#Sicktember day 19

[lhaagain]

@sicktember Part 2 - My Mortal Soul

I've taken a slightly different approach to Sicktember this year and have grouped the prompts together into five fics. This one includes the following prompts: 19. Hypochondriac Tendencies 11. Mediaeval Treatment 23. Under a Spell 9. Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker 2. Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

My Mortal Soul

“I could not possibly,” Monica Joan declared. “My soul is only clinging to my physical manifestation by a thread.”

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Julienne said gently, coming to sit on the side of her sister’s bed. “Is there something in particular the matter?” When their elder sister had not appeared in the chapel for Lauds, Julienne had seen the weary look on Ada’s face and offered to go up instead.

For as long as Julienne had known Monica Joan, and she suspected long before that, she had been something of an eccentric. She was fond of ancient cultures, astronomy and astrology but increasingly she seemed to not only be fascinated but truly believe what she was saying.

“I am besieged by an evil temper. The wind must be from the east.”

“It might be,” Julienne said. “But I suspect that has little to do with what ails you.”

Read more on AO3

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 19: Curled Up With a pet

Warning for illness and fever

[fanfictasia]

Sicktember Day 19

Alt. Pounding Headache 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Mushroom Strikes Back

“What’s your name?” Anakin inquires, resting a hand on his fighter lightly for a moment. The dizziness is fading, but he still has a pounding headache.

“Oddball, sir,” he replies, and he can feel the clone staring at him, through the helmet, though he’s not quite sure why.

He’d tell him to just call him ‘Anakin’, but he doubts Oddball or any of the clones – except maybe Cody would be comfortable with that.

“If you’re not hurt, we should find cover and call for a pickup,” Anakin decides, finally. There’s a battle on the ground, but he doesn't know where they landed. It could be right in the middle of the Separatist forces. 

Towering trees loom around them on all sides, which makes it hard to see far, but he can hear the far-off sound of blaster shots. Maybe, this could also be an ideal time to attack the droids from behind. But first, they need to know where they are.

It would help if his head would stop hurting.

And why is Oddball still staring at him?

“What?” Anakin asks, finally.

“Your eyes,” Oddball blurts.

What? “What… about them?” Anakin asks, slowly, confused.

“They’re blue,” he offers, sounding like he’s feeling a little foolish now, “I’ve never seen blue eyes before.”

….oh.

Well, that explains a few things, and considering that for all that they look like they're twenty, they’re in reality only ten, it makes sense he’s so infatuated at the notion it’s possible.

And he could probably think of something to say better, that wouldn’t make Oddball more uncomfortable, if he could actually think. Which he can’t, because he doubts this headache will be fading for a while.

But he’s saved from having to answer at all when a blaster shot suddenly rings out very closeby. They scramble for cover behind a nearby tree, and Anakin reaches out with the Force, to see what he can sense.

People are approaching, which means clones. Maybe, they landed in the right area, after all

[revelationschapter6]

it feels like life weighs ten thousand tons

Events: Sicktember, Whumptember

Prompts:

Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Lashing out

Curled Up With a Pet

Warnings:

Minor self harm (Fallen angel picking up a blessed object)

Mentions of non-consensual touching (mentions of a character 'copping a feel')

This fill is written as a one-shot of my original story, Saudade. You can find my info page for Saudade here.

What context you need to read this is:

In Saudade, the Archangel Raphael Fell during the Rebellion. It was a misunderstanding that spiraled out of control, and he was thrown out by four angels while his partner, the Power Camael, tried to help him.

The angels who didn't Fall were made to forget those who did. They don't remember they ever knew them. As far as they know, all the Fallen were on the fringes of Heaven's society. If they asked around, they might go, "Wait, no one knew a Fallen?" But they Don't Ask Questions.

Raphael worked to gain Camael's trust again, and eventually won it. He regained his memories, then got the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, Raphael's siblings, to regain theirs. Now they're working on smoothing things over and reuniting Heaven and Hell.

Sicktember: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care, Curled Up With a Pet Whumptember: Lashing out Raphael just wanted five minutes to himself. That wasn't too much to ask, was it? After all, he was only one person (by a certain definition of person), and he could only do so much to reunite Heaven and Hell. But, of course, the first time he has a moment to breathe is when it all comes crashing down on his shoulders. Thank, well, not God, for Lilith.

can be read on AO3 or below the cut

Characters mentioned: (not necessary, but for context)

Raphael - Fallen Archangel, male. Not well-liked in Hell because he worked to thwart the Rebellion, and didn't Rebel. Legally blind.

Camael - Power, male. Raphael's partner from before his Fall, now his partner again after regaining his memory.

Michael - Raphael and Gabriel's sister, the first angel ever made. Leader of Heaven's army. Secondary leader of Heaven. Female.

Gabriel - Raphael and Michael's little brother, the third angel ever made. Leader of Heaven's army, messenger of Heaven. Male.

Berith - Fallen Virtue, now a Duke of Hell. One of the eight Fallen that guard the entrance and exit to Hell. Raphael's boss. Male.

Asmodeus - Fallen Cherub, now a King of Hell. One of the eight Fallen that guard the entrance and exit to Hell. Infamously lecherous. Male.

Lilith - Adam's first wife, Fell for refusing to obey him. Became close friends after Raphael took her under his wing. Female.

Lethe - Fallen Seraph. A relative nobody in Heaven, but a great Inventor. Turned into a humanoid water-monster in her Fall, guardian of the River Lethe. Close friend of Raphael. Female.

Agares - Fallen Power, now a Duke of Hell, with a massive grudge against Raphael. Male.

Rasiel - Angel. Therapist of Heaven. Was one of the angels who threw Raphael out of Heaven after being manipulated. Deeply regrets it. Male.

Kundaniel - Throne. Archivist. Female.

Andras - Fallen Principality, now a Marquis. One of the eight Fallen that guard the entrance and exit to Hell. Female.

Jehoel - Dominion, female. Uncertain on reuniting Heaven and Hell.

Terms, etc.:

Sphere - There are nine ranks of angel, each with a different title and duty. The higher the rank, the more powerful.

Hell's Hierarchy - A ranking system implemented by Lucifer in an attempt at creating order in Hell. Having a higher title doesn't mean the Fallen is more powerful, but they have more clout and, often, more Fallen and demons under their command.

Raphael, if he could, did all he could to stay out of Hell.

By and large, he did well. Having a phone now, Berith could text or call if he needed him. Lilith and Lethe handled wrangling the Fallen well, in convincing them to put out, and accept, olive branches to Heaven. In fact, it was best he stayed out of their way; time didn’t flow the same in Hell as it did on Creation, but it had still been aeons since the Fall, and he was still hated. If he was the one trying to unite Hell’s half of Heaven and Hell, it would go very poorly, very quickly.

That didn’t mean he was sitting on his ass, though.

Lilith knew nothing of Heaven, having been human before her Fall. And it was so easy to forget that, with how quickly she’d taken to Hell, nothing more than a duck to water. But he had to teach her about Heaven, and he found there was so much to teach. So much that he took for granted, social graces that came to him naturally, for all he’d never been particularly extroverted, left her floundering. That she had no ranking - that she was no Virtue, no Dominion nor Power nor Principality nor Virtue nor even Angel, caught him up too. Because Heaven, for all it tried to be equal, still relied on its ranks. The Dominions mentored even young Seraphim, Angels did tasks for everyone else. Romances and friendships spanned all Spheres, but everyone was well aware of what they were, and what everyone else was capable of.

A Virtue, even if only a single rank higher than a Power, was undeniably more powerful than a Power. Perhaps not stronger, but their divinity carried more of a punch, and they could do more with it. And a Power was more, well, powerful than a Principality.

So finding where Lilith fit into that threw him. Ranks were causing far more trouble than any of them had expected.

Because it wasn’t just Lilith who lacked a rank. The demons - those who’d never known Heaven, who’d been borne of Hell, not of Eden or Creation - didn’t either. None of them did, not even in Hell. Lucifer had never ranked even the most powerful of them, the most accomplished.

And that, too, was a problem. Not just in where the Fallen stood - was a Fallen Virtue to be treated the same as a Virtue in the Host? Or should they be treated as a Power, a Principality? As punishment for Rebelling so long ago? But then that would cause strife because no Fallen would accept being treated as lesser.

But Hell had its system now, too. It didn’t affect how powerful they were, as Heaven’s did. But they were treated in Hell as if they did, given control over legions of Hellish beings. Agares had been a Power before his Fall, stronger only than Principalities, Archangels, and Angels, weaker than the five other ranks. But in Hell, he’d been made a Duke, the second most powerful of the eight titles. Nine, if you counted those who had no title. Ten, if you counted the Grigori, who stood apart. Should he be treated as a middling Power? Or as something more powerful?

Raphael, Michael, and Gabriel were pulling their hair out over it.

And building relationships back with Heaven… well, that wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, either. Angels who got their memories back, realizing the Fallen they’d fought with, even killed, were angels they’d known once. Sometimes they’d been parental figures, older sibling figures, friends, or romantic partners. Other times they’d been child figures, in the case of Dominions who’d killed their charges, or little-sibling figures. Rasiel, as great as he was (as much as Raphael hated to admit it), could only help so many angels at once. And Raphael, apparently, was becoming the go-to for couples, or friends, or similar, who’d reunited and needed advice. After all, he and Camael had managed, so couldn’t he help them?

Every time he stepped foot in Heaven, it felt like he was being swarmed. And considering how isolated he’d been for the last… how many years? It had been over four and a half billion years on Earth, but time didn’t flow the same in Hell, and they didn’t perceive it the same besides, but that was still a damn long time. It was making him want to shove the next angel, Fallen, demon, human, or otherwise, who walked up to him and asked if he ‘had a moment’.

He’d have a fit, is what he’d have.

He loved spending time with his siblings, of course, and Camael, and catching up with them. It had been a very long time, after all. And Rasiel was doing all he could to make it up to him. Raphael couldn’t be prouder of his students; they’d all really come into their own. He was enjoying getting to know all the new angels who’d been made to heal - a good thing, seeing as Heaven had only grown larger and larger.

Going into Hell, though. Well, Creation wasn’t safe. Humans could be dangerous in their own way, and Creation had its own dangers; animals, of course, and nature itself. He still had nightmares of Pompeii. And Heaven wasn’t, either. There were more than a few angels who weren’t happy about Heaven and Hell reuniting. Though they’d tried, neither he, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, or Camael had been able to work out why some of them Fell but others didn’t.

But Hell was still Hell. Hellhounds that reached his hip on the hunt, imps swarming to feast, Damned souls suffering. And, of course, Fallen taking out their hurts on others.

Hell (pun unintended), some Fallen weren’t even taking their hurts out on others. They’d had a very long time to get used to it. But that was just ‘how it’s done’, so they’d kept doing it. And the demons had followed in their stead. So, though not with the same fervor as they once had, many Fallen and demons made Hell treacherous.

Still, Raphael did have to go down to Hell sometimes. To meet with Lethe when she didn’t come up to see him. She’d tried to get a phone but kept breaking them when she forgot to put them somewhere safe before diving into her river. And imps were as far from reliable letter carriers as you could get. To meet with Lilith, when Hell’s notoriously faulty phone service failed them.

Or, like now, when he couldn’t find something he knew he had. He’d searched everywhere it could be in Heaven, which wasn’t many because he usually only brought himself Up. Had scoured his apartment, which hadn’t taken long, as spartan as he kept it. Had searched every one of his pocket dimensions, and hadn’t found the scrolls he needed. He’d even had Camael check his apartment, though there was no reason he’d have ever brought them over there.

He didn’t even know the contents of the scrolls, which he’d found and kept on a whim back in the days of the Achaemenid Empire. But Kundaniel was near-desperate for them, whatever they were.

There was only one other place he kept things, so he’d made his way through Hell. Well, that he kept things and knew where they were. He was pretty bad about losing things, but even he wasn’t bad enough to lose an armful of scrolls. Asmodeus had clung to him like a bad smell, as he always did, so it had been hours before he’d even gotten past the Guards. Andras, as always, was no help, only encouraging him.

Every time, he forgot how draining it was. Having to sneak on edge more than ever, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t followed. He hadn’t guarded the location of his home so jealously for so long just to have it found out by being inattentive.

The cave, he’d sworn when he’d settled in it, would never become home. But it had, in a way. In its familiarity, in the softness of his star-woven rug. In its illusion of safety, until he’d found those sigils that made it truly safe. Still, it didn’t hold a candle to his apartment now, with Camael not far away, fairy lights strung across the walls, and made perfect for his faulty eyesight.

The sigils, he noted as he sidled into the cave, needed to be touched up. If they wore away much more, they’d start letting in imps and lesser dangers.

Raphael took a deep breath as he stepped into his cave, looking around. It had been a while since he’d come to it, and he’d forgotten that he’d left it in a rush. His rug lay in a heap, constellations twinkling awkwardly. A pair of boots, in the fashion popular in the 60s, slumped against the far wall—he’d been intending on storing them, as he’d found them comfortable, but forgotten to. Next to them was a dirtied muslin gown he’d been attempting (rather poorly) to darn, dropped to the dirt in his hurry. He grimaced, looking around.

That damn ushabti laid in the center of the room, though he’d swear he’d stashed it away.

The cave wasn’t big enough for him to see particularly well - he could only really make out the edges of it - but the scrolls would have stuck out like a sore thumb. Even he could make out smears of tan against brown dirt.

He sighed again, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

Where were the fucking scrolls?

Who lost scrolls? Who lost two-thousand-year-old scrolls?

Him, apparently.

“Fuck.”

Could one thing go right? He’d fumbled talking to Jehoel, Asmodeus had managed to cop a feel, he was fairly certain Michael was beginning to realize he couldn’t, in fact, see her seeing as he’d tripped over a polearm that had fallen but was, apparently, very visible. ‘Are you fucking blind?’ Had been Gabriel’s laughing words, but Michael, who was positioned just right for Raphael to be able to see her with absolute clarity, had had a look on her face he didn’t like. Camael, he was certain, was starting to realize something wasn’t right. Raphael had been stupid enough to stop paying so much attention in his apartment. Camael, for all he liked new things, loved familiarity; he’d had stainless steel, white everything, and glass tables since when neon was all the rage for house colors, and Raphael had never known him to get a new piece of furniture. Like Raphael, he moved every decade or so before anyone could start noticing his lack of aging. Even still, almost every apartment was laid out the same way.

So he’d been shocked when, looking at Camael as he talked, he’d stepped where he knew clear floor to be and felt the corner of the coffee table strike his shin. He’d fallen spectacularly, only able to be thankful that he’d landed off the table instead of on it because that would surely have been far more painful.

This was why he hated glass furniture.

Then again, if this was what came of using all his luck to get his family back, he wouldn’t complain. He’d take bad luck for the rest of his life if he had to.

The sigils flared an alert against his consciousness as he heard dirt shifting behind him. There wasn’t a sound of pain or a feeling of alarm, so he closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

“Hey Raphi,” Lilith said. He opened his eyes and stared at the far wall, then turned to greet her. He’d almost hoped it was someone with intent on harming him.

“Hey,” he said, perhaps a bit too harshly.

“You have a minute?” She asked, wiping dirt off her jeans.

Did he have a moment?

“Do I-?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do I have a moment?” Lilith stared at him in obvious confusion. “Do I have a moment?” His voice rose in volume.

“I only have to figure out how to get Asmodeus not to act like a Goddamned nymphomaniac because angels are complaining, Berith to act like a person because he’s freaking people out, work out the ranks, figure out who the Hell keeps setting shit on fire in Heaven, figure out who keeps sending me holy water, get Agares off my back, play counselor to half of Heaven and Hell, and find these damn scrolls I couldn’t care less about! Yeah, I have all the time in the fucking world!”

Lilith blinked at him, wide-eyed. The chihuahua-shaped hellhounds at her feet shivered, but they always did that. “Well,” she finally said, “tell me how you really feel.”

His face flushed an ugly, blotchy silver. To keep from saying something he would certainly regret, or doing something he would certainly regret (he was getting better at thinking before he acted, Camael would be very proud of him), he spun on his heel and stalked to the center of the room.

Or maybe not, because he snapped “How I really feel?” He stooped, picking up the ushabti with his bare hands. The holy object met his skin with a sound like meat thrown on a hot, greased pan, and Lilith lurched towards him with an alarmed sound. “I feel like everyone should leave me the Hell alone for five damn minutes!”

Lilith smacked the ushabti out of his hand, sending it skittering across the dirt. “Are you insane?” She unpeeled his clenched fingers, hissing when steam rose from his blistering hand.

Canines elongating, he snarled.

“Just because you’re pissy doesn’t mean you can go off at me, damn!” Lilith scowled at him. “Or pick up something blessed with bare hands. You think you’re going to be useful to anyone without a hand?”

He tried to pull his hand away, but she had a very tight grip. She flicked her talons out, digging them into his flesh in warning. “You’re not going to be useful to anyone if you snap, you know. You need to take a break.”

Her brown eyes met his, and he had to look away. “A break? When do I have time for that?”

“You have to make time.” With that, he yelped as she shoved him away. His balance already precarious, he tripped. Bracing for a painful landing, he was startled to find himself landing on a pile of - were those furs? Animal pelts? Who still used animal pelt piles? Even in Hell, they’d largely made the switchover to sleeping bags, cots, and futons.

He blinked up at her owlishly. Before he could do more than push up onto his elbows, beginning to say “What’s wrong with you?”, she stooped down, picking up Momo.

Oh no.

Raphael hated many things. What humans had done to isicia omentata. Rome. Loud noises and bright lights. Dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. Things that felt goopy. Fake tans. The word ‘supple’ in English, ‘dedo do pé’ in Portuguese, and ‘brustwarze’ in German. Horses. Clowns (they were just rip-offs of jesters. Jesters were better and looked less terrifying). Palm trees.

But he hated Momo and Nina, worst of all.

They were hellhounds, which meant he didn’t like them on principle. Hellhounds were nasty creatures, with a tendency to bite first and ask questions never. And they confused him. They confused all of Hell, actually. While she considered Momo male and Nina female, Hellhounds were sexless. No one knew how they reproduced, they just did. One day you had one, the next you had the one and a pack of hellfire-eyed, stone-toothed puppies with less self-control than regular dog puppies.

When you compressed that into a form small enough that a child could punt it and spoiled it out of Hell, you ended up with a hellhound that felt the need to prove itself. Or, in their case, two.

Nasty things, but she loved them to death. He’d been the one to help her pick them out of a litter they’d found in a cave, and he’d regretted it ever since.

Raphael scrambled to stand, but she was faster. Momo landed on his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs. He froze - that little face was innocent, muzzle short and blunt, eyes wide and round, ears comically large, and Lilith kept his long, brown and white fur immaculate. But those teeth were far too long and far too sharp, and there was too much red in those brown eyes. Lilith let them nap in her lap for hours, but he’d seen how suddenly they could move, and how quickly they could cover ground. Of the many things he’d seen in his long life, Nina going from a dead sleep to ripping open an imp twenty feet down the tunnel was one of the scariest. He wouldn’t have time to twitch before Momo’s teeth were buried in his throat.

Momo plopped his butt down, plume-like tail wagging.

“Phone,” Lilith demanded, holding out her hand.

He refused to look away from Momo’s unblinking eyes. “What?”

“Give me your phone. You need a break. I’m getting you one.”

“I’m not-”

She stooped down, still holding out her hand. Raphael whimpered when she straightened, holding Nina threateningly in her other hand.

“Phone,” she said, grinning. His fear of them was a never-ending source of amusement for her. Nina yipped, wriggling, paddling her hind legs where they dangled. The light that came off the single torch in his cave shone oddly against her blueish, brown-orange and white, disturbingly short fur.

Raphael whimpered in horror as Momo leaned forward to lick his chin.

“I know your phone has voice… whatever it’s called. I’m not afraid to use it. You want me to call them through your pants?”

She stretched out her arm, dangling Nina over him.

Raphael gave her his phone.

Nina landed in his lap. He yelped, going rigid, as she circled to get comfortable. Her pin-prick nails dug into his legs.

He yelped, startled, as Lilith flopped down onto the furs beside him. “Your phone makes me sad,” she said, flicking between Michael, Gabriel, and Camael’s contacts. “You need to add stickers, or a nice case, or a keychain. Just, make it look less like an old man phone?”

“’s not an old man phone,” Raphael grumbled. Even if it was, wasn’t he technically an old man? But he liked his phone. It was black and white and plain and sturdy. It didn’t have any of those ridiculous extra things people added. Who needed pop-out things on the back? Or sparkly cases? Just seemed a waste of time and money to him. “I like it.”

He went cross-eyed as, Nina having curled up in his lap, Momo leaned forward to lick his nose.

“You make me sad,” Lilith said.

Lilith told him that a lot.

“Now lie down,” she pushed down on his chest. He went down with a grunt. Momo flopped forward, curling up on his chest, and immediately began to snore. Smoke puffed from his nostrils with every breath in time with the smoke pluming from Nina’s, like she were some tiny dragon.

“You are going to sleep,” Lilith said, twisting to rest her head on his shoulder, pinning him down, “for at least a few hours. Then you are going to relax for a few days.”

“But-”

“Raph, you’re a dick when you’re stressed. You want to blow all this up because someone asked you for a moment when you were trying to take a break? Angels are already trying to prove we’re not safe to be around.”

She did have a point. He sighed. Momo grunted, squirming to get comfortable. His nails dug into Raphael’s chest to hold him still.

“I don’t like you.”

Lilith grinned, knowing she’d won. “Love you too.” She flicked to Michael’s contact (that they had become fast friends worried him. They could take over Heaven, Hell, and Creation if they put their heads together) and pressed call.

He had a pocket-sized apex predator on his chest and another on his lap.

How she expected him to sleep, he had no idea.

[autobot2001]

You Deserve This

Sicktember one-shot 6/6

Fandom: Transformers Characters: Lily (OC), Sideswipe, Sunstreaker Prompts: Day 16; Consulting the Internet/Web MD, Day 19; curled up with a pet, Day 20; cramping pain, Day 25; confused/ disoriented Warning: None

"Bring him to my house," Lily tells Sunstreaker, "no one else will be here all weekend. You could tell Prowl you and Sideswipe decided to stay at my house." "I'm not sure if that'll work. We'll be there in ten minutes." Lily rushes to prepare the guest bedroom and her room for the twins. Uncertain if Sunstreaker wants to stay with his drunk brother overnight.

Sunstreaker couldn't believe how drunk Sideswipe is. Usually, his brother doesn't drink enough to get drunk. He watches Sideswipe struggle to walk. "Come on, I'm taking you to Lily's house." Sideswipe complains while stumbling.

Lily couldn't believe how drunk Sideswipe is. Is Sunstreaker holding him up or supporting him? She shows the brothers the guest room. Sunstreaker argues with Sideswipe to get him to take his boots off and get into bed. "Oh, I can't wait for you to deal with tomorrow's aftermath."

"He's going to be fun tomorrow," Sunstreaker comments, "maybe he'll learn not to drink so much. I have no idea how much he had. At least he called me." "Oh boy, I can hear Prowl yelling if he finds out." The two go to sleep.

Sideswipe wakes up with a list of symptoms of a hangover. He's tired, but also his dry mouth has him thinking he needs to get water. He tries to get out of bed, but the room is spinning. "Frag," he mumbles as he lies down "Stupid fragger!" Sunstreaker scolds. "Go away," Sideswipe whines. "Fine." Sideswipe hears Sunstreaker leave. He tries to sleep.

Just as he's about to fall asleep, someone headbutts him. "What the —?" Sideswipe realizes that it was a cat headbutting him. Sideswipe tries to get out of bed, but sitting up is challenging. He sees Sunstreaker left water and pain relief. He takes the pills and lies back in bed. He didn't think the cat would lie beside him, though not under the blankets. The cat starts purring. "Awe," Sideswipe hears Lily, "good kitty. We'll be downstairs if you get out of bed." "Hey, just wait until you're old enough to drink." Lily laughs as she leaves the room. The cat falls asleep with Sideswipe.

"… we'll be back tomorrow," Lily hears Sunstreaker as she goes downstairs, "well, Sideswipe likely won't be in trouble." "Awe, but now you're here. You could stay until Monday." "Oh, come on, Lily, I would have come over if you asked, and so would have Sideswipe." Sunstreaker hugs Lily. Lily decides to go back upstairs, curious if Sideswipe and her cat are sleeping. Sunstreaker waits for Lily, uncertain what she's doing. He didn't think he'd be shown a picture of Sideswipe and Lily's cat. He's not surprised Lily asks that the two paint the photo she took. "Painting from a photo is still weird but fun," Lily comments.

Sideswipe wakes up feeling better. He gets his phone that's on the bed, seeing it's two in the afternoon. The cat is not happy he got out of bed. "I don't want to get out of bed either. Sunstreaker is likely pissed." Sideswipe goes downstairs, not looking forward to seeing his brother.

Sideswipe thought he could sneak into the kitchen until he's slammed into the wall. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have been in?!" Sunstreaker scolds, "what if they called the police?!" "I was having fun." Sunstreaker slaps Sideswipe. "I should have taken you back to the bar to get yelled at. Then maybe you'd learn!" "Ok, Sunstreaker, he gets it," Lily argues. "I don't think he does, but fine!" Sunstreaker lets Sideswipe go. Sideswipe goes into the kitchen.

Sideswipe gets food but goes back upstairs to avoid Sunstreaker. Though he doubts he'll be able to until Monday. He can't leave now since his alt mode is still at the club.

The cat is happy to see Sideswipe returned and demands to be patted as Sideswipe eats. I could take a bus to the club and get my alt mode now. Sideswipe thinks. I'll still be dealing with Sunstreaker whether I leave now or not.

Lily is worried about how hard Sunstreaker will be on Sideswipe. She believes Sideswipe is being punished enough with the hangover. Add what Sunstreaker just did. "I think he learned to be careful when drinking," Lily argues. "Maybe, and next time, maybe I won't be nice and bring him here. I hope you'll be responsible when you can drink."

The hangover symptom worsens as the pain relief wears off at four in the afternoon. Sunstreaker is concerned seeing Sideswipe's struggle to sit up. Ah, frag, I hope we don't need to call Ratchet. Sunstreaker searches hangovers on the internet. Knowing he's possibly risking Sideswipe's health by not contacting Ratchet. What he reads has him partially believing Sideswipe is ok. He decides to watch Sideswipe for the concerning signs of something more serious. For now, Sunstreaker gets Sideswipe water. The three decide to order Uber Eats. Sideswipe just wants to go back to bed. "No, you need to eat," Sideswipe tries to find a way to deal with the returning headache, light sensitivity, and dizziness. Sideswipe rests his head on the arm of the vouch. The cat finds Sideswipe and rubs on him, "I think you have a friend." Sideswipe pats the cat but doesn't look at the cat.

Sideswipe struggles to eat. All he wants to do is go to bed. Sunstreaker decides half of what Sideswipe has is enough. He helps Sideswipe to bed.

Sunstreaker didn't know Lily followed them. "I don't know if he'll wake up, but we should leave these for him." Lily shows Sunstreaker she has a couple granola bars and water. "He could be asleep all night, but good idea." Lily puts the items on the nightstand and leaves the room with Sunstreaker. The cat jumps on the bed and gets comfortable next to Sideswipe. "Good cat," Sideswipe pats the cat and falls asleep.

Sideswipe wakes up at six in the morning, feeling much better. He knows Lily and Sunstreaker aren't up. He eats what Lily left for him and pats the cat. Sideswipe didn't think he'd fall asleep until he sees it's ten fifteen on his phone. His cat friend isn't around. Sideswipe takes a shower before going downstairs.

Lily and Sunstreaker are eating breakfast when Sideswipe gets downstairs. "Feeling better?" Lily asks. "Yes," Sideswipe replies, not hiding that he's not looking forward to dealing with Sunstreaker. "Leave him alone. He's been punished enough," Lily insists. Sunstreaker doesn't say anything as the three eat. They decide to stay at the house until three. That's when the twins will go back to the base. No one there will know what happened Friday night that led the brothers to stay at Lily's house.

[newwwwusername]

Fic title : This Weight On My Chest Isn't So Scary When It's You

@sicktember 2023 prompt : Curled Up With a Pet

Rating : General Audiences

Fandom : Girl, Interrupted (1999 Movie)

Pairing : Polly & Ruby

Additional tags : Pets, Cats, Chronic Pain, Trauma, Burns, Scars, Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Animals

Word count : 181

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Uneasy Domesticity - Benji Dunn/Ilsa Faust

A/N: Day 19 bonus fic 1 for @sicktember

“Benji….” Ilsa’s voice is a caress even as she leans to let her lips brush his ear, slipping into his lap like it’s easy, like she’s not still aware how delicate their new, comfortable, life is. “Julia already checked you over… these hypochondriac tendencies have to go Love… for my sake if nothing else.” Benji’s sigh is soft, his voice low as he looks up at her, barely holding back from kissing her, their lips inches apart. “I saw you die, Ils…. Am I not allowed to… to find peace with this? Keeping you here?” “Benji…” Her kiss is soft, firmly possessive. “I’m not leaving, not anytime soon…. Go back to work… before Ethan actually does kill me.”

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 19

#19- Hypochondriac Tendencies

Something was off. Tony was sure of it.

Yes, he’d been working on repairs to the Mark 48 before the next Avengers emergency, and trying to troubleshoot the issues with the new Starkphone for R&D, and figure out how to tweak the graphic card for their latest gaming computer simply because Peter thought it was so cool, and yes, he’d been hunched over a workbench for the better part of four hours, but this felt different.

He cast a quick glance at his wrist, intent on checking his vitals one more time via his watch, but the screen showed nothing but the time. 1:17pm.  

“What the hell, FRIDAY?” Tony called out as he pulled off the watch. “What’s this?”

“It would appear to be your most current incarnation of the Starkwatch, Boss.”

Tony exhaled slowly. He would forever regret the personality algorithms he’d slaved over for FRI. “Alright, smartass, if we’re going to play the game, my watch has stopped transmitting my stats. Do me a solid and run a diagnostic on it, would you?”

If Tony hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn there was an uncomfortable pause.

“I’m sorry, Boss.” FRIDAY replied. “Your watch is completely functional. Ms. Potts has reimplemented the “Tony Is Trying To Make Stuff Up To Get Out of Another Board Meeting” protocol and has locked down your health tracker until further notice.”

Tony scowled. “Again? I swear—I never should’ve given her that kind of access.” he grumped. “And what kind of shit name for a protocol is that anyways?”

“It’s the name Ms. Potts provided, sir.”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes and squeezed the back of his neck with his hand to provide some relief. “Just—I thought I was doing better. How long am I locked out for this time?”

“Ms. Potts has specified that the lockout run a full forty-eight hour period, sir.”

“And how many times did I actually check to deserve this?” He was almost afraid to find out.

“You’ve accessed your pulse, blood pressure, and heart rate monitor fifteen times since you entered your lab at 9:57am, sir. That, coupled with meetings set in your calendar, triggered an automatic denial of access per the protocol and Ms. Potts has been notified.”

“Perfect.” Tony bit out as he picked up a screwdriver from his workbench and whipped it across the room and into a table of scrap parts Peter would usually scavenge through for his projects. It was very seldom that he lost control like that, but sometimes Pepper wouldn’t listen and... “I keep trying to explain—!” Tony started then stopped before starting again, “I mean, what happens if I decide to have a stroke and die during the lockout?” Not that Tony expected something like that to happen, but the frustration at her lack of understanding was almost too much. He was sure she’d understood when he’d first told her, instead—

“Boss. There is a recorded message that I have been instructed to play in the event that you do trigger this particular protocol. Would you like the audio version or—”

Tony paused, then realized what FRIDAY had just said, “Hang on. What do you mean, ‘this particular protocol?’ Are there more?”

“Yes, Boss. There are three other protocols in play—”

“Nope!” Tony waved his hands in air, basically shutting FRIDAY up. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done. But I swear, FRI, if something happens, on your head be it.”

“As you wish, thought it should be noted that you did not provide me with a head, Boss, and I’ve queued the audio clip. Would you like me to play it for you now?”

Tony dropped his head in defeat. “Sure thing, just keep the volume reeeeeal low, okay?”

“Understood.” FRIDAY replied. “And, if this is any comfort to you, in the event that you do lose consciousness anywhere on Stark Industries property, I can notify emergency medical personnel immediately.”

“Gee, that makes me feel so much better,” Tony snarked. “Or I could just, you know, have access to a vital feature on my own personal device.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to discuss that with Ms. Potts.” FRIDAY stated as a matter of fact. “But while the audio message is playing, I am also to remind you that your presence is required in Ms. Potts’ office at two o’clock this afternoon for a progress check-in with the various team leaders for the Research and Development Department.”

Tony glanced over to his work bench and the projects screaming for completion. “Perfect.”

“As well, today is ‘lab day’ and Mr. Parker is expected to arrive at the tower at four o’clock.  Would you like me to place your standard pizza delivery at an appropriate hour, or would you prefer for Mr. Parker to choose something when he arrives this afternoon?”

Tony perked up immediately at the mention of his favourite teenager.  “Is it Tuesday already? Hot damn! Maybe I’ll be able to force myself to get through this meeting after all! Four o’clock, you said?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“An end to this miserable day is in sight! Yes! And I think I’m feeling a little cheeseburgery today. Why don’t you order something for us from that little diner Pete’s scary friend likes instead of pizza? Grab an extra couple of orders of fries and a chocolate milkshake so he can dip ‘em like the weirdo he is, too. Got it?”

“Got it, Boss.”

Tony glanced at his near useless watch. 1:33pm. There was just enough time to deal with the Starkphone before Pepper jumped down his throat again.

And at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

/-/-/

While he wasn’t one hundred percent positive, Tony was pretty sure he was dying. All he had to do was keep upright in the elevator, get back to the lab and breathe a little and hopefully things would settle like they had the last time Tony’d had a—

Nope.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists did not have—

The elevator door opened and he stumbled out, loosening his tie and taking off his sunglasses as he approached the door. He pressed a thumb to the biometric scanner and almost wept when he heard the lock disengage. He could make his way across the lab to the couch, lie down for a bit, try to figure out how he could make the laundry list of impossible tasks that the R&D folks were demanding of him happen even though he was the freakin’ boss while also figuring out how to manage his Avengers tasks as the decidedly not-boss and then let his body figure out how in the ever lovin’ hell it was supposed to draw in oxygen again.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Shit!” Tony clutched his chest as he flinched and lost his balance as he threw himself back into the workbench he’d been set at only hours before and knocking the components of his Mark 48 onto the floor. The clatter had Peter ducking for cover while covering his ears against the crash.

It registered a beat too late.

Peter. 

He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t see Tony—not like this!

But it was too late. Peter knew.

The boy approached his mentor tentatively. “Uh, Mr. Stark? Are you okay?”

And wasn’t that the question of the hour?

Tony fumbled with the sunglasses still in his hand, trying to put them on but gave it up when he realized his hands were shaking too much. Instead, he simply plastered on his ‘Tony Stark Media Star’ smile and stuffed his hands in his suit jacket pockets. “I’m fine,” he answered in a totally convincing, not weird at all sort of way.

“Are you sure?” Peter gave Tony a once over. “You’re looking a little—funny?”

“Ouch,” Tony patted his chest, played up to the bit, “way to get me right here, kid. I’ll have you know I’ve been on People’s ‘Sexiest’ list for twelve years running.”

“Be serious, Mr. Stark.” Peter stared, unimpressed.

“Bigger ouch. Tough crowd.”

Peter crossed his arms and waited for an explanation, and when none came, he spoke up again. “I know you think it’s creepy when I do this, and I’m really sorry about it, but, uh, your heart rate is sorta’ fast. Have you had Ms. FRIDAY scan you yet today?”

Tony’s faux-grin dropped and he shook his head, ‘no.’ “What do you mean exactly?” Of course his heart was racing, but what if Peter had heard something else?

Peter shrugged, “I’m not sure what I’m hearing, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied. “Ms. FRIDAY?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I am unable to access the protocols necessary to do as you’ve requested. I could suggest bringing Boss up to the med bay for evaluation if you are concerned.”

Peter didn’t bother to ask why the AI couldn’t do something she was more than capable of on any other occasion. And Peter knew Mr. Stark well enough that he would not appreciate being dragged all over the tower and risk being seen. No way. But Mr. Stark needed help and Peter was apparently the only one who could offer it.

He scanned the lab, looking for anything. The AED was sitting prominently on the wall next to the wash station, but that wouldn’t do them any good. And the first-aid kit was stocked to the gills with anything one would want or need for burns, bruises, stitches, and anything else that a little gauze and tape could patch up, but this?

And then his eyes fell on his backpack. “Got it!” he exclaimed, and then Peter was across the room, tossing textbooks and notebooks out of the bag and onto the floor so he could grab his mask and put it on.

“What? What are you--?” Tony panted out as he gave up on pretending.

Peter tugged up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and fussed with his own official Stark brand wristwatch for a few seconds before it came off then pressed it to Tony’s wrist. “Karen, can you take a comprehensive reading for me, please? Tell me what we’re dealin’ with?”

Tony almost sagged in relief. Such a clever boy.

Tony couldn’t hear her reply. “Of course, Peter.”   

The two stood awkwardly together while Peter listened to Karen’s diagnostic results and then Peter offered a, “Thanks, Karen,” then put his watch back on and pulled off the mask.

Tony was still trying to get his breathing under control.

Peter waited a second before he said anything, and then blurted out, “Did you know that butterflies can taste with their feet, Mr. Stark?”

Tony blinked, played back what the kid had said in his head and then blinked again. “What?”

“Yeah, they use something called chemoreceptors. Apparently it helps them identify plants.” Peter said, completely sincere in his offering. “Cool, huh?”

Tony thought about it before he drew in a bigger breath and answered back, “I guess so?”

“And owls don’t have eyeballs—they have eye tubes.”

Tony just shook his head. “That sounds kinda’ gross, kid. I call bullshit.”

Peter paused for a second and shrugged. “Maybe? MJ had us all looking up weird animal facts in the cafeteria at lunch today and there was a list. Now that I think about it, I should be doing a better about confirming stuff like that before spreading it around.” Peter tossed his mask over to the backpack where the rest of his suit was hiding, then pulled his phone out. “Wanna check on the owls while I do the butterflies?”

Tony didn’t have the energy to do much else. “Sure.” At least his hands weren’t shaking as much when he pulled his own phone out.

They made their way the few steps to the couch and sat in what had fast become their designated ends and became absorbed in their tasks. Not that it took long for them to find what they’d been looking for.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tony muttered. “Eye tubes are apparently a thing?”

Peter popped his phone back into his pocket, “And so are tasting feet. Nature is weird.”

“Agreed. I’ll take metal and tech over eye tubes any day of the week.”

 And then neither of them said anything... until Peter broke the silence a few minutes later.

“Do we need to run a diagnostic on Ms. FRIDAY, tonight?” he finally asked. “I mean, she should have caught that, right?”

Tony sighed and let out a long, slow breath. “FRIDAY is working just fine, kiddo.” Tony put an arm around Peter’s shoulder to reassure him and leaned back into the couch. “I imagine Pepper got a little frustrated with my insanity and figured she needed to shut me and my hypochondriac tendencies down.”

Peter had to process that for a second. “Uh, but you literally just needed FRIDAY and you couldn’t access her? Wouldn’t that mean that she’s actually trying to kill you?”

Tony barked out a laugh. “No, Pete. I’m pretty sure she’s just pissed off, though we’ll definitely need to have a chat about adjusting some parameters, I think.”

They got quiet again, and then, “Well, pissed off or not, that wasn’t very kind of her.” Peter slapped a hand over his mouth as he expressed an opinion he had no business in holding.

“It’s okay, Roo. Right now, I don’t disagree.” Tony closed his eyes as he melted further back. Panic attacks took a lot out of him. “But I can understand where she’s coming from, I guess. I have a job to do—and it’s not like I haven’t given her reasons to get irritated with my ‘behaviour’ in the past.”

Peter didn’t look impressed. “If she loves you, it shouldn’t matter.”

This kid was too pure. “Nah,” Tony opened his eyes and tilted his head to look over at him. “Even I can agree that I’m a little much sometimes... and by a little, I mean even my parents didn’t really like me so I’ll take what I can get when I can.” Tony chuckled at his own joke.

“Mr. Stark!” The indignance on Peter’s face, that someone couldn’t love their own child. “No way! I don’t believe you! And even if I did believe you, that doesn’t justify—”

Tony put a hand up to halt the tirade he was working up to. “Kid, you’ve read the biography, right?”

Peter nodded, ‘yes.’

“So you know Pep has been dealing with my crazy for a long time. First, the palladium poisoning,” he started. “Granted, I was hiding the fact that I was technically dying from everyone but I’d been so diligent about tracking saturation points and trying to find a balance with my diet and anything else I could think of.” Tony huffed a laugh, “You know, it’s actually one of the reasons the Starkwatch was so ahead of the competitors when we’d first released it. I’d already done all the field testing for myself. Using it to buff up or tech marketing was a no brainer, and Pepper was happy.”

“But—”

“Peter.” Tony cut him off yet again. “It’s okay. I haven’t even gotten started about these damned panic attacks.”

Peter did not think any of this was okay. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, obviously thinking of what he was going to say next.

That it bothered Peter so much bothered Tony more than he’d thought it could. “It’s really, well... I’m fine now—and this is all stuff for the grownups to deal with anyways.”

Peter glared. “I’m fifteen,” his cheeks flushed, “and I know what it’s like to be scared for reasons that make sense and still make no sense at all.”

Tony saw that this wasn’t sitting well with Peter, and he was working himself up to say something important, so Tony bit his tongue.

Peter Benjamin Parker had the floor.

“When I was little, I had a really hard time after my parents died.” Peter blurted out. “Like, a ���I wouldn’t leave May or Uncle Ben because I was afraid they’d die if they left my sight’ kind of hard time.” His eyes widened in his own panic as he realized what he’d just blurted out.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tony said softly, sitting forward to give the kid his full attention now that he could draw a full breath.

“Yeah, thanks,” Peter almost brushed the condolences off. “But there’s more. You see, Aunt May had a nurse friend who’d been gifted a new stethoscope by her family. Aunt May had told her friend about me and what was goin’ on, and between the two of ‘em, they came up with a plan. The friend gave Aunt May her old stethoscope for me to use, so I could double check that everyone I worried about was okay whenever I was scared.”

Tony’s heart melted a little. This poor kid. “Peter.”

But Peter shook his head to stop him and shrugged. “It’s okay now, I promise.” He said it in such a way that Tony wondered if it wasn’t really, but Peter kept going, “I’m just thinkin’ what it would have been like if someone decided that I was being dumb and needed to be done checking on everyone before I was ready to stop on my own, is all. So I get it.”

Huh.

“Besides, panic attacks are no joke, and maybe Ms. FRIDAY would have caught it earlier if you were being monitored?”

 He wasn’t wrong.

“Just—It bugs me that it happened, and I’m sorry that someone did that to you, and I’m especially glad I could loan you my stethoscope today.” Peter bumped into his mentor affectionately. “Have I mentioned how much I love my steth—I mean AI lately?”

And Tony’s heart swelled at the sincere affection.

... Maybe it was time to have a different kind of conversation with Pepper?

FRIDAY broke the moment when she spoke up, “Boss, your dinner delivery has just arrived in the lobby. Would you like me to have someone from security bring it up to you?”

Tony heaved what must have been his millionth sigh. “Yeah, FRI, thanks,” and then he looked over to Peter. “Wanna check out that graphics card I was telling you about after dinner?”

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Sicktember Day 19: Hypochondriac Tendencies - FNAF

“Try to calm down, sweetheart; you’ll make yourself sick,” Mummy had sighed, patting a damp cloth over Evan’s tear-streaked cheeks. Now, curled into a ball under his covers, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

His head was swimming with fatigue, his throat scratchy from sobbing, stomach twisting in knots of nausea whenever he dared to think about whatever was lurking. Straining to stay so still pained every muscle. His heart pounded with such speed that it hurt his ribs.

What if he really was sick? With his nose so stuffed with snot, it was a struggle to breathe. The monsters might not have to jump at him; they might just wait to see if he stopped breathing, or if his heart burst, or if he fell asleep and never woke up.

That thought was more terrifying to Evan than the shadows. Dead or alive, he couldn’t bear to be here one second longer. Hurling the covers aside, he pushed all of his precious oxygen into a wail and hoped it wouldn’t be his last.

“Mummy! Daddy!”

Tears and dark spots danced in his vision as his voice finally broke and the door swung open. No sign of Mum; apparently it was Daddy’s turn.

“It’s three in the morning,” he groused, rough with sleep, stumbling as Evan barreled into him. “Oof—what on earth’s the matter?”

“I can’t—I can’t—” he hiccupped hoarsely. “I f-feel sick, Daddy! I feel really, really bad!”

He didn’t miss the curse Daddy muttered under his breath but at least the hand that cupped his neck wasn’t too tight. “Alright then, let’s give you the onceover.”

Daddy would probably be angry if it turned out nothing was wrong but that was a risk Evan could take, so long as he wasn’t alone anymore.

[fortune-maiden]

Finally all prompts made up!

Now to fill today's prompt but I have no ideas for either this or any of the alts ^^"

(i have one tgcf idea but it might be a bit dark.....)

[somber-sapphic]

Hey! I was wondering if you would be down to do the sicktember (I already know my autocorrect is going to hate this 😂) but day 27 I think. The one with Marina x reader and Carina is sick. If not I totally understand

Taking Care of Her

〖Summary: Carina is sick and not doing a great job at being a patient.〗

〖Word Count: 1.1k〗

〖Pairing: Marina x Reader, Sick Carina〗

〖Notes: I absolutely can! Sorry it took me so long to respond to this one, I wanted to make sure I could have the req with the post. If anyone else has any sicktember prompts they want finished I'll link the post here and you can let me know :)) Apologies for the title, it's late and I cannot think of anything better.〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Carina, there’s no way you’re healthy enough to be here. Let me take you home, please.” You begged, hugging a clipboard to your chest as you watched your very sick girlfriend move about the on-call room. It was a slow day in the ER which left you time to chase her around instead of taking blood and treating patients. It also helped that April wanted Carina to go home as badly as you did. 

She had helped run clinic day with Maya and the rest of the crew of 19 a few days ago and had encountered the nasty flu that was going around. She’d actually been forced to deny one man a flu shot and sent him to the hospital to be evaluated by one of the ER docs. That night, she and Maya came home exhausted, making you regret not taking your day off to help them.

To make it up to them, you’d made them both a fancy bath with salts, candles, and scented candles. While they were relaxing in the bath you attempted to cook and when that failed you put in an order for the Italian place down the street. They had been incredibly thankful but Carina had practically fallen asleep in her plate of pasta, leading to an early night. 

The doctor had the next day off so you and Maya had gotten ready quietly around her and she was still asleep by the time the two of you got back that night. That was the first sign. 

There was evidence that she had gotten up, at least to eat lunch, but the fact that she would even consider sleeping the whole day worried you and your other girlfriend. The two of you let her sleep anyway, both of you hoping silently that she could fight off whatever was trying to take hold with a little extra rest. 

Of course, it didn’t. So here you were, trying to convince Carina that it was in her best interest to let you take her home instead of treating patients. There you were, blocking the exit to the on-call room prepared to shove Carina into a bed if that’s what it took. She had driven you there (a bad idea in hindsight) and you weren't sure how long it would take for Maya to get there to pick you up. 

“Y/n, I have mothers waiting for me preparing to push tiny humans out of their bodies. What they are preparing to go to is far worse than this little cold.” She insisted, bringing it back to the mothers yet again. Throughout the whole argument, she had stood firm that she needed to be fine because her patients were not. 

“Come on Car, you have to know that's a stupid point. What if you get them sick? What if you get the babies sick? Masks are great but they aren’t foolproof, what would happen then?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow at her. The woman’s face went a shade paler, something you didn't realize was possible, and she faltered slightly. 

“But, it's my job. Another doctor won't know them like I do, they won’t be able to…” She trailed off and raised a hand to her forehead, swaying suddenly. You rushed forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, quickly taking almost her complete weight as you sat her down on the bottom bunk of a bed. 

“Sweetheart, you’re sick. Let me take you home. Maya has the day off, we can watch movies and I’ll make you soup and we can get you feeling better. Please. You’re a biohazard.” You knew that last part would make her rethink her position which was exactly why you’d thrown it in. 

Carina dropped her head on your shoulder for a moment giving into the dizziness that you were sure she was feeling. 

“Please. Flu season has been bad, this will only get worse before it gets better.” As a nurse, you had been treating case after case of the flu several of them with severe enough symptoms that they needed to be admitted. You were used to rates going up during the winter but it was worse this year. 

The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes, you rubbing Carina’s back as she carefully weighed her options. 

“Fine.” She finally said, lifting her head to look at you with glassy brown eyes. “I don't want to get the mothers sick.” You smiled, perfectly happy with that answer. You didn't care why she went home as long as she did. 

“Thank you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stepped through the door to your home and were immediately greeted by a very worried-looking EMT. 

“Hey baby, come here.” Maya breathed, reaching out her arms for the shivering brunette bundled up in yours. She broke away from you and drifted toward the firefighter, tears already beginning to form in her eyes. You sighed quietly and pinched the bridge of your nose, wishing that you knew of a way to keep her from crying. She always got weepy when she had a fever and you hated that there was so little that you could do to help. 

“I made a little blanket fort on the couch or we can go lay down in bed, what do you think?” The blonde offered, stepping immediately into the role of caretaker. She was so good at that, even you, a nurse, had trouble with it when it came to the people you loved. For some reason taking care of strangers always came easier. 

“Bed.”

It took the two of you ten minutes to get her settled, she had refused the first three sets of PJs that were offered and wouldn’t lay down until Maya did. Once the blonde was in bed it seemed to signal to Carina that she was allowed to rest and quickly cuddled up against the firefighter. 

You flipped on the TV and handed the remote to your healthy girlfriend so that you could change out of your scrubs and into sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. The shirt belonged to Maya, but the two of you frequently swapped clothes, so she didn’t mind. 

“Do you need anything Car? Some tea? A snack? Anything?” You offered, expecting the answer to be no. She shook her head, just as you thought she would, and reached over the EMT to grab the hem of your shirt. 

“Will you lay down with us? Just for a little while?” She croaked, sniffling softly. Her nose was running a little but she didn't seem to notice or care. You smiled and walked around to the other side of the bed so that she could be in the middle. 

Taking care of the doctor would never be an easy feat but you and Maya were more than willing to accept the challenge. Though you both were glad that she had such a strong immune system. That certainly helped. 

〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @juststuckhereforever, @chairhere, @goldenempyrean, @villaneve4life

[sicktember]

While waiting for the Sicktember 2024, June 15th reveal, check out these past prompts and collections for inspiration!

Sicktember 2023 - 2021 Past Prompts and Collections

💚2023 💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompts List ⬇

1. Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

2. Quest for a Cure

3. “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”

4. Hiding an Illness

5. Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

6. Sick and Injured

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

8. Persistent Fever

9. White Coat Syndrome

10. “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy”

11. Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

12. Old Wives Tale

13. Anxious Stomach

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’

15. Sick in an Inconvenient Place

16. Consulting the Internet/Web MD

17. Magical Remedy/Healing Potion

18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

19. Curled Up With a Pet

20. Cramping Pain

21. “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too”

22. Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

23. Coughing Fit

24. “Did you just sneeze?”

25. Confused/Disoriented

26. Pink Eye/Conjunctivitis

27. Uncooperative Patient

28. “I should have stayed home”

29. Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

30. Patient 0

2023 Alternate Prompts

Alt. 1.“I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now”

Alt. 2. Fuzzy Socks

Alt. 3. Pounding Headache

Alt. 4. Forehead Kisses

Alt. 5. “I’m so sorry”

💚2022💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompt List ⬇

1. ‘Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person?’

2.  Homesick

3.  Painkillers

4.  Hangover

5.  'Great. Now I Have Your Germs All Over Me.’

6.  Sick on vacation

7.  A cry for attention

8.  Intense coddling

9.  Home remedy

10. Excessive use of tissues/ ‘Blow Your Nose’

11. Emergency Room/ Ambulance

12. Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

13. Seasonal/Pet Allergies

14. ‘I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It’s Fine.’' 

15. Frostbite/Sunburn

16. Care Package

17. Syncope/Fainting

18. Nausea/Upset Stomach

19. Whining/Crying 

20.  Cold Sweat

21. ‘Does this look infected to you?’

22. Common Cold/Flu

23. Tepid Bath

24. ‘I Need You To Pull Over!’

25. Acid Reflux/Heartburn

26. Tickle in the Throat

27. Sleepless Night/s

28. Chronic Illness

29. Lethargy/Exhaustion

30. ‘Get Back in Bed!’ 

2022 Alternate Prompts:

Alt. 1. Soft Pajamas

Alt. 2. Vapor Rub

Alt. 3. Cuddling on the Couch

Alt. 4. Taking a Sick Day

Alt. 5. ‘Can You Be Brave For Me?’

💚2021💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompt List ⬇

1. Fever

2. Persistent Cough/Sniffling.

3. Chicken Pox/Rash 

4. Headache/Migraine

5. Comfort Item (Plush/Blanket)

6. Nebulizer

7. Sneaky Temperature Check

8. Contagious

9. I’m Not Sick

10. Medicine/Injection

11. Bed Rest

12. Faking it

13. Appendicitis

14. Aches and Pains

15. Quarantine 

16. Hot Water Bottle

17. Ginger Ale and Crackers

18. Fever Dream/Hysteria

19. Addiction

20. Doctor’s Visit/Check Up

21. Unlikely Caregiver

22. Toothache

23. Ear Infection

24. Sneezing

25. Sick at School/Work

26. Strep Throat/Laryngitis

27. Blankets

28. Missing Out 

29. Motion Sickness

30. Food poisoning/Allergy

2021 Alternative Prompts:

Alt. 1:  Warm Soup

Alt. 2:  Too Many Layers

Alt. 3:  Vitamin C

Alt. 4:  Stay

Alt. 5:  Asleep on the Couch

[goldenempyrean]

Migraine Meowments

〚 Day 19 - Curled Up With a Pet 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha has a migraine but at least she has two of her favourite people nearby 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Sicktember 2023 Masterlist 〙

Natasha groaned in misery and pain as she shifted positions in bed. She had been battling a relentless migraine all day, one of those skull-splitting headaches that felt like a vice squeezing her temples. It was awful and had kept her in bed for most of the day. The world around her seemed to have fizzled away, reduced to a painful haze of throbbing pain, and even the softest sounds seemed to reverberate through her head like thunderclaps. It was the kind of day where every ray of light was an assault, and every movement sent waves of nausea coursing through her body.  

With the curtains drawn tightly shut, she lay cocooned in the comforting darkness of her bedroom. She had always been prone to migraines, but this one was particularly stubborn, resisting all her usual remedies. Her only solace was the presence of Liho, her fluffy black cat, who had taken up residence on the bed beside her. Liho's warm, furry body provided a soothing counterpoint to the relentless pain in her head. 

As Natasha lay there, clutching her pillow and willing the pain to subside, she heard the front door of their apartment open and close. Footsteps approached the bedroom, and then the door swung open slowly. A shaft of light pierced the darkness, and Natasha winced, burying her face deeper into her pillow. 

"Natasha?" a soft voice called out, tinged with concern. 

It was her girlfriend, whose voice was a soothing melody on Natasha's tormented senses. You somehow always had a way of making things better, and she longed to be held in your arms right now. Blinking against the painful intrusion of the light, she turned her head to see you standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the soft glow of the hallway light. 

Liho stirred, sensing the newcomer, and gracefully padded over to greet you with a low, contented purr. Natasha watched as you cooed and crouched down to stroke Liho's fur, her fingers gentle and soothing. 

"Hey there, Liho," You whispered softly, your voice a comforting lullaby for both cat and woman. "Where's your momma hiding, hm kitty?" 

Liho, content with the attention, continued to purr and nuzzled her your hand. Natasha managed a weak smile at the sound of her happily purring cat. 

"I'm in here," Nat replied, her voice a strained whisper. 

Hearing her voice, your head turned in its direction, your eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room. You took a step closer, your features twisting in subtl concern as your made out Natasha's pallor and the lines of pain etched into her face. 

"Oh, sweetheart," You said softly, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. "You've had that migraine all day, haven't you? I told you to call me if it wasn’t getting any better, didn’t I?” 

Natasha could only nod in response, tears of pain and frustration pooling in her eyes. You sighed pitifully and reached out to brush a strand of hair away from Natasha's forehead, her touch gentle and cool against her skin. You were in no mood to scold her about her stubbornness, not when she was clearly being punished enough by her own body. 

"I'm so sorry love," You murmured, her voice dripping with sympathy as your hand slipped into hers, your thumb rubbing gently on hers, "Let me help you?” 

She nodded again and you leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead while the black cat jumped back up onto the bed, twirling in a circle before settling into the small divot in Natasha’s pillow. Even in the midst of the storm inside her head, she knew she was home, and in the comforting presence of the person (and kitty) who made everything better. 

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @widows201 @llovergirleraa @danveration @idkeithershawty @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart @loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @ahintofchaos @scarlettssub@paisley-yy @wandanats-goodgirl 

[shion-yu]

Sicktember 2024 Masterpost

Completed! :D

Day 1: "I'm not hungover, I'm just sick." (Cliff, Phoenix)

Day 2: Overindulgence (Alex, Ryo)

Day 3: Campus Crud (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 4: “Great, I got a cold for my birthday.” (Alex, Shu)

Day 5: Rogue Organ (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 6: Dizziness/Vertigo (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 7: Borrowed Hoodie (Alex, Ryo)

Day 8: Hospital Bed (alt) (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 9: Overdramatic Patient (Alex, Ryo)

Day 10: The Sniffles (Alex, Ryo, Cliff, Elliot)

Day 11: Medieval Treatment (Rey, Felix)

Day 12: “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up.” (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 13: Mononucleosis (Shu, Mathias)

Day 14: Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 15: “Who decided soup is sick people food?” (Al, Theo)

Day 16: Toxin/Poison (Rey, Felix)

Day 17: Brain Fog (Cliff, Shu)

Day 18: My body is one big ache (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 19: “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” (alt) (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 20: Medication Bribery (Al, Theo)

Day 21: Anaphylactic Response (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 22: "You didn't use my cup, did you?" (Elliot, Alex)

Day 23: Under a Spell (Julian, Shu, RATED M)

Day 24: Tales from the Waiting Room (Cliff, Elliot)

Day 25: Summer Flu (Shu, Alex)

Day 26: Cardiac Arrest (Shu, Alex)

Day 27: This is non negotiable (Alex, Ryo)

Day 28: Pulling a Ferris Bueller (Rey, Felix)

Day 29: Sick on a Road Trip (Al, Theo)

Day 30: Contagion

[darkstar225]

@woso-fan13 Updated Masterlist

Updated: 04 January 2024

I have no clue why I did this, I just love this writer sm and wish I could check everything in one place since I keep re-reading the fics lol

PS: If the writer wants me to delete the post and send it to you so you'll post it, feel free to message me! I just love the fics and felt like doing this :D

It didn't fit everything so check out @woso-fan13 for the other masterlist with the rest S2

Sicktember 2023

Number 1: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Number 2: Quest For A Cure

Number 3: “What Happened To Your Phenomenal Immune System, Huh?”

Number 4: Hiding an Illness

Number 5: Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

Number 6: Sick & Injured

Number 7: “You’re A Jerk When You’re Sick”

Number 8: Persistent Fever

Number 9: White Coat Syndrome

Number 10: “The Only Place We’re Going Is To The Pharmacy”

Number 11: Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick

Number 12: Home Remedy/Old Wives Tale

Number 13: Anxious Stomach

Number 14: “I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am.”

Number 15: Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Number 16: Consulting the Internet/Web MD

Number 17: Magical Remedy/ Healing Potion

Number 18: “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

Number 19: Curled Up With a Pet

Number 20: Cramping Pain

Number 21: “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.”

Number 22: Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Number 23: Coughing Fit

Number 24: “Did you just sneeze?”

Number 25: Confused/Disoriented

Number 26: Forehead Kisses

Number 27: Uncooperative Patient

Number 28: “I should have stayed home”

Number 29: Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

Number 30: Patient 0

WHUMPTOBER 2023

Number 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Number 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Number 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Number 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Number 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.”

Number 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Number 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Number 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Number 9: “Learning everything ain’t what it seems, that’s the thing about these days.”

Number 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Number 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Number 12: “I haven’t slept in days but who’s counting?”

Number 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Number 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Number 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”

Number 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Number 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Number 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Number 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Number 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Number 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Number 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.

Number 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Number 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Number 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Number 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Number 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Number 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Number 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Number 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Number 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Comfortember 2023

Safe

Sweater Weather

Leaves Changing

Warmth

Treehouse

Notes

Sick/Illness

Grief/Mourning

Aftermath

Sadness

Comfort Show/Movie

Dreams

Baking

Late Night Phone Calls

Plushies

Coffee/Tea Break

Heirloom

Cuddles

Loved Ones

Shopping

Relapse

Cry

Anxiety

Blankets

Rain

Friends

Soup

Flashbacks

Sleepover

The New Normal

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 15: "Who decided __ is sick people food?"

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Mingyu (cold)

Caregiver(s): Wonwoo

Word Count: 817

Notes: Better late than never!!! Based very, very lightly on the last time I was majorly sick, and called my mom in tears, and she brought me three different flavors of soft serve ice cream from Dairy Queen: one to eat while she was there, and two for later. Cheers, Mom! Also, there's a follow up to this for Day 19... which is still in the works...

The thing about being roommates for so long was that there were absolutely no secrets between them anymore. So when Mingyu’s attempted to squirm away from Wonwoo when the older rapper hugged him upon returning home from a solo photoshoot, it was the last red flag Wonwoo needed to conclude that his best friend was indeed sick. 

He’d had his suspicions since he’d woken up (he’d had the pleasure of hearing Mingyu toss and turn and sniffle all night, perks of being roommates), but had waited for further confirmation to confront Mingyu about it. Because an unwell Mingyu was a stubborn Mingyu; confront him too early, and he’d refuse all help. And Mingyu was the type of patient who required the help of others. For as thoughtful as he was when it was someone else in need, he was hopeless bad at self care. 

So Wonwoo needed to tread carefully here. 

“Heeey,” he singsonged after Mingyu had wiggled out his embrace. He casually moved towards his own bed, taking off his jacket and sitting down to remove his shoes. “How are you?” He kept his voice cool. 

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m fine, same as last time I saw you, what, three hours ago?” One of Wonwoo’s eyebrows arched skeptically at the sound of Mingyu’s huskier than usual, definitely congested voice. The younger man smiled like nothing was wrong. “How are you? How was the shoot?” 

Wonwoo waved him off. “Same old, same old. You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.” He looked off down at the floor, hands shoved in his pockets of his sweatpants. He had his shoulders hunched every so slightly. Conserving warmth, Wonwoo noted. 

“Nah, I don’t think it’s weird when you were up half the night.” Mingyu’s attention snapped back to Wonwoo, his face melting into the most pitiful look of guilt. Wonwoo withheld the smile from his face. “We share a room, Gyu. I always know.” 

Mingyu shivered, and Wonwoo clicked his tongue, patting the space next to him on his bed. Mingyu, surprisingly, rose from his desk chair and sat down next to Wonwoo, allowing himself to be pulled against Wonwoo’s side, head on his shoulder. 

“You want my hoodie?” Wonwoo asked, voice quiet for only Mingyu to hear. 

Mingyu shook his head. “Then you’ll be cold…”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine, dummy. I’m not the one running a fever.”

“I’m not…”

“I can feel your skin, love. You’re running hot.” 

“I’m always hot.” Mingyu squealed when Wonwoo pinched his side. “Am I wrong, though?” Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling Mingyu closer as the younger boy giggled at his own joke. Mingyu’s body remained tense against him. “You’re gonna get sick too.”

“Babe. We share a room and you’re allergic to covering your mouth. I’m getting sick whether I like it or not. And pouting about it isn’t going to change that.” Mingyu quickly schooled his expression, Wonwoo smirking affectionately and pinching his cheek, much to Mingyu’s dismay. But the younger man did finally accept Wonwoo’s embrace, melting against his shoulder. They sat in silence for a bit, Mingyu mindlessly playing with a string on his sweatpants as Wonwoo simply existed in the moment.

Their quiet time was broken by a knock at the door.

“Wonwoo-ah?”

They looked up to see Hoshi leaning around the doorway with two bowls of… ice cream? 

“What’s going on?” Mingyu asked, eyeing the dance leader suspiciously as he drew closer after Wonwoo nodded at him. 

“Wonwoo texted that you weren’t feeling well, and asked me to bring you something to make you feel better.” As Hoshi explained, he held out one of the small bowls of plain vanilla ice cream. 

Mingyu looked down at the bowl, then up at Wonwoo. “Since when is ice cream ‘sick people food?’”

The older man shrugged. “Since forever.”

“But isn’t ice cream bad for your throat?”

“Only if you’re singing. But it’s actually really good for when you have a sore throat.” Wonwoo smiled. He touched his own throat for emphasis. “The milk coats everything, and the cold soothes the pain. My parents always let me have a little ice cream when I wasn’t feeling well, so I can personally vouch for its healing powers.” 

“I second that prescription,” Soonyoung said. He gave the bowl a tiny shake, prompting Mingyu to take it. “A little sugar never hurt nobody.” Mingyu finally took the ice cream from Soonyoung, taking a tiny, careful bite. Soonyoung then held the second bowl out to Wonwoo, promising he’d be right back with his own bowl. 

“Thank you, Woo,” Mingyu said softly as soon as Hoshi had ducked out of the room. 

Wonwoo smiled. “Anytime, love. Just promise to be nice to me when I inevitably catch this.”

“Deal.” Mingyu held up his bowl, and Wonwoo tapped it in their own personal cheers.