the counter, her heart racing. Natasha's eyes widened as she looked at them, her expression one of shock and surprise.

Without thinking, Y/N began to ramble. "I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just didn't know how you'd react, and I wasn't sure if you wanted this, and I know it's a big step, and—"

Natasha's lips silenced Y/N's nervous rambling as she placed a finger against them. She took a step closer, her gaze tender as she cupped Y/N's cheeks. "Who said I'm not happy?" she whispered, her voice filled with affection. "I've always wanted kids, and being able to have them with you is a blessing, babygirl."

Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her chest. "You're not mad?"

Natasha's smile was soft, her eyes full of reassurance. "No, Y/N. I'm not mad at all. I'm shocked, but it's a good kind of shock."

Y/N's uncertainty remained, and she hesitated before asking the question that had been nagging at her. "Are you sure?"

Natasha's fingers gently caressed Y/N's cheeks, her gaze unwavering. "I've never been more sure in my life," she said, her voice steady and sincere. "Our little family will be safe and sound, and I'll make sure of that."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes once again, but this time they were tears of relief and joy. She leaned in, her lips meeting Natasha's in a sweet and heartfelt kiss. In that moment, all of Y/N's worries melted away, replaced by a profound sense of happiness and love for the woman who had unexpectedly become her partner in this new journey of parenthood.

...

Natasha's transformation since finding out about the pregnancy was nothing short of remarkable. Gone was the stoic and unyielding assassin that Y/N had first encountered. In her place was a caring and nurturing figure who seemed to have fully embraced the idea of becoming a mother.

Y/N couldn't help but find it absolutely adorable, watching as Natasha took every opportunity to show her affection and care. Mornings started with Natasha gently rubbing Y/N's back as she struggled to get out of bed, offering a warm smile and a soft "Good morning, love."

Every meal had turned into a culinary masterpiece. Natasha meticulously prepared dishes that not only satisfied Y/N's cravings but also provided the necessary nutrition for the baby. She had taken it upon herself to research every detail of prenatal care, ensuring that Y/N had all the vitamins and supplements she needed for a healthy pregnancy. Y/N couldn't help but tease Natasha about her newfound obsession with recipes and nutritional guidelines.

"Natasha, you're spoiling me," Y/N would say, chuckling as she savored a particularly delicious meal.

Natasha would simply grin, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Consider it practice for when the baby arrives."

But it wasn't just the meals. Natasha's affection was evident in every small gesture. Y/N would often catch her gazing at her with a tender smile, her fingers gently caressing Y/N's stomach as if she could feel the life growing within. Y/N would laugh, "Tasha, I'm not that far along yet!"

Natasha would simply lean down to press a soft kiss to Y/N's belly and murmur, "It's never too early to start."

On days when Y/N felt particularly tired, Natasha would insist that she rest. Y/N had a bit of a stubborn streak and would attempt to help with some chores around the cabin. However, she was quickly intercepted by Natasha, who scolded her in a surprisingly motherly tone and promptly sent her to rest on the couch. Y/N would roll her eyes playfully but secretly appreciated the concern and affection.

One evening, as they sat in the cozy cabin, the crackling of the fireplace filling the room, Y/N rested her head on Natasha's lap. Curious about Natasha's sudden silence, she looked up and asked, "Hey, what are you up to?"

Natasha's fingers tapped nervously on her phone as she hesitated for a moment. Y/N's smile grew as she watched Natasha fidget, something she had rarely seen before.

"What's got you all nervous?" Y/N asked, sitting up with a playful grin.

Natasha let out a sigh, her gaze meeting Y/N's. "Well, I've been trying to arrange something," she admitted, her voice tinged with nervous excitement. "I might have gotten us a ride to New York, to the Avengers compound."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and then a delighted smile spread across her face. "Really?"

Natasha nodded, her eyes flickering with a mixture of nervousness and hope. "I know it sounds sudden, but I thought it might be safer for the baby. And... I think people there would accept us, you know, two moms and all."

Y/N's heart swelled with affection for Natasha, seeing her nervousness and vulnerability. She poked Natasha's stomach, teasing, "Is my little assassin nervous about moving out of the cabin?"

Natasha huffed in mock annoyance, but her lips twitched into a smile. Y/N chuckled, touching Natasha's cheek. "I'm down to go wherever you want, Tasha."

With a gentle yet determined motion, Natasha pinned Y/N to the couch, her lips meeting Y/N's in a soft kiss. Then, she leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's belly. "We're going to have a great life," Natasha whispered, her voice full of love and promise.

As Y/N looked up at Natasha, her heart swelled with gratitude and happiness. In that moment, she knew that their journey ahead, with its challenges and uncertainties, would be a beautiful one because they were facing it together, as a family. Natasha's transformation was a testament to the depth of their connection and the love that bound them, ensuring that their little family would thrive in the world they were building together.

....

Eight and a half months had passed since Y/N and Natasha had moved to the Avengers compound. It had become a place of warmth, support, and the anticipation of a new life. Y/N's pregnancy had been a journey filled with ups and downs, but it was a journey they had taken together, embracing each moment with hope and love.

On this particular day, Y/N had dozed off in her bed, with Wanda Maximoff sitting by her side, keeping a watchful eye. The room was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant chatter from the compound. Y/N stirred in her sleep, her face contorting in discomfort. Sensing something was amiss, Wanda put her book aside and leaned closer.

Y/N's brow furrowed, and her murmurs grew more distressed. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, wide with panic, and she grabbed Wanda's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice trembling.

Wanda's eyes widened, and she looked down, her gaze following Y/N's. Her heart sank as she saw the wetness pooling through Y/N's shorts. Reacting quickly, she called out for Natasha, her voice carrying a hint of urgency.

In a matter of moments, Natasha appeared, her steps quick and determined. Her eyes scanned the scene, her instincts kicking in. As she reached them, she saw Y/N's distress and the wetness on the bed.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked urgently, her voice gentle yet concerned.

Y/N's panicked expression met Natasha's worried gaze. "I... I think my water broke," she managed to say, her voice quivering.

Without wasting another moment, Natasha moved into action. She helped Y/N up, her arms supporting her, as Wanda stepped back to give them space. Natasha's mind raced, her heart pounding, as she realized that Y/N was going into labor.

Quickly and carefully, they made their way to the compound's medical bay. The team there was already alerted and prepared for this possibility. As they entered the med bay, Y/N's breaths grew more uneven, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening.

The medical team worked swiftly and efficiently, their expertise and experience guiding them through the process. Everyone in the room felt a mix of nervousness and excitement, their focus solely on ensuring Y/N's well-being and the safe arrival of the baby.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a cry filled the air—a cry that brought tears to Y/N's eyes and a radiant smile to Natasha's face. As the medical team cleaned and swaddled the newborn, Y/N and Natasha shared a look that spoke volumes of relief, joy, and overwhelming love.

When they were handed their baby girl, Y/N's heart melted at the sight of her tiny, perfect face. She had Natasha's eyes and Y/N's own strength, already a testament to the love that had brought her into the world.

"Anya," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with awe as she looked at Natasha. Natasha smiled through her tears, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Y/N's forehead before turning her attention to their daughter.

Anya blinked up at them, her small fingers reaching out. Y/N held her close, feeling a rush of emotions that words couldn't possibly capture. As Natasha moved to their side, her hand gently touching Anya's cheek, they shared a quiet, heartwarming moment as a new family.

In that med bay, surrounded by the support of their friends and the promise of a bright future, Y/N and Natasha found themselves more in love than ever before. Anya's arrival was a testament to their journey, a journey that had led them here—to a moment of pure happiness and the beginning of a lifetime of love and adventure as a family.

...

Years had passed since the day Anya was born, and the Avengers compound had truly become a home for Y/N, Natasha, and their daughter. The halls echoed with laughter, the rooms were filled with love, and the memories created within those walls were a testament to the strength of their bond.

Anya had grown into a bright and curious child, a perfect blend of her two mothers. With Natasha's training and Y/N's nurturing, she had all the qualities that made her unique and exceptional. Her wide eyes held a spark of mischief, and her laughter was a melody that echoed throughout the compound.

Y/N and Natasha had settled into their roles as parents with grace and determination. Natasha's protective instincts were paired with Y/N's unwavering support, creating a perfect balance that allowed Anya to flourish. The couple had learned that parenthood was a journey filled with challenges and triumphs, but they faced each moment together, their love only growing stronger.

The compound had become a haven not only for the Avengers but for their extended family as well. The walls had seen countless gatherings, celebrations, and quiet moments of reflection. The laughter of children playing in the courtyard and the aroma of home-cooked meals wafting from the kitchen were constant reminders of the life they had built together.

In the evenings, Y/N and Natasha would often sit on the porch, watching the sunset and reflecting on their journey. They would hold hands, reminiscing about the challenges they had overcome, the love they had shared, and the happiness they had found in each other's arms.

Anya would sometimes join them, sitting between them with wide eyes as they told her stories of their past adventures. She would listen with rapt attention, her imagination already weaving tales of her own. And as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Y/N and Natasha would tuck her into bed, their voices soft as they whispered their love and promises of a bright future.

The compound was more than just a home; it was a sanctuary where love had blossomed and a family had been formed. Y/N and Natasha had found their place within its walls, surrounded by friends who had become family and a daughter who was the embodiment of their love.

And so, their story continued—a story of love, growth, and unwavering devotion. As each day passed, their bond only grew stronger, a testament to the enduring power of love and the beauty of creating a life together. In the heart of the Avengers compound, Y/N, Natasha, and Anya found their forever, a haven where love knew no bounds.

[xandertheundead]

Drabble: Sick

(I have the covid so I'm really spitting these out. Have more Bird Boys.)

It was funny how three birds of a feather could be so very different.

One was how the three of them got sick.

Donald, unsurprisingly, got sick the most often, but never anything past a light cold. All the duck ever really needed was a night with his humidifier and a glass of orange juice at every meal and he was right as rain within twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

It was remarkable how his immune system caught something so fast but then just as quickly sent it on its way without too much fuss.

Sometimes he would use cough drops, but José suspected that it was more because he liked the disgusting flavor than Donald needing them.

José came in second in the running, sick less often than Donald, but much worse for wear when he did get sick. No matter what, if he caught something it was awful. His sinuses were always congested, his nose ran like a faucet and his body ached for at least two days. 

Donald and Panchito had learned after the first few times that when José got sick he could be a bit mean or as Donald so lovingly put it ‘bitchy’. It was not his fault that when his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his body hurt and he could barely breathe he may have said one of two things that could be viewed as hurtful. Panchito and Donald never really argued that, they would just share a knowing look over José’s shoulder as if he didn’t know what they were doing.

Though the one time he had called Panchito a ‘Cock-sucking cock’ for strumming his guitar too loud while he was trying to nap and had been mortified upon waking up when he remembered. 

Still to this day, Donald will sometimes call Panchito that or the rooster will even refer to himself with it and José always wants to bury his head in the sand.

But when José came down with something, there was always a routine he would follow whether he was on his own and at home or with others. It started with tea. José’s kettle would work overtime anytime he got sick, boiling water for all different types of teas that José drank greedily even if they didn’t taste good. 

He would then make himself a huge pot of black bean soup, or ask Panchito to make it once they started living together and survive off that until he woke up feeling like himself again.

Panchito rarely ever got sick, he boasts his rustic upbringing with all the fresh air and such boosted his immune system to where almost nothing can bring him down. It wasn’t a lie, Panchito was hearty and healthy three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year which made him the main caretaker when the other two got sick.

Then there was one day out of the year when something latched onto the rooster that his insanely strong resistance to sickness couldn’t shake and that was it.

The first time José and Donald had experienced Panchito getting sick they had panicked, calling for an ambulance and rushing Panchito to the hospital because the day before he had a slight cough, and then the next he was unresponsive.

After that first time, Panchito assured them that he was fine and that was what happened when he got sick. It took one more trip to the hospital and two more times of Panchito seemingly dying and then rising from the dead for Donald and José to believe that Panchito might know what he was talking about. It was always strange when it happened while they were on tour, the car and hotel room usually filled with Panchito’s loud voice, singing, and guitar playing only for it to be almost silent with him being sick.

It wasn’t like Donald and José just sat in silence when Panchito was down. Still, it was undeniable what was missing after having a normal uninterrupted conversation at a regular volume for the entire day. The quiet wheezing breathing from the bed or backseat being Panchito’s only contribution to their conversations felt uneasy and wrong. Medicine never seemed to really do anything so Donald and José stopped trying and would just wait until the second day passed.

Panchito being sick worked like clockwork…

Day One: Panchito would have sniffles or a small cough and mention that he felt a little off, which was their warning to get ready.

Day Two: Complete blackout. Where Panchito fell asleep, that's where he stayed. No eating, drinking or even using the bathroom. He just slept while having a fever and sometimes soaking through the sheets with sweat.

Day Three: Wake up, eat some food, hydrate, shower, and then snuggle with whatever willing person he could grab (usually José but sometimes Donald didn’t mind).

After that, he returned to his usual self as if nothing had happened.

[muteshortgirl]

They Take Care of You

Flirty and sick reader.

Shinobu Kocho- Healing Love

Tender Attention: Shinobu would provide you with her undivided attention, making sure to listen carefully to your needs and concerns. She would approach your sickness with a gentle and compassionate demeanor.

Medical Assistance: Shinobu would assess your symptoms and provide appropriate medical assistance. She might examine you for any visible signs of illness, take your temperature, and ask detailed questions about your condition.

Herbal Remedies: Shinobu's expertise in medicinal herbs would come into play. She would prepare herbal concoctions or teas specifically tailored to alleviate your symptoms and boost your immune system. She might include ingredients known for their healing properties, such as chamomile, ginger, or honey.

Careful Monitoring: Shinobu would keep a close eye on your condition, checking on you regularly to monitor your progress. She would observe changes in your symptoms, note any improvements, or identify potential complications that require immediate attention.

Comfort and Rest: Shinobu would ensure your comfort and encourage you to rest and recover. She would prepare a cozy environment for you, adjusting the room temperature, and making sure you have everything you need within reach.

Nutritious Meals: Recognizing the importance of proper nutrition for a speedy recovery, Shinobu would prepare nourishing meals for you. She would ensure that you receive a balanced diet with foods rich in vitamins, minerals, and immune-boosting properties. Shinobu might also infuse her culinary creations with herbs to aid in your healing process.

Emotional Support: Shinobu would be attentive to your emotional well-being as well. She would offer words of encouragement, provide a sympathetic ear, and engage in light-hearted conversations to lift your spirits. Her warm presence and genuine care would help you feel comforted during your illness.

Patience and Understanding: Shinobu would understand that healing takes time, and she would demonstrate immense patience throughout the process. She would never rush you or pressure you to get better quickly. Instead, she would reassure you that it's okay to take the necessary time to recover fully.

________________________________________________________________

You lay in bed, feeling unwell. Shinobu Kocho entered the room and immediately noticed your playful smirk, despite your weakened state. She couldn't help but smile, appreciating your spirit even in sickness.

Shinobu approached the bed, her graceful steps accentuated by the sway of her butterfly-patterned haori . She carried a tray with a bowl of comforting chicken soup, a cup of soothing herbal tea, and a plate of meticulously sliced fruits. As she reached the bed, her eyes sparkled with a blend of concern and amusement.

"Well, well, my dear patient," Shinobu said with a hint of amusement in her melodious voice, her gaze meeting your playful one. "I must admit, it's quite charming to see you maintain your spirit even in this state."

You grinned mischievously, your voice weakened but still carrying a flirty tone. "What can I say, Shinobu? Even with a fever, my heart races when I see you. You're the cure I need to get better."

Shinobu blushed slightly, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as she appreciated your words. She gently placed the tray on the nightstand and sat down beside you. With a tender touch, she brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

"Your words have an enchanting effect, my butterfly," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "But let's focus on nursing you back to health. Once you're feeling better, I'll be more than happy to entertain your advances."

She reached for the bowl of soup and carefully brought it to your lips. "For now, let's replenish your strength with some nourishment. Flirting can resume when you're back on your feet."

you obliged, savoring the flavors of the soup, occasionally stealing flirtatious glances at Shinobu. "I can't wait to recover," you murmured, your voice filled with playful anticipation. "I'll make it up to you, Shinobu.”

Shinobu chuckled softly "Oh, I have no doubt about that," she teased, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'll hold you to that promise. But for now, rest and let my care work its magic."

Throughout the day, Shinobu continued to attend to your needs, exchanging playful banter and indulging your flirtatious remarks. She refilled your tea, adjusted your pillows, and shared lighthearted anecdotes from her demon-slaying adventures, all the while maintaining a subtle teasing tone.

Despite your illness, you found comfort and enjoyment in Shinobu's presence. Her attentive care and flirty banter made the sickness feel more bearable. It was as if her affectionate gestures and playful responses acted as a tonic, uplifting your spirits and aiding in your recovery.

Mitsuri Kanroji- Warm Healing

Expressing concern: Mitsuri would first express genuine concern for your well-being. She would approach you with a warm smile and gentle words, assuring you that she is there to help you feel better.

Providing comfort: Mitsuri would prioritize creating a comfortable environment for you. She might bring extra pillows, a cozy blanket, and ensure that the room is well-ventilated. She may also light some calming incense or even hum softly to help you relax.

Offering food and fluids: Mitsuri would understand the importance of nutrition and hydration when you're sick. She would prepare light and nourishing meals or soups, taking into consideration any dietary restrictions or preferences you might have. She would encourage you to drink plenty of fluids to stay hydrated.

Monitoring your symptoms: Mitsuri would pay close attention to your symptoms, checking your temperature regularly. She would be attentive to any changes or worsening of your condition, so she can seek medical help if necessary.

Providing gentle care: If you're experiencing discomfort, Mitsuri would provide gentle care to alleviate your symptoms. She might offer to massage your temples if you have a headache or apply a warm compress to soothe any muscle aches. She would be attentive to your needs and adjust her approach based on your preferences.

Offering emotional support: Mitsuri would understand that being sick can be emotionally challenging, so she would provide a listening ear and emotional support. She would sit with you, listen to your concerns, and offer comforting words of encouragement. Her kind and empathetic nature would help uplift your spirits.

Encouraging rest and recovery: Mitsuri would emphasize the importance of rest and encourage you to take the time needed to recover fully. She might read you a book, or engage in light-hearted conversations to distract you from your illness and help you relax.

Ensuring cleanliness and hygiene: Mitsuri would maintain a clean and hygienic environment to prevent the spread of germs. She would regularly sanitize surfaces, wash her hands frequently, and encourage you to do the same. She might even bring you a fresh set of clean clothes or towels to ensure your comfort.

Being patient and understanding: Mitsuri would exhibit great patience and understanding throughout your illness. She would never rush your recovery or pressure you to feel better quickly. Instead, she would be by your side, offering support and reassurance until you're back to full health.

________________________________________________________________

Mitsuri Kanroji, the kind-hearted and compassionate Hashira, could sense something was off with her beloved Y/n. She entered their room, concern etched on her face as she saw you lying in bed, clearly not feeling well.

"Darling, are you alright?" Mitsuri asked, approaching the bed with gentle steps. She sat down beside them, placing a hand on your forehead to check for any signs of fever. Her touch was soothing, her fingertips cool against your skin.

You mustered a weak smile, your eyes lighting up as they saw Mitsuri's caring expression. Despite your illness, you couldn't help but feel a mischievous playfulness within yourself. "I may be sick, Mitsuri, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate your beauty and love for you even more," you said, your voice soft and filled with affection.

Mitsuri blushed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that matched her hair. She giggled, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. "Oh, you're such a charmer, my love," she replied, her voice filled with affection. "But right now, we should focus on getting you better. How about I make you some soup? It'll help nourish you and give you the strength to recover."

You pouted playfully, your voice still carrying a teasing tone. "Oh, come on, Mitsuri. Can't I enjoy being sick and still have your undivided attention? Maybe a little bit of cuddling or a gentle massage? I promise it'll make me feel better."

Mitsuri's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your flirtatious request. She blushed deeper, her heart fluttering with a mixture of shyness and desire. She found your playfulness infectious, a welcome distraction from the worry she felt for your well-being.

"Alright, you persuaded me," Mitsuri said, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. "I'll make you some soup, but after that, I'll grant your request. Cuddles and a massage it is. But only if you promise to rest and take care of yourself too."

You grinned, feeling a surge of joy as Mitsuri agreed to your playful proposition. You couldn't help but admire her for being so understanding and caring, even in your playful banter.

As Mitsuri left the room to prepare the soup, you settled back into bed, your playful demeanor momentarily overtaken by a wave of gratitude and love. You were fortunate to have someone as loving and devoted as Mitsuri by your side, even in your moments of weakness.

The anticipation of Mitsuri's return, coupled with the warmth of her affectionate care, made your heart skip a beat. You knew that with her love and attention, Your recovery would be swift, and your bond would grow even stronger in the process.

[ssonar1809]

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