#ocsickficsideblog

[lickstynine]

So sorry to bug you, but I've come back after a super long hiatus and I see that ocsickficsideblog has been deleted? Did they happen to change blogs or if you know of anything? I see that you've collabed with them before sorry for asking, feel free to ignore me if you don't know who I'm talking abt ;;

Unfortunately, she just deleted. While April is still floating around browsing as @dont-look-so-good, as far as I know, I don't think she's posted any recent writing. You can probably find the stuff we collabed on that I reblogged, but that's about it.

#i know i was sad too #anonymous #ocsickficsideblog

[emetoandotherthings]

A Thankful Advent - 24th Dec

I've reached the last day... Goodness, who can believe that Christmas is actually tomorrow?? 😲

Anyway, I've saved this person till last because I honestly don't think I'd have made it through this year without them... @dont-look-so-good / @ocsickficsideblog April, you are the kindest, most gentle, caring, creative, patient, supportive human, and best friend I could ever, ever wish for 💙

I barely have enough adjectives, or adverbs, to describe you April. You are so very very talented, and I know you will go far, and be spectacular. I love you ever so much, and I am so so so very thankful for you 💙💙

Please always remember how loved and cherished you are, like moonlight on a cloudy night, you guide and shine like the amazing person you are.. 💙 Thank you 💙

#est talks #a thankful advent #lovely people are lovely! #i love you ever so much #you're perfect #💙 #dont-look-so-good #ocsickficsideblog

[sarah--writes-blog]

Fluids

A/N: So I don’t usually write for other people’s OCs. But @ocsickficsideblog ‘s boys were just so very tempting, especially with all the fan art running around about Alistair getting sick. This is based on that lovely digital drawing of Alistair on the floor.

We will return to your regularly scheduled Voltron after this fic.

Julius raked back his curls before digging through his pocket for the flat keys. He prayed that he didn’t leave them in the car, and would have to re-climb the three flights of stairs he just scaled. He would not be doing that in his slippers again.

It's not like Alistair could answer the door anyway. He was probably already asleep on the couch. The redhead had come down with a fever, and when Julius went to get him the usual fever reducers, the bottle was empty.

No surprise, Julius thought, He gets fevers with everything, it's a wonder he doesn't just ignite whenever he sneezes.

Still, Julius was worried. And for good reason as well, not just because he was a worried boyfriend. Sometimes the fever paired up with a ridiculously bad stomach bug. That was one pairing he didn't want to witness again. But there were other times where Alistair's fever was simply a fever. It was really the luck of the draw.

In any case, they needed fever reducers, and Julius was willing to get them. He set up Alistair on the couch in front of his favorite movie, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, gave him a gentle kiss on the temple and promised to be back soon. He kept his promise, and within fifteen minutes, he was back at the door, fishing for his keys.

A little slower than usual...he thought as his fingers found their metal target, But it was worth it. He'll like the ice cream.

With a few swift movements, Julius was back in the flat. He didn't dare call out, in case his boyfriend had fallen asleep while watching the movie. That was a very common occurrence. The small boy put the ice cream in the freezer, filled a glass with water, and headed into the living room.

“Alistair, I'm back...” He spoke softly, still unsure of the redhead’s sleep status, “I've got the fever redu-”

Julius was lucky that the glass he picked was particularly sturdy, or else it would've shattered all over the floor.

Alistair's forehead was pressed against the ground, supporting as much of his weight as his knees. His hands clawed at his sides, arms wrapped too tightly around his middle, sweat dripping down the back of his neck.  But the most disturbing part for Julius was the pain slathered all over his boyfriend's face as he gasped for breath.

Without a moment of hesitation, Julius was on the ground with Alistair, thoughts going faster than he could comprehend. “A-Alistair, what happened- wh-what’s wrong? Should I call an ambulance, should I call your mum, sh-should I- what-”

Alistair cut him off with a strained groan, “Jules...”

“What? I'm right here, what is it?”

“Stomach...hurts real bad...” he muttered through clenched teeth. A small part of Julius was relieved. He knew what was going on, he could handle it. But the rest of him was still worried. Sure, Alistair could be a drama queen sometimes, but he couldn't fake pain.

“Are you going to be-”

He got his answer before he could finish the question. Alistair gagged once, and vomit immediately flooded his mouth and nose due to his position. It spilled over the wooden floor and the drawstrings of his jacket, watery from all the fluids Julius had him drink. Julius pulled him into an upright position, hushing the voice in the back of his mind worried about the mess. He held back Alistair's hair in a loose fist and kept his other hand and his boyfriend's arm.

“That's it, all up, come on...” he murmured. Alistair was notorious for many things, and trying to hold everything back was one of them. “You'll feel better when it's over with, just breathe when you can...”

The redhead threw up a lot. Most of it came up in easy waves, almost literally. He refused to eat anything solid for the entire day, and while it made this process easier, it still got everywhere. But neither of them were worried about it at the moment.

Alistair's cheeks were soaked when his stomach finally stopped rebelling. Partially from the force, partially from the emotional exhaustion. He still hadn't gotten used to Julius being there for him, much less watching, and it drained his system.

Luckily, the smaller boy knew this.

“It's alright Alistair...” he soothed, masking his voice to hide the concern, “It's all over now, you did brilliantly. Are you feeling any better?”

“...y-yeah...”

As shaky and hoarse as his voice was, it was still music to Julius’s ears. The corners of his mouth peaked up in relief. “What on earth happened? I was only gone for fifteen minutes.”

Alistair wiped his mouth off with his sleeve. I have chosen a boyfriend with the utmost class, Julius thought.

“Y-you told me to drink fluids...”

Julius blinked. “Yes, but...how does that connect?”

Though his face was still a bit pale, some color came to Alistair's cheeks. “I drank the whole w-water bottle. A-and then the orange juice, a-and the soda you had for yourself,” he sniffed, not meeting Julius’s eyes, “I-I thought you'd be happy I did, but I just ended up feeling sick...”

Julius blinked again. It wasn't just a water bottle, it was a 40oz canteen, and an almost full 16oz soda, not to mention the orange juice. Part of him wanted to scold Alistair, but how could he say anything negative to that feverish face?

Instead, he delicately kissed Alistair's forehead, “No wonder your tummy felt sick. Do you think you got it all up?”

Alistair nodded shyly, closing his eyes to not look at the over 52oz out in front of him. With a little instruction, Julius eased his boyfriend to his feet and led him to the bathroom. As Alistair showered, Julius cleaned up the mess and threw both of their favorite pajamas in a quick drier tumble. Things were always better with warm pajamas.

Before long, the two of them were tucked deep into the covers, limbs tangled in the most innocent fashion. Julius could finally take a breath since he got home. At least Alistair was getting enough fluids.

#I felt like maybe this one was a bit off? #oh well #it happens #ocsickficsideblog #sickfic #fever #vomiting #hurt/comfort #my writing

[cubeswhump]

Whumpmas in July Day 14

Tumblr deleted this when I was nearly done and I want to cry. So take two at @whumpmasinjuly day 14. Tagging five people because I love them all way too much to leave any of them out.

@ocsickficsideblog Is sickfic whump? Well, she's written some good ass whump too. And Alistair is the only man I have ever loved (not romantically though. He's too dumb). And Jasper and his trauma is soooo good. Coming to terms that his mom wasn't perfect. Learning to live without her. And Alistair and his aggression and hot temper. Learning to calm down and fearing being like his dad. Turning out to be more of a stupid dork than a violent thug. And fucking Julius who shows love is blind and doesn't realize he's dating the biggest idiot. Her writing is SO FUCKING GOOD and she has a really good way of showing trauma and recovery. I'll be first in line to buy her novels. Fighting through the crowd at a book signing even though I'm currently texting her. April's #1 fan. Plus she's a fucking awesome friend and I love her. Got me to rediscover my love for writing when my motivation was burning in Hell.

@ashintheairlikesnow Dude. Amazing. I never thought I'd enjoy BBU stories but Chris converted me. I binge-read Danny's full story in like a day and I'm dying (but also dreading) to know what happens to Ora. Bram made me cringe so bad. So good at writing despicable villains. Bram, Branch, Grant. Evil. Fuckfaces. But then there's Ashley. I am madly in love with Ashley and that makes me concerned about my taste in women. Does a great job at showing recovery and then throwing more misery at him and we all love to hate her for it. Seriously, so fucking good.

@haro-whumps I was initially opposed to reading the whole legalized slavery thing but I am loving their Group Whumpees series. I would die for Nyla and Lilah, and I love all the slaves. Greyson needs to take a mental health day, poor dude. I want all the slaves to be happy and free. Along with initially being skeptical of Galo. A dude who approves of a system that denies rights to people based on the parents they're born to?? But he grew on me. God, that sounds bad out of context. I'm enjoying watching Galo navigate through and deal with family ties and trauma of people he's never thought about, trying to be wise and rational when all this is thrust on him. Rot in Hell, Bethany. P.S. I'm amazed to see your art progress and improvement. I freaking adore your drawings of Rat and Bijou.

@whumping-every-day was one of the first blogs I followed. I followed for the vampire whump and stayed for awesome writing. Writes trauma and recovery really, really well. And the whump is brutal. Poor Mutt. Poor Ash. Poor Gabriel. And the vampire healing system, how they need blood to heal and Ash was given only enough blood to stay alive? Dude, fuck. Good whump. And public torture makes me cringe so bad but I love it. And the doctor talking about Mutt still breaks my heart. I'm loving all these series. And I'm in love with Pasha.

@albino-whumpee THEIR ART?? IS SO GOOD??? I scroll through their blog and just stare at the art. Equal parts envy and admiration. Do I want to be you or be staring at your art in a gallery? Expert. Won't be surprised if they're a graphic novel illustrator or a professional animator/storyboard artist in a few years. Or days. Their art is that good. The emotions in the expressions. I'm autistic and have trouble gauging emotion based on facial expression but in their drawings it's clear as day. Fear is palpable, joy is obvious and radient. And that you draw so much of this good shit for free is astonishing. People should be paying thousands for a portrait made by you at an auction. And the stories with Ray. There's so little but I want it so bad. Cold jerk with a good heart. And a doctor? Ecen better! Just you wait. You're making fan art for everyone else but you're gonna receive some mediocre fan art from me in the near future. Also I stare at that drawing of Maribel for several hours a day.

#whumpmasinjuly #i'm in love with everyone on this list #positivity #rambling

[warmmilkytea]

HI, I'M STILL ALIVE and I was tagged by 3 (wow) people: @ocsickficsideblog @mxnsterparty and @1heartsickfics to write 5 stuff I like about myself, which is hard, but I'll try

I'm trying to be honest with myself. It's a thing I really like about myself. I always reflect and analyse my thoughts and feelings, actually my basic trait

I probably a good listener/kind of therapy friend

I'm wery stubborn

I'm curious as fuck

Hmm, I like my drawings (at least some os them)

I suppose to tag my favourite folloers, but I actyally to shy to tag people I never talked to, But I's so cool to have here so many cretors I personally like

#probably was tagged ages ago #thing I don't like about myself is really bad time management skills

[feelingsick]

I’ve been re-reading old fics, and this is just a PSA to remind everyone that @ocsickficsideblog‘s oc Alistair is and will always be Rhys’ BFF

#i love those two dorks

[hold-my-hair-back]

Goodbye

To any follower who, for whatever reason, still follows this dying blog:  You guys probably saw this coming, but I am stepping away from this blog. No, this has nothing to do with the new rules Tumblr is making, in fact, I didn’t know about it until this morning. Currently, I don’t have time to maintain this blog, and when I checked it this morning for the first time in months, I realized people had still been messaging me and expecting content. To me, this seemed unfair, and it made me feel guilty. I don’t want people to think that content will be coming from this blog anytime soon, and for that, I want to set the record straight that I’m leaving. I’m sad, as I never expected to get such a following (400+!!!!), but I need to focus on life. Now that I’m not going to be a teacher anymore (I know, I know. You guys are probably wondering wtf I’m even doing at this point) I want time to process my next stage in life and figure out the path that is best for me, which is going to require my full attention. I graduate from college soon, and I need time and space.  This might not be goodbye forever, but even I’m not sure, so I want everyone to expect that. Thanks to @lickstynine @emetoandotherthings @sickandvomiting @ocsickficsideblog for being my friends during my time on Tumblr, for making me realize that being an emeto lover isn’t anything to be ashamed of, and for teaching me the art of writing it. I will be online for the next day or so in case anyone wants to PM me, and then I’ll move on.  Regards,  Mel

[sickandvomiting]

Thanks to @illnessandinjury for tagging me!!! You’re amazing!!

Nicknames: Pete, Grunk, Gringham, Gershel, Gibraltar, Grungie, Grunkle... Pretty much anything that starts with G, courtesy of my sister.

Gender: Cis-female

Star Sign: Aquarius boyyyy

Height: 5′2″ -- I’m p short haha

Sexuality: Asexual!!! And like ???????romantic. Somewhere on the aro spectrum, but I’m also a thirsty hoe for romance (in theory). 

Favorite animal: Probably cats and snakes but also like 15,000 others

Average hours of sleep: Depends on whether I’ve got shit to do the next day or not. When I do, it’s typically 2-4. When I don’t, and I can sleep in and also take my meds, it’s like 9-12.

Dogs or cats: Cats. I’ve always had cats and I just love them so so much

Number of blankets: 1-2, depending on the thickness and also how cold it is outside.

Dream trip: Vienna, Austria! (Which is actually probably happening next year!!!)

Dream job: Cardiothoracic surgeon.

Favorite song of the week:  Probably uhhhhh Pothole by Modern Baseball??

Things I find comforting: AHAHAHA NOT A LOT... The smell of cinnamon? Sounds of a cat purring? My cat? Xanax?

I’ll tag @lickstynine @builder051 @jojowritesstuff @plotmatsu @emetoandotherthings @i-am-too-sick @geekysparkle and @ocsickficsideblog

[lickstynine]

An exercise I did in drawing more stylized characters, feat @ocsickficsideblog​‘s Alistair and @sickandvomiting‘s Blues Group. 

Everyone is (roughly) to scale height-wise, and for some perspective in each row, Kit is 5′10″, Siofra is 5′8″, Jace is 6′5″, and Elizabeth is 5′0″. 

If you have any questions about characters you don’t recognize, feel free to ask!

#my art #lickstynine art #my characters #friend's characters #ocsickficsideblog #sickandvomiting #kit #alistair #siofra #riagan #cillian #vody #jace #elizabeth

[emetoandotherthings]

MTM: Meet the Mother

A/N: One of the many many prompts/questions I’ve received has been about Aiden and his birth family.. well @ocsickficsideblog​ took on the challenge - and here is Aiden meeting his birth mother for the first time, which catapults him on a major journey of self discovery! (I love love loved writing this with April, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!!!💙) 

“Are you sure it’s the right place?” Aiden twisted his hand in his lap, staring intently at them as though his head was weighed down. “It’s not Lapwing Street, it’s definitely Lapwing Drive.” Blake reached his hand across from the driver’s seat and gave his knee a squeeze.

“It’s definitely the right place Aiden,” he reassured quietly. He hated to see Aiden so pale, withdrawn and anxious. He’d been silent the entire drive, and a few times when Blake glanced over at him, he’d been sure he was hiding behind his fringe to cry. “You don’t actually have to go in if you don’t want to-”

“I do,” Aiden replied quickly; though his breath caught in his throat as he said it. He didn’t want to. Now he was here, in the street that his mother lived, all he wanted to do was go home and tear that letter into shreds. All the questions, and the old aches of abandonment, and the pain of loneliness had reared their heads, like a great gummy maw that might swallow him whole.

Alistair remained silent in the backseat, staring up at the large, imposing house with obvious disdain. He disliked his aunt, and she wasn’t fond of him either, but he was willing to push all that away for Aiden. He leaned forward and gave his cousin’s shoulder a gentle poke. “I can come in with you if you want.”

“I don’t know what - what to do!” Aiden moaned slightly, running his shaking hands roughly through his hair; he rocked back and forth in his seat.

“There’s no rush. Just take your time,” Alistair mumbled. “We can sit here until you’re ready. Or we can go home. Anything.”

He was torn. He looked up at the building, then back down to his hands. What would she be like? He couldn’t move past that question, and that determined that he had to go in. He had to meet the person who’d brought him into the world, even if she’d dumped him pretty soon after. He could hear his pulse bounding in his ears, like he was running at full pelt, as he stopped rocking on his seat and sat very still.

“I think I’m gonna be sick-” Aiden choked, scrambling to open his car door.

“Oh Jesus,” Alistair muttered, opening his own door and dashing out after Aiden, who had stumbled round the bonnet of the car, falling onto his knees at the edge of the curb with one hand clamped to his mouth. Alistair glanced back at Blake, wondering if he’d be intruding if he comforted Aiden in his place, but Blake nodded at him through the windscreen - the look on his face showing clearly that Blake understood that this needed to be a family matter.

“Hmmllk!” Aiden heaved painfully, seemingly unable to move much further, but not willing to give in. Alistair fell to his knees with a bump, putting a hand on Aiden’s back.

“You’re okay… You’re doing fine, Aid, really.”

“Hik’kllluurrgh!” A gush of sick burst from Aiden’s mouth, spilling through his fingers and onto the pavement. “B’kkchllluurrfff!”

Alistair gently pulled his hand away from his face. “You’re just getting it all over you.”

“I - hic! - huulpp,” he spluttered, his chest was tight as his stomach lurched repeatedly, and white stars burst in his vision. “Baallurrk!”

Alistair grabbed Aiden’s shoulders when he started to wobble, holding him up. “Hey, easy…”

“I - I - I…” Aiden stuttered, he couldn’t get a proper word out; he couldn’t even get a breath in.

“Shit…” Alistair gently turned Aiden to face him. “Um, look at me now, Aid. Focus on me. Breathe like I do, okay? In and out with me.” He sucked in gulps of air through his nose, blowing out of his mouth like he was trying to extinguish birthday candles.

Aiden tried to follow, his mouth tasting horrible as he took breaths in and out; he was shaking all over, and even his freckles seemed to have been subsumed by the pallor of his face.

“Oh god…” He mumbled eventually, looking down at the ground and his hands.

“It’s okay, there’s water in the car. We can hose you off,” Alistair said teasingly.

“I need it!” Aiden bemoaned, then he let his head drop towards Alistair’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “I can feel my heart beating in my mouth…”

Alistair hugged Aiden fondly. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t scared right now.”

“But why?” Aiden opened his eyes, looking tearful. “I’ve done this for sixteen years, I’ve known all along…”

“Of course you’re nervous. No matter how long. Look, you know I like history. Nobody said to a group of soldiers “why are you nervous? You’ve been at war for years!” And this is your own person war and we all have them, and whether we surrender or charge is up to us. Your choice,” Alistair said quietly.

“Oh Alistair!” Aiden exclaimed, then promptly burst into tears.

Alistair jumped, looking horrified. “I’m sorry! Oh fuck, what did I say wrong?”

“Nothing!” Aiden sniffed, trying to wipe his eyes with his sleeves. “You’re - just - I’m so glad I found you!”

Alistair felt a lump in his throat, but he fought it hard, not wanting Aiden to see him bawling. He hugged his cousin tight instead. “I’m glad you found me too. Really really glad.”

Aiden sniffed a few more times, trying to hug Alistair without getting any sick on him, then eventually he sat up straighter. “I need to clean myself up.”

Alistair nodded. “Yep. Come on. You feeling better?”

“A bit… My tummy still feels a bit bubbly…” He replied honestly.

“It’s nerves,” Alistair said, hauling Aiden to his feet by his clean hand. “Come on, wash your hand and swill your mouth out.”

“Thank you,” Aiden smiled and nodded; he took Alistair’s advice, swirling the water around his mouth and spitting it out, then cleaning his hand carefully. He paused for a while, then glanced over his shoulder at the house. “I guess I probably should do it then…”

Alistair nodded. “I haven’t seen Sharon since I was about ten years old. I’ve no idea what she’s been up to. So I can’t really warn you.”

“I don’t have any expectations…” Aiden said truthfully, then he faltered. “You’ll - you’ll come with me?”

“Of course I will. If that’s what you want.”

“Please,” he nodded. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, Alistair watched his chest rise and fall; then he opened his eyes and walked quickly towards the house. Alistair watched him, a strange, loving pride welling in his chest as he saw how brave Aiden was. He followed him.

Aiden knocked on the door brusquely and waited, his heart hammering in his chest, and he had to repeatedly tell himself that he wasn’t about to throw up again as his stomach churned unpleasantly. It felt like a lifetime that he had to wait, but eventually a crack in the door appeared and a dark eye peered out.

“Yes?” A harsh voice came and Aiden felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Sh-Sharon?”

Alistair took Aiden’s hand, squeezing it tight.

“Yeah?” She barked, then the light seemed to change in the eye that Aiden could see. “Oh…” The eye flickered across to Alistair next.

“Um...hey, aunt Sharon,” Alistair mumbled awkwardly. “I’m just here supporting Aiden.”

“Aiden?” She sounded confused, then grunted. “Oh, yeah…” There was a pause, then the door swung open. “Well you better come in.”

Alistair glanced at Aiden. “We going in?” Aiden swallowed, nodded, then stepped over the threshold.

Instead of a hallway like he’d expected, the entrance to the house set out clearly delineated flats, and Sharon hobbled towards the staircase, looking over her shoulder and flicking her head.

“I’m in t’ basement,” she told them. She was shorter than Aiden, and hobbled slightly down the stairs as though her feet hurt. They followed in silence and she pushed the door open; the smell of stale tobacco, old whiskey, and cat pee hit Aiden’s nostrils and his stomach turned again, forcing him to grind his teeth to stop from heaving. Alistair wrinkled his nose - so this was why his aunt had stopped being invited to parties. She led them into a grimy and cluttered living room, settled herself in a mismatched armchair and lit a cigarette. She looked up at both the boys, taking a long drag. “Well take a seat.”

Aiden and Alistair perched on the edge of the sofa; there was a long and rather uncomfortable silence, in which Aiden took in the surroundings.

“What d’you want to know?” She asked gruffly. Alistair could see the terror on his cousin’s face, and wrapped an arm around him protectively.

“Just…  just…” Aiden struggled.

“Why did she give you away?” Alistair prompted quietly.

“Everything,” Aiden mustered. “Why you couldn't keep me, or - or my brother.”

“Your brother?” She mumbled eventually. “You're Lee, aren't you?” Aiden flinched when she said this.

“He’s Aiden,” Alistair said. “We said that already.”

“You were Lee to start,” she muttered.

“I know,” Aiden shrunk down in his chair. “Why Lee? Why did you call me Lee?”

She shrugged, flicking off the end of her cigarette and the ash landed on the floor. “Jus’ liked it.”

Alistair remained quiet now, not wanting to intrude - but he held Aiden’s hand tight.

“And?” Aiden asked, squeezing Alistair’s hand for reassurance.

“An’ what?” She snapped. “I didnae ask you to come here! You're the one who wanted it!”

“Yeah, but you have all the answers!” Aiden replied, somehow managing to reign his voice in so he sounded calm, but inside him his heart was pounding.

“Who fucking cares?” She pulled out another cigarette and lit it off the first one. “I canny fuckin’ remember what happened yesterday, let alone 17 years ago!”

“I'm 22,” Aiden said coldly.

“17, 22, see? I dinnae remember!”

“Maybe you should fucking drink less then,” Alistair couldn’t help snapping, noting the faint liquor smell lingering in the room like rotten perfume.

Sharon screwed up her eyes, glaring at Alistair. “You've got no right to say! I know Francesca’s washed her hands of you, ya little ratbag!  Maybe they all thought I was wrong, but she'd have been better if she'd given you away!”

Alistair flinched, his nails digging into Aiden’s palm. “She didn’t wash her hands of me! I washed my hands of them. And I’d have been fucking better off too if she’d given me away, believe me!”

“She should’ve! None of them listened to me, but I was bloody right,” she bared her teeth, and Aiden saw that four of her front teeth were missing. “If I’d kept you Lee, all that woulda happened is you’d have been taken away!”

“So you weren’t capable?” Aiden asked, his chest seemed to loosen slightly.

“I didnae want kids!” She yelled, spit spraying from her lips and her cigarette sending missiles of ash as she waved her hands. “I didnae want tae fuck youse up like I’d been fucked up!”

Alistair was silenced then. Sharon may be rude and insensitive - but she had a point. It was all such a depressing cycle in their family, kids being messed up and consequently messing up their own kids.

“What do you mean?” Aiden said quietly. Instead of the anger he’d felt previously, he looked across at this woman, still relatively young - but with lines which aged her face, and a sag in her shoulders that made her look like she was carrying the weight of the world.

“Lee… right?” Her voice was thick, and trembled slightly as she said it; then she turned to look directly at Alistair. “Ask your fucking father!” She threw the cigarette down onto the ground and crossed her arms tight across her chest.

Alistair bit his nails. “Mother and father never told me anything about their childhood. We only saw the ones on my mother’s side because they were rich, linked to the Raycrafts.”

“Yeah, there’s reason for that!” She snarled, her arms still across her chest like she was protecting herself. “I gave you away cause I didnae fucking want you!”

“Okay…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had babies at all then,” Alistair said quietly. “Maybe you should have been more careful.”

“You ask your father!” She repeated. “Now get out! I dinnae care if you’ve got questions - I cannae answer them!”

“We’re not leaving yet! You owe Aiden this at least,” Alistair cried.

“No!” She screamed, her eyes bulging a little wildly. “I can’t tell you anything!”

“Okay, it’s okay - let’s just go,” Aiden said.

Alistair looked at Aiden sadly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Come on.” He stood up from the sofa, tugging Alistair’s sleeve to take him with him; he stumbled through the room, then paused at the doorway. He turned to look back at Sharon. “I’m sorry.”

Alistair didn’t feel mature or kind enough at that moment to acknowledge that this woman most likely had an awful upbringing too - all he could focus on was that she’d disappointed his cousin. So he pulled a face at her and stuck up his middle finger before stomping out after Aiden.

Aiden felt like a tunnel was closing in around his vision, and he stretched out and grabbed onto Alistair as they climbed the stairs to leave the house. Alistair steadied him, practically carrying the poor boy up the stairs and out of the door. “Easy…”

Aiden’s knees were going weak underneath him, and he leant more heavily on Alistair as they emerged into the open air. Alistair led Aiden down towards the car, pulled open the door and looked in at Julius.

“Jules, can you move to the front?” He asked quickly. Julius did as he was told at once, though he got up on his knees on the front seat and peered back at Aiden anxiously. Alistair let his Aiden lay with his head on his lap.

Aiden lay very still, staring ahead of him; Blake had turned round too, his face creased with concern.

“Aidy? Sweetie?” He said gently, but Aiden’s eyes didn’t flicker. Julius mouthed questions at Alistair, but he just shook his head sadly. He stroked Aiden’s hair with a sigh.

“Maybe we should go,” Alistair suggested, “let’s just go somewhere else.”

“You sure?” Blake asked, and Alistair nodded. “Okay.”

Alistair stayed stroking Aiden’s hair as Blake started driving, glancing down at his cousin worriedly. The car was silence, like everyone was holding their breath. Aiden didn’t know - his brain felt like it’d jammed, like the cogs had stopped turning and whatever grit preventing them was slowly running through them. Alistair eventually leaned over, close enough to whisper in his ear. “Are you okay?”

It was like the dam had broken. Aiden’s face crumpled and he brought his hands up to cover it and sobbed, shaking as he lay curled into Alistair. The younger boy winced, hauling Aiden upright and cradling him in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over again. That was all Alistair could think to say, the only thing that was true. He was sorry it hadn’t worked out with Sharon, he was sorry Aiden didn’t get the answers his wanted, he was sorry that life was so wretchedly unfair sometimes.

“I knew it,” Aiden lamented, his words hard to distinguish through his sobs.

“She’s in a mess herself. It’s not you,” Alistair tried desperately.

“No…” Aiden shook his head a little, clinging tightly to Alistair like a small child. “I knew I wasn’t wanted.”

Alistair held Aiden tighter. “I want you…” But this only made Aiden sob harder, tears dribbling from his eyes and making the front of Alistair’s t-shirt damp. Alistair looked distressed, but Julius craned round and smiled wryly.

“Just let him have a good cry, Star,” he said softly.

“I - I - s-sorry!” Aiden struggled, taking great gulping gasps of air.

“It’s okay,” Alistair said, holding him close. “Just cry it out.”

Aiden closed his eyes, unable to stop the way his chest was heaving and his throat tightened as his whole body quaked. He couldn’t stop it. His head ached as more tears poured out from his eyes. Alistair felt helpless, simply rubbing Aiden’s back and hair and shaking shoulders.

He didn’t know how long it went on for - the tears just kept coming, but suddenly he felt a lurch inside him and he pulled away from Alistair, sitting up sharply.

“Hicc’hurll!” The little left in his stomach flowed up his throat and landed on his lap. Alistair jumped and swore, hastily pulling Aiden’s hair back and calling to Blake to pull over. “Mmlk… Huh…” Aiden looked down at himself, his eyes red and his cheeks blotchy and tear stained; his shoulders sagged.

Alistair smoothed Aiden’s hair off his damp forehead, looking incredibly worried. “Do you still feel sick?”

Aiden shook his head, though he closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the mess. Alistair glanced at Blake and Julius rather helplessly.

“Don't worry,” Blake reassured from the driver's seat, “I'll stop in a few minutes and you can clean up. “

“Thanks,” Aiden mumbled, sniffing and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Julius handed Alistair a tissue, and the redhead tried to mop Aiden up a little. “Wh-what did she mean?”

Alistair shrugged. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Father never spoke about his family.”

“I - would you - oh,” Aiden struggled, covering his face with his hands.

“What?” Alistair asked.

“I can't… “ He wailed, sounding tearful again. “I can't ask you to, but I have to!”

Alistair took his hand again, resigned. “Just ask it.”

“I need - need to speak to your father…” Aiden sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve again. Alistair stiffened, his eyes widening. He started biting his nails, staring down at his lap. Julius craned round in his seat, reaching out a hand, and Alistair clutched him tightly for comfort. “I know…” Aiden wailed mournfully,  reaching out and grabbing Alistair’s other hand. “I wouldn't ask… but, but I just need to know… I need to know where I come from!”

Alistair bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. There was nothing that filled him with more dread than the idea of going to see his father after everything that had passed between them. He doubted they’d even get a real answer from Howard Renfrew - he certainly wouldn’t be up for doing Alistair. But Aiden’s wet, desperate eyes were on him, pleading, yearning. Alistair took a very deep breath.

“We could try… But it’s not going to do any good. He’ll just go after me like always. He won’t tell us. But I’ll try for you,” he whispered miserably.

“Oh Alistair!” Aiden flung his arms around his cousin’s neck, breaking down into renewed sobs. “Thank you!  Thank you!”

Alistair hugged him back tightly, fighting the tears himself. “It probably won’t work. Please don’t get your hopes up…”

“But I can try…” Aiden replied. “Then I know I've tried, and I can put it to bed… Oh Alistair! I know what it means for you to agree… I love you.”

Alistair was already shaking at the very idea of seeing his father again. But he managed to force a smile. “I love you too.”

“I think…” Blake chipped in from the front, “we should all go somewhere quiet and just have some time to relax. You both need time… “

Alistair nodded. “I can’t go to see father today. I need...to build up the fucking courage to do it.””

“No, no - I didn't mean today,” Aiden shook his head quickly. “Just, in the future…” Aiden looked down at himself. “I think I need a shower right now.”

Alistair actually managed to laugh a bit at that. “Yeah, you do…”

Aiden smiled weakly. “Thank you… all of you. You don't know how much this means.”

“We’ll help all we can,” Julius said from the front seat. Alistair just put an arm around Aiden, squeezing him tight.  

“Thank you,” Aiden repeated, resting his head against Alistair’s shoulder.

TBC....

#emeto #emeto fiction #emetophilia #collab #puke #puking #fear #panic #worry #original character fiction #angst #Aiden #Alistair #Blake #Julius #ocsickficsideblog #this is like my fav saga atm

[sarah--writes-blog]

All My Fics

This seems to be a better way to list all my fics! All the pieces from September 2017 or before are under the cut, and I’ll update this every month with a reblog of that month’s fics.

aka: hey guys look at my fics and how much I’ve grown

Support me by buying me a coffee!

Teamwork Shark Week In Space Green Gills Why You Don’t Separate Lance From Keith Stubborn Keith Burrito Aftermath Protocol The Blues Red Cheeks Diet Teeth Without You Vlogging Lance The Healing Corner Lance Gets Gassed Letters Home Follow My Lead Mother Hen Hunk Sparring Match Dancing For Voltron A Group Effort “Lance-ngitis” You Don’t Have To Do This Weight Sleeping On The Job Blue-Eyed Bard Space Dad Stomach Ache Cariño Lance Gets A Guitar Shiro Jr. Lost Lance Qualifications De-Stressing Shiro’s Nose Opportunities Space Mom (200 Follower Fic) Hunk Leads Voltron (For An Hour) One Month Linked At The Ears Experiments Stranded Battle Scars Holt Intelligence Cuddles In Quarantine Keith Bleps Fluids ( @ocsickficsideblog  ‘s Alistair and Julius) His Boy Wet Galra Can Galras Blush? Mute Galra Keith: Fic Style (Commission) Hitting A Nerve Side Effects Shedding Season (Commission) Little Gremlin Bug Bite Shiro To Hero (Commission) Some Days Were Like This

#my writing #all my fics #fanfiction

[sickficwriter]

Can I ask who are some of you're favorite sickfic writers?

Ahh, hello! I’d love to! This is really just a post of which writers I’ve binge read - I’m still discovering more.

@emetoandotherthings - I love the way they write! Their characters are super endearing.

@ocsickficsideblog - I can’t believe I didn’t read their work sooner! They’re good at making me feel like I’m right next to the characters :0

@okay-ill-be-over-here-then - one of my earliest I read! Super fond of their stuff!

#ahhhh my second ask!!!!! #my first is a request sitting pretty in my inbox #hhhh thank so much #squirrel speaks #Anonymous

[feelingsick]

Tagged by @sickandvomiting <3 

I put my phone on shuffle, and these were the first ten songs that came up.

 Do Better - Say Anything

 Meant to Be Yours from the Heathers musical 

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Nancy Sinatra 

Cabinet Battle #2 - Hamilton Soundtrack  

Bodak Yellow - Cardi B

Not Your Fault - AWOLNATION

Dark Star - Jaymes Young

Aha! - Pentatonix 

Disappear - Dear Evan Hansen 

Cops and Robbers - The Hoosiers

Tagging @sicklyfeels, @sugar-me-sick, @nerdlycharming, @ocsickficsideblog

[sickficobsessed-blog]

Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, you have to send this to ten of your favorite followers. (Non-negotiable, positivity is cool~) (ok but if you don’t want to, it’s all good! don’t feel pressured to post this! but at least list 5 positive things to yourself! you deserve it <333) I was tagged by the lovely @seasicklover This thing is so cute and positive ahh! @seasick 1. I'm a supportive friend; I'll stay up all night and talk to anyone, even if they don't really know me 2. I'm good with animals, I love them and they love me :) 3. I'm passionate about writing. I write all the time, and I put a piece of my soul into it. 4. I'm a poet. I can crank out a decent poem in 10 minutes flat about ANYTHING, or a really nice one if I'm inspired. 5. I like my sense of style. I wear a lot of loud, large, button-up men's shirts that I think make me look cute. I don't have ten followers, but I have more than ten favorite blogs! (Most of whom probably don't know who I am so I'm a bit nervous) I'm tagging: @emetoandotherthings @anonyony1 @ocsickficsideblog @emetophiliafics @i-am-too-sick @bleucheeks @brites @toosicktoocare @sickficprompts @sickandvomiting (Let it be known that the people I tagged are my inspirations and I love them all very much)

#this is cute #positivity #self-love

[sickandvomiting]

Someone please send me some drabble prompts?? Possibly fall related, like hardcore autumn vibes because I'm am feeling that right now. Also @ocsickficsideblog was talking about camping stories and just hoo boy that is my shit

[lickstynine]

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Thirty-One

written with @ocsickficsideblog​

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Kit was still snoring spectacularly when the smell of pancakes came wafting through the house. The kitchen was bustling with hungry redheads, all elbowing each other for the first plate. Surprisingly, it wasn't a desire for food that woke Alistair. Siofra had accidentally left the door ajar when she went to get breakfast, and Finny took the invitation, leaping onto the bed and snuffling the boys. Alistair squealed under the mound of dog on his head, then spluttered with laugher. “Finny! You scared me to death.”

Finny boofed cheerfully in response, shoving his nose under the blankets to give Alistair's face a lick. Kit was scrambling around in his heap of blankets, woken by the commotion.

“It’s okay, Kit, it’s just Finny,” Alistair said, trying to sit up. “Happy Boxing Day.”

"Happier if I wasn't being assaulted in my sleep." Kit grumbled. Finny boofed and licked him as well. Kit shrieked.

Alistair laughed. “He just licked you, Kit!”

"I know! It's disgusting! Now I smell like dog!" Kit wailed. Siofra's head popped in the door, her hair frizzy from sleeping.

"Who's gettin' murdered in here?"

“Kit’s being licked to death,” Alistair said.

"Get off 'im, then." Siofra laughed. She let Kit squirm under Finny a moment longer before yelling "Oi! Get down." The dog hopped off the bed at once, cheerfully wagging his tail. Kit popped out of the blankets, red-faced and horrified.

"I've been defiled."

"Ain't the first time. Shower's open, if ye want it." Siofra offered. Kit nodded, and she went off to find him a fresh towel.

“I wish you two wouldn’t say gross shit in front of me,” Alistair sighed.

"And I wish you wouldn't lick your fingers when you eat something sticky." Kit replied, climbing out of bed to search through his luggage for a change of clothes.

“What else am I supposed to do with them?”

"Wipe them on a napkin! Wash them! Anything else!" Kit cried, thumbing between several pairs of sleek, dark jeans. He'd set out a sweater already, navy-blue cashmere with accented stitching around the collar. Eventually, he settled on the charcoal jeans, grabbing a pair of blue-black socks to finish it off. "I'm going to shower. Don't let the dog follow me."

Finny boofed at Alistair, wagging his tail. Alistair shook his head. “I appreciate you, Finny.” Finny hopped back onto the bed, climbing onto Alistair's chest to lick his face. Siofra peeked in a moment later, having thrown a stack of towels at Kit.

"Oi, you comin' to break — dammit, Finny, I toldja get off!"

Finny whined dramatically, turning to give Siofra a sad look. Alistair grinned. “Come on, Finny, I’ll feed you a bit of breakfast,” he whispered.

The dog jumped off the bed at once, trotting to the kitchen with Alistair in tow. Siofra shook her head, closing the door behind them to get dressed. "Idiots."

Gran was still in the kitchen, a massive bowl of pancake batter slowly depleting beside the stove. Riagán and Mr. Rafferty were sitting at the table eating, while Cillian waited for her to finish piling his second plate. She didn't hear Alistair come in, but she felt Finny nosing her side in search of food.

"Well, hello there, mister. I'm afraid these aren't for you," said Gran. Finny whined dramatically, but she just shook her head. "Try someone more gullible, dear." Finny quickly turned to look at Alistair again. Cillian snorted. Even Alistair smiled, putting a finger to his lips conspiratorially in Finny's direction. Now Gran followed Finny's gaze. "Mr. Heathen! Were ye plannin' to say good mornin', or didja just wanna stand there all day?"

“Um. Morning?” Alistair went red. His own family had never greeted each other kindly, morning or otherwise.

Gran laughed. “I ain’t gonna bite, I just wanted a hello. Ye want some pancakes?” She asked, gesturing with the pan as she flipped a cake.

“Yes please.”

“Alright, hang on.” Gran hip-checked Cillian out of the way, grabbing a fresh plate to stack pancakes on. He cried out in protest.

“Gran! I’ve been waitin’!”

“For yer seconds. Be patient, fat-arse, you’ve already outgrown the poor lad.” Gran said, dropping a pancake on the plate and pouring a fresh one. Once it was cooking peacefully in the pan, she turned to Alistair. “Help yerself to a drink while ya wait. I’ve got tea, coffee, milk.” She gestured towards the fridge with her spatula. Alistair got a coffee, going to sit at the table. He still wasn’t completely comfortable talking to all Siofra’s lively family.

Riagan and Mr. Rafferty looked up from their plates, nodding at him. It was Riagan who spoke first, since he knew Alistair better. “Ye ever call your boyfriend, or didja just talk about it an’ forget?” He asked.

“I called him after Kit went to sleep.”

“He doin’ alright?” Riagan asked. He wasn’t super familiar with Julius, but it was hard to hate someone who was basically an anthropomorphic lamb.

“Yeah… His family all love each other and everything. He actually likes going home,” Alistair said. He sighed. “Miss him though.”

“Gay.” Riagan grinned, taking another bite of his pancakes. Gran thumped him.

“If yer gonna take the piss out’o someone, at least be creative.”

“It’s alright, it was an accurate statement,” Alistair said.

Gran chuckled and shook her head. "I'll never understand you children. But at least I know how to feed ya." She offered Alistair a towering plate of pancakes. "Syrup's on the table."

He took it and poured a liberal amount, glad Kit wasn’t around yet to tell him how gross all that sweet stuff was. It still looked like a snack compared to the portions Siofra’s brothers were eating. A cold, wet nose brushed up against his leg, and Finny boofed, having been promised a snack. Alistair slipped him a pancake under the table, looking around for someone with bacon. He’d have to quickly pinch a streak, since Siofra knew he didn’t eat meat. Finny happily scarfed the pancake. There was a plate of bacon in the middle of the table, next to a heap of scrambled eggs. Alistair waited until everyone seemed distracted by their own plates, then hastily grabbed a couple of rashers and dropped them on the floor for Finny. The dog was crunching happily when his owner walked in.

"Oi, what'd I miss?" Siofra asked, grabbing a coffee and dropping down next to Alistair.

"Nothing interesting, I'm afraid." Gran said. "Where's yer lovely date got off to? Still asleep?"

“He was in the shower when I left,” Alistair said.

"Finny licked 'im." Siofra grinned, "'e was shriekin' like I beat 'im with a bag'o bubonic plague."

“He’s always been like that with animals. On the island he used to run away screaming when I caught lizards to show him,” Alistair said.

Riagán snorted. "How big were they?"

“Small enough for a fat five year old to catch them and carry them around.”

Now both brothers were cackling. "Don't he have dragon tattoos?" Cillian asked.

"Yep." Siofra laughed, "Not scared'o needles or giant monsters, but a lil salamander? Lord save 'im."

“Anything small, really. Including children,” Alistair said.

"I don't like children because they're messy and loud. Though based on that, it's a miracle I like you," came Kit's voice from down the hall. "By the way," he continued, "it's rude to talk about people when they're not around."

"Sorry! Thought ye were busy bein' a germaphobe!" Siofra called back.

"I'm done showering. Just brushing my hair now." Kit's usual hour-long shower had been interrupted by the freezing reality of a small water heater tank.

"Oh, so we'll see ye next year then?" Siofra asked.

"You'll see me never with that attitude!" Kit said, hoping she couldn't hear his muffled laugh.

“It’ll be way longer than next year. Practically next Christmas,” Alistair said.

"Very funny, Al! I keep my hair nice, so it doesn't take nearly as long to brush as yours." Kit quipped back.

“I don’t brush mine.”

"Is that why ya look so shitty?" Siofra asked, grinning.

“Partly. The rest is my face,” Alistair said, deadpan.

"Maybe that's why Julie likes ya. He's too short to have a good view of either." Riagán offered.

“He’s just very very good at liking ugly shit if it’s on me. He’s very tolerant of it.”

"It's truly a miracle you found him." Kit said, finally coming to sit at the table with everyone. He had no interest in pancakes, or bacon for that matter, but he grabbed a mug of tea before sitting down. He saw Alistair once when he was grabbing bacon for Finny, and Alistair made eyes at him not to tell anyone. Kit just rolled his eyes and went back to stirring his tea. "Do you all do anything special on Boxing Day?" He asked.

"Not really." Siofra shrugged. "Sometimes if we're feelin' nice, we'll go help neighbours shovel snow, but… I don't feel that nice today. We'll probably just go down to the park in a bit, walk Finny, go sledgin'."

"Ah. Fun." Kit forced a smile, but he couldn't have been less excited.

Alistair snorted. “If you’re looking for a way to dispose of Kit, there’s plenty of quicker ways than hypothermia.”

"Well, I figured ‘e'd wear a jacket… or ten." Siofra shrugged. "I have some extras he can put over top if need be."

Kit tried to smile gratefully, but he was really grimacing.

“He’s really not a fan of the cold…”

"Well I know that. What would ya rather do, then, Ice Princess?" Siofra asked.

Kit ducked his head sheepishly. "I don't want to interrupt your plans. If I don't go, I'll help Al set up his new tablet -" Siofra snorted, and Kit amended, "keep him company while he sets it up."

"Maybe he wants to go sledgin' with Finny." Siofra challenged, her tone light and teasing.

"Then I'll just stay here and become your grandmother's new favourite." Kit teased back.

"You're already in the runnin’," Gran piped up, setting the last of the pancakes on the center of the table. She'd finally run out of batter and was sitting down with a cup of tea.

“I’d go. I haven’t been sledding since…” He paused. “I don’t even know. Since I was like, five.”

"Really?" Even Kit looked surprised. "Julie never wanted to go?"

“It’s never really snowed when we’ve been visiting his family, I know he’s gone before. There’s nowhere to sled in the city,” he said. “Plus I worry about him out in the cold for a long time. He starts coughing a lot.”

"Ah, that's fair. I haven't been sledding since hypothermia. I took Elle skating a few times, though." Kit mused.

"Elle? Is that the guy who booted ye just before we met?" Siofra asked.

"Yeah…" Kit said, grinning sheepishly.

"Who would ever dump you?" Gran cried incredulously.

"Oh, he… he was right to do it. I was being a pretty lousy boyfriend." Kit replied hastily.

"Oh, I doubt that. You're such a charmin’ young man!"

Siofra kicked lightly at her grandmother under the table, muttering in Gaelic, "Stuff it Gran. It was a mess and he's probably still upset."

Gran begrudgingly quieted down, while Kit just sipped his tea, realizing he'd never told Siofra he knew Gaelic. He glanced over at Alistair, suddenly unsure if he'd told his cousin either. Alistair winked at him, grinning. He knew alright. Kit smiled back over his mug, taking another sip before saying, "If you all really want to go, I suppose I could climb inside a taxidermied polar bear and brave the weather."

“Imagine if you did. All the other people sledding would shit their pants,” Alistair snorted. “Remember when we went around your father’s house putting sandwiches in the mouths of all his taxidermied animals?” By “we” Alistair really meant himself, Kit had just been present (and begging him to stop the whole time).

"I remember." Kit sighed. "They didn't find all the sandwiches right away, and Father was rioting for a week because the house smelled like mayonnaise."

“I’m still pretty proud of that,” Alistair admitted.

"Of course you are." Kit rolled his eyes, looking over at Siofra as she stood up from the table and gathered empty plates. He took his empty mug to the sink himself, following along after her. "Are we… intruding? I feel like this should be a thing for your family and Al and I are interrupting."

"Well, if it were a thing for my family, there'd be near thirty more people here. My dad's brother has five kids, and my mum had five siblings, and most'o them have kids, and almost half'o those kids have kids. We just like to see Gran when we get a chance. If ye were intrudin', ye wouldn't'a been invited in the first place." She shrugged, taking the mug from him to wash in the sink with the plates. "Go start puttin' sweaters on. I'm sure I'll be done before ya."

"I don't need that many sweaters…" Kit mumbled, but he hurried away nonetheless. The necklace Alistair had given him was sitting under his current sweater — he wondered if it would be safe. The chain felt so fragile, he was afraid tumbling down a hill could snap it.

Alistair followed him, nudging his cousin. “Irish family, huh? All those siblings and kids.”

"I mean, mum's family was pretty big up until her generation. And Grandfather had like seven siblings." Kit pointed out. He dug through his bags, pulling out several sweaters. "Do you think my necklace will be safe or should I take it off?"

“It’ll probably be okay under your million layers. Sledging isn’t much of an extreme sport. Or at least it wasn’t last time I did it,” Alistair said. He paused. “Seven siblings? I thought it was five! Which two am I missing..?”

"Catherine and Bernard." Kit replied without hesitation. They'd had this conversation quite a few times.

“Oh yeah, those two. Catherine was that one who used to give me cough sweets and call it candy. Why do weird old people do that?”

"I think that was candy by their standards. The olden days didn't have a lot of sweet flavouring." Kit shrugged. "Help me with this sweater?"

Alistair pulled it over Kit’s head. “Don’t know why you have maids when you’ve got me, you know.”

"The maids know how to clean. But they're not here." Kit shrugged, smoothing out his new layer before handing Alistair another sweater.

“I can clean,” Alistair said, pulling the new sweater on too. “Just not obsessively.”

"Mnn, you say that, but I've seen you with chocolate on your face hours after you last ate." Kit countered, looking in the mirror at his last sweater. He still wasn't as wide at the waist as Alistair, but he no longer looked like a skeleton with so many layers.

“I was only little!” Alistair nudged him gently. “You’ve probably put on thirty pounds with those coats.”

"More like ten. I don't think I'd be able to stand if it were thirty." Kit laughed, pulling out several thick coats from another suitcase. He laid them on the bed in order of how he'd put them on, reaching back in the suitcase for a long cashmere scarf, a luxurious dark-furred ushanka hat, and equally well-lined leather gloves. He wrapped the scarf snugly round his neck before beginning to layer on coats.

“How have you never been mugged?” Alistair sighed. “You’re exactly the type of person they’d target.”

"I don't go where people get mugged." Kit replied flatly. "Help me button my coat?" He asked. He'd tucked his gloves into the sleeves of the last one, but now he wasn't nimble enough to button. Alistair rolled his eyes and helped him.

“You’re like one of my kids.”

"Are you working with children already in your training?" Kit looked surprised, then felt like an ass for not knowing.

“Not as much as I’d like, and not care kids yet. We mostly just help out at holiday camps and classrooms. But it’s still great fun,” Alistair said.

Kit shook his head. "I can't imagine doing that voluntarily, much less enjoying it." He smoothed his outermost coat. "You need to put on a coat, too. Did you pack something warm?"

“Of course I did.” He pulled on his own coat, which was a good deal cheaper and shabbier than Kit’s, as usual.  

Siofra came into the room as Alistair was putting on his jacket. She took on look at Kit, who was twice as broad as usual with layers of coats swallowing him, and burst out laughing. "Fuckin' hell! Are ye on yer way to Moscow?"

"Ew, no. There are better places in Russia to visit. And better places to visit than Russia." Kit replied.

Siofra rolled her eyes, muttering about jet-setting posh boys as she took off her t-shirt, throwing it in Kit's face. She grabbed a sweater from her bag, pulling that on and digging through a haphazardly packed heap of clothes in search of a proper coat. Kit struggled to get her shirt off his face, as his many layers made it hard to fully bend his arms. Siofra looked up when he made a frustrated noise, only to howl with laughter again. Alistair joined in too. “You look a little kid in a snowsuit!”

"I just don't want to get cold!" Kit cried indignantly. Even he couldn't help starting to laugh at the absurdity as he fruitlessly struggled to bend his elbows enough to grab the shirt. He gave up flailing before long. "Sheef, please. Help."

Siofra popped up from where she'd stuffed her head in her suitcase, reaching over and snatching the shirt effortlessly off his face. She threw it on the floor and kissed his cheek. "There ye go. Idiot." Turning back to her bag, she stuffed seemingly her whole arm into the sea of clothes, rifling around for a minute before feeling a familiar waterproof lining. "A-ha!" She cried, triumphantly yanking the coat out of her suitcase. Several other things came flying out of the bag, but she just kicked them under the chair the suitcase was sitting in.

Kit was staring at her in astonishment. He couldn't understand how anyone could live with such chaos, much less find anything in it. Siofra saw him gawking, and she grinned, grabbing a beanie and gloves from the side pocket of her suitcase. "What's got ye so fascinated? My shirt ain't even off."

"How did you even find that in there?"

"I knew I packed it. Knew what it felt like. Just gotta keep gropin'." Siofra shrugged, slinging the jacket around her shoulders and stuffing her arms through the sleeves.

“All his stuff is meticulously organised,” Alistair explained.

"Yea, but does he organize it, or does the help do it?" Siofra asked, doing a mockingly posh accent when she said ‘the help.'

“What do you think?” Alistair muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Figured." Siofra shook her head. "C'mon, princess, my brothers are waitin' on us." She said, dragging Kit along while he whined about how he paid his servants and they weren't slaves or anything.

“They’re actually quite decent, most of them,” Alistair said. “When I was little they’d slip me sweets if I sang silly nursery rhymes for them.”

"Still gotta be lousy to spend yer life workin' for some rich wanker. Can't imagine livin' back when everybody did." Siofra grumbled.

"I mean, you'd probably be a court performer or something. Might even find yourself a decent husband if you struck a minor nobleman's fancy." Kit offered.

Siofra scoffed. "Oh, yeah. That's way better. Be a dancin' monkey an' then upgrade to fucktoy."

“I don’t think most would dance anyway. Not back then. Only the pretty ones,” Alistair added.

"Are ye sayin' I ain't even pretty enough to dance for rich twats?" Siofra raised one eyebrow menacingly.

“No, I’m just saying it’s even more unfair if you happen to be poor and ugly.”

"Oh. Fair. It'd be shit to be you back then, eh?" She asked.

Kit laughed so hard, he snorted, and he instinctively covered his mouth. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn't help adding, "No, Al was born noble. He'd just be hidden in a tower where no one could see him, sort of like Quasimodo."

“Fine! He had way more fun. I’d spend my time climbing over the roof and rescuing gypsy girls,” Alistair said.

"Who's stealin’ gypsies?" Gran asked, giving them a confused look as they walked into the living room.

"Don't worry about it." Siofra laughed. "Did the lads already grab the sledges?"

"Yep. They're waitin' out front." Gran nodded. Siofra hugged her before heading for the door.

"We'll be back in a bit."

"Don't rush yer fun. I'll just be nappin'." Gran said, grinning and pulling down Siofra's hat over her eyes. "Dont freeze, either."

Siofra laughed and fixed her hat. "See ye, Gran." She led the boys outside, where her brothers had shoveled earlier this morning. The path was still fairly clear, since it had stopped snowing around dawn. The second she stepped outside, Riagán nailed her in the face with a snowball. She yelped, and Finny came galloping over to see what was wrong.

"Finny, he got me!" She cried, "Avenge me!"

Finny boofed and sped off towards Riagán, tackling him into the snow. He yelled when the dog hit him, but he was laughing before he hit the ground. He wrestled with Finny for a bit before climbing to his feet. "C'mon, boy! We're goin' to the park! Can ya lead the way?" He asked. That was all the incentive Finny needed to go dashing through the snow, Cillian and Riagán close behind. Siofra walked a bit slower, knowing Kit wouldn't be able to keep pace. Alistair stuck by his side too, almost instinctively.

#misadventures of Kit #kit #raycraft #siofra #cillian #riagan #rafferty #alistair #collab #ocsickficsideblog