#i'm sick of feeling like an inconvenience all the damn time or like i'm the fucking enemy

[alexiroflife]

jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...

"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)

you're fucked.

you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.

you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.

this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.

especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.

damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.

you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-

"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.

you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?

you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.

you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.

"babyyy!"

you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.

you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.

"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.

"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"

"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"

"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.

"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"

"nah, I waited for you, toru."

"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."

you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.

he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.

"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"

fucking hell, damn those six eyes.

you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."

"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"

you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.

satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.

"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.

satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."

you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."

"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"

"yeah... why?"

"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."

why the hell does he want to move around so much?!

"um- why can't we just order here?"

a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.

you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"

gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."

"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"

"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."

"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"

"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"

you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."

"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."

"why do you want me to stand?"

"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."

"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.

"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."

"no."

"no?!"

"no, i don't want to."

"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.

"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.

"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"

"nothing."

"then stand up."

"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."

"i will if you tell me what's wrong."

"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.

he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.

his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"

you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.

"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"

"satoru, you're being dramatic."

"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"

"it's fine, relax."

"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."

you frown. "But-"

"Now."

you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.

satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."

"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."

"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"

"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."

"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."

"i get it, toru," you frown.

"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."

your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.

"there's that pretty smile."

"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."

"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."

"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"

"forget the mission."

"...satoru, i can't just-"

"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."

"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."

"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."

"but you're you."

"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"

"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."

"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."

"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."

"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."

you pout slightly. "I love you too."

"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."

"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.

"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."

he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"

you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."

"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"

"...i wanted it to go away."

"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"

"i wanted to get into bed!"

satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"

"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."

"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.

"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."

"toru-"

"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."

"satoru!"

but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.

suguru geto: (cold!)

shit.

you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.

something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.

you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.

how can you be sick of all things?

you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.

you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.

you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.

suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.

and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.

"hello?"

"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.

"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."

"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."

you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"

"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."

"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"

"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.

"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"

"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."

suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.

"suguru? you there?" you finally say.

"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"

"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"

"(Y/n)."

"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."

"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"

"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.

"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."

suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."

you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."

"okay. I'll see you in a bit."

after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.

you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.

you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.

just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.

we miss you :(

you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.

you miss having a life.

you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.

the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.

he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.

when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.

"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.

you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.

"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.

"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"

"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.

"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."

"suguru..."

"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."

"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.

"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."

"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."

"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"

his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.

"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."

"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."

"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."

"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."

"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"b-because, I have to..."

"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."

"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"

"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."

your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.

"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."

you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.

"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."

your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."

"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.

you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."

"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.

"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.

"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."

"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."

you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."

"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."

kento nanami: (low iron!)

you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.

it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.

you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.

it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.

perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.

you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.

what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.

and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.

"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"

you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.

god, why can't you just be normal?

you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.

you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.

you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.

you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.

but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.

you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.

"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.

you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.

kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.

"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"

you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.

"oh shit," you whisper.

"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"

"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."

"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."

"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."

"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"

you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.

"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"

and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.

"...i'm not sure what you're-"

"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."

your heart drops. "kento..."

"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."

the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."

"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"

"i know," you mutter.

"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"

you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.

"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."

"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.

"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."

"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.

the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"

"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."

"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."

"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."

nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."

"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."

"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."

"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."

nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."

"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."

"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."

"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."

"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."

"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.

"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."

"i know."

"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."

"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."

"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."

"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."

you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"

you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."

he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."

choso kamo: (broken finger!)

it had fully been an accident.

you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.

it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.

you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.

but you hadn't.

the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.

"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.

for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.

and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.

you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.

you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.

one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.

he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.

so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.

that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.

"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"

"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.

"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"

"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."

"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"

"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."

"who told you about my fingers, love?"

"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."

"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."

"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"

"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."

"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.

"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."

"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.

"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."

you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."

"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."

"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."

"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.

"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"

"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."

"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.

"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."

"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.

his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.

"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."

"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"

"cho, it'll be okay."

"that wasn't my question."

you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."

"right. sorry," he murmurs.

"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."

"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"

"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."

the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.

he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.

"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.

"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.

"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."

"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."

"i really hope so."

"now can you pass me those chips please?"

toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)

toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.

he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.

no touching. that is all he asks of you.

and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.

you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.

the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.

you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.

toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.

you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"

"why were you just standing there like that?"

"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."

"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"

you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"

"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."

you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."

"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."

"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.

a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."

"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."

"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.

his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.

"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."

"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.

"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."

"i'm not hiding anything, toji."

"uh huh."

shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.

you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.

you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.

"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.

"turn around f'me."

"huh?"

"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."

you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."

"and i hate when you lie, now turn."

you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.

god dammit. you're so dead.

nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.

"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.

you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.

"open."

"can't we just-"

"open."

you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.

toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.

"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"

"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"

"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."

"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."

"you're being a prick."

"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.

"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."

"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"

"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"

"what. do i say. about my weapons."

you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."

"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."

"look, i'm sorry."

"shut the hell up and come on."

despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.

when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.

the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.

"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.

you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.

toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.

you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.

"go slowly," you plead.

"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."

"shut the fuck up."

toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."

the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.

"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."

your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.

"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.

you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.

"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.

toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"

"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."

toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."

"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.

"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."

you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."

"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"

you perk up. "really?"

"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."

"don't be a smartass."

toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."

"...how about after we're done here?"

"don't fucking push it."

ryomen sukuna: (fever!)

you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.

you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.

you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.

you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.

it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.

102.4. perfect.

you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.

you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-

shit! sukuna.

there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.

you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.

you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.

which of course, he does.

a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.

"yes?" you croak.

"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.

"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.

"who the hell else would it be?"

"sorry... i was asleep."

"at this hour?"

"...what'dy'mean?"

"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"

you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?

"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.

"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"

"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.

"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."

fuckkkk.

how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.

"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"

"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.

"what exactly do you take me for?"

you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.

"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.

"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."

"i'm not i-ill."

"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"

this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."

"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."

"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."

"that's impossible."

"try me."

you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.

your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.

your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.

sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.

he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.

he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"

he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.

"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?

hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.

he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.

"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.

he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.

he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.

when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.

you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.

your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.

"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.

"why are we... what happened?"

"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."

your heart sinks. "how high?"

"when we got here, tipping past 105."

"...are you serious?"

"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."

he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’

"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"

"...i..."

"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."

you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"

"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."

you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"

"care?"

"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."

"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"

"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."

sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"

"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."

"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."

you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"

sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."

you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.

"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.

"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.

"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."

"kuna," you mumble.

"what?"

"can you... take me home?"

sukuna raises a brow. "home?"

"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."

"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."

"then bring them with."

"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."

"ten?!" you exclaim.

"you were very ill, (y/n)."

you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."

sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.

you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.

he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”

"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.

"what is it?"

you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."

the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

Feeling Big Sad and Big Stressed today which is really annoying because I’m sick of feeling like this and I know it’s a direct result of being in this environment, of being around the soul suck that is my mum, and I’m just stuck for another almost six weeks. I’m TIRED man.

[stormyweaver]

First Time For Everything || Part 1/??)

Alright, so never let it be said I'm not a hypocrite. I'm a huge one. But this has been sitting in my drafts for over two months and I need to post it since it's not going anywhere else lmao. PLUS I'm still reeling from my gnawing obsession with V/ox resurfacing after... y'know idk exactly what triggered it but it happened regardless.

Anyway I'm proud of my dialogue for this one bc that's always something I struggle with when writing, so yeah! Plus the idea of V/ox's first cold in Hell has always just been rattling around in my head. Also it's short, but sweet. So yeah! Enjoy!

Summary: V/ox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alas/tor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way. ~~~

It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 

The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 

He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.

Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.

Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.

He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.

“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”

“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”

Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 

“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”

“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 

Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?...” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 

“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 

Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”

After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.

'He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?' Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 

Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 

As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.

Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 

Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 

Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.

“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch... was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–

“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”

His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 

“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head...” 

“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 

“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it *ever* being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?

“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 

“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “... you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 

Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.

“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 

“Wait, what?”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 

Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…

“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 

“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 

“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”

“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”

“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–

“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 

Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 

“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 

“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 

“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 

Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 

“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”

Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 

“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 

Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 

By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.

Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 

[grandlinedreams]

hi hi before your requests close, i was wondering if you’d write something super angsty- maybe with a happy ending? i don’t have a prompt, just love angst and hurt/comfort

Hiya papaya! Thinking about the modern au, so have some EMT!Ace

[Heads up!: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of passing out, CT scans fucking suck]

When he hears the radio clipped to his belt crackle to life, Ace doesn't think much of it as he stirs from the light, sleepy daze he'd been drifting into in the back of the ambulance.

"Gonna have to repeat that," he answers when Sabo's voice is garbled, smacking the radio against his palm. Damn thing has to be at least ten years old ㅡ and no sign of them getting new ones, either. He holds it to his ear, rubbing at his eyes, though he stills as he hears the address.

It's familiar, as is the description of the patient ㅡ and he suddenly feels sick, staring at the radio in his hand. Surely Sabo'd said a digit of the address wrong, or gotten a description eerily similar ㅡ because Ace has a horrible, sinking feeling that the patient they're going to collect is you.

"Ace? You good?" Marco is talking, trying to get his attention, and he shakes his head to snap out of it.

"Yeah, yeah, Iㅡ" He swallows, fishing for his phone. "Sorry, but that call out just now...that's [Name]'s apartment." His fingers are shaking a little as he finds your contact, typing a text to send.

[Is everything okay? Call me when you get this.]

"I'm sure it's nothing," Marco tries to soothe as Ace all but slams the bay doors shut as the garage opens, siren already light and flashing as Marco pulls out and heads down the road.

Ace stares at his phone, willing you to answer. That this isn't for you, it's for a neighbor. A friend. Hell, he'll take a stranger over something happening to you.

He's out of the ambulance before Marco even pulls to a complete stop, heart hammering in his chest as he listens to the cop who's waiting for them at the entrance to the apartment complex.

"Neighbor found them unconscious on the floor, said they were conscious now but didn't want to move them."

"Thanks, man. We'll take it from here." Ace feels like he's underwater as he moves towards the open door, wishing that this apartment wete anything but as familiar to him as it is. He'd been here this morning, tangled up with you and lamenting the fact that he had to leave.

Ace has seen a lot of things in his time as an EMT ㅡ bones jutting out where they shouldn't, exposed viscera, and even an enchanting conversation with a man who seemed wholly unaware of his unintentional diy tracheotomy. None of it makes him feel as untethered and scared as seeing you on the floor does.

You're paler than you should be, and he hurries to stop you when your head turns towards him. "Ace?"

"Hey, sweetheart." He kneels, takes the neckbrace from Marco, sliding it beneath you and into place. "Can't have you moving your head like that until we know what happened. Can you tell me what today is?" He waits to get your answer, then continues. "What year is it?"

You frown. "I'm fine," you protest, "let me get up."

Ace shakes his head. "You passed out, sweetheart. We're taking you to the hospital." He watches as Marco grabs your wrist, eyes flicking to the watch on his wrist. "I'll get the backboard."

He needs something to do, to dispell the nervous jitter as he runs through all the things that could be wrong, running from mildly inconvenient to terminal diagnoses. By the time he makes it back and they load you onto the board, Ace is trying to stay positive for your sake.

"This is unnecessary," you whine as you're loaded into the bay, pouting at Ace. "Really? I passed outㅡ"

"And hit your head," he protests. "You need to be looked at." He shifts to professional mode as he picks up his radio, rattling off your vitals and brief description of what the situation had been.

"Ace?" He turns, finds you watching him.

"I'm sorry," you say and his chest aches as he brushes hair out of your face.

"Don't be," he murmurs, "you'll be fine, okay? We'll get you checked out, figure out what happened, then get you home."

"For cuddles?" You sound hopeful, and Ace grins.

"Of course."

Ace doesn't get to see you much further than your admission, and by the time he finishes his shift, you're already in a room that he's pointed to by the night shift nurse at the desk.

You're sitting up when he enters, cup of jello in hand, though you light up as you see him. "There's my baby," he coos, grinning as you roll your eyes. "What'd they say?"

"They ran a CT to make sure I didn't have anything abnormal going on," you report, "and it came back clear. My blood sugar was just really low, so I guess I passed out because of it. They're sending me home with a modified diet."

"Good," Ace says, tucking himself into the bed beside you despite your protest. "You scared me, babe."

"I'm sorry," you say as you let him tug you down, arms wrapped around you. "They'll be mad if they come in and you're asleep in this bed with me."

Ace presses his face to your chest. "Let them," he mumbles. "Don't care, I'm gonna nap with you."

"Brat," you tease, and he sighs.

"I'm your brat."

You hum, kissing the top of his head. "That you are."

[luniidae]

~ Stubborn ~

Chapter X

Note: Damn, it's been an eternity since the last chapter and I'm sorry for that. The last few months have been exhausting and it was hard for me to write, so... I don't know if I'm satisfied or not but hey, I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless 🖤

____________________________________

Raphael accepted to teach Luvia how to use her power, on one condition only: since the blood magic practice required a lot of energy, she would have to eat properly and daily again. Because despite her fancy appearance, Luvia has been weakened by all those days spent in her bedroom, barely eating anything. Her eyes weren't as shiny as usual, just like her skin.

Luvia used to be pale, but this time, she looked sick. Sick and exhausted. But she was determined to make everything she could to prove him she was strong enough to endure this new step in her magical education. She wanted to be the only owner of her body again, to be something, someone.

"What are they doing here ?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

About a week later, Luvia seemed to be in a better shape. Her face had regained color and the dark circles under her eyes had completly disappeared, almost as if nothing wrong ever happened. She looked ready.

One day, Raphael and her headed to the training room where the young woman used to practice magic with Korilla, the Cambion had brought five debtors with him.

"As indicated by its name, blood magic requires blood, and you'll make a use of theirs", he made a gesture to designate the miserable beings who followed him.

"But I can use mine", she replied with a hint of challenge in her eyes. Raphael chuckled.

"Oh no, you can't. Not yet. Don't be so eager ... You have to start from the beginning if you want to be as efficient as possible"

Luvia looked a bit annoyed by his response, but she couldn't really protest.

"One more thing before we begin though"

Raphael headed to the young woman

"Here, you'd need these", he handed her a pack of rings which were claw shaped,

"Your supposed claws are too short, so I had these made to fill this little... Inconvenience", he added almost coldly while he was taking one of her hands to put the rings at the end of her fingers.

Luvia's sudden transformation had a few side effects on her, including her nails which will never become claws. She felt a bit hurt by the way he talked about it, as if the fact that she would never be what she was supposed to be wasn't that important. His tone seemed almost reproving and it hurt her. It was his fault if she was in this state, his fault if her "claws" wasn't enough. She wanted to tell him but she remained calm.

"Be careful, they're very sharp", he warned her.

"Say that to them..." She answered with a bold look, giving a nod towards the debtors behind him.

"Do not play this game with me, Luvia ...", Raphael stared at her with a calm yet menacing look, "Now, let's get started"

He grabbed one of the debtors - an elf - and brought her before Luvia who suddenly looked a bit confused.

"... Is there anything wrong?", he asked.

The young woman hesitated for a second, then she finally spoke

"Have I ... To kill them ?"

"Well, it is up to you, but no, you don't have to"

"How am I supposed to do then?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"Be creative, Luvia. Feel free to scrape them, cut them, stab them, slice their throat, disembowel them even if you want. But remember this: you only need blood, not a slaughter"

The Dracanist had never hurt anyone before, beside her Lackey, but that was different... It was to protect herself.

The miserable woman sounded lost, she weren't really looking at Luvia, as if she couldn't see her.

"They're all doomed, Luvia. They're nothing but an empty shell, so do not hesitate. You won't have this luxury when you'll face more.... "Conscious" creatures", the devil said, stopping the track of her thoughts. Raphael was standing a few meters away, his arms crossed on his chest. 

Luvia took a step forward, grabbing the debtor's wrist delicately, making her shiver 

"Now, make it bleed"

His tone was clear. This was not a suggestion, but a command.

Slowly, gently even, Luvia made her index run along the woman's wrist. She stopped for a few seconds as she saw their flesh being cut as much easy as a piece of paper. Those claws were really sharp...

A scarlet line appeared on their pale flesh, and a few drops of blood fell on the floor, the uncomfortable drip resonating in the silence of the room. Luvia gulped as she couldn't tell how she was feeling at this very moment. It was a mix of disgust and fascination.

Her eyes began to glow with a scarlet sparkle while wisps of blood swirled around her head.. Her power was now awoken.

"What am I supposed to do now ?" She asked again, looking at Raphael.

"You're not controlling anything right now, you need to focus on a specific intention. This a mind game but it is not that different from your usual use of magic"

He took a few steps forward and reached her, looking down at the debtor's arms.

Luvia could feel the familiar sensation of the power within her, but it felt slightly different. She could feel her veins shivering of excitement and her blood boil, it wasn't unpleasant at all. It was warm and comforting, like a discreet yet friendly embrace. The swirls of blood started to crackle and glow as the Dracanist tried to concentrate. But she couldn't do anything with such a poor amount of blood. She needed more... She looked up at the elf, her eyes staring at everywhere and anywhere at the same time. Luvia couldn't help but feel sorry for her. They never have done anything to her and she didn't want to hurt them either but she needed to.

"Go on", the devil said, "You won't make any progress if you're so hesitating, unless..."

He paused for a second, "... Unless that is too much for your sensitive soul", he smirked, his chin resting on one of his fists.

She glared at him. He knew which button to press to make her react, he knew how strong her spirit of contradiction was and how she could be stubborn. And it worked.

However, she also noticed that Raphael used to keep his human form whenever they met recently. It was very unusual since he didn't need to hide his true form from anyone here. But she didn't dare to ask him why... Anyways, she wanted to show him he was wrong about her, and she took the debtor's other wrist firmly, having no idea that she was doing exactly what he expected from her.

Luvia frowned, hit right in her self-esteem. After everything she went through, after the horns, after Haarlep... Being called "sensitive" sounded like an insult in Raphael's mouth. She was mad at him for what he had done, for letting what happened to her happen. But she was even more mad at herself, because despite all of this, she was enjoying the moment and his presence. She has always liked spending time with him, but in those particular circumstances, she felt really dumb...

She took a deep breath, her gaze whispering a silent apology to the poor creature in front of her. She cut the elf's flesh again, confidently and stronger this time, and the crimson liquid flowed out her parted skin.

The bloody wirls became more intense and she could feel the power withing her increase. Luvia started playing with those bloody ribbons, making them dance around her hands and her fingers. She made them spark, crackle, flying away. She kept playing with these for several long minutes, forgetting about her victim, about Raphael, about everything. All this energy, this power, around her, this blood, it felt like.... Home. Like a faraway heritage she never knew yet hidden deep inside, waiting to be revealed.... And used.

Although Luvia thought only a few minutes had passed, her trance had actually lasted a little longer. After a moment, the debtor suddenly collapsed on the floor in a loud sound. Back to her, the Dracanist stepped back in astonishment.

"What happened to her ?!" Luvia exclaimed.

"Out of resources already.... Fine, next one", the Cambion said as he was turning on his heels, about to reach another guineapig 

"Why, what ? What do you mean ?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

"You know what happened, we studied it. Do not tell me you forgot everything already..."

"But I... I didn't imagine it would look like this", she admitted.

The debtor was laying down on the floor, completely dry and paler than ever, almost grey or blue. The elf seemed like "absorbed" from the inside and her eyes were nothing but dark holes now. The vision was disturbing since she now looked like an old corpse with an expression of terror. 

"Did I... Kill her ?", she asked, an uncertain echoe in her voice.

"You used her, that is different", he brought her a dwarf this time, he looked more agitated than the previous subject... 

"And you need another one. He's shorter but he's a tough one", he taped his shoulder and took a step back.

As if she had already forgotten about the poor elf, Luvia was surprised to feel more comfortable despite the troubled look of the new debtor. She almost..... Liked that ? She tried to shake off this feeling but she couldn't ignore this sense of satisfaction than was running through her body, to see the fear in their eyes, the apprehension of an inevitable moment... She felt more confident, but the young woman was still hesitating though.

"You want to try something else, don't you?", Raphael asked with a smirk, perfectly knowing the answer.

Luvia looked back at him, a hint of anticipation in her eyes. The sight and the smell of blood were intoxicating, almost natural to her, she wanted more of it and soon, the urge to take it would be stronger than the will to spare them.

”You know...", the devil started,"I said there was no need for a slaughter because I wasn't disposed to send anyone to clean the mess after. But i wouldn’t mind a little bloody show...”, he said nonchalantly 

"I...I don't know...", She said.

"Why come on, Luvia. We both know it is a matter of time before you finally accept this part of yourself"

The young woman raised an eyebrow.

"What do you know about myself anyway?" 

Raphael chuckled.

"Oh dear, you are like an open book. You are not very good at hiding your emotions, and looking into those crimson eyes of yours are enough to know that you're denying the truth, your thirst for blood. You are just too afraid to admit it.... Let me help you"

The Cambion snapped his fingers and the dwarf was now hanging up by his feet, screaming in panic like a pig. 

Luvia frowned since the sound of the debtor was really annoying.

The dwarf was gesticulating in all directions in a vain attempt to free himself. Luvia wondered if he was aware of what was happening and what was going to happen to him. She could almost have felt compassion if seeing him in this state had not awakened something else in her: a primal, voracious instinct, a hunter's instinct that was just waiting to blossom.

Killing prey that didn't flee or resist wasn't stimulating. That had been the case with the elf. Static, submissive, it didn't take much effort or pleasure to settle her score. On the other hand, a prey fighting for its life... This is a very interesting spectacle. Luvia was doing her best not to let this new sensation overwhelm her, but deep down she wanted to see him run, flee from her, hoping to escape her.

She imagined catching up with him and pouncing on him like a displacer beast. She would have pierced his flesh, would have marked him alive, taken his vital essence to increase her power... Luvia shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Come on, it's never good to repress your true nature", said Raphael playfully, "Or are you really not ready for this training", he added with a hint of challenge.

It's true that Luvia wasn't supposed to start this early. After all, despite her grown up appearance, she was barely 15 years old. Perhaps she should have waited before confronting herself with the tumults of her deep nature. But Luvia didn't care...

Everything always went too fast in her life anyway, today wouldn't be an exception. She glared at Raphael, and with a violent slash of her claws, slit the throat of the poor dwarf who began to bleed out in grotesque suffocation, his eyes bulging, gesticulating even more. Once again, the reddish liquid began to glow upon contact with Luvia, enveloping her in a scarlet swirl... The more she wielded this power of hers, the more her brain felt "anesthetized", making her incapable of feeling the slightest scruple or feeling of empathy towards the poor wretches she mutilated. She almost ended up getting a taste for it.

However, despite her efforts, she was unable to maintain the flow of her magical energy. Once her victim ran out of blood and died, the scarlet swirls would disappear. She concentrated harder, cutting into the pulpits in various ways, in various places, in the hope that it would make a difference. In vain. And soon, the ground was littered with corpses bathing in their own blood.

“That will be enough for today, Luvia” Raphael told her, slowly approaching her and struggling to avoid the pools of blood.

“No, I can do it!” retorted the young woman in a determined but slightly panicked tone. If there was one thing that Luvia had trouble dealing with, especially at her young age, it was frustration, and she couldn't stand the idea of ​​being interrupted in her progress.

“I said, that’s enough”, insisted the Cambion firmly, slightly annoyed to see her once again challenging his authority.

"But I was almost there! I only need a few more. Two or three at most! It's not as if the corridors were empty of them!", she replied in an almost authoritarian and flippant tone.

Raphael didn't know what to answer at the moment, taken aback by the bitterness of her words. His eyes widened for a brief moment then seemed to soften. The subject had never been broached until now... To tell the truth, he had never intended to do so, which did not seem to be the case for Luvia who was struggling more and more to keep her calm.

"It would be so easy, huh?", she continued in a sarcastic tone, "To just... Do it again and... And... Leave me...."

Her voice cracked and her fists clenched so tightly that her hands were quickly covered in her own blood. Blood which crackled only very faintly. She was doing everything possible not to let her emotions carry her away, but her breathing quickened and keeping her teary eyes wide open didn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks without the slightest effort. Luvia couldn't finish her sentence.

It was too painful for her, but there seemed to be something else. With what she had endured recently, and added to that a first approach to blood magic that was intense to say the least, it was logical that the young Dracanist was somewhat "disturbed", and her vision became blurred.

Her face, which had previously displayed an expression of anger and pain, was suddenly very expressionless, almost lifeless, with a hint of worry. Her eyes finally rolled back as the muscles in her legs gave out. Raphael barely had time to catch her before she hit the ground.

The Devil had acted without thinking, which surprised him. Ordinarily, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger and let her fall on the floor. He carried her out of the room and ordered other debtors to clean up the place while he took her back to his room, just like he did a few weeks ago, when he took her from the Boudoir. She seemed so peaceful, and yet there was a real storm brewing beneath the surface. The next few months, maybe even the next few years, would not be easy for her...

Luvia woke up in her room two or three hours later, her vision blurry and her head heavy, trying to put her mind in order. She briefly remembered the last events, her training with Raphael and her inability to control her power. She felt ridiculous, useless, she wanted to succeed on the first try, but she was far too ambitious... Or...

She noticed a plate next to her bed, full of fruits and pastries...

"For my stubborn little mouse"

The note said.

........ Yes, stubborn.....

To be continued...

BONUS:

[goldenempyrean]

i have a supergirl request for sick alex at the deo with prompt “Goodness, you look like your about to pass out.”   “Don't come too close. You don’t wanna catch this.”   And “It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles.”  if thats okay? x female reader please

Wintertime Woes

〚 Notes - I am loving these Alex requests recently :D Also the amount of content I'm feeding you all with lately damn, I'm in my "let's write 95 stories in a day and don't sleep" era. Enjoy while it lasts :,)〛

〚 Pairing - Alex Danvers x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - During a flu outbreak at the DEO, Alex falls ill and tries to push through her responsibilities despite her worsening condition. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1200 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Winter had always been Alex’s favourite season. The crisp, cool air and the occasional pile of unmeted snow that covered the curbs somehow always made her feel calm. She loved it all. However, there were inconveniences to the wintertime, namely slippery roads, frigid hands, and most prominently, sickness. 

The flu had been sweeping its way through the DEO - it was bound too this time of year. With so many agents working in such close contact it was almost impossible to avoid. Not matter their rank or importance, it eventually made its way round the squad’s and not even the Director herself was spared. 

Alex stood woozily in the control area, her hand clutching a crumpled-up tissue as she leant over the main desk, her other clumsily rubbing at her temple. She looked awful. Your soft hand came to slide round her waist from behind and the exhausted woman sank into your touch. 

She coughed into her tissue, “Don’t come too close, you don’t want to catch this.” Alex warned through her croaking voice, yet she made no effort to move away. 

“I’ll take that risk. You weren’t sick this morning, what happened?” You mumbled worriedly, burying your head into her neck, prompting her to rest her head against yours. 

“The flu is characterised by a rapid on-set of symptoms. It’s been spreading like wildfire around here, you know that.” Alex whispered before her voice broke off into a hitch. 

You felt her body tense up, and you quickly reached for a nearby tissue box, pulling out a fresh one and handing it to her just in time. Alex sneezed loudly, and you could tell she was trying her best to suppress it, but her body couldn't hold it back any longer. 

“Bless you!” Kara called out as she came flying into the building (she’d just finished assisting the fire department with an accident downtown) 

“And again, my my, bless you love.” You repeated her sister’s words, gently rubbing Alex's back as she sneezed for the second time. Her body felt warm against your touch, and you knew she was hopelessly fighting a fever. 

"Thanks," Alex rasped weakly, her voice flooded with congestion as she pulled out of your hold to grab some tissues to blow her rapidly reddening nose.  

"It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles," Alex replied with a weak smile, trying to maintain her composure despite feeling so unwell. She knew her responsibilities at the DEO were crucial, after all, without her there to manage and dispatch agents who would keep things running smoothly? 

She was stubborn, that was sure. It took another hour of misery before Alex reluctantly gave in and gave shuffling into the room where you were training some new recruits. 

“Alright guys, that’s enough for today.” You dismissed the group, letting them leave the room before opening your arms and letting the feverish woman fold into them, “Your breathing sounds awful y’know.” You sighed, at the small raspy breathes coming from the woman in your hold. 

“I’ve been told.” She muttered, keeping herself close to you, sniffling against your shoulder. 

You shook your head lightly, “We should get you laying down. Come on.” 

She continued to sniffle and sneeze as you gently guided her towards the infirmary. Her steps were slow and unsteady as the two of you made your way. Though you practically had to carry her up the stairs the two of you finally got her there, being met at the door by Kara and Lena. 

“I called her,” Kara explained as Alex curled herself onto one of the medical beds. 

Lena approached with a concerned expression, placing a hand on Alex's forehead before scanning a thermometer along her brow. "39 degrees, you're burning up, Alex. You should’ve rested when you first felt this coming on.” She said softly, glancing at you with gratitude for bringing Alex to the infirmary. 

Kara hovered nearby, her super hearing detecting Alex's irregular breathing and rapid heartbeat. "I'll grab some water and a cool cloth," she suggested, zipping away and returning quickly with the items. 

You stayed by Alex's side, gently wiping her forehead with the cool cloth as Kara handed her a glass of water. "Try to drink a little,love. It might help with the fever," you encouraged, giving her a reassuring smile as she held your hand, rubbing her thumb over your own. 

Alex took a few sips, but it was evident that she was struggling to keep herself composed. "I... I hate being so out of commission," she admitted weakly, her eyes showing a mix of frustration and vulnerability. 

Lena spoke softly, her caring tone trying to comfort her friend, “You need rest to recover properly. I’ve seen how hard you work yourself here, nobody’s going to forget that if you take a few days to look after yourself for a change.” 

Kara nodded in agreement, sitting by Alex's side. "We'll take care of the DEO for now. You just focus on getting better," she said, giving you an affirming nod. 

With concern etched on your face, you gently squeezed Alex's hand. "They're right, Alex. The DEO will be okay, and we'll handle things while you rest. You need to prioritize your health now." 

Alex's tired eyes softened as she looked at you, appreciating the support from her friends and you. "Okay," she finally relented, realizing that she couldn't keep pushing herself like this. "But promise me you'll keep me updated on everything?" 

"We promise," Lena replied, speaking for both her and Kara. "You can count on us." 

Kara placed a reassuring hand on Alex's shoulder. "And I'll keep checking in on you, Lena’s gonna write you a prescription for some Tamiflu, I’ll pick it up and drop it off for you tonight. 

With that said, you helped the shivering Director from the bed, letting her lean fully against you as you led her from the building. Where a DEO issued car was already waiting to pick you both up. 

During the ride, Alex gave into her exhaustion and fell asleep against your shoulder. You held her close, running your hand through her silky hair. By the time you’d reached her studio, Alex was completely passed out. Nothing short of a city-wide invasion would be waking her now.  

Carrying her up to her room, you made sure to tuck her safely into bed, gently pulling off her uniform and changing her into some softer, more comfortable clothes before climbing into the open space beside her, smiling as even in her sleep she snuggled up beside you. 

“Sleep well baby.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head, “and you will be definitely taking a sick day tomorrow, Director Danvers.” 

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[cloveswifey]

PERIOD TROUBLES

JJ maybank x Fem/reader

Type: Fluff

Warning: sexual implications, kissing, period?

As you woke up this morning you felt a weird sensation in your stomach, which could only mean one thing..

You'd gotten your period so you weren't exactly feeling great, having to work today wasn't exactly the greatest of things right now.

————————————————————

After another long day of work (and cramps) rushing around the country club, cleaning tables and serving rich snobs. You were really drained and all you wanted to do was lie down.

You finally arrived home after a painful journey home, but as you was walking to my room you felt arms around your waist "hi baby " JJ says as he kisses your cheek.

"Hi there" you smile,

"Where you off to" he asks, digging his face into your neck.

"To our room, I really need to lie down" you reply, continuing to walk there, he follows you and when you both get into the room, you fall on the bed and let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm so tired" you mumble through the pillows,

"long day?" he asks as he lies down next to you.

You nod in reply and turn over so your now looking at the ceiling like him "and I'm sick of cleaning tables" you whine.

He chuckles and sits up leaning on his elbow, looking down at you "Me too, but since we can't do anything about that" he said then pecked you on the lips and continued "how about we make the most of the alone time we get"

You laugh and he leans down and gives you a proper kiss, you feel his tongue enter your mouth and you tangle your hands in his hair.

The kiss continues to get more heated and he moves his head and begins to kiss your neck, you moan when he finds your sweet spot and feel his hand travel lower and lower until it finds the place you want him most.

You suddenly realise that you're on your period and your heart sinks, "damn it" you blurted out.

He stops immediately and looks at you quizzically "Did I do something wrong?" he asks worried,

"No" you giggle "sorry Jay, It's inconveniently that time of month, so we can't" you say guiltily.

"Hey don't worry" and brings his hand up to your cheek "It's not your fault, lets just cuddle yeah?"

you smile and reply "yeah, but we can still make out" and put your lips back together.

[boabelboo]

ok but now I need azurtiger content you gave me a new otp

OLDER COUSINS SOULMATES FOREVER

THEYRE MY LOVES FOREVER AND ALWAYS OK!!!!! so i have this little au i cooked up where something causes tigris to rebel earlier (maybe like 5-10 years post-tbosas) and coriolanus sends her to twelve to serve as a peacekeeper, since his resentment of the place is somewhat still fresh in his mind.

before you read: tw for suicidal thoughts and mentions of murder (just thg stuff in general)

here's a little scenario that ive been thinking of from said au (which i'll probably turn into a one-shot soon!)

- so tigris is depressed and resents the capitol for what they did to her, and also for what they've been doing to victors and tributes this whole time.

- she ends up wandering off to the meadow at one point, sick of the constant noise of the district and the duties of being a peacekeeper. at this point, she's contemplating suicide. she hates that she's actively aiding the capitol and wants her duties to end, though they can't because she needs to serve for at least twenty years.

- she sits down on the old rock lucy gray used to use when she was writing her songs, and spots an old goat in the distance. his lead is roped to a tree branch, so his owner is definitely around here somewhere.

- suddenly, barb azure comes up behind tigris, startling her.

- barb only spots tigris' clothing, peacekeeper fatigues.

- "you know damn well you ain't supposed to be around here, peacekeeper. get lost."

- tigris turns around, and barb looks at her blankly, not recognising her as one of the peacekeepers that comes around trying to cause trouble with the covey.

- tigris seems to almost be entranced, she isn't sure how to respond.

- barb doesn't budge on her point, though, having dealt with spiteful peacekeepers a hundred times over.

- "can you hear me? i said go!"

- "oh, i'm-, im sorry. i never knew this meadow was out of bounds. ill get out of your hair."

- barb azure pauses, recognising tigris and her accent from somewhere.

- "you're new 'round here, aren't you?"

- "yes, yes i am. i arrived here about a week ago.. from the capitol. look, im-.." she pauses, trying to read the expression on barb's face. "im really sorry for the inconvenience, ill be sure never to cross this field again if its that much of a bother, i had no idea-"

- barb interrupts her, remembering something. she always was good with faces.

- "i know you from somewhere.. from somebody." after a long stare between the two, something clicks for barb, so apparent so that tigris can see it on her face. "you're snow's cousin, ain't you? well, what's a fancy capitol girl like yourself doing all the way out here? thought it'd be fun, did you? to rub it in our faces that she's gone. well it was him that did it! he killed our lucy gray, not the mayor! and he's gonna pay for it, you mark my words! i may not be able to say nothing in the district, but here i can! he killed her!"

- all tigris can manage to get barb to hear over the shouting is "please, please listen to me. i know what he did! he sent me here! he sent me here with no money, no contact with the capitol and twenty years of peacekeeper duty. i know how you feel, i felt it too! that's why i told him he can't go on like this. that's why im here now. i want to help."

- tigris sits back down on the rock, the tears that have been brewing from years of watching her coryo become somebody else now silently streaming down her cheeks. she hates coriolanus. she hates him.

- barb walks over to her, she hates seeing people cry.

- "you really wanna help, huh?"

- tigris tries to stifle her tears to speak, but its no use.

- "i.. i do. it's what i've been trying to do for the past five years. small things. things i can do to help you from inside the capitol. until he noticed, and it was too late. i think it was lucy gray who made me realise that this world needed changing, and im so, so sorry for what he did to her, and the fact that i couldn't stop him from becoming.. a monster."

- barb sits down next to tigris, and wipes a tear from her cheek. she then says in a soft, comforting tone, which is a stark contrast to how she was just a few minutes before:

- "why don't you come in. we'll talk over some tea."

aaand that's all i have so far!! tysm for the ask, im so glad that i could get someone else to ship them!!

[chounaifu]

What does your muse think of mine?

@reiketsui :

we don't talk about it. that had been the first line of the wordless pact defining this situationship from the start. as long as everything was kept inside locked doors, there was nothing there that could keep me awake at night. no dead body to bury under the floorboards of the hotel room where we take each other apart – no pretending like we don't see the single bullet shot on its forehead. it turned from a simple convenience to a dizzying inconvenience, from nuisance to a blessing, from nonchalance to obsession that burns like molten lava in my veins. we both know it's here, yet it's never talked about. would ignorance be a bliss? it's difficult to recognize the person i become with you. i fear one night i will say it without thinking. i can imagine the scenario. you drop by unannounced again, and we end up in bed tangled in each other's arms. i'm foolish enough to let go of yet another inhibition, only to realize there isn't any left. suddenly, the restraint isn't there, and i should be horrified by the realization. instead, i take the only chance i get in this lifetime. i love you. i love you. i love you. but you already know.

You fucking idiot.

You stupid fucking bastard.

You've ruined me in ways that I would allow again and again. You've made it impossible to hide around you; there's nothing that you don't know about me, you understand every inch of my body and my psyche so intimately, it makes me feel sick to my stomach at times.

Sick because, I constantly wonder if you will continue to dig through my cranium until you are eroded by the same ichor that drips from it. You scold me for having no self-preservation instinct, but it was you who was ready to lay your life down for all of us on that suicide mission in Goldenrod.

I hate how much you force me to worry about mortality.

You were an unmoving, unshakable entity made of ice, far from human, feeling NOTHING, indestructible, until I saw you plugged into the same machines that kept me alive in the infirmary. I can't stand to look at almost any psychic type now because of that incident. You're mortal, you're physically mortal even though my brain assigned the role of 'god' when I decided that I hated you, and that scares me, because mortal men can die. And if you lose your life, that means I've failed to protect you. That means I've broken my promise.

You know the one.

Or maybe you were too delirious and over-exhausted to remember what I told you when you were crumbled against your desk. It'd been days since you'd seen sunlight. Did you think you didn't deserve to feel it on your skin until you punished yourself for every mistake you didn't actually make? I hate that you make me worry so god damn much.

It's not that I don't think you can handle yourself.

It's that I can't handle the thought of you dropping dead if I have anything to say about it.

Because nobody else gets me like you.

Nobody else knows me like you.

You saw me become a fucking monster and it brought you closer to me.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Don't you realize I could kill you?

Don't you realize how badly I wanted to for so long?

Because if I took your last breathe myself, nobody else would have the privilege. Nobody else would be able to hurt you. Nobody else would force you to be Atlas ever again.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I'd kill for you.

You're mine.

Don't leave me.

[exrankluck]

Dear Vocalist Momochi Translation — @ NI・GA・TE

disclaimer: this is 90% AI-generated transcription and translation, some things might be inaccurate or awkward.

this is a bonus drama that came with the xtreme cd !

「Dear❤Vocalist Xtreme」 Tower Record Drama CD 「プライベート・ヴォーカリスト NI・GA・TE♥」 エントリーNo.5 モモチ CV.豊永利行

Ahh, that was close. We made it in time somehow.

Hey, you. When we get to the studio, someone might try to talk to you, but just ignore them, okay?

Got it?

I'm telling you, if you have any unnecessary conversations with the members or staff, you'll regret it later-

Tsk. Ah?! A-Ah…

Er, everyone!

Sorry for being late!

We were killing time at the cafe and she suddenly started feeling sick! Ahaha…

Yeah, but it looks like she's okay now! Right~?

Oh, mhm. Today's just a photo shoot for a magazine, so I wasn't planning on bringing her along…

Ah, this one here! She’s a big fan of the photographer who will be in charge of today's shoot!

She said she really wanted to come and watch, so I brought her along.

I'll make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way... is that okay?

Thank you!

Y-Yeah.

It seems that way. The photographer is world-famous, right?

I'm really excited to have someone like that take my picture! I might even ask for their autograph on the way out, aha ha ha…

Ah, they've already called the car around. But we'll take a taxi there.

If her condition worsens again during the trip there, I don't want to inconvenience everyone, ehe.

No, it’s really fine. Don’t worry, we’re totally okay!

I know where the studio is, so don't worry and go ahead.

Yeah, see you later then!

sigh…Don’t just come out of nowhere and suddenly talk to me like that, tsk.

Look, we're going too. We’ll catch a taxi over there, so come with me.

[02:26]

Then, I have to go have makeup and stuff done now.

Hah? You’re excited?

You're not really planning on watching the shoot, are you~?

That's not allowed, you know. I'll be distracted if you're there.

So… I was thinking I would have you stay in a special place until it's over, hehe.

Of course. It’s here.

You can tell by looking, right? It's the cleaning supply closet.

It's a little narrow but if it’s just you, you should be able to squeeze in there, right?

I'll tell the other members you went home because you weren't feeling well or something, so don't come out of here until I say it's okay.

Got it?

Okay, hurry up and get in then.

Phew, that's good.

Alright, let's do our best for the shoot~

[03:50]

Eh, is that so? Then, is the pose like this for the next one?

I'm so happy to be praised by such a famous photographer!

Uh? What’s that thing you were talking about?

Ehh, techniques to bring out my best traits?

I wonder what it is. I'm excited.

Huh, what is that? A bucket?

W-wait a minute, techniques mean like - is this - huh - wait -

?!

Are you still gonna pour it on me?!

koff koff

…I-Is that so? That's good, if it's as you envisioned…ahahaha…

Ugh, this damn photographer, I want to hit him right now…!!

[5:20]

sigh What the hell was that photoshoot just now?

You can't just suddenly throw buckets of water on me over and over, can you?!

At least tell me beforehand!

Enough. I'm never doing this magazine again.

[5:38]

Yeah, that's true. I haven't even removed my makeup yet, so it might take a little longer.

Everyone else finished, right?

Then you can go home first. Thanks for your hard work.

Eh? You're waiting for me?

Why?

We're going out for drinks…all of us?

O-Oh, mhm. She left earlier.

Eh? Huh? Wait...

No, it's not about reserving seats or anything like that.

I never said I was going.

[06:40]

Late.

What are you doing?

I said to answer within 3 rings, didn’t I?

I'll hold it against you later.

By the way, you're still in the storage room from earlier, right?

Yeah.

Then come out of there right now and come to a store called Kararia on the second floor of the building, next to the studio.

It's a shitty closet, so even if it's locked, you can open it from the inside, right?

LINE (text) me when you’re in front of the store.

Come within 10 minutes.

See you!

[07:39]

Tsk, they’re still not here.

…Eh?

No no, I'm not talking about the drinks, forget I said anything!

*phone vibrates*

Uh - Huh? I wonder what's wrong with her…?!

Well... she made it home but she seems to be feeling really sick. Maybe I should take her to the hospital.

That’s right. I'm worried about her, so is it okay if I go home first?

I know we were just having fun here, sorry!

[08:34]

Ahh, I’m tired.

Come on, you too. Let's go home quickly.

And by the way, you're way too late.

I said to come within 10 minutes, what happened?

I wanted to go home as fast as possible.

Anyways…

When we get back, you'll be punished for eeeverything at once.

So be ready for it.

Got it~?

[ashterblaster]

Alrighty! Since my earlier post got a few notes, I'll go ahead and post the first half of my Radiostatic fic here! Warning, it's p short but I'm excited to see where it goes, as I've got the first half of part two pretty much fleshed out. Would love comments/reblogs to see how it was received! Hope y'all enjoy~

Summary: Vox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alastor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way.

It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 

The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 

He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.

Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.

Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.

He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.

“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”

“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”

Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 

“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”

“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 

Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?…” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 

“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 

Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”

After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.

‘He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?’ Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 

Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 

As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.

Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 

Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 

Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.

“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch… was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–

“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”

His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 

“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head…” 

“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 

“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it ever being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?

“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 

“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 

Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.

“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 

“Wait, what?”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 

Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…

“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 

“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 

“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”

“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”

“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–

“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 

Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 

“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 

“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 

“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 

Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 

“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”

Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 

“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 

Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 

By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.

Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 

[noonmutter]

my brain is an annoying little douchebag that tries way too hard to convince me that I should just keep doing something I hate that is making me miserable because it might--not will, not does, but might--inconvenience other people, particularly my coworkers

starting a 50/50 remote version of my job sounded great in March, but then the last six months reminded me that they still have a shitload of fallout to contend with

as a reminder, since November, this household has had

two car accidents

a family death

an illness that had me friggin hallucinating

a charity event I was really excited about getting yanked out from under me

witnessing another super bad car accident what the fuck that taught me that I am now mildly triggered by the smell of air bag deployment,

other guy's car insurance ghosting us the entire fucking time

my eldest cat getting so sick that we were scared he was going to vomit himself to death

the plumbing for the entire house backing up

probably some other shit I can't remember right now. I made a list but I'm too burnt out to pull it up

and yet here I am, trying to learn new processes and figure out a new internal hierarchy and change my schedule and drive less and not have to work weekends anymore but that means I also don't have a weekday free which is really fuckin problematic when I have to keep talking to doctors, insurance companies, and billing companies at the drop of a goddamn hat

and then I finally get to take a few days off, which I scheduled at the beginning of the year, my first actual vacation since January (where, as a reminder, I was violently sick the entire time), and I realize just how much stress I was getting rid of while not working...

fuck me. I'm so mad. I used to be a machine. and it's bad that I was. but I'm still mad that I can't be anymore. I didn't get to freely choose to stop pushing myself too damn hard, and that's bullshit

I'm so fucking angry at that asshole who nearly killed us, all over again, and my emotions in general are wierd and spiky all the time (relatively speaking, I guess. I don't have manic episodes but I definitely have distinct up and down periods that even I'm noticing). and I need to not be doing the remote job anymore. It's been a little over a month of that and feeling like I'm doing two jobs is. not helping.

don't be a shitty driver, kids. even if you don't kill anybody, it sucks. I wasn't even a driver at all in my accident, I was a passenger, and the other driver was the shitty driver, and my spouse and I almost died because of them, and the almost-dying is the least agonizing part when all is said and done. the hospital was at least attentive and polite.

Iunno I just needed to rant. I'm angry about a ton of shit that I can do virtually nothing about and I have nowhere to put it except harmlessly in text where it won't get me fired. probably.

[atrial-ofhorror-if]

Hey, y'all! It's that time of the month again~~ Time for a monthly update!! 

I want to start this off with checking in on you guys. How's everyone doing? The year just started but it just feels like time is moving so fast already. I hope that this year will be much kinder to us all than it has been 🙏🏿🙏🏿 last year really tried to knock my dome top off, but I'm still here, so thats something. Let's all do our best, and kick or at least bruise the universes ass!

Clerical Updates

I have some changes that I'm planning for the Itch.io page, guys 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿First thing first, I want to change the game's title screen. I had initially made it in Canva with the aid of a friend from work, but as I continue to work through the game, I feel like there could be a much more fitting image. However, your girl isn't a graphic designer, so I want to commission someone to make a header or some shit.

Then I want to add a game starting page into the actual demo. I’ve looked at some examples from other IF writers who have made one, but I think my code is wrong (as it usually is), so I’m pacing back and forth trying to figure out exactly how and what I’m doing wrong. stay tuned for the shenanigans, cause I bet its something super simple 🙃🙃

I've been slowing down in writing. I typically write in my Google docs app on my phone, it's easier than opening my laptop, but the app has been having hella issues. I think it's because of the document size, so it's been significantly slowing down my writing time. I've been looking into alternative apps, so if anyone has recommendations, let me know. 

Game Progress

 I am officially at 60k+ words!!  

To be well (Alex’s Route): 49%

Search and Destroy (Mark's Route): <1%

Interlude (Intermission): 4%

So far, I have three big scenes left to write in Alex’s route. 

North Wing. Nuff said.

Convergent: not to be confused with divergence

Isekai? Isekai. 

Once I've written those scenes out, the rest will be smooth sailing. I just have ends to tie up and scenes to flesh out before I can finally push it into editing. I might do some of the fleshing out during editing to make it easier on myself (and to give myself a break), but I am just trying to go with the flow.

Once I push the game into editing, I'll take a break before I start on Mark's route. I'm still dealing with fatigue from Miss Rona despite having the same progress I had before I got sick but it just feels... weird. Like your girl is trapped in a slumber or something and I can't get out, but now I'm being anecdotal.

Back onto topic.

I want to talk about Mark's route for a moment. Because it truly is the bane of my existence, and I'm DREADING having to write it. I have three possible ways of how I want to deal with it:

Write the damn thing out, and stop bitching. Not ideal

Don't write it and be great 😤😤😤 most ideal

Release Alex's route once done with editing and worry about Mark at a later date. also not ideal cause then I have to come back to it! 🥴🤧😭

So, the last option is something I'm looking at real disrespectfully. Partially because I'm probably going to have to rewrite some of the subplots because when I plotted the outline for the entire episode, I had a precise idea of what was to occur. But Alex's route completely shifted from what was supposed to be there into something that I don't even recognize. Which isn't a bad thing, just… an inconvenience 🥴🥴

Therefore a lot of things that were supposed to happen just didn't. Which, again, isn't a bad thing. It just means that I need to reign the plot in again. I could finesse a lot of the content to make it flow, BUT that will take me some time.

So, in short... I still don't know what I'm gonna do!! 😭😭 but I probably will end up writing Mark's route cause I don't want to end up shorting you guys on content just cause I'm feeling lazy.

This episode has a LOT of variety in it. Like, I'm not even bullshitting. I'm aiming to make it so that you guys can replay it as often as you desire and still find new things you would have missed. (To make up for the fact that episode 2 probably won't be released until next year if we're being honest 🥴🥴)

The interlude isn't even something I'm thinking about at the moment. Partially because I'm trying to push through Episode 1, get done with Alex's Route and start on Mark's. A portion of it will still be in the update, but I'm debating if its going to be even smaller than what I intended it to be. Possibly? But again, I'm not so much of a planner as much as I am a 'go with the flow'er.

I'm hoping to drop pieces of the interlude this year until it's whole, instead of just writing the entire thing, cause I swear I'm not doing this shit again, lol 🤣🤣. Either way, I will keep you guys updated if anything changes.

I think that's it? If you guys have any questions, you know what to do. And if you need anything, let me know! I'm semi-available (not really) on the weekdays so I'll try to answer any asks as quickly as I can. But either way, love y'all 🤎🤎

[jollythunderstorms]

anyway, here's my the mysterious benedict society s2e2 — 🧵

"pirates are just doing their jobs" sticky i love you

captain noland's speech just called my english skills a bitch, i legit got every other word T.T

love how constance's go-to cover story is ghosts, i legit have used this joke multiple times

the scene where the society first runs into the girls is so funny like? i'm not a sports girly by any means but the girls are wearing tracksuits that kate mistakes for cricket ones but sticky points out they have 'waterpolo' written on them but also their arm patches have a tetherball??? what sport are we playing? i also just noticed i've never actually seen a modern cricket uniform. i thought we all still dressed like we were in the early 20th century

constance being fulled to do work by the reward of food is so me

virgin canonball asking for permission to speak freely vs chad number two just going for it

me holding canonball: my baby my baby you are my baby

"my job is already in jeopardy. I feel the walls closing in on me" <- me at any minor inconvenience

me looking at the cloud classification (cumulus humilis) in the opening credits: oh sick ghost reference

i finally noticed number two's sequence has a map of luxembourg, place of birth maybe? but then again reynie's has portugal so maybe it's about language proficiency?? if i get number two speaking german or french i will get weak at the knees i swear to god

ms perumal being versed in the sciences but also the humanities is something than can be so special to me <3

is the blueberry the emergency? vote now on your phones

i can't believe they took number two's square! IT'S CLOTH WHAT IS SHE GONNA DO WITH A SQUARE OF FUCKING?! dark craig zeisk release the forbidden extended cut where number two strangles curtain with a 10x10 square of green plaid

how does he know she likes woodworking??? gay recognizes gay? regardless get away from her get a job

curtain talking about the subtlety of the kidnapping just makes me laugh because all i can think about is number two kicking and screaming her little heart out in the back of the taxi

number two, exploding curtain with her mind: "I. don't. want. your. tea."

JACKSON AND JILLSON MY GAY CHILDREN ARE HERE

"thank you for your trust :D" "oh, we don't trust you :|"

i love how kate never thought to knock on the rooms BEFORE trying to pick the lock. proof braincells go to bed sometimes

I AM CONSTANCE AND CONSTANCE IS ME

"healthy distance" i say as i ignore everyone around me

psychic children and now cannibalistic clowns?! this show has everything

the inverness is beautiful

god milligan is in full dad mode i love him he's so stressed

mr benedict immediate noticing the kid and stepping back, i'm fine

simultaneously laughing and retching after jackson and jillson speak in unison everytime

is that how 'devotes' is pronounced? or is it a separated word from 'devotees'?

jillson keeping her highsocks is so cute

"sebastian is from brazil" "brazil"

this actor's eyes and smile are so unsettling, he's so well casted

the houses remind me of eleanor's from the good place, not good

curtain bought actual bookshelves! with actual real books!! sucess!!!

love how, while number two worries about rhonda and milligan, mr benedict worries about the children and instantly knows they will try to come rescue them! none of the adults clocked them that fast. ugh i love him

"sweet suite" love

oh man nine books for nine occupants? wonder if it's symbolic or if i'm just reading (hehe) too much into it

i'm actually kind of scared of ceiling fans, fun fact

oh damn the sugar

as someone with anxiety, i'm formally diagnosing captain noland right now

true friendship illuminates? gay

"you feel too much. it will get us killed" i know she's joking but shut up constance i'm so scared right now! you shut up!

if you ever wondered how i speak english (second language) this scene with the team is exactly it

the way mr benedict rolls his eyes as number two starts on her healthy food talk is so funny. man's hear it a thousand times before

mr benedict's smile dropping so fast after the fit comment is a masterclass in acting. kristen's facial expressions continue to be the best. also find it interesting they changed it to "almost as sweet" in the latam sub

why is number two looking at mr benedict when there's a strange man all up in his face? wrong person number two!

love mr benedict blurting out spanish (half of 'hasta luego') instead of portuguese ('até logo') as sebastian says goodbye

*walter white vo* NOOO KATE NO DON'T LISTEN TO THEM NOOOO YOUR TECHNIQUE IS GONNA BE SHIT THEY ARE NOT REAL POLO PLAYERS KATEEEEE LISTEN TO ME KATEEE THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT

"we don't love labels" WE WHO YOU AREEEE FOR YOUR PRIDEEEEE

i like to think rhonda and ms perumal took shifts hearing milligan talk about fatherhood, girly in the back is dead to the world and ms perumal looks on her way to join her

"your faith in me is inspiring, number two, but I'm not an accomplished climber" "just do what i do. pretend you're an angry howler monkey and at the top of the fence is the person who stole your jackfruit" you are so weird and off putting, babygirl

THE WAY NUMBER TWO DOESN'T EVEN LOOK CONCERNED JUST DISAPPOINTED IM LOSING MY MIND ALSKJFHSHGS

SQ!!! MY SON! WHERE IS HE?!

"it's a defensive fence. we're protecting the vibe" ALKSHDGGHAJSDH

"i've tried to acknowledge my part in your pain" NOO NICHOLAS YOU DID NOTHING WRONG

"you are holding onto an outdated view of me" hate to say it but he's right. also what is he speaking like that?

so THAT'S what the tiktok girlies are doing

i'm going to beat the shit out of curtain

constance contrarie i love your brain

"cannonball, what do you know about home equity lines of credit?" save my man

"the greeks were terrible artists." SAY IT

this is censorship! let my girl bully reynie

well rip that married couple

[battle-acs-official]

Okay, before I say anything else, I'd like to point out that:

I AM THE EXCEPTION, NOT THE RULE!!!

If you are thinking of, or being made to, get off of a strong drug, please do so slowly, carefully and with people who care for you and can help you if things become dangerous.

That being said, I've long known that I have had an indomitable constitution and resistance against sickness and drugs, even to the point of needing extra strength doses of common medications, such as antibiotics, when I actually need them.

2 weeks ago, I was at a point of taking 3-4 10mg Hydrocodone, 2-3 times a day. This was my own fault, done behind my family's back, betraying their generosity, and trust me, I'm paying in blood and sweat for it. Winter, rain, cold winds and dropping my addiction cold-turkey, I'm paying in all the yardwork that's been neglected, finding a job, and cracking down on my work again under my grandma's old cram-school discipline.

...But.

I'm realizing that, between taking so much Hydro, and just suddenly dropping it... I'm not feeling the withdrawals. I looked it up, I should be damn near shitting my soul out and shaking like a millennial buying something from a human cashier. I should be feeling like I'm dying.

Yet, I'm just... mildly achy? That's literally it? The worst is that I've got nothing for when my bad tooth goes thermonuclear again (which is gonna be fun...).

Hell, if anything, I feel... Stronger. Like the knowledge that something that's been the death of so many can only manage to slightly inconvenience me, even when going through my punishments is... a source of pride.

The mistake has been made. The punishment is being meted out, and I'm only becoming better for it, despite the temptation. The little snake whispering of the bliss I could have is crushed in my hand and it's fangs can't hurt me.

As I said before, do not take me as an example. If you're suffering from drug addiction or drug withdrawls, contact those who can help you.

I just felt it was important to make a statement that might help explain why my game has basically vanished from my blog for so long and why I've been so inconsistent with chatting with everyone (all 2 of you XD) and let you know that I'm on my way to recovery. I also plan on starting streaming (soon™), so look forward to that. Sort of a Gaming/Chatting idea. I'll get more into that later.

Thank you for reading this ramble. Uh... Terminate transmission or something, idk.

[belgianhistoryguy]

A sickness of the era

We live in a time of pretty brutal individualism, where a lot of people seem extremely intent on never suffering the inconvenience of having to consider the wants, or needs, or privacy or dignity of another person.

Let me be clear, I am not some conservative intent on moving us back to the "good old days", nor am I a priest with a quick and easy solution. I'm just the guy trying to administer first aid. The wound to society is pretty brutal though, and it seems to have been there for a very long time, to the point that people are getting used to it.

People, too many people, seem to forget that being a human being in a human society comes with not just rights and privileges, but also duties. What is a karen but someone who feels entitled to the most excellent privileges and rights, but neglects their duty to be decent to others, to have courtesy towards your fellow man. Or look at parents insistent on their right to have a child taught in school exactly the way the parent wants, ignoring the duties of care, proper education and identity to the child, and the duty of creating good citizens to society. Or look at people in leadership positions in various organizations and power structures, people who may be good people outside of a power structure, but are corrupted at the slightest incentive, positive or negative, to forget their duties of proper treatment to their fellow humans.

This vicious, sickly individualism, unable to suffer even the slightest inconvenience, is a contributor to much of humanities present ills. The city councilman removing benches to get rid of the homeless choses, rather than obeying his moral, human duty to help such people, to simply get rid of this "inconvenience" or "irritant" or "eyesore". But this ghastly individualism has other forms too, forms much more vicious, more abhorrent to human dignity. Think of the soldier guarding a concentration camp (I know it is a tired example, but it is simply also a very effective one). That soldier allows some petty excuse to blind him to his duties towards other people, his ultimate duty, to protect human life, to remember that human life and dignity are sacred. There are many excuses that can blind someone to that duty, be it some other, artificial, duty, hate, orders... even though we as humans all know this is not remotely acceptable it still happens.

I am not a religious man, and I know that organized religion has too often been one of those excuses, but there is certainly one thing that most every faith gets right, treat others as you wish to be treated. This golden rule is nothing new, it has been identified over 2500 years ago and I know many good people still do their damned best to teach it. Has a teacher ever asked you, growing up "would you have liked it if he did that to you?".

What causes this sickness in the societies where we see it? I do not believe there is one cause here, there are many, modern technology, though it is marvelous, has given both those with much and little power the ability to snoop far beyond what would be permissible otherwise. A system of ruthless capitalism certainly contributes, though there is a need for caution, when one discusses capitalism there is often an impulse to move radically away from it, but radical changes come with their own duties, to watch out for authoritarians, the power hungry, the abusive...

How do we fix this? I do not know, not on a large scale at least, but I have one simple call to action: remember your duties, both chosen and not.