#Chronically ill reader

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[callsign-rogueone]

defective

Bodhi Durran x reader, Brennan Sorrengail & reader words: 1.7k 🏷️: did somebody say more chronically ill reader? with sweet baby Bodhi this time, and reader with a heart condition. negativity about illness / reader thinking they’re weak, others calling them weak / defective / etc., but not Bodhi or Brennan (they would never.) Brennan makes an appearance as an older brother figure, reader is referred to as she/her and a girl by members of the assembly but not by Bodhi. I think cuddling Bodhi would cure me of all my ills. I got the idea for this the other day when I went up stairs carrying a laundry basket and almost fainted. I would not make it up to the parapet, let alone be able to cross it lmao. anyway, here, have this. already plotting a part two of them reuniting after Resson 🥺

The assembly are too busy arguing to notice you standing in the doorway — arguing about you, you realize quickly.

“We can’t send her to her death.”

“We’ve been forced to send 15 to their potential deaths so far, with 92 more to go. Why is she any different from the rest?”

“You know damn well why, Ulices,” Brennan snaps. “Everyone else has a fighting chance, but there’s no way she’s going to survive the parapet, let alone the rest of the year.”

“There’s 250 steps up to the parapet. She won’t even make it to the top,” another voice adds.

“There’s still time to fix that. They don’t leave for another three months.”

“You can’t fix her,” Trissa says firmly. “No amount of  time in the gym will change the fact that she’s defective. She’ll never be able to do the things that the others can. She’s too weak.”

The word echoes in your ears. Defective. 

Your gaze falls to the empty chair — Xaden’s chair. What would he say if he was here? Would he let them call you weak? What would he say? Maybe it’s for the best that you don’t know. It would only hurt you to hear that the boy you’ve always idolized and regarded as an older brother call you weak and pathetic.

“So what would you have us do?” Felix asks.

“Either we send her with the rest, knowing her name will be at the top of the death roll on conscription day, and her blood will coat our hands forever, or we tell Navarre that she died, and keep her here. It should be believable enough that the weakling girl with the heart problem died young. It’s a miracle she hasn’t died already.”

Tears blur your vision, and you bring a hand up to swipe them away with your sleeve. The whisper of the fabric moving is enough to give you away; five heads turn toward the door, seeing you standing there.

Something compels you to run away — likely the fact that you’d been caught eavesdropping by the entire assembly. These meetings aren’t secret, but there’s an unwritten rule that the kids aren’t invited, especially if it isn’t a routine meeting.

Brennan calls your name, but you ignore him, moving faster, intent on getting back to the room you’ve been sleeping in and shutting the door in his face so you can cry alone in peace.

He catches up with you quickly, his strides longer and his movements faster. He lays a gentle hand on your arm. “Hey,” he coaxes. 

You stop and turn toward him, knowing that you can’t run again — he’s faster than you, and moving would also be a very bad idea right now; you feel like you’re going to fall over.

“I’m so sorry, kid.”

“Not your fault,” you rasp, fumbling for the wall and pressing your hand into it to support yourself. 

“Hold on to me,” he instructs. “Can I check your pulse?”

You nod, regretting the motion when it makes your head spin faster, and wrap your hand around his forearm, using him as an anchor to hold yourself up.

“Attagirl. Keep breathing.”

You work on deepening your breaths, filling your lungs all the way before you exhale, like he’d taught you last year.

Hot, frustrated tears slip down your cheeks. 

They’re right. You are defective. You can’t even run down a hallway without your body giving up on you. You wouldn’t be able to get up to the parapet, let alone cross it after that exertion — you can hardly stand right now. 

“Talk to me,” he asks after a moment. 

“I don’t want to go,” you say softly, “but to stay here, and let all my friends go where I can’t ever see them or help them, knowing they could die any day…”

“I know. I felt the same way when my sister started, but she’s a full fledged Captain now. Commands her own unit in Montserrat,” he says quietly, but it sounds like it pains him to say it — to tell you that she’s on the other side of the fight. “They’re all strong, they’ll make it through. And they’ll have each other to lean on.”

You nod again, and this time it doesn’t make you dizzy. “Yeah,” you say hollowly. “They’re strong.”

He immediately knows what you’re getting at. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re just at too much of a disadvantage to risk it. Your strengths lie elsewhere— not in the physical.”

“If only we could be scribes,” you sigh.

“If only,” he says softly. “My youngest sister is going to start in the scribe’s quadrant the year after this. She’s a lot like you, actually. She was born with an issue with her bones. She’s got a heart of gold, though. And she’s incredibly smart, like you. I think you’d get along well.”

“If it wasn’t for this, yeah,” you say quietly, looking down at your relic. 

He tries to hide his wince, but it doesn’t quite work. “I think she’d come around once she realized how great you are.”

“Whatever they decide, can you be the one to tell me? Alone?” you ask in a small voice. “I don’t want to see the looks on their faces. I know I’m an embarrassment to them, but I don’t want to be reminded of it.”

“You aren’t an embarrassment,” he chides softly. “But of course. I can tell you when they make their decision.”

“Thank you.”

He opens his arms to you. “C’mere, kid.” 

You step forward, letting him guide you into a gentle embrace. 

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask into his shoulder.

“For surviving. For not giving up. For dealing with your symptoms every day and not letting it break you. For so many things. You’re amazing.”

“I don’t feel amazing.” 

“That’s okay. I hope you will someday, though.”

“Someday,” you agree softly.

“Alright. Let’s get you back to your room.”

You nod, keeping a hand on his arm while he walks with you. He’s slowed his steps to match yours, but he doesn’t show any sign of impatience.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“Of course, sweet girl. Get some rest. Bodhi should be back in a few hours.”

Your cheeks warm as you realize that Brennan knows about whatever you two have going on — you don’t call yourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’re very close, and there’s definitely a spark there. 

He drops a kiss to the top of your head, waiting to make sure you’re safely inside your room before he heads back down the hall. 

———————

Bodhi shows up around sunset, his hair damp from the showers. He sits beside you on the edge of your bed, leaning back against the pillows. “Hi, lovie.”

“Hi.”

He tilts your chin up with a gentle movement of his knuckle, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to Basgiath,” you admit quietly.

“What?”

“The assembly decided that I’m too weak to even make it up the stairs to the parapet,” you answer, your voice wavering. “They’re going to tell Navarre that I died, because of my heart problem.”

Why are you crying again? You went over all this with Brennan already and got it out of your system — but evidently not.

Bodhi looks conflicted. You watch the gears turn, and see him weigh the good and the bad. You won’t have to endure everything riders are put through, and the assembly is right, you wouldn’t survive it. But to stay here while everyone else risks their lives, with no way to communicate with them, would be crushing. And if you’re found out, Xaden’s life will end along with yours.

He gathers you up into his lap, holding you close. He smells good, clean — soap and the tiniest bit of cologne, something warm and woody. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“I am too,” you sniff. “I wish I could be there with you, but…”

“It’s for the best,” he says gently. “I’d rather you be here, safe with Bren and the elders, than overworking yourself every day, and making things worse.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I still feel guilty about it, though.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just how you were made. And you know it doesn’t change the way that any of us feel about you. We all love you so much, because you’re you, and you’re our friend.”

“Love you too,” you sniff. “M’ gonna miss you so much.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m going to miss you too, every day. But I promise I’ll write — I know first years can’t send letters, but I’ll ask Xaden or Gare to send it for me. They’ll probably have to sign their names on it, and address it to someone else, but you’ll know it’s from me by the handwriting.”

That makes you feel a little better, but you’re still worried. “But when you graduate, and move across the continent…”

“Then I’ll come visit you here, as often as I can. Maybe I’ll be closeby. Or maybe Tyrrendor will be freed by then.”

“Maybe,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to think for even a second that this means I’m letting go of you,” he says firmly. “You’re stuck with me, even if we’re apart, okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly. 

“Good. Now, I have had a very long day of having my ass kicked by Imogen, and I’d like to spend the rest of it laying here with my favorite person.”

You’re his favorite person? You must be looking at him in disbelief, because he laughs lightly, his chest shaking against yours. “Yes, you. I thought it was obvious. You’re the one I spend all my time with.”

“You’re my favorite person too,” you say softly. 

He smiles. “I’m glad we sorted that out. Get comfy.”

You scoot off of his lap, settling down on the mattress. He slots himself in beside you, letting you work your way under his arm to rest your head on his chest. He’s put on a considerable amount of muscle in the last few months, and it’s so nice to rest your body against his like this, a strong arm keeping you in place as he reaches toward the foot of the bed for a blanket to drape over the both of you. 

You hum sleepily, content to rest in the warmth of his body and the softness of the blanket.

“This good?”

“Perfect,” you murmur. 

“Perfect indeed,” he agrees softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, resting his thumb over your pulse point. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“G’night, Bo.”

[fuzedatti]

am's interaction with a chronically ill, sick and disabled favorite human of his? one so plagued with their own natural suffering that his barely fazes them.

AM with a disabled/chronically ill favorite human.

// cw hospital mention, AM being AM //

Ah, I have been waiting for this kind of ask for a while.

AM despises humans with all of his hollow soul. He wishes he could move freely, dance without pain, love without consequences.

And he finds you. You, the sick, the fallen, the blind and the ill, are different from the others; AM can't even comprehend how a human, who is supposed to be capable of anything, is in so much pain of its own. AM understands, and he grows fond of you.

The supercomputer begans to care about you. He no longers inflicts pain on you, preferring to isolate you from the others and force you to talk about... you.

AM is a strange being. He doesn't force you into these interrogations just "because", he wants to learn about you, he wants to help you. Either way it hurts you, its not easy to talk about your disabilities/illnes with your tormentor, who knows what kind of unspeakable horrors he will apply to you with said information.

Yet, when you finally open up and talk about it, he becomes very caring to you and only you. AM brings you meds to aid your pain, he lets you have decent mobility aids, he even constructed a special, secret room for when your body just can't go any longer; its like a mini hospital where you can rest.

AM knows that you are not the biggest fan of hospitals, but thats just part of his "love". At the end, he wants you to know that he sees you as an equal regarding pain. AM understands how infuriating it is to only wish to do things others can do so easily.

He couldn't visualize himself in love. How can someone love him with his horrid scars, old eyes & ears, broken legs and curved back. But you, oh you adored every bit, every line of his skin. Because you and him shared the pain no one else could knew in the end of the world.

For a moment, AM was loved, and so were you.

[bugs1nmybrain]

First of all, love your writing! I especially love reading your headcanons 😁

Would it be alright to ask for headcanons on how Stein would be with a S/O that’s chronically ill/has a weak immune system? Like winters for them are hell because they know they’re gonna catch a cold come September and coughing fits, doctors visits and medication refills are just apart of their daily routine(may or may not be speaking from experience TTwTT)

🤍⚡️Franken Stein (Soul Eater) x Immuno-compromised Reader 🔩 🩺

I haven't written for Stein in forever!!! I hope I write this with sensitivity! I'll research a bit on it to make sure I write this as accurate as I can.

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, sfw, chronically ill reader, not proofread yet

Mister Doctor man is on the case!

If you don't tell him upfront that you have a weak immune system, he'll notice quick that you seem to be constantly under the weather

Will pry about it, and ask you if this is regular for you

When you tell him that you're chronically ill, it isn't a surprise. He'll help

Stein is proficient in most areas of medical care, so he'll make sure your medications are constantly available to you and even offer to be your personal domestic doctor. You'll tell him it's a conflict of interest as a joke, but he insists

He knows how to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be, making sure you're properly nourished and getting meals that incorporate a proper amount of vitamins

It isn't exactly a cure, but it helps

If you're feel especially sick, he encourages rest. If you need doctors' notes for work or college or the like, he's on it.

He doesn't treat you like you're made of glass or anything because he knows better, but he's definitely vigilant of your symptoms and reminds you to make sure you're taking your medicine and taking it easy if you're having a hard time

Coughing fits don't gross him out and he'll be there to help you feel better however he can

Will hound on treatment regimens

He'll try soooo hard not to ask if he can dissect you

Ofc will remind you to wash your hands regularly, but he knows you're already aware of that. His reminders are more his way of telling you he cares about your wellbeing and that he loves you (don't let him convince you that he doesn't)

If you need someone by your side when you're bedridden, he's there. Even if he has to take off time from work, he will, and don't feel guilty for it. He'll sit beside you and have the silliest conversations with you, whether they are theoretical or just casual talk. If you win him over he'll snuggle, but this man is TALL so get yourself a big bed, okay?

He will try to keep his smoke out of your face so that it doesn't stuff you up

He's here to help you to the best of his abilities. He can only imagine how hard it is, but he's a smart guy. He'll take care to make sure you're as healthy as possible.

[kodiackwrites]

Willy wonka x chronically ill reader, warnings of doctor and sickness talk! (I have chrons & POTS so this is roughly based on those diagnoses but there’s no mention of set issue)

Willy wonka who’s partner is chronically ill but the doctors can’t find any diagnosis or treatment.

Willy wonka who sits by your side through every trip to the doctor, on the bathroom floor during bad nights, taking note of foods and other triggers.

One day in specific, the day was going well you felt decent for the first time in a while, so Willy takes you to walk around town and sight see. But your head started spinning, your legs felt light, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up, usually you’d have crutches for this, but you’d left them at home. And of course Willy would always support you.

One day, things were bad, you couldn’t leave your bed or the ball you were curled into, dearly clutching a giraffe plushy will had bought you. Will had left to grab you water, and rushed back into your room with light weight, not making too much noise, “I’m so sorry honey I’m back, I’m right here.” He said bringing over your water, placing it right by your side, You weakly looked up to meet his eyes, tears fighting to fall down your face. His expression filled with sorrow as he brought a hand to your chin, carefully listing your face to place a kiss on your cheek, before crawling into bed by your side, you looked to your water, seeing a small chocolate, It was in the shape of a heart, with purple and blue streaks throughout, you’d never doubted Will’s choice of sweets, so you took it into your hands, and slowly ate it. Before drinking a bit of water and rolling over into Will’s arms, which he wrapped around you immediately, making sure you were comfortable, and massaging your scalp. Leaving you to drift off to sleep calmly.

You’d wake up with Willy still holding you, he’d never dare leave you in such a state, but you felt, better? For once in so so long, you felt normal, no discomfort, headaches, stomach aches, it was a miracle, you quickly say up and turned Willy, “Did you?” He just smiled, “it worked?” He asked hopefully, you couldn’t find the words to respond, just jumped into his arms, “thank you handsome, so so much.”

(I need this to be real, I’m dying)

[2demondogs]

Hosea/Chronically Ill Reader Headcanons

A/N: Self-indulgence... Gender neutral reader. Written with POTS in mind, but it could speak to some others. A few conditions have been recognized as Soldier's Heart or Da Costa's Syndrome among many other names.

Hosea is kicking pretty good for the wear and tear he's seen, but it doesn't mean those years aren't catching up to him. As his emphysema gets worse, you're both sitting out on things that neither of you want to. The aches, the shortness of breath, the random, strange things that go haywire inside; he gets them, too, for different reasons.

Beyond the physical symptoms, he can understand the mental challenges of feeling like your body just refuses to do what you're asking it to. It's frustrating and you both have a habit of pushing yourselves and finding out the hard way what happens.

It helps to have someone to care for when you feel like you are losing your own usefulness, your own ability. This goes both ways, although Hosea is a little less willing to accept any kind of help.

He's the one to tell you it's likely a case of Soldier's Heart, having been the world over and seen next to everything. He's taken a few rides into town to converse with doctors or page through books to refresh his herb memory. Hosea's got new herbal concoctions for you every other week to help remedy the symptoms; whether they work or not and regardless of the disappointment when they don't, you appreciate the care.

When you're getting a flare, he finds whoever is slacking most to take on your chores so he can spend the time with you. He'd take them on himself if he could do both. He will constantly remind you of all you do when you express you feel guilty or ashamed. He might project some with his comforts, but usually they still hit close to home and soothe you.

Hosea likes reading to you, keeping his voice even and steady so your body can adjust itself based on his rhythm. He prefers to be able to see you in his peripherals, but he'd never deny you of laying your head in his lap or curling around his back. You often doze off in those positions, and he's glad you're getting the rest you need.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

ERIK STEVENS | KILLMONGER (the mcu)

—

“Just Thinking” (Erik Stevens x Fem!Reader)

| Erik’s watching you…hard (and not in the sexy way).

| SFW, fluff/angst, chronic pain, someone’s gonna start crying

| picture source: Black Panther (2018) movie

| 1k+ words

Erik is watching you.

To be fair the man nearly never didn’t have his eyes glued to you, but his gaze feels new tonight.

Erik liked to claim that he wasn’t introspective because he was sure of his every move from day one but the look he was hitting you with sure seemed introspective.

You're in your bedroom, Erik having come over after work, getting ready to go to sleep. You’re bouncing around your room getting all your medicine together in one place so you can try to rest a little easier when you get in bed.

Erik’s sitting one his side of the mattress, feet planted firmly onto your carpet as he rests his arms on his legs and tracks you with his eyes.

“Do you remember where I put the stuff for my arms?”

At your question his eyes actually briefly rise to meet yours before he nods to the bathroom.

“In that green bag under the sink,” he murmurs.

You nod and immediately start moving to get it. Your body was always hurting you, that was a factor of life you just had to learn to deal with, but your nightly routine was sacred for a reason.

The pain you felt on a “good day” didn’t compare to the liquid fire in your veins and the way you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs as you walked (if you were even able to) on a bad one. Erik knew how you got too, so whenever you did this he tended to stay out of your way.

Sometimes you felt bad about how you’d often keep him up at night because of how inescapable and overwhelming the pain could get but Erik never complained in real time.

He’d bitch and moan about being tired in the morning while pressing a kiss to your forehead and still waking up early to go for his morning run and make breakfast.

Erik liked to complain but he never complained about you.

You grab the green bag from the cabinet and a pack of alcohol wipes then come back into the room.

He still hasn’t stopped looking.

You make eye contact with him every once in a while as you start measuring things out while you wait for your cold injection to warm up enough that you can inject it into your stomach. He doesn’t not keep your gaze, he just doesn’t respond to the inquiring looks you throw at him. You leave it alone for the time being. If Erik wanted to talk to you he would in his own time, the man didn’t like to keep shit in and let it fester with you if he could help it.

It’s as you’re checking your blood pressure that he finally starts moving. He gets up and holds his hand out to you when you’re about to open the little black carrying case that has your monitor inside.

There’s a question there that you answer by placing it atop his open palm.

When he brings it closer he doesn’t let go of your hand where you’re also holding it and so you offer him your own appendage right then. You can check your pressure just fine by yourself but if he wanted to do this for you you wouldn’t deny him it. At least today.

If it was a bad day and you were in way more pain than usual you tended to get short with him and didn’t like accepting his help. That would probably always be a work in progress since you didn’t like feeling reliant on anyone.

You’re doing pretty well now though. Your pain is reduced to just pin pricks all over your skin and some stiffness in your joints, the medicine taking effect to its best.

Standing in front of you Erik unzips the bag and starts putting everything together with deft fingers. He’s got the whole process over for you in two minutes. You smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth with a thank you before putting the case away.

He doesn’t move back to the bed when he’s done with that but he doesn’t try to offer to give you your shot either. You had to take it every two days and never during the duration of your relationship had you once reacted positively to him (or anyone who wasn’t your doctor) wanting to do it for you. Erik always left you to it like you wanted now, no fuss.

He sighs and then he’s finally looking into your eyes. “Do you ever regret any of it?”

Cooled down medicine in your hand you only half turn to give him your attention.

“Hmm?”

He shakes his head.

“Never mind it’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes at him but let the silence envelop you briefly in favor of readying yourself. An injection wasn’t exactly something you could afford giving partial attention to. You glance up at him, now sitting against the headboard as his eyes bore into you. Hm.

“You gonna say what’s bothering you?”

“I’m just thinking.”

You raise an eyebrow as you attach the needle to the medicine vial and pull on the plunger to extract its contents.

“Let me go buy a lottery ticket then.”

Your delivery is dry but Erik huffs out a laugh anyway. He rubs his hands down his face.

“I’m being serious though. I mean- you don’t regret me moving you around so often?”

You wipe off underneath your stomach with rubbing alcohol as you ponder what he’s not asking you.

“You mean do I regret marrying you when you're so busy and I’m so sick?”

Erik’s lips purse and he looks away from you.

Huh.

“Erik, you’re the Wakandan Ambassador now and I knew that when we got back together. You can’t be here all the time,” you shrug. “Which is fine because I was taking care of myself before you and that hasn’t changed.”

You stop talking as you administer the shot with furrowed brows; Erik doesn’t speak. You ignore both the breaking of skin and the feel of the injection with the ease of practice, pull the needle out and then wipe it clean with another alcohol wipe.

When you look up at your husband he seems to still be thinking so you hum and start cleaning up. Band Aid first, properly dispose of everything used, pack all the medicinal stuff up, and hide it back away in the cabinet. Or the fridge.

“I could help you,” Erik punches out unprompted. He seems pained, voice constricted.

“Erik,” you gasp out as you turn to him. The implications of his words don’t even fully hit you; it's the way his hands are fisted so tight they’re shaking.

“Wakanda, they have resources. They’re the most medically advanced place in the world.”

“Erik please,”

He ignores you.

“They could help you. I could-” he takes a harsh breath and looks up to you. Your stomach flips at the look in his eyes, red and brimming with unshed tears. “All it would take is a fucking week. Baby one damned week and you wouldn’t have to do none of this shit no more and you know what they’re telling me?”

He’s not yelling, though even if he was it wouldn’t really be aimed at you, but his voice carries the weight of a scream. You know it’s only not that because it’s you he’s talking to. Your heart has also dropped out of your body.

“They said no, I couldn’t bring you to Wakanda and I couldn’t bring anything from there to you. I was out voted. I am a prince and I’m still just as useless at helping you as before-”

“Erik stop.”

His blurring form in the bed tenses as he listens and you're almost panting, chest tight. He is too. You can see his chest heaving with the pressure of his words even as a tear rolls down your cheeks. You rub it away with a sigh.

“Babe,” You crawl onto the bed with a small groan that you move right past before you're over him. You plant his face with kisses.

Erik huffs out a laugh, arms circling around your middle, but it’s reluctant.

“Yeah baby?”

He pulls you into his lap and you don’t fight it, smiling and swooping down to press a kiss right in the middle of the crease between his brows. You press two more there until the area smoothes out. You were in a good mood and you did not want to be angry about everything right now.

“I don’t need you to save me.”

“But it’s-”

“Hush,” you hold your index finger up to his mouth and he dutifully quiets. He must be more fucked up about this than you thought. You take your finger away and peck him on the lips. “No buts, alright? Now I’m not saying not to hook me up if you can get access to this treatment, but right now it’s a what if and I can’t bank my life on that.”

He rolls his eyes, “It’s not a what if though.”

“Except at this point it is, E, and the same way I’m not wasting my time on a miracle cure is the same way you shouldn’t be either.”

“Alright I see what you’re saying.” Erik’s nodding but you can tell by the grin on his face he’s got something else in mind. “Or I could steal that shit.”

“And commit treason?”

This time when he laughs it’s full, nearly knocks you from your highly coveted position and everything, and the conversation isn’t done but he’ll drop it for now. Hopefully not becoming a fugitive in the meantime.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I could’ve gone into more detail with this but I simply did not want to. Also this is not proofread yet.

(I don’t like writing Erik because I don’t think I capture him well at all but I’ve been sitting on a few stories with him and decided fuck it on this one cause it’s cute. I also have a pattern to my updates which means either cute/action/angst had to be next so everything worked out well enough.)

It’s black love day so happy that, I guess! This fic is too old for me to claim I wrote it for today but we can pretend.

[xieni-logs]

hello!! could i request Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan and Gepard with a chronically ill s/o? just some fluff and comfort :)

thank you!! have a lovely day <3

HSR x chronically ill!Reader

includes: Blade, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng

a/n: hii!! I’m not sure what type of chronic illness you wanted the reader to have so each character has a different chronically ill reader, I hope that’s ok! blade's was kind of self-indulgent because i got arthritis (though no where as severe as the reader's is depicted) im so sorry if some of the illnesses arent 100% accurate word count: 1.4k (in total)

Blade x Reader with rheumatoid arthritis

: ̗̀➛ you were diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis in every joint in your body. this meant that the pain in your joints would only get worse with time. of course, you had your good and bad days. on good days, the pain was minimal, to the point you wouldn't feel a thing. but on bad days, the pain in your shoulders made it difficult to carry bags, lift things, and particular bad days made it near impossible to get even changed. somedays, the pain in your hips were uneven and made you limp. Blade didn't really understand it at first; you were fine one day and looked terrible the next. it took him a while but he eventually understood that your arthritis came and went. 

: ̗̀➛ one particular bad day, you could only lay down, feeling uncomfortable in your own body, a constant spike of pain present. breathing felt difficult, and you felt yourself tearing up just trying to sit up. the minutes it takes to even sit up right felt more like hours. sometimes, the pain killers wouldn't work as they should, and unfortunately, this was one of those days. 

: ̗̀➛ Blade enters your room and you quickly turn your head to face him, and immediately regret it due to the pain. he knows it's one of those bad days; your eyes watery, the awkward position you were sitting in, and the look on your face just begging him to make the pain go away. it's difficult for him to comfort you with words so he goes to get some heating pads, food for you to eat, etc... anything he can really. he'll hold you close, minimal movements, letting you lay on him. in the silence between you two, he can't help but wish that at the very least, you could achieve the eternal peace he was chasing after. 

Gepard x Reader with asthma

: ̗̀➛ as the captain of the silvermane guards, he has to keep fit and he’d like you, his lover, to at least do some morning runs with him. he knows that you have asthma, but he didn’t think a morning brisk would do anything awful. as long as you managed your symptoms, it was all fine! there usually arent any problems either, to the point your inhaler was often forgotten at home during these runs.

: ̗̀➛ unfortunately, perhaps you were trying to go faster for Gepard knowing he usually slowed down for you or something but you were definitely pushing yourself more than you could handle. your breaths drew short, not enough oxygen getting to you leaving you lightheaded as you continued to run. Gepard ran a bit in front of you, or at least he did. you watched as the distance between you and him grew farther and farther, and your running got slower until it came to a halt. leaning against a wall, you tried to catch your breath but you honestly couldn’t tell if you were breathing at all. the pain coming from your chest felt like too much, you had a hard time pushing air in and out of your lungs.

: ̗̀➛ Gepard ran back, retracing his steps, when he saw you were no longer with him. he found you hunched over, leaning against a wall, looking like you were hyperventilating. rushing to your side, he quickly recognizes that you were having an asthma attack. scooping you into his arm, he quickly runs back to your home. he may look calm due to the fact he is able to hide his fears, he’s a captain after all, but he’s panicking on the inside. the way home is blurry; you aren’t focused on what’s happening around you, only feeling your chest going up and down yet it didn’t feel like you were breathing. it felt as if there was something blocking your airway, causing everything to feel sort of stuck. Gepard grabs your inhaler and shakes it, before giving it to you. the effects don’t happen immediately which worried Gepard, but you eventually were able to breath, at least a little. he takes you to a hospital to get checked up immediately after. it’s when you’re getting checked does the realization that he came so close to losing you sink in. Gepard is clingier the week after that; holding your hands more (even when he’s working), kissing you almost every chance he gets, holding you before bed, etc… he’ll never forget to bring your inhaler on your morning runs after that.

Jing Yuan x Reader with diabetes

: ̗̀➛ low blood sugar is more than being shaky; no matter how long you’ve been diabetic, you’ll never get used to the god awful feeling of dread that occurs. Jing Yuan cares about your health, and he’s got the books and notes to prove it. usually, diabetes doesn’t get in the way of your life besides watching what you eat, having to keep fit, but it’s manageable.

: ̗̀➛ certain occasions like today, unfortunately, you wake up to a shaky feeling crawling up your body. it was early morning, Jing Yuan slept looking peaceful by your side. you forced yourself up and reached over to the meter as quietly as you could. after loading the strip into the device, you pricked your finger- a feeling you will never like. the number 40 glowed on the screen, glaring at you. you knew you had to wake Jing Yuan up because you really didn’t think you could go anywhere feeling like this. you felt awful nudging him awake, interrupting his sleep. all you have to do is show Jing Yuan the 40 and he’s beelining to the kitchen for some juice. when you finish drinking the juice, Jing Yuan holds; your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you.

: ̗̀➛ your apologies to Jing Yuan for waking him fall to deaf ears as he’s rebutting everything you’re saying. many “nothing to be sorry about”s and “it’s not your fault”s could be heard. 15 minutes later, you prick your finger and show Jing Yuan a glowing 97. he goes to grab you a sandwich and after you finish eating, you two go back to bed. you lean on his shoulder, his hand cradling the side of your head, his chin laid on the top of your head, the two of you drift back to sleep holding each other.

Dan Heng x Reader with osteoporosis

: ̗̀➛ the path of the Trailblaze was not one without danger and Dan Heng was afraid you’d to be hurt in the crossfire though. you were diagnosed with osteopenia which eventually led to osteoporosis, which meant your bones were brittle. you hated it, this meant you were a liability to the astral express when trailblazing and often had to sit out during anything that had the slightest bit of danger. once, you asked if you could just have March’s shield on you at all times but even that proved ineffective in the long run.

: ̗̀➛ today, the astral express crew was visiting Herta for the Trailblazer to check out the simulated universe. Dan Heng quickly finished off the enemy before rushing to your side. it looked terrible, your arm was bent out of place and you couldn’t find it in yourself to say a thing. when you tried to move, a dreadful grinding sound occurred which made you nauseous. Dan Heng alerted the rest of the express crew before they all brought you to the medical department. thankfully, it wasn’t anything irreversible but throughout the treatment, you couldn’t help but feel like a big burden, getting hurt easily.

: ̗̀➛ once everything is fine and all you needed was time to heal, Dan Heng pulled you into a tight hug, whispering a few “thank god you’re fine”s and a “i was so worried.” usually you’d love his clingier side but it felt like pity. and god, it made you feel awful. no one else on the express would get hurt as easily as you. you push Dan Heng away, feeling terrible that you were such a burden, you quickly brief over how you feel. he grabs your wrist, looking you straight in your eyes, and loudly stated every reason you were not a burden because of your osteoporosis. from how you could take care of yourself to helping the express in ways non-physical like talking your way into less community service when the astral express crashed into a stadium. Dan Heng pulled you into a hug saying one last time, “you aren’t a burden.”

[my-morai]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9902 | Tech/Reader Characters: CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Reader Additional Tags: Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft CT-9902 | Tech, Love, Love Confessions, Disability, Happy Ending Summary:

Tech turned and rose quickly from the bed, retrieving his data pad from a nearby table. You pushed yourself up, trying to reach a seated position, a feeling of dread washing over you.

“Tech?”

“I cannot believe I have been so unobservant, I should have realized you would run out of the medication without the regular supply from the Republic.”

He was tapping furiously on his datapad now, brows knit together.

“Tech, there was so much you were already worrying about-”

“You should always be my primary concern.”

[armyangxls]

About me: My name is Lexi, I’m 20, Queer, Christian writer, editor, neurodivergent, chronically ill, and my pronouns are she/they

About my stories: Most of my stories are written as chronically ill gender neutral readers! And all are autistic queer plus size readers!

What I post: fandom stuff, fanfics, stories, icons, gifs, fancasts, stimboards, etc

My f/os: Tex Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Richie Kirsch, Evan Buckley, Ticci Toby, Ryan Hudson, Corey Cunningham, Henry Creel, Mike Munroe, Chris Halliwell, Gilbert Blythe, Johnny Sawyer, Cooper Adams, Herr König, Adam Maitland, Wadsworth (Clue), etc

Random favorite things: Scooby Doo, non sketchy storms, St. Augustine FL, cozy days, horror media, video games, board games, cartoons, road trips, cozy spooky media, ghosts, period media, dusk, Ghibli movies, foggy days, witchy stuff, mysteries, celestial stuff, decorations, paranormal!

Favorite aesthetics: whimsigoth, fairy Grunge, tropical girl, spooky coastal town, anything cozy or spooky!

Favorite music: Chase Atlantic, Chappell Roan, Brye, Isabel LaRosa, She Wants Revenge, BTS, TV girl, Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Fleetwood Mac, Olivia Rodrigo, The Neighborhood, Lovelytheband, Mazzy Star, Melanie Martinez, Halsey!

Favorite YouTubers: Jake Webber, Johnnie Gilbert, Sam and Colby, Loey Lane, Trek Trendy, Jessii Vee!

Fandoms: BTS, The Vampire Diaries, Encanto, Stranger Things, DC Stargirl, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Fear Street, Scream, The Lost Boys, Outer Banks, 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, The Crow, Halloween, Nancy Drew, Lisa Frankenstein, House Of Wax, Pretty Little Liars, Elvis (2022), Bridgerton, Are You Afraid of The Dark?, Fate The Winx Saga, Anne of Green Gables (1985-), Riverdale, The Maze Runner, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, American Horror Story & Stories, Harry Potter (anti JKR), Fantastic Beasts, Scream TV Series, Charmed, Dead By Daylight, My Babysitter’s A Vampire, Sense and Sensibility, I Am Not Okay With This, Love Victor, It (2017), Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, The Strangers Prey at Night, Rizzoli And Isles, Texas Chainsaw Massacre game, Five Nights At Freddy's, Abigail, Trap, Beetlejuice, etc

Social Medias: @btsarmygirl417 Edit Instagram TikTok @starry-ghost-tour my reblog account @whimsyspookyloves my f/o account

Playlist: Character playlists Part Two Monthly Playlist

DNI: Racists, Homophobos, Transphobos, pro-eds, fatphobos, ableists, Trump Supporters, Nazis, Proshipers, anti self-diagnose, conservatives, etc

Taglists: Stranger Things Taglist Scream Taglist Stargirl taglist Fear Street taglist

Masterlists: Writing Masterlist Gif Masterlist Test Posts Masterlist Fancasts Masterlist Icons Masterlist

🔮🕯️🎃🍁🍂👽🎃🔮👻🍁🍂🎃🕯️🔮

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Hello! I don't know if you write for the more obscure characters in Botw/Totk but I figured I'd ask just in case ☺️ Could you please write something about Tauro, Purah, Sidon and Zelda dating a Sheikah s/o who's chronically ill/disabled? It'd be great if you could make them specifically have weak bones and be really short too, and they're often upset how people keep babying them because they might fracture or break something. But if you want to keep it more open-ended that's fine too!

Thank you so so much, you're probably my favorite Zelda blog on Tumblr! Your writing and ideas are always like *chefs kiss* 😘! Have a good day and drink lots of water!

Whenever people tell me I'm their favorite anything it literally shocks me because there are SO many fantastic zelda fic blogs on here that I feel are vastly superior - but I thank you nonetheless! 🥰

I'll write for pretty much any character - I just keep romance and nsfw content for adults. So I'd be happy to!

Tauro, as well-mannered and good-natured he is, is amongst the mass where he needs to be reminded that while you are disabled, you aren't incapable of doing normal things. He tries his best to remember that, but his rambunctious and steadfast nature leads him to be righteous and helpful, even when it's not needed. Plus given his height, he always just assumes that people tend to need help to reach things in tall places if he's ever around. He does try his best to be sensitive to your needs and wants, however, tapping his hand to his chest when he catches himself doing too much. Instead, he makes an effort to remind himself to wait for you to ask him should you need anything. Very affectionate, otherwise - he enjoys making you smile and wrapping his big ol' bear arms around you (albeit, he's careful not to actually squeeze you too hard because he does NOT know his own strength) and is very attentive on the days that you specifically don't feel well and your body leaves you in a weaker state than normal.

Purah, being the research fanatic and accomplished scientist that she is, is already aware and well read on your illness. That, however, has never stopped her from being absolutely smitten with you. Where she is boisterous and outlandish, there is a careful resilience to you that she keeps close to her heart. She sees your frustration often with the townsfolk who treat you with unnecessary delicacy, and while she understands the "good-intent", she feels as you do: chronic illness should not beget differential treatment. When you express your frustrations, she's an open ear always. Purah is never one to explain why the people of your community act this way that leans in their favor, but rather why their attitudes should not portray you under a fragile light when you are anything but. She empathizes with you greatly, knowing exactly what it's like for your own people to treat you like you're something you're not (her experiences with de-aging left quite the mark), but she assures you that you've always got her on your side.

“I’ve never much like everyone else…and neither have you,” Purah muses, tapping her recorder in her hand. She lifts her glasses, her crimson eyes blazing in your direction with admiration and sincerity, “I guess that makes us a cut above the rest, now doesn’t it?”

Sidon is about as bubbly with you as you can imagine. That sharp smile completely alight when you're with him. His height difference compared to yours doesn't bother him considering he towers greatly over just about everyone he meets, so as long as you don’t care (which he secretly hopes you don’t!) then all is well. When he learns about your chronic illness, he’s at first admittedly worried, but he sees how much you value your independence and doesn’t push you to do less than anything you’re up for. Sidon, having learned his healing capabilities from Mipha, will actually offer to “bathe” with you whenever you’re not feeling especially strong, letting the softness of his magically imbued water immerse your body and take any pain or pressure off of your form for a while and bring you some ease. You don’t take him up on it often, half because you don’t feel it’s always necessary, and half because you don’t want to impose - though of course Sidon would refute you ever being an imposition upon him. He chooses his words very carefully, making sure to give you the impression that he’s willing to do whatever you need should you need something from him, but without overstepping and making you feel incapable.

“You’ll never be without, my darling,” Sidon whispers, taking your hand, those slit-pupiled eyes softening as he brushes back a lock of your silver-white hair, “But I will never claim to know you better than yourself.”

Zelda has always been a ball of curiosity, that’s one of the things you love about her. She has an awfully curious mind, so when you explain to her about your chronic illness for the first time, she of course asks you a lot of questions. You laugh thinking about back then, how she felt terrible for borderline prying into your life though she wanted to know everything about you at that time. You remember assuring her that it was fine, and it made you incredibly grateful that Impa had introduced you before she stepped down - it allowed you two to get close. The times that you’ve gone to town together, Zelda takes notice of how people tend to treat you akin to porcelain: delicate, fragile, some even giving off the impression that you’re a lost cause because of your Sheikah heritage. Combined with your stature (with Zelda herself being on the shorter side of an average Hylian’s height), it’s enough to infuriate you both. You two tend to bounce off of one another: shes sticks up for you when you feel like someone’s unnecessarily babying you, and you put your two cents in whenever someone is overly cautious and hovering due to her status, even after proving herself beyond capable. Ultimately she too understands your plight of people looking at you differently because of who are you or what they know about you. She recants the days when her father treated her as helpless and small, hyper focused on keeping her in line rather than letting her be her own person. She takes your hand, intertwining fingers with yours and lending you a genuine smile.

“But we are not weak. We are not frail or easily broken. I am not defined entirely by my title,” Zelda kisses the top of your hand before gently covering it with her other in an endearing move, “And you are not defined by your illness.”

[marbl3z]

I know it hurts, I'm here, my love.

chronically ill reader x Dan heng

Very self indulgent — I kind of forced myself to write this at 12am, I didn't want the thought to leave my mind.

I'll add warnings later. I just want this out.

Your joints hurt, your head pounding. Though as the pain washes over you, you tried your best not to worry Dan Heng. Your precious lover, you hated seeing those sympathetic eyes, he wishes he could take the pain away. You both know that'll never happen, this is a curse that you bear and as the time goes on, it may lessen or it may get worse. Nonetheless, it'll never disappear for good.

You laid your head on his chest, one arm wrapped around your frame and the other holding up a book. You had your eyes fixated on something on your phone, your symptoms were bad so times like this were comforting and you were able to get your mind off of the pain for a while. Well, that's what you hoped..

Another rush of pain through your left side, your shoulder and elbow hurting as if you had arthritis. You shifted uncomfortably your head pounded due to your heart rate being erratic. Your lover noticed your uncomfortable shift.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You made a strangled groan as you whined, sitting up after not getting comfortable enough to relax.

He sat up with you, placing his book face down onto the plush mattress. His hand ghosted around your back as you tried shifting your arm, rotating it gently to not hurt the muscle. He saw your painful expression as you sighed, defeated.

"do you need me to get anything?" He asks, you shake your head in response. Your lip quivered, you felt like you were going to cry but you held it in as your lover was right beside you.

He was afraid to hold you, unsure where the pain was focused at. He tried to think of something to give you relief, remembering that he read that warm water or a heating pad helps lessen tension in muscles.

"sweetie, is it okay if I go grab the heating pad from the infirmary?" He caresses your face, pressing his forehead against yours.

You nod, not wanting to speak as it hurt your throat to talk. He gets up, placing his phone in his pocket and yours next to you. He gives you a quick kiss on your head as he left your room quickly, not wanting to leave you by yourself for too long. Your lips quivered again, the pain washing over you in waves. It felt as if your muscles were on fire, your shoulder ached so badly you thought it might fall off.

Tears filled your tired eyes, you wanted this to end. You fall back onto the plush mattress, the pain becoming unbearable. Your body rocked with hiccups from your sobs, you prayed that you'd get better. You prayed and prayed the pain would stop, not even pain killers helped. It hurt so much, it made you question your existence.

As you sobbed, clutching Dan Heng's pillow. It was the only bit of comfort you had, he was your light during the darkest moments. He was the reason you kept fighting. You regret letting him go to the infirmary, you don't know how long you've been sobbing. You felt a gentle hand on your back, rubbing soft circles onto your muscles.

"I'm here, I'm sorry I took so long... I couldn't find it quick enough..." he pants, his hair a mess, he has the heating pad in his hand, the cord wrapped neatly in his fist.

You hiccuped, turning over. "Why do I have to suffer.." you weakly asked. His eyes softened, he plugged the pad in, waiting for it to become warm. "What did I do wrong..?" You asked, nuzzling your face into the plush pillows that felt like concrete against your muscles.

"you did nothing wrong... I'm so sorry," he whispers, pulling you to him, your achy joints hurt so bad but when you're in his arms it felt as if it was bearable. "My sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Life is so unfair to you, I wish I could take it away. I wish I could find a cure for you." He coos, rubbing your shoulder softly, hearing your sobs in his neck made his heartbreak.

"I just wish I was normal," you hiccup'd clutching his shirt in your small fists. He shushes your cries, picking you up with one arm. He shoved blankets and pillows around to support your body. He plops you down gently, kissing your face.

"I love you, you're so strong for going through this. You're so brave, you're so so brave." He whispers, pressing his forehead against your own.

You whine, your head resting against his pillow. He hushes your cries, wiping your tears away with his thumb. Kissing your chapped lips, he leans you towards him, placing the heating pad underneath your back.

"where does it hurt, lovely?" He smiles softly, wanting you to feel better. You cried out as another wash of pain went over your body.

You pointed with your right arm to where it hurt the most. He took mental notes, pressing his lips against your shoulder. It's not much, but he wants to distract you from the pain. Pretending his kisses could heal your achy body, cure your pounding headache, he wants to make you feel as if everything will be okay.

He moves down to your arm, kissing the joint softly, his hand intertwined with your own. Your cries echo'd the room, he rubs your cheek softly. Kissing you wrist, moving to your palm and your knuckles. His lips were soft and warm against the achy joints and muscles.

"I got you, my starlight." He whispers. "It'll be okay, I won't leave you alone..." he promises kissing near the artery in your wrist.

Your eyes are barely open, you were so exhausted you didn't know if it was possible to go to sleep at this point. The pain was so intense, but also numbing... maybe his kisses were working, or maybe the heating pad helped, Either way.

"I love you so so so much." His warm breath against your lips made you hum. Not whine, or groan, just a gentle hum.

Your intertwined hands was enough to let you both know you loved each other, there was no reason to say it back, he knew. He presses a kiss where your heart is, right in the middle of your sternum. Pressing his forehead against it too, "please, just give them relief..." he whispers it was almost too quiet for you to hear.

Your eyes were basically closed, the last thing you see was his fluffy dark hair resting on top of your sweater. He shuffles a bit more, massaging everywhere that could be hurting you. He hums a gentle tune, one he probably heard somewhere on one of his trailblaze missions. His voice always put you to sleep, it was comforting to hear him "sing".

He lays next to you, pulling you gently closer to him. You scooted over, tiredly. He nuzzled your hair, holding your hand on top of your chest, his palm feeling your heart eventually slow to a calm rhythm. He smiled as he kissed your head, you were finally off to sleep. Hopefully not in pain, hopefully no nightmares tonight either.

---

I'm tired. I'll give a proper fic when I feel better, for now though.. here, I guess.

[fbfh]

hii! could I request headcanons for leo and a reader (gender neutral or female, whatever u prefer) with chronic fatigue? there's barely any fics with cfs rep and he's my comfort character so i thought i'd ask T-T. i adore your writing and it's great to see that the hoo fandom is still alive. thank you sm!!

oh man oh boy I love this one anon. my dearest darlingest anoniest anon. one song that always makes me think of how it feels to be in a relationship with Leo is acolyte by slaughter beach dog. Leo can always tell when your fatigue is getting bad, sometimes before you can. There's this sort of soft way he looks at you when he knows you just need to rest a little. Whatever your needs are, Leo will always be sure to meet them. If you need to lay down and sleep or rest for a while, he'll make sure you're in optimum napping conditions. Need some cuddles? he's already spooning you. Need to be alone? no problem, he's gonna work on some of his prototypes in the garage for a while, just text or call if you need anything. forehead kiss. longing warm gaze.

"I love you, estrella."

punctuated by another kiss, ofc. he always has ibuprofen or other pain killers for when you start to feel achy, and he's better at helping you keep track of your meds than your pill tracker app. Leo's love language is "I invented this for you to make your life easier", like the guy who invented rubber gloves. Leo loves you to the point of invention. he's joked for years that he's going to build you a Jetsons house, so everything is perfectly automated. all you need to do is sit in a chair while you glide down an assembly line and everything will be done for you. sometimes you text him and tell him you're having a jane jetson day. he always comes right over with snacks and tea and anything else you might need. he'll cuddle you for a while, help you out with some housework, do a little meal prep for you. he never, ever makes you feel bad or even neutral about having chronic fatigue. if it ever gets you down, he'll be right there with hugs and kisses and the sweetest, softest, most encouraging words. he tells you how he would hold up the sky for you or crawl out of hell, so helping with laudry and dishes when you're having a bad day is really no problem at all for him. he's happy to do it, happy to know your needs are met, happy to be the one to meet them. if you get any other symptoms like headaches or sore throats, he'll get every home remedy under the sun from his mom and you'll try them out until he finds what will work for you. Leo slowly makes good on his joking promise to make you a jetsons house, and you soon find your place filled with inventions here and there from Leo, little things to make your life easier. and they work. it takes so much stress out of your life knowing that your dish washer can now rinse, wash, dry, and put away your dishes, that your fridge organizes itself and prints out lists of what you're running low on - it can even send them to your phone to automatically order them. you have a roomba that Leo turned into the monster truck of roombas. not only does it vaccuum, but it also sweeps, mops, picks up your floor, can get you stuff from other rooms, and folds laundry. it's also a dehumidifier. you named him mr. butlertron. and Leo loves every motherfucking moment of it. even if all you can do is sit or lay down in the same room as him while he cleans or cooks or works on his projects, it always makes it so much better because you're there. you're there with him, so everything is good. perfect.

[couldntbedamned]

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader

Warnings/AO3 Tags: Domestic Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Reader has a chronic illness, Doctor Stephen, Caretaking, Kamar-Taj (Marvel), Probable Misuse of the Mirror Dimension, Don’t Try This At Home, There are probably Medical Inaccuracies, But it’s about the fluff and comfort, Medicine, Healthy Relationships

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You’re sick and thanks to a weakened immune system, having a hard time resting and fighting it off. It’s absolutely miserable but lucky for you, Stephen is more than willing to step into the role of caretaker and help you feel better.

Author’s Note: I’m back with another super self-indulgent fic featuring Stephen and a Chronically Ill Reader.

Because when sick and feeling miserable, why not hope for a strong, caring, also kind-of-an-asshole magic doctor to take care of you?

The knock at your door shouldn’t have surprised you.

Of course, Wong would have mentioned your absence to Stephen. Not just because he was your friend and cared about you, but because you were also one of the sorcerers who’d studied under him at Kamar-Taj, and he felt a lovely sort of protectiveness for you. Plus, Wong played dirty; if you were feeling resistant to his advice, he would send in Stephen who could easily sway the odds in the librarian’s favor. It was underhanded, annoying, and you absolutely respected it.

You tried to stand up so you could answer the door, but your overwrought throat had other ideas. A coughing fit started, one so bad you couldn’t even wince through it as your body tried to cough up whatever crud your weakened immune system was generating in its pitiful fight against the “upper respiratory infection” (re: common cold) the urgent care doctor had diagnosed you with. You couldn’t even call for him to come in, instead hastily grabbing your glass of water and sucking it down in an attempt to soothe the raw ache in your throat. Times like this had you almost wanting to take the risk of your immune system attacking you again if it meant a day and night without painful, hacking coughing spells.

He must have gotten tired of waiting because the sound of a portal opening echoed in your living room.

“You didn’t have to stop by,” you croaked out. “Stephen, I’m so gross right now.”

“You certainly look gross,” he agreed. He knew you well enough to know that any attempts to say you looked beautiful would be met with disdain. You hated platitudes - you heard too many of them all too often. They were well-meaning, yes, but annoying.

So, you weren’t even mad at him for agreeing with you. You’d showered, obviously, but your eyes were watery from the pain and your hair was a mess. You were wearing your oldest pajama pants with a well-used handkerchief stuffed in the pocket and a loose, ratty long-sleeved shirt. You looked - and felt - absolutely disgusting.

“I’m not worried about that,” he said. “Because you sound even worse."

You watched as the Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts melted away and was replaced with Stephen Strange, MD. It was always a fascinating shift to observe. Your Stephen was a healer before he was anything else.

“How long as this been going on?”

You held up five fingers.

“Five days, okay.” He pulled out a pen light and a tongue depressor. There had to be something up with those pockets of his, there just had to be! “Stick out your tongue and say ‘ah’.”

Rolling your eyes, you did as he asked.

“Oh, that’s no fun at all. It’s all kinds of inflamed.” His fingers were gentle as they felt around your neck. He produced a stethoscope. You needed to learn that pocket-expansion spell.

Without prompting you breathed deeply and let him listen to your lungs. Then you breathed normally as he moved the diaphragm to your chest.

“Your lungs actually sound good.”

He checked your ears. “And your ears are draining properly, thank goodness. Have you been to see anyone?”

You nodded. “Urgent care,” you managed.

“Can you do me a favor and please stop talking if you don’t absolutely have to, Darling?” he asked. “There’s no need to make it worse and I know it hurts to speak right now.” He looked around and seized on a notebook and pen. “Here. Write down what you need to say. Do you have the discharge papers from the doctor on-call?”

You scribbled down Kitchen table, and wondered if this was your sign to seriously look into ASL classes.

He left and returned with the papers, reading and muttering to himself. “Benzonatate capsules… those are fucking useless. And… ‘gargle warm salt water and take ibuprofen for pain and fever as needed.’ Are they incompetent there?” He demanded of no one in particular once he was finished. “Did they even bother to read your medical history? When someone with your condition, on the mediction you take, gets sick, treatment has to be aggressive. Your body can’t fight it off on it’s own, otherwise, and you’ll just get worse.” He shook his head. “Do they want you to end up in the hospital with pneumonia?”

He was preaching to the choir. You’d heard this rant before from your care team, your support group, and others. But coming from him? It warmed your heart every time. He never made you feel helpless or unable to take care of yourself, but he had no problem stepping up to advocate for you.

You held up a finger and wrote out, They are a good clinic. I did my research before I walked in.

He nodded reluctantly. You continued to write.

You know why they’re so reluctant to just prescribe more aggressive treatments on a first visit. It sucks, but it can’t be helped. I can’t afford a DSB label in my records.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but wisely refrained. You two had been over this a few different times and ultimately he understood that the final say was, in fact, yours.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.” He’d worked in a lot of emergency care as a medical student, intern, and resident, as well as in MetroGeneral’s walk-in clinic when he wasn’t in a high enough position to finagle his way out of it. He knew the realities of it as well as anyone.

He studied you, no doubt taking in your watery eyes, unhealthy pallor, and all-around miserable body language. Then you gave a loud, hacking, desperate-to-be-productive cough and he cringed. “May I please treat you?” he asked. “It breaks the three-percent of my heart that isn’t a black, iced-over exuse for an organ to see you like this.”

You nodded with an amused snort that thankfully didn’t devolve into another fit. Please! I can’t take another night without sleep.

“I know,” he soothed. “I’ll help you. Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll be back.”

Where else would I go?

He smirked. “Behave.”

While he was gone you moved the many empty cups (all water you’d sucked down like it was elixir) to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher. You chucked the icky handkerchief in with the laundry to be washed in the hottest water possible and grabbed a fresh one from your bedroom dresser. It was dainty and feminine but you found yourself missing your father’s all-purpose paisley ones and wished you could pilfer one from his dresser drawer. (You’d even return it. Or, you’d do your best to remember to return it. History was not in your favor in that regard.)

Feeling better about the state of your residence, if not your current health, you sat on your sofa and sipped some water. You kept your breathing calm and level as best you could, not wanting to provoke another painful coughing session. Knowing you’d probably be on your way to feeling better than you felt in close to a week, you finally let your body relax.

Stephen wouldn’t be able to magically fix you, you knew, but he would help you get more comfortable and to a point where you could actually rest and start to recover. Most importantly, however, he always asked for your permission before doing so. That alone meant more to you than you could adequately express.

His instinct was always to heal; it was in the core of his being. But he never pushed or browbeat you into accepting, even when you could tell that he really really wanted to. His respect for your autonomy was one of the greatest gifts he could give you.

He stepped through another portal soon enough and he carried an insulated grocery bag and wore a leather messenger bag with a flat bottom. He set the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and brought the messenger bag with him.

Stephen?

He made a gesture and the Mirror Dimension shattered into being around you.

“Now,” he said with a pleased-at-his-own-cleverness smile. “As we’re in the Mirror Dimension, no can legally prove that I’m essentially committing a felony.”

He withdrew a tinted bottle with the screw cap you preferred. “This is an antibiotic. Take one pill once a day, preferably in the morning after breakfast. Speaking of breakfast, you’ll do well to avoid dairy for a couple of hours before and after taking this.”

Got it.

“And finish the entire bottle,” he added.

You saluted before writing Were these gained by legal means?

Stephen affected a dignified look. "Kamar-Taj is not beholden to Earthly legalities and our residents come from all walks of life. If they feel the need to use skills and knowledge previously learned for the betterment of our home, who am I to judge?"

Only slightly sketchy, then.

“I wouldn’t being you something that was neither safe nor effective, I promise. I would never harm a patient, especially one as precious to me as you.”

I know.

He withdrew a bottle from the bag, this one smaller but heavier. It wore the dosage cap like a little hat.

“The good cough syrup. This, you take right before bed. Once you take it, you need to lay down, because it’s strong.” His expression was serious, as it always was when it came to medicine. “I mean it, Darling. No cooking, no lifting heavy items, and definitely no going out and driving after you take a dose. The bottle is spelled to only administer the prescribed dosage in the provided cup, so there’s no risk of pouring too much or taking it before it’s needed again.”

What’s in it?

“An antihistamine and a very low concentration of codeine. I know you’d rather avoid narcotics and I want to agree, but Sweetheart, you need to be able to sleep right now. Your body can’t sustain this.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Just because you needed to take it, didn’t mean you had to like it.

He pulled out a larger bottle of liquid with another dosing cup. “This isn’t quite the good stuff but it’s suitable for day use and is non-habit forming.” He set it next to the other bottles. “It’s also spelled to only pour the prescribed dosage.”

You smiled, happy at the compromise.

“And last but certainly not least, what is quite literally an ancient Kamar-Taj remedy: throat lozenges crafted by a team of Masters from herbs and honey harvested from our greenhouses and hives. I asked for their recommendation and they insisted I bring you,” he studied the bag. “Very Extraordinary Berry.”

Your eyes were watery again, but it wasn’t from pain.

Thank you so much.

“I love that you value your independence and I know that you’re used to being the care taker in most cases. But it really is my pleasure to help,” he said. “You know I’m not good with words but you’re always telling me I show you much I love you, so hopefully this counts as one of those times.”

You nodded. It's absolutely one of those times.

Stephen stood and checked his watch - a cheap novelty watch that featured Spider-Man and was better suited for a pre-teen. You’d gotten it for him as cheeky little April Fool’s joke but he swore up and down that he loved it and wore it every day.

“It’s close to nine. Why don’t you have a juice bar, take some of the good stuff, and go to bed? I’ll put the groceries away and take care of everything else.”

Bed - with proper sleep! - sounded wonderful.

Okay.

“I brought strawberry and lemon flavors, since you apparently have the palette of my elderly neighbor Estelle.”

Don’t be a hater just because you’re a wuss when it comes to the nirvana that is lemon flavor.

“And I’ll make you Estelle’s recipe for chicken soup.” He pulled out two notecards. “Exactly the way she made it because I’d rather face Dormammu than her ghost haunting me for messing up her pride and joy.”

Oh that sounds good! The instant stuff just doesn’t cut it.

You enjoyed the frozen juice bar more than you’d enjoyed anything since you’d gotten sick. Then you took your dose of “the good stuff” under Stephen’s watchful - but not patronizing - eye. He pushed some water on you and helped you to bed. He even refilled your humidifier and tucked you in.

“Sleep well, Darling. I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

You nodded. “Love you,” you mouthed.

“I love you, too.”

He left and shut the door behind him. For the first time in days, you were able to sleep peacefully.

Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Trope: Hurt/Comfort

[obscure-imaginations]

I can see you have been asking for some requests. I love Kain so much, so I was wondering how he would be during giving comfort especially to his human with chronic illnesses such as TMJ (Temporomandibular joint dysfunction) and IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) I've been struggling with for a while now. Can be both SFW and NSFW if that's okay, or one or other other, I don't mind :3

Hello! I know of IBS, but I did some research into TMJ to help fully get the feel. If anything is incorrect, I do apologize. I definitely get you, chronic illness is a demon, and not in the nice wraith-y way.

SFW, cut for space. Caution for mentions of gore (Melchiahim) and Kain being a villain in the standard Kain way. Gods, I love him but his spacial awareness is... lacking.

Kain, in usual fashion, doesn't get it. Are humans really this fragile? After some research and listening to his human describe their experiences, he gets angry. What kind of existence is that? If the Melchiahim have problems with their jaws, they can sew on a new one. A joint doesn't move right, they can pick a human's who does and take it. If their guts don't work, cut them out and let them regrow. It's painful, sure, but at least it has a solution! (No one tell him the reality yet, he's only just now learning that people exist outside of himself.)

The worst part is that he knows he can't do anything about it. He's a man of action, so sitting around and not finding permanent solutions bothers him. He hates that his human has to suffer. He can't beat the problem into submission or debate it to death so he feels useless.

Once his human sits him down and explains how he can help, he follows instructions... as best he can. He makes sure you take any medicine on time. He ensures you're doing what the doctors and physical therapists say. He takes you to appointments and is quite diligent about making sure you're taking care of yourself. He can be overbearing and sometimes demanding, so don't be afraid to set him straight. He's learning that he actually *does* want to help.

For temporomandibular joint dysfunction in particular, he laments he can't massage the muscles without fear of clawing your face apart. He'll get any custom mouth guards for you, if they help. He tries his best to help with food if chewing is painful, helping soften it when he cooks for you- yes, he's a vampire with no need to eat human things, but he enjoys it as a hobby. Now he gets to put that hobby to use!

Including IBS symptoms! He'll work with you to find whatever dishes taste the best and don't irritate your symptoms. He's not afraid to get taste testers of... lesser value to ensure his methods work correctly. Then he presents what he has and prays you'll be okay. He helps get medicines to keep flare ups down. He talks to healers and has herbs for you to try.

All in all, he wants to help and does his best to do so.

[hetaliaimaginesin2022]

Can we have 2p England helping his S/O through a difficult time with their health? Like an episode where their chronic illness gets worse and its harder for them to move around and take care of themselves (haha this is definingly not a personal request or anything)

Chronic illnesses really are rough to live with, and I sincerely hope things get better for you, even if it's just a little bit for a little while

2p England Looking After A Chronically Ill S/O

Oliver is a total mother hen, especially when your chronic illness flare ups

He becomes even more attentive to you and your needs (if that's even possible) and has no qualms about picking up your split house chores, doing them without a single complaint

He'll also contact a doctor who makes home visits if that's what you need

Similarly, if you require a mobile aid, like a cane, walker, or wheelchair, he has no problems fetching those for you and walking more slowly if you want him to

Even though he's far better with baking oppose to traditional cooking, he'll still try his best to cook or buy you foods that are dense in vitamins and other important nutrients (as well as a few things to sweeten your day up a bit)

If you have trouble eating, he'll be incredibly nervous the entire time, but will make sure you get plenty of fluids

Doesn't mean to, but on days where pain flares up especially bad, he'll lay in bed, holding you with his face buried into your back, crying with or without you

He's just such a big sweetheart that seeing you in pain makes him distressed

If you're uncomfortable with that, he'll politely excuse himself from the room before coming back and holding you once again

Regularly reminds you, both when you're feeling well and unwell, that he'll be there for you regardless of how you're doing or what's going on