#all i seem to write these days are sickfics and i have no shame

[theassassinscrook-blog]

Best Friends, No Matter What

(A Winn Schott fanfiction, acknowledging the beautiful friendship between Kara Danvers and Winn Schott)

Winn sat alone in his apartment, eyes focused blankly on the empty wall across the room from him. The daylight shining in from the windows was long gone, and the clock read '2:47AM'. His mind still raged with memories of his father, both recent and from the distant past. He had spent his entire life trying to separate himself from his father, but now he knew. Nothing he did could ever erase the truth. 

He was Winslow Schott Jr., son of Winslow Schott Sr., also known as the notorious Toyman. Now everyone knew. James, Miss Grant...Kara.

Kara.

Winn closed his eyes as he thought about her, half in pain and half in longing. Ever since he had met her, he had considered the two of them a match made in heaven. They were both undeniably kind, a little on the geeky side, and most importantly cared about others and believed in doing the right thing. 

He was in love with her, he couldn't deny it. Kara Danvers, his weakness. So many things about her made him love her. Her genuine, beautiful smile...those dark-framed glasses that she was would always push up her nose when she was concentrating...and most of all her secret identity that she first revealed to only him.

Supergirl.

Winn had kissed her earlier, as she consoled him about his father. She had been so beautiful in that light, and he just couldn't resist the temptation any longer, even knowing that she was madly in love with James Olsen. But that look that she’d had after pulling away two seconds after their lips met...Winn couldn’t wipe it out of his memory.

It had been almost...disgusted.

Winn’s tortured thoughts were interrupted as his body was unexplainably attacked by a harsh coughing fit that lasted several minutes. When it finally ceased, he was doubled over as his abdomen flared with pain and his throat burned intensely. Winn straightened up slowly before having to immediately stretch out on the couch as an agonizing headache ignited from his forehead.

He lay helplessly for a time, delirium beginning to take over his mind. He was extremely hot, and then moments later he would be unspeakably freezing. A cold sweat filtered through his body, and he shivered, teeth chattering. Winn yanked his old wool blanket that hung on the back of the sofa and threw it carelessly over his body, curling into a fetal position.

His brain ached with exhaustion and his eyelids drooped, but despite his strong desire for sleep, it just wouldn’t come. Still, he could do nothing except lie there. 

Lie there yearning for the woman who would never love him back.

“James, have you seen Winn anywhere today?” Kara asked, poking her head into the man’s office. Her cheeks flared with heat as his eyes met hers, even though most of her focus was on her best friend’s absence. She was worried about him, to say the least, especially after what had happened between them.

“Don’t think so.” James replied, his brow furrowing in concern. “You think he’s okay? Considering everything that went down recently?”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Kara replied, once again digging out her cell phone and dialing Winn’s number again. She pressed the phone to her ear and made her way back into the hall. Miss Grant would notice her absence sooner or later. 

“Eyy, this is Winn. Leave a message.”

“Winn. This is my fifth message, where the hell are you? Miss Grant is not going to be happy if she realizes you’re missing. Call me back.”

“Keera, my office!”

Kara overheard Miss Grant’s call for assistance and she sighed, shoving her phone back into her pocket and scurrying as fast as she could to her boss’s office.

“Yes, Miss Grant?”

“Where is your little friend? I’m having trouble with my computer and I need him.” Miss Grant told her loftily, eyes not even leaving the screen as she spoke.  

“Well…” Kara began awkwardly. “I don’t know?”

That was enough to get Cat’s attention. “Then find him.” She said, staring down Kara and speaking as if it were the easiest task in the world. 

“I…uh, haven’t seen him at work today…and I’ve been kind of worried about him lately with everything about Toyman…” And our kiss. Kara thought, wincing internally at the memory as she pictured the crushed look in her friend’s eyes.

Miss Grant sighed, as if the situation was a great inconvenience, and raised her eyebrows at her personal assistant. “Very well, then, Keera, you may check up on Toyman Jr., but be back before my lunch break.”

“Yes, Miss Grant.” Kara said breathlessly, already halfway out the door.

“Winn? Winn.” Kara pounded harder on his apartment door. She’d been standing there for five minutes and he still hadn’t answered the door. She waited a second more, listening, but heard nothing from within. And then she instructed her eyes to burn, to see through to the other side. And what she saw caused a pit to form in her stomach.

Immediately, she jumped into action. Kara grabbed ahold of the door handle and pulled as hard as she could, hoping she could force it open with her brute strength. But in her panic, she pulled too hard and the entire door was ripped away from its hinges.

She barely stopped to assess the damage, rushing to her friend, who lay dead asleep and unhealthily pale on the couch with a wool blanket hanging off his unmoving body. “Oh, no…” Kara whispered, kneeling beside him. “Winn.” He didn’t stir, and she rested a hand on his shoulder, noting with relief that his chest still moved up and down in the steady rhythm of sleep. “Hey.” She shook him gently, trying to coax him to consciousness. “Winn, wake up.” His eyelids fluttered slightly, but didn’t open.

Kara then noticed the sheen of sweat that coated his face, and she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Oh, Winn…you’re burning up.” She murmured to her sleeping friend. “Okay…” Kara said to herself, abandoning her effort to wake him and instead taking action to care for him. She took a pillow and gently lifted his head, which rested only against the uncomfortable arm of the sofa, and propped him up a bit against the pillow. Kara grabbed hold of the blanket that was nearly falling off him and once more settled it across his legs and over his chest, tucking it at the sides so it stayed in place.

Even these two simple actions caused him to relax it seemed, and Kara smiled sadly down at him for a few precious seconds. After settling a damp, cool cloth against Winn’s flaming forehead, Kara pulled a chair up beside him and fished out her phone, dialing James’s number and settling back.

The other man picked up immediately. “Kara? Where are you? Cat’s been asking for you.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Kara grumbled, trying to keep her voice low. “Listen…she sent me out to find Winn, and he’s not doing so hot. He’s got a fever, and I’m worried it could be the flu. Could you do me a favor and tell Cat I’m calling in for the day? I can deal with the consequences tomorrow. 

“Of course. Let him know that I tell him to feel better, okay?"

“Thank you, James.” Kara said, smiling slightly before ending the call and focusing on Winn again. I think condolences from James is the last thing he'd want to hear. Already she could see color returning to his face, but he showed no signs of waking anytime soon. Kara was glad for that. If he was sick, he needed all the rest he could get.

And she would be there for him when he woke up.

 It was a couple hours before Winn began to surface to consciousness. He had slipped into an even deeper sleep after Kara had made sure he was cared for and comfortable, and she had been convinced that he would sleep all day.  

So when his eyes slowly opened, glazed with fever and exhaustion, Kara could help but huff out in surprise. But she immediately lowered her voice to speak to him as his eyes focused on her 

“Hey, Winn…” Kara murmured softly, gently pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. It was still sweltering and his body seemed to be radiating heat. 

“Wha’s happenin’...? Kara?” Winn mumbled. “Is this a dream? Are you real?” 

Kara laughed lightly. “Quite real, I assure you.” She tenderly brushed his sweat-soaked strands from his forehead and rested her fingers in his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy…” He replied quietly, his voice almost inaudible. His eyes were half-open, but still focused on her. He coughed laboriously and sniffed, wincing as if his head ached terribly.

“Can you stay awake for a few minutes?” Kara asked. He gave a small nod and Kara stood. “You have any chicken noodle soup?”

“Want chicken wild rice…” Winn muttered, eyes closed all the way now. Kara let him doze off again as she made her way into the kitchen. It only took a couple minutes for her to pour the soup and heat it up with her heat vision. In seconds, it was steaming. 

Winn was half asleep as she fed him the soup. He only powered through about six spoonfuls before he turned his head away in disgust. “No more?” Kara guessed, regarding the furrowing of his brows, amused. He shook his head, already settling back down into the pillows. “Get some sleep.”

She didn't have to say it twice. In just seconds, he was passed out.

Her crystal blue eyes stared into his, filled with love for him and only him. His hands cradled her face and her fingers caressed the nape of his neck. Winn tucked a lock of her golden hair behind her ear and she narrowed her eyes, smiling shyly. 

“I love you, Kara Danvers.” Winn murmured, pulling her close to him. Her grin widened and she surprised him with a long, passionate kiss that caused his heart to flutter. 

“And I you, Winn Schott.” Kara nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and rested against him. “I want to wake up with you every day for rest of my life.” She whispered, one hand caressing the hair on top of his head.

“Ditto.” Winn replied, causing her to giggle.

The warmth of her touch and the comfort of her presence lulled Winn and he soon found his eyelids getting heavy. Kara's chest moved up and down against him in the rhythm of sleep.

Winn relaxed even more and rested his cheek against the crown of Kara’s head and closed his eyes, drifting to sleep with his arms around the woman he loved.

The moment Winn fell asleep in the dream world, he was jolted to the pain of reality. His head pounded as if someone was ramming a hammer against his skull and his stomach churned uncomfortably. He winced, shifting, which directed Kara’s attention to him.

“Winn? I gotta go, James. He’s awake. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The shy smile on her face was enough to stab Winn in the heart. She had had that same smile for him and only him in his dream. “Hey…” Kara greeted him quietly, taking his hand in hers. “How do you feel?”

Winn stared down at their interlocked fingers and tears began to inexplicably well in his eyes. Kara noticed and shock was evident on her face. “Winn? What’s wrong? Hey…” She kneeled down beside him and took his face with her free hand. A tear slipped down his cheek and Kara wiped it away with her thumb. “Shh...it’s okay. Just tell me what's wrong. 

“I…” Winn began, voice raspy. He stopped speaking and just closed his eyes as more tears escaped his eyes. He silently cried and Kara sat with him, stroking his cheek tenderly.

“Do you want to go to your bed?” Kara asked quietly, after a time had passed and his tears had dried. All he could do was nod. “Okay. C’mere.” She laced an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit up. That was when he took her back in his arms, as he had in his dream, and just cherished the feeling once again. Kara yelped in surprise, but willingly accepted his embrace, tightly squeezing him back. She pulled away and smiled. “You gonna be okay?”

Winn nodded, feeling almost worse after the tears had stopped. He knew, after he recovered and overpowered his emotions, he wouldn’t be able to even look at Kara the same again. Maybe someday, but not any day soon. For now, though, he treasured her presence 

Kara supported him to his bedroom and helped him lie down. Winn couldn’t hardly think as he settled back against his pillows. A coughing fit overcame him and he lay powerless after it subsided, too exhausted to do much else. She sat on the edge of the mattress beside him and took his hand once again. He looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, and she seemed to finally see what was wrong.

“It was about the other night, wasn’t it?” Kara murmured. Winn blinked in response. She looked down, obvious pain in her eyes. Pain caused by the fact that no matter how hard she wanted to, she couldn’t give him what he wanted. “Listen…” She trailed off, interlocking her fingers with his and squeezing his hand. “I may not love you the way you want me to, but, Winn, I promise you that I will always love you, no matter what.”

“Me too.” Winn mumbled after a beat, his voice sleepy and a groggy smile on his face. “Friends? 

“Best friends.” Kara corrected as his eyes closed all the way. “No matter what.”

Winn drifted to sleep knowing that his best friend would always be there for him, and that alone made him happy.

[sapphire-strikes]

Over The Weather

A little sfm sickfic I wanted to write. This is gonna be two or three chapters so this is just the first. Not very exciting but the next one should be better!

Chapter 1

~

By this morning Kamal had hoped he'd have shaken the worst of whatever he was feeling off, ignoring the aching in his body as he got dressed and persevered down the hall without so much as a wobble despite how dizzy he'd been. But when he'd finally made it to the kitchen, he bent down in one fell swoop to pick up his bag, and that simple motion finally proved too much for him

There was a particularly unpleasant, mellow burning that sat behind his eyes as he leaned, still keeled over, against the table to squeeze them closed and pinch the bridge of his nose while he waited for it to pass.

"Oh boy..." He groaned quietly to himself. He'd always been one to get sick more than other people but he usually handled it well, taking a few days to sleep it off before feeling well enough to fall back into his usual routine. But whatever bug had been plaguing him for the last few days refused to shake off.

What made it most frustrating was the way it had been coming and going, leaving him feeling well enough to go about his day normally but his body was still wracked with an unpleasant nausea that made it hard for him to concentrate. Last night and this morning were finally the exceptions, as whatever bug had been buzzing around his head had finally landed and he felt awful. There was what even felt like congestion beginning to build in his chest, his breaths coming out heavy if he breathed out too deeply.

Doing just that, he stood back up. He'd practically been sick for days now even if it was just now finally hitting him full force, and in a decision made in frustration, he decided to keep moving forward regardless.

"Kamal..." Boris who had luckily just missed that moment of weakness, entered the kitchen cautiously, slowly stepping up to Kamal's side and resting a gentle hand on his back and shoulder in an attempt to help support him. While Kamal did his best to hide it, he obviously looked awful, and no amount of sucking it up would change the flush in his cheeks or the twinge of discomfort clear in his eyes. Even the days it hadn't been bad, Boris took quick notice of Kamal's condition, but up until now, all his fussing had seemed unnecessary as he hadn't felt that bad. "I do wish you'd stay home, please. I know you say you are fine but if you do not rest this may become something worse."

"Aw, bud, I'm fine, really I'm just tired s'all." Kamal responded to the touch with a reassuring pat on Boris' arm, making a show to rest his hand on his hips and stand tall. "Right as rain, see?" Was he lying? Maybe, but he should be fine at least. He'd never been sick for more than a few days so whatever this was was probably already on its way to passing, so what was the point in worrying Boris for one more day?

"Yes, but you had a temperature yesterday, we should check it again just to be sure." Boris finally pulled away, moving to retrieve the thermometer.

"We can check it when I get back tonight, but for now I gotta go." Kamal chuckled. "It's not my fault you woke me up late." He joked.

Boris stopped in the kitchen doorway, a small look of shame crossing his face. "I...I thought you could use the rest."

"And I appreciate that, but I'll be fine I promise. If you're still worried you can make that soup you talked about when I get back, I'm sure that'll clear the rest of whatever this little bug is right up."

"Mmmm." Boris hesitated, glancing at the floor then followed Kamal's feet the whole way up his frame, landing on his roommates' tired-looking but sure expression. Then, he slowly reached his hand out, aiming to rest the back of his large fingers against Kamal's forehead, but before he made contact, Kamal stopped him, slowly pulling his hand down and giving it a reassuring pat.

"I'm gonna be fiiiiine."

"Okee, If you say so, Kamal." Boris nodded, smiling and stepping aside so Kamal could get to the living room. "Do call me when you're on your way home?"

"Sure thing, big guy." Kamal nodded, making his way to the door.

"And perhaps when you get there? Just so I know your trip was safe, yes?" Boris followed behind him, reaching around him to open the front door once they'd reached it and held it open as Kamal made his exit.

"If that'll make you feel better, sure thing!"

"You are the one that needs to feel better! But yes, yes it will." Boris nodded and the two of them shared one final goodbye before Boris reluctantly shut the front door behind him.

As soon as Boris was out of sight, Kamal heaved a loud breath, stopping on the path to his car to once again give his dizzied head a moment to catch up when apparently, the step just down the doorway was too much for him as well. He didn't turn around but he could practically feel Boris' eyes on him from the window, the big guy was most likely waiting to see him off so he rushed his recovery as to not worry him, making his way down to and into his car regardless of the way his head spun.

As soon as he was seated the feeling finally began to fade and he took another deep breath this time in relief as he gripped the wheel and leaned back, popping his back against the seat and closing eyes as he let his body adjust.

"Okay...." He whispered silently to himself once more, opening his eyes to put the key in the ignition. Slowly turning it, he was hit with a small sense of dread, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd just been frustrated up until now but he knew this wasn't a good idea. He was in no condition to be working around others let alone in their mouths and he was beginning to feel ashamed for having even considered it. He was obviously worse than he'd thought since it took that realization so long to hit him. Silently surrendering to his sickness, he decided it was best to say home.

It was then that he noticed he was still trying to start the car, like his mind had disconnected from his body while he was thinking, his eyes fell to his hand that had been holding the key in place and he finally heard the way he'd been grinding the starter holding it like that and released it quickly. Staring at his hand, he flexed his fingers slowly but he'd grown so lightheaded he couldn't focus on the movement at all, feeling almost as if his hand had fallen asleep. In one final motion, his arm dropped to his side and he looked up past the wheel just in time to see Boris fast approaching as the world fell to the side with him and his vision went dark.

Putting his confidence in Kamal, Boris stepped aside letting him make his exit even if he'd been worried. Kamal was always wise about these things, good at taking care of himself at least when he was ill, so despite his worries, if Kamal thought he was well enough to go to work, he probably was. It wasn't until he watched him stumble out to his car was that confidence replaced with his better judgment and he gripped the knob of the door as he watched through the window at the top. Something stopped him from throwing it open right away and marching out, hesitating when Kamal collected himself and proceeded much more naturally. Boris knew he always made such a fuss over the littlest things, he was sure Kamal must be getting sick of it so he stopped himself, just watching as Kamal climbed into the driver seat and strapped himself in.

He watched his roommate take a deep breath, gripping the wheel for a moment as he stretched then turned the key, starting up the car. Perhaps he was worried over nothing, Kamal was confident enough to drive so he was probably alright, he'd just need to be sure to get some extra rest tonight to help recover faster.

What small relief he was beginning to feel was cast aside when the low hum of the car starting outside evolved quickly into an ear-grinding screech and Boris peaked back out through the window. Kamal was exactly where he had been a second ago, his hand now on the ignition as he "started" the car. Boris raised a brow, opening the door to step outside and see what exactly his friend was doing.

"Kamal?" When Kamal didn't notice him or release the key Boris called out to him but received no response. "Kamal!" He called out again much louder, wondering if perhaps he simply couldn't hear him over the unpleasant sound. Then it finally stopped and Boris thought perhaps he had finally heard him that time, but instead of looking in the direction of his voice, Kamal seemed to be staring blankly downward.

Now he was worried and without hesitation this time he stepped out and made his way over to the car. Before he'd made it halfway there he broke into a panicked sprint, watching as Kamal fell forward limply in his seat.

"Боже мой, Камаль, ты в порядке?!" He rushed around the car, tearing open the driver's side door, immediately doing his best to prop Kamal back up. Quickly undoing his seat belt to better get a hold of him, Boris leaned him back and placed a hand on his face, feeling sick with panic as Kamal's head nodded limply to the side. "Камаль, проснись!" Despite the tears forcefully building in his eyes, Boris did his best to stay calm, patting his cheek gently then pressing his head to his chest.

He had to hold his breath, listening desperately for a sound of a heartbeat, and after a second he was instead met with a thick, uncomfortable heaving that drowned out whatever else was going on in Kamal's chest, but at the very least, it meant he was breathing. Relief probably wouldn't describe what he was feeling at that moment. He felt sick, sick with worry and dread at that uncomfortable sound as he cursed himself for not taking notice of it sooner.

Before he had had the opportunity to pull his head away, he was met with another sound; a small groan that resonated through Kamal's chest as he finally began to stir. Boris finally removed his head from his chest, resting a hand on his face once more to angle his head upward so he could look at him. "Kamal?! Kamal, can you hear me?" The smaller man's face scrunched up when he shook him carefully.

A little more movement and Kamal began opening his eyes, even raising a hand to press it to his head and let out another groan.

"Oh, thank God." Boris pulled him into a quick, relieved hug, leaning back once more to help steady him as he came to. "Kamal, can you hear me?" He repeated the question much quieter and Kamal removed the hand from his eyes finally focusing on him.

"Ughh, yeah...yeah, I'm- I'm okay." He spoke slowly, as he worked out the situation for himself. "I'm okay." He spoke much more surely this time, resting a hand on Boris' back as he was hugged again.

"Дерьмо, do you- do you need to go to the hospital?" Boris reluctantly stepped back as Kamal moved to get out of the car. He seemed more shaken than anything, taking Boris' hand to help steady himself.

"No... it's not serious...I think I'm just dehydrated." Kamal reasoned allowing Boris to support him as the taller man wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Happened a couple of times when I'd get sick as a kid..."

"I knew this was not a good idea! I never should have let you get out of bed!" Boris was doing his best to keep his cool, frustrated with himself and how tired Kamal really seemed.

"Yeah, you...you were right- oof!" Kamal was hoisted up bridal-style mid-sentence as soon as he stepped fully out of the car.

"You're going right back to bed and you're not getting up until I say so." Boris stated firmly, and while the initial movement had jolted Kamal's head, making him nauseous all over again, Boris held him protectively to his chest and for now at least, Kamal didn't mind, leaning into him completely as he came to terms with how much better just being off his feet made him feel.

"Thanks, bud." He thanked quietly as Boris began carrying him inside. "I'm sorry if I scared you..."

Boris wore a look of determination as he stepped inside but his expression softened considerably at Kamal's words and he once again found himself fighting off his own fear in favor of taking control of the situation. "Do not worry, we will have you "right as rain" in no time!" He assured, making a nod to Kamal's words earlier.

The rest of the trip inside was mostly silent as Boris carried him down the hall and into his room. Kamal's bed was still undone, most likely because he lacked the energy to make it this morning, and Boris set him down gently on the side. "I will call the office to let them know you're not coming in."

"You don't gotta do that, bud, I got it." Kamal said, working off his shoe with his other foot.

"No, I will take care of eet." Boris insisted. Once Kamal had dressed down enough to be comfortable, Boris placed a hand on his shoulder and chest, easing him down slowly into bed and tucking him in once he was down, doing his best to smooth out and adjust the disorderly sheets. "You need to spend your energy getting comfortable."

"Aww, man.." Kamal sighed bashfully, almost taken aback by that simple action. Boris was such a mother hen when people got sick but Kamal knew even now he was dialing it back in an attempt to be less overwhelming in consideration of how tired Kamal looked.

After Boris was satisfied with how Kamal had been tucked in, he stepped away to get a few things, returning with a glass of water and the makeshift doctor's bag he kept in the bathroom down the hall. Setting everything else to the side, the first thing he did was raise the glass to Kamal's mouth. "You...you said you were dehydrated, correct? You'll need to drink lots of water!" Boris reasoned. "What are all your symptoms?" He asked as Kamal took the glass, gingerly taking a sip. "We do not want a scare like that happening again. I am going to make sure it does not."

"Yeah, I think it's cause I ugh..." Kamal paused to think about his words as Boirs began rooting through the bag he'd brought in. "Well, it ain't just because of the fever I... threw up a couple times last night, I shoulda been drinking more."

"You threw up?!" Boris stopped his searching, standing to look at Kamal in shock.

"Y-yeah, that's when I really started feeling like crap."

"Why did you not wake me up?"

"Aww, bud, you know I... I'm a grown man and I've been on the edge of this thing for days now I didn't want you worrying any more than you already were."

"And then you still tried to go to work this morning? Kamal!" Boris sounded disappointed in him, hurt almost and Kamal cringed internally at the guilt he was feeling.

"I'm sorry, I really am, it was stupid."

"You are not stupid, Kamal." Boris sighed, a small smile returning as he crouched back down and fished out the thermometer, holding it to Kamal's mouth. "Just silly sometimes..." Kamal didn't respond right away, glancing away as he let Boris put the thermometer in his mouth. Now that Kamal had been bedded down, Boris' cheery personality seemed to be returning, but it may have been an attempt to cheer Kamal up as well. The last thing Boris wanted was for him to be sad and sick at the same time.

"Okay, now let us see...." He mused pulling the thermometer from Kamal's mouth, his hopeful smile falling right back down again to a much more worried expression. "Oh my...102.9°"

Kamal cringed, visibly this time."That would explain the killer headache." He sighed, flinching for a moment as he hadn't expected Boris to reach out to him. He wasn't sure what to expect, but Boris just gently cupped his cheek, moving up to his forehead and brushing a few of his fingers through his hair in the process as he rested his hand there.

"You really are burning up..." Boris commented sadly, but there was something else behind it. He was such a naturally worried and sensitive guy, but taking control in situations like these kept him from freaking out, so Kamal knew it best to let him. It was such a look of genuine concern Kamal couldn't begin to fight it. That combined with how cool his hands were against his fevered face, Kamal just leaned into the comfortable touch, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, bud." Kamal apologized and Boris winced. His cheeks were worryingly cold and his forehead hot. No matter how many times he saw his friends sick, he never worried any less.

"Do not apologize, Kamal." Boris finally removed his hand, instead placing it on Kamal's shoulder to ease him into actually laying down. "I'm sure you'll be right as rain in no time, but you need to rest." Boris reached into his bag once more, pulling out a small pill bottle and shaking two out, handing them to Kamal along with the glass of water once more. "Take some ibuprofen and we'll check your temperature again in an hour but you need to get some rest, okay?"

"If you think I'm going anywhere after all that, you've got nothing to worry about." Kamal chuckled weakly, taking the ibuprofen with a gulp and leaning back on his own. "What's that look for?" He asked, referencing the contemplative look on Boris' face.

"...Well, I would like to make some 'feel-better soup', but I need you to promise me you will try to get some sleep if I do?"

"Course, I promise I won't get up, kay?"

"And you will call me if you need anything? I'll be right in the kitchen!"

"You got it, bud."

"Or if you start to feel different?"

Kamal outstretched his pinkie. "I promise, Boris, I won't scare you like that again." Kamal said, finally addressing what he knew Boris was really worried about.

Boris hesitated but finally locked his pinkie with Kamal's. "Okay, but I will be back to check on you in a few minutes! You get some resties!"

"Wouldn't dream of doing anything else right now." Kamal assured him, finally letting himself relax into the cool sheets. Boris lingered at his bedside for a moment and the two of them shared a laugh at the way Kamal peeked open one eye to see if he was still there.

"Okee, okee, I am going!" Boris joked, finally heading out the door, stopping only a second in the doorway. "Oh, just so you know, I need a few things I had planned on getting while you were at work. Buuut, plans have changed so I'm going to see if Y/n is able to bring them over!"

"The kid?" Kamal actually perked up, his eyebrows raising with a knowing kind of surprise.

"Yes, is..that okay?" Boris hadn't thought much of it up until now, but Kamal's reaction left him feeling curious.

"Nah, actually..." A sly smile crept over Kamal's face and he laid back down, relaxing once more. "I think that's a great idea."

"Okee. I just wanted to make sure!" And with that, he stepped out into the hall and made his way to the kitchen. While he trusted Kamal to stay in bed, he had no plans of leaving the house while his fever was so high. So he pulled out his phone and sent a few texts, overjoyed with the quick response and answer as he opened the fridge to begin prepping everything else.

Kamal rested an arm behind his head, content to actually get some rest while he could. Just laying down helped ease the pounding in his head and the icepack on his forehead was a welcome relief from the heat. He wondered briefly if you'd agree to show considering your current condition as well, he could only guess the answer was yes by how over the top Boris would most likely describe his symptoms. Knowing you, you'd want to help regardless of how you were feeling yourself. Boris would be on high alert now too after the events of today, so chances are if he noticed anything, you'd be walking right into a trap.

"And then we'll have plenty of time to decide if I caught it from you, or you caught it from me."

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

I’m just gonna say Non-despair AU cause I want everyone to be happy. I freaking LOVE Gundham so much, he’s wonderful and I’ve been wanting to write him for a while (but stalling cause of his DIALOGUE. It’s so hard). Buuuut I decided to finally give it a shot. And to kind of vent a little cause he used to stress me out in his dark coat and scarf in tropical heat. With Kazuichi because I want them to be friends, and because I seem physically incapable of not putting Kazuichi in every fic. COULD be seen as pre-soudam if you prefer, I didn’t write it like that but it could be if that floats your boat. I do like that ship, I just like other ones with Gundham and kazuichi more. Anyway, hope you enjoy - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33543364

Warning: descriptions of overheating, sickfic. Nothing really bad here.

Kazuichi wasn’t shocked to wake up sprawled across a towel with sand in his hair and a dry mouth, completely alone on the beach. This wasn’t even the first time it had happened. When his insomnia was really bad he’d always doze throughout the next day - for some reason he couldn’t sleep in his warm, comfortable bed at night but could drop off in seconds with his head on the breakfast table or against Hajime’s shoulder. His classmates never bothered to wake Kazuichi if he was somewhere he wouldn’t be in the way, so the beach was a frequent napping spot. They always made sure to leave him in the shade with a water bottle for when he woke, so Kazuichi didn’t mind. It was normal.

What was very much not normal was waking up to Gundham grasping the front of his t-shirt, shaking him violently and yelling some weird gibberish that Kazuichi was still too woolly-headed to understand.

“Wha..?” he muttered, trying to wake up properly. For a second he wondered if he was having a weird lucid dream, because Gundham never usually touched people, especially him - though he was shaking him by the shirt instead of the shoulders.

“You’re gonna stretch out my clothes,” Kazuichi whined, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes.

“As if your tattered garments are a priority right now! Answer me with honesty, lest the demons tear your tongue from your very mouth. Have you encountered the wrath of my Crimson Steel Elephant?” Gundham cried, far too loudly.

“What?” Kazuichi mumbled. “Gundham, I can’t decipher your witchy language when I’ve just woken up.”

“Foolish mortal! This is a dire emergency!”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I shall repeat myself just once more, so listen well. Have you encountered one of my Dark Devas of Destruction? Maga-Z appears to be missing,” Gundham said. Despite the grandeur and fancy words, Kazuichi could see he did look pretty distressed, holding the three remaining hamsters in his hand as if he was scared they’d dash away too.

“Oooh, okay. You’ve lost a hamster. That’s all you had to say, Gundham. One single sentence and I would’ve understood,” Kazuichi said.

“Do not talk so disparagingly! My Devas are far more powerful than mere hamsters. And Maga-Z has an independent spirit and often attempts to cause chaos alone. I have my concerns for the safety of everyone on this island if Maga-Z wields his destructive power without my guidance.”

Gundham was completely serious, but Kazuichi had to bite his cheeks to stop himself laughing, picturing a hamster storming across the island in a tank, decimating everything. But Gundham was clearly frantic, and Kazuichi was trying to be nicer to him recently, so he sighed.

“Okay, I’ll help you look for him. We should try to get the others to help too.”

“Indeed. You were the first mortal I came across,” Gundham admitted.

“Right, what does Maga-Z look like?” Kazuichi asked, taking a long drink of water. He felt like he’d be running around in the hot sun for a while now and wanted to drink while he had the chance.

“Your memory is abysmal.” Gundham seemed irritated that Kazuichi didn’t know the hamsters by sight.

“Look, I’m not exactly on nodding terms with your ham- Devas, am I? How am I supposed to know which is which? I only recognise the chubby one.” Kazuichi pointed to Cham-P.

Gundham reeled back like he’d been slapped, spluttering in outrage. “How dare you mock his corporeal form! If Cham-P was not so patient, he would obliterate you where you stand for such cheek.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to body shame your hamster,” Kazuichi said irritably. “I wasn’t mocking. He’s just bigger than the other ones.”

“He is of the Golden variety, of course he is larger in stature. It has nothing to do with his nutritional intake.”

“Are we going to search or not?” Kazuichi snapped. God, talking to Gundham for more than five minutes was exhausting. “Do you know if Maga-Z has favourite places to go or something?”

Kazuichi let Gundham lead and did his very best not to talk to his strange companion as they searched through bushes and inside cupboards, asking any of his classmates they encountered to look too. Gundham muttered to the remaining hamsters, but didn’t try to talk to Kazuichi much either except to order him around - though his grandiose tone was quickly becoming softer and more anxious.

“Maga-Z has never disappeared from my influence for so long,” he mumbled, pulling his scarf to cover his mouth. “I cannot contain this feeling of dread.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kazuichi said, surprising himself. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

Gundham blinked, then stood up straighter. “I assure you, I fear for the inhabitants of the island. Maga-Z will come to no harm.”

But he was worrying, and even Kazuichi could see it. His searching was becoming frantic, his usually careful hands clumsy, so he knocked things off their shelves and forgot to tidy up or close doors behind them. He started running between buildings and bushes, long coat billowing, calling out for his lost hamster.

“Gundham! Hang on a second,” Kazuichi gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

Surprisingly, Gundham did as he was told, leaning against a palm tree in the shade. He wrapped his arms around his chest, pale fists gripping his dark coat. His carefully styled hair was starting to droop in the heat, and his face was very pink. Kazuichi had never seen so much colour in his cheeks before. The three remaining hamsters cowered inside Gundham’s scarf, sensing his anxiety.

Kazuichi went to lean beside him, wiping the sweat off his own forehead. He didn’t know how Gundham managed in his black clothes every day.

“We’ll find him,” Kazuichi said again. “Ibuki and Twogami and Mahiru said they’d look. And Miss Sonia looked like she was going to cry when I told her Maga-Z was missing. She said she wouldn’t rest until he was found.”

“She has a good heart,” Gundham said softly.

“Yeah…” Kazuichi paused. “Hey, you didn’t say anything nice like that about me. I’m the one who’s been running around with you in the baking sun for hours.”

Gundham didn’t respond. He’d been talking a lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, though he’d originally been giving incomprehensible orders to Kazuichi every two minutes. Souda assumed he was just growing more concerned for Maga-Z the longer he was missing - so he was caught off guard when Gundham slumped over and fell limply against him, almost bringing them both to the floor.

“Dude!” Kazuichi managed to catch hold of Gundham. “What are you doing?”

Perhaps Gundham didn’t know what he was doing either, because he had a look of sheer bafflement on his face. He tried to pull himself upright, clinging to the rough bark of the palm tree, but each time he wobbled dangerously and Kazuichi had to grab onto him again.

“What is this..? I appear to be reacting negatively to your mortal world’s atmosphere.” His usually forceful speech came out laboured and slow, and Gundham placed a hand to his lips in surprise.

“What? You’ve been surviving in this atmosphere for ages already,” Kazuichi argued. “What’s up with you? You sound drunk. Can you tell me in plain English?”

“The temperature in this godforsaken land exceeds even the fiery bowels of hell,” Gundham hissed, having to cling to Kazuichi to stay upright.

Kazuichi took a second to disentangle Gundham’s web of fancy words. “Sooo… you’re too hot. I guess that makes sense. Who wears a black coat and a scarf in this heat? And I know you haven’t had any water since we started searching. I’d better take you back to your cabin,” he sighed.

“Unhand me this instant, you fiend!” Gundham growled, though he was the one using Kazuichi like a walking stick. “I could never rest while one of my Dark Devas of Destruction is unguided.”

“Well they’ll all be unguided if you get heatstroke and drop dead,” Kazuichi said. “Half the island is searching for Maga-Z - and I’ll go back out to keep looking as soon as I can, okay?” As much as Gundham might get on Kazuichi’s nerves sometimes, he didn’t want him to get really sick or hurt. He hoped Maga-Z had enough sense not to wander into the sea or something; Gundham would be crushed.

“Hmm.” Gundham didn’t look convinced.

“Your other three ham- I mean Devas probably need to cool down a bit too,” Kazuichi tried.

Another pause. “Very well,” Gundham sighed. “I shall retire to my artificially cooled domain until the effects of this oppressive atmosphere wear off. I trust you to ensure the search continues.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk on his own, staggering alarmingly.

“Hey, careful!” Kazuichi ran to steady him. “I told you I’d help you.”

Gundham slapped his hands away. “Fool! Have you forgotten I am cursed with poison?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Could you just give an inch for once! Why do you make everything so difficult?” Kazuichi cried exasperatedly.

Gundham stuck his chin in the air and started berating Souda again - but before he’d even finished the first sentence his words died away. He blinked several times, looking dazed, swaying where he stood.

“Gundham..?” Kazuichi said nervously.

Gundham didn’t respond. He took another few staggering steps towards his cabin, then crumpled as his knees gave way under him. Kazuichi cried out and hurried to catch him, their foreheads bashing together painfully. Gundham’s skin was clammy and damp, his face looking much more… alive than usual. Kazuichi realised it was because his pale makeup was running.

“Fucking hell, Gundham,” Kazuichi groaned, hauling one of Gundham’s arms around his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, okay? Try not to pass out.”

Surprisingly, Gundham nodded, staring down at his feet like it was taking a huge effort to make them move. It was clear he was trying to be helpful, but Kazuichi had to carry a lot of his weight and they were both breathless by the time they reached Gundham’s cabin. Kazuichi breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of cool air conditioning washed over them.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled, dumping Gundham onto the bed. It was carefully made, which Kazuichi had never understood; why bother making your bed when you were just going to mess it up every night? The entire room was neat, though the giant cage meant it rather smelled like hamsters. “Right, get your coat and scarf off.”

Gundham glared at him viciously.

“Oh, that’s the thanks I get, is it? Well, no matter how annoying you might be, you’re overheated. No wonder, wearing that stupid dark coat. So get it off.” Kazuichi grabbed Gundham’s arms and yanked the coat sleeves off like he was undressing a sulky toddler. Gundham hissed a series of furious curses at him - one of which sounded like Latin, which was actually pretty impressive - and the three remaining hamsters hopped out onto the bed, startled.

“There. Was that so hard?” Kazuichi said silkily when Gundham was lying on the bed in his shirt and scarf, glaring. Kazuichi tried to take the scarf off too, but Gundham’s hissed threats became more vehement and he gave up. “Fine, keep it on then. Though I don’t think the gothic look is very sustainable in a tropical climate, man. Right, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Gundham didn’t respond until Kazuichi had returned with a cup full of water from the bathroom. “I shall take advice from one with such abysmal fashion sense as yourself with a grain of salt, fiend,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster while tomato-red and damp with sweat on his bed.

Kazuichi had to fight very hard not to pour the glass of water directly over Gundham’s head, but he just about managed to help him drink it instead. Then he grabbed the little fan from the bathroom and placed it by Gundham’s bed, dampened a cloth and slapped it rather unceremoniously on his forehead. Gundham yelped and glared again, water trickling down his temples. Good. Serves him right for that earlier comment. “There. Keep your head back or you’ll smudge your eyeliner. And don’t move. I’ll try to find Mikan while I’m looking for Maga-Z, okay?”

Gundham turned his face away, cupping one hand over the Devas protectively. He mumbled something into the material of his scarf.

“What?” Kazuichi asked.

“I said I am grateful for your assistance…”

“Oh.” Kazuichi was surprised. He’d never heard Gundham acknowledge he needed any help before - though maybe that was Kazuichi’s own fault. He’d been the one to start up the whole stupid rivalry thing (which wasn’t ever a rivalry in the first place since the girl wasn’t remotely interested). Maybe this was a step towards a reconciliation.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave you to die,” Kazuichi added awkwardly.

“You are far more tolerable when you do not echo the Dark Queen like a parrot. I once believed you had no real mind of your own,” Gundham said bluntly.

Kazuichi flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You made yourself an extension of the Dark Queen. You never disputed her or challenged her. You agreed with her every word.”

“Well… I wanted her to like me,” Kazuichi mumbled. “Look, you don’t need to lecture me about all this. You know I’ve left Sonia alone.”

“Indeed. But you still wish to befriend her?” Gundham asked. Even weak and overheated as he was, his eyes were burning into Kazuichi’s with such a fierce intensity he had to look away.

“That’s her choice. Why are you asking all this?”

“If you still seek a friendly companionship with the Dark Queen, you should not forget she is a mere powerless mortal,” Gundham said. “She does not wish to be treated like she is extraordinary. She does not wish to be around those who only agree to please her.”

Kazuichi stared at him. Was Gundham really offering advice? Was this a weird way to repay him for helping out? It was pretty embarrassing to be given advice on how to make friends from Gundham, who openly distrusted everyone - but he was friends with Sonia. Maybe even something more, Kazuichi honestly didn’t know. He’d tried to stay away from Sonia as much as possibly, partly because he wanted her to be more comfortable and partly because he was pretty fucking embarrassed by his past behaviour. But he would like to be her friend. Nothing else - he knew that wouldn’t ever happen - but friends was good.

“Now make haste!” Gundham suddenly cried, making Kazuichi jump. “Continue the search! I shall rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

“No, rest. Don’t move and especially don’t put your coat on again. I’ll find Maga-Z,” Kazuichi said quickly. He dashed outside before Gundham could protest, groaning as the sticky heat wrapped around him once more.

He started searching again, after taking a quick detour to Mikan’s cabin to ask if she could go check on Gundham and make sure he hadn’t gone out into the sun again. Almost everyone on the island was searching now, splitting off into little groups to cover more ground. Nagito was one of the last to join in - and Hajime and Kazuichi watched in astonishment as he shifted the very first box he touched in the storage room of the old building and pointed. “There he is.”

“WHY didn’t I ask him first?!” Kazuichi practically screamed.

“Ultimate Luck seems a pretty useful talent,” Hajime murmured to him, not wanting Nagito to hear. It’d only start him off on a long self-deprecating rant. “Go on then, Kazuichi. Get him.”

Kazuichi peered behind the box on his hands and knees. Maga-Z was cowering in the corner, fur dishevelled and standing on end. He didn’t look too friendly. “Why do I have to grab the stupid hamster?” Kazuichi whined. “You grab him, Hajime. I don’t like them. They look like they know too much.”

“What are you on about?” Hajime sighed. “It’s just a hamster. You can’t be scared of a hamster, Kazuichi.”

“They’re Gundham’s hamsters. They probably like… worship the devil or something.”

“Hamsters don’t worship anything. They’re just hamsters.”

“Can I go now?” Nagito asked, looking like he was losing braincells just listening to this conversation.

“Yeah, thanks, Nagito. Unless you fancy grabbing this hamster,” Kazuichi said. He looked hopeful, but Nagito left without another word.

“I’ll do it,” Hajime said, exasperated. He reached behind the box to ease his hand underneath Maga-Z, but as soon as his fingers brushed fur, the hamster made a mad dash forward. Directly towards Souda. He squealed and hastily cupped both hands around Maga-Z, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh my God, oh my God, I got him… Oh God, he’s gonna bite me, I know he is,” Kazuichi whined.

“Hey, good job,” Hajime said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d catch him.”

“I’m not a baby, Hajime,” Kazuichi huffed. Then he whimpered in a very childish way. “Ugh, he’s wriggling around. Can I… put him somewhere? A bag or something? I don’t trust him.”

“Just shove him in your pocket and let’s go. It’s boiling in here. And Gundham will be stressing about Maga-Z. Do you know where he is?”

“I had to put him to bed because he nearly fainted. He was running around in his black coat all day.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Nobody on this island has any self-preservation skills.”

“At least Maga-Z is okay.” Kazuichi studied the little ball of fluff cupped in his hands. Somehow his little ink drop eyes did look menacing. “Hey, he really does look like he wanted to go off and cause chaos on his own, doesn’t he?”

Hajime gave Kazuichi a look. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Gundham today.”

Thankfully, Gundham was still in his room and looking a lot better, though still very visibly agitated. His colour had returned to ghostly pale (he must’ve reapplied his makeup) and his eyes were far more focused - they snapped to the door right away when Hajime opened it. When he saw Kazuichi, his hands still full of wriggling hamster, his brow cleared.

“Take him, quick!” Kazuichi said, hurrying over to the bed. “I’m sure he wants to bite me.”

“You fiend,” Gundham murmured, taking the hamster. For a second Kazuichi was offended, thinking Gundham was calling him names when he and Hajime had been nice enough to bring the hamster back, but then he realised Gundham was talking to Maga-Z. He spoke to them in exactly the same way he spoke to his classmates, no silly mushy voices like most people did with cute animals.

“I can only pray you have not caused too much destruction while unsupervised,” he murmured, smoothing Maga-Z’s fur. The hamster sat up to greet him like a little puppy, and Kazuichi noticed for the first time that Maga-Z’s cheeks were bulging.

“Did he really run off just to steal food?” Kazuichi groaned. “We’ve been so stressed and he was just eating!”

“Ah yes, a feast befitting the magnificent Crimson Steel Elephant,” Gundham said, gently placing Maga-Z with the other hamsters. They circled him joyfully, happy to be reunited too.

Kazuichi threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I give up. You’re all nuts.”

Gundham turned to Kazuichi, his face solemn. “I am deeply indebted to you, as is everybody who resides on this island. I cannot speak of the terrors that may have occurred if Maga-Z was without guidance. I shall spread the story of your triumph to every other mortal here so they can show you due gratitude,” he said.

“Oh… Thanks, man.” Kazuichi could see he meant well, but the thought of Gundham telling everyone Kazuichi saved the island from a hamster’s destruction was pretty embarrassing. He could already see Hajime smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“You should stay inside a bit longer though,” Hajime said. “Just in case. You need to make sure you’re totally cooled down.”

“Indeed. I have had ample excitement for one day,” Gundham said.

“Me too,” Kazuichi mumbled.

“If you’re feeling better, you can tell everyone about Kazuichi saving the island over dinner,” Hajime said, grinning. Kazuichi glared at him.

“Asshole,” he muttered as soon as they were outside Gundham’s cabin.

Hajime burst out laughing. “Maybe he’ll make you sound really gallant and fearless when he tells it.”

“Then everyone will know it’s a lie right away. And anyway, Nagito saw what happened. Even if you don’t give away the real story, he’ll definitely tell.”

“Probably. But you did save his hamster, even if you weren’t that fearless about it. Is there a truce between you two now?”

“I suppose so. He’s not so bad. Crazy and dramatic and difficult… but okay,” Kazuichi admitted. He paused. “I don’t know what half of the words he uses mean though.”

“Yeah,” Hajime agreed. “I don’t either.”

[iam93percentstardust]

for ironfalcon could you write some domestic fluff? just something sappy and sweet

Hope you don’t mind I used this as a square for @tonystarkbingo :)

Title of Fill: I Know You Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190870 Square Filled: R5 - Sam Wilson/Falcon Ship/Main Pairing: Ironfalcon Rating: G Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Sickfic Summary: When Tony gets sick and hides away from everyone else, it's up to Sam to find his wayward boyfriend. Good thing he knows him so well. Word Count: 1316

Sam finds Tony hiding in the tower’s library. It’s not the worst hiding place he could have chosen. Most people, after all, would have thought to check the workshop or one of Bruce’s labs first. Sam isn’t most people though.

Pepper had told him once, right after he first asked Tony out, that he would end up knowing Tony better than he knew most of the people he dated. “Not because he’ll tell you things,” she had said. “But because he won’t. If you want to keep him, you’ll have to get to know him or else you’ll never be able to see past all those shields.”

She had been right, of course. She always is. His intimate knowledge of Tony has paid off several times over the last year. Today is just another example. After all, while nearly everyone else on the team had headed for the labs or the workshop in search of the wayward Tony, Sam had headed straight for the library, knowing perfectly well that when Tony is sick, he likes to read.

Sure enough, Tony is curled up in one of the armchairs next to the electric fireplace, a mound of blankets piled high on top of him. At first glance, it doesn’t look like he’s reading but then Sam spots the book dangling from his fingers. He peers again at Tony, this time noticing the closed eyes and the soft snores coming from his partially opened mouth. His cheeks are still a feverish red but it’s gone down since Sam saw him this morning before he left on his mission.

“Hey, J,” he says softly, stepping into the room.

“Yes, Airman Wilson?” JARVIS asks, just as quietly.

“How long has Tony been down here?”

He doesn’t think he’s imagining the relief in the AI’s voice as he says, “Since this morning. Sir left his room approximately ten minutes after the Quinjet took off.”

No wonder Bucky is so worried if he hasn’t been able to find Tony since this morning. The team has been gone for nearly six hours. If Bucky had searched only the usual places and hadn’t bothered checking the library—unsurprising since he spends most of his time with Steve and Clint, both of whom are people Sam doubts would ever think to look for Tony in here—then it would be easy to think Tony was missing.

“Do you think I could move him back up to his room?” Sam asks as he tiptoes closer.

“I calculate a 63% probability that Sir will wake up if you try to move him.”

“Hmm,” Sam hums. He doesn’t like those odds. “J, please let Bucky know that I found him and tell Nat to put some soup on the stove.”

He kneels down next to Tony and carefully pulls the blankets further up over his shoulder but it seems like even that is too much for Tony, who stirs. Slowly, his eyes blink open and he gives Sam a small smile.

“When did you get back?” he murmurs, voice still barely above a rasp. He’d lost his voice a few days ago. He’d only just started to get it back this morning and Sam quickly shushes him, not wanting him to lose it again.

Tony nods lethargically and holds up a hand to sign the words instead. When did you get back?

“A couple minutes ago. Easy mission, no casualties. You worried Bucky a bit. Why’d you get up?”

Didn’t want to stay in the bed. Bucky’s a mother hen.

It takes Sam a moment to process the words. He’s not as proficient in ASL as Clint and Tony are, having learned it much later than either of them. Once he realizes that Tony’s calling Bucky a worrywart, he snorts. Yeah, that’s a pretty good way to describe Bucky, who has apparently decided to take the human members of the team under his wing—with the exception of Sam, who he decides to argue with instead, and Clint, who he’s decided to give up on because he’s too much of a dumpster fire. But Tony, Nat, and Bruce? They’re all fair game.

“Babe, you’re supposed to be resting,” he says eventually, because he doesn’t think he’s supposed to be encouraging Tony’s escapades.

I am resting. Look, I’ve got blankets and tea and everything. I was even sleeping before you showed up.

“You have tea?” he asks, distracted. Tony doesn’t usually drink tea, preferring coffee or those disgusting smoothies that DUM-E makes to just about anything else.

Tony hands up a thermos. Sam takes it, opening it just a little to inhale the blend (and maybe double check that it isn’t secretly coffee). But, just as Tony says, it’s tea. Smells a little like Bruce’s preferred chamomile that he stores in a secret section of the pantry to stop certain other members of the team from finding and using all of it.

Hey!

“Sorry, you know I had to check.” He puts the thermos back down and carefully nudges Tony to the side. “Come on, get up.”

Do I have to go back to bed?

“No but I thought you’d like to sit that cute little ass of yours down in my lap.”

You can’t say things like that, Tony signs as he pouts. Even so, he shifts over so that Sam can sit down and pull him into his lap, wiggling to make himself comfortable. Sam stills him with a hand on his hip and tucks his head into the curve of Tony’s neck. Fortunately, Tony hasn’t been contagious for nearly a week at this point so he’s not too worried about catching any of his germs.

“Why not?” he asks. “It’s the truth. You’ve got the best ass on the entire team.”

Yes, I know I do but I’m sick so you can’t say things like that while I’m sick and can’t do anything about it.

He laughs and kisses the side of Tony’s head. “Really?”

Yes, really.

“What a shame. How else am I gonna tell you that I miss being able to sleep next to you?”

Tony’s smile drops away and he nudges Sam’s head so he can tuck his own under Sam’s chin. I miss you.

“I know,” he says, resting his cheek on the top of Tony’s head. “I miss you too. But you’ll be better soon and then I’ll be right there beside you again.”

This sucks.

“I know, babe,” he says soothingly. “You want me to read to you?”

Tony hesitates and then nods so Sam takes the book from Tony’s limp fingers and opens it up to the spot with the bookmark. It’s a young adult book, something he hadn’t even known Tony read until this moment, and he arches his eyebrows at the cover.

Shut up and read.

“I didn’t say anything,” he says with a chuckle. He clears his throat. “She found Fennel sniffing about the door to Mg. Thane’s office, perhaps smelling Jonto, since Mg. Thane would never leave food sitting out.”

There’s a soft knock on the library door and he glances over to see Nat standing there with another thermos. He glances down at Tony, who’s already starting to drop off back to sleep, decides he won’t be able to move him, and motions her closer. She gently places the thermos on the floor, making not even the slightest sound, and then stands back up, dropping a kiss on the top of Tony’s head as she stands.

“How did you know he would be here?” she whispers curiously.

He knows me, Tony answers before Sam can. There’s a smug little smile on his face that Sam wants very badly to kiss away, despite knowing that he can’t.

Nat smiles at the two of them, says, “Yeah, he does,” and leaves the two of them alone.

Sam kisses Tony’s head one more time and starts to read again.

[atzgiggle]

Hello!! can I suggest something with lee! seonghwa and ler! ateez hwa is a tiny bean so I think it would make people soft

Sickfic part 70283

Lee!Seonghwa x Ler!Hongjoong

A/N: thank you so much @hooongjoong for the request! wasn’t sure if with “ler!ateez” you meant all ateez members or any ateez members but either way, i’ll get a lee!seonghwa x ler! all other ateez members going soon anyways:)

also, notice how i’m physically incapable of writing anything other than sickfics/comfort fics? ha ha. enjoy. didn’t proofread as always.

(*'▽'*)

A soft knock on the bedroom door woke Seonghwa from his light sleep. He didn’t have the energy to push himself from the mattress and turn to see who it was, but he heard slow footsteps towards his bed and the rattling of some crockery. He felt his mattress towards his right, and only then did he turn his head to look up sleepily.

“How are you feeling now?” Hongjoong’s gently voice said.

Seonghwa’s voice was raspy and weak. “You guys aren’t going to practice?”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply, face down into the pillow. After an hour of puking his stomach out the previous night, Seonghwa didn’t fall asleep for another 4 hours. It was currently 10 AM, and he’d expected Hongjoong to be in the practice room with the other members by now.

“I feel like crap. My throat burns from all the vomiting, it feels like there’s a tornado going around in my stomach. At least I got some sleep..” the older answered. Hongjoong tsk’ed sympathetically and rubbed Seonghwa’s back, to which the latter relaxed.

“I brought you some tea for your throat, I figured it’d burn. You should get cleaned up and have some breakfast, Hwa. I’ll make you pancakes if you wanna?” Seonghwa stayed quiet for a moment. Was Hongjoong really gonna stay home for him, when he had so much to do? He was the busiest out of all of the members.

“What about practice? The others did go, right?”

“They did, they’re practicing the choreography without us,” Hongjoong said.

“But.. shouldn’t you be there? You’re their leader.”

“Yeah, but I’m your leader too. And you’re sick, so I’m not leaving you alone here without anyone to take care of you,” Hongjoong argued. Seonghwa blushed. “Plus, they’ve got the choreographer and Yunho, they’ll be fine.”

Seonghwa sighed and nodded. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Then don’t. I’ll make breakfast while you shower, but I can stay here for now if that’ll make you feel better.” Seonghwa nodded, and Hongjoong started to lightly draw patterns into Seonghwa’s back with his nails.

Seonghwa almost tensed up from the sensation, but he held himself back and relaxed. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering off, however. The light back rubs triggered the lee in Seonghwa, and his cheeks flushed as he imagined Hongjoong’s hands slowly moving towards his sides-

Wait. He wasn’t imagining it. Hongjoong’s fingers were really dancing towards Seonghwa’s sides, and he tensed at the realisation, tiny whimpers sounding from the vocalist.

“Hong~!” he whined, trying his very best to hide how his ears turner bright red.

“Sorry, sorry! My hands slipped,” the younger said, trying to sound apologetic, though there was a grin stuck on his face. He had suspected the older’s liking to tickling, as he always noticed how Seonghwa would raise his arms to stretch or pretend to grab something from the highest shelf, and the way he’d smile when he did receive a poke or pinch here and there. Hongjoong thought it was adorable, and Seonghwa’s reddening ears at the “accidental” side tickles was all the confirmation he needed.

For a while, Hongjoong neatly stayed in the area of Seonghwa’s back, until his shoulders stopped being so tense and he seemed relaxed again. That’s when Hongjoong dug his fingers in Seonghwa’s hips, this time a little more sudden. The latter let out a happy squeal, which he immediately tried to cover up by throwing his hand over his mouth. He squirmed until Hongjoong retreated his hands again.

“Hongjoong! Why-why did you-”

“You can tell me, you know?”

Seonghwa gulped. He had a slight idea he knew what the rapper was talking about, but he didn’t wanna think about it. “Tell you what?”

“That you like tickles.” Hongjoong’s tone was calm, with a hint of playfulness from the smirk that grew on his face as he so effortlessly exposed Seonghwa.

The older freezed. His cheeks burned hotter than the sun. How did Hongjoong find out? Was he that obvious about it? Did the other members know too? For how long?

There were a million questions swimming through Seonghwa’s brain but he couldn’t make up the right words to say something, so he stayed quiet.

“You thought I didn’t know? Oh, you cute little thing~ You’re so obvious about it, you might as well just hold a sign that says ‘Please tickle me’,” Hongjoong said, chuckling as Seonghwa whined. The older’s hand came up to hide his cheeks.

Seonghwa felt the mattress shift, and before he knew it, Hongjoong mounted his butt. His hands were still on his hips, rubbing circles into them oh so slowly and devilishly. It made Seonghwa squirm.

“Nothing to say, hm~?”

“S-shut up.”

Seonghwa expected the tickling to get worse, but Hongjoong stayed still, making Seonghwa whine with anticipation.

“Oh, you didn’t think I was gonna do anything without you asking first, did you?”

..Seonghwa really didn’t wanna ask. He could barely say the t-word on its own, in any context, let alone specifically asking Hongjoong to tickle him.

“But- but Hongjoong-“ he tried, face buried in the pillow.

“No buts, hyung. You’re gonna ask politely if you want anything. Come on, it’s not hard.” Hongjoong’s hands suddenly grabbed onto Seonghwa’s sides, and Seonghwa gasped. They moved upwards, palms smoothly running over the ribs, to his shoulder blades, down his back and back to his hips, where the fingers drummed on the slight streak of exposed skin impatiently.

Seonghwa creaked out a small, “please”.

“Please what?”

He sighed, and swallowed down his shyness and shame. “Please tickle me.”

At that, Hongjoong smirked, immediately digging his fingers into Seonghwa’s hips. This time, they did keep squeezing and pinching, sending waves of giggles through Seonghwa’s body.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Hongjoong teased. Seonghwa grabbed onto the sheets, giggling into the pillow uncontrollably.

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” he said, trying to sound a bit firm, though the words came out mixed with high pitched giggles and squeals.

Hongjoong’s hands smoothly snuck beneath Seonghwa’s shirt, and he went from squeezing to scratching and spidering, all over Seonghwa’s sides. They climbed upwards, nearing the boy’s ribs.

“It ticklehehehes!”

“Tickle tickle tickle~” Hongjoong teased, building up the anticipation before he started pressing onto all of Seonghwa’s ribs.

“Hohohongjoong pleahahahase!” the older begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Hongjoong just chuckled, and raised Seonghwa’s shirt.

“H-hong what are you dohohOHOHO nohoho~!”

Hongjoong had leaned down, pressed his lips to Seonghwa’s back and blown a big raspberry. He continued blowing raspberries, all over Seonghwa’s back, sides and hips with a squirming and begging Seonghwa beneath him.

“Stohohohop Joongiehehe, I can’t!” Seonghwa really didn’t want Hongjoong to stop. In reality, he had the biggest, happiest and most genuine smile on his face and he was happy he was finally getting what he before that moment only had dreamed about.

In addition to the raspberries, Hongjoong dug his fingers into Seonghwa’s sides once again, nearly making the older scream.

After a few more minutes of endless tickling all over Seonghwa’s backside, Hongjoong decided it would be better to let the vocalist rest for a bit. The tickles clearly cheered Seonghwa up, so he was sure he wasn’t done exploring Seonghwa’s ticklish spots for that day. He didn’t wanna drive him to the point of puking or passing out from laughing too much, though.

He got off Seonghwa’s butt, and let him catch his breath before making the boy sit up. He handed him a cup of tea.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things like these from us, hyung. It’s okay,” Hongjoong said softly.

Seonghwa blushed as he sipped his tea. “I know, I know. It’s not you, it’s just.. I was embarrassed. That’s all, it’s not like I don’t trust you, Joongie.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Good. I’m sure you’re not the only one anyways. Have you seen how San puts his feet in our lap whenever he has the chance? I’m gonna have to test that out too..” Hongjoong muttered, before standing up.

“Breakfast will be ready by the time you’re done showering. Hurry, you must be hungry, you ticklish little baby.”

Seonghwa’s face was as red as a tomato when he stepped into the bathroom.

(*^o^*)

A/N i hope you liked it!! i wanted to have hongjoong be the one taking care/being motherly of seonghwa for once cause everyone always makes seonghwa be the caring/motherly one and i’m sick and tired of it (yeAh)

i feel like my build ups to the tickles keep getting longer and longer. i like having a plot ok TT anyways have a nice day!

masterlist

[afternoonpoppy]

By Your Side

(Okay so... I have not, in fact, written a new fic involving hiccups or any of my usual fic kinks, oops. I mentioned before that I wrote a little bit of a Wolfram sickfic and since there was in fact interest in it, I'm posting it anyway! I had this hanging around in a notebook, it was actually very tiny and I ended up expanding on it a bit while cleaning it up, so it turned into a bit more of an emotional day for Wolfram than what I usually write.)

Periodically during Wolfram's time in the Academia Arcana or when he studied under his personal master, there would be days when he found himself feeling... Well, if anyone were to ask, he would insist he was quite fine. Despite any chills or headache, despite a general sense of exhaustion, despite any other number of symptoms that may have plagued him. None of those symptoms existed as far as anyone else needed to know.

After all, Wolfram's life was a busy one. When pursuing knowledge of the arcane, an art that takes years of dedication, there is no time to stop simply due to some minor congestion spurred on by allergies or a head cold. And that is why, when Wolfram awoke one cold winter morning to a sense of malaise and a mild ache in his head and neck, he chose to say nothing about it while Allister prepared for work. Wolfram was tempted to remain in bed, but he had work of his own to tend to. He had been slacking in his self-studies of magic, and it was time to correct that.

"You know, if it's gonna be this freezing cold in the morning, the least it could do is give us some prettier snow," Allister complained as he pulled a sweater on. The recent snow had come down more as sleet, the slushy kind that leaves a mess on the streets rather than nice snowbanks for snowmen on the sidewalks. Given the road conditions, Allister was leaving for work earlier than usual in order to avoid any need to rush. "You going to be okay getting breakfast for yourself?"

Wolfram nodded, a movement that his headache did not agree with, and said, "You won't need to worry about me, Allister." He found his throat meanwhile hated the act of talking and felt raw as he said those words

"Well, alright." Allister planted a kiss on Wolfram's forehead, then looked at him with eyebrows furrowed. "Hm... Are you feeling alright, Fram?"

"What? Yes, I'm quite fine," Wolfram said, just as he always did in this sort of situation. He smiled to seem more genuine. Yet he was met by the palm of Allister's hand traveling to his cheek, then forehead.

"Allister?"

"You just seem a little warm," Allister said, concern in his voice and a frown on his face.

Wolfram took Allister's hand in his own and smiled again. "I really feel fine, Allister. I'm sure I feel warmer in contrast to the winter temperature. A shame I can't keep you in bed with me for the day, it's much warmer under the covers."

"It is..." Allister sighed. "Alright, but take it easy if you do feel sick, okay? You can call me at work if something happens. You know how to use the phone, right?"

Wolfram stepped over to the bedroom door and opened it. "Allister, please, you have nothing to worry about. Now, you wanted to have an early start to work, you're going to waste that if you stay here fussing over me."

Allister still gave a skeptical look, but relented and made his way to the door. "Yeah, fine. But I mean it, get some rest if you don't feel good."

"I will if it's needed," Wolfram assured before escorting his partner downstairs.

…

Wolfram missed Allister the moment he'd left, of course. He was noticing the ache in his head and neck spreading to other joints in his body. A day in a warm bed with Allister at his side sounded more appealing by the minute. But Allister had to work just as much as Wolfram did. Just as had always been the case.

Wolfram was never the only busy person in his life. His peers were often just as skilled as he was and thus had important things of their own to do. If Wolfram were ill, should he pester them by complaining about his condition? If someone needed his assistance before they could proceed with their own work, should they be delayed simply because Wolfram came down with a fever or something similar? That would be nonsense.

It was no different with Allister. He was kind and gentle, the type to take care of a sick partner, Wolfram could guess that easily. But Allister had to work. Should he spend his day working while burdened with worry for Wolfram? Just as much nonsense.

Wolfram stared down at the old books before him on the desk, trying to make heads or tails of this passage's contents. Given the complexity of magic, it was slow-going. And even slower as Wolfram struggled to keep his eyes open.

By the time he realized he had reread the same passage three times over without absorbing any of the words in it, he decided it would be time for a break and some tea. Perhaps also that breakfast that Allister insisted on, but Wolfram felt no appetite. As a result, breakfast became tea and some toast.

...

His family was busy as well. Intelligent, just like Wolfram. A father renowned for his magic and a mother who made for a cunning and well-off merchant. Wolfram did not have notable memories of spending time with them. He hadn't spoken to them in years. There was simply no lasting bond after he'd matured.

Did... Did Wolfram have any memories of being cared for by either of them when he was unwell as a child? As far as he could tell, any memories were met with the faces of their house staff.

Wolfram put his pen down, staring at the books before him. A sound brought him out of his thoughts. The front door opening downstairs. It was only just past noon, so Allister should have been working still. But Wolfram, looking outside and seeing the car returned, made no further effort to question that. He only cared at Allister was home.

Standing up from his seat in the study reminded Wolfram of the aches in his body and sent a fresh wave of chills under his skin. He hardly wanted to move, but forced himself out of the study and downstairs.

By the front door, Allister was in the middle of removing his coat and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack in the front hall. Wolfram stood in the doorway that opened into the hallway, watching until Allister glanced to the side and noticed him.

"There's a snow storm coming in, so we closed up early," Allister said, a smile crossing his face. "Which means we can have that day in bed."

The moment Wolfram heard those words, he felt something wash over him. At first, he may have called it relief, but that hardly seemed right. Whatever it was, it brought sudden tears to his eyes. He tried to brush them away quickly, but it was too late to cover up his feelings from his attentive partner.

"Fram?" Allister asked, and Wolfram failed to come up with words to reply with. Allister asked again, "Fram?" as his voice filled with concern.

A moment later, though Wolfram's eyes were too blurry with tears to notice what was happening at first, he was pulled into Allister's arms. A warm embrace that was both firm and gentle, caring and protective. Wolfram pressed his face into Allister's neck, as Allister kept one hand on his back and the other in his hair.

"Fram, what's wrong? What's going on?"

"I... I don't feel well," Wolfram said. The words were strange to him. He felt uneasy admitting to his condition, but he was so safe in Allister's arms. "Please... please stay with me?"

"Oh, Fram..." Allister's hand lowered to the back of Wolfram's neck, quickly retreating when the contact cause Wolfram to shiver more. "Oh, I'm sorry. You definitely have a fever, though... Well, listen, I'm home now, okay? I'm home, and I don't have anything else to do today. What do you say we get comfortable - do you want the bed or the couch?"

For Wolfram, it hardly mannered where he was, so long as Allister was with him. Allister, who had treated him so kindly from the moment they'd met. Who had given him a place to call home when Wolfram had nowhere else. Who had been so supportive, and caring, and kind this whole time. "I just... May - may we sleep in the bed? Both of us?"

"Of course." Allister rubbed his hand up and down Wolfram's back. "But I'm gonna get you some medicine first, and... Have you eaten anything today? I can make you some soup."

Wolfram shook his head slowly. "No, I... I am not hungry. I only want you to stay. Please."

"Fram... Okay. C'mon, let's get you to bed."

...

"Were you feeling sick this morning after all?" Allister asked as he climbed into bed next to Wolfram.

Finally, in bed and under the covers, where he was feeling warm at last, Wolfram was starting to feel as if his emotions were coming under control once more. Now that Allister asked that question, Wolfram felt a surge of heat rush to his cheeks and he tried to hide his face in his pillow. "I... Somewhat, I suppose."

Allister gave a worried hum of a noise and brushed a hand over Wolfram's hair. "How come you didn't say anything?"

"I did not... wish for you to worry. And you are busy, and I am as well, and... I..." The gentle contact from Allister's hand made Wolfram want to just say everything at once that was on his mind. "I've... I do not know how to say something like this. I don't... No one... I've never had... Someone to care for me like this."

There was a pause, and Allister said softly, "No one?"

Wolfram shook his head, but then looked back up at Allister. "It's... I think - are things different now? Are you... Are you alright with this?"

"With wh... With taking care of you? Fram, of course I am. Besides, it's not the first time, you're terrible with Halloween candy still, remember? Have I ever seemed bothered by any of those times?"

"Well... Well, no." That was true. Allister had always been supportive any time Wolfram had felt unwell. Perhaps the fever was making Wolfram more emotional than usual, or perhaps it was the cold weather. Or perhaps Wolfram had just grown so accustomed to Allister's care that the time he was away for work had been too much. "Then... Then you don't mind? Are you certain?"

Allister smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Wolfram on the forehead. "Of course I am. I don't ever want you too feel like you don't have someone to take care of you. And I know you'd do the same for me."

Wolfram smiled back. Allister's words helped, he felt calmer with that affirmation in mind. "In that case... Is there an extra blanket? I'm still rather cold."

"Of course. You don't mind me getting out of the bed?"

"So long as you're quick about it."

Allister laughed. "There, that's the sort of bossy cuddliness I missed. More of that, please."

Wolfram couldn't help but smirk a bit with that comment. Allister truly didn't mind. Wolfram was safe here, with the person he could trust. The person he loved. "Well then, I'd like some hot chocolate after our nap, I think."

"You want hot chocolate when you're sick? You should probably have some soup or something, you know. It's better for you."

"But it would make me feel better." Wolfram added a playful pout as he said that.

"Alright, listen. How about soup after our nap, and then hot chocolate for dessert?"

Wolfram considered that. It was acceptable. "Fine. But I'd still like that blanket."

Allister smiled again and climbed out of the bed, returning to the room shortly with a quilt from the upstairs closet. Once Allister returned to the bed, Wolfram shifted closer to him. He was tired, his eyelids heavy and threatening to shut at any moment.

"That better?"

"Mm." Wolfram nodded, feeling himself begin to drift off. "Thank you... Thank you for staying with me, Allister."

"Of course, Fram. I’m going to stay right here with you as long as you want, alright? Have a good nap."

Wolfram was asleep before he heard the last of those words, but he'd heard enough to be at ease.

[solohux]

Hi! It’s been a while since I made a big fic rec post, and with the influx of new canon content with the Kylo Ren & Hux comic and The Rise Of Skywalker on its way, what better time to whack out some recs!

Happy Reading! ❤️

Also, I apologise in advance if your fic is on here but I haven’t linked your tumblr. I searched for what I could but if your blog isn’t linked in your fic or on your AO3 account page, then I’ve just put your AO3 penname!

The usual disclaimer too. This is just my opinion and by no means an exclusive list. It’s just for fun!

Good Blogs To Find Fics

◾ @kyluxficrecs

◾ @kyluxcantina

◾ @kyluxhardkinks

◾ @softkyluxkinks

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

The blogs below write a considerable amount of ABO fics and I highly reccommend checking them out for all of their fics!

◾  @thethespacecoyote | AO3 - TheSpaceCoyote |

◾ @redcole | AO3 - Redleafmornings |

◾ @thez1337 | AO3 - TheZ1337 |

◾ @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof | AO3 - SinceYouAskedMeForATaleOf

◾ sickbed_00  | AO3 - sickbed_00 |

ABO Fic Rec

◾ Falling Stars by @huxative | WIP | 31k

Armitage Hux is the omega son and ever present shame of Lord Brendol, overseer of the Arkanis region. That was, until King Snoke arranged a marriage between his adopted son and Armitage.

◾ Hadopelagic by DustOnBothSides | WIP | 25k After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead.

◾ Bodies, Can't You See? by sual | 23k | When Hux sees the positive result on the pregnancy test scanner, he comes to several alarming realizations all at once. One: that his birth control has been tampered with. Two: that the baby is Kylo's. Three: that this is his true punishment for Starkiller's failure. And quietly, in a weak, tiny voice in the back of his mind, the unsettling conclusion that he wants to keep it. He'll die before he lets anyone near his child. He'll tear apart anyone that tries to get in his way. Even Kylo.

◾ The Emperor's New Consort by @redcole | 39k | The First Order is in control of the Galaxy, in a last ditch effort to save those who are left, they request negotiations. Only to find that for the Resistance to survive they only need to give up one thing small thing -  the angry Senator Ben Organa.

◾ Babe, I'm Here Again by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof | WIP | 117k | It's 2008 and graduate student Armitage Hux has no idea why hes still hanging out with that nerd of a second year Ben Solo. Surely he had better things to do that sit around planning Dungeons & Dragons adventures with this not-at-all-attractive Alpha who he definitely doesn't think about constantly.

◾ Shades Undimmed by @longstoryshortikilledhim | 21k | Hux is a bounty hunter who teams up with renegade Jedi Kylo Ren for a hunt. They’re determined not to let their biological needs intervene with the integrity of their mission. They fail.

◾ Fields of Gold by @ mssdare | 25k | Ren and Hux crash on a planet full of strange flowers. Soon, Hux starts feeling the effects of the pollen.

◾ Unexpected by @gonna-pop | WIP | 61k | After twenty years together, Ben and Armitage have gotten comfortable. There are no surprises left in their marriage, and nothing new to learn about each other. That is, until Armitage unexpectedly goes into heat while they’re vacationing on a resort world — and a few days of renewed passion changes the course of their lives.

◾ no hope, no quarter by @thethespacecoyote | 6k | Stolen away to a temple on Moraband, Kylo Ren finds himself at the mercy of an obsessive, sinister captor. Only one person can hope to save him, and would even dare put their life on the line against such insurmountable odds—Armitage Hux, his general and lifelong mate.

◾ To Build A Home by @reluctantly-awesome | 3.7k | Ren is truly a hopeless alpha and Hux helps him reluctantly and not because he wants a home himself, not at all.

◾  In Your Debt by @pangolinpirate | 8.5k | Things work a little different in the Order then they do in the Resistance

◾ need you baby (more, more, more) by @thesunandoceanblue | 6.5k | "Ren?" "Yes?" Hux traced his finger down Ren's jawline. "You'd do anything for me, right?"

◾ Alpha You Are Knot by @darktenshi17 | 1k | Alpha Kylo Ren has finally found his perfect mate, now they can begin a family together. There's only one problem; that's not how human reproduction works at all.

◾ Amnesia by @bubbaknowlton | 10k | Hux wakes up on an unknown ship, seven months pregnant with a baby crying in a crib. The last thing he remembers is leaving Kylo Ren at Snoke's citadel. Not knowing what alpha has bred him, nor the fate of the First Order, he takes the baby, some supplies, and runs.

◾ Checkmate by @thez1337 | 3k | Alpha Kylo Ren strikes down Omega General Hux's alpha. Then he takes his place. With omega Hux's pup in tow, will Kylo keep them or make new rules for the den?

◾ Stress Relief by orphan_account | 1k |   Kylo helps his omega settle after a nightmare.        

◾ I'll Even Call You General by @asexualavenger | 1k | Without a mate, Kylo turns destructive during his heat. Snoke tasks Hux with finding him a partner.

◾ Not a Mistake by @redcole | 12k | Hux was just looking for a good time when he met the strange man named Ben, but he ended up finding a lot more.

◾  It Feels Right by @deluxekyluxtrashcan After the destruction of Starkiller Base Kylo finds out that Hux is an omega, and tries to help him by finding suppressants to replace the ones Hux lost. It turns out that there are three others omegas on board the Finalizer, and, much to a somewhat jealous Hux's displeasure, Kylo ends up getting better acquainted with one of them - Petty Officer Thanisson - just a day before Hux goes into heat.

◾ If You Can't Be with the One You Hate by @tethysian | 12.5k | At Snoke's request Hux has always helped Kylo through his heats, albeit reluctantly. Then Kylo happens to go into heat while a prisoner aboard a resistance ship. Poe is the lucky(?) alpha chosen to take care of him, and Kylo discovers he might prefer an enthusiastic partner. Hux discovers something else about himself.

◾ time whets the fang by @thethespacecoyote  | 2k | As an alpha, Supreme Leader Snoke believes he has free reign to do whatever he wishes with the omegas beneath him, including his apprentice and top general. He may wind up regretting his arrogance.

Angst & Sickfics

◾ A cup of tea for the general by Koprix & SeiG | 165k | Hux is sick. It all starts with Kylo Ren coming to bother him and ending up trying to make a cup of tea for the general. And it goes straight to hell from there.

◾ Regretful Message by Sweets_Thief | 67k | Hiding from the Resistance should be easy when they already believe they've killed you. But when you're General Armitage Hux and you can't seem to recall becoming Emperor to the entire Galaxy, it becomes a little more difficult.

◾ Ethereal Balance by NylonRabbit| 4k |    Hux becomes pregnant, and falls into a mysteriously ethereal Force induced state as a result. Kylo misses him. A lot.      

◾ monsters, cut off from all the world by  inquisitor_tohru | 8k | A successful betrayal of the supreme leader with force-suppression tech leaves Kylo Ren at Hux's mercy. He expects to be disposed of in some way or another, but instead Hux gives him an ultimatum: Ren has one year to prove he's the best possible leader or escape his bonds and 'tag' Hux back. If he fails to meet either goal he will abdicate to Hux. If he meets one or both goals Hux will submit to any punishment or command. As it turns out, Ren is more sane, logical and functions generally better, without the Force.

◾ It's Gonna Be Alright by rmartin | 3k | After Kylo Ren becomes the Supreme Leader, the tension between him and General Hux arises. Everything changes when Hux falls sick and old feelings come to the surface when Ren takes care of him. Hux's sickness brings them closer and begins something that could change not only the future of the galaxy but their own future too.

◾ No One Wants to Die Alone by @mirlolo & @kyluxtrashpit | 30k | Frustrated with Hux’s continued, untraceable assassination attempts, despite trying everything to make his new Grand Marshal happy and make amends, Kylo drags Hux and only Hux on an unnecessary mission to some awful, swampy backwater planet as revenge. When they return, though, the symptoms of an unknown, serious disease land them both in the same quarantine room in the medbay, as well as spreads to some of the crew. They quickly learn that it’s hard to go through a near death experience with someone without getting closer to them in the process.      

◾ We Have So Much To Talk About by BlackKyber | 2.5k |      General Hux’s relationship with Kylo Ren is a complicated one. Their busy lives and differing personalities often clash with each other, making it difficult for the two of them to find peace with one another.When one of them falls ill, however, life finally slows down enough for the other to be able to fully evaluate where they are in life ... and where they might be heading.    

◾ For Your Own Good by @threewinterssnow | 2k | Kylo has the flu and he's acting like it's the end of the world. Hux does not get paid enough to deal with this.   

◾ get well, general by carefulren | 1.3k | Multiple days without sleep has Hux struggling with a nasty fever, and Kylo doesn't care... Not one bit..

◾ Through Sickness and Secrets [Iatrogenic] by NatashaRS | 7.8k | Kylo Ren hates Hux. He hates him a lot. Which is why it's rather unusual that when, upon finding a sick general, he does not kill him. Cue sweet moments, bickering, and a not-so-human Hux.

◾ As long as stars are above you by @ellstra | 2.1k | Hux gets injured because he just has to put his important regal person in danger and Kylo is not amused. He's admitted he cares for Hux, why is that not enough for Hux to stop making idiotic decisions?

◾ Fear of Falling Asleep by bastilas| 10k | Upon returning to the Finalizer from a diplomatic mission, Kylo and Hux are fired upon by their own subordinates, sent careening to the surface of the forest-blanketed planet Corstris. The troopers are dead, the shuttle is barely equipped with survival gear, the weather is cold and miserable, and to make it worse: Hux is injured. It isn't an easy journey off of the planet.

◾  Didn't I Blow Your Mind This Time? by Anonymous | 15k | MCD |  Armitage Hux (34, lonely, in denial) waits impatiently for the end of Ren's mission as he goes about his routines on the Finalizer, taking no pleasure from his job.Four more days. It's always four more days, and they have lasted a very long time.

◾ With Dignity by @kyluxtrashpit | 4.4k | When Hux is captured by the Resistance, he vows to do whatever is necessary to avoid giving away the Order's secrets. Left with no other options, he stops eating and drinking, intending to end himself as a precaution. The Resistance, however, knows how much Hux knows and have no intention of losing him to anything, including himself.

◾ Flicker in the Void by @mothdust | 30k | Hux watched in silence as the light swept over his body. The power stunned him, as did the bright jet of flame as it licked its color into his eyes. This was not the calm brightness of last night in the presence of Kylo Ren. This was a different sort of light altogether, massive and deadly. It overwhelmed him. For a moment Hux felt an aching regret deep within himself, the sob of someone he used to be, bubbling up from the cold.

◾ A Reckless Act of Domination and Intimacy by the_heauxly_trinity | 110k | After the death of Snoke and the Battle of Crait, long-time rivals Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and General Armitage Hux must cooperate or everything they value will self-destruct. Hux knows he is the First Order's last line of defense against a raging, uncontrolled monster, and he knows how little he can do to influence him... until Ren's pragmatic attempt to "learn more about him" presents Hux with what he believes is his only chance, unethical though it may be, to save his cause.The story of a boy named Kylo, and a boy named Armitage, and how with their love they saved each other from every bad thing that had ever happened to either of them.Believe it or not, this gets pretty dark.

◾ Confined Spaces by @milliethecat | 31k | Kylo Ren and General Hux are captured and sold by a bounty hunter, and forced to share a cell, all while Kylo has his powers suppressed, making him see life in a different light. While Hux formulates actual plans to escape, Kylo realises that he and Hux have more in common than he thought, and a compatibility that could be both useful and devastating. Meanwhile, their captor takes a disturbing liking to Hux, and in the face of his threats, Hux comes to Kylo with a request that would indebt him to Kylo forever, if only the alternative wasn't so much worse.

◾ Meet Me Halfway by @callmelyss | 5.5k | “I don’t do that,” Hux responds in an undertone before he realizes. He flushes—hard—and scowls. “If that will be all, Supreme Leader…” He turns on his heel without waiting to be dismissed and starts to stalk back the way he came, grateful, as ever, for the wide sweep of his greatcoat, the padded shoulders making him feel less—small. He’s halfway out of the room (and what a waste of space) when what he said must catch up with Ren: “You mean you…never?”He freezes, every muscle in his body tensing. Won’t say it out loud. No, he emphasizes, clear as he can. Knowing Ren will hear, knowing he will see it regardless, terrible nosy busybody that he is. I haven’t.

◾  Scarlet Lines by @rattlesnake777 | 21k | A strange disease breaks out aboard the Finalizer and rumour has it that it befalls only virgins.

◾ To Be Truly Seen by TheKnitterati | 4k |      Kylo wears a helmet because he's extremely anxious about his appearance and thinks he's hideous. Hux finally figures this out and soothes him through a panic attack.        

◾ Before I Wake by @anorlost-the-sleepy-sun | 60k | During a mission gone wrong Kylo Ren and General Hux are captured by bounty hunters and sold to a vengeful Hutt.  Forging an uneasy alliance with his General, Kylo figures it's best he works with Hux if he wants to escape... and to keep Hux from killing him should the opportunity present itself.

◾ Hux's Secret Garden by @magicandmalice | 10k | Deep in the bowels of the Finalizer, Hux has a secret arboretum. He goes here to relax, to forget his problems for awhile, and to tend to and cultivate the fresh fruits, vegetables, and various other plants he grows there. It's his private place and no one is allowed within his sanctuary. Especially not Kylo Ren.

◾ The Escape of the Fox by @theweddingofthefoxes | 4.7k | After the First Order is defeated and Rey becomes Leia's heir, Kylo Ren and General Hux are both fugitives, and they haven't seen one another in years. Ren settles into a hermetic existence selling kyber, but when he learns Hux is still alive, he goes to find him under the pretense of staging a coup. But there's another reason he wants to see Hux again....

◾  Warp & Weft by @shinysylver | 6.7k | In the wake of Snoke's death, the Force bond connecting Kylo and Rey begins to collapse. Kylo's rapidly deteriorating health doesn't escape Hux's notice.

◾ our love is a ghost (that the others can't see) by @aptanstjarna | 14k | Ren likes flowers. Hux finds out.

◾ Staring Down With Empty Eyes by Asrael_Valtiri | 15.3k | Tonight, Hux’s lips roamed over Ren’s body, his hands following. He was a surveyor mapping out a strange, beautiful land no one else had ever seen before.No one else had. Only Hux.

◾ Do I Suffocate or Let Go by darthkylorevan | 3.2k | While Starkiller burns, Hux searches for Kylo. But when some machinery explodes Hux can't avoid injury. He doesn't move in time to avoid the burn to his face. When they are back on ship (Finalizer or Supremacy) he sees the burn blistering and peeling one side of his face. The old Imperial officers mock him behind his back. He has no time to get it looked after, let alone hide it. Eventually Kylo finds him and reassures him that there's nothing to be ashamed of.

Fantasy (Mermaid, Werewolf, Witch, Vampire AUs)

◾ A Song of Crows by @ficlet-machine | 202k | Warchief Hux has just buried his trusted Crow, and, if the Gods still favour him, a new one will find their way to his lands. Hux may be young, but he is a good leader for his people. He is ready for the commitment, the responsibility, the changes that come with a new child of the Gods at his command. The clan needs it, needs it spiritual leader if they are ever to claim ownership of all the lands from here to the Core Kingdoms. Raised a warrior, he is more than ready to paint the world red in honor of his gods. He may, however, not be entirely ready for what he will feel the first time he meets the haunted and tormented eyes of the young Crow called Kylo Ren

◾ The Season is Calling by @nerdherderette | 10k | When Armitage Hux woke up this morning, he never imagined that his eighteenth birthday would be spent like this: running through the woods with his clothes torn, slick between his legs, gun long-forgotten.

◾ Behold Tomorrow by Camellia Cook | 7.4k | Armitage is having a terrible day. He's lost his horse, lost his shield, and gotten stranded in the middle of a battle. To make matters worse, he's fighting the fearsome black knight Kylo Ren and barely managing to avoid getting killed. Then, Ren scents his biggest secret--he's an omega. He's a warrior omega, and Ren decides right then that he has to have him.Despite his better judgement, Armitage wants that too... He feels like there's something pulling them together, some connection that he doesn't fully understand. But destiny and biology be damned... He's Crown Prince Armitage Hux, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Order, and he's not giving in without a fight.

◾ Midnight Dip by @sparrowlicious | 5.3k | A two week vacation on a tropical island sounded like a dream for most people but to Armitage it got boring after the first week. So instead of doing fun things that could lead to a sunburn he looked for potential men he could fuck. And then he meets Kylo. But Kylo turns out to be more than meets the eye...

◾ Surrender by @groffiction | WIP |  21k | AU where Hux is a Merman and finds a human Kylo drifting out in his lake. After saving his arse, Kylo repays Hux by kissing him and the whole world goes up in a kriffing shitload from there.

◾ Moonlight Bay by @thesevioletdel1ghts | 5.5k | A long, long time ago, on a beautiful seashore far far away.

◾ Wet Seal by @emperor-huxxx | 2.3k | On a lazy afternoon caught between spring and summer,  mer Hux reviews his anatomy studies.

◾ Turquoise Scales by @fandomlander | 7.7k | As the lights come on, he can see Hux on the bed. He can’t help his sharp intake of breath as he takes in the scene; Hux lies down on his back, eyes closed shut and a grimace of pain on his face. He looks pale and there are drops of sweat beading on his skin. He’s naked. Kylo is by the bed in two long strides. He swallows. “Kriff…”Hux’s eyes jolt open and he throws that defiant glance at Kylo. Reaches for the covers of the bed to shield his feet and legs. But it’s no use because Kylo already saw. He saw the turquoise scales on Hux, covering a large part of his ankles and his lower legs.

◾ Vampire Hux and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Werewolf      by @nerdherderette | 6.2k | As first impressions go, Hux admits the one he made with Kylo was pretty terrible, but he sets about to remedy the situation. He should have seen the signs—the dark circles under Kylo’s eyes, the surly demeanor, compounded by the stress of moving the day right after a full moon. (Which, like, what even? That’s Creatures 101 levels of shit not to do. Hux has no illusions about the intelligence of his new neighbor, but then again, his ass isn’t screaming for a good braining). He shakes his head. A fucking werewolf. Here, in Arkanis Hills.

◾ Hungry for The Kill by @nonsensicalsoliloquy | 47k | As was clearly his lot, Kylo’s day went from over the moon to piece of utter horseshit in a matter of progressively depressing hours. His ginger hadn’t shown up to the library – an anomaly in itself – on the very day Kylo had finally worked up the nerve to talk to him; his subsequent wild run in the woods had yielded little relief for his dismal mood, and on top of that he’d somehow gotten tricked into a trap of a trap through sheer disbelief of a hunter’s stupidity. And now. Now he was locked in a cage in some shady room, stuck in his wolf form, wounded and cramped and not at all pleased. But worse still, it appeared as though Kylo was not the only restless animal trapped there, anxious of an uncertain fate no doubt waiting for them all.

◾ Under the Moonlight by @threewinterssnow | 2.8k | Kylo has moved into a new neighborhood in hopes of better keeping his condition a secret and he has a very cute new neighbor.  But he might also have a few secrets.

◾ You Big Bad Wolf by @insanitysqueen | 12k | Hux meets an interesting person online. They chat, having the same kind of kinks and this 'REN' has a truly artful way of composing dirty messages, but never lets go of that werewolf-persona from when they first began to talk. Though Hux doesn't feel intimidated enough to turn down the invitation to this gorgeous strangers home. Especially during a weekend where the full moon will be shining.

◾ Full Moon by huxaholic | 2.7k | Mpreg | Pregnancy is dangerous for werewolves so Kylo and Hux take what precautions they can to try and make it as safe as possible for Hux. It's difficult though, and tiring for them both, and Hux wishes it was over.

◾ Fang & Bang by @sparrowlicious | 10k | Armitage Hux is an ancient vampire who tries to live his life as a good citizen. Kylo Ren is his werewolf neighbor who caught his eye shortly after he moved in two months ago.One night during a full moon Kylo Ren ends up on Hux's couch uninvited. Hux sees it as an opportunity to get to know him better...

◾ Silver by @bubbaknowlton | 5.3k | Mpreg | Ren is bringing Hux and their daughter to meet his family. Problem is, the Skywalker-Organa-Solo's are monster hunters, and Hux is a vampire. He doesn't get to warn all his family members in time before they see him, and Han 'defends' the property by shooting Hux with a few silver bullets, sending him fleeing into the woods.

◾ Sense of Him by @mademoisellebianx | 42.6k | To escape the violence of war that tore down their hometown, Armitage Hux and his father fled to the quiet and peaceful town of Chandrila where Armitage meets Ben Solo, the mayor’s mysterious and melancholic son. Soon, Armitage began to unravel that the town Chandrila holds a deep, dark secret that the mayor tries to cover up. One fateful night, he was thrust into a supernatural world of men and monsters and his life was completely changed.

◾ The Onyx Mine by @theweddingofthefoxes | 3.7k | "So a monster!kylo au where Hux has to keep Kylo under control when he's in his monster state, and keeps him on a leash or in a cage. But then one day he puts him in it when he's more in control and finds that it's arousing for both of them to treat Kylo almost like his pet."

◾ On the upper glass shelf by @courgette96 | 22.5k | There once was a lead soldier with a crack on his face, who lived under the bed where forgotten toys go. There once was a doll on the upper glass shelf, where fragile things are kept out of reach. There were many things between them: a whole room, a whole shelf, a Shadow that slithered under the bed. And something bigger still, that would allow them to overcome all of it.

◾ Captive by @embershx | 2.9k | When Hux followed Kylo Ren home he should have expected he would end up like this - In the vampire's basement bound, helpless, and unable to resist.

◾ The Witch and His Wendigo by @magicandmalice | 10.6k | Kylo Ren is a powerful Witch of the Forest. When he stumbles across a rare and fascinating Wendigo one evening, he decides then and there he will do anything it takes to make him his.  Now he just has to convince the creature, one that lives only to sate it's hunger, of his intentions and not end up it's next meal.

Fluff

◾ here comes the first day by @ingu | 8k | The moment Hux threw himself in front of the blaster shot meant for Kylo Ren was the moment he realised that he had well and truly gone out of his mind. (Or, the one where Hux tries to save the life of Kylo Ren and accidentally saves himself in the process.)

◾ a most lovely tarnish by @thethespacecoyote | 2.2k | Kylo returns from a mission with a few more grey hairs than he had before. Hux is fascinated, and maybe a little attracted to how well his lover seems to be aging.

◾ Searching for Your Visible Soul by ozsyn | <1k |<br>The Supreme Leader of the First Order returns from his latest round of negotiations on a far-off planet. General Hux eagerly awaits his return but was under the false impression that he would be returning alone.

◾ Haunted Dreams by @threewinterssnow | 3k | It's not the first time Kylo has been unable to sleep. The solution, he thinks, is with Hux. But he doesn't think Hux has any interest in helping him.

◾ just a little hush, babe by @begforyourmercy | 2.3k | Kylo can't fall sleep, and Hux can't sleep without him.

◾ Here by @babbushka | 1.4k | “I’m never letting you go.” Kylo’s beautiful face faded away as the black of complete unconsciousness overtook the both of them, knowing that when they would wake, they would get to spend each waking moment together.

◾ Sharpshooter by Sweets_Thief | 71k | When Snoke sends Hux on a secret mission Kylo learns something new about the General he assumed had no military training except for the studies he did in books. It draws them closer together and Kylo thinks they'd make an unstoppable team. But fate has other plans for them.

◾They Who Hold The Galaxy Upon a String by @mademoisellebianx | 19.8k For so long, it irked Armitage Hux that Kylo Ren had never given him attention. It may be ironic how much he wanted the attention of someone he supposedly hated, but Armitage could not help himself. After proposing a truce between him and the Supreme Leader (a truce that backfired when Kylo asked him to prove his loyalty by becoming the Supreme Leader’s consort), he finally got most, if not all, of Kylo's attention. Too much of it, in fact.

◾ Someone like you by @minzimpression | 19k | Hux is in his last year at the Academy and meets a guy named Ben. Ben certainly makes his last year interesting. It's a shame that he breaks Hux's heart and vanishes into thin air.

◾ You Made Me Love You (I Didn't Want to Do It) by @fandomfix8 | 2.7k | Kylo Ren has a temper. Armitage Hux hates how it makes him feel. And then Kylo gets hurt while on a mission.

◾ In the Darkness by @loserchildhotpants | <1k |</b> One character playing with the other’s hair

Historical & Other Such AU’s

◾ O Bury Me Not by @babbushka | 75k | Armitage Hux has only ever had one dream: ruling the oceans with an iron fist. As Admiral of the British Royal Navy, he thought he was on top of the world, but it only takes a run-in with a handsome and ferocious pirate to show him there's so much more to be conquered, if he's willing to leave his life behind.

◾ Vive l'Empereur by @heresetrash | 6.5k | Emperor Hux is gravely injured in an assassination attempt, and only survives thanks to Ren, the captain of his private knights.  When he recovers, the Emperor wants to reward Ren.

◾  The Vainglorious Journey by itspixiesthing & @nerdherderette | 31k | When Armitage Hux, the third Baron of Arkanis, finds himself penniless and near the end of his rope, he throws his name on the shortlist for Commander of the Royal Army. He never dreamt that he would be leaving his meeting with the King and Queen of Alderaan with an even bigger problem: handfasted to the impossibly gorgeous (but equally spoilt) heir-apparent, Prince Ben Solo. A The Taming of the Shrew AU.

◾ The Measure of Man by @courgette96 | 124k | After demonstrating his brilliance in the latest Military campaign, Major Armitage Hux of the Hussars ought to have been rewarded by the respect and admiration of England’s Upper Crust. Instead, he finds that blood and heritage are still the sole currency of value, and that his merit is worth very little in the face of the mediocre House his father has saddled him with.However, when he finds himself implicated in a covert plot to restore England to the past glory of its Imperialistic days, he sees the opportunity to satisfy his ambition and achieve the greatness he deserves. To reach the top of society, it is far easier to bring it down first.It would have been a straightforward plan, were it not for the intervention of one Lord Kylo Ren. All too soon, Hux finds himself swept away by an impossible man, the rise of appetites and affections he has long tried to bury within himself, and the discovery of a power that goes beyond what mere science might explain.

◾ Aberration by skydork (klismaphilia) | 2.3k | Victorian AU with medical kink, inspired by those physicians who offered clitoral massage as a cure for 'hysteria'. Lord Huxley is afflicted with melancholy after the failure of his Star-Killer experiment. The mysterious Doctor Ren provides a treatment programme based on fingertip stimulation of the prostate gland.

Modern AU (Disclaimer: I’m not much of a fan of this trope so I don’t read much of it so there isn’t much in this category, sorry!)

◾ Two Years, Two Months, and Twenty-Eight Days by @kyluxtrashcompactor& @nerdherderette & @pangolinpirate | 90k | It took less than twenty-four hours after they met to know that they were meant for each other. But it will take longer than that to get it right.

◾ what's real or isn't by @brawlite | 57.3k | Hux's new house is not haunted. It isn't.

◾ Reconditioning by @jinxedambitions | 173k | Ben Solo is one of the FBI's most promising young agents.   While he's had a few disciplinary hiccups, he's intelligent and not afraid to do what needs to be done.  His personal life is a mess, and he may not look like your typical federal agent, but he might be the only man for this job.  Ben's looking for a promotion and something like the glory his parents always talked about before he was born.The FBI is looking to take down one of the country's most elusive prostitution rings, specializing in the types of sex that Ben's boss has only read about in the novel his wife hides under the bed. Ben is going undercover as a "slave" in order to gather information on the ring's leaders, purchasing a premium package from the agency. 30 days as a slave to a professional Master, and a guaranteed sexual experience of a lifetime.  He gets chosen by Hux, or the General as he insists Ben call him, and he quickly realizes that no training could have prepared him for this experience. Every day, Ben, or Kylo as he is known at the club, finds out more and more about the organization, but the more he learns the less he wants to destroy them.      

◾ The Stars Above Us by @dreamykylux & @mi-caw-ber | 7.2k | Right after the battle in Starkiller forest, Kylo Ren is mysteriously ported from his universe to appear on Earth, in Hux's university campus park. Hux, an astronomy professor, is out jogging, when he suddenly spots someone in black robes, lying injured in the snow... Kylo think he recognises him, but Hux can't quite work out where he's seen this man before, and trying to help him turns out to be both more complex, and much more rewarding than he could have imagined...

◾ Love Bites So Deep by @obsessions-and-dreams & @pangolinpirate | 15.4k | Hux is a dedicated zoo director who loves his work but knows something is missing.Kylo is the passionate big cat's keeper who makes Hux's life more difficult at every turn.When the zoo's owner passes away and his will appoints Kylo his successor, life at the zoo becomes a whole lot more challenging. But the two have no choice but to work together, and in doing so discover they actually share a lot in common...

◾ Vivid Dreams by @amsare-saxon-picture-show | 3.2k | Armitage Hux doesn’t like his real life: he’s got a normal job and he hates his colleagues. But in his dreams, he’s known as General Hux, a cold and determined man, feared by his subordinates. Every night he gets to live another kind of life aboard his ship, the Finalizer, until one night he receives a strange message from Kylo Ren. And Kylo Ren doesn’t play by the rules of Hux’s dreams

◾ Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by @saltandrockets | 4.3k | For Armitage Hux, Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year. A florist, he creates beautiful flower arrangements to help romance bloom between other people—but his own love life is nonexistent. That changes when a needy customer starts calling the shop.

◾ Soul of Magic by @darktenshi17 & @epselion | 32.4k | Matt/Techie too | Armitage and Techie are twin witches living and running a business together. They're happy with how things are, until two big wrenches come crashing into their lives. Love wasn't in the long-term plan, but neither was having their father come back from the dead to try and such the magic out of their bodes and steal it for himself. Maybe having a pair of big strong men around isn't such a horrible thing.

◾ Wrong Number by @cosleia | 8.4k | Kylo Ren's cell phone number is two digits off from a phone sex line. This turns out to be a good thing.

Parents & Pregnant

◾ Lying Side by Side in Pieces by @ballvvasher | 14.5k | After failing to exterminate the Resistance, the newly appointed Supreme Leader makes it clear he doesn’t care for Hux’s well-being. Hux fears that Ren will demote him, or worse. There must be a way to ensure not only his self-preservation but his status within the Order, to bind Ren to him permanently, to make Ren need him more than he ever needed Snoke. An insane idea is born—to undergo a partial sex reassignment procedure in secret, and trick Ren into unknowingly impregnating him. He’ll play on Ren’s insecurities, use science and seduction to entrap Ren; to bolster control over him, down to his bloodline. And when he’s under his spell, Hux can finally slaughter him and take his place as Supreme Leader. At least, that’s the plan. Hux has only himself to blame when it all starts to crumble around him.

◾ a minor disaster at daybreak by @thethespacecoyote | 1.6k | One morning, Kylo finds his children trying to prepare a surprise for Hux.

◾ Progeny by @geishacomb | 64k | General Hux has not allowed the Supreme Leader back into his bed since the events of TLJ. But when he does, the consequences are far graver than either he or Ren could have ever imagined.

◾ Neogenesis by @claricechiarasorcha | 12k | In the days after Starkiller and Crait, Kylo Ren discovers that Armitage Hux has been keeping a secret. This is not going to go the way either of them might think.

◾ special delivery by @gonna-pop | 3.3k | Hux had not intended to be present for this messy process. Rather, he'd imagined returning after his shift and being handed a clean, swaddled baby. But there was nothing for it now.He rolled up his sleeves.

◾ Sunstroke by @ballvvasher | 33.8k | Supreme Leader Snoke gives Kylo Ren a mission to strengthen the Knights’ of Ren hold on the First Order. Set several years before the events of Episode VII. Story contains mpreg, medical torture, and sexual assault.

◾ Knocked Up by @agent-nemesis | 3.7k | "Are you ready?" Kylo asks Hux stupidly, realising the question is more directed at himself. Hux answers with a cry, and then his panic rises again. Kylo hunches over him, cocooning him protectively. "You can do this," he whispers. "I know you can do this." "I can't," Hux whimpers, shaking his head. "They're too big. I can't." "You're a general of the First Order," Kylo says softly in his ear. "The General. The strongest man I know. You can do this."

◾ Ethereal Balance by NylonRabbit | 4.2k | Hux becomes pregnant, and falls into a mysteriously ethereal Force induced state as a result. Kylo misses him. A lot.

◾ Children of War by @starryartemis | WIP | 76k | After a complicated diplomatic mission went awry, General Hux and Kylo Ren accidentally find themselves tasked with their most difficult mission: becoming parents.Despite their complex relationship, they both agree that raising an offspring will help bring glory to the First Order. Their original vision of a united family quickly falls apart as Hux and Ren cannot see eye to eye in what they want the future to hold.

◾ a welcome interruption by @thethespacecoyote | 1.7k | Emperor Hux is in the middle of important but increasingly trying trade negotiations, when one of his children decides to disrupt the tension.

◾ Egg Bound by @starkillersbae | 2.2k | Kylo Ren and Hux make time in their busy schedule of ruling the galaxy to play their favorite game. But when Hux gets called away on important business the eggs Kylo has been carrying remain inside for too long, leaving Hux to play midwife while Kylo labors.

◾ Helmet by @abboh | 1.4k | All Kylo wanted was his helmet back but where was it? it wasn't on his shelf nor countertop. Wait, Hux has it and what is he doing with their kid?

◾ the Evil Space Dads series by @bubbaknowlton | 300k | 82 works |

◾ Moonbroch by Irma7x | 46.5k | Supreme Leader Snoke request their subordinates to produce an heir and secure the legacy of the First Order--an heir, specifically engineered to bear the traits of the two commanders of the First Order, thus supplying Snoke with the perfect apprentice. Tensions arise as Kylo Ren and General Hux begin to doubt their loyalty to The Order as the possibility of bringing a child to their lives makes them doubt their previous motivations and longings.        

◾ A Fortunate Alpha by @paperprinc3 | 1.3k | Alpha Hux doesn’t really know what his husband Kylo sees in him. Even so he’s trying his best to be the best father he can and make his family happy. A revelation from Kylo might mess everything up though.

◾ Something More by @kyluxfichell | 5k | When Kylo Ren falls pregnant with Hux’s child, the two men begin to doubt their allegiance to the First Order. They flee together, desperate to prevent their child from becoming Snoke’s next weapon.

Smut & PWPs

◾ Who's Your Master? by @groffiction | 3.5k | Sub Kylo | Hux murmured softly, “You don’t need punishment tonight, Ren. You need rest.” “But, I want… I want this… need this,” Kylo protested weakly, reaching around to nuzzle at Hux’s boots.

◾ The Best by @kyluxtrashpit | 6.4k | Sub Kylo | Kylo goes to an ancient Sith temple in search of power, to find the secret to being the best and strongest in the galaxy. Instead, he's bestowed with a curse that seems more like a blessing than anything else: he's now the best in the galaxy at blowjobs. However, he quickly finds that it truly is more of a curse than it first seems - or is it?

◾ Driving Westward by @slutstiels | 8k | “You got a name?” The driver’s voice is deep. “Hux.” Hux winces. He had a plan, a fake name all picked out that would be unremarkable, but he’s so nervous it just slipped out before he had a chance. “What about you?” “Call me Kylo.” At least he can remember his dumb fake name.

◾ Fill The Void  by @magnetvrs | 2.1k | Where Hux was once hungry for power, for a taste of command, for the respect, for order and bloodshed, now there is only one kind of hunger burning low in his gut. Kylo Ren is his own kind of flavour - distinct and intoxicating.

◾ For Those Who Stop and Stare by @centurytwitch | 3.1k | Dopheld Mitaka thinks he knows General Hux. Using his office as his occasional breakroom allows him to do some lowkey snooping. Beneath the surface, the aspects not revealed by his desk or bookshelf, there is much to be learned.    

◾ Do Only As I Say by @the-garbage-chute | 3.1k | Power bottom Hux coaching virgin sub Ren step by step while they fuck. Hux has a belt around Ren's neck choking him and as he feels himself getting close Hux stops riding him almost all together making him beg, prolonging his orgasm.

◾ Subliminal by @kyluxtrashpit | 5.7k | At his wit's end with what to do with Ren as the new Supreme Leader, Hux finally has an idea: conditioning, by the same methods used in the Stormtrooper program, but with very different results. Ren isn't the only one who knows how to manipulate minds, after all.

◾ Too Cool to Care by @vadianna | 9.2k | Kylo Ren slights Hux in the bedroom, accusing him of being boring after Kylo is too tired to keep it up.  In retaliation, Hux invites him to an anonymous hotel room in Canto Bight and shows him just how imaginative he can be.  Kylo, not entirely sure Hux won't use the opportunity to eliminate his rival, agrees to everything Hux suggests.

◾Black Box by Asrael_Valtiri | 1.9k | Ren’s mouth fell open. He swallowed hard. He lifted the tool—no, toy—out of the box, placed a finger in the handle, and let it dangle, admiring the shine, the weight of the piece. It was very heavy for its size. It was cold but warmed up quickly against his skin.He needed it inside of him. Now.

◾ Be My Outlet by @kyluxtrashpit | 1k | Hux hates Kylo Ren, but he never turns down the opportunity to use Ren's body as an outlet for his frustrations with the man. Ren encourages it and some of their sessions are riskier than others.

◾ the littlest general by @thethespacecoyote | 5.4k | Something unexpected happens to Hux during an assassination attempt. Kylo deals with the aftermath.

◾  Ascension by @thesevioletdel1ghts | 6k |  Hux swallows. They both know the answer, it’s fairly evident with him already sitting on Ren’s lap. Of course, Ren wants him to say it out loud, wants Hux to debase himself even further and Hux hates him for it.   “I could—“ He clears his throat.   “Yes?”   “I could... ride you. Supreme Leader.”   Ren grins, toothy, infuriating. “If that is what you want.”

◾ Sleep It Off by @centurytwitch | 1.8k | Back pain has always been a problem in Hux's life. Medication never helps. Kylo knows the perfect way to help him through it.

◾ It shouldn't have A Name by @nonsensicalsoliloquy | 6k | Kylo’s jealous angry with his General and resolves to set aside an entire day to personally oversee his ‘punishment.’ The unspoken aftermath was as expected as it was disastrously not.

◾ Un autre amant by srawratskcuf (Doreen) | 5.6k | Undercover for a mission, Hux goes blond and Kylo goes wild.

◾ Pretty in Pink by Huxilicious, rmn_werefoxes | 2.5k | Sometimes Hux likes to dress up in pretty things and get fucked within an inch of his life. Kylo Ren is more than happy to oblige.        

◾ The Body Electric by @h-uxed | 4.2k |  Leaning close, his breath hot and his eyes devouring, the Knight purrs, “When I’m done with you, General,” He promises, his voice velvet soft, “You will never again question that you are mine.” Kylo takes the General’s virginity.

◾ A Chance at the Throne by cajynn | 2.6k | Hux and Kylo fuck on the throne, and Hux desperately wants the upper hand

◾ Never Enough by @samedifference61  | 3.3k | For the Kylux Hard Kink anon prompt: Hux or Kylo it doesn't matter who, edges the other so hard, they don't let the other come before he's a crying begging mess. They just like to make the other cry knowing that they're the cause of it Ren needs this (to end).

◾ That's the Way it Goes by Anonymous | 1.4k | Kylo decides that Hux's face is only worth sitting on.

◾ at the beginning of the world  by carnival_papers | 10k | Insecure about his body and his virginity, Kylo breaks down during his first time with Hux. Reminded of his own first time, Hux takes care of Kylo and helps him through it.  

Soulmates

◾ In this life and the next by Ggeri_Sminth | 4.9k | Kylo always remembers his past life; all of them leading him to one person his home. The only issue is that person never remembers their life, leaving Kylo to find him over and over again. Sometimes things don't always go as planned. 

◾ dream a little dream of me by @begforyourmercy | 4.8k | Kylo Ren loves his General - but only when he's asleep.

◾ Clearer Now by @ezlebe | 4.9k | “Well,” Hux snaps, turning on his heel when the silence becomes too much to bear.Ren stares back with oddly wide eyes, sopping hair plastered to his face. “Well?” “Where are the jokes?” Hux says, lifting his chin, feeling a tight frown settling across his lips. “My match the Jedi master, hero of the Clone Wars, Bane of Lord Vader, et cetera.” Ren opens his mouth, seemingly ready to fulfill expectation, then closes it with an exhale. He shrugs stiffly, rolling up the jumper hem in his hands and shoving it over his head in one swift movement.

◾ Matches and Flames by @katherine1753 | WIP | 47k | The names on people's wrists weren't just suggestions. They were fate. Destiny. So how could Hux be falling in love with someone who wasn't his Match?

◾ Hope is a waking dream by @minzimpression | 26.5k | After his mother’s funeral Hux sees the world through his soulmate’s eyes for the first time.

Enjoy! ✨

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

Choo choo, the Sickfic Express has just arrived in Galar, straight from Oreburgh City! 

First fic of 2020 is a sickfic oneshot. How rivetting. I've very recently beaten Pokémon Sword and loved it! I found myself really loving the characters, what they are and what they've already become in my mind, so I couldn't help myself but type what I know best... A sickfic. Also, this fandom needs more of this stuff, so here. I'm providing. Is this story OOC? Chances they are. Was it absolutely a blast to write? You bet. I'm probably gonna look back on it later down the lane and be uncomfortable with how I depicted the characters; but you do need to discover the characters first, and what better opportunity for that than a little sickfic with some angst and pre-rel dramatic tension? Anyway, I hope you'll like this lil' thing I busted out in literally a couple hours. I forgot how fun it was to write without worrying yourself over continuity or already established elements like in Earth Never Stops... Btw, this fic was originally requested to me as a FE3H fill for Hubert, so I decided I'd most likely use another square on my card for him. Sorry Nonnie for this, my inspiration got the best of me yet again! 

----------------

Candles in the Rain

Summary: Is feverishly staggering through the damp streets of Hammerlocke under the rain with very little hope to feel warmth again and even less sense of direction a fitting end for a former Champion now that he's been defeated once? Scratch that: he doesn't have the time or brain power remaining to process such a question. Or: Leon witnesses a miracle in the form of a little dog and a childhood friend.

Fandom: Pokémon Sword and Shield (post-canon/game: beware for spoilers) Relationships: Pre-relationship Leon/Sonia

Wordcount: 3.1K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo​

AO3 version available here.

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The streets of Hammerlocke are covered by a thick layer of rainwater, typical early winter in Galar. Nobody dares going against the terrible weather, which isn’t unlike the flooding that almost ate Kabu’s region of origin, or rather how he once described it based on bedtime stories, a couple thousand years ago. Honestly, after what Galar just went through, he can believe the tale to have been real all along, no issue there…

As always, he’s lost in the grand city of his main rival, and that frustrates him. He’s cold from the water having filled his shoes and wet his hair for hours and hours on end, not even the fire of the camp being able to make him feel warmer. If it wasn’t for his partners’ demands, urging him to stop camping in the wilderness and find a Centre already, he’d have surely stayed in the Wild Area and biked to a better spot. Ah, he misses Postwick, now. At least, he can’t get lost in Postwick, there’d be Hop and his now-Champion best friend, if not Sonia paying them all a visit, and there’d be the warmth of his childhood home… Gods, perhaps he does miss the peaceful life of a ten-year-old whose only contact to the Gym Challenge is dreams of grandeur.

Ah, if it didn’t rain so badly, Charizard could be warming the both of them as he tried to make his way to the nearest Centre.

 Despite his best efforts to remain proud and confident, he ends up having to lean against a wall to stop a coughing fit from suddenly urging itself out of there. He must look pathetic and he does wish, deep down, that someone would get out of their house for a reason or another, recognize him like literally everybody in Galar; but his pride and brand would be on the line, and nobody is fighting against the terrible, terrible weather today. He’s all alone in the streets of the city, pushing himself from the wall with wobbly arms, trying his hardest to remember where to go with slow, hazy thoughts…

Even if he was cold merely moments before, his head now burns. He feels too hot under clothes that are wildly unfitting of such a muddy season, despite the hair rising on what is exposed of his arms. A Cramorant stole his jacket when he was training, a Linoone tried to steal his stuff, and he ended up having a Pokemon knocked out and losing most of his healing items in the kerfuffle. It really hasn’t been his day, lately…

 His chest hurts. Not from the outside, as if he had injured himself in one of the falls he endured trying to feel from the Wild Area with no Pokemon to battle with and the slippery grass constantly trying to get the best of him, but from the inside. He doesn’t doubt the possible existence of bruises under the shirt that sticks to his limbs like a second, drenched skin; but this isn’t it. It intensifies when he coughs and it rattles strangely. When he tries to ignore the excruciating weather wishing for his demise, he hears the strange sounds his breathing now makes. He doesn’t know them so, in a moment of out-of-character lack of reason, he gets scared of them and vaguely wonders about worst-case scenarios.

It isn’t just his chest either. It’s his throat, it’s his mouth, it’s his feet, it’s his legs. Everything in his body is tired and screaming for rest, but he cannot provide it for any of his own self at the moment, stuck trying to navigate with what little he can distinguish with almost-closed eyes from how much he has to squint. His eyes can’t focus anymore, this much he realizes with a bitter sense of resignation, so everything he sees is blurry, including the weird gooey stuff he keeps coughing out whenever he can’t breathe anymore and has to stop for who knows how long.

 He trips over his own unmade shoe tie, losing in one fell swoop what was left of his balance, and falls right into the rainwater that has accumulated on the ground. It sounds and looks and feels like it’s the end, that this is where his journey ends: in some damp street of a city that he has never been able to find his way in, alone, cold and hot at the same time, rain burying him with the rest of the pavement. Not that he even thinks he has the energy to go on… Not like that. Not when his strength, the only thing he thought he had left, has all but given up on him too. Truly alone in a time where, sitting against a giant wall, he realizes what has been going on and poisoning his breath. Hah, ironic.

Still, this isn’t how he should admit defeat. He’s been won over now, and recently at that, and it’d be more than a shame for him to all but give up now. He needs to bring his team to the Centre, he can’t not try taking his revenge on the new Champion, he can’t not at least prove his superior battle skills to Raihan yet again, he just can’t leave Hop, and Sonia, and everyone else like that…

So he rises up once again, on weak arms and unsteady legs, almost tripping over himself, shoulder stuck against the wall. He won’t let this be the end of him.

 Even with a new resolve, it still doesn’t make it much better for him. Unless there’s a miracle happening right before him, he’s stuck with his heavily weakened state trying to find a place whose location he has no idea. His phone doesn’t seem to be able to show a map, its signal disturbed after whatever happened to it while he was looking or doing the polar opposite, so he’s stuck with his truly inefficient sense of orientation.

But it’ll be okay. It’ll have to be okay, because he needs to see Hop become a Professor, to buy Sonia’s new book, to rematch the Champion and his Leader friends, to give his team at least one more chance to shine. It’ll be okay, surely it’ll be okay, of course it’ll be okay… It’ll be okay, because this is all a terrible nightmare he’s going to wake up from, where he isn’t stuck in the torrential rain with a fainted party and very little hope of finding way out.

It’ll be okay, oh so okay…

 He tumbles and falls over again, this time hitting the ground with no grace whatsoever, most likely scratching elbows and knees in the process. Even rising his head up as not to cough in water when a fit claws at his throat again takes most of the energy he has left, only for his blurry sight and cottoned-down hearing to spot the first good thing in who knows many hours: a familiar yelp and vague brown-and-yellow figure rushing towards him.

With a trembling and feeble hand, he tries reaching out to the Yamper who has guided him so many times out of dangerous situations, only for an oh so familiar voice to yell in his direction. Still, it’s hard to know if it’s real or just his imagination. Ah, well; he’ll have to see when he’ll have woken up. If he even wakes up from the darkness starting to invade his vision…

  “Yamper, where in the world are you running like that?!” This creature never stops running, doesn’t it? “Yamper, wait for me!”

If she’s used to her trusty furry assistant running around everywhere it goes and pursuing it, Sonia has to notice there’s something odd in the air. Yamper never goes this fast, especially not in a city where it could smash muzzle first into people. There’s an urgent feeling to its yelps as it runs in one precise direction.

 As suddenly as Yamper started running when she had just gone out of the vault to investigate a little bit more into the Galar mythos she had become a specialist of, it stops right in its tracks in a little street she’s frankly never seen nor noticed before. With how much it’s raining and how unlikely it is to stop pouring soon, she doesn’t want the both of them out for much longer than needed.

She stops to regain her breath, hands on her knees as she folds in two, wet red hair hanging from her head. Yamper stays in place, running around her in circles, then disappearing from her view into the old, little street covered in rain and shadows. It doesn’t seem to have any intent on leaving soon.

 --------

“Why did you… bring me here…? Seriously, it’s raining Growlithes and Purrloins…!”

Still, Sonia gets herself together and goes on to follow her “assistant”. There’s dread building in her chest and stomach that she can hardly ignore… She’s seen enough movies as a teenager to know where this is going. She’s going to end up tangled into some messed-up situation, isn’t she…?

 Her heart skips a beat when she notices a very familiar person lying face down on the pavement, drenched to the bone. A person who hasn’t given her any response or sign of life for a few days.

Someone who’s gotten lost in Hammerlocke again.

 -------

 When he wakes up, everything feels different than the last time he’s been awake. It’s all white, dry and soft. He stills feels too hot and too cold, breathing remains a chore and he wishes he wasn’t there anyway; but he supposes he’s now safe and, honestly, he can’t think of anything much worse than treading through the torrential rain with little strength left.

Now, if he knew what the thing on his face was, he’d be doing a bit better, but his arms feel like they’re made out of lead and he lacks the energy to rise them to his mouth and at least touch it…

 “Leon?”

The voice, even if it’s muffled, is undoubtedly Sonia’s. He can’t quite put a finger on why exactly, yet he feels like this confirms something. If his chest didn’t feel so heavy and full, he’d have sighed in relief. That doesn’t prevent him from coughing again when trying to respond to his own name.

“Let me do the talking, okay? I’m sure you have a metric ton of questions to ask, but for the love of Galar, spare your voice unless necessary.”

 Now that his vision is focusing again, he notices both the pipe inserted in his wrist and the frown on her face. She seems less than content with something. What, he doesn’t quite know, and thinking hurts his head even further than it already bothers him, heavy on his neck despite resting on a pillow. Speaking of which, where is his stuff? His clothes?

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sonia rises from her chair and puts her hands on his chest, putting him back into his mattress. “You stay here and don’t cause anyone any worry more than you’ve already done!”

 He’s confused as to why she’s so adamant on him not doing anything. No speaking, no moving… If he didn’t feel this drained and lethargic, he’d absolutely get back at her with playfulness. Well, that does kind of answer his own question, doesn’t it? Or, at least, it seems to make sense to his brain which has troubles keeping up with the situation…

Yet, he sees a small smirk contrast with her frowned eyebrows. She seems… pained. Pained by what, or who, he doesn’t know; he’s most likely at least partially responsible for it, because she wouldn’t be there otherwise.

 “I don’t know how you’ve ended up in that situation exactly, Leon, but you’ve managed to surpass yourself in terms of putting yourself in harm’s way. You’ve scared us before, but not to that extent!”

“I…” His voice sounds hoarse and it absolutely feels that way. “It’s complicated…”

“Your entire party was fainted, safe for Charizard who was about to follow; you somehow bricked your phone in the process and ended up catching more than a death of cold. Where were you during all that time?!”

Sonia sounds a bit too scared for someone who’s facing her childhood friend stuck in a bed.

“The Wild Area…”

“That’d explain why you were soaked to the bone when I found you lying in a puddle… You’ll have to excuse me for using that crude language, you scared everyone on that one!”

 It’s his turn to ask a little question, even if the state of his body makes him want to remain quiet. Still, no matter how intelligent she is, Sonia doesn’t read minds, so he’s somewhat forced to go through with it if he wants his answers.

“Where are we?”

“A clinic in Hammerlocke. I forgot to add you also scared the ER staff with how bad your breathing was.” Has to be that irritating wheezing sound he’s hearing since he’s woken up. “By the way, since I know you’re going to ask me about that, your team is safe and doing much better now. They’re all gently resting in their balls while you recover.”

He misses Charizard and everyone else already. He owes them a big apology, that’s for sure, but he’s also certain his brain can’t process much right now. Sometimes, you just need to admit yourself to have been defeated… even if it bothers you to no end.

 Sonia paces around for a little bit before sitting down on the chair next to the bed, arms still crossed. She sounds more than frustrated, and, well… He can’t really hold it against her, can he? He already can barely hold anything against her to begin with, considering how much they’ve lived through together; it’s not today, in these circumstances, that he’ll try finding a reason for her not to be frustrated. Who knows how long he’s been gone without giving news: he frankly, forgot how quickly or slowly time was passing while he was wandering through the Wild Area.

“At least, you’re still here and breathing with us. Just, if you could not do that ever again, it’d be better, you know? I can’t always be there worrying after you when I’m now a Prof! Arceus, I don’t even imagine what sequence of events has thrown you into such a state. You looked absolutely pitiful when Yamper found you.”

 He tries to puff at himself to ease the tension he feels rising, but all he ends up doing is coughing. And coughing. And coughing.

“What did I say about sparing your voice? Tch, you’ll never change, will you? You’ve always stubborn, after all, so there’s no reason that’ll change now. That’s part of your charm, I suppose.” She shrugs before suddenly darting her eyes away from him. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t have to worry! You were the Champion of Galar for more than ten years, why would I be afraid of you? That makes very little sense, haha!”

“S-Sonia…”

 He only now spots the dark rings under her eyes and the hair pulling out of her ponytail, one strand at a time. How long was he out for, and for how much of that time was she there, exactly? (Hey, he does work fairly well, for someone who can’t stop sweating and whose entire frame is shaken up by chills at irregular intervals!). Too many questions, too little available brain space, he guesses…

“Go for it, make fun of your good old friend who still hasn’t gotten the memo. I should have been like Hop and blindly believed you’d come back to us, as you’ve always done…”

Oh, right, Hop! How is he doing, has he advanced in his research, does he still worry for him? Well, sadly, it’s not the time to think about his brother: his childhood friend seems to have a meltdown right in front of him.

“Why?”

 Sonia stares at him, completely silent, eyes wide. Seems like she doesn’t have an answer to her own interrogation, until pain comes back on her face like the wave crashing on the shore.

“You don’t… think it’s ridiculous?”

“What?” His throat doesn’t take kindly to his attempts at having a conversation.

“Everything! We swore we’d trust each other, but look at me, worrying over you as if we were still kids running in the fields with the Wooloos… And I’m telling you all that while you’re cooking on the inside! Really, isn’t that ridiculous?”

 Gathering his breath and his strength, he rises up with shaky arms against the bedhead, pillow still preventing his head from entirely lulling over his shoulder from how heavy it is. Whatever he’s caught, it’s one hell of an affliction he’s found himself with. Still, if it’s for Sonia, if she’s this distraught over the situation (he did almost pass away), he can put up with the migraine, the difficult breathing, the mask over his mouth, the lethargy, the chills…

“I’m sorry, Sonia.”

He does cough immediately after apologizing, as expected. For once, she doesn’t reply immediately, doesn’t make a witty remark; instead, she looks confused and maybe embarrassed, considering the red he can see with the eyes that still refuse to entirely focus for more than a few seconds.

“Sorry for what? And, again, spare your voice, you…”

“For all of this.”

 Her expression softens, eyebrows drooping and eyes shining brighter. Even if it’s slight and his eyes almost miss it, she finally smiles.

“How long…?” He’s interrupted by a fit.

“How long you’ve been out?” He nods, still trying to calm his chest down. “Around half a day. You did wake up at some point but immediately passed out again. No wonder why you don’t remember that.”

He now points at her with an unsteady finger. “Why are you… Oh, how long I’ve been here?” He nods again. “Most of that time, I’d say. I’d also say I fell asleep at some point too…”

 She crosses her arms again, just as his vision starts weakening again. It’s back to sleep, right?

“I think we both need our rest. I’m also certain Hop is waiting at the door, so you’ll even have a guardian angel watching over you, isn’t that super cool? And if you attempt rising from that bed, you’re sure to be put back into it in mere seconds!”

He’d try laughing if it didn’t trigger such a massive reaction from his lungs, so he decides to just nod instead.

“See you later, Leon. Goodnight.”

He waves at her, the lethargy still reflecting in his slow and sloppy gestures, but that’s fine enough for now. Her smile is worth it, isn’t it?

 Absolutely worth trekking through the rain with full lungs and little energy left…

[vcepsis]

Question: If you're taking yoi prompts, have you ever written/would you consider writing a sick Otabek? Figured you like him a lot since he's your icon. Plus it's always refreshing to have sickfic content for characters other than the mains.

Hey thanks so much for the prompt! I do love him, he is my precious son. I’ve never thought about an Otabek sickfic but I decided to try it! I find Otabek’s character a bit hard to pin down but I hope I did him justice.

Also, there’s a bit of Otayuri in this. I know a lot of people have mixed feelings about Otayuri; for me, I don’t have a strong preference about whether or not they’re romantic or platonic. So I did write about Yurio here, but really you can read it however you want (I kept it pretty open to interpretation I think). There is no Yurio whump here though (I doubt I could ever write whump for him, lol).

Just over 2k. Enjoy!

Otabek’s alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. Approximately two hoursafter he had finally gone to bed.

Normally, Otabek was smarter than that. When he got offersto DJ at a club on a weekday, during training season, he always turned it down(it didn’t stop people from asking, though; apparently he had quite thereputation). Why would people want a DJ for a Tuesday night, anyway? It seemedthe party  in Almaty never slept.

Lately, however, everything had been going wrong. He hadbeen falling on his jumps in practice more often than not, to the point wherehis coach was growing concerned. His short program for the coming season wasnearing competition, but his free skate was still a complete mess. Thechoreography refused to work, no matter how many times he reordered things. Itlooked like he was going to have to scrap it altogether.

Plus, he woke up a few days before with his throat feelinglike sandpaper. It sent a wave of dread through him. This was not what he needed right now.

So when a friend had reached out about playing at a club,Otabek threw caution to the wind and said yes. Nothing else was working, butmaybe a successful show would finally knock his head back into place.

For the most part, it did. He was able to forget all about triple axels and quad salchows and getting sick in the middle of trainingseason quite well with the bass pounding in his chest and the free alcohol(despite the fact that he was underage, but really, nobody cared if the DJbroke a law or two, as long as the party didn’t stop).

Of course, that had been a mere three hours ago. He had managedto get a little bit of sleep to avoid another all-nighter before practice(hiscoach had threatened him in many colourful ways the first time he tried that) but he certainly hadn’t done hisbody any favours.

His alarm was still ringing in his ears, exacerbating theheadache that hadn’t quite faded. Sitting up slowly, he put a hand to his headas the room started to spin. Am I stilldrunk?

No, he hadn’t had enough to be hungover. He may have been anidiot by going out, but he wasn’t that dumb.

Sighing, Otabek rubbed his throbbing temples. The time onhis phone said 6:10. He didn’t need to be at the rink until 8. Surely he couldsleep a little longer, at least to get rid of this headache. He decided to liedown and close his eyes for another half hour or so.

Not two minutes later, it seemed, his phone started to ring.Groaning, he pulled it off his bedside table. It was his coach. He frowned abit, but answered.

“Where areyou??” Came the annoyed voice on the phone.

“What—” Otabek took the phone away from his ear longenough to see the time: 9:28 a.m.

Shit.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” Otabek said earnestly, wincing whenhis voice came out more like a hoarse whisper than a heartfelt apology. Hetried clearing his throat. It didn’t help. “I’ll be there in—”

“Were you outlast night?”

This stopped Otabek in his tracks.

Shiiiiit.

“I only meant to sleep a little longer,” Otabeksaid, trying not to sound like a pleading child. “I’ll make up for ittoday, I’ll stay late, I’ll pay you double for the day—”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. “Hang on, just stop for a second.” Thevoice was much gentler now. ”I knowyou’ve been frustrated lately, but I wish you would ask for help rather thantaking your frustrations out on cheap alcohol and loud music.“

Shame turned Otabek’s cheeks red.

”I’ll meet youhere at 10, and we’ll have a short day. Do not worry about fees. I just want tohelp you.“

Swallowing the fire in his throat, he agreed.

~~~~

Otabek woke the next morning feeling, somehow, even worsethan the day before. His sore throat had evolved into  a grating cough which no amount of water woulddispel, and his head pounded so hard it felt like a bass drum.

His second alarm went off at 6:30 (after yesterday’s fiasco,he set four alarms to make sure he got up on time). With a groan, he switchedit off and dragged himself to the shower. When he finally arrived at the rink,his coach took in his pale complexion and weak voice with a raised eyebrow, butsaid nothing.

Practice was even more grueling than normal: Otabek feltcompletely drained by the end. His body had a heavy, groggy feeling that madeit hard to concentrate, and he was blowing his nose twice as much as normal.

Usually Otabek waspretty hardy when it came to illness, but his frustration at everything hadgotten the better of him, and he was ignoring his body screaming at him to slow down! Even now, when he had to stopmidway through his routine to cover his awful sounding coughs again, he refused to take it easy.

Distantly, he heard his coach sigh.  "I thought you were hungover yesterday,but it seems you’re not well.”

Otabek stiffened at the accusation. So he wasn’t feelingwell. So he could barely breathe without coughing and the room was beginning tospin. It was nothing. He could pushthrough.

A hand appeared in Otabek’s vision, cool on his forehead.His coach tsked. Otabek just shook itoff, scowling. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are. Now go home.”

Otabek opened his mouth to protest some more, but he wasswiftly cut off. “No, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve been a mess latelyand now you’re neglecting your health. Go home, get some rest, and come backwhen you’re better.”

Obviously Otabek didn’t look convinced, because his coachcontinued, “Or you can stay here, work yourself into the ground, and getnowhere. While infecting everyone around you. Is that what you want?”

Otabek blinked, shocked. He had been doing his best to stayaway from his rink mates and cover his mouth, but what if it wasn’t enough? Heput a hand to his forehead, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

His coach sighed again. “No, I’m sorry. That was toofar.” Otabek felt the weight of his coach’s hand on his back. “I knownothing seems to be working out, but this is not the solution. You need to takecare of yourself. So go home, get some rest, and we’ll start again when you’rehealthy.”

Otabek hesitated for a moment, but nodded in the end.

It turns out his coach’s advice was sound, as he barely hadthe energy to walk back to his apartment. Dragging himself through the door andtrudging to his room, he barely had the energy to change out of his practiceclothes before collapsing into bed and promptly passing out.

His phone, however, had other ideas.

The shrill sound of his ringtone cut through his fitfulsleep, and he groaned as the pain behind his eyes spiked anew. Turning towardhis nightstand, his phone told him two things: that it had only been a fewhours since he got home, and that Yuri Plisetsky was calling.

Ah, shit. In hishalf asleep state, he had completely forgot about his agreement to have a chatwith Yuri tonight. Sighing at his own incompetence, he hit the answer button. “Hey, Yuri.”

“Whoa, you soundwrecked,” came the greeting from the other end. “Were you out last night or something?”

Why did everyone assume that because he was a DJ, he waspartying every night?

Well….he was outa few days ago. Bitterly, he supposed it was a fair assumption after all.

“No,”Otabek replied. He held the phone away from his face as he coughed harshly.“Just a bit sick.”

“Oh,”Yuri said, sounding a bit surprised. “Areyou….uh, are you ok?”

Otabek couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Yuri’s somewhatfretful tone, which turned into another wet sounding cough. “I’ll be fine.It sounds worse than it is.”

“Yeah.”Yuri sounded unsure. “Did you, like,take your temperature or anything?”

Huh, that actually wasn’t a bad idea. “Not yet,”Otabek said, “I passed out as soon as I got home from practice.”

“Shit, did I wakeyou up?” Yuri sounded upset. ”Ishould have texted you first, ugh.“

“No, no, it’s ok,” Otabek said, rubbing his tiredeyes and sitting up in bed. “I should have let you know I was going to bedearly.” It seemed everything really was going wrong. He couldn’t even be ahalf decent friend.

“It’s ok,”Yuri said.

Otabek pushed the covers back and stood, blinking rapidlywhen black spots appeared in his vision. There was silence on the phone for amoment while he tried to get his bearings, and he stumbled a bit on the way tothe bathroom. Now that he was up and moving, he desperately wanted to blow hisnose, but didn’t want Yuri to hear (and be any more grossed out than heprobably already was), so he resorted to sniffling as quietly as he could.

He didn’t want Yuri to have to wait in awkward silence whilehe looked for his thermometer (when was the last time he even used the damnthing?). Clearing his throat—wincing at the raw feeling there—he asked,“How is training going?”

This, predictably, sent Yuri into a spiraling rant about “Victor goddamn Nikiforov thinks he’sSO GREAT and that PIG worships the ground he walks on it’s absolutely pathetic—”which allowed Otabek to dig through his bathroom cabinets. Despite Yuri’s angrytone, Otabek knew he didn’t actuallymind that much. Having Katsuki around was good for him, Otabek knew, from themultitude of texts he got about how well practice was going. Otabek hadn’tknown him long, but he knew that Yuri secretly looked up to Katsuki, and thathe maybe even enjoyed the sudden burst of activity Katsuki ended up bringing tothe St. Petersburg rink.

About halfway through Yuri’s colourful rendition of howVictor was an absolute prick, Otabek finally found his thermometer. Washing itoff quickly, he stuck it in his mouth just as Yuri was asking, “Can you believe the shit I have to dealwith?!”

Otabek couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “Soundsterrible,” he said, the words a bit muffled by the thermometer. It beepedsoon after, the sound louder than he anticipated.

“Was that yourthermometer?” Yuri asked.

"Yeah,” Otabek replied, looking at the numbers.101. He couldn’t help the frustrated noise that escaped him.

Yuri was silent for a moment. “Is it….bad?”

“No,” Otabek said honestly. It wasn’t that bad,but his fevers always tended to stick around longer than his other symptoms. Itjust meant more time away from the rink.

“Well….”Yuri started, a bit unsure. “This isgonna sound dumb, so like, don’t listen to me if it’s stupid or whatever—”

“What is it?” Otabek asked, rubbing his nose withhis palm, sniffling quietly.

“You’veseemed….frustrated, lately,” Yuri said tentatively. “Like…you’ve been doing too much. Pushingyourself too hard. That’s probably why you got sick. Maybe…..this time awaywill help?”

Otabek was silent for a moment. He thought he hadn’t beencomplaining to Yuri that much, that he’d been pushing his concerns far enoughaway that no one else would notice. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Because Yurinoticed.

Wait. Was Yuri….worried about him?

A sigh came through the phone. ”That was stupid, I know, just forget about it.“

"No, no,” Otabek said. “You’re….probablyright, actually. I have beenfrustrated. I might just need some time. Clear my head.” At this, hisbreath began to hitch, and he pulled the phone away to sneeze twice into hiselbow.

Yuri sighed a bit. “Yousound like shit. Go back to bed, dude. I can call you when you’re better.”

“Yeah,” Otabek replied, wincing at the evenrougher sound of his voice.

“And…..text me.When you wake up. Let me know you’re still alive.”

Otabek huffed a small laugh. “I will.”

They hung up, and Otabek finally got to blow his nose. SoYuri wanted him to text when he woke up….maybe he was worried after all.Otabek felt a bit bad for worrying him.

But also, it was kind of nice that someone cared.

He trudged back to his bed, making a quick note on his phoneto buy some cold meds the next day. As he was finishing, a message from Yuricame up: it was a cat meme, with no context, of course. Was he trying to makeOtabek feel better?

Otabek smiled at the thought. Sending a quick“LOL” to Yuri, he put his phone down, crawled back under the covers,and was out within minutes.

[reivenesque]

Chicken Soup for the Soul (Chriseva, Sickfic)

A/N - I have a billion and one fics to write – including by not limited to the Cindereva fic, which I am working on, I haven’t and will not abandon that story, rest assured. 

But it has come to my very disappointed attention that there are now more fics for the-ship-that-must-not-be-named than there are Chriseva fics on ao3 although lets be real, in 99 percent of those fics, that ship is being tagged as a background couple in an Evak fic, c’mon now – and I thought, this just won’t do damnit.

[ao3]

Utter crap.

That was an appropriate way to describe how Eva felt right then. Her nose was stuffy and her throat felt like she’d swallowed a bowl of steaming hot soup, but the steaming hot soup was actually molten lava disguised as steaming hot soup cause that’s what it felt like every time she took a sip of water or even just swallowed air. Her head was pounding, her ears were ringing and she felt too exhausted to decide whether she was too cold and needed the blanket or too hot and she just wanted to lie splayed out on the mattress in just her underwear.

She’d just messaged Noora to tell her that she didn’t have to rush over, that she’d be fine by herself until school let out. Plus she knew Noora was seriously testing her attendance record what with her skipping school to go rendezvous with William after they made up during Eva’s party.

The rest of the girls had messaged her as well when they noticed that she wasn’t in school and Eva couldn’t hide the fond, warm feeling that came over her when she realized just how much they cared. It wasn’t that she didn’t know it already, they were friends after all, but there was just something heartwarming in knowing that your presence mattered that much to another person. It wasn’t a feeling that Eva was used to, or at least it was a feeling of isolation and insignificance that Eva had grown used to.

Her mom was away at work, which really wasn’t surprising and Eva knew that if she called her mom to tell her that she was sick, that she’d probably come home to take care of her, but Eva didn’t want to trouble her that way, after all she wasn’t a child anymore and she’d grown used to taking care of herself. She would just power through the way she always did, although in that moment she wasn’t sure whether the knock at her window was indeed something occurring in real life or just a figment of her fever frazzled mind.

“Go’way,” she moaned at her hallucination, hoping it would get the hint and just leave her to wallow pathetically in her own gross perspiration, doing a near perfect impersonation of an angry drenched cat.

She must have dozed off after exerting the exhaustive effort into shooing whatever or whoever it was away, because the next thing she realized the gutter window over her bed was open and there was the sound of pots and pans clattering and the footsteps of someone shuffling around in her kitchen upstairs.

The thought that a burglar had somehow creeped into her house through her window while she was sleeping made the small hairs on Eva’s arm stand on end and the rational part of her brain said that she should maybe call the cops, or her mom, or Noora – someone. But the much more predominant, irrational part of her brain was thinking that there wasn’t anything upstairs that couldn’t be replaced, she just hoped the burglar would just keep it down because the incessant shuffling around was making her pounding headache turn into a thundering headache.

Eva thought she must have either dozed off again or her headache actually managed to knock her unconscious because the next thing she realized, her room was overwhelmed by the smell of chicken soup that only made her already chronic feeling of nausea double in intensity and there was a person standing at the foot of her bed.

“You look terrible,” said the voice and it managed to rip a disgruntled groan from Eva’s throat. Of all the people in the world she didn’t want to have seeing her looking like a soggy bag of hair, he was the absolute top of that list.

“Go’away, Chris,” she moaned, turning around grumpily and pulling the blanket up over her head, hiding herself from view.

That lasted all of ten seconds because all of a sudden, it was like she’d opened a portal into hell because that’s how it felt being completely submerged under her blanket.

She flung it off her and crawled out into the open air pathetically, not even caring what sight Chris was going to see once she emerged. But Chris wasn’t at the foot of her bed anymore. She released a sigh of relief, but there was a small part of her that felt strangely disappointed by his absence.

But her disappointment lasted only about a minute because Chris returned from wherever he’d disappeared off to, this time with a small towel flung over his shoulder and a bowl of water cradled in his hands.

“You should have called, Eva,” he said.

Eva wasn’t looking at him, burrowing her shame and her face reddened by the fever in her sweat soaked pillow. She felt the mattress dip slightly and a cool hand reaching over to brush her disheveled hair out of her face, combing it to the side and over one shoulder, allowing the cool hair to hit the back of her neck. Eva nearly let out a moan because of how good that felt.

“Didn’t want to bother anyone,” she said, peering out from between the crook of her arm to stare at him with one eye. “‘Sides… you might have been with your new girlfriend,” she said teasingly, though it held a note of bitterness that obviously came through to Chris.

“Yeah…” he said, a small regretful smile tugging at his lips, “Not my finest moment. Though, you and that curly hipster looked a bit too cozy for two people who were just friends,” he said and this time it was Eva’s turn to pretend to find the headboard of her bed a lot more interesting that it really was.

“I was coming down with something,” she said, “I wasn’t in my right mind.”

Chris chuckled at that. “Sure, Eva.”

“Guess we’re just not cut out for this boyfriend-girlfriend thing,” she said. It was just fact, but it didn’t help the tinge of sadness she couldn’t help creeping into her voice.

Chris was silent for a while which made Eva think that he’d left. She turned her face to look at him and found him already staring right at her.

“You know, I was actually thinking about that,” he said with a small, sly grin, “Boyfriend and girlfriends – it’s just such an overrated term.”

“Uh – okay?” said Eva bewildered. Her brows slightly furrowed.

“Hear me out, Eva. Imagine this,” he said, having put aside the cloth and the bowl and his hands making a rainbow shape in the air in front of him as he said; “Soulmates.”

“Wh – What now?” spluttered Eva. “Are you drunk, Chris?”

“I’m serious. The girlfriend thing didn’t work out cause… well – ‘cause it didn’t for reasons absolutely beyond our control, and yet here we are, where we always seem to find ourselves. You and me. Chris and Eva. You: disheveled and half-dressed and me: looking impeccable as always,” he said with a grin, quickly ducking out of the way of the pillow Eva had just flung at his head, “I mean… it’s fate, plain and simple.”

“If by fate you mean it’s you just being a nuisance, then I completely agree. Speaking of which, how did you know I was sick anyway?”

“Noora told William,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “And William messaged me: ‘Your girlfriend’s home sick. Go take her soup, dickhead.’ – I might be paraphrasing there, or I might not be,” he said, clicking his tongue.

Eva didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or laugh. She opted for neither because all of a sudden the room started spinning again and any sudden movement might cause her to projectile vomit the food she didn’t eat that day all over Chris. That was an appealing thought though. But she just groaned and buried her face in her pillow.

The cool hand rubbing circular motions on her back felt heavenly and helped ease the nausea and the taste of bile that had risen up to her throat. She hoped it would never stop.

“Better?” Chris’s voice asked and Eva could only nod through her pathetic moaning.

She felt him shuffling around on the mattress beside her; his hand didn’t stop massaging her back even when she felt him rising up from the bed and when he finally eased himself into reclining position beside her; only stopping to switch hands.

Eva dared a peek through the room still felt like it was on some sort of slow motion roller coaster but the sight of Chris smiling down at her made her feel a little less shitty that she did a minute before. When the spinning slowed down enough, Eva reached over, extending an arm across Chris’s stomach and pulling her sweat soaked, repulsive self to rest on his torso, the coolness of his chest was like a balm on her own burning skin.

“Sorry for getting you all gross,” she muttered, closing her eyes to absorb the comforting feeling of Chris’s presence beside her.

“I accept you and all your grossness,” he said and that elicited a soft chuckle from her. His hand was combing through her hair, brushing it back from her forehead and the other continuing to massage her back comfortingly. “Just sleep, Eva,” he said.

And Eva did just that.

She didn’t know how long she slept, but she woke up confused and disorientated after what felt like years, but her cheek was still plastered on Chris’s strong cool chest and his fingers were still carding through her hair; the only difference was that the sky outside her window was now dark and her room smelled like more than one variety of chicken soup. At least the smell didn’t make her sick like it did earlier.

“You friends came by,” said Chris when he noticed her stirring in his arms.

Eva adjusted herself so that she was resting on his shoulder and was able to look up and meet his eyes. “They did?”

“Yeah, and they brought soup,” he motioned to her side table by the wall and indeed, sitting stacked one on top of the other, were four different plastic containers filled with four different kinds of chicken soup.

Eva felt a warm tingling feeling blossom inside her gut and it had nothing to do with the soup.

“What did they say?” she asked, looking back up at Chris.

“Not much, they didn’t want to wake you. Instead they said that they’ll come over tomorrow to see you and to get well soon. Also to call them in case you need anything,” he said. “And Chris said to tell you that having lots of sex is a proven cure for the flu.”

That part made Eva laugh out loud.  “Which Chris actually said that bit?” she asked.

Chris grinned one of his Cheshire cat grins. “Depends on whether it would provoke a loving tap or a smack in the teeth.”

“Get back to me on that tomorrow,” she said, curling deeper into his embrace, “And don’t even think of going anywhere tonight.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said.

Eva had the best sleep that she’d had in years that night.

The end.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Can you write a Spider-Man sickfic where peter wakes up in the middle of the night whenever he's staying at the Stark Tower and he's woken with a really upset stomach and he feels so nauseous he's scared to move and he accidentally ends up throwing up all over the floor and leading to the bathroom of captain americas room that he happened to be staying in while he was gone and once he feels a little better after puking everything up he goes to Tony's room & is crying because he feels really sick

(HEAVY EMETO WARNING. DONT READ IF ITS NOT FOR YOU!!! This one is a little shorter because I think a shorter length is more appropriate for the fic!! :D)

When Tony agreed to take Peter for a week, he wasn’t really expecting to be agreeing to what was essentially a “Father for a Week, and maybe more” contract.

It was his own doing really, and Tony certainly didn’t hate being Peter’s faux father for a week, but it wasn’t exactly what he was expecting when he organised a week holiday to Barbados for Aunt May and her best friend following Mother’s Day. He was very glad to have organised it, Aunt May was a remarkable and inspirational woman who Peter spoke highly of and cared for very deeply, and she more than anything deserved this. He had given Peter a budget, despite Peter’s bashful refusal to start, and the holiday was planned. If anything, it helped Peter out with his budgeting skills he could potentially use in the future.

Aunt May had been extremely moved and delighted, over the moon and close to tears. She had felt so unbelievably loved and touched by this grandiose gesture, and was so humbled by the action. She tried to refuse, not wanting to accept such a gift, but Peter and Tony convinced her into it. She eventually obliged, but was still at a crossroads as what to do with Peter.

Tony had brushed off her suggestions of getting a relative or asking the Leeds to let Peter stay as a favour (“and no, Peter, I am not letting you be alone for a week, absolutely not”) and offered to let Peter stay over at Stark Tower for the mean time. He was more than happy to let Peter stay. He was a bubbly and optimistic presence that brightened his day, and gave him more motivation to work.

And for the most part, they had had a pretty amazing few days to begin with. Peter learned a lot from Tony’s work, and acquired new skills and knowledge, Tony felt a lot less anxious with such a ray of sunshine helping him out, and they had great chemistry. They were a good team. They watched movies from Tony’s time Peter had missed out on, and played Peter’s favourite video games. They had midnight snacks, and all around, it was a great time.

Until 3 am in the early hours of Friday.

Peter doesn’t know how it happened, but everything went downhill really fast. Like some rapid landslide that came tumbling down at record speed and coming to fuck him over and crush him to death.

He’d felt a little off throughout the day. He’d get sudden waves of slight nausea he got over pretty quickly. He’d get flashes of bright light that’d leave him feeling faint and stumbling slightly, and little gashes of pain every so often in his head. He’d feel a little queasy, stomach unable to digest as much as he usually did (Peter ate a lot, and this was in a way concerning.)

Peter had felt so tired and oddly down that he decided to head off to bed early, at around 10 pm. It was an abnormally early time for him. He went to bed usually in the early morning hours, and so did Tony. They had hung out together and watched movie until about 2 pm, and Tony was slightly concerned.

He brushed it off with the conclusion he must be having an off day, and that the exhaustion from the recent past had just caught up to him. Tony could only smile softly and give him a little hair ruffle and offer him Steve’s usual room, hoping that staying in the hero he looked up to and admired’s room would lift up his spirits a little bit. Plus, the bed was of a better quality anyway (for an old man, Tony would say, much to Steve and Bucky’s annoyance) and it was certainly much bigger. The room had a few more features that Peter could use, and perhaps was a much needed change in atmosphere.

That made Peter a little happier at least, and put his troubled mind at ease. He took the offer gratefully and went straight to bed. The moment his head fell against the heavenly soft, crisp pillow and he pulled the luxurious duvet over him, he was lulled into a sleep that he desperately needed.

It was pretty peaceful, for the most part, but suddenly in the early hours of that day, Peter fell into a weird fever dream state. He’d wake up feeling delirious and confused about his surroundings, unable to tell his dreams from true. Everything seemed to be warped in an extremely trippy way. The world seemed to tilt uncomfortably and he’d feel a little queasy, like he was on some boat constantly being rocked by strong currents.

His stomach would lurch uncomfortably and swirl around, and he’d feel unbelievably nauseous. He’d feel horribly weightless, that sickening sinking feeling he’d get on a rollercoaster that made him feel scarily out of control.

Peter curled up in on himself and hugged his stomach to try and soothe the nauseating feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging his body to allow him to fall back asleep but the sickly sensation was far too much. He gagged, cringing at the liquid that burned at his throat.

But he felt far too exhausted and drained to stand up and run to the bathroom, and while Peter was a pretty logical person who relied on his smarts to survive, every inch of his nauseated body was telling him to go against his very being’s natural instinct.

But suddenly his stomach cramped horribly, causing him to gasp and gag, and Peter tried so hard to close his mouth as quickly as possible, but to no avail.

Peter leaned over the bed and sick poured out of his mouth and trickled onto the floor. Peter clamped his hands against his mouth to try and nip this horrifying situation in the bud, but another round of nausea surged through his body as more sick spilled out of him and onto the floor. Peter was frozen in horror and shame at what had just happened, as if  time had just ceased to exist.

He felt unbelievably lost and in shock, but thankfully he regained control of his senses and managed to yank himself off of bed and run towards the bathroom. More sick could only trickle down onto the floor, leaving a horrible trail behind him as he burst into Steve’s en suite.

Peter shuddered at the cold marble floor against his feet and gasped, and only succeeded in forcing more liquid up his throat. Peter slid against the smooth floor and fell onto his knees, hunched over the toilet and immediately began to retch.

He clung shakily onto the toilet sides as he continued to heave and throw up, his entire frame racked with intense shakes. He wasn’t seizing, but it definitely looked like he was. He felt so unbelievably out of control and unstable, as he continued to puke all contents of his stomach. He whimpered as the bile burned painfully at his throat, his stomach cramping up with pain as he continued to retch.

Peter’s hands crept over to his stomach to try and soothe it as it continued to contract and empty itself out roughly. Finally, Peter finished, and he was sincerely hoping for that sense of relief and clarity to his system after, but he was greeted by a rude awakening in knowing it didn’t happen.

Peter just felt worse afterwards, and fell back against the wall as he whimpered. His bottom lip quivered with shame and misery, squeezing his eyes shut as Tara pricked at his eyes. He brought his knees up to his face and buried it there, hoping to find some sort of sense of composure or calm, but he couldn’t find it. All he could hear was his racing heart and the wave of anxiety hammering onto his heart and screaming at him.

Peter breathed in heavily, the pace of his breathing quickening into a rapid, short and shallow rhythm. He wasn’t getting enough oxygen into his system and his body was panicking. He shook tremendously, his whimpers becoming louder, and eventually tears started to fall from his eyes. He started to sob, and everything seemed to get louder and louder until he reached a moment of serenity.

Then he bounced up and ran out of the bathroom and sprinted towards Tony’s room. He burst through the door and started to sob again.

Tony woke up with a jerk, springing upwards into a sitting position. He looked  around wildly as he tried to assess his surroundings, and when he locked eyes with Peter a sense of protectiveness washed over him.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” He asked in concern, pushing the covers off and coaxing Peter towards him.

There was so much Peter wanted to say, and it was all too overwhelming so all he could do was burst into a fresh batch of tears again and slide down the wall in misery and shame. He fell back into his head in knees position and cried hard, sobbing out nearly incoherent “I’m sorrys”.

Tony widened his eyes in alarm and slid off of his bed and kneeled down to Peter.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“I threw up everywhere and I ruined Captain America’s room and i feel so sick and miserable and I hate it I hate it all so much,” He sobbed.

Tony sighed softly, softly holding his shoulders, as if to steady him, “Hey, kid, that’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry, it’s okay if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter cried, as he came closer to burry his head into Tony’s chest and continued to sob.

“I’m such a burden on you, I’m so sorry, we were meant to have fun but I ruined it! I was supposed to be a good faux son, and now I just..I’m so sorry..” Peter continued to sob, his voice muffled by the fabric of Tony’s t-shirt.

“No you’re not, Pete. Faux father, right? And fathers stick with their sons through thick or thin. I’m going to take care of you, and make you feel better,” He promised gently, pulling him in for a hug and rubbing his back fondly, ruffling his hair as he did so.

“I’m so sorry you had to do this, I’m so sorry,” Peter sobbed again.

“Jesus, kid, we’re banning ‘sorry’ from your vocabulary, okay? But I wanted to do this. I want this, I want to be here for you. It’s okay. You deserve it. You need it,” Tony reassures.

“I need it,” Tony confirms, and with Peter by his side, no matter how sick, somehow he feels a little more whole. Like some emptiness he didn’t even realise was there now felt a little more whole. Yes, he was going to make this work.

It would be the start of something beautiful.

[suffering-matsu]

I am so excited about this blog! I'd like to request a motion sick Osomatsu traveling (via car, plane, train, boat, bus - doesn't matter) with at least one brother (choro or kara is preferable) trying to keep him from puking all over himself/the floor (they may or may not succeed). Thank you!! (@sick-bae)

I’m so sorry this took an incredibly long time to do!! I’m still nervous if I can write sickfics decently, so I really hope this is all right!

-Mod Ai

Warning: This fic contains graphic descriptions of vomit 

Read warning 

Read warning

Karamatsu always learned many new things about his eldest brother every day, even though he had lived with him for his entire life. Osomatsu liked this, disliked that, Karamatsu thought he knew everything.

He was being proved wrong in the most brutal of ways when he found himself trying to keep Osomatsu from throwing up inside a bathroom of the cruise ship the entire family had booked for a holiday.

Osomatsu had gone out of his way to convince Karamatsu that he wasn’t, in fact, getting seasick. Karamatsu, although he had his doubts, wanted to believe that Osomatsu wouldn’t throw up this time.

He should have known better. Halfway through the journey, which was about four hours, Osomatsu had gone uncharacteristically quiet. The rest of the brothers either couldn’t be bothered to deal with Osomatsu, or had gone away to enjoy their trip.

Osomatsu was hugging his knees, perched on a couch by the window. He had most likely thought that looking outside would make him feel better, but it didn’t seem to apply to cruises as it did to cars; if anything, Karamatsu noticed Osomatsu’s face becoming paler.

“Osomatsu-” “I’m fine, Karamatsu.” Osomatsu interjected, only further deepening Karamatsu’s suspicion. He didn’t look fine, contrary to his statement. The ship bobbed up and down mercilessly, further adding to Osomatsu’s discomfort.

Karamatsu debated on whether to take his brother to the bathroom. If, by some miracle, Osomatsu was able to feel better just by sitting down with his hands around his middle, Karamatsu would let him sit around.

However, a muffled hiccup from the elder brother proved that Karamatsu would have to take him away from the couch before it would be covered in vomit. “That’s it, Osomatsu. You’re going to the bathroom.”

Osomatsu looked absolutely mortified, to say the least. His hands were clamped tightly against his mouth, and his throat moving dangerously upwards indicated that he may not even make it as far as the bathrooms.

Karamatsu took Osomatsu’s arm firmly, practically dragging him away from where he sat. There was one thing Karamatsu was sure of, and that was the fact that he wasn’t paying for any cleaning bills.

The distance to the bathrooms seemed to be twice as long when Karamatsu was helping Osomatsu try to walk in a straight line towards it, especially when the ship rocked so much that even Karamatsu found himself struggling to stand still. On top of that, Osomatsu was leaning into him with almost his full weight.

“Almost there, Osomatsu. Can you hold on for a few more minutes?” Osomatsu could barely manage a nod, at this stage. His cheeks expanded once or twice throughout the ordeal of a trip, making Karamatsu’s heart jump in his chest.

Karamatsu finally reached the bathroom door, while Osomatsu scrambled to open it. A wave of relief washed over Karamatsu, which was extremely short-lived after the ship swayed, hard. That had been the last straw for Osomatsu’s stomach, which revolted against him mercilessly.

“Osomatsu, hold it in!” Karamatsu’s desperate yells proved futile when a gush of brown vomit spilled past Osomatsu’s lips, escaping between his fingers and onto the tiled floor.

Karamatsu yanked Osomatsu into a stall with immense force, narrowly avoiding slipping in the puddle of sick beside his feet. As Karamatsu used every swear word he could think of, Osomatsu fell onto his knees in front of the bathroom, heaving up another thick stream of vomit.

As Osomatsu emptied his stomach into the porcelain bowl, Karamatsu’s eyes desperately darted around the bathroom to see if there was anyone watching them in horror. To his relief, it was just him and his currently throwing up brother.

Karamatsu knelt behind his brother, laying a hand on his shoulder awkwardly as Osomatsu retches for a third time, leaving Karamatsu feel powerless. Should he have been more gentle with his brother, or firmer? Could he have done anything to prevent it?

Osomatsu shuddered, coughing weakly and spitting into the bowl. With all his energy sapped, he swayed forwards when Karamatsu lifted him to his feet. The front of his hoodie was dripping wet, and he would have to return to his room to change his clothes.

“Alright.” Karamatsu broke the silence, grabbing Osomatsu’s arm more gently than he had done a while ago. “We’re going back, and you’re changing.” Although Karamatsu was near-exasperated by his brother, he felt bad for what he had just experienced.

“Please don’t tell the other guys.” Osomatsu pleaded quietly, his sense of shame hitting hard. Karamatsu gave a sincere nod, mentally apologizing to whoever had to use the bathroom next.

Osomatsu still better thank him for all this, Karamatsu thought as he left the bathroom with a teary-eyed Osomatsu.

[thejapanesemapletree]

‘Sealed by Fate’: Bonus Story 2

Title: Seal of Approval

Words: 4065

Pairings: Klance (Keith/Lance), mentions of Shallura (Shiro/Allura) and Hunay (Hunk/Shay).

Notes: bOI, I have the WORST writer’s block, and this is Bad Quality, but I needed to force myself to write, sO,,,

Sickfic bonus story for my selkie Klance fanfic Sealed by Fate lmao

Also: Friendship between Lance and Shay is #pure and #blessed.

Keith woke up sick.

         He moved to turn off his alarm, and the light from his cellphone immediately pained his eyes and resulted in a pulsing headache. He growled and covered his face, and that made him notice the searing heat of his cheeks. It was complimented by the wave of delirium that always came with a fever, and Keith gave up trying to rise and sunk back into bed.

         Keith did not like to be bedridden for any reason, yet here he was.

         It was not only because he hated being inactive for extended lengths of time, but also because lying in bed reminded him of his mother and her constant illness. It reminded him that no matter how sick she was, when he did not feel well she would let him lie with her. It reminded him of how she would brush the hair from his face and comfort him with quiet humming until he fell asleep beside her.

         When he was sick, Keith always wanted his mother.

         Although he probably should have gotten up to get water or medicine to help drop his fever, Keith was in no mood to move. He rolled over to the cool, empty side of the bed and snuggled down, letting the ache of his body encourage him back to sleep.

         His mind wandered to Lance as he let the exhaustion of sickness overtake him, and his heart hurt briefly in longing. Their relationship was new yet, and although they missed each other when they were apart, they knew it was best they spend time separated so they did not get to the point that they were sick of each other and ripped out the one another’s throats. They were no strangers to bickering, sure, but they did not want to actually ruin the relationship by not allowing each other time to adjust. And considering their situation—there was a lot of adjusting to do. Lance still had a family he loved and lived with in the sea, after all.

         Keith finally fell asleep wondering when he would see Lance again, and hoping he would be over his illness by the time he did. Keith told Lance that he could come over whenever he liked, and Keith started leaving clothes in the storage bin beside his front door so when Lance came he did not have to walk between the neighbor’s house to get the key under Shiro’s mat with nothing but a seal pelt to cover him, and so he did not have to go shuffling through Keith’s closet to find something that fit. They did not exactly have a way to communicate while Lance was out at sea, and some days Keith would come home to find Lance sprawled out on the couch and studying how to read from old educational books they had found at the thrift store. And he would perk up as soon as the door opened, rolling over just to grin and ask what was for dinner, and Keith would sigh and see how much money he had for takeout or a grocery trip.

         Keith jolted awake when he heard scuffling from the living room, and he groaned as the movement made the throbbing of his headache worse. He shielded his face under the blanket to wait for the headache to dispel as much as it would, and only peeked out a smidgen when the door clicked open and shut. He was not woozy enough to be stupid, and he wanted to check that it was friendly company.

         Perfect. Speak of the devil: Lance was here.

         Lance stood in Keith’s line of sight from the bedroom, his pelt in one arm, and his free one locking the door behind him like how Keith asked him to do when he came over and no one was home. Keith saw he wore the clothes left for him, and although he stared, Lance did not seem to notice he was there. He instead busied himself by inspecting beside the door what Keith could only guess was their surfboards against the wall. A smile quirked Lance’s lips, and he reached out to touch one of them. Keith hoped he had mind to only mess with his own so he would not have to kill him later.

         The small optimism Keith had of Lance maybe not noticing he was there at all was dashed when Lance left the surfboards and came to tuck his pelt in his favorite hiding place under the mattress. Their eyes met when Lance stepped into the bedroom doorway, and he startled a moment before his eyes softened and he smiled.

         “Oh, I didn’t think you’d be home!”

         Keith did not answer, choosing instead to furrow his brows and roll back to the other side of the bed. Lance took a second to cock his head, confused by the cold response. He then moved to quickly shove his pelt under the mattress, and Keith felt the springs bounce when Lance knelt on the bed.

         “Did you get the day off?”

         Keith had never known Lance not to be handsy, and he maybe should have expected it when Lance reached over and touched the exposed part of his arm. It was a light touch, but nevertheless they flinched away at the same time. Keith huffed out a swear and flipped over to view Lance, whose hand still hesitated midair and expression wilted with worry.

         “You’re burning up.”

         Keith sighed at the obvious observation, and he covered his eyes with the back of his hand. Lance had the wits not make a bad joke out of his words, at least, and Keith appreciated that. Or maybe his concern took precedence over his bad flirtations. Keith was never quite sure with Lance.

         Keith huffed again. “I’m sick.”

         “Sick?” Lance questioned, then perked. “Oh, like a fever!”

         Lance apparently did not take the first hint that Keith did not want to be messed with, and he put his hand halfway over Keith’s fingers and halfway over his cheek. Keith saw between the gaps in his fingers that Lance was going to touch him this time, and he did not snap at him: actually, the tips of his fingers were cool, and they felt quite nice. Keith felt Lance’s breath as he leaned in closer, and the exhale brushed some of the heat from Keith’s face.

Lance  half-whispered, “So, this is what a fever feels like…”

         Keith lifted Lance’s hand away so Lance could see the full extent of Keith’s confused expression—which, judging by Lance’s sudden shame, could have come off as disgust by mistake. Keith’s brain was too unfocused to really care about the thought, and he let Lance take his hand back and fluster with his shirt.

         “I’ve, um, never gotten sick.”

         “Lucky you,” Keith muttered, dropping his hand back across his face.

         “It must be a selkie thing.” Lance rotated his hand in the air. “None of my family has gotten sick either, really sick, and that’s saying something since I swallowed that oil and my little brother used to try to eat plastic—some of the stuff humans dump in the ocean is disgusting, I hope you know.”

         Keith knew from the get-go that having Lance in all his cluelessness would not make him feel better, and that confirmed it. Keith’s stomach soured and cramped, and he turned away and ducked beneath the covers and burrowed his head under his pillow so he would not have to hear about Lance’s brother chewing apart a broken beach pail. It took Lance a moment to notice that Keith had hidden from him, and even then he watched to see if Keith would come out on his own. He eventually concluded that Keith would not, and Lance leaned down to catch a glimpse of him.

         “Are you okay, babe?”

         Keith did not move and did not answer. Lance offered a chirp of affection, but Keith was not persuaded by that either. With him not responding after a second prompting, Lance decided to go straight to whining.

         “Babe, please…”

         Lance was not unkind enough to be loud, but he was persistent, and he chirped again as he snuggled his face into Keith’s arm.

         “My sweet pumpkin roll, my little firefly…”

         Keith groaned as his headache worsened. He brought his hands under the pillow to knead his temples, and he spoke in one beat.

         “Lance, please stop.”

         His words came out strict, but soft, and Lance ceased rubbing his face over Keith’s side like a seal pup who wanted something from its mother. Lance heard Keith groan again, and Lance realized he was being really inconsiderate.

         Keith felt so bad he hardly wanted to move, and here Lance was treating it like it was all some game. Keith—his very own, bad-tempered boyfriend—was vulnerable, and Lance was using it as an opportunity to toy with him. He was being outright cruel.

         Lance’s throat tightened as the guilt overwhelmed him. He slumped and backed off the bed, staring at Keith willfully although he would not notice. Lance swallowed and tried to think what was best to do, and he stood there dumbly longer than he would like to admit.

         “I can do something for you…” Lance wanted to right his wrong. “Maybe Shiro will know how to help.”

         “No use,” Keith spoke from beneath the pillow, and he stopped his massaging to rest his arms back under the blanket. “He’s out of town with Allura for a bike race.”

         Lance stiffened, and then faltered with an exasperated sigh. His only other plan was:

         “Guess I’ll play nursemaid, then.”

         Keith groaned again: and this time not from pain. In normal circumstances, Lance may have rolled his eyes or come up with a taunt, but the groan voiced a lot of his similar feelings.

         Lance honestly had no idea how to take care of a sick person. But, damnit if he was not going to try.

         Lance puffed himself up, finding shreds of confidence that Keith was too tough a person for him to kill by accident and whatever mistakes he made would be seen as cute later.

         Lance turned towards the door. “I’ll get you some water.”

         Keith dared to lift up the pillow slightly when he heard the sink run, and he saw the glass of water make it to the side table unscathed. He raised the pillow further, and Lance did not have to duck far to view him under it. Lance reached out, this time in genuine concern, and Keith was briefly struck by the affectionate gesture of Lance brushing away his bangs and feeling his hot forehead. His lips pursed as he mulled over a thought.

         “Maybe… A bag of ice next?”

         “Please,” Keith exhaled more than spoke, and Lance nodded and returned to the kitchen.

         Keith left the bottom of his pillow altogether, and he lied on his back so the ice pack could fold comfortably against his forehead. Lance inspected his handiwork as Keith looked more at peace, and he snapped as he had another idea.

         “Medicine! Of course!”

         “I don’t think I have much left,” Keith admitted, but Lance was already rooting through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He returned with a bottle, and he squinted at the label.

         “Will eye-boop-prof-in work?”

Keith practically winced. “What?”

“Is it eb-up-row-fen?”

“Wait—ibuprofen?”

“Is that how you say it?”

“Yes, it’ll work.”

There was one pill left, and Keith took it with a sip of water. Lance peered into the bottle woefully before snapping it closed.

“I should get you more.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Lance had never gone to the store without Keith, and Keith did not know if he trusted him not to make a fool of himself. “I’ll get better with or without it.”

“But it’ll help you get better faster!” Lance’s tone held an indignant edge. “I don’t like you like this, and I know you don’t either.”

Very true. Keith stared at Lance through the haze of his fever and the midday light. He stood with a determined smirk, and Keith eventually had to decide it was not worth the argument and that Lance out of the house meant he could go back to sleep in peace. He opened the drawer on the side table where his wallet was, and he gave Lance the meanest look he could muster.

“I’m trusting you, Lance.”

A shiver graced his spine, and Lance nodded to show he understood. He slipped the wallet in his pocket, and Keith wasted no time flopping back and shutting his eyes.

And although Lance had everything ready to go, something needy tugged at his heart when he imagined leaving Keith like that all on his own, even for a short while. Lance hesitated at the front door, looking back to the outline of Keith in his bed with the bag of ice on his forehead and glass of water beside him. His eyes fell also to the empty side of the bed, where he slept when he stayed the night, and an idea came to him.

Lance rushed to fulfill his plan and get on his way to the grocery store. Keith felt the mattress shift under him, and he cracked his eyes open when Lance leaned over him and kissed his cheek. It was such a quick peck and run that Keith thought that would be the end of it, until he heard the door close and saw a shape in his peripheral.

Keith realized that Lance had snuck his pelt over him.

He recognized the shimmering brown colors of the fur, and he stared at the spots along the back as his brain processed why Lance would cover him with his pelt in the first place. His hands then moved suddenly from beneath the blanket, Keith not fully understanding he wanted to thread his fingers into the pelt until they were there.

The fur was velvety soft, with the underside oddly smooth and supple like skin. Keith brushed his hand over the pelt in both areas, and he remembered all the other times Lance had allowed him to touch his pelt, and a deep admiration settled in his chest. He pulled the pelt closer to smother his face in the folds.

It smelled like the sea and the baked tang of sun on skin: it smelled like Lance. Keith sighed into the pelt, and he let the bag of ice slide off his head as he turned over and clutched the pelt to his chest. He did not much mind the fur trapping more of the heat to his body.

Like how Keith trusted Lance with his wallet, Lance trusted Keith with his pelt.

Meanwhile, Lance made it to the store by himself in one piece, and he walked through the sliding doors triumphantly and immediately got lost on his way to the medicine aisle. He had to pace the store twice before he found it, and when he did he nearly tripped into a bin of travel-pack tissues in his haste.

He wondered if there was something better than ibuprofen, but did not trust himself to find it amongst the other options. He also had to check three shelves before he found bottles similar to the one he needed, and when he saw the bottle he was looking for, he snatched it off the shelf so quickly he knocked over two others he scrambled to put back upright.

Maybe Keith was right to worry.

A voice called from down the aisle, “Oh—Lance!”

Lance looked to the intersection of the aisles. Then, he grinned and shot up from his crouching position.

“Shay!”

She smiled and waved and walked towards him, a full shopping basket in one hand, and Lance questioned her approach before he remembered that Keith had told her a long time ago that Lance was not actually deaf like he said he was when they first met. Hunk and Pidge knew the real reason why he had not spoken that time, but Lance did not know if he trusted Shay enough yet to tell her he had the ability to change into a seal and happened to swallow oil and wash up on the beaches of Arus. She stopped at a polite distance and looked around, and she blinked at Lance curiously.

“Is Keith not with you?”

“No.” Lance shook his head and wiped an invisible tear. “I’m picking up some things for him since my lil’ spitfire is sick.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Shay replied, but her lips quirked at Lance calling Keith ‘spitfire’ as an endearment. “Is he taking to being tended to well enough?”

“We’re trying,” Lance admitted. “I’m not really good at taking care of sick people.”

“It comes with practice,” she assured him.

She saw he only had the medicine bottle, and her head tilted slightly. “Is that all you came for? Did you consider getting him soup?”

Lance did not even know if Keith had eaten that day. He did not ask for food, so Lance sort of assumed he did—but then again, Keith did not really ask for anything Lance had given him. Keith had left whatever he gotten up to Lance, and he did not look like he had moved from bed all day, and that made Lance think maybe he had not chosen to get food.

“There’s a deli here, right?”

“Yes, over this way!”

Lance allowed Shay to lead him through the store, much like how Keith did when they went on an outing together. Only, Keith was a power-shopper, and Lance often found himself rushing to catch up when he realized he was distracted by something and Keith had moved right along. And Lance would grouch that it was not really fair that Keith would not let him investigate the products he could not have while out a sea, and Keith would just furrow his brows in that way of his and tell Lance he was being ridiculous and another bickering match would break out.

Fucking Keith.

“Hunk likes to make me soup when I’m not feeling well,” Shay broke Lance out of being angry at Keith and going back to worrying about him at the same time. “When I had a sinus infection last winter, he came over and made me a big pot of chicken soup that lasted a whole week! Perhaps Keith would like something similar.”

“Maybe…”

Unfortunately, Lance did not have the cooking skills Hunk had; since Lance had met Keith, he had upgraded his cooking skills enough to make oatmeal or macaroni and cheese by himself, but not much else. It did not help that he could not read the cooking instructions most of the time, and that led to Keith being the head chef in the relationship.

Fucking Keith.

“There is a sale on soups today!” They entered the bakery half of the deli, and Shay was tall enough to see the sign by the counter over the racks of bread. “How lucky you are!”

“Lucky—yeah,” Lance replied, although the way she sometimes worded things made her enthusiasm seem odd. “Thanks for showing me where it was.”

She smiled, and they said their farewells, and Lance hurried to get the soup and pay for the medicine so he could return to Keith as soon as possible. It was a little awkward trying to balance the medicine bottle atop the soup container while he ruffled under Shiro’s mat for the key, but he managed, and he replaced the key and opened the door successfully.

Keith did not rouse from the bed, and Lance took extra precautions to shut the door quietly. Keith’s house was fairly new, so Lance did not have to worry about the floor creaking as he crept into the bedroom. He set the soup and medicine on the opposite side table. He checked that did not wake Keith, and he sat slowly on the bed so it would not bounce.

Lance got a little spark of joy when he realized Keith was wrapped up with his pelt. He applauded himself for be clever enough to think of giving it to him—despite practically being able to hear his mother scolding him about trusting someone with something so important. Lance supposed her worry came with his sister’s pelt being taken from her, and he could understand that.

But Lance knew what he was doing. Or: he liked to think he did.

Keith faced away from him, the bag of ice fallen to the pillow, and the black rat’s nest Keith claimed to be hair blocked whatever view of his face Lance should have had. When Lance was not mad at him, he would dare say it was a pretty face: a face with dark lashes to contrast light skin, and attractive eyebrows that scrunched up far too frequently. But now, the eyebrows were lax, and the pale skin flushed red with fever. Lance inched closer from across the bed, not wanting to startle Keith, but also wanting to feel like he was there for him.

Lance started absentmindedly humming a song: one about the moon on the purple ocean; one that Keith said he liked especially well. Lance knew he held some magic in his singing, and he tried to hum softly enough to calm Keith while he slept rather than wake him. He stopped, however, when Keith’s breathing pattern wavered, and he remained still as Keith shifted. He hesitated before craning his head over his shoulder, blinking at Lance as if seeing him in a dream.

“Lance…?”

He spoke in a soft voice Lance had never heard before. Lance smiled and stroked his arm, pulling his pelt back up when it slipped from Keith’s shoulder,

“Hey, babe… I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Keith blinked again, “I don’t know…”

Then:

“You’re so pretty.”

Lance laughed, and Keith just stared as Lance remembered the night Keith had reached towards Lance and thought he was his mother.

“Thanks.” Lance winked, wallowing in the compliment he would not get if Keith were in the right state of mind. “But, you’re the one with the prettiest part of me.”

Lance pointed at the pelt, and Keith’s gaze fell to it like he did not even realize it was there. Lance laughed again and sat up, ushering Keith to do the same.

“C’mon.” Lance really wanted to milk this for as long as he could, but he knew it was not for the best. “I got you soup. You should eat it before it gets cold.”

Lance went to fetch a spoon from the kitchen, and he popped off the top of the soup container while Keith tried to work out of whatever daze he was under. Lance wafted the steam from the soup, and Keith blew on it for good measure before taking a sip of the broth. Satisfied, he dipped in the spoon and got a bite of noodles.

“This is good,” Keith said after swallowing, the typical edge back in his voice.

“I got it from the deli.” Lance preened his ego like he had done it alone. “I figure you hadn’t eaten today.”

“Thank you.”

They rested in silence as Keith ate more of the soup. He stopped halfway through when a quiet look came to his face.

“You know… You taking care of me hasn’t been so bad.”

“Aw, babe!” Lance flipped so fast to his stomach the bedframe rattled. “Do you really mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Keith gave Lance one of his unimpressed looks. “But don’t go getting a big head about it.”

Lance sighed, “Alright, alright.”

He may have agreed, but Keith saw him already goading to himself. Keith exhaled through his nose and went back to soup to try to ignore it, but Lance had other plans. His eyes fell to the seal skin resting across Keith’s body, and an absolutely impish smirk curled his lips.

“Hey—Keith.” Lance ran his hand down the tail end of the pelt. “Would you say I got your… seal of approval?”

Keith nearly choked. “Oh my god, Lance, no.”

Lance laughed so hard he wheezed, and if Keith were not sitting with a hammering headache and container of soup, he may have taken the opportunity to smother him.

Fucking Lance.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

hey (sorry back again) i just realised you write for riverdale so I wanted to ask if you would write something for archie finding juggie after his dad was arrested and he's been in the rain for hours and obviously doesn't have a home and doesn't want to go back to arch's bc of the whole thing and plus he's already been a little ill but being cold and wet outside at night increased that by like tenfold

(Dude I want you to know I adore this prompt with all my heart. This is right up my alley and presses every button i love in a sickfic!)

A picture.

Torn, sodden and crumpled on the cold, wet ground. It glistens with the rain.

A picture of his family Jughead keeps in his pocket at all times. A picture that once filled with his cold heart with a little spark of warmth. Even just a little. A picture that once served as his only hope, the thing he looked ahead on the horizon in hopes it could get him through this awful limbo he was living.  

Jughead watches as it withers and breaks down as the rain splatters harshly on top of it. Soaking it to its core, and he watches as the colours splatter and mix and distort until it is all gone. Just this haunting culmination of what was once there. Horribly warped.

It’s scarily to the point, very resemblant of how he feels now.

Jughead was so sure. He was so sure he could get it back. But he got screwed over, again, and again and again. He never learned. He never learned.

How foolish of him to let himself open the heart he had locked away for good reason, locked away and hidden in the dark corners of a projection booth playing a condensed version of life filled with certainty and a happy end. A conclusion, development, contentment. Jughead had opened himself up again and all he got was a huge blow to his heart and this time Jughead doesn’t think he can put himself back together again.

Jughead thinks maybe this is all he’s ever going to be.

He can never be more than these broken parts. Forever a mess running away from a life he thought he could have, only for it to be ripped to pieces and revealing a nightmare of a life he has to run from. A mess running away from what should have been a fun night with his friends, feeling alive, being a kid.

But that’s just not the way it worked for Jughead. There was something written in his DNA that prevented him from having these things.

The sudden realisation that this is all Jughead’s ever going to have and any hope of light and good in his life are all just futile daydreams forever trapped in his mind is too much for him to bear.

There is not much he can do but burst into tears, his heart aching and screaming for something, a bit of warmth, a bit of light, a bit of love and someone to hold him and tell him it’s going to be alright. Feed him this lie just a little bit longer. His body cannot support the heavy weight of his aching body as he slides down onto the wet, glittering sidewalk, and he buries his face in his hands as he cries.

He despises the little pathetic noises that rip out from his throat as he cries. He sounds so weak and stupid and he resents every inch of his being. Jughead sobs into his hands, every inch of his body wet and pouring. His eyes pour with tears, hair dripping delicate little drops and his nose has began to run from how much he’s crying, and also a mix of the cold he has and the cold he’s feeling.

He grieves and shivers with the cold, his body racked with a rampaging fever he swore was only a light one earlier that day. His teeth chatter violently as he throws his arms around himself in a pathetic attempt to stop his frame from convulsing. He sniffles weakly, coughing wetly, a chesty timbre to the explosions and he splutters. He feels awful. Every inch of him feels awful.

It had started as a little cold. He was sneezing a little more than often, there was a congested timbre to his coughing and he felt a little more exhausted than usual. He’d feel a bit of uncomfortable warmth, as well as this invisible weight weighing down in his shoulders. But it was fine, he was fine.

Jughead had been fine up until this point. He was fine. He was getting ready for a dance with his friends doing normal high school things. He was wearing a nice suit and his hair wasn’t quite as messy. Jughead was a part of something. He joined in with everyone else, stepped out of his shadowy sidelines and experienced things. He didn’t just watch as it went by. Jughead was living, and he had let himself think that this was the end of a long cold lonely winter and he could finally begin. Start anew.

His rampaging fever was only a sure sign of the crumbling and horrendous crash of his life. It’s like someone’s killed him, and who better than his own father, who Jughead thought was getting better, only to find he had already taken an innocent life. A child much like himself. Gone, because of his own flesh and blood.

His mind drifts off to a place so dark and deep, and he starts hoping that his father could come out now and take him too. It almost seems better than this hell he was living.

A sudden burst of coughing takes him away from that dark place and Jughead is glad, because he doesn’t want to be there, but the alternative still hurts. When he coughs it’s like someone is stabbing him in the chest repeatedly, and an awfully painful, screeching echo is left in him after each hacking cough that doubles him over.

The sickly sound is awfully resonant from his chest, and it sounds wet and horrible. Nothing can be worse than this. Jughead continues to cry as he rain falls and leaves him frozen to the bone. He continues to shiver violently and sniffle wetly, awkwardly trying to wipe away the clear liquid onto his sleeve. The action irritates his already reddened and sensitive nose, and he’s taken over by a sharp inhale as his nostrils twinge a little bit and he pitches forward with two harsh, miserable sneezes.

He feels so sick and tired, like he just wants to cuddle up in an actual bed in an actual home that belongs to him and sleep for an eternity. Jughead just wants to rest. His head is so heavy and blurry and clogged up he just wants to curl up then and there. He’s awfully miserable and he just wants for a little bit of sun. A little bit of warmth.

And he does.

It’s not quite what he had been picturing in his mind, but it’s more or less the same. Still warmth, still the sun.

He hears little footsteps in plodding along the rain, making little splashing noises as the being walks across the wet pavement. Jughead doesn’t budge from his crouched, crying position because he doesn’t care. He cannot find it in his heart to care anymore because last time he did he was hurt. He doesn’t care whoever this is, wether it’s some poor confused passerby or Sheriff Keller looking to interrogate him.

But whoever this person is cares enough to calmly approach him, he can feel their presence (and it’s wonderfully warm and Jughead wants to hold them but he’s too scared), they bend down to sit next to him on the edge of the sidewalk.

“Juggie..” Archie whispers softly, reaching out to hold him but cautious. Archie knows Jughead well, he doesn’t always like to be touched.

Jughead doesn’t respond, because he doesn’t know how to.

All he can really do is look up at Archie with a look that is screaming “please help me” or “I need you” or “I don’t know what i’m going to do and everything hurts so much please don’t go” or “I’m falling apart at the seams and I don’t think I can hang on any longer please hold me and don’t let go” but Jughead can’t say anything. He just bursts into tears away and looks away in shame of himself. Ashamed he’s gotten this low.

Jughead desperately wants to just grab at Archie and take in whatever light is left for him. Because Archie is the only light left and he’s shining so bright but Jughead is so scared that once he touches him Archie’s light will go out too. If that happens, Jughead isn’t sure if he can handle it.

He wants to bask in Archie’s light and fall into him and let the world disappear but he’s afraid. He can’t let himself live this lie anymore. This sort of thing cannot and will not happen for him. He has to save his heart. It can’t take it anymore. He can’t let himself believe he can go home to Archie because it is not his home. Jughead cannot belong anywhere. He is doomed to be alone forever. To forever live day by day, forever never having a sense of stability and a home to go to. He will never belong.

“Juggie, I’m so sorry…” Archie says shakily, looking at Jughead with a look so full of guilt and sadness and sympathy. Like his heart is breaking with him.

“You deserve better,” Archie whispers softly, but his voice is strong despite the softness. He is looking at him with so much love and compassion that Jughead can’t help but fall back in. Fall back into this wonderland of an idea of a home. He’s falling back in, and he’s filled with so much terror but it feels so good to let himself believe he can have one.

He’s fallen.

Jughead caves in and lets out a sharp gasp, and falls into Archie’s embrace. The bigger boy is slightly taken aback, but he melts into it with ease and lets it happen. He wraps his arms around Jughead’s shivering frame and lets him hold him close. He holds him with all the love he can possibly muster.

Jughead balls Archie’s t-shirt into his fists, grip tight. He sobs, voice cracking as tears start to drip onto Archie’s grey baseball tee. He’s changed from his suit, Jughead notes, meaning a significant amount of time has passed since the news. He wonders how long it’s been.

Jughead’s breathing begins to pick up as he sobs furiously into Archie’s t shirt, and his best friend soothingly rubs his back while making soft, comforting noises to try and console him to the best of his ability.

“Wh-what the fuck am I going t-to do?! I’m so lost, I don’t kn-know..I w-was s-so sure, Arch..I thought I could f-finally have a family, t-that I could f-finally go home! I was so f-fucking wrong, Archie. I can never..I will never have a home. This is all I’m e-ever going to be!” Jughead sobs hard, his grip tightening. He feels faint from his lack of breathing, his shallow breaths causing his head to ache and the world to spin. His world has already tilted as it is, and now it spins rapidly like he’s on a never ending ride that keeps on going and there’s nothing he can do to stop its eventual crash.

“My dad is a MURDERER!” Jughead hisses angrily, his breathing rough and ragged. “He didn’t just kill Jason that night, he killed my family! He killed any chance of us getting back together! He tore it all apart and watched as it burned! I had a dream my life would be so different from this fucking hell i’m living and he turned it to shame! I hate this! I HATE THIS!”

“Jug,” Archie tries hopelessly as he tries to hold Jughead together as he continues to convulse beneath his grasp. He tenses as the boy began to cough violently, an awfully chesty timbre to the sound of it. His body is racked by the burst of explosions, causing him to bob forward weakly. Archie cups a hand around Jughead’s face and frowns.

“God, Jug! You’re burning up!! We gotta get you home..” Archie gasps.

Jughead lets out a weak moan when he finishes and shakes his head, mumbling feverishly, his body still shuddering,“Nowhere to go..”

“You do, Jughead, please, come with me,” Archie begs worriedly, his heart beginning to race slightly as he feels the intense heat radiating off of Jughead’s pale, wet skin.

“No!” Jughead gasps, and his eyes flicker wildly as he falls into a panic, “I’ve nowhere to go, I’m alone, I’m so alone, I don’t know where I’m going, I just want to be a kid, why can’t I be a kid, what did I do wrong? I hate myself so much..hh..!”

Jughead is spewing out words irrationally, his breathing short as he heaved and gasps, hands shaking violently as he looks around wildly.

“Jughead!” Archie exclaims, bringing Jughead back to reality. He reaches for his shaking, frozen hands and holds them steady, firm in his warmer hands. He intertwines them firmly, scared if he lets go Jughead will be lost from him forever. He’ll slip away for good.

“It’s not your fault,” Archie says softly.

Jughead looks away.

“Jughead, look at me, it’s not your fault,” Archie says.

“I know,” Jughead says shakily, chuckling slightly to try and brush him off.

“No, you don’t, Jughead, It’s not your fault.”

Tears prick at his eyes, shoving him away slightly, “I know! I know! Shut up!”

“Jughead..It’s not your fault.”

Jughead breaks down into another round of tears and throws himself onto Archie, holding him tightly as he cries. It’s almost like sense of relief has washed over him, an overwhelming clarity that has just graced him. A burden off of his shoulders.

“You are never going to be alone. You belong here, Jughead, as much as that voice in your head tells you you don’t. We all love you, Jughead. I’m here, Jughead, and I am not going anywhere. I’m here, and I am here to tell you you are so much more than you think of yourself. And as long as I’m here, you will have a home. It’s not so much the family you were born with, but the family you make along the way. You are my family, Jughead.”

A fond twinkle sparkled across Archie’s eyes, “You know that movie when we were kids? Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind.”

Jughead managed a small smile, his shaking subsiding a little, “I was..I was thinking more along the lines of Vin Diesel in the Fast and the Furious ‘I don’t have friends, I have family’ type, but that’s alright I guess.”

Archie manages a little chuckle at that, glad that Jughead has enough left in him to tell a joke. He hasn’t lost him yet, and he hopes it lasts for a little while because once Jughead has stopped making jokes Archie has lost him completely. The moment Jughead stops distracting himself, he’ll let the monsters in, and Archie’s afraid of what that will do.

He can only hope his love is enough.

Jughead’s face scrunches up and his breath hitches, and his nose flares a little and he pitches forward with three messy sneezes towards the glistening gravel and he groans. He rubs his nose irritably and is suddenly taken over by another sneeze which he sloppily covers with the hand already on his nose.

“Bless you,” Archie says quietly as he pulls Jughead to his feet.

“Lets go home.”

Archie helps Jughead into the house, trying to shush him for apologising about how wet he is. He’s almost glad another harsh, sickly sounding sneeze escapes him because it means Jughead can shut up for once.

Archie passes Jughead a tissue and he obliges, blowing his nose softly and eventually, he ends up sneezing again, scrunching his nose up as he continues to sneeze all over the tissue. He gasps for air in between, feeling extremely woozy as he finishes.

“Bless you, kiddo,” Fred says softly, but yet somehow his voice booms across the hallway which causes Jughead to jump slightly (Archie makes a mental note to bring his dad’s lack of an indoor voice up sometime, and Fred says Archie’s guitar is loud).

Fred approaches Jughead and gives him one sad look, and then all of a sudden he’s giving Jughead a huge hug and embracing him. He’s embracing Jughead with so much fatherly love and care, more care in this one moment than Jughead thinks he’s ever received in his whole life. It’s a little scary, but it’s nice.

“I’m so sorry, Jughead, you don’t deserve this. I hope you know that. We are more than happy to be your family for now, and we’ll have you for as long as you have us. I love you, Jughead, and I’m so so sad the world has done this to you. You deserve all the sunshine and blue skies, and it’s a crime this is what you’ve received,” Fred whispers, eyes closed as he lightly rocks Jughead in his hug. Jughead feels small, but in the best possible way. He feels safe and protected, like everything’s going to be okay.

“I..don’t want to do this to you guys,” Jughead croaks.

“Do what? All you’ve done for us is good.” Fred reassures.

Jughead nods and he tries to pull away, but he’s too weak, and ends up accidentally muffling four tired sneezes into Fred’s jacket.

“Excuse me,” Jughead mumbles with embarrassment, but Fred only chuckles and ruffles the curly black hair.

“Archie, go get him some dry clothes, he’s freezing,” Fred says, and sends Jughead off on his way.

“This is your home, Jughead. You are not alone.”

“And we are going to tell you that as many times as it takes for you to understand that concept, Jughead. This is your home and we love you,” Archie smiles softly.

A few minutes later, Jughead comes into Archie’s bedroom/ in a soft sweater and sweat pants, beanie less, pale and red nosed and cheeked, sick looking, tired, exhausted. But he looks a little less broken than he had been a while ago.

Archie ushers him onto the bed and  joins him on the bed, and immediately loving arms are being wrapped around him and he lets out a shaky exhale of relief as multiple warm blankets are draped over him.

Archie wraps an arm around Jughead’s waist as Fred comes up to feel his temperature. He frowns.

“That’s not good at all,” Fred frowns. “He’s going to feel awful tomorrow.”

“And we’ll be here for him,” Archie confirms.

“Jughead..you will talk to us, about this, right? You know we’re here to listen,” Archie asks quietly.

Jughead thinks, and it takes a while for him with his feverish haze. He’s not really sure at first, but despite this daze, the answer is crystal clear and he could not be more sure.

“I will,” This time, he means it.

Fred gives him a sad smile and a fatherly kiss on the head, “Jug..i promise you that everything will make sense again. And that this will all feel like a very long time ago.”

Jughead smiles softly, and maybe this time, it’s genuine. He cuddles against Archie, and he closes his eyes. He can finally get some rest. In a home that belongs to him.

Maybe one day there will be another picture. Maybe this time it will have him, Archie and Fred all laughing at some fishing trip they went on together with the sun shining and the river sparkling. Or maybe it will even be FP and his Mom and Jellybean at a birthday party that didn’t end in tears.

Whatever is it is,  it’s going to leave him with a warm feeling of hope whenever he looks of it. It’s going to be alive with colour and it’s going to be beautiful.

Maybe not now, Jughead needs time. He needs to heal. But it’s going to happen one day, and Jughead can’t wait for the day it comes.

And when it does it’ll all make sense again.