You can call me Miz! This is mainly a Hellaverse snz/illness kink blog, sometimes with some more general whump. This is an 18+ blog. Minors/blogs with no age will be blocked.
If you know my main blog or other socials, please donāt send them nsfw asks/comments. Keep that stuff here.
I focus more on colds and contagion, but I will post all sorts of snz-related content, mild mess, and general whump/injury. If you want to avoid any of those, blacklist the tags #cw contagion, #cw mess, or #whump.
I will not post em*to, irl mess, or ai-generated content.
I also only post about fandoms Iām in and my OCs, so I wonāt take requests about media I havenāt looked into.
Thatās all from me! Remember to smile when you follow~
I find his whole character arc really interesting and compelling. I like that he has so many layers and that he's not a "perfect" victim, and the pieces of his backstory that we've gotten so far have had me dying to know more about his past and his life as a human.
He's unapologetically kinky. I just admire that, like hell yeah, be your kinkiest and sexiest self, you deserve it.
He's actually really kind and thoughtful, and I've loved watching him be able to show that part of himself through the hotel. Like being able to make space for that version of himself and trust everyone enough to be that person without making jokes. I just love seeing his vulnerability come through and being able to see that he's a sweet person who cares about his friends.
3 snz/adjacent headcanons
He's allergic to peppermint.
He doesn't like being sick alone, so he'll often migrate to the hotel lobby or lounge to have company while he's sick.
His nose has a sneeze button, so if someone pokes it, especially when he's sick/sensitive, he's pretty much guaranteed to sneeze.
3 snz/adjacent prompts/scenarios
This is gonna be so basic, but Angel in comfy clothes with a cold. I remember some old lore about how Angel actually likes wearing comfy clothes or something like that, so I imagine him fully leaning into that when he's sick. Like big oversize sweaters and t-shirts when he's not feeling good, cozy sweatpants, sneezing into the sleeves of said oversize sweaters/hoodies....It's almost like a tell for him, like he walks around the hotel in his comfy clothes with a box of tissues under one arm (in like, a Fat Nug/gets tissue box holder) and can't figure out why so many people are steering clear of him until he sits down at the bar and Husk is like, "Maybe 'cause no one wants your cold."
Angel coming to work with a cold, even though his nose is acting up really bad. He thinks he'll be fineāhe's worked through worse and he can fake it for the cameraābut he forgot about the makeup. He gets in the chair, and the makeup artist gets to work on him. But all the powder and general face touching gets to him real fast, so he's sniffling and trying to hold back sneezes pretty much immediately. The makeup artist keeps having to pause while he hitches and keeps asking him to hold still and try not to sneeze or his makeup will run and then they'll have to start over. He does his best, but it doesn't matter. They're just over halfway done when he dips forward with a harsh and unrestrained (and uncovered) sneeze. He hopes it's just one, but of course it isn't, and after a handful of them, his eyes are watering and his mascara is streaming down his face. They do, in fact, have to start over, and now that he's broken the seal, it's even harder to hold them back.
Yet another basic thing, just soft Hus/ker/dust cuddles while Angel is sick. Angel wants company when he's sick, so he goes down to the bar and drapes himself across the counter and asks Husk for a hot toddy. Husk gives it to him, but Angel falls asleep on the bar and just kinda stays there until Husk is done with his shift. At that point, he carries Angel upstairs to his room and cuddles up with him in bed, making sure he's all cozy and comfy, and Husk falls asleep with him (which is how Angel wakes up the next morning, with his face in Husk's chest).
Someone who stubbornly refused to bring a coat despite their partners insistence now trudging their way through the pouring rain but still stifling every sneeze into headache inducing silence as they shiver with snot leaking down their face because their partner is right there and will not here them sniffle, plus, the rain will wash it away so its fine
(They end up sick and get the 'I told you so' lecture anyways)
Oh to hear Alastor roughly blowing his nose, then immediately feeling the need to sneeze, muffling a few staticky and distorted sneezes into a tissue/handkerchief, which makes his nose start running again-
Fandom: I/ron L/ung + P/roject H/ail M/ary (Crossover)
Pairing, AU: B/loodyM/ary, crossover AU where S/imon is saved by G/race and R/ocky
Spoilers: to be safe, blanket warning for both films (but I/ron L/ung especially)
Length: ~6.0k
Summary: R/yland shares something special with S/imon, which ends up having unexpected consequences. (based on this post)
Includes: sneeze fetish content, allergies, inducing, mess, hurt/comfort themes, crying, praise, a sprinkling of whump (and angst)
Notes: If you told me 7 months ago that I would be pouring my energy this year into writing fetish fic for a popular crack ship featuring one guy played by M/arkplier and the other by R/yan G/osling, I wouldāve said you were out of your fucking mind. And yet here we are. Lord have mercy. Disclaimer that I'm using my best judgement/referencing whatās most popularly accepted on anything lore-related to I/ron L/ung in this thing, so if I turn out to be completely wrong when it's fully explained then so be it! Second disclaimer that there's probably some things in here that scientifically Do Not make sense and I'm very aware of this. Idk man, Iām just here to be gay and have fun playing with my toys :) as they say: whatever, go my bullshit!!!!
Fic Masterlist
The scene reflected in his eyes like crystal panes. A tree climbed and stretched out wide and endlessly above him, with a brilliant sky to fill the space behind it. Long branches swayed about in the wind, leaves shuddering. Brilliant spots of sunlight flashed in and out of view. Somewhere beyond the hiss of the breeze, there was a faint but distinct tingling of wind chimes.
It could've been real to him, if the floor beneath him wasn't so hard. Simonās fingers flexed, searching for soft grass or dirt, but there was only a smooth, cold surface to greet him. If only.
He laid flat on his back at the center of the room, entranced. The digital display surrounded him at every angle, arching over him in a dome-like fashion. How long had he been laying like this? He honestly wasn't sure. It didn't matter.Ā
He did badly want to believe it was real. Well, not that it was real, in the here and now. Rather that the footage itself was real, that it came from a real place like Ryland said. A planet teeming with trees and plant life the likes of which he hadn't seen in ages. Plenty he'd never seen at all. It didn't seem possible that this could exist anywhere after the stars died.
Faintly, Simon could hear an energetic exchange between two voices somewhere else on the ship. One voice human, the other a computer. Ryland and Rocky. It was from far enough down the corridor that he couldn't make out words, but the inflection implied their usual antics. He'd become acquainted with their dynamic in a short period of time. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Quite the pair, those two.Ā
Things went quiet, isolating him back to the ambience flowing out of the speakers around him. Then, he could make out footsteps, human ones, steadily making their way down the corridor.Ā Ā
They stopped when they got close enough for Simon to feel the vibrations through the floor. āSo you are still here,ā Rylandās voice said from above and behind him.Ā
āYeah.ā Simonās eyes chased the sunlight that would flash in and out of view as the branches continued shifting around. His focus remained uninterrupted even when Ryland sat down at his side, quietly watching with him.Ā
āYou're liking the nature views, huh?ā
āYeah. Nice to see trees again.ā Simon blinked and finally looked at Ryland. His blue eyes softened as he met his gaze, and Simon nearly lost himself in them. Like an ocean, threatening to sweep him into the tides- that wasn't the most pleasant thought after everything he'd gone through, actually.
Simonās gaze flicked more uncomfortably about the room. āWe had one, in Eden,ā he went on.
āJust one?ā
āYeah. After the Quiet Rapture, anyways.ā He rested his arm across his torso, where he began to toy with the lower hem of his shirt. āIt was special, somehow. We treated it like thisā¦ I dunno. A symbol of life, I guess.ā That was how it had started, anyways. āThey taught us that we were meant to sacrifice everything for it. When our own blood spilled, it would be the soil to grow more trees. Thousands of them.ā
Ryland looked at him again, pondering his words. āMust've been some tree.ā The sadness and shock lingering behind his glasses didnāt carry into his voice. Simon wondered what he was actually thinking.Ā
āYou said you still have them growing everywhere on Earth, though?ā
āYep. Tons of plants, actually. At least when last I saw it. That wasā¦ a while ago,ā Ryland added.Ā
Right. They had their own star problem in progress.
āWish I could see it.ā Sadness gripped Simonās own features for a second as he spoke.Ā
Ryland leaned forward, hugging one knee to his chest. He looked to the left. āYou can see it here in some way, at least.ā He pointed at the screen, where the footage diverted into a proper field. Tiny pops of color were speckled throughout the tall grass.
Simon turned his head. His expression held even, but the light in his eyes brightened. āWildflowers, right?ā
āIf I had to guess.ā
āTheyāre beautiful,ā Simon breathed. He swallowed hard before he shifted, struggling his way into an upright, seated position. With one arm missing and the other still sore, it would take time before such maneuvers felt effortless again.Ā
The effort was worth it though, to see the field straight on. The breeze disturbed the grasses not unlike the tree branches, causing a ripple to cascade through. The flowers bobbed around in tandem, like a dance of nature. Simon blinked wetness from his eyes, swallowing again.Ā
āSoā¦ did you have any other plant life on Eden?ā Ryland spoke up again.Ā
āMm-hm. I remember seeing certain flowers, at one time. They were too delicate to survive, though.ā A stronger wind cut through, causing the blossoms to sway and bounce in more turbulent fashion. āThere were succulents that managed to adapt without light, at least.ā
āMm.āĀ
They sat in peaceful silence for a moment, both watching, pondering, yearning for home when home was still conceivable as something they couldnāt lose. Wind chimes sounded again from somewhere distant, beyond what the camera displayed.
Ryland suddenly gasped. āWait. Simon. Oh, my God. I forgot to show you. I can't believe I forgot.ā
āHm?ā
āThere's plants on this ship. Actual plants.ā
Simon blinked. He finally looked to find Ryland already back on his feet. āReally?ā He frowned. Was this some kind of trick? Would Ryland really do that to him?
āYes! Yes, cāmon. I'll show you.ā
Simon took the hand Ryland offered to him and pulled himself to his knees. He moved in slow motion, joints still aching just enough to leave him unsteady.
āHow is that possible?ā Simon said through a grunt, pushing off the ground from one knee.
āGrow lights! Plus some care from yours truly,ā Ryland said. The footage continued to play behind them as Simon followed him out of the room. It had been dubbed the Donāt go crazy room, which he found fitting. He'd been spending a lot of time there the last few weeks for a reason, after all.
āThere were a ton of seed packets sent up with us. Or with me, anyway. A few didn't grow well but the ones that survived are doing great!ā Ryland rambled on as he led Simon down the corridor that linked to the observation room. āI'm not totally sure why specifically they were sent with. Most of what's growing isn't meant to be eaten. I like to think they were sent along for some form of enrichment, maybe. Like a callback to home.ā
A callback to home, huh? Simon quietly let that settle in the context of his own past. How foreign.
As they approached the observation room, Ryland suddenly stopped. There was a door to his right, one which Simon couldn't recall ever opening, now that he was facing it.Ā
āHere. Take a look.ā Ryland hit a button and the door slid open, revealing a small room. It was akin to a large closet or a small storage unit in size, surrounded with walls of white not unlike the rest of the Hail Mary. There wasnāt much to see, except for some garden supplies secluded into one corner of the room. Simon leaned to look further in, all the way to the left where he sawā
Simonās eyes widened. What resembled a shelving unit was built into the wall, structured out of a glass-like, transparent plating. Neon, purple lights cast streaks of dazzling neon over the surfaces, making it seem as if the entire unit was aglow. And there were plants. So many plants, lined up like soldiers along the width of each shelf.Ā
Many of them were green, leafy, but as Simon moved his eyes throughout, he spotted blossoming varieties of different colors. Some were as small as sprouts, others big enough that they looked ready for repotting.
He stood in the doorway, unmoving. Ryland held out a hand.Ā
āCāmon. They donāt bite.ā
Surely they were fake, right? For as many explanations as Ryland had already provided him, it didnāt seem possible. How could plants survive out here?
How did Simon himself survive, though? Was he even alive? He was almost certain he was. Maybe. Probably.
He needed to get used to the idea that anything was possible, now that he was here.
Simon numbly stepped into the room and approached the shelving. The plants looked real enough up close. He reached a shaking hand out and touched one, a viney thing that spilled over the edge of its pot and dangled down as it grew. The leaves were pale green and white, and they curled playfully around the tip of his finger.Ā
It wasn't plastic or fabric. It was organic. It was alive.Ā
Simon's eyes, one dark and one crimson, were unblinking as he looked down at it. So quiet, unassuming. Fragile too. Like looking in a mirror, if a mirror could turn back time.
This was life. He was standing face to face with life, life he was so certain had been lost forever. Life he had at one time cherished. A broken memory of the better part of his childhood struggled to resurface behind his eyes, blurry. No, wait, his vision itself was blurry. Whyā¦?
āSi?ā
Rylandās voice pulled him back to the present. His eyes stung. Simon stepped back, suddenly aware of moisture streaking either side of his face. He blinked until he could see clearly again, sending more tears spilling down over his cheeks. He quickly brought his hand up, bewildered as he wiped them away.
He could sense that Ryland was standing behind him, closer than before and yet maintaining a wary distance.Ā
āSorry, I justā¦ā Words caught uselessly in his throat, thick with emotion. āI didn't think I would ever see this again. Ever sinceā¦ā He couldn't stop thinking about it, that he shouldnāt even be standing here now. He shouldnāt have even had the chance to see this again, even if he had believed it might be possible someday.Ā
His breath hitched, nearly spilling into a sob. Something like panic unfurled beneath his sternum as he relived what shouldāve been his final moments. Pain, so much pain. Excruciating pain. Thick, hot blood dragging him under, filling his lungs. Unruly voices screaming in his head, the Eelās, his own, someone elseās, he wasn't really sure, he couldn't breatheā
A hand touched his shoulder. Ryland's hand.Ā
Without thinking, Simon latched onto his fingers with his own, feeling them out as though he'd never touched them before.Ā
Right. He'd woken up here. Alive. He was here. Ryland was here. Even the stars wereā
Simon parted his lips for a shaking gasp. āI know. Iā I know.ā They stood still like that for a moment. Simon carefully timed and counted his breaths in and out, until the tightness in his chest loosened. Tears still fell from his eyes, slower.
āThank you. For showing me this,ā Simon finally said, breaking the silence with a voice gone hoarse. He hadn't let go of Ryland's hand. He didn't want to, if he didn't need to.Ā
Ryland stepped closer, standing at his left, but he didn't let go either. āI figured this would mean something to you.ā Simon held his gaze for a moment, frozen, lost in ocean blue again.Ā
He should say something. One of them needed to say something. Heā
āI can tell you about all of them. Um, if you like.ā Ryland did the honor of breaking the tension. His hand did slip out of Simonās grasp now, but slowly, as though hesitant to let go.Ā
Simon sniffled and wiped at his face once more. āYeah. I'd like that.ā
Ryland had such a way of explaining anything and everything, he'd come to find. There was something nearly intoxicating in how he'd ramble, so animated and excited regardless of the topic. It was clear to him why he'd taken up teaching as a career. He was meant for it.Ā
The angst remaining in his chest melted away as he focused on Rylandās commentary about this plant, that plant, and so forth. It occurred to him how many of these plants he'd actually never seen before, beyond a drawing in a book or a description in writing. Even before the Quiet Rapture, his homeland's environment had limitations in what could thrive there.
āHow do you know so much about all of these?ā Simon interrupted, eventually.Ā
Ryland gave him a sheepish smile. āTo be honest, a lot of it is what I could learn from the seed packets themselves. And some personal observations, although internet access has come plenty in handy.ā He looked back to the plants. āI guess I found it soothing to care for them. And itās a good challenge to learn and memorize what works for which onesā some of these guys are pretty unique, heh. Plus, considering all the supplies were here to make it happen, I figure itās what I was intended to do.ā His smile wavered. āItā¦ helped keep me busy after I first woke up. I couldn't remember much about myself, and it was honestly kind of scary. This was a good routine to have until Rocky found me.ā
Simonās eyes traced over the pot directly in front of him, from which brilliant, purple-blue blossoms sprouted up. āI get it. Plants are soothing to work with.ā He sniffed and passed a hand under his nose, chasing away a faint itch. āThey make good company.ā
āYou said they were scarce where you're from though, right?ā
āYes and noā¦ the environment wasnāt great for a lot of things to survive. But what we could grow was important to keep alive.ā Simon bit his lip, brow knitting together. āI would've liked to be a botanist, or somethinā like that,ā he blurted out. āIā¦ I wanted to study them. Maybe figure out how to maximize their survival, and in turn, ours.Ā
But I was still young then, and that was before, wellā¦ā Simon trailed off, leaving a multitude of things unsaid that Ryland already knew anyway. They didn't need to revisit that sad story right now.
āWhat was the environment like though? During your childhood,ā Ryland asked.
Simon cleared his throat, but an irritation still clung to his soft palette. Was the air really so dry in here? āThink desert. Lots of sand and dust. Light was limited on Mars compared to what youād probably see on Earth, though. Eden was darker yet.āĀ
Rylandās attention was fixed to the very top shelf, where the purple grow lights were absent, yet the plants seated there appeared to be doing well.Ā
āI bet these guys up top would've done well where you were.ā He reached up for one of the smaller pots, a plant made up of tall, long green leaves that stretched stiffly upward. āThis one's a snake plant. They don't need any light to grow. And barely any water. Neat, right?ā
Ryland continued on, first about the snake plant, and then the rest of the plants that lived next to it. They were mostly succulents, which Simon was intimately familiar with. He was content to let Ryland talk like heād never seen them before though. The few that he touched were smooth and cool beneath his finger tips, just how he remembered.Ā
A callback to home. He echoed Ryland's earlier phrasing in his mind. It settled there easier this time.
On and on he went. Nearly an hour had passed by the time Ryland started to lose steam. Each and every pot that had a plant in it was covered, from the basic, most important things to know, to more trivial remarks. How he needed to re-pot one soon, deadhead another, and so on.Ā
Simon listened just as intently, seated on the paneled floor now as they focused on the bottommost shelf. The urge to paw at his face was however proving to be a frequent and useless occurrence. An itch stubbornly floated just inside his nostrils, and in his throat, a tickle. What was irritating him so muchā¦?
āHow do you keep track? Of what gets watered when, I mean,ā Simon said, a knuckle pressing to his septum.
An urge to sneeze suddenly surfaced. Simon flared his nostrils and held his breath, tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt. Perhaps it was the intimacy that the size of the room imposed, being one of the smallest spaces heād occupied so far on this ship.
āNothing special, to be honest,ā Ryland answered. āJust a lot of reminders Iāve set to go off. Itās especially helpful for the guys on the top who only need water every two weeks.ā
Two more times did Simon resist an urge to sneeze before Ryland was wrapping up. In the short period of time that had passed, whatever was plaguing his respiratory system increasingly got on his nerves. He was just beginning to feel restless when Ryland helped him to his feet, and SimonĀ stepped back out into the hall, distracted.
Having reasonable space now between him and Ryland, he was intent on finally letting loose. Except now that he was trying, the actual sneeze itself just would not come.
With a frustrated huff, Simon squinted up at the lights above. Usually that worked, when he was already on the edge. Not this time. He'd just sighed out his defeat again when Ryland caught up to him, the door leading to the plants closing behind him. Simon rubbed his eyes.
āSimon, I was thinkingā¦ how would you like to take care of them?ā
He paused. āYou mean the plantsā¦?ā He turned to face Ryland, brow raised.
Ryland nodded. āI dunno if it counts as proper botany, but if it would fulfill youā¦ā
Simon stood frozen as he tried to comprehend the true weight of what Ryland had just offered to him. āThat would beā I meanā thank you, Ryland. Iādā Iād love that,ā he finally managed to say. He really would, and he nodded before repeating himself, āI'd really, reallyhihā¦hhhffuckāāĀ
Correction: tried to repeat himself. Simon rolled his eyes as the itch suddenly swelled mid-sentence, only to retreat at the last second. As he swiped his hand aggressively under his nose, his eyes welled, the sensation prickling up behind them now too.
Now he had to wipe his eyes. And then his nose again. This was getting obnoxious.Ā
Ryland made a noise of sympathy. āOh, Simonā¦ I didn't mean to make you cry againāā
āI'm not. I-I justā¦ā Another wave of tears took up residence on his water line. Meanwhile, the tingling in his sinuses reared again, this time enough to heave his chest with a breath inwardā āhhHghā! Huhā¦āā only to leave him hanging again. Moisture threatened to escape his nose now too, which he stubbornly sniffled back. āSnff, I keep feeling like I have to sneeze buhht I- hhHā! Fuck, I can't,ā he finally managed to say. Heat scorched the tips of his ears as he realized how ridiculous he must look, breath uselessly catching and dripping from multiple channels.
Ryland seemed unfazed, however. He just frowned at him for a moment, looking him over. A thoughtfulness suddenly crossed his features. āSimonā¦ do you have allergies?ā
āWhat? Ndo, I donātā¦ snfff, think soā¦ā He spoke in starts and stops as he rubbed frustratedly at his nose. And then his eyes again. Hell, even his ears itched, deep inside. Simon bit back another curse word. Why was everything so fucking itchyā¦? He desperately wished he was still equipped with another hand, just so he could tag team his nose and eyes at once. He settled for pinching at the bridge of his nose, thumb and pointer nails digging into his tear ducts.
It was then that Ryland grabbed his wrist, hesitantly at first. āHey. Don't do that, Si.ā Reluctantly, Simon let him pull his hand away, biting back a cough as he cleared his throat once more. āYouāll just make it worse. Trust me.ā
āWhat would I be so ahh-hhā!ā Simon hopefully flickered another glance at the lights above. The tickle burned hotter, and yet not hot enough. ā...Ahhhllergic to adnyways?ā he lamely finished.
āI think it might be the plants. The flowers.ā
That made him blink, briefly pulled out of his torturous haze. āBut Iāve neverāā
āHow long has it been since youāve really encountered any pollen? Your immune system might not be taking it well.ā Ryland gave him a look of sympathy. āI'm allergic too. Not to any of the plants up here. I was careful about what I personally planted, but back at homeā¦ā he trailed off, leaving an image of a miserable, itchy, sneezing Ryland to Simonās imagination.
He wished he could sneeze. He shouldāve taken the chance earlier, when it had seemed imminent.
His hand trembled in Rylandās as the itch started to grow again. āHhhow long do I have to put up with this?āĀ
āIt should get better now that we arenāt in the room. I can give you an antihistamine too, althoughā¦ you look like youād be better off sneezing some first.ā Ryland watched as he hitched uselessly again, expression somewhere between amusement and a sympathetic wince. āI know how frustrating that is. Have you tried looking at a light?ā
āT-twihh-twice already. Ndo good.ā The deeper tones of his voice wavered up into a desperate pitch. His nose threatened to leak again, and against Rylandās advice, he stole his hand back, scrubbing at it with the base of his palm. Warm to the touch, his nose was surely adopting a shade of pink that he was only saturating further. Right then though, he couldn't find it in himself to care.
Ryland bit his lip, touching a hand to his chin. āI mean, you could try toā¦ā His expression tightened further. āNormally I would never suggest this, as itās liable to make things worse before they get better, butā¦ just wait here.āĀ
Simon watched in confusion as Ryland suddenly disappeared back into the room where the plants were kept. He had something in his hand when he came back out. A sprig of something purple. Lavender?
āI can't guarantee this won't just make you more uncomfortable. But it might boost your histamine response enough to sneeze.ā
Simon understood the idea. āWhatever. Jāhhhust as long as I do.āĀ
Even through partially blocked nasal passages, he could already smell it. Heād noticed it before when he was in the room, but this close to his face, it was far more concentrated. A scent sitting between floral and herbal, it seemed to caress his senses with innocence.
Simon had a feeling it was not so innocent though, now that he was face to face with it. Ryland brought it close enough for him to inhale, and he sniffed it deeply, once, twice for good measure. Andā¦?
He felt nothing at first. Until it hit him, and it hit him hard, like a punch in the face. Invisible to the naked eye, every individual pollen grain danced like a colony of fire ants under his skin. Crawling, biting, itching so fiercely he couldnāt think about anything other than how badly he wanted to sneeze.
Ryland was right. Bad idea. Really bad idea.
āHihhghā whatthefuhh-fuckhidhā! hHHā!ā His breath hitched so hard and fast he nearly coughed, nostrils flaring to their widest. He thought it was bad before, but this? Nothing could compare. The sensation skyrocketed to immeasurable levels, buzzing and tickling and rushing its way to every corner of his very existence.Ā
He hoped the payoff would be worth it.
āHEHHādtā!ā The urge took him with such ferocity he forgot how to properly submit. Simonās head bobbed down, but the rush of air caught in his throat uselessly. āhihāghHā¦!ā And it hurt. His arm instinctively hugged his midsection, bracing for another bout of pain.Ā
āHHEHhāgtā!ā Again, he was unsuccessful. Pressure throbbed in his temples, sinuses, and throat. His lungs shuddered under his still healing ribs. Yet, the need to sneeze remained at critical mass, untouched. Overwhelmed and dizzy, Simon stumbled back into the wall behind him.Ā
A hand touched his back. Ryland stood at his side, speaking quietly into his ear, āJust relax, Simon. Youāll feel a lot better.ā His hand rubbed between Simonās shoulders in slow, soothing motions.
āIāmb t-tryigāā hhHHā!ā Whether it was Rylandās gentle command subconsciously at work, or his equally gentle touch loosening his posture in just the right way, his body finally remembered how to sneeze properly. āhHHRāESHhhhāihā!ā Perhaps too properly. A harsh, angry sound split out of him through gritted teeth, tearing at his throat. His abdomen clenched tighter with white hot pain.Ā
Above the misery though, he would've groaned in relief- if the relief of finally sneezing had lasted longer than a half second. One proper sneeze was simply not enough to tame the wildfire burning at the center of his face now, and he was gearing up for another before he could even recover from the first.
āhH, huhhHā!ā Simonās gills fluttered at either side of his neck, furiously forcing air back into his lungs. He felt a shift within his sinuses as he tilted his head backā a warning sign that the next one would be far more productive. āhhehHā! hHEGHH-SCHeuhhā! Ghā!ā
Fuck. Fuck, shitā
It bent him at the waist, spraying and spilling snot down onto his upper lip. That was where the problem came in. That in his mindless haze, he raised an arm to catch and cover himselfā his left arm. The wrong arm. The one he didnāt have.Ā
This was a recurrent issue, trying to use it when it wasnāt there. He hadnāt gotten used to its absence and so far feared he never would.
Simon was able to open his eyes for a second, as he realized his mistake. Heād caught his own shirt in the crossfire, the fabric speckled with wet spots. Worse, heād caught Ryland too, who was still hovering beside him, hand still rubbing his back.
āOhh, shhit, Ryland, Iām sihā sorrihhHāhuHHā!ā He could barely apologize before he cycled back into the fit. āhHHRāSCHHhieuhhā!ā Where they initially tore at his throat, they'd evolved to pull from a higher, more desperate pitch in his voice register. He wasn't sure he could ever sneeze like this if he tried. Not the sound, nor the pattern- it was unlike anything he'd experienced ever before.Ā
āDonāt apologize, Simonā¦ It's okay. There, yes, just like thatā¦ā
There was that too.
Rylandās voice in his ear sent a shudder down his spine, one which he couldnāt grasp enough clarity to acknowledge the implication of. āhiEHHāSHIEuuhhā!ā His armā the good one, which heād managed to raise after his initial fuck upā was instantly drenched. There was no space for him to be mortified about it. He couldn't even find the time to whine at the pain shooting sharply through his sides, over and over. All he could do was keepā s-sneezingā! āhhHRHāESCHHhā!āĀ
His knees threatened to buckle. In fact they did, partially, and not just because he was lightheaded. For as strange as the circumstances were, this was the first time in a long, long time that words of praise were sweetly touching his ears. Before this, for most of his life, he'd only known voices that spat out propaganda and command after command, until he'd been molded into the perfect weapon they desired. The hand touching his back now too, would've been cold back then. Stained in sin, guiding him only to fight and maim, for whatever he'd been brainwashed into thinking it was worth.
But now, someone was being gentle with him. Yes, unapologetically gentle with him, Simon the Butcher, Simon the Convict. Did he really deserve this?
His knees buckled further. Ryland noticed him stumble. āWhoa, carefulā¦!ā His other arm hooked around his front, catching and pulling Simon towards him, mindful of his still tender ribs. He turned him around, holding him upright against him, chest to chestā
āRhhyland, whatāre youā I still hhhave toāā Simon gritted his teeth, eyes burning as he fought against another sneeze. He was painfully aware of how close he was to the other man, how firmly he was holding him at his hips, and the way he couldnāt help but lean into him despite his instincts telling him to resist. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to let go but smack dab between them.
āLet it out. Itās okay. I've got you,ā Ryland assured.Ā
Simonās hand trembled as it grabbed the closest thing it could findā the bottom hem of Rylandās shirt. He held that handful of fabric like a lifeline as another sneeze shuddered through him. āhHHhā¦ehHHāSCHHIUehhā!ā Ow, ow, ow. A sharp ache ran through his shoulders this time as he tucked his chin to his own chest, reluctant for Ryland to witness any part of this so close to him.Ā
Ryland wanted nothing of the sort though, apparently, as his arm maneuvered over the back of his neck. He pulled Simon in even further, obliterating the space between them. āhhā¦dhHhā¦!ā He wheezed into his shirt, inhaling Rylandās scent, something so familiar and yet never hitting his senses at a dose as high as this. Simon's head spun. āhhEEHHāMMFSChhā!ā He had no choice but to sneeze into the fabric, into his chest. All but melting into him.
āGood, Simon. Breathe. Good. Bless you.ā
Maybe he would melt away, if he kept talking to him like that. The soft cotton offered a relief he didnāt know he needed, and Simon quickly found himself freely muffling sneezes against him, bracing his full weight against Rylandās taller form. Completely and utterly anchored to him.
Eventually, finally, the space he had to recover between sneezes began to lengthen. The fire in his sinuses died down to embers, diluting into a dull throb that climbed up between his eyes. The onset of a massive headache, he was certain.
He maintained his face against Rylandās chest for a moment, breathing heavily. Ryland continued drifting sweet nothings into his ear.Ā
It was over. He could stop with the praise now, Simon thought. And yet, he did nothing to indicate that to him.Ā
When he finally had the strength to lift his head, the air was cold against his face where moisture still clung to his skin. āOhā shitāā he hissed when he saw the mess he'd made. A massive wet spot darkened the fabric across Rylandās chest. At the center, it was glossy, and Simon recoiled in further shame.Ā
āBetter now?ā Ryland was smiling at him. Smiling after he'd turned him into the equivalent of a human snot rag. Did anything make this guy cringe?
āBut yourā your shirt, I'mb sorry Iāā
āIt can be washed.ā Ryland blinked, suddenly seeming to notice how close they were still pressed. He didn't move though. āI didn't realize you'd have such a reaction. Iām surprised Rocky didnāt come running to see what the matter was, heh. That sounded intense.ā
Simon nearly flinched from the sudden rush of heat running under his cheeks. āI-intense, yeah,ā he stammered. His hand still clung to Rylandās shirt with a white knuckle grip. He couldn't find it in himself to relax yet. āI thought I would break another rib if Iā ohāā
The words got stuck in his throat as Rylandās hand suddenly moved up his back, all the way to the nape of his neck. Gently, he scratched at his scalp, fingers intertwining with dark, messy locks of hair. Simon closed his eyes to hide how they rolled with euphoria that could drop him to his knees, if he let it.Ā
Rylandās hand slowly made its way to the top of his head, where he continued stroking his hair. Then, abruptly, he stopped. āSorry. Is this too much?ā
Simon blinked open his eyes. He kept his vision level with Rylandās chest, close enough that he could make out the miniscule vibrations of his heartbeat. It was elevated. Was he nervous? āNdo. Ndot at all, snff,ā Simon finally said. Ugh. How could he still be so congested after that?
Satisfied, Rylandās hand continued its delicate massage, sending goosebumps cascading over Simonās skin. āI'm sorry the plants made you so miserable,ā he said, eyes focused on the wall behind them.
āIt was worth it. I think,ā Simon said, the corner of his mouth twisting.Ā āI suppose I shouldn't be the one taking care of them, thoughā¦āĀ
āHey, it's not the end of the world. We can try some antihistamines and see how you fare,ā Ryland quickly assured. āMaybe we could separate them out too. Whatever ones donāt bother you could be yours, and Iāll do the rest.ā He glanced at the door, continuing on, āThe air might circulate better too if we leave the door open, so long as our gravity is active. Plus, you have to remember we were in there for a while. Thatās a lot of exposure timeā¦ā
Simon knew it wasn't much, what he was describing. It wasn't as if shifting some plants around or digging out some pills for him was the equivalent of uprooting his entire life as he knew it. But it may as well have been. No one had done much of anything for him in this realm, at least not since he wasā¦
He usually felt the absence at the right side of his chest, where he used to wear the holster his mother had given him. Prior to when he had to part ways with it on the SM-13, he always had it on, even after the blade inside had been confiscated by the COI.Ā
It had once served as a grounding tool for him. Something for him to nervously grab and rub his thumb over. Slow, soothing motions over smooth, dark leather. He wasnāt reaching for it now though, he realized. He just held on to Ryland instead. Ryland, who was treating him with more kindness than anyone he'd ever known, besides her.
āYou keep telling me you arenāt an angel, but I still think youāre lying to me.ā The words slipped past his lips before he could stop them.
Ryland stopped his rambling and stared at him with owlish eyes. He grinned as he spoke, āI'd only be lying to you if I told you I was.ā
Simon bit his lip. His heart pounded in his ears. Why did his chest feel so tight right now? Residual allergy symptoms, right? Surely that was it.
āThereās more to life than what youāve known, Simon. And I'll show you as much of it as I can.ā
Everything stopped. The air left his lungs. His eyes burned fiercely again. Simon suddenly couldnāt bear to look at him, so he did the only thing he could think to: press in close, cling to him with an arm around the waist, stiffly until both of Rylandās arms returned the embrace.
They stood like that for a while. Way longer than they needed to. Simon wasnāt completely sure what that meant. Did Ryland know? His pulse was still heightened, beating nervously against Simonās ears.Ā
Maybe he was just as uncertain, and yet embracing it all the same. Maybe Simon could do that too.
He was forced to break away finally, once the congestion shifted and he was incessantly sniffling again. Not sneezing though, which he was grateful for. His sides still ached.
āLetās get you something for your allergies. Then maybe I can show you more plants, virtually. I'll bet Rocky wants to see them too.ā
āIād like that a lot, Ryland.ā
Simon stopped to glance back at the door leading into the plant storage. He had a vision of himself, calm, at peace, tending to them inside. Not a memory of his younger self, but a vision of the not so distant future. And he wasnāt alone. Ryland was there. So was Rocky.
Ya'll know damn well I hate doing this, but i'm in a bit of a shit situation in terms of my finances being taken. I'm just trying to make it through the month till my next disability check drops in.
$5 or even just a reblog is great ^-^
Hiya! Tysm for the ask! I have not, and Iām happy to do so :) ā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļø spoilers for the TAD/C finale below~
3 things I like about Gangle:
1. Her voice omg sheās so sad and precious my poor girl ššš every word she ever says is just so endearing
2. I love her character design!! The comedy and tragedy masks (+ manic mask) and the ribbons?? Thatās really interesting and aesthetically nice! And the way her ribbons move is just fascinating to watch like seeing how much weight and shape theyāre given. The effects of the masks on her is also really fun to me, as well as maybe an interesting analogy for her being bipolar/having a somewhat similarly presenting mood disorder if thatās the case for her
3. Abs/tragedy!!! Sheās so fucking cute with Zoo/ble š„ŗš„°š„°
4. I like her art a lot š„ŗ and I love how much she loves making it
3 snz/adjacent hcs:
1. Gangleās extra unsteady on her feet when feverish because her whole body is made of ribbons, which are super lightweight. So, sheās more prone to losing her balance. If Jax gives her a light shove, Ragatha puts a hand on her shoulder in sympathy, or Zooble tries to guide her by the hand to her room to rest, etc., Gangle might surprise them by fully falling over (and maybe breaking her comedy mask in the process) as if her ribbons just are barely supporting the weight of her body. Maybe even that her ribbons are a little uhh less able to hold tension if that makes sense? Slightly closer to normal ribbons than fully controllable living ribbons that can hold objects well.
2. Her hitches sound a little like when she cries lol? Sometimes theyāre really breathy, but oftentimes theyāre more so very vocal whimpers and whines. The others at the Circus sometimes mistake it as her crying. š„ŗš„ŗ
3. Sometimes itās a looot of drama and buildup for just one (1) little sneeze. Sometimes itās a sudden hitch that throws her into a rapid fit of ticklish sneezes. It varies for her. On rare occasions, she can actually sneeze fairly loud, and she is immediately mortified by it and apologizes.
4. The most pitiful when ill that anyone has ever seen. Little whimpers of discomfort. Shaking like a leaf because she weighs as much as one. Fever blush is extremely prominent on her white porcelain masks. Sniffling. Just kind of very sad and wanting comfort, which she absolutely gets, especially from Zooble, but also from Pomni and Ragatha.
2. Post-finale, Gangle comes down with an awful cold. Caine tries to help because one of his humansāfriends, nowāis?? Suffering?? He can help he wants to help how can he help?? Especially since the group isnāt sure if Caine might be a little more resistant to catching her cold due to being an AI and how much power he used to have, but heās less powerful now tbf. Gangleās wrapped up miserably in bed and Caineās just like āIām, uhā¦ sorry I canāt be of much help, especially without some of the power I used to haveā¦ but, uhhhā¦ would itā¦ make you feel any better to draw together again o-or anything else? š„ŗā And Gangleās like, āItās okay, really, sndff. Drawing does sound nice, actually. Iāve been kind of bored with nothing to do.ā
And they draw together for a while and Caine conjures anything she needs and is kind of so eager to be helpful that he has to be told to tone it down lol. Like he checks in SO frequently and also tries to bless every single one of her sneezes, even through a long rapid fit. So, she has to tell him she appreciates it, but usually you can just bless someone like once or twice for that and he nods and does his best to adjust to the new information about human interaction. In the next day or two, Gangleās still sick but doing much better! Aaand Caine appears to have caught what she had and is now really sick. Gangle invites him to draw together again if he needs something to do or wants company, and heās sooo touched by it, especially with the fever.
3. Gangle gets soaked in cold water during an adventure, e.g. falling into a frozen lake when the ice breaks (which is awful luck for her because again she weighs like 2lb at MOST sheās even barely touching it), out in the rain, some of the adventure is underwater, etc. Her ribbons take a while to dry off, and until they do she really is soaked to the bone and shivering. She ends up catching cold from it, maybe even while still on the adventure. Zooble notices and tries to help her warm up, but itās already too late. They still try to look after her though. š„ŗ
4. Post-finale, Gangle takes care of Zooble when theyāre sick, and, as Zooble was worried about, she ends up catching it. At least now they can cuddle since theyāre both sick!
for the ask game: since you already did vox and alastor, might i propose murdermedia version? otherwise, i would love to hear your astari/on thoughts!!!
Hi, Mal!! :D ššš Tysm for the ask! I would love to do all three tbh! I think Iāll do Murder/med/ia here and A/star/ion in another post just in case anyoneās mostly interested in one of the two fandoms, especially since oooooh boy did this one get long š š š feel completely free to skim lol
Human Alastorāāā
3 things I like about him:
1. I was so absolutely gagged by the reveal that he had actually contacted Hell (Rosie!!!!!! My beloved! Genuinely coincidental for username lol) before death to make a deal because he knew damn well he wasnāt going Up Thereeeš¶ lmao. Like I was Not expecting that for anyone and itās really cool to me! We kinda knew Al was a serial killer and prob cannibal in life, but thereās something about the whole āI want to continue my funā thatās an extra layer of Yikes (affectionate) for me lol.
Like you believe youāll go to Hell and one of your main reactions to that is Well Iād Better Ensure I Can Keep Killing People lmao (and obviously blah blah safety blah blah control)? Contacting Hell through a radio is also really cool and on brand, especially when it works! And although mayyybe couldāve asked for a little more specifics, he plays it pretty cool for Talking To A Literal Demon In Literal Hell
2. His character design! This version is pretty high on my list of chars I might want to cosplay, especially since 1) some gender envy 2) tbf itās just easier to cosplay and 3) itās a little similar to Box Voxās outfit and I Did Actually cosplay him so lol a couple of the things I was missing I do have. But yeah his hair is pretty, I like the glasses both for aesthetics and as a nice precursor to his monocle in Hell, and I do really like his outfit in general
3. I kinda love the duality of him being so put-together and charming but also having that much much darker side
4. For Murdermedia, I love when he pretends not to care about Vincent as much as he does. Tsundere behavior. Used to not letting anyone close, takes some time to wear those walls down, especially if he hasnāt had anyone close in this way before
Honorable mention. Big fan of him being obsessed with radio enough and in the worst place at the worst time to die in such a way that he becomes so very shaped in Hell lmaoo
3 snz/adjacent hcs:
1. If Alastor admits to feeling unwell with no coyness nor even anger nor complaints, JUST out of genuine misery or as an update, thatās a terrible sign. Heās very, VERY sick. If itās an update thatās not just to tell Vincent to keep his distance, thatās because heās so sick that itād be wise to let someone know about it because he might need their help. That is an SOS, Vincent go help steady himāor bridal carry him!āon his way to bed and get some meds in him to reduce that fever ASAP
2. Still tries to keep up appearances and preserve his dignity as much as he can while sickāhe has to be in dire fucking straits to fully abandon his pride
3. Local radio host hates losing his voice, even more than Vincent does. In addition to the obvious reasons of why Alās voice is important to him, he also just hates not feeling in control.
4. Very attentive caretaker despite trying to play it off as Not As Worried As He Is! Keeps track of Vincentās fevers and makes him soup or gumbo. Makes him rest, which is something really ONLY Alastor can get him to do
5. Extremely good at holdbacks and stifling, as well as hiding illness or allergies
3 snz/adjacent prompts or scenarios:
1. Luring out and murdering some rude snob gets impeded by said rude snobās cologne getting to Al. Bonus points if Vincentās here and Al has to reassure him that heās not coming down with something. Vincent offers to finish the job, but Alastor insists upon doing it himself, meanwhile the poor victim is just listening to these two fret over each other and bicker lmaoo
2. Alastor comes down with a cold/flu and does an absolutely remarkable job of hiding it all day long, even throughout his radio show. Heās certain no oneās the wiser, only to come home to several cans of chicken noodle soup from like five different brands on the counter, a teapot already boiling, more cold and flu meds than one person could ever need, and a Vincent who seems both happy to see him as always but is also giving him a concerned pout. Turns out only one (1) person knows him well enough to pick up on the slightest, subtlest clues of illness in his voice and mannerisms during his radio show.
Alastor pretends to be more annoyed at the overdramatic reaction, but his usually cold dead heart is actually extremely warm and fuzzy right now. He asks whether it was really that obvious or just makes some coy comment about how Vincent must have been paying such close attention to his show, really just to prompt Vincent into confirming that Al was NOT obvious on air earlier. Vincent is the only one who would notice Alastor hiding an illness, but luckily for them both, heās also the only one Alastor is all right with knowing it and taking care of him š„°š„°š„°
3. Alastorās sick but has to attend an event regardless, especially since heās not given anywhere near the amount of leeway for things as Vincent is allowed not only for being so popular as an entertainer but also just for being a white man. Vincent has no need to skip the event though since heās perfectly healthy, so he spends the entire time in guard dog mode. Alastorās just trying to get through the event while hiding his illness and keeping up appearances. Meanwhile, if ANYONE EVER seems to be bothering Al for one singular moment, Vincent is behind them in an instant, making a passive aggressive comment to put them back in their place with a charming smile or distracting them with talking business and leading them away. Al really appreciates it because while he absolutely can handle himself just fine, he also is exhausted and has a headache and really wants to deal with people as little as possible until the event ends and he can go home.
4. They get unexpectedly snowed in at Alās murder cabin in the woods after committing a murder in said woods!! And one or both of them start coming down with a cold, but they donāt have everything they would usually like to have on hand when sick š„ŗ like they donāt have as many handkerchiefs as theyāll need. Alastor can eat their victim if he wants, but Vincent will NOT tyvm lmaoo. They could be extra cuddly by the fireplace for warmth even if that might risk contagion. This could actually be really fluffy OR kind of angsty if theyāre stuck there but one of them is rly feverish so the other is extremely worried about them. Like they donāt have meds or anything and theyāre trying to balance keeping them warm but also bringing down their fever (kind of corny but could wrap some snow up in a towel/scarf/etc to use as a cold compress potentially?) and they feel a little powerless to help because they canāt exactly drag their barely-lucid partner through a fucking snowstorm in the dark allll the way home and they canāt just leave them here to try to do that on their own either. Very, very concerned and restless keeping an eye on them and doing whatever little they can to help šš„ŗš„ŗš„ŗ
5. I talk about kink!Al pitches in Vincentās section, but Iāll put kink!Al being the one induced here. Soo. Maybe they start out experimenting with Al inducing Vincent. But then, while theyāre having fun with that, Vincent asks, āYāknow, actually, I was wondering, isā¦ is this sort of setup the way you, uh, prefer to do all this? Or, uh, did you want me to try making you sneeze or something?ā
And Alastor is caught very off guard by this and goes 0v0 like eyes widen, smile widens, face warms with blush, deer in headlights. And Vincent just chuckles fondly and says, āWell, Iāll take that as a yes, huh?ā And Alastor tries to play it off with a casual āhmm, perhaps sometime,ā but itās already been made so clear how tempted he is by the idea. So, if maybe Alastorās been sitting on Vincentās lap, Vincent flips him over, pins him down, and hesitates a moment because a) heās so very into Alastor, and he has to take a second to admire the image of him underneath him looking up at him with want in his eyes and b) he has never tried inducing someone before and feels kinda awkward LMAO but hey if Alās into it then heās into it too. In fact, he gets really sold on it because the concept of turning Alastor on by making him lose his perfect control over himself, indulging his kink that heās never explored with anyone else beforeāVincent is beyond happy to do so omg.
Maybe Al likes being on this side of it more than he expected because heās such a sadist, buuut smth smth s2e4, being a brat IS kind of his thing, isnāt it? Maybe he didnāt expect to be so affected by being forced to let go of his control over himself for once, and the āaww, bless youās from Vincent are NOT helping lol. On a slightly sillier note, maybe Vincent feels kinda vindicated that Alastorās failing to hold back too lmao like āyeah, see? Itās a lot harder to hold that back than it looks, isnāt it??ā Like if Al had teased him about it before lol. Still, Al does do better than him at holding back when he tries to abskfhwkshs
Human Vox aka Vincent Whittmanāāā
3 things I like about him:
1. Dork. Shark-loving dork. The lil pins on his lapel and his sparkly outfit at the end with shark tail-shaped coattails and actually his whole setup in that scene! He pitched Shark Week decades before it started irl on his vision board. Honestly, a few of his choices of murder method were a little dorky lol like the shark tank one and the wheel. I wuv himmm
2. Speaking of murder lmao, some of the more violent ones did make me go āohh shit :O :Dā ahdkwhdkahdjs like the stage light one and the hanging via microphone cable, the latter especially because of the swinging bodies being used as a transition to show present day Vox
3. I love that heās so so driven on pursuing his own ambition that not only is anyone in his way in danger, but he wears himself down (did not look okay towards the end there lol) and inevitably flies a little too close to the sun and is responsible for his own downfall, much like Vox in s2
4. For Murdermedia, I love Vincent being down fucking atrocious for Al lmaoo. Like local self-absorbed big shot with a budding god complex, whom I usually hc as not letting anyone close because he sees himself as above others too much smth smth lonely at the top, now having someone close and he is. HEAD š OVER š HEELS š for him. I love when fans have Al be extremely violent and sadistic and Vincentās just watching like š³š„µš« šš„° lmaoo like thatās just so fun and funny to me
1. Doesnāt get sick very often, but when he does, it hits him hard. Especially because he continues to run himself into the ground despite needing to rest. He haaates being unable to work and chase his ambition. Heās so mad at whoever got him sick that they may want to get their affairs in order lol. However, being a Fucking Creep who tends to get in othersā personal space and casually touch them does NOT do him any favors during cold and flu season sometimes, especially if he doesnāt realize that person is sick
2. Tries sooo much to deny being sick to everyone, including to himself. Tries to keep up his Perfect Image, only to soon cave and pathetically mope to Al about how shitty he feels
3. Wants attention and affection even more when sick! Though he mumbles something like āmmh, you should probably keep your distance though. I donāt want you to get this,ā he says it with all the misery of someone partially hoping to be disagreed with lol. Like he protests a bit when Al does come too close, but heās also sooo glad to have that affection. If Vincentās lucky, Alastor lets him rest his head on his lap, maybe running his hand through Vincentās hair š„ŗ
4. Local yapper and entertainer reallllly doesnāt like losing his voice, the very thing he will later claim to be for the public and name himself after in Hell. In fact, if heās feverish, he might even shed some tears over it, feeling frustrated and insecure
5. Could be very fitting for Mr. Newer Bigger Brighter to be allergic to dust, the very thing that accumulates when things are old or unchanged for some time. And ofc maybe worse with it in Hell because TVs are kinda well known to not mix well with too much dust, annnnd depending on how we hc his gills they might only make him more exposed to it
6. Bad at holdbacks and stifling. Tries really hard to maintain his pride and does okay at first, buuut soon loses control of himself as he tends to in general
7. When Alās sick, he gets met with sad puppy dog eyes from Vincent, offers to murder whoever got him sick, overly frequent check-ins, refusals to keep distance, as much affection as Al allows, etc. And thatās all nice and lovely until the very next day, when Vincent inevitably comes down with what Al has But Worse Than He Has It and handled with much less grace lmao. Vincent still tries to ignore his own health to take care of Alastor, but Al makes him lay tf back down and begrudginglyāthough fondlyāis mostly the one taking care of both of them
3 snz/adjacent prompts or scenarios:
1. Vincent accompanies Alastor to a library or antique store, only to take rather poorly to all the dust. It starts out manageable, just sniffling and roughly rubbing at his nose, which he shouldnāt do given that he has dust on his hands, but Alastor has to point that out to him a little later. Then, itās a quiet hitch that he canāt keep fully silent, followed immediately by a couple half-stifled sneezes muffled into his sleeve. Alastor gives him a smile thatās some mixture of amused and judgmental, but he blesses him. Only a minute later, Vincent sneezes again, still desperately muffled into his sleeve but not stifled at all, and Alastor blesses him more pointedly and offers him a handkerchief. Soon, Vincent fully fails to keep it quiet at all, even his hitches growing sharp and urgent.
If theyāre not at a library, eventually Alastor guides him outside with a hand on his back to practically shove him out of the door to get some fresh air, then casually returns to quickly wrap up his business and comes outside to check on his poor partner whose nose has become quite red and still very itchy, if the ticklish yet forceful fits into his borrowed handkerchief are any indication. If they ARE at a library, then Alastor has been getting progressively annoyed with this loser failing to be quiet for once in his life lmao, and said loser is extra embarrassed and mutters occasional apologies in between sneezes. Alastor tells him something like, āVincent, if you must overreact to whatās merely a little dustāā pauses as Vincent sneezes again as if just the mention of it is enough to set him off again āācanāt you at least be quieter about it?ā Vincent replies that heās TRYING to be quiet but canāt help it, and since that response is given through another loud fit and he trails off overcome by it, Alastor decides itās time to leave and damn near drags him out of the premises lmaoo
2. Alastor decides to teach Vincent how to cook some favorite meals of his because he thinks Vincentās taste is Boring. However, maybe a dish he shows him/guides him to make happens to have certain spices that happen to get into the air too much, maybe especially if there was a mishap while they were bickering. Itās more likely Vincent whose nose gets irritated by it, but I will say that it might be funnier if Alastorās the only one affected or at least the most affected lmaoo, since Alās just gone on and on about how used to preparing this dish he has so surely he should tolerate a bit of the spices involved? At least better than local guy whose last name is one letter off from just being Whiteman lmao?
3. Alastorās been extremely busy and distracted as of late, and Vincent is desperate for attention. Alastor makes the mistake of advising Vincent to be cautious about the current cold and flu season and bringing up what a mess Vincent was the last time he came down with something. Itās a mistake just because Vincent remembers how much attention and affection he got from Alastor that last time he was sick, and this leads him to have Stupid Ideas. Either A) he actually intentionally catches something or B) he pretends to get sick just for one night, since he doesnāt actually want to feel shitty, disrupt his work, or infect Alastor. For route A, Alastor would be so very exasperated if Vincent ever gave away that it was intentional.
For route B, maybe Vincent is just so the type to get carried away with things that he overcommits to the bit and pretends to be sick enough that itās unreasonable for him to be completely better the next day, since he intends to say he just fought it off. And that gets him caught. Espeeecially if maybe Alastor actually does get sick that very same next day and when he complains that Vincent got him sick, Vincent absolutely fails the deception check and is too guilty and surprised about it + is like oh shit sorry but I think I was just a little off last night Iām fine now. And maybe Alastor tells him to come closer and surprises him with a kissā¦ only to then tell him, āThere. I thought Iād save you the trouble of lying to me about being sick. Now, you actually will be! :)))ā (this may or may not just be based on a dialogue thing I wrote and then have been slowly turning into a short proper fic lol)
4. Kink!Alastor is really fun here, especially because with really any era of two-sides/established relationship Radiostatic you want to do, you have NEVER seen a bitch as willing to indulge their partner as this fucking simp, Vincent, is. Alastor wants him?? Alastor wants to pay attention to him?? Alastor gets hot and bothered over him?? All he has to do is play along with a niche kink?? Absofuckinglutely he does his very best to please!!
Alastor induces him with a feather, dust, or (revolutionary ik) 1+ feather from a feather duster. And Vincent coughs a little and is like, āFuck. Yeah, thatās de-hehhhh-finitely gonnaā¦ w-workāhuhh-EHHZSHh! āKzschhāhuh!ā And he sniffles and looks up at Al with big round eyes and itās CLEARLY a vibe of was that good is that what you want I wanna do good for you
And Vincent craves attention and approval so much, ESPECIALLY from Al, that I feel like he would absolutely love being praised by him for doing a good job throughout the whole experience. Anything Alastor tells him to do is done immediately. Maybe after getting more acquainted with what Al likes, they can incorporate it into their generally more frequent dynamic of Vincent domming and Al being bratty (smth smth ābeing a brat is kind of your thing, isnāt it?ā etc. although itās not like he wouldnāt enjoy being switch with Al too like cāmon heās down so bad)
5. This could go for either or both of them, but given their, uh, more murderous pastimes, one absolutely could get away with a snz while hiding scenario. Alone or together. For instance, maybe theyāre hiding because their victim was supposed to be alone but someone else is Definitely There, so they slip into a closet thaaatās a little too dusty for one or both of them. Maybe theyāre out in the woods after having killed someone and theyāre still covered in blood (which is! Quite incriminating!) when 1+ other person comes nearby (god forbid if theyāre looking for the victim), so they hide behind some trees/bushes, but one or both of them take poorly to the pollen of the nearby flowers/trees/etc. Maybe in any situation, one or both of them are sick. You could mix and match even.
Either way, theyāre probably kinda annoyed/exasperated with the other one having trouble keeping quiet, even if this is a scenario where BOTH of them are struggling to do so lol. They also might expect Alastor to be fine keeping quietāand maybe he is at first, but as time goes on the odds are looking worseāand Vincent to fail so goddamn badly at it LMAO. Fun if theyāre right, wrong, or anywhere in between. Also could be fun for kink!char for either of them.
God to be stuffed to the brim with cold, coming home to snuffle and sneeze my way through insisting that it's nothing I can't handle but as the night goes on, I'm filling tissues, paper towels, hand towels..really anything I can get to my nose fast enough.
Eventually, fourth hand towel to my face, I trudge into the bedroom and tentatively crawl into bed, bullying my way into your arms with a defeated but grumpy look.
I saw someone say they know they have a cold over allergies if they automatically sneeze after blowing their nose and that might be the hottest thing I've ever read.
immediate snz post noseblow is one of my biggest h*rny braincells like oh that's how sensitive we're talking ... they're just tumbling out with every vibration huh.
