#sicfic

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

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

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

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

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

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

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

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

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

“Asthma.” He said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

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

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

“Honey.” She said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-“ you began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

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

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

PART 2

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

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

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

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

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

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

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

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

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

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

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

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

. “you okay y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

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

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

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

. “y/n!”

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

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

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

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

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

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

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

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

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

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

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

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

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

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

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

. but neither budge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. so yeah

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

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

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

[oodlesodoodles]

[lime202]

Don't Mind Me,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, don't mind me.

[noodlebro]

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

Word count: 1915

—

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

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

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

*Sndrff*

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

“You uh- you good?”

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

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

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

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

“..glaldy.” 

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

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

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

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

“Uh, itd’s ndot Charlie-.”

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

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

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

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

“..there was a spbill odn the bar”

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

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

“..thangks.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Angel hears knocks on his door.

“Hm?”

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

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

“Okay! See you then!”

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

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

…

fuck.

—

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

“I needa drink.”

…

“Whiskers?”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know. In his room?”

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

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

“Thanks, vagina.”

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

“FUCK YOU. IN THE BAD WAY.”

“Slow.” 

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

Vaggie snorted.

“Bitch, what now?”

“Someone’s down bad.”

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

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

“AGHH.” Angel shouts, storming off.

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

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

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

“Okay, fuck you, now go away”

“fine.”

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

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

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

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

He starts inhaling the pepper.

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

—

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

“He snorted pepper.”

“HE WHAT”

Vaggie sips her coffee.

“He snorted pepper.”

“Uh- okay.”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could say the sabme for you.”

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

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

“..fidne.”

“YESSSS” He internally screams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh fugck you, fidne.”

“Ha.”

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

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

“Mmhfff… thangks..”

“Don’t mention it.”

“…”

“…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Itd’s ndot thadt bad…”

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

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

“Do you have anything for that?”

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

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

“hh..hHH-”

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

[abiiors]

Can we get some sick Matty fluff? Coming from a gal fighting a sinus infraction rn 😢

A sinus infection sounds horrible :( I hope you feel better soon x

Also here you go, I hope you like it! There’s some nudity in this one but it’s absolutely non-sexual.

If you want a swapped version of this, go here!

Sick Day

A string of sneezes echoes around the house followed by a wet cough. 

You wince at how bad he sounds today. Despite the check-up he’s had yesterday, his cough only sounds worse. You try to hurry up in the kitchen, beg the soup to finish cooking as soon as possible. When it takes too much time, you put the flame on a low heat and make your way to your shared bedroom. 

You can see a mop of curly hair peeking out from under three different blankets. Even when he’s so bundled up, you can see a shiver wrack his body every now and then.

He’s not allowed to speak, he’s not allowed to sing and he has no strength to get out of bed. In short, what you have on your hands today is a big, irritable baby. You try to caress his cheek but his face only scrunches up in pain at even the smallest of touches. That’s how you know that the congestion is terrible. 

When he feels the bed dip under your weight, he turns around with great effort and buries his face in your lap. His eyes are red-rimmed and the bags under them are so pronounced—it breaks your heart to see him like this. But there’s only so much you can do for him apart from sitting with him and stroking his hair.

‘Have you taken your medicine, love?’ you ask as you continue to stroke his head. It’s warm, so much warmer than it normally is that you mentally try to remember the last time you checked his temperature.

He opens the Notes App on his phone with some difficulty and starts typing.

I don’t think I can swallow anything :( 

‘Matty…’ you scold gently but only because you’re worried about him. ‘Baby, you need to take them.’

Another :( is his only response. 

‘How about I bring you some soup, yeah? That might ease up your throat?’

He contemplates that for a bit and then barely nods his head. It takes another two minutes for him to actually get his head off your lap but you let him be as clingy as he wants to. 

You waste no time getting back to the kitchen and bringing him a bowl of steaming soup. Getting him to sit up, however, proves to be a bit of a herculean task. He tries not to put all his weight on you but you end up having to prop him up against the pillows anyway. He holds up his phone and frowns.

I feel like an invalid.  

A small laugh escapes you at that. He’s managed to make you laugh even when he feels like death warmed up and he clearly looks proud about it. 

‘Come on now,’ you hand him the bowl, ‘or should we pretend it’s an airplane?’

He rolls his eyes but ends up cracking a smile anyway. He even manages to finish the entire bowl of soup. But then his mood sours again when you hold up the two round pills in front of him. 

‘Don’t make this into a battle of wills. You know I’ll win,’ you quickly warm him just as he’s in the middle of making a face. But in the end, he obliges. 

The muscles of his throat move, trying to reject the pill but he swallows again and gulps down some more water. Then he picks up his phone again. 

Will you stay?

‘Of course, I will,’ you say. In fact, you’re already getting comfy in the bed and pulling his head on your lap. 

He cracks a small smile when he feels your fingers running through his hair and then mouths a “thank you”. A combination of the medicine and his exhaustion—it doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out.

Sometime in the second hour of his nap, he begins to kick off the blankets one by one. You run over a hand over his forehead, his cheek and notice that the collar of his jumper is slowly turning damp with sweat. 

‘Matty,’ you shake him as gently as possible. ‘You need to wake up, love. I think your fever is breaking.’

He groans a bit but then cracks an eye open. 

‘Do you think you can take a bath?’ 

Only if you can take one with me,

he types out. Despite the illness, you like this clingy version of him, how he wants you to be there for every little thing he does. 

***

He sways a bit at first but manages to hold himself upright while you get him out of his clothes. The bath is almost full by now—you’ve made sure to add some oils in there too and now your entire bathroom smells like peppermint and eucalyptus. 

The bath is big enough for the two of you but when you get in after him, he instantly scoots closer; closes his eyes as you lather shampoo on his scalp. His face is still paler than usual but he looks much more alert now. Much less ready to keel over. 

The water will go cold in a bit, you know it will. For now, you just let him indulge as much as he wants to.

[techyghoul]

Cold Compress

General Rating, Sickficlet of Mist caring for Zephyr.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[zensations35]

Cleaning Up Asgard (TVA Loki AU)

Between Quantumania and the new Loki season, I had to write a fic for my favorite trickster. This is based in the AU where Loki is working for the TVA, correcting timelines and stuff. Got some banter, some brotherly love, some action, and ofc, some illness.

The portal widens enough to step through. The entryway into Asgard is as mystifying as ever. Sure, he’s used to seeing places from the past--places that have been wiped from existence--but Asgard…it’s just different. 

Different and the same.

Loki steps out of the portal, his boots clipping tiny echos across the marbled floor. He knows he’s alone in the chilly white blanched hall. Still, he must be quick. Patrols will be by soon. He inhales the familiar scents of magic, mutton, and nostalgia. That gripping deja vu he gets every time he takes a mission in his former home.

He doesn’t have time to reminisce though. He’s here because of…well, because of himself. What’s new?

This timeline is threatened because the Loki from this moment has received an offer from a higher power to kill Thor. Remove him from the playing board. Loki doesn’t know who is behind this--that is a whole other problem that Mobius is working on--but Loki’s mission here is to prevent himself, this other self, from taking action against Thor. 

Currently, this timeline’s Loki is glamoured as Odin, presiding over Asgard as King. Loki feels he might be able to reason with himself. If he can’t convince himself to do something, who could?

Green light flickers down Loki’s body and his appearance is now that of a royal guard.

This mission shouldn’t be too difficult, even with the general weariness enveloping Loki like a woolen blanket wrapped tight. Mobius insisted he must be falling ill. But that’s nonsense. Yes, Loki has been more sickly than the average god, but he would know if he were sick.

It would be more than a scratch in his throat. More than a slight drip from his nose now and then. More than a sudden, unprovoked sneeze. More than a sense of vertigo when he camouflaged himself.

No, there would be more happening if he were ill. 

As if to spite him, pinpricks blaze through his nose and he doubles over, “HN-gshk’T!” 

Damn it all. He might actually be sick. The mere act of straightening back up sends twinges down his spine. 

Very well. Even so. Loki has accomplished many things while ill. Malaise will never stop him.

He strides through the hall with purpose, heading toward Odin’s chambers. Or would he be on the throne now? Hm…

Paused in the center of the wide hall, Loki rubs his chin in thought. And he hears someone approaching. The footsteps sound aggressive, the sweep of a cloak snapping through the hall. Loki’s heart speeds. He whirls to see his brother storming down the hall, toward him. 

“Where is my father?” he asks, voice booming.

Loki composes himself, doing his damndest to resist the urge to rub his nose. “I am not sure,” he quickly adds, “your highness.”

Thor looks peeved. “You are sworn to guard my father, yet you do not know where he is?”

Loki’s lips rub together. “He sent me on an errand. I am returning from the task.”

“What errand was so important to send his personal guard?”

“I…” Shit. Normally, Loki is quite good at improvisation. If his damned nose would stop itching-- “I am not at liberty to say, my prince.”

Thor considers him for a moment, then nods. “Very well. We shall seek him out together.” He takes long strides down the hall, expecting the guard (Loki) to follow.

Loki falls into step behind Thor, using the chance to swipe at his nose. His finger grazes his left nostril, but instead of controlling the itch, the touch ignites it.

“HHhh-!” 

Loki squeezes his nostrils with his palm, but the fight is lost. He feels it peak before the sneeze spills out of him. 

“HX-gnh” his shoulders shudder, but he’s confident he stifled well.

He sniffles thickly, head tilting back up to see Thor staring at him. Angrily.

“No,” Thor breathes. His eyes are a storm. Loki can see clouds. Rain. And...

Lightning. 

Fingers wrap around Loki’s neck, making him gasp as he is shoved against the wall. 

“Hgk--What in Odin’s name--”

Thor squeezes tighter. “Drop your illusion,” Thor commands.

Shit. Sneezing must have caused a flicker in his disguise. He needs to explain. He needs to think. He needs…khghhh…to breathe…

“Now!” Thor bellows, thunder cracking with his voice. The wall splinters and Loki’s vision darkens. 

Loki flings off the glamour, revealing himself--an older version of the Loki Thor remembers.

Thor’s mouth gapes. “Brother?” he releases Loki and sucks in a breath. “How…” he takes a step back, “Where…” then, anger curls his lip, “I thought you were dead! I cried for you! I--”

“Mourned for me, yes I know,” Loki pants as he massages his neck. He straightens, “Well, I am alive, as you can see. But I have important business to attend to--”

“How long have you…what have you been doing?”

Loki sighs. This is going to take some time, time he does not have. He’s tempted to stasis his brother until he can get things taken care of, but it takes quite a bit of magic to hold a stasis bubble, and if anyone enters the magical dome, Thor would be released immediately. It is not a very efficient spell.

“Loki, if you are here for the throne--”

“Don’t be daft,” Loki waves his hand. “I am one hundred percent not interested.”

This seems to surprise Thor. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’d be shocked if you did, dear brother.”

“I will not let you roam these halls alone,” Thor says. “Tell me what you are up to. Or I shall detain you myself and bring you to Odin.”

Loki holds up his hands, “No need for that, I--hhh--” he closes his eyes, shaking off the tickle. I will not be interrupted by a damn sneeze!

“I am…” Loki’s teeth grind together. He was hoping to avoid this, but at least he can salvage it by erasing Thor’s memory of him later. “I’m from the future.”

Thor looks at him as if he just told him…well, you can imagine the look on Thor’s face. 

“The future?” he looks amused now.

“Yes. This timeline is in danger. Odin has been brainwashed and is plotting to imprison and kill you.”

Thor belts out a laugh. “I see! And you, Loki, God of Lies and Mischief, are here to save me? From my father?”

Loki sags. All the times he’s lied and of course Thor chooses now not to believe him. Granted, he still is lying. But only a little!

“Brother, what I tell you is the tru--”

“I will not allow you to scheme your way to the throne again--” Thor takes a crackling step forward. 

Loki needs to think--fast. But ihhh…it’s so hhhhhard…

Thor is still angry. He is as stubborn as ever. Loki needs to convince him not to imprison him or outright kill him on the spot. He does so have a temper. But…hhh--”hng”...first…

Thor’s body flashes green and he freezes in place. Loki is just a toe out of reach of the stasis dome. 

Thank the stars. 

Loki pinches his nose, quickstepping around the corner, shoulders tight as he sips air. 

“Hhg’KTSH! Igxsshh! Exx’shh-ieh!” His cupped hand catches each one, the third leaving him sucking in a breath and groaning as his head lolls back against the cool marble. 

Oh. That feels so much better. But now his bones are starting to ache, and he can feel his pulse in his temple. Drumbeats behind his eyes. Great…

He takes a moment to plan a rebuttal. He knows exactly what to say. He clears his throat and approaches Thor to dispel the stasis. It’s like pressing play on a film. Thor resumes his tirade, barely finishing his sentence before trailing off. His face falls, concern flashing through his gaze.

Loki’s lips part to speak but Thor is inches away from him, the back of his fingers grazing Loki’s forehead. Loki jerks back as if electrocuted. “What are you--”

“How long have you been ill?”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot up. “Beg pardon?”

Thor all but rolls his eyes. “Do you think I never notice when you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stasis me so you can excuse yourself to cough or sneeze.”

Loki sputters, his tongue twisting. “I…” embarrassment flushes him as he remembers all the times he’s done this. “I haven’t…” he shakes his head, “Thor, it is imperative that you believe me. I am from the future, and I am attempting to correct things. I know you have come from Ijander, that you were sent to slay their Emperor, but you decided not to. I know you now seek the Infinity Stones.”

Thor’s eyes widen. His lips rub together and he gets a crease in his forehead, as it does when he thinks very hard. He stares at Loki, his fingertips trailing along a small scar on Loki’s chin. “You are different, brother. I see no malice in your eyes.”

Loki swallows. “I swear to you on Mother’s spirit, I am trying to help.”

Thor nods. “Very well.” He stands to Loki’s side. “Resume your disguise. And try not to sneeze.”

“Yes, well…” Loki coughs, “I need to do this alone.”

“I think not,” Thor laughs. “You wish to fight Odin yourself?”

“I was actually going to reason with him.”

“And that has gone so well in the past for you.”

“If you only knew.”

Thor presses a palm to Loki’s chest. “Let me go to Father. With this knowledge I can change what happens.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then what is your plan?”

“My plan is to keep you away from Odin. I will reason with him. Perhaps clear his mind from the spell upon him. Then all will be right.”

“That will not work on Father. It takes great power to alter Odin’s mind. You…”

Loki glares at him. “No, go on. You were about to explain that there is no possible way I could bespell Father, because I am not powerful enough.”

“Loki…that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, but it is.” Loki pushes past Thor, “Go, brother. Let me handle this.”

Thor grabs his wrist, “Why won’t you just let me help!?”

Loki whirls, “Because I refuse to watch you die again!”

Loki’s face is contorted with rage--but not his usual maniacal rage. This rage…it comes from a twisted soul who has seen too much. Knows too much. Thor has seen it on Odin’s face many times.

Loki withdraws, composing himself. His face slackens back to a neutral tightness, he smooths his shirt, tugs his tie, all while not meeting Thor’s eyes. 

“How many times have--”

“More than enough,” Loki clips his words. He runs a hand through his tangled hair. “Very well. Enact your plan.” He turns away to leave, “Don’t fuck it up.”

Disguised as the royal guard once more, Loki enters the throne room with Thor at his side. Their trek has been in silence, much to Loki’s relief. It gave him time to think of a plan to get rid of Thor so he can confront his younger self alone. He knows if Thor joins the fight, he will die. It has happened before, it will happen again if Loki lets it. He will not.

They both kneel at the steps before Odin. 

“Father,” Thor says softly. “I humbly request to take leave of Asgard. I wish to go offworld and seek the Infinity Stones.”

Odin’s lips purse and Loki can see the fire being stoked behind the facade. 

“Thor Odinson,” the false King booms, “I have heard many whispers. Whispers that you intend to use these stones to thwart Asgard. To give them to the Avengers…from Earth.”

Thor blinks at him. “I…Father, you cannot think that I value them more than Asgard.”

“Do you?”

Loki doesn’t even know the true answer to that question. He remains kneeled at False Odin’s feet.

“Father, I would never--”

Odin slams his staff onto the ground with a resounding thump. “I have to take action. You will not be allowed off of Asgard. I will have you questioned as to your loyalty.” He gestures for the guards, “Seize him.”

“What?! No--Father!” Even though Loki told Thor this would happen, his brother still looks utterly shocked, as if he didn’t truly believe Loki. He likely didn’t. 

Loki joins the other guards, pulling out shackles. A glimmer of green glints over the metal, Loki’s enchantment taking effect as he claps the chains on Thor. He leans far enough down to whisper in Thor’s ear.

“I’m sorry, brother.” 

Thor’s blue eyes widen. “You--”

“It’s better this way,” he helps the guards hoist him up, “I will handle it.”

“No--stop, you can’t!”

“Guard!” Odin’s voice cuts through the moment. Loki stills, hoping he is not the target of that call. He turns and his gut twists when he sees Odin staring straight at him.

“Your highness?”

“Come here.”

Loki gives the struggling Thor one last glance before sweeping toward the false King. He dips into a low kneel, mind reeling with plans to use this situation to his advantage, flipping through each idea like a book.

The false Odin lifts his spear and tucks it under Loki’s chin. Loki tries not to gasp as his head is craned up to meet the false eyes of Odin. 

“What is your name, guard?”

“I…” Loki’s lips come up dry. He takes in air to reply but the breath stutters. “Hhh--hih!” His hand juts up, fingers curling around the golden bar beneath his chin. He wrenches the spear away in time to plunge into his arm, “HK’SHHHT!” He’s not sure if his glamour held for that sneeze but he knows the next will drop it completely. Yet he cannot…”Hh-eh!” Stop it--

“XXSSHHT-eiu!” His shoulders wrench with it, spray coating the back of his hand. He teeters forward and catches himself with his other foot. 

A grin coils Odin’s face, like a serpent winding between his cheeks. “Fool,” he thrusts the spear into Loki’s chest, knocking him back so the wind rushes from his lungs. “Did you think I wouldn’t sense my own magic?”

Loki pushes himself up as the Odin glamour sloughs off of the King, revealing the younger, horned Loki, that vicious grin splashed across his face. 

Loki props himself up on his elbows and laughs. “Oh dear, did I truly think those looked good on me?”

The smile falters from King Loki’s face. “What are you? Some sort of clone?”

Loki pushes himself up to stand at full height, ignoring the twinges of pain in his ribs and back. “Listen,” he holds his palms up,  “I’m not here to interrupt your rule. In fact, I shall leave you to your plots--just let Thor live.” He gestures behind himself, “Send him out to the stars. He will seek the Infinity Stones and find nothing. I assure you.”

“Sentiment for our brother?” King Loki scoffs. “When did that come about?”

“Bit of a year from now.”

“I see,” King Loki descends the steps, cloak billowing around his boots. “Well, unfortunately I have no intention of letting Thor live. It has been brought to my attention that his life is a risk to mine. So, I shall end it.”

Loki’s heart speeds. “According to whom? HRFFF!” the staff of the spear catches Loki in the side, tossing him across the hall, air whooshing from his chest. 

“Do you honestly think I’ll stand here and monologue while you stall for Thor?”

Loki swears. He should have seen that coming. He pushes himself up and dodges another swing of the spear. It flies just above his face, making his hair rustle in its breeze. King Loki comes at him again, swiping the air with the spear. Loki dodges again. 

“Seriously?” Loki can’t help giving him a sarcastic lilt.  “Are you even trying?”

That pisses off King Loki. He sends five bolts of magic toward Loki. One catches him in the chest, but Loki is able to arc a spell to absorb the rest of the bolts. He splits himself into five illusions and tries to catch his breath.

A knife whistles through the air, catching one of the illusions, disintegrating it. Loki moves before he feels it--the sense of magic pressing around him. But he doesn’t move quite fast enough. A blade slips between his lower ribs and he hisses. 

He takes a knee, pressing a palm to the wound, fingers sticky with blood. King Loki laughs at him. He aims the spear at the injured Loki. Loki casts a miosis-like illusion split and rolls behind the throne, tucking himself in the corner as his clone mimics his injury. 

King Loki towers above the illusion and starts another annoying tirade about how doomed he is.

Loki wipes sweat from his brow and shivers. He just needs to catch his breath…then…

Ugh, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Loki had hoped to be done with this mission before the fugue of his illness affected his performance. 

He can feel the extra effort the fight is taking, fatigue weighing his bones, the ache of each movement, the weakness of his spells. The “hhh” the absolute utter nonsense of trying khhhh …not to…hh--

He covers his face with his entire palm, hoping to muffle the sound. “HXMSH!” Tears leak from his eyes, he can feel dampness coating his fingers as he hitches into another, “Hih..ieh-HxSSkk!” 

Loki has no time to react to the song of steel as the golden spear thumps against his throat. Loki coughs, chugging at the air, his wrist caught against the cold metal.

“Look at you,” King Loki spits from his left. “So weak! How did I let myself --”

THUNK!

Metal collides with metal as King Loki’s helmet flies askew by Mjöllnir. 

Stars, Loki has never felt so relieved to see that blasted hammer. 

The spear withdraws and Loki stumbles to the ground, hands splayed on the marble as he scoops air into his shriveled lungs. 

He tosses his head back to watch the scuffle. And scuffle it is. Thor isn’t giving it his all. They’re going to end up losing if King Loki uses either of them for leverage--which he most certainly will. 

Loki will not let it end like before. One more push. Come on.

His opening comes soon. King Loki uses the spear to blast Thor across the room. Loki slips behind him, dagger gripped in his hand. He grabs the false King and pushes the blade into the crook of his neck.

“Loki, no!” Thor cries out.

King Loki cackles. “He won’t do it. Kill himself?” Another maniacal laugh. “This is a ploy.”

“Wrong,” Loki breathes into his ear, feeling the edge of consciousness slipping from him. “We have spent our whole lives hating ourself. That’s what will make this so easy.”

He pulls the dagger across flesh and releases the false King to the ground.

The dagger clangs to the floor and Loki stumbles back. His side is slick with blood, his vision splotched with black ovals. He wings out an arm to catch himself on the wall. 

His fingers scrape at the wall futilely, attempting to blink the vertigo from his eyes, but he feels as though he’s spinning to the ground.

Arms link under his, thick and strong. His brother’s voice soothing in his ears, “Loki, I have you…”

Then it goes black. Silent. Warm…

Before Loki even opens his eyes, he can feel the aching throb of his muscles, his shoulders, his head. Ugh. The pounding of his head.

He groans and reaches to massage his temples. His throat is dry and his lips crack open, breath shivering from his lungs.

He sits up, pausing when his head spins. When he looks around he sees that he’s been taken to Thor’s room. Thor is not present though. A tray with soup and an herb pouch sit near the bed. Much as he would love that soup, Loki cannot stay. He needs to reset this timeline. And it would be better if he didn’t see Thor first.

Okay, it would be easier. 

Loki slips from the bed. Every movement rattles him, his arms and legs feel like lead. Standing is not easier. Loki wobbles on unsteady knees. He can feel tremors in his hands. 

“Loki?” Thor’s voice makes him turn to see his brother entering with a frown. “Tell me you are not planning to leave. Not yet.”

“I..” Loki’s voice cracks. He touches glowing fingers to his neck and clears it. “I’m afraid I must.”

“You’re quite ill, brother.”

“Not for the first time, I assure you.”

Thor cracks a smile. “Little Loki, always sick with something.”

Loki chuffs, “At least I do not whine and act a toddler when I fall ill.”

“I do not do that!” 

Loki folds his arms and laughs. 

Thor hands him the bag smelling of spices and herbs. “I know what Mother used, but you have to enchant it yourself.”

“Thank you…” Loki hefts the palm-sized bag, nostalgia’s grip like steel on his heart. 

Thor puts a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, Loki. Help me put things right.”

Loki sweeps out of Thor’s grip and wobbles to his feet. “I cannot, brother. Things have gone…awry. I have to fix them myself.” He tucks the herb pouch into his pocket. “I am sorry.” He flicks a knuckle under his nose, realizing his nose is dripping. 

He sniffles thickly, eyes flitting. His nose scrunches and he curls a knuckle under his nose. “Hhhh-iek…” 

Thor’s arm stretches out, offering a handkerchief. Loki snatches it and dives in, “IT’CHHZZieu! HTCHssss--ik!” he lets out a string of coughs, bending lower and lower over himself. Then a sigh pulls him upright, blinking away the fatigue. 

“Will you be alright, brother?” Thor asks.

“Of course,” Loki quips. “How many times must I come back from the dead before you believe I will survive a cold?”

Thor chuckles. “Keep that,” he points at the handkerchief. 

Loki looks down at it. “Hm. I’m surprised it was not only clean, but folded in your pocket, rather than crumpled on the training room floor.”

“I stopped doing that years ago!”

“Upon Mother’s insistence.”

“Hmph.”

Loki steps toward the door but Thor blocks him. 

“Loki, please--”

Loki places a hand on Thor’s arm. He looks into his brother’s eyes--eyes that will likely fill with hatred upon their next meeting.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Loki rears up and kicks him across the room. Surprised, Thor crashes into a table just as the stasis dome flashes over him.

Loki bites back a whimper as an invisible hand squeezes his insides. He forces himself to look away. He readies the tempad and reset charge.

He gives the room one last sweeping gaze. He looks at his brother, frozen in stasis. The version of Thor who might love him. “I hope to see you again, brother.” He balls up the cloth and tucks it in his pocket. Then he hits the button to reset the timeline.

Back at the TVA, Loki opens his desk and places the handkerchief next to the dozen other items gifted to him by his brother in a dozen timelines now erased. 

He melts into his chair, eyes lagging closed, finally able to rest.

Perhaps one day…he might return those items, in exchange for forgiveness.

[winters-mistress]

Cirilla's broken heart.

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

Everard! Gwain! Wake up!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" He frowns.

"How many did I kill?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would you like to know?"

"Yes, of course."

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

"And?"

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

"And that didn't work as well."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

"Bringing my brothers back. Thank you."

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

"Even still. Thank you."

Ciri closes her eyes, hiding back in his hair.

"Then what happened?"

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

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

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

"And her magic, is that back?"

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

"What'll happen to her?"

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

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

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

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

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

She sniffles.

"When did you speak?"

"When you were asleep, two days ago."

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

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

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

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seems like he doesn't have to.

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

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

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

"Where is she now?"

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

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

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

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

Ciri smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

Ciri smiles. And closes her eyes.

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

"I will, little one. Rest now."

[star55555]

My first ever sicfic tell me what you think!

Roman isn't usually like this. Which concerned me the most. He is usually that happy go lucky kind of guy that can put a smile on anybody's face, especially mine. He is the best man I have ever met and I can't believe we have been officially married for an entire week already and it has been nothing short of amazing. However, today when we woke up he didn't give me the usual kiss on the forehead, the hug, or even the morning "I love you". He got up and simply walked to the kitchen with not even something as little as a glance.

I followed Roman into the kitchen. His short blonde hair seemed to be sticking to his forehead as he appeared sweaty, but yet he had a sweatshirt on. He handed me a piece of toast, again still no eye contact or even a hint of a smile. This concerned me, but everybody gets grumpy so I decided to leave it be and make small talk.

"Good morning, love. What are we going to do today?"

He merely shrugged his shoulders and sat down slowly with a piece of plain toast.

Trying not to get irritated I finished my toast and headed to the living room where he surprised me by joining me on the couch and leaned against me. I was quite alarmed to feel that he was quite warm. I subtly stroked his forehead and found it to be burning up.

"Love, are you okay?" I asked him gently.

He looked back to me and finally spoke, "Sorry, I don't mean to be a downer I just not feeling to hot today."

"What's wrong?" I asked still stroking his forehead gently.

His stomach rumbled and he gently put a hand on it to settle it, "My stomach is hurting pretty bad, headache, and I feel really cold."

Not saying anything I just held him until he sat up and patted his lap for me to sit. I sat on his lap and hugged him gently.

His stomach rumbled angrily against my skin and I carefully massaged it. Every now and then he would burp quietly to himself.

"It really hurts..." He eventually made out.

His voice seemed so little and he was so cute like a little kid needing comfort, "I have you. Your okay."

I spoke gently.

He sat forward more and burped quietly again into his hand, but I could tell he was uncomfortable so I moved his hand away from his mouth and spoke softly, "No need for that just burp all you need."

He obeyed and burped into my shoulder. Each burp getting deeper and deeper. He moaned slightly and grabbed onto my arm covering his mouth.

He spoke hesitantly, "I-I think I'm gonna puke..."

I moved his hand again, "it's okay, I have you love."

He leaned forward and let out a burp and instantly wrapped his hands around his angry stomach. The burp smelled like a mixture of his breakfast and last nights dinner (pizza).

"I-m gonna be sick... but it hurts to much to move..." his voice shook and he burped deeply.

I instantly moved my hands under his mouth and spoke gently, "your okay, just get it up if you need to."

He burped again except this time he brought up some stomach bile and spit into my hands. He got a small breathe in before he gagged hard and burped up a stream of half digested pizza and toast into my palms.

He took a shaky breathe and I dumped the vomit off my hands onto the blanket to clean later. I carefully removed his shirt and told him to lean against me and to let it go.

He burped again this time he lunged forward and brought up more chunky liquid all down my back. He gagged and with each burp brought up more pizza and toast. He couldn't get a break. He gripped my sides and used my body to propel the vomit up and onto my back. Tears filled his eyes and he burped and gagged. He gently grabbed my hand and put it on his belly and managed to make out, "push...please..."

I gently pushed his belly and he groaned and I felt warm liquid on my crotch and realized he was vomiting so hard that he accidentally wet himself, but before he could register he jerked forward and vomited down my back once again.

My baby was so sick... I spoke to him gently, "Get it all up. Your okay. I'll clean you all up after. Just continue leaning on me. Don't worry about the mess. I'll be your bucket."

He finally caught a break and leaned against me exhausted. When I realized he fell asleep I gently got up and cleaned his vomit off of my back and got a washcloth to start cleaning him up. Chunks filled his lap and I opted to just pick them up one by one and throw them into a bag.

      Once I was done I sat next to him once again. My poor love. Letting him sleep I turned the TV on and started watching a show.

      About a half hour later he jolted awake and mumbled, "Sick...bucket?"

      I frowned, "right here, love" I patted my lap gently. A soft surface had to be more comfortable then a big plastic bin or bag. He carefully moved closer and leaned over my lap breathing heavily. Again, gripping onto me for support. I watched as his stomach contracted and he jerked forward with a forceful gag. Peeing himself more he kept gagging until a stream of pizza covered my lap. He took a small breathe before a deep burp came ofer him and his neck jerked back and forth with force as he brought up more and more chunks.

        When he finally caught a break I decided to help him move to the bathroom. I put my arm around his waist and gently we walked to the bathroom where I carefully unbuttoned his soiled pants and underwear and helped him into the shower. He was far to weak to stand so I helped him sit and lean against the bathtub wall.

With chunks all over his lips he mumbled softly, “Sit with me?”

I got in next to him and he leaned against me. He was still raging with fever.

He burped and his whole body jerked bringing up chunks all down the front of him and onto his crotch. Not caring that it would get on my hands I gently rubbed his stomach and pushed gently. This caused him to groan and burp again. This time bringing up visible pieces of pepperoni and toast all down himself and my hands. Each time his body jerked he continued to urinate more in the tub. He had absolutely no control of his body anymore.

“I-I think It’s gonna come out the other side…” he said turning red with embarrassment.

Realizing he meant diarrhea I gently put my hand on his belly and started rubbing in circles, “Its okay, my love. You will feel better soon. Do whatever you have to”

Right as I finished my sentence I felt a warm liquid and multiple wet farts on my legs. His stomach contracted under my fingers and I knew he was desperately trying to push all the sickness out. I continued rubbing circles on his belly and knowing his hind would soon start burning I grabbed a washcloth and started wiping him.

He whimpered and numbed, “uh oh…” and immediately leaned forward and started power vomiting onto his crotch which was enough force for his poor belly to eject explosive diarrhea as well. I just scooted closer and hugged him and he vomited and pooped. He would do the same if I were this sick.

After a minute, with no release I decided to get up in front of him and give him a hug rubbing him in any way I could to give him some kind of comfort. Thankfully he understood my efforts and grabbed my hands and vomited into them he time he leaned forward he would use my hands as a stabilizer. Once he was finished he fell back and fell asleep in the tub.

I turned some warm water on and hosed him down gently. He didn’t even flinch, he was to exhausted from all the fluids he had just lost.

2 hours later-

Roman slept like that for about 2 hours, and when he did officially wake up he needed to vomit. Unfortunately, however, he couldn’t. He felt empty. So I sat next to him once again and he grabbed my hand and put them into his mouth. Understanding, I got on his lap and crept my fingers towards the back of his throat until he started gagging bringing up bits of stomach acid. I put my fingers in further and brought up some chunks all over my chest and fingers.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Pesky Period Pains

Prompt: Cramping Pain

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: you had managed to stave off periods but you could only do that for so long. But its very hard to hide things in the compound especially from your girlfriends.

TW: pain medicine, blood, period, cramps, bleeding on the bed (idk if that a warning or not lol), non-sexual nudity, Reader has their clothes removed (not in a bad way though don’t worry … you’ll see), hiding injuries / sickness, slight angst,

A/n whats this? A fic without vomiting for once? Crazy.

Curled up in bed the day had been going well until you realised you took to long to get more of your birth control. Your doctor had put you on birth control in your early teens before you became and avenger, your cramps being too painful for you to function and resulting in you missing a-lot of school. But you ran out last week and your ADHD had been kicking your ass lately so you forgot about the much needed trip to the chemist. Thinking you could just go tomorrow as its not like your period would appear over night. wrong.

Nat and Wanda were training in the gym like they did every Tuesday while you slept in. But when you realised with the first pang of pain in your midsection that it was a little too late for the birth control to stave off the period pains, you groaned. stuffing your face back into your pillow, before swallowing the urge to scream in frustration. you got up and threw on a pad before getting dressed quickly. you were craving chocolate. you could survive the cramps until after breakfast, and you couldn’t take painkillers on an empty stomach.

you had just finished drowning your pancakes in chocolate syrup and were not throwing back the tablets and some water when your girlfriends arrived. Nat smiled widely and came over to kiss you and hug you. “Detka,” you groaned, “your all gross and sweaty.” nat squeezed you in the hug chuckling before planting a kiss on your forehead. Wanda didn’t seem as happy. she sensed your discomfort before she even made it into the door. to be honest she sensed it from the gym, feigning exhaustion in favour of ending training early to check on you.

“what were you doing before we got here?” Wanda asked, hands crossed over her chest.

“making pancakes.” you shrugged, hiding a grimace as it jostled your midsection.

“i saw you put something in your mouth, Y/n don’t lie to me.” she was more concerned than angry but it did come across that way to you.

“i. was. eating. my. pancakes. Wanda.” you grit out, glad it seemed more like annoyance than the fact another cramp had hir rather hard.

“whatever.” Wanda dismissed angrily walking to get herself some pancakes. Nat frowned, normally Wanda was really sweet with you, only ever stern if you were being stubborn. she shrugged at you and followed Wanda to get some breakfast, only having had her pre workout shake so far. you didn’t wait for them, quickly finishing your pancakes and going to take a shower.

the girls frowned at your empty place when they returned and Wanda sighed. “somethings up with her nat i can sense it.”

meanwhile you stepped under the warm water, watching the red circle the drain and letting the heat relax your muscles. when another cramp hit you rested your head on your arm which steadied you against the wall. you didn’t want to risk leaving blood in your shared bathroom knowing nat was see it with her spy training, she noticed everything. Wanda would just freakout if she knew you were bleeding but didn’t know where from. And most importantly you didn’t want to bother them with your problems, feeling you were being a bit too needy lately having been sick the week before last.

you had come back to your old room, the one you stayed in before moving it with your girls. it was still your space. your gaming computer was still here, your switch and all your drawing stuff and tablet. your posters of Percy Jackson and your girlfriends still adorned the walls and the rainbow lights still worked above your desk. the bed had black sheets and you even still had some of your clothes in here. your many sketchbooks sat on the floating shelf by the desk and your blue couch and fluffy red blanket were still in the corner. the 84inch tv, courtesy of tony was mounted on the wall opposite the bed and you had painted a mural of the city scape on the far wall. it was as much your home as the room across the hall. your girls often found you in here during the day either drawing or gaming.

but you hadnt showered in here since moving to sleep over the hall. nat heard the running water as she went past, assuming you had done it so she could shower after her training this morning, she shrugged it off. unusual but not insane.

once you turned the water off you carefully towel dried yourself trying to avoid getting blood on the fluffy towel. getting dressed in fluffy pants and your oversized red hoodie nat had bought you at Disneyland, the one with the big picture of Mickey mouse on the front, you went and laid on the bed. after mindlessly scrolling through Netflix and putting on a random movie you snuggled up. after a few minutes the exhaustion of your body rebuilding an organ wiped you out and you fell asleep.

Wanda carefully opened the door to your room. frowning at yhe sight of you curled up asleep in the middle of the day. this was unlike you. the tv had an action movie playing and the sound of gunfire should have woken you up, but you slept on. Wanda turned out the lights and muted the tv before going to talk to nat.

“I’m telling you nat something’s off, shes been acting weird all day.”

“I’m sure shes fine, shes a big girl wands.” nat sighed drying her hair with a towel.

“i don’t know, you know how it is when shes hurt, she wont tell us even if shes bleeding out on the floor.” Wanda huffed pacing and running her hands through her hair.

“why don’t we go cuddle up to her in bed and we’ll talk to her when shes up again?”

“ok” Wanda sighed in defeat.

after carefully lifting the sheets and sliding in either-side of you nat took the tv remote frowning at the cheesy action movie.

“you cant even shoot arrows like that in real life.” she grumbled putting on something that Wanda would like. a sit com.

still asleep you curled up around Wanda’s leg as she lent against the headboard and ran her hands through your hair.

“she looks so fragile when she sleeps natty.” Wanda cooed

“thats because its hard to be a cocky asshole when your sleeping.” nat teased. but it wasn’t fun without your sharp come backs to quip against her.

“naaattt leave her alone shes cute when she sleeps.” looking down at you she noticed a grimace on your face when you held onto her leg tighter. thinking you were having a nightmare she went to wake you. unbeknownst to her it was just the medicine having worn off and the painfully cramps coming back full force. before Wanda could gently wake you, you shot up, blinking rapidly before feeling the wetness of the bed and shooting off the bathroom to change clothes. Wanda and nat frowned at each-other, you hadn’t even noticed them. nat hopped up and knocked on the door.

“y/n/n? can i come in?” she asked. you froze. what were they doing here.

“Y/n/n?” nat asked again.

“natty… um you should come here.” Wanda quietly said from the bed. she had pulled back the sheets to find a wet bloodstain on the sheets. Nat’s eyes widened almost comically.

“y/n let us in right now.” she banged her fists on the door. just as she swung to knock the door down you opened it, her foot stopping mid air as she tried not to kick you or fall over. at the sight of your bloody clothes she jumped into action. extending your arms with her hands she searched your body before stopping and looking you dead in the eyes.

“strip.” she said. you balked.

“what?”

“you heard me. strip. or i’ll have Wanda use her wiggly woos to do it for me.”

“natty-“

“No.”

“wands-“

“I’m with nat on this one sweetheart. we need to know your ok.” Wanda cooed softly having walked in behind nat.

“I’m fi-“

“if you were going to say your fine we found your blood on the sheets. so we know your not.”

before you were able to reply you were hit with a rather painful cramp that made you double over in an attempt to stop the pain. you groaned loudly and both your girls sprung into action. they knew you didn’t get periods so that couldn’t be it. but the last mission was weeks ago and you hadn’t left the compound without them since. so how did you get hurt? Nat was at your side in an instance. “y/n/n baby where does it hurt?” she ran a hand down your back up and down your spine. you merely groaned in response still hunched over.

“wands I’m gonna need you to-“

“don’t worry it got it.” she replied. before you could think you felt the cold air hit as you were suddenly without clothes. Nat’s eyes grew wide as she saw the red between your legs. you felt tears slide down your cheeks as the girls understood. they had seen you naked before so it didn’t bother you plus you knew you were safe with your girlfriends.

“oh sweetheart.” Wanda cooed, picking you up. “did you get your period love?”

more tears fell as she carried you bridal style to the bath. with a wave of her wrist there was warm water in the tub and her clothes were also gone. gently she hopped in placing you curled up in her lap. nat removed her clothes to show toned muscle and slipped in beside her. it was a big tub, tony was not one to spare expenses much to peppers dismay when she first brought home Morgan to find a car already with custom plates with Morgan’s name on it in the garage.

“tony what the hell is this?” she had asked pointing to the car, Morgan’s carseat in her hand.

“well its called planning my dear wife.”

“planning is writing it out on paper not buying it 16 years early.”

Wanda chuckled at the memory before focusing back on your. she carded a hand though your hair and you whined softly.

“gonna made the water dirty.” you whined “and i ruined my hoodie.” you sniffled “the one you and natty bought me from disneyland.” you cried. nat rubbed a circle on your back knowing this was the work of pesky hormones but doing nothing to invalidate your feelings. Wanda smiled down at you.

“why are you smiling.” you sobbed.

“oh sweetheart do you forget i have magic sometimes.” Wanda cooed

“oh.” you hiccuped.

“its already clean and folded on the bed which has fresh sheets.” she started kissing you all over your face, tasting the salty tears. “and natty and I will buy you ten more if we need to. anything for our sweet girl.”

“even the goofy one?” you smiled looking up with teary eyes.

nat chuckled. they were so whipped for you. “anything you can ever dream of of my love.” nat cooed. “and whatever we can buy with the new black master-card i have from tony.”

“how-“ you were going to ask how but another cramp hit and tears flooded your eyes as blood swirled in the bathwater.

“oh sweetheart don’t cry.” Wanda cooed seeing the water was making you upset she waved her hand and the blood disappeared from the water.

“honey i wouldn’t care if the bath was 100% blood as long as your ok. i would do anything for you.”

“we.” nat corrected “we would do anything for you.” Wanda rubbed circles over your stomach and her fingers glowed a soft red hue in the bath water as she took away some of the pain for you. you sighed in relief at her magic touch.

“and to answer your question, all it took was a little blackmail.” you laughed at her smirk.

“come one love lets get you washed up.”

when Wanda had finished scrubbing your body clean for you, you were too tired to do it yourself. nat dried you with a towel and slipped you back into your comfy and now, thanks to Wanda, clean clothes.

curling up in bed with nat, Wanda returned with food for all of you and a mountain of all different kinds of chocolate and popcorn.

“I vote we have a movie day today.” Wanda proposed. nat smiled at you and brushed the hair from your face, “id love that” she agreed “ what about you Y/n/n?”

“only if i get lots of hugs.” you mumbled in an embarrassed way that made the redheads hearts skip a beat.

“alright then.” wand climbed in beside you and put down the tray of food. “you get first pick Y/n/n” Wanda grinned and nat passed you the remote.

“here you go” you took it and placed a chocolate in your mouth. going to reach for another Wanda lightly slapped your hand away.

“food first.” she chided softly. you pouted and picked a movie. after the first 20 minutes or so you hd finished lunch and were happily curled in the arms of your girls munching chocolate. maybe you should get your period more often you thought. then another cramp hit making you keen softly. never-mind you thought. Wanda ran her magic fingers over you lower back and the pain stopped. you knew then and there your girls would always be there. you were never going to be alone again.

MASTERLIST

[rastro-writes]

Twilight and Sky sickfic for @majorproblems77

Today was one problem after another. First, they got separated going through a portal. Annoying enough, if not for the rainstorm they got dumped into when they were separated.

Wild and Sky had been dumped in the middle of what was probably a forest, but the heavy rain turned the entire forest floor into a muddy swamp.

Not new for Wild, but disastrous for Sky. Luckily, Twilight found them after a few hours, and led them back into a cave where Hyrule had managed to build a meager fire of wet sticks. Unluckily, Sky was already red faced and Twilight was shaking. They both caught colds.

“We can’t just stay here, we have to move, I can still find the others-“ Twilight started.

“Twilight,” Hyrule started in his bell-like tone, “if you even so much as try to leave this cave in your condition, I’m going to break both your legs and tie you into that bedroll like a misbehaving puppy, got it?”

Holy Hylia, Rulie, what the heck are your puppies like?!

“Hey Rulie? Can I have some water? My mouth is really dry.” Sky rasped. Wild hurriedly to give him a canteen.

“There you go, Sky. Slowly, now. No rush. There’s plenty more, you don’t need to hurry.” Wild reassured him.

“Thanks Wild. Sorry for being such a bother.” Sky grumbled.

“Hey, don’t be like that, you’re going to get well again and everything will be fine.” Wild comforted.

“I just feel useless like this, like I can’t do anything.”

“You’re trying to do everything, and stress out when you can’t, then if you get hurt, then you stress even more. Sky, we love you for you, not for what you can do for us. Please, take care of yourself too.”

“Wild… thank you” Sky sniffled. Wild isn’t sure if the snot is emotional snot, or congestion snot.

“Anytime, Sky. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to stop Hyrule from breaking Twi’s legs…” he looked over and sure enough, Hyrule had gone seemingly feral, hissing, whacking, and grabbing at Twilight who was half up and trying for the cave exit.

He did like the idea of tying him into the bedroll, at least…

Hope you feel better soon @majorproblems77

[babie-angelle]

If I were to write a sicfic for any kpop fandom, which one are you guys interested in?

The kpop groups I'm most familiar with (in terms of personality and dynamics) are BTS, Le Sserafim and TWICE. The kpop groups that I know and can do more research for are Seventeen, Stray Kids, BlackPink, Iz*One, TXT, G(I)-DLE, Red Velvet, Aespa, ATEEZ and P1Harmony.

There is a serve lack of sicfics in the kpop fandom in general (especially Canon Compliant ones) and I would love to write some of my own, as well as answering requests.

[ravenmccookies]

Hello I'm feeling ill and instead of resting I wrote this

[always-anxious612]

Close Calls Ch. 2

This is the last chapter of this but I may do more of this au in the future! Also please don't judge me for my accuracy lol. I only did surface-level research on wounds and infections :')

Description: The infection grows more serious, and Virgil has to drag Roman to the clinic before it gets any worse. Unfortunately, he doesn't quite succeed. In other words, Roman is stubborn, Virgil is tired, and everything goes wrong.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality

Warnings: panic attack, injuries mentioned, infections, homophobia menntioned, crying (let me know if I missed something or if you want something tagged!)

Word Count: 5,360

Chapter 1

The next day, I woke up a bit late, and, after hurriedly getting ready, began my duties as usual hoping Logan wouldn’t notice I was late. Logan was already in the clinic, as always, but this time Lord Patton was there as well. Thankfully, his presence saved me from a lengthy lecture. Patton was a well-known Lord in the castle, famous for his kindness and friendliness. Plus, he and Roman were pretty close as far as I could tell. Well, as close as a visiting Lord and a prince who only saw each other in formal spaces could be, I guess. They seemed to get along well is what I’m trying to say. Everyone at the castle loved him, though to be honest. Recently, I’d noticed he’d been visiting the castle more frequently and staying for longer periods of time, making a point to visit the clinic and say hello when he did. It had gotten to the point where he insisted that I call him Patton and drop the formalities while we were in the clinic. Logan had seemed to drop the formalities with him long ago.

“Um, good morning, my Lord,” I greeted Patton, still not quite being able to break the habit quite yet and trying to run a hand through my hand to make my bedhead more presentable. What so sue me, I didn’t have time to fix it that morning. I’d been up all night worrying about a certain prince.

“Oh, hi, Virgil! Good morning!” Patton grinned brightly. Ugh, how did he have so much energy so early in the day. I’d never understand morning people.

“I told you to just call me Patton, kiddo. No need to be so formal,” he added, coming over to ruffle my hair. Welp, guess fixing it had been pointless. Sometimes, I wondered if he knew we were the same age or if he just called everyone kiddo. From what I knew of him it was probably the latter.

“Um, right, so uh, is everything ok?” I questioned, awkwardly clearing my throat. “I—I mean, you’re not sick or anything, right?”

Sure, he’d been showing up here for a while now on his visits, but it never hurt to make sure. This was a clinic after all.

“Oh, no, no,” Patton assured, walking back over to Logan. “Just checking up on my two favorite physicians!”

“I’m still a nurse, technically,” I reminded him, though I couldn’t help but relax at his friendliness.

“Oh, Virgil, I meant to tell you. Today, you have the day off,” Logan finally spoke up, looking up from the papers he had been flipping through on his desk. So much for worrying about being late…Wait what?

“The day off?” I blanched. “But you always say that a doctor’s work is never done.”

I truly couldn’t remember a single day off since I’d started working here unless it was for medical reasons—ironic really.

“Ah, yes, well, Patton has expressed an interest in my profession, and I thought I’d take today to teach him a few things,” Logan replied, blushing slightly. Strange, Logan didn’t blush very easily…. I glanced at Patton and raised an eyebrow, trying not to jump to conclusions. If Logan understood what I was hinting at, he promptly ignored me, and I squashed down the thought. It wasn’t my business anyway, especially considering my own circumstances.

“If an emergency arises, I shall send for you, but soon, I’ll be taking Patton on my rounds to teach him to deal with less, um, life-threatening injuries and illnesses. You’re welcome to stay in the clinic if you’d like, but in case you need to find me, my list of patients to visit for today will be on my desk,” he instructed, clearing his throat.

“Oh, um, ok,” I muttered, already inching toward the door, “See ya later then, I guess. Bye Lo. Uh, Patton,”

I nodded a goodbye to both of them and waited until Patton had smiled and waved cheerily and Logan just nodded back to make my escape. Well, this gave me a chance to check on Roman at least.

Once I got up the many stairs and reached Roman’s room, I took a minute to catch my breath and look around before knocking. You’d think I’d be more used to making that trip by now.

“Um, your highness?” I called when I received no answer to my knock, glancing around again, just to be sure. When I still received no answer, I decided it was safe to just go in. Maybe he didn’t hear me?

“Roman?” I called after I made sure the door was closed behind me. Roman was standing by his window, studying the lush gardens outside, but he made no move to greet me.

“Princey?” I tried again, growing more concerned by the minute.

“Oh, Virgil!” He finally exclaimed, turning around a bit unsteadily. Huh, well that didn’t seem good.

“Uh, hey there, Roman. You doing ok?” I asked, already trying to examine him. His forehead was slick with sweat, and—though it looked like he had tried to cover it with makeup—I could see how flushed he was from across the room.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m perfectly ok, V,” he smiled, as I came closer. The closer I got the worse he looked. His eyes were glazed, and he looked a little out of it, constantly rubbing at his eyes. Plus, other than the badly concealed flush of his cheeks, he was concerningly pale.

“Really,” I deadpanned.

“Yes, really. You’re only a tad bit blurry!” he asserted before cursing as he realized he’d just given himself away, “It’s really not that bad. I’m fine.”

“Wha—Roman, that’s not fine,” I chastised, hurrying the rest of the way over to him as he blinked sluggishly. “Can you make it to your bed?” “No, because I do not need to be in my bed,” he waved me off nervously.

“Roman,” I growled, grabbing his arm.

“Truly, Virgil, I’m completely fine,” Roman insisted, pulling at my grip.

“Obviously,” I retorted when he failed to get his arm back, “Just drop the act so I can help you. I need to see exactly what’s going on.”

“No,” He snapped yanking away from me, “I said I’m fine. I-I have an important meeting with the council to attend about the raids. So, if you’re done, I need to be on my way. Good day, Virgil,”

“Don’t you dare, Roman,” I threatened as he made his way shakily to the door.

“Listen, just—just make an excuse. You’re the prince. I’m sure you can postpone the meeting.”

“It’s not my meeting. My father called it, and he’s expecting me. I’m very sorry, Virgil, but I have to go,”

Ah, so that’s how it was. If this involved his father, it was going to be a whole lot harder to convince him to skip.

Roman had made it into the hallway and halfway toward the staircase by the time I collected my thoughts and made it to the doorway. However, I didn’t miss the fact that he was hugging the wall the whole way there.

“Roman—er, your highness—” I cleared my throat, looking around quickly. It was strangely empty. Whatever, it would be a lot more trouble if I got caught with Roman looking like this than for not addressing him properly, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.  

“Roman, please. You can’t do this. You can barely stand up straight, much less last through a whole meeting,” I begged. Roman straightened slightly but otherwise kept walking making me tsk.

When he reached the staircase, he turned to glance at me before straightening once again and disappearing down the stairs. Groaning at his stubbornness, I hurried after him.

“Roman?” I called, getting worried when I turned the corner and didn’t see him. I made it a little over halfway down the winding staircase before finding Roman, leaning against the wall and panting. How the hell had he moved so fast and gotten so far ahead in this condition?

“Ro?” I asked hesitantly, eyes flicking over his slouched posture and glassy expression.

“May—Maybe I don’t feel so great,” He muttered before sliding unceremoniously down the wall.

“Princey,” I gasped, grabbing his arm and part of his shirt to keep him from toppling down the stairs.

“Hey, hey, Roman, are you ok?” I questioned, shifting to get a better hold on him and pinning him back against the wall. Roman mumbled a response too quiet to hear as his eyes fluttered.

“No no no no. Roman, stay awake, ok? Stay with me. We’re still on the staircase, I can’t get—I don’t—ugh, damn it, Roman. I’m not strong enough to carry you back up. Why didn’t you just listen to me,” I muttered, starting to panic.

It’s ok, it’s ok, I started coaching myself, taking deep breaths as I tried not to launch into a full-blown panic attack. just take a deep breath and think. It’s not that bad, I blatantly lied to myself, trying not to even entertain the thought of what would happen if someone chose this moment to walk down the staircase. I could do this, right? I could—I could at least get him to the clinic if not back to his room. That was better anyway. He needed medical care that wasn’t me, and besides, going downstairs would be easier than going up, right? At least that’s what I hoped…

I was wrong. Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this was easier than going upstairs, but if that were true, I dreaded to think how going upstairs would be. After I had convinced Roman to finally let me take him to the clinic—as if I was really giving him a choice this time or that he was alert enough to fight back anyway—I found myself carrying a delirious, semi-conscious Prince on my back. Unfortunately, no matter what direction you go, trying to navigate stairs with a whole person on your back is rather difficult.

“Remind me—to—to kill you—after I make sure—you’re ok,” I huffed, out of breath and already sweating. Roman didn’t reply, concerning me even more. How had he gotten so sick just overnight? It had to be the infection, right?

After what felt like ages, I reached the clinic and almost sagged in relief.

“Logan?” I gasped, kicking open the door. At this point, Roman was completely unresponsive and slack against me, making it even harder to keep him on my back. I quickly laid him on the clinic bed and frantically looked around for Logan before realizing he was probably already on his rounds.

“Are you kidding me,” I grumbled, going to grab a damp towel for Roman’s forehead. The whole point of risking bringing him here instead of to his room was that I didn’t know what to do.

Huffing, I gathered some bandages and supplies to check on Roman’s wound again. That’s really the only thing I could think of that could be causing this. Did the infection get worse? Just how bad? When I got the bandages from yesterday off, I hissed in sympathy. Just as I had feared, the infection was much worse. It—This whole thing was beginning to feel like my fault. If I’d done better cleaning and stitching it. If I’d noticed that he was developing a fever yesterday. If I’d convinced him to come to Logan. If—If…I took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts to focus on what I should do now. My hands trembled as I began thoroughly cleaning and sterilizing the infected area. At least there were actual supplies in the clinic, I guess.

            After I cleaned it, I set to work quickly, gently rubbing some antibiotic cream over the infection and making sure the stitches were ok. I’d have to make sure to change his bandages more often and to keep it clean so this wouldn’t happen again or get any worse. Next, I grabbed a cup of water and some medicines that should help with both the fever and the infection. This was the only other thing I could think of doing. The infection didn’t seem severe enough to have to remove it surgically or anything, but I’d be sure to ask Logan when he came back. The thought of him seeing how horribly I’d messed this up made me sick to my stomach, especially when the prince was the patient; but I knew it would be much worse if I didn’t get his help.

Sighing, I brought the medicine over to Roman and sat on the edge of the bed

“Princey,” I whispered, nudging his arm. Roman groaned and groggily batted my hand away.

“Come on, Princey, I need you to take these,” I coaxed softly, ignoring his swat and shaking him again. This time, he managed to squint his eye open.

“Do wha’?” he slurred tiredly.

“Take these pills, Ro. They’ll help.”

“M-My father. I have to—” he remembered suddenly, trying to push himself up and ignoring the offered pills.

“No,” I responded curtly, pushing him back down gently, “Your father can wait. I’ll even help you make up an excuse. Or you know, I’ll have Logan write you a medical note to prove that you have a fever and are not fit for work today. You—You passed out, Roman, I think that warrants skipping the meeting. Lean back and take these. Please.”

Roman sighed heavily but did as he was told and took the pills and water from me. His easy compliance told me all I needed to know about how badly he must be feeling.

After he gulped down the rest of the water, he ended up passing out again, leaving me to sit and wait by myself. Logan’s rounds usually took about two and a half to three hours because of the amount of soldiers the castle housed. More soldiers meant more injuries to check up on, and on days were the infirmary wasn’t full, or when the clinic was slow, Logan took his time to personally visit and check on every one of them. That’s not even mentioning the other castle staff that he’d tend to when illness spread throughout the castle or the fact that he had earned the title of royal physician, meaning that he also took care of not only the royal family but also any visiting noble staying in the castle. Needless to say, he had a lot of patients, and though he had other physicians and nurses that would regularly come and help him, especially when there was an influx, he usually preferred to work alone when he could. Today, no one was scheduled to be in the clinic, and no one was in the infirmary, so I knew Logan would be taking his time. With Patton there, it would probably take him even longer. He loved any opportunity to teach.

Sighing once again, I went to stand to get some water for myself when something warm clamped around my wrist.

“Roman?” I questioned, turning to find his hand holding me back. “Is something wrong?”

He grunted softly before yanking me forward, almost causing me to trip onto him.

“Cuddle,” he mumbled before I could yell at him. I felt my face flush bright red at his request.

“R-Roman, you know we can’t,” I protested, trying to pull away.

“Virgil,” Roman pouted, gazing up at me blearily, “Please?”

“We’re—We’re not in your room, Ro. Someone could walk in.”

“Please?” he begged, already struggling to keep his eyes open. I bit my lip hesitantly. He didn’t look far from falling asleep again. Maybe I could just cuddle long enough to get him to sleep then slip out before anyone could see us. Besides, it wasn’t as if anybody but me and Logan usually came into the clinic when it was closed anyway, and Logan was out on his rounds.

“Fine,” I gave in reluctantly as Roman smiled victoriously and scooted over to make room for me.

I couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped my lips once I was settled in his arms, making sure to be careful of his wound. It was just so warm and comforting, and the way he was playing with my hair…I absentmindedly snuggled into his chest and let the warmth numb my mind. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worried about Roman—apparently for good reason. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt, right? Besides, I was sure Logan wouldn’t be back for at least a couple of hours, and he was always complaining about the dark circles under my eyes and telling me to get more sleep. He should be happy I’m finally taking his advice. Unfortunately, my brain was too tired and too content to remind me just how bad an idea it was to let my guard down out in the open like this. Roman’s now steady breaths lulled me deeper into comfort and I felt myself slipping. It was so warm. This is nice, my mind almost sighed as I slid into sleep with Roman’s arms still wrapped securely around me. I should really learn to listen to my instincts more…

I was pulled from that warmth a little bit later by a rough nudge to my arm. Thinking it must be Roman, I groaned and shoved the arm away. The nudging paused and I was about to go back to sleep when there was another nudge—softer this time—followed by a voice.

“Virgil, you should probably get up.”

Oh. That—That wasn’t Roman’s voice. In an instant I shot up, inhaling sharply as I saw Logan and Patton peering down at me. No, oh no, no no no, how could I have let this happen? I should have never fallen asleep. I always harped on Roman for doing things that could get us caught but this was all my fault. What should I do? What could I do? Both of them had always been kind to me, but there was no telling how they’d react to this. Were they going to be angry? Were they disgusted with me? Were—Were they going to report me? What about Roman? I couldn’t let anything happen to him because of my carelessness. As my thoughts swirled around me, it became harder to draw air into my lungs. Once I realized that I couldn’t breathe, my chest constricted, holding back more of my breath. If it tightened anymore, I feared it would be impossible to breath altogether, but I couldn’t seem to collect my thoughts enough to loosen the knot there. My hands shook as I hugged myself, willing my panicked thoughts to go away. Obviously, it didn’t work. I saw motion from the corner of my eye and realized Logan was talking to me. Had he been talking this whole time?

“Virgil,” he coached, “Virgil, do you think you can take a breath in? Follow my breathing, ok?” more movement, to my left this time, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I tried to follow along; I really did. But every breath hurt. Everything hurt. My throat was burning. My chest ached. My head pounded. And everything was going wrong. Everything that I feared was happening. We’d been discovered. I ruined it. We couldn’t—I couldn’t—we just…half formed thoughts plagued my mind and my breath hitched as I realized I was crying. Was I going to be executed for this? 

“Virgil, dearest. Look at me, my love,” a different voice spoke up this time, but there was only one person who called me dearest and my love. I felt a hand touch my cheek hesitantly, then gently tilt my face until I was face to face with Roman.

“I need you to breath with me, Virge,” he instructed, calmly. “In for four seconds. Hold for seven. Out for eight, remember? You can do it.”

As he counted out the seconds, he removed his hand from my face in order to take my hand and press it against his chest. I struggled to follow along at first, but he continued breathing deeply and counting the seconds until I could. With Roman’s reassurances and guidance, I slowly felt myself relaxing.

Once the world came into focus again and I could breathe regularly without feeling like I was dying, I took one more deep breath before slouching forward into Roman’s chest.

“It’s alright, V,” Roman soothed, carding his fingers through my hair. Except, it wasn’t ok. Logan and Patton saw us. They know. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up and see if they were still standing there or if they’d already gone to report us to the king. The silence in the room made me inclined to believe the latter. I loved Logan, but he was very strict with the rules. There’s no way he’d let something as big as this slide. I was just another nurse, right? Instead, I sniffled and buried myself further into Roman’s chest.

“Oh, your shirt,” I lamented shakily, brushing my fingers against the wet spot that now stained the expensive fabric.

“It’s nothing, stormcloud,” Roman hushed, pulling me closer. I felt more tears burn my eyes at the action.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle uncomfortably in my chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dearest,” Roman assured softly. Liar. How could he say that when I was the reason we’d never get to see each other again.

“Um, pardon me for interrupting, my prince, but I believe this tea may help Virgil,” Logan’s voice offered softly from behind me making me jump. He was still here? Wait, he didn’t sound angry or disgusted. “Ah, um, thank you,” Roman responded, accepting the tea.

Taking a steadying breath, I finally pushed myself away from Roman’s chest. Roman handed me the tea before placing his arms loosely around my waist. I looked at the tea then hesitantly back to Logan. Patton stood behind him, worry swimming in his eyes. What was going on exactly?

“The tea helps to calm the heart rate and I find it to be quite helpful when I’m feeling stressed,” Logan explained awkwardly when I didn’t make any move to drink it. Nodding warily, I took a sip, relishing the calming warmth that flooded me when I did.

“Um, I also would like to apologize, Virgil. I did not realize that waking you would cause such a reaction. I should have been more careful,” Logan continued after a short but tense silence. At his apology, I couldn’t take it anymore. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

“Aren’t—Aren’t you gonna say something? A-About this?” I stammered out, hating how raspy and shaky my voice sounded.

“What would you like me to say, Virgil?”

I blanched at him, then glanced back at Roman who looked equally confused as I felt.

“I—Aren’t you, d-disgusted or—or something?” I pressed incredulously.

“Why would I be disgusted?” Logan questioned, tilting his head. I mirrored his look of confusion before setting my tea down lest I spill it with how much I was still shaking.

“By—By us? Or—I mean—m-maybe not disgusted but, you know, this isn’t really…accepted. I-I mean don’t you think it’s—wrong or something? I mean we’re both—and on top of that, I’m just a—I—”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted before I could work myself up too much, “I would never be disgusted by this. Any of it. By you both being of the same gender, or by you being from different social classes. I—You know that I’m your friend, right? And that I would never report you or anything? Even if I were against it, I couldn’t do that to you. I would never do that to you.”

At my shocked expression, Logan’s shoulders slumped.

“I take it you didn’t know any of that,” he sighed, looking even more miserable as I shook my head.

“I suppose that’s on me, then,” he frowned remorsefully.

“Lo,” I started, suddenly feeling guilty for ever doubting him. I never would have dreamed that he considered me a friend. I thought I was just another apprentice. He’s had plenty before me…

“No, no, I should have made it clear that I care for you,” Logan insisted. “Let me make it clear now.”

I shut my mouth and nodded for him to continue.

“Virgil, I have considered you a friend for a while now, and if you’d like, I’d still like to consider you one,”—he paused and I nodded frantically at the offer before he smiled and continued—“I care for you and your well-being very much, and I would never wish harm on you. I have no intention of ever reporting you as long as the current king is in rule. His methods and punishments tend to be a little cruel, and I never want to see you hurt. Nor will I report you for something that shouldn’t even be considered a crime. If Prince Roman is the one you love and you are the one he loves, then I support you fully. You cannot help who you fall in love with. If it is mutual and consenting, then there shouldn’t be a problem, social class or gender be damned.”

“That’s right, kiddo,” Patton spoke up stepping forward, startling me. I’d kind of forgotten he was there. I was really not on my game with being vigilant today.

“I won’t report you either. It’d be a little hypocritical of me if I did,” He smiled, shooting a quick glance to Logan. I wanted to ask him to elaborate on that last part but decided against it. I was pretty sure I got the hint, and again, it wasn’t really my business anyway.

“And I know that I haven’t known you nearly as long as Logan, but I’d like to be your friend as well if you’d like,” Patton continued, shooting me a beaming smile. I returned his smile hesitantly, though mine wasn’t nearly as big or bright. I don’t think I could fully comprehend what was happening right now. This was certainly not how I thought things would be going. Just a few minutes ago, I’d been getting ready to say goodbye to Roman forever.

“Ok, um, we—we can be friends, if, uh, you really want to,” I nodded, snorting as Patton bounced in place a bit and nodded happily. He was always so excitable, I couldn’t help but grin.

“You—You really won’t report us?” Roman assured, arms tightening around me slightly, “Either of you?”

“Of course not, My Prince,” Logan confirmed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness,” Patton chimed in.

“Please, just Roman is fine.”

Patton grinned at him and nodded, while Logan just raised an eyebrow.

“Alright then, now that that’s been settled, may I ask what you two are doing in the clinic in the first place? Is something wrong?” Logan inquired, studying the two of us.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s a bit risky to be cuddling out in the open like this, even if it was pawsitively adorable,”—Patton giggled at his own pun— “Wouldn’t it be safer in your room, Roman? Or somewhere hidden?”

“Ah, well—” I glanced back at Roman and at his reluctant nod, began explaining.

“Princey, er, Roman sneaked off to take part in stopping the raid on the nearby town and came back with a stab wound. He wouldn’t let me take him to you, Lo, trust me I tried,” I grumbled, taking a second to glare at Roman which he promptly ignored, “so, I tried to tend to it myself. I, uh, I guess I didn’t do very well. It got infected. Then I tried to fix it, but when I went to check on him this morning it was even worse, and he had a fever and ended up passing out. I managed to get him here and tried the best I could with mending it an everything, but uh, if you could take a look…”

Logan nodded at my request, and I scrambled out of Roman’s lap as he bent down to pull up his shirt. He quickly undid the bandages I’d wrapped and started examining it, asking what medications and ointments I’d used as he went.

“Well, you’ve done a remarkable job at cleaning the infection as far as I can tell. You gave him all the correct medicines and ointments as well. The stitching is also very well done. Keep in mind, Virgil, that the infection may not have been caused by you or by improper care. It could be internal body bacteria, or the fact that you did the stitches in an unsterilized environment under what sounds like not ideal conditions. All things considered, you did everything right,” Logan commended before leaning back and turning to address both me and Roman. I felt the knot in my chest lessen even more at his words even as I blushed at the praise.

“All you can do now is monitor the infection and keep it clean and dry and change the bandages often. Also be sure to avoid scratching at the stitches. They may begin to itch, especially because of the infection. I’d recommend avoiding heavy physical labor that could stretch or break the stitches as well. If you need an excuse, come find me and I’ll be more than happy to write you a note or talk to your father myself. You’ve suffered a very bad fever after all, even collapsing from it. I’m sure I could convince him you need bedrest,” he instructed, smiling softly at both of us. I blinked at him, pretty sure I’d never seen him smile so genuinely before. Huh. Today was full of surprises.

“Oh, also, take these pills for the next week, your Highness. Your fever seems to have gone down quite a bit, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll have Virgil keep up with your infection as he’s done an excellent job already and I’m sure you’d both prefer that.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman nodded, returning Logan’s smile and taking the pills that he offered.

“And I’ve told you a million times to just call me Roman.” He added with a huff.

“And I’ve told you a million times that it’s unprofessional to address you as such,” Logan tsked, sighing as he quickly re-bandaged his wound.

“Well then don’t do it as a professional do it as a friend,” Roman shot back, making Logan pause. He slowly finished up the bandages before taking a step back and raising an eyebrow

“A friend?” he questioned, crossing his arms.

“Yes. I believe this could be the start of a great friendship, the four of us. Don’t you guys think? Besides I’ve known you for years, Logan. Plus, I’m well acquainted with Patton already, though we’ve never gotten to spend much one-on-one time together. And Virgil, well, of course, uh, you know…” Roman cleared his throat blushing a bit. “Um, anyway, it’ll be nice, don’t you think? We can all just be here and exist together. No need for formalities or regard for social status or any of that. We can all relax and be ourselves.”

Logan took a minute to think it over before sighing and nodding softly.

“I—I suppose that’s acceptable,” he agreed, “You seem to constantly land yourself in my clinic anyway; so, it’s not as if I don’t get enough of you. It would be…nice to be friends.”

“Yay! New friends! I need you to know that I already love all of you so much,” Patton cheered as Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I think you just love everyone, Patton,” I couldn’t help but snort.

“Well, maybe, but you guys are special. I can’t wait to get to know you all more,” he replied, looking fondly at Roman and Logan who were now arguing about who-knows-what.

“Yeah,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes as Roman dramatically gasped and put a hand to his chest, “Me either, Pat.” Me either

[altsasuke]

My ficlet for day 18 of snsmonth23 Prompt: I'll take care of you

@snsmonth23