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sickfic prompts

The winner of prompt pick! Jaskier gets injured, and Geralt has to hurt him to help him, ft. Jaskier talking Geralt through what to do to help him. Great work as usual, Geralt. His heart is slamming against his ribs, and then his vision begins to gray around the edges, darkness pushing forward across his eyes, his mind, until he blacks out. Keep reading. Jaskier puts his hands up in mock surrender. NOTE: Remember that some people go through these scenarios every single day. Please be respectful and considerate when including them in your writing. He sleeps only a little, catching one to three hours a day but subconsciously not allowing his body to slip into REM, and his growing exhaustion goes relatively unnoticed until he wakes at three am after nodding off in a chair in his room with a medical book on his lap to a scratchy throat and a slight hint of pressure pushing behind his eyes. He slips to his feet, quietly resting the book on the chair, and he pads softly across his room to the bathroom, flicking the lights on with a wide yawn. His reflection leaves much to be desired, a pale, drawn man with deep purple bags under his eyes staring back at him. Had to piss. Rolling his eyes, TK gets to his feet, reaching a hand out toward Owen. He pulls him to his feet, a frown threatening to pull at his lips at the ease. More question-based dialogue to include in your writing. Be creative and use these in any context you desire. And this was definitely one of those times. The kid had been in the same position for hours with Tony next to him for just about the entire time as well. At first, he had thought it was just too much junk food or maybe food poisoning from the take out they had earlier. Peter had gotten sick before from all of the crazy crap he ate, but it was never that bad. But this was different. He knew it was the moment he walked into the bathroom and saw Peter hugging the toilet bowl as he retched. But then he was back at it again minutes later. That had been hours ago and Peter was still on the bathroom floor. He was throwing up everything Tony tried giving him. Medicine, Gatorade, ice chips…he was keeping none of it down and by now he was just dry heaving into the bowl. He was only upright because he had his cheek resting on the seat of the toilet and Tony was holding him up. His body shook every time he stuck his head back into the bowl and retched. Nothing was coming up and it hurt Tony to see how hard Peter was trying to get something to come up just so that it would stop. His skin was so white except for the dark bruises underneath his eyes. He looked…scary. Like a living skeleton. Love this! Nice and fresh idea! Brief mentions of the no no berry fic! It warps his surroundings, his vision growing too large and round to too small and curved, blurry images. Hunger has him feeling faint, walking across a rope bridge swaying over a canyon, and it brings forth hot desperation that he voices to Geralt over and over. He pulls his focus to the steady warmth that radiates a hint of power through touch alone.

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.


Yes, it was often he was sick, but not as awful as he felt now. He felt like he was gonna fall right over. Yet, today he knew he had to skip. Jeremy sluggishly walked downstairs and greeted his dad also know as the Squip cuz this is an au. Can I stay home from school? Jeremy was furious, yet he was too tired to put up an argument. Look Michael, I told him this time! I actually told him I felt too sick to go to school! And you know what he said? He said if I was really sick I would go to school because I always lie about being healthy!! He shook on unstable legs and a tear or two slipped out of his eyes. Jeremy nodded and clung onto Michael for support. He refused to stand up more than he needed to. Jeremy groaned. He hated it when other people took his temperature. They always put it in too rough and caused either his throat or ear, depending on what type of thermometer to be using, to be sore. Only his dad and Michael were gentle with him. You should be in bed, with no electronics, sleeping! You need to stop coming to school sick! I swear I did! The illness made it foggy for him to remember what had happened early that day. He was too tired for this. He felt his body being picked up. Jeremy woke up in his bed. He groaned and tried to blow his stuffed up nose using his shirt sleeve. I really appreciate that you told me this time! The Squip handed him another tissue and Jeremy blew his nose again. But, to m'bake it up to m'be, could you stay with m'be? All the sneezing was making him tired. Jeremy yawned and closed his eyes. Hey guys!! Do you like be more chill? Well this is Be More Chill Whumpukkah! It takes place during hannukah, and will be super fun! Well, BMC whumpukkah is 8 days where you can write fanfics, draw comics or drawings, make videos, or do anything related to be more chill whump based on a prompt for each day! Everything and everyone is accepted, and we'll reblog it onto here for everyone to see!! Remember to tag us bmc-whumpukkah!! Well, we will accept work late, and we will also be fine with you skipping days!

voltron sickfic


This prompt really went places, let me tell you. Blink, Peter mutters to himself, mask gripped in between a tight fist while his other hand holds onto the support bar above. Breathe slower, he mentally gripes to himself, noting with a frown that his heart is quickening in his chest, causing his breaths to come out in stuttered huffs. Keep reading. Scarlett Johansson x Female Reader. Scarlett comes home and is most definitely getting sick. Set in Age of Ultron, it started pouring as soon as the Avengers won the battle. Scarlett x Reader. Reader is sick and Scarlett comes to her work to pick her up and take her home. Once Nat almost gets them caught, R realizes, and is worried. May was amazing. Neither could Ned, and no one else knew. But Tony did. Eventually an Avenger you can pick who finds out and helps him from AO3. I hope it was worth the wait! Leave comments if you like it. Tony wakes up to his own muffled scream. For a moment he lies there in the dark, trying to catch his breath, while his most recent nightmare replays in front of his inner eye in all its detailed beauty. He knows that he has gotten less sleep than good for him, but something in his stomach feels vaguely uncomfortable, enough to keep him awake. His brain is slower than his hands, which are searching for Pepper on the other side of the mattress before he recalls what happened the previous night. They had shouted at each other, louder and longer than in a while now. Tony gets up to check his phone. No misscalls, just a message from her - I reached. See you on Thursday. He gets back into bed, half-heartedly watching news on the holo screen at the ceiling. Half an hour later the discomfort in his stomach has turned into a gnawing ache, and by now he is sure that this is not just a hangover. The smell from the untouched coffee on the table is enough to slowly make him nauseos. It takes him a ridiculous amount of effort to force himself to stop gagging and breathe evenly. When he washes his face with shaky hands and checks his own reflection in the mirror, he looks pale, sweaty, and easily ten years older than usually. He spends the morning dozing on the couch in front of the TV, a screwdriver and one of the gauntlets in his hands, not finding the energy to do much more. He throws up twice more, and each time is more painful than the previous. Any attempt of keeping down painkillers or even ginger ale turns out to be fruitless.

Whump prompts: fever edition


I gotta get some medicine in you. You alright? Peter shakes his head, and Tony notices how glassy his eyes are. What the hell are you doing here -? The kid immediately looks up at him, tears in his eyes and spit dripping down his chin. God, he was garbage at this kind of thing. I need help. Tony sighs in relief yet again, slipping his phone into his back pocket as he goes up to check on Peter. Peter is in the bed, tucked under the covers, and looking absolutely miserable. He shakes his head no, still looking a little green around the gills. Peter groans and covers his face with his hands. Stephen rolls his eyes. Stephen nods, looking in his eyes. Tony smiles a bit. You want that - blue Gatorade? Tony clears his throat. Nice and easy. Just gotta feel gross for a bit. The silence is thick and heavy until Stephen gets back, helping Peter sit up and coaxing a bit of Gatorade into him. Peter closes his eyes again, and Stephen eases him back down to the mattress. He turns to Tony, keeping his voice low. He comes to the head of the bed, leans over, and kisses his forehead ever so gently. Why the heck do you want to lie on the floor so bad? A feverish whumpee found sobbing on the floor, tangled in sheets, unable to get away. Since so many of you asked so kindly, here we are my lovely starlings!

sickfic ideas

More question-based dialogue to include in your writing. Be creative and use these in any context you desire. Time keeps slipping away from him in strange lurches. He sleeps, and his sleep gets deeper. Anything could have happened while he was sleeping. Anything could have happened to him; anything could have happened to Lup. Merle is right next door, with all of the clerical knowledge that anyone in his crew needs. Everything was fine a few hours ago. Keep reading. Peter leans back in the large conference chair he flopped down into the second he and Tony got back to Stark Tower after a fight and slips his knees up to hug them to his chest. Peter knows why. He lifts one hand to massage his temple. The skin underneath his fingertips is hot, worryingly so, and has been steadily getting hotter as the day has progressed. He had gotten a call from Tony saying to suit up and get down to the Central Bank on 23rd as soon as possible, and before Peter could stress concerns about his fever, Tony had hung up. Peter watches Tony rake fingers through his short hair with a frustrated sigh, and he takes his chance in this brief moment of silence. Stark, do you have any ibuprofen? He waits a moment, watching with glassy eyes as Tony mutters under his breath before finally turning to him. Sighing, Peter lifts his head from his knee and rubs a trembling hand along the back of his neck. Peter obeys. Nodding, Peter focuses on a diamond-shaped blue crystal that serves as a part of the design on the carpet beneath his feet. He watches, brows pulled together, as Tony wordlessly stands. Peter gets to his feet, swaying slightly with a hand pressed to his forehead, but Tony grabs his elbow and keeps him upright, that of which Peter is incredibly grateful.

🌹Voltron comic dub - Klance [Cold] 🌹



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