#san sickfic
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Ateez - Flu - Part 6
It was noon by the time Seonghwa returned with Yunho in tow. Hongjoong popped his head out of his bedroom, dismayed to find his dongsaeng still flushed with fever but took solace in the fact that the glaze in his eyes had lightened up since the prior day.
“He’s doing a lot better, Joong” Seonghwa reassured upon noticing the concern on Hongjoong’s face as Hongjoong joined him in the living room. “His temperature is down and he has some meds to keep it that way, but they said the fever won’t break for another few days. The meds have been knocking him out straight away though so that’s something.”
Yunho groaned at the reminder, the fever taking its toll on him and his brain feeling scrambled and groggy from his medication.
“I’ll put him to bed” Seonghwa said as he wrapped an arm around Yunho’s shoulder. “Can you grab him a bottle of water?”
Hongjoong made it to the kitchen before his vision blurred, a reminder of the illness that was setting in with no regard for the fact he had sick kids to take care of. He took a few moments to collect himself, letting the dizzy spell pass for the time being.
Once Yunho was settled in Seonghwa and Hongjoong collapsed on the couch, both clearly exhausted.
“Did you sleep last night?” Hongjoong broke the silence, already knowing the answer.
Seonghwa shook his head as he rubbed his eyes harshly. “His nurse wanted me to go home for the night but I didn’t want him to wake up alone.” Hongjoong nodded in understanding at that. He would have done the same thing. “I tried to sleep in the chair but I couldn’t get comfortable. How about you? How are Mingi and Wooyoung doing?”
Hongjoong sighed before responding. “Mingi is Mingi. He wants nothing to do with anybody right now. I’ve been forcing tablets and water into him. He’s not very happy with me right now. And Wooyoung…” his voice trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I tried to get him to sleep in San’s bed and have San stay with Yeo and Jongho but he ended up in bed with me.”
Seonghwa glared at him with disapproval. Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was concerned about him coming down with the flu too, but Seonghwa also had no idea that that ship had already sailed.
“Don’t look at me that way, Hwa. Please.” Hongjoong said defensively. “It was either that or stay up with him all night while he cried. This flu is no joke.”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes, the tension in the room building by the moment. “Yeah, I’m fully aware, believe it or not, after spending the night in the fucking hospital with Yunho teetering on the edge of what could have been a dangerous fever. But thank you for the reminder.”
Even in his current state Hongjoong could sense that this interaction was devolving into something that he didn’t have the capacity to deal with at the moment. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You need to get some sleep now though.”
“Shit…no, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick a fight…I’m just…yeah I need sleep” Seonghwa quickly agreed. “Please wake me up if you need me though” he added as he trudged off to bed.
*~*~*~*~*~
The sound of the front door opening startled San awake. Seonghwa had his hands full with Yunho and didn’t even seem to notice San, who had taken up residence on the couch.
Wooyoung had kept San and Hongjoong up for the better part of the night and into the early hours of the morning as his fever spiked and the body aches set in. Hongjoong had finally gotten him settled into San’s bed, hoping that keeping Yunho and Wooyoung together and Mingi isolated in his own room would prevent further spread but, by the time Hongjoong carried Wooyoung off to his shared room with Seonghwa, San wasn’t sure where he should sleep. His own room was out of the question, his bedding damp from Wooyoung’s sweat and tears, and he wasn’t sure when Yunho would be coming home and in need of his own bed.
He briefly considered Wooyoung’s bed before pausing. Yeosang and Jongho were the only members that hadn’t been exposed to the flu yet and San had spent the day with Wooyoung. Not wanting to risk it, San made his way to the couch before collapsing into a deep sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~
San quickly sat up and vacated the couch, his mind still hazy with sleep, catching Seonghwa’s attention as he emerged from Yunho’s room.
“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, Sannie” Seonghwa said with an exhausted smile as he closed the door behind him. “You look tired. There’s no schedules today, why don’t you get a little more sleep?”
San shrugged in response. “I was napping with Wooyoung when he woke up feeling sick so…I can help you and Hongjoong-hyung since I’ve already been exposed.” San immediately regretted mentioning that to Seonghwa as concern crossed his hyung’s face. He immediately spoke up again, hoping to put Seonghwa at ease. “I’m feeling totally fine, don’t worry!”
It seemed to be enough to placate Seonghwa for the time being. “Well please tell me if you start feeling sick, okay?” San nodded quickly in response before Seonghwa continued. “I hate to ask you, but would you mind going out to the store to get a box of popsicles? Yunho was asking for one on the way home and I gave him Yeosang’s last one yesterday but if it will keep him cool and hydrated…” The speed with which Seonghwa was speaking continued to increase until San interjected.
“What puppy wants, puppy gets” San said with a reassuring smile, grabbing his wallet and heading for the door.
*~*~*~*~*~
“Mingi, let me in please” Hongjoong hissed through Mingi’s door, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping members.
He was about to knock again when he felt a vibration coming from his pocket. Hongjoong rolled his eyes as he opened the text from Mingi:
“Let me sleep.”
Hongjoong was about to protest when he received a second message. A picture of an empty bottle of water with a mostly full bottle next to it.
“At least let me check your…” he was once more cut off, this time by a second picture of a thermometer reading 38.1°.
With that Hongjoong admitted defeat. “Please let me know if you need anything.” After glancing into his own room and confirming that Seonghwa and Wooyoung were still both fast asleep and wrapping an ice pack around the back of Yunho’s hand where the IV needle had been inserted in hopes that it would dull the pain that he was complaining of, Hongjoong stepped into the washroom, locking the door behind him. It took a moment of shuffling to find another thermometer in the medicine cabinet but upon locating it behind a box of bandages he popped it under his tongue. He cringed at the quick beeps that signaled a fever before he could even look at the reading. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know that he was feverish and he was fully aware that sleeping in close proximity to his own personal little space heater, Wooyoung, hadn’t helped at all, but he hadn’t expected his temperature to be 38.5°.
A cough coming from Yunho’s room quickly drew him back to reality. Knowing it was only a matter of time until he was needed again, he quickly swallowed a few of the fever reducers that he had left on the vanity that morning and turned on the shower, opting to take a fast lukewarm shower in hopes that it would get his fever down enough to continue with his day relatively uninterrupted.
If there was anything that Hongjoong was acutely aware of, however, was that no aspect of his life was ever uninterrupted, and a quiet knock on the door reminded him that this situation was no different.
“I’m just getting out of the shower” Hongjoong responded with a sigh as he turned the water off, doing his best to hide the way his teeth were chattering.
“Hyung” the knocking continued as Yeosang’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.
“Yeosang, please give me five minutes” Hongjoong sighed, doing his best to control his temper. Of course he loved Yeosang, but knowing him he’d be asking where the cereal was or confirming tomorrow’s schedule despite Hongjoong having reviewed it twice with him the day prior.
“Hyung, it’s important…its…”
Hongjoong had had enough. Hastily wrapping a towel around his waist, he swung the door open, prepared to lay into Yeosang about respecting one another’s space and about actually listening to what other people were saying. But those thoughts melted away as he found Yeosang awkwardly holding up San as San awkwardly held up a box of popsicles.
“What puppy wants…” San started before interrupted momentarily with a cough. “…puppy gets” he finished, quickly swinging his arm around to hand Yunho’s popsicles to Hongjoong before leaning a little more heavily into Yeosang.
“Sorry, I’m just a little dizzy all of a…” but before San could finish, his eyes rolled back as the rest of his body weight sunk into Yeosang’s arms.
It took a moment for Hongjoong’s fever-addled brain to comprehend what had happened. And even when he realized that San had fainted, it still took his mind another moment to move on from the first and only thought to cross his mind:
Oh. Fuck.
#kpop sickfic#kpop fluff#sickfic#ateez fluff#ateez sickfic#yunho sick#yunho fluff#yunho sickfic#sick wooyoung#wooyoung fluff#Wooyoung sickfic#Mingi sick#Mingi fluff#Mingi sickfic#sick san#san sickfic#san fluff#sick hongjoong#hongjoong sickfic#hongjoong fluff
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Hello guys! It's me!
How are you?
So I'm in desperate need of help.
I had a really detailed Sickfic dream about San, from Ateez. But since I don't write for them (at least not yet), I wanted to make a request.
But I don't know who I should send an ask to, because there a lot of good writers out there.
So, my dearest writers, you're free to message me about it (not as an ask) and I'll send you the request very detailed!
💜
#emeto#sickfic#whump#kpop sickfic#kpop emeto#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez sickfic#ateez emeto#san emeto#san sickfic#hurt/comfort#sick ateez#ateez san
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Hello! For the prompt list, could you write 5 & 49 with Seonghwa as the sick one and San as the caretaker? I love their brotherly dynamic~ Thank you!
I'm so sorry this request is about 9 months old! If you're still here, anon, I hope you enjoy this fic. I really did enjoy writing it and I love the dynamic between these two!
Pairing: Seonghwa x San - platonic intentions, but read as you please
Prompts: "Try and get some food down. Anything" || "Sorry. I'm… I'm really dizzy"
Words Count: 2489
Warnings: Illness || Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Sickness
San doesn't usually wake up in the middle of the night. He has a very thorough nightly routine that he completes meticulously each evening. He spends upwards of an hour in the bathroom each night, completing his skin care and dental care and emptying himself of anything that might disturb his precious hours of uninterrupted sleep. He swears by this routine. Sleeping in his own bed is a luxury these days, so he doesn't even want to waste 1 precious minute on something as trivial as using the bathroom.
So he's naturally disgruntled when he wakes in the middle of the night unable to quickly doze back to sleep. Despite his nightly rituals, he still finds himself having to pee at half past 3 in the morning. He blames it on drinking Mingi's leftover coffee. Can't let precious caffeine go to waste either. He only feels a hint of remorse.
Begrudgingly, he throws the covers off of himself and hustles down to the bathroom. If he's quick, he might be able to get it done without losing the fuzzy feeling of sleep. In and out, then back to sleep. That's the plan.
That plan comes to a screeching halt when he enters the bathroom to find Seonghwa draped across the toilet seat, skin white as a ghost. And if the sight isn't enough of a clue, there's an overpowering stench of vomit lingering in the air.
"Hwa-hyung!" San exclaims. He stands petrified in the doorway, like he's awaiting further instruction. He's not really sure what he's supposed to do. Seonghwa is the caretaker of the group, how is he supposed to take care of him.
Seonghwa lifts his head to look at San, a pained expression on his face and a vacant look in his eyes. He shushes the younger, "You'll-" He cuts himself off with a nauseous burp, "You'll wake Mingi."
Of course, even draped helplessly over the only toilet in their apartment, looking minutes away from comatose, Seonghwa is still thinking about the others. San clicks his tongue. And Mingi, of all people, a historically heavy sleeper. The building could be mid-demolition and he'd be none the wiser. "No I won't," San says confidently. Still he lowers his voice just for good measure.
The remnants of sleep are gone and he's on high alert now. He knows he won't be able to go back to sleep knowing that his hyung is feeling so miserably unwell. So he enters the small bathroom and closes the door behind him for privacy. He also turns on the bathroom fan, to hopefully ventilate some of the smell out of the room.
"Don't come any closer, San-ah." Seonghwa stops mid-command to gag. It's unnaturally loud, echoing in the now sealed room, but unproductive. "I might be contagious."
"I don't care." San replies without thinking, like it's the most natural response in the world. "You need help."
Seonghwa shakes his head, not making any eye-contact with the younger. "I can take care of myself." He says in such a way that San can't help but be skeptical. "You're younger than me. I'm not your responsibility."
"You're my hyung," San stands his ground, already resolved to help Seonghwa. At least through the night, he can let Hongjoong know in the morning and they can work out a more long-term plan from there. "And my family is my responsibility."
Seonghwa looks like he has another objection queued up, but before he can respond he bows his head into the toilet bowl when the formerly unproductive gag returns. This time, a slurry of sick pours out his open mouth. The oldest whimpers and moans as he stomach convulses to get every last drop out of him.
San notices it's mostly clear and speculates that Seonghwa has been throwing up for so long that he's empty. Since they all ate the same thing, he concludes it's likely a stomach bug, not a lone case of food poisoning. While Seonghwa continues to stare into the bowl, San takes the opportunity to approach his hyung. He crouches down next to him and runs a hand along his back, "You're okay. Get it out. That's good." He whispers sweet reassurances until the episode is over.
All the tension leaves Seonghwa's body at once, leaving him slack against the toilet seat. San's hand on his back distracts him from the cramping in his stomach, so for now he stops trying to shoo the younger away. The attention actually feels kind of nice, reminds him of home, of being the youngest in the family. Reminds him of how much he misses it.
The porcelain seat is cold, but San's body is teeming with warmth. He craves that warmth, the comfort that comes with physical contact. It's more alluring than the ceramic bowl. It takes way more effort than it should, but he pushes himself off the toilet seat and into San's open arms.
San sees Seonghwa's intention and helps him settle in, wrapping his arms comfortingly around his hyung. He uses just enough pressure so that he's hugging, but not squeezing. "Poor hyung, you really must not be feeling well." He soothes, pressing a kiss to Seonghwa's sweaty temple.
Seonghwa whines, a long drawn out sound that might be an affirmative. He mumbles something about "hurt" and "cold" but all the words are muffled against San's shoulder.
"C'mon, why don't we get you back to bed?" San suggests. He contemplates getting his hyung in the shower, but decides against it given the elder's weak state. Maybe when some of his energy returns, he'll push for a shower.
"Couch," Seonghwa counters.
San's eyebrow raises in curiosity, "You don't want to sleep in your bed. It's much more comfortable than the couch." He recommends, "If you're still worried about waking Mingi, don't be. His door is closed."
Seonghwa shakes his head the tiniest bit. If San hadn't been critically analyzing his hyung's every movement, he would have missed it. "Not about Mingi," Seonghwa insists. His eyes start to water and his lower lip quivers. "Please, just couch." He begs through a sob.
Though San doesn't totally understand why, he can tell it's a sensitive topic and surrenders. "Okay, okay," he hushes, "I'll take you to the couch. I'll set up a nice, soft blanket for you and get you extra pillows. Okay, how does that sound?" Seonghwa does like the sound of that, he affirms it with a small "mmhm."
San pushes Seonghwa away just long enough to stand up on his own. Once he's on his feet, he holds out a hand to his hyung, "Can you stand?"
Seonghwa holds the outstretched hand, squeezing it with all the might he can muster. He uses his other hand to hold into the edge of the sink, trying to get himself up. He makes it onto his knees, but can't make it any further. With a sniffle, he shakes his head sadly at his dongsaeng.
San doesn't question it or force anything more from his hyung. He simply steps in and helps Seonghwa to his feet, shouldering much of his hyung's weight onto himself. "There we go, wanna try walking?" When Seonghwa doesn't object, San takes a tentative step forward, out of the bathroom. Seonghwa follows on wobbling knees.
They make it to the entrance of the living room area when Seonghwa nearly throws himself against the wall. He clings to the wall, slowly sliding down until he's on the floor, head pressed against the wall. San crawls next to him, "What's wrong?"
"Sorry, I'm… I feel really dizzy." He explains his sudden transition to the floor. "I just need a minute."
There's a cold hand pressed against Seonghwa's forehead, something to focus on that will hopefully make his world stop spinning. Even with his eyes closed, he feels like he's riding a carousel at 160 kph. "You're burning up." The younger gasps like this is new information. Seonghwa has known of the fever for hours. "And you're probably dehydrated too. We've gotta get some liquid in you."
A panic shoots through San as he scans the room, hoping that by some miracle someone might be there to help him. But he knows deep down that it's a lost cause. It's still the middle of the night. And the only other person in the apartment is sound asleep. So it's all up to him. "Stay here, okay?" He encourages, "I'm gonna get stuff ready for you."
Seonghwa just nods, hand resting on his bloated stomach. Without San's cool hand to ground him, his mind is back to whirling around the carousel. He presses his head against the wall and whimpers until San's return. He has no way of knowing if seconds, minutes, or hours pass in his misery.
San can hear Seonghwa's lonely cries as he passes through the apartment. He starts in the kitchen, setting on a kettle for tea and rummaging through the mostly barren cabinets, swearing up and down that he'd seen a sleeve of crackers lying untouched just a few days ago. When the crackers don’t turn up, San whispers out a curse and peers around for something else that would be easy on his hyung’s stomach. A bowl of jook would be ideal, but that will take a long time to prepare. Seonghwa needs nutrients now.
He creates a tray of snacks, containing stray food they had in the apartment. He slices up every kind of fruit he could find, microwaves an instant noodle cup and set the flavor packet aside, and he borrowed one of Mingi’s favorite jello cups. San pours the whistling kettle over a peppermint tea bag and allows it to steep for only 1 minute, not wanting the tea to be too strong. Then he adds an electrolyte drink to the tray for good measure before carrying it out to the coffee table.
He passes through the corridor again, paying Seonghwa little mind. It seems the older has started to drift off as he rested against the wall. San figures it just buys him time to finish setting up the living room. He takes a quick detour to his hyung's room to gather some additional supplies.
Upon entering the room, San's hit with the smell of vomit. It doesn't take him long to notice the shallow pool of vomit beside the bed. He follows the trail up and sees another small puddle among the bedsheets. It's suddenly abundantly clear why Seonghwa was so adamant about not returning to his room, feeling too sickly to face the mess he'd made at some earlier point in the night.
He decides to leave the mess for now, recentering his goal of getting Seonghwa nourished, medicated, and rested. He pulls out some fresh clothes for his hyung, figuring that his current outfit is either sweat soaked or vomit stained. Likely a putrid combination of both.
He forgoes stealing the blankets off Seonghwa's bed and opts to take the bedding from his own room. But he makes sure to pick up Seonghwa’s Star Wars blanket for some familiarity and comfort. It's a child sized blanket. It hardly covers his torso effectively. But it's a great comfort to Seonghwa, especially when he's feeling sick or overly tired.
Once San spreads out all the blankets to cover the scratchy fabric of the couch, he returns to find his hyung dozed off right where he's left him. He nudges the older awake. “Hwa-hyung, wake up.” He whispers, “You shouldn't sleep here.”
Ever the light sleeper, Seonghwa rouses, though he immediately resumes his whimpers. “don't wanna get up.” A sob dies out in the back of his throat, “don't feel good.”
“I know you don't hyung,” San sympathizes, “but I have some things set up that will make you feel better.” He doesn't allow time for Seonghwa to refute before he's helping the older man to his feet and guiding him to the couch.
Seonghwa's whole weight falls onto the couch, ready to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow that San had laid out for him. He draws the Star Wars blanket close to his face and lets out a relaxed sigh. It feels like home.
“No, not just yet hyung.” San nearly shouts just to get his hyung's attention. “First, try and get some food down.” He gestures to the options displayed on the coffee table. “Anything, please.”
“Sannie, my stomach hurts” The older man slurs. “I don't think I can eat anything.”
“Hyung,” San's voice morphs into a gentle scolding tone. “You need to eat something.”
“No!” Seonghwa whimpers. “I just need to sleep.”
“You know if the roles were reversed, you'd be trying to make me eat something.” San doesn't back down, despite his hyung's bratty behavior. He gives up on asking, opting to use a bit more force. He picks up the electrolyte drink and points the straw to Seonghwa’s lips. “take a sip.”
When Seonghwa opens his mouth to refuse, the straw slides between his lips. He manages three small sips before he pushes the straw out of his mouth. “Cold.” He whines.
“How about some tea, it's nice and warm by now.” San replaces the drink bottle with the tea cup. “Sit up a bit, I'll help you.”
Seonghwa finally does as he's told. Propping himself up enough so San can tip the cup against his lips. The tea is warm, sends a wave of comfort through his chilled limbs. And the weak peppermint flavor coats his bubbling stomach. Still, he pushes San away before he's finished the cup. He just found this new comfort, he doesn't want to risk it by filling up too fast.
San sets the cup down, “jello or apples?” He offers, figuring that the noodles may be too much for his hyung's stomach right now. He's not ecstatic, but he's satisfied with the amount of liquid Seonghwa managed to take but just wants a few bites of food in him as well.
He decides on the jello, likely a result of his natural sweet tooth winning out. San spoon feeds him an astounding five bites before he purses his lips and puts a hand on his stomach. “Done.” The sick man insists.
“Okay,” San confirms. “Take a little medicine, then you can sleep again.”
Seonghwa nods and takes the pills San hands him. He only sips a bit more of the electrolyte drink to force the pills down. And finally, he lays back down, settling into the couch and curling himself into a small ball. “You'll stay?” He looks pitifully at San.
“Of course, hyung. I'll stay.” He leans against the front of the couch, resting his head on his hyung's thigh.
“Thanks, Sannie.” Seonghwa’s breathing starts to even out as sleep overtakes him, “for taking such good care of me.”
“Sleep well, Hwa.” San also starts to drift back to sleep, the adrenaline of the past hour finally dying down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Sorry again for another long absence in sharing fics. I have a few more request fics I'm actively working on and some original ideas I want to flesh out. I know my motivations have been wavering, but I'll get through them in time. I'm finally starting to feel more like myself again, so hopefully, I'll get out of this funk soon. But I make no promises to timing. Just know that I'm still here, still writing as I'm able to. Please accept this overdue Ateez fic as a token of my gratitude.
As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. And please call me out for any errors you notice!
🧡 Aki
#ateez sickfic#ateez emeto#ateez fever#sick!Seonghwa#caretaker!San#seonghwa x san#aki requests#aki writes#aki sickfic#tw illness#tw emeto#tw fever
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I stuffed my Easter nest with presents for you.
Fitting the Celebrations, i worked a Resurrection
@silverryu25 @psycho-chair @therealesino @thegrinningkitten @theskeletongames @aoi-kanna @fineapplequeen @finally-free-fan-fics @flowerscentedartist @fanart-serenadebleue @sirsen @tacol0ser @swiftmitsu @skumhuu @skell-core @alexins
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Underfell Papyrus with the prompt "Can’t stop shaking," please
Hope you feel better soon ^^ 💜
This one got away from me a bit so I'm sorry if it's a little janky but also ty ;; 🩵
Ao3
CW, sick fic, sick character's pov, hospital stuff
Prompt list
—
A strange sound filtered in through the darkness. Fuzzy and ticklish, distant in the back of his skull. When it happened again, pain bloomed there, bleeding down his cervical vertebrae to ache through his ribcage.
Feeling began to register as that pain traveled further. Every limb drawn taut like a wooden doll held together with too little string. Tremors held him in a vice grip, unable to think beyond the radiating soreness weighing him down like lead, stifled further by a heavy weight laid atop the length of his body. Not only heavy, but hot, smotheringly so, yet doing nothing to reach the chills shivering up his spine, exacerbating the aches further.
That sound happened again, muffled, but more familiar, a voice. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to question, when that tickling sensation jumped, right to his throat, jolting fully awake with a vicious bout of coughing.
"Oh-!" a large, furry paw smoothed over the top of his head as that sound came again, closer, words, but none clear enough to parse over his own choking. He could hardly open his eyes enough to see the distorted shapes above him, let alone make sense of them.
Something cloth passed across his teeth, and instincts abruptly urged to push his attacker away before they could gag him, but his arms were useless, weak and buried at his sides. As the coughing finally subsided he could hear the stifled rattling of his own bones beneath the thick fabric restricting him.
"It is only me, Papyrus-" still cloudy, but discernible at last, "Toriel. Calm down," her gentle voice finally clicked into alignment with everything else. Toriel, his...friend? His mind grappled for a word or phrase to define what she was to him, but thoughts seemed to jumble together, clinging uselessly to the inside of his skull.
"Do not strain yourself," she soothed again, brushing the side of her paw against his cheekbone. As disoriented as he felt, he could still hear the strain in her steady tone.
Blinking slowly, the stale magic lining his sockets prevented his vision from focusing, but the rest of his unease passed recognizing Toriel's silhouette. When the cloth pressed to his teeth again he made no move to struggle. Not that he could've – he'd become acutely aware he felt awful.
Soon enough, the light pressure disappeared, his eyes fighting exhaustion to squint back open.
"There," she sighed, and then went quiet for a moment. The battle was quickly lost, his eyes drifting back shut, when he heard the floor creak. "I will get you some water." She spoke so softly, not dissimilar to how she spoke to Frisk...it felt disarming to hear it directed at him.
As her steps faded, his own noise became emphasized in the silence. Any white noise of the house settling or Toriel's movements elsewhere went entirely drowned out by every wet, rasping breath drawn, the unrelenting rattling tremble of his bones. Dizzy and nauseous, unable to so much as sit up, dully he remembered what was wrong with him. He was sick.
Very sick.
Without warning, the nausea heightened, coiled below his ribcage and he shuddered, swallowing thickly as much as he could before a sweeping chill wracked him, gasping into another, weaker coughing bout. Even his mind would not cooperate, feeling like his head had been stuffed with static and cotton.
Back underground, pain was simply a facet of life. Being stabbed, broken, bruised and beaten; especially in the guard. Seldom a day went by he returned home plagued only by weariness. But it had always been his brother prone to illness. He could probably count the number of times on one hand he could remember being sick himself, and it had never felt like this. Like his own body trying to exorcise him.
A strange lightheadedness possessed him, whatever few thoughts he could cling to slipping rapidly from his grasp. Only distantly was he aware of Toriel’s return and her attempting to get him to drink, raising his head in a strong, careful grip. He tried to tell her not to, his body was disgustingly soaked in his own sweat, it would matte her fur, surely, but all that came out was a strangled groan as she finally lowered him back to the pillow.
Were it not for lingering common sense, he would've worried his bones were on the verge of rattling apart. His focus had nowhere else to tether as wakefulness loosened from him further, drifting back and forth often enough to keep him miserably aware of his own discomfort, but no more, not enough to *think.
Time lost all meaning between snatches of consciousness, if it could’ve been called that. Every brief moment of awareness lost upon every lapse. He wouldn't remember catching whispers of two voices, one he knows better than any other, tense and worried. Wouldn't remember cringing weakly as he was moved, carried by strong, shaking hands to a cool vehicle, trembling hard enough to whimper at the pain of it. Wouldn't remember strangers’ hands replacing trusted ones, or how they caught him as he convulsed, getting sick on unfamiliar tile floors.
None of that remained, nor the days that followed.
Nothing made sense by the time his mind feebly made its way back to him. A low beeping beside him, the warmth of sunlight on his hands. When he managed to pry his tired eyes open, clean, white, unfamiliar walls greeted him. The bed before him less unknown, a hospital bed, with clinical white sheets outlining his body underneath. Wires that must've been attached to him snaked out from beneath – he couldn't feel them, but he couldn't feel much of anything beyond an overwhelming fatigue.
The air brought into his ribcage with every breath felt oddly cool, eyes drifting closed to focused what little energy he had on recalling what had led him here. Nothing came back before that beeping changed, only once, two staccato chirps seamlessly flowing back into its prior rhythm.
Automatically, he tried to look to the source, neck stiff and unwilling but managing enough to see a screen displaying stats he couldn't make sense of. He was in a hospital, of course, but what would he need to be monitored for? Why-
"rus?"
Turning his head too quickly, he flinched with a sharp inhale, "whoa whoa, take it easy, papyrus, s'just me."
Vision clearing from the unexpected jolt, his brother came into view. Outlined in the early morning, or perhaps late afternoon light filtering in from the window behind him, Sans stood beside his bed, obviously looking worse for wear in spite of the easy grin plastered on his features.
"What-" the dryness of his magic choked him, coughing as Sans fussed, pulling a cup of water off a tray he hadn't noticed with a flick of blue magic to force upon him with a mild scold. The surreality of it made him question if he was actually awake.
Clearing his throat more properly, any questions fell to the wayside as exhaustion frustratingly took hold again. He laid back, half-breathless just from drinking, and watched as Sans moved to set the cup back down by hand, aimlessly picking at the few other items on the tray. It didn't seem he to actually needed to ask, watching Sans deliberately find things to do, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes. The blanket was his next target, returning to the bed to fix it, smoothing it, brow bones fixed in an unusually tight scowl.
He said nothing, perhaps too tired to be annoyed by the prevarication, or perhaps understanding something bad must’ve happened to upset his brother this deeply.
It wasn’t long before the tension cracked with a sigh. Sans stuffed his hands back into his pockets as he stared down at where a wire was surely attached to his brother’s soul under the sheets. What he was really seeing was anyone's guess, but the string was fully cut when Sans took another, deeper breath, clearing his throat and shuffling the few steps back to the chair he must've been sleeping in.
"you uh, you really don't do nothin' halfway, do ya, kid," he breathed a humorless laugh as he slowly lowered into the chair. That single working eyelight drew up to the gaze rested on him, his own weariness now plain as day.
Papyrus held the attention steadily, hoping the slight furrow of his brow bone asked well enough for him. A shadow passed over Sans' expression, gone again in a flicker as he looked away for a moment before returning, but he didn't miss the tightness of his brother's voice as he answered.
"you got sick, papyrus. really sick." His hands fidgeted where they were clasped in his lap, wringing each other sluggishly. "scared the hell outta tori. wouldn' even let the kid visit 'cause she..."
One hand moved to his knee, clearing the shakiness from his voice and making a poor attempt to cover it with a chuckle. "don' matter now. got a little outta hand ‘cause of a secondary infection, but the doc said yer improving real well so it don' matter."
A small measure of sincerity lightened Sans' smile, voice low and calm, "now ya just gotta rest, got it?" He didn't even realize his sockets were sinking shut as he listened.
"just gotta relax, 'rus, i ain't goin' nowhere. s’gunna be alright."
Of course it would, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to. This time, sleep claimed him much more gently.
#overcast moonlight#ty also for the prompt <3💫#canvas-madness-txc#cs follower fics#underfell#underfell papyrus#underfell toriel#underfell sans#uf edge#uf red#uf toriel#sickfic#cw medical
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I Would Die A Thousand Times...
I Would Die a Thousand Times
Heaven Offical’s Blessing sickfic Headcannon in the works because yeah:
San Lang getting ill (despite not breathing or having a heartbeat) and Xia Lian cares for him.
I’ll post later if anyone is interested.
Thoughts in progress - sorry for all the jumbled mess... set during series :)
…
“You needn’t worry yourself, your Highness. You’ve already shown me more than enough kindness. More than I’m deserving of.”
“Please, don’t speak of such conjecture about my dear San Lang. He is worth every bit of kindness I give and even more…”
“Please,” San Lang whispered, his head bowed slightly, “you should leave. Before I ruin you.”
Xia Lian’s fingers brushed against his temple, carding several loose sweaty strands of black hair he’d missed away from the other’s face. He spoke softly, his voice gentle but firm, “Then ruin me. Hurt me… if you want. Kill me, if you’d like. But I’m not leaving… I’ve waited over 800 years to find you again. And I’m not letting you go so easily.”
San Lang winced as the words met his ears…
Fever
Distorted reality?
Right eye blind
Passes out.
SL- Please, eat something.
XL- And you?
I’m not very hungry right now.
Hmm. What if we share then?
San Lang’s smile falters slightly before returning, reaching forward and taking the chopsticks, Xia Lian is too kind.
Picks out some things and eats slowly. Smiling every time Xia Lian makes eye contact.
San Lang? Are you alright?
Of course.
Are you sure? You’ve been rather quiet today. If something is wrong, please feel free to tell me.
This one is fine, your Highness. Just thinking.
I see. Care to share your thoughts?
Nightmare/ flashback – wakes up puking.
San Lang! Shh, it’s alright. You’re alright.
Apologies, your Highness. I’ll-
No, lay back down.
I-
Be a good boy. Do as your God commands.
It was a low blow, one that felt wrong and bitter in Xia Lian’s mouth, but one San Lang would follow, nonetheless.
Take off red robes.
Will you allow me to undress you further? The hot material can’t feel good against your skin.
No.
You will be more comfortable if-
This one doesn’t want Xia Lian to be disgusted.
I would never-
No.
SL has never denied XL of anything.
(dumps flowers out of vase from offering table)
I won’t need that.
Just in case…
Lays down, back turned away, starts drifting before he shoots up, grabbing vase/ puking. XL comforts.
San Lang, may I brush your hair?
Convo.
Will you rest now?
Only if XL will lay with this one.
Always.
High fever, boyish nightmare.
XL cooling
San Lang, hey. (eyes barely open, burning)
Your… H’ness? I-
Sh, it’s alright. You don’t need to talk, but I need to undress you further. Your fever is too high, and the extra clothing isn’t helping. I’m sorry.
Please… No, Xia L’n.
I’m truly sorry. I promise to be gentle.
Despite the disapproving whimpers escaping the other’s mouth, San Lang barely resisted, letting Xia Lian thread his arms out of his robes carefully. The God pulled the robe down slowly, trying to keep his breathing even as his eyes locked onto the copious amount of scars and tattoos, some recognized as talisman, others foreign. All, including Xia Lian’s name tattooed down his left forearm, in horrible, almost unreadable, handwriting.
San Lang, you must drink.
What if SL becomes afraid at one point? Reverting back to a boyish memory of him being beaten in the streets as a young child, jumping, etc., due to eye… ostracized.
San Lang, it’s alright. I’m not- I would never hurt you, San Lang.
Please don’t be afraid.
#sickfic#anime#manga#light novels#heavens offical blessing#san lang#hua cheng#tian guan ci fu#xia lian#e ming#notes#other characters#yeah
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3k of what was just a small idea...
Or more like the story on how Yeosang found out that he can't handle a person being sick to their stomach anymore-
Warning: description of vomit
Vacation. Ah what a beautiful word. Especially after an amazing but stressful tour.
For a few weeks Ateez are allowed to have free time, it was just three days off but to them it meant everything. Without a camera or staff.
The members individually decided what to do. Some of them stayed home and used the time to relax. Then there are Yeosang and San.
Those two decided to go on a trip to Jeju island. Just the two of them relaxing in the beautiful nature. But before flying to Jeju, they had to take the train for a few hours since they planned to make a short stop at Sans hometown and visit his parents.
-
“Yeosang~ we are running late! Usually you're not that slow with packing. What are you doing??” San whined, standing in the door frame of the olders room and watching him search for something in his wardrobe.
“I’m looking for what to wear for the last few days! I have my casual clothes but I don’t really have anything nice picked out.” Yeosang mumbled distractedly, a small pout on his lips.
Anyone could tell that Yeosang was really excited for the trip as he usually wants the tip to break his head over what to wear that much.
San smiled softly and walked over to the older, lightly smacking his friend's butt.
“Yeosangie you're really special.” He giggled as he looked through Yeosangs wardrobe. Picking a few clothes out of it and putting it neatly into the older one's suitcase.
The good thing is that the younger one knows exactly what Yeosang likes to wear and how he could stress himself out over the smallest things.
Yeosang watched San in awe. His eyes were shining. He's really happy to have such a good friend.
“Ready, puppy?” San teased as he ruffled through the olders blonde coloured hair.
“I think so..” Yeosang trailed off, distracted by Sans actions. He quickly checked off his mental checklist before nodding as confirmation. “Yeah, I’m ready. Also, I’m not a puppy!”
“Yes you are!” San laughed as he quickly rushed out of the olders one's room.
Knowing too well that Yeosang would get his revenge as soon as they’re in the car.
So San grabbed his own luggage and quickly walked over to the car, putting it in the trunk and seating himself on the backseat.
Luckily they have one of those privacy screens between the back and front seat, so the manager wouldn’t bother them and they have their privacy.
San could swear he forgot something, he checked his list but as soon as Yeosang entered the car, his thoughts stopped. Probably wasn’t anything important.
He looked up at the older and put his most innocent smile on, blinking his eyes in hopes that Yeosang would be easy in his revenge.
Yeosang pouted a little at him. “At least I'm not a mountain.” He huffed playfully, crossing his arms.
“You’re a mountain.” Yeosang repeated, holding back a giggle and trying to stay serious.
San acted offended and shocked. Putting his hand over his heart. “Wow Yeo. How can you get so personal?”
It stayed silent for a while until both of them broke into a laughing fit. Now it’s finally time to start their own little trip. And it will be a good one. At least that’s what they thought.
Until 20 minutes into the drive San knew what he forgot. His medicine for motion sickness. It’s now sitting at home.. on the counter.. all alone.
How stupid could a person be? Forgetting their own medicine.
San knew better than to forget that, he knew how horrible his motion sickness could get. For a moment he wanted to tell Yeosang and ask if they could turn around and get the pills. But he decided against it as he saw the sweet smile on the olders lips as he looked out of the window, clearly excited. San couldn’t destroy that peace.
He smiled fondly as he watched the older.
How can such a person be such an Angel? San thought.
San sighed to himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad this time and he would make it through the whole car ride without getting violently sick. After all, he doesn't feel any kind of symptoms right now. Maybe luck would be on his side today.
On occasion, Yeosang turned to San to point out the interesting little things his eyes picked up on. Sometimes it would be a little field of flowers and other times it would be him pointing out nostalgic buildings. His favorite cafe, an arcade, the McDonald’s that Wopyoung got sick at one time.. it was funny how the littlest things had such a big meaning.
“Sannie look!” Yeosang exclaimed, pointing out an animal shelter. “I wanna adopt them all.” He pouted. “Sannie can we get another dog?"
Slowly, San turned his gaze out of the window. Knowing that this may trigger his motion sickness. He looked over to the animal shelter. Smiling about the fact that Yeosang would like to help every creature in the world. San is no different. He would too.
“I don’t think we can handle more than one dog, Yunho is enough.” He chuckled
“But I’m sure we could ask at the shelter if we could walk some dogs for them in our free time?”
San knew their free time was limited and there’s rarely a chance they would get to do that. But right now he doesn’t want to destroy the mood and just hopes he could please the older with that.
The younger tilted his head to look at the older one. Noticing his eyebags. He must be tired. No wonder. He didn’t sleep the whole night, too excited for the trip. But San also knew that Yeosang never sleeps in cars, always having a hard time to rest in them.
Yeosang noticed him looking up at him. The older tilted his head at him with curiosity. “What is it, Sannie?” He smiled. He knew San well, and he also knew that the face he was making was his “oh- that’s worrying” face.
“Is there something on my face??” He pulled out his phone to look in the front camera, turning his head at all angles to make sure he looked okay.
San snorted. “Yes, your eye bags that make you look like a zombie. Didn’t you sleep?”
He knew the answer but he still wanted to hear it.
“Give me a break, I was too excited!” Yeosang whined playfully at him. It was true. Sometimes when he was too excited or too nervous for something, it took him forever to fall asleep. Sometimes he even had to take medicine to help him sleep, but even then he’d often be awake until 4 am because his body still wouldn’t let him. At least it was out of excitement this time.
San hummed understanding.
“So you want to try to sleep? You look exhausted.”
He knew the answer. Yeosang wouldn’t be able to. Not in the car, not like that. San did know a way it would work out, but he also knew how shy Yeosang could get. So he wanted him to admit that he really is feeling exhausted. That would be a tough one. Even though he could already see Yeosang yawning.
“You know my shoulder is rather comfortable. That’s what Woo always says.” San giggled.
“Well.. I could try, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. You know it’s impossible for me to in a car.” Yeosang sighed. “I’ll be okay.”
San rolled his eyes. “Idiot.”
Without saying anything else he wrapped his arm around the olders waist and pulled him close. So now Yeosangs head was resting on the youngers shoulder. San could feel that Yeosangs body stiffened under the sudden skin ship.
His arm that was around the olders waist carefully took Yeosangs arm and started drawing circles on it. That’s what Wooyoung always did to San when he had trouble falling asleep after getting sick in the car. He knew that Yeosang would eventually relax. At least he hopes so. He doesn’t want the older to be all tired as soon as they arrive. He knew how devastating it would be for Yeosang to not enjoy every minute of their trip.
Sadly San could feel that Yeosang was still stiff under his touch and didn’t relax one single muscle. San knew why. The older is probably flustered by the situation.
“It’s only awkward if you’re making it awkward.” San murmured. His voice was soft, sounding comforting.
Yeosangs eyes were widened with surprise, his cheeks red and his heart pounding. What was he supposed to do? He can't help but feel shy about every sudden skinship. Eventually, he found himself subconsciously relaxing under Sans touch, trying to fight the urge to close his eyes. Soon, a wave of sleepiness overwhelmed him and his eyes began fluttering close. His breathing began evening out. He was falling asleep.
“Liar” San grinned.
He was proud of himself. Being able to let the older fall asleep in a car was something one could be proud of. Honestly he was surprised that it worked. Actually he thought it wouldn’t and he would just have a tired and moody Yeosang the whole car right. Luckily that wasn’t the case.
Now it was his turn to stare out of the window and enjoy the view a bit.
As Yeosang slept, the more relaxed he became. His arm landed onto the youngers lap and remained there for a bit before he shifted in his sleep. His arm snakes around his waist and he buried his face further into San. He’d never been able to sleep so peacefully during a car ride.
San smiled softly as he watched the slightly older sleeping so peacefully. He pulled him just a little closer and continued to look out of the window.
Honestly he can feel his stomach acting up. There’s a slight discomfort sitting on the top of his stomach. A slight headache settling in.
Maybe it would go away. At least that’s what he wished for.
Around 40 minutes later San knew his wish wasn’t granted. The uncomfortable feeling morphed into a painful one. Nausea settled deep in his stomach. His hands shaking and the dizziness only getting worse with each movement of the car. He could feel all the bumps of the road. Rocking his stomach contents back and forth. San can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut. Sweat dripped down his brows.
Yeosangs arm around his waist is no longer a nice presence. The pressure feels too harsh on his stomach. Only making the nausea more known. A burp interrupted him, tasting sour. San knew what was going on. He needs to wake Yeosang up. Quick.
But after the fifth time he tried to shake the older awake to no avail, San gave up. That wasn’t his best idea. Letting Yeosang, the exhausted and tired Yeosang, sleep in the car while he forgot to take his damn medicine. But the older one looked so exhausted and tired. San couldn’t help himself. But this is a price he’s willing to pay for his friend.
However, with a rather harsh bump the seatbelt and Yeosangs arm got pressed more into his stomach. Only now he knew how upset his stomach really is. He doesn’t even have the time to swallow down the sickness. Because suddenly he leaned forward with a gag and clear liquid rushed up his throat. Splashing directly onto Yeosangs lap, waking him up in the process. Normally San would immediately apologize, but he couldn’t react that fast. All he was able to do was fold himself around his stomach and let the rush of sickness come up his throat. He was coughing and tears started to stream down his eyes. The sickness burning his throat. He needs to get out of here but the manager is still driving, not noticing what is going on due to the blind screen. He hopes that Yeosang isn’t mad at him, after all getting thrown up on isn’t very pleasant.
Yeosang didn’t even really process the fact that he had a pile of puke on his lap, he weasnt really awake yet. As soon as he actually noticed what was going on he couldnt help but feel really uneasy. The warm liquid in his lap, the smell. He felt like throwing up himself. However he was quick to rub San back. He whimpered a little, anxiously. He didn’t know what to do. “I-It’s okay Sannie-“ the older attempted to help him.
Yeosang looked around for something, anything he could use as a trash can. He couldn’t find anything, so he just continued rubbing Sans back while trying his best to keep his own stomach in place.
San gasped between heaves. Trying to get words out.
“S-stop the c-car..” he somehow managed to mumble between heaves.
By now Sans hands were also soiled with sickness. But he couldn’t help but ignore that for the moment. He didn’t care. Not while feeling this sick.
Yeosang nodded and got the driver's attention to pull over. Once they did so, Yeosang carefully helped his friend out of the car. Along the way, he whispered what he had hoped to be words of comfort. He always did his best to make sure he was doing all he could to help. He’d feel useless just standing aside and being.. well, useless.
As soon as they got out of the car San hunched over, steadying himself with his hands on his knees. While Yeosang kept his distance. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy with the sight. Yeosang knew he had to help San but the situation was just too overwhelming.
San was in absolute agony with another gag, clear liquid rushed up his throat, splashing on the street's asphalt. He gagged again, this time it was unproductive. Only spit hanging on his plump lips. There was nothing else in San as he was left in dry gags. Not being able to calm down. He tried to take a few deep breaths in and out. Until he finally looked at the puddle of puke in front of him. He cringes at the sight.
His hands were soiled, actually his pants and some parts of his shirt too. San just wiped off his hand on his pants, not caring since it’s already soiled.
He guided one of his own hands under his shirt and placed it on his upset stomach. The nausea is still there, but slowly calming down. The solid ground he's standing on doesn’t make any movement. He’s still feeling dizzy though, but his mind no longer clouded.
He spit on the ground one more time, trying to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth.
Finally he looked up at Yeosang and saw his soiled pants.
“Yeo..I'm so sorry.." he teared up.
"I-I really didn’t mean to…. I wanted to wake you up…but I felt so sick and-“ he sighed, the redness on his cheeks is the only color that was left on the singer's face.
“Hey, hey..don't cry...” Yeosang began. Now feeling really guilty about not being able to help the younger.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, okay? I- I need to get this pants off-”
Yeosang couldn't help but rush out of the situation and get fresh pants out of his suitcase. He quickly changed himself, not caring that they're in public. Ad soon as he was in new pants the grabbed the hand sanitizer and cleaned his hands.
"It's okay. It was just vom- no. It's water. Yes it was just water. Nothing else." Yeosang tried to calm himself.
Meanwhile San had cleaned himself up too with the help of the manager.
“I think I have some water.” the manager said.He went to check his bag. Thankfully he brought a water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and he helped San sip the water. “Slowly.” He reminded.
San nodded as he grabbed the bottle. Taking a few sips out of it. After that he took another sip to clean his mouth. At least some of the gross taste was out of his mouth now. He’s still feeling dizzy and weak though.
San looked over to the car, frowning as he watched Yeosang. The manager knew better and gave some room for the two idols.
Yeosang walked up to San. Looking down and fumbling with his fingers.
“I’m sorry.. the car is all soiled now. Your pants too..” he bit his lips, trying not to tear up again.
“Ahh I should really clean that up now.”
San rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Only now really realizing what was really going on.
“No, no no!" Yeosang immediately rushed to San, teying his best to forget what happened. He wrapped an arm around San, gently rubbing up and down his arm. “We can take care of that later, you’re more important, okay? Someone will clean it up, you need to rest the best you can for now.”
Yeosang offered a small smile, hoping that he was being comforting enough. He was often a bit awkward and didn’t really know what to say, but he hoped he helped, even if it was just a little.
San sighed. “I’m still sorry...”
Then he looked down to the olders fresh pants.
“Aren't those mine?" San asked
Yeosang looked down at the pants. Now that San mentioned it. Those definitely aren't Yeosangs pants.
"Oh- I must have grabbed the wrong suitcase-."
San chuckled “You did."
“Maybe~” Yeosang giggled playfully. “Alright come on, you gotta rest.” He carefully helped San back into the cleaned car, having him lean against him the same way that the younger did for him earlier. He held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his back.
“Try to rest now, okay?” Yeosang whispered. He hoped that he did somewhat okay with taking care of his friend. As he continued to hold him close, he could feel the younger's breathing begin to even out. He sighed in relief at that. “Get better soon, Sannie.”
Yeosang couldn't help but feel relief that San was sleeping now. He had to admit that the situation grossed him out a lot. Actually it made him feel sick himself but as the only comfort place for San right now, he had to be there for him. Even if it meant that he had to stay strong. However, he knows better now. Next time they're in a car he will make sure not to sleep on anyone's lap or even be near someone who might get sick. He never had a problem with vomit before but now he isn't so sure anymore…
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INFIRMUM
Based on fanfiction Firsts & Seconds written by Skerbbie @skerbbie
I DON'T OWN UNDERTALE, HORRORTALE, FARMTALE OR THE FIC FIRST AND SECONDS WRITTEN BY SKERBBIE @skerbbie
The rights go to the respective owners!
Undertale by Toby Fox
Horrortale by Sour Apple Studios
Farmtale by GuinongTale_AU
Firsts & Seconds written by Skerbbie 💙
Warnings ⚠️ : sick fic, angst, inaccurate medical stuff, dizziness, fainting, bruises, injuries pain
🌺🌺🌾🌾🌺🌺🌾🌾🌺🌺🌾🌾
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2 (you are here 💋)
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 2 :
“IRREPLACEABLE”
Photo by Karolina Grabowska from Pexels
🌾
🌾
He had coughing fits all night that made it difficult to sleep. He was rolling left and right. His head throbbed. He managed to get some sleep around 2 hours before the first rays of sun went through the curtains.
He sighed tiredly. He laid there watching at the ceiling.
Maybe a warm shower will help his sore aching body.
«That's good in thought, but how do we make it happen?» he thought.
He slowly pushed himself up and managed to sit, his feet touching the wooden floor. There wasn't a place in his body that didn't hurt.
«Okay, good one step at a time»
He tried to get up but he went into a coughing fit.
*koff koff koff koff hack wheeze*
While coughing uncontrollably in his radius and ulna, he clenched his chest and slouched forward. His eyes tightly shut and teared up.
Axe had heard his coughing fit. Determined to help, he went to the bathroom. He looked around searching the first aid kit. Once he spotted it, he opened it and found some medical candies. He smiled.
Then he went to the kitchen and prepared some chamomile. He kept glancing concerned at Sticks's room.
He added honey to the mug and mixed it with the chamomile. When he finished, he walked towards Sticks's room.
He peeked from the door, highly worried; "Sticks?" his voice soft.
Despite him being a fell monster. His voice wasn't very deep or 'thin'. He in fact had a soft and beautiful masculine voice. There was something mesmerizing in it. (Note /headcanon: Axe voice is a little bit deeper than Sticks's)
Upon seeing Sticks in this state Axe's soul clenched.
Sticks's face was bathed in sweat and tears. There was a greenish hue all over his face; Not to mention the dark circles under his eyes.
"Hey.." he let the things he was holding on the bedside table and slowly sat down next to him. He eyed him, he put his hand on his shoulder blade and made soft circling motions.
After the fit ended Sticks tried to take steady breathes. "You've been coughing a lot so, I found these medical candies with herbs, here is a chamomile too"
He took them gladly "Thank you!" his voice low and hoarse. Weak.
Axe eyed him again. He nodded lowering his head and looking at his hands; "Sticks? I will ask you something and I want you to be honest okay?"
Sticks nodded slouching and slowly unraveling the wrapping from the medical candy.
"Is it because of the rain?"
Sticks lowered his head and nodded "rain and the cold breeze yesterday when I was working, I was sweating and the cold breeze hit me.." he answered honestly.
Axe straightened up slightly, he was satisfied with Sticks being honest "Okay, we'll take care of it! Thanks for being honest! Oh! Don't forget the chamomile! Here!" he spoke softly.
"Thank you buddy" he slowly drank it.
Once he finished he got up slowly and carefully. Some of his bones cracking.
"... Im gonna take a shower" Sticks said rubbing his eyes. Axe gave him a worried look. "Don't worry I will be quick and if it makes you feel better I'll leave the door unlocked" he smiled tiredly.
Axe nodded "If you feel unwell please let me know", Sticks nodded.
.
.
While Sticks was in the shower. Axe went in the kitchen and called Papyrus. It was an opportunity now that Sticks was in the bathroom.
.
.
Once Papyrus picked up the phone he was expecting his brother "Good morning Brother!"
"Papyrus, it's me Axe" Axe voice was low but loud enough for Papyrus to hear.
"Oh.. Good morning Bitey!" he said cheerfully. Axe rolled his eye at the nickname.
Okay, Axe had accepted long ago that Papyrus will use this nickname as well to tease him.
Sans was right Papyrus was tall and could be intimidating but he meant well he was kind. Loud. But kind. That was his reality now. He accepted it long ago.
.
.
«Wait-» Papyrus thought.
Why? Why was Axe calling? He never called. Did something bad happened to his brother? He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts that were like a tornado.
He clenched the phone, his hands shaking "Is everything alright?" he asked and Axe could feel the dread in Papyrus's voice.
Axe never called.. so Papyrus freaking out was an understatement!
Axe whispered "Your brother isn't feeling very well Papyrus, I think-no he is sick "
"What do you mean Axe?" he asked his soul beating like drums. He hadn't heard the phrase << he is sick>> . As a result he panicked.
«Did he get hurt? Did he get lost? Is his back okay? Is he falling apart? Did he fall somewhere and now is waiting for help? IS HE DEAD? WHAAATTT?! » his thoughts were running a marathon.
"It rained here, a few days ago, he stayed outside in the rain to take care of the fields.. But got all wet. Yesterday he went to the fields to do some work.. It got worst. There was a breeze and he was sweating.. He doesn't seem so well. Yeah I am 100% sure he caught a cold"
Papyrus released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Okay, Sticks is alive! Phew!
.
..
...
............
Wait-.
"HE.
DID.
WHAAAAT?!"
Axe closed his eye and put the phone away..
"He stayed in the rain-"
"-Yes I heard! Where is he right now?"
"He is taking a shower" Axe looked at the bathroom's direction.
"well I'll be there by the noon after all most jobs are finished and are not a priority right now. I'll contact Abby and see wh-"
*THUD*
Axe heard a loud noise as if someone had fallen down. It seems that even Papyrus heard it..
"Axe? Are you okay? Is everything okay?" he questioned worryingly.
Axe looked at upstairs "Hold on a moment papyrus..".
Papyrus stayed silent
.
(Note: for the needs of this story, they have two bathrooms. One upstairs the other downstairs.)
SANS?!" Axe called and ran upstairs.
*
He knocked on the door "SANS?! Are you okay?"
Silence "..."
"Sticks?" *knock knock *
"..." still silence
"Sticks I'm coming in!" Axe warned and opened the door.
He found Sans laying (on his left side) on the floor.
There was a small crack and a bruise on his forehead.
"STICKS?!" he dropped the phone, eye widening, soul running a marathon.
He ran at his side. He gently rolled him face up and adjusted his body. He lifted his legs up.
He gently patted Sticks cheekbones. He massaged his tibias.
"Sticks?! Wake up! What happened?! Sticks?!" panic started rising in his soul.
After around 3-4 minutes that felt eternity, Sticks groaned. He opened his eyes and blinked the blurriness. He saw Axe leaning above him. Concerned, frightened.
"There you are" Axe sighed with relief.
Axe helped him sit. Sticks started coughing again. He turned away from him slightly.
.
.
They heard Papyrus's panicked voice "AXE?! WHAT'S GOING ON?! AXE?! ARE YOU STILL THERE?!WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BROTHER?!" Papyrus heard coughing and wheezing, accompanied by groans of pain.
Axe looked at the phone. Oops! He had forgotten about that!
"WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!SANS YOU BETTER BE OKAY!!" Papyrus was at the verge of tears. He heard someone picking up the phone "Papyrus it's okay! He fainted but he is awake! Sorry I dropped the phone"
"He fainted?! Is he injured?" he asked slightly relieved. He heard a very slurred dizzily voice "m fine..."
"No you are not!" Axe told him sternly, Sticks looked on the floor trying to sooth the soreness and pain.
Axe expression softened. He turned his attention to Papyrus while examining him. H
"He seems to have bruised and slightly cracked his left shoulder on the fall and there is a bruise above his left eye" Axe explained holding the phone between his head and shoulder.
"I'm coming home as soon as I can!" Papyrus said, Sticks was shaking.
"Axe?" Papyrus asked softly
"Yeah?" he questioned still holding the phone between his head and shoulders and examining Sticks cracked shoulder.
"Please take care of him until I arrive.." he pleaded.
Axe smiled "On it! Papyrus don't worry!"
"Thank you" he said and both closed their phones.
.
.
.
.
Sticks started coughing uncontrollably again. His bones rattled.
Axe wrapped the towel around him, picked him up and took him to the room. He dressed him in some warm clothes and sat him gently on the chair.
He unfolded a blanket on bed, laid him in it and covered him. After that in order to keep him warmer, he picked him up and took him to the kitchen.
He left him close to the stove where there was a gentle fire. He could also look outside in case he felt dizzy again.
Axe offered him some tea with various herbs. "Thanks bud" he spoke quietly.
Axe sat down next to him drinking some tea as well.
In all honesty.. Sticks had rekindle emotions he thought he had forgotten.
Being a Fell Monster he had to forsake most of his emotions in order to survive.
But when he saw Sticks everything changed. This man in front of him brought him back to health.
Day and night he stayed by his side. Little by little he fixed him, bringing him back to a good health and helped him stand up to his feet.
He gave him a second chance to be better and enjoy a different aspect of the life he was deprived of in that forsaken place.
He made him relive emotions such as happiness, love, tranquility, etc
This humble Farmer (and Papyrus of course) that had nothing but love and so many things to offer! They had little but they gave more. Sticks gave more..
Axe smiled at himself looking on the floor, his hands on his laps. Then outside. He could see some of the sheep eating the grass quietly
He looked at Sticks sipping his tea slowly while looking like a sushi roll/ burrito (Axe wrapped him well in the blankets).
He gently stretched his hand and caressed his head and shoulder. Sticks smiled weakly at the soft touch. He knew Axe wanted to comfort him.
.
.
.
(Back to Papyrus)
As soon as he closed the phone he went to Abby. However Abby wasn't there cause she was needed elsewhere.
He met Abby's friend named Angie a healer in training. (Since she is in training she couldn't do much, she isn't skilled yet)
She greeted him with a warm smile.
"Hello! How can I help you?"
"Hello lady! Is Abby here? My brother is sick and I need her help"
She looked at him sympathetically.
While talking she reached on the selve and took some medicines, remedies etc
"I'm really sorry, she is not here and I am not ready to heal yet, I may do more harm than good. But, I'll give you some medicines she has. She also told me to give her phone number in case someone needed her and I'll also give you this crystal."
He took the things she offered gratefully but got perplexed by the crystal. He held it close to his face and examined it " What is this crystal for?"
"It will teleport you in case of an emergency. The one you are holding now is limited though, sorry! I'll make more sometime"
He smiled, he removed some some vegetables that happened to be Abby's favorites. He also left some to Angie.
"Thank you Angie! Please inform Abby" he said taking a hold of the medicines.
"My pleasure and of course, tell him to get well soon!"
Papyrus waved goodbye.
She waved back.
.
.
.
He entered in his car, pulled the crystal. He rubbed it and said something like "Me, car, outside home".
The crystal shone brightly. He shielded his eyes. When he opened them he was indeed a few feet away from home.
He took his items and exited the car. He run home.
.
.
.
(Back to Axe)
Axe had warmed up some broth. He then sat in front of Sans and began feeding..
Sticks didn't want to eat. "It will do you good.. Can you at least eat a little? For me?" he spoke softly holding the spoon. Sticks sighed defeated. He leaned forward and slowly began eating. Axe smiled.
A small trail ran down his chin in which Axe cleaned it. Sticks couldn't eat much.
Axe persisted, he knew hunger better than anyone. Sticks slowly ate but when he had enough, he slowly turned his head away. "No more?" he asked.
Sticks slightly shook his head no and smiled. He brought his hand on his chin he slowly moved towards Axe. He avoided talking, so smiling or other small gestures meant «thank you». Beside Axe knew Sticks was thankful.
After some minutes he took him to bed. He was still feeling cold, Axe laid next to him. He laid on his side and brought Sticks closer to his body so to give him some body heat..
.
.
Axe touched his forehead with his hand. Sticks had stopped shivering but he was burning up. Sticks leaned closer to the touch; Axe phalanges were cool against his burning forehead.
.
Axe brought his hand down caressing Sticks cheekbones.
He heard a knock on the door. He looked over his shoulder. Sticks opened his eyes slightly.
Axe got up and stretched. He walked towards the door
"Who?" he asked
"Axe it's me Papyrus!"
Axe opened the door "Access permitted".
He saw Papyrus's hands full. He tried to keep his voice low.
"How is he?" Papyrus asked concerned
"right now he is burning up..." Axe admitted solemnly.
.
.
.
Just then they heard coughing from upstairs. Papyrus let some of the things he was holding on the table and run upstairs.
...
"Brother!" Papyrus said. He looked at Sans. His soul sank at the depth of his nonexistent stomach.
Sans had slightly opened his eyes "P- *koff koff koff kaf hack wheeze* pa....ps?"
Papyrus said "I am here brother... Forgive me it's not the place nor the time but... WHAT ON ACTUAL HECK WERE YOU THINKING STAYING IN RAIN FOR SO LONG?!"
Sans closed his eyes shut slightly at the volume of his voice. The throbbing in his head killing him.
He wheezed "I *pant pant * couldn't let *gulp* years of hard work to be ruined by rain *wheeze* " he got up slightly supporting his weight on his elbow but collapsed in bed groaning.
Axe added a wet piece of cloth (he soaked it with vinegar) on his forehead.
He noticed Sticks chest to be soaked.
Using another piece of clothe, Axe unbuttoned his shirt so he could clean the sweat and fluids that had gathered around his ribs.
Papyrus watched as he did so and sighed. He knelt down by the bed.
Sans looked at him with tired eyes "Sans, I understand but please. please! Your life is worth more! I will be devastated by the disaster on our crops yes, but I will be more devastated if I were to lose my one and only brother.. The crops will grow back. They will bloom again... But you. You are
irreplaceable!"
Photo by Max Andrey from Pexels:
-> Did you know? That red carnation and sunflower symbolizes brotherly love as well?
END OF CHAPTER 2
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.
CHAPTER 1 💙
CHAPTER 3 💋
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.
THANK YOU FOR READING! 💙
feedback, Constructive criticism, comments are accepted! 💕
Let me know what you think!
#for Skerbbie#Skerbbie#Undertale#Farmtale GuinongTale_AU#Farmtale#Horrortale#horror sans#farmer sans#tw fainting#tw angst#sickfic#undertale fanfiction#sans#papyrus#Based on Skerbbie's fanfiction Firsts and Seconds#rottencrop#farmer x horror#horrorfarm#farmhorror#tw injury#undertale#Αμαλία writes#Αμαλία posts#INFIRMUM#Amelia writes#angst#Αμαλία γράφει
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Fuzzynight- sickfic. Can they get sick??
Can you get a sickfic? Oh yes, you can! And if you want a follow-up to this that may occur if someone asks nicely. BTW, this occurs before the hurt-comfort that is the Lyra hurt one. And part of what I consider is the "Main FuzzyNight Story."
---
The corruption that surrounded him felt cold. It always was cool, but right now, he was cold to the point that he would occasionally shiver. His skull ached, and the magic within him was “off,” causing a wet cough that rattled in his chest.
How miserable.
When was the last time he was sick?
With everything going on, he allowed himself to get worn down. The week leading up to now, he had not slept in preparation for this week, only to have all of it derailed. First, Error injured Killer and Dust; then, Horror became sick the next day. No matter how much Nightmare emphasized that he didn’t want Cross to try to do too much to help on his own, the youngest skeleton didn’t listen. Cross then got hurt trying to solo a supply run for Nightmare while the guardian had his hands full.
The boys were all well now, but Nightmare had overdone it and must have picked up some kind of bug while shopping for supplies. All the stress and poor sleep left his immune system weak to such an attack. However, he didn’t have time to be sick, so he shuffled his way to his office instead of lying in bed. The boys protested him being up and out of bed, but he was immortal. This wasn’t the first time some virus or bacteria decided to attack him. They can’t kill him. In the end, his superior immune system will always win.
It was starting to hurt to cough, and he couldn’t prevent himself from doing so. He was in the middle of a document when he kept coughing until it made him throw up in his trashcan. What a rancid taste it left behind.
For a moment, he pitied mortals and their weaker immunities.
He tied the bag and used a portal to toss the offensive garbage into the pile. Sitting back in his chair, he sighed… he now felt hot… or cold? Both? He wasn’t entirely sure anymore. There was still too much to do…
—-
Everything in her home shook as a rumbling passed through. He was angrier than usual. All this past week into this one, nothing she could do would calm him. Normally, tricking him into believing he killed her does the trick for a while. But currently, that is not the case.
His hatred of her permeated every inch of this shattered world. His anger was thick in the air, keeping her fur on end. It didn’t require being an empath to feel. Like walking into a room with others tense with your presence, her home was far from welcoming. That feeling of not belonging in her own home was nagging at her.
What use was she now, anyway?
She was too much of a coward to save her home. Too much of a coward to save him. Everything wrong in her life was because she hid away. She thought she was doing the right thing. That she was brave. But the truth was far harsher than the lies she chose to believe.
The facts are that she was not needed. Nightmare sought peace on his own. Balance wasn’t required for that. Error and Ink will likely find their balance as well. So, what was she other than a useless guardian?
No one needed her…
Lyra was startled as a song started playing. What was that? Her side was buzzing too. Reaching into the pocket in her dress, she pulled out her cell phone. She forgot Nightmare gave her this as she rarely used it or received a call.
The number she did not know, but she dared to answer.
“Hello?”
“lyra!” Replied a familiar voice. “it’s me, killer.”
“Hello, Killer! I should add you to my contact list,” She said with a smile.
“sure, but later. we’ve gotta emergency going on here. hey, bee tee dub, did boss call you recently?” Killer asked.
“No, why? Is he alright?” She stood up, ready to leave if needed.
“okay, long story short,” Killer said before taking a deep breath, “all four of us were out of commission for the week and mister-i-can-handle-this-on-my-own clearly tried to do everything by himself and is now coughing up his nonexistent lungs but refusing to go back to bed,” Killer said quickly then took a gasp of air as Lyra sighed.
“I will be right there,” Lyra replied as she focused on a portal to Nightmare’s castle. The earth trembled again. He was closer this time, and she could hear the bellowing roar more clearly.
“whoa, what was that? you okay? need us to come help you first?” Killer asked.
“No, it… I will handle this later,” She replied as calmly as she could.
“uh huh… you and Nightmare, always trying to do everything on your own. news flash for ya, lady! you got him and us in your corner, along with dream and his buddies. we need ya, okay? so, if you need some help now and then or even every day, just say so. capeesh?” There was a heavy sigh, “i mean, nighty’s sick from doing all this stuff on his own, and i didn’t even know you immortal types could ever get sick.”
Killer then burst into a mass of giggles, “pfft, i sound like boss lecturing you. see ya when you get here! oh! hang on, dust wants to say something.”
“i’m going to prank call dream and core ‘til you get here,” Dust said flatly.
“that sounds fun,” she heard Horror’s grumbling voice say in the background.
“No, don’t do that,” Lyra stated worriedly.
“hey, my blaster has gotten better at balancing stuff on her nose. bet she could balance that vase in the hall,” Killer giggled.
“and i’m going to invite epic over!” Cross announced loudly.
“no, you’re not!” “grab him!” “we don’t need him here.”
There was a clatter as the phone hit the floor, and she could hear Cross hollering for help. Lyra sighed heavily while trying not to laugh. “Boys!” She called, trying to regain control.
“sorry, lyra, you’re not here to stop us,” Dust said, and just as he was hanging up, she heard him add, “i got the duct tape.”
She will need to take care of that chaos first, then tend to Nightmare.
Once again, she started to focus on her magic. She has done this several times before, but it was always tricky. She needed to open a portal through her own barrier that led into Nightmare’s realm and through his barrier. Thankfully she knows where his home is and how it feels, so her magic, searching for his home, can locate it.
It was like an extension of herself, stretching out and touching the dome of magic over his world. At first, there was a sharp shock, a warning. This was his home! He will defend it from all threats! Then his magic recognized hers, and she felt a warm, welcomed feeling as it allowed her magic to pass and build a pathway for her to walk through.
She walked through the portal to a place that felt more like home than the place she was born. With a sigh, she looked around. A muffled sound caught her attention, and she spotted Cross looking at her with pleading eyelights as he was duct taped to the wall—the poor dear.
“I could leave you here. At least I would know you weren’t causing trouble,” She said as she put her hands on her hips. Cross’ eyelights wobbled a little, and she sighed, “Enough with the puppy eyes. I am getting you down.”
She extended her claws, which made cutting the tape easy, and she lowered the youngest of the four troublemakers down. He got the tape off his mouth as she grabbed him by the hood to drag him along. “Come along; we are finding your older brothers. You are all in deep trouble.”
“awww, lyra, i didn’t even do anything,” Cross whined but quickly became silent as Lyra shot him a glare.
“Threatening the peace of your ‘employers’ home is bad enough,” She stated.
Cross grumbled but didn’t argue further as Lyra dragged him beside her. Horror and Dust were the next two that were easy to find. They had hidden away in the music room, but Dust’s voice saying, “well, you better go catch it,” alerted her to them being there. Both started laughing right away.
“i can’t believe he fell for that!” Horror said between wheezy chuckles.
“n-neither can i!” Dust replied in near-hysterical laughter. It reached a point that, as Lyra walked in, he flopped over on his back from laughing so hard.
She released Cross and walked over to the distracted, laughing skeletons and grabbed them both by the back of their hoodies and pulled them to their feet… or well, she had to lower Dust back down a bit to get him on his feet.
“Who did you just trick?” She asked sternly.
“dream didn’t answer; it was ink,” Horror said.
“i won’t apologize; he deserved it,” Dust replied with a cheeky grin.
“If you two had ears, I would be leading you by them,” she huffed before dragging them with her. “Follow along, Cross. My lack of free hands does not diminish the trouble you are in, and sneaking off will only multiply it.”
“you’re not my mom,” Horror replied jokingly.
“Hush. I may not be your mother, but I am certainly the only one here that remembers how to behave like an adult,” She replied.
As she rounded the corner, she spotted Killer with his oversized blaster. Sure enough, there was a vase on the animalistic skull’s snout. It was balancing perfectly, that is, until the blaster spotted her. Distracted, the blaster let out a mix of a bark and growl before floating closer, purring and chuffing away. The vase tipped off the snout, but Killer, thankfully, caught it.
“hurray! parental supervision has arrived!” He chirped.
“You are nearly 26, according to your monster equivalent age. As the leader of this group, you should be acting as such,” Lyra said as she moved Dust over to hold both Horror and Dust’s hoods in the same paw. With her free hand, she petted the blaster. “Your owner is such trouble, is he not?”
“speaking of trouble, you going to see dad now? give him a kiss and make him feel all better?” Killer asked with a grin.
“kisses are for ‘boo-boos, not illnesses, everyone knows that. tucking him in and giving hugs are better for illnesses,” Horror corrected.
“Oh, behave, the lot of you. Yes, I will attend to Nightmare, and I will do what seems most appropriate for his care,” She said. Lyra then stood taller and gave all four a sharp glare. “I will also be respected and in command until Nightmare is at full health. Since you four have proven you can not be trusted with such responsibility.”
The four glanced at each other, grinning before, in unison, they replied, “yes, mom.”
“I said enough.” With another sigh, Lyra shook her head and made her way to Nightmare’s office. She didn’t need the boys to tell her where he was. It was one of two places, his office or the library. Even then, she was sure he would just retire to his bed if he was tired and didn’t feel well unless he was determined to do work. Knowing this made the library, where he leisurely read, also unlikely. Coughing heard on the other side of the office door confirmed her suspicion.
She didn’t knock this time and opened the door and walked in. “Moonbeam, you need to go to bed,” She said as she approached his desk. Nightmare looked up at her with a tired eyelight and then down at what he was working on.
“I would like to,” He croaked out with a hoarse voice, “But I am far behind on this work.”
With that, Lyra rolled up her sleeves, “Alright, you leave me no choice.”
“Hmmm?” He replied as he looked back up at her. She walked around the desk and started to pick him up. Nightmare naturally protested, but she ignored it as she hugged him close. Sure enough, his fight to squirm free died down.
“I have already scolded your boys for their disobedience. It stands to reason I would have to have the mental fortitude also to scold the father,” She teased.
“What were they doing when you arrived?” He groaned as he relaxed in her arms.
“Oh, no, it started before then. Did you fail to notice they took your phone? Or perhaps you left it somewhere?” She inquired and watched as he started to check his pockets, then winced as he noticed he didn’t have his cell phone. “Ah, yes, they called me, worried about their beloved father figure. Then they proceeded to tape Cross to the wall, again, because he was going to invite Epic over. Horror and Dust slipped off to make prank calls with the numbers on your phone while Killer put your valuables in harm's way.”
“Oh geez,” Nightmare covered his face with his hands then covered his mouth as a series of coughs began.
“You poor thing…,” She gave him a sympathetic look before focusing ahead of her again. Her eyes narrowed in thought about what Killer had said to her. “Nightstar, we need to make a deal with each other… I know it will be hard for both of us, but we need to be more open with each other and turn to each other more often. I… will do so soon. But please, promise me you will call me if you need my help. We… are not alone anymore.”
Nightmare frowned momentarily, then closed his eye, “I will. For your sake as well as my own.”
She opened his bedroom door, the grand room meant for a king. As she passed the fireplace, she used her magic to light it, then walked over to his bed to set him on it after pulling back the covers. “I can feel a fever through your corruption… I know sickness can not kill us, but you should not worry your boys over your health like this.”
“I haven’t been sick in well over a hundred years. I forgot what it felt like,” Nightmare mused as she helped him remove his hoodie. He kicked off his slippers and then reclined. “I will rest for a while, but that work-”
“Will be something I will handle. I have assisted you enough in that office to know what to do. I will also ensure peace within your home as anarchy was about to reign. You will focus on getting better,” She instructed as she hung his hoodie up and set the slippers to the side. She tucked him in and smiled down at him. “Now, so many times you have read to me, allow me to show you such kindness until you are ready to sleep. I will bring by a soup once I have it made, along with a drink to help soothe your magic.”
Placing her hand on the side of his head, she petted his cheekbone with her thumb. She was about to reach for his book, but he soon fell asleep, exhaustion taking over. And no surprise, he was very sick. He likely would have fallen asleep in his office had she not interfered. That would have been some help, but it would not have been the restful sleep he really needed. She stayed by him, unwilling to leave him for the time being.
That is when her phone started to ring. She quickly answered it, whispering to the caller to give her a moment. Thankfully the jingle had not disturbed her poor love’s sleep. Once out of the room, she moved her phone to her ear. “I am sorry about that, hello?”
“Lyra? It is Dream,” Said Dream.
“Yes, what is it, my friend?”
“Do… Do you have any idea why Ink is tying the refrigerator to the surrounding appliances and cupboards? He says it might run? But it is running and… oh… wait… never mind, I get it now,” Dream sighed with a tired chuckle.
“Ah… yes… I do think I know where he got that idea from,” She said as she moved the phone away from her mouth, trying not to laugh at the mental image that gave her.
Those boys…
#utmv#FuzzyNight#sickfic#Toriel Lyra#Balance!Toriel#Nightmare!Sans#Lyra acting as a momster#Killer!sans#Horror!Sans#Dust!sans#Cross!Sans#the baby brother does get picked on#adults forgetting what adulting means#Sick Dadmare#Nothing a little TLC won't fix#And keeping the boys from anarchy#Ink will get it once Dream restates it to him#Just... with his imaginative mind he expects it to sprout legs and run for it#Heaven forbid Killer and Ink combining their chaos
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Hikari Twins Sickfic
Disclaimer: I am emetophobic and part of my therapy to help me heal is writing about throwing up and what I believe is the proper response to help me get out of my head. That type of illness is the focus of this story, its not in depth but it does happens so please be mindful. Scene begins under the cut. Thanks <3
"How are you feeling Nii-San?" Netto asked as he sat down on the bed.
"I'm okay." Saito yawned. "I'm a little tired."
"Take a nap! It might make you feel better." Netto settled onto the pillow beside his twin.
"Okay." Saito nodded and eventually laid down as well, resting his head on Netto's shoulder.
The older twin had a small procedure for his chest and was doing well, just in the recovery phase.
Saito stared at the ceiling for awhile before eventually being lured to sleep by the sound of his twin's soft breathing.
It was an extended amount of time before Saito finally woke up. He didn’t know why he had woken up, and was slightly frustrated with his sudden awakening, but yawned as he sat up.
"Oh you're awake Nii-San!" Netto said.
Saito glanced and noticed Netto was across the room at the PC (hopefully working on homework).
Saito simply nodded. He didn’t feel right. His throat was warm and his mouth was watering.
"You okay Nii-San?"
"Um...I don't feel good." Saito looked down.
Netto's expression softened. He was hoping the nap would have helped because Saito had mostly been miserable. "What's wrong?"
"Got a weird feeling."
"Like what?" Netto asked. His brother hadn't been human for very long so he was still adjusting to everything in his new body.
"Like its-" And that was unfortunately all Saito could get out before he suddenly threw up.
Netto was immediately by his side, rubbing small circles on his back and holding his hair out the way. He now understood what Saito was trying to tell him.
It seemed to last forever and Saito was frustrated as he had been sitting in the bed. Now there was more stuff to clean.
"Easy Nii-San. It's okay." Netto said softly.
Saito shook his head as he choked back a sob. This sucked!
"Mom! Nii-San's sick!" Netto called as he moved to help Saito lean forward.
"I'm coming dear!" Haruka called back as her footsteps begin to travel up the stairs. It was shortly a minute later when she arrived at the twin's room.
"Oh sweetie." Haruka said as she joined them.
"I'm s-sorry." Saito whispered.
"No apologies." Haruka shushed him. "Netto, let's move Saito-San into the bathroom, I'll take care of the bed okay?"
"Okay!" Netto nodded as Haruka helped Saito out of the bed.
Netto picked his twin up to carry him to the bathroom.
Haruka followed after them with a fresh set of pajamas and water. "Call me if you need me."
Netto and Saito nodded as Haruka left to start cleanning. Netto helped Saito out of his clothes and after a quick shower, helped him into new pajamas.
"Feeling any better Nii-San?"
"No." Saito said hoarsely. Now his throat was hurting too. "I just gave you and mom more work. I'm horrible." The older twin pressed his face into his hands.
"Stop Nii-San. That's not true. You're sick and recovering from surgery. Not only that you're still getting used to having a human body. Things like this happen."
"But your bed-"
"It's fine, worse things have happened to it!" Netto laughed.
"So stop worrying okay?"
"O-Okay." Saito said finally as he nodded. "Thank you Netto-Kun."
"Of course." Netto smiled. "Come on, you need to brush your teeth too."
When the twins came back the bed was made once more and everything was clean and pretty looking (the Haruka touch).
"Back to bed for you dear." Haruka ushered her oldest back into the bed.
As much as Saito wanted to protest he did as was told.
After getting situated, Haruka kissed them both on the head. "You know to call me if you need anything."
They both nodded and with that she left. Saito laid back down and Netto sat up beside him to keep him company.
Their mother had left a basin just in case Saito wasn't feeling well again. Which in the end, Saito was very grateful for as his stomach decided it was not done with him.
Netto was of course ever by his side holding him steady as he clutched the basin tight, hoping and praying the worst would be over soon because the gagging made his chest hurt worse.
"Why...why do...do you stay?" Saito asked quietly as he inhaled as he coughed once more. "Isn't...it gross?"
"I stay because you need me." Netto said instantly as he continued rubbing circles on Saito's back. "How could I leave you when you need me the most? Also you can and would do the same for me. How many times have you stayed by my side whether you were in the PET or not, doing whatever you could to make me feel better when I was stuck in bed? That's what you do when you care about someone."
Saito felt his eyes watering and that he wanted to cry.
"If you're done I can go get Mom."
Saito nodded and Netto called for their mother. Haruka came within a minute's notice, told the twin's she was proud of them, and left to clean the basin out.
Saito mindlessly thought about how his mother was a hero for how she wordlessly took care of them and never complained. She was too nice and deserved the world. When she came back she checked Saito for a fever which he thankfully didn't have.
"No fever which is good. Let me get you a ginger ale and crackers." She handed Saito a towel to clean his face with.
Saito nodded but he felt very tired and laid back down as soon as she left the room. The good thing about being twins was that he didn't have to ask Netto if he could use him as pillow or if they could cuddle. Netto already knew.
And so Saito cuddled up into Netto's side using his twin's stomach as a pillow.
"Comfortable?" Netto asked softly as he put his arm around his older twin.
"Yeah...back hurts." Saito replied tiredly.
"Unfortunately not surprised though." Netto took a pillow and placed it behind Saito. "Try to get some rest if you can. I'll be here."
"M'kay. Thanks Netto...you're the best."
Netto smiled. "Anytime Nii-San. Love you."
"Love you too." And when Haruka came back Saito was thankfully fast asleep.
The oldest twin slept through the whole night easily and the next morning woke up feeling a bit better just empty and exhausted.
"How's my dears doing?" Haruka asked the next morning. Netto hadn't come to get her since the evening so she hoped everything had been alright.
"Better." Saito said hoarsely. "Just weak. And head hurts."
"I'm glad your stomach is better sweetie. Now we just gotta finish letting your chest recover."
Netto was snoring and fast asleep beside Saito. He deserved all the rest he wanted, Saito thought as he squeezed his twin's hand.
"How about a really light breakfast? With some gatorade?"
Saito nodded. His stomach growled now that it had stopped being a jerk. "Yes please."
"I'll get right to it. You guys stay put."
"Can you make Netto hot chocolate?"
"Sure thing. I'm sure he'd love that." Haruka smiled gently.
"I can't make it myself but I just want to thank him even in a small way." Saito smiled a bit. "He rarely gets to have that so."
"Of course. Anything else?"
"No ma'am thank you."
"That's what Momma's are for Saito." Haruka kissed his head once more and left to start breakfast.
Saito sat up in bed and watched a little tv on the laptop making sure to be quiet so Netto could stay sleeping. "I love you Netto. A lot. You mean the world to me."
"Love you...too...Nii-San..." Netto slurred in his sleep but smiled.
#my fanfiction#hikari twins#hikari saito#hikari netto#mmbn#sickfic#emetophobia warning#Phew...really wanted to get this out of my head#rockman.exe#Imagine getting sick like that for the first time I'm sure it absolutely sucks even for someone who isn't afraid#Netto is a really sweet twin brother#He just wants his Nii-San to feel better#Haruka Hikari#Best mom#Therapy and coping
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Here you go @krispzchaps! Have some horrordust :)
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Ateez - Flu - Part 7
It all happened so fast. Much too fast for Hongjoong’s brain to compute. He only snapped out of it when Yeosang, struggling to shoulder San’s dead weight, suddenly yelled out for Seonghwa.
Seonghwa appeared at his door almost instantly, startled awake by Yeosang’s panicked voice. Hongjoong stood motionless with his mouth agape, the box of popsicles that San had just handed him clutched awkwardly against his chest.
San came to fairly quickly once Yeosang and Seonghwa got him to the couch with his feet propped up on a stack of pillows, but for Hongjoong it felt like ages. He could hear Wooyoung crying, which came as a surprise to him. He hadn’t seen Wooyoung get out of bed. And then somebody in the washroom vomiting. Another surprise to Hongjoong. When had somebody gone into the washroom? When did he even leave the washroom for somebody else to go inside?
“Hyung!”
Hongjoong hadn’t noticed that he closed his eyes until they snapped back open at the sound of Jongho’s voice. He heard bits and pieces of what Jongho was saying and he could see Jongho’s eyes growing wider and wider with each passing second.
Hongjoong suddenly felt the wall against his back as his knees gave out underneath him. Jongho’s face, which was much farther away from him than it had been a second ago, seemed suspended in time.
Until he felt two strong hands cupping his face.
“Hyung, don’t close your eyes. What’s wrong?” Jongho’s voice was coming through more clearly now that he was seated.
“Sorry…” Hongjoong replied, trying his keep his eyes open at the very least. “I guess I got startled…”
Apparently he wasn’t very convincing, because Jongho’s grip on his cheeks tightened.
“Hyung don’t fall asleep!”
That confused Hongjoong. Of course he wasn’t going to fall asleep…
…but actually, maybe he was?
*~*~*~*~*~
“You’re a stupid idiot, you know that right?” Seonghwa huffed as Hongjoong shifted awkwardly in his bed, trying to will the daggers in Seonghwa’s eyes to focus elsewhere.
“Is San okay?” Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa’s lecture would be forthcoming but his concern over his dongsaengs needed to be assuaged before he could focus on anything else.
Seonghwa softened at that, taking a seat on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He’s okay, Yeosang and Jongho are tag teaming getting him and Wooyoung to bed.” Hongjoong nodded, soaking in the relative silence before it was broken by a muffled gag from the washroom. Both Seonghwa and Hongjoong cringed at the sound.
“Yunho,” Seonghwa chimed in before Hongjoong even had to ask who it was. “Again.”
Hongjoong hung his head, irritated with himself for taking Seonghwa’s attention away from the others, angry that he couldn’t help take care of his younger members, and overall aggravated that he had managed to get this sick. He was about to send Seonghwa away when Seonghwa seemed to read his mind again.
“Mingi’s got him. Apparently the only thing that will get Mingi to come out of his room when he’s sick is Yunho being sicker.” They both let out a chuckle at that before Jongho appeared in the doorway.
“Wooyoung-hyung is asking for you, Seonghwa-hyung” Jongho said quietly, not wanting to disturb his hyungs, but he and Yeosang had been unable to get Wooyoung to settle down and they were growing concerned that he’d wake San with his whining. Seonghwa nodded, wordlessly stepping out with Jongho before popping his head back into the doorway.
“This conversation isn’t over Joong. Not even in the slightest.”
Hongjoong signed, sinking heavily into his pillows with a few harsh coughs. Of course it wasn’t.
*~*~*~*~*~
Seonghwa was frustrated. And tired.
And Wooyoung was frustrated. And tired. And sick.
Seonghwa wasn’t proud of the fact that he had more or less tricked Wooyoung into downing a dose of NyQuil. He knew that Wooyoung hated medication that made him feel drowsy. He didn’t like the way they made his head swim before they finally knocked him out. But when Jongho held the bottle up behind Wooyoung’s back with a questioning shrug, Seonghwa nodded, assuring Wooyoung it was only cough syrup in order to get him to agree to swallowing it down.
“Bastard…” Wooyoung slurred as he started feeling the pull of sleep.
“I’m sorry Wooyoungie, but you need to sleep. So does San” Seonghwa replied as he closed the door behind him.
So do I.
But he left that part out.
Seonghwa’s body was craving a nap. Now that the adrenaline rush that had resulted from San and Hongjoong going down almost simultaneously was wearing off and the exhaustion from his sleepless night at the hospital with Yunho was setting in again, he wanted - no - needed to sit down. For just a moment.
He didn’t even make it to the couch before he heard Mingi’s voice behind him, followed by a series of sneezes that made Seonghwa pray that he had covered his mouth.
“Hyung” Mingi croaked out. “Yunho…”
Yunho. Shit. Yes. The dongsaeng who was currently headlong in the toilet. His nap would have to wait.
Seonghwa found Yunho lying on the washroom floor with his head in Yeosang’s lap as Yeosang played with his hair.
“Mingi, you need to go to bed, jagi” Seonghwa instructed. Mingi lingered a moment more, meeting Yeosang’s eyes, who nodded and smiled lightly as if to reassure he’d stay with Yunho for as long as he needed. “Please keep the door unlocked, I’ll be in to check on you once I figure out what to do about this…” Seonghwa added, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Yunho and Yeosang.
Mingi nodded, closing his door but not locking it much to his hyung’s relief.
“His pulse is racing, hyung” Yeosang murmured as Seonghwa joined him on the floor.
Dammit, they really needed a bigger washroom. Or maybe he needed smaller dongsaengs. He wasn’t sure.
Gently taking Yunho’s wrist, he brought his focus back to the task at hand. Yeosang hadn’t been exaggerating - racing was the right word for it. There was a real possibility that Yunho had gotten himself dehydrated again after another round of vomiting.
“Jagi, take some deep breaths, okay? Yeosang and I are right here. You can relax” Seonghwa urged. Yunho nodded but took in only a few shallow breaths. “No, not like that. Nice and deep.”
“I know you know how to do it, hyung. I’ve heard you yell” Jongho said from the doorway behind Seonghwa. Seonghwa hadn’t heard Jongho approach but was relieved that his joke got a small smile out of Yunho, who had his eyes closed, trying to focus on his breath. “Put this on the back of his neck” Jongho added quietly, handing Seonghwa a wet cloth from the kitchen. “Give him a few minutes. His water bottle is almost empty. He’s just worked up and anxious, not dehydrated.”
Seonghwa nodded shakily. Jongho’s maturity never ceased to amaze him. Jongho once told him that it “came with the territory” as the oldest sibling. But Seonghwa always knew that it went beyond that. Jongho’s nerves were made of steel, whereas Seonghwa’s own nerves often felt like jelly in these situations.
Seonghwa carefully dropped Yunho’s wrist, turning back to Jongho.
“I hope you don’t mind but I changed the sheets on your bed with the lighter cotton ones. With Wooyoung-hyung in Yunho-hyung’s bed I figured that Yunho-hyung should crash in your room with Joong-hyung. I cleaned up our room and switched Wooyoung-hyung’s nasty sheets out for clean ones so you can sleep there” Jongho paused, allowing Seonghwa’s sleep deprived brain to catch up, then started again. “Yeosang-hyung and I will get Yunho-hyung up when he’s ready. I refilled his water bottle, it’s waiting for him on your bedside table. Now you need to go to bed, hyung. Yunho-hyung told us that you didn’t sleep last night at the hospital.”
“Jongho, no” Seonghwa interjected quickly, shaking his head. “I need to check in with Mingi…”
Jongho interjected immediately. “I’ll take care of Mingi. He doesn’t look like he’s quite ready to head back to bed anyhow” he said, glancing over Seonghwa’s shoulder toward Yunho, who had fallen asleep thanks to Yeosang’s soft touch and the cool cloth that had given him a few minutes of relief from his fever. “We should let him sleep for a few minutes before getting him to bed. He clearly needs it.”
“I don’t want you to get sick, Jongho” Seonghwa replied, desperately trying to stifle the yawn that threatened to work against him in this debate.
“Look around, hyung. I’m going to get sick. You’re going to get sick. Yeosang-hyung is going to get sick. But it’s going to happen a hell of a lot faster if you keep pushing yourself like this on no sleep.”
Seonghwa nodded. He knew Jongho was right. It was only a matter of time before the virus hit the three of them. The best they could do is delay the inevitable, and hopefully a little sleep would help that happen. He turned back to Yeosang, who was still carding his fingers through Yunho’s hair almost robotically at this point. Without even being asked Yeosang smiled sadly, flashing a thumbs up at Seonghwa.
Feeling reassured for the moment, he left Yeosang and Jongho to it. Sleep did sound pretty damn good right now.
#kpop sickfic#kpop fluff#sickfic#ateez fluff#ateez sickfic#yunho sick#yunho fluff#yunho sickfic#sick wooyoung#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung sick#mingi sick#Mingi sickfic#Mingi fluff#San sick#san sickfic#San fluff#hongjoong sickfic#sick hongjoong#Hongjoong fluff
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could you do an emeto wooyoung after livestream one? based on the livestream where hwa, san and him made hwachae and i remember he told san he ate too much and san was rubbing his stomach
Sickie: Wooyoung
Caretakers: Seonghwa and San
Wooyoung p.o.v
I enthusiastically swallowed another bite of the food. "Slow down," San said with a slight smile. “Its so good!”
“youre going to make yourself sick” Seonghwa said, looking fairly concerned. I foolishly ignored his warning. Before long we were preparing to end the live, when I became aware why Seonghwa had warned me about eating too much. My stomach started to ache, I groaned softly, which caused San to look over at me, “what's wrong?”
“stomach hurts” I said softly, he reached over and gently rubbed at my aching stomach, “Told you not to eat so much and so fast.” I avoided his eyes, feeling guilty. Once the camera was off both of my hyungs turned their attention to me. Think I need to throw up” I admitted nervously. Seonghwa rubbed my back gently and helped me stand up. Then him and San led me to the bathroom. They helped me get situated, San stayed by my side and rubbed my back comfortingly. I leaned over the toilet can, swallowing back a painful gag. I really didn't want to throw up. San gently pushed on my abdomen, “You wont feel better until you throw up” I whimpered softly, bracing my body for what was about to come, I felt bad for hwa, who really hated vomit. "hyung I'll be okay, you can leave" I said softly pushing Seonghwa away, "I'll be okay" He assured me, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the uneasy look on his face, "Hwa hyung, you can leave. I'll help him. We'll be okay" I heard San say softly, almost as if whispering away from me. "you can gather our stuff. We'll come out when he's done"
"you guys sure?" I heard him sound unsure, but there was underlying concern and anxiety laced in. "Yes, we'll be okay" San said, while I nodded, grateful for San, who was holding me steady while I fought the gag that threatened to bring a wave of sick up. "alright" he said, I heard him leave. "alright, you can stop fighting it now" San spoke softly, knowing exactly what was going through my brain. I allowed the feeling to take over. I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe in too deeply as I threw up, I cringed at the sound of it hitting the water. "You're okay" San said softly, as he rubbed my back comfortingly. I leaned away from the toilet and against San's body, "Take a deep breath for me bud" He said he reached over me and flushed the vomit away, thankfully a good amount of the smell vanished with it. I breathed, allowing myself to curl against San's warm and comforting body. "feel better now?" I took a deep breath and thought for a second, "actually yeah. My stomach is still tender, but not awfully painful like it was before" San smiled and ruffled my hair, "told you that you were eating too fast" He helped me to my feet. We left the bathroom, Seonghwa was waiting out the door for us, "feeling better?" I nodded. "a lot better actually"
"we did warn you. Maybe listen next time" Seonghwa said nudging my arm. I blushed.
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Summary: When he opens their bedroom door, he's hit by a pungent rotten acidic smell. It flips his own stomach and makes him put his knuckles over his lips. The smell is reminiscent of vomit, and his stomach instantly desires similar release. His disdain for his boyfriend vanishes immediately. He buries his own ill misery, replacing it with worry for his younger partner.
Pairing: Woosan (NonIdol AU) - established relationship
Words: 3511
Warnings: Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Vom!ting || Fever || Fake Illness
Wooyoung has been planning this for weeks. A lot of time and research and actual money has gone into pulling off probably the greatest prank of their couples vlogging career. This specific prank seems to be trending right now, as he's seeing all the other couples they follow posting similar videos- "pranking my boyfriend by pretending to sick" and "will my boyfriend take care of me when I'm sick?" He binge watched all of them and found the content to be very cute. Even the gentle scoldings after the prank is revealed.
And in typical Wooyoung fashion, he wants to show off how abundantly caring his boyfriend is to the whole world. Or to their 307k subscribers anyway. After all, it was his idea to start the channel. And he puts the most effort into making the videos, editing the footage and adding effects. So with San away on a business trip, he sets the plan into motion.
He researches the best way to fake symptoms, leading him to the purchase of a thermometer that always reads a fever and a grotesque recipe for fake vomit. He hoards dryer lint, knowing it makes him sniffly and sings loudly in their empty apartment, intending to make his voice hoarse.
San hasn't told him what time his flight leaves, only that he'll "be back Friday morning." Wooyoung pouted and complained at that answer, but San stood his ground. He probably wants it to be a surprise. Well, two can play at that game. He sets everything up the night before San's anticipated return. He doesn't want to risk anything spoiling his prank. Pranking is his speciality.
He's got a box of tissues, medicine packets, bottled water, and the prank thermometer sitting on his bedside table. Hiding under the bed are a mist bottle of warm water and the jar of fake vomit. He's even set a bucket next to the bed and poured some of the fake vomit into it to really sell that he's been sick for a while. It smells terrible. It's perfect.
And of course, he camouflages the camera in the far corner of their room, angling the lense toward their shared bed to capture the exact moment San walks in and finds him ill.
He's already filmed his whole preparation process, ensuring to keep his viewers in on the prank. He's even started editing that footage already. All that's left is to really play the part. He puts on his fluffiest pajamas (keeping his baggie of dryer lint in the chest pocket for easy access) and settles into bed, ready for his plan to unfold.
He sleeps peacefully through the night, but startles awake at the sound of San's obnoxiously loud keychain jostling on his hip. Usually, he hates the thing. But for today's purposes, he's thankful that San chooses to sound like a human tambourine everywhere he goes. When he hears the door to their apartment unlatch, he quickly pulls the mist bottle out from under the bed. He sprays some around his sheets and some on his face before throwing it back under the bed. He starts rolling the camera, then quickly lays back down, ready for San to find him.
San sighs heavily as he lets himself into the apartment. He rips off his coat, feeling uncomfortably warm in his only layer aside from a loose-fitting t-shirt. He kicks off his shoes and abandons his luggage by the door, not even caring to unpack. He just wants to crawl into bed, ideally snuggled up beside his boyfriend.
He'd started feeling unwell the second day of the trip. He originally blamed it on the foreign food, but the more his symptoms progress, he thinks that maybe his seatmate on his departure flight wasn't just pale due to air sickness like he'd originally assumed.
It was a hellish trip, but he was able to maintain productivity in order to return Friday, like he had promised. And was rewarded with a few days off. He'd originally planned to spend those days spoiling Wooyoung. Now he thinks he'll use them to recover from whatever illness his immune system failed to prevent.
But no use dwelling on it further. He's finally home. Instead he shuffles his way to the bedroom, barely having the energy to lift his feet. He notices that the apartment is mostly unkempt. Dishes unwashed, belongings out of place, trash peeking out over the rim of the receptacle. He scoffs at the sight, mentally cursing the man he calls his boyfriend. He knows the younger isn't much for housework, but he wonders what's been keeping him so busy he couldn't load the dishwasher. Hopefully, once Wooyoung sees how sick he is, he'll clean it up. Otherwise, it will be left in disarray until he feels better.
When he opens their bedroom door, he's hit by a pungent rotten acidic smell. It flips his own stomach and makes him put his knuckles over his lips. The smell is reminiscent of vomit, and his stomach instantly desires similar release. His disdain for his boyfriend vanishes immediately. He buries his own ill misery, replacing it with worry for his younger partner.
San swallows thickly, taking large strides to Wooyoung curled up so small under the covers. He takes in the scene of obvious illness that's settled around the room, side-eying the sick bucket on the floor as the source of the unpleasant smell.
He gently brushes Wooyoung's bangs away to feel his forehead. He's not noticeably warm, but sweat coats his face and their bedsheets. Relief washes over him, thinking he must have already sweat the fever out.
Despite San's touch being feather-light, Wooyoung starts to stir and open his eyes, slowly of course to remain in-character. "Baby, you're home." Wooyoung's voice is perfectly hoarse, all according to plan. Still, he tacks on a chesty cough for effect.
"I just got back," San strokes along the younger's hairline. "Is my Wooyoungie not feeling very well?"
Wooyoung just shakes his head with a pout, adding a few shivers. San responds by pulling the blanket up to his chin. "How was your trip?" The younger asks.
San smiles at his sick dongsaeng, ruffling his hair. "Business as usual" is his simple reply. Leaving out all the bits of his own experiences with illness. "I'll tell you all about it when you're feeling better."
"Kay," Wooyoung yawns, nuzzling himself closer to San.
The smell of the bucket beside the bed demands his attention. The effect the putrid odor has on him is becoming too hard to ignore. His stomach gurgles and bubbles in anger the longer he's crouched beside it. "Baby, I'm going to wash this out okay? Do you think you'll need it anytime soon?" When Wooyoung shakes his head, San grabs the bucket holding it far away from his face and rushes to the bathroom.
He pours the contents into the toilet bowl and flushes all in one quick motion. While he's filling the bucket with water, he uses the sound of the running tap to mask his own gagging. He spits up a mouthful of sick he easily recognizes as the in-flight meal he begrudgingly stomached a few hours ago into the toilet and grimaces. Airline food hardly looks good the first time, but the second time is menacing.
But he doesn't have time to wallow in his own disgust. Not when Wooyoung needs him. He takes a few deep breaths and shakes out the fog from his head. Taking a long look in the mirror, he tries to convince himself it's jetlag. He hopes he could convince Wooyoung, too, should the younger notice his pallor. He flushes his own sick and brings the rinsed bucket back to the bedroom.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung is exacerbating his own symptoms with a smug smile of success. In San's absence, he not only refreshes the misting he'd applied earlier, but also takes a long whiff of the dryer lint in his pocket. The reaction was almost immediate. He's a watery-eyed, sniffling mess when San returns with the bucket.
San sets the bucket aside and sits on the edge of the bed. He plucks a tissue from the conveniently placed box and starts dabbing the younger's waterline. "What hurts, jagiya?"
"Everything," Wooyoung whimpers in such a pitiful way, he thinks he deserves an Oscar for his performance.
"I'm sorry you weren't feeling well and I wasn't here," he wants to lean over and comfort Wooyoung with a soft kiss, but he doesn't want to further compromise the younger's immune system by introducing new germs. Or vice versa. He settles for scalp scratches, which Wooyoung leans into. "You just rest, hyung will take good care of you now."
"Thank you, Sannie." Wooyoung coos as he starts to drift off.
San eyes the thermometer on the side table and it seemingly reminds him. "Don't fall asleep just yet, let me take your temperature first." He pleads, and Wooyoung opens his mouth obediently.
When the thermometer reads 39.2 degrees, San's eyes widen like saucers. Wooyoung hadn't felt that warm. But he resolves that maybe he's sporting a fever and it's making Wooyoung feel cooler to touch. "You’re burning. I'm going to get you a cool cloth," he rushes off with the thermometer in hand.
In the bathroom again he rinses the thermometer and sticks it under his own tongue. When it beeps, he reads 39.0 degrees. Wooyoung still has a higher fever. So he needs more attention. He returns with a bowl of ice water and a washcloth. He takes good care to ring it out and places it carefully on Wooyoung's head.
"Rest up, now. I'll fix you something to eat, then you can take medicine and have a shower. The bedsheets need to be changed anyway." San dictates a pretty organized plan, though he has low hopes of the success rate.
"Choi San, my guardian angel," Wooyoung slurs with a thick sniffle. "I love you," he puckers his lips expectantly.
"I love you too." San resists the urge again to kiss his sickly boyfriend. Instead he pats Wooyoung's thigh and exits the bedroom. Their living room futon has never looked more inviting. He throws himself onto it, completely spent.
He wants to be the doting boyfriend Wooyoung deserves him to be. But his own illness is catching up to him disapointingly quickly. With Wooyoung napping, he's bought himself time to rest. He thinks about cooking something, but the thought of being around food enrages his stomach. And his head feels trapped in a thick fog. He can't guarantee his own safety in the kitchen.
So he opens the delivery app on his phone and orders some comfort foods to be dropped off at the door. As soon as he sees the confirmation screen, his eyes slip closed entering into a restless sleep.
Alone in the bedroom, Wooyoung is feeling a little disappointed. San is doing a great job at taking care of him. He's unknowingly showing off his gentler, domestic side to their fans. But there's been a severe lack of cuddling. San didn't even kiss him in greeting. San always kisses him after a business trip, to make up for all the missed kisses while he was away. He even rejected Wooyoung's kiss request. Physical touch is Wooyoung's primary love language. And San's not being very physical affectionate.
In their four years together, Wooyoung has gotten sick more times than he can count. And without fail San had always cuddled with him. San never withheld kisses out of fear for his own health. San never ever left him alone to nap. The thought flickers through his mind that San is onto his trick, but he dismisses it. Impossible, he's been in-character the whole time. He just needs to up the ante for more attention.
He uncovers the hidden jar of fake vomit, ready to draw back San's attention. He opens the lid. And after a few wet sounding coughs, he loudly pours the contents into the empty bucket. The sound echoes, and the stench of the chunky liquid is even worse after a night of fermenting. The acid smell almost makes his eyes water. But at least the next few coughs are real, gagging on the stench. It helps make the whole presentation more believable.
San wakes to the sound of liquid hitting plastic, and jumps up when he hears Wooyoung coughing. It doesn't take long for him to piece the two together, despite his fevered haze. And he's in the bedroom before he even realizes his legs moved. He sees Wooyoung cradling the bucket in his lap, face over the rim and spitting into it. His breathing is ragged, exhausted.
"Hyung," Wooyoung whimpers, "I threw up again. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
The whole experience is too much for San's senses. The smell turns his stomach, Wooyoung's high pitched voice which he usually loves rattles a new headache. He suddenly feels too hot and too cold at the same time, feels a fat bead of sweat drip toward his brow. But Wooyoung needs him.
He takes two clumsy steps before he bends at the waist, vomiting whatever’s left in his stomach onto the foot of their bed.
For the first time, Wooyoung breaks character. San's never been one to get sympathy sick. So Wooyoung immediately knows it’s an expression of illness. He spares a millisecond glance to the camouflaged camera before rounding the bed, grabbing San before he collapses into his own mess.
"Wooyoung," San sputters, a line of saliva dangling from his lips. Wooyoung's arms are wrapped around his waist, the only thing keeping him upright. He tries to pull himself away, using the edge of the bed for support. "Get back in bed. I'm okay."
"No you're not, hyung. You just threw up." Wooyoung is not the strongest, but he has no trouble escorting San to his side of the bed. He gets San to lean against the headboard, away from the vomit stain. "Will you throw up again?" Before San has a chance to answer, the younger walks over to pick up the bucket filled with his fake vomit just in case.
San lets out a belch as the smell wafts before him, but it's dry and unproductive. He shakes his head at the question, assumingly empty, and turns his nose away from the foul smelling bucket. He's convinced he'll feel better once it's gone.
Wooyoung takes the hint and sets the bucket aside to be cleaned later. He presses the back of his hand to the older's forehead. "Sannie, you're burning up!"
"It's jetlag," he scripts despite how ridiculous it sounds. When Wooyoung doesn’t budge, he quickly changes tactics. "You're sick too. You shouldn't be worrying about me."
There's a lump in Wooyoung's throat and a guilty look in his eye. This wasn't how he'd envisioned the content to turn out. This wasn't how he wanted to reveal the prank. He feels real nausea from the guilt, but fights it back and confronts the truth, "I'm actually not sick, Sannie." His cheeks flood red with embarrassment, "I wanted to do a prank video. For our channel."
"But the vomit?"
"It's just a combination of vinegar, milk, and bread."
"I took your temperature. You were over 39 degrees."
"The thermometer isn't accurate. I bought it for the prank." Wooyoung scurries off to the bathroom and San notices there's not a falter to his step. He comes back with their actual thermometer. He puts the tip in his ear and waits for the beep. "See, 36.9."
San still looks unconvinced. "The sniffling," Wooyoung exposes the lint baggie. "And the sweating," Wooyoung presents the mist bottle.
San's eyes widen, then sharpen into a glare as he scans the room for the camera. He catches a small glimpse of a reflective surface tucked into their accent plant and points at it. "How long have you been filming?"
Wooyoung's head hangs in shame. He fidgets with his fingers in his lap, unsure of anything else to do with them. Instinct kicks in and he wants to put his hands on San, but he’s sure the older doesn’t want that right now. "Since you got home."
San pouts. He's exhausted as his illness settles in. He craves Wooyoung's nurturing. But he's simultaneously angry at Wooyoung for needlessly worrying him. It's a war inside his head that brings a pulsing pain with each new thought. "I'm going to take a shower." He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, squinting his eyes as dizziness sweeps over him.
"Do you need my help?" Wooyoung offers, also noticing that San is in no condition to escort himself. Out of habit, he wraps an arm around San's shoulders to support him. But San just shrugs him off, hoisting himself off the bed and slowly making his way to their bathroom. Wooyoung takes the hint, despite how much it hurts. He gives San space.
While San's in the shower, Wooyoung tidies the bedroom. He removes the soiled bed sheets and replaces them with a fresh pair. He discards his props, and sets up San's night stand with the necessities. Amidst the chores, Wooyoung hears their doorbell and finds the food San had ordered hanging from the handle. The blonde smiles at the two containers of samgyetang.
San emerges from the bathroom dressed in his comfy lounge wear. He doesn't smell vomit when he enters the bedroom, which is a relief. The bedding is changed, turned down on his side, and he settles right in. Wooyoung had everything set up for him. There's medicine on the nightstand. The bucket has been cleaned again and set down for emergencies. And their real thermometer is leaning against his reading lamp. The only thing missing is Wooyoung.
Maybe Wooyoung really left him alone to take care of himself. He knows Wooyoung would never do that, but the thought still stings. He curls up under the covers and tells himself that Wooyoung didn't do anything wrong. He tells himself that Wooyoung wouldn’t have tried to prank him if he’d known. He convinces himself not to be mad at his best friend. He even blames himself for not telling Wooyoung he’d gotten sick during the trip. Thinking about it nearly pulls him to tears.
Wooyoung enters the room slowly, carrying a lap tray. "Do you mind if I come in?" He asks cautiously from the doorway. San, nearly on the verge of sleep, perks up at the sound of Wooyoung's voice. "If you need time, I get it. I just want to make sure you eat something. You won’t feel better on an empty stomach." The small laugh that follows is the most awkward sound San has ever heard.
"Come here," the older encourages, scooting a bit to make room for Wooyoung.
Wooyoung tries not to feel too excited as he carries the tray inside. He's still feeling guilty about how everything turned out. He needs to make amends. He sets the tray off to the side and sits on the bed. "I'm so sorry, Sannie-hyung. I didn't mean to overwork you. What can I do to make it up to you?"
San shuffles under covers, a mischievous look on his face. He nudges Wooyoung with his knee until he falls off the edge landing with a thud on the ground. The older chuckles a bit at the pout on Wooyoung's face. It makes him feel just a little bit better. Reminds him of why he loves the high-maintenance blonde. "You can start by taking care of me," he shivers, "I’m too tired to stay mad at you.”
Wooyoung hops off the floor and climbs beside San is the bed, cuddling him and playing with his hair. He leaves feather light kisses against his boyfriend's warm forehead. "Of course I'll take care of you, Sannie. You're in good hands."
San hums in content, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Wooyoung's chest. "Can I keep filming? I want all of our fans to know that I can take really good care of you, too." Wooyoung asks, eyeing the discrete camera that's already captured the whole altercation.
San smirks. Wooyoung always bounces back so quickly. It's an endearing quality. "As long as you include the earlier footage of you apologizing to me for faking."
Wooyoung is never too proud to admit his mistakes. Another endearing quality. "Guess we'll split this episode into two parts then." He looks at the camera, then at San again. The older nuzzles close to him. Wooyoung reaches for the bowl without disturbing San’s position. When Wooyoung holds out the full spoon, San just opens his mouth expectantly.
San eats half the bowl before he can’t stomach any more. He starts to doze off, so Wooyoung quickly gets him to take a dose of medicine. San’s compliant as ever, ready to snuggle up with Wooyoung and sleep until he feels better. Wooyoung whispers, not enough for the camera to hear, "Just rest now. I'll be right here." San believes him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: A woosan fic, as promised. Though I must admit, not the one I was working on when I first said I was writing one. I found a new guilty pleasure and had to write a fic about it. I'll be the first to admit I'm not totally satisfied with it. I've been fidgeting with this fic for weeks. I feel rusty after not writing anything for so long. But hopefully getting back into it will help me regain my confidence. So let's see how this goes.
As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!
#ateez#ateez sickfic#ateez emeto#ateez fever#sick!San#fakesick!Wooyoung#caretaker!San#caretaker!Wooyoung#ateez nonidol au#woosan#tw emeto#tw fever#tw fake illness#aki sickfic#aki writes
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More Like "Sicktuplets"
*Slaps knee* It's a Pun! Anyway, part one of a mini, two part sicfick. (While mostly platonic, there is some ~minor~ suggestive humor near the begining!)
~
Even from the kitchen, you could hear the occasional groan from upstairs and a small empathetic sigh left your mouth as you held the large bowl of ice under the sink, filling it with water and gradually placing the rolled-up washcloths you had stacked by the side into it. There weren't any ice packs, so these would have to do for now.
When you were finished, you headed back upstairs, a bowl of ice water now in hand, and were immediately called out to not a second after reentering the bedroom. Your eyes scanned the room of resting figures until they landed on the oldest of the sick sextuplets who had managed to prop himself up and wave at you from the spot by the wall where he was laying, trying to get your attention with an unusually eager grin for someone in his condition.
"Yyyyyy/n~ Over here! Come here first!" He called, finally falling back onto his futon when you began making your way over to him.
What had started as a simple precaution to separate the sick from the healthy resulted in each one of them sleeping on a separate futon in different corners of the room. Considering that all six of them had managed to catch the bug at this point, it wouldn't hurt for them to move back to the large one they usually shared but something told you getting any of them up to move would be more trouble than it was worth.
"Alrighty, you first then." You rolled your eyes, watching Oso's tired smile grow sly as you approached. Kneeling down, you made yourself comfortable on the floor by him on your knees and set your bowl down beside you.
"So...what'd you bring me?" He half slurred with an eager grin, but despite his tone, you could tell he was struggling to keep up his usual playful nature in your presence.
"Well, there's not too much I can do to speed up you guys' recovery at this point, but these should help you feel a little better at least." You reached into the bowl of ice water with both hands, wringing out a cloth and folding it into a neat rectangle before moving to press it to his forehead. His wise-ass smirk dropped to surprise at your gentle motion and he cringed at first when the cool cloth came in contact with his face, but a much more genuinely relieved smile slowly washed over him and he sprawled his limbs out comfortably when you rested it on his forehead.
"Oh, that is nice!" He sighed, closing his eyes. "Thanks~"
"You might feel even better if you cleaned up a bit." You pointed out, still applying a slight pressure to the cool rag, but motioned to the mess around his futon with your free hand. There were chip bags, soda bottles, and used tissues scattered all around him. A mess that could have been completely avoided had he put in just the littlest effort to toss them in the direction of the small garbage bin not three feet away. It was for that reason you weren't about to pick it up for him, sick or not.
"Hey, I like it like this. Got everything I need right here!" Oso winked and lazily reached over into the mess without looking, pulled out some kind of half-full bottled beverage, and took a swig before throwing it to the side once more. "See?"
"Oookay." You rolled your eyes again. "At least change, it can't feel good lying around in that gross-ass hoody while you have a fever." You reasoned with a grimace, wiping your wet hands off on your pant legs.
"My hoodie?" He questioned and propped himself up on one arm again, gripping the front of his hoodie to pull it out and look down at it. "Guess it is pretty nasty, huh?"
You nodded, scooting back to lift yourself off the ground. "You want like a t-shirt or something?" You offered, prepared to go grab him a change of clothes
"Nah, I'm good." He said, voice muffled by his hoddie as he slid it over and off of his head, revealing the thin black tank top he wore underneath. His hoodie was tossed to the side, landing amongst the garbage that surround him while he decided to strike a pose, propping his head on his hand with a smirk. "Like what you see? I wouldn't undress for just anybody ya know." He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you had to cover your mouth, physically stifling a snort. "Who am I kidding? Yeah I would!"
"Ah yes, nothing gets me going like a man with a 102° fever." You joked, reaching over him to pull his discarded hoodie out of the mess. "We're gonna wash this." You added, changing the subject as you folded it in half and tucked it under your arm before finally standing back up.
"And girls say I'm not a hottie!" He continued, rolling limply onto his back again and closing his eyes but peaked one open again to see your reaction.
You let out another amused huff as you picked the dish of ice water back up as well. Throwing his hoodie over your shoulder, you squatted back down and used your free hand to place the cold rag back onto his forehead. "You're hilarious, Oso." You remarked sarcastically. Puns aren't usually his style, but you guess it was easy humor since he wasn't feeling well.
"I mean, I thought it was getting hotter in here but may it's just y-" What was the start of an awful pick-up line was cut short when out of nowhere, a tissue box came flying through the air, narrowly avoiding you and beaming him right in the face.
Even sick he was quick to jump to his feet, balling his fists and stomping his foot as the two of you looked around the room for the culprit. "Who the hell threw that?!" But whoever it was must have been quick to retreat, because everyone you could see either had their back turned or was tucked into their futon. "I'm serious! Own up or right now or I'll beat the answer out of ya!" He shook a fist and began stomping forward but you held a hand out to stop him.
"Okay, that's enough, lay down. You're gonna get lightheaded yelling like that." You tried to be serious but couldn't help smiling as you eased him back down. The last thing you needed was them fighting right now. He grumbled something under his breath but you must have been right about him getting light-headed because he listened and sat back down quickly, his angry expression mellowing as you helped cover him back up. "Now take it easy."
"Don't gotta tell me twice..." He agreed, resting an arm behind his head as you moved on to the next and closest futon a few yards away.
As soon as he saw you coming, Karamatsu flailed himself out of his futon into an upright position, sitting with his arm and legs crossed. "Why, hello there, Y/n~," He remarked cooly and you lowered yourself to your knees to sit in front of him like you had with Osomatsu.
"Hi, Karamatsu, how ya doing?" You asked, a tone of knowing in your voice.
"Why I'm doing just fine, why do you ask?" He flashed a pose, resting his pointer finger and thumb under his chin
"Really?" You furrowed a brow at him.
"Of course~ You need not worry yourself with my wellbeing, I'm not the kind to succumb to little things such as this." He insisted, but your eyes fell to the feverish red plaguing his face.
"Karamatsu..." You said his name seriously, leaning forward which seemed to make him lean further back, the fake cool expression he was putting up immediately getting a little nervous when you rested the back of your hand on his forehead, slowly moving it down to his cheek. "You're still burning up." You said sadly, pulling your hand away.
"Haha! Tis only the fires of passion that burn deep within, ignited by my concern for those that I love!" He balled his hand into a fist, shaking it with a played-up righteous vigor.
"Tis a fever actually." You chuckled and pinched the corner of his sunglasses between your fingers. "Am I gonna have to take these too?" You already had to hide his jacket since he refused to settle down without it and hot leather and a fever don't really mix well.
"N-no!" He backed away, pulling his knees up to his chest and holding his sunglasses to his face protectively. "That won't be necessary!"
"Oh yeah, why not?" You asked, noticing right away that his reaction was fueled by a little more than the usual attachment to his unique sense of style.
"No reason! I'd just like to keep them on is all. The light in here, it...hurts my eyes!" You guess that was possible since he was sick, but you couldn't help but be suspicious.
"Karamatsu..."
"H-hm?" He made a nervous sound, glancing in your direction briefly but avoided meeting your gaze the best he could. Poor dork couldn't lie to save his life.
"Come on, you should lay down. I brought some cool towels for the coolest guy in town but they won't help too much if you don't rest up." You tried your best to give him a comforting grin.
"Ehh?!" That feverish red on his cheeks was almost overshadowed by a blush but he instead moved to squeeze his knees, almost as if he was scared to comply.
"Here." You reached forward once again, using both hands to slowly take hold of and pull off his sunglasses. He didn't stop you this time, instead, a shameful look on his face when you finally met his eyes.
Your heart sank right away. There were puffy, dark circles around his eyes, and you could only assume that's what he'd been trying to hide because, after a few moments of having locked eyes with you, he turned away embarrassed.
"Haven't been able to get any sleep, huh?" You questioned rhetorically with an understanding tilt of your head. "You should have said something, I can get you some more ibuprofen."
"That won't be necessary." He spoke up quickly, resuming his normal, dramatic tone. "It's only natural that I stay up. I'm one of the eldest, after all, that makes it my duty to remain vigilant while my younger brothers recover." He spoke as if that explained everything, and in a way, it did, just not in the way he was probably hoping.
"Ah, I see." You paused, smiling sympathetically. "You couldn't sleep last night because you were worried about your brothers." That was just like him, you don't know how you didn't realize sooner. "That's really sweet of you." And just like that, his cool demeanor was gone and he was red in the face and avoiding eye contact again. "But!", You added firmly, "You're sick now too, and as one of the eldest, I think that also makes it your job it get better as fast as possible." He seemed surprised by your words, staring half agape as you continued. "And that's not gonna happen unless you take it easy too." He was back to looking ashamed again, so you kept going. "I'll keep an eye on them for you, I promise. So do you think you could rest up, for me?"
He pursed his lips, swallowing hard as if it was hard for him to accept what you were saying. "Alright!" He finally yelled, squeezing his eyes shut with a bow and you brought a finger to your lips, motioning to the others laying around the room and he quickly shushed himself, taking another apologetic bow.
"Awesome." You celebrated your small victory, helping him lay back down and tucking him in. "Here," you folded his sunglasses shut, setting them by his futon on the floor in a spot that looked safe from getting stepped on. "These'll be right here when you start feeling better, but for now..." You reached into your bowl of ice water, wringing a cloth out and slowly pressing it to his forehead. He was so tense at first that you almost felt a little bad, even closing his eyes as it made contact but you smiled softly as you watched him visibly relax, a calm smile of his own washing over his face as he let out a long, relieved sigh.
"Better?" You asked, and he gave you a thumbs up, even flashing that stupid, flamboyant smile he always does. "Good to hear." Mission accomplished, you stepped back and gathered your stuff up. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" You added as you stood to move on to your next "patient."
"T-thank you!" He stuttered out in what was almost a yell and you turned back to him with a nod and a 'Don't mention it.' What a sweetheart.
Finally an easy one. Choromatsu must have seen you coming because he was already peaking up over the edge of his blanket, ducking under briefly when you dropped to your knees at his side. Probably because he was the first of the sextuplets to get sick, his fever wasn't quite as bad compared to the others, but it seemed to be hanging on just as stubbornly.
"Your turn!" You cheered, clapping your hands together.
"You really didn't have to come over you know. We would have been okay." He said kind of sadly but was still obviously welcoming of your help, already pulling his covers down to his chest and bracing himself for your gentle hand.
"Yeah, I know, but Todomatsu sounded so bad on the phone so I wanted to check up, and long as you don't mind me helping, I don't mind sticking around to help." You reached into your bowl of ice water yet again, pulling out a dripping cloth.
"Tch, that's cause that big baby has never had to take care of himself before. With mom and dad on vacation, if we weren't sick too, he would have whined up a storm until one of us caved and played nurse for him."
"Is that what I'm doing?" You wrung the cloth out tightly, raising a brow with a smirk. "Playing nurse?"
"What?! no! I mean...you're just-" He began backtracking right away, sitting up to wave his hands defensively until you pressed the cloth slowly to his head and he melted into the coolness, falling right back down onto his pillow. "You're just...being nice." He whispered that last part, still somewhat flustered as he pulled his blanket up to his face again.
"No worries, Choro." You patted his head. "You guys are my friends, so this is no big thing. You've been pretty easy patients so far anyway." You assured him, balling a fist and pounding your chest proudly. "Nothing I can't handle!"
"Just don't let them take advantage of you, okay? I can see a few of them trying to milk this for all it's worth..." He frowned, side-eyeing his eldest brother from across the room.
Your aura grew dark and you gripped your bowl of ice water with a promising smirk while Choromatsu swallowed nervously. "I'd like to see them try."
"Anyway!" Your tone returned to normal and you stood yourself back up with a smile. "I'm gonna keep going, just call me if you need anything!"
"O-okay, thank you!" He nodded quickly, and you gave him a thumbs up as a 'your welcome' as you moved on.
Glancing down into the ice water, you grinned triumphantly at the remaining cloths.
Three down, three to go!'
#mr. osomatsu#osomatsu san#osomatsu#karamatsu#choromatsu#Ya see#now I need to balance finishing this before my hyperfixation changes#and not making myself resent finishing it by forcing myself to write#to eveyone waiting on the final chapter of my sfm sickfic I am so sorry#Anyway I'm having a lot of fun with these dorks#gotta get used to writing them though#so my apologies#this is very rough#so consider it practice#Also!#To ZizzyBlack: I saw your tags on my last Osomatsu-san post and they gave me life#thank you ♡#Oso's a perv there's no avoiding that#his dialog will probably be the closest to suggestive content I will ever have in my writing#gotta keep the little creep in character
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I started working on another story.
Have a sneak peek on 'Heart and Soul':
"They were losing their patience. The little rat was practically money on legs and they wanted that money, they never saw so many zeros on a missing poster.
How could the little shit even keep running like that? After everything they knew, everyone with access to media knew, the twerp was supposed to be easy to catch.
But. He. Just. Kept. Going.
They followed him around the corner, fearing for a hot second they could have lost him, but they saw him running down the empty street, heading for the bridge.
They collected their remaining stamina and ran after him.
Somewhere closer to the other side he finally had to stop, gasping for air and fighting to not just collapse against the railing.
"Got- gotcha," one of the thugs panted out, they all were out of breath. "Giving... up finally?... Ya... can't run... for... forever."
Their prey stood with his back to them, bent over with his hands pressed on his legs right above the knees to not just topple over. He turned his head to look at them over his left shoulder. A dim white light flashing at them briefly, before he turned his face back ahead, not saying anything. Just fighting for breath.
"Don't... make it harder... than it... had to be," gasped another of the gang. "Just... just let us... bring you h-... home."
The small figure didn't react at all to that. At first.
Then he forced his breathing to calm down, straightened up and answered, "only over my dusted body."
His next move came unexpected.
Instead of running off again, he closed the distance to the railing with two quick steps and used the momentum to hurl himself over it and disappeared in the wild raging river beneath them with a faint splash."
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