#sicktember day nine

[fanfictasia]

Sicktember Day 9

Alt. Forehead Kisses

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Chosen Twins

That he actually looks deviously amused is probably a good sign, but instead of launching another pillow or tickle attack, he lays down in between us.

Or maybe it’s not such a good sign, because I can’t imagine him much wanting to lay down during the day unless he’s really not feeling well. Our stupid good off session probably didn’t help matters, but I don’t think anyone has any regrets.

I flop out next to him, and yes, I have many important things to be doing right now but I want to stay here a little longer.

“Are you okay, Master?” I ask finally, quietly, breaking the silence settling over us. I don’t think anyone was about to fall asleep yet.

He twists sideways to look at me, something oddly soft in his gaze. “You don’t need to keep worrying about it,” he replies, hand reaching up to lightly touch my cheek.

I freeze at the sudden gesture, because okay yes he can be a little affectionate sometimes, but –

He leans closer abruptly, kissing my forehead.

…

…

Yes.

Okay.

Clearly, he is not in his right mind right now, because he doesn’t get that emotional about things. He just doesn’t. He’s Obi-Wan and he –

“That is not fair,” Aniya blurts, looking at Obi-Wan with eyes wide enough to be bug-eyes, “And also, I think we do need to be worried. You’re clearly not feeling okay at all.”

Though that seems to make him come back to himself because he moves to lay back down again, though I feel Aniya’s small disappointment.

I can’t quite restrain myself from leaning closer, half to hug him back because I have no idea how else to expression the surge of emotion flooding me. And also, to reassuringly squeeze Aniya’s hand.

[sicknessbysalem]

Day Nine: Overdramatic Caretaker | Sicktember 2024

You know how in basically every fic with the twins so far… calypso is surprisingly calm and put together? yeah… well, fuck that.

idk who wanted it (probably nobody) but once again the parasites won. have some overprotective, overly stressed Calypso.

if you have any requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, overprotective sibling, mentions of chronic health issues

The house was eerily silent, the kind of stillness that only comes in the dead of night when the world seems to pause in anticipation of the day to come.

Calypso lay in bed, her mind drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, the soft hum of the wind outside lulling her into a fragile state of rest. But then, a sound cut through the quiet—a soft, muffled noise that tugged her from the edges of sleep.

At first, she thought she might have imagined it, a trick of her drowsy mind. But there it was again—something faint, distant, but unmistakably real.

Calypso blinked, her heart picking up pace as she strained to listen. The sound was coming from the direction of Cassius's room. A soft shuffle, a quiet thump, and then… nothing.

The unease that had settled into her chest bloomed into something sharper, something that made her throw off the blankets and slip out of bed without hesitation.

She moved quickly, her bare feet padding softly across the cool wooden floors as she made her way toward Cassius's room. Her pulse quickened, a familiar sense of anxiety tightening in her chest.

Cassius had always been prone to illness—his chronic health issues often kept her on edge—and any unusual sound from his room in the middle of the night was enough to send her heart racing.

As she neared his door, she heard it again—a low, guttural sound that made her blood run cold. It was the unmistakable sound of retching, followed by a pained groan. Without a second thought, Calypso pushed the door open and hurried inside.

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bathroom light spilling out from the half-open door. She could see Cassius’s shadowy figure slumped near the toilet, his body trembling as another wave of nausea wracked him.

The sound of him retching again sent a jolt of panic through her, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was at his side, kneeling beside him on the cool tile floor.

“Cassius,” she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and concern. She reached out, her hand hovering near his back, unsure if he would want her touch in that moment. He was always so independent, even in his worst moments of sickness.

But Calypso couldn’t help herself—seeing him like this, so vulnerable, made her heart ache.

Cassius groaned in response, his head still bent over the toilet as his body convulsed again, another painful retch ripping through him.

Calypso winced at the sound, her stomach twisting in sympathy, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on him. He was pale—too pale—his face slick with sweat, and she could see the faint tremors that ran through his hands as he gripped the edge of the toilet bowl.

“Is it your medication?” she asked urgently, her voice tight with worry. “Are you having a reaction to the new prescription? You just started it, right? A few days ago…”

“Calypso,” Cassius rasped, “It’s… it’s not that.” He sucked in a shaky breath, his body slumping slightly as the wave of nausea passed. Then, another sound. A tired, weak chuckle, “Pretty sure it’s not the meds.”

“But are you sure?” Calypso pressed, unable to stop the flood of questions that came pouring out of her. “You haven’t felt like this since you started taking them… side effects would’ve shown up sooner right? You didn’t eat anything weird, did you?”

“Cal,” Cassius interrupted, reaching over and grabbing her hand. He slowly lifted his head, his pale, sweat-dampened face turning to look at her. His eyes, though clouded with pain, held a flicker of exasperation, the kind that told her he had heard this all before. “I don’t know what’s making me sick, but it’s not the medicine and if it was dinner you’d be sick too.”

Calypso’s lips pressed into a thin line, her worry still gnawing at her insides. She bit her tongue, knowing that Cassius hated it when she hovered like this, but it was hard to help herself.

Seeing him so sick, so fragile, made her want to do everything she could to fix it, to take away the pain he was feeling, even though she knew she couldn’t.

Cassius leaned back against the wall, his body trembling as he tried to catch his breath. His skin had taken on a pale, almost ashen hue, and Calypso could see the dark circles under his eyes, a telltale sign of how much the nausea had drained him.

“I just feel…” he began, but his voice trailed off as another wave of dizziness hit him. His face twisted in discomfort, and he closed his eyes tightly, swallowing hard as if to keep the nausea at bay. “God, I don’t know what this is. Probably a 24 hour bug… I mean we’re public figures so that’s likely.”

Calypso’s heart clenched at the sight of him. She reached out, gently brushing his damp hair back from his forehead, her fingers cool against his overheated skin.

“You’re burning up,” she murmured, her voice softening with concern. “We need to get you into bed. I’ll get you some water, maybe some ginger tea, and we can—”

“Cal, please,” Cassius groaned in exasperation, his voice strained. “I can’t move right now. I just need… a minute. And you need to breathe.”

Calypso hesitated, torn between wanting to help and knowing that Cassius needed space. She sat back on her heels, watching him carefully as he leaned his head against the wall, his breaths slow and shaky.

He looked so small in that moment, so unlike the confident, clever brother she knew so well. The sight of him like this, sick and vulnerable, sent another surge of anxiety through her, and she had to fight the urge to smother him with more questions, more attempts to fix what was happening.

“Do you think it’s something you ate?” Calypso asked softly after a few moments of silence, her voice gentler now. “Maybe some bad food? It probably wasn’t dinner, I don’t feel sick. I mean when we both good food poisoning… you got sick while I was in the bathroom also getting sick… it affects us at the same rate usually. But I feel okay. Maybe lunch? We didn’t have lunch together…”

Cassius opened his eyes slowly, his gaze unfocused for a moment before he nodded faintly. “Could be,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel this bad earlier, but now… it’s just hitting all at once.”

Calypso’s brow furrowed with concern. She thought back to the dinner they had shared earlier in the evening, trying to remember if anything had seemed off, if Cassius had mentioned feeling unwell at the time. But nothing had stood out, and the suddenness of his illness worried her even more.

“I should have noticed,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “You were probably feeling sick before, and I didn’t even realize it.”

Cassius gave a weak shake of his head. “Cal, don’t… don’t blame yourself. I didn’t notice anything either.” He paused, swallowing hard again as his stomach clenched painfully. “It just… came on so fast.”

Calypso chewed on her bottom lip, her mind racing with possibilities. She was trying to stay calm, trying not to let her panic show, but the fear of something serious happening to him gnawed at her relentlessly. Cassius had been through enough—his chronic health problems already made every illness a potential crisis in her mind, and the thought of something being seriously wrong made her chest tighten with dread.

“What’s wrong? Exactly?” Calypso said, “I mean you obviously are having nausea and vomiting, pretty sure I felt a fever… headache? chills? body aches? sore throat… or well, not just from throwing up… or what about-“

“You talking a million miles per hour is making me nauseous Callie,” Cassius said, “Just take a deep breath. Okay? I’m nauseous but this is the first time I threw up. I’m tired, was tired, but I’m always tired. I have a headache and now that I’ve thrown up I’m dizzy but I wasn’t before. Is that sufficient?”

Calypso’s heart clenched painfully at his words. Still, she couldn’t help the anxious energy that bubbled up inside her, the overwhelming need to do something to help.

“I’ll stay with you,” she said firmly, her hand resting on his arm in a silent show of support. “Just in case you need anything.”

Cassius gave a faint nod, too weak to argue with her, and for the first time since she had found him, Calypso felt a small sense of relief.

She couldn’t fix this—she couldn’t make whatever was making him sick go away—but at least she could be there for him, offering what little comfort she could, even if it meant just sitting by his side in the dimly lit bathroom.

The minutes ticked by in heavy silence, broken only by the occasional sound of Cassius shifting uncomfortably or the faint gurgle of his stomach as it twisted with another wave of nausea.

Calypso sat beside him on the cool bathroom floor, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched her brother with wide, anxious eyes.

She was doing her best not to hover—she really was—but every time Cassius let out a soft groan or winced in pain, her instincts screamed at her to do something. Anything.

Cassius, on the other hand, was trying to downplay his discomfort, though it was clear he was still struggling. His breaths were shallow, his face pale and clammy, and every so often, he would lean forward, bracing himself against the toilet bowl as another wave of nausea surged through him. His whole body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the constant churning in his gut. The room felt too hot, the air thick and oppressive, and his stomach was in a perpetual state of unrest, bubbling and gurgling like it was about to revolt again at any moment.

He knew Calypso was watching him, her worry practically radiating off her in waves, but the last thing he wanted was for her to spiral into full-blown panic mode. He didn’t have the energy to reassure her properly, but he had to try.

“Cal,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the strain of vomiting. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Calypso blinked, clearly startled by his attempt to lighten the mood. She bit her lip, her brow furrowing in a mixture of frustration and concern. “You’re not okay, Cassius,” she said quietly, her voice tight with emotion. “You’re still really sick. And I—”

“Calypso,” Cassius interrupted gently, though his tone was strained. He leaned back against the bathroom wall, his head resting heavily against the cool tiles as he closed his eyes, trying to focus on keeping his stomach from turning again. “It’s just a virus. I’ll be fine. I just need to ride it out.”

But even as he said the words, another cramp rippled through his abdomen, his stomach lurching violently in protest. His hand flew to his belly, pressing against the tender muscles in a futile attempt to soothe the pain.

He could feel the nausea building again, a slow, creeping sensation that made his mouth water and his throat tighten. He swallowed hard, trying to keep it at bay, but the effort left him breathless and trembling.

Calypso noticed the change immediately. She shifted closer, her hand hovering near his shoulder, unsure whether to touch him or not. She wanted to help, but every time she reached out, she worried she’d somehow make things worse.

“Cassius,” she whispered, her voice trembling with worry. “You’re not fine. You’re pale, you’re sweating, and you’re still really nauseous. Please, just let me help.”

Cassius opened his eyes and gave her a tired look. He knew she was trying her best to stay calm, but it was clear she was struggling. The overprotective instinct in her was kicking in, and though he appreciated it, he also knew how much it weighed on her. He didn’t want her to stress herself out because of him.

“Cal… you being this worried makes it harder for me,” he said softly, “I’ll get through this. I just need you to breathe, okay? You’re gonna give yourself another headache if you keep this up.”

But Calypso wasn’t buying his attempt at reassurance. Her hands twisted the fabric of her shirt as she glanced between him and the toilet, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “But what if it’s not just a virus? What if it’s something else? Maybe food poisoning, or—”

“Calypso,” Cassius cut her off, his voice firmer this time, though it came out strained as he fought to keep another wave of nausea from overwhelming him. “I… I don’t think it’s anything worse. It feels like one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. You’ve seen me sick before. I’ve seen you sick before. This… this isn’t that different.”

But it was different to her. It was always different when it came to Cassius. His chronic health problems meant that any illness, no matter how small, felt like it carried the weight of something much bigger, something more dangerous. And seeing him like this—so pale, so vulnerable—stirred up every protective instinct she had.

Calypso’s hands fidgeted in her lap, her anxiety bubbling just beneath the surface. “I know you’re used to this,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible. “But I hate seeing you like this. It scares me every time.”

Cassius let out a soft sigh, his eyes still closed as he leaned his head back against the wall. He understood her worry, he really did, but right now, he didn’t have the strength to reassure her as much as she needed. His stomach was cramping again, his gut rolling unpleasantly, and he could feel another wave of nausea rising up, threatening to send him back to the toilet.

“I’m sorry, Cal,” he muttered, his voice weak. “I don’t want to worry you… but I really need you to calm down. I promise I’ll let you know if I think it’s something worse.”

Calypso’s heart clenched painfully at his words. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that it was just a simple virus, but the sight of him like this—pale, sweating, trembling—made it hard to push her fears aside. She couldn’t help it. He was her twin, her other half, and the thought of something happening to him was too much to bear.

Another retch pulled Cassius forward before she could respond, his body convulsing as his stomach clenched painfully. He leaned over the toilet again, gagging as his body tried to purge itself of whatever was left, though there was little left to expel. Calypso winced at the sound, her heart breaking for him, she reached forward and brushed some of his hair out of his face.

Cassius’s breath came in ragged gasps as the nausea subsided, leaving him weak and trembling. His hands were shaking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face even paler than before.

He felt drained, completely wrung out, and the constant churning in his stomach made it hard to think about anything other than the next wave of sickness that he knew was coming.

Calypso couldn’t take it anymore. She reached out, gently placing her hand on his back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to comfort him. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, okay? I’ll always be here.”

Cassius nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue with her. He leaned into her touch, letting her presence soothe him even if it couldn’t take away the sickness.

“Thanks, Cal,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Calypso swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She hated seeing him like this, but if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she would always be there for him. No matter how scared she was, no matter how hard it was to watch him suffer, she would never leave his side.

Not now. Not ever.

The minutes felt like hours as the night dragged on, the oppressive quiet of the house broken only by the occasional sound of Cassius shifting uncomfortably or the soft sigh of Calypso’s breathing as she sat vigil beside him.

Cassius was still perched on the floor by the toilet, his body slumped against the wall, utterly spent from the effort of being sick. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his face pale and slick with sweat.

Every so often, he’d bring a trembling hand to his forehead, trying to wipe away the dampness, but it did little to ease the heat radiating from his skin.

Calypso watched him like a hawk, her nerves frayed and her worry spiraling into an endless loop of worst-case scenarios. She’d always been like this with him, ever since they were kids. Anytime Cassius got sick, it was as if something inside her switched on, some deep instinct that drove her to fuss, to hover, to try and fix whatever was wrong, even when she knew there was nothing she could do.

She ran a hand through her hair, standing and grabbing a rag, running it under cold water and pressing the rag to Cassius’s forehead.

“Cassius, are you sure it’s not the medication? Or… or something else?” Calypso asked, “You look awful. I really think we should—”

“Calypso,” Cassius interrupted gently, though his voice was strained with exhaustion. “I promise, it’s probably just a stomach bug.”

But even as he said the words, his body betrayed him. His stomach twisted sharply, sending a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him.

Cassius groaned softly, his hand flying to his stomach as the cramp hit him with a new intensity. He could feel the muscles in his abdomen contracting painfully, and a familiar tightness in his chest told him that he was about to be sick again.

He tried to suppress it, leaning his head back against the wall and breathing slowly through his nose in an attempt to keep the nausea at bay. But it was a losing battle. His body wasn’t giving him a choice. Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, retching into the toilet as his stomach convulsed again.

Calypso winced, her heart twisting painfully at the sight of her brother being sick again. She reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles as he gagged and retched, his body trembling with the effort.

Cassius coughed weakly, gasping for breath as the wave passed. He slumped against the toilet, his body utterly drained from the effort. His stomach was still churning, the nausea lingering like a dull, constant ache, but for now, at least, it seemed to have eased slightly.

He closed his eyes, his breathing slow and labored as he tried to regain some semblance of control over his body.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I know this sucks.”

Calypso shook her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles on his back. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly. “I just hate seeing you like this. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.”

Cassius managed a weak smile, though his eyes remained closed. “I’m definitely not pretending,” he said, his voice rough. “I just don’t want you stressing yourself out.”

Calypso bit her lip, her hand stilling on his back. She knew he was trying to keep her calm, but the truth was, she was already far beyond calm. The sight of him so pale, so sick, made her chest tighten with fear. She hated feeling so helpless, hated the way her mind kept racing through all the things that could be wrong with him.

“You’re still nauseous, aren’t you?” she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Cassius nodded weakly, his hand still resting on his stomach. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s not great.”

Calypso sighed, her worry spiking once again. She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. She needed to do something, anything, to help him.

“Okay, let’s get you back to bed,” she suggested, her voice firmer now, trying to mask her anxiety with determination. “Maybe if you lie down, it’ll help settle your stomach. I can bring you some water, or tea, or—”

“Calypso, I don’t think I can move right now,” Cassius interrupted gently, his eyes still closed. “Just give me a minute.”

Calypso’s heart clenched at his words. She hated seeing him like this—too weak to even get off the bathroom floor. But she forced herself to stay calm, to push down the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. He needed her to be strong, not frantic.

“Okay,” she whispered, her hand moving back to his shoulder, offering what little comfort she could. “Okay, we can stay here as long as you need.”

The silence stretched between them again, heavy and thick with unspoken worry. Calypso sat beside him, her heart racing with every labored breath he took, her mind spinning with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.

“It’s not what you think,” Cassius said, “I could get up… I just feel like the position change might make me start puking again.”

“Well, still,” Calypso said, “That’s not good either…”

She tried to focus on the present, on being there for him, but it was hard. Every time she looked at him, slumped against the wall, pale and trembling, the fear tightened in her chest.

Cassius, for his part, seemed calm. Or at least, he was trying to be. His body was still fighting the nausea, but he wasn’t as frantic as Calypso. He knew his body—he’d been through enough bouts of illness to recognize the signs of something minor versus something serious. This felt like a stomach bug, something that would pass if he just waited it out. He could handle that. What he couldn’t handle was seeing Calypso so stressed out over him.

“Cal,” he whispered after a long pause, his voice hoarse. “You’re doing that thing where you’re overthinking again.”

Calypso blinked, startled by his words. “What?”

Cassius opened his eyes, giving her a tired but knowing look. “You’re overthinking. I can see it. You’re running through every possible thing that could be wrong with me, right?”

Calypso’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I just… I can’t help it, Cassius. I’m worried.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice gentle despite the pain in his stomach. “But you don’t have to worry so much. I’ve been through this before. I know my body. I’ll be okay.”

Calypso swallowed hard, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “But what if it’s something worse? What if it’s not just a virus?”

Cassius sighed, his hand pressing gently against his stomach as another cramp rippled through him. “If it gets worse, I’ll let you know. I promise. But right now, it just feels like one of those bugs that’ll pass. We’ve dealt with worse.”

Calypso nodded slowly, though the tightness in her chest didn’t ease. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that it was just a passing illness, but the sight of him so pale, so sick, made it hard to let go of her fear.

“You’re always so calm about this,” she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Cassius managed a weak chuckle, though it quickly turned into a grimace as his stomach tightened painfully again. “I guess I’m used to it,” he said quietly. “Being sick doesn’t scare me as much as it used to. I just try to focus on getting through it.”

Calypso bit her lip, her heart aching at his words. He had been through so much, so many health problems that had forced him to grow up faster than either of them should have had to. And yet, here he was, calm and composed, trying to reassure her even though he was the one who was sick.

“I wish I could do that,” she admitted softly. “Be as calm as you are.”

Cassius smiled faintly, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “You’re always strong, Cal,” he said gently. “Even when you’re worried. You’re always here for me. That’s all that matters. And for what it’s worth, I get every bit as stressed when you get sick as you do when I get sick… well, close. You’re here, though, and that’s more than enough. You know me, I’m not high maintenance…”

Calypso’s eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away quickly, not wanting him to see how emotional she was. She moved closer, close enough he could use her to be comfortablebut not forcing him.

“You’d do the same for me,” she whispered.

“Always,” Cassius murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned into her shoulder, his body finally beginning to relax, if only slightly. “Always.”

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 9

This is also a part of the series, "The Battle and Beyond" found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208933

This can be read as a standalone. Just know that Aunt May is unwell.

#9- Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker

“”...tell us your story. And don’t hurry it—I’m feeling comfortable now.”

“”Aravis immediately began, sitting quite still and using a rather different tone and style from her usual one. For Calormen, story-telling (whether the stories are true or mad eup) is a thing you are taught, just as English boys and girls are taught essay-writing. The difference is that people want to hear the stories, whereas I never heard of anyone who wanted to read the essays.””

Peter tucked his finger between the pages and flipped back to the front pages of the book. “1954? Huh. I guess torturing students with meaningless essay writing is a timeless tradition, after all.”

“Oh, hush you, my little nerd—you know you love school, meaningless essays and all.” May gave his arm a weak nudge. “There’s no point in denying it.”

And there really wasn’t. The battle and the snap that had brought him and half a universe back from nothing had been only three weeks ago, but that didn’t stop the State of New York and its Department of Education from getting the kids back to school and out of the streets so the work of putting the world back together could really get started. Peter had never been more grateful for some semblance of normal.

“In fact,” Aunt May interrupted his thought, “I’m pretty sure you mentioned having some sort of presentation that you and Ned had to have ready for tomorrow? Or is it the next day?” Sometimes she was a little foggy on the details, but it was fine. “Gosh, Peter, should you be down here at all? How much of it do you have left? Or are you and Ned planning to wax nostalgic and pull an all-nighter—‘cuz if you are, be sure to let Tony know, okay?” She grasped his hand. “You know how he gets these days when things pop up.”

Peter, in fact, did know exactly how Tony got—panicking whenever Morgan sneezed, asking if Peter wanted an x-ray that time he’d stubbed his toe— all sorts of over the top, but coming from a place of concern that Peter was grateful for.

“It’ll be fine,” Peter promised, “He knows Ned’s coming, but I’ll remind Tony about the plan when I get back to the penthouse so he’s prepared for it.”

“Perfect. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the warning.” May smiled as she laughed.

“Hey,” Peter almost took offence. “Ned is getting waaaay better at containing the fanboying so be nice!”

Adopting an air of faux-offence, May replied, “I’m always nice, Mr. Parker, and you know that Ned is like my bonus kid so hush.” She giggled again, “Now, seriously, do you have the time for this or should I be all responsible and send you off to get things sorted?”

Peter smiled softly at May, relaxed as she reclined on her med-bay bed. “I’ve always got time for you. I promise. So, where were we?” Peter re-opened the book to where they’d left off, “Chapter three, ‘At the Gates of Tashbaan.’ “"My name," said the girl at once, "is Aravis Tarkheena and I am the only daughter of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Rishti Tarkaan, the son of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Ilsombreh Tisroc, the son of Ardeeb Tisroc who was descended in a right line from the god Tash. My father is lord...”                                                              

/-/-/

Peter couldn’t help but bounce in excitement as he entered the elevator and it began its descent to ground level. Yes, he’d seen Ned since they’d come back. Yes, they still had plenty of classes together at school. And yes, they were texting anytime Peter wasn’t up in the med bay visiting with Aunt May or figuring out his place at Tony and Pepper’s place, or how to approach Morgan who was about as high energy as Tony MUST have been when he was a kid. But this—there was always something different when they worked on a project together. None of the other stuff mattered— be it Flash’s renewed bullying or Peter missing the subway and being late for first period, or that the comforter on his bed didn’t feel right and made it hard to fall asleep, or today, the fact that Aunt May was still the med bay dealing with yet another complication because of her stupid kidney.   

“Peter.” FRIDAY’s voice brought him out of his distraction, “We’ve reached the lobby. Would you like to exit the elevator car or would you prefer to return to the penthouse?”

“Oh! Sorry!” Peter flustered as he stepped out of the private elevator. “Let me go grab Ned and we’ll be right back, okay?”

“Of course, Peter. I’ll hold for you and Mr. Leeds.” The AI responded, giving Peter the permission he needed to bolt out of the private corridor and into the main lobby.

“Ned!” Peter shouted out as he caught sight of his best friend gaping, once again, at the impressive displays of both architecture and Stark Industries’ newest innovations. “Come on!”

Ned startled out of his stupor and rushed over to Peter, stopping only to share their elaborate handshake in greeting before Peter dragged him over to the elevator to head upstairs. “Dude. This is not the last time you’ll be here. You’ve got to show a little chill!" Peter teased as they entered the car.

“But, Peter? Did you see the display? Imagine what Mr. Stark could do on a global level if nanotechnology were released to the world? It would mean cleaner air! It would mean—“

“It would mean everything, which is why Tony is already working with King T’Challa and Princess Shuri in Wakanda to figure out the logistics of increasing nanobot production and how best to distribute it.” Yeah, Peter had to admit that watching Tony, T’Challa, and Shuri collaborate was a site to behold. In fact, it made him think of how he and Ned worked. “They’re gonna change the world, man, and it’s so cool to be able to watch it happen.”

The elevator reached their floor, door opening to reveal the living room just beyond the entryway.

Ned slapped his hand over his mouth before lifting it off to speak quickly to Peter. “Peter. My best friend for ever. My ride or die. I beg of you now, in this moment, that I will be so chill in, like, one minute. You just—you have to give me this. Please. Can I just have this?!”

Wary of what exactly it was he was agreeing to, Peter gave a tentative nod of agreement before Ned absolutely let loose. “Oh, my gosh, Peter! I’m am in THE penthouse of super genius Anthony Stark, also known as Iron Man!” He spread his arms wide as he spun around to take in the gloriousness that was this moment, reminding Peter that he’d have to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ with May sometime soon.

Ned stumbled only a little as he came out of his spin, taking his backpack off and dropping it on the floor as he caught sight of the coat rack off in the corner. “Peter.” Ned’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head as he turned to Peter and begged. “Please, please, please may I touch the coat of super genius Anthony Stark, also known as Iron Man? My hands aren’t sweaty or anything!”

“Ned!” Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it!”

“I still have, like, twenty seconds! C’mon! Don’t make this weird!”

“Too late, Ned,” Peter replied but gestured toward the coat. “But fine. One finger, five seconds, and then you have to be better at pretending to be normal for the rest of your life.”

Ned glared.

“Fine!” Peter threw his hands up in defeat, “The rest of this visit!”

“Deal!” Ned agreed excitedly and turned back toward coat rack, and tangling himself in the straps of the backpack on the floor in front of him in the process.

Peter should have been more aware. He should have anticipated, been watching, done a better job at keeping everyone Ned safe, but no. In a blink, Ned was crashing to the floor in a jumble of limbs and—Peter’s stomach lurched—something was very, very wrong with one of Ned’s hands.

“TONY!” Peter called out as he rushed to Ned’s side, “TONY!” Peter was edging on hysteria.

A flurry of footsteps came into the entryway and before Peter knew it, Tony was kneeling beside Ned, still twisted on the floor but trying to untangle himself in his shock. “Hey, Ted, buddy. How’s it goin’?” Tony asked gently as he stilled the boy, putting into practice some serious first-aider skills as he cautiously turned the boy to his back and assessed the situation.

“I’m okay—just fell, Mr. Stark, sir. I promise I wasn’t being weird.”

Tony looked over to Peter, crooking an eyebrow in question.

Peter stood there pale, not responding at all.

“Good to know,” Tony finally settled on replying with. “FRIDAY? Have we got anything to worry about other than the obvious here?”

A pause, and then FRIDAY responded. “Other than some soft tissue damage, the only injury requiring medical intervention will be the suspected fracture to Mr. Leeds’s right wrist. It is safe to move Mr. Leeds, Boss, and I have notified the med bay staff that you are en route.”

“Thanks, FRI.” Tony replied as his gaze settled on the boy still lying dazed on the floor. “What do you say, Fred? Wanna take a tour of the med bay seeing as you’re here anyways?” He inquired and gave a mischievous wink. There was no point in making the whole experience into a ‘thing.’

Ned, being Ned, lit up, even as the pain in his wrist flared as he stood. “I think that would be great, sir.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “Um... can we call my mom, too, please?”

Tony’s face softened, “That went without saying. Now let’s get moving, shall we? The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner you guys can get back to wreaking havoc.”

“Sounds good, sir,” Ned smiled weakly as he pressed his arm protectively to his chest and started the shuffle towards the elevator with Tony’s arm wrapped around him in support.

“Pete?” Tony called back over his shoulder as he noticed Peter not with them. “Are you coming?”

Peter blinked out of his haze and jumped to it, “Yes! Sorry, uh, sorry! I’m coming.” Peter rushed forward, entered the elevator, and started making a mental list of all the ways he could make this better.

/-/-/

When all was said and done, Ned had a type I Smith fracture with four to eight weeks stuck in a cast with another four to eight weeks stuck in a brace—with physio, to boot.

Mrs. Leeds had been so amazing, Peter thought to himself. She had every reason to be mad at Peter for not being enough, but nope. She’s allowed Ned to have the fracture reduced in the med bay (and Peter knew they were pros at that kind of stuff!) and spent the evening switching between visiting with May and then Ned once he started coming out of the sedation.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when both Mrs. Leeds and May shooed him out of the med bay just after midnight. Tony had arranged for something a little more comfortable than a cot to be brought into Ned’s room so Mrs. Leeds could keep her own eye on her son.

Peter would just need to figure out other ways to help.

/-/-/

It was a week before Peter and Ned were able to get together again.

“Let me get that for you!” Peter rushed forward to grab the door to the comic book store Ned had been preparing to open with his good hand.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ned said confusedly as he entered the store. “Uh, thanks, Peter?”

Peter completely missed the way Ned questioned his actions, which was fine. Absolutely fine—just like Peter. “No problem, Ned, oh! Here!” Peter rushed forward and made a grab for the free comics sitting in the stand by the door before Ned could even notice them. “I’ll carry these for you while you browse. Were you still looking for that new Batman series? Well, I mean—“ Ugh. It wasn’t new. Peter knew that. Ned knew that. Stupid snap. “You know what I mean.”

Ned smiled, “Yeah, I’ve got a whole bunch on order and they’ve started coming in. They’re holding what they’ve got behind the counter for me so we’ll grab them once we check out.”

“Perfect!” Peter exclaimed, overly excited. “I know you were excited about them coming out before...”

Ned smiled wider. “I was, and I can’t wait to get enough in order to start reading them, for now though...” Ned got a crazy glint in his eye, “Let’s check out all the new series we missed!”

Peter agreed in a heartbeat, then stood by his best friend’s side ooh-ing and ahh-ing as Ned discovered a couple of new DC series to delve into, being sure to hold each one as he shopped.

“Let me get that for you!” Peter practically yanked the bag from the young cashier’s hand before Ned could even touch it. “I don’t want you doing anything to hurt yourself.”

Ned chuckled. “It’s a little late for that,” Ned lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers to draw attention to his injury.

—And Peter’s failure.  

“Besides, I’m being encouraged to use my fingers as much as is comfortable. It’ll help with my mobility later on, the doctor says.” Ned shrugged. “And I’m guessing she knows what she’s talking about so...”

“I get it,” Peter conceded, not that it changed Peter’s plan. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help a brother out, right?” Peter held the door open as Ned walked through.

“Right, I guess.” Ned paused as they hit the sidewalk. “Hey, wanna grab lunch at that little 50s diner I overheard Flash telling Brad Davis about last week?”

“Sure!” Peter turned towards where he knew the restaurant was located. “Not that I’m trusting Flash’s opinion on anything, but it really takes effort to mess up a plate of fries, am I right?” Peter rolled his eyes, conveying his scepticism.

“Amen to that.”

“Amen.”

The diner was only a fifteen minute walk from the comic book store; thank goodness Ned seemed to be doing alright so Peter allowed himself to take a bit of a breath. Seeing the full booths through the window amped his anxiety again, but luck was smiling down on them and they were lucky enough to get the last free booth in the place.

“Wow!” Ned looked around the diner wide-eyed before focusing on the menu before him. “I don’t normally like to say that Flash is right about anything, but this place is awesome!”

Peter had to agree, even as his head bopped to ‘Rock Around the Clock’ coming from the authentic looking jukebox on the far wall. “I know! And look at that plate over there!” He pointed to a poodle-skirted server navigating the crowd while balancing the biggest, juiciest looking burger Peter had ever seen on a tray. “I know exactly what I’m ordering!” He took in the decor and overall atmosphere. “I’ll definitely have to bring—“ Peter intended to say May but remembered before he could embarrass himself, “Tony,” he corrected. “He’d think this was a hoot!”

“AND something like that might actually fill you up!” Ned replied then glanced down at the Iron Man signature on his cast. “Just please let me come when you bring him back! I promise I got all of the hero-worshippy stuff out of the way, especially now that he’s seen me puke.”

Yeah, Ned hadn’t done well with coming out of the anaesthesia.

“Welcome to Rockin’ Robin’s.” Their server had arrived, high ponytail and all. “What can I get for you today?”

After ordering more food than they probably should have, and thanking the server for their hastily delivered sodas, the two boys sat back and simply basked in the campiness of the whole place. The jukebox had switched to ‘Lollipop,’ to ‘Earth Angel,’ then a string of consecutive Elvis songs. The jukebox had switched to ‘Sha-Boom’ just as their server arrived with their food, placing their plates down in front of each boy, checked that all was well, and then disappeared to help other customers, all while bobbing along to the song.

“This smells so good,” Peter moaned as he picked up his burger with two hands and prepared a plan of attack.

“I know,” Ned groaned as he looked at his own burger... and one functional hand (and some fingers). “Wish me luck.”

Peter dropped his burger like it was on fire. “Hang on! Let me help!” Peter practically leapt out of his seat and shoved Ned over to sit next to him instead. “I’ve got it! Let me take care of you!”

“Dude,” Ned laughed nervously, “I’m good. I’ve can feed myself.”

“I know you can,” Peter replied, loudly enough that the people around them were starting to notice them, “but why bother when I’m here to help?!” Peter grabbed the cutlery that had been placed by Ned’s plate and started sawing off a piece of burger—or tried to. “What are best friends for?”

Ned couldn’t hold back the look of horror on his face, “Peter! What are you doing?”

Peter ignored Ned’s obvious upset as he grappled with hiding his own. “I’m helping! I don’t know what we were thinking coming here. I should have thought this through and done something easier for you to manage.” He mashed what he’d managed to onto the fork and offered it up to Ned. “Open up.”

Ned shook his head in protest as he pulled the fork out of Peter’s hand. “Dude! What’s going on? I said I could feed myself!”

“I know what you said,” Peter reached across the table get his own cutlery to get back to work. “I’m saying that I can take care of you, so just let me!”

“Peter,” Ned backed up a little. “You’re being weird.”

“No, I’m being helpful!”

“No, Peter. You are being weird with a big, ol’ capital ‘W.’” Ned was concerned. “And have been since I decided to be an idiot and break my wrist! What’s going on?”

“Geez!” Peter slammed the knife and fork down onto the table, causing everything on it to clatter loudly enough that everyone in the restaurant stopped to stare, not that Peter noticed. “Nothing is going on, okay?!”

The restaurant fell silent, save for the deep baritone of Johnny Cash coming from the jukebox.

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he realized he’d made a scene.

Maybe something was going on, after all?

“Oh,” he whispered then reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet. “I think I need to—“ Peter grabbed a couple of twenties (thanks to Tony) and threw them on the table. “I’ve got lunch today, but I have to—“ Peter stood up from the booth. “I’m gonna go and—“ Peter’s eyes welled with tears as he looked at Ned, torn. “Are you okay to get home on your own? I was gonna—“ Peter’s voice cracked and he swallowed before trying again, “I was gonna get us a cab so you didn’t have to—“

Ned just nodded, trying to figure out what to say, but before he could say a word, Peter nodded back, bolted for the diner door, and disappeared down the street.

/-/-/

It was late before Peter made his way home; so late that he hoped and prayed with everything inside of him that everyone would be asleep and he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone or anything ever again until morning.

But they didn’t call it Parker Luck for no reason.

“Welcome home, Peter.” FRIDAY announced as Peter entered the elevator. “As requested, I’ve notified Boss and Mrs. Boss of your imminent arrival and they are waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Peter closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. “Any chance we can take me back down to the lobby and just pretend I was never here? Say there was a glitch in your system?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. Boss is eager for you to return to the penthouse and, based on your current physical state and my directive to do my utmost to ensure your physical wellbeing, being in the kitchen is exactly what you need.”

That wasn’t good.

Peter gnawed at his lower lip, trying to come up with some reason plausible enough to explain where he’d been all day. Tony wouldn’t want to hear that he walked around like a zombie, thinking about what a failure he was as a friend. He wouldn’t want to hear that Peter was wishing he was just gone so he could finally break the curse that was his lineage. No Peter meant no chaos, after all.

“Peter?” FRIDAY prompted similarly to only a week ago. “You’ve arrived at the penthouse. Do you need assistance?”

“No. I’m good. Thank you, FRIDAY.” Peter whispered and stepped out into the entry, bracing himself for the interrogation to come.

Peter was so tired.

“Kiddo?” Tony called out quietly from the kitchen.

Morgan was obviously asleep.

Peter dragged himself toward the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s me,” he answered as the kitchen came into view. “I didn’t mean for you to wait up for me...” He looked from Tony to Pepper then back to Tony again. “I’m sorry for being a bother.”

“Pfft. Kid.” Tony seemed to be assessing the boy before him as he responded, “Board meetings are a bother. Politicians are a bother. Those lice outbreak warnings Mo keeps bringing home from daycare are a bother.”

Pepper gave Tony a playful smack across the chest.

“What?! They are!” Tony defended himself.

“Tony! Be serious,” Pepper hissed as she stepped toward Peter and opened up her arms in invitation. “What Tony is trying to say is that we’ve been worried about you, sweetheart.”

Peter was hesitant to take the comfort. After all he’d done and how he’d failed?

Pepper dropped her arms and smiled sadly, “It’s alright, Peter. Ned called us about the diner.”

Peter’s pale cheeks reddened in embarrassment as he dropped his face in his hands. “Please kill me now,” he begged whatever deity would listen.

“Hey, no death jokes, Pete,” Tony came forward and grasped Peter’s shoulders. “It will always be too soon for that, so please...” He pulled Peter to his chest, then wrapped his arms around him. “So there was a little drama today? So what?”

“It was so bad,” he mumbled into his hands. “I needed to—no—I NEEDED to help him and then he didn’t want it and I didn’t even know what to do!”

“Okay?”

“I cut his food, Tony! I was going to feed him! I don’t even—I think I scared him!”

“Hey,” Tony pulled back just enough to see Peter’s face, still tucked and hiding. “Hey, Peter, come on,” Tony shifted to a one armed hug, freeing the other to brush gently against Peter’s cheek. “Ned cares for you so much and is just as worried about you as the rest of us.”

Peter felt his eyes fill again. “This was not a little drama, Tony.”

It was Pepper’s turn to try and lighten the mood, “Okay, but I’d bet you managed to keep all of your clothes on while it happened.”

Peter managed an ugly sounding snort-laugh as his tears fell.

“Pepper!” Tony called out, scandalized. “Such betrayal.”

Pepper shifted to manoeuvre to Peter’s other side to join in the hug. “Maybe, but for now,” her arms tightened around the boy, “we’ll take the distraction.”

“Fine,” Tony grumped, “but tomorrow,” Tony’s arms tightened as well, “no more distractions. We’ve got our favourite spider-kid to take care of.”

“But—I—” It was Peter’s job to take care of them! It was—he had to—why was his brain doing this?!

“No buts. It’s our turn to take care of you, and we’ve put this off long enough.” Pepper whispered soft and May-like. “We’ll figure out the big stuff tomorrow. Okay?”

Peter didn’t know what to think? How to answer? It was almost too much—except that he wasn’t alone, right?

His next exhale shook. “Tomorrow?”

Tony pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “Tomorrow.”

And Peter hoped it would be okay.     

[vonpharma]

Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma & Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth Characters: Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth Additional Tags: Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Sicktember, Sicktember 2024, Sick Franziska von Karma, Author Projecting onto Franziska von Karma, PART TWENTY NINE BACK IN THE SADDLE, i gave Fran my chronic sore throat thing because i know she'd hate it, Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Family Fluff, Family, allll the family tags. teehee, uhhh, Dairy Queen, and also my dependency on cherry ricola. anyways

Summary:

It’s not that Franziska… wanted people to see her ill. Even the thought of that made her gorge rise, eyes on her when she was so vulnerable and lowly and imperfect. But perhaps a house with people in it would be nice from a distance, still… the hum of voices on the other side of her door, the occasional bowl of soup left steaming on her nightstand. Anything was better than the solitude of those lonely college days spent sore and uncomfortable in the world’s softest bed.

Written for Sicktember 2024 Day 3: Campus Crud

Please read my closing author's notes on why I will no longer be supporting the Sicktember event, and withdrawing my fills from the collection in protest.

[READ ON AO3!]

[shion-yu]

Day 7: Borrowed Hoodie

1,548 words of Alex/Ryo fluff. No TW/CWs, for @sicktember 2024.

That spring, Ryo had a cough that wouldn't go away. At first he didn't really seem sick, so maybe it was allergies or the weather, Alex thought. He didn't pay much attention to it, and Ryo himself was far more focused on ice skating to care. It was when the cough started getting in the way of skating by way of draining his energy for jumps that Ryo became frustrated enough to complain, and his mom brought him to the doctor who diagnosed him with walking pneumonia and prescribed at least one week completely off the ice, maybe two.

Ryo, of course, insisted this was ridiculous. It was his senior year and there was no way he was missing any opportunity to be doing what he loved for one final season. His parents put their foot down though, and a very grumpy Ryo complied only when they threatened not to send him back ever again if he didn’t. That didn't mean he was happy about it though. In fact he was so unhappy about it that his parents pulled out their final card: Alex.

Alex had a strange relationship with Ryo’s parents. They weren’t close, or even particularly friendly. Ryo’s parents had always been somewhat wary of Alex’s history and angry outbursts. They worried about Alex’s reputation getting Ryo into trouble, and they weren't always wrong because it had gotten Ryo into trouble numerous times. All of them knew that without Alex, Ryo never would have known what in or out of school suspension looked like.

On the other hand, they knew Ryo was happy when he was with Alex. And when they learned the two of them were dating, their attitude towards Alex had become less of one of tolerance and more of one of quiet acceptance. Ryo loved Alex, that was never a question, and so they had realized early on that their options were to accept Alex as Ryo’s boyfriend or to create a gap between themselves and their son. It helped that they'd suspected something was between the two boys for years, even if only budding as it was. 

Still, it was unusual for Ryo’s parents to call Alex directly. Alex answered right away, but he seemed very confused when he answered. “Hello? Mrs. Fujioka?”

“Yes, hi Alex,” she said. Her voice was always so dainty and quiet, nothing like Ryo’s noisy vibrato. “I was wondering, well, can you come over for a bit today? Ryo could use a little cheering up. He’s been on antibiotics for a few days now, so I don’t think he should be contagious anymore. If you’re okay with that.” 

“Uh… sure,” Alex said. Ryo had been texting him - ranting to him - for a few days now, flipping back and forth between how upset he was about being stuck at home and how crappy he felt. Alex was terrible at sympathizing, but had tried to cheer him up in his own way. Which basically meant just text him things like ‘You’ll be fine’ and ‘At least you’re not dead.’ 

“Thank you, I think that would really help,” Mrs. Fujioka said. “Like I said, I don’t think he’s contagious anymore, but well, maybe you should wear a mask. Oh, it’s probably a bad idea,” she fretted.

“No, it’s okay,” Alex interrupted her. “I’ll be over soon.”

“Alright,” she replied, voice grateful. “Just, maybe no, you know. PDA.”

Alex felt his face grow red. “Got it,” he said uncomfortably and hung up before she could say anything else embarrassing. It wasn’t that they didn’t kiss, or cuddle. But Alex still wasn’t fully comfortable being touched always. He had to be in a certain good mood to allow it, and kissing was usually pretty brief too. Ryo, to his credit, was very patient. But he was definitely the one who initiated anything nine out of ten times, and Alex rejected him about half of those times. Needless to say, PDA at least in the form of kissing was highly unlikely while Ryo was sick.

After finishing his math homework, Alex walked to Ryo’s house wearing his favorite striped blue hoodie and overly worn converse. He was supposed to meet Elliot later to discuss the album, but he figured he could go afterwards. He knocked and a worn out Mrs. Fujioka answered the door very quickly. 

“Alex. You’re here,” she said, and Alex was sure he didn’t imagine the look of relief on her face. Was Ryo really being that much of a pain the the ass? “I didn't tell Ryo you were coming, but he's upstairs, please.” She motioned for Alex to go ahead, which he did taking the stairs two at a time. He didn't bother knocking and pushed the door open.

“Mom, I said go away,” Ryo’s grumpy voice came.

“I’m not your mom, but I will go away if you're just gonna whine,” Alex said as a way of announcing himself. Ryo sat up immediately, his lips parted in shock.

“Alex? You’re here?!” He sounded a mix of surprised and pleased before he doubled over in a harsh coughing fit that made him hold onto his abdomen in pain. 

Alex grimaced. “You sound awful,” he said, climbing onto the end of Ryo’s bed without invitation. They had been best friends far longer than boyfriends, so it didn't seem strange. “Here,” Alex said, reaching for the cup of water on Ryo’s bedside table and handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” Ryo forced out, trying to get in a sip. 

“Don't thank me while you're choking,” Alex said.

“Sorry.”

Alex rolled his eyes and contemplated whether he should tell Ryo his mom had called him for backup or not. He was strangely proud of it, after all. “I heard you're being a pain in the ass,” he decided.

Ryo, who had finally managed to catch his breath, stuck his lip out to pout and crossed his arms with the conviction of a toddler. “I am not. They won't let me go skating.” 

“Ry, you’re coughing up a lung,” Alex said. 

“So? I only get to skate for one more year and never again. They could at least let me watch.”

“Okay, one,” Alex started, holding his hand up and counting on his fingers matter-of-factly. “You know you wouldn't be able to resist getting on the ice. Two, it's still cold in there and you have fucking pneumonia. And three, you’re not never going to skate again, you just won't be competing anymore. You're being dramatic. It's a week, two tops. Longer if you push it.”

Ryo huffed in annoyance, which made him cough some more. Alex silently thought he looked feverish, his complexion pale. “As valid as your points may or may not be, I’m still upset,” Ryo said.

“Well, it's fine to be upset,” Alex said. Then, realizing Ryo was making a strange face at him, asked, “What?”

“You sound just like Shu,” Ryo giggled. Alex glared at him, which made Ryo laugh harder until he started choke-coughing again. Alex shoved the water in his hands again and told himself that throttling the ill wasn't a smart choice, no matter how annoying of a boyfriend said invalid was being. 

Finally, Ryo sighed and flopped back in his pillows. He looked spent from coughing so much. “You done giving your mom such a hard time?” Alex asked, looking at his knees. “She's worried, you know.”

“I know,” Ryo sighed. “Maybe if you take a nap with me I’ll be a little nicer.”

“I’m not tired,” Alex said. 

“So just hold me for a while. If - if you want to. If you can.”

Alex considered it, his heart beating quickly in his chest. Did he feel like he could right now? Sometimes touch just put him over the edge, left him anxious even if the intention was to do the opposite. He barely let Shu hug him more than a handful of times per year, and Ryo was newer on his list of people he could do more than high five with. But Ryo was sick, and Alex did feel bad for him. So he said, “For five minutes.”

The smile he got in return was worth it. “It’ll be the best five minutes ever,” Ryo said. “And if you wanna let go sooner, just let go. I mean, you don't have to but I really-”

“Just shut up,” Alex said, face red. “Lie down already.” Ryo obliged, and Alex awkwardly wrapped his arms around Ryo’s torso. He let Ryo rest his head on his shoulder, too; it felt warm, probably warmer than normal. Ryo was finally quiet, and soon his uneven breath turned into a clear sleeping pattern. Alex’s heart beat quickly at first, but eventually settled and he found himself surprisingly comfy. He stayed where he was for not just five, but fifteen whole minutes. At that time he carefully pulled his arms away from Ryo, intending to go.

“Five more minutes,” Ryo mumbled.

Alex didn't move. He didn't answer, but he gave Ryo five or fifteen more minutes again before he finally snuck out of the room, leaving his favorite hoodie draped over Ryo so at least Ryo could keep his smell with him as he slept. By the time he got it back, it would no longer fit him.

[nurse-buckley]

911 Masterlist

Reader Inserts

An Awful Lot of Coffee - Eddie x Reader

Baby Bumps and Bruises - Eddie x Reader

Bad News - Bobby/ Buck x reader (platonic)

Breathe Slow - Eddie x Reader

Caveat Donor - Eddie x Reader

Caveat Donor - Part 2 - Eddie x Reader

Fainting Spells - Eddie x Reader

Laundry Day - Buck x Reader

Love Lines - Buck x Reader

May Contain Nuts - Buck/ Eddie/ Bobby x Reader

Muchas Manos En La Olla Echan El Guiso A Perder - Buck/ Eddie x Reader

To Keep Me From Freezing - Buck x Reader

Tomorrow Holds Such Better Days - Buddie x Reader (TW) 

Vaccination Day - Eddie x Reader

When the Nightmares Come - Buck x Reader

Buddie

Anniversary Surprise

Burns, Bandaids and...BLT's? - Hospital AU

I’m Coming - Part 1 - Buckley/ Diaz family

I’ll Always Come When You Call - Part 2 (I’m Coming) - Buckley/ Diaz family

Panic Attack

Safe Haven

Together

911 Reader Insert Week 

Day One - Fluff 

Day Two - Hurt/ Comfort 

Day Three - Smut

9-1-1 Lone Star

Here For You

Sicktember 2022

Day One - “Do you know how to look after a sick person?” Eddie x Reader

Day Three - Painkillers - Buddie

Day Four - "Can you be brave for me?" Buck and Eddie x Reader

Day Nine - Home Remedy - Buck x Reader

Day Eleven - Emergency Room/ Ambulance - Buck x Reader

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Moving Forward/ Day Nine: Overdramatic Caretaker

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58868908 by OBlossom "Peter should have been more aware. He should have anticipated, been watching, done a better job at keeping everyone Ned safe, but no. In a blink, Ned was crashing to the floor in a jumble of limbs and—Peter’s stomach lurched—something was very, very wrong with one of Ned’s hands. “TONY!” Peter called out as he rushed to Ned’s side, “TONY!” Peter was edging on hysteria. A flurry of footsteps came into the entryway and before Peter knew it, Tony was kneeling beside Ned, still twisted on the floor but trying to untangle himself in his shock. “Hey, Ted, buddy. How’s it goin’?” Tony asked gently as he stilled the boy, putting into practice some serious first-aider skills as he cautiously turned the boy to his back and assessed the situation. “I’m okay—just fell, Mr. Stark, sir. I promise I wasn’t being weird.” Tony looked over to Peter, crooking an eyebrow in question. Peter stood there pale, not responding at all. “Good to know...” Words: 4071, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 9 of Sicktember 2024 Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Pepper Potts, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds Relationships: Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Sicktember 2024, Day 9, Overdramatic Caretaker, The Battle and Beyond, Hurt/Comfort, IronDad and SpiderSon, reading CS Lewis, the horse and his boy, Off screen medical 'stuff', Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Precious Ned Leeds, Hurt Ned Leeds, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/58868908

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Oh, I forgot about sicktember prompts… if we’re still allowing two. Time’s second sicktember prompt?

If I recall correctly that's his famous UTI one, right? XD All hell broke loose there. SO LET'S HAVE A CUDDLE FIC :D

...

Zora's Domain positively glittered in the daylight. Time marveled at it, admiring the architecture. The watery reflective patterns that adorned his own version of the domain were not as abundant, but the kaleidoscope of colors from prisms split by glistening stone certainly made up for it.

The entire atmosphere was warm and cheery, and it gave the eldest Link some comfort as he walked slowly through the area. The morning had started lazily as Time had been trapped by almost all the boys, who had fallen asleep around him after everything that had transpired yesterday.

All but two.

Time had been searching for Warriors and Sky, wanting to reassure them and give them some comfort. He didn't remember exactly what had happened yesterday, only that he had, in his delirious state, perceived the others as threats and had tried to hurt them. Given the scrapes on some of them, he'd at least somewhat succeeded. Though everyone had insisted it wasn't his fault, he still felt terrible for it.

Especially since he hadn't been able to talk to Warriors and Sky about it.

The others had all come in and piled around him in the night, seeking comfort and allowing him to provide it. But Warriors and Sky had declined politely, and though Time logically knew it was partly because there was literally nowhere for them to make room, a part of him also feared it was because they didn't want to get near him.

At this point in the day, everyone had spread out. Wild was shopping and laughing with all the Zora while Four examined the masonry, particularly the statue in the square. Wind was swimming far below alongside Twilight while Legend and Hyrule explored the surrounding area, the former seeking stone tablets with history etched upon them while the latter just wanted to see everything the area had to offer.

But Time didn't know where Warriors and Sky had gone. He hadn't seen them since last night. After asking around a little bit, the best lead he got was that the pair had wandered towards the area of the reservoir.

The walk wasn't far, though after all the searching he'd done he didn't reach the long staircases until midday. The sound of lapping water tickled his ears as he reached the top, and his eyes scanned the area.

No sign of them.

Time had to admit, he was starting to get a little worried.

And then he heard something. A clash, a sharp sound of steel against steel and an enormously loud roar.

He'd heard that sound before. He'd heard it in a recent battle when they'd been faced with a particularly horrific foe, one that had taken all nine of them to eliminate.

A lynel.

Time whirled around, reaching for a sword he didn't think to bring with him? Swearing, he continued to search for the source of the noise, and his ears traced it towards a peak a distance away on the other side of the reservoir.

Squinting, he couldn't see anything, but the roar sounded once again, and it was definitely coming from that mountain.

Time examined the area frantically, wondering how in the world he could get up there and what he could do to help. He should go back to the main part of the Domain and call the boys together so they could figure this out and find the beast.

Then he heard a laugh.

Looking at the mountain once more, he could barely make out two figures, one of whom was yelling, but they were far too far away to discern what was being said.

Then one of the figures jumped off the cliffside. The other yelled again and started a strange series of hops down the mountain, accelerating and stopping with a whirring, metallic sound.

A hookshot.

Time watched in horror as the other figure plummeted towards the water, arms and legs spread out, before suddenly pulling out a parachute. A... white parachute. A very familiar parachute.

A sailcloth.

"Sky!" Time called.

He could see his face now, could tell when Sky turned to face him. Warriors landed on a nearby rock, yelling at Sky once more.

"Would it kill you to warn me?" the captain snapped. "Besides, that entire ordeal--"

Sky said something softly, his gentle deep tone cutting the captain off. Eventually the pair swam over to the dock where Time was waiting for them.

Time crossed his arms, examining the two. Warriors was wringing out his scarf irritably, unbothered by Time's scrutiny, but Sky shriveled a little under it.

"What happened? Are you two alright?" their leader asked.

"Fine," Warriors grumbled. "Sky decided to investigate the highest peak he could find and we ran into a lynel."

"It didn't have cursed blood, though," Sky added helpfully before changing the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Time answered simply. "Any injuries from the fight?"

Warriors laughed. "Ha! From a single unaltered lynel? Of course not. We handled it just fine."

The captain slung an arm around Sky, who brightened and giggled. The pair seemed in good spirits, but Time could sense a hair of tension between them and himself. He sighed, unsure what to do about it.

Then he looked at their soaking wet appearances and figured maybe he did know what to do about it.

"Come on," he prompted, motioning for them to follow him. "Let's get you back to the inn where you can dry off and warm up."

When they reached the inn, Time grabbed blankets and pulled a fresh set of clothes for each of them from their bags. After the pair had changed, he wrapped each up with a blanket and offered some warm tea.

"You didn't have to do all this," Sky said quietly.

"I wanted to make sure you two were okay," Time replied.

Warriors watched him, his sharp eyes piercing through the elder's words. "You think we're upset with you about yesterday."

Time sighed. "Yesterday was out of everyone's control. But I want you to know that wasn't me. I would never hurt either of you."

For some reason, his words made the captain look away, his face darkening. Time began to wonder if he'd said the right thing, began to wonder how his words could even be interpreted poorly in the first place.

Well, it wasn't as if words were his forte anyway.

Sky, on the other hand, softened and smiled a little too politely, also looking away.

Time frowned at the sight of it. He'd figured Legend would be the toughest one to reach, not these two.

But as bizarre and sudden as the reactions had been, they also faded. Warriors flashed Time his usual charismatic smile, and Sky scooted farther from the captain so Time had a place to sit.

Settling between the two, Time waited a little for them to settle. He waited a little too long, though, because Sky's energy reserves seemed to drain right out of him, and the boy started nodding off to the point that he almost fell over. Time quickly snatched him around the shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hold so the skyborn knight could rest.

"You know we don't blame you for yesterday, right?" Warriors suddenly asked, his voice low and quiet as he stared into the fire.

"I know," Time answered simply. "Am I not allowed to take care of you, Captain?"

The soldier huffed a small laugh, relenting. "Fine, fine, you did threaten to snag us later."

"Threaten?" Time repeated with a laugh.

"Yes, threaten."

"Well, then you should be expecting this," Time said as he pulled the captain to hug him with his other arm.

Warriors gasped a little and then groaned. "Good grief, old man, you don't have to get sentimental."

"People get sentimental in their old age, you know."

Warriors sighed heavily and then situated himself a little more comfortably in the embrace. "Fine. I'll give you that."

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #30

Prompt: Patient 0

Fandom/OCs: The Office (Sick Andy)

Words: 1550

Sicknario inspo: Character faking sick and character actually sick quarantined together from this post.

Author’s comments/background: A fandom I only write by request generally, but one that is always fun to revisit and good in a pinch for a writing challenge, since there’s so many characters. I have a love/hate relationship with Andy, and I’m not sure how great his characterization and dialogue is, but I suppose you all can be the judge of that. 

~~~***~~~

It was the semi-annual HR training day, and the employees of Dunder Mifflin, Scranton branch all shuffled in looking as if it was their execution day. They showed up, though, every single one. Truancy on training day had been a huge issue for a long time, so the corporate HR bigwigs had implemented this policy years ago: Mandatory attendance on training day, no doctor's notes accepted. A no-show meant automatic enrollment in twenty-four hours (the equivalent of three working days) of makeup online training. It was a brutal policy, but an effective one. No one missed training day anymore. 

All was normal until Andy Bernard showed up with a head cold from hell. Dressed to the nines as always, his clothes seemed to be the only thing holding him together. He was a sneezing, coughing, achy, miserable mess. The only thing that kept the rest of them from sending him home was the fact that he didn't have a fever. He would have insisted on staying, though, even if he was feverish. He had gone through all the trouble of getting here and he wasn't about to go home and do online training now. 

The rest of the employees vehemently opposed him joining them in the training room, though, visibly shedding contagion as he was. They came to a compromise after much discussion: Andy would be quarantined in the break room with a laptop for the training and still get credit for attending without infecting everyone else, an arrangement everyone felt was satisfactory, even though Kelly, Angela, and Oscar kept giving Andy dirty looks and muttering about having to decontaminate the break room that evening.

Michael was fashionably late that day and missed all the hullabaloo. He arrived just as Andy was getting settled in the break room and, after much pestering, the boss learned what was going on. Everyone saw the gears turning in Michael’s mind as they prepared to go into training, and they wondered what new foolishness was in store. 

Sure enough, about five minutes before the start time, Michael announced that he had an announcement, visibly shaking around a handful of tissues, which he'd been using to scrub at his nose for several minutes beforehand, making it a passable red. 

"I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm sick too," he said, with a fake, congested tone. "I didn't want to worry you all. But if you all are really so worried about getting sick, I'd better go in with Bernard too, just to be safe."

The staff exchanged looks, wondering if they'd heard correctly. This seemed too good to be true. 

"Well if you're sick, Michael, then you should definitely go in with Andy. We don't want to be breathing in your germs all day," Phyllis said. 

"I'm definitely sick. I tried to hide it when I first got here, but I guess the cat's out of the bag. I'm really not feeling so good. Guess I'll have to go relax in the break room for a few hours," Michael said, trying to sound convincingly pathetic. "I'm not sure how much of the training I'll hear. I might have to take a nap at some point."

"Whatever you need to do. As long as you feel better and stay away from us," Pam agreed. 

"Okay, then I guess I'll head on in there… you guys will bring us lunch at noon, right? Since I'm sure you don't want us going through the buffet line, being so sick and all." He rubbed at his nose with a loud sniffle for emphasis. 

"Oh we'll make sure you're taken care of," Stanley said. 

"I'll be standing guard by the door, Michael," Dwight said. "We can't have you escaping to shed your germs to the rest of us. The office would be in chaos."

One glance at Dwight showed that he believed Michael was truly sick, and Jim and Pam shared a secret smile at this realization. But he was playing right into what the rest of them wanted. 

"Dwight is right, Michael. You'll have to stay in there all day. Can't be too careful," Jim said. 

This made Michael pause, but they all knew he was in too deep now to backtrack. "...Okay," Michael said at last. "For the good of the team. I'll sacrifice my freedom for your health. I hope you're all thankful." He scrubbed at his nose again to make sure it stayed pink and itchy, giving them all a martyred look. 

"You better get in there. You're breathing your germs all over us every second," Kelly said.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. I'll see you all on the other side," Michael said, with an attitude of going off to war. 

Once the door was closed behind him, the staff shared a triumphant smile. A whole day free of Michael, and no chance of him making the training any worse than it had to be. It felt like Christmas had come early, at least as far as work could go.

~~~

Michael steeled himself as the door shut behind him to turn and face the visibly sick Andy. A whole day alone with Bernard would have been bad enough, but a sick Bernard would be a special sort of torture. Michael had a fleeting thought that getting out of training might not have been worth it for this, but there was no turning back now. 

Andy was clearly surprised to have company, but Michael erupted into a fake coughing fit before he could speak, then carried forward into a loud, fake sneezing fit. When he emerged from his handful of tissues (with plenty of scrubbing at his nose for good measure), Andy's gaze was sympathetic. 

"So you've got the crud too, huh? That's tough luck." Andy sniffled now, and it was far too wet-sounding to be fake, not to mention his glistening upper lip. "I wonder which one of us was patient 0."

"Huh?" Michael made his way to the sink, feeling the need to wash his hands already.

"You know, which of us got the other sick. Patient 0. The source of an infection."

"Oh! Oh it was definitely me. Yeah, I've been feeling sick since last Thursday or Friday."

"Wow, that's a long time. Yeah, then I guess it was you. I knew I shouldn't have let you sit at my desk for so long the other day." He clearly wasn't upset though and reclined in his chair, coughing and blowing his nose intermittently, never once washing his hands and leaving his tissues heaped up beside him. 

 Fifteen minutes passed, then thirty, and still the laptop screen remained blank, saying they were waiting for the presenter in the lobby. It seemed they were having technical difficulties down the hall. Clearly bored, Andy stood and began to dig through the drawers idly. 

"Hey, a deck of cards! We should play something," he said, sitting back down at the table and pushing the laptop aside, beginning to shuffle. 

"I don't know… are you sure that's a full deck?" Michael asked, unable to pull his eyes from Andy's germy hands touching every card. 

"Eh, who cares. We'll figure it out," Andy said. "C'mon, what are you, chicken? You think you can beat me even though I'm sick? No one ever beats Andy Bernard at cards. Just name the game."

Michael started to smile. "You know what, you're on, Bernard. Prepare to eat your words."

~~~

Andy's cold had a fast incubation period apparently, because the next morning it was Michael who arrived a sick, contagious mess. (Andy himself called in now that the threat of HR training had passed; apparently it was a long lasting cold too.) Michael announced his entrance with a violent sneeze that made everyone turn to look, wondering if he was continuing the charade. No such luck, though. There was no fake scrubbing needed to make his nose red and drippy, and there was no faking the wet, chesty coughing. There was also no mistaking the mischievous look in Michael's eyes as everyone was forced to witness the inevitability of this cold. 

"Michael, why are you here when you're still clearly sick?" Dwight asked in alarm.

"Oh it's not that bad. I can still work. Besides, if I had to get sick from Bernard after being trapped with him for eight hours, then the rest of you should be sick too. I am patient 0!"

"No, you're not…." Jim said in irritation. "Andy still is. You just said you caught this from him. That makes him patient 0." 

Michael glared at Jim and was trying to think of a good response when Dwight stepped between them. 

"Oh no. I will not allow this, Michael." Pulling out gloves from somewhere on his person, Dwight began to shove Michael toward his office, with Michael protesting the whole way. Once Michael was inside, pounding against the door, Dwight posted himself as a guard outside just as he had the previous day. 

A sullen-looking Michael shuffled to the window of his office to gaze forlornly out at them, wiping the back of his hand under his nose. The staff turned away one by one to return to their work, leaving their sick boss to stew in the consequences of his choices.

[fanfictasia]

Sicktember Day 29

Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Mushroom Strikes Back

They finish cutting through the droids in the area not long later, and Anakin pauses next to a tree, resting a hand against it as he starts coughing again. He really wants to sleep, but there’s no time for that.

“Are all the droids gone?”

“I’m having the boys do a perimeter sweep now,” Cody replies, approaching and taking his helmet off.

“You sure it’s safe for you to do that right now?” Anakin asks. They’re a distance away from the mushrooms now, but he doesn’t know how much of that is still contaminating the air.

“Air’s clear out here,” he replies, watching him with concern when he suppresses a cough. Though, Anakin’s beginning to get afraid that Cody was right in warning him about these things. Not that there’s anything he could have done about it anyway.

“I am… usually immune to toxins,” Anakin tells him.

“Because you’re a Jedi?” Cody asks, curiously. All the clones have a certain fascination with the Jedi; unsurprising, when this is their first time interacting with any.

“I’m… not fully human.” He doesn’t want to get into the details of how he’s different. It’s not something he likes thinking about, because he never wanted what the ‘Chosen One’ title always came with.

“Oh,” the commander supplies, but steps closer uncertainly when Anakin coughs again. “You should get some rest.”

“You should, too,” he replies, pointedly. He sits down at least, though, hoping the momentary wave of dizziness he’s feeling is going to pass. That could be from his head injury as much as the toxin, though.

Cody sits down next to him, and Anakin wasn’t really intending to fall asleep, but he wakes up at the sharp inkling of danger in the Force. He’s curled up right alongside Cody, who’s also dozing. They must’ve rolled closer to each other, because he wasn’t practically resting his head on the clone’s shoulder when he fell asleep, and nor was Cody’s arm part-way on top of him.

[unknownuncut]

Masterpost for Sicktember 2023 (UnknownUncut)

Main Series: Sicktember 2023

Day One: Hopefully Bad At Self-Care

Title: It Takes A Village Summary: Link now lives in Tarrey Town after the events of TOTK and has been quite happy for the last few years and doing quite well for himself until he realizes there's one thing he's quite bad at. Series: The Rito Family Adventures

Day Two: Quest For A Cure

Title: Tulin's Side Quest Summary: Instead of waiting for his brother and dad, Tulin decided to go on his own quest for Link's cure. Series: The Rito Family Adventures

Day Three: "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?"

Title: "Might be Dying but can still paint." Summary: Nancy got sick and accidentally texted the Hardy Boys, who were bored sitting around the house anyway and decided to come visit. Series: Cousins AU

Day Four: Hiding an illness

Title: "Hey, sorry for bothering you..." Summary: While on a case, Joe manages to get sick after exploring caves by himself while Nancy and Frank research at the library, instead of telling them, he thought it would be a great idea to hide it from them. Series: Cousins AU

Day Five: (Alt) Fuzzy Socks

Title: Fuzzy Socks for Cold Nights Summary: A little reminder of home. Series: Jack Marston

Day Six: Sick and injured

Title: I'll Wait Until You're Ready, Whenever That Shall Be. Summary: Jack slowly wraps the bandage around Linde’s hand, making sure that the burns aren’t too bad. The stove had been turned off and the iron pan had been placed into the sink. The only thing that didn’t go back to its rightful place was the phone that sat on the counter. Jack had been in the process of talking to Joseph about herding the cows back later when all this had happened. Series: Jack Marston

Day Seven: "You're a jerk when you're sick."

Title: I'd Just Want Your Heart Summary: Strangely, Jack can vaguely remember something about this back in the day. Most of that time felt like he was watching from above – all floating and in a strange sense of peace – until he came crashing back down and his father – tired, out of breath, and looking like a man who just fought hell – came bursting into the room; clinging so tightly to both Jack and his Ma. He never understood what happened that day until this very moment. Series: Jack Marston

Day Eight: Persistent fever

Title: Nothing Ever Last Forever Summary: Sean had gotten a fever at some point but things continued to get worse as time went on... Series: This Action Will Have Consequences...

Day Nine: (Alt) "I'm so sorry."

Title: Don't fret, you'll be safe here. Summary: Megatron goes on a hunt for Bumblebee for Optimus and gets more than he bargained for. Series: Grandpa Megatron/Honeybee, Wasp, Hornet

Day Ten: "The only place we're going is to the pharmacy."

Title: Laura's Crush Summary: Ernest had decided to finish school in America and ended up meeting Larua. (This is just a small snippet of their overall relationship). Series: Frankenstein (Sims Edition)

Day Eleven: Beginner's Guide to Faking Sick

Title: Nothing can get past Frank Hardy Summary: There are a few steps in faking that you’re sick. or Joe decided faking sick is the best way to deal with things. Series: Frankenstein (Sims Edition)

Day Twelve: Home Remedy/Old Wives Tales

Title: Home Remedy Summary: There's an old family recipe for sickness that got passed down through the Beaufort family. Victor had to go hunting for said remedy when Ernest got sick. Series: Frankenstein (Sims Edition)

Day Thirteen: Anxious Stomach

Title: Like Rider, Like Horse Summary: Rodeo stands before the starting line of the cross-country course and knows that something is wrong. Series: N/A

Day Fourteen: "I shouldn't be worried about you, but for some reason I am."

Title: A Normal Villain and Hero Story Summary: “I shouldn’t be worried about you,” Chaos shouts as he holds tightly to Berserk’s hand while the hero holds tightly to a sleeping toddler in the other. “But for some reason I am!” Series: The Media (Family of Troublemakers)

Day Fifteen: Sick in an inconvenient place

Title: Dial Druck Summary: Over the winter holiday, Logan hadn't any plans in place and almost everyone in the manor had left; even though that doesn't have a place to go had left for parties and whatnot. That was until Logan got a distress single from an unknown X-men and discovered that it was Scott, who was drowning himself at the bar until he made himself sick. Series: N/A

Day Sixteen: Consulting the Internet/Web Med

Title: Don't Trust Everything You Hear From The Internet Summary: All day Lady Wifi kept getting different council members to look up different things, and these last two finally broke her. Series: The Akumas of Anti-Paris

Day Seventeen: Magical Remedy/healing potion

Title: And I left you alone in a house, not a home. Summary: “With a dash of peppermint and a hint of nutmeg, we have ourselves a beautiful, and tasteful, healing potion.” Lilian smiles sweetly at the crown prince lying in bed as she swirls the bottle in hand; it’s a dazzling pink colour that changes to match her. Most potions and remedies tend to match her Ranger colours. “Take this and you’ll come all better, Your Highness.” Series: Original Power Rangers

Day Eighteen: "Wear your coat, you'll catch a cold."

Title: Together In Morning Air Summary: Four different times people told Jack to wear a coat and every time he didn't. Series: Jack Marston

Day Nineteen: Curled up with a pet.

Title: A Boy and His Dog Summary: The best sleep is when your pet is lying with you. Series: Jack Marston

Day Twenty: "I could really use a hug right about now."

Title: The Wilderness and A Blizzard Summary: Getting overwhelmed at a horse show is just part of the norm but it's nice to have friends to help you out. Series: N/A

Day Twenty-One: "But if you stay, you'll get sick too."

Title: Our Time Is Running Out Summary: John's trip to the Macfarlane Ranch went a little differently this time around. Series: A Reason To Live

Day Twenty-Two: Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Title: You've Given Me A Reason For Livin' Summary: Trying to parent in an Undead Uprising isn't the easiest thing, and John learns it the hard way. Series: A Reason To Live

Day Twenty-Three: Coughing Fit

Title: A Part of the Family Summary: The past has always been spotty and hazy as if Link is trying to grab hold of sand and watching it slip through his fingers. Even though there are a few more stable memories to draw on, there are only so many that Link could help but feel awful for not remembering more. Even now as he lay sick in bed, staring up at the ceiling of his home in Tarrey Town while listening to Saki and Teba move about in the kitchen, Link can’t help but feel like a bad person. Series: The Rito Family Adventures

Day Twenty-Four: "Did You Just Sneeze?"

Title: Little Brothers Know Everything Summary: Turns out that neither Hardy Boys is good at explaining when they are sick now it's Frank's turn. Series: Cousins AU

Day Twenty-Five: Confused/Disoriented

Title: Waking Up In A Unfamiliar World Summary: Sadie Alder has seen many things over the years; you don’t get to her age without seeing some things. The rise and fall of an era, watching a strong man crumble, losing another friend, a husband, a family, and so much more. She had made the best of her life and continued to march forward until she reached death’s door. This is why seeing Jack lying on the white bed in a far too quiet room is far too much. Series: Jack Marston

Day Twenty-Six: (Alt) Forehead Kisses

Title: I Don't Know How To Feel... Summary: After Ben left for college off-world, his mom got sick and Big Chill went to go check on her. Relation: Keep the Charm But Don't Break My Heart

Day Twenty-Seven: Uncooperative Patient

Title: It's Okay To Ask For Help Or Continuing to Be Stubborn Is Fine Too Summary: Jack doesn't return before sundown and Linde goes to find him. Series: Jack Marston

Day Twenty-Eight: "I should have stayed home."

Title: A Quick Trip To Town Summary: Saki and Link go to town. Series: The Rito Family Adventures

Day Twenty-Nine: Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

Title: Medicine Box Summary: When bored, don’t read the warning label. Series: N/A

Day Thirty: Patient 0

Title: The First Of Many To Come Summary: What had happened when John left to get a doctor from Blackwater. Series: A Reason To Live

Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day/night!

[eddysocs]

The Reluctant Patient — Lisa Vanderpump x OC

Summary: Lisa has overworked herself and is refusing to rest despite being ill, so Ken calls in reinforcements in the form of Ruby.

Word Count: 662

Warnings: None

The ornate chandeliers of Villa Rosa glittered in the morning sun, casting a soft glow over the house, but the tranquility was shattered by the sound of Lisa Vanderpump’s incessant coughing. She had been pushing herself to the brink, juggling her business ventures, philanthropic endeavors, and fully packed social calendar on top of it all. And now it had all come to this. The stress of constantly being busy had taken its toll on her, and it had developed into a cold, one she kept insisting she didn’t have.

After an early morning call from Ken, Ruby arrived at the house around nine, just as Ken was trying to talk Lisa into going back to bed. “Thank goodness you’re here,” Ken said, when Ruby found them both in Lisa's closet. “She’s been refusing to rest.”

"Color me surprised," Ruby quipped, she and Ken sharing a knowing glance Lisa's way, despite the fact that she wasn’t looking. They both knew exactly what Lisa was like. Regardless she gave Ken her most dazzling and reassuring smile.

The two of them ducked out of the closet to speak without Lisa overhearing. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she stays put.”

Ken nodded, grateful. “I’ll handle everything on her schedule for today. Just see to it she gets better.”

Ruby made her way back into Lisa’s closet, where she found her shuffling through a row of button down shirts in every shade of pink imaginable. "Ken, which one do you think I should wear. I—" Lisa stopped talking when she turned around to see that Ken had gone and Ruby now stood behind her.

“Ruby, darling, what are you doing here,” Lisa croaked, clearing her throat afterwards.

“Ken called me,” Ruby replied coolly. “Said you weren’t feeling well and I’m here to make sure you rest.”

Lisa sighed, and the hand going to her head and lingering there for a moment didn’t escape Ruby's notice. “I’m not ill," she insisted. “I have half a dozen things to do today.”

Before she could go on, Ruby piped in with, “Ken’s handling everything today.” Immediately, Lisa was set to argue. “And it will all get done,” Ruby added before she could try and convince her that she could handle everything herself. “Right now, you need to rest.”

Lisa closed her eyes, too exhausted to put up her usual fight. “Alright. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but take me to bed.” Even sick, Lisa knew how to mess with her. Ruby didn’t let her get the satisfaction that she’d feel if she saw how she’d flustered her.

She got Lisa settled under the covers of her bed, fluffing her pillows and making sure she was comfortable. She checked her temperature with the back of her hand and adjusted the blankets once more before heading downstairs to make her some herbal tea.

When she returned, Lisa was already dozing off. Ruby placed the tea on the bedside table and sat beside her, gently brushing a strand of hair from Lisa’s forehead.

Lisa’s eyes fluttered open. “Ruby…?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Ruby said softly.

“I’m feeling better,” Lisa insisted, though her overtired voice still betrayed her.

“It’s been less than an hour. I know you think you’re Wonder Woman, but I seriously doubt you got better that fast. Drink your tea.”

Lisa quietly grumbled to herself before drinking the herbal concoction meant to aid in her recovery, but the effects could not come soon enough for her liking. Any normal day she’d have Ruby running in circles doing whatever she wanted her to, but it seemed when it came to her health, Ruby wasn’t about to take any orders, except maybe Ken's.

After her tea was gone, Lisa settled down to sleep under Ruby's watchful eye. Even after she’d drifted off, Ruby stayed by her side, determined to ensure that Lisa took the proper time she needed to recover. The world could wait. Today, Lisa’s health came first.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot

[septic-skele]

Sicktember Day 4: Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday - Fran Bow

“Hah-chu!” Fran only just managed to toss her head aside so she didn’t sneeze right at Mr. Midnight. He made for a pleasant warmth on her chest but his tail had curled, tickling her nose without warning. Back bristling at the unexpected noise, he rolled hastily away to land in a fold of the blankets.

“Good grief, Fran! That might have scared off one of my nine lives!” he gasped, kneading the bedspread in agitation.

“I-I’m sorry…” She probably should have mustered the strength to reach for a hanky but the easier option was to rub her burning nose against the sheets. “It’s already scared off the ha—hah-chu!—happy start we had planned for my next year of life. Everyone put so much work toward my party, only for me to spoil it with this cold…”

She would have put on a brave face and attended anyway if Palontras hadn’t caught her in the midst of an inopportune coughing fit. Now she wouldn’t see balloons, wouldn’t get to indulge in sweet food and drink, just crackers and chamomile that she could hardly taste through the congestion.

“It’s not your fault, my dear,” Mr. Midnight protested, curling his paws over her nearest hand. “We’re disappointed for you. You deserve to have a wonderful time! We’ll have the party another day, when you’re well enough to enjoy it to the fullest.”

Sinking deeper into her propped pillows, Fran offered a paltry attempt at a smile. “If I don’t drown in all these cups of tea Itward brings me. By the time this is over, I’ll be happy not to see another teacup for months.”

Mr. Midnight paused at that, one ear twitching. “…Perhaps I’ll ask The Great Wizard to reconsider his present for you then, however intricately carved it may be.”

[alright-anakin]

Sicktember 2021 Day 29: Motion Sickness

@sicktember

Day Twenty Nine: Motion Sickness

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” Ahsoka said excitedly.

“You’re not missing much,” Anakin said stiffly.

“Come on, Master, it seems cool.” She frowned and looked up at him. “You know, I assumed you’d be interested in this. I mean, imagine how these things are made to move. I mean, it’s massive. How does it stay on water and not sink? And how big must the engines be to get it moving?”

“Same way the Resolute is able to travel through space,” he said dismissively.

“Well, I’m still excited.”

“Nothing exciting about being on a big boat with a bunch of Senators.”

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[zartophski]

Sicktember Drabbles, Day Nine: Home Remedy

Wind brought the spoon to his lips, tasting his creation with intense concentration. It had to be perfect. He let the soup sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing, assessing the flavors and spices. He grinned, nodding to himself. 

“Soup’s ready!” he exclaimed, filling a couple bowls before carefully carrying them to his sick companions. Wild smiled through the flush on his cheeks, taking two bowls and passing the second to a groggy Twilight. 

“Thank you, Sailor,” Time signed as he took a bowl. 

“It’s my grandma’s recipe,” Wind said proudly. “You’ll be feeling better in no time!”