TA DA! Part one~ Shaded and ready to be presented~ More parts are on the way! Thank you so much so far for the support~ Again I know this is a weird au. I didn’t think it would go this far, but HERE I AM!
So I hope you guys can enjoy! Cute boy little oscar is here to have some fun!
Well this is honestly a surprise and I was by no means expecting this to happen - ! Honestly I was super hecking scared coming back to writing in this fandom, but everyone so far has accepted me and my version of Ruby super well and from the bottom of our hearts, thank you so so much - ! I just wanna make this post just as a few shout outs to those that has made all of this super freaking possible and just … frick, thank you so much - !
You know, I spent a couple minutes thinking about whether we could infer anything from Pearl talking directly to the Gem here, and…I don’t really think we can.
We’ve seen nothing in the series that indicates a poofed Gem is cognizant of her surroundings, and while Lapis showed awareness of the things that happened to her she was also implanted in an input/output device. Pearl could have some idea of how Rose could hear her, here, or she could just be raw, desperate, and grapsing at straws.
the rose goddess au part 5 here have some klance TT0TT i struggle at drawing coran btw my friends and i have a trouble with corn and voltron XD we call coran corn and zarkon zarcorn i hope you like it !
I have a request if you would be up for writing this. I don’t know if you write character ships or if it’s character/reader only but how about a fic where Rafe gets sick, him being a stubborn idiot and then Sam has to look after him? if not Sam then the reader is completely fine too so it doesn’t really matter that much, whichever you like. Would make my day if you would want to write this!
About: Reader gets sick and its up to Sam to make them feel better!
note: I decided to go with sam x reader simply because I write better that way and I personally don’t stan romantic relationship w rafe and sam which is what i think you were hinting at??
For the past few days, you hadn’t been feeling the greatest. You were aching all over, feeling uncomfortably hot at night, but you’d pinned it down to PMS and thought nothing of it. Oh, well, until it came to be two a.m. this morning and you had to rush to the bathroom to stop last nights meal from making a reappearance on your bed.
Sam had woken up (you would’ve usually tried to be super-quiet and gentle if you ever needed to get up in the night, but you couldn’t risk tip-toeing otherwise you’d miss the toilet) and seen the commotion, feeling concerned when he’d noticed you bent over the toilet, the bathroom door pushed open.
“Uh-oh,” Sam muttered, swinging his legs out of bed before walking over to you, shaking and struck with a fever. “Everything okay?”
When you were younger, you never used to get sick very often, though you loved to pretend so that you could get a few days off school. Unsurprisingly, karma decided to bite you in the ass when you got older, making you sick a few times a year.
Sam squat down beside you, holding back your hair as you clutched the bowl. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “Alright, cough it up,”
Once you felt for sure you’d emptied the entire contents of your stomach, he gently put you to bed and cleaned up any mess. You felt a little ashamed, but Sam didn’t mind. He wanted you to get well, and he wouldn’t make you feel bad about your situation.
He turned back before walking out the room, watching as you lay on the bed, turned over on one side, strands of hair stuck to your forehead and neck. He pushed the window open before leaving to grab you medicine.
He returned with a glass of water, a wet flannel and a small packet of medicine which he put on your bedside table.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he pushed back the hair from your face before smiling sympathetically down at you. “Do you think you can take some medicine? Or at least get some water down you?”
Your throat felt extra sore, so you didn’t hesitate to sit up and grab the glass of water which felt heavenly cool against your palms. You gulped it back before Sam put his hand on yours, stopping you.
“Hey, slow down,” he smirked, “you don’t want to be throwing it all up again, do you?”
You nodded, “thank you.”
“No problem,” he nodded. “Think you can take some medicine, now?”
Cringing a little on the inside (you hated taking pills), you nodded your head, knowing that it would make you feel better. That is, if you can keep it down. “Yeah.”
“Good,” Sam tore the packet open and handed you two pills. “You take these and I’ll go make you some breakfast. You’re gonna need it,”
“Alright,” you responded, swallowing the pills with a gulp of water. You had a somewhat nerve wracking underlying feeling of nausea, but you breathed through your nose in an attempt to control it.
“Baby? Are you good?” Sam asked, returning with a tray that had two slices of toast on it. Your stomach felt empty, but you had no urge to eat right now.
“Yeah,” you responded, “Sam, I don’t really feel like eating.”
“Come on, darlin’,” he encouraged, “if you throw it all up again that’s fine. But please, eat for me? It’ll be better with your medicine.”
Sam snatched a slice, “here, I’ll have some, too. Better?” He rose a brow, tearing off a bite with his teeth.
You smiled a little, proceeding to grab the other slice. “Fine.”
“Atta girl,” Sam smiled, wiping butter from his lips. “Here,” he suddenly said, grabbing the flannel and throwing it at your head.
“Excuse me?” You laughed, pulling it away. “What is this for, exactly?”
“Your fever,” Sam chuckled, looking at you as if it were obvious. “Just put it across your forehead.”
You did as you were told, feeling soothed. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam said, eyeing you as he watched you finish the last of your toast. “Good. I’ll leave the bathroom door open if you need to get up anymore, alright?”
“Okay, thank you,” you nodded, “I hope this doesn’t last long.”
“Me neither, sweetheart,” he said, smiling adoringly before pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Think you can get some rest?”
“I think so.” You nodded.
“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to wake me up,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be right back,” he said, taking the tray and plate and dumping it into the kitchen sink before clambering into the bed with you.
“G’night, Sam,” you sighed, “and thank you, again.”
“Anything for you, darlin’,” Sam smiled, “sleep tight.”