#sicfic

[dizzyiscrocodile]

Everyone and their cat has drawn this, there’s at least 3 fanfics, but I put out a Spicynoodles/dragonfruit request on twitter and someone said to do a lil sic fic scene and I, ladies and gentlemen, am a FUCKING SUCKER for sick fic content. One of thems taking care of the other and validating their pain? Sign me up I’ll sell my soul… so yea couldn’t turn down the request

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold

[oodlesodoodles]

[empressofkingfishers]

get sick idiot

and yes this is going to be Of Smoke and Teeth NariLamb shit because they've been neglected and deserve a wholesome fic as a treat

[sicktember]

In anticipation of the questions to come, we would like to go ahead and clarify the prompt ‘Pulling a Ferris Bueller’ for anyone who may not understand the reference. 

Pulling a Ferris Bueller is a pop culture reference born from the 1986 American teen comedy, Ferris Bueller's Day off.’ In the film, the titular character, Ferris Bueller, not for the first time, decides he wants to skip school. It’s a nice day and he’d like to go to Chicago with his best friend and girlfriend. He devises a complicated plan that starts with faking sick, after which he goes to great lengths to avoid being caught. These lengths include (but aren’t limited to) telling plenty of lies, creating an elaborate setup to make it appear he’s never left his bed, borrowing an expensive car and later rolling the odometer back, and hacking school records. This all becomes especially humorous as the school’s dean becomes increasingly desperate to prove that Ferris is continually absent despite the perfect attendance that had been recorded.  While out and about the trio hit several comical snags and engaged in a great deal of banter. During the film, Ferris often breaks the fourth wall to explain his choices and thought processes.

Basically, the saying, 'Pulling a Ferris Bueller' usually means faking sick to skip school/work for no reason other than to have a good time. As a trope, it tends to lean more heavily into the movie's plot and themes. You can use Either! ... or Neither!

Below, you'll find some resources to help you better understand the movie this prompt refers to. Or, you can swap this one out for one of the provided alternate prompts!

Resources ⬇

Official Trailer [Youtube.com]

Short Clip or Ferris' Sneaky Setup [Youtube.com]

Extensive Summary [Gradesaver.com]

Wiki Page [Wikipedia.og]

Tropes within the Trope [allthetropes.org]

[lime202]

Don't Mind Me,

Just imagining a canon divergence AU and that both Akaza and Kyojuro become more nervous/antsy when either of them get sick:

Akaza, (remembering his past and being recently lifted of his demonhood) thinking that Kyojuro's flushed, warming face matches too closely with the hue of his lost fiancée's cheeks.

Akaza, being too afraid to sleep (and also not yet used to it), yet also afraid to look at the weaker smiles Kyojuro gives him reassuringly; the former demon can only think of the smiles that his weakening father had forced upon his face.

Kyojuro, refusing to leave Akaza's side (especially the first time he becomes sick in centuries) because he can't bear to think about what would happen if he wasn't there.

Kyojuro, thinking of how Akaza's feign of strength too closely replicates the will of his lost mother. It's the only thing the Hashira can think of when he sees Akaza attempting to force down any grimaces or potential signs of "weakness."

Both being unable to leave each other until they are fully nursed back to health as a subconscious attempt to avoid repeating the past...

Yeah, don't mind me.

[noodlebro]

TL:DR, local porn star snorts pepper. - 🐈‍⬛/🐕

Word count: 1915

—

“Grnngh.. another fuckin’ day with Val I might just fuckin’ kill myself.” Angel whines, getting back to the hotel after work, sitting down in front of the bartender.

He takes the cocktail he always finds made for him on the counter of the bar and starts chugging it before he starts telling the bartender about how shitty Valentino is when he looks over to him and realizes he’s asleep.

“Whiskas?” He pokes and prods at the sleeping chimera-like cat demon before getting his hand swatted away by a half-asleep Husk.

*Sndrff*

“Mmmmhhhhmmm fuck do you want.” The cat says with a slightly congested sounding voice

“You uh- you good?”

Husk groggily looks up at Angel, turns around and inhales comically deeply, quickly realizing that was a bad decision, the sudden rush of cold air irritating his nose. He quickly turns around to stifle a few sneezes.

“hIH-XGNT- TSHH- HEHH-hh.” he internally groans, losing the last one and aggressively rubs his nose before turning back around to the spider.

“Fugck d’you mbeand by thadt.” The bartender says in an extremely agitated tone.

Cringing at the sound of the congestion rapidly seeping into his voice, the spider sheepishly responds “Uh.. nothin’ uh, jus’.. forget I said anything.”

“..glaldy.” 

“h-h-*hhHH* *sdnff* fuuuuu… hhHATCHH-uh. Thdere idt is! Mby god!”

The jumping spider looks at him with concern for a moment before quickly looking away, not wanting to get shouted at by a grouchy, sick Husk.

Angel goes back to his room after drinking a few more glasses and lies down on his bed with Fat Nuggets for a few minutes, before a he hears a knock on his door.

“Charlie, I am not doing trust exercises at fucking 12:05 in the morning”

“Uh, itd’s ndot Charlie-.”

“Oh shit- Whiskas, that you?” realizing it’s him, Angel quickly puts on a seductive tone after hearing his voice.

“Come to see me babycakes? Why ya visiting me in my bedroom, hm?~ Wanna come a bit closer?~..”

“Shudt the fuck ubp. Do you have adny tissues ind here or ndot?”

“Uh.. and.. Why do you need them?” He asks, concerned, dropping the seductiveness and remembering the state the bartender was previously in.

“..there was a spbill odn the bar”

“Mm.. uh-huh. Sure kitty, whateva you say” He mumbles handing him the box of tissues, his concern for him rising with every moment.

There’s a short bit of silence after, only the sound of the slight hitching of breath from Husk and the straight radiation of suspicion and worry coming from Angel.

“..thangks.”

“Uh-huh.”

Right as Husk starts walking out of the room, he’s interrupted by a series of sneezes

“hh-.HETSHH-uh- HEPSHH-ehh.. fuckging hell..”

“..bless. D’you- uh- need anything? I think I probably have medicine somewhere around here..”

“..ndo. ‘m fidne, thangks.” He says quietly, speed walking out the door.

After the door slams shut, Angel hears more muffled coughs and sneezes from outside his room.

“Okay, yeah, he is definitely sick.” He mutters to himself.

—

Angel hears knocks on his door.

“Hm?”

“Hey Angel! We’re doing more exercises today!” The puppy-like-princess chirps at his door.

“Alright, fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Okay! See you then!”

Angel slumps down onto his bed before breathing in deeply through his nose and getting out of bed.

After he finished his comically long morning routine, he walked downstairs and instinctively looked at the bar. It was empty. Now he needed to do the trust exercises without getting to even check up on Husk.

…

fuck.

—

After another long day at the studio, Angel came back to the hotel and slumped over at the bar.

“I needa drink.”

…

“Whiskers?”

“Uh, Angel? Are you gonna go to your room or are you just gonna… uh. Sit here?” Vaggie side-eyed him.

“Bitch, don’t you fuckin’ side eye ME.”

“I’m not the one who was fucking slumped at the bar waiting for someone who wasn’t even here for the ENTIRE. DAY.” She said, subconsciously flaring her wings out with her arms.

“Oh shut the fuck up, bitch, it was a long shoot, aight?... hold on, gone for the whole day? Where was he?”

“I don’t know. In his room?”

“Okay. Can I atleast still get a drink?”

Vaggie sighed and walked behind the bar counter and poured him a drink before sliding it over to him.

“Thanks, vagina.”

Just as Angel was about to grab the neck of the glass, Vaggie snatched it away from him and downed it in two seconds flat.

“FUCK YOU. IN THE BAD WAY.”

“Slow.” 

“Ugh, whateva. I’m gonna go check up on Husk.” He says walking up the stairs to the chimera’s room.

Vaggie snorted.

“Bitch, what now?”

“Someone’s down bad.”

“FUCK YOU YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH, I’LL KILL YOU AND YOUR FUCKIN’ DEMON BITCH, YOU KNOW FUCKIN’ NOTHIN’ ABOUT ME, I WILL FU-

“You never denied it,” Vaggie said with the most smug face known to the Pentagram.

“AGHH.” Angel shouts, storming off.

“Hey, before you go.”“WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW, MY FUCKING GOD.”

“Y’know, you’re not doing a great job of hiding the fact you’re concerned about  your little Husky-poo.” Vaggie taunted. (“VAGINA I SWEAR-”)  If you want him to take care of himself, you could, I don’t know, also pretend to also be sick?”

”That’s!-... actually a good idea. Damn, bitch, that's a sentence I thought I'd never say to you.”

“Okay, fuck you, now go away”

“fine.”

The spider starts thinking about Vaggie’s words. “How the fuck would I pretend to be sick anyway? Should’ve known vagina couldn’t have an actual good ideaaaa…?” His voice trails of as he walks past the kitchen, spotting a shaker full of pepper.

“Hmmmm.” Angel grins as he walks slowly towards the shaker. He makes a pile of the pepper and mentally prepares himself.

“Eh, I've done this before for my films, how bad could this even be?” He mumbles the last part “haven’t done it in a while though.” 

“Whatever, ya only live- uh- die? Once!”

He starts inhaling the pepper.

“*COUGH COUGH* DAMN BITCH HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT*COUGH*AUUH WHY IS IT SPICY ITS BURNING MY NOSTRILS”

—

“Vaggie, why is Angel running around the lobby screaming?”  Charlie concerningly looks at Angel.  

“He snorted pepper.”

“HE WHAT”

Vaggie sips her coffee.

“He snorted pepper.”

“Uh- okay.”

“This is so hilarious I’ve been recording him for 30 minutes now”

“…sweetie I really love you but…” Charlie points at Angel

—

Finally composing himself, he puts on some blush to make it look convincing.

“HUSKYYY~”  Angel yells obnoxiously 2 octaves higher then his usual voice, making it half-sound like a moan. 

“WHADT THE FUGCK DO YOU-” Angel listens to him shouting, before he gets cut off by something, which by what he can hear are muffled coughs. 

He starts walking towards Husk’s room and knocks. “Can I come in pleaseee~ I-”

He cuts himself off with a few coughs. (eh, convincing enough.) he thinks to himself.

He hears a quiet growl from inside. “..sure.”

He slumps his shoulders before going in and puts a tired look on his face and goes into Husk’s room. Feathers and used tissues cover the floor, with empty booze bottles stacked in the corner. Oh my satan, the feathers. They were piled up, some in clumps and some in groups of only one or two. Same with the tissues. “sheesh, that’s a lot,”Angel thinks, hiding a sympathetic cringe for the cat. 

Husk’s fur is matted and unclean, the fur on his tail is bent and his wings have uneven clumps of feathers. The fur around his nose has thinned, probably from rubbing too hard with tissues.

“Whadt hapbened tdo you? You look like shidt.”

“Ndot pbossible,” Husk says mockingly in a higher octave, wincing at the effort it took.

“Ha-ha. Very fudny. You sure you dond’t need anything? Ya look this close frobm collabpsing.”

“Could say the sabme for you.”

Angel internally cheers. He remembers to maybe thank Vaggie later.

“Adnyways, I feel like shidt. (“you loogk ligke shidt”) cadn I pblease lay dowdn with youu~?”

“..fidne.”

“YESSSS” He internally screams.

He pounces on the cat, launching him onto the bed.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go get Nuggs~!” 

Husk pinches his nose and acts annoyed. That is, until Angel leaves. After the spider left his room, he smiled. (Well, the closest thing he could to smile in his current condition) 

Angel comes back holding the pig and placing him softly on Husk’s lap

“Ookay! Now I’m gonna go get some medicine for you okay??”

“Arend’t you also *sdnnf* sigck? Where’d all’f this ednergy combe frobm? Odne secgond you’re coughigg nd sdneezing and a segcond away frobm crumbling, and ndow you’re agctig ligke a lil’ *snddddddfff* kid who found a dollar odn the sidewalk.”

“Uhhh. Allergies?” Angel shrugged. “Anyways, you need medicine. Be right back!”

“AW COBME THE FU-” the door slams shut and he hears the quick footsteps of the spider running

The spider comes back, panting. “Huhh.. I got some medicine, here.” He says, laying out all of it and placing 3 full boxes of tissues beside him. 

“Here, wear one of these, it’ll be more comfortable.” He says, throwing one of his robes and sweaters at Husk. 

“I- whadt- agh, combe odn. Itd’s ndot *SNDDFFFF* that bad.”

“Ah, shut the fuck up and put it on Whiskas, what, you too pussy (pun intended -authors) to be seen in somethin’ a’ mine?” 

“Oh fugck you, fidne.”

“Ha.”

“Shudt ubp.” He throws on the robe and Angel overdramatically falls onto the bed next to him

“Now take your medicine. I have water if you need it.

“Mmhfff… thangks..”

“Don’t mention it.”

“…”

“…”

“Hey, do your wings normally shed that much?” Angel’s the first to speak.

“I dodn’t kndow, I dond’t really *COUGH COUGH* (Angel winces at the sound) pbay attentiodn to thebm.”

“Aren’t you supposed to like, preen them or sumn’?” He asks, handing a cup of water over to him.

“Yeah I thingk so. Ndever really bothered tdo, though.”

“I don’t know, that looks really uncomfortable to me.”

Husk’s wings subconsciously twitched, scattering some loose feathers on the bed, causing Angel to sharply suck it with his teeth bared at the sight.

“Itd’s ndot thadt bad…”

“Oh, no, no, this is a mess, I gotta fix this up. How, exactly, are you supposed to do this?” The spider mutters, taking out all his 6 arms and grabbing a comb with one hand, running the other through the cat’s fur and using the others to get him into a position that he could work on with that was still comfortable for Husk.

“I dodn’t kndow, just pbick out adny loose feathers, I guess. I thingk you’re also s’pbosed to oil themb.”

“Do you have anything for that?”

“Yeah, I thingk idt’s idn mby drawer.”

Turns out, having 6 hands was pretty convenient for something like this. Angel used the sweater as something to put all the loose feathers and oil his wings, and after a surprisingly short time, other than the occasional interruptions from him having to sneeze (the feathers everywhere weren’t helping), but afterwards, Husk’s wings were practically unrecognizable to the mess of feathers that it was earlier today. Just as Angel was admiring his work, he noticed a slight hitch in the chimera’s breath.

“hh..hHH-”

“..ohh shit.” he mutters, just as the other demon started sneezing again, scattering the feathers everywhere.

[sneezyminniejo]

can i request a han jisung snz fic where he’s allergic to something like minhos cats or pollen (whichever you prefer) and minho takes care of him. maybe kink if your comfortable with that. if not it’s all good.

If you are still viewing my blog, I greatly apologize for the wait anon. I feel bad, but life is life. Anyway, here it is

I Forgot

“Mmnnhhh” Minho groaned as he was jostled awake. He glanced at his phone for a moment and saw that it was three in the morning. He huffed in annoyance before rolling over and closing his eyes again. As he rolled over, his arm naturally fell to the space next to him. He opened his eyes again when his arm hit empty mattress instead of his boyfriend. Minho opened his eyes just long enough to see that the younger man had gone to the bathroom before going back to sleep.

The following morning, Minho was the first one awake. It wasn’t terribly unusual, but what was unusual was the soft snoring emanating from the other side of the bed. Minho frowned as he felt his boyfriend’s forehead. It wasn’t warm, but clearly Jisung had come down with a cold. Minho got out of bed and began to get ready for the day.

While Minho made breakfast, he made sure to make it relatively simple. Just some toast and some fruit. He also made tea with some honey in it as he assumed that Jisung’s throat was probably going to be sore. He moved everything to the small table in their apartment and went to their room to tell the younger man that breakfast was ready.

Minho frowned when he realized that Jisung was still asleep. The younger man was definitely sick if he slept through breakfast being made, even if it was rather simple. He sat on the bed next to Jisung and once again felt his forehead. When he once again didn’t feel any warmth, he began to shake the younger man awake.

“Sungie, it’s time to wake up,” Minho gently said. Jisung groaned as he stretched and rubbed his face with the blanket. “Morning hyu-hihngxt, heh-heh-ngxtshhh.” Jisung sniffled as he sat up. 

“Would you like some medicine?” Minho asked. Dori hopped onto the bed and meowed softly. The two men chuckled as they gave her the pets she was demanding. Soonie and Doongie both joined when they realized they were being left out.

“I’m good hyung. It’s not thah-that bad. I’m just a bih-bit sniffly. Hh-ngxt, heh-ngxtshhh-nxgt.” Jisung rubbed his nose and reached for the tissues from the box that is kept on Minho’s nightstand.

“If you’re sure Sung. Breakfast is ready.” Jisung blew his nose and blearily followed the older man to the kitchenette of the apartment.

Jisung sat down at the table and looked confused at the very simple spread that was on the table. “Hyung, I thought you were going to make waffles today.” He sniffled as he grabbed a banana.

“I thought you'd prefer something simple and less heavy this morning.” The older man replied before setting the two mugs on the table and serving himself some food. Jisung pouted in response. “I was really looking forward to the waffles hyung. You’ve also been wa-anting to try out -hnxgtshhh, hhhngxtshhh, your new waffle maker.” Jisung grabbed a napkin and blew his nose.

Minho looked at the younger as if to get a proper read on him. After a moment of looking into his pouting eyes, the older man huffed. “Alright Sungie, I’ll make the waffles.” Minho went to work at making the waffle batter and poured the both of them some tea.

“Thanks for the tea hyung.” Jisung said as he began to sip the tea. “So, I was thinking after breakfast, we could go to the movies. That new action movie just came out, and I thought we could watch it.”

Minho stared at Jisung for a moment. “Let's see how we're feeling after everything is cleaned up. Besides, the first showing won't be until eleven or something, so we have time.” Minho agrees, even though he thinks it would be wiser to stay in.

Breakfast went mostly without incident. There had been one moment where Jisung had a mini sneezing fit with a mouth full of waffle. Minho almost wanted to put the younger on bed rest right then and there, but aside from the sneezing, Jisung didn't seem that sick.

Eventually, the time to leave for the movie rolled around, and Jisung was already wearing a light jacket before Minho could remember to ask the younger how he's feeling. Almost immediately after leaving the apartment, Jisung pitched forward in a small volley of sneezes.

“-steshhh, hih-stieshhhiewww. Sorry.” Jisung apologized as he accidentally bumped into Minho during the fit. “You’re fine Ji. Are you sure you’re up for a movie today?”

“Yeah, hyung. I’m actually really excited for this movie.” Jisung started skipping in excitement. Minho couldn’t help but laugh at that. It also relieved his worries a little because Jisung wouldn’t act like that if he were truly under the weather.

The movie ran for two and a half hours.  During the movie, Jisung was a little bit sniffly and sneezed twice. Minho was still concerned that the younger was coming down with a cold, so he decided to dote on the younger.

“Hyung, while I appreciate you making lunch, and the fact that we’re cuddling right now, but why did you make jook?”

“I made it because I wanted to do something easy. Thought we could just take a lazy day.” Minho lied, but he also enjoyed not doing anything for the day.

“Hyung, easy would’ve be-heh-stieshhh, heh-stieshhh. Been eating the kimchi in the fridge with rice in the rice maker.” Jisung grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. Minho didn’tt know what to say to Jisung’s logic, so he just shrugged in response.

The duo remained cuddled on the couch for a while. Soonie had curled up on Minho’s lap and Doongie was curled up in a cat tree. Dori had curled up in Jisung’s lap. It was perfect until Dori stood up to stretch and brushed her tail just under Jisung’s nose.

The ensuing fit of sneezes lasted eight and a half minutes. Leaving Jisung somewhat breathless in the aftermath. Minho had brought over the box of tissues and all he could do was watch as the younger seemingly went through half of said box.

“I forgot.” Minho whispered. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m an idiot.” He said a little bit louder. Jisung looked at the older man with a confused expression as he continued to clean up the mess. “Hyung, I highly doubt you’re an idiot. What did you forget?”

“Okay. You’re either going to think this is hilarious or you’re going to hate me.” Minho paused. “But, I forgot that you’re allergic to cats. The entirety of today, I thought you were sick until just now.”

Jisung laughed loudly at this confession. “Hyung, that’s amazing. It explains so much of your weird behavior today. Including making jook for lunch. I was so confused by that. But, yeah. I forgot to bring my antihistamines with me before staying the night. So it’s my own fault I’m like this right now.”

It was Minho’s turn to laugh as he stood up and briefly disappeared to the bathroom. He came back with a box of antihistamines. “Now that I’ve remembered that you’re allergic to cats, I can remember that you’ve stashed some meds here just in case.”

Jisung accepted the medication and cuddled back up with Minho. “I’m totally okay with a lazy afternoon though.” Minho smiled and the duo silently went back to watching tv.

[sicky-smut]

I haven’t written in a while, but lately I’ve been writing this self indulgent little sick-fic… featuring me lol. It’s a fantasy i’ve had for a bit now… anyways, I figured others may enjoy!!

-

Alfred was having one of those days - where he just wanted to stuff away all the sadness with some sugar.

He was already on his second package of chocolate chip cookies, licking the crumbs from his lips as he downed them one at a time. His stomach was already beginning to feel a bit full, but he just couldn’t help himself - it tasted so good.

After the second package had been downed, he raided his pantry, digging around until he found some chips and some wafers. He paused as he turned to head into the living room with an armful of snacks - there was something missing still…

Aha! Triumphantly, he whirled around to the freezer and grabbed a gallon container of vanilla ice cream and a spoon, ready to chow down.

He sat down in the living room, turning on a show as he stuffed himself with the snacks in his lap. As he ate, he could feel his stomach expanding, but he kept going despite the pressure.

As his show ended, he tossed his spoon onto the table with the empty packages of wafers and chips, having completely finished the ice cream too.

Alfred stared down into the empty ice cream container, suddenly aware of how full his stomach was. A wet burp escaped his lips and he swallowed, his stomach beginning to churn. Uh oh.

He began to stand to hurry to the bathroom but as he did so, his stomach lurched and he gagged loudly. Uncertain what to do, he sat back down on the couch and leaned over the empty container of vanilla, gagging again. This time, a thin stream of liquid dripped down, stringing to Alfred’s lips. He spit into the container, feeling his stomach gurgling once more.

Without warning, a large retch escaped his lips and vomit splashed into the container, thick and chunky with the ice cream, cookies, and other sweets he had indulged in not too long before. He groaned before burping again, his stomach still feeling stuffed.

He didn’t dare try to get up from his post on the couch and instead continued to sit hunched over the container in his hands, now warm from the vomit sloshing inside. He leaned down closer and opened his mouth, gagging softly as bile rose in his throat. Another heave hit him and vomit gushed out hard into the container, filling it nearly a fourth of the way.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, still feeling extremely nauseous. Staring down into a cardboard container of vomit wasn’t exactly helping, either.

He could still feel that he wasn’t done. A warning growl emitted from his stomach and a shiver ran through him. His mouth salivated sickeningly. It would be coming up any second now…

“Hgh-”, he gagged, but nothing came up. He took one hand off of the container and rubbed his poor stomach, hoping to encourage it to spew up the last remnants so he would feel better. He pressed on it tenderly, wincing as he did so.

As he continued to rub and press his stomach, he felt himself salivating further. The next thing he knew, vomit was rushing to his throat and with a final retch he emptied the contents of his stomach into the container.

He stared down into the creamy mixture with disgust, not sure where to go from here. After waiting to be sure that his stomach had truly settled, he rose on shaky legs and brought the container to the bathroom, dumping it into the toilet. He resisted the urge to gag once more as it splattered sickeningly into the water below.

He discarded the now-empty ice cream container and headed to his bedroom, curling up for a nap now that his stomach was settled once more.

[techyghoul]

Cold Compress

General Rating, Sickficlet of Mist caring for Zephyr.

I don't make specific mentions to disorders or medications, its all general. Warnings for mentions of quintosis control, as well as central lines (Zephyr has one).

You can find it here on AO3, or bellow the cut! This is apart of @jesusbutbetterrr idea for Ghoullete Appreciation!

The transition from one medicine regiment to another is always horrid. The changes it’s made to the body undoing themselves in real time feels like progress being stripped away. But it was what was best, Zephyr has built up too much of a tolerance for the pain management he was on, and it ran risks that weren’t worth it. He’s been in bed for days, only really moving to sit up to eat and to go to the bathroom with assistance of another pack member.

Staring at the same ceiling and walls tends to blur the line of how time passes, his only real tip being the clock on the wall and the light peaking out from the edges of black out curtains. Omega and Alpha have tried multiple times to offer a shutter that would black it out entirely, Zephyr always refused.

The first thing that pulls him out of his own haze is Mist’s cool touch to his forearm. “How you holding up Zephy?” Their voice always calm and collected. “You want me to grab you anything?” Zephyr shakes his head. “Want some company then?” Mist gets a nod.

From experience, they know most of the pain is concentrated in his back, shoulders and legs. So they crawl in behind him, smaller body pressed up as close as they can manage and it’s a relief to his body. Mist had the tendency to run colder than the other water ghouls, their body actively acting like a giant cold compress at this moment. “Thanks.” He mumbles, getting himself comfortable in Mist’s arms.

“Of course.” They smile, pressing a small kiss where hair meets the nape of his neck. “I’ll always be here for when you need me.”

Mist can feel the way the air ghouls muscles relax and give under their touch, one hand on his shoulder that’s been bothering him for days on end, trying to urge the muscles to unclench there. “Omega been by?” Quintessence control wasn’t always ideal for him, found it too mentally draining being on the receiving end, and with only three quintessence ghouls in the pack it wasn’t a feasible treatment.

“He comes by at night, usually just to get me to sleep. Phantom’s been by to help.” Zephyr smiles. “Kids cute. Afraid they’re gonna break me.”

Mist chuckles in return, settling more at his side with their arm around his middle. “They’re learning, the humans aren’t always so eager to be a teaching case. Little Quint will get better at it with time. Hells, remember Aether’s first go at it? Shaking in his boots the first time you were in a flare.”

Zephyr does remember, the first time he used his powers on him, the first time he ran fluids through his central line to learn it’s in and outs. It was sweet to see another Quint grow within their powers with the help of human medicines. He's grateful for it, even with all the small caveats of side effects and having tubes hanging out of him.

Zephyr's grateful for a lot of things, the band he had a blast touring with. The pack that accepted him and all his issues on the medical front. The Siblings of Sin that tended to him in their absence. But he's especially grateful for Mist and their unwavering support. Every matriarch is different, some more ruthless than others, but that's not them. They've never rejected him, not for a single second he's been topside. Mist has been accepting, gracious, full of wisdom he couldn't comprehend. A rock he never knew he'd need in his life.

There's a comfort with Mist, and the entire pack that he enjoys so deeply, and currently it's lulling him to sleep in their protective embrace. It's peaceful now that Mist is here, and their cool touch has his body relaxing.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.

TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.

You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.

Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.

You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.

When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.

But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.

You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.

But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.

Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.

As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.

Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.

It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.

Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.

Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.

Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.

The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.

Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.

So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.

Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.

Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.

You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.

You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.

You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.

You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.

You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.

Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.

You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.

You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.

Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.

Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.

At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.

Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.

Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.

Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.

Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?

She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.

Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.

Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.

She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.

Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.

Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.

“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.

“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.

“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.

“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.

“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.

“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.

“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.

Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.

“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.

“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.

Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.

“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.

“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.

“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.

“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.

“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.

“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.

“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.

“Asthma.” He said.

“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.

“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.

“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.

“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.

Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.

The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.

She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.

“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.

“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.

“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.

“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.

“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.

“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.

“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.

“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.

Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.

“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.

“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.

Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.

She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.

After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”

“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.

“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.

Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.

“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.

“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.

After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.

“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.

You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.

“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.

“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.

“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.

“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.

“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.

“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.

May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.

“Honey.” She said.

“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.

“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.

May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.

Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.

“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.

“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.

“But-“ you began.

“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.

She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.

“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.

“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.

“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.

You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.

“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.

“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.

You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.

You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.

Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.

“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.

“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.

“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.

“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.

“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.

He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.

“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.

“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.

“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.

PART 2

[winters-mistress]

Cirilla's broken heart.

It's Geralt of all people who breaks the silence between them. Ironic, really, that the man of so few words finds them when nobody else can. After all this time, after everything that happened, it falls to him to speak, to comfort, do to something, when nobody else knows how.

Everard! Gwain! Wake up!

His daughter and his brothers had told him she had yelled, throwing the witch's blade as the two witchers shoot up in their beds. His girl, his strong, beautiful, brave girl, had had a few precious moments of lucidity in the midst of her docility, and with it, she had saved them, imprisoning the demon in her mind.

The time between Yennefer's betrayal and the hard, frantic ride to Kaer Morhen do not make sense to the witcher. From the moment he holds his sword to her throat to that where he pushes her off him as he seeks out his girl, time doesn't add up. That's why he's tried so hard to fill in the blanks, why he asked the two of them, and his father, what had occurred in their perspective. They could handle it, they were strong, and his daughter had made sure they had survived the battle, but coming to his daughter to ask what had happened to her was something he wanted to avoid for as long as possible. The last thing Geralt ever wants to do is hurt Ciri.

"Asking how you are is a stupid question," Geralt begins. He hears his daughter inhale, but he cannot see her, she's facing away from him. "so, what are you feeling?" He thinks that's the best way to go, honesty and bluntness.

Everard had told him the ivory-hilted blade had sat in the wall with a satisfying clunk as Ciri had yelled at them to get back, get to Vesemir, get help, before the demon had taken her again, her face falling slack before falling sly, emerald eyes glowing a horrific shade of neon.

His girl, his brave girl, had fought the demon, and she had won, but it had came at a cost. She's only just recovered enough strength from her fainting and vomiting spells she'd had once they returned from the mysterious sphere. She's not strong enough to walk the keep, so she doesn't know about the destruction and the bodies of the basilisks. Geralt hopes they can rid the bodies and scrub the blood and fix the tree and the walls and the tables before his girl is well enough to start her training again. The last thing she needs is more pain.

"I-" Ciri's voice is tired and soft, it doesn't speak of thirst or gritty like she'd swallowed sandpaper. Geralt had heard her speak in many ways, loud and relieved when they'd met in the forest, monotone and untrustworthy before Nivillen, tearful and shaky once they'd left, strong and stubborn when they would train and spar, angry and bitter when Geralt had denied her the mutations. But never like this, defeated and exhausted, it chills him. "I don't know," she pauses, pushing a lock of hair from her face. It's undone and falls in curls and waves, she hardly ever wears it down, it makes her look younger and more like the Princess she is, especially with the clean white linen tunic she wears. "I don't know what to feel, what to say." Now, Cirilla turns towards him, her legs folding up behind her.

"I understand." But he really doesn't, he doesn't understand it all. He so wants to, he wants to take that pain he sees in his daughter's eyes, he wants to hold her against his chest the same way he felt when they reunited in Cintra. Will she smile if he gives her a few of her favourite strawberry jam cookies? Or will a blade do it? Will she allow him to come closer, hold her and protect her from a world that hunts her for reasons neither of them understand?

By the time Vesemir had came to Everard's room, Ciri -was she still? Or would it be more accurate to call her Voleth?- had gone. She was on her way to the medallion tree by then. Was he there then? Going up the mountain, coming into the courtyard?

Trapped within her own mind, Geralt doesn't know what she was forced to see, and it startles him. No, it scares him. His daughter is so strong, so brave, whatever that demon had forced into her mind had hit below the belt. Ciri had survived the Cintran slaughter and weeks on the run, her night with the beast and the vampire, months with unruly witchers and the betrayal of Yennefer, she had survived it, and had never reacted as such.

"How many?" She looks up at him, eyes tired, but set, as if she's resigned herself to a horrible fate.

"What?" He frowns.

"How many did I kill?"

Ah. He supposes she wouldn't know what she did after the last monster was taken down by Coën.

He knows what it is to be resigned here. Just days ago, Geralt had walked cautiously around the keep, thinking that this next turn would be the one where he would find his girl on the ground, used and eliminated due to the demon's influence. Maybe Yennefer would have gotten to her again, lead her by the hand to her death in exchange for chaos.

Geralt's fist clenches. He's so furious with Yennefer. How dare she. How dare she do that to him? To them?

The battle had begun after Voleth had refused his offer of himself as a sacrifice to save his child. Witchers crowded around her, swords at the ready, after Jaskier had ran inside the room and told them about what Yennefer had done, about how her deal with the demon had lead to Ciri being possessed, and of how the girl clearly didn't want to do them any harm, with how she had broken out of her trance and yelled to alert the witchers of the danger.

Thankfully, all the swords were pointed at Voleth, and not Cirilla. He didn't know what he would have done if Ciri hadn't saved his brothers, and the vengeance had been turned upon her instead.

Ciri had had moments of lucidity, where she had managed to push the demon to the back of her mind, enough to ask him to help her, to warn a brother of an incoming attack, or a weakness in the basilisk, but he didn't know what the girl had been through in the moments where her body was not her own. When she herself had been locked inside her own mind like a bluebird in a golden cage, he had been too busy trying to figure out a way to free his girl.

He cringes as he steps forward, watching her neck as she moves her hair. He remembered the sick crunch when she had been forced into submission, when it looked like a black, shadowy hand had grabbed her hair and forced her back. Vesemir and Gwain had heard too, for they took a moment to stop fighting their shared monster to see the source of the noise, before coming back to reality.

"None." Geralt comes back to earth, realising that she was still waiting for an answer, loathe to leave her waiting for words like he had in those first couple weeks on the winter road. "Do you not remember what happened, after Yennefer?"

"No." she whispers, fiddling with her fingers, looking down in shame. "I don't remember much from being on the road until I fell into you." Ciri pauses, licking her lips, looking up. She meets his eyes, and she looks tired. "I only remember parts of the fighting."

"Would you like to know?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, after Yennefer came into the room, she tried to give you a potion, clear the demon from you that way. All the monsters were dead by then, my brothers all coming over to see what she was doing."

"And?"

"It didn't work, clearly." Geralt walks towards her, and takes her weight as he sits beside her, his girl leaning upon his shoulder. He holds her steady, holds her strong, he will be strong so she can be weak, so she can be vulnerable and upset and frightened. Lord knows she must not have had the chance much since the slaughter. "Then she had an idea, cut her wrist and let the demon come to her instead, leave you alone."

"And that didn't work as well."

"No. It was a foolish plan. All that happened was that she fainted from blood loss quite quickly after."

Ciri chuckled humourlessly. "Sorceresses are always self centered like that."

"Indeed. I don't know what you said, what you did, but you whispered something, and then there was a loud noise. Horrid, really, even for a witcher." He nods. "A large, black figure appeared in front of you, it was shadowy, as if it was a ghost. You looked over at the room, yiur eyes were black, like all the other witchers, and suddenly you woke them all up. Even Marek, with his lack of face-" he notes that Ciri winces as if she was struck. "And Timron, with his no legs, Roose and Lukas, you brought them all back. Even Eskel and Remus, several others, too. They just appeared out of thin air, from boots to head. You brought them back."

"What? How? They weren't there." Ciri is surprised.

"You don't tend to obey the laws of the world, sweet girl. The word impossible doesn't seem to hold weight with you."

Ciri chuckles, her eyes filling with tears. She sniffles, burying her face into his shoulder.

He holds her, calms her, runs his fingers through her knotted blonde hair.

"Thank you, little wolf," Geralt says, once she's pulled back. He's lay a hand upon her cheek, comforting her as much as he is cleaning her cheek of tears.

"For what?"

"Bringing my brothers back. Thank you."

"It seems rather undeserved, when you consider I had no idea or no control over it."

"Even still. Thank you."

Ciri closes her eyes, hiding back in his hair.

"Then what happened?"

"You looked back at the shape, and it disappeared. You fainted into my arms. We thought everything was okay when you woke up, because Yennefer was healed, too, and you were free, before all the doors and windows slammed closed. Fires burned out, the lot."

"Yeah, I remember." She settles into his shoulder. "She came back for me, and I portaled us to-" she sighs. "somewhere."

"Yeah," he shuffles. He wishes he could say something to comfort her about the wraiths, what they said to her, but he finds none. "Yennefer's fine, by the way, you healed her when you healed us."

"And her magic, is that back?"

"No." He whispers, "she still knows all her spells, but she tried to light the fires and couldn't. She was upset, but she's not the priority anymore."

"What'll happen to her?"

"I don't think I can let her go with the knowledge she has, about you and about here."

"What?" Ciri pulls back quickly. Geralt's shoulder is cold, he wishes she was still where she was. Her eyes are wide, disbelieving, bright emeralds in a sea of coal. "Are you kidding? You're letting her stay?"

"She told me she helped you make a portal in Nenneke's."

Ciri hung her head. "About what happened there-"

"Shh, it doesn't matter." Geralt soothes, bringing a hand back to her face. "She took you from me, but we are together now."

She sniffles.

"When did you speak?"

"When you were asleep, two days ago."

"And that's that, then? She's staying here?" Ciri sounds nervous.

"To be no more than a tutor to you. I don't trust her, you don't trust her, my brothers don't trust her, but she told me that she helped you with a portal, and that's more than what Triss ever did. I'm told a portal I'd complex magic, too."

"But-" she starts. "You can't-"

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

"You don't understand what happened. When she took me away, we ended up at Goldencheek's house, you remember, the wife that saved me? The husband that saved you?"

He nods.

"Geralt, the fire man-" she swallows thickly. "the fire man got them. Got them all, her, her husband, and the two boys." Cirilla reveals.

Geralt allows himself a moment of grief for four lives so needlessly wasted. For the two boys who were all in all innocent, yes, he knows one of them caused his girl a bit of bother, but children should never die in their parents' war. He grieves for a woman so kind to open her heart to Ciri for no other reason than that she wanted to. And he will grieve for a long while a man who was so generous and honourable that he qiuld save a lowly witcher and put up with his sharpness and hostility just because he felt it was the right thing to do.

"After I found them, Yennefer-" Ciri takes a calming breath, sniffling as more tears come to her eyes. "Yennefer told me they were keeping you hostage in Cintra. Hurting you. Torturing you, because of me." she reveals.

Geralt says nothing, just stares at this child. This sweet, beautiful, vulnerable child who had been betrayed by everybody in her world apart from a sweet farmyard mother and a handful of mutated witchers holed up in a crumbling castle.

By the gods, how could he be so blind? How could he have fallen for Yennefer's charms so easily that she could disarm him and illusion him into thinking she had his child's best interest at heart? Surely it was because Yennefer's one mission since he had known her was motherhood, and now she had an opportunity, she does this?

As he looks at her now, all he feels is rage for the woman. Her deception aches in his bones, the depths of it startling him. He knew she had trapped Ciri and was going to lead her by the hand to the demon, but somehow this -as small of a sin as it was in comparison to that- was worse. Yennefer had messed with Ciri's mind, told her that he was in danger because of her, manipulated her and deceived her. All for what? Nothing, in the end.

"Ciri," he starts. But he finds that he doesn't know how to finish the sentence.

It seems like he doesn't have to.

The girl sniffles and wipes her tears, a fruitless task as more simply streak her cheeks, before crawling over to him and placing herself into his lap, curling into his chest and neck. His arms bound around her, warming her and keeping her safe.

"I don't want her to be with us." she sniffles. "She betrayed us, everybody always does."

"You have me, Ciri. And my brothers and Vesemir and Jaskier, you should know that I'm not going to forget this. What she's done, to us and you. I promise, I won't forget this. And I will keep you safe from her if she tries anything."

"Where is she now?"

"Infirmary. Jaskier took her there after you healed her. Stitches."

"So, you promise not to fall to your knees to her if she flutters her lashes again?"

He chuckles. Ciri bites a grin, looking so conflicted with her red eyes and her wet cheeks.

"Promise. Me and you against the world, pup. I'll keep you safe. From monsters and men and mages alike."

Ciri smiles.

"I don't want her to be with us, but if you think it's best, then you need to play bodyguard. I won't trust her again, you do understand that?"

"Of course." He wipes her cheeks again. And thankfully, they stay dry.

Ciri cuddles into him. "Rest some more, sweet girl. When you feel up to it, you can come downstairs and meet the brothers you helped."

"As long as they're not all like Lambert." Ciri yawned. "Can't handle another arse in this place."

Geralt laughs. "You can see Remus throwing him off a snowplough if you like."

Ciri smiles. And closes her eyes.

"You'll be here when I wake up?"

"I will, little one. Rest now."

[empressofkingfishers]

NariLamb sicfic done!

I dunno how to end sicfics, this is my first one 🫠

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Me when I'm coming down with an illness: This is not cute, this is not romantic. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, I'd like to fast forward through the next week until I'm well again.

Me when he's coming down with an illness: Fucking feral. Screaming, shaking, rolling on the floor, writing poetry, throwing cans of soup, screaming again.

[cuthwyn]

Finally, after 2 days with no car or headphones ... lets gooo Sicktember 2024!!

“So, how’s things, Roy?” Oliver asked, following the boy into the living room. His brow creased when Roy sniffed and wiped at his nose. “I’m sick. So y’know, living the dream.” Roy mumbled, too caught up in wrapping the blanket tighter around himself to try and stave off the chills to notice Oliver’s expression darkened with concern. “Sick?” Oliver repeated slowly, and Roy nodded with a sniff. “Uh-huh. Can’t you tell?”

Roy has fallen off the vigilante circuit and has seemed more isolative. Deciding enough is enough. Bruce and Oliver decide to hold an intervention, believing Roy to have relapsed... it doesn't go well. Roy has actually caught a cold off Jason, who is now living with him. A freshly absconded Jason that Roy and Dick are now frantically hiding the evidence of from two furious father figures. What could possibly go wrong? Day one: I'm Not Hungover, I'm Just Sick Day Twn: The Sniffles

@sicktember