#prompt: group sickfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blossomwritesthings · 1 year

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Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him.

But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night.

When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin.

You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle.

Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’

“Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months.

But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

“You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym.

And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat.

“Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?”

You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym.

As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee.

Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light.

Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright.

But everything was not alright.

This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

Fuck.

It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl.

And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music.

Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you.

But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym.

It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him.

To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights.

Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters.

You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces.

A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle.

Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?”

“Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice.

“And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely.

“I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear.

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.”

“Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.”

You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.”

He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office.

You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?”

“Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

“I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship.

The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold.

At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected.

You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot.

But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you.

“And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun.

“I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards.

You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you.

“I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

“Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…”

You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss.

Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.”

A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before.

So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you.

And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around.

You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly.

You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak.

Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you.

Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again.

And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks.

Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone.

“It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street.

But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench.

He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval.

Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot.

And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle.

The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?”

A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.”

Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable.

Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours.

“Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot.

Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive.

“O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot.

“Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car.

“Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.”

After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out.

During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead.

“And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.”

“I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed.

"I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…”

Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.”

“And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?”

His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage.

Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future.

Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.”

“And how do you know that, mister?”

“Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.”

“Well, maybe I’m the exception.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.”

The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble.

He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.”

Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…”

Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?”

“Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him.

“Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

“Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands.

“Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.”

A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?”

You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.”

He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?”

You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?”

Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.”

You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves.

“Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?”

“How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.”

Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss.

Fin.

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breannasfluff · 1 month

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An Unlikely Den

For the raviolishipweek prompts. Rated T for sickfic.

Spring. New life. New beginnings. New dens.

Ravio flutters his hands as he paces, then strangles his scarf for nothing better to do. Spring means denning season. Spring means danger, in Lorule. Sure, he’s staying with Mr. Hero, now, but denning is common in both realms.

Ravio’s only heard fairytales, whispered late at night by those romantic enough to still believe, on what denning season should be.

A time for a pack to settle and rest. While alphas have a challenge season in the fall, fighting for pack positions, omegas have denning season in spring. The urge to nest grows stronger. Find someplace safe and quiet and settle down to relax. It’s a time to dote on pups if a pack has any. Otherwise, it’s time to tell stories and bond, taking a break from daily life.

At least, that’s what the fairytales say.

Lorule is nothing like that. In a land that’s slowly dying, alphas are rewarded for being cruel. Betas are just as bad, jockeying to take an alpha’s position while suppressing the deltas below. Deltas snap at each other as much as those above and below them. Pack means little when everyone is clawing for the top.

Omegas are at the bottom. Pups spent as little time as omegas as possible, fighting out their siblings to rise in ranks, or breaking off to find new pack gangs. Children are raised with harsh discipline and raised voices. Outside of children, omega status is reserved for those forced out of upper positions as punishment.

Or cowards, if you are Ravio. The constant power struggle terrifies him. The way packs treat each other; it’s barely a step above stabbing each other in the back.

Hilda is an alpha and, for a while, took care of Ravio. He’d been a delta, hoping to learn and grow into a beta.

But then Yuga came along, poisoning Hilda against him. He was pushed out and down till he reached omega status. There he remains.

Even with that adventure over and Lorule saved, he’s terrified of reaching above his station again. One apology from Hilda doesn’t outweigh the multitude of times he’s heard disparaging jabs about his lack of skills.

Ravio is still dithering when footsteps echo and the front door opens.

“I’m heading out for a bit,” Link calls. “Need anything?”

“No thank you!” Is his voice strangled? Will Link catch the agitation in his scent?

The door closes and Link leaves, none the wiser.

Ravio sags against a wall, untangling his hands from his scarf. He doesn’t have the easy neutrality of a delta that Link does, so he’s stuck with omega instincts. That means denning.

If only Sheerow were here to keep him company, but the bird is gone carrying a message to Hilda. She’ll be back in a few days, by which point Ravio should be back to normal.

Dens should be a safe place for a pack to rest together. Plenty of pillows and soft blankets, encouraging lounging or napping. Alphas help keep the omegas cool, promoting large cuddle piles and further group bonding.

As an omega in Lorule, denning is a terrifying risk. Dens can never be in the same place twice, lest they are discovered.

Lorulians take a vindictive pleasure in turning out adult omegas to suffer in the inhospitable land. As a society, the idea that you earned this burns strong.

Ravio’s long grown to resent denning. As a child, it was enjoyable; a time to be taken care of and coddled—as much as any children in Lorule are coddled.

As an adult, it’s another reminder of his place in society and how fleeting safety can be. Without a pack, he is forced to curl up in small nooks and crannies, sweating or clutching an ice rod for a chill. The threat of discovery always looms.

Link’s era is wonderful, but there’s been no mention of denning season being any different. Ravio needs to prepare for the worst.

Read the rest here!

#raviolishipweek #ravioli ship #linked universe #linkeduniverse #ravioli #loz ravio #albw ravio #ravio x link #raviolink #ravio zelda #ravio #ravio x legend #albw #albw link #loz albw #breannasfluff #my writing

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triforce-of-mischief · 2 months

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[@hyah-lian requested a sickfic prompt; Far/Rabbit/Ordon down with the flu and ending up with grumpy cuddles]

****

Their tent was a miserable place to be. Rabbit stood his ground near the entrance, arguing with Smith to let him out. If it wasn't for whoever was their assigned guard at the moment, Far would've snuck out a while ago, and Ordon was likely to follow. At least he had a tent. Though company wasn't preferable, he had chosen his companions so this was who Far was stuck with.

Only Minish, the lucky thing, had managed to avoid the sickness that the other three had woken up with. They were trapped in their quarantine until they got better or the rest of the group came down with it too.

Rabbit broke into a fit of coughing, inadvertently letting Smith win. He collapsed onto his bedroll, breathing hard after it passed.

"They won't let me out," Rabbit groaned. "Not even to get some water. We're to ask for it to be brought to us."

"C'mon, we can't have everybody getting sick," Far said tiredly, and glanced at Ordon.

Far and Ordon had butted heads earlier, when they had noticed each others' predicaments. Ordon had been so overbearing that Far had been freaked out a bit, but he had retaliated by simply giving Ordon the exact same treatment. Ordon had shifted to his wolf form after his attempts to coddle Far were thwarted, and they had retreated to opposite corners of the tent.

Ordon gave a weak growl. Far gave him a lopsided grin right back.

"But I can still do things!" Rabbit protested. "Look at me, I'm fine! I'm barely sick!"

"You'll hit your fever soon enough," Far said, and Ordon huffed agreement.

Rabbit coughed again, and Far made a considering noise.

"Hey Ordon, what say we both get what we want?" Far said quietly, gesturing at Rabbit.

Ordon flicked an ear and heaved himself up. He crept behind Rabbit, who was completely unaware, and easily took his sleeve between his teeth. He gently tugged and Rabbit had no choice but to stumble over to where Far was waiting.

"Ordon, don't you dare!" Rabbit hissed as Ordon slipped behind him and shoved him into Far's arms. "Far, you're roasting, now isn't the time for cuddles-"

Far laughed softly, holding his squirming partner tight. "We're all stuck in here together, we might as well."

#that broken promise #tbp #tbp far #tbp rabbit #tbp ordon #fable writes #mayo clinic says im not allowed to make anybody throw up #grumpiest cuddle pile <3 #(ordon jumps on top)

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whumpay · 1 year

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WHUMPAY 2023

Well, this is earlier than usual… But, as a thanks for all y’all’s help getting prompts together, I’ve decided to release the list earlier! And, well… With the new ‘Extreme Edition’ addition, I figured a bit more prep time may be warranted.

Rules:

You only have to use one (Or two, if you’re doing the extreme edition.) prompt a day! But you’re welcome to use multiple if you want to, and it still counts for both.

I know the description of the blog says it’s a writing event, but if you want to draw or make other kinds of content, that’s cool too.

Have fun, tag content warnings (such as noncon, graphic violence, etc) and try not to be crushed by the mortifying ordeal of posting your writing.

This is a pretty chill event so you can start posting whenever but I’ll be reblogging posts made to the #Whumpay2023 tag throughout May.

EXTREME EDITION: Made to be used together with the normal prompt list, the extreme edition prompt list has 31 types of whumpees for you to use. This is entirely optional, and you don’t necessarily need to do them in order. I know it says bonus points, but it basically is just bragging rights.

(Prompt list under the cut.)

GROUP ONE: PHYSICAL WHUMP

Day 1: Heatstroke

Day 2: Asphyxiation

Day 3: Physical Torture

Day 4: Passing Out From Pain

Day 5: Near-Death Experience

GROUP TWO: MENTAL WHUMP

Day 6: Psychological Torture

Day 7: Betrayal

Day 8: Claustrophobia

Day 9: Lotus-Eater Machine

Day 10: Trapped In Own Body

GROUP THREE: WHUMPER TYPE

Day 11: Intimate Whumper

Day 12: Good Whumper / Bad Whumper

Day 13: Reluctant Whumper

Day 14: Vengeful Whumper

Day 15: Unintentional Whumper

GROUP FOUR: CARETAKER TYPE

Day 16: Bad Caretaker

Day 17: Parental Caretaker

Day 18: Reluctant Caretaker

Day 19: Carewhumper

Day 20: Enemy-To-Caretaker

GROUP FIVE: SICKFIC

Day 21: Working Through Illness

Day 22: Surgery

Day 23: Worse Than It Seems

Day 24: Allergic Reaction

Day 25: Deadly Illness

GROUP SIX: SICK FIC

Day 26: Scars

Day 27: “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Day 28: Self-Isolation

Day 29: “I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

Day 30: Nightmares

Day 31: Forced Relaxation

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

X. Sadistic Choice

X. Epistolary

X. Dehydration

X. Anger Born Of Worry

X. Death Wish

X. Stress Position

X. Gore

X. Just Out Of Reach

X. Hurt/Comfort

X. Magical Whump

EXTREME EDITION:

Whumpee Type:

Day 1. Vampire

Day 2. Young

Day 3. Stoic

Day 4. Winged

Day 5. Whumper-To-Whumpee

Day 6. Immortal

Day 7. Defiant

Day 8. Demon

Day 9. Villain

Day 10. Possessed

Day 11. Multiple Whumpees

Day 12. Robot/AI

Day 13. Cowboy

Day 14. Team Leader

Day 15. Werewolf

Day 16. Team Outcast

Day 17. Mermaid

Day 18. Asshole

Day 19. Fairy

Day 20. Hero

Day 21. Healer

Day 22. Soft

Day 23. Comedian

Day 24. Compliant

Day 25. Monster

Day 26. Traumatized

Day 27. Touch-Starved

Day 28. Stockholm Syndrome-d.

Day 29. Vengeful

Day 30. Ghost

Day 31. Alien

#whump #whumping #whump prompts #whump writing #whump event #whumpay #whumpay2023

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weekend-whip · 10 months

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Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 4

Prompts: Fluff / Cole Recs! (i'm sure I'll be seeing a lot of my favorite fics today aaaa)

Fluff Recs-

Good Hair Day: Kai helps Skylor do her hair, based entirely on a headcanon of Kai being good at doing hair (hey, his own style is a choice)

Little Brother: Lloyd realizes the perks of having five older siblings. Lots of sweet family fluff and young!Lloyd shenanigans <3

Nya, Kai, and That One Drink: Including this one specifically because it's probably the most lighthearted thing I've written yet that doesn't involve Jesse snknksnskn, the group goes for takeout in the X-1 Ninja Charger, only for one thing to lead to another and Kai winds up forgetting Nya's drink. What's a brother to do now?

Socks: Wu wearily but delightfully is forced to watch the ninja get way too much merriment out of a ridiculous pair of socks (I, personally, am of the belief that they belong to Lloyd, but—)

Five Times Jay Cheered Someone Up: And the one time he was cheered up in return (i am DISTRESSED that i didn't include this on my Jay list aaaaAAAA)

Five Times Lloyd Was a Pain: And the one time he wasn't. Child!Lloyd for the soul in this one!!!!

There's Insurance For That: In which Skylor gets a taste of the life of a ninja (and learning just how many places they've been banned from in Ninjago) Quite possibly my favorite lighthearted Skylor fic!!!

Cole Recs-

Sick Days: Sickfic, featuring Cole and having to contend with "Being useless", and the doting care

Passing On the Hammer: Cole has a meeting with his grandfather, while Jay tries his hand at being a fisherman and Kai thinks he can do the Triple Tiger Sashay. (Really a fic about Cole and his family's legacy, but Kai and Jay's antics are too hilarious not to mention snksnknksnk)

You're An Excellent Chef, Really *screams loudly* UGNH one of my very favorite fics exploring Cole and Zane's dynamic, will recommend every single time!!!! But, it's basically the duo bonding over cooking over the years. Makes my heart very happy <3

Quiet Weirdo: Cole and Nya friendship fic that the world definitely needs more of!!!!

Adjusting: PILOT BONDING, this time Cole flavored!! Cole's thoughts on his new budding team consisting of a chatty blue guy and the guy that won't stop staring at things. But a guy like Cole has never needed friends anyway, so he's got nothing to worry about, right?

Again and Again: MORE PILOTS BONDING but this time with Glacier! People keep asking me how Cole fell in love with Zane in Legacyverse and my mind always drifts back to a thing similar to this story! My personal investment aside, a nice fluffy fic about how Cole met Zane and they became friends with a touch of pining <3

You Worry Too Much: By the author of Chips and Salsa (another fandom Cole/Glacier classic), here we have a another tale centered around Cole's parents while he was growing up, and though it's a little more about Lou than anyone else, Cole ofc has a huge stake in the story and uwaah I love reading about Cole's family dynamics (both the fluff and the tragedy)

Some Climb Mountains: A retelling of how Cole met Master Wu, always gets me misty eyed because i am a soft soul ;v;

Cole and the Tastiest Broken Glass: S2 Pre-Child's Play, Cole and Lloyd bond over broken things, life philosophy, and candy. Cole and Lloyd sibling duo that the world also needs much more og!!

I'm Sure He Knows: More Cole + Wu bonding that speaks to me specifically, involving a conversation about a certain ghostly wind master who is no more.

Four Times Cole Helped The Guys With a Nightmare: And the one time they helped him. Cole's character at his purest in this one!!!

#ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #ninjago fanfiction #fic recs #ninjago fic rec week #cole brookstone #fluff #just reading all of these reminds me of how and why i write cole #(which also includes a few fics i'm saving for later days aaaAAAA)

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esbee-daisy · 10 months

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Second attempt at tumbling a sickfic prompt. Do we use that as a verb here? Anyway…

It’s the holidays! Let’s say Christmas or thanksgiving. Modern day. Big group of tight knit friends. But all going separate ways for the holidays.

A gets a text from C…turns out B hadnt been feeling well the last few days, and after C already left to go to their family’s holiday, found out B was uninvited from their own family’s holiday plans because they’re sick.

Everyone knows B is the caretaker of the group but is hopeless about taking care of themselves. A needs little persuasion from C to go over and check on B, especially since A is the only one still in town. Also doesn’t hurt that A has had a (unknowingly mutual) crush on B for years.

A goes over with meds and comfort food, all ready for a fun movie night with some extra forced pampering, but is not at all prepared for what they actually find

Maybe B comes to the door after an agonizingly long time, barely able to support their own weight against the doorframe, clearly feverish and dizzy from the short walk to open up. Bright red cheeks against a sickly white face. Glassy, unfocused eyes.

Or maybe B doesn’t come to the door at all, but luckily A knows where the hide-a-key is and let’s themselves in. Only to find B asleep, or are they unconscious? On the couch. Buried under blankets and looking absolutely pathetic and miserable and so small. Sweating and shivering profusely.

A gets to work straightaway trying to support B to their actual bed. It’s freezing in the foyer and B is already shaking relentlessly. If B is unconscious, maybe they come-to in A’s arms, but fever is so high they don’t recognize them right away and try to struggle out their grasp. Maybe A wasn’t expecting the sudden struggle and drops B who whacks their head and only ends up more petrified.

Or if B is awake initially, A pulls them up to get them into bed, only for B to crumple to the ground absolutely overcome with lightheadedness.

B can barely process that A is there since last they heard, everyone was out of town. They undersold how sick they were when they talked to C because they knew if they expressed how bad it really was, C would cancel their own plans and B would never want anyone to do that for them. Even though they would and have done it for all their friends in the past.

Maybe B starts crying hysterically when they realize A may be sacrificing their own holiday plans to care for them. Trying to push them away when really all they want is to be held and taken care of. Their own family doesn’t care enough about them to even have them in their home when ill…why would A want to be around them?

Maybe A is tracking B’s fever, which starts in the 103’s and gradually starts creeping up as the night goes on. There’s talk of bringing B to the hospital but as soon as that’s mentioned, it sends B into a delirious panic attack. Their body is already weak and ravaged by illness and really can’t handle the stress the panic is putting on their system. Their already pale face becomes positively ashen, their ragged breaths become whistling wheezes, and theyre trembling so hard A is afraid they’re going to crack a rib. Maybe the only way to get B to calm down is for A to promise not to bring them to the hospital. Maybe A remembers B has some trauma with doctors and feels awful for not recalling to begin with. So now A is faced with caring for B alone despite the fact that their already precarious health seems to be declining fast.

A promises to do everything they can to take care of B themself, but that means B has to stop fighting them at every turn

That means letting A feed them. It’s clear B hasn’t eaten properly in days and their weak body desperately needs the nourishment. But their hands are too weak to hold a spoon up to their mouth, even trying to push themselves up with their arms to sit results in the room spinning and B losing consciousness for a brief moment. A moment in which A is besides themselves with worry and trying to frantically rouse them while also being gentle as to not hurt or scare B

That means letting A give them a cold bath or shower to get the fever down when things keep getting worse. Maybe B tries to walk themselves only to collapse into a heap on the ground, trembling like a leaf from the exertion. A bridal carries B to the bathroom and is concerned by how little they seem to weigh. How uncoordinated and limp all their limbs are

That means letting A see them at their most vulnerable, rattled with nightmares and tears and delirious ramblings at night and allowing A to comfort them back into a restless sleep. With gentle touches, hair stroking, promises that they’re safe and not alone. That they won’t leave them no matter what. That they deserve to be taken care of.

I could go on and on but this is supposed to be a prompt I think so…I’ll stop here?

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laceadornedvampire · 1 month

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idv dynamic masterpost

character tags: i have not been tagging anything gonna be real. there is an au for a ghost town under #ghosttownau though

kreiburg redesign by @ollie-draws-things as are all other redesigns :3

ghost hunting saga with kreiburg

victor & andrew centric discussion (includes victor centered tea shop au)

luca redesign

emil redesign

andrew redesign

earliest discussion of the ale friend group (bounces between all 3 of them)

average victor and norton interaction (may be irrelevant)

luca sickfic concept + discussion of his time in prison, brief talk of emil and andrew + their fight or flight trauma responses

short convo about blankets and their favorite foods (may be slightly irrelevant)

canon andrew info!

brief mention of andrew's schoolplace trauma

another brief instance of schoolplace trauma directly connected to above post (this came days later)

luca headcanons! (courtesy of @olliesneweyes)

brief mention of luca things

second instance of ale dynamics (also may be irrelevant....)

andrew luca emil scarring and injury discussion

victor grantz was in the mob

1900s asylum information (related to emil)

luca+andrew prompt

"god must hate you, andrew kreiss" animatic by Robotto and touching on andrew's religious trauma and potential inferiority complex

first post touching on the concept of andrew hitting a breaking point (directly related to above post), ale dynamic is developed more and an andrew sickfic concept leading to this fic by @dulcifiedjaws

another addition to the andrew sickfic concept (notes are irrelevant here)

post where qpr polycule becomes the offical concept to the chain

long post about the dynamic, including alva's ressurection and norton as an onlooker to the qpr polycule along with andrew's concept of atonement

songs for both the andrew/luca dynamic and emil as a person, along with a brief discussion of emil's character and small scenario between andrew and emil

ale bonding activities and talk of their childhoods

hospital based emil prompts

lock and key based luca prompts

emil and andrew based long post, discusses andrew's childhood and a potential story change in which emil and andrew see each other as children instead of emil and ada

fanfiction based off above discussion (ough i wrote this one. my contribution to the trinity is done)

analysis of the saint bernard andrew kreiss animatic by sunny/ren, influences descriptions of andrew's childhood

andrew eats shit

picrew chain involving andrew's perspective of the other two and explanations by @olliesneweyes (also i publicly humiliate myself because luca doesnt have black hair or wear white)

images related to luca's experiences

images related to andrew's experiences (cw: religious trauma and negative self image)

images related to emil's experiences (cw: dehumanization and implied abuse)

analysis of a portion of void - melanie martinez regarding the andrew luca emil dynamic + relationships with victor and norton as people looking in through windows

discussion relevant to andrew's breaking point as well as a kreiburg interaction post ghost saga (plus orpheus i suppose)

short emil talk

more emil and andrew along with a brief childhood discussion

emil and luca dynamic tagged with #luca glances at him and realizes the feeling of tiredness exists #as well as yawning being contagious by @olliesneweyes

ale + norton post snapping incident plus the fanfiction for this discussion by @olliesneweyes

andrew kreiss room layout :] (related directly to above fanfiction)

concept for luca and emil finding out about andrew's repentance/worship also andrew gets compared to mothman which is. a good metaphor

rambling about andrew's anxiety and childhood trauma some more (plus norton, frederick gets introduced vaguely......)

emil shows up to the manor!!!

in correlation to above, emil's experiences getting to know the other two (plus a small andrew tangent)

norton gets discussed

concepts for Things (ale centered)

short emil fanfiction ough (courtesy of @olliesneweyes)

emil being lamb coded along with andrew and luca concepts

some more emil stuff (uwah he deserves the world)

continuation of this discussion on why norton had naught but a half loaf of bread and milk

involved characters (plus orpheus twink death)

rambling about andrew where he’s not miserable for once (very short but related discussion)

andrew’s job ramble (finally)

discussion on luca's time in prison (and a short but relevant discussion on the silent system)

another post discussing luca's canon lore

seperate picrew chain + talk of their beverage choice (norton is a part of this)

medieval au

ghost town au long post (more details tagged under #ghosttownau)

emil's introduction to above au

frederick centered discussion :]

love language post :3

someone help andrew he's so fucked (more in this vein part one and part two <- seperate discussions about the same youtube channel)

luca character talk through an analysis of a new jhariah song

revised andrew character analysis through official character tweets (extension 1 and extension 2

added conversation to above

i yell about emil + the others

andrew and the story of ingel

yelling about andrew some more

frederick learning english as a 3rd language and still being bad at it /loving

norton being petty n spiteful

what the fuck is the butler’s problem 💔

andrew and his learned habits + little bit of a concept with andrew/frederick

luca’s brain damage and how it affected his mental state

physical results of luca’s brain damage

andrew and emil dog parallels

continuation of this discussion about victors weird arm scars (TUMBLR DOESNT LIKE ITS FOR SOME REASON IM GONNA DIE)

emil and andrew dog parallels (im unwell)

coherent thoughts about andrew (song analysis 84628 /vvvpos)

gaslighting luca for information (related to this post)

victor stuff :3

mild ramble about andrew and his 5 yr old pencil grip

#how would i tag this #uhh #masterpost concept

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lilimonarch · 2 months

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#22 Sickfic Prompts and Thoughts

College group study, especially those burnt out STEM majors. A group of people studying for finals together, but someone isn't doing too great. They play it off and try to push through, since it is a group study, they are here to keep each other accountable and actually study! Alas, it's a little too much for a student way too tired but at least their friends are here.

#sickfic #sickfic prompt #sicknario #whump #sickfic prompts #college au

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monthofsick · 5 months

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Nov(emeto)ber Rescheduled Prompt List (February 2024)

Daily prompts typed out below for February, 2024! You can also find them on the Prompt Page. If anyone has trouble with visibility please let me know! You can find the Rules Page here.

I highly encourage everyone to check out the linked posts for additional inspiration! However, please also note that you are more than welcome to interpret the prompt separate from the inspiration post.

Sharing a receptacle (submission by @nerdlycharming)

Can’t stop puking

Bad news = bad stomach @angstyaches

Messy @jurassicsickfics

Undesirable caretaker (submission by @danafeelingsick): the sickie dislikes or has a grudge against their caretaker, but needs their help anyway.

Post-adrenaline puking @someonesgrossblog

Too feverish to think

Choose: Loud or silent

Persistent sickness

Ill with an audience @darthhopereblogs

Totally drained/exhausted

Group sickfic

Professionalism failure @fevers-and-emeto-oh-my and @sickficideas

Can’t keep anything down

Free day!

Waking up puking

Sick for the first time

Unfamiliar surroundings

Sick in more ways than one

Late caretaker @feelingpoorly

Sleepy sickie @fluffyllamas-23

Out of character / Visibly Ill @feelingpoorly

Subtle support @emphasis-on-the-comfort

Panic @danafeelingsick

Cranky sickie @angstyaches

Nonverbal illness indicators @emphasis-on-the-comfort and @jurassicsickfics

Head pain/injury/ache @syncope-syndrome

Chaotic body temperature

Fake “Faking it:" Sickie is playing up their illness at first, or faking it all together, until suddenly they're not. Optional "I told you I didn't feel good" dialogue.

Alternative Prompts

If any of the assigned daily prompts don’t work for you, feel free to substitute with the following:

Motion sick

Sick during transit

Unconventional receptacle

Torture (literal or figurative)

Shaky/shivery

Note: If I’ve tagged you here, it’s because I think you’re brilliant and used your content as inspiration, so I wanted to give you credit. If you’d rather I don’t include your @, a link to your post, or the associated prompt altogether, please do let me know and I will remove it no questions asked! And if I missed anyone, please let me know as well so I can fix that.

#prompt list #tw vomit #tw illness #tw emeto #novemetober: rescheduled #information #important!!!#novemetober #nov(emeto)ber #emeto prompts #sickfic prompts #reblogs are super appreciated as always for visibility!

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straightupsickfics · 8 months

Note

Are you still accepting fall sickfic prompts? Because I just happened to come across the prompt list and was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a fic for Stede and Ed with prompts 14. Chilly evenings, 16. Holding hands, and 26. Flushed cheeks? :)

ahhh these are so cute for them! a tiny, modern au fall ficlet <3

****

"Are you scared?"

Ed's voice so close to his ear makes Stede jump higher than he'd care to admit, but he shakes his head, turning to meet Ed's eye.

"No, are you? This isn't a haunted thing, is it?" Stede asks, looking around at the farm they're currently making their way across. They're going on a zombie paintball hayride, which is... not exactly the way Stede would normally spend a Friday night, but Ed had made the plans with his friends, Fang and Ivan, and he'd been so excited when he surprised Stede with a ticket, it wasn't like he could say no.

No one he'd dated in the past had had much interest in having Stede meet their friends, and Stede knows how much Fang and Ivan mean to Ed, so of course, of course he wouldn't say no. Not when things were going so well with Ed so far.

Even if it meant being outside in the chilly, early October evening, the sun setting rapidly around them. Even if the weather is making his nose run something fierce. Stede thinks about the little travel packet of tissues in his pocket, already dwindling down to nothing, and tries to sniffle discreetly.

"Nah, not haunted," Ed confirms beside him. He reaches down and takes Stede's hand in his, and it's amazing, really, how much warmer it is compared to Stede's own. He relishes it—the warmth and the closeness both—and gives Ed's hand a little squeeze.

That's the other thing about Ed, he's so easily affectionate, always putting a hand on Stede's shoulder, or holding his hand, or wrapping an arm around his waist while they walk, Stede thinks he might never get used to it.

"Still," Ed continues, "kinda creepy, out here at night. Never know when someone might pop out and say BOO!"

Stede jumps again, despite himself, then swats at Ed.

"Stop that, you nut!"

Ed grins at him. "Sorry, mate," he says, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the corner of Stede's mouth. "Y'look cute when you're all..." He trails off, scrunching up his face in what Stede assumes is supposed to be an approximation of his own face, and he can't help but laugh.

"I don't do that!"

"Sure do," Ed tells him, tugging Stede's hand until he's pulled flush beside him, slowing their pace until they're a good few feet behind the others in their group. Ed kisses him again, the cold tip of his own nose pressing against Stede's, and as sweet as it is, Stede has to pull away to sniffle against the sudden urge to sneeze.

"Oh, h-hang on..." Stede warns, turning away to cover his mouth and nose. The only problem is that in his haste, Stede brings their still joined hands to his face and just barely manages to stifle two quick sneezes against his wrist, no doubt getting Ed's in the process.

"hh'mpptshh! Hh'ngtsh! God, sorry, I didn't m'bean..." Stede sniffles a few times and lets go of Ed's hand, digging in his pocket for a tissue, face flushing pink.

"Bless you!" Ed says, like nothing happened. He looks at the tissues and then back at Stede. "All good? You're not getting sick are you?"

He nudges Stede's arm with his elbow when Stede takes a beat to long to answer. "Aww, Stede! Y'should've told me! I'd have never dragged you out to fuck around in a field of fake zombies if you're sick."

"I wanted to meet your friends," Stede explains, sniffling again. "And you were so excited," he adds.

"Always excited to see you," Ed tells him, taking Stede's hand in his again and bumping their hips together. "Would've been just as happy to see you if it meant spending the night on your couch."

"Really?" Stede asks. It's probably too late for that now, they're here anyway, the tickets claimed, their hands stamped, the zombies awaiting. And he's not really sick, not yet anyway, though tomorrow is another story, he knows. But still, it's nice to know.

"Really," Ed promises. He lifts their hands and kisses Stede's wrist. "If the zombies don't eat us tonight, I promise I'll make it up to you this weekend with soup. And tissues. And a million of those documentaries you love."

Stede's face is warmer than ever now, and it has nothing to do with the weather or his oncoming cold.

"It's a lot of documentaries," Stede warns. "Haven't even told you about the new series I found..."

"You don't scare me, Bonnet." Ed smiles like he really can't wait to find out more. "It's a date," he says.

#selene-and-the-cold #my fic #of//md

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teine-mallaichte · 17 days

Note

Welcome to DADW!! For a prompt, how about Fenders with Mystery Illness 👀

Ok this... this got away from me a little... an idea occurred, I started writing, and now it is almost 3 hours later and I have over 6000 words... anyway... @dadrunkwriting fic which I turned into a sickfic of sorts...

As Hawke and his companions drew nearer to the village, a tangible tension thickened the air around them, shrouding the once bustling streets in an unsettling silence. Where once the vibrant thoroughfares echoed with the laughter of children and the chatter of villagers going about their daily lives, now only an eerie emptiness prevailed. The sombre silence only broken only by the occasional muffled cough that drifted through the stagnant air.

When Hawke had heard rumours about this mystery illness he hadn't been sure what to expect, stories of an entire of village of people displaying a dizzying aray of symptoms, whispers of the village been cused, how could he not investigate such a story?

As they ventured further into the heart of the settlement, they were greeted by a scene of utter chaos outside the small herbalist building. Makeshift cots dotted around, many occupied by pale and trembling figures, some muttering to themselves others appearing to barely have the energy to move.

Hawke's heart sank at the sight before him. The once-thriving village now resembled a scene from a nightmare, with its inhabitants reduced to mere shadows of their former selves. He exchanged a grim glance with his companions, their expressions mirroring his own.

Anders approached one of the sick individuals, and carefully knelt beside the cot. The person's breathing was labored, their skin clammy and pale, and their eyes darted about in a frantic manner, as if haunted by unseen horrors.

Anders gently placed a hand on the sick person's forehead, his expression one of deep concern as he assessed their condition. Before he could offer any aid, the sound of footsteps drew everyone's attention toward the entrance of the herbalist's building.

As Anders examined the sick, Fenris stood nearby, his posture tense. Varric surveyed the scene with a grim expression, while Hawke moved closer to the line of cots, already trying to form a plan of action in his mind.

The elderly woman emerged, her face lined with worry and exhaustion, she approached the group her eyes lingering on Anders, a silent question in her eyes.

Anders rose to meet the herbalist's gaze, his expression grave yet determined. "We've come to offer whatever aid we can," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of compassion.

The herbalist nodded solemnly, her shoulders sagging with the burden of responsibility. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice tinged with weariness. "We've been overwhelmed by this... this affliction. We've tried every remedy, every poultice, but nothing seems to alleviate their suffering."

Hawke stepped forward, his jaw set with resolve. "Tell us everything you know about this illness," he urged, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

The herbalist sighed heavily, her gaze drifting to the sick and suffering around them. "It began with a few isolated cases," she explained, her voice tinged with sorrow. "But it spread like wildfire, consuming the entire village within days. The symptoms... the coughing, the confusion, the anxiety - they're unlike anything I've ever seen. And now..." She trailed off as she cast her gaze over her patients.

"Can you tell us anything about what's causing this?" Hawke asks as he gestures at the cots.

The herbalist shook her head, a mixture of frustration and despair evident in her expression. "We've searched for answers, but we're no closer to understanding the root of this affliction. Some whisper of a curse, others speak of foul magics at work..." She pauses, "The first cases were people who entered a cave north of here, just outside the village."

Hawke's brow furrowed at the mention of the cave. It seemed like a lead worth investigating, a potential source of the mysterious illness plaguing the village.

"We'll need to see this cave for ourselves," Hawke declared.

The companions nodded in agreement, as Anders turned to the herbalist with a reassuring smile. "We'll do everything in our power to help," he promised

The herbalist offered a weary smile in return, gratitude shining in her tired eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

---

As they neared the gaping maw of the cave, a suffocating atmosphere descended upon them, thick with the scent of decay and the weight of foreboding darkness that seemed to engulf their very thoughts.

"Well, this is cozy." Varric quipped as he looked around the dank surroundings.

"Stay alert, everyone," Hawke cautioned, "We don't know what we'll find in here, but we can't afford to let our guard down."

As they ventured deeper into the cave, the oppressive darkness seemed to constrict around them, enveloping them in a suffocating embrace. The jagged walls of the cavern loomed ominously overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced and flickered with every flicker of their torchlight. The air grew thick and stagnant, heavy with the musty scent of damp and decay.

The further into the cave they went, the colder the air seemed to grow, the darkness more palpable. The glow of Anders staff, and light of Hawkes torch, seemed to hardly penetrate the growing darkness.

As they walked Fenris found himself battling the urge to cough, his chest tightening with each breath. It started as a subtle tickle, but with each passing moment, the sensation intensified, becoming an insistent itch that refused to be ignored. The dampness of the cave air only seemed to exacerbate the irritation, clinging to his lungs and irritating his throat.

Anders cast a concerned glance in Fenris's direction, noting the subtle tremor in his hands and the pallor that had begun to settle over his features. Sensing something amiss, he moved closer to Fenris, his expression creased with worry.

"Are you alright?" Anders asked, his voice low with concern.

Fenris's gaze flickered briefly towards Anders before quickly averting, "I'm fine Anders," he muttered.

Anders's brow furrowed with concern, but dismissed it for now, it was likely just the lighting of the cave playing tricks on his mind.

Varric chuckles slightly, “I keep telling you not to bring elves into caves Hawke. Do you remember Daisy in the Deep Roads? I though she might actually spring into spontaneous dance when we finally got to the surface.”

Hawke frowns, “Are you trying to say that elves are… allergic to caves Varric?”

Varric gestures at Fenris, as if the elfs very existence is somehow proof of his point.

“Merrill was fine at Sundermount…” Hawke says slowly.

“Ah, but Sundermount is some magically elfy cave.” Varric counters.

Stopping for a few seconds Hawke turns to Anders, “Please tell me that Varric is talking nonsense.”

Anders glanced between Hawke and Varric, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well, I'm no expert on elven physiology, but I think Varric might be indulging in a bit of exaggeration."

Fenris shot Varric a pointed look, his expression a mixture of irritation and amusement. "I assure you, Varric, I am not allergic to caves," he retorted, his tone dry.

Varric made a dismissive sound, "you're no fun. If Riviani were here she'd have backed me up."

Despite the groups casual banter, Fenris found himself unable to shake the discomfort gnawing at him. His eyes stung with an unexplained burning sensation, and the urge to cough grew stronger with each passing moment. A subtle tension began to throb at his temples, hinting at the onset of a headache. He glanced briefly at Anders, for a brief moment considering reaching out to the healer, but quickly pushed down that thought. He chided himself for even considering such a notion; a mere cough and headache were hardly worth troubling Anders over.

Hawke led the way, his senses alert for any sign of danger lurking in the shadows. Varric kept up a steady stream of commentary, his jokes and quips a welcome distraction from the suffocating tension that hung in the air.

As they ventured deeper into the labyrinthine passages of the cave, the air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. Fenris's chest tightened further, each breath a struggle against the invisible weight pressing down on his lungs.

Anders reached out a hand, resting it gently on Fenris's shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Fenris hesitated, his gaze flickering between Anders and the darkness looming ahead. "I'll manage," he replied gruffly, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings.

Anders regarded Fenris with a mixture of concern and skepticism, but ultimately nodded, they had gotten closer recently, but what they had was still tenious, vulnerable, and Anders felt it possibly wasn't the time to push.

As they turned a corner, a faint glow caught their attention, beckoning them further into the depths of the cavern. The soft, eerie light emanated from clusters of dark blue fungi dotting the walls and floor, casting a surreal blue glow that danced and flickered with otherworldly beauty.

As they approached the source of the glow, the air seemed to grow heavier, thick with the pungent scent of the sorrowcap fungus. Hawke's brow furrowed in concern as he surveyed the cavern, taking note of the eerie bioluminescence that bathed everything in an otherworldly hue.

Fenris shifted uncomfortably at the rear of the group, a gnawing sensation clawing at his throat with increasing intensity. His eyes stung with an irritant he couldn't quite shake, and a dull ache throbbed relentlessly at the back of his head. His steps faltered, a sudden wave of dizziness engulfing him, and he reached out instinctively to steady himself against the cold stone of the cave wall. As the dizzy spell subsided, his heart raced with a mixture of panic and relief. He stole a quick glance around, thankful that his momentary weakness had gone unnoticed amidst his companions preoccupation with the strange, glowing mushrooms ahead.

Varric eyed the mushrooms warily. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Those things look like trouble."

As they approached the clusters of mushrooms, Anders's keen eyes widened with recognition. "Sorrowcap Fungus," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've only read about it in books before. It's incredibly rare."

Hawke's expression darkened as he listened to Anders's words. "Sorrowcap," he repeated, the name resonating with a sense of foreboding. "Could these be responsible for the illness in the village?"

Anders nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on the eerie glow of the fungi. "It's possible," he replied, his voice tinged with concern. "Sorrowcap spores are known to contain potent toxins and hallucinogens. Inhaling them could certainly explain the symptoms we've seen."

Varric scoffed, "Great. So not only are we dealing with a mysterious illness, but now we've got hallucinogenic fungi to contend with too?"

Fenris shifted uncomfortably, his hand still pressed against the cool stone wall for support. The burning sensation in his eyes had intensified, and a sharp pang of pain shot through his temples, as he struggled to suppress the need to cough.

Anders shifted his focus to Fenris, who seemed to be holding himself at a distance from the rest of the group. His posture was rigid, and his expression betrayed a discomfort that Anders couldn't ignore. "Fenris, you look unwell," he remarked, his voice gentle yet tinged with worry.

Fenris tensed at the attention, "I'm f-," but his words were cut short as a violent cough overtook him, each convulsion sending waves of pain rippling through his body. Struggling to regain his composure, he forced himself to continue, "It's just the dampness of the cave air."

Varric's brow furrowed with concern as he observed Fenris's plight. "That's a convincing argument for 'fine'," he remarked dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Fenris fixed Varric with a glare, his eyes flashing with a mixture of irritation and defiance. "I'm fine," he reiterated, his tone sharper than intended.

Anders's concern for Fenris deepened as he observed the elf's obvious discomfort. Despite Fenris's insistence that he was fine, Anders couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.

Hawke's voice broke through Anders's thoughts, drawing his attention back to the present. "Anders, how do we neutralise the spores?"

Anders pondered for a moment, quickly glancing back at Fenris, before replying, "We need to destroy these mushrooms, but we need to do it carefully to avoid releasing more spores into the air." He looks around the chamber, "my fire magic should be able to do it, then we should check to make sure there aren't any more."

Hawke nodded in agreement with Anders's plan. "Alright, let's get to it then. Anders, you take care of these mushrooms. Varric and I will go further into the cave to make sure there aren't any more." He pauses, "Fenris... you stay with Anders."

Fenris hardly heard Hawkes words, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that weighed heavily upon him. He didn't notice Hawke and Varric leave, his head throbbed with a relentless ache, and his vision swam with disorienting waves of color. He leant against the rough stone of the cave wall to steady himself.

Anders glanced over at Fenris, concern etched into his features. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Fenris's response was barely a whisper, his words choked with emotion. "I... I don't know," he admitted, pushing down the urge to physically reach out to Anders.

Anders's expression softened with understanding as he approached Fenris, his hand hovering hesitantly in the air before finally coming to rest on the elf's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'm going to burn these mushrooms and then we can get out of here."

Anders's touch sent a shiver of warmth through Fenris, a stark contrast to the icy chill that seemed to permeate his very bones. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, nodding in silent agreement as Anders moved to ignite the sorrowcap mushrooms with controlled bursts of flame.

As the flames consumed the fungi, Fenris's world seemed to blur and warp around him. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows that seemed to twist and contort into sinister shapes. His breath caught in his throat as he strained to make sense of the haunting whispers that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the cave. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating like a drum in the suffocating silence of the cavern.

As the fungi burnt a pungent odor filled the air, mingling with the dampness of the cave to create a suffocating miasma, burning the back of Anders throat slightly as he resisted the urge to cough.

Fenris's vision swam with an intensity that bordered on disorienting. The acrid scent of smoke mingled with the musty aroma of the cave, assaulting his senses with overwhelming intensity. A violent cough seized him, wracking his body with spasms of pain that threatened to engulf him. He doubled over, clutching at his chest in an attempt to quell the rising tide of agony.

Ignoring the lingering smoke and the acrid taste of ash that coated the back of his throat, Anders rushed to Fenris's side, his hands gentle yet firm as he guided the elf to sit against the cavern wall.

"Fenris, breathe," Anders urged, focusing on keeping his voice calmer than he felt, "Focus on your breathing. In... and out."

Fenris obeyed, albeit shakily, his breaths ragged and uneven as he struggled to regain control over his trembling body. Anders's concern for Fenris only grew as he watched the elf struggle to regain his breath. It was more than obvious that Fernis was not "fine". But before he managed to voice his concern Fenris seemed to regain his composure, his breathing returning to normal as he slowly straightened his posture.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft yet laced with worry.

Fenris managed a weak nod, his gaze flickering briefly towards Anders before quickly averting. "I... I think so." he assured, his voice hoarse from the coughing fit. "Let's find the rest of these mushrooms so we can get out of here."

Anders regarded Fenris with a lingering gaze, his concern evident in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to press the issue further, but ultimately decided to focus on the task at hand for now.

"Alright," Anders replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and determination. "Let's make sure make it quick though."

As they moved deeper into the cavern, Anders kept a watchful eye on Fenris, ready to offer assistance at a moment's notice. He watched as Fenris's steps faltered occasionally, how he kept pausing and staring at the darkness, his eyes betraying a hint of unease that Anders couldn't ignore.

the whispers swirled around Fenris, their insidious cadence penetrating the very depths of his consciousness, he could no longer deny the unsettling truth that something sinister lurked in the shadows. The tendrils of fear wrapped around his heart, tightening with each passing moment, fuelling his irrational desire to shield Anders from whatever malevolent presence awaited them.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Fenris scanned the cavern with a sense of urgency, his senses sharp and attuned to the slightest hint of danger. "We are not alone," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the eerie symphony of whispers that echoed through the chamber.

Anders stopped and looked around the chamber, focusing his senses trying to find anything amiss. But there was nothing… Frowning slightly he moved his staff, increasing the glow slightly to get a better look at Fernis. The elf looked unsteady on his feet as his eyes darted around the cavern.

As Anders scanned the chamber, his senses sharp and alert, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Despite his best efforts, there was no sign of danger lurking in the shadows, no indication of any immediate threat. Frowning slightly, he adjusted the glow of his staff, illuminating the cavern with a soft, comforting light.

His attention was drawn to Fenris, who stood a few paces away, his form illuminated by the gentle glow of Anders's staff. The elf appeared unsteady on his feet, swaying ever so slightly as if struggling to maintain his balance. His eyes darted around the cavern, flickering with a mixture of confusion and unease.

Concern etched into every line of his face, Anders stepped closer to Fenris, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out a hand, intending to offer reassurance to the elf, but Fenris flinched at the sudden contact, as if startled out of a trance.

"Fenris," Anders called softly, his voice a gentle murmur amidst the oppressive silence of the cave. "Are you alright?"

Dancing lights seemed to ove around the cavern, their ethereal glow cast a hypnotic spell upon him, drawing him in with an almost magnetic pull. Fernis couldn't shake the feeling that they held the key to unlocking the mystery of the cave, to deciphering the whispers that echoed through the darkness with haunting persistence. What troubled him most, however, was Anders's apparent obliviousness to the sinister phenomena that surrounded them.

Fenris glanced at Anders, his brow furrowed with concern as he struggled to comprehend why the healer remained unaffected by the oppressive atmosphere that weighed heavily upon them. A single thought kept repeating in his mind, Anders was in danger, he had to protect the healer from the danger that he seemed unable to see or hear.

"Anders," Fenris began, his voice low and urgent, "You... You can't see or hear them, why?."

Anders glanced at Fenris, his brow furrowing in confusion at the elf's cryptic question. "See or hear what?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite Fenris's insistence, Anders could detect no sign of there being anything but them in the cave.

Fenris's sense of urgency only intensified as he struggled to convey the gravity of the situation to Anders. "The whispers," he insisted, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and frustration. "The voices that echo through the darkness... Can't you hear them?"

"Fenris, I don't hear any voices," he admitted, his voice laced with worry.

Fenris blinked, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of the shifting shapes and flickering lights that seemed to dance just beyond his reach. How could Anders be oblivious to the sinister whispers that seemed to permeate every corner of the cavern? he looked at the mage, his features seemed to twist and contort in his gaze, instinctively he stepped back from the disconcerting image, "you are not Anders ," he accused, his voice shaking more than he would have liked.

Anders's expression faltered, confusion clouding his features as he regarded Fenris with a mixture of concern and apprehension. "Fenris, it's me," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. "You're just... you're not yourself right now."

But Fenris remained unconvinced, his instincts screaming at him to keep his distance from the figure before him. "You're not Anders," he repeated, his voice growing more insistent with each repetition. "You're... something else."

Realization dawned on Anders as he connected the dots, the symptoms Fenris displayed aligning all too well with sorrowcap poisoning. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he considered the implications of the situation.

"Fenris," Anders began, his voice steady yet tinged with concern, "I think you've been affected by the sorrowcap spores. You're experiencing hallucinations, paranoia... it's all part of the poisoning."

Fenris's gaze flickered with a mixture of disbelief and desperation as he struggled to comprehend Anders's words. "No," he protested, his voice laced with defiance. "You're lying."

Anders's heart sank at Fenris's refusal to accept the truth, he knew that Fenris's mind was clouded by the effects of the Sorrowcap Fungus, but the accusation still stung with a sharpness that Anders couldn't ignore.

"Fenris, it's me," Anders insisted, his voice laced with desperation. "I'm right here, I promise." He reached out a hand, intending to offer reassurance, but Fenris recoiled at the gesture, his expression a mixture of fear and mistrust.

But Fenris recoiled, his gaze fixed upon Anders with a mixture of fear and mistrust. "No," he protested, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "You're not him. Give him back."

"Fenris, I know this is confusing, but you have to trust me," Anders urged, his voice soft yet firm.

As Fake Anders moved closer to him, concern etched into every line of his face, Fenris recoiled instinctively, his muscles tensing with suspicion. The healer's intentions, once genuine and kind, now seemed shrouded in shadow, his every gesture laden with hidden meaning. Fenris stumbled, his movements clumsy and erratic as he tried to put distance between himself and Imposter Anders. As he lost his footing, Fenris stumbled, his balance forsaking him as he teetered on the brink of collapse. With a gasp of alarm, he reached out for support, but found only empty air as his fingers grasped at nothingness.

Anders rushed to Fenris's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he knelt beside the fallen elf. "Fenris, can you hear me?" he called, his voice tinged with urgency as he reached out to check for any signs of injury.

Fenris groaned weakly, his head spinning with dizziness as he struggled to focus on Fake Anders's concerned face. "Please give Anders back," he mumbled.

Anders's heart ached at Fenris's plea, the raw desperation in his voice cutting through him like a knife. He reached out, gently cupping Fenris's cheek in his hand, his touch tender yet reassuring. "Fenris, it's me. I'm right here," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of compassion and determination. "I won't leave you, I promise. But, we need to get you out of here," Anders urged.

"Anders doesn't like caves," Fenris muttered, seemingly to no one.

Anders's heart sank at Fenris's words, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. Fenris's confusion and distress were palpable, his mind ensnared by the hallucinations wrought by the toxic spores of the Sorrowcap Fungus. He sighed slightly, guilt knwing at him for what he was about to do, as much as he hated the idea of lying, of playing into the delusion he could see no other way to gain Fenris's trust through the hazy of hallucinations caused by the fungus.

"You're right, Anders doesn't like caves." Anders said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow as he gently squeezed the elf's hand. "He's probably waiting for you outside."

As Fake Anders reached out to help him to his feet, Fenris hesitated, his muscles tense with apprehension. Everything felt confused, as if he were caught in the tangled web of a nightmare from which he couldn't wake. The only thought hat seemed to be clear was that Anders was in danger, a thought echoed by the whispers, Anders was in danger and this wasn't Anders.

He glanced at Fake Anders, his expression guarded yet tinged with a flicker of uncertainty.

Fake Anders's expression softened, his gaze filled with a silent plea for understanding. "Please, Fenris," he urged.

Fenris's resolve wavered as he met Fake Anders's gaze, the genuine concern shining in the imposter's eyes , eyes that looked so similar to Anders.

He reached out, accepting Fake Anders's hand in a silent gesture of surrender, his grip firm yet trembling with uncertainty.

Fake Anders offered Fenris a reassuring smile, his touch gentle as he helped the elf to his feet. "Come on," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get you out of here."

Their journey back through the cavern was painstakingly slow, much to Anders's frustration. In a more ideal scenario, he might have considered carrying someone who had succumbed to a toxin like the sorrowcap, but given Fenris's current state of erratic behavior and paranoid delusions, such a gesture would likely have been met with resistance, if not outright hostility.

As they neared the chamber where the remnants of the first Sorrowcap Fungus still smoldered, Fenris stumbled forward, his steps faltering as he struggled to maintain his balance. Anders moved to support him, his arm looping around the elf's waist to steady him.

Fenris could feel his body swaying with the effort of remaining upright. And an instinctual impulse urged him to pull away from the person next to him, yet the reason behind the impulse remained elusive, lost in the fog of his mind. He struggled to recall why they were in this place or where exactly "here" was. All he knew was that they were supposed to be leaving, and that he had to keep walking. And he had to find Anders, Anders was in danger, that was one thing he knew for certain.

He blinked, his vision swimming as he tried to focus on Fake Anders' face. The healer's words were a distant echo, lost in the haze of confusion that clouded his mind. He could feel an arm around him, offering support, he clung to the robes of the figure, who looked like Anders, desperate to anchor his thoughts and reassure himself that Anders was there.

Anders felt a pang of worry shoot through him as Fenris's grip tightened on his robes. He could sense the confusion and disorientation emanating from the usually stoic elf. They may have grown fat closer recently, something fragile and tentative that was yet to be named, but touch was still something that was complicated between them. For Fenris to now be practically clinging to him, even if only his robes, was a stark contrast to his usual behaviour.

With a gentle touch, Anders shifted his arm to further steady Fenris, his concern evident in his eyes. "I'm here," Anders whispered softly, his voice cutting through the fog of Fenris's confusion.

"Anders..." Fenris's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, as he struggled to focus on Fake Anders, no, real Anders, face. "We need to leave. You are in danger."

Anders's brow furrowed with concern at Fenris's words. He wasn't sure why Fenris believed he was in danger, but the fact that the elf was addressing him as Anders rather than accusing him of being an imposter was a slight improvement from the previous delusion. It was a small victory amidst the chaos that threatened to consume them.

"Fenris, I promise you, I'm safe," Anders said softly, his voice infused with reassurance. "We are both safe, we just need to get out of this cave."

Fenris's brows furrowed in confusion, his grip on Anders's robes tightening slightly. "But... the whispers... the shadows," he mumbled.

"I know, Fenris," Anders murmured, his voice a soothing presence amidst the turmoil of Fenris's thoughts. "But they are not real, I promise."

Fenris blinked, trying to focus on Anders's face, his features swimming in and out of clarity amidst the haze of his mind. "I trust you," Fenris murmured, leaning slightly more into Anders as he fought to stay upright.

Anders felt a surge of relief as Fenris expressed trust, even in the midst of his confusion. It was a small victory, but a significant one considering the circumstances.

He glanced down the tunnel that Hawke and Varric had gone down earlier, the priority was getting Fenris out of the cave before he deteriorated further. Getting away from the spores was by no means a cure, but it would slow the progression significantly and might lessen the cognitive effects slightly. But that didn't mean he could simply leave his friends down here either.

Nearing the tunnel he shouted out to Hawke and Varric, his voice echoed through the cavern, bouncing off the walls and reverberating into the darkness ahead. There was a tense moment of silence, broken only by the faint sound of dripping water.

After what felt like an eternity Hawke's voice rang out in response, the relief evident in his tone as he called back to them. "Anders! Fenris! Are you alright?"

Anders's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Hawke's voice, a wave of relief washing over him as he called back,

"We're alright, but Fenris is... affected by the spores. We need to get out of here."

Hawke's response was immediate, his voice laced with urgency as he called back, "Understood, head to the exit we will catch up."

As anders stole another worried glance at Fenris his heart sunk. The elf's usual demeanor was crumbling before his eyes, replaced by a frailty that sent a pang of fear through Anders's chest. "Fenris," he said softly as he shifted his grip slightly in an attempt to stabilise him more, "can you hear me?"

Fenris's response was barely audible, his voice strained and distant. "Yes Anders," he murmured, his words slurred and disjointed.

Anders's heart sank at Fenris's state, the elf's condition worsening with each passing moment. He knew they needed to get out of the cave and back to the village where, now armed with the knowledge of the illnesses cause, he and the herbalist could cure the affected. Anders hesitated, weighing the options before him. Carrying Fenris would undoubtedly be the fastest way to get him out of the cave and away from the toxic spores, but the massive sword would likely pose a challenge, if not an actual safety risk. Glancing back down the passage where Hawke and Varric should soon arrive he makes a decision. Carefully he moves to remove the sword, Hawke is sure to collect it on the way past.

With the weight of the sword now lifted from Fenris's side, Anders swiftly adjusted his hold, ensuring the elf's stability. He repositioned his grip on Fenris, carefully securing him with one arm wrapped around his waist, while the other hand slid beneath Fenris's knees, lifting him off the ground.

Anders felt Fenris's tension and hesitated, his grip tightening slightly in reassurance. "It's okay, Fenris," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing presence amidst the chaos that surrounded them. "I've got you."

Fenris's breath caught in his throat as he leaned into Anders's touch, the warmth of the healer's embrace offering a measure of comfort amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him. He closed his eyes briefly, willing away the dizzying sensation that washed over him, as he subconsciously tried to pull himself closer into Anders's embrace.

Anders couldn't help but chuckle slightly, "Who knew all it would take to make you more affectionate was a bit of poison?" he teased.

As Fenris leaned into Anders's embrace, he mumbled something in response, but Anders couldn't quite make out the words.

Anders didn't press Fenris for a response, he wasn't sure that Fenris was even lucid enough to understand what was happening. With careful steps, Anders began to carry Fenris out of the cave, his movements steady despite the weight of the sick elf in his arms.

As they emerged from the darkness of the cave into the blinding light of day, Anders felt a surge of relief wash over him. The fresh air was a welcome reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the cave, cleansing his lungs of the acrid scent of smoke and decay.

The echoes of Hawke's voice reached his ears from behind. Anders's tense shoulders relaxed slightly at the sound, a wave of relief washing over him. He turned to see Varric and Hawke rushing towards him, Fenris's sword in Hawkes grasp.

As Hawke and Varric reached them, their concern evident in their expressions, Anders gave them a reassuring nod, indicating that Fenris was safe, albeit affected by the spores.

Hawke's brow furrowed with concern as he took in Fenris's condition, his gaze flickering between the elf and Anders. "Is he going to be alright?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Anders nodded, "There is a potion that counters the effects of the spores, fortunately the ingredients are fairly common." his voice calm yet tinged with urgency. "We need to head back to the village, now we know it's sorrowcap that's causing this. We can help everyone who's been effected."

Upon reaching the village the streets were just as quiet and abadoned as they had been that morning, Anders wasted no time as he made his way to the the herbalist's home, where he was greeted by the comforting scent of dried herbs and potions. The woman turned to look at Anders as he entered, her eyes instantly fixing on the unconscious elf in his arms.

"We found the source of the sickness," Anders began, his voice cutting through the solemn atmosphere of the herbalist's home. "It's a fungus called sorrowcap, growing deep in the caves near the village."

The herbalist's eyes widened with concern as she listened intently, her hands pausing in their movements. "Sorrowcap?" she repeated, her voice laced with worry. "That is incredibly rare," she walked over to a bookshelf at the back of the room and started to leaf through its pages.

Anders nodded, his expression serious. "Do you have the ingredients to make the antidote?" he asked, his voice edged with urgency.

The herbalist found the page in the book she had been looking for and nodded, her gaze shifting to the shelves lining the walls of her home. "Yes," she glanced around the room, "we will need a large batch." She gestured to one of the empty cots, inviting Anders to lay Fenris down. "I can help with the potion," Anders says as he moves to the cot.

The herbalist wasted no time in gathering the necessary ingredients from her shelves. Bottles of dried herbs and vials of liquid were swiftly collected and laid out on a nearby table, the herbalist's hands moving quickly and confidently.

As the potion brewed, tension hung thick in the air, mingling with the pungent aroma of herbs and alchemical ingredients. Anders kept a vigilant eye on Fenris, his worry for the elf evident in the furrow of his brow. Despite the urgency of the situation, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at his conscience.

Hawke paced restlessly nearby, his concern mirrored in his every movement. Varric leaned against a nearby table, his gaze flitting between Anders and the brewing potion, his mind undoubtedly racing with thoughts of their next move.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the herbalist stepped back from the cauldron, a look of satisfaction crossing her features. "It's ready," she announced.

With a sense of relief washing over him, Anders stepped forward, his attention fully on the potion simmering in the cauldron. He reached for a ladle, carefully scooping out a sample to inspect its consistency and color.

Hawke approached, his eyes fixed on the potion with a mix of hope and apprehension. "Will it work?" he asked, his voice betraying the weight of their situation.

Anders nodded, relief evident in his expression. "It should," he replied, his voice steady despite the lingering uncertainty.

The herbalist nodded, "It may take a few days for full recovery, but the potion should work on even the most seriously effected."

As Anders carefully poured the potion into vials, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment mixed with trepidation. The immediate crisis was averted, but the aftermath would require careful attention and monitoring.

Once the vials were filled, Anders turned to Hawke and Varric, holding out the potions for them to take. "We need to distribute these to the affected villagers as soon as possible," he said, his voice resolute. "Make sure they take it immediately."

Hawke nodded, his expression grim yet determined. "We'll handle it," he replied, taking the vials from Anders and motioning for Varric to follow.

Anders watched them go, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he turned his attention back to Fenris. The elf still lay unconscious on the cot, his breathing steady but shallow. Anders approached, checking Fenris's pulse and monitoring his condition closely.

As Anders tended to Fenris, the herbalist approached him, her expression thoughtful. "You seem troubled, healer," she remarked softly. "Your friend will recover, along with the villagers."

Anders offered a small, appreciative nod to the herbalist, though his troubled expression remained. "I know he will," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "It's just... been a difficult day."

The herbalist regarded Anders with a knowing look, her gaze filled with empathy. "Difficult indeed," she murmured, her voice soft yet comforting. "You and your friends saved many lives today, most people would not have cared enough to enter those caves."

Anders took in the herbalist's words, a mixture of gratitude and guilt swirling within him. "We couldn't stand by and do nothing," he said, his voice reflective. "Not when people were suffering."

The herbalist offered Anders a reassuring smile, her eyes reflecting understanding. "You have a good heart, healer. That much is clear," she said warmly. "But remember to take care of yourself as well. It's easy to lose sight of your own well-being when you're focused on helping others."

Anders nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. "Thank you," he said softly, appreciating her wisdom. "I'll keep that in mind."

With a gentle pat on Anders's shoulder, the herbalist turned to attend to her duties, leaving Anders to ponder her words.

Fun fact; as a person with schizoaffective disorder I may enjoy making characters experience some aspect of psychosis way too much...

#DADWC #fanfiction #dragon age #fenris #anders #da drunk writing circle #dragon age fanfiction

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aeryssickfics · 4 months

Text

Prompts to Come

Putting these out there for the curious! But also because if anyone has prompts/suggestions/etc I'm willing to hear them! I have. A Good Chance of coming up with ideas for prompts as I go or even realizing I can combine things together but y'know this is where I am

I have completed the Genshin Impact main story. So that's a thing. Also willing to take Honkai Impact 3rd and Star Rail Prompts. Other fandoms I may be willing to entertain are ff7, ffx, yoi, rwby, and atla. I make no promises for anything in the 'may be willing to entertain' section tho)

~~~

Choose: Loud or Silent is ???

Totally Drained/Exhausted: Kiamei! From Honkai Impact 3rd. Kiana exhausts herself preparing for a (lengthy) visit from Mei on the moon, in addition to her own very important tasks as Finality. She starts feeling bad before mei arrives, but hides it until she Cannot anymore. pretty much instantly melts into a puddle of exhausted upon Mei's notice tho bc she Can't anymore.

Group Sickfic: i'm not confidently sold on anything but I'm currently leaning towards either the HSR nameless via food poisoning or some variation of the Sumeru Cluster with ??? ideas not solid. Both may eventually be written. I'm leaning into the nameless group fic at the moment. The sumeru cluster... Will Happen. At some point.

Professionalism Failure: STRONGLY considering Alhaitham getting sick during a meeting bc he thought he could keep himself under control. ... not sure if reluctant Cyno dealing with him or Kaveh. Stay tuned!

free day: Kiana tried say something, she really did. But Himeko didn't really believe her since she had a habit of trying to get out of class. Fast forward to that evening when Himeko finds her in the bathroom dazed with a fever, etc.

sick for the first time: Stelle [HSR] has no memories of Before and so as an adult trailblazer gets to be sick "for the first time". It's miserable, but March and Dan Heng take good care of her.

Unfamiliar Surroundings: Su becomes violently ill unexpectedly while sharing a bed (mostly platonically) with Kevin. Set in a nebulous au where Kiana was able to restore his body via manipulation of the imaginary space. ... and didn't kill Kevin for Reasons:tm:. Anyway! Su isn't familiar with the space and without being able to use his mantis powers is also blind. (Honkai Impact 3rd)

Sick in More Ways than One: trailblazer! probably stelle! leaning into the stelleron doing weird shit! Thinkin she picks up something from the crew just in general but it's not Bad:tm: and then she also goes to help herta with SU stuff and things go... south due to a weird interaction in the SU!

late caretaker: Abyss Prince Aether extremely unwell and all he can think about is the way his sister used to hold him, would have taken care of him if things were different. Fate brings them back together, if only for a little while.

sleepy sickie: Shortly after they're reunited in the Chasm, Lumine realizes something is wrong with Xiao-more than his exhaustion, though it certainly plays a factor in everything. He's tired, all the wants to do is sleep. But he's injured and fevered and it gets worse, before it gets better.

subtle support ??

panic: sick kaeya set during Diluc's travels away from Mondstadt. ft diluc's vision almost going out.

cranky sickie ??

nonverbal illness indicators: I'm Attempting to formulate a Neuvi/Wrio thing here. Set probably before the scenario of the game. They don't leave their respective stations often, and it would figure that one of the rare times they do find time to be in the same space Neuvi finds himself unwell. He conceals it, but Wrio is learning how to tell.

head pain/injury/ache: Fu Xuan has a migraine, and perhaps should be resting instead of working, but Jing Yuan has not returned to full duty and someone must hold down the Luofu, after all. (Jing Yuan is not particularly amused)

chaotic body temperature ???

Fake "Faking it":

Possible Alts:

Shaky/Shivery:

(this list is teaching me I might use too much plot in my sickfics but im not really sorry about it)

Not Novemetober related To Write

(assuming I don't manage to squish these into a prompt somewhere)

Alternate Abyss Corrupted Kaeya sickfic

Cyno sick on a mission (this post)

Really want to revisit sick dan heng actually now that I've found my footing even if I dont go back to that Specific prompt

Eventually want to do something with Crepus actually alive (this post)

Also the Kaeya and Diluc at the Gravesite Fic ft: Jean accidentally ruining Dilucs life (bottom of this post)

The Morning After Scene from Long, Sick Nights

Also the mentioned kaeya-saved-diluc injury+poisoning scene

Couple of these aren't sickfic (or are at least Drastically Less sickfic but wanted to note them here bc they've been mentioned and I don't want to lose them lol)

#sickfic #taking prompts/suggestions

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sickficideas · 1 year

Note

can I request Dazai x Chuuya, with sick Dazai and sickfic prompt 52 please? Thank you

https://www.tumblr.com/sickficideas/707479267971350528/sickfic-prompt-52?source=share

of course anon!! ive very much been enjoying writing skk recently...they make me sad </3

enough // skk sickfic

ao3! please refer to here for tags and warnings :)

"Can you go the fuck home, Dazai?"

Dazai groans at the sound of Chuuya's grating voice. He already has a headache, and Chuuya existing in his general space isn't helping.

"I have important things to do, unlike a certain shrimp in my vicinity," Dazai quips back. The venom in his tone comes with a recoil, it throws that throbbing in the back of his head back into full swing, and he can't help but groan at the feeling.

The truth is, Dazai really doesn't feel well. The headache is obvious enough, but he's almost certain he's developed a fever since the start of the day, too.

There's no way he's giving in to Chuuya's help, though. He has a lot to do, and they have a raid planned tonight on a group they've been working with that's been selling Port Mafia information behind their back. The preparation is a lot of work, it's something Dazai has been working on for weeks. A delicate situation against several powerful skill users.

"Hold off the raid. You guys have been planning it for weeks, what's one day gonna change?" Chuuya grumbles, taking a few steps closer to the desk where Dazai has just finished stacking his reports.

"Tonight is our only chance for an opening," Dazai huffs, as if it's obvious.

"Then I'll go."

"Yes, I definitely need gravity manipulator Chuuya in there, who doesn't know anything about the preparation we’ve been doing and is going to destroy everything in his path," Dazai grumbles.

"Come on. Don't talk about me like I'm a bulldozer."

"You are,” Dazai mumbles. He doesn’t have time to entertain his ideas. Chuuya is certainly capable of doing it himself, but Dazai has gotten this far in his planning and won’t give it up now. “There’s certain things I need to retrieve and certain people I need back alive.”

Chuuya looks like he wants to convince Dazai to just give him a brief overview on what he needs to do, but he seems to realize that he’s not going to get the information he wants. Dazai’s just the slightest bit taken aback by his silence, he’s tempted to joke about it, but he’s overcome with a wave of dizziness that has him afraid he’s about to pass out. It takes everything in him to stay standing upright, but he has to use the desk for support.

“Dazai - “

“Quit bothering me, Chuuya,” Dazai hisses. Of course he wants to go home. He feels hot and clammy and uncomfortable on every level. The sweat on his forehead is starting to make his hairline feel damp. His stomach is twisting in ways that leaves him anxious. But this has to come first.

Chuuya, begrudgingly, leaves the room.

Not long afterward, Akutagawa appears in the doorway of the office. Dazai doesn’t turn around to check if it’s him. He can tell by his footsteps. Careful, quiet. Chuuya doesn’t walk like that.

Akutagawa is supposed to come on this raid with him.

"Akutagawa," Dazai starts as he turns around, immediately getting the latter's attention. Dazai’s head swims at the motion. There’s no way he can get through any kind of combat in this condition. Maybe Akutagawa is the next best thing. Akutagawa’s never lead a raid before, though.

"Yes, sir," he answers, his wide eyes fixed on Dazai.

"I'm gonna have you take the lead on this raid. I have things to take care of here," Dazai says without even making a real decision on it first. This probably isn’t a good idea, but it’s a good chance for Akutagawa to prove himself, so he thinks the kid won’t have any objection to it. "I need the two targets brought back alive. If I find out they’re dead, you’re next.”

He doesn't completely trust Akutagawa to do this on his own. He's still healing from injuries and he's entirely too immature to be leading a raid. Akutagawa at sixteen is much more incompetent than Dazai was at his age, but Dazai can't accompany him with how he's feeling, he knows that. He might pass out any second, honestly. Or throw up, whatever comes first. He’ll get himself killed in combat. Akutagawa is the only one who knows enough about the plan to take Dazai's place.

Akutagawa doesn't look entirely thrilled by that. He waits a few moments, like he’s expecting a just kidding. "You're…you're not coming?"

"No. I'm handing this off to you, did you not hear what I just said?" he asks, and Akutagawa straightens up. Dazai feels a sharp pain right at his temple.

Akutagawa looks confused, concerned, Dazai isn’t sure. He’s more focused on the pain in his head, and he presses a hand up to the side of it as he forces his eyes shut "Yes, I did, but -"

“Forget it, Akutagawa, you…you don’t…”

He really doesn't have the time for this. Honestly, he's starting to think maybe he should get this headache treated, but for some reason, he can't see Akutagawa anymore. Everything in front of him is so blurry that it looks black, and he tries to blink it away, but it doesn’t help.

He hears the sickeding thud of his head against the carpet before he feels it. He’s not sure he even feels it before he blacks out.

…

"You're ridiculous."

The pressure against his temple is unbelievable.

The last thing he remembers is Akutagawa, so he's not entirely sure why he hears Chuuya's voice instead. He doesn’t think Akutagawa is even in the room, actually.

"I'm giving you two options. You let me take you to the infirmary, or you let me take you the fuck home. Asshole," Chuuya hisses.

"Where's…what happened?" Dazai asks, trying to force his eyes to focus as he opens them. He’s still in the same room. His head is on Chuuya’s lap, at least, and not on the floor.

"You passed out while you were talking to Akutagawa. Scared the life out of him. He thought you were dead," Chuuya sighs. He sounds thoroughly annoyed, moreso than usual. “Called me freaking out.”

Dazai huffs a laugh through his nose. "He should know I don't go down easy."

"Oh, he knows. You know how many times he's caught you trying to kill yourself?"

Dazai is suddenly reminded of how nauseous he was, but he isn't given a lot of time to really figure anything out.

"Chuuya," he murmurs in warning, bringing a hand up to his mouth for just a moment. There's so much saliva building up in his mouth that some of it slips from the corner of his lip as he tries to sit himself up, or at least move off of Chuuya’s lap. He feels it climbing up his throat and he tries to swallow it back, but it comes right back up his esophagus with a vengeance.

He leans over the carpeting and lets some of the saliva drip from his mouth onto the floor. There’s so much of it that it’s making him feel worse. He would rather just vomit right away than deal with all of the nausea beforehand, but he can already tell his esophagus won’t give it up that easy.

"You about to puke, or what?"

"How very observant," Dazai groans. He gags, but it doesn't seem to help his situation at all. He’s halfway propped up by his elbow. When he gets the energy, he’d really like to move this to some sort of toilet, but with how his head feels, he thinks he might pass out again if he tries to get up. He gags again, but nothing comes up, just more saliva. “Ugh, I…I can’t.”

Chuuya doesn't seem to waste any time. Dazai's eyes go wide when he realizes Chuuya’s gloved fingers are suddenly in his mouth. Definitely not the first time something of his has been in his mouth. Dazai has to keep his dirty thoughts to himself. Now is really not the time.

He retches once Chuuya gets far back enough. He burps around Chuuya's fingers, which prompts him to shove his hand a bit further back, as far as he can, and that seems to do the trick. Dazai can't give him much of a warning as the hot vomit rushes into the back of his throat with a final wet belch. It coats his fingers as he pulls them out and Dazai's suddenly more nauseous at the sight of that. He feels his stomach bubbling.

It’s not much at all, stomach acid and alcohol, maybe, that’s all that he’s really had today, but apparently there’s more of it. He manages to choke the rest of it out to splatter on top of the first bout before it starts to soak into the carpet.

“Gross,” Chuuya complains as he pulls his soiled glove off, but even so, he lays a hand on Dazai’s back.

“You’re the one who…urgh,” Dazai retaliates before his stomach doing a flip shuts him up. He feels Chuuya’s hand move up to the back of his neck.

“Your fever feels worse,” Chuuya grumbles, leaving his hand there for a few moments. Dazai relishes it, his hands are so cold. “I’m taking you home.”

"I don't wanna go home," Dazai says quietly as he lays his head back on Chuuya’s lap to meet his weirdly concerned gaze. He’s not used to seeing that expression. "Take me to the infirmary."

"Cool. I don't even know where you live," Chuuya grumbles. He doesn’t waste any time at all. Dazai doesn’t even have a good second to comprehend how quickly Chuuya scoops him up off of the floor to carry him like he’s his bride.

"You're so strong," Dazai teases.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. This'd be a lot easier if I could use my damn ability on you."

“You calling me heavy?” Dazai says, continuing with his teasing. Messing with Chuuya always helps him feel better.

“No, idiot. You weigh the same as a pack of instant ramen,” Chuuya teases back. “Did you have anything to eat today? Like, at all?”

“Mmm…a bottle of Sake or two,” Dazai recalls. His eyes drift over to watch the ceiling as Chuuya carries him down the hall. He knows Chuuya is trying to limit how much he moves him, but he’s starting to feel the nausea again regardless.

“Sake? That’s it?” Chuuya huffs. “You need to eat actual food.”

Dazai’s trying to think of something clever to say, but the way his stomach turns has his attention again. He doesn’t think he’s going to be sick again, at least not right now, but the nausea is seriously unbearable. He groans and wraps the arm he has laying over his abdomen just a bit tighter, hoping the pressure will help some.

“Do you need me to -”

“No, no,” Dazai sighs, “walk faster. I wanna lay down, you’re uncomfy.”

“Ugh.”

Dazai thinks he was starting to doze off just then, because when he has a second to focus on his surroundings again, he’s met with the white ceilings of the infirmary at the main building, and Chuuya gently setting him down on one of the cots. These things are so comfortable. He might try to snag one to replace the bare mattress in his shipping container.

He’s vaguely aware of Chuuya speaking to a nurse as he lays a hand over his forehead. It’s so soft, but more importantly, feels just like a cold washcloth would - that’s probably not a good sign. Dazai doesn’t have any idea how high his fever is, but Chuuya’s hands shouldn’t feel cold at all. They’re usually warm.

He feels the nurse start to look him over, and his eyes drift over to Chuuya, who doesn’t leave, for some reason. Dazai was fully expecting him to at least go sit down elsewhere, but he stays kneeled beside the cot with a hand on Dazai. It moves from his forehead to his cheek, then to his neck - he must know that it feels nice.

"Is Akutagawa leading the raid?" Dazai asks quietly, suddenly remembering his prior dilemma. He doesn’t have any clue what time it is.

"Yeah, he is," Chuuya says.

"Have you heard back? How long has it been?" Dazai asks.

"I haven't heard back," Chuuya huffs. “Hirotsu went with him. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Oh, thank god. Dazai’s glad someone was cross referencing him. Sending Akutagawa out on his own was a ridiculous idea. He really shouldn’t be making decisions like that with a fevered brain. He’s surprised Chuuya didn’t go in on it himself. He loves those types of things, but he’s here instead.

He doesn’t catch anything that the nurse says, but he already know he has a fever. Whether this is a flu or a cold doesn’t matter to him, he’ll take tonight to rest and then go back to working tomorrow. But he’ll keep his plans from Chuuya for now.

The nausea hits him like a truck for some reason when he tries to let his eyes fall shut, and he forces himself to sit up and lean forward, much to Chuuya’s surprised. He hears a complaint from him, something about laying down, but he seems to realize quickly enough that he’s nauseous again.

Chuuya holds an apparently nearby bedpan under his chin to let the stringly saliva drip into it, and all he can bring up is a sour wad of stomach bile. It burns coming up, all the way in the back of his throat. This probably would have felt at least a little better if there was actual food in his system. Maybe Chuuya had a point.

He groans, eyes screwed shut. He doesn’t think he has more to bring up, but his stomach won’t give him a break with its twisting and turning.

"Lay down, dammit,” Chuuya says after a few moments, but Dazai shakes his head. He can’t. He thinks laying down flat like that is bothering his stomach for some reason, and somehow, Chuuya feels to extract that from his mind. He says something to the nurse and she’s suddenly nearby with two more pillows to lay on top of the first one, and once they’re placed, Chuuya gently guides him back down.

“What a sweetheart you are,” Dazai half-teases.

“Shut up,” Chuuya hisses, clearly not enjoying that kind of tease in front of anyone who isn’t just the two of them, but weirdly enough, he takes his hand.

Dazai’s head starts to feel better.

He slips in and out of it for a while. The nurse places an IV and gives him some medication, something that starts to help his nausea, and Chuuya busies himself with an actual cold washcloth on Dazai’s burning forehead instead of his hand, and it really does feel nice. Sure, none of this is all-curing, but he feels better for now. His stomach doesn’t seem to have any surprise lurches left in store for him either, at least not for the time being.

He should thank Chuuya later. Dazai’s glad he didn’t let himself go back to his shipping container. This is objectively nicer. And probably a way better idea.

“Don’t you have better things to do? Port Mafia Executive?” Dazai teases weakly, hardly able to keep his eyes open. Chuuya’s still right there beside the cot. He almost feels guilty keeping him here.

Chuuya just sighs. “Enough out of you.”

He slips out of it for a little while longer, long enough for the lights in the infirmary to go off. Dazai has been in here enough times to know that means it’s past midnight.

"Is he okay?" Dazai hears a new voice ask. It’s a whisper that he doesn’t recognize right away, but it’s not Chuuya. Chuuya isn’t at his side anymore.

"He'll be fine. Go home,” he hears Chuuya hiss.

"But -"

"I'm your superior too. Go home, Akutagawa," Chuuya huffs. Dazai thinks what he feels wash over him is relief. He didn’t think Akutagawa was going to die, but if he did, it would have been due to Dazai’s ridiculous fevered ideas. He won’t admit to that, though.

"Please let me know if his condition worsens," Akutagawa says quietly.

"I will," he sighs. Dazai starts to try and sit up, just a bit, but he doesn’t have the energy. The washcloth just ends up slipping over his eyes, and he’s too defeated to do anything but lie back down. “Go home. You have your own injuries to take care of.”

He hears Akutagawa’s familiar footsteps recede, and Chuuya’s come closer, back to where he was beside the cot. This time, he sits on the space beside Dazai, and he adjusts the washcloth on his forehead.

“Go back to sleep,” Chuuya says quietly in a chiding tone, “you need to sleep this fever off.”

“Was that -”

"You do not deserve his pity," Chuuya grumbles. He seems to know that Dazai already knows exactly who it was. "I really don't get him."

"That makes two of us," he says, only slightly aware of his hoarse his voice is sounding. “The raid, did -”

“Hirotsu came by earlier to give me the report. Everything went down like you expected, and they captured the two you wanted alive. Akutagawa did,” Chuuya informs him. Dazai’s surprised he didn’t catch Hirotsu coming by. “So quit worrying and go back to sleep, dammit.”

Dazai’s surprised to hear Akutagawa brought anyone back alive. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“I’m taking you home once you’re off this IV. Don’t think for a second you get to work until this fever’s gone. Got it?” Chuuya says in a whisper, fixing Dazai’s unruly bangs before the hand rests on his cheek. Dazai can hardly see him at all, just his outline from the doorframe allowing in the hallway’s light, but he can feel his concern. It’s strange. He’s not used to it. He doesn’t think he ever will be.

“Scanedlous,” Dazai teases, leaning into Chuuya’s hand as his eyes start to fall shut again. “An executive taking me home?”

“Enough,” Chuuya tells him. “Sleep.”

It doesn’t take much, especially with Chuuya’s cool hand there on his cheek.

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