I Know I Said I Was Taking A Break From Tumblr And I AM But  I… Couldn’t Stop Thinking About this

Sicktember Day 2

Homesick

Fandom: -

Characters: Florian and Celia

Illness: Common cold, Fever

Warning: -

A little bit of context for a better understanding (bc I just jumped straight into action lol): Florian was invited to a neighboring kingdom for diplomatic purposes, and in his escort he brought Celia with himself and now she's providing comfort for him while they're far away from home. The prince and Celia are pretty comfortable with each other at this point but still maintaining their obligatory distance.

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’I just… I want to go home. Everyone is so loud and irritating here and there are always so many problems with everything. And my head hasn’t stopped pounding since two days ago.’

Celia quietly sighed as Florian leaned back and rested his head on the top of the armchair. He was exhausted and this whole room was just uncomfortable and hot, he wished to be back in his own chamber and own bed. It was selfish of him, he knew that well and he felt bad about his thoughts but couldn’t help with the helplessness and homesickness that was clinging onto his chest. Celia’s cold hand on his forehead was what brought him back to reality. The maid was looking at him with a pitiful sadness and Florian’s stomach jumped into a knot at the look in her eyes. He never liked it if somebody was looking at him like this, it made him feel weak and useless like he wasn’t good enough for his title. And the emotional state he was in right now, clearly wasn’t helping his clouded mind.

‘You’re burning up.’

‘What?’

‘You’re running a fever, Your Highness. I believe you’re sick.’

‘No, that can’t be.’ Florian quickly shooed away Celia’s hand, but only realized how hot his head actually felt when the maid’s cool fingers weren’t pressing on his skin anymore. Maybe even his head started hurting a bit more. ‘I can’t get sick right now.’

He was trying to convince himself that it wasn’t right, he was just tired and maybe that has messed with his temperature, but the scratching feeling in his lungs that made him want to cough was clearly protesting against his idea.

‘I’m sorry Your Highness, your body must have gotten tired because of the traveling and caught a cold.’

Celia was still looking at him that way. She was pitying him. He didn’t need anyone’s pity, especially not a maid’s!

‘Stop looking at me like that!’

Florian’s voice was harsh and rough and Celia quickly turned her head away. She was familiar with higher ranking people yelling at her, but it was the first time Florian raised his voice at her and it caught her off guard. She let her feelings show too much and she must not let this accident happen again.

‘I’m sorry Your Highness, please forgive me.’

Her voice was weaker than she had intended and Celia was cursing herself for that. She needs to get herself together, this behavior wasn’t suited for the crown prince’s nursing maid.

‘No, no I’m sorry Celia…’ it only took a moment for Florian to realize how he just acted with her, who was only trying to help him, and immediately felt terrible. ‘I didn’t mean to yell at you like that, it was very rude of me, you didn’t do anything. You don’t have to ask for forgiveness. I’m just…so tired, I’m sorry…’

Tears were forming in the prince’s eyes and he quickly pulled a hand in front of his face but Celia gasped when she saw the tears running down Florian’s face.

‘Oh no, it’s alright, I’m not angry or anything! Please don’t cry Your Highness, everything’s fine.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why am I like this… You shouldn’t see me like this…’ the prince’s voice was trembling and Celia not minding the young man’s status, pulled him close. Florian hasn’t protested, just laid into her hug.

‘I’m the very person who should see you like this.’ Celia’s soothing words filled the air with some kind of comfort. ‘And you’re feverish, it’s normal to experience mood swings, I know you haven’t meant it.’

‘I don’t want to get sick…’

‘I know, but I’m here to help and you’ll feel better soon enough.’

‘But what will they say…?’

Those always-watching and unpredictable gazes felt like burning irons on his skin. Normally he’d know how to deal with them, but right now he was so tired and lost and buried under all those problems without a clear solution. He really just wanted to go back home and hide under his blankets where he could comfortably rest for a few days without everyone questioning him. But even if he set off right now, it’d take two weeks to get home and he had to admit, he was in no way in any shape, or form fit for a road so long. The only thing he had closest to home was Celia right now.

‘For the next two days there won’t be any meetings.’ answered Celia after a little thinking, while gently rubbing Florian’s back. The prince wasn’t sure when was it okay to let go, but he sure didn’t want to yet. ‘The noblemen are going for a hunt and you can kindly decline to go with them, saying that you’re honored, but hunting isn’t your favorite way of passing the time and you must manage some matters regarding a few diplomatic decisions that need your attention. And while they are out and you’re seemingly busy with work, we’ll nurse you back to health in no time.’

‘That sounds actually… quite manageable. But I’m sure they will comment on me missing out on the hunt.’

‘We can’t make anyone happy, but I’m sure they’ll understand you have work.’

‘Hm.’

‘So, how about it Your Highness? I can send someone out immediately if you want to.’

Florian was quiet for a little, trying to think through the plan and find some weak points in it, but his mind wasn’t working properly anymore, too fogged to do any of its work.

‘Yes, alright… This one will do it… And nobody will know how I…?’

‘Nobody. I promise.’

‘Thank you, Celia…’

‘Of course.’ Celia smiled at him as she gently pulled away from him and Florian let her go with a shaking breath but found her fingers on his face again before having a chance to step away. She was carefully placing her palm on the prince’s cheeks, tapping the hot skin with her fingertips and discreetly whipping away some of his dried up tears. Florian closed his eyes and haven’t even flinched when Celia’s soft lips made contact with his forehead and rested there for a few seconds to feel his temperature. Even her breath felt nice and cool and for a fragment of a second, Florian was no crown prince, just a sick boy in a loving hold.

‘Please get comfortable and go to bed, Your Highness. I’ll bring some water and tea for you and make someone inform the noblemen. You’ll have to sweat this one out.’

Florian just nodded and threw his clothes on the ground as Celia quickly left and climbed to bed with aching muscles. He wasn’t even sure how he had the energy for this day when the only thing he was able to do now is to hide under the heavy blankets shivering and waiting for his maid to finally return back to him.

"you never drink tea" for the sickfic prompts? :D

Takes place sometime after ep 12 in Russia

1200~ words

～～～

From across the rink, Yuuri scrutinizes the item held in Victor’s hands. The logo of Victor’s favourite cafe is displayed on the front of it, the familiar design revealing it is one of the special filtered tea mugs Victor loves to gush about. While the sight of him clutching a travel mug at morning practice is not an unusual one, seeing it now has Yuuri slowing to a stop on the ice as he gets a better look at his coach.

It’s not that Victor doesn’t like tea. It’s far from an odd occurrence for Victor to bring a thermos with him to stay energized through practice and warm against the chill of the cold winter weather.

Only now there is no chill, as it’s the middle of spring.

“Tired already, Yuuri?” Victor calls, his wide smile conveying the quip about Yuuri’s stamina that he doesn’t voice.

Yuuri narrows his eyes at Victor, paying his comment no mind. “You never drink tea,” he says accusingly.

For a moment, Victor looks like he’s taken off guardーalmost as if he were caught in the actーbut he quickly composes himself. “I do sometimes,” Victor replies simply, taking a sip rather nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. “When it’s freezing outsideーwhich it’s not right now. Or when you need the caffeine, or when your throat is really bothering you because you’re sick.”

That causes Victor to flinch, and Yuuri knows he’s right.

“It’s nothing,” Victor dismisses with a wave of his hand and a smile practiced to perfection. “I’m just a bit tired. I didn’t sleep too well last night is all.”

Yuuri is well aware of the fact. Victor had been doing nothing but tossing and turning. Yuuri is surprised to hear he got any kind of rest at all.

It’s obvious to Yuuri that Victor is sick. Or at the very least coming down with something. While it’s likely not obvious to anyone else, the signs are all there. It’s not even just the mug of tea, it’s the fact that Victor tried to hide it from Yuuri. He had prepared it and packed it in secrecy, much like he had hid his illness the first time he had been sick in their relationship. Yuuri would have thought that by now that Victor wouldn’t try to do these things on his own.

Yuuri is tempted to advise they cut their practice short, that they go home and Victor rests, but he knows the idea will be shot down the moment he suggests it. Plus, as much as Yuuri hates to admit it, Victor’s condition isn’t bad enough to warrant sentencing him to bedrest. At least not yet.

So instead he settles for letting Victor have his way for a while, and pretends he doesn’t notice when Victor turns away to cough into the crook of his elbow.

Yuuri runs through his routine again and again, until the movements become more natural than breathing. Victor gives his compliments and critiques, each one sounding more tired and strained than the last. Yuuri still doesn’t voice his concern, knowing even now it will fall on deaf ears.

He loses himself in his skating, until the ice feels like it’s moving beneath his feet, as if it were the one dancing for him, rather than the other way around. The sharp slice of his blades echoes in his ears, the crisp and cool rink air fills his lungs with each heavy breath. He pushes himself harder, thoroughly enjoying every minute of it, until thoughts about Victor’s steadily deteriorating condition are all but forgotten.

He comes to a finish in the centre of the ice, breathing hard, feeling confident about a performance well done. He had landed every single jump, even the quad flip, though the landing was a bit shaky which he doubts Victor will let slide. His spins were tight, his step sequence was remarkable as always. Though Victor insists there is always room for improvement, and Yuuri is ready to hear where he should start.

But surprisingly there is no such input from Victor. Only silence. Puzzled, Yuuri turns and looks for his coach and finds him plucking a number of tissues from the plush poodle and blowing his nose into them.

A pang of annoyance surges through Yuuri. Victor just missed a near-perfect run through of his routine. (Even perfect run throughs are near-perfect to Victor.) But then, as Victor emerges from behind the cover of the kleenex, Yuuri feels all of his annoyance melt away into pity.

Even from a distance, Victor’s nose is noticeably red. His eyes (which have yet to notice Yuuri staring) lack the usual sparkle, and there are dark smudges underneath them. Victor sniffles, stuffing the used tissue into the pocket of his jacket, then wraps it more tightly around himself as he visibly shivers. His overall form broadcasts his exhaustion, the tired sigh he releases further proving that point.

“Victor?” Yuuri calls, causing Victor to snap his head up.

His cheeks are flushed, which could easily be from embarrassment at the realization he had missed Yuuri’s routine. Though judging by everything else Yuuri has witnessed, he’s willing to bet Victor is running a fever.

Victor’s posture changes in an instant. He straightens up and takes his hands out of his pockets, forcing a smile that Yuuri sees right through.

“Ah, sorry Yuuri. I got a bit distracted for a minute there,” Victor says with a lighthearted laugh, as if that will distract Yuuri from how hoarse his voice sounds. “I’m sure your routine was lovely! Though I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you do it again. I’m confident you have the stamina.”

Yuuri has had enough. He makes his way over to the boards where Victor is. “Maybe I do, but you don’t.”

Victor blinks, still acting innocent. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re obviously sick,” Yuuri points out.

“It's… just a little cold,” Victor relinquishes, his voice quiet and sheepish. “I can still coach you. I’m fine,” Victor insists, or at least he tries to; his breath catches and he sharply turns away to sneeze before he can finish his sentence.

As Victor groans and reaches for a tissue to blow his nose yet again, Yuuri picks up the mug of tea and hands it to him. Victor accepts without a word, takes a sip, then heaves a sigh as he sets the drink down.

Yuuri takes Victor’s hand in his and runs his finger over where the ring is. It’s covered by his glove, and that is another dead giveaway to Yuuri that Victor is well and truly sick: he never passes up an opportunity to flash their engagement rings. He must really be chilled.

“Come on. Let’s get you home,” Yuuri says.

He expects Victor to argue, to insist he’s okay to keep coaching, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. But Victor must either be feeling that bad, or perhaps he can’t find it in himself to resist Yuuri’s sweet charms, because he just smiles, adoration written all over his features, and lets Yuuri lead him by the hand to the benches.

～～～

Prompts can be found here!

[image has alt text]

group hug

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Happy Reala day!

Hoooooo, boy! I finished this comic in the winter of 2021 and had to wait so long to post it. But the original idea goes back to 2015 when I was new to the fandom So this little comic has been cooking for quite a while…

–

So this is my headcanon of how Claris’ and Reala’s friendship started. But most importantly, where Reala has been all this time between his defeat in NiD and April fool’s event in Christmas NiGHTS

zasp time babey

what’s that buzzing sound?

anyways I’m still yoi trash so here’s another fic. This one takes place entirely over text message and features a sick Yuuri who is in Japan while Victor is in Russia (from Victor’s pov)

900~ words

～～～

Received 8:32pm hypothetically speaking, what’s the best way to get over a cold?

Sent 8:34pm✓ rest, soup and tea, and snuggles!

Sent 8:34pm✓ why do you ask?

Sent 8:35pm✓ also isn’t it super late where you are right now?

Sent 8:36pm✓ !!

Sent 8:36pm✓ wait

Sent 8:36pm✓ are you sick??

Received 8:37pm …

Received 8:37pm um… maybe a little?

Keep reading

You know what’s underrated? A lack of appetite, even if the sick character only has a cold