Latest Posts by lillcarolyn - Page 5

Someone with a bunch of energy and a lot to do succumbing to a cold slowly as their activity burns on. Be it a party, photoshoot, etc, any public event with a few people and obligations for the sick person in question. 

They’re buzzing around, trying to conversate with everyone they’re supposed to, keeping an eye on time-sensitive issues and all the while not noticing a vague… icky feeling outside of chalking it up as jitters. 

Mid-conversation they’re interrupted by a burst of dry coughing and hear a faint scratchiness in their voice. 

“Are you okay?” “Yeah, don’t mind me, just a tickle in my throat, now where were we?” 

They continue, the cough only getting more and more obtrusive until they break off from everyone else to have uninterrupted coughing fits that leave their hair damp with sweat and their cheeks rosy. They feel a little sluggish now and they step slower. 

They’re back to zipping about, their throat sore and scratchy, and they’re on an energy high, getting as much done as they can, trying to squeeze out a positive expression as they get uncomfortable. 

Then they start sneezing, wet, harsh sneezes shielded by a cloth napkin, fashionable pocket square, or a tissue, and suddenly they feel lethargic and achy, and they just want to go home, feeling feverish shivers crawl up their spine as they stagger over to their partner near the car. 

“You all burnt out?” “I suppose- Ah’tschiew! Ah… A-Ah’tschiew!- ‘Scuse me… *sniffle*” “ You sound like you’ve come down with something,”  “More like something dragged me down with it, uch- AH’TSCHIEW!”  “Well then, it’s home and then into bed so you can rest,” 

I like it when a whumpee has to be told that they’re sick or hurt upon waking up. Like, they’re so deeply confused that the full extent of their condition doesn’t even register until someone says “hey, easy now. You’ve been very sick.”

Someone who sounds sick. Not necessarily coughing, sneezing, sniffling sick, but… sick nonetheless.

Their voice is low and scratchy, and their m’s and n’s are a lost cause. They sound hoarse and tired, and like their head is absolutely packed full of cold. Everything they say has a nasally twang, and they purposely avoid words with the dreaded m and n. Even if their language was catered for stuffy noses, they would still be too stuffy to understand. Their v’s would sound like b’s, and their t’s would be d’s. Congestion would take over whatever words they were trying to say, and they would clear their throat in frustration when they had to repeat themselves constantly.

Whump Prompt #643

How long does A manage to hide the symptoms of their diagnosis before their friends finally find out?

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“...”

“Come here and let’s get you to bed.”

“They’re exhausted.”

The majority of the team is down with a deadly illness. Only a few are still up and functioning – one of them is their medic, who is pushing and pushing and pushing themself to find the cure. No food, no rest, nothing but the endless cycle of tests. This is life or death; they can’t care about themself when their loved ones are dying, no matter if the immune ones are begging them to rest.

When the medic’s body finally gives out, the immune ones immediately think it’s because of the nonstop exertion. As soon as they reach them, however, they realize that the medic has almost every one of the symptoms. They’ve been hiding it for the sake of saving the others all along.

new fic In Which Team Snakemouths New Home Is Not Quite As Ideally Set Up As Canon

It took a lot of work to get there, but finally they’d gathered enough berries to pay for a house.

“Mhm. It's good to not be homeless anymore.” Leif remarked. “We’ll be sleeping on the floor, but at least we’ll have a floor to sleep on.”

Beette narrowed her eyes at her, “...Oh!” She huffed, going back to her resting (lightly smug) expression. “Did I not mention? You can have the furniture too.” She waved a hand dismissively as she spoke. “It’s just not worth the berries to have it shipped all this way, especially when none of it was anything special.”

“Gee, thanks,” Vi muttered.

“You could have been a little more gracious,” Kabbu told her as they made their way toward the Hive’s exit. “Anyway, I would have thought you’d be excited to get something for free.”

She crossed her arms. “Technically, we bought it with the house.” A sigh. “Of course it’s good! But that doesn’t mean I have to like how she said it like she was being all charitable. Ugh.”

“So, your usual problems with other Bees,” Leif said.

The sun had already set as they got off the elevator, the town dark and the desert chill settling in.

“Hey!” Vi called, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Leif pointed just ahead of where she and Kabbu were walking. “The inn. To sleep.”

“We just bought a house , with beds, and you want to waste money on an inn?”

With an overdramatic groan, L eif l eaned against the wall.

“... She does have a point,” Kabbu said, although he snuck another glance toward the entrance and the light emanating from it.

“But it’s so far .”

“We don’t have any berries left to pay for it anyway,” Vi said.

Leif flopped to the ground. “You planned this, didn’t you.”

“No?! How would I know how much of a reward we’d get for that last request?”

She grumbled, but got up and followed the other two.

The mine tunnels cut down travel by a lot, but it was still long enough that even Vi was slumping by the time they exited the Palace. She leaned her head against the doorframe of the house – their house – as Kabbu figured out which way the key went in the lock. When he got it, they all practically fell inside.

The house wasn’t particularly wide, but it went pretty far back, and the height of the ceiling bordered on r idiculous . The open front took up most of the floorspace : living room, a small dining area, kitchen, and a ladder up to a hatch in the ceiling in a single space. More importantly to them in the moment was the back rooms. One, a little small, appeared to have been used for storage. The other, the bedroom...had a single, oversize bed.

For a long, silent moment, they all stood in the doorway staring in at the room. The Leif and Vi yelled “Dibs!” at the same time and ran for the bed.

Vi shoved at Leif, but it didn’t knock her far, so by the time Vi flopped onto the bed, she was right behind her.

Leif managed a tenuous grip around her, but Vi wasn’t holding back her flailing. So she collapsed forward on top of her.

Which did quell her for a moment, with a sharp yelp. But then she was back, and managed, with a pointed jab, to shove Leif off of her.

Except she ended up on the far side of the bed instead of off it.

“H-Hey now, there’s no need for that!”

They halted mid-tense for lunging at each other to look at Kabbu.

He was still in his original spot in the doorway, waving his arms. At the pause in their tussle, he relaxed a fraction. “There’s plenty of room. Can’t you just share, at least for tonight?”

They both looked down at the mattress. He wasn’t wrong .

With a huff, Vi fell back onto what she guessed was her side now, limbs splayed out. “Guess Bee extravagance comes in handy every now and then,” she muttered.

Leif had started to melt into the covers, but suddenly perked up. “Wait, where are you going?” she shouted at Kabbu.

He stepped backward back into view. “Getting ready to sleep?”

“You’re not going to fit on that couch.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me! I’ll figure something out!” And then he was gone again.

They both settled in under the covers, but despite their earlier exhaustion neither fell asleep.

“If it was anyone but Kabbu I'd think he was guilting us on purpose,” Vi said, curled on her side facing the wall.

Leif also didn’t move, laying on her stomach. Her “mm” was heavily muffled by the pillow.

Another long silence.

Vi shifted around three times, increasingly more agitated, until finally she kicked her blankets off.

“...You know, we’re pretty sure you could fit on the couch.”

For several seconds, she glared up at the ceiling. Then, still without looking, she smacked at her.

“Ow,” Leif said, in possibly the most sarcastic tone she’d ever used.

Vi ignored her, getting up and trudging toward the door. “Kabbu!”

From the other room, scuffling. “Vi?” His voice was slightly higher than normal. What seemed like the exact next second, he dashed around the corner, skidding to a halt in front of her. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She batted his hands off her shoulders. “Just...get in here.”

He followed, but stopped in the doorway, clearly still having expected something to be wrong.

Leif patted the empty side of the bed. “Get in.”

“But-” He looked at Vi.

She sighed heavily. “We wanted to at least c heck to see whether we’d actually all fit.” She had no intention of squeezing in with her teammates, but knew it would be the fastest and easiest way to get Kabbu to agree to lying in the bed .

It turned out they did fit without having to be on top of each other, although they couldn’t avoid brushing against each other (much to Vi’s annoyance, since she’d somehow ended up in the middle).

Kabbu sighed contentedly as he settled in. “Thank you for checking, Vi; I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

He shifted for a moment like he was going to comment on that, then stilled. “Goodnight, Leif. Goodnight, Vi.”

“Good night,” they both murmured.

Now all Vi had to do was wait until Kabbu fell asleep and climb out to sleep in the other room, unbothered. Which shouldn’t take too long. The bed was obnoxiously comfortable, she noted, now that she was less distracted, and it was cozy-warm (even for her, since she’d shoved a blanket between herself and Leif). Even if they weren’t already tired, it was a perfect setting to just doze...off…

Next thing Vi knew, she was blinking awake in morning sunlight. Because of course in typical Bee fashion, the curtains were slightly more decorative than functional. (In her own room back at the Hive she’d managed to get them thick enough it could look like night at any hour. Just how she liked.)

As she got over the brightness, the immediate next problem she noticed, as she tried to move, was that she was now squished between Leif and Kabbu. Even more annoyingly, Leif had grabbed one of Kabbu’s arms, hugging it to her front (faced away from the other two), which effectively trapped Vi there.

“Ugh.” As much as she could manage, she started poking at Leif to get her to move.

She stirred, mumbling incoherently, but then just snuggled in tighter, if anything.

So she renewed her efforts, until finally Kabbu pulled his arm back and rolled over –

Vi grinned, stretching. Now, she could-

– and onto the floor, a loud crash as the movement knocked over the small bedside table.

Swearing under her breath, Vi crawled to the edge of the bed. “Kabbu? Are you okay?”

It looked like the table had fallen away from him, which was good. He wasn’t facing her, but he was moving a little and groaning, which was...at least better than being unconscious or screaming. She was pretty sure on that one.

The mattress sank down just behind her. “What did you do this time,” Leif said groggily, as she draped herself over Vi.

“It was an accident!” she yelled, at the same time as Kabbu sat up, mumbling “I’m alright.”

With a laugh, she slid down to check on Kabbu. “Guess that means we need a bigger bed.”

Vi sat completely still for a moment, eyes narrowed as she tried to process the remark. “...Why?”

“So we can fit better.”

She scowled. “I am not sharing a bed all the time.”

Apparently satisfied that Kabbu actually hadn’t gotten hurt, Leif turned to face her, draping her head and arms across the bed. “Then we’ll keep this one and you can get your own.”

“...Um,” Kabbu said in the background.

“Why do you get the nice expensive bed?!”

“Because you don’t want to share.”

“Oh, so I have to pay-”

“Alright, hold on.” Kabbu stood in between the two of them, blocking sight lines. Using the same firm tone, he said, “We will figure out something that works for all of us. Okay?” And then he stood there expectantly.

“Okay,” they both agreed, in different flavors of mild exasperation.

“Good.” Then, he deflated, sitting at the edge of the bed with a huff. “But can we please at least eat breakfast first? We have a kitchen to make it now and everything.”

“Do we have anything to cook?” Leif asked, sticking her face back in the blankets. “We doubt there’s anything here already.”

“We can go shopping,” he said, undeterred. “Maybe even get a little extra of things that’ll keep.”

Vi kicked her legs out. “Ok, but we have to check the kitchen first, ‘cause my berries are on there being just enough cooking stuff to make it look nice. She seems like one of those you ‘shouldn’t have to cook at a vacation home’ types.”

There was a stretch of silence.

“Fry’s,” they chorused, and went to head out.

The Lost Souls stand there.

…?

…!!

Suddenly, the memories are flooding back!

Keep reading

Heartbeat Prompts

“I’m just going to check your pulse.”

“Your heart is racing.”

“Your pulse is weak.”

“You’ve got a strong pulse.”

“Can I listen to your heart?”

“Can you listen to my heart?”

“Can I check your pulse?”

“Can you check my pulse?”

“My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest.”

“Why is your heart racing?”

“My chest hurts.” 

“I’m going to take a listen.”

“It’s alright, I’m just listening to your heart.”

“Take a deep breath, it should help slow your heart rate.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m just checking your pulse.” 

“I can never find my own pulse.” 

“Let’s slow down your pulse a little, okay?” 

“Would it be okay if I checked your pulse?”

“Can you feel my heart racing?"   

"Can you hear my heart racing?"   

"Your heart is pounding."  

“Your heart is pounding.”

"I’ve never heard anyone’s heartbeat before."   

“I want to get your heart racing.” 

"Your heartbeat is soothing."   

"That’s not how you use a stethoscope."  

"So how do I use this stethoscope properly?"  

"I love hearing your heart racing like this for me."  

"I want to feel your heartbeat."  

"I want to hear your heartbeat."  

"I can’t get my heart to calm down."  

“Take a deep breath.”

“This might be a little cold.”

“Just breathe normally.”

“My heart is racing.”

“Your pulse is racing.”

“Your heart rate is normal.”

“You can listen to my heart if you need to.”

“Let’s have a quick feel of your pulse.”

“Is your heart racing like this too?”

Febuwhump, Day 1 - Touch Starved

This is late, and turned out to be mostly a bunch of idiots fighting with each other. Oh well, it's still done. Doesn't matter if it's good or not - it's out. Unbeta'd, might post on AO3 later if it's worth cleaning up.

Snakemouth Den was dark, dank, and absolutely full of mushrooms.

Kabbu could have come up with a better description for it, really, but considering the amount of mythology surrounding it, the number of adventurers rumored to have died in its depths, the treasure rumored to lie within, and the century-and-a-half of people who had vanished into it never to return, he likely could have come up for a better description for it a week ago, when he was still taken in by the splendor of its myth and the many stories about it.

A lot of mythologized places lost their glamor, once you’d been wandering through them for a week and seen nothing but mushrooms and crystals. It certainly didn’t help that most of the cave was too clogged with spores to smell a foot in front of you. The place’s gory reputation certainly didn’t help – he’d been smelling hemolymph on and off for at least the past few hours, and he didn’t want to know if it was multiple corpses or if one of the undead ants that had attacked them earlier had followed them.

At least he had company.

Vi was quite the fierce fighter, doing away with foes far faster than Kabbu could on his own, and finding Leif was a stroke of good fortune all on its own. The moth had a sharp sense of direction, which was a boon and a half when every tunnel in the place looked the same, and had likely saved them from running in circles more than once. With his aid clearing their path-

“Vi.”

Kabbu’s train of thought abruptly derailed as the moth’s voice cut through the silence. He slowed, seeing Vi do the same out of the corner of his eye, her wings flicking open with an annoyed buzz.

“What?” Vi asked. “D’you need something?

“You’re injured.”

That made Kabbu stop in his tracks. Injured? When had-

“Your thorax. Under your secondary claws.”

“I- no, I’m not! I’m fine! I’m not- I didn’t get hit with shit!“ Vi hissed. She fluffed her fur up, glancing to Kabbu for rapport- but now that he was looking for it, the hemolymph plastering her fur to her body was unmistakable.

“You’re not very convincing when you smell like a crime scene.”

Now that he got a closer look at her… yes, she did kind of smell like a crime scene. He wouldn’t phrase it like that himself, admittedly, but it explained where the hemolymph smell was coming from. Kabbu wracked his brain, thinking of when she could have picked up an injury without her noticing. It couldn’t be the spider, or the fall, or the-

“Those… reanimated ants. They must have-“

“Those fuckers didn’t do shit to me! I’m fine!” Vi swung her weapon for emphasis- only to aggravate the wound, making her bite back a sharp hiss.

“Vi-“ Kabbu tried to say, but she just snarled at him.

“Shut it. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding all over the ground,” Leif pointed out. Vi growled at him.

“Team, stop fighting,” Kabbu tried to intervene, stepping between them. “We just need to bandage it, and she’ll be-“

“You don’t need to bandage it,” Vi interrupted. “I’m fine.”

“If that gash was half an inch longer, you’d be spilling guts out your sides,” Leif said.

“I’m not spilling guts out my sides now, am I?”

That… was not a particularly compelling point.

“If something gets in a lucky shot, you will be,” Kabbu said. “Just- let me take a look at it, and-“

“And what?! Do you think I’m just gonna lie down and let treat me like one injury’ll take me out of the running just because we’re teammates? I’ve only known you for a week, and-“

“Vi, I-“

"That's enough of that." Leif deftly weaved around him and plucked Vi off of the ground, and she went stiff, freezing like a weevil that had only just realized they'd wandered into the path of a northern moth. Kabbu poised himself to intervene – even he knew she disliked touch, after a week with her – but Leif just tucked her stunned body into his ruff, securing her into place under his wings with a secondary limb like she was a plush toy, and kept walking.

Kabbu just stood there, feeling as stunned as Vi looked, as Leif simply wandered off into the cave.

Finally, his brain kicked back into gear and he burst forward. “Leif, you can’t just-“

He was cut off by a purr. A very loud purr, the sort he’d only really seen from extremely contented bugs, and yet-

Kabbu looked into Leif’s arms, only to see Vi… melted into them. It was as though she’d lost any pretense of shape, simply dissolving into Leif’s claws like a slug or a snail. It was…

Leif shrugged. “If she won’t take care normally, then we’ll have to resort to manhandling. Usually bugs don’t take to it that well, admittedly.”

“Shut it,” Vi grumbled. Her voice was hard to hear through the purrs still swelling in her throat, rattling through her tiny frame like she was in the middle of the world’s smallest earthquake. She fluffed herself up, which only really served to make her look more ridiculous – Leif’s fur was far thicker than hers, and the fur on her side was still plastered to her shell with hemolymph.

“We’re just saying, most bugs don’t react like they’re being cuddled by a swarmmate when you give them a tiny bit of handling, especially not while they’re-“

“I said shut it, okay? How I’m doing is none of your business, and-“

“It might not be our business, but it is your teammate’s business, unless you were planning on never telling your teammates about anything.”

“My business is mine, and you’re not even part of the team-“

“And you were planning to bleed to death in a cave over asking your teammate to slow down so you can bandage your wounds.”

Vi’s mouth shut with a click, and she looked away from him. Leif tilted his head at her, waiting for a response.

A long moment passed.

Finally, Leif huffed, handing her over to Kabbu. “Fine, be that way, then.”

Kabbu silently plucked her out of Leif’s arms, feeling her melt into his carapace without another word. Her fur was surprisingly soft, even with the blood trickling down his claws as she shifted her weight. She didn’t say anything as he reached for their bag, pulling their medical kit out of the bottom.

He patched the wound in silence, Vi seemingly trying her best to ignore him as he tied the sturdy leaves over her shell. It was… gory, rough-edged and ragged, and every poke seemed to make it drip blood again. He had no clue how she’d managed to hide it for so long, let alone walk with it. She leaned into his touches, half the time, pressing the rough edges of the wound right into his claws and making her chitin grind against itself in a way that made him wince.

He had hardly taken three round of it before he broke.

"Vi, can you stop-"

"Stop doing what?"

"Stop leaning into my claws. It-"

"I'm not doing anything, okay? Just- keep going, and maybe you'll be done soon."

He gave an affirmative hum, and got back at it.

She kept leaning into his hands. He didn't know if she was even conscious of doing it- she'd lean, then pull back, on and on in a cycle as if she only just realized she was doing it after the fact.

He was just finishing the knot when she finally spoke, sounding like she was dragging the words out of her throat with a prybar.

“…Sorry,” she grumbled. “Just- I’ve had worse, okay? It’s not worth making a fuss over.”

“You’re soaking your fur with hemolymph,” Leif pointed out. “You weigh- what? Four ounces? You don’t have enough blood to spare for injuries like that.”

“I have plenty of blood, and I’ve had a lot worse, and you don’t have to go into this trouble over- over this.”

Leif looked like he was about to say something, but Kabbu darted in before he could escalate it further. “I know we don’t have to, but- we’re partners, Vi. We’re supposed to take care of each other. Don’t you…”

Kabbu trailed off, tying off her bandages. Vi turned her head away from him. “I can handle it. I don’t need you fussing over me every time I get a scratch in the field.”

Her side was a lot more than “a scratch”, but Kabbu kept that thought to himself. He brushed a claw over her back, testing the strength of the bindings, and Vi shivered. Kabbu stopped, holding still.

“Vi, are you-“

“Shut up, it’s fine, I’m- look, it’s embarrassing, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore, and-“

“Didn’t get held enough as a grub, did you?” Leif asked. Vi’s hackles rose, and Kabbu quickly pushed her down just in time to keep her from jumping at him.

“Shut up! You’re a moth, you don’t know shit about things-“

“We’ll take it that’s a yes, then.”

Vi growled under her breath, fluffing her fur. She was about to say something else, but Kabbu pressed her into the ground before she had the chance. “Now isn’t the time for a fight! Venus, you two, at least try to get along! We have a mission, remember?“

Leif stood still for a long moment, fur fluffed, hackles raised, and for a moment Kabbu thought he might have to mediate between them, or tear them apart from an attempt at a duel. Thankfully, Leif’s shoulders relaxed, tension bleeding from his form. “…fine,” Leif muttered. “We’ll try to get along for now. Don’t expect us to drop it, though.”

“Fuck you,” Vi hissed weakly from under Kabbu’s claws. Leif didn’t respond to her, simply wandering back to the other side of the cavern.

She had gone mostly limp, thankfully, all the fight drained out of her. Kabbu carefully released his claw, checking her bandages to make sure he hadn’t worsened her injuries.

He… needed to redo the bindings.

She seemed fine, thankfully. No worse than she was when he bandaged her, at least, though that was a low bar. He gave her a quick pet on the back after carefully plastering the bandages back into place, and she arched into it, grumbling.

Thank Venus that hadn’t escalated any further.

“I think we should make camp for tonight and have some rest before going deeper, all right, team?” Kabbu raised his voice so Leif could hear it, and saw the moth raise his head from the opposite end of the campsite.

“Sounds fine to us. We… could use some rest, before anything else happens.”

Vi grumbled, but didn’t protest. Kabbu went about the motions of preparing a campsite – scooping out nests for everyone, setting out the bedrolls, packing up the medical supplies for later. Vi settled down to watch, after a while, uncharacteristically silent.

Making camp was meditative, almost. The same set of steps nearly every time, it was easy to get lost in it until it was ready to sleep in. Leif settled down quickly enough, Vi staying balled-up into a lump of resentful bee, and Kabbu could almost forget the argument if he just… laid down and tried to sleep.

Hopefully, tomorrow would be less… stressful.

It had scarcely been fifteen minutes before Kabbu felt something tapping on his shell.

Kabbu pulled himself out of the space between sleep and wakefulness, head still full of fog. He looked up at the source of the tapping to see Vi, fur fluffed and hackles raised like she was about to face down a horrid beast.

Vi took a deep breath, and Kabbu’s half-asleep brain could hardly keep up with her before she spoke.

“…look, I’m sorry about- that, but I’m not weak, okay?”

Kabbu was sure his startled look must have shown on his face, because Vi plowed forward. “I mean it, I’m not- I don’t need help, I’m fine on my own, I don’t need a team to prop me up, because I-“

“No one is saying that you’re weak, Vi. Are you sure you’re-“

“I’m fine, and you don’t have to worry about me, and- look, you don’t have to treat me like a cripple, okay? I’ve worked with worse, and I don’t need your pity, because it’ll heal over anyways-“

“I’m not trying to treat you like an- an invalid, Vi! You’re injured, I thought-“

“I can handle it! I don’t need you to- to kiss it better, or whatever. I’m fine!”

Leif stirred in his nest, and Vi quieted down abruptly, shrinking in on herself. She abruptly looked much, much smaller than she had before.

“…Sorry.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, staring off to the side. “I’m- look, it’s just… frustrating. Okay? I don’t…”

Vi trailed off, shuffling her paws. Kabbu shifted to the side of his nest, easing his elytra open just enough to shield it.

“…It’s okay, Vi. I believe you.”

She grimaced, avoiding his gaze. Kabbu shuffled a bit further to the side, eying the bandages over her side. She looked…

“…do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

Vi startled back into motion, fur fluffing up as far as it would go. “What?-“ she started. before wincing as her voice echoed off the walls. She shook herself out, whisper-shouting at him. “Why would I want to-“

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, you just- you look like you need it.”

Vi looked like she was trying to decide if she wanted to be insulted or simply surprised at the offer.

“I understand if you don’t want to, I-“ Kabbu hastily added, but she cut him off.

“It’s fine, I just- if you want to, I guess.”

“If you don’t-“

“Just move over before I change my mind.”

Kabbu shifted to the side, opening his elytra to allow her passage. She nestled into his side, curling close enough that he swore he could feel her shape imprinted into his underbelly, worming her way into the space between his belly and the nest.

…there was more space for her than just there, but Kabbu felt like bringing it up would be- poor.

Slowly, he resettled on top of her, feeling her shift under him. She was startlingly warm, especially compared to Leif, a miniature heat pack against his shell. It was a welcomed addition against the cold of Snakemouth Den, and he found himself quickly drifting off to sleep.

Yes, tomorrow would be better.

Bugtober 2022 Prompt 20: Bad Ending

This is one of the worst endings of the Mothwasp AU that I could think of.

Team Snakemouth has been defeated. Kabbu, Vi, and Leif have all been brainwashed by Hoaxe, and have been commanded to capture Luna and Shigeko.

t….termite………

she’s pretty neat

Hey! I may have already asked this (I forgot) but can your write something on whumpee-turned-caretaker? Like whumpee has the flu, and gives it to caretaker, and whumpee takes care of them even though their still sick? How does caretaker react to being comforted and coddled when their usually doing the comforting? Thanks!!

Oh yes! Here you go!

(This...got out of hand. This is one of my favourite tropes too - I did this one a little different style wise than what I usually do, hope you enjoy!)

Day One:

B comes down with something bad, and fast. But they've always been stubborn, and refuse to stay in bed until A and C all but force them. Without B's help, C is busier than normal with chores around the house, so A does most of the caretaking. Which B rejects, of course. Even too weak to sit up without shaking, they struggle to do so whenever A brings them water or medicine, continuing to use there raspy voice out of sheer spite. A tries to be patient. They're not worried yet - B is tough, and they've been through far worse than this. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to see their friend ill.

***

Day Two:

Stubborn though they are, B can't deny they're feeling worse than yesterday. No more trying to drag themselves into the kitchen to make their own soup, no more sarcastic remarks whenever they're asked how they feel. This time A and C switch off; with A taking over chores and C spending much of their day at B's side. B's fever worsens as the day goes on, but no matter how much A asks if there's anything they can do, C insists they're handling it. Their protests become steadily more snappish as true worry for B sets in. Outside, it starts to snow.

***

Day Three:

B's coughing keeps both of them up. A knows, lying awake in their bed, that C is still with them, comforting them and caring for them, and guilt eats away at them. In the morning, C has dark shadows under their eyes and A's concerns about them only earn them a glare or two. They take over work around the house again, feeling like a caged animal as they go back and forth through the rooms, hearing B's cough and C's gentle murmurs of response. The snow that's climbed almost up to the windows doesn't help. In the evening, they catch C starting to nod off at B's bedside, and offer to take a shift looking after them. To their surprise, C relents, giving A a rare squeeze on the shoulder before they go. After an hour of sitting at B's side, trying to ease their raging fever, A is all but exhausted. B falls asleep eventually, and soon A can't help but follow curled up in their chair.

***

Day Four:

It hits C. They don't want to admit it, but overnight they're too sick to get out of bed, let alone tend to B. They try to anyway, but A refuses to let them. A spends the day taking care of both B and C, as well as dealing with the regular household chores. It's snowing again, making the little house feel like an icebox no matter how much wood they throw on the fire. And the woodpile itself is getting low, but when A digs themselves outside to chop more wood, the snow only piles up behind them and leaves them panicking for a minute - almost unable to get back inside. With the wood they lock themselves in, not daring to set foot out into the storm again. It takes a long time for life to come back into their stiff and frozen limbs. They're up late into the night before they're finally able to sleep themselves.

***

Day Five:

A drags themselves out of bed. They work themselves to the bone - their one solace being that none of their patients are hungry, and neither are they. Nevertheless, there's plenty of work to do even without preparing food. All the while the snow continues to build up outside. B is feeling better, but is still too weak to be out of bed for very long, and A won't allow them to get worse again. C sleeps through most of the day, and when they're awake they're miserable, no matter how much they try to hide it. They ask A for nothing, but it only worries A how much their normally sharp manner is gone. And how feeble their voice is when they do manage to speak. Despite their own sickness and exhaustion, C convinces A to go to bed early. By the time they make it to their room their head is swimming with tiredness, and no matter how much water they drink they can't seem to get rid of the dryness in their throat.

***

Day Six:

All day A feels like they can barely stay awake, like they never woke up in the first place. Their head spins and the floor rocks gently under them, as if they stand on the deck of a ship. No matter how many sweaters they pull over their head, they can't seem to get warm. B tries to get up and help them, but can do little more than shuffle tiredly around the house and A doesn't want them overexerting themselves. C is still exhausted and weak, and gives A instructions on how to be cared for even from their own sickbed. A carries them out no matter what, even when their own bones feel like they might crumble if they take another step. The whole world looks and feels like they're watching it from inside a fishbowl full of water, and though it pains them they have to ask C to repeat their instructions several times before they fully understand.

***

Day Seven:

All night A lies freezing and aching in their bed, unable to sleep for even a minute. In the morning they have to force themselves to get up, their head pounding and eyes sore in the too-bright light. A cough gnaws at their chest. But they have to take care of the others. To their surprise C is out of bed too, they're shaky on their feet but insist on helping out with some of the chores. B spends the day resting. Halfway through the day A finds themselves no longer able to stand, their knees suddenly turning to water and giving out under them. By the time they hit the floor, they've only just understood what's happening. In less than a minute a familiar figure is my their side, looking anxiously down at them. C, their eyes still ringed with exhaustion. A can't seem to form words. But C understands without any, helping them back to their feet with a gentle word and a steady hand on their back. On trembling legs and with their vision blurring they're hardly able to make it to their room. They do, though, C at their side the whole time. They're shaking all over by the time they're in bed, and when C tucks their blankets around their shoulders a wave of humiliating weakness overwhelms them and they start to cry uncontrollably. All those days of taking care of their friends without fail, hardly tiring, and now they're sick too. C shushes them, brushing the hair back from their face until their tears slow. They're so hot and so cold and their skin hurts, and they can't believe they're finally falling apart. Don't B and C still need them? Shouldn't they still be fighting? But they can't fight anymore. All the strength has gone out of them. They can't do anything more now than lie where they are and allow C to speak softly to them, the waves of their voice carrying them away into soft darkness.

***

Day ?:

They don't know how long they lie there, slipping in and out of a feverish sleep. Soon they're hot again, and have to toss away the blankets smothering them. They dream of scratching claws and flapping wings, of a scorching sun followed by icy cold water that drowns them. When they wake up they're gasping for air and freezing cold, drenched in sweat and shivering violently in their blankets. A hand brushes against their cheek and their teeth chatter so hard they're afraid they might break. C's voice shushes them gently, soothing words just at their edge of hearing. Another blanket is pulled over them, and something bitter slipped between their lips on a spoon. A thin, disturbed sleep takes them once again. When they next wake, their fever dreams dissipating in a mist, they think they're seeing ghosts at first. But after they flinch away from them, the smoky grey figures turn into something recognizable - the tired and worried faces of both B and C at their bedside. They try to sit up but the bed under them rocks and their arms turn to jelly, and soon two pairs of hands are pushing them back down to their pillow. Right away they try to protest, feeble words coming from them about how the other two are still recovering and should be careful, how they'll be all right, they just need a bit of rest, how it's their job to take care of everyone else - not the other way around. It's not long at all until they talk themselves into exhaustion. Embarrassing, unstoppable tears run from the corners of their eyes, knowing they've lost. B cracks a weak joke that would make them smile if they weren't so miserable. C lays a tender hand on their cheek, telling them they've done enough. More than enough. Telling them B an C are more than grateful, and couldn't have asked for better care. It's A's turn, now.

When you said vi is diagnosed with baby I just pictured bee getting smaller and smalller,gaining a lisp,etc, and leif and kabbu are distraught meanwhile vi is just really annoyed

when the teenager you lowkey adopted fucking just turns into baby

A silly comic.

When Jaune saw Vi’s scars, the team were worried that she would stop Vi from exploring. But fortunately she didn’t.

Part 1/?

Sociopath Profile: Mothiva

Species: silk moth (Bombyx mori or Bombyx mandarina) From the 2020 video game Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling

Mothiva here is one of the interesting occasions of having a heroic sociopath. She is firmly allied with the side of good and abhors the atrocities committed by the Wasp King (another sociopath). However, being a hero doesn't exactly mean that she's a selfless individual.

She is a popular celebrity with dozens of fans, but it's mostly a way of fueling her ego. The hero gig is something she does because she wants to have some recognition to be seen as the star she believes she is, not necessarily for the good of other bugs. All she wants from the expedition is fame and glory, and she's willing to hinder the other groups to get it for herself. The fact that she decides to attack Team Snakemouth and take their missions just because they were getting more popular than her.

This translates to a distinct lack of empathy for others. While she may project the idea that she loves all her fans and cares about her allies, she could not care less about them. If her partner Zasp gets knocked down in battle first, she'll reprimand him before reviving him without showing a bit of concern for his safety. It is noted that he does have affections for her, but she doesn't return them at all. Although she draws the line at Wasp King treating his forces like cannon fodder, she still isn't above using violence against her allies.

While she is an unpleasant person, Mothiva knows how to act around her adoring fans. She has a very superficial persona of the bubbly and caring celebrity who adores all her fans with all her heart. However, after Snakemouth discovers her true nature, it goes to show how calculated that persona was. And they were formerly fans of her until they experienced her true personality.

She also displays no remorse for any of this behavior. Eventually, she is on the receiving end of two beatings and losing the support of her fans in the Termite Kingdom. The problem is that she suffers no real consequences aside from that. In fact, she still has a wide following since knowledge of her crimes hasn't gotten out further. Chances are she has not learned much.

Mothiva may not be a criminal, but she's still rather sociopathic despite this.

Female Sociopath List

little prompt, where Peter and Tony having an argument about Tony may or may not be ill (he certainly is, but he'd better die than admit that).

“You probably should go to bed.”

“Why would I do that? I’m fine.”

“You haven’t stop coughing for twenty minutes already-”

“I started smoking.”

“-your hands are shaking-”

“My life is full of stress, honey, I can’t be perfectly stable all the time.”

“-I’m glad you admit it, but you seem to have a fever-”

“Your presence doing something unimaginable to my body.”

“Don’t be smart!”

“I’m afraid it’s not possible, love. Genius, remember?”

“Your eyes are glossy-”

“Because your accusations make me cry.”

“-you can hardly focus-”

“That’s bullshit.”

“-you’ve burned yourself twice today, that should count for something.”

“It counts for stress. Again, honey, I’m fine!”

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth so I can see your throat. Maybe you have angina.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“It’s very intimate!”

“So you have, like, no problem with sucking my dick, but you don’t want me to check up your throat when you’re ill.”

“I’m not ill, and that’s two totally different things.”

“How’s that?”

“Your dick doesn’t go deeper than my oral cavity.”

“Wow, you’re underestimating your blowjob skills.”

“You’re not going to look into my throat.”

“Jesus, why not?”

“Because I can infect you.”

“But you’re not ill.”

“Maybe I am!”

“Just let me see, and I will tell for sure.”

“And what, be ill too? That’s so much fun, being vegetables together!”

“I have super healing, dumbass. I can’t get ill. Now open your goddamn mouth and just let me see!”

“If you get infected, I will certainly say, "I told you so.””

“And I will punch you in the face.”

“Rude.”

“That’s what naughty boys get.”

“I wouldn’t mind being naughty for you.”

“You definitely have angina. For the next week, no naughty business.”

“What? I’m okay! You can’t do this to me.”

“I can, and I will. Every time you obey me, I will spank you.”

“We’re playing a doctor and a patient? I like that.”

“If you won’t get better in a few days, I bring you to the hospital.”

“You can’t do this with me.”

“I can, and I will. Now, shut up already and let me cook you some bouillon.”

“Such a cliché…”

“So are you.”

“Why I even love you?”

“Because I’m the only one able to tolerate your dramatic ass.”

“That’s overstatement.”

“People hate you when you’re ill.”

“I’m the pure charm.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You didn’t say “I love you” back.”

“I hate you.”

“Lier.”

“One more word – and you’ll have the web all over your face.”

“Sounds promising.”

…

“Can you cuddle me? My throat is sore. I think I caught a cold.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“You don’t love me.”

“I love you more than you can imagine, dumbass. Come here, I’ll hold you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

“You better, baby, you better.”

We don't talk about Wizeman

YES

18,01,2022

she’s got claws!

14,04,2022

friends

Zant is spending time with his zombie kids. ^^

Because everyone needs a fevered man curled up in a red blanket…

Another one for Tolga Sarıtaş from the Turkish series Söz episode 57.