#fluffyjulyday2

@fluffyjuly

mira look at rumi who was hapily eating bevore her. the light of the candles seem to play with her paterns. her dres was a simple black dress but rumi make it the most beautifull dress in the world.

"mira" ask rumi. "are you alright."

mira smile

Mikey shouldn’t rejoice in his brothers’ current misery; he did genuinely feel sorry for them. And yet…

Finally, for once, it was his turn. His chance to care and coddle and dote, to return years of big brother favors.

Leo was too shivery to turn down the steaming bowl of broth Mikey held to his lips. Raph was too sluggish to struggle against being tucked in. Donnie didn’t resist the cool cloth pressed to his face; he leaned into it, eyes glassy with relief.

Fandom : Dr. Stone

Relationship : Senku x Kohaku

My Fluffy July 2025 contribution for the prompt : Nursing Back to Health.

I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.

Summary : Senku entered the infirmary silently and walked over to Kohaku’s bed. She had been sick all day and he wanted to make sure she was getting better. She was sound asleep. Earlier, he had given her medicine that brought her fever down. Judging by her peaceful sleep, it seemed to be working.

Disclaimer : Dr. Stone belongs to Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi.

@fluffyjuly

AO3 / FF.NET

Senku entered the infirmary silently and walked over to Kohaku’s bed. She had been sick all day and he wanted to make sure she was getting better. She was sound asleep. Earlier, he had given her medicine that brought her fever down. Judging by her peaceful sleep, it seemed to be working.

Apparently, she had been feeling unwell for several days. But true to herself, she had not told anyone and had pushed through to exhaustion so she would not delay the construction of the Perseus. Even though Kohaku was one of the strongest people he knew, she eventually collapsed. She had literally fallen into his arms before he could do anything. She was burning up and he blamed himself for not noticing sooner how bad things were. He had believed her when she assured him she was just tired and that a good night’s sleep would do the trick.

He had not insisted further, just as eager to keep working on the ship as Kohaku was. This project meant the world to her. That’s why she had downplayed her condition. If he had been more attentive, she would not be lying in that bed now.

He sat on the chair Kokuyo had used a few hours earlier. As soon as he heard what had happened, her father had rushed to her side. He had cried, remembering the years Ruri had suffered because of illness. Senku had promised to watch over Kohaku until she was out of danger. Something that brought Kokuyo a bit of peace.

But Senku could not help but think he should have seen it. Some signs are unmistakable and he had missed them. Thankfully, their scientific knowledge had come far enough to make basic medicines, but they were no replacement for hospitals or modern medicine, especially if the illness were serious.

“Stop frowning so much. Minami says it gives you wrinkles.”

Senku snapped out of his thoughts. Kohaku had just spoken. Her voice, tinged with mischief, was hoarse. Her eyes were half-closed, but she managed a faint smile.

“How do you feel ?” He asked.

“Better. And I’m sure it’s thanks to you.”

The irony was not lost on him. She was thanking him for taking care of her, while he was blaming himself for not acting sooner.

“I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t want to cause you any trouble or delay the Perseus.”

Senku’s heart tightened. He had never seen her this vulnerable before.

“Don’t worry about that. Everyone knows what to do. Taiju offered to take over for you while you recover. And I promised your father I’d take care of you.”

Even without that promise, he would have done it anyway.

“I know how important it is for you to get to America. It’s just as important to me. I’ll go wherever you go, Senku.”

Senku smiled faintly. He knew the people of the Kingdom of Science were ready to follow him. But hearing those words from Kohaku, spoken with such sincerity, made his heart beat just a little faster. So he did something he hardly ever did, with anyone. He reached for her hand and held it.

“Rest, lioness. We need you and your strength.”

“Don’t call me that,” she murmured with a smile.

Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. He started to withdraw his hand, but even asleep, Kohaku gripped his tighter. He let out a soft laugh. It’s fine, he thought. I can stay a little longer.

He would remain by her side until she was fully healed.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Durin/Wanderer Characters: Durin (Genshin Impact), Scaramouche (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Fluff, Insecurity, Power Outage, Storms, Candles, Wanderer is called Asahi Summary:

Durin has been waiting for a chance to share a book he's gotten to Asahi... and then a storm takes the opportunity away. Fortunately, seeing the disappointment in him, Asahi provides the candles to give the chance back.

(written for @fluffyjuly day two: nursing back to health)

Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003) Word Count: 1760

Posted on AO3!

--

“Oh, Mikey.” Don sighs, turning around the corner into his room.

Mikey looks around, vaguely wondering what the hint of worry and sympathy in Don’s voice could possibly be referring to. His room looks the same as it’s always looked: comics strewn on the table, fairy lights decorating the wall, Walkman abandoned on his eye-searingly orange beanbag, blankets and sweaters pooled around him on the floor, small tissue papers scrunched up and discarded everywhere… It’s all normal. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and huh. His voice sounds strange. Like he’s Batman. Even though he isn’t trying to do a Batman voice. “Why do I sound like Batman? ‘M not ready to go protect Gotham. I don’t even have a Robin yet.”

“You’re sick.” Don shakes his head, making his way over to the nest of warmth Mikey’s sitting in. Does he want to join? Awesome.

Instead of stepping in, though, Don leans over and places a hand over his head. Oh, that feels nice. Like ice and chilly water bottles straight from the fridge and bright popsicles sitting in the freezer. Popsicles sound amazing right now.

“Oh, wow, you’re really burning up.” Don mumbles, a deep indent between his brows. “How did none of us see it sooner?”

See what? Mikey’s head? Mikey’s head has been attached to Mikey this whole time, and Mikey has been in his room all morning. He’d woken up all groggy, tried to get out of bed, plummeted on the floor, and promptly decided to stay right there.

Did he accidentally skip breakfast? Oh. Whoops. That might explain why Don came looking for him. But if he thinks he’s going to be able to drag Mikey out and force some of Raph’s protein porridge down his hatch, he’s got another thing coming. 

“—Mikey?” Don says, an expectant look in his eye. Oh, he missed something. Whoops times two. He’d been too busy imagining Raph and his angry porridge.

“Is the porridge mad at me?” Mikey asks. 

Don blinks. “Porridge? What porridge?”

“Raphie’s. Is it mad ‘cause it’s not down my hatch?”

Don just stares at Mikey, his face doing a funny thing between frowning and bursting out into laughter. He coughs unconvincingly. “Um. No, no one’s mad at you. Not Raph. Certainly not his breakfast.”

He stands up and puts his hands on his hips, sighing. “But I do think something else should go down your hatch. Like medicine. Acetaminophen should do the trick.”

“No.” Mikey immediately scooches back, shell hitting the bed frame. His stomach is folding in on itself right now. If he puts anything in it, it’ll keep folding over and over until it implodes, painfully. 

“Woah, Mikey, easy.” Don’s eyes go wide as he backs up, his hands raised. “No need to yell. The medicine is good for you.”

Did he yell? Crap. He wasn’t trying to yell. He doesn’t like yelling at his brothers. He doesn’t want them to be sad or upset or have that look on their faces. 

Mikey’s eyes sting, and that makes his nose and throat burn. 

“What—are you crying?” Don asks, and he kneels again, trying to meet his eyes. “Don’t cry, Mikes, it’s okay. I know you feel terrible right now, but I promise it’s temporary.” 

“What’s goin’ on? I heard shouting.” Another voice pipes up from the door. Mikey’s blurry eyes catch a faint hint of red. “Wowza, this place is a sty, Mike, do you never—Mikey?”

Immediately, Raph rushes to him and crouches, bent low towards his face. “Why’re you crying?” He interrogates, worry threading through his words like yarn through needles. “What happened?”

“He’s sick. I’m trying to convince him to take some meds, but I’m having… technical difficulties.” Don’s fingers rap against his knuckles, fidgeting. “Can you help me get him in bed?”

“Sick, huh?” Raph huffs, the worry dialed back from an eleven to a four. “Seems like everyone’s sick now. Casey came down with something last week. That’s why you don’t hang out with bozos like him.”

“You hang out with him all the time.” Great, from imitating Batman to imitating Squidward with that nasaliness . “You’re a bozo.”

Raph and Don each put one arm behind his shell and one under his legs, carefully not dislodging the three quilts he’d wrapped around himself. He feels a little like a giant burrito, being picked up and placed on a softer, flatter surface, and that image makes him giggle.

“Now he’s laughin’.” Raph shoots Don a quizzical look. “Has he finally lost it?”

Mikey tries to explain the picture in his head between spurts of laughter, tears rolling down the sides of his face, but he doesn’t get very far. His entire body feels too hot, skin stretched thin and taut. And suddenly,  he can’t stand being a burrito.

He kicks and flails his limbs, trying to get rid of the hot-hot-hot, blissfully cool air hitting his exposed skin. 

“What the—Mike, woah, stop.” Raph rips the blanket from him at once, and Mikey finally takes an easy breath, eyes closing. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Okay, we have to get some Benadryl in him. Preferably the kind that knocks him out for two to four hours.”

“I’ll get Leo. If he screams bloody murder again, I don’t want my eardrums to be the victims.”

“You don’t have to get him, he’s right there.” Mikey mumbles, relishing the sweat cooling on his skin.

He hears Leo’s familiar footsteps get closer. They’re uneven, like he’s tip-toeing to avoid the mess in the room. 

“How did you do that?” Leo’s soft, amused voice asks. “Neither of them heard me, and you had your eyes shut.”

Mikey doesn’t know; his head is swimming too hard to give a real answer. His awareness is just in-tune with his brothers’ presences. One moment he’d known Leo wasn’t there, and one moment he’d known he was. His instinct had made him relax before his conscious thought needed his five senses. Something deep behind his ribs had finally felt complete, when soaring blue joined flaming red and sparkling purple. And so he’d known. 

Or, maybe, he’d just guessed and turned out to be right. That’s probably more likely. 

“Sensei’s bringing some capsules and a wet cloth.” Leo says when Mikey just gives him a pathetic moan in response. “But. Until then.”

Mikey hears Leo rummage through his stuff, his eyelids too sticky to open. And then feels soft fabric slip over his feet. 

He whines out loud, the hot-hot-hot coming back, but Leo puts a gentle stop to his squirming. “I know, I know, the socks suck. But you’re gonna need them. You’ll be feeling pretty terrible for a while, and they’ll help. You’ll switch between hot and cold, you’ll shiver, you’ll cry—”

“You’ll have a massive headache that you’ll complain so much about, the whole lair will be able to hear you.” Don volunteers, wry. 

“You’ll try to eat somethin’, say you’re feeling great, and not ten minutes later, throw all of it up in the bathroom.” Raph adds with a snort.

“—We’re very well-versed in Michelangelo Sick Days , is what I mean.” Leo chuckles. “So believe me when I say you need your socks, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.” 

Affection drips from their voices, gooey and melty, like a spoonful of honey in warm tea. Mikey smiles, a knot rising in his throat. Next to the more physical one that was already there, that is. 

A quiet click of a walking staff on the ground reaches his ears, and he sighs, the final piece of him fitting solidly into place.

“My son.” Master Splinter speaks, low and quiet. “You did not come to eat, and your brother says you are sick. How do you feel?”

Mikey opens his mouth to make a joke, a non-cringey one, hopefully. But he erupts into coughs, the hard and aching ones that come from the depths of his lungs. 

Immediately, four hands come to steady him: one on his plastron, probably checking for worse symptoms, one on his ankle, rubbing the joint in soothing motions, one on his neck, holding him up so he could breath, and one gripping his clammy hand tightly, promising him a calm after the storm. 

“Not awesome.” He groans finally, and frowns. Ugh, back to Batman. 

Sensei hums, concerned, and shifts. A second later, Mikey feels something cool placed on his forehead, and exhales. Wow. Gosh, that feels wonderful. He feels like he’s on cloud nine.

“If you would be so kind as to relieve your brother of some of his medical duties, Michelangelo,” Sensei says, “I am sure he would appreciate that.”

Don steps forward. “Alright, Mikes, sit up.”

Mikey does, because above all else, he is a good ninja and an obedient son, and if the drugs Don gives him can make him pass out for a bit, that would be great, please and thank you. But since he’s also Mikey, he keeps his eyes shut the whole time, and simply opens his mouth, waiting to be served. 

He can clearly picture Don rolling his eyes where he says, “Oh, of course, your highness, your wish is my command.” He pops the pills on his tongue and gives him water to wash them down. Mikey immediately flops back on the bed. 

They all stay there for a little while, talking to and about Mikey while Sensei replenishes his wet cloth, and he tries to listen, he swears. But the weight bearing down on his eyelids starts spreading to his whole body, and he can do little but fall victim to it.

“Think it finally kicked in.” Raph remarks quietly.

“Hmm, let him sleep. At least it’ll be peaceful for a while, before the fitfulness starts.” Don. “I’ll try to make him that tea you taught me last winter, Leo.”

“Sounds good. Or, y’know, I could make it. My tea is always the best, right, Master Splinter?”

There’s the sound of an ambivalent hum, and then more chuckles and bickering, getting farther and farther away. The cloth is finally removed, and Mikey feels a stroke and a soft peck on the top of his head. 

He jolts awake, grabbing the hand, blinking owlishly up at Sensei, who reels back in surprise. 

“Papa.” Mikey calls, a moniker he hasn’t used in ages. 

“Yes, my little clementine?” 

Mikey tightens his grip. “Will you be my Robin?”

Sensei looks utterly bewildered. “Uh. Yes?”

“Good.” Mikey nods, turtling back into his blankets. “That’s good.”

A slow, exhaled chuckle. “Sleep well, Michelangelo.”

Mikey does.

For day 2 of @fluffyjuly, had to rewrite this a few times

Amendments - Lucien struggles with the idea of Elijah as family. Follows the first half of Eaten Alive

----

He shouldn't be here, Lucien thought, he had avoided being alone with Elijah since the original had found and freed them, still aware of what he could do to Lucien, what he could make any of them do, he was blaming Tristan’s obsession and Aurora madness for their lack of caution around Elijah.

Elijah was clearly aware and had made no attempt to force Lucien to face or deal with his issues, almost as if he meant his words of just wanting to make things up.

Unlike the De Martels, for Lucien, it would take far more than a large house and money; to fix centuries of not being himself; of believing himself another; of being bait. However he would be forced to admit saving him from certain death, the long suffering kind werewolf venom caused may possibly be a start.

The evening before, despite being aware of the full moon and the fact several wolves had appeared in the city, Lucien had fallen behind in their group, to put more space between himself and Elijah and then foolishly froze when growls had come from behind him.

Elijah had pushed him out the way, taken the werewolves bites and after killing one and injuring another, scaring the remaining ones away. After they had returned home, he had retreated to his room and refused Tristan's offers of help, something that had to be burning the self-proclaimed eldest of their new family, and Aurora’s curiosity to watch.

The refusal was the reason Lucien had been left behind, as Tristan and Aurora had decided to deal with their annoyance of being turned away, to hunt down the last of the wolves. 

He hadn’t planned to bother Elijah himself yet when he had heard the choked gasps and whines and been drawn in to watch the other without any thought or intention and before he could snap himself out of the idle curiosity and fascination of watching Elijah, weakened, sweat drenched and pale he stood on a loose floorboard.

The creak was loud to his supernatural hearing but what followed was louder even if the voice was weaker than normal.

“Lu-cien?” He froze as Elijah opened his eyes to squint at him.

“I-I thought you were asleep.” Lucien stammered and wanted to hit himself because what else was ELijah doing and that didn’t explain Why he was there.

“I was,” Elijah sighed before adding “as much as I can” as he pushed himself up. 

Lucien braced himself for questions and demands however before either of them could say another thing Elijah lurched forward and twisted to heave over the side of the bed as he broke into a coughing fit.

Lucien watched as Elijah's body was racked by the coughs, then gagging, it had been centuries since he had been close to illness. Vampirism freed them from humanities’ weaknesses, yet he remembered how to comfort and found himself reacting, reaching out to steady Elijah before he almost toppled off the and running a hand down his back

After a few moments Elijah slumped back on the bed and Lucien handed Elijah the cup and kept hold of it as Elijah drank.

Elijah blinked at him in clear confusion for the help but thankfully, for Lucien, he slipped into a restless sleep before he vocalized it.

Lucien pushed sweaty hair from Elijah's forehead and upon finding a cloth left only to wet it and return to place the cool cloth on his brow.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan Characters: Emma Swan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills Additional Tags: Declarations Of Love, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Late Night Conversations, Domestic Fluff, Fluffy July, Fluffy July 2025 Series: Part 3 of fluffy july 2025 Summary:

Emma slowly snuck into the bedroom, careful not to wake her girlfriend.

Regina was sound asleep in the bed, looking just as ethereal as ever even in her slumber. Emma made sure not to wake her as she got under the covers.

-

Hiei surveyed the ground below from his perch in a tree. No immediate threats detected. Everything seemed to be in order for now. The sun began its ascent on the horizon, signaling the beginning of a new day. He turned and looked at the nearby window.

Through the glass he saw into a bedroom. Kurama's, to be exact. The redhead was fast asleep with his back to the window. It was cracked again. An open invitation for Hiei alone. A welcome mat he didn't really use.

Hiei used his super speed to effectively teleport over to the windowsill. He perched there, slowly opening it wider. He stepped into the room and then stealthily walked over to the side of the bed.

He'd wondered for a while now if Kurama's hair was as soft as it looked. Not being something he'd ever bring up in normal conversation, he never really thought too long on whether or not he'd get to find out. His fingers practically twitched with the urge to touch the locks before himself.

Hiei's arm moved before he ever gave it permission to. He reached out and gently ran his fingers through the beautiful tresses. Ah. Just as soft as fox fur. Silky and luxurious, it felt exactly like Yoko's tail. He should've known.

A soft sound got Hiei's attention and he watched as Kurama seemed to bounce just slightly. He was stifling a laugh. Hiei pulled his hand away at lightning speed then muttered, "I thought you were asleep."

Kurama rolled over so he was facing his guest. There was the slightest blush in his cheeks as he smiled warmly and watched Hiei for a moment. His tender gaze felt like it said a thousand words while not a single one slipped past his lips.

Sunlight peeked in through the window seemingly just to kiss Kurama good morning. It gave him an ethereal glow. He was a vision, messy hair and all. Hiei didn't dare blink, lest he miss the moment.

Kurama's smile never faltered, though it did seem to morph into something cheeky as he lifted up the corner of his blanket and asked, "Care to join me for a morning cuddle?"

"Why would I?" Hiei asked right back. He turned his head away and frowned. His whole face felt unnaturally warm, as he was sure that spot on the bed would also have been were he to lie there. It was probably quite cozy. An easy place to fall asleep. A soft snicker got his attention and he finally looked back at the redhead.

"Just kidding." Kurama teased. He sat upright, stretched, then attempted to tame his unruly hair. Hiei's gaze followed the motion of his hands.

Once the locks were as tamed as could be for now, Kurama added, "I'm being a hundred percent serious when I ask if you want to satay for breakfast, though. My mother is making pancakes."

"That is the most palatable human food as-"

"Long as it's covered in syrup," Kurama said simultaneously. His grin widened and his voice was positively dripping with affection when he added, "I know." There was a pause before he asked, "So will you stay?"