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shingogf · 1 year

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I will go ahead and say this bc i dont see enough ppl saying it

Despite his outrightly cartoonish, often times ridiculous way of being helplessly evil, medic is and can be a nuanced character. Throughout my years being in and out of various fandoms i've noticed a pattern: people clinging onto a morally grey character (usually a villain but not always) then proceeding to completely ignore or straight up erase bits of their personality when producing fan content, resulting in what i personally like to call the "villainized villain syndrome". Basically, overexaggerating their in canon personality and using the "oh well he's completely off his rocker so he MUST be willing to do ANY kind of immoral act because of it!" argument that I personally do not like.

I saw this predominantly in fanfics where ppl will write the reader being straight up n*n c*ned by him and not even JUST in a sexual sense, like being experimented on without their explicit consent which idk just doesn't sit well w me esp when u market said fic as a wannabe, romance-happy reader insert.

Medic, as an ENTP, uses ti-fe which implies NOT forcing yourself on others. Instead he uses his wits and charm to get people to comply with his wishes and we have clearly seen that once he outsmarted the devil himself. Demanding and forcing your views on people is a te-fi trait. He doesn't even need to use force, he's so good at dismantling others' logic and giving arguments that he just...gets what he wants.

I think you are heavily misinterpreting medic's whole character when u write him with a SINGLE defining trait a.k.a an overwhelming senseless evilness (TOWARDS his OWN teammates even) that results from his desire to be experimenting on ppl. In my opinion it does not make sense for him to REALLY put his own teammates mindlessly in danger just bc he feels like it. Yea he's unethical and completely disregards any kind of human norm but whatever he does almost always benefits the team in the end, not to mention he experiments on them p much consensually. Heavy seemed a-ok with being cut open since that's also kinda mandatory anyway in their job. Medic isn't "the big evil" he is "means to an end" evil. For such a logical man it would make 0 sense for him to disregard his team's safety COMPLETELY, it would be taxing including for his own paycheck.

Like yes medic big medic scary medic evil but have you considered he can have nuances and shades to his fucked up character? I think ppl forget he literally bluffed in front of classic heavy when he asked him if he has any problem with going against his old teammates only to cause the classic team to go into BANKRUPCY to revive sniper who technically was his enemy at the time. Then proceeding to rejoin his old team and AGAIN bluffing so heavy could take down classic heavy. And he was visibly happy to be welcomed back into the red team.

This isn't me saying medic isn't the worst example of a human being and that i want ppl to write him "softer", no. This is me saying that a villain wouldn't commit literally ANY kind of immoral act just bc he's "evil" and that even vile and violent characters can have variations in their behavior.

#i read this long ass fic that barely had any descriptive tags only gore and violence warnings in certain chapters and it got me concerned #i wont say much abt it bc its VERY long but basically. reader has severe medical trauma and she's portrayed as just going along w his shit #even when she's CLEARLY displeased and dissociating over it. and some shit he did without her consent only for her to find out later #and bc of that he treats her as nth but a test subject basically subhuman like. only for all of this to be disregarded later on #and for them to SUDDENLY get along after he had literally worsened her trauma just bc he felt like it and now theyre suddenly besties. naur #he would Not Do That. let alone to a teammate like why tf would he fixate on reader and put such expectations on her only to bully her when #ahe doesnt perform to his liking. his best subject or smth just the fact that he views her LIKE that makes me like yikes.#then later its all sunshine and flowers. y do ppl not do this w h*avymedic lmao they never portray them with a power imbalance #and heavy is literally his primary test subject. and reader was a cis female in that fic. hm #.txt #mine #💉#tf2

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astrovagrant · 5 months

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ship bingo for skalazari gogogogogogogogo

LMAO.

tbc they are Not dating yet and have significant blockers before that can happen. however. they are going to be freaks about it once it happens and we Did make bingo :^)

#the eating is more like. it's about the fact that zari's existence is quite gory and like #she will have a hard time separating out her strongest touch feelings (which have been gore-related) from her now current very strong -#- touch Desires (get railed)#same w the blood and guts. luckily skalazar used to be a medical-type cleric rather than the cleric he is now #so like. this is not anything for him. maybe it'll even end up being kinda hot (she could use the recontextualization)#domestic au is inherently funny because they are ill-suited to domesticity As People. but i do think it would be fun #ALSO THEY MIGHT DIE IT'S VERY POSSIBLE. CHAD DON'T DO IT TO EM #pop campaign #skalazari

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darby-rowe · 3 months

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coriolanus snow, masterlist. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

key—

fluff ❀ | smut ♡ | gore ♔ | angst ☽

the column chase ❀

coriolanus fucking you while you read ♡

coriolanus using a shower head on you ♡

snowjanus spit-roast ♡

kissing coriolanus ❀♡

making coriolanus take a break from school work ❀♡

inches of snow ❀♡

pegging coryo w/ an ejaculating strap-on ♡

trying on lingerie for sub!coryo ♡

snowjanus in between your legs at the same time ♡

peacekeeper!coryo fucking you in the meadow ❀♡

fem!reader cumming from sucking off coryo ♡

prn links ♡

coryo x fem!reader piss kink ♡

coryo punishing you for procrastinating ♡

painal (dddne) ♡

putting brat!coryo in his place + mommy kink ♡

medic!reader ❀♔☽

modern!snowjanus x reader headcanons ❀♡

mutual masturbation w/ coryo ♡

academy!coryo not lasting in bed ❀♡

coryo jerking off to photos of you ♡

coriolanus's masturbation shame ☽♡

coryo takes pride in taking your virginity ❀-adjacent

don’t come in! ♡

princely. (dddne) ♡

keeping coriolanus warm. ❀

coriolanus threatens you. (dddne) ♡

degrading coriolanus. ♡

baby blue, bambi, & you. ♡

cockwarming + piss. ♡

coriolanus spanking you. ♡

coriolanus cums in his pants when he thinks of you. ♡

coryo loves hugs from plus-sized!reader. ❀

coriolanus & pussy slapping. ♡

guiding coryo out of subspace. ♡❀

coryo with a ring gag. ♡

painal pt. 2 ♡

coryo loves getting spat on. ♡

anal play w/ sub!coryo. ♡

napping in coryo's lap while he reads. ❀

coriolanus degrades you while he fucks you. (dddne) ♡

rape threats. (dddne) ♡

peacekeeper!coryo takes your virginity. (dddne) ♡

sub!coryo w/ dom!sej & dom!reader. ♡

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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isatforpalestine · 20 days

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In Stars and Time for Palestine

Requests: Open! | Goal: $400/750

(To sign up to volunteer, please fill out this form or DM this account/@siffrin-enthusiast! Whichever is easiest for you!)

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free!

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We ask that receipts/proof of purchase be included with the request to help keep track of things.

To sign up as a volunteer, please fill out this form or DM this account and or @siffrin-enthusiast! Whatever works for you!

You will receive confirmation that your request has been received and when work has started.

You can ask for updates on your request, but please remember that artists are human and have busy lives.

Shipping requests and requests for multiple characters or specific poses are allowed, but may be less detailed and take longer than asking for a single character.

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Please do not send donation requests in our asks as unfortunately this is a common way to scam donations.

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Donations can be made to any of the following reputable charities:

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Due to GoFundMe's giving money to Palestinians directly and immediately, donations to them are highly encouraged and requests made through GoFundMe donations will be given preferential treatment (assigned and completed first). Donations to charities are still of course open, encouraged, and accepted, but if possible please consider donating to a GoFundMe!

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Prices have not been set in stone yet, as I'm waiting on feedback and sign-ups from other artists, but they're around here!

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$15-20 = Colored sketch.

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Additions to add on to the original price (unless it's included in the price, i.e., if you spent $45-59 you would not have to pay for a simple background). Please note that these will almost always increase the time it takes for your request to be completed.

$5 for a simple background.

$5 for another character sketch or uncolored lineart.

$10 for a detailed background.

$10 for very complex poses.

$15 for another character in flat shading or colored sketches, with $10 each for any additional characters.

$20 to select the artist of your request. Note that if they're busy with other requests, this will take longer than letting us choose.

$25 for another character in detailed shading and above, with $20 each for any additional characters.

$30 for another character with rendering, with $25 each for any additional characters.

Artists

Meet our volunteer artists!!

@outeremissary can make doodles, uncolored linearts and colored sketches!

@pied-piper-pluto can do everything on the list, from doodles to rendering with complex poses, multiple characters, and colorful backgrounds! he can do digital or traditional medium, or watercolor for large donations!

@siffrin-enthusiast can draw sketches, doodles, flat/detailed shading or take other requests/make edits, but doesn't know how to render. i'll give it an honest shot if you want though!

@moopermoment can do everything except detailed shading, rendering, and complex poses!

@kadethecat does sketches to flat shading and enjoys collab pieces!

@benjibots can do sketches as well as flat shading!

@kensiesss who can do anything except for complex poses!

@forgetful-storyteller can make anything from sketches to rendering with a simple background, but might take a bit to finish complicated pieces due to a busy schedule!

@tekabecca114 can do b/w comic panel style images!

@agriocnemis does everything on the list!!

@novelist-on-strike can make simple custom logos/graphics!

@mnemonicmew does everything except for collab pieces and colorful rendered backgrounds!

(To sign up to volunteer, please fill out this form or DM this account/@siffrin-enthusiast!)

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#free palestine #in stars and time #in stars and time for palestine #isat

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dnvrsmedia · 8 months

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love at first suture

abigail anderson x medic!reader

warnings: mentions of injuries (no gore)

canon universe setting, no pronouns or r physical attributes used!

°°°

Soft light enters the hallway as the rising sun shines its beams onto Earth, enveloping its warm rays like a blanket on your skin. Puffs of air leave your sleeping lover's mouth as her chest steadily rises at a rhythmic rate. Calm is the state you find yourself in on the rare occasion you wake up before the blonde. Her long hair cascades along her broad shoulders like a warm toned waterfall. On days like these you feel a little bit more filled with gratitude. Never have you believed in soulmates until you met yours. Abigail Anderson was the textbook definition of your other half. She fulfilled every need, want, hope, and dream you could ever have asked for—ever so effortlessly. Love was never easy, but loving Abby was the easiest thing you have ever done.

Your hand moved to tuck a stray piece of hair from tickling her nose. A giggle erupts from your mouth as the blonde scrunches her nose and furrows her brows, trying to get away from the tickling strand of hair. Her body relaxes with a content hum as you free her from the itching. Abby moves into your hand, subconsciously yearning for your touch. No matter how big and scary she looks to others, you’ll always know the true Abby. Your loving and caring partner. Abby who goes to the ends of the earth for what she believes in. Your sweet girl and most powerful protector.

Reminiscing on when you first met always brings a smile to your face. The once tough girl falling into a puddle of mush—flushed beyond belief as you patch her up in the infirmary. You were newer to the area and quickly became one of the most crucial surgeons for the WLF. Abby luckily was not hurt badly, just a few lacerations to various parts of her body. Leaving only a slightly deeper cut on her upper thigh. The blonde stubborn as always, grumbled her way in the infirmary. Nora being the only one to get through her thick skull.

“Abigail I swear to god if you don’t sit your ass in that fucking chair-“ Nora’s voice heard through the groans and chaos of the infirmary.

Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement. In the few months you’ve been with WLF, you’ve known that Abby was not one to be fucked with. The top scar killer, Isaac’s number one asset, was one to be listened to. You had only a few run-ins with the tall blonde. Abby did well in either playing down her injuries or patching herself up. Yet, here she was, being yelled at like a toddler by her best friend. Tail tucked between her legs with an adorable pout to her plush lips. Her thick thighs spread wide after unceremoniously plopping into your open chair. Her pout could be seen from miles away as scoffs left her lips.

“Hi, how can I help you?” You don your nitrile gloves with a ‘snap’.

Abby’s stubborn nature made her snarl before she looked up at you. All of her previous stipulations melt away as her eyes meet yours. The stubborn blond rendered speechless as her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“Uh-I…um-” Abby struggles to speak as she dumbly points to her thigh.

Nora catches onto her best friend’s actions with a smirk as she nudges Abby’s watermelon sized bicep.

“This dumbass needs stitches on her thigh and bicep. The other lacerations aren’t deep enough for stitches, but a good cleaning should fix it. I’d help her myself but I'm busy and you need more friends, bye!” Nora rushes the last sentence before going into the middle of the storm of hurt soldiers.

Crimson red is the color that peaks under Abby’s freckles. Your own belly betrays you as it flutters w butterflies. Her teeth sitting atop her tucked in bottom lip makes your knees weak. You snap out of your trance, turning to attend to the matter at hand. Your fingers fumble with the suture package before placing your materials on your tray. You sit down on your stool before her.

“How are you feeling? I’m sure there’s no major injuries since your reluctance to be checked out, but this is a pretty gnarly cut here.” Your gloved hand caresses her clothed thigh that currently has a gash in the fabric.

Abby’s thighs tense at the feeling of your gentle finger caressing her. You take that as a symptom of tenseness and pull away immediately in worry. Abby silently curses herself.

“Is that painful there? I could check you out some more to see-” You ramble before being cut off by the blonde.

“N-no i'm okay just wasn’t ready for your touch. I didn't mind it.” She smirks, loving the shy smile that adorned your lips.

“Oh! Okay then, that’s perfect. So I’m just gonna need you to uh take off your pants- or what’s left of them, to stitch you up and send you on your way.” Your eyes veer from her eyes, oozing with nerves. Abby has this effect on you that you couldn’t explain.

Meanwhile, Abby is trying not to lose her shit at the thought of taking her pants off for you. She wished she was taking them off for a different circumstance-

“Uh, *cough*, yeah, th- that’s fine.” Abby tried-and failed- at keeping a cool and mysterious tone. In actuality, her brain was going a mile a minute all because of the beauty in front of her.

She stands and unbuckles her belt in front of you. Due to your height difference as you were still on your stool, her hips stood at face level. Your mouth salivates at the filthy thoughts flooding through your brain. You clear your throat and turn your head in a hurry, pretending to preoccupy yourself with something useless. Once the clang of her heavy belt buckle sounds, signaling it hitting the ground, you turn back to your patient. Your eyes bulge out of your eyes at the sight. You thought her thighs looked good before but holy shit. Her sculpted thighs were something to worship. Yet, this certainly was not the time.

You get through your mini short circuit and immediately get to work cleaning her wounds. The whole time you talk the blonde through what you’re doing. Abby wasn’t stupid, she was actually decently knowledgeable on things of the sort due to her late father, yet she didn’t once stop you to mention she knew what you were doing. She fell in love with your passion to heal others, your passion for your craft. Any frustrations from her patrol melted away as she listened and watched you work. Soft giggles leave your lips as Abby filters in jokes every now and then. If your voice is honey then your laugh is heaven to her. The way your nose scrunched when she said something you found particularly funny or dorky made her heart soar. Your laugh gave Abby a high that no drugs could ever give her.

“You are good to go!” You finish wrapping her bandage securely.

“If you have any questions feel free to stop by, okay? Make sure you’re not doing any rigorous training or activities for at least a few days.” You pointedly look at her with your eyebrows raised. You may be new but you know that all of your warnings will go in one ear and out the other.

Abby laughs at your knowing look, wondering how you could read her so well so soon. Unbeknownst to the two of you, that would only be the beginning.

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obsessedduh · 1 month

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YANDERE!READER X CARELESS!WILLING!SIMON PT2.

previous part —> here | next part —> here

cw: mentions of blood, gore, obsession, perverse and creepy reader, yandere intendecies, mention of a random oc. implied fem reader but i tried to make it as gender neutral as possible.

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

mini taglist (by mini i mean two people who've requested 😭): @warlike-morning @smoothruby

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Careless!Willing!Simon 'Ghost' Riley, who you've tried to avoid the hell out of and he's realised. he isn't daft, and you aren't as slick as you thought you were. don't think he hasn't noticed whenever he's injured you're not there, but whenever someone else is injured, you magically appear out thin air. when you sit across the mess hall, staring at him as per usual and he catches you, you immediately continue eating your lunch as if nothing happened. oh, how it makes him laugh. he finds it adorable, thinking your plans have worked, but really, he's outsmarted you.

── ✧《✩》✧ ──

their was a new female recruit that joined the task force a couple of weeks ago, her name was ella and to everyone else she was a dove but to you she was fucking raven. always batting her stupid eyelids at simon whenever he's talking. always fucking laughing extra hard at his jokes. always giving him her sickening sweet smile. gosh, that stupid smile makes you want to rip out each and every one of teeth and shove it right up her ass.

what makes it worse is that she knows, she knows, how obsessed you were with simon. dirty fucking slag asked you what do you think about him on her first day, when helping her with her injury she got from training, she seemed sweet so you told her that you had a crush on him. she told you, you could trust her and that she'll keep it a secret; clearly that was a fucking lie. she knows how much you fucking like him, she's just being a filthy attention-seeking slut.

you try to ignore it and focus on your job but of course, this dumb bitch has to come back because she has an injury on her arm, crying like a fucking baby and you being 'sweet' person you are, said sure you'll help her with a half-assed smile.

you told her to lift up her sleeve, it was a cut, not even that deep, it was deep, so why the fuck is she being such a big baby about it. you had to force yourself not to roll your eyes at her sobs and that to only keep calm until the stiching part. oh you can't wait until that bit. you carefully treated her wound, cleaning blood up and then you grabbed your stiching kit. you grabbed your hegar (needle holder) and you grabbed the thread, before you poked the needle straight into her wound.

she screamed and you quickly covered her mouth, grinning as she sobbed and try to squirm away from your grip, you could finally tell her, what you want her to do.

"scream once, i will poke the needle in harder, understand."

you said 'understand' like a sentence, a threat and you grinned as she nods. you uncover her mouth and she continues crying, what a fucking baby.

"now ella, remember your first day, when i told you i fancied simon?"

she speaks and you couldn't even hold in your laugh, her voice is broken with sobs and the stuttering makes it even better!

"y-yeah...i remember t-that."

"mmm. that's good, so why for the past 3 weeks have you been flirting with him, huh?"

"i w-wasn't fli-flirting with him"

you slowly poke the needle in harder and as her eyes widen in shock and pain.

"o-ok! o-ok! i was and i'm s-sorry, i won't do it again!"

"won't do what again?"

"i won't f-flirt with s-simon again!"

you were about to say good girl but you were cut of by someone opening the door, you could've sworn you locked it!? you turn, only to see the person you've been trying avoid, simon.

he stares at the two of you, you could he was grinning from under thar mask of his.

"caught you red-handed again, medic."

he said before continuing leaving the two of you alone, you couldn't help but chuckle at that. a little inside joke the pair of you share. ella, poor sweet ella, looked so confused when he didn't help her. you pouted at her mockingly before you pulled the needle out her wound roughly, snickering at her pained whine she let out and then stiched her up.

"tell anyone about this and i will kill you, understood?"

she stare at you like your crazy and nods before rushing out of there. you snicker, 'stupid bimbo', you thought but then you replay simon's words your head.

"caught you red-handed again, medic."

fuck...now what?

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

#🎀 — 𝑶𝑩𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 #cod ghost #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 year

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Carcass ,1989

#Carcass #1989 #80's #80s #jeff walker #Symphonies of Sickness era #Symphonies of Sickness #Ken Owen #Bill Steer #Genre: Goregrind/Grindcore #Lyrical themes: Death Gore Pathology Medical Humour Politics Society #UK #b&w photography #photography #photo

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faeriekit · 5 months

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Health and Hybrids (XVII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here and we're limping into part 17...

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Two! Words! In! English!!! And a television? Hardcore!

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny can raise his head now.

Only a little. It still hurts his neck for a while after. But his arms and his head both rise, now. His fingers curl, now, too.

The result is that Danny can now watch and change his own television channels. No more news! Now it’s all Food Network, all the time, baby. The result is that sometimes the doctors tending to him get distracted by various pasta dishes, but also. Danny is also distracted by various pasta dishes.

And roast chicken.

And fried potatoes. Every potato ever, actually.

…It makes eating his oatmeal a more awful ordeal.

“Aw, dyrling, na þa sæd egean,” the lady says to him, spoon at his lips. Danny weakly moves his arm towards her, but only manages to hit her elbow with the heel of his thumb. “Inne cwic tima, gise? Hiere þa læce.”

Danny is pretty sure his face is a nightmare to look at at the moment, but he still makes the world’s saddest expression at the lady, because she hasn’t blasted him or hit him or even sedated him yet, and he needs something. Anything.

He’s pretty the lady makes an equally sad look under her medical mask, but Danny is hungry and he’s tired all the time and he’s sad and he wants a cheeseburger. Or fries. Or…or anything at all!

Danny’s look gets progressively sadder, and the lady gets progressively sadder to match, and then they’re both just looking at each other so very sadly until a doctor physically has to cut between them to reach for Danny’s green-speckled blankets.

Ugh. Great. Now he’s cold too. He can’t quite muster a glare, but the doctor gets an extremely stern squint from him for their “help”.

The only response Danny gets is a half-strangled laugh. That is not the response Danny needs. He needs immediate respect and a Nasty Burger number two special.

And a new blanket.

“—Eall dæg?” the doctor asks the woman, but not Danny, and then he has to listen to everyone talking about him in a weird language without even pretending to ask for his input. It’s extremely annoying, and Danny half-considers falling asleep to avoid it. His gaze slides back to the television. He’s just as capable of ignoring everyone else as they are. He bets it sucks. He hopes it sucks.

They talk for a while, but then the lady takes the oatmeal away—and hey! Danny’s eyes widen and sting from the stretch. Uh. Maybe he didn’t think this one through. He’d still thought he’d get lunch out of this.

Um. He would like to continue to receive meals. But he’s watching her walk out with his oatmeal, which is the only human food that’s ever been given to him here, and…

Danny’s stomach cramps. It’s probably just anxiety.

He wishes he’d eaten the stupid oatmeal.

The doctor stays with him, setting the blanket into a laundry bin and checking over Danny’s body (ew) (gross) (nasty) for whatever they have to check on him, and Danny tries to go intangible at least four times during the check only to get oWOUCHOW jerks inside his core. At least one time, he flickers invisible. Not much, he thinks. Probably just an arm and the chunk of his torso.

The doctor pauses. Danny waits for things to (start to hurt) get worse.

“Mæg Ic?”’

…Danny doesn’t move. It hurts to breathe. Every time air scrapes through his nose and mouth, it burns a little more.

The doctor doesn’t move.

So they just.

Wait.

“Mæg Ic?” the doctor asks again.

They move very, very slowly. They touch him, and his—skin—and they rotate him to check underneath him. If they find something of whatever it is they’re monitoring him for, he gets wiped down with something gooey and wiped clean, and sometimes he even thinks they bandage him.

Danny wishes he had a bath. A whole, real bath. Where he could wash his own hair. And wipe off whatever this goo is.

When they’re done, the lady comes back in.

The sound of the door latching shut makes Danny flinch. Is she going to punish him? She walks to his bed. With her medical mask over her face, Danny can’t see if she’s visibly mad at him or not. She doesn’t look mad though…does she?

She stands to his good side, presumably so that Danny can see her. The oatmeal is back—it looks kind of gloopy, though, like it’s been badly reheated. The lady shows something to the doctor, who makes an irritated groan, and then they start talking to each other again. She cuts off to show him something, though—

Danny blinks. She’s showing it to Danny. He…looks down at it.

It looks like a mustard packet. It’s a black packet with yellow streaks, with writing on it with those letters Danny’s never seen before coming here, and it takes his eyes a second to focus on the package before realizing that there’s a little bee and pot on one end of the packet.

Oh. It’s honey?

Oh!

…Oh!!

Danny jerks upright, and, OW, and he definitely scares the lady and the doctor who rush to settle him but there’s honey?? Flavor??? His food can taste good again??!

He wheezes— and slaps a stinging hand onto the packet. “Pl’s?” he begs. He’d stopped begging in the old labs, no one there had listened to him—and he’d stopped begging for them to be gentle, to stop hurting him, to let him go. But for food. For food that tastes, Danny might do anything. Anything. “P’lease? Ple’se? Pleese?”

“Pleece?” the woman repeats, baffled. The word doesn’t mean anything to her; she’s only repeating the sounds. But Danny can’t stop begging.

“P’lease?”

“Pleece? Pleace?”

“Please?!”

“Awrite þis,” the woman mutters, and the doctor leaves. “Bist wel. Eom hebbjan eower wist. Es wel.”

And that still means nothing to him, but the lady gently lifts him up until his back can lay on the pillows, and he can sit more than lay. Danny watches in raspy silence as she rips the packet open and dumps the contents into the oatmeal. She stirs with gloved hands, ensuring that the packet is equally distributed. And then there’s a glob on her spoon, and the spoon to his lips.

Danny takes a bite. Tears well.

“Shhh,” the woman coaxes. “Wanian ma?”

Ma sounds kind of like more. Danny opens his mouth, and is rewarded with another spoonful.

He doesn’t start crying in earnest until the bowl is gone. But that’s alright. The lady finds tissues, somewhere, and he gets to look into her human-blue eyes as she carefully dries over and around his still-soft, green-edged wounds.

It’s a very nice gesture.

Danny sobs a little harder.

#Diana: kids like sweets right? Honey? We have honey packets in the caf for the tea drinkers #Closest Doctor: I don't know if it would be too hard for him to digest at this stage—#Diana: look at him. Look at my sad child #Danny: *having several simultaneous crises*#Closest Doctor: ...Okay. I will say. That's pretty bad. Yeah he can probably digest like a teaspoon of honey; lemme go add that to his char #health and hybrids #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover #Lemme ✨sprinkle in✨newfound food insecurity trauma

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anarchyincarnate · 2 years

Text

A taste of the King

Am I making a self indulgent Fatui fanfic that is probably ooc? Yes. Am I ignoring the pride month event that I haven't finished along with my other drafts? Yes. I'm doing what I want-

Pairing; Pantalone x GN!AMAB!Reader

Reader's pronouns: ("You" pronoun mostly, male titles will be used)

C/W; mentions of burning and bodily harm, mentions of mistreatment by parental figure, slow burn, smut [Pantalone], gore.

Snezhnaya's weather was far from suitable to your taste. Wrapping yourself into a fatui agents long coat, you huffed as the clothing merely reached your waist, a given since you were much taller than them. The fatui and you were sailing to the land of everlasting winter, having been lucky to escape the brutal treatment you received in Inazuma. The agents came to an agreement after their treasure horder client came with Nobushi behind them, cradling and guarding what seemed to be a hurt young man.

Currently, your hand is being bandaged by an agent, gently wrapping the cloth against your palms, a great contrast to the way they wield their sacrificial knives.

A mage had carefully cool your skin using her magic, taking note of any change in expression you make due to it.

The others who were situated in the camp were guarding outside of your door, not letting anyone enter without permission.

Soon enough, you reached the icy lands of Snezhnaya. A slinger held your hand as you unstably got out of the boat. There were three Harbingers gathered at the port, making you clench the slingers hand in fear.

You knew what they are capable of, having seen what the 11th and 8th could do. To your suprise, they didn't harm you, instead the eldest looking walked forward slowly towards you. He stand around eye level to you, and scowled when he looked down towards your bruised and hurt body.

Because you were scared, you didn't notice the one whose face was obscured by his helmet had placed his coat atop your fragile body. In his hands were the agents coat, handing it back to the man who gave it to you.

His coat was much larger than the agents, making your involuntary shiver stop. You quickly held the garment close, relishing in the warmth it gave you. The lady helped you walk, making you remove your hand from the slinger.

Capitano bid the agents goodbye, as he and Pierro walked out of the port with Columbina and you in tow. She knew about your hesitation, so she hummed a tune, one that you recognize as the one she sung at Signora's funeral.

They lead you towards the palace, it's large and gorgeous architecture impressed you. Those who were guarding quickly bowed, and you might've missed the faint gasp emitting from them if it wasn't for your heightened hearing.

Years of trauma made you more aware of your surroundings after all. They opened the gigantic white door, letting you see what awaits you.

Six figures all respectively turned towards you, making your blood run cold from their stares. A lady sat upon the large ice throne, her eyes seemed to have softened in your presence.

A person you recognize as Childe nearly tackled you into a hug, sobbing and shaking as you try to calm him down. You patted his back, slightly wincing in pain because of the arrow mark near your heart.

Under the Tsaritsa's order, Dottore lead you to his lab, having his clone clear up some of the clutter. You noticed the jarred glass eyes, pieces of a human strapped onto a table, it's head being carved open, exposing it's brain.

"Were you studying the human body, Dottore?" You try to make conversation with him to ease your mind.

"Yes. I'm curious as to how the mind processes emotional distress, and I needed my curiosity satiated." He answered calmly, different from his younger [manga] self. He ushered you onto a clean table as he sat down onto a chair beside it. A clone of his brought some medical supplies, and he gestured you to shed your clothes.

You nod, and pulled your black turtleneck above your head, tossing the torn and tattered shirt into a small basket.

There were many lacerations across your skin, most notably your arms. A large mark similar to an arrow injury was present near where your heart should be. Burns litter your upper back, seemingly from a firework explosion.

"Holy Tsaritsa, what on Teyvat did they do to you?" He muttered under his breath, quickly fixing up your injuries.

"Kujou Sara shot me, aiming for my heart. Deflecting the Anemo archon's Vortex was difficult, hence the lacerations on my body. As for my back, it was from an incident in Liyue." You said, seemingly calm reliving those memories.

For the first time in his life, Dottore was stunned. You deflected an Archon's attack and survived. Getting shot with arrow, you didn't flinch like it was just another day.

"I'm used to violence against me. It's nothing new." You mumbled, rotating your wrist to make sure it was still usable.

Pierro who came to check on you was silent as he took everything what you said in. He relayed this information to the Tsaritsa during a harbinger meeting later that day.

It was now law and enforced that You'll be guarded and cared for 24/7. As the Divine who received such treatment by its "followers", it is now mandatory to be on one's best behaviour should they want to be punished.

In a way, it was peaceful. You were fed nutritional and high quality meals, many forms of Entertainment were given to you, and all of the affection you could ever want. Perhaps it wasn't that bad...

It's almost concerning the amount of gifts you received from Pantalone, gawking at most of the items pricetags, that if you translate to your old world's currency, it'll be worth billions.

Childe was like an overeager housecat, not that you're complaining. He brought joy to your boring life, telling you about Teucer's adventures, his stories, and so much more.

Columbina and Sandrone were the ones who tailored your new outfit. You were gifted with a new black dress shirt, a cool gray vest, and a thick fluffy coat like the one they own.

Whenever you feel trapped emotionally, Pulcinella was always there to comfort and talk with you, and it made your heart melt that he's willing to be the parent figure you never had growing up.

Capitano taught you how to effectively strike your opponent, much to Pierro's dismay. You two can go for hours sparring with eachother. Childe feeling jealous lmao-

Pierro who would play games with you, specifically chess as a past time of sorts. You usually stop by his office to help his stressed out self by indulging him in his favourite game over tea.

Sometimes, You bring snacks to Arlechinno's orphanage. The kids love you, and would often beg her to bring you there and spend time with them.

Now, the relationship between you and Dottore was to put it lightly, odd. Perhaps, it was morbid curiosity that exchanging science literature with eachother became common for you two. You were a doctor in your old world, so you took liberty in explaining your findings to him.

It was a rare occasion that you and Pantalone were alone together, with you helping the Tsaritsa manage her nation and spending time with the other harbingers, you rarely had time for yourself.

Hearing a knock on your bedroom door, you opened it to see Pantalone, holding a bouquet of Viparyas flowers.

"Strange, how did you get these? They're only found in the Dahri ruins or Vanarana in Sumeru. It's nearly impossible to obtain." You were perplexed, holding one between your fingers as he placed the rest onto your table.

"I researched on what you may be interested in, And it seemed that Flora was something you enjoy. Have you cultivate some before?" He asked, placing his coat onto the hanger, eyes gazing at your handsome face.

"I have as a science experiment. It was merely child's play." You say, placing the flower onto a small container of water.

"I wonder, why is it that you decided to gift me Viparyas flowers? It isn't usually what you would gift me." He hummed at your question.

"It's simple really, I'm planning to court you." He replied after an awkward silence.

Ah, so that's the reason. "The romantic type aren't you?" You giggled, pressing your arms onto the table, caging him between the hard wood and your body.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms onto your neck, "And what it I am?"

"Not that I'm complaining," and with that you sealed your lips with his. You raised an eyebrow in suprise when he kissed you back eagerly, softly moaning against your lips.

He pulled you in, wanting to stay as close to you as he possibly can. You slowly slid your tongue into his mouth, tasting every inch of it while he grinded his body against yours.

You pulled away after some time, letting the man breathe, while your hands busied themselves with taking off his clothes.

He reached down to help you, but you swatted his hand away. You pulled off his pants, and lowered yourself to your knees. Blowing hot air towards his cock, you watch in amusement as the organ come to life.

Inch by inch, you let the organ enter your oral cavity, and skillfully lick and suck every part of him until the hilt. Letting out a plethora of moans, he didn't waste any praise for you.

You felt his cock twitch, yet you wanted to tease him, so you removed your mouth from him, making him whine.

"I was so close- Your honor, i-"

"Patience, Regrator. I wouldn't want you to come undone so easily." You muttered, tracing circles against his thigh. Using two fingers covered in his precum, you put one finger into him, making him moan out.

You added the other finger in, and he keened in pleasure. The padded tips brush against his prostate sent his toes curling, it was too much!

Sighing out in disappointment, you looked over to the glazed expression he had in his eyes and large globs of cum staining the floor.

"Tch." You clicked your tongue, making Pantalone gasp as you slapped his dick. "What did I say?"

"S-Sorry Sir! I couldn't help-" Another slap, this time to his ass.

"Hah, Disobedience would you get nowhere with me. Turn around." He did, albeit with shaky knees. He arched his back, raising his ass up. You knead the soft flesh for a few seconds before slapping them again.

He couldn't find the words to complain when you suddenly shoved every inch of you inside him. Your dick was curled upwards, making it hit his prostate dead on.

"Ah- fuck! So b-big.." he replied, voice raised a pitch when you brutally jackhammer into him, not caring about who will hear, while your hand firmly grasped his dick, rendering him unable to cum.

He could feel his resolve shaking with every creak of the table, eyes beginning to see white as hot tears of pleasure run down his pretty face.

You were abusing his prostate, sucking in a breath every time he would clench on you. And, having mercy when your release came, you let go of his dick and came inside him.

After a cleaning session, you two decided to cuddle, not realising Arlechinno heard everything and is now clutching her bottom half in shame...

#genshin impact cult au #sub genshin #sagau smut #sub pantalone #genshin sagau #fatui x reader #fatui x male reader

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apollodarling-writes · 1 year

Note

Please please please, a ghost x fem!reader fic where medic reader is on the field for some reason and reader gets injured because simon makes a miscalculation and everyone is told they’re gonna die (but she makes it through in the end) but like the TORMENT AND SELF TORTURE PLEASEEEEEE

Also can you do it like a confirmed secret relationship (like not a crush or situationship)

I wanna see angst and hurt and simon blaming himself and losing it but reader comforting him at the enddd

tws: gore, injury, near-death, war typical murder, simon has a panic attack, dissociation, simon is mean for like two lines

i hc that simon doesn't allow himself to get close to people because they always die in the end- so that's included in here.

@darklordofthesimp

Everything happened too fast for Simon to process. One second the hall was cleared, his finger snug against the trigger, ammunition filled and ready to lay out the next enemy. And the next… you were bleeding from the chest, choking on your own blood, and eyes filling with tears.

Simon didn’t hesitate to eliminate the enemy, yelling over the speaker that you- their only medic and Simon’s lover- were bleeding out, harmed by his own miscalculation and shortcomings. Soap MacTavish was the first to respond, saying he was finished on his end and that he would take you to the infirmary as soon as he could make it over there. The mission was complete- they had exterminated every hostile in the building and reinforcements would now be able to lodge here.

But you... Simon couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. He was afraid he would watch as the life bled from your eyes and onto his hands just like everyone else he’s ever loved and cared for. Firmly pressing his hand against your wound, he tried to stop the bleeding, whispering prayers to the gods he stopped believing in a long time ago.

“Please, please, please! Hold on for me, baby. Hold on just a little longer!” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, voice strained and cracking. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as you nod your head in response.

“Si… ‘m sleepy. So sleepy..”

"Fuck! Stay awake for me, princess. I promise you can sleep later." Tears spill over Simon's lash line, landing on your cheeks despite your inability to feel them. Simon's calloused fingers brush your hair from your eyes, cupping the back of your head with one hand and untangling your hair.

"Jus' stay awake for me, please." Simon would cringe at how pitiful his voice sounds- all hoarse and quivering- if you weren't bleeding out in his arms. It's his fault. If he hadn't been so eager, you wouldn't have been hurt- this was the only time he had ever miscalculated and now the one person he had allowed himself to love was dying. Crimson had painted his gear and hands. That damned iron tang usually wouldn't bother him, but it's yours. It's your blood.

Simon doesn't hear Johnny approach, pressing two fingers to your neck and checking for a pulse. Simon doesn't hear Johnny tell Price over the Comms that you were damn near dead. He doesn't hear Price tell him it'll be okay, and he doesn't feel Gaz lifting him. He doesn't feel his breathing become shallow and rapid, nor does he recall König guiding him through breathing techniques.

Simon does remember the Head Nurse on duty telling the team that it was unlikely you'd make it. The bullet had punctured a vital organ and surgery would be difficult and risky with the state you're in.

It's my fault she's gonna die. It's all my fault.

Simon doesn't remember anything that happened after that. He only knows that the next time he looked in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot and he had snot dribbling down his nose. Even now as Simon gazes into the mirror, the only thing he sees is a killer. A legal, funded bloodthirsty machine. Killers shouldn't love.

Or at least that's what he tells himself. If he didn't love you then maybe you'd be okay right now. You'd be thriving and goofing off with Soap and Gaz, comforting König, and doing whatever it is you do when you're not working or with him. But, because he loved you...you were going to die. Everyone Simon loves and cares about dies.

Knocking on the door alerts Simon of a presence. "Oi, LT. The Nurse has news on [Name]."

Simon wipes his face and opens the door. He trudges to the infirmary, afraid of the possibility that you'd died during the operation; afraid that he would be the reason you wouldn't make it into your thirties. Simon was afraid he'd be the reason your family would grieve for years to come- an empty seat at every family gathering, every shared holiday. He's terrified of the possibility that your puppy back home would be wondering where you're at for the rest of its life, and that you wouldn't be able to achieve your dreams after your enlistment ends.

Yet, Simon continues on. Step by step, corridor by corridor he makes his way to the nurse's station. Simon imagines the possibilities. If you had died during the operation, did you curse his name with your final breath? Did you hate him for letting you get hurt? Would you watch over him during battle?

And if you did make it through, would it be better for him to distance himself? Would it be better for you to stay away from him? Simon wonders what it would take to make you hate him. Even if it hurts him, Simon decides, he'd rather see you alive and well than dead in a casket. So, as Simon finally reaches the infirmary, he decides that if you were still alive, he'd break things off and make you hate him. It would be better for you. You'd be safe.

Simon stops in front of the door. Were you alive? Did he want to know? He wouldn't be able to live with himself if you...passed away. No, he doesn't want to think about it. Just open the door.

Simon feels his chest grow tight, his mind racing with the thought that you'd died during the operation. It was his fault. Simon feels his breath grow short, gasping for air and tears pricking his eyes. He shouldn't have loved you. Simon clutches his chest; he can't get enough air. Maybe you'd still be alive if he hadn't.

He failed you.

He didn't deserve you.

He'd never see your smile again.

He'd never get to propose to you.

It's all his fault. It's all his fault. It's all his fault . It's all his fault its all his fault all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault-

"Breathe. Breathe for me... Ghost, breathe." Ghost recognizes König’s voice. He feels a hand on his shoulders.

"In for four seconds.... hold. Out for four seconds... hold." König repeats that mantra, Ghost following along until that blockage in his chest is gone and he can breathe properly.

"She's alive, Ghost." Price's worried face comes into view, and with those three words, he can feel the weight upon his shoulders melt away.

"Can I see 'er?" Simon croaks, cringing at the state of his voice.

“Yeah.. yeah you can see her.” Price doesn’t move as Ghost approaches the door, placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring, “It’s not yer fault.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, simply wrapping his fingers around the door handle and pushing it open before he can stop to think. There you were in all your glory- chapped lips and dark circles and he still thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Upon opening the door, your [color] eyes had settled upon him, a smile finding its way to your face.

“Hey Si-“

“[Callsign], I don’t think we should be together anymore.” Ghost blurts, watching as your face fell and disbelief wrestled its way into the shadows of your eyes, tears gathering at your lash line.

“That’s bullshit.” You whisper. “That’s absolute bullshit… This is because I got hurt isn’t it? Isn’t it!?”

Ghost stays silent and you become desperate, throwing the covers off of your body and taking pained steps towards him. Tears fall at a faster pace now, and Ghost can’t look you in the eyes- if he did, he’d beg you for forgiveness. He’d sob into your arms and ask if you hated him. He’d be Simon again.

“Si, please. It’s not your fault.” You cry. “I’m here aren’t I? Right?”

Ghost doesn’t respond, opting to gaze at the floor and bite his lip. It hurts him, it really does. He never liked to see you cry. If he could, he’d protect you from everything so that you’d never cry again. His heart squeezes as you release a sob, latching onto his wrist as he stands to leave.

“Simon Riley, don’t you dare leave! You don’t get to leave and not tell me why!” You exclaim, voice wavering. “Is it because I’m a liability? Am I too much?”

No, you’re not, Is what he wants to say.

Instead, he says, “I never loved you. You were just a warm hole.” The words taste like ash in his mouth.

“You’re lying! Please, tell me you’re lying!” The heart rate monitor begins to pick up pace and you rip everything hooked up to you out, sinking to the floor and clutching your chest.

“Simon Riley!” He loved when you would say his name. “Look at me! Look at me right now!”

His body turns, eyes meeting yours for a moment before they fall back to the floor. God, you have such pretty eyes. Such a cute nose and plush lips- he remembers when you would press kisses to every inch of his face when he came back from a mission. He remembers the time you almost got caught leaving his room when you wanted cuddles in the middle of the night. But, he won’t have that anymore. Simon tells himself that it’s for the best.

“You think you can be the martyr, Simon?! You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” You sound so hurt; Simon hates it. It’s for the best. “You think after everything you’ve told me, I wouldn’t know that you think you’re doing what’s best for me?”

“Simon goddamn Riley. I love you. I love you so much and I know you love me too.” Simon feels your hands lift his face, immediately leaning into your touch and eyes scanning your face. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, tearstains carving trails down your cheeks, and tears keep falling. His hands itch to wipe them away.

“You don’t need to leave, Si.” He hears the plea in your voice and caves, pulling off his mask and pressing his lips to yours, tears streaming down his cheeks and mixing with yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Simon chants, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin atop your head.

“Si, it’s okay.” You sniffle. “I love you.”

Simon’s lip quivers, teary eyes meeting your gaze before his lips press gentle kisses to every inch of your face, kissing away your tears.

“I love you too.”

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itsgrimeytime · 11 months

Text

The Nurse (Part Seven) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), sickness, vomiting of blood, blood from the eyes, animal sickness, mentions of quarantine, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: A plot heavy chapter???? In this economy??? It's more likely than you think. I did actual medical research on this one, so... Also, 'there's only one bed trope' except there's no bed. I will not be taking any questions at this time. Thanks for reading :)) ]]

That day really started midway through you cleaning up a few of your tools, it was an extensive process -especially considering the circumstances. Infection was not an option here, so you usually took a few hours to soak some of your materials in some antibacterial you'd recovered from the few runs you'd been on.

The fumes were a bit much, so you'd done it near the prison but not inside -dedicating a space distant from the crops and where the others strayed outside. Without a mask, you couldn't imagine the long term effects of inhaling the mass of well... germ-x that you accumulated to clean things. You'd been a stickler on using it as often as you could, even taking times within the day to run by everyone with it and having them run it over their hands. It got, let's say, varied reactions, but you knew with what ease an outbreak of any kind could frolic through the prison. So, they just had to deal with it.

That day, you were almost done cleaning your last scalpel -the coating washing away in some of the bottled water you hadn't quite finished. When you'd seen the smudge of a figure coming up to you.

You dunked the rest of the water over your hands and placed the scalpel on the rag -quickly folding it on the stool you'd taken out to use as an extra surface.

When you looked back at the figure now, they were much closer like they were running to you. You squinted, trying to see through the sun, and made out the edges of a cowboy hat -Carl?

Before you could so much as say a word, Carl was barreling up to you -eyes glossy (just a touch, you hadn't seen him cry since you got here) and eyebrows furrowed into so much worry that you only found fit for an adult.

He simply wrapped his arms around your middle, nestling his head into you -effectively knocking the hat off, and immediately felt a spike of worry shoot up your spine. Despite your head buzzing with questions and worries, you exhaled a shaky breath and gently held the back of his head against you.

"Everything okay?"

"No," he muttered into you -before pulling back to look at you with a seriousness that you found easily matched Rick's, "-you have to help."

Your worry spiked, help. Still, you coached yourself -crouching down to his level, "Help with what? Is someone hurt?"

Carl started then -tumbling over the speed of his words, "Violet, Dad says she's sick. She's laying around, she won't eat and she always likes to e-"

"Carl," you laid your hands on his shoulders -hoping to soothe the nerves out of him, "-breathe. When you say Violet, do you mean-"

"The pig," he answered, after exhaling a deep, long breath -something you taught him just out of habit once.

So, that was why you were now by the pigs' pen -carefully watching the one he called Violet with Rick, Hershel, and well... Carl. You hadn't known much about animals, but you knew some of the basics of something not feeling well. And Violet was... well, she checked all those boxes.

"How long has it been since she ate?" Hershel asked, his gaze just a bit more analytical than yours -he was a veterinarian after all.

"Just the past day," Rick answered, his hand passively rubbing along his son's back -he still seemed a bit shaken, "-Looked at their food, and there was more than there shoulda been."

"Okay, well," you added, turning to Rick and Carl "-it's early then. Any sort of early is better than too late. I'm just not sure what it could be, other than the basics."

Rick questioned, "Which is?"

"Swine flu," you answered, flickering to Hershel for his opinion, "-but it's not my specialty, I could be wrong."

Hershel hummed, rising back to his feet with his cane where he seemed to be looker closer at Violet, "Could very well be. It's not like we have any medicine for 'em either."

"Do we need to go straight for medicine?" you asked, watching Violet as she slowly seemed to inhale and exhale, "Are there other options?"

Hershel rubbed at his beard, "Not much without some sort of medicine."

You pursed your lips, "Should we risk it though? What if it's not whatever we may assume it has and it gets worse?"

"Guess that's true," Hershel spoke, looking at you now -intent on discussing your point of view, "-what's your idea?"

"Well," you started, a bit hesitantly, "-I'm not a vet but if this was people, we'd quarantine them. Try and limit the contagion, if it was even contagious. It's how we... It's how we started investigating when the walkers showed up."

"It's a good idea," Hershel agreed, and you felt a piece of you relax, "-singles Violet out so we can try and get more information on whatever she's sick of. And sometimes quarantining 'em can help 'em heal."

"What, so-" Rick responded -looking to the two of you, "-we get more pens?"

"Yeah," you answered, following your own thought process, "-just do a few resource runs? There should be enough containers to individually feed them around the prison. And just as a base, we wait a week. It's a typical time for human sicknesses, so I imagine it's long for animals? If any one of them gets worse, we cut it short and look for other options."

Rick and Hershel were just staring at you -eyes wide and a bit astonished. You hadn't been quite one to order others around, or make plans, or anything of the nature. But you'd been passionate about nursing -knew all you could, you were trained for crises and problem-solving.

"Sorry," you echoed, trying to recognize any of the emotions in either of them's eyes (all you could get out of Rick's was wonder and that really was not helping), "I didn't mean to just... take over. I just-"

"No, no," Hershel shook his head, gently placing a hand on your shoulder -soothing whatever idea that he had felt overstepped in your head, "-you got that brain of yours, best you use it."

You smiled, a bit bashful because well nursing had been a big portion of your life for so long -you were glad to be doing it well.

"Just hold back a little," he teased with a touch of a chuckle, "-or I think Rick might be out of a job."

Laughing, you turned back to Rick whose eyes were still steadily focused on you. It was always a little odd, but you were getting more used to it.

"I'll ask around, see what we have around the prison. Rick-" Hershel cleared his throat, effectively knocking Rick out of his daze -you bit back a smile, "-you wanna see if you can gather up some people to help build? The quicker they're built, the better."

"Yeah, yeah. I can-" Rick blinked, shaking his head just a touch like he was clearing his head -eyes disconnecting from yours, "-I can do that. Carl, you wanna stay with Y/N for a bit?"

You rolled your eyes, teasing, "You're lucky I'm free, cowboy."

Rick grinned, and you felt your stomach flip, as he brushed past you, "I'll owe you one, fair?"

"Fair," you bit back the grin that threaten to split across your lips -solely to limit his ego. Carl was beside you now, so without much of extra thought, you crouched down and asked him what he wanted to do for the rest of the day.

That had been a week ago, and your life had become significantly more difficult since then. Maybe you should've expected it.

It had started when someone, who you hadn't really individually known too well, had come into your office. He'd just said he was tired, much more than usual and you'd figured it'd been his body fighting off an infection. You gave him a few antivirals and sent him on his way.

He hadn't come back to see you after that initial visit, why you didn't know -it had only been just a few days but someone in a nearby cell had approached you. They were the ones that told you that he'd been throwing up blood.

Needlessly to say, when you rushed to his cell, you were too late. For two lives instead of one.

So, here you were, frantically writing on every scrap of paper you could find -detailing symptoms as they arose. It was the outbreak you really had dreaded -you'd last heard Glenn had been struck with some of the symptoms last night. And that had spurred the current frantic writing spree you were in.

Early in that week, you'd sat everyone down at respectable distances and told them of the quarantine plans. Everyone who had felt sick must be distanced and is to rest until further notice. They were most likely to heal with more time for their body to address it.

Still didn't stop you from focusing on the symptoms, running through different options with Hershel -who didn't have as much experience but enough to bounce ideas off of.

It was late, Hershel had headed to get some rest and you'd let him -still scratching away at the paper, and noting somewhere deep in your head to request some iron supplements from the next run. If someone was going to lose blood, they'd at the very least need the iron replaced -maybe that would help with the weakness? That was about as far as you'd gotten. You were sure it was something easily taken care of, just needed a little bit more time to even-

"Hey," the drawl echoed into the room, and you jumped a bit in surprise -you hadn't been expecting anyone, especially at this hour. You spun to the door as quickly as your body would allow it.

"Didn't mean to scare ya," Rick clarified, hands up in the air for a moment before his look smoothed into one of concern -blue falling to what you assumed was your eyebags, "Have you not been sleeping?"

"Rick," you blew an exhale through your mouth -your eyes heavy and clothes disheveled, "-what do you think the answer to that question is?"

He raised his eyebrows, retorting -probably noting your snappy comeback, "So, you haven't..."

"I just-" you sighed, tapping your pencil against the paper that currently held all the noted symptoms and a few of your ideas so far for the disease, "-it's right here, I can feel it. I'm almost there."

Rick pursed his lips, sidling up beside you -pulling up a spare stool to sit directly in front of you, "And this can't wait until just a few hours of sleep?"

"They're-" you swallowed, your hands shaking slightly, "-they're dying Rick. I can't- I can't lose another one. What if you get it, Rick? Or god-forbid, Carl or Judith? I don't know what I'd do-"

"Look at me," he placed his hands -calloused fingers brushing against your chin tilt your eyesight to his, "-that's not happening. Me, Carl, and Judith are all fine."

"But," you urged -tears prickling at the edge of your eyes, "-that could change."

"It could," he agreed, rubbing his thumbs under your eyes -maybe you'd actually started crying, "-but I think a few less hours of writing the same thing over and over again on a piece of paper won't make it worse. You said it yourself, it exhilarates over a few days."

"Rick," you whispered, eyes connected to his, "-I can't."

He sighed, pulling your head forward, and brushing back your hair to leave the gentlest of press of his lips. You hummed, letting your eyes flutter close -just to relish in the warmth there.

"One hour," he hummed against your skin.

You laughed, barely there but it still counted, "Cowboy, I know what you're doing-"

"45 minutes."

"Rick, it's not going to-" you sighed, the smile growing on your face -even just for a second.

"30," he offered, breathing against your hair -you could feel the grin seep across the words.

You pulled back, raising an eyebrow at him -as if testing how far this would go, "Really?"

Rick wasn't one to give up, though, "15."

"Rick," you groaned, "-I'm serious..."

"We all are," he interrupted, leveling a more serious gaze on you, "-it's not just you. Look, what if we have Hershel work on it while you rest, so no time is wasted? That work for ya?"

"I can't wake him up," you answered.

"Y/N-" he started, and you could tell in the infliction that he really wasn't going to give this up. It was his lecture voice, and that always meant business with Rick Grimes.

You caved, and maybe the allure of sleep convinced you a little too, "30 minutes, and you wake me up."

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose -a sort of frustration radiating from him which was unsurprising, "Okay, anythin' is better than nothin', I guess. C'mon-"

"Oh, Rick, no-" you clarified, "-I'll sleep down here."

He furrowed his brows, scanning the space for anything that you could've squinted at, and thought would be okay to sleep on, "What? Where can you sleep down here?"

"That bench will do fine," you spoke, digging around for something to lay on and another to use as a blanket.

"Y/N, you can't be serious," Rick responded, looking around, "-you even have a pillow down here?"

"I..." you faltered, scrunching your brows together, "-I think so."

He sighed, fingers brushing against his temples, making his way over to the bench, "Okay, no, that's not happening. I'm not letting you hurt your neck like that."

"Well," you huffed, "-what am I supposed to d-"

Rick, instead of passing by the bench to look for something close to a pillow, sat at the left side of it -a look in his eyes that said he'd found a solution, as he patted his shoulder, "C'mon, the clock's ticking."

You blinked, was he going to let you cuddle him? Were you going to cuddle?

You were more awake than you had been in the past week at the mere idea of that.

"Look," he started, explaining himself, "-I know it won't be the best, but it's better than the cheapass cushion, I swear."

Good, he didn't really know why you hadn't responded. You couldn't realistically wait much longer though, if that excuse was to hold. He was very persuasive, but could only convince you so many times before it got ridiculous.

So, you grabbed an extra blanket you had stored away and moved to his side. It was agonizingly slow, mostly because there was a part of you that was scared he'd suddenly change his mind. You knew the two of you touched, a lot. It was just... This was more long-term, not a 'heat of the moment, it just felt right' kind of touch. It was all casual things, brushes of fingertips, forehead kisses, spare moment motions. This was new.

Wonderfully new.

"Okay," you whispered, barely a breath and gently leaned onto him.

You were hesitant and didn't want to overstep in any sort of way -afraid of losing this closeness, you went rigid against his skin. Not necessarily because you were uncomfortable, but rather because you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

Rick's breath stuttered in his chest as you pressed into his shoulder, you could hear his heart beating fast under your cheek. Without another word, to soothe you maybe, his hand wrapped around you -pulling you tighter against his side.

You relaxed, breaths coming out slowly through your nose -his scent filling your brain it made you fuzz up a bit, then. The deep wooded scent buzzed against your eyes, and you let them flutter shut -just absorbing well... him.

Still, your mind was humming against the darkness -facts and symptoms fluttering past your mind. It was all consuming.

"Can you-" you faltered, feeling a bit out of place to ask something, "-Can you just talk? Tell me something, anything."

"'Course," Rick hummed, you felt it in his chest as you lay against it -his fingertips brushing up and down your arm, soothing, "-let me think."

You opened your eyes, tucking yourself more gently into his side -the gate was open already, and you found it easier to relax with the knowledge he had offered this himself. He had wished to be this close, and that made your heart beat faster.

"I got my first pair of boots when I was 6," he started, and you laughed into his skin -still intent on listening, "-my Dad told me it was a rite of passage."

You smiled, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing at himself, "-couldn't walk in 'em for months."

"Mmm, well-" you hummed, teasing -as your eyes fluttered along his boots, "-you seem like a professional now."

He grinned, drawling low -as his hand began to brush his fingers through your hair, "Thanks, sweetheart."

And you exhaled, relaxing into his touch -as his fingers massaged into your scalp. The name was new, but you weren't quite awake then -your head filled with the fuzz of sleep and eyes faltering heavily. Maybe you could sleep for just a little while.

"Violet's feelin' better," he hummed, and you could feel his breaths against your temple -he was so close, "-ya must've done somethin' right."

You froze, body rigid -the sleep dissipating from your brain, sitting up enough only to dislodge yourself slightly, "What?"

Rick stared at you -a bit in disbelief, "Violet's okay. It's a win."

"Oh my god," you stood, the blanket falling to your feet -frantic and hopeful as you siphoned through the piles of books and papers scattered everywhere, "-oh my god."

"What-" he stood with you -hesitating to reach out and touch you, "-you alright?"

"No, no, it's not-" you stopped searching to lock eyes with him, "-I'm fine, I just... How long have they been quarantined?"

"'Bout a week."

That was it, that was it. You laughed, wide and bright, "I... That's familiar, I read it somewhere."

"Y/N," he spoke, watching you flutter through the papers -trying to keep his tone calm, and soothing, "-what is this about?"

"I had this theory, remember?" you explained, skimming across some of the pages in books you'd marked, "-Violet got sick and then some of the group had, so maybe it was from them?"

"What, so you were right?"

"Maybe, I just have to-" you corrected, finally finding the book that read 'Swine Flu: The Farmer's Guide', "-bingo."

You skimmed through the words, on edge -waiting for the familiar words. For the words that had buzzed over the bouncing in your head, you knew they were there. You just knew it-

And there it was. Quarantine for a week.

You grinned, wide and bright, tapping along the paper -god, you had been right. You jumped up, rushing up to Rick -grabbing his face, and pushing your lips against the stubble of his cheek. You laughed, bright and joyous, rushing over to the book -spinning around with it pushed to your chest.

He stood shocked still, before blinking out of a daze -eyes twinkling bright and grin wider than yours, a blush barely brushed across his face.

"I've got it!" You yelled out, before pausing, faltering, "...I got it. Shit, I have to-"

"Hey, hey," Rick whispered, stepping forward to press his hands on your shoulders -eyes seeking yours, "-talk to me. Let me help ya, I want to."

"Okay," you hummed, inhaling slowly, "-okay. I'll... We'll just need hydration, lots of hydration-"

"Got it," he spoke, scribbling down on a little notepad he must've found around here somewhere.

"-and still quarantined. For at least a week. They just need some rest. That's it. And keep an eye on their iron and protein intake, keep it balanced-"

Rick didn't speak this time, hand fluctuating through the page -handwriting messy but somehow organized all at once. He was intently listening -it took you aback almost with all the attention he laid upon you, but you were still on a train of thought.

"-and painkillers for whoever needs them. Um, maybe some lesser ones? Aspirin, something smaller, it doesn't-"

"Okay," Rick answered, scribbling down the final note, "-right. I've got it."

"Wait," you started, as he gently placed his hand on the small of your back guiding you, "-what are you-"

"Y/N," he leveled, turning you to face him, "-you need to rest. I've got it all in here, I'll wake Hershel up if I need help. I've got it."

You sighed, matching his eyes -he really wasn't going to give up on this, "Are you sure? I can rest after-"

"No," he echoed, seriousness etched into his face -and the warmth of his hands on you was alluring, almost made you want to sleep there, "-rest. I'm not jokin'."

"Okay," you responded, exhaling and leaning further into him, trusting him to guide you, "-okay."

Carefully, he leaned forward -sliding his lips onto your cheek. It sent goosebumps to your toes, at the soft pillow there -it was new, wonderfully new.

"I'll check on you in an hour, 'kay?"

"Okay," you spoke, breathless with heavy eyes -droning with sleep, "-you gonna take me there?"

"Yeah," he pulled you to his side by the waist, muttering into your hair with the cusps of a grin, "-I'll take ya there."

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