#novemetober 22

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

@monthofsick

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴀʟᴛ 1: Feverish

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,2k~

Hihi! This could be a feverish prompt, or just for u to imagine. A is miserably sick and feverish in bed (could be shirtless, platonically), and hugging B is the only thing that makes A's body feel better. Ofc this is uncomfortable for B.

requested @justtopostmyfic-blog read the whole request here!

ᴀ/ɴ hey, sorry this took me a little longer. i didn't know when to post it, and well... i was very busy. but i loved this prompt so much, and honestly i forgot how nice it feels to write A and B as characters. it's just no context, but i know all the context i meant to put in this, so it's fun to imagine. i wrote this on a single cup of coffee, so yeah... 🔥

TW EMETO

         B was drifting in and out of sleep as they stayed in bed, their neck stiff from laying flat on their back, the sight of their bedroom ceiling coming into focus.

         They weren't sure what had woken them up, but the feeling of A's face pressed against their chest, their arms firmly wrapped around their waist as if they were a giant teddy bear, was an instant reminder. A's hot breath brushed over B's skin, and they couldn't help but compare the feeling to a blow dryer being turned on and off constantly. 

         A was burning up. No, that was underestimating it. A could've been described as burning up last night, when B stayed until the early hours of the morning, changing cold presses and bed sheets. Now, B was certain A was melting over their abdomen, a puddle gathered under A's cheek, sweat rolling off their nose and dripping on B's chest.

         At least, they had finally managed to sleep. Even if it took lining the mattress with towels and leaving a sick bucket by the foot of the bed for easy access, A finally trusted that they could sleep, or try to.

         The unnatural heat practically poured out of A's pinkish skin rendering both of their shirts soaked in no time, so they just decided to go without them. Neither had a problem with it, A was too feverish to care about anything, and for all B knew, it would make the laundry inevitably easier.

         A tightened their grip around B's waist, the way they were shivering becoming more noticeable as B virtually felt A's muscles tense and tremble painfully. They shuffled slightly, a faint whimper dying in their throat as they buried their head into B's chest, gripping their side.

          It pained them to see it, but that was the most peaceful rest A had gotten all week. They were sure, between wasting away on the cold bathroom tile, and sharing their fever with B as they slept, A had picked the latter because they didn't want to be left alone. 

         B kept their eyes on their sick friend for a moment longer, watching as they breathed in and out, the intervals between each drag becoming shorter. Slowly, without moving too briskly, B reached out and pulled a towel out of the backrest. Gently they patted A's forehead, holding their hand almost weightless so as not to disturb their sleep.

         As they pulled back, A let out another struggling moan, but their voice barely came through, almost as if they were protesting the towel being gone. B couldn't blame them, from what they could feel, A was being cooked alive from the inside.

         ”Shh… it's okay”, B mouthed, gently running their fingers through A's matted hair.

         As much as they wished this would've made A magically better, it didn't, their whimpers only seemed to grow needier, pained. They clung to B as if they were a lifesaver, inevitably pressing their belly to B's side as they hugged them, no signs of wanting to let go even if it earned deeper groans out of them. B could almost feel A's stomach tying itself into a knot, constantly tossing around the little B had managed to keep down from the night before.

         It took a lot of convincing for A to even try the soup B had made, but once they had a taste, there wasn't any more resistance. Mercifully enough, A wasn't quick to nausea, they were able to keep most things down when they were sick.

         What broke them, of course, was high fevers just like these. It made them into a walking furnace, or more accurately into a volcano. B had watched them disgorge a whole pressure cooker's worth of bright orange carrot soup onto the toilet, barely awake throughout the process. It was mercy, however, B held them close as they vomited, shivering so violently they were afraid A could break into a seizure.

         Now, with barely more than a cup of tea and a salad sandwich on top of a few gulps of water churning inside their stomach, A was whimpering in their sleep, constantly mouthing something not even they could hear.

         B was doing all they could to ease them into a peaceful rest, but A was struggling against the sudden tight feeling gripping their innards. A curled into B's chest as an unbearable cramp wrecked their small frame, ripping out pained sobs. 

       B tried to move them as gently as possible, A had to wake up, but they wouldn't budge. Their nails dug into B's side, and their chest heaved against them, trying to suppress the swirling nausea leaving them in complete confusion.

         One of A's dazed sobs morphed into a harsh audible gag in the back of their throat, prompting them to unconsciously clench their stomach, trying to prevent what was about to happen. It might've only made things worse because when their chest inevitably heaved, – their shoulders jumping, a wet belch traveling fast up their esophagus –, B couldn't react in time.

         A's mouth flooded within a second, the strength of their abdominal muscles completely dispersed as their stomach lunged, sending its contents gurgling up their throat. A parted their lips weakly, their eyes still shut, but to no avail as thick vomit burst out of their nostrils while more of that bright orangish soup-like slurry spread over B's chest in a violent surge. It even sprayed past them, landing on the edge of the bed as heavy lumps slithered to the floor.

         For a moment B was frozen in place, their body as stiff as a corpse as the situation came to them in layers. A's disgustingly hot vomit was seeping into their bare abdomen, a sludgy mixture heavily detailed with undigested food chunks, leaving slimy trails as they went down the side of their body, pooling under them. They wouldn't think it would burn, but it was much hotter than how A felt, steaming like molten lava, burning a hole through B and the bed.

         They couldn't move. Disgust sent paralyzing shudders up and down their arms, locking them in place. B wasn't squeamish, not usually, they were vomited on them before, by a multitude of friends, but it had never been this… graphic. It was A's chest incessantly heaving that snapped them back. They were struggling to breathe, choked gurgles trying to make it through their throat.  

         “Wake up A!” they start calling, frantically, shaking their shoulders like they were trying to resuscitate them.

         B's efforts proved nearly worthless as A continued heaving, eyes closed shut, but their grip around them loosened. They didn't waste any time, and pried their unconscious friend away from them, rolling them onto their back, then on their side. B scrambled to catch A before they could fall off the bed, the still-warm vomit fell to their lap with a wet splotch as they sat up. In the middle of the fray, B had one hand under A's head, holding it tilted, the other firmly around their wrist, keeping them from planting their face on the floor.

         A went completely stiff under B, tensing every muscle of their body, then let out another wave of regurgitated food onto the bed sheets. It pooled under their cheek, completely missing the towels as it came out with less force than the first one, infiltrating under them.

         B kept calling, growing more and more desperate by the second. A sounded like they were drowning, chunky vomit still pouring out their mouth in weak surges, choked-out whimpers fighting to be heard. 

         B was at their wit's end when they grabbed the still heaving A by the shoulder, delivering heavy thumps to their back, like they weren't trying to resuscitate a baby, but turn it into minced meat. There was a weak whimper before A snapped awake, coughing violently as they flail their arms, struggling to sit up. 

         B helped their friend flip onto their side and sit up, uselessly cupping both hands under their mouth as they promptly emptied their stomach onto their own lap. It overflew almost instantly, the chunky heavy slurry pouring down their chin and pooling between their legs, ruining yet another piece of clothing.

         A was disoriented, their vision spun and they couldn't focus on anything besides the unrelenting stream of stomach contents pouring out of them, their abdominal muscles hurting mercilessly as they writhed, forcing more and more up. 

         B wasn't sure about what they were going to do as they reached out, gently landing a hand on A's slumped. back. They winced, startled by the sudden cold touch on their bare skin, and B pulled back, feeling the exact opposite.

         A whimpered as the ongoing stream thinned out, leaving them gagging graphically as the nausea refused to let up. They mumbled something unintelligible, their pupils peeking from the corners of their eyes, behind a curtain of matted hair dripping with sweat. Dense ropes of slimy vomit hung from their lips, their chin still coated with lumps that dragged down to their neck. They looked absolutely miserable, still dazed from the raging fever, but aware enough to start sobbing again, seeing the huge mess they had made.

         “No, no, no… it's okay”, B approached them carefully this time, using just their arms to hold A as their entire torso glistened with vomit.

         A whimpered miserably, shaking still, their hands completely covered in what looked like clumps of bread, bits of lettuce, and tomatoes, all tinged a sickly orange of last night's soup. They were so tempted to just flick them off but knew that once they started moving, it would be impossible to make them stop. B noticed and immediately brought out a towel, wrapping it around A's hands while shushing them.

         “It's okay, it's okay. No panicking. It's just a bit of vomit”, they reassured, wiping their hands while knowing very well it wasn't just a bit.

         A responded with a short burp and more wailing, their head dropping forward as nausea and fever still lingered, making them feel as if they were being constantly spun around. The very feeling of spinning on a chair then suddenly stopping, their shoulders locked as they anticipated the feeling, but it never came, instead, it kept swirling inside their belly. 

         “B…”, they murmured, the first whole word they were able to utter and it was their friend's name, in such a pitiful voice B bit their lip, trying to not cry too. "Gon…na..– mmmguh… again…"

         It was all they could muster before a harsh gag brought the taste of rot and acid to their tongue.

         “There's a bucket on the floor”, B blurted out and sat on their knees as they guided A to lean over the side of the bed. It was completely useless to try and use it now, but none of the two were thinking right.

         ”Gonna… fall…”, A mumbled, nausea slurring their words together. The fear of heights dawned on them as the gray carpet on the floor inched closer. They could faint just like that, but B held them firmly, one hand around their waist, still trying not to let themselves touch. When they spoke again, there was a clear alarm in their voice. “B, I'm gonna fall!”

         “You're not going to fall. I'm holding you, see? I've got you”, B promised, pulling them just slightly closer for confirmation. A trickle of saliva escaped A's lips, their half-lidded eyes lazily moving around. “Try to aim for the bucket, okay?”

         A nodded weakly, and leaned in forward with the help of B, parting their lips as they anticipated the uncomfortable heave of their stomach. They did their best to aim, but at that angle, it was nearly impossible not to miss.

         They clenched their eyes shut as they burped up a waterfall of now watered-down soup, remnants of the sickly sweet carrot porridge B had cooked for them still clinging to their palate.

         They gagged as the ongoing stream brought up more of the sandwich A had forced down, now in thick lumps incorporated into the mixture. They had to resist the urge to chew as vomit clogged their throat. Most of it had fallen by the side of the bucket rather than in it, but a small portion hit the bottom with a sickening splatter.

         “Shh… there you go”, B encouraged, rubbing up and down their back. “It's okay, just get it all out.”

         A mustered a final voluminous wave of thick orangish puke, missing the bucket by a lot as their eyes remained closed, but at least it was out of their system, and on their carpeted floor. They kept gagging over the mess, sure they were finally empty, their belly visibly deflated like it had been crushed.

         “You got… most of it. It's something, hah”, B attempted a little humor, but A just let out a miserable, letting themselves fall into B's chest. “D-Don't! Ah… sorry, I'm a little dirty.”

         “It's my fault anyway…”, A cried out, unphased by the sensation of B's skin sticking to them.

         “Shh…”, B rubbed their arm up and down, trying to support their shivering friend the best they could. “Take your time… We'll move to the shower whenever you're ready.”

         “Y-Yeah… Good idea”, A thanked weakly, closing their arms, and just trying to focus on B's cool breathing above them. It was hard not to fall asleep like that. 

#novemetober 22 #novemetober 2022 #nov(emeto)ber 2022 #emeto #vomiting #tw vomit #sickfic prompts #tw emeto #tw vomiting #fever whump #fever dream #high fever #A as character name #B as character name #A and B #nameless characters #nameless whump #nameless sickfic #nb sickie #nb character #read as whatever you want #can be read as platonic or romantic #lotsa emeto here #dana//emeto fic #my writing

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

Embarrassingly I never kept up with updating my list for Novemetober, so I decided to just straight up post a new one, instead of going back, editing and reblogging an old one. The fics in green are completed, the ones in orange are in progress!

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Cyno & Tighnari)

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Lyney & Lumine)

02 + 16. Can't stop puking & Waking up Puking (Sick Heizou)

04. Messy (Sick Tighnari)

07. Too Feverish to Think (Sick Aether)

09. Persistant Illness (Sick Tighnari)

10. Ill with an Audience (Sick Lyney)

11. Totally drained/exhausted (Sick Tighnari)

13. Professionalism Failure (Sick Kazuha/Gorou)

14. Can't Keep Anything Down (Sick Cyno)

19. Sick in More Ways than One (Sick Aether)

20. Late Caretaker (Sick Cyno)

22. Out of Character/Visibly Ill (Sick Cyno)

24. Panic (Sick Cyno)

27. Head pain/injury/ache (Sick Heizou)

Alt 01. Motion Sickness (Sick Lyney)

#earthquake author's note #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto

[caspersickfanfics]

Novemetober: Rescheduled

I will be taking requests for the following Novemetober prompts for February until they are filled! I recommend sending asks ASAP to ensure I have time to write them, and to make sure I don't start writing something else for that day first.

Daily Prompts

1. Sharing a receptacle [COMPLETE | Sick Cyno & Tighnari]

2. Can’t stop puking [COMPLETE | Sick Alhaitham]

3. Bad news = bad stomach [OPEN]

4. Messy [IN PROGRESS | Sick Kaveh]

5. Undesirable caretaker [TENTATIVELY | Sick Alhaitham]

6. Post-adrenaline puking [COMPLETE | Sick Tighnari]

7. Too feverish to think [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cyno]

8. Choose: Loud or silent [COMPLETE | Sick Bachira]

9. Persistent sickness [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cheng Xiaoshi]

10. Ill with an audience [OPEN]

11. Totally drained/exhausted [COMPLETE | Sick Cyno]

12. Group sickfic [OPEN]

13. Professionalism failure [COMPLETE | Sick Cyno]

14. Can’t keep anything down [COMPLETE | Sick Cyno]

15. Free day [IN PROGRESS | Sick Tighnari]

16. Waking up puking [IN PROGRESS | Sick Lu Guang]

17. Sick for the first time [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cyno]

18. Unfamiliar surroundings [IN PROGRESS | Sick Tighnari]

19. Sick in more ways than one [OPEN]

20. Late caretaker [COMPLETE | Sick Cyno]

21. Sleepy sickie [OPEN]

22. Out of character / Visibly Ill [TENTATIVELY | Sick Alhaitham]

23. Subtle support [OPEN]

24. Panic [COMPLETE | Sick Tighnari]

25. Cranky sickie [OPEN]

26. Nonverbal illness indicators [OPEN]

27. Head pain/injury/ache [IN PROGRESS | Sick Tighnari]

28. Chaotic body temperature [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cyno]

29. Fake “Faking it” [IN PROGRESS | Sick Ito]

Alternative Prompts

1. Motion sick [SKIP]

2. Sick during transit [OPEN]

3. Unconventional receptacle [OPEN]

4. Torture (literal or figurative) [IN PROGRESS]

5. Shaky/shivery [OPEN]

#emeto fiction #genshin emeto #shiguang daili ren emeto #blue lock emeto #novemetober #nov(emeto)ber #tw vomit #vomit tw #tw emeto #emeto tw

[monthofsick]

Day 22: Enemy/Rival as Caretaker

Fandom: MCU

Warnings: vomiting, field medicine, canon typical violence, injury, minor character death

The mission objective is down. The execution was shoddy, the engineer’s protective agent too aware, too fast, and he had to take the shot through the slender body shielding his target. Confirmation of kill is going to require investigation. The body of the escort is collapsed on top of him and there’s no way to be certain without getting closer. Much closer.

He climbs over the edge of the embankment, edging closer with weapon still trained on the escort and his objective. No one’s moving.

Closer still, and he rolls the body off the engineer. A slim face, a familiar curve to the jaw, delicate shoulders lax in unconsciousness. His body reacts before his mind can, bile erupting from his lips with barely a second to spin away from the girl on the ground.

Natalia.

A lifetime ago, training a child assassin from the Red Room, teaching her to stalk, to wait, to kill, to survive.

His body convulses again, pale fluid rising and arcing away from wide stretched lips. The ground splattered with the liquid nutrition that provides all he needs and nothing he wants.

His Natalia. She looks as she did then, still so young. He suspected then, when her endurance approached his and her abilities surpassed all those around her, that she might have been enhanced. And now, crimson blooming from her abdomen, he has done the thing he feared most for her.

A soft sound, a gasp, and her chest rises, falls, alive.

There isn’t a choice to be made. He pulls combat gauze from the tac vest, pressing it to the wound, into the tract far enough to stop the bleeding enough for survival. Another wad of QuikClot over the exit on her back, sealing both with clear occlusive dressings. There’s not time for more. He has to move. He withdraws a syrette from another pocket, injects a dose of morphine and watches as her shaking eases.

The engineer is dead, and his little spider is as safe as he can make her. He collects proof of kill and begins the trek to his extract point. He’s nearly there when it occurs to him that restocking the gear from his tac vest is going to demand explanation.

It’s a simple thing, to take the blade he carries and slip it into his side. Just an inch, just enough to leave a small wound that will match up with his healing times if he were to have been injured on the actual mission and not during the departure. He thinks to grab a gauze pack and occlusive dressing, slapping it over the little puncture. It stings, but it will be gone in a few hours.

Nausea threatens again, but he swallows it down. The extract team will be waiting for him, and he must be nothing more than their Winter Soldier. He fills his lungs with hot, dry air and breathes out the memories of a woman he cannot allow anyone to remember he knows. Older memories, deeper ones, swirl further down, of blonde hair and thin limbs, and he closes the vault in the back of his mind, tightening the lockdown he keeps those fragments of self stored under.

He approaches extract, leaps into the waiting aircraft. His handler awaits.

“Soldier. Mission report.”

“Mission complete. Nothing further to report.”

#tw vomit #tw field medicine #tw violence #tw death #tw character death #mohini-musing #submission #nov. 22 2018 #day22 #enemy/rival as caretaker #novemetober #novemetober 2018

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022

@monthofsick

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴅᴀʏ 21: The strongest person still has sick days sometimes

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,7k~

21 for Jean? Even the strongest person get there’s sick day

ᴀ/ɴ ho boy. writing lisa really reminds me i'm into girls too 😳

TW EMETO

Lisa slowly lifted her eyes from the book she had been reading when hurried footsteps came in through the door, the first sound to break the silence of the library in hours. Instead of fixing her lazily slumped posture, putting on her greeter's smile, or even closing the book, Lisa reached for the perfect warm tea on the edge of her desk, finally acknowledging the newcomer.

“Good afternoon, Jean”, she welcomed warmly, tipping the cup in her direction before savoring a sip. Jean responded a second too late for her tastes, and Lisa eyed her curiously, searching for the thing she knew was off. “What brings you here?”

“I'm looking for a book”, the acting grandmaster answered, handing a small slit of paper, with something written in it. Her voice had a slight hoarse quality to it, right at the end, barely noticeable. “I think it is for an investigation, I'm not sure. Kaeya was the one to ask, and he didn't give much detail.”

“Well, if it's important I'm sure he will come for it eventually”, Lisa pointed out, taking another long sip of her drink. Jean frowned at her answer, and she gave one of her sweet yet cynical smirks in response, unable to shrug off the feeling there was something more to her reaction. “I'm joking of course. If it's you asking, how could I say no? Are you in a hurry?”

“Why do you ask?”, the acting grandmaster fidget for a brief moment, her eyes going to the piece of paper. “You won't be able to find it by name alone?”

“Well…”, the librarian hummed, gently placing her tea down and leaning forward, resting both elbows on her desk. Jean was looking at her up, and from that, it was easy to see the grayish circles under her cloudy blue eyes. “It will certainly be faster if you would help me.”

Lisa's suggestion was nothing out of the ordinary. Truthfully, she would avoid any extra work outside of her pay grade, but delegating that to an already overworked Jean was something even she thought to be too low. Today, she looked even more tired than usual, if not paler, sickly. Since making her sit down and rest wasn't an option, she had to keep an eye on her at least.

The librarian kept close to Jean during the short walk, sneaking glances in her direction after every couple of steps down the stairs. She knew exactly where to look for that book, and if she bothered to remember, she could tell the particular spot it was in, but at the moment her mind was on where the nearest chair was in case Jean needed it.

And soon she would because it only took a couple of steps for Jean's knees to subtly give out, causing her to stumble. Lisa might've told on herself with how quickly she acted, because almost instantly she held her in place, her hand resting firmly on her shoulder.

“Careful. These floors can be very slippery”, she advised, and her hands lingered around Jean for a moment more. Unmistakably, her skin felt far warmer than any healthy person would, even through her clothes and Lisa's gloves.

“I-I know. I'm sorry, I'll be more careful”, the Grandmaster stammered, bringing a palm to her forehead, a pinkish blush coloring her face. Everything in her expression spelled a plea for help, but her unfocused eyes nearly screamed. “Let's go…”

“Are you sure?”, the librarian asked, giving her a chance to finally admit it. “You don't seem well.”

“That's not… no, I feel perfectly fine”, Jean lied, briefly closing her eyes when the whole room seemed to spin. When she opened them again she found Lisa staring at her, a concerned frown bringing out the wrinkles of her skin. She knew to worry now, Lisa rarely looked at her like that. “Do I… really?”

“Honey, you're pale”, the purple witch informed sweetly, in the same tone as someone who's giving terrible news. Jean didn't show surprise at the notice, on the contrary, she just shook her head slightly, stopping in the middle of the act to swallow. “Not only that. I think you might be running a fever as well. Can you feel your temperature?”

The acting grandmaster slowly nodded, blinking slowly as Lisa pulled off one of her gloves with her teeth, and her hand replaced her own. Her touch was tender and comfortably warm, but not the same as the uncomfortable heat rolling off her skin. She couldn't help but lean slightly into her touch, unable to control herself when that show of kindness had been the first in several days of crushing responsibilities.

“You feel a little warm”, Lisa said softly, nearly whispering in that empty library. She lingered a bit, cupping her reddish cheek in her hand, almost as if she could take her fever away like that. “What are you feeling?”

Jean hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to the ground before her hand shakingly came to rest on her stomach. Admitting defeat was difficult for her, or rather, asking for help, but seeing the concerned look Lisa gave her, almost broke her.

“Just a little nauseous”, she rasped. That constant burn in her throat threatened to flood her tongue, and she had to swallow again.

“How long have you been feeling like this, love?”

“Since this morning, I think…”, she responded honestly at first, but thinking back, she could point out the many moments she felt off throughout the week. A shudder here and there, a sneeze that caught her off guard, an ache in the pit of her stomach. Everything combined tenfold that morning, but staying home was simply not an option. “Don't you have anything I could…?”

“I'm not going to test any potions on you, Jean. But I have just the thing to make you feel better”, the witch offered, and Jean looked hopeful for a moment, but it faded from her eyes when Lisa simply pulled a seat for her. “Rest. Now sit down.”

“N-No… I still have a lot to do”, Jean protested, her voice regaining that same raspiness after she stopped to swallow mid-sentence. “Lisa, I can't –”

“I'm not asking, dear”, she insisted, leading the woman to the chair. “Sit down, before you faint.”

“Lisa…”, she tried again, her voice nearly gone when her stomach tensed up, sending a nauseating shiver creeping across her. ”I have somewhere to be in –”

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait”, the librarian informed with a cynical smile, but Jean shook her head, about to retort when Lisa continued. “Don't even try. You're not going anywhere until you are feeling better.”

“I-I am!”, Jean raised all of the voice she could spare, but it was barely enough to be heard.

“Lying, still?”, the witch challenged, and this time it was her turn to look at her from up. If Jean had any color to lose, she would've, but at that moment, her face had gained a gray tinge. “Honey, just tell me what's wrong”

The acting grandmaster averted her eyes, clutching at her belly when it felt like her heart had plunged there.

“C-Can you grab a trash can?”, she said finally, still avoiding her gaze, but nausea slurred her words together.

Lisa sighed, but obliged, already satisfied that desperation prevailed over her stubbornness. She briefly returned with an empty bin and placed it on Jean's lap, watching as the woman took it and leaned over the rim.

“You're never going to admit it, huh?” Lisa commented with a half-hearted chuckle but regretted it when she heard the shuddering breath she exhaled. Gently, she rested a hand on her back, and slowly rubbed soothing circles between her shoulders. “I know how much you hate it. But denying yourself a rest will only make things worse.”

“You know I can't… afford to lose any time here. I need to – buur”, Jean suddenly cut herself off and closed her mouth. Her eyes widened as her cheeks grew, her skin suddenly taking an almost green color.

“Just let it out, don't try to hold it”, Lisa advised, gathering all of the loose strands that didn't make it into Jean's high ponytail, and holding them away from her mouth.

The grandmaster let out a gurgly groan before she parted her lips over the bin, allowing a gush of a brownish liquid to fall off her mouth. She spat out with disgust, shaking her head almost as if she could just deny it ever happened, even though she was staring at a mouthful of hot acidic coffee she had just produced.

“There you go… just try to get everything up”, Lisa whispered, her hand going to the base of her sternum to the nape of her neck in slow succession.

Jean clenched her eyes shut when a wet burp forced another wave of liquidy vomit out of her. It splashed sickeningly on the bottom of the bin, more regurgitated coffee and bile forming a disgusting mix. She tried to ignore it, but the smell was potent, almost burning her nostrils, and on par with its taste. Jean failed to hold herself from gagging, her stomach clenching as it struggled to make her puke again.

“guh— eurrggh!”, she retched weakly, her throat clenching until finally, she was able to burp out a stream of foul-tasting vomit.

“There, there…”, Lisa hummed, patting her back gently.

It felt endless as it gushed out of her mouth, her stomach writhing as it kept spewing, detailed lumps of food traveling up her throat. Jean broke into a painful cough as it finally tapered off into a trickle of bile, severing the lines of saliva that connected her mouth to the chunky mess below. She slowly opened her eyes, thinking it was finally safe to do so.

The sight was vile. Lumps of soaked bread and mushy vegetables floated around cups of regurgitated coffee, now tinged with yellow stomach acid. Jean gagged again, the smell hitting her full force, and coughed out another wave of vomit, this one much weaker than the last.

“Take it easy… don't hurt yourself”, Lisa said softly as Jean gurgled up a thin streak of bile, and spat profusely onto the bin. She was panting weakly, slimy drool still clinging to her lips. “Did you get everything out?”

Jean nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a moment when the floor seemed to tilt. Her head was pounding now thanks to the violent spell. Her mouth tasted horrid.

“I… think I can take a small break now”, she said finally, chuckling when Lisa did the same.

“You've earned it.”

#novemetober 22 #novemetober 2022 #nov(emeto)ber 2022 #je/an gen/shin imp/act #li/sa gen/shin imp/act #vomiting #tw vomit #gen/shin imp/act #genshin emeto #sickfic prompts #tw emeto #fever #mentioned kae/ya #dana//emeto fic #my writing

[danafeelingsick]

ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs | ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ | Aᴏ3

ᴅᴀʏ 2: Hiding it (or at least trying to) with Kamisato Ayaka

ᴅᴀʏ 3: Out of it with Collei and Tighnari

ᴅᴀʏ 5: Away from home with Kazuha and Y/N

ᴅᴀʏ 9: The first ---- has seen ---- sick with Venti and Diluc

ᴅᴀʏ 12: Sick on an empty stomach with Kazuha and Beidou

ᴅᴀʏ 13: Shaky or shivery with Hu Tao and Zhongli

ᴅᴀʏ 17: Totally drained/exhasted with Childe

ᴅᴀʏ 18: Arguments don't help a fever with Kaeya and Jean

ᴅᴀʏ 19: Sick in the middle of the night with Childe and Scaramouche

ᴅᴀʏ 20: Panic attack/anxiety with Diluc and Kaeya

ᴅᴀʏ 21: The strongest person still has sick days sometimes with Jean and Lisa

ᴅᴀʏ 22: Stranded and sick with Tighnari and Cyno

ᴅᴀʏ 26: Multiple sickies with Arataki Itto, Shikanoin Heizou, Kuki Shinobu and Kujou Sara

ᴀʟᴛ 1: Feverish with A&B

#novemetober 22 #nov(emeto)ber 2022 #novemetober 2022 #emeto #tw emeto #emetofic #gen/shin imp/act

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

I'm tired of scrolling all the way back to adjust the original list, so! Here is an updated list of all the Novemetober prompts I will be filling. The ones I already finished writing will be in blue, while the ones I already posted will be in green! I also put the ones that I started working on but haven't finished in orange.

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Cyno & Tighnari)

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Lyney & Lumine)

02 + 16. Can't stop puking & Waking up Puking (Sick Heizou)

04. Messy (Sick Tighnari)

07. Too Feverish to Think (Sick Aether)

09. Persistant Illness (Sick Tighnari)

10. Ill with an Audience (Sick Lyney)

11. Totally drained/exhausted (Sick Tighnari)

13. Professionalism Failure (Sick Kazuha/Gorou)

14. Can't Keep Anything Down (Sick Cyno)

19. Sick in More Ways than One (Sick Aether)

20. Late Caretaker (Sick Cyno)

22. Out of Character/Visibly Ill (Sick Cyno)

24. Panic (Sick Cyno)

27. Head pain/injury/ache (Sick Heizou)

Alt 01. Motion Sickness (Sick Lyney)

(yes I do in fact only have one pre-written fic left as of right now. I will be updating this list throughout the challenge!)

#earthquake author's note #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

Opening Requests for Novemetober Rescheduled!

I am opening requests for the Novemetober Rescheduled challenge, which will be taking place in February 2024. You can find the prompts here!

As per usual I'm only taking requests for Genshin impact as of right now, and I only write for the following characters and pairings:

(Typically I will consider requests for other characters/pairings, but for Novemetober I will be sticking to my comfort zone and already-established Modern AU)

- Kazuha and Gorou

- Heizou

- Cyno and Tighnari

- Albedo and Aether

- Lyney and Lumine

Go ahead, have a look at the prompts, and have at it! I am really excited to see everybody's requests and start brainstorming for them!

Below the cut you will find the prompts that have already been filled

The prompts I've finished pre-writing will be in green

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Cyno & Tighnari)

01. Sharing a Receptacle (Sick Lyney & Lumine)

02 + 16. Can't stop puking & Waking up Puking (Sick Heizou)

04. Messy (Sick Tighnari)

07. Too Feverish to Think (Sick Aether)

09. Persistant Illness (Sick Tighnari)

10. Ill with an Audience (Sick Lyney)

11. Totally drained/exhausted (Sick Tighnari)

13. Professionalism Failure (Sick Kazuha/Gorou)

14. Can't Keep Anything Down (Sick Cyno)

19. Sick in More Ways than One (Sick Aether)

20. Late Caretaker (Sick Cyno)

22. Out of Character/Visibly Ill (Sick Cyno)

24. Panic (Sick Cyno)

27. Head pain/injury/ache (Sick Heizou)

Alt 01. Motion Sickness (Sick Lyney)

#earthquake author's note #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto #emeto fic #sickfic prompts

[danafeelingsick]

Nov(emeto)ber 2023 (CLOSED)

event prompts list | event rules | my rules for requesting

requests are open once again for novemetober! drop a prompt and character in my askbox, and don't be afraid to be specific (i'm stupid)

• these will be around 1000-word drabbles

• let me know if you want to be mentioned in your request!

• willing to write for:

genshin impact (main interest at the moment)

giving preference to my favorites (itto, diluc, kaeya), characters i haven't written for before and the new fontaine characters (Neuvilette, wriosthley, navia, furina, etc)

other media: limbus company | trigun (manga, anime and reboot) | my senpai is annoying (anime) | my adventures with superman (cartoon) | my happy marriage (anime) | undead unluck (anime) | stardew valley (game)

nameless characters like A & B / Sickie & Caretaker, self-inserts / Y/Ns are also allowed

PROMPTS LIST

be sure to check out the original prompt list for more information!!

1. Sharing a receptacle [CLOSED | Tighnari / Cyno]

2. Can’t stop puking [CLOSED | Furina]

3. Bad news = bad stomach [CLOSED | Navia / Clorinde]

4. Messy [CLOSED | Beidou]

5. Undesirable caretaker [CLOSED | Lyney / Aether}

6. Post-adrenaline puking [CLOSED | Vash]

7. Too feverish to think [CLOSED]

8. Choose: Loud or silent

9. Persistent sickness

10. Ill with an audience [CLOSED | Lyney]

11. Totally drained/exhausted [CLOSED | Neuvilette]

12. Group sickfic [CLOSED]

13. Professionalism failure

14. Can’t keep anything down [CLOSED | Diluc]

15. Free day!

16. Waking up puking [CLOSED | Kaveh / Alhaitham]

17. Sick for the first time

18. Unfamiliar surroundings

19. Sick in more ways than one

20. Late caretaker [CLOSED]

21. Sleepy sickie

22. Out of character / Visibly Ill

23. Subtle support

24. Panic

25. Cranky sickie

26. Nonverbal illness indicators [CLOSED | A & B]

27. Head pain/injury/ache

28. Chaotic body temperature

29. Fake “Faking it” [CLOSED | Yae Miko]

1. Motion sick [CLOSED]

2. Sick during transit [CLOSED]

3. Unconventional receptacle

4. Torture (literal or figurative)

5. Shaky/shivery

#novemetober 2023 #nov(emeto)ber #nov(emeto)ber 2023 #novemetober 2023: rescheduled #novemetober: rescheduled #emeto prompts #tw emeto #prompts list #tw vomit #tw illness #sickfic prompts

[danafeelingsick]

sɪᴄᴋғɪᴄ/ғᴀɴғɪᴄ MASTERLIST

ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵒᵐⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡⁿᵉˢˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡˡᵒʷ

ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ not ˡⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ

Fᴀɴᴅᴏᴍs

Gᴇɴsʜɪɴ Iᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ

• Nᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

Collection of drabbles for Novemetober 22

• ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏɴɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴜsʜɪɴ | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

In which Heizou and Kazuha share a few drinks too many, and on the way home, Heizou finds out why Kazuha doesn't drink that often, i.e. Kazuha is weak to alcohol and prone to overeating.

• ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀs ғᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀs | ᴀᴏ3

In which Aether meets up with his friends for drinks and Kazuha ends up drinking past what he can handle. And Venti finds out he is a quite squeamish.

• ғᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ art included | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

In which Childe and Scaramouche had been paired for an important mission, but on the way there things already start going wrong.

• ᴏɴᴇ sᴇᴀsɪᴄᴋ ᴏɴɪ | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

In which Arataki Itto and Kuki Shinobu travel to Liyue by boat, but what Itto failed to realize is that he gets seasick.

• ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ 1 – 2| ᴀᴏ3

In which Dainsleif is found by Aether and Paimon still in the chasm, weakened and injured, and at the verge of collapsing.

• ʜᴏᴛ sᴛᴜғғ | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

In which Childe and Zhongli share a meal together, but Childe can't handle Liyue's food and spices very well.

• Iʀᴏᴅᴏʀɪ ғᴇsᴛɪᴠᴀʟ sʜᴏʀᴛ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs 1 – 2 | ᴀᴏ3

A collection of short stories taking place during the Hues of Violet Garden event of 2.6

• ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ, ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ 1 - 1.5 - 2 | ᴀᴏ3 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ

In which Diluc eats more than he should've at his own birthday party organized by Kaeya, and ends up sick only to find out something has gone sour.

• sᴏʟɪᴅ ɪᴄᴇ, sᴏʟᴜʙʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴡɪɴᴇ 1 - 2 | ᴀᴏ3

[Rewrite of the Tavern Tales event quest “Solid ice, soluble in wine”] In which Aether has joined the Bartender Academy Week in Angel's Share, but didn't expect to find Eula drunk and on the verge of crying.

• ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ | ᴀᴏ3 | ᴀʀᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ

In which Diluc is feeling sick and nauseous during rush hour at Angel's Share, leaving Charles to take care of him.

• ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ's ᴅᴀʏ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴀᴄʜᴇ | ᴀᴏ3

In which you watch Arataki Itto suffering from a stomach ache after eating a lot of chocolate and candy for valentine's day.

• ʜᴀʟғ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴇᴀᴄʜ | ᴀᴏ3

In which, after meeting the traveler, Shenhe starts feeling the toll of trying out new food after years secluded in the mountains.

• ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴍᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇsᴛ 1 - 2 - 3 | ᴀᴏ3

In which Arataki Itto challenges Yae Miko to a competition to see who can eat the most ramen, without realizing kitsune ramen has beans in it.

• sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇ ʙᴇᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ | ᴀᴏ3

In which Arataki Itto suffers from an allergic reaction to after being attacked with beans.

• "ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ" | ᴀᴏ3

In which Arataki Itto mistakes an onikabuto for a lavender melon.

• ᴡɪɴᴇ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴘᴛ. 2 | ᴀᴏ3

In which Kaeya suffers from the consequences of his binge-drinking while being pushed left and right by his responsibilities.

• ᴡɪɴᴇ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴘᴛ. 1 | ᴀᴏ3

In which Diluc finds Kaeya passed out drunk in his tavern after closing hours, leaving him the responsibility to see him home safely, and defend him from lurking enemies. [tw alcohol abuse]

#emeto #emetophilia #emeto fiction #sickfic #sickfic masterlist #whump #hurt #hurt and discomfort #vomiting #puke #tw vomit #whump writing #emeto writing #genshin impact #genshin impact emeto