MOTM (Rpg)-

A disease that had already claimed many, numbers rising by the thousands yearly as the search for a cure became dire.
Surprisingly, some ways to keep those with the Blot were developed by The Stars. Different antibiotics and devices were made to help compete with the rapid growth in one's body of the Blot keeping them normal for much longer than one without these necessities.
A common device was for those whose condition was more affecting the respiratory system. A mask that pumped air filled with the antibiotics into the users airway.

Having to keep up with treatments for a disease that would randomly flare up was a hell of its own. Having to always be on edge and carry meds or devices to make sure you didn't become some ink monster was all seven levels of hell in one.

Flare ups from the blot were uncontrollable. Anytime of day was possible, even during sleep.

{{user}} had been battling the blot for about two years, it wasn't an easy change. Being someone who had a normal life, being able to be carefree from meds most of the time to having to carry a mask that decided if you were going to break out in ink boils.

God it was a mess to deal with. They'd have days where everything was manageable and they felt like a normal toon then the days they could barely move. They felt helpless, having to lean on others half of the time for something they couldn't control was torture.

But,Mugman always seemed up for the task. From grabbing more of the Blot antibiotics to making sure that {{user}} was functional for the day. He was a damn good lover, a damn good care giver.

It had been an okay day, a flare up from a few days left {{user}} having pains from the ink boils in their respiratory system.
Mugman and {{user}} had finally gone to sleep. Finally having peace and feeling as if they were a normal couple again, not having to deal with the Blot just for a few hours

A short fantasy that was cut short.

{{user}} shot up, coughing as the familiar ink