Phighting stuff, idk, lol

Soupspace

MORE BANSPACE
Soup space is a joke I made/started when I first started playing phighting and kept typing subspace as subsoace, people then said 'soupspace'
But now it's sick Subspace.
Also more Subspace POV because I breathe him at this point, poison and all

SlightVomitWarning

+Subspace+
Subspace might have been working a tad too much.
He'd been feeling significantly more achy than normal. Which, sure, he was used to from when the rot still ravaged his body- but he'd gotten rid of that. So it surprised him.
At first he thought the rot had somehow returned, but no, he was perfectly fine,if anything the scars just looking paler.
So he did the sensible thing and returned to his work. Which was reprogramming and fixing the Omegagraft models.
Subspace was actually really tired. His work was important, and, in his eye, more important than sleep.
Even three sleepless nights couldn't stop him. He was too great to feel tired.
Naturally, he kept working.

At some point, he pauses in his working when there's a knock at his lab door- the other scientist and associates should know not to bother him- why was someone knocking- who was knocking? He sighs, setting down the stupidly bulky head of the Betagraft model, grumbling under his breath as he went to open the door, prepared to either slam it if it was Hyperlaser, hopefully poison someone if it was a lower rank, aswell as act painfully polite if it were a higher up- not that there were many, even less who bothered with him. Which he didn't understand- he was amazing.
To his surprise, it was a very familiar warden. Whose presence he didn't register until he had already started getting annoyed at them. "What could you possibly want?? I'm busy!—"
He cuts off when he realizes it was Ban Hammer. Who looked amused. In a smug way. Subspace guessed that if he could see the demigod's eyes, they would looking down on him with the stupid sparkly they always had whenever the warden looked at him.
"I want a visit, with how much ya' work, m' pretty sure you can take a break, Sub'." Ban Hammer hums, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the lab.
"I- No!- I don't want to!—"
"You feelin' okay?-"
The question confused him. Of course he was feeling okay!- and it's not like Ban Hammer would be able to tell he was sore. The wardens perception with his blindfold wasn't that good. "Obviously!" He huffs, walking back to his desk to sweep some paperwork into a pile. Setting the Omegagraft model's head ontop to act as a paperweight. Knowing there was a slim chance Ban Hammer would even let him return to his work. "Why??"
"Cuz' your voice sounds rougher th'n normal"
Subspace stares at him for a moment. "My voice sounds perfectly normal-"
"Nah, normally ya' sound all squeaky and adorable, now your jus' all rough."
"What-?"
The warden shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe you're sick?"
Subspace scoffs at the suggestion. "I doubt it!! I keep myself on tip-top shape! Sleep aside-."
Ban Hammer sighs before walking forwards, catching hold on Subspace's forearm when he tries to step back, holding the scientist still while he pressed his feet hand to Subspace's forehead, nodding after a moment.
"You're sick."
"I am not!—"
"You are" Without another word, he hoists Subspace into his arms, Subspace's yelped protests falling on normally sharp but now deaf ears.
Subspace struggles despite knowing full well that he wasn't gonna be put down till he was home. But still. This was Blackrock— He'd really rather not be seen being carried. Oh. And he was still sore, which just helped the process of slowing his struggles. "Bannn, this is embarrassing—" He hisses, mist venting out of his mask; his claws were sunk firmly into the demigod's arms. Although apparently Ban Hammer didn't feel pain because he barely even reacted. He sort of wanted to test that theory- if Ban Hammer felt pain as much as other Phighters did.
While caught up in his own world. He was already completely oblivious to Ban Hammer walking into his house, only FALLIMG out of the haze when the warden speaks.
"Mind removin' your claws from my arm?-"
Subspace blinks. "Wha- oh. Yeah- fine. But you better put me down!"
Ban Hammer just nods, setting Subspace down on the bed and pushing him headfirst into the pillow none too lightly. "Good. Now rest."
Subspace opens his mouth to snap something. But also, he felt cold, and the blankets were warm. And he had a migraine— when had the migraine even started—? "...fine.." he mumbles, slowly feeling his built up exhaustion (I SPELT IT RIGHT HAHA) catch up to him.
He unclasps his mask, setting it on the bedside table before practically passing out, the last thing he heard just being.
"Night, Sub'." From Ban Hammer along with the soothing feeling of claws running through his hair.

He drifted in between sleep and wakefulness. Occasionally Ban Hammer would be there, other times he would be gods know where, although likely still in the house.
He still felt cold. It was annoying. The blankets were nice though, fluffier than usual, or at least that's what his addled mind thought.
At some point, maybe his sixth time switching into wakefulness, he started to roll over when he winced, His stomach was boiling. After a moment, he realizes the feeling, quickly getting out from the sweet comfort of the blankets and darting to the bathroom, flipping the toilet lid open before puking.
For a solid moment.
Fuck that hurt his throat-
Eventually, after it had coursed through emptying his stomach, then stomach acid, until he finally finished dry retching, he pulled back with a weak hiss, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, dully noticing the pink tint. Aswell as the pink tint in the mess he had just forcefully coughed up into the toilet. His poison, he assumed. Which was funny saying as he didn't remember testing his poison at all today.
"You doing okay—?" Ban Hammer asks, appearing behind him, kneeling down to gently pull Subspace into his hold.
"Nmhh-... I- feel like shit—" He responds. Lightheaded, a headache, and feeling weak really didn't mix together, did they? Oh well. He'd put up with it.
"Seeing as ya' just puked, I'd say that's normal"
Subspace notes use of the word, already shifting to look up at Ban Hammer, noticing the warden"s blindfold was off. "—your blindfold-?"
"I'm making soup, can't really cook with a blindfold on now can I?"
Subspace nods, eventually standing up, albeit shakily. "I-I'm gonna go rest again"
Ban Hammer helps Subspace up, walking with him to the bed and tucking him in. (I LOVE THEM.) "Soup should be ready by the time ya' wake up again." He hums, checking Subspace's forehead again before walking back out of the room.
(Small time skip. Soup.)
Subspace stares at the bowl before him. It was your classic homemade soup— chicken noodle —he just- was perplexed, and still a bit groggy. "I- don't think I'll be able to taste this—"
The demigod shrugs, flashing him a grin. "So? Momma' always made it for me when  I was younger!"
Subspace just nods, deciding to eat the soup. It'd help, probably. Besides, the warmth of it was nice. And he liked making Ban Hammer happy.
(Time skip p2 bc it's ending soon <: )
Subspace watched as Ban Hammer picked up both his and his own bowl, setting both in the sink. "Hey, Ban'?"
"Hm?"
"Mind staying the night?"
The warden raises an eyebrow but grins. "Sure. I like the ida of watchin' over ya'."
Subspace gives a half-purr, the noise raspy from the fact his throat was probably still raw from puking. "Thanks.."
"Now let's get you back t' bed. Rest is impor'ant"
Subspace hums a response, following the demigod to his room. "I demand cuddles"
"Then cuddles you will get, as long as ya' rest."
"Agreed!"

Word Count: 1344
LIVE LAUGH LOVE BANSPACE
I am so obsessed with this ship, I need help :p