#fever hallucinations

[lilithlinen]

What if you cheated on Kevin LOmax?

What if you cheated on Kevin Lomax? What would he do?😬😬

I have some ideas and they're not pretty tho....

[whumpbug]

first fic! woo!!

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A and B are either romantically involved or very close platonically (u can choose how to interpret but the writing is leaning towards romance)

C is more or less the adopted kid (maybe preteen to young teen) of the two!

this is my first kinda time period whump (1890ish wild west america but it’s not too important in this) because they’d be living in some kind of camp or forest clearing, away from civilization

whumpee: C

caretaker(s): A and B

[gender neutral A,B, and C]

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A stumbled out of their shared tent with B, viciously scrubbing at the blur in their eyes as they had just woken up. They were ripped from their comfortable sleep by the biting cold air that seeped into the tent and below the thin blankets they were under. Now more than ever, A wished they had spent the extra time to find a place to stay, but it was too late. They and their family were going to have to brave the January chill for the foreseeable future.

“Cold wake you up?” B questioned from their place stoking a small fire in the center of the clearing.

A only nodded and found a place to sit next to the fire, reaching out their pale and shaking fingers towards the warmth.

B made their way over and rubbed up and down A’s shoulders, leaning down and pressing a kiss on their temple. A smiled and leaned into it.

“C’s still asleep?” A asked, starting to feel more alert and awake.

“Guess so.. it’s a wonder they can sleep through this..” B replied, sitting next to A and sidling up to their warmth.

“I only ask because.. well.. you saw them last night.. hardly touched their food..”

“A, you worry too much.. they’re a tough kid.. they’re probably just being lazy today! Can’t blame ‘em either!“

“You’re right…” A bit their lip in contemplation. They couldn’t shake the bad feeling they had. C really hadn’t looked good last night. They drummed their fingers along their knee and said, “I think I’ll go check on them anyways..”

B laughed softly.

“Whatever you say dear, but hurry back! I need your bodily warmth!”

A laughed off the comment and made their way to C’s small tent. It was a ratty old thing, littered with holes and stains and loose threads. I’ll have to go into town and get them a new one soon, A thought to themself.

“C? You in there?” They called out.

No answer.

“C?? I’m coming in, okay?”

They pushed open the flap of the tent and was first taken aback by the silence.

C was a snorer. Albeit softly, they still hardly ever slept silently. Certainly not this silently.

The blankets were strewn all about the small cot and the pillows were on the floor to the right of it. The whole scene was weird but it became gut-wrenching when A realized that C wasn’t in the cot at all.

“C?? C?!” A yelped out, suddenly patting frantically at the cot and rummaging all around the tent. “Are you here??”

B burst into the tent, wide-eyed and looking panicked. “The hells going on?!”

“C isn’t in here!”

“Where the hell are they?!?!”

“Do you think if I knew that I’d be standing here right now??!”

“I don’t know!!”

A pinched the bridge of their nose and stepped out of the tent.

“Look, the horses are all still here,” they said, motioning to the two horses hitched to a tree off to the side of the camp. “They can’t have gotten far without a horse. Not even sure they know how to ride on their own..”

B pursed their lips into a straight line. “You don’t think they.. well..”

The unspoken words hung in the air. The general area they made their camp in had been crawling with various gangs of outlaws for a while now. What outlaws wanted with an innocent kid, A had no idea, but the possibility send chilled down their spine.

“Let’s.. let’s not jump to conclusions.. for all we know, they wandered off to take a piss and got a bit turned around in the forest.. let’s just saddle up and have a look..” A said, keeping their voice calm as they could.

They grabbed their coats, mounted their horses and began riding separately into the forest.

••

“C!! Where are you!!” A called out, starting to feel restless. They’d only been searching for about half an hour but A was starting to feel restless. Every worst case scenario flashed through A’s mind.

How long had C been out here in this freezing weather? Had they the sense to at least bring a coat with them? What if a wild animal had already gotten to them? What if they were too late and they had frozen to death??

A shook their head. C was fine. They had to be.

They lead their horse with numb fingers through a patch of trees that they were sure they’d gone through before when something caught their eye.

A tiny figure, curled up against the base of a large rock, clad in only a union suit that was obviously too big for them. C.

A all but leaped off their horses and called out for B before racing over to the kid.

“C.. C.. oh lord.. are you hurt??” They asked while kneeling beside them and quickly scanning over their body for injuries.

C’s face was ghostly pale and their lips were turning a sickly shade of blue. They were shivering like mad and their eyes had a far away glaze to them. It took them a moment to recognize that someone was next to them, but as soon as they noticed it was A, they gave a pitiful whimper and all but threw themselves into their warm and solid arms.

“I’m c-cold…”

A breathed a laugh at the silly observation. They pulled C closer and nearly gasped at just how cold their tiny frame was. Their entire body was tense. They were shaking so hard C almost thought they’d break. “Sweetheart, what are you doing out here.. and how long have you been out here..” They asked as they smoothed their hair back from their face. At some point B had found the pair and was working on shrugging off their own winter coat in favor of wrapping it around C.

“D-Don’t.. don’t know.. heard noises.. th-they we’re chasing me.. had to.. h-had to get out..” C said, clinging to the lifeline that was B’s thick coat.

A and B shared a worried glance. C seemed really out of it. Neither A nor B had heard anything during the night. It was possible that C was sicker than either of them originally thought.

“We’re gonna get you home, okay? You’re safe now honey..” A cooed, bending over to pick up the kid. B mounted their horse and A passed C up to them, figuring it would be better to have C ride double with the more skilled rider.

A mounted their own horse and made their way back to camp.

••••

Once back at camp, C was wrapped in every coat, blanket, and towel A and B could find and then stuck in front of the fire to thaw out. It took a little bit of time, but soon their color started to return to normal and they became more alert.

Something was still off though.

The more warmed up C got, the more unnatural heat bloomed on their cheeks and neck and soon, they were entirely too warm.

“Yep, they’ve definitely got a fever..” B said from where they were gently cupping C’s face. “And a hell of a fever too! No wonder they weren’t hungry last night..”

“You think maybe that’s why they ran off? Fever dreams?” A asked as they added tea leaves into the kettle.

“I think that’s more than likely..” B gathered C into their arms and rubbed their back in slow, soothing circles.

“Well, they’re alright now..” A said softly as they pressed a steaming mug of tea into C’s thin hands. “Can you drink that for me honey? It’ll bring your fever down.. then you can get some sleep…”

C took a tentative sip of the tea and recoiled when the flavor hit their tongue. “Taste like.. dirt??”

“I know, I know.. it’s pretty gross.. but it’s good for you! Figured it was better than a dunk in the river..” A playfully glared at B. “Which someone did to me when I was sick.”

“Hey! You were really burning up! I didn’t know what to do!” B said, laughing and glaring back.

C also laughed softly, comforted by the gentle banter of their parents. They scrunched their face and downed the drink in one go before leaning back into B’s arms as they continued reminiscing with A. They were warm. They were safe. They were loved.

“Well I didn’t know if I was supposed to give you—” B was cut off when they looked down at their side and realized that C was sound asleep against their shoulder, breathing softly and evenly. They smiled and looked up at A who was doing the same.

“Let’s get them to bed..” A murmured gently, pressing a kiss to the top of C’s head, then one on B’s cheek.

Sure, the circumstances sucked. It was cold and wet and uncomfortable, but the important thing was the A’s family was safe and together. That’s all that mattered.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[soupdreamer]

hey brennan what the fuck

[stagefoureddiediaz]

please tell me y'all are still feeling insane - I have yet to come down to earth and I'm not sure when I will

[silvercap]

Been reading a lot of 'character gets bitten by venomous creature and hallucinates' fics lately, and I gotta say - delirious hallucinations can be so good??? The confusion and inability to tell if the person helping you is real? Waking up disoriented and needing to be calmed down? A second character telling the injured character in increasing levels of worriedness that they're hallucinating/their symptoms are getting worse, but they barely know if that's even real or not? Fading in and out of consciousness while they recover, still lost in feverish, nonsensical dreams? All they know is that everything hurts, and anything else turns out to be a lie

[kakejiszkas]

danny wagner not real. confirmed

[sandinthepipes]

Jaskier got picked up by his ex and the first thing he did was get naked to show off the new merch and when he thought it wasn't enough made a comment about how hard his nipples were.

What a legend

[mur-art]

Karaoke night at the Statehouse!

What else are Bon and Jovi singing?

Inspired by the latest FMISC episode, of course! Poor Cali still can't catch a break.

Aaanyyyyway I've had Covid for almost a week and I'm barely alive rn. 😭 The symptoms are sore throat, cough, headache, and forgetting how to draw, apparently.

[of-wounds-and-woes]

Wolf Pack S01E07/08

[chronicowboy]

i'm sorry but i actually cannot get over do more. like just. buck's the loud one, the one that digs through forty feet of mud whilst screaming, the one that yells at you to hang on as he army crawls towards you in an active shooter situation. eddie's the quiet one, the one that locks everything away so he can work, the one that disassociates as soon as his job is done. but when eddie is rolled into the hospital, buck freezes and when mehta asks him if he's okay he can only whisper a broken no. then when buck is rolled into the hospital, eddie goes to follow and shouts a desperate do more after the doctors promise to do their best for him. do you understand?

[aceofwhump]

Around the World in 80 Days 1x04

Phileas Fogg is given a drink laced with poison and experiences delirium, convulsions, fever, exhaustion, and hallucinations.

[yooils]

lightweight . drunk!isagi x reader. fluff. accidental proposal. short blurb + extremely forced plot.

— ISAGI YOICHI is a lightweight.

it’s a truth acknowledged by everyone close with him, really, with the way he begins his flowery proses after a drink or two– followed by a gradual descent to an emotional wreck; usually accompanied with an abundance of impulsive decisions and a self depreciating monologue of his life.

but in spite of that, he knows how to handle himself 90% of the time. (the remaining 10% is left unmentioned by all, regardless of the copious amounts of black-mail material some of his teammates possess.)

so naturally, the first time you see yoichi have an emotional breakdown in public is during a team get-together! he’s half on his knees with an abnormally flushed complexion; his eyes are starting to water from the reverie he’s found himself in, and his throat is constricted with hiccups. you've been so-called paged by his colleagues– only to find that the emergency they had mentioned afore to be your drunk boyfriend.

“i just want you to know that i love you.” is the first thing that comes out of isagi's mouth when he catches sight of you entering the bar his team had booked for the night.

the collective wolf whistles from his teammates would have portrayed the unfolding scene to be akin to an extremely romantic (read: corny) scene of a movie, if it wasn't for the uncharacteristically delirious look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“my affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this. i just want you to know that i’m pregnant, and you’re the baby. will you marry me?”

(a few feet away, rin spits out his drink, outraged at the sheer blasphemy of one of his favourite books and movies. nagi's recording next to him, half-asleep yet still giggling at his friend's drunken antics.)

you love yoichi too, you really do– but you have to run through the list of things you love about him just to keep yourself from strangling him to the brink of unconsciousness so he stops talking.

– he's cute. he's only a little bit annoying sometimes. he does the laundry properly. he just confessed that he loved you amidst his drunken stupor even though you've never said it to each other directly before in person– and then proposed to you. and he's hot.

finally forfeiting to his boyish, drunken charms (and having had enough public humiliation for today), you find yourself and your extremely drunk boyfriend in the middle of the parking lot; with you holding him by his coat so he doesn’t escape, and him squirming around with airy sounds of discomfort which you had opted to ignore.

isagi’s leaning in close, breath reeking of alcohol and hands fumbling with his seatbelt clumsily.

“psst.. don’t tell anyone, but i’m gonna marry you one day.”

the pause in the car is deafening.

you furrow your eyebrows. he obliviously leans his cheek against the car window, unbothered by the sheer weight that his words had carried.

“wait, you don’t want other people to find out that you’re going to propose to me, so you tell the person you’re actually proposing to?”

his drunk gasp speaks volumes to you. “oh no, did i say that out loud? am i being kidnapped? where am i? is the world finally ending? but i still haven’t told (name) that i loved them…”

(okay, maybe he’s a little more stupid when he’s drunk, but you’ve grown to become a believer in the concept that drunken words are sober thoughts in the last hour. you hope.)

isagi’s eyes melt into something akin pools of sapphire stones under the lamppost-lit light. it’s been your favourite colour from the moment you met him.

“yoichi, why are you sniffing me?”

you amusedly ask, finding minor entertainment in his actions.

he’s half slumped on you by the time you stop the car by his apartment– and you realise that there’s no way of getting out of your vehicle without damaging 1.) your spine 2.) your arms and 3.) his dignity. (which really is already ruined, objectively, from the amount of second-hand embarrassment you’ve faced tonight.

“don’t wanna leave you.. smells like home..” he almost-incoherently mumbles, and you impulsively have half a mind to keep him forever-intoxicated because of how cute, despite tedious he’s become.

as a relatively simple man, isagi has always been subjected to a desire for more; especially when it came to football.

(but you, he thinks, will always be more than enough for him. and he hopes he’s enough for you too, even in his drunken haze, because he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasps for even a second).

the way you stroke his hair has his mind collapsing into a puddle of melted goo even in the air-conditioned car. you’ve rewritten his brain chemistry to make yourself the only pearl in his universe composed of mostly football, and in every life, he would let you break his heart over and over again.

once you realise that he's stopped his drunken ramblings and fumbling, the panic finally kicks in.

"yoichi, are you sleeping? we're still in the car park! i can't get out with you laid on me!"

(the next morning, he apologises after a much needed hangover pill and a reminder of what happened last night, sent to him in the form of a video by nagi.

you don't tell him that you've already seen the ring in his sock drawer.)

8.12.23

[kiraman]

And so death comes calling for her, a supplicant throwing itself at her feet; then again, Mizu has known death too well now to fear it; has filled her hands with it, adored it, fiendishly, with such devotion and horror—no, she is not afraid of it. She isn't happy unless it’s lying across her path; so when the dark, violent fever overtakes her, swallowing her up in its flaming grip during the tenth month of her trip over the high seas, it is not fear that comes with it; no. It's something else; something furious, with teeth. She drags herself onto the docks and gropes for the gunwale, slips down onto her knees. When someone comes to help her back onto her feet, she is a caged animal, cruel, vicious , scratching to get out. She shrugs them off, shoves the cup of water forced upon her mouth away, hissing in japanese; get off me! she does not want their hands on her, does not need their help; her cold blood cannot be worked into a fever – her veins are full of ice-water, they are dark, death does not know how to live in them, the fever turns to tidal waves, she is ocean depth; she will be okay.

She does not know how, but when next she awakes she's on her back, swathed in layers of heavy woolens that have been unwashed for months or years, reeking like everyone, itching like everyone, like a hot stone on her chest, burning and she violently tears them off, tosses them aside, and tries to sit up, her blood pounding in her ears. She topples over and falls onto the floor, feels her chin crack against the floorboards; distant voices cut viciously through the damp darkness that envelopes her; she does not understand what they are saying; she blinks through the veil of heat that enshrouds her and weakly drags herself towards the window, parched for air, her throat is throbbing wildly, her skin feels like a coal, melting right off her bones, gods help her, she is is melting, her body bursts into flame, this must have been how it felt...back at Edo...all those people swallowed by her rage, gods, gods help her.

She blinks at her hands and gasps when blood spills down her wrists onto the floorboards, pooling all around her, swelling, like the tide; and she is trying to swim through it, back to her cot, but it keeps spilling and pouring, it floods the cabin, drips into her mouth and throat; red, like a flame, like murder, like her, in her crimson dress, like her mouth screaming her name as she was dragged away on that horse and Mizu gasps and gasps, she is feral now, she is furious, screaming as she gropes for the bed, her hands slipping; her eyes are the sharp glint of a sword held to Akemi's throat, glittering in the light of the sea lantern.

She lays on her back and lets the flood sweep her under into its furious flame. She dreams of her at night. When she opens her eyes (dark, feverish eyes, eyes with teeth, like two angry waves in a storm) she sees her there, robed in silk, her dark, ebony curls sprawling all over Mizu's fevered face as she leans over her, urges a cup of water to her lips; she sees her, with some kind of hallucinatory clarity, and, all night long, she calls out for her, she is not sorry, she will not say sorry; she cannot; she is something else, something feral, with claws; she clings to her wrist when she tries to pull away, Akemi, Akemi, she whispers her name like an apology like a prayer for something they cannot have, will not havs, but she pulls away and she is left alone, drowning in fire.

She sinks in and out of fever sleep for so long— how long has it been now, is she dead? Alive? She loses count; but every time she opens her eyes, she is there, golden and radiant, wrapped in a veil of shimmering heat, and Mizu feels her hand reach out towards her but she can't touch her, she is air, she's fire and incense, an altar, she turns into smoke, consumes Mizu all to an ember; she touches her sleeve, all that silk, like flames, burning through her fingers and does not ask her to stay, she will not beg, she does not know how, does not even want her to look at her; but when the cup is brought back to her open mouth, she closes her eyes and feels her mouth on hers too; she is fire and flame but her lips are cold like the ocean, she has a taste of tempest on her tongue and a kimono red as blood, as the death on Mizu's hands, it spills like silk through her hands, she fades away and she does not scream but something inside of her is howling, don't go, don't go, come back. Akemi is shadow and light, something secret she keeps so deep inside of her she can never reach it, she will never touch her, she will never hold her, her hands are stone, they are a blade, it will cut her open, her touch. She shivers when Akemi pulls away and her throat is raw, she is parched and desperate, and everything inside of her is numb and dead, she does not know how to love, she is the edge of a knife and darkness, the scream of a woman held underwater, drowning, she will not touch her.

She sees her face, in the gold of summer, burning with fierce loveliness as she passes by her in a cage, like a memory, like a sliver of sunlight, threads of golden beads in her dark hair; her carnelian eyes meet hers, but only for a second, and she sinks into Mizu like a flaming arrow, sudden, deep, inescapable; she is the taste of the night, she is fever and fever and flame; and then she is gone.

When the fever abates, the mean, bitter coldness returns where her flame has burnt itself into her veins, scalded her to the bone, and Mizu furiously tears her out of her mouth her mind her hands; gods she has never hold her, and she wonders how can someone miss something that she has never had so much? She buries that thought, too. The sea before her is fire-water and silver froth, a roric flame; outside, the winds howl, savage, squalling with the storm, dark, secret.

She does not listen to it. Her eyes grow dark and unseeing, all she sees is her rage; ruthless and cold, beseeching at her feet.

She does not think of her, but sometimes, in her sleep, she thinks she can hear her voice screaming her name as they drag her away.

Somewhere in Japan, Akemi lays down near her husband, and all of her fire is snuffed out; when she closes her eyes, all she sees are his eyes, blue as iron and cold as sea-washed silt, furious waves in a storm crashing themselves against the shore of her body. She wakes up gasping, thirsty for the ocean; it makes her sick, wanting the sea. It makes her sick, how everything around her becomes drenched, her neck beaded with sweet sweat, the air, stifling, throbbing as she thinks of him, the salt of his skin, how it had felt, holding onto him as he shielded her with his body from the Claws; somewhere between sleep and awareness, she thinks of the dark cold shelter of it and how he had smelled, all salt water and bitter, like the ocean as she had stood behind him in the brothel.

She does not speak of it to anyone, lest of all to herself; she is frantic and flaming, a wildfire roaring: she shuts it away desrparately, but it comes back to her anyway. Akemi wonders where he has gone. She does not know if she wants the answer. He lives in her head now, and even drinking a cup of water makes her sick.

Somehow she survives it.

[whiteshipnightjar]

Self-portraits by Joanna Newsom in Rodarte PS23

[livrere-green]

I just pictured this random scene of charles telling edwin in the most casual of ways that he could show him how kissing is like just for edwin to respond in the most deadpan serious voice that he already knows how it is like.

it's funnier if you imagine crystal and jenny in the background almost losing their minds.

[jordanstrophe]

Hi! Would you write some comfort whump? The prompt is that Whumpee’s sick and very delirious, imagining *things* that aren’t true and recalling past traumas. Surely, Caretaker’s there to help them to get through the tiny episode of madness…

Hello there! You had me at ･ﾟ:✧comfort✧:･ﾟ

CW: Blood, injuries, hallucinations, fever, hurt/comfort, splashed with some soft caretaking

Whumpee stood in front of the steamed bathroom mirror clutching the sides of the sink.

After being captured, they brought home a fever that was stubborn to shake. Caretaker was worried sick about it, checking their temperature nearly every hour.

With the side of their hand, they wiped a streak of steam from the mirror. Their eyes suddenly widened and they stepped back from their own reflection.

Staring back was not what they are; but what they were once before - Hallow soulless eyes, dark rims telling days of restless nights, bruises on their lip, cheek and brow. Blood splatter across their face; their own blood.

They recoiled and tried to wipe it, but nothing seemed to want to come off. Their eyes grew more frantic as they whimpered, scrubbing their face harder and harder until the bridge of their nose turned red and the bruising turned black.

Their ears rang and they swore they could hear whumper's voice behind it. They could hear their blood splattering, their heart pounding in their head, pain from every wound like they were being torn open-

The ringing came to a halt when a gentle knock rattled on the door.

"Whumpee? You've been in there for awhile. No rush! I'm just checking to see if you're alright." Their voice rang.

"I can't get it off!" Whumpee sobbed, crumpling to the floor on their knees. "I keep trying and it's not coming off! Why won't it come off!?" Whumpee sobbed.

The door immediately burst with almost brute force. Whumpee felt themselves be scooped into caretaker's arms and their face get cupped by either side of their jaw. Whumpee was practically clawing at their face, still desperate to wash the blood off.

"Whumpee it's okay, I'm here, look at me," Caretaker pushed the panic to the back of their throat and pulled whumpee's hands away from their face. Whumpee held their breath and squeezed their eyes shut. They violently trembled and gasped for air.

"Whumpee, sweetheart..." Caretaker quietly muttered, their voice full of sadness. "You're alright. Hey, hey look at me, you're alright. Deep breaths." Caretaker cupped their face more comfortingly, their fear morphing into concern.

"Wh-what?" Whumpee blinked their eyes open. It was only then did they realize they were on their knees shaking on the floor. They quickly wiped sweat off their forehead and let Caretaker pull them to their feet.

"Look." Caretaker nodded to the mirror. Whumpee glanced at caretaker nervously, before hesitantly approaching the mirror afraid of what was in it.

Inside the streak was their face, maybe a bit red and feverish still, but not a drop of blood, not a single bruise (although there were a few smalls ones to form soon) and a healthy-nourished complexion thanks to caretaker nursing them with breakfast every morning and dinner every night.

They swayed on their feet as caretaker stood behind them and clutched the back of their arms. "Easy, you're still healing... Are you in pain?" They asked.

"N-... No." Whumpee breathed, touching their face with their fingertips. "No, not at all..." They repeated, sounding more confused than relieved.

"Why don't we go back to bed and I'll bring you a tea, okay?" Caretaker coaxed, already pulling them away from their reflection without waiting for an answer. Whumpee nodded and let themself be led and tucked into bed. Caretaker checked their temperature and sighed.

"Ah, that explains it, your fever went up again. I'll get you some medicine and an icepack." They spoke matter-of-factly. They were about to rush off before they were stopped by whumpee grabbing their hand.

"Caretaker?" Whumpee tried to speak up, but their voice came out weak. Caretaker looked back with a flash of worry.

"Thank you..." They spoke with a small genuine smile.

Caretaker gave them a watery smile and squeezed their hand back.

"Of course, of course." They responded, like they would do it again a thousand times.

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