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mikrokoskooks · 1 year

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Just Dance, It'll be okay

Sickie: Taehyung

Caretaker: Ot7

Tw: Emeto, scat, medically inaccurate, slight blood.

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For Today's RUN BTS, the guys would be doing just dance. They'd been split into 2 teams: Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook in one and Jin Yoongi Joon and Jimin in the other.

All they had to do was score high points on the dances and then the winning team would be rewarded with a special gift from the staff. That be totally easy, right?

Wrong. They almost weren't able to film because Taehyung kept complaining about how his stomach felt sore and heavy. Now usually, the members would've let him stay in the dorm but filming that episode was the only thing they had left to do that day sit the boys decide they should all just go and Taehyung could just rest between takes if he needed to.

So now, Taehyung's busting his guts trying to keep up with Jungkook and Hobi's dance moves. "How are you guys dancing so fast?" he says in deep amazement." It's just skill hyung." Jungkook giggles.

"4 stars not too bad" Hoseok chuckles to himself, all his years of dancing were to thank for such a high score. "Good job Hoba four stars are great, but my team's definitely gonna get 5," Jin says, playfully hitting Hoseok's shoulder. "Oh, you're so on hyung!" The twos banter is soon interrupted by Taehyung mumbling something about needing the bathroom and him swiftly walking off.

While eavesdropping on his hyungs conversation the vocalist's stomach started bubbling, causing everything inside of him to be stirred up and pushed down. When he arrived at the toilets he managed to catch a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror before running into a stall. He didn't look too bad.

The second Taehyung sits on the toilet his stomach cramps and warm mush begins to leave his body at a rapid pace. He can't remember the last time he had the runs but he's pretty sure it never sucked this much. Luckily for him though, it ends as quickly as it started.

As Tae washes his hands he looks at his face in the mirror again he looks bad now, his face was pale, his cheeks were flushed and to top it all off he was beginning to feel nauseous. God, how was he going to keep filming this episode?

After giving himself a small pep talk taehyung walks back into the filming room his hand placed discreetly on his stomach. "Hey Taehyung, how're you feeling?" Namjoon asks he'd been waiting for the boy to see how he was holding up since earlier.

"I don't feel that well hyung, Taehyung mumbled, can we.. go home, please. Namjoon looks at the second youngest, it's true he doesn't look well at all but they only have one dance left to film so they can't leave yet.

"Aw, Taehyungie, I'm so sorry but we can't leave yet, Namjoon starts guiltily, We have one dance left to film then we can go okay?" Taehyung doesn't say anything he only nods his head gently and walks off plastering on a fake smile ready for the cameras.

Namjoon truly does feel bad for not taking Taehyung home but the director is strict and won't let them without a valid reason and something tells him a stomach ache won't count as a good enough excuse. Hopefully, Tae could cope with one last dance.

>>>

If the was a hole in the ground right now taehyung would 100 per cent let it swallow him. This last dance was taking a real toll on his already aching belly. The dance had way too many spins and jumps in it and it was making him feel extremely unwell.

As the song starts to come to a close the boy can't withstand the pain anymore and doubles over cradling his abdomen, causing his teammates to look at him in complete shock and worry. "Woah there, are you okay tae?" "My s-stomach hurts"

Hoseok and Jungkook and everyone else except Namjoon had forgotten the main vocalist wasn't feeling the best. Jimin runs over to the boy and hugs him before cooing "My poor Taehyungie" Taehyung hugs his friend back and pulls away shortly after.

"Can we go home now, please?" No one hesitates to say yes as they grab their stuff and leave. The car ride back to the dorm is filled with lots of apologies to Taehyung, which are answered with a simple "It's okay" Or "it's fine".

Taehyung knows how tight the director is so he can't blame Namjoon or anyone else for the fact he couldn't go home early. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment, what he was really worried about was what was wrong with him.

He assumes it's just a stomach bug, he has all the symptoms after all; Nausea stomach cramps, diarrhoea and he was pretty sure he was running a fever. How he managed to catch this bug was unknown but it didn't feel good at all.

>>>

As the car pulls into the driveway the ailing boy lets out a sigh of relief. He was beginning to get carsick before but now that the car had stopped his nausea had calmed down too.

"So how are you feeling now Taehyung-ah," Seokjin asks. "My stomach really hurts hyung and I feel sick." The oldest takes in the information and tries to think of a reasonable diagnosis for his dongsaeng.

He opens his mouth to speak before being cut off by Yoongi, "Maybe you just need to take a fat shit? He says bluntly Everyone looks at the rapper in disbelief there is no way he's just said that.

"I already did earlier, I had the runs" Taehyung says his face turning read with embaressment. Hoseok walks over to the boy and feels his forehead, he clicks his tounge. "I think you've caught a tummy bug Tae"

Taehyung hums and lays down on the sofa before gagging and suddenly bolting up. "I- I'm gonna be sick" he mumbles Jungkook quickly runs and grabs a waste bin for his hyung.

The vocalist grabs it and begins to retch into it bringing up a large amount vomit followed by a thin stream of acid that burns his throat.

The members all mutter sweet muses and kind words to him but they're drowned out by the sound of sick hitting the bin.

Eventually, Tae places the bin on the ground and curls up on himself. The guys exchange nervous glances before Jimin speaks up, "I think you should eat something sweetie" Taehyung groans and shakes his head "I'm not hungry"

"Taehyung I really think you should eat something," Yoongi explains he was starting to get worried. Yoongi was never one to publicly show sensitivity but with the members he always would, especially the maknae line. "Alright hyung.."

>>>

All the members sit around the dining table eating the bulgogi that Jin had just made with the help of Jungkook. Well almost everyone, Taehyung did manage to eat a couple mouthfuls of food but then decided to stop. His stomach hurt way too much.

A small fruit fly flies past jimin causing him to look up in doing so he spots his fellow 95 liner staring blankly at the food in front of him "How come you're not eating?" "I think I've lost my appetite" Tae answers resting his head on the table.

"Aw you poor thing, Namjoon says sweetly, maybe you should go for a nap" The younger boy nods and starts to get up but then he's hit by a sudden wave of nausea just like earlier. He walks swiftly to the sink and begins to bring up the few bits of his dinner.

Nobody moves over to help him, not because they don't toof it's just that they're In too much shock and worry to move.

As he continues to puke Taehyung senses an odd taste in his mouth which makes him feel dizzy. He clamps his hand over his mouth and swallows repetitively before glancing down at small streaks of blood that were in the sink. He had just vomited blood.

Everyone notices the colour drain from Taehyungs face and exchange nervous glances. Jungkook speaks up "Taehyungie hyung, are you okay?" Taehyung just points to the sink he can't bring himself to speak. The youngest walks over and looks cautiously at what he's pointing at before saying "We're gonna need a hospital."

After looking at the vomit Jungkook starts to feel a little sick himself but ignores it and leads Taehyung out to get his shoes on. The others stand up to leave too and as they do take a glance at the messed-up sink. Now they see why they were going.

>>>

After a chaotic ride to the hospital, they made it. As soon as they walk in a nurse is already waiting for them turns out Jungkook had called them in advance while helping tae with his shoes.

Taehyung is immediately checked out and diagnosed with appendicitis which he needs surgery for straight away. The nurse also tells the group that they brought him in at the right time as his appendix was almost at the point of bursting.

Everyone gives the sicky boy a gentle hug before he's brought onto the surgery room. "He'll be alright,seokjin says with a smile, Taehyung's super strong" Namjoon and Hoseok hum in agreement.

>>>

Taehyung opens his eyes and looks around in confusion, why was he in a hospital bed and why did he feel so sore? He tries to sit up but is stopped by someone who gently pushes him back down. They smell like frosting it was Yoongi.

"Woah there buddy, you don't want to rip your stitches." Taehyung looks around at his hyungs and Jungkook were they going mad, he doesn't have stitches. "What?" "You got your appendix out Tae, as Yoongi hyung and Jimin" Hoseok explains.

"So Yoongi hyung and Jiminie are my appendicitis sunbaenims?" Taehyung asks still pretty high on anaesthetic. They all laugh at Tae's cuteness. "Yes Tae Tae, yes we are" Jimin giggles.

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Just wanna say I think this is the longest fic I've ever written. Like girl, idek how many words there are but I hope you all enjoyed this 💜

Edit: wait now I'm looking at it and it don't look that long TwT the struggles real💀

#sick!taehyung #caretaker!ot7 #bts emeto #tw emeto ment #sickfic #mentions of vomit #bts sickfic #im backkkk #bts #not medically accurate #appendicitis #slight scat

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alexandersimpleton · 1 year

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Not quite so different

Frederick isn't really cursed like the rest of the CPC, but maybe he isn't so different from them.

Frederick woke up, exited for another meeting with Gwen that day. It wasn't for anything important, but Jack had been in a good mood when he scheduled it and thought a short visit would be nice, especially so he could beat Leland at chess again.

He got dressed in one of his many green plaid jackets, took his... pills... and headed down for breakfast, where nothing of note happened, fitting the (relatively, Blain saw a huge bear or something in the forest somewhere) uneventful carriage ride to the pastel palace.

"Jackie!" "Leeloo!"

The kings embraced in the center of the room, while the princes met with their eventual fiances

"Hey Lorena! I saw a huge bear on the way here!"

So Lance and Lorena got into a heated discussion about the big bear, and Blain and Maria talked about... whatever those two talk about, but Gwen was nowhere to be found.

"Uh, where's Gwen?"

"Oh, she had to go to her fancy princess school today." Maria said.

"Fancy princess school?"

And a chime in from Lorena "Yeah the Cos- Cosma- Cosmo-"

Before Blain but in with "the Cosmopolitan Princess Conservatory. Has no one told you this before?"

Cosmopolitan Princess Conservatory...

CPC

Cursed Princess Club!

She must have had something important there!

"Oh! Now I remember!" But just to be safe "They were the school from that dinner party that Gwen held, right?"

"Yeah, them"

I'll just... um... go outside and read a book! Yeah I probably packed a couple in the carriage."

Luckily, his bad lying was taken for having thought of the idea of the top of his head (which it was, but they didn't need to know that), so he was let out to "read a book".

He, instead, immediately booked it for the CPC. A bit to fast

And as he finally found the club, already winded, because of course he was, he looked though the trees and found at least most of the club (that Whitney ended up joining apparently) sitting at desks while a woman, Prez he thinks, gave a lecture about something or other. Frederick was suddenly glad he wasn't in this club, be a use he can not focus on lectures.

They seem kind of busy. Maybe he should just go-

"Hey kiddo! Get out here!" The Lady giving the lecture called.

"Yeah! If we aren't free from her lectures, neither are you!" The only non-whitney boy that Frederick couldn't get the name of called along with the Prez's.

"Ahh!" Frederick stumbled out of the forest and into the clearing. "Sorry, I didn't think- uh-"

"Frederick!?" The most beautiful girl in the seats exclaimed.

Frederick only let himself get flustered at her beauty for a few moments though before "Why are you here?!"

"Um... my family was visiting today, and your sisters said you were here, and I can leave if you want, but I just figured that I'd-"

"Oh, you're not leaving Frederick! You're stuck listening to us whether you like it or not!"

"U-um- ok..."

Frederick saw that all the desks were filled, and just sat criss cross next to the beautiful girl, which he did remember the name of. It was Gwen.

But as the lecture droned on, Frederick felt his nose getting rather itchy. Allergies! They shouldn't be a problem for him, but with his condition-

Suddenly, Frederick bursted out into a fit of coughs, and all of them sounded painful. "U-um- just- just allergies! Nature doesn't like me very *cough* very much..." Frederick just managed to get out before more coughs.

Nobody knew what to do, all being concerned but still clueless as to what was going on, except Whitney, who had spent a long time with nerses, and knew something was very wrong.

He got up from his seat in the back, and knelt next to Frederick, with a clear sense of urgency, and Frederick started leaning on his chest, and drawing his legs together, clearly in pain

"Frederick, do you have any meds on you?"

Frederick gave a very slight, but still noticable nod and tried to reach into his pant pocket, but got interrupted by more coughing. Whitney reached into the pocket, and took out what looked to be a small pill bottle, opening it and slowly helping Frederick swallow one.

Whitney helped Frederick into the CPC building and helped Frederick in the couch, as the coughing slowly tapered off, leaving Frederick breathing heavily, which slowly stopped as well.

After a little while if recovering, Frederick slowly made his way out of the building. He was royally screwed wasn't he?

Gwen ran up to him, before remembering something Whitney had told her earlier while Frederick was recovering about not rushing him, and stopped in front of him, before the rest of the club followed her. "Frederick, are you ok?!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm- I'm fine..." Frederick attempted to speed walk away from the situation and hope to never see the club again out of embarrassment. He failed

Prez grabbed his arm "Oh, you are not getting away just like that. Explain. Now."

Frederick never realized Prez was so scary.

"It's... Um...." Frederick mumbled something under his breathe, breaking eye contact. "You're gonna need to explain a little louder bud."

"..." After a bit of hesitation

"I HAVE SOME STUPID CHRONIC ILLNESS AND ITS REALLY EMBARRASSING SO PLEASE DON'T TELL ANYONE!" The boy yelled, and immediately clapped his hands over his mouth and shrank away from Prez. "I get it if you judge me for it though... Everyone else does..."

"Oh kid... We're not gonna judge you for something like that..."

Another CPC member, Abbi, speaks up "yeah Fredy. If you're not judging us for our cursed, than why should we judge you for yours."

"It isn't a curse, it's an actual illness. You just have a curse that makes you look older than you are, Jolie's just missing her eyes, and Saffron just has a weird hand, but this... I can't run to fast, I can't even try to fight anything without passing out, heck, I wasn't even allowed to leave my bed until middle school!" Frederick started to tear up "I'm broken..."

Stunned, most of the CPC just looked at the boy, before Prez hugged him like she'd never hugged anyone before, and brought them both to the ground, as Frederick started to cry into her shoulder. "You're not broken Frederick. Nobody is." Gwen than hugged Frederick to, clearly crying as well, followed by the rest of the club.

"Hey, let's skip the rest of the lecture today."

And so, they mainly just spent the rest of the day relaxing the CPC building, until it was time for Frederick to go home, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as broken as he thought.

#Prez #the cursed princess club #cursed princess club #cpc #prince frederick #cpc frederick #fanfiction #Frederick/Gwen (Cursed Princess Club)#Gwen (Cursed Princess Club)#Calpernia (Cursed Princess Club)#Whitney (Cursed Princess Club)#Medical Inaccuracies #Frederick's illness is not one or based off of one that exists irl #Hurt/Comfort #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #Chronically ill Frederick (Cursed Princess Club)#Not medically accurate #again #no beta we die like Frederick's self esteem

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parisoonic · 7 months

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im skipping halloween and mentally going straight to winter

#tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #team fortress 2 #i know it'd be accurate for scout but i refuse to engage with farenheit #I FINALLY drew pyro!!!#this post marks the first full body images ive done and the first pyro drawing...progress....#trying out some new brushes and seeing where they take me #red oktoberfest

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jaratedeguadalupe · 9 months

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my first contribution to the fandom in 5 year,,,,,,,,,, how are we looking so far

#ik heavy loves his crazy malewife and this isn't canonically accurate but it had to be done #i spent so much time on drawing the right shoulder only for it to be obscured by the glass #it was fun though so it's okay lol #this has been done to death but here's my rendition #tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 art #tf2 memes #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #heavymedic #team fortress 2 #red oktoberfest #heavy #medic

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luna-lovegreat · 8 months

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I love how warriors is the one who always asks paramedic-style questions when someone’s hurt

He’s asking questions not just to distract, but to see how bad the wound has impacted mental functioning “maybe we should be worried, because that’s not what I asked”

Calling by name to draw attention, asking easy questions…

Like look at his face in each panel, how closely he’s watching while talking to assess the damage

He’s always the one taking action in first aid (though obviously he can’t do magic stuff like hyrule but outside of that it’s him)

Wars is a captain, he’s trained and has had to take care of wounded, so he knows how to take care of not only the physical but the mental impact of injuries as well, and he always comes through for it.

I just kinda think that’s pretty cool

(Credit to Linkeduniverse au)

#not the best post I know #but it’s kind of like cool how the character are completely accurate to how game canon would make them act in certain situations #wars is the ones to strategize and provide medical response #four works as a team constantly #the attention to detail is just insane #linked universe #linkeduniverse #Lu #Lu wars #Lu warriors #Lu twilight #Lu time #loz

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jayden-writes · 5 months

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fragile

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)

summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.

Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.

Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”

Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.

“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.

Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.

“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.

Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.

“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.

“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.

Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.

Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.

It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.

“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.

“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”

“Huh? Come again?”

“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.

“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.

“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.

“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.

“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.

“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”

“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”

“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”

Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.

“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.

“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.

“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”

“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”

He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.

“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”

Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.

Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.

“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.

“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Fine…” you breathed.

“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”

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