#remus the migraine wrangler

[candied-peach]

ao3: “the game is not played alone” rating: T warnings: migraines, emetophobia mention, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit, intruloceit genre: fluff description: Remus doesn’t get migraines. ...Does he?

Remus blinks furiously, scrubbing his eyes with both hands.

"Is it dim in here or is it just me?" He asks, still lazily sprawled across Deceit's bed. Dee and Logan give him a dubious glance.

"Considering my heat lamp is on, I would say that it's the opposite of dim right now," Deceit says carefully. "Are you feeling all right, Remus?"

"Never better," he chirps, but he has a sickening feeling that's not quite the truth. His stomach churns, like he's drank a cup of bleach, and nausea paints his throat in broad, sloppy strokes. His head doesn't hurt, not exactly, but it feels like a wicked storm's brewing, about to crash over him with all the force of a tsunami.

Deceit and Logan turn back to Thomas's planner, conversing quietly about his plans for next week and whether or not he'll have to come up with a polite lie to get out of an engagement, and Remus sighs, kicking his feet off the end of the bed. Star bursts of light fill his vision, and he frowns.

If this were anyone else, he'd say maybe they had a migraine starting. But-

He doesn't get migraines.

Does he?

Remus closes his eyes, burrowing under one of Dee's spare blankets. Maybe he'll just take a nap. That's it. He'll take a nap, feel better, and that will be that. He probably ate something that didn't agree with him, that's all. He does it all the time. Deodorant and cologne, bleach and motor oil. Just because he can't remember eating anything of the sort today doesn't mean that he hasn't. And sleep makes everything better, right? He'll be fine. He drifts off with that uneasy hope swirling in his mind, the soft sound of his boyfriends talking lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes, the pain throbbing in both temples makes him slam his eyes shut, a pained whimper breaking free before he can stifle it.

"Remus?" Deceit asks, and his voice is soft, gentle, but still too loud, and Remus whimpers again, only the prospect of more pain preventing the tears before they can trickle down his cheeks.

"Cephy, what's wrong?" Logan asks. Remus's hands automatically come to his head, massaging his forehead as if he can push the pain away, and he hears Deceit's sharp breath of understanding.

"Sit up for me," Dee encourages, but Logan has to help him. He feels as weak as a box full of newborn kittens in a tree, and the change in position makes his head thud even more with an obscene, sickening pain.

"Is it a migraine, darling?" Dee asks. Remus nods and promptly regrets it, slamming his lips together as tightly as he can so he doesn't throw up in his lap.

"Oh, cephy," Logan says softly, and strokes some of his hair back from his clammy forehead.

"Here," Deceit murmurs. "I'm sure you know the drill." Remus makes a face, staring at the two tablets in Deceit's outstretched hand. He chooses the dissolvable tablet first, popping it under his tongue and sighing in relief as it begins to dissolve. It tastes like it's supposed to be reminiscent of a fruit, but it's only ever seen said fruit through a blurry window. The La Croix of nausea tablets, one might say.

"Juice?" He asks hopefully. Logan conjures a glass of apple juice and hands it to him, as Dee hands him the other tablet. He gets it down with a hefty swallow of juice, only wincing a little bit as the coldness of the juice hits his teeth.

Deceit snaps his fingers, shutting off his heat lamp, and the resulting dimness makes Remus sigh in relief.

"Cuddle time?" Dee asks, his voice blessedly quiet, even softer than before, and Remus makes the a-ok sign with one hand, letting Logan guide him back down to the bed, under a weighted blanket. His boyfriends bracket him, Deceit planting a kiss on his forehead as he does, and Logan ruffling his hair.

"Wait-" He tries to surge back up, but the pain in his head instantly dissuades him.

"What is it, cephy?" Logan asks. Remus frowns, his mouth drooping almost comically.

"I was gonna help my bro," he says. "Maybe even daydream mode..."

"Roman will understand," Deceit says. "And so will Thomas."

"And I'll personally ensure that you still get said creative time," Logan adds. "Don't worry, Remus." Remus subsides, soothed by his boyfriends' promises, and finds himself yawning enormously, fatigue hitting him all over again.

"We won't leave," Deceit promises. "Get some rest, Remus. It might help."

"Didn't earlier," Remus grumbles. Dee laughs softly.

"You took meds now, there's a chance," Deceit points out. "When you asked if the lights were dim..."

"Yeah," Remus says, scrunching his nose. The pain in his head starts to recede a little, like waves lapping at an irregular shore. "And lights kept bursting in my eyes, like squishing grapes."

"That sounds highly unpleasant," Logan says. "I'm sorry, cephy."

"Were we too loud earlier?" Deceit asks.

"Nah," Remus says. "You aren't loud at all. Now Roman..." He sticks out his tongue.

"If he shows up, asking where you are, we'll tell him you have a migraine," Logan says. "Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, please," Remus says, closing his eyes.

"Go to sleep," Dee encourages. "We'll be right here when you wake up."

"Pinky swear?" Remus asks. He feels both of his boyfriends take up a hand, firmly locking pinkies together.

"Pinky swear," they chorus.

He falls asleep with a slight smile on his face.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @littlestliu @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @iamthenewqueenofgames @matthindavick @killjoy-3000

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

I'm bored Do you have any suggestions on something I could read. Like a sanders sides fic maybe? Thanks in advance.

My favorite thing to read is @candied-peach‘s Remus the Migraine Wrangler Series, especially this one. But I also like this story and this blind Virgil series.

[violetreereads]

shadows will scream by peachsneakers

(Part 2 of Remus the migraine wrangler)

Summary: Roman has a migraine. They have stuff for that. Author Links Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210... A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pea... Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/cand...SHOW LESS

Working on my quality, still learning though. My friend who owns a studio is giving me tips as I go, but his biggest suggestion is to keep trying.

First time trying to voice all of the boys too! Hopefully I’ll get all of these voices down!

If you have stories you want me to cover, let me know! While I absolutely plan on finishing this set, the next story out will be a little bit different. 

@candied-peach

@fander-audiobooks

[candied-peach]

ao3: “my mind shipwrecked” rating: T warnings: migraines, emetophobia mention?, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, dukeceit genre: hurt/comfort description: Remus discovers Deceit having his first migraine.

"If you've come here to kill me, I welcome it and all I can beg of you is to do it quickly," Deceit's voice echoes through a surprisingly dark room as Remus enters, some inner impulse forcing him to catch the door before it bangs against the wall.

Deceit's face down on the bed, like a homicide victim. All he's missing is the white chalk outline and for a moment, Remus considers conjuring some chalk and having at it. Then he remembers how angry his boyfriend gets when he gets dirty, and manages to fight the impulse down.

"You okay, Dee Dee?" Remus asks cautiously. Janus groans, stirring a little.

"Do I look okay?" He demands, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"No," Remus says, truthful. Somehow he can tell that wasn't the right answer. "What's wrong?"

"My head is killing me, I feel like I'm going to throw up everything Thomas has ever eaten, the very thought of light or loud noises makes me want to defenestrate myself, I can't sit upright without feeling like a swooning Victorian era maiden...the list goes on," Deceit says. Remus frowns, walking over to the bed and plopping down on the edge of it.

"That sounds like shit," he says bluntly, then hesitates. "Can- can I help?"

"I have no idea," Janus mumbles. Then- "Yes, you can. Cuddle me?" He manages to look up at Remus, eyes bloodshot and face sweaty.

"Of course," Remus says softly. "Scoot over." It takes a bit of work- Janus is well and truly entangled in his nest of blankets- but soon enough, Remus has Deceit in his arms, and the blankets are piled high atop both of them.

"You sure you won't overheat?" Janus asks. Remus shakes his head.

"Nah, I won't," he says. "I'm always hot. I'm your own personal space heater!" Janus smiles weakly at that.

"So you are," he says. "You know... I feel like utter shit, but you've made me feel better. Thank you."

"No prob, Bob," Remus says, burrowing closer to watch his breath stir his boyfriend's hair. "It's my job. Hey, that rhymed!"

"It did," Janus confirms, half-laughing. "I- I wish I knew what was wrong, though."

"Maybe Thomas knows," Remus says. "Or Logan. I could ask if you want."

"Later, maybe," Deceit says, with a slight frown. "Perhaps I could attempt to look it up later."

"It better be later," Remus says, a fierce mock scowl crossing his face. "You aren't allowed to leave this bed until you feel better. That's an order."

"Oh, now you can order me around?" Janus asks, playful. Remus leans down and presses a very gentle kiss to the center of Janus's forehead.

"Yes," he says smugly.

"I'm going to sleep," Janus groans. "Try not to get into mischief while I'm asleep."

"I make no promises," Remus says, his eyes glinting. Janus only groans louder.

"At least don't make a mess," Janus says. "I'm not in the mood, darling."

"Fair," Remus says, agreeably enough. He sprawls one arm over Janus, keeping him close. "To tentacle or not to tentacle."

"After I'm asleep," Deceit says. "Otherwise, it feels weird."

"Sounds good to me," Remus says, beaming. "Now go to sleep." Janus fights a yawn.

"Fine, fine," Janus mumbles. "I'm asleep." Remus brushes aside some of Janus's hair, gazing fondly down at his mismatched eyes, now at half-mast.

"Nighty night, Double D," Remus says, giving Janus another kiss on the forehead. "Maybe when you wake up, you'll feel better."

"I doubt I could feel worse," Janus says dryly.

"Never say never," Remus warns him. Janus frowns.

"I've gone and jinxed myself," he complains. Remus bites back cackling laughter. As Janus's breathing slows and he settles deeper into Remus's embrace, Remus finds himself growing sleepy as well.

Just five minutes, he promises himself.

He's sound asleep in seconds.

tag list:   @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @reverendliu @matthindavick @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @killjoy-3000 @the-sunshine-dims @sneaky-slytherin @reesiereads @rabbitsartcorner @quackerz-creations  @psodtqueer @awkward-child-of-satan @snek-boii @im-fine-24  @autumnpleaves @janusthesnakeboi @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18

[candied-peach]

ao3: “i am not as fine as i seem” rating: T warnings: migraines, emetophobia?, food, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus genre: fluff description: Patton has a migraine.

It starts when he's making breakfast. Pain abruptly bursts into exquisite life, stabbing through his right temple and making him stagger a little. Thankfully, no one else has woken up yet, so the only person privy to his little misstep is himself.

If he's perfectly honest with himself, Patton has to admit that he hasn't felt well since he woke up. A touch of nausea, and he winced when he turned on the kitchen light. Is Thomas getting sick? He frets, as he checks the chocolate chip pancake in front of him, adding it to the stack. The smell both entices and revolts him.

Could he be coming down with-

Patton frowns, chewing lightly on his lower lip. He couldn't have a migraine. He'd never had one before. Nothing has ever felt like this, this sick thudding in his temples that makes him want to crawl into a hole. A very dark, very cozy hole.

"Patton?" Logan inquires behind him, making him startle and nearly fling his spatula across the room. "Are you all right?"

"Never better!" Patton chirps, pouring a new round of pancake batter into the pan. He carefully doesn't turn around, afraid that the truth is written across his sweaty face. As Logan turns on the coffee maker, Patton has to grip the counter to keep his unsteady legs from giving out underneath him.

It doesn't matter if it's a migraine, he thinks resolutely. After the way I treated Roman- a pang of guilt shoots through him, making him swallow hard. -After the way I treated Roman, maybe I deserve a migraine.

He keeps that in the forefront of his mind as he continues making breakfast, finishing up the hefty stack of pancakes, scrambling eggs for Virgil and Deceit, and frying some bacon. The longer he goes on, the more sick he feels, but he shoves it away as hard as he can. It doesn't matter. After breakfast, he'll just go have a nap, that's all. Nothing wrong with taking a nap after breakfast. Maybe it will be over then.

What if it isn't? His mind taunts him. What if it's worse?

I'll cross that bridge when I come to it! He answers, setting the plate of toast on the table harder than he intended. The noise makes Logan look up, a slight frown on his face.

"Patton, are you sure you're all right?" He asks, as Deceit and Remus come into the room, Roman and Virgil trailing them. "You don't look well."

"I'm fine," he blurts out. Deceit gives him a dubious look and too late, Patton remembers that he can tell when someone is lying. "I woke up a little early," he tries to backtrack. "That's all."

"If you're sure," Logan says, as the others clatter around the kitchen, retrieving coffee, tea, and orange juice. All the noise makes Patton want to cry and now he feels like an even bigger jerk for being so loud around Roman, because if this is how Roman felt that day, he doesn't know how Roman didn't burst into tears as soon as Patton said a word.

He picks at his food, knowing the others are still looking at him, but unable to care. A lump has settled itself at the top of his throat, making it nearly impossible to actually eat. If the nausea churning in his stomach would just subside-

"Pat, something's wrong," Virgil says, his voice quiet, cutting across the breakfast chatter like a knife. Patton swallows, looking up and pasting a sickly smile on his face.

"I'm fine, Virge," he insists. "I just didn't get enough sleep, that's all."

"That's why you look like you're about to throw up at any moment?" Virgil asks, his voice thick with skepticism. Patton winces. "That's why you cringe every time someone talks a little too loud? That's why you haven't even managed to eat one pancake, when they're your favorite?"

"I-" Patton takes a shuddering breath. "It's nothing-"

"Yes, it is," Deceit interjects. His snake eye glitters. "What's wrong, Patton?"

"I know," Remus chimes in. "You have a-"

"No, I don't," Patton interrupts. He feels like he's drowning. "I'm fine, nothing's wrong with me, I don't need your- your-" He bursts into tears and promptly regrets it as the pain in his head revs up even more.

"Hey, hey-" Virgil's arms encircle him, burying his face in the blessedly warm fabric of his hoodie. "It's okay."

"It's not," he forces out, his voice quivering. "I'm sorry, I deserve it, I-"

"Wait a minute," Deceit says, on his other side. "Why do you think you deserve it?"

"How- how I treated Roman," he blurts out. "I didn't- I didn't realize it was- I'm sorry." Fresh tears trickle down his cheeks.

"Patton," Roman says, and his voice is soft, so soft that Patton internally blesses him for it. "Patton, it's all right. I forgave you when it happened."

"I should have been better," Patton sniffles. His head feels like it's going to split open.

"Here," Remus says, shoving a glass of water across the table. In his other hand lies two tablets. "Try these. That one goes under your tongue." He points to the smaller one. Patton blinks at him in surprise.

"Thank you," he says. "But- why are you helping me?" Remus shrugs.

"Because migraines suck assholes," he says. "Go on. It's even regular water, just how you like." Deceit makes a displeased face.

"Thank you," Patton says, popping the smaller tablet in his mouth to dissolve. He makes a face himself at the taste. The other tablet goes down easier, helped by a hefty swallow of water.

"Why don't we get you tucked into bed?" Logan suggests. "We'll clean up breakfast." Patton looks around at all the concerned faces, and his heart warms.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Positive," Virgil answers, helping him to his feet. "Come on, pop star. Let's get you to bed."

Despite the pain throbbing in his temples, Patton manages to smile.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @killjoy-3000 @matthindavick @littlestliu

[candied-peach]

ao3: “waging my wars” rating: T warnings: migraines, maybe emetophobia, food, sympathetic remus, prinxiety genre: fluff description: Virgil has a migraine. His boyfriend knows what to do about that. ( @tsshipmonth2020 prompt: prinxiety)

What is wrong with me? Virgil wonders, pulling his hoodie up to cover as much of his face as possible. His room is blanketed in darkness, for the most part, save for the purple fairy lights twinkling around his bed, and even those feel like white hot daggers throbbing in his temples.

It's not an anxiety attack- he's had plenty of those- but the pain in his head and the nausea surging up his throat makes it hard for him to concentrate on anything else. And if he can't even concentrate on his own room, how can he help Thomas? What if this stupid pain means that Thomas messes up? Or gets hurt? Or-

"Panic at the Everywhere!" Roman declares from the doorway, bombastic as always. The sound makes Virgil whimper and curl up into a tighter ball on his bed, holding the stuffed bat Roman got him for one of their dates close to his chest. The white rectangle of light from the hallway feels like a spotlight threatening to burn out his retinas.

"Virgil?" Roman questions, softer. "Are you okay?" Finally, blessedly, Roman steps fully into the room and closes the door, cutting off the light that threatens to splinter through Virgil's brain.

"No," he ekes out. His throat feels like it's tightened to the size of a pinhole. "I- I don't know what's wrong, my head hurts and I want to throw up and the light-" He pauses. Something about what he's just said has sparked a memory, but he can't get a grip on what. It feels like fairy floss, here one moment and wisps the next.

"Virgil?" Roman asks carefully, his voice still quiet. "Do you get migraines?"

"Maybe?" Virgil whispers. His head throbs and he huddles deeper in his blankets. "Is- is that how you felt? Before?"

"It was pretty bad," Roman admits. "Remus and Deceit helped me out, would- would you like me to help?"

"Yes, please," Virgil says at once. Roman comes over, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I think I need my brother's help," he says. "Is that okay?" Virgil nods and immediately regrets it, as yet another surge of pain stabs his head. Roman summons his brother, who jumps, staring around his new surroundings in wide-eyed surprise.

Virgil winces, preparing himself for yet another onslaught of sound, but Remus takes one look at him and slams a finger against his own mouth, effectively shushing himself.

"I think Virgil has a migraine," Roman explains. "Could you help?"

"Sure, bro," Remus says. He snaps his fingers and two pill bottles fall into being, Roman hastily catching them. "One you dissolve under your tongue, the other you take with water or something."

"I hate water," Virgil grumbles under his breath. Roman gives him a commiserating smile, handing over the first medication. It tastes weird, Virgil discovers, as he lets it dissolve under his tongue. Weird and the gritty taste makes him feel like he's chewing on sand. But it's relief, and at this point, he'll take just about anything if it means his head stops feeling like he's gone ten rounds with the dragon witch. Or worse.

Roman conjures up a glass of apple juice and Virgil murmurs a thank you, to both of the twins, as he takes it. Remus watches him, his eyes glittering with what looked like sympathy.

"Feel better, Virgey!" He chirps and sinks down before Virgil can say anything in response.

"Would you like to cuddle?" Roman asks.

"Yes," Virgil croaks. He scoots further up on the bed so Roman has room to stretch out beside him. Roman snaps his fingers, summoning his favorite blanket from his room, and tucking it around both of them. It is blissfully warm and smells faintly of lavender.

"You'll be okay, Virge," Roman murmurs, very gently stroking his fingers through Virgil's hair. "I promise."

Virgil rests his head on Roman's chest, listening to the reassuring thump of Roman's heart.

"Okay," Virgil whispers, stifling a yawn. He feels exhausted all of a sudden. "Love you, Ro."

"Love you, too," Roman replies, his fingers never stopping. It is surprisingly soothing. "Get some rest. I won't leave."

Virgil believes him.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @ancient-fruity @airiervessel @yalltookmyurlideas @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @littlestliu @bexxbeauty @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @ambersky0319 @did-he-just-hiss-at-me

[candied-peach]

ao3: “behind my face, above my throat” rating: T warnings: migraines, emeto maybe, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit, dukeceit genre: fluff description: Deceit has a migraine. Remus is surprisingly helpful.

If it were just the headache, Deceit reflects miserably, as he lies face down in a heap of crumpled blankets, he might be able to handle it. As it is, the churning nausea, dizziness, sensitivity to light, and sensitivity to sound ensure that he stays as prone as possible, in as dark conditions as possible. Which is a problem when you're part-snake and rely on a heat lamp to keep from freezing. Hence the huddle of blankets. He's even stolen borrowed some from the Light Sides, and he's still cold.

"Oh, Dee Dee!" Remus sings out, entering his room with a clatter. Deceit groans as what feels like an ice pick needles through his already clamoring brain.

"...Oh," Remus says, in a much quieter tone of realization. "Sorry, Dee. Have you taken your meds yet?"

"No," Deceit admits, because the thought of getting up and taking them has made him want to die for the past hour. Remus tsks under his breath, and Deceit can hear him rummaging through his dresser.

"What's the point of a mind palace that can give you anything you want or need if you aren't going to use it, snake-face?" Remus gently chides. "Come on, up you get," he chivvies, coaxing Deceit up. The change in position brings a tremendous throb of pain and another surge of nausea to spill up his throat.

"Zofran first," Remus says, seeing the sick look on Deceit's face. Deceit wrinkles his nose when Remus puts the dissolvable tablet in his hand, doing an unhappy blep as he looks up at his boyfriend.

"It helps," Remus reminds him. With a sigh, he pops it under his tongue. He supposes it could taste worse. But considering it is the mind palace, you would think he could have conjured up something better.

"Now the Imitrex," Remus says, handing him a new tablet and a glass of juice. Deceit refuses to take anything with water. No matter what Patton says, water does have a taste and that taste can best be described as 'fucking disgusting.'

"Thanks, Remus," Deceit says, handing him the half-empty glass of juice. Remus drains it in one go, licking his lips.

"Needs more bleach," he pronounces. Deceit stifles a laugh and immediately regrets it when his head throbs more. Remus's expression softens as he urges Deceit to lie back once more.

"Do you want a warm compress?" Remus asks. "I promise it won't catch fire this time. I don't know how it happened, I swear-"

"Sure," Deceit says, cutting him off. He might regret it if it does end up ablaze, but at least it won't be boring. Life with Remus is rarely boring.

Remus disappears for a moment, coming back from the attached bathroom with a folded up damp washcloth. A few drops of water trickle down to mat Deceit's hair when Remus places it across his forehead, but he ignores it for the warm relief it brings.

"Cuddles or no?" Remus asks. Deceit considers it for a moment.

"Yes, please," he requests. Remus squirms his way under the heap of blankets, gently wrapping his arms around Deceit, and Deceit sighs in bliss, because his boyfriend is like having a personal space heater.

"You're the best," he says gratefully. Remus leans and licks his ear, sending a surprised shiver down his spine.

"I know," Remus says, his voice smug. Deceit snorts, and leans back into his boyfriend's arms. Everything else can wait.

[candied-peach]

ao3: “letters by my bed” rating: T warnings: emetophobia, migraines, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, intruloceit genre: fluff description: Logan has a migraine. His new boyfriends are here to help.

Logan frowns, peering down at the planner spread in front of him. He doesn't know what it is exactly, but he's having the hardest time focusing. It doesn't help that light dazzles keep sparkling in front of his eyes, making it hard to see and distracting him from his work.

A familiar knock taps at the door, prompting his lips to curve into a smile.

"Come in," he starts to say, just as pain slams into his temples like the onslaught of a speeding train, doubling him over. A surge of nausea up his throat sends him scrambling for the attached bathroom, just managing in time to scrabble up the lid and spew out everything he's eaten.

"Logan?!" He dimly hears Deceit cry out in alarm, through the pulsing in his ears. He sits up, shame clogging his throat, just as Remus leans over him and flushes the evidence away. The brilliant light of the bathroom, spelled to turn on whenever he enters, feels like it's burning out his eyes. He slams his eyelids shut, with a low whimper of distress.

"All right, Lo Lo, we'll get you out of here, okay?" Remus says in a soft, gentle tone, slowly helping Logan to his feet. The taste of sick in his mouth makes his stomach cramp and he makes an abortive move toward the faucet.

"Here," Deceit says, pressing a paper cup of water into one hand. "Rinse your mouth out and drink some of that." It's flavored water, he discovers when he swishes it around his mouth, spitting it out into the sink and draining the rest. He thinks the flavor makes it easier to tolerate. Certainly it is more pleasant to endure the faint taste of grape in his mouth.

Remus guides him over to his bed, peeling back the covers and coaxing him to lie down. Logan squints at his desk, the pain in his head intensifying.

"But I'm not done with my work," he protests weakly.

"You're ill," Deceit counters.

"You have a migraine," Remus continues. "What did you tell Roman when he got one?"

"That we could always finish the work later," Logan says, then frowns. "...Oh."

"Exactly," Remus says. "Come on. Do you take meds for yours?"

"I do," Logan admits. "They're on my dresser. I believe mine are the same as Deceit's, although I could be wrong." Deceit goes over to his dresser, peering down at the tidy surface and plucking up two bottles.

"They're the same," Deceit says. "So you know what to do?"

"Yes," Logan says. "Although I believe taking an anti-nausea medication is too little too late at this point." Deceit shrugs philosophically.

"It might help stave off any further episodes," he murmurs, and begrudging, Logan places the dissolvable tablet under his tongue. He hates the whole concept of dissolving tablets. The taste is odd and he despises the gritty texture on his tongue.

More flavored water, he discovers, when Remus hands him his next medication. He looks up to see a guilty flush stain Deceit's cheeks.

"I do not like the taste of regular water," Logan confesses. Deceit sighs in relief, flopping onto the bed next to him.

"Me neither," Deceit says. "It's disgusting. And it does have a taste."

"It does," Logan says. "It-"

"All right, you two, Lo Lo needs his rest," Remus says in a mock-scolding tone.

"Why did you want to come in here in the first place?" Logan asks, belatedly remembering that they hadn't just come after he threw up, after all. Deceit smiles, surprisingly sweetly.

"To spend time with you, obviously," he says softly, bringing one of Logan's hands up and kissing his knuckles. Soft warmth fills Logan, almost enough to make him forget the pain spasming in his temples.

"I'd like it if you both stayed," Logan admits. "I- I don't want to be alone."

"Pajama party!" Remus exclaims quietly, snapping his fingers. Logan looks down at himself and blinks, surprised to be in his unicorn onesie. Remus has an octopus onesie with little plush arms attached to the side, and he isn't surprised to discover that Deceit has a snake onesie. His bed is now piled high with pillows, much more than his standard two.

"Thank you," Logan says, as he settles into bed, encouraging Deceit to lie next to him. Deceit does so with a happy blep, Remus sliding into bed on the other side. "Both of you," Logan adds.

"Of course, Lo Lo," Remus says. "I wanna help. You have my heart. Literally if you want it, I can rip it out for you later-"

"That won't be necessary," Logan interrupts, firmly squashing the brief stirring of curiosity. If he really wants to examine the anatomy of a human heart, he doesn't need to examine his own boyfriend's!

"Fine," Remus sulks, then grins, leaning over and kissing Logan on the cheek. Logan blushes, a dazed smile creeping up on him.

"Rest now," Deceit tells him, loosening his tie. "Give your medication time to do its job. Let us do our jobs."

"And what jobs might that be?" Logan asks. Deceit grins.

"Cuddling you, of course," he says, and suits actions to words.

[candied-peach]

i might add another story to the remus the migraine wrangler series today or tomorrow

it just feels fitting whenever i have a migraine lmao

[candied-peach]

ur my favorite ts fic writer! all of ur fics are so good, i especially love the remus the migraine wrangler series

thank you so much! ♡

i’m really glad people like that series because it’s 100% a way for me to vent about having chronic migraine lmao