#dizzyness

Whumptober 2025 - Day 12 - Dizziness

So I was wondering, could you write a fic where they are maybe talking about the logistics of their plan and what not and Dominick gets one of his attacks that he got in the fic that we were introduced to him and Melissa has to be the caretaker?

I'm so excited about this ask, thank you for sending it! I LOVE the arranged marriage/fake relationship becoming real too!!🙈💕

Too Late to Lie

"Are you sure about this one?"

Melissa rolled her eyes as Dominick paced the apartment Isaiah had offered her, his critical gaze making the whole thing almost funny.

"Yes."

"Look at how old the furniture is."

Actually, it wasn't half as old as anything she looked for on her own when she sought to rent an apartment for herself. This was in great condition, and the main advantage was, she could move right in.

"Isn't it too small?" Dominick continued, his steps echoing through the living room wooden floor.

"It's more than enough for me and Marcie," she assured him, throwing her loose straight red hair behind her shoulder. Then she stopped, when the idea hit her. "If you don't...do you want to move in too?"

Dominick froze in place, back to her. She could tell by how he rolled his shoulders he was fighting off a reaction he didn't want her to see.

As expected, he turned around wearing that confident smile and the same cheeky glint in his eyes. "It's not really my style."

From the moment the last creature fell, Xavier knew he had fucked it. As the monster hit the ground, he stumbled into the alley wall. His back hit it first and the wound he had received a few minutes earlier came back to bite him in the ass. Xavier groaned, forced to stand up straight as the cut bled through his shirt. 

He felt his exhaustion hit him full force, the weight of his overexertion now landing roughly on his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut at a dizzying wave of nausea, a hand resting on his belly. Xavier could feel his illusion fading, his horns, claws and wings flickering back for the world to see. He sucked in a breath as he tried to keep it up but another crash of nausea prevented it. 

Thankfully, the monsters he chose as his enemy were prone to fighting in dark places; so he found himself concealed by the tall, shadowy structures of two apartment blocks, shrouded by a dumpster. 

Xavier was not human, he tried to be for most of his life but he had been forced into his current way of life by his parents. They too weren’t human, creatures made to hunt out the lurking beasts of the human world, trying not to be hunted themselves by greedy scientists and capitalist scumbags. 

He had been doing this for at most 5 years now. He had gotten quite good at hunting out whatever he was tasked to kill, and do it efficiently without being caught. However, the side effects of his outings were physical repercussions including nausea, headaches, vertigo, the list goes on. This only happens when he had pushed himself too far, used his abilities too much to the point where he was seconds away from puking on his enemy rather than killing them. 

Crouched down behind the bin he hugged his stomach as it churned thickly, careful not to stretch his fresh cut on his back. The bastard thing was right under his left wing, so there was no way he was going to be able to use it for a few days. That was another downside, he took a few days to heal when he was this fucked up. So, he was regularly calling in sick for his human job as his body took its sweet time to patch itself up. 

He didn’t know why he still did this. 

His belly gurgled under his palm and he hiccuped, feeling his breakfast swirl and make its way up his throat. He fell onto his ass, hissing as it jostled his wings. Kicking his legs out to the front he gingerly leaned back against the dumpster, trying to calm his stomach enough for him to get home. Xavier’s head made a thump against the bin, staring at the clouds way above him. He breathed rhythmically through his nose and out his mouth, desperately using his foolproof technique to stop his inevitable sickness. 

The clouds moving were only increasing his dizziness however, so he chose to stare into nothing. He gently rubbed his belly, another hiccup wracking his frame. He groaned, it felt like his cut was tearing open wider the more he sat there, and the nausea was only getting worse. 

Pushing himself off the bin a little, he leant forward in between his legs. Now dead set on vomiting, his brain gave his stomach a big thumbs up and everything came up. His breakfast came up thickly, splattering on the concrete and blotching his pants with droplets of puke. He groaned, a sick burp beginning another gag and bringing up more of his stomach's contents. 

The floor swam beneath him and he planted a hand roughly on the ground beside him; right into a shard of shattered glass. He jerked away from it, his hand now dripping blood down his forearm. The sight of it set off his stomach, it gurgled angrily and he felt his shoulders roll aggressively with his heave. It aggravated the wound on his back, Xavier swore he felt more blood dripping down his back. 

After another burp and a hiccup, he sniffed and spat the last tendrils of spit to join the puddle between his legs. He moaned, vertigo making him sway forwards. He almost put his injured hand back on the ground but he forced his back to straighten and leant backwards; wanting the security of the bin behind him. He felt like shit. His entire body hurt like hell and his belly was still kicking up a fight, his right hand coming up to simply rest on his middle. 

Leah would absolutely murder him. 

Yeah, he has a girlfriend. She’s human, but she knows about his other work and his whole horns and wings thing. Every time he came home sick and injured, he would first get treated and cared for but as soon as she lured him into that false sense of security, the lecturing would start. 

He appreciated them, of course, but it happened every time without fail. She would say something about how he ‘needed to take better care of himself’ and that he ‘should know his limits by now’. Thinking about her made him smile at least, even though he was feeling like the epitome of a squashed bug on someone’s front tire. 

He should probably start moving if he wanted to get home by dark, the sunset already starting her orange painting of the sky, even though moving was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d have to apply his illusion again, which would only make him feel more sick, and then walk home or hitch a ride. 

Maybe dying behind this dumpster was the better option. 

No, he had Leah to get home to. So, with all of his remaining energy, he pushed himself off the ground, avoiding his vomit and trying to stand without toppling right back over. His wings flapped instinctually, it kept him upright but it hurt like a bitch. He moaned and put his hand on the bin, breathing deeply through his nose. His stomach ached, now his muscles were joining the party, as well as his head that pounded with every beat of his heart. 

His belly gurgled in warning and his eyes widened, please not right now, he prayed. He felt it lurch and a burp slipped past his lips, he covered his mouth with a hand and tried to swallow the wave. With his beautiful luck, it didn’t work and he found himself doubled over and creating a new puddle of sick right next to his old one. He braced his arm on the dumpster, desperately trying not to fall over completely. He probably looked a sight. If anyone just happened to turn their heads they would see what looked like an alcoholic but then they would see the wings and horns and run for the hills shouting for police. 

Xavier’s mind wouldn’t shut up as he purged his insides more. His overthinking only made his head spin more, making his legs wobble and his arm almost slipped off the bin lid. He groaned out of frustration now, all he wanted was to get out of this fucking alley and get home. 

Another grumble from his belly and he forced himself to be done. He straightened up and cleared his throat, coughing up the last bits stuck in his throat, and took a few wobbly steps forward. His shaky legs only took him a few metres when he felt his whole body give up, the wall suddenly appearing much closer to his face and another painful spike of his head caused his vision to blacken. Xavier moaned, wishing he had the ability to fucking teleport. 

He didn’t see the figure approaching him from the street. Xavier’s panic neurons weren’t firing as his horns and wings were on full display. He was simply unable to hide them, too sick and tired and hurt to even bring up the energy needed to activate his illusion. If he was lucky they wouldn’t say anything. He wasn’t the only hybrid in the world, maybe this person was a sane individual who didn’t see him as a monster. 

“Are you alright, young man?” The voice sounded older. Shit, you can never know with old people. 

He didn’t even have the spirit to talk, a strangled moan making its way out instead. 

They got closer, “I’m not gonna call the police if you’re worried. I’m a bit nervous for ya, s’all. You don’t look so good.” It was a woman, and she sounded like she wanted to help. He let out a puff of air, pulling himself up a smidge on the wall. 

He cleared his throat, “Can you take me home?” His voice slurred, and he didn’t waste any time in asking her. He just needed to lie down. 

She stepped into his vision and he finally caught sight of her. She even looked kind, glasses and a little hat, Xavier felt like jumping into her arms and demanding a bedtime story. Thankfully, after he asked she quickly ran to bring her car around. He crouched down while he waited, just trying to stave off the next vomiting spell. His belly was still unsettled, but he was able to hold it off the entire trip back to his house and all the way to his door. 

After he opened the door though, he had to run to the bathroom to empty his stomach again. His illusion blinked off and his wings almost smacked Leah in the face as she came into the bathroom. Xavier could barely register her touch as she was so gentle with him, she must have seen the blood stain on his shirt and no doubt the blood all over his hand. 

His stomach heaved and he lost his breath, he coughed and finally the last gush splashed into the water. Xavier groaned, dropping his head onto the rim of the toilet seat. 

“Pretty bad tonight, babe.” Leah said. Xavier felt almost instantly relaxed. Funny how someone you love can do that to you. He nodded, groaning into his arm. As he sat up, Leah was already rifling through the bathroom cabinet for bandages and medicine. Xavier felt a bit guilty that he came home injured, but Leah never wavered or complained. He always tried to make sure he listened when she did express her concerns, seeing her boyfriend battered and bloody was probably not very good for her mental health. 

He maneuvered his legs into a more comfortable position and let Leah start tending to his wounds. 

“How did you get home?” 

“Some nice old lady gave me a lift.” 

Leah nodded, focusing on the cut on his hand. He watched her work, letting the exhaustion finally take over and his wings droop fully. He stayed quiet in case Leah wanted to speak. 

However, the two sat in comfortable silence. Xavier breathing evened out, getting deeper as he was taken care of, and Leah silent as she concentrated. When she got to his back, he kept flinching and she had to hold his shoulder to stop him from moving. 

“Xavier, stop moving, you'll make it worse.” She was laughing a little now. 

Xavier tried to move again, whining, “But it hurts.” 

Leah laughed, “Alright, you big baby. Just a few more seconds and you can lie down.” 

He stopped complaining and more than a few seconds later, she was done and helped him off the ground. He swayed and Leah grabbed his forearms, looking up into his eyes. They were squeezed shut so she couldn’t look at his purple iris’, her favourite feature. She touched his cheek, 

“Hey, Xavier, let's get you into bed.” 

He opened his eyes, they were red rimmed and exhausted. She smiled sadly at him, leaning up to give a small kiss on the nose. Xavier’s cheeks flushed, avoiding eye contact. Leah pulled him to the bedroom, piling up some pillows and letting him get settled. 

This had happened so much, Leah had prepared a kit for when Xavier came home sick. A bucket full of a thermometer, medicine, a rag and a towel. She emptied it and put the bucket on the ground beside him, and shoved the thermometer in his mouth. 

“I love you.” Xavier sleepily mumbled, eyes closed and one hand resting on his middle. She reached out to touch his belly, feeling little grumbles. He sighed happily. 

“Do you want a wet rag on your forehead for the headache?” 

Xavier opened his eyes, “How did you know?” 

Leah took the thermometer out and shrugged, “You have that face.” 

Xavier closed his eyes again. He felt amazing now that he was lying down. Soon he’d have a cold rag and Leah would probably rub his belly as he slept. His back didn’t even hurt lying down. He was happy to start feeling better. 

Leah returned, gently placing the rag on his head and climbing into the bed behind him. She snuggled up close, smoothing his crooked feathers and kissing his warm cheek. She watched as he smiled, finally letting himself sleep. The bruises and cuts were healing and Leah was content to nurse him back to health. 

The lecture would come once he woke up. 

—

Hell yeah  👀 Thank you!

trying to hide an injury (kinda) + see tags

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“Let me look, Jaskier.”

They’re both watching him, like he’s going to break any second. Vultures, the both of them.

“No. No, it’s fine. Honestly, Geralt."

“Bard, come on, you’re trembling. Your hands should get looked at, and that shoulder... Don’t be an ass.” Yennefer sounds incredulous and frustrated. But she tugs at his sleeve, probably harder than intented, eyes fluttering down and sucking in her lower lip. She’s frowning, very hard. 

“Fuck off, you two. Like I said. It’s- It’s fine.”

But his heart is pumping very hard in his chest and he might pass out any second. Shit. Fuck all of this. A hurting body is not at all preferable and should be made un-hurt. Theoretically, he knows this. Theoretically, he knows a lot of things. 

“Jaskier?” 

Geralt can actually sound very worried. Huh. 

“Jaskier, you..you should sit the fuck down.”

Yennefer too, apparently. 

He presses his eyes shut and swallows, because the wave of dizzyness brings nausea with it. 

“Y-yes. I should.” 

Two sets of hands grab him gently by the arms.

Vestibular disorders lecture.

I’m new to this side of the internet- but I do have a question for others who are chronically I’ll with some form of Orthostatic intolerance:

- have you faced a misdiagnosis regarding your specified OI (ex: possibly misdiagnosed with Ortho. hypotension, but really have POTS, visa versa), if so- how were you able to obtain a correct diagnosis, and what was the process of receiving that diagnosis?

When I was diagnosed with chronic Orthostatic hypotension, my doctors ran EKGs, ultrasounds, and tracked my heart rate. BUT, when I would have a heightened bpm (especially during episodes), they ignored that. **note: the last flare that I had with my watch on, I had a resting rate of 140bpm(I had been sitting for about 10 minutes at a time**

I’ve tried to have them reevaluate me- but they feel content with the answers and say that regardless there is nothing I can do other than up my sodium and iron intake.