#'wait hold on a second man' cat on the verge of tears

[gowns]

ok listen i have been exposed to a lot of music theory and a lot of it has flown over my head -- i understood major and minor and etc and how to play easy chords and how to sing a pitch and all that, but any time people started talking about the circle of fifths and modalities i spaced out. i found this video last week and i was like whoa WHOOAAAAAAA holy shit... i understand now. and i printed out a big color picture of the circle of fifths and put it by my piano.

[sylverstorms]

Dimitrescus x Maiden---- The End of Winter(s)

Requested here. (I don't always have time for requests but we all needed this one.)

First come the gunshots.

Then, a feeling of dread.

It is strange; You’ve had intruders enter the castle before, in the years you’ve been with the Dimitrescus. Some lasted seconds, others hours. There were one or two the daughters kept around for more than a day, just for the thrill of the chase.

It is not the first time you hear a gun go off in the estate. Your past also renders the sound familiar, nothing remarkable.

But.

You can’t shake off the nausea that accompanies it this time. Your chest constricts and your gut churns and you just know something has gone terribly wrong.

Your fears are confirmed when, minutes later, Bela stumbles in from the doorway, her usual grace and aura of certainty completely gone. She is shivering, shaking, chilled to the bone. The visible patches of her skin look grey and hardened into an almost diamond substance. Flies are breaking apart from her and falling, twitching, to the floor.

You immediately rush to her and she collapses forward in your embrace. Her chin knocks against your shoulder, cold as a block of ice.

“Bela, love, what happened?!” you ask, while leading her to the nearest fireplace. Of course, you know about their weakness.

But how does he?

She wraps her arms around your waist tight, almost too tight, like she’s on the verge of breaking apart –physically, mentally—and you’re the only anchor she’s got.

From the top of the staircase, you hear Alcina’s hurried steps. Another door snaps open in the far corner of the room and you see Cassandra materialize out of the swarm there, then rush over to you.

“I… I… This can’t be happening.” Bela whispers, gasping for breath.

You can only hold her more securely against you, running your fingers through her blonde hair. It seems to calm her somewhat. Both your ministrations and the warmth.

You and Alcina share a look of pure worry.

“I failed. Mother, I failed.” Bela practically sobs without facing the woman and your heart shatters into pieces. You’ve never seen her like this.

“Bela—” she tries to say, while Cassandra remains there like a statue, unable to process the scene.

“He shot the windows and now he knows.” Bela pulls slightly away from you to say. “That stupid man-thing has got Daniela!”

“I’m going. I’ll rip out his intestines and feed them to him.” Cassandra growls and it’s a dark, ominous sound.

Alcina grabs her arm before she can swarm off. “No. I won’t risk another one of you. I will deal with that vermin.” she says through clenched teeth. You can see the effort she puts into keeping her voice steady.

You want to reach for her, to comfort her, but Bela is in a worst state, battling her body’s reaction to the cold and her self-loathing for her failure, so you stay put.

“Stay with Eliza. Do not let him anywhere near her. I will get Daniela.” she orders her daughters, leaving them as your guards.

Cassandra walks over to you and takes your hand in hers, lacing your fingers together. With her free one, she rubs Bela’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’ve wanted to kill Daniela several times over the last century so I can safely say it just doesn’t work.” even as she tries to lighten the mood, though, you can see how tempted she is to disobey Alcina and go after Winters. Her grip keeps clenching and unclenching. “He won’t come near you, darling.” she promises you.

But then… the thought strikes you. What if you go near him?

-

-

After you put Bela to sleep, you tell Cassandra to wait a while with her and that you’ll be back.

You will be back. Just not without Daniela.

The more you think about it, the more sense it makes for you to go. You are only human, yes, but that is precisely what can give you an edge in this. You do not have a fatal weakness to the cold. You move much faster than Alcina.

And although you’ve tried hard to grow beyond your past, you always knew you were no better than what it made you.

You’ve killed dozens who had done nothing to you during your time in the military’s special forces. Why would you not plant a bullet in the head of someone who dared to harm your new family?

Duke recognizes the look in your eye when you ask to see his collection of rifles. You pick one to your liking and test its weight in your grip. So much for promising never to touch a gun again.

You run through corridors and rooms before you hear his voice.

“Shut up, witch! I’m getting Rose back!” he shouts at Daniela, coped up in the library where there’s only one entrance. You press against the wall and carefully peek through. She gives a weak giggle, chained in front of an open window as she is.

God, she must be suffering.

Still, her eye rapidly flits to you. You motion for her to drop down. And then-

You turn into the room, rifle blazing, the first bullets driven into his head and the rest of the clip emptied in his torso. Blood splatters everywhere with every pull of the trigger and for the first time in your life you do feel something as you kill another person. Pure satisfaction.

You leap over the crimson pool that is swelling around Winters’ corpse to free Daniela, who is laughing even though she’s basically an icicle, at this point.

When you pull her away from the cold she collapses into you, much like Bela did, only she can’t move her limbs enough to cling to you.

“Daniela?!!” You hear Alcina’s voice wrecked with anguish. “I will slice you to bits, you filthy man-thing!” she nearly screams as she approaches the library.

“Go wild, dear. He won’t put up much of a fight.” you reply, a brief smirk curling your lip. Daniela burrows deeper into your warmth with a faint laugh. Alcina is equal parts confused and fuming when she ducks under the doorway—

And sees the body of Ethan Winters laying in a pool of his own blood. Her claws detract. She stalks over to his corpse…

Then crushes his head under her heel.

You wince at the gut-churning, crunching sound, holding Daniela tighter, but part of you is deeply relieved it’s finally over despite the brutality. Can’t take any chances.

You almost lost them. You lower your head to Daniela’s neck as silent tears start to flow from your eyes.

“Baby, I’m.. fine…” the redhead croaks out, nudging you with her head.

Alcina kneels down beside you, more exhausted than you’ve ever seen her. She gathers you both into a hug, resting her head on top of yours. You stay there a long time.

“My beautiful girl. My love.” she whispers to Daniela and you. She’s too proud to say most of the things she wants, but you can see them in her expression and the tightness of her throat regardless.

“…I’m hungry.” Daniela complains once feeling returns to her frozen form.

“When are you not?” you tease.

“We’d have that man’s flesh for dinner… but I would never feed my daughters something so disgusting.” Alcina says.

She picks Daniela up in her arms like a baby and you do not look at the bloody mess behind you.

-

-

After dinner, the Dimitrescus and you are all sitting in a couch in front of the fireplace, making light conversation and basking in each other’s presence.

Alcina is delicately sipping wine while you’re leaned against her, with Daniela practically in your lap. Cassandra is beside her and none too happy to not touch as much of you, though she is keeping your hand on her thigh possessively. Bela is curled like a cat at your legs, her cheek on your knee.

“Can you not hog her like you’re here by yourself?” Cassandra growls at Daniela, who doesn’t even think to budge.

“I’m the one who almost died. Piss off.” Daniela’s lips brush against your neck as she speaks.

“Daughters.” Alcina chastises.

“How long are you going to play the ‘I almost died’ card for?” Cassandra asks irritably.

“As long as it works~” Daniela kisses your jawline several times.

“Bela, are you still sulking?” Cassandra nudges her with her foot.

“Leave me alone...” the eldest sister huffs.

And the answer to that is a resounding yes.

You know it will take time to be completely over this. You know right now they all need you, in different ways.

Bela has to climb out of the self-blaming pit she’s dug herself in –she always is too rough on herself—and your touch grounds her.

Cassandra wants you to please her hard and long in bed to blow off the steam of the past day or she won’t be able to rest at all.

Daniela won’t show it but she was petrified and she’s still scared. She needs your attention, needs you to drown her in kisses, until it all goes away.

Alcina almost lost her girls to that man. She hasn’t recovered from the shock but you can see the bone-deep gratitude and the sheer love in her eyes whenever they lock with yours. Her girls will get you first, but when it’s her time with you…

Well.

She’ll thank you in so many ways.

.

Ko-Fi

[angeloroki]

s/o who is like cat from victorious with shoto; bakugo; izuku

— character ; shoto todoroki x gn!reader, katsuki bakugo x gn!reader, izuku midoriya x gn!reader

— request ; Okokok I just had this idea while laying in bead and I think it would be really funny/sweet for izuku shoto and bakugou to have a really dum kinda like cat from victorious

— genre ; fluff, crack

— a/n ; they're all aged up as usual !

shoto todoroki

shoto simply adores you

he may not show it directly through words or anything but he loves you deeply

indeed, since his childhood he has known only darkness and melancholy

so when he met you you were like a ray of sunshine in his world full of anger and resentment towards his father

always cheerful and bubby,

it's true that sometimes he had a hard time keeping up with your excess of happiness

but he would never get tired of your smile that went up to your ears

shoto is also very protective of you

you are a naive and sensitive person

so consider yourself lucky to have shoto todoroki as your bodyguard

he would never let anyone shade his sunshine

a simple cold look and the person would leave you alone

and you then, always so innocent you didn't understand why the person who was bothering you suddenly left you alone

shoto was your guardian, while you were his light

sometimes he had to take a long time to explain something that was obvious to him

you are too innocent and naive

but you will never see him lose his temper with you

he will take all the time he needs to explain to you for example that no, animals in movies are not real talking animals

you were both walking through the mall with a drink in your hand. it was a perfect afternoon, you were telling him in a cheerful voice a rather bizarre story that made you laugh so much, while shoto listened silently with a slight smile on his face. your expression reflected nothing but happiness and innocence. he had become accustomed to your soft and melodious voice when suddenly your gaze fell on a plush shop. a pout formed gently on your face when you saw the price. aoutch. your adorable expression was soon replaced by a sad one. this obviously did not escape your boyfriend.

a few days later, shoto was waiting for you in front of your house with a bag in his hand. a smile immediately appeared on your face. you loved surprises!

« shoto, what's that ? » you say in a questioning voice.

your hand retrieved the bag and you wasted no time in discovering the contents. a large frog-shaped stuffed animal was in it.

your smile widened even more, which shoto thought was impossible considering how much you were already smiling, and a small laugh escaped from your lips. Shoto was pleased, he had succeeded in making you laugh.

« ahhhhh you're the best i love you i love you i love you ! »

« i love you too baby. »

katsuki bakugo

I think you are one of the few people with whom bakugo loses his temper less easily

but your naivety or lack of understanding...

you were... how to say?

quite slow at times

on the rare occasions when he pays you a compliment

you take it in an offensive way, and you end up saying almost in tears "what does that mean???"

and then he has to explain word by word what he tried to tell you in an irritated way

but as soon as you understand that he wanted to compliment you, a wide angelic smile lights up your face

and that bakugo would never admit but it always made him happy

and maybe even his cheeks took on a slight red tinge oops

he was the first one to call you a moron or an idiot

but nuance you were his idiot

so beware of whoever comes to make fun of you

katsuki would take care of that person without you knowing

because he didn't want your smile to disappear because of some assholes

however he often made fun of your tastes, stupid as he liked to say

you loved cute animals like rabbits or little cats

so every time you saw one in the street or at the pet store, bakugo was the first to laugh at you

which made you cry

but bakugo is a wonderful boyfriend and once bought you a kitten that you called king explosion murder

bakugo was on the verge of screaming. you were currently giving him a hard time because he had dared to ignore king explosion of murder who was asking to be petted. and that didn't sit well with you.

« y/n is just a damn cat! it's not the end of the world. »

you turned around, your lips curled up in an annoyed pout.

« it's not just any cat. it's king explosion of murder, our cat. which you promised to take care of. as much as i did. »

he rolled his eyes before sighing loudly. sometimes you could be as stubborn as the young blond, and in some situations it could be really annoying for both of you.

« y/n. » he said in a firm, desperate voice.

« hmm. »

« i'll buy you an ice cream if you'll stop giving me the cold shoulder. »

you finally turned your head to him, your irritated expression replaced by a happy smile.

« let's go. »

izuku midoriya

izuku always admired your energy

indeed you were a living battery

with your bright smile and the way you lit up the room you were in

nevertheless he had to admit that it was sometimes difficult to follow you during the day

poor baby, you were going too fast for him

but what was even more difficult for him was to understand you

you were asking him questions that were so insane and stupidthat he didn't know what to answer

aaand what he understood even less was your innocence or your naivety

how could you accept to give 1000$ to a stranger in the street because he told such and such a lie to fool you ?

your excessive kindness did not fail to surprise the young man with green hair

while we know that izuku is already altruistic

anyway

but despite everything he knew that he had a mission as a boyfriend to make you happy

and fortunately for him you were easy to make happy

he also loved this trait of being fascinated by everything and so easily

it was one of the many traits you both shared

« izuku ? »

he turned his head to face you, a slight smile painted on your face. your sweet voice echoed in his head. your face was serious, which usually was always accompanied by a smile no matter how light or super happy it was.

« do you think that dogs who wear clothes get teased by other dogs who don't ? i hope not. because they're so cute... »

izuku blinked for a few seconds. a confused expression settled on his face. he shook his head gently, though he had to get used to her questiosn randoms.

« um y/n i don't know. but i don't think... »

you raised your eyebrows.

« i saw this video on youtube that showed the opposite. » you said, holding out your phone.

izuku looked at the video intently before handing the device back to you.

« y/n, baby. it's a cartoon. »

« so what ??? » you answer offended.

[fairyoftbz]

Retrouvailles | l. hyunjae

💐 pairing: florist!hyunjae x fem!reader  💐 genre: cliché fluff 💐 word count: 2.6k 💐 tw: i think i swore once or twice? 💐 synopsis: you are back in your hometown after living in paris for years with your family and a special encounter won’t make you regret your decision. 💐 requested: yes from kyu! i hope you’ll like it!! 💌 💐 a/n: i am so sorry but i absolutely love writing for florist!au, i promise it’s the last one ! (of this series) constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Looking around you as you got off the bus, you scoffed in utter shock as this neighbourhood hadn’t changed at all, even if you left eight years ago. All the shops and cafes remained the same, just two new ones got added to the ones that you always found welcoming and cute.

You got a weird sensations when you came back from school a few years ago, your parents stopping you in the entrance and asking you to follow them in the living room. Your siblings were already there, and they all looked down, your little sister on the verge of crying. You were fourteen at this time, and you had imagined the worst.

“Mom, Dad, what’s happening?” you worriedly asked, trying to catch your older brother’s gaze, but his head remained low, a visible disappointed look on his face. “It’s a bit complicated, sweetie, but Dad found a job in Europe. We are going to receive more money and live more comfortably, but we have to follow him,” your mother tried her best to explain you the situation without hurting you, but it was to no avail. You couldn’t control the tears submerging your eyes and cried uncontrollably, your mother rushing to take you in her arms.

“When are we coming back, Mom? Are we going to keep the house? I don’t want other people to live here,” your mother soothingly rubbed your back, trying to ease your pain, and she nodded. “I don’t know baby, but your grandparents are going to live here, it’s better than the house they currently have,” you pouted as you kept on crying, your mother resting a reassuring hand on the back of your head as she drew you closer, but immediately abandoned her arms as soon as your little sister started crying, rushing to hug her instead.

The move was hard, packing all your stuff had you feeling extremely sad to leave all your memories behind, unsure about the future years. The next day, you bid farewell to all your friends, hugging them tightly as you spent your last day at school trying to find solace in your friends and classmates’ presence before leaving. You cried in your best friend’s arms right in front of your mother’s car, and waved at her until she disappeared from the rear-view mirror.

Paris was a wonderful city, not quite like in the movies, but it was still charming. French was a tough language and you kind of struggled go get yourself understood because the other students didn’t really speak your native language, but with many months that turned into years of trying, you managed to now have a decent level in the language of love.

Despite your passion and admiration for this city, creating landmarks in the surrounding neighbourhoods as well as making friends were not easy tasks. However, with the help of your siblings and your parents, you had managed to make a bunch of friends, and that did you good when you didn’t have to think too much when you were talking since you were conversing in your native language.

Your time is France was amazing, you created great memories with awesome friendships, but you couldn’t help feeling nostalgic sometimes. You missed your neighbourhood, your grandparents, and your other relatives, only being able to see and talk to them via Skype or FaceTime. Years passed, and finally, at 22 years old, you decided to let your family in France, where your siblings had already constructed things with people, and come back where you grew up, where you felt like your heart truly belonged.

The shock on your face had to be very visible since some bystanders threw you a weird look as you stood stoic in the middle of the pavement. Spontaneously walking inside the kiosk that was as old as you remembered it, you warmly greeted the owner, an elderly woman that hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same hunched shoulders, long, white hair secured in a tight bun by a flower pin, her wrinkled smile was still as warm and as wise as you knew it when you were buying sweets from her.

You exchanged a few words with her, giving you a pack of the sweets you used to buy and the prepaid card you asked for. You still had your French number, so it’d cost you a kidney if you ever decided to call your relatives with it. The old woman looked extremely happy and somewhat pleased to see you, because she admitted that she got worried when you suddenly stopped passing by and buy sweets.

“And you decided to come back, how wonderful,” she said with her shaky, warm voice while handing you what you just bought. You smiled at her and nodded, eyes slightly widening when she grabbed your wrist. “If you need anything, my husband and I will be happy to help. I’m glad to see you back by us,” she said, and you felt your heart flutter. It was truly where you belonged. “Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you answered as she winked, wishing you a great day.

The fresh air welcomed you once you got out, feeling it clear your lungs from the slight more polluted air from Paris. You opened the bag of sweets and munched on a few, feeling the memories rushing back in your mind as you started wandering around the neighbourhood. You quickly texted your cousin that you were near their house, but he was probably too busy playing video games or napping, so you decided to go grab something more consistent to eat and wandered around, walking further into different areas.

The beautiful, light colours of a shop window caught your attention, not remembering its existence when you were younger. You got near the window and observed inside, discovering a jungle of beautiful flowers arranged by species. A manly back was working behind the checkout, assembling a bouquet of what seemed to be roses. You were tempted to go inside the shop to know more about this new place, but you quickly hid from the window when the man turned around. His face looked familiar, a tingling sensation appearing in your stomach as you tried to remember him. You knew him from somewhere, you were sure of it, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

The young man inside the shop slightly frowned as he saw someone suddenly disappearing from the window, the hems of their long brown coat lingering in his gaze. He slightly shrugged with a smile and petted the cat at his feet, who was demanding cuddles and attention. His hands were occupied with the order he had just finished preparing and he wrapped the flowers in some brown paper craft before placing it in the back office, where all the other orders were ready to get delivered by his co-worker Juyeon. He finished his cup of now cold coffee that was forgotten on the main counter, hearing the bell above the door chime.

Much to his great disappointment, it wasn’t the young lady that vanished before his eyes, it was Juyeon’s mother, who was here to pick up flowers for his sick grandmother. Hyunjae hid his dismay behind a warm smile, quickly pacing back and forth to give her the bouquet and bank her total.

A middle-aged woman walking out of the shop looked at you from the side as you still hid, tugging on your lower lip, rummaging your mind in order to find who this man was. You were getting frustrated as you stomped the floor with your foot, getting tired of your brain playing tricks on you as you were sure that you knew this man.

“Fuck it, I’m going in,” you said as you pushed the door open, the intense smell of flowers and pollen attacking your nostrils. It smelt really nice and welcoming, but your allergies said otherwise. 

You sneezed once, twice, and one last time before you could properly greet the man in front of you. He looked as curious as you were, he must have seen you since you weren’t the best at hiding.

“Welcome to the Butterfly flower shop, how can I help you?” the voice of the man sending a nice wave of chill down your spine, feeling yourself smile at who seemed to be the owner of the shop. “Hello, I’m just going to look around for a while,” you said while gesturing to all the flowers around you, sniffling to try and hold a sneeze in, but it didn’t help at all. It actually did the exact opposite that you had wished.

Hyunjae empathically smiled as you kept on sneezing, trying his best not to vocal how cute you were when the pollen seized your entire nostrils. You apologised profusely, mentally cursing yourself for being so curious. Maybe, just maybe, you should have stayed outside and admire him from afar, you wouldn’t be embarrassing yourself just like you were doing right now. But it was so tempting, you had to take a look. He was nice enough to hand you a pack of tissues, which you gladly took with a nod.

“I’ll be in the back office for a minute, don’t hesitate to ask me if you need any help,” he said with a warm smile and you nodded, holding a tissue to your face. “I appreciate it, thank you,” you answered as you started looking around the shop. All the flowers were beautiful, it was really tempting to just buy one of each without even caring about the prices. Since this was impossible, your eyes landed on some daisies, whose petals looked really nice and healthy. You felt bad to have made your choice just a few seconds after the man left for the back office, so you decided to wait for a bit.

Yet, another bad idea. Your nose felt ticklish, no matter how hard you rubbed your finger under it, it only became worse.

“Hum excuse me?” you politely said, and the man reappeared almost instantly, close to scaring you. His whole face lit up just with a smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. Staring at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as you detailed his face, his smile and manners hitting you like a truck.

This man was none other than Hyunjae, the young boy you had a crush on during the late years of middle school, right before you left for France. He grew up so much, yet his facial features had barely changed, they only matured. His smile was the thing that made you fall for him, his personality and physical features not helping the hopeless romantic that you were. You barely talked to him when you were younger, only when you were assigned in groups with him since he always hung out with the athletes and dancers, a group that you were dying to join but never did. Hyunjae was an incredible dancer, always performing for the school team and even outside.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” you heard his voice bringing you back to reality, feeling embarrassment invading your body as you’ve probably been staring at him for long, way too long to not be weird. “I’m-I’m sorry. Can I have a bouquet of those daisies over there, please?” you asked, and he nodded. “Sure thing,” walking around the counter, you followed him to the said daisies, the man gathering a good portion of his stock. Your eyes widened a bit but didn’t dare to say anything, only to follow him back to the counter.

“Are you from here? My usual customers are my acquaintances or the people living in the neighbourhood,” his voice trailed as he arranged the flowers, briefly looking at you with a smile before busying his hands in the plants again. “I was actually born and raised here, but I had to follow my father abroad for his job,” you said while delicately touching the petals of a peony right next to your head. Hyunjae’s hands stopped, and he looked up, eyes going wide. “You are from here? Where in the neighbourhood?” “I grew up in the house right at the corner of the street, the beige one with the burgundy wooden shutters and the garden.” “Hold on. Y/N?” his voice sounded so light-hearted as his eyebrows raised in shock. It was his turn to look at you with a surprised look on his face, his mouth stretching in a wide smile.

You offered him a smile and you fell in a comfortable silence. Thousands of questions were trotting in your head, dying to ask the other, but you were both trying to find a topic that didn’t sound too curious and invading. And it was hard because you both became suddenly very shy, your attention focusing on the flowers. It was normal for you, but Hyunjae wasn’t the type of guy to get intimidated this easily.

“So-” you both said at the same time and chuckled together, the florist gesturing you to go first. “No, no, go ahead.” “So you decided to finally come back? I understand if you missed this town, I would too,” he said and you smiled, approving his words. “I was too tired from France, plus I missed my family that stayed here. I just wanted to pay them a visit and maybe stay over until I find another place to stay on my own,” you explained while observing your former crush wrapping the flowers you had chosen. 

He secured them in the same crafted paper he did for the previous bouquet, placing it on the counter closer to you. Handing him your credit card, you stayed with your hand hanging in the void, Hyunjae typing something on the cash register. He religiously ignored your card and handed you the bouquet, giving you the brightest smile he could.

“Take this as a gift to welcome you back in town,” he said and your eyes widened, hand slowly moving away. “I can’t accept this,” you said, suddenly feeling nervous. Hyunjae encouraged you to take the flowers by placing them right under your nose with a smirk, tickling your nose. “Please do. Welcome back in town, Y/N,” he said as he noticed some fallen petals stuck on his dark green apron, wiping them away before offering you a smile. 

You took the flowers away from your face and sheepishly smiled, thanking him for his generosity.

“Thank you, really,” you said with a shy voice, struggling to look at him in the eyes. He shook his head, indicating you that it was nothing, and he cleared the counter. “Have a lovely day, Hyunjae. It was good to meet you again,” you said as you walked to the door, hand on the knob. “Wait Y/N- would you like to get some coffee sometimes? I’d love to hear about your time in France and… get to know you a bit better and make up for lost time?” His offer wasn’t something you had expected, but who were you to refuse getting closer to your former crush. 

This random encounter with him had your heart fluttering like it did when you watched him perform in front of the entire school a few years ago, when you were still a young teenager hopelessly in love. It was hammering in your chest, warmth travelling in your entire body as a radiant smile appeared on your face.

“I’d love to.” You said with a smile as you walked back to the counter, only to take the business card he was handing you. Your eyes landed on the black ink scratching the phone numbers, only to find another one messily written at the top of the small card. You thanked him and walked through the front door, waving at him with a smile as you walked away, clutching the piece of paper tightly in your palm, excited of what this reunion was going to offer you.

__

╰☆☆ Les retrouvailles nous font rappeler de vieilles histoires, mais elles consentent également à en créer de nouvelles. ☆☆╮

[bungou-stray-dingus]

I’ve just read the head cannons of Chuuya and Dazai’s bebes and I love it 🥰 can you write how they’ll react when someone kidnapped their babies and how they would get them back? QwQ

A/N : I've been gone for so long and I'm so sorry. This request and many others have laid dormant in my ask box for many many months and I'm so sorry. I went through big depression kick, and I didn't write for a while. I ended up getting laid off from my job because of the rona, and everything just felt uncertain for a while and I honestly didn't really know what to do. I slowly got back into writing, starting off with my fanfiction just to get back into the swing of it, and now I'm ready to make y'all proud and finish all the requests! I'm sorry for making you all wait so long, and I want this request and all other requests that I answer to be amazing for all of you. So, here we go! -Hopefully (still) Your Favorite Dingus

T/W : angst; kidnapping; slight mention of blood;

Osamu Dazai

Kazue was the literal light of his life, aside from you... obviously. You and his son were the center of his entire universe, he would do anything for you and his son. He made that quite known, considering how spoiled your son was already. At three years old, Dazai had already managed to buy your son everything he did, and sometimes didn't need.

Your son was a lot like his dad in the way that he liked to run off often, having you worried sick in the middle of the grocery store of mall. Dazai would often find him at the gumball machines or the tiny change eating rides in the middle of the mall. Your son hated to be confined in his stroller, and Dazai agreed that strollers were awful contraptions and that your son should be allowed to walk around.

His views quickly changed when you were out shopping for groceries one afternoon. Dazai was at work, and trying to keep your son in the shopping cart proved to be impossible, so you had agreed to let him out of the cart as long as he stayed close to you and hold your hand. You promised to get him candy if he followed those two simple rules, but thanks to Dazais relaxed parenting, your son just assumed he'd get candy no matter what. (Thanks Dazai)

You had only let go of his hand for a second, kneeling down to grab something from the bottom shelf. The last thing you heard was the small cry of "Momma!" and when you shot up and turned around he was gone. Your heart sank as you dropped the item in your hand and ran to the front of the store, asking the employees if they had seen your son, showing them the pictures in your wallet, and all of them shook their head, only able to offer their sympathies to you.

Calling your husband was the hardest part, trying to keep your voice and your hands steady as you held your phone up to your ear. The employees had already called the police for you, and they were scouring the entire store trying to look for any clue as to where your son could be.

When you had managed to tell Dazai what happened, he was on his way to the store, he didn't waste any time at all. He was furious, and at first he took his anger out on you. "I thought you were watching him!" "How could you let this happen?!" "Why would you let him go!?" He was angry and he wasn't thinking straight, but as soon as he saw how his words affected you, he quickly pulled you into a hug, peppering the top of your head with kisses. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, darling. It's not your fault."

An officer brought over Kazue's stuffed kitty cat which was a gift from Fukuzawa. He had gotten it on his first birthday and refused to part with it, he brought it with him everywhere. The sight of the kitty cat not being held by Kazue made you throw up immediately, your mind jumping to the worst possible scenario. You heard Dazai grit his teeth, his arm was wrapped around you tightly, and his grip on your shirt tightened.

The two of you race to the Agency, every other case that they had been working on is dropped instantly. Desks are cleared and pushed together to draw out a map of the entirety of Yokohama. You're sitting on one of the couches in the office, Kazue's kitten clutched against your chest, your tears soaking the top of the plushy. The light in Dazais eyes has disappeared completely, he's stern, on edge. His voice is hard but you can hear it break occasionally at the end of his sentences, especially when he says his sons name.

Ranpo and Atsushi are the main people Dazai communicates with, his voice is mixed with the constant slamming of his fists on the desk when his emotions take over completely. "Where the hell is my son!?" He shouts as he drops his head into his hands. That's the only time he'll cry, his body shaking violently. You walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both sob.

Everyone had been sitting around the office quietly watching you and Dazai have your moment. They all felt hopeless, especially when Dazai had initially went to Ranpo and he didn't seem to have a clue as to where Kazue was or who had taken him. "Why... Why would anyone take him? What's the reason? I want to know a reason!" Dazai shouted, his fists once again coming down on the desk. You pulled away quickly, giving him his space to lash out. He threw everything off the desk, his head dropping into his arms that were folded against the desk and letting out a scream.

His strength was being tested, he was breaking. It killed you to see him like this, you knew that there was nothing you could do to calm him. There was nothing worse that could ever happen to him, his son was everything to him. Kazue was the reason he had stopped attempting suicide, Kazue gave him a reason to stay alive, Kazue was his life line. Dazai loved his son with every fiber of his being, and right now he not only lost his son, he lost his reason for living. If anything were to happen to your son, if the worst case scenario was the actual case, you were sure that you would lose your husband as well.

All hope had seemed lost, the sun was quickly setting over the city. Everyone was emotionally exhausted. You were curled up on the couch, your head resting on Dazai's lap, his fingers massaging your scalp. "Please, get some rest darling. You need it." He whispered to you when he saw you slowly drift to sleep only to have your eyes open quickly. You felt bad for falling asleep, knowing that your son was out there somewhere without you or his father.

You handed Dazai the stuffed kitten before rolling over and trying to get comfortable. "Here, if anything comes up.. he's gonna need his Fuwa." You said sleepily, and you heard Dazai's chuckle, it sounded like he was being choked. He sniffled as he grabbed the kitten and brought it up to his face, silently crying into it.

Ranpo stood up from his chair and made his way over to the desk, pulling the map up off the floor and laying it flat on the desk. His eyes were wide open, the soft emerald green had long since turned as hard as the gem itself. Dazai shifted you off his lap and made his way over to Ranpo, stuffing Fuwa into his coat pocket. Atsushi followed him over and they both peered over Ranpo's shoulder, looking down at the map, following where Ranpo pointed with his fingers.

"The warehouse... next to the Port. Whoever it was quick enough to be gone before Y/N could notice, but he was still able to drop his cat. That means the person was on foot, so this person would have to be somewhere close to the store so a scene wouldn't be made, but somewhere they could hide him. They're most likely expecting us to show up, they want something in return, this is a ransom kidnapping." Ranpo said and Dazai nodded, trusting him with 100% of his being. He had to be right, but Dazai also knew how some ransom situations worked out. If it took too long...

"We have to go now." Dazai growled, and Ranpo nodded, Atsushi "hmph"ing in agreement. Kunikida stood up from his chair, joining the three of them by the door.

"None of you know how to drive. Let's go." Kunikida had a soft spot for Kazue, he wanted your son home safe as much as everyone else. (Even if he thought his father was a complete dunce.)

Everyone in the office agreed to stay with you just in case you woke up before the four of them got back, and with that they all ran out the door, hopping into Kunikida's car and speeding off towards the warehouse.

When they got there, they snuck up to the doors of the warehouse. Dazai leaned his head against the door, hoping to hear something, anything that would indicate that his son was in there. His heart was beating fast, and as much as he wanted to murder someone for stealing his son in the first place, he wanted to bring Kazue home with him, bring him back to you safe and sound more than anything else.

"Momma... Daddy..." He heard the soft whimpers of his son coming from the inside of the warehouse. It sounded like he was crying and Dazai to control his urge to kick down the door right then and there. He needed to be careful so that no harm would come to his son, but the sounds of his son softly crying had him seeing red. "Pwease..." He heard his son again and his heart shattered, the sound of his son pleading with his captor had him on the verge of an anger induced emotional breakdown.

Kunikida pulled the gun from the back of his pants and silently counted down from three before they pulled the door open. All four of them had guns, refusing to let Atsushi use his ability out of fear of hurting Kazue. There was one man in the corner of the room, a gun pointed at the head of your son as he smirked up at the four men. They all stopped dead in their tracks, dropping their guns to the ground and holding their hands up in the air. "Please, don't hurt him..." Dazai choked out, his eyes locking with his son in the corner.

"Took you all long enough to show up, thought you guys were detectives. He was becoming a pain in my ass, constantly crying, asking for his mommy and daddy and his Fuwa." The man chuckled as he cocked the gun back and pointed it back at your son. "Do you know why I'm doing this? Do you know?!" The guy shouted and Kazue cried out, his arms outstretched for Dazai.

He felt like he was going to collapse, the room was spinning, he had to compose himself though, he had to stay focused. He looked to Kunikida and Atsushi, hoping the plan would work out how they had said.

Kunikida quickly bent down and grabbed his gun off the floor, firing one shot at the arm of the man, making him drop the gun. Kazue let out a shrill scream and Dazai took this moment to run over and scoop him up off the floor, holding him close against his chest. The other three ran over to the man, Atsushi and Kunikida pinned him down on the ground as Ranpo cuffed his arms behind his back.

After the police took the man away they all made their way back to the Agency building, Dazai was in the back of the car holding Kazue on his lap, rocking him back and forth as his son fell asleep in his arms. The man had been one of the criminals they had captured before Kazue was even born. He had held an entire bank and its customers hostage, but had never actually killed someone, so he was let out on good behavior recently. He had been stalking Dazai, and he found out about you and Kazue and decided that he would have his revenge for the Agency ruining his life. None of them ever found out if the man would have actually hurt Kazue, and honestly, they didn't want to know, they were all just happy that he was unharmed.

When they walked through the door and you saw Kazue being cradled in Dazais arms you fell to your knees and cried. Tanizaki and Yosano had to help you stand up, and as soon as you found your footing you ran over to Dazai. "Hi Momma!"

Dazai now sternly enforced the stroller rule, he didn't want to go through anything like that ever again.

Chuuya Nakahara

Asa was his princess and you were his queen. But his daughter, oof, if anyone even looked at his daughter wrong for crying he would kill someone. Do not test Chuuya when it comes to his child. He would kiss the ground that she crawls on, he loves her so much.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think his office was a shrine dedicated to her and you. There were framed pictures of you and her, and sometimes the three of you hung on his wall, propped up on his desk and coffee table, pretty much any surface that could have pictures, they were covered.

She had just celebrated her first birthday, she was learning how to walk which Chuuya would not shut up about. If there was ever a moment to talk about his daughter he would. The Mafia members had all learned to just deal with it, knowing that if they looked agitated about the constant talk of his daughter they would either be demoted or have their asses kicked.

"Does she really have to start sleeping in her own room? She's got a crib in our room, I don't see the problem." Chuuya whispered to you from the couch as you made your way into the room opposite of yours and his. She had an entire nursery that was practically unused due to protective parenting. He really didn't see a reason in having her in a completely different room when it was so much easier to have her in yours and his room. If she woke up, he could get her immediately and get her back to sleep in the bed between the two of you.

When you came out of the bedroom you sat with him on the couch, his arm habitually wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer. He turned down the television so he could hear the monitor clearly. "If she gets too used to sleeping with us in our room, she'll never want to sleep in her own room. She's not that much further. You're spoiling her, honey." He groaned and you stifled your laughter, propping yourself up to press a quick peck to his cheek. "We should try to get some rest while she's sleeping. Come on."

The two of you laid in your bed, he held you close against his chest while you traced hearts against his bare chest with your finger. "I don't know why she has to sleep in her own room now though. She's only a year old. She's still my baby. I feel better having her close." He sighed, adjusting his free hand behind his head as he turned to look over at the video monitor, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly as he watched his daughter sleep peacefully in her crib.

"You're scared of her growing up. She's turned you into a big softy. You know, she's gonna keep growing."

"Don't say that. She's only one." He pulled his arm out from underneath you and ran his hands over his face. He hated thinking of her getting bigger, growing older. The thought of her not being the adorable, babbling baby that waddled over to the door whenever he walked in with open arms was enough to make him almost cry. ALMOST.

"You know... we can have more..." You said almost too seductively as you peppered kisses across his shoulders. It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't take it as such. He wouldn't mind one or two more little princesses or princes teetering around the house.

The two of you thoroughly tired each other out, the night seemed to be going perfectly. Asa hadn't woken up yet, and this was the first time the two of you had been able to be intimate in that way since she had reached the eight month mark. You fully blamed Chuuya for that though, he had spoiled her so much, but he didn't seem to mind it at the time. Now he seemed to be convinced that having her in a separate room wasn't such a bad thing.

Everything was silent, the only sound was the crickets chirping outside and the occasional sound of a car passing by in the distance. That would shortly come to an end though, the sound of glass breaking and Asa's blood curdling scream coming from both the monitor and the room across the hall had jolted you and Chuuya from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the monitor off the nightstand and Chuuya ordered you to stay in bed as he ran out of the room and into Asa's room. You knew though, it was too late as you saw the cloaked man who was holding your daughter jump out of the window just as the door flew open and Chuuya came into view on the screen.

"NO! Son of a BITCH!" His screeching voice was just as loud as your daughters cries had been and you dropped the monitor into your lap on the bed as the realization hit you. This wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to Chuuya, if you had let her sleep in your bedroom as she always had. He ran back into the room, flicking the lights on as he went over to the closet and quickly got dressed.

"This... this is my fault... if I would have listened..." You said, not able to face your him at all. He turned to face you, sighing as he tried to calm his nerves. He was already fully dressed, ready to hunt down and murder the asshole who had the nerve to take HIS daughter. He made his way around the bed to the side you were on, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you softly.

"Don't you even dare blame yourself. I'm gonna get her back. I need you to stay here though, I can't have you getting hurt." You knew what he meant. The way that he felt right now, this would probably turn into an all out war, and if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time you could end up injured. You nodded slowly, kissing him one last time before he ran out of the room and out the front door.

He barely gave the car time to start up before slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, peeling out of the parking spot and speeding down the street. His vision was blurry as the tears started to stream out of his eyes, he was only able to keep his composure long enough to hopefully make you feel better. Now that he was alone he had hurdled the thin line between lashing out and having a complete mental and emotional breakdown.

The only thing keeping him from getting into a severe car accident was knowing that he had to stay alive to save Asa. Although he couldn't see where he was going through his clouded vision, he had dedicated the route to muscle memory, and he could luckily see faint streaks of red and green lights indicating braking cars and traffic lights.

When he got to the headquarters he got some questionable stares from the guards, it was three o'clock in the morning, considerably late, or maybe early, to be coming into work. When they attempted to speak to him he couldn't even mumble out a "fuck off" through his sobs. He raced up the stairs, not having the patience to deal with waiting for the elevator to get him up to the floor he needed to be on.

He stormed into Mori's office, and, not unlike his boss, he found him sitting at his desk, his hands folded under his chin as he stared down at the papers in front of him. "They said you'd be on your way up. What's wrong Chuuya?" Mori asked, motioning to the armchair in front of his desk. Chuuya didn't want to sit though, so he strode over to the desk, slamming the note that had been left in Asa's room down in front of Mori. "What is this?" Mori asked, grabbing the note between his gloved fingers and unfolding it.

"He got my Asa. I'm gonna fucking kill him!" Chuuya screamed, remembering the words that had been carefully scripted out on the thick note paper.

"For the beautiful woman who was murdered by one of your own. I shall avenge her. An eye for an eye. -H"

He knew exactly who "H" was, and he knew exactly who the beautiful woman was that he was speaking of. What he didn't understand was why he would target his family, his daughter to get back at the Mafia for what had happened. Chuuya hadn't even taken part in the situation that had sparked this outcome, so it made absolutely no sense to him.

"Chuuya, you need to stay calm. Asa is loved dearly by everyone here, I will get together everyone needed to find her." Chuuya found his bosses strange sense of composure to be infuriatingly irritating.

"How could I possibly stay calm!?" Chuuya shouted, he wanted to lash out, he wanted to go off on someone, anyone.

"I would feel the same way if it was my darling Elise who had been taken." Mori said, but that was a mistake. Chuuya sighed, exasperated. He was pacing the floor, but when Mori had the audacity to utter those words, he punched the wall that he was closest to, leaving a large hole.

"She's your god damn ability! You wouldn't understand half of what I was feeling because this is my actual fucking DAUGHTER! So don't tell me I need to stay calm!" Chuuya screamed, the tears seemed to flow endlessly, staining his cheeks as they ran down to his chin, hanging on for only a second before splashing down onto the hard wood floors. Mori didn't argue back, he knew that Chuuya was emotionally unstable right now, so he just nodded in agreement.

"So what is it that you need me to do?" He asked, the phone already in his hand as his fingers hovered over the dial.

"Get everyone here..." Chuuya muttered before finally crashing down in the armchair. His sobs had eventually become choked off, and he was left shaking in the chair, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he tried to hold himself together.

Everyone had filed into the office, some of them looked agitated, others looked tired and pissed off that they had been woken up, but when they saw Chuuya's current state they knew that something was wrong. His usual smug, cocky smirk seemed to have been erased, the only emotion that was left to be read on his face was pain.

Chuuya didn't need to say much, no one needed a thorough explanation to jump into action. Asa was the one beacon of light that graced the walls of the Mafia headquarters whenever Chuuya brought her in. She had even managed to make Akutagawa crack a small smile when she had burped in Chuuya's face and then spit up on his freshly laundered coat.

Around five o'clock in the morning he got a call from you. He answered it quickly, and it broke his heart to hear how distraught you were. "H-Hi honey... It's almost time for her bottle. She'll need to eat soon, and she'll need to be changed, and and and... god, please tell me you've found her..." You were a mess, and he could only imagine how much harder it was for you to be there in your home, surrounded by all of her things but not her.

"Not yet... but I swear, I'm gonna bring her home to you, okay? Trust me." He needed you to trust him, because right now all hope seemed lost. There was no possible leads as to where the jackass could be keeping her, nobody knew where to find the guy.

"It's... It's so quiet... please bring her home." You whispered out between broken sobs, he heard you try to swallow back the lump that had been building in your throat. He could only nod, giving you a small hum as an answer.

After you had hung up, whispering out a solemn "I love you." Before ending the call he was right back at it. He was dead set on catching this guy today. Not only had he stolen away his daughter, but he had destroyed his wife, his love... This man had crossed a line and he was going to pay for it.

"Oi, Chuuya. Look, at the bottom of the note." Tachihara said, he had the note close up to his face, his eyes squinting as he focused on the tiny scrawling at the bottom of the page. Chuuya ran over and snatched the paper out of his hands, walking over to the large window to try to shine some light onto the paper and see the writing clearer.

"For fucks sake, they're coordinates! They were here the entire time!" Chuuya was seething now, this must have been a sick game to that man. Chuuya grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed for the door, but he was stopped by Mori who placed a hand on his chest.

"This might be a trap, how do you know it's not?" Mori said and there was a soft murmur of agreement from the group of people that were standing around.

"Does it matter!? She could be there and that's all that matters!" Chuuya screamed, the tears that threatened to spill were stinging his eyes. The fact that they thought he cared about his own safety as this moment was almost laughable, he would have laughed if his throat didn't feel like it was closing in on itself. "If you're so fucking worried than I'll take Akutagawa..." This is all his fault anyway, isn't it? Akutagawa was the one who had murdered the woman who he was avenging, so he might as well come along.

Chuuya pulled the coordinates up on his phone and it pinpointed a building that seemed on the map to be rundown and abandoned. A princess like Asa didn't belong in a place like that, it made him sick to even imagine his beautiful, precious daughter in such a desolate area. He growled as the directions read that it would take an hour and a half, maybe two hours to get there.

He would make it in half the time though. He could give a shit less about traffic rules, and if the cops even dared to try to stop him on his mission, the wrath of Hell and Chuuya would be brought down upon them. He sped down the streets, winding through traffic like it was nothing. He didn't speak a word to Akutagawa, and Akutagawa knew not to talk to him right now either. Chuuyas mind was a frenzy, a whirlwind of emotions. A mixture of anger, depression, rage, and heartache, and all of those emotions were just simmering.

The devil himself wouldn't be able to stomach what Chuuya planned on doing to the man who took his daughter from him.

He made it there in record time, the drive only took fifty five minutes, an hour tops to get there. The entire drive, Chuuya's eyes would glance in the windshield mirror, looking back at the empty car seat, hoping that it would soon be filled with his perfect little bundle of joy to be brought home.

Chuuya kicked the door in and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the trail of blood droplets on the floor. His heart sank while his stomach rose, he tried to control his dry heaving as horrid images and scenes filled his mind. "Remember his ability, it uses blood." Akutagawa said sternly, trying to keep Chuuya from losing it completely already.

They followed the trail up a case of stairs that seemed like a safety hazard, and Chuuya hated to think that his daughter was in this place at all. It wasn't safe enough for her to be in, she could get hurt at any point. This place needed to be demolished as soon as he got her out of here. He would do it himself if the city didn't want to.

The blood stopped in front of a door, and as soon as Chuuya heard the soft whimpering of his daughter behind the door he kicked it in. She was sitting in a small dingy playpen in the corner of the room, and Akutagawa had to hold Chuuya back to keep him from running straight for her.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? SHE'S RIGHT THERE!" Chuuya shouted, alerting his daughter to his presence. She pulled herself up on the rails of the playpen, stomping her feet to show him that she was becoming impatient.

"This might be the trap. We need to be careful." Akutagawa hissed, and Chuuya knew he was right. He sighed and peaked into the room, scanning it entirely to make sure it was empty before stepping in. Akutagawa followed close behind, Rashomon creating a shield around himself and Chuuya as they made their way over to Asa.

As soon as Chuuya got close enough he pulled her out of the playpen, holding her tight against his chest. He breathed her in, finding instant comfort in the smell of the all too familiar baby lotion and lavender shampoo that you used for her nightly baths. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, princess. My beautiful baby girl, daddy loves you so much." He cooed to her, but just as things seemed to be going flawlessly, a loud scream escaped her tiny rose petal lips.

A hail of what seemed like bullets were fired across the room, and one of them managed to hit her leg. Chuuya held onto his composure long enough to check her leg, it had just skimmed by, but it was enough to make her bleed and to make her cry. He was trembling, all of his emotions had formed into one cluster fuck of pure, unfiltered rage. He passed Asa over to Akutagawa and ordered him to leave the room through his teeth. Akutagawa didn't bother to argue, instead wrapping Rashomon around himself and Asa completely and running out of the room and down the stairs.

Chuuyas teeth were barred as the man stepped out from the darkest shadow of the room. He didn't have time to speak before Chuuya charged at him, tackling him to the ground and pummeling him with his bare hands, the force of his ability behind each and every punch would leave the man unrecognizable. He was going to kill him, he wanted to kill him, but the vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop. He pulled his phone out and when he saw it was you it brought him back to reality, the reality that his daughter was waiting for him, and you were still at home waiting for him to bring her home.

He answered it, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wiped the blood of the man off his hands. "Did you find her? Tell me you found her!" Your voice was hoarse, he knew that you hadn't stopped crying. He couldn't keep you waiting any longer, you deserved to hold Asa in your arms as well.

"We'll be home in an hour or two." He said, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders when he heard your sigh of relief at his words.

Two Months Later

Chuuya was propped up on the floor, his head resting in his open palm as he bounced Asa's plush horse across the floor, making the horse noises as he did so. The sound of Asa's laughter was music to his ears, and her wide smile was just as beautiful as she flaunted her newly sprouted bottom two teeth. She crawled across the floor towards Chuuya who quickly lifted her up in the air. "Airplane Asa coming in for the landing!" He said playfully as he lowered her down to her his face and pressed a quick kiss to her nose.

His head shot up as he heard the bedroom door open. You had your hands behind your back, and the wide smile that spread across your face when you saw him made his heart flutter. He sat up, his back against the couch now, Asa on his lap attempting to imitate her fathers horse sounds as she bounced the plush horse across her lap. "What's up, baby?" Chuuya asked, wondering what could possibly be behind your back.

You moved your hands to the front, holding the white stick between two fingers and smiling down at him. "Congratulations, daddy."

a/n : I hope you enjoyed my first request after my ridiculously long hiatus. Again, I apologize for being gone so long, but I can't wait to start working on all the requests that are in my inbox. I love you all!

[juuls]

Juulna’s ‘Hold Onto Your Sanity’ Fic, Book, and Music Recs for the 2020 Dumpster Fire... Part 3!

So you just crash-landed behind enemy lines in a war you know barely anything about except that your role seems infinitesimal and insignificant, and dumped into a year, 2020, that already seems fifteen years too long.

Before you drown your sorrows in some fantastic scotch or wine coolers for days (or weeks)… I have a proposal.

That you step back from the flames, tune things out for a bit, and try to forget about the outside world for a while (but don’t forget to vote or I will be very sad at you!).

These fics are meant to take you out of your head (I’m including more plot/story-minded fics than PWP) for the next few weeks or months as the world goes to hell (even more) but of course there are some bits of solid angst in these as there is wont to be in many a fic. Check the tags, read responsibly, don’t like-don’t read, ship and let ship, and please do leave a kudos and maybe even a comment! :)

This is PART THREE.

Check out here for Part One and most of the Marvel fic recs, along with a selection of book recs too. :)

And here’s Part Two, which has the bulk of my Star Wars and Game of Thrones recs, along with Spotify playlists!

Part Three is this one here, all about the Potterverse.

(Not yet complete) Here’s Part Four, filled with even more shippy goodness from all over the Star Trek universe. So. Many. Ships. :D

(Not yet complete) Part Five is Witcher, Man From UNCLE, Stargate: Atlantis and SG-1, Sherlock, Hannibal, and Doctor Who.

(Not yet complete) Part Six will probably be all for my newfound love of Supergirl, along with some Game of Thrones and Marvel ships I skipped, because I gotta stop somewhere with all these recommendations or I’ll be at it forever. Seriously, how much of this stuff have I read!?

But I think we all need some distractions from the world these days, eh? Or something to console us other than internet rage and a barrel of ice cream and/or hard alcohol.

Potterverse

I’ve chosen to pick fics (mostly) off of AO3 for their easy reading access, though HP fics’ golden years were on sites like fanfiction.net and other independent archives like Sycophanthex and others which have closed their doors over the years, sadly. Some of these fics date back to almost 20 years old, or more, amazingly!

For fics on fanfiction.net, I highly recommend using this link (FicSave) to epub/mobi converter rather than dealing with the frustrating app. It functions like AO3′s built-in download button.

SSHG/Sevmione

Rec assistance by @perrydowning​

Second Life by Lariope

Phantom of Hogwarts by Good_Witch

Romancing the War by Pubella

The Poison Garden by turtle_wexler @turtlewexlerwrites

A Light in the Fog by turtle_wexler

Pride of Time by AnubisAnkh

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Snape’s Story by Tbird1965

Recognition by jezzie (krith)

Tedium of Time by oneredshoe

Tango by Desert_Sea

Sense and Insensibility by Desert_Sea

Time Mutable Immutable by Grooot

The Twenty by Leyna Rountree

For the Only Hope by ausland @run-with-me-to-the-sea

Bundle of Joy by LadyTuesday

Our Hands Tied by multilingualism

Choose Something Like A Star by TeddyRadiator

Mistress of the Stacks by Ms_Anthrop

A Derailed Train of Thought by Ms_Anthrop

Antiquities by stormcorona

Watch Over Me by @snapeslittleblackbuttons​

Dropped Down into the Unknown by @q-drew​

Delicate Transitions by @morbidmuch​

Lay Me Low by TeddyRadiator

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Another Dream by @dragoon811​

A Chance For Happiness by @corvusdraconis​

Breath of the Nundu by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose

Just to Be by Amarti @amarti-writes-stuff​

Hinge of Fate by Ramos

Forged in Flames by @mswhich​

Days in the Sun by bluespring864

Making sure the boy who lived, actually does by Hold_en @hold-enwrites​

The Problem With Purity by Phoenix.Writing

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis

The Headmaster’s Wife by Mrs_HH @propertyofseverustsnape

The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster, and the Deputy by mak5258

Cloak of Courage by Wendynat

Hermione Granger and the Intended Vessels by ShawnaCanon

Augury and Ardor by SnapeySnax

Before the Dawn by snarkyroxy

The Love You Take by Subversa

His Draught of Delicate Poison by Subversa

and sooooo many more if you want them just ask, this is both mine and Perry’s oldest ship lol

Gramander (Original Graves x Newt)

A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage by Anonymous

take a deep breath (and let it go) by lincesque @tumbloncat

Roar by @elenothar

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by @prosodiical

Dearly Beloved by prosodiical

Basic Instincts by @manic-intent

Promised by Miss_Lv

Plan G by Aate

Heat of the Chase by argentoswan @wannahearaboutmycats

Newt Scamander’s Guide to Getting Things Done by arthureameslove

Against all Odds by Maril

Where I Belong by Mishafied

He Wants To Say, “I Love You, Nothing Can Hurt You”  by @obsidionwingsofmidnight

Arranged by Miss_Lv

death of a bachelor by gudetama (elementary)

The Graves Identity by Mishafied

you make me feel this way somehow by gudetama (elementary)

The Nature of the Beast by AntiGravitas @absolutelynogravitaswhatsoever

The Knights, the Newt, and the Rose by @yinyangswings

The Wizard’s Cat by @natecchi

The Color of Boom by gypsiangel

Signalling Theory: Blue Coat by @obaewankenope​

Flame by @esamastation​

And The Tag Read Simply: “Pretty” by @funkzpiel​

Aren’t You Gonna Arrest Me, Officer? by JoyBurd

a little bit lost by shortbread @shortbread-fanfiction​

Dramione

Rec assistance by @cuthian​

Seven Times by kerri240879

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady

The Fallout by everythursday (orphaned and only available on AO3 now, but complete)

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen

Turncoat by elizaye @imnotleavinherewithoutyou

The Virgin Conundrum by AkashaTheKitty @akashathekitty

Bad Faith by Morrighan256

Isolation by bexchan @bex-chan-blog

The Serpent, the Witch, and the Broom Closet by bitchywitchy

Silencio by AkashaTheKitty

All You Want by senlinyu @senlinyu

Static by galfoy @heymanticore

What the Room Requires by Alydia Rackham

And We All Fall Down by @rumaan

Ambition’s End by Hanako A

Wait and Hope by mightbewriting @mightbewriting

Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95 (mayarox95)

Chronos Historia by In_Dreams @indreamsink

A Muggle-born Magic by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets

Hunted by Bex-chan

A Second Look by @riverwriter

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae

This Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi

Nocturnus by In_Dreams @indreamsink

Broken by @inadaze22​

The Green Girl by Colubrina

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Rebuilding by Colubrina (really just anything written by @colubrina)

Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie

Can’t Change the Way I Am by @nauticalparamour

Law and Marriage by DragonGrin (formerly TeenTypist)

The Tower Window by @xodramaqueenox​

Unexpected by Emara88

Something Old, Something New by Kate Dessi

Suppressed Emotions by hopelesslydevoted.xx 

Silver Blood by @freyaishtar

When the Day Met the Night by @bex-la-get

Harmony

A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

A Step to the Right by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

Eighth by lorien829

The Catalyst by lorien829

Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists by lorien829

Knife’s Edge by Celtic55

The Black Book by mosteveryonesmad

Awakening by SweetShireen

The Sword and the Snake by bartonfink1974

Dispelling the Silence by Indygodusk

One Year Later: Return to Hogwarts by Twilight’s Inferno

DraHarmony

Fourteen Thousand Galleons by @frumpologist

The Invitation by hot_elf @hot-elf

Love Love Love by MissELY @misselylux​

Changing Scenery by aethling

East of Eden by msmerlin @ms-merlinblack

Turn Back Time by Dazeventura6

Foxfire by @setissma

Come Together by @nuclearnik

The Soul of the Wolves by LR_Earl @fanficbylrearl

Running From Lions by tryslora @tryslora

An Unexpected Family by ladyroxanne21

The Prophecies by jamcreynolds

Drarhinny

Reconstruction by @aldersprig​

Fell From the Sky by BrandonStrayne @brandonstrayne​ (I really love this one, and not just as a Canadian.)

Demons From the Past by pottermum

Drarry

Rec assistance by @newtypeshadow​

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore

Lost Among and Falling by @bafflinghaze

The Corruption Sequence series by beren @berenwrites

Sentinel ‘verse series by elyssblair @elyssblair-blog

Date Blindness by dysonrules

Starts With a Spin by Maxine @serasarahhhh​

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson

Paradigm by dysonrules

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Happen by ignatiustrout

Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Pieces of What by Jadwiga

Found, Not Lost by inspiration_assaulted

Shared Detention by DadIWriteGayPorn

Dirty Little Secret by Writcraft @writcraft​

19 Years by shilo1364 @whimsicaldragonette​

Morning Suns & Coffee Runs by laugh_a_latte @queer-coffee​

Reus Una by purplepen76

Between Ink and Blood by Candamira

Ginmione

Distractions by @morningsound15​ 

Cissamione

(This seems like it’s a bit cracky, but there’s some good ones, I promise! I sorta stumbled ass-backwards into this ship but really enjoy some of them.)

One Step Left by Cysteine @cysteine

Extinction by @rubikanon​

Blinding Light by @16-pennies​

Somebody Loved by beforeyouspeak

...

..

There. This is much better, isn’t it?

So my challenge to you, if your world is falling, burning down around you in flames... is this:

...if you feel yourself getting anxious or depressed, whether from the news or being cooped up in isolation or bored or on the verge of tearing your hair out or jumping off that roof or grabbing something to go after the dictator-of-the-week.... pause, take a breath, open up this rec list, close your eyes and pick something, and let chance take you somewhere hopefully far away. Let yourself be transported.

Oh, and don’t click on this Google Drive link. Really, there’s not 30+ GB of data on that Drive I’m sharing. Shame. There totally aren’t tens of thousands of books, as many audiobooks as could fit, and a large collection of fanfiction downloaded from AO3 in there. (Also, not all fics have been shared to that folder yet; I’m working on it a little at a time as I download more.)

[marvelousstevetony]

So this is kind of a random prompt, but sick Steve doing an interview and trying not to sneeze. However, he ends up having a fit and is really embarrassed by it, maybe his first public sneeze like that?

When he gets home, Tony tries to take Steve’s phone because he doesn’t want Steve to see the new trending hashtag on Twitter which is “GodBlessAmerica” and some people trying to be funny about it, maybe posting the video with patriotic music edited in. Maybe Steve does find out and Tony shows Steve a sneeze compilation of himself online or something that people did relating to Tony’s sneeze to help him feel less embarrassed/make him laugh?

This is such a sweet concept! And nothing like anything I’ve written before, I don’t think, so I hope this is okay. Please accept 4k of shy, sick Steve and Tony being the sweetest... as usual :)

Steve presses his knuckle to his nose for the 100th time today. The cold he had caught a few days ago seems to have hit its peak, because ever since he woke up this morning, his nose has had that warm, buzzing feeling to it that just never fades.

“You ready, Steve?” Tony asks and puts a steadying hand on the small of the taller man’s back.

“Y-yeah,” Steve manages and sniffles when his nose quivers. “Ready to get it over with,” he amends and Tony offers him a sympathetic smile.

“Last one for today.”

Steve nods and sighs deeply. “Last one,” he echoes

———

Steve wants to pay attention, he really does. Tony is speaking, and Steve loves listening to his boyfriend’s voice, even if all he’s doing is making quips and witty remarks at the interviewers’ questions. Okay, especially when he’s making quips and witty remarks at the interviewers’ questions.

But he just doesn’t have the energy today. He feels his eyes threatening to slip shut at any minute, and he probably would have drifted off at some point if it wasn’t for the slight tingle in the back of his nose.

He swipes his index finger against his septum, then holds it there when he’s afraid the tickle will blossom into something more. It doesn’t though, and instead he exhales slowly and gives his head a brief shake.

It happens another three times. The tickle is right on the verge of turning into sneezes, but Steve is famously stubborn, and by the power of sheer will and all the focus he can muster, he fights it off.

That is until he is startled by someone nudging his shoulder. “Steve.”

His head snaps up to see Natasha cocking her head at him. He looks around, confused, then smiles sheepishly when he notices a blonde reporter who’s looking at him with an expectant expression. “Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat, cheeks turning pink, “Could you repeat that?”

She smiles overly sweetly at him, and Steve tries not to think about how much he hates these things, hates how arranged and phony they are.

“Of course. Captain, you’ve been the leader of the Avengers since its origin...”

The blonde woman continues speaking, but Steve just hears her voice trail off into silence. He keeps his eyes on her, though, for as long as he can before his vision begins to blur as well. He clenches his jaw and holds his breath, trying to resist the urge to rub at his nose to stop the building itch from blooming.

He can see her lips moving through the tears that are accumulating in his eyes, but he hears nothing but white noise and then his own sudden, desperate gasp.

In the very last second, he manages to bring his fist to his face and move a little back in his seat to turn away from the crowd.

“ng’tCHh! h-H’tsngshh!”

The first sneeze is almost completely silent, but stifling it just sends a throb through his nose, and although he tries his hardest he can’t fully hold back the second one.

When he turns back, everyone has gone silent. A few people, including Natasha who’s next to him, as well as the reporter, bless him, and he feels the heat creep up his neck.

“Sorry, uh, excuse me,” he says and touches his nose gingerly, then rubs his neck. “You were saying?”

“Right,” the blonde continues. “As the leader of the Avengers, do you feel more responsible—“

“huh’TCHushh! uhhCHUSH!” A second round of sneezes catches him off guard, and he barely gets a chance to catch them in the  crook of his elbow, body jerking with the sneezes.

Next to him, Natasha squeezes his knee and whispers a blessing that Steve ignores as he quickly turns back to the reporter, acting as if nothing had happened. The flush spreading all over his face from embarrassment didn’t signal the same thing, though.

The reporter smiles tightly before continuing. “—do you feel more responsible for all the damage your team has caused?”

“The purpose of the Avengers is to make the world a safer place. With our job, we try to save as many lives as possible. Unfortunately— snf! Unfortunately, that doesn’t m-mean everybody,” Steve says and touches his nose quickly when he feels a slight tickle beginning to form. “I strongly believe that without the Avengers’ interference the number of casualties would have been significantly higher—“

“What our good Captain here means to say is that without us, you’d all be toast,” Tony suddenly cuts in, earning laughter from the audience and flashes the crowd of reporters a blinding smile. Then, while the chuckles die down, Tony glances quickly over at Steve and smiles again, but it’s softer and way more real. “Okay, next question,” Tony says, turning back to the reporters.

Steve can’t help but let out a sigh of relief when the next question is directed to Natasha, happy that the attention is on anyone but him.

He ducks his head to rub his nose against his knuckles and give a few quiet coughs. When he looks back up, he catches Tony looking at him with a concerned expression, cocking his head to the side.

You okay? he reads Tony’s lips. He nods weakly and smiles shyly back. He then averts his gaze from Tony, knowing that if there’s one thing that could distract him from keeping himself together, it would be Tony.

The rest of the press conference is a blur, really. Steve avoids answering anymore questions thanks to Tony and Natasha quickly taking over whenever he was supposed to answer. Instead, he sits back in his chair, pinching off a tickle every once in a while.

When Steve walks off the stage, Tony is waiting for him by the door, placing a hand on the small of Steve’s back when they walk through. “You alright?” he asks quietly.

Steve is about to nod, open his mouth a say that he is, but he ends up sighing instead. “I don’t know... I made a complete fool out of myself out there,” he says and bites his lip nervously.

“No you didn’t. No one’s going to think anything of it, Steve,” Tony reassures and kisses Steve’s shoulder when Steve looks dubiously at him. “C’mon, let’s grab something to eat and then head home. There’s this diner a couple of blocks away. It’s small, but there’s a table seated away from all the rest. We can sit in private...”

“Sounds perfect.”

———

Like Tony said, the diner is small, but it’s cosy and warm and Steve welcomes anything that makes him feel less like he’s turning into a human popsicle again. Steve scoots into the small booth, and Tony sits on the opposite side of the table.

It’s Tony who orders, a sandwich for each of them and a bowl of chicken noodle soup for Steve as well.

“Soup too?” Steve asks, his voice grateful and eyes soft.

“Sick person essential,” Tony shrugs and reaches over the table to grab both of Steve’s hands in his own, brushing a thumb over Steve’s knuckles. “Bless you?” he asks when Steve lets go with one hand and opts for few napkins from the box on the table.

Steve nods, eyes fluttering shut, and pulls his other hand away as well to cup the napkin firmly over his nose and mouth.

“heh’CHmmphh! utschmphh!” The sound of the sneezes is muffled by the napkins, but the way Steve’s body shudders is indication of just how strong they were and how tired he must be.

“Bless you, honey,” Tony says again. “You look about ready to drop. I’ll text Happy, tell him to pick us up here in 30,” he adds when Steve shrugs shyly.

He pulls his phone out, but something in his expression changes. His brows furrow and his lips turn into a thin, tense line.

“Everything okay?” Steve ask worriedly.

“What? Oh. Oh, yeah, all good,” Tony says dismissively and slides his phone back into his pocket. “Look, food’s here!”

———

“How about a phone-free night?” Tony suggests as they enter the penthouse and smiles a little tighter than the way he usually beams at Steve; the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunches up. Steve knows Tony’s smiles too well to be fooled by this oddly fabricated one, immediately growing suspicious.

“Uhh, sure,” Steve says hesitantly, wrinkling his forehead. “Why the no-phone rule, though?”

“No reason,” Tony shrugs a little too quickly, then draws in a deep breath and exhales slowly. Taking a step closer to Steve, he reaches for Steve’s hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Just don’t want any distractions tonight... no work, no social media. Just you and me and a box of tissues for your sniffles.”

Tony says the last bit in a low, fond voice that makes Steve’s heart clench with fondness and his cheek go a dusty shade of red, speculation suddenly all forgotten.

“Yeah?” Steve ask a little shyly, biting his lower lip and looks at Tony through his his lashes.

“Yeah,” Tony confirms. “And a cup of tea as well, that’ll feel good on your throat.” He lifts his hand to lace his fingers through Steve’s hair, and Steve melts into the touch, closing his eyes contentedly.

“You’re too good to me,” Steve murmurs, exhaustion seeping into his voice as he nuzzles his head against Tony’s hand like a cat seeking attention from its owner.

“Nothing could ever be too good for you, darling. Now, off to the shower,” Tony says firmly, but his tone is still gentle. Steve nods, and he starts to walk towards the bathroom, but Tony stops him. “Wait!” he exclaims. “Your phone.”

Steve looks down at his pocket where his phone sticks out, then pulls it out and hands it to Tony with a sigh and a shake of his head. “You’re ridiculous,” Steve chuckles.

“Mhm... you love it,” Tony says confidently and smirks as Steve rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “Now. Hop to it, Captain.”

———

Steve doesn’t even think about not having his phone on the bedside table when they snuggle up in bed. The warm steam from the shower had broken loose some of the congestion in his head, but now he’s sniffling uncontrollably, and even blowing his nose half a dozen times does nothing to stop his runny nose. It’s tiring, and he’s so ready to just doze off against Tony when he joins him under the covers with a fresh box of Kleenex and a cup of hot tea with lemon and honey.

“Thanks, snf!” Steve says and takes a sip of his tea. It does feel heavenly, like Tony said it would, calming the scratchiness he’s felt in his throat all day.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Tony kisses the top of Steve’s head and lays an arm over his shoulders, inviting Steve to cuddle in close while he scrolls through their watchlist on Netflix.

By the time they’ve picked a movie, Steve has finished his tea and is resting in head on Tony’s chest, already half-sleep. Tony still has his arm wrapped protectively around the larger man, and his cheek has come to lean against Steve’s forehead. It’s comfortable and safe, and even though it’s somewhat new to them, being together and all, it feels familiar, like it’s always been this way.

Within 10 minutes of the movie, Steve is snoring softly from trying to breathe through his stuffy nose, and Tony is not far behind him. His own eyes have slipped shut, and he asked Jarvis to turn off the lights as soon as Steve’s breaths had evened out so he could let himself fall asleep.

———

They eat breakfast in the communal kitchen the next morning, making easy conversation over two plates of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, coffee for Tony, and ginger tea for Steve.

He’s feeling a little better today, less like his head is stuffed with cotton and more like there’s just a faint sort of pressure on his sinuses. His throat feels better, too, and Steve thinks it must be the combination of a good night’s sleep and all the tea Tony’s made him drink over the last couple of days since he started coming down with his cold.

He’s still very sniffly, though, and he sneezes about seven or eight times from the time they wake up ‘till they’ve eaten their breakfast, Tony blessing him each time, sometimes following up with a sweet term of endearment or a quick kiss pressed to his cheek or hand.

They’re about to load the dishwater when Clint enters the kitchen, seemingly in a good mood, if the way his face is lit up is anything to go by. “Morning, lovebirds,” he says as he pours himself some coffee from the pot. “You feeling any better today, Cap?” he asks and takes a sip from the mug.

“I am, thanks,” Steve says, happy that Clint cared to ask. He quickly furrows his brows, though, because how would Clint know he had been sick? “How do you— weren’t you on a mission this past week?” Steve asks confusedly. He hadn’t been at the press conference yesterday, and he’d already been gone for a few days when Steve started coming down with his cold.

“I was, yeah. Came back late last night.”

That just makes Steve even more confused. “Then— then how did you know I’ve been sick?”

Clint frowns at him, looking just as confused as Steve feels. “Haven’t you...” he trails off, seemingly stumped. “You’re all over-“

“All over our group chat,” Tony cuts in hurriedly, interrupting Clint. “I made a text chain to let the team know you were under the weather. ‘Be nice to Steve, he’s sick’ and that sort of stuff,” he laughs nervously, glancing between Steve, whose expression has softened slightly, and Clint who’s still gaping at him.

Tony widens his eyes and cock his head at Clint when Steve goes back to filling the dishwater, mouthing get out now that Steve’s not looking.

Clint catches on, or at least he gets the impression he should just leave, because he quickly turns on his heels, mug in hand and exits the room. “Well, have a nice day,” he calls over his shoulder when he walks through the door.

“That was... odd, don’t you think?” Steve says, closing the dishwater and leaning against the counter.

Tony shrugs. “It’s Barton,” he says simply, as if that would explain the strange encounter. It makes enough sense to Steve, at least, because he just mirrors Tony and shrugs as well.

“I guess you’re right. Do you still have my phone, by the way? I should check my emails,” he says, looking around the kitchen to see if Tony put in somewhere in here.

Tony stills for a second before stammering out a, “N-no! No... I think it’s in the living room, but, uh, maybe you should take a day off,” he splutters, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “You know, just to make sure you’re not working yourself too hard when you’re sick.”

Steve smiles at Tony’s concern. “I’m feeling a lot better, thanks to you, so I think I’ll be good to look through a couple emails.”

Tony swallows around nothing, then clears his throat. “Okay,” he mumbles. “If you’re sure. Just... maybe you should stay off social media today. I think it’s best to give yourself a break from all that, especially when you’re still just getting better.” Tony winces at how illogical that sounded, and Steve picks up on it, too, because the frown on his face has returned and he look just as perplexed as before, if not more.

After a couple of seconds of uneasy silence, Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tony, what is going on? Why is everyone acting to weird?” He might be a pretty face and all, but Steve isn’t stupid. He can tell when something’s off, even if he subconsciously tries to ignore it.

Tony holds his breath for a moment, then exhales defeatedly and pulls out his phone. “You’re gonna hate this,” he mutters under his breath and hands the device to Steve, who takes a look at the screen.

Aww, poor Steve, he looks so tired and cute when he’s all sick and sneezy #GodBlessAmerica

I never thought I’d call a sneeze hot, but damn, the way cap flexed his bicep when he sneezed was h a w t!! #GodBlessAmerica

I thought he couldn’t get sick anymore? #GodBlessAmerica

Okay, but captain america sneezing is actually adorable #GodBlessAmerica

Steve lets out a noise that sounded like a mix between a frustrated groan and a pained whimper. So apparently he’s now a number one trending topic on Twitter… great.

He slides the phone onto the kitchen counter, the screen facing downwards so he couldn’t see Tony’s Twitter-feed. Burrowing his face in his hands, he sighs fretfully. “Why?” he mumbles, the sound muffled by his palms. “Why? This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

When he emerges from hiding his face, he pouts, then sniffles when a warm, tingling sensation starts at the back of his nose. He scrunches up his entire face in an attempt to fight off the sneeze, but it’s useless.

Tony looks at him fondly and pats his back when he raises his arm to catch a rush of sneezes.

“huh’UTSSchhh! ehhIIShhoo! uhTSC’uhh!“

He keeps his nose and mouth covered for a few seconds, waiting to see if the lingering itch will actually turn into anything more than that. It doesn’t, not right away at least, and instead he just snuffles into the soft material of his hoodie. “Ugh... sorry, I’mb such a mbess.”

The sneezes seem to have re-established the congestion, and Steve fumbles with the tissue box that’s in the countertop, pulling out a couple.

“Bless you,” Tony says warmly. “You’re just a little sick, honey.”

“A sick mess, then,” Steve says into the tissue, and he looks a little bashful when he has to blow his nose, turning away from Tony.

Tony leans in to press a kiss to Steve’s shoulder before reaching around him to grab his phone. Unlocking it, he reopens Twitter and starts scrolling. He doesn’t get to read more than a few tweets before Steve’s large hand covers the screen.

“Don’t look at that,” he whines. “It’s horrible.” Steve knows he sounds petulant and childish, but he’s too annoyed to care.

Tony chuckles, though, which makes him even more annoyed, and Steve huffs, not understanding why Tony is suddenly laughing at him. When Tony catches Steve’s glare, he just smiles.

“They’re not so bad,” Tony shrugs. Steve rolls his eyes and start to pull away. “Hey, they could’ve been a lot worse. Most of these are either just people being concerned or saying how cute you look, which I wholeheartedly agree with.”

Steve hesitantly removes his hand and peeks over Tony’s shoulder as he continues going through the trending topic.

Most them are actually quite sweet, Steve has to admit, and he even finds himself smiling at a few of them.

“See, that’s cute,” Tony says, pointing to a tweet that reads,

I hope our precious bean remembers to take care of himself and get plenty of rest and drink lots of tea. @tonystark pls give @captsteverogers all the cuddles! #GodBlessAmerica

Steve hums, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as he nuzzles his nose into Tony’s hair. Then a video pops into view, and Tony scrolls past it, but Steve is curious and asks Tony to go back up.

“What’s that?” he points to the video.

Tony taps on it, and footage of Steve at the press conference yesterday pops up. The camera is zoomed in on him, and Steve immediately recognizes the scene.

At first it’s just the nose rubbing and consistent throat-clearing, but 20 seconds into the video, though, a familiar melody starts playing in the background, and Steve sighs. He’s so tired of hearing Star Spangled Man being played in any situation let alone this one. The rest of the recording basically just shows all of Steve’s sneezes, the almost-sneezes, and coughs with the underlying music, and that’s really all Steve remembers, because he wants to pretend he never saw that video as soon as it’s over.

“I know I was just starting to accept this but I take it back. This is horrible,” Steve groans. He tries to take the phone out of Tonys hand, and he would probably delete the Twitter-app if he got the chance to do so.

Tony clutches it to his chest, though, and shakes his head at Steve. “Look, I know you think this sucks, I thought so, too, the first time. But come on, Steve, it’s funny,” he claims, smiling while saying it. “Besides, look at all your fans! They adore you, they just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“What do you mean you thought so too?”

“Uh, sorry—?” Tony blinks at Steve, brow furrowed.

“You said you thought it sucked the first time too. What did you mean by that?”

Tony exhales, laughs a little, at turns to look into Steve’s eyes. “You think none of my sneezes have been caught on camera?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

Steve doesn’t know how to answer. He just looks blankly at Tony, like he’s still not quite sure what Tony’s trying to say.

“There are numerous compilation videos of me sneezing on the internet,” the brunette explains. “Interviews, press conferences, talk shows, even just videos of me walking down the street. But that’s what you get for being a public figure. They sometimes catch you at the worst moments. God, the amount of content they must have of me sneezing through all of allergy season would be truly astonishing—“

Steve chuckles a little, tightening his arms around Tony.

“— and yeah, it’s a little embarrassing at first, but looking back on it, it’s actually quite funny.”

“I really don’t see how you can find that funny, babe,” Steve says, smiling and shaking his head at Tony.

Tony seems to take that as a challenge and quickly goes to YouTube, typing something into the search bar.

“Tony, I don’t—“ Steve doesn’t accept the phone when Tony tries to hand it to him.

“Come on, Steve, just watch it.”

Steve sighs and takes the phone. The video is about 2 and a half minutes long and just like Tony had said, there’re videos of him sneezing in a variety of different settings: some at a talk show Steve can’t remember the name of, some at a some sort of conference, a couple of Tony walking through Central Park. There is even one of him right after a battle, still wearing the Iron Man armour but with his helmet off.

“They’re different now,” Steve comments when the video ends.

“Sorry?” Tony says, not understanding what Steve meant. “What’s different?”

Steve’s lips quirk upwards. “Your sneezes. They’re different. Now you always lean away from however you’re talking to, and you always excuse yourself beforehand...” Steve smiles bashfully, realizing he knows all these small details about Tony that are so obscure but so clear in Steve’s mind.

Tony smiles too, probably realizing the same thing. “That kinda sounds like someone I know... I think you’re rubbing off on me, Rogers,” he says and stands on his tiptoes to reach Steve’s cheek with his lips.

Steve leans into the soft touch of warmth and returns the gesture with a kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“I kinda get what you meant about it being cute when I sneeze, though” Steve mumbles into Tony’s hair after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... You looked adorable in that video, with your face all scrunched up like that.”

That makes Tony laugh, makes his eyes gleam and crinkle slightly at the corners. Then Tony’s eyes draw away from Steve’s and move further down his face until his gaze reaches the pink tip of Steve’s nose. With a mischievous look, he leans up to place a delicate peck right on the centre of it. His lips barely touch Steve before his nose twitches and he has to duck his head into his shoulder.

“hehhIIssh! tchSH!”

Wasting no time, Tony takes Steve’s face in both of his hands, pulling him down into a deep, eager kiss before mumbling against Steve’s lips, “God bless America.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - My love rival older brother (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (我的情敌哥哥) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say

> my love rival older brother ♡

> the victim who disappeared

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

I have a really, really strong rival in love. His name is Lucien.

All the girls in class like him, including Nana. I initially thought she would be different from other girls, but I didn’t expect that she’d start talking about becoming Lucien’s bride all day long lately.

Their starry-eyed infatuation leaves me feeling rather confused and revolted. Isn’t he just a guy who’s slightly taller than I am, a little more dashing than I am, and a little more intelligent than I am right now? When I grow up, I can definitely surpass him.

I’m not saying this groundlessly - the Auntie from the canteen said it. She would secretly give me an extra fruit candy whenever she hears me complain, and will say, “Xiao Kai is still growing. As long as you eat properly, there will be a day when you’ll be even taller and more dashing than Professor Lucien!”

I really wish the girls in my class could be as rational as Auntie Zhang, instead of waking up early to squeeze in front of the mirror to apply make-up when they find out Lucien would be coming.

Under normal circumstances, I’d be the one tying the bow atop Nana’s hair. If I were to acknowledge that I’m the second best in tying bows, no one would dare to acknowledge that they’re the first.

However, ever since Lucien helped Nana tie her hair once, she started getting dissatisfied, commenting that my tying didn’t look good, and would deliberately make things difficult for me. She would wait for that man, who comes once every half a month, to help her tie it. 

That man appears even fewer times than the number of Power Rangers episodes shown on TV over the weekends. But his popularity among the female students is incredibly high. Every time he arrives, he tells us stories, show us the Cat’s Cradle, occasionally adds a small science lesson, performs little magic tricks, and things like that. 

The girls don’t seem to care about what Lucien talks about. After all, I can tell how the words “Lack of Understanding” are written across their faces when they’re listening to the class.

He, on the other hand, teaches very seriously, and explains the originally plain and simple knowledge of those books even more plainly and simply. I don’t know if it counts as a hobby, but the girls seem especially keen on hearing him explain the same learning point three times in different ways.

He’ll be visiting us again tomorrow, and I’ve decided that this time, he’s not going to steal my thunder.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

As usual, the girls get up early to welcome Lucien - including Nana.

What they weren’t expecting was for Lucien to bring a pretty-looking Sister along with him. The both of them are walking very closely, slightly different from people who were brought over as accompanying teachers.

“I know what’s going on. This Big Sister is Brother Lucien’s girlfriend!”

The boys immediately start hollering along with me, while the girls engage in a discussion. Big Sister is at the side, frantically shaking her head in denial. But Lucien just smiles, crinkling his eyes at her. Anyone with clear eyesight can tell that he’s interested in her.

“What nonsense! I’m Brother Lucien’s bride!”

“That’s right, that’s right! Brother Lucien has given me candy before!”

“Everyone received a piece of candy. But I have a brush that Brother Lucien rewarded me with!”

Everybody starts talking, and the scene becomes chaotic, just as I expected. Lucien doesn’t seem affected. Just like what the adults often say, he’s “A Master of Love.”

While everyone is still busy with their fervent discussion, he says something into Big Sister’s ear, without a change in his expression. The red hue on Big Sister’s face turns redder. Even without much thinking involved, one can already tell that he must have said something embarrassing. 

Nana seems to have noticed Lucien’s action, and starts bawling. Thinking that this is a great opportunity for her to let go of Lucien, I tag on a sentence triumphantly. “There’s no use in crying. You’re no longer Brother Lucien’s wife.”

This just makes Nana cry even more fiercely, and her entire face gets red and swollen.

Seeing how upset she is, I feel a twinge of guilt. Thinking that softening my heart at this moment would be equivalent to a loss, I take out the handkerchief I’ve been gripping tightly in my pocket to coax her.

I didn’t expect that Lucien would act before I could. Although he was at Big Sister’s side just a second ago, he immediately moves over to Nana’s side in the next moment. In his hand, he even has a little flower hair tie.

“Here, don’t cry. Nana’s such a cute girl. Next time, there will definitely be many boys who will compete to marry you.” After tying the flower onto her hair, Lucien pats her head.

As though an ‘off’ switch has been clicked, Nana, who was weeping earlier, stops crying instantly, breaking into a smile.

Watching how she has once again revealed a smile to this man - one she has never shown me even half of, I really can’t stand it. In my heart, I decide to win the next round!

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Perhaps due to Big Sister’s request, Lucien is attending the PE class with us for once.

Judging by how gentle and frail he looks, I think this is a great opportunity to reverse the impression Nana has of me.

The regretful thing is, my luck in drawing lots remains as poor as always. I end up drawing a lot which puts me in the same group as Big Sister. And our opponents happen to be Nana and Lucien.

Looking at how Nana is so excited to be holding Lucien’s hand to the point where she’s jumping three feet into the air, I grit my teeth silently, drawing up a plan for the following battle.

Before the competition, I pull on Big Sister’s hand, standing on tip toes as I  tell her the overall strategy for the competition. Surprisingly, Big Sister seems eager, which makes me heave a sigh of relief.

If she were another Lucien enthusiast, my “Concentrate All The Firepower on Lucien's Face” battle proposal would have definitely failed before it could be carried out.

Prior to the official start of the competition, I grip Big Sister’s hand tightly, stating our grand goal. “Pretty Sister, we must definitely win this competition!”

With a blow of the whistle, the two of us focus our firepower on Lucien as we whack the balls. Big Sister is even more cooperative than I expected. But I didn’t expect that Lucien had actually been keeping his abilities hidden. His ability at sports is shockingly good.

He’s as agile as a leaping tiger, dodging and jumping with his long legs. Although we go all out to throw the little balls, not even one hits him. Just as the battle enters its most intense juncture, Big Sister gets carelessly struck by a ball that Nana throws, and has to leave the court regretfully.

At this moment, I had miscalculated and underestimated the battle between women. But this didn’t mean that the showdown between Lucien and I would end.

Standing by myself in the court while carrying the determination of two people, I swing my arm and wave the small ball in my hand. Increasing the speed of the ball would inevitably cause my accuracy to deteriorate. But I didn’t expect for my hand would slip, sending the small ball in Nana’s direction.

“Nana, be careful!”

Although warning your opponent in a competition is an absolute taboo, I couldn’t care less given the circumstances. Poor Nana is scared frozen to the spot as the small ball flies towards her. In the meantime, Lucien rushes over to block it from the other side of the court.

“Nana, are you all right?” 

“Mm, I’m fine. But Brother Lucien has been hit by the ball. Does it hurt a lot... Let Nana blow on it for you. Once I blow on it, the pain will fly away!” While Nana says this, she’s so frantic that she’s on the verge of tears. It’s as though she was the one hit by the ball instead.

“Mm, I’ll have to trouble Nana then.” Lucien places his arm before Nana, letting her hold it carefully and blow on it for a very long time before he leaves the court.

Although Nana is still on the field, her heart has long since ran off with Lucien. When she sees Lucien bringing Big Sister out of the sports hall, she loses her will to fight even more. As though she’s venting her anger, she smashes the ball onto the floor. “I’m not playing anymore. You’ve won!”

When faced with this competition, which I won for no reason, my heart doesn’t feel anything...

I’m thinking - what kind of evidence must I obtain about Lucien before Nana would completely give up on him?

-

[ Chapter Four ]

At noon, everyone has returned to the dormitories for their afternoon rest. But I’m still burdened with an incomplete task, and am unable to sleep!

Secretively, I sneak out of the dormitory when the teacher-on-duty dozes off, looking for Lucien everywhere.

I don’t see any traces of Lucien or Big Sister at the lakeside, the tiny forest, and all the locations suitable to bring a girlfriend to. Without harbouring any hopes, I return to the classroom. I didn't think that i’d discover something unexpected:

I see both my targets, who have completely lost their fighting spirit, laying down on the table, looking as though they’re asleep.

In order to capture such an image which harnesses historical value, I had specially taken the phone the teacher-on-duty had left on the table secretly before heading out. Since what one says isn’t necessarily true, I have to use real evidence to enable Nana to give up on Lucien.

Carefully, I tap on the camera function. After pointing it towards Lucien and Big Sister, I capture a photograph of their intimate moment with a “ka cha”.

Wait a minute, why is there a “ka cha”?!

I frantically fiddle with the phone, but accidentally tap the capture function several more times. The sound of “ka cha”s fills the air. Before I can find the cause of it, Lucien has already woken up.

I meet Lucien’s eyes awkwardly, thinking in my heart that this man was obviously just pretending to be asleep. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been roused awake by such a soft sound!

He places a finger in front of his lips to do a “no sound” gesture, then takes the phone in my hand, flipping through the substantial evidence I had painstakingly captured earlier.

Just when I thought the photographs would be destroyed without a trace, Lucien returns the phone to me, and speaks in a soft voice. “Mm, your photography skills aren’t bad. But this phone - isn’t it Teacher Liu’s?”

In order to protect this evidence with my life, I have no choice but to tell a tiny lie. “T-that’s because I behaved very well today! Teacher rewarded me by letting me play with it!”

“Take a look. Sister is very tired too. If you leave obediently right now, I can give you another reward.”

“Okay! If you can honestly answer a question I have, I’ll leave immediately!” I didn’t expect that there’d come a day where I’d be able to exchange conditions with Lucien. With such a great opportunity, of course I have to ask him something especially important.

“Mm, go on.”

“What’s your view on Nana?” To me, this is an extremely important question.

“She’s a very obedient little girl. And let me tell you a small secret. As compared to pink, she likes lemon yellow even more.”

Lemon yellow.

I remember this quietly in my heart, and recall how Nana does indeed like collecting small, lemon yellow objects. I originally thought she cherished them so much because they were things Lucien gave to her.

As the saying goes, opportunity only knocks once. Seeing that Big Sister wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, I grasp at the chance to push on in the flush of victory. “In that case, is Big Sister your girlfriend?”

But Lucien is an astute man. He doesn’t let anyone take advantage of him. “Didn't we agree that it’d only be one question?”

Hmph, fine. Anyway, I already know that Nana likes lemon yellow, so I’ve got nothing else to fear!

With such a thought in mind, I grip the phone and leave the classroom with huge strides.

When I turn my head once more, Lucien is once again pretending to be asleep next to Big Sister.

[secretshinigami]

Don't mess with an annoyed L

Author: @skaelds

For: @lightsturtleneck

Pairings/Characters: Light/L

Rating/Warnings: K/K+

Prompt: Domestic Lawlight

Author’s notes: Heyy ! This was very fun to write, i hope it’s qualified as a Domestic Lawlight, and i hope it will please you :D L’s Pov here you go <3

- - - - - - - - - - – - - - - - - - - - – - - - - - - - - - 

L Lawliet prided himself on being a patient person. It was something he had to learn over the years, to know how to calm his ardour in order to achieve his goal at the right moment, to know how to bide his time. The methods of The Anger Trap: Free Yourself had taught him how to temper his frustration, how to lower his tension and how to avoid anger-related symptoms such as chest tightness or tachycardia.

He remembered several times when waiting had been the key to his success, when victory meant hours spent crouching behind a screen watching the slightest change in attitude. A treacherous whisper of his mind whispered the name of Light Yagami. L promptly ignored it.

A patient person, thus.

Therefore, not very quick to lose control over his nerves.

That is why his smile didn’t tighten on his lips, his eyelids didn’t twitch and he didn’t take a breath intended to bring down his tension. None of that. No. And anyone who would say otherwise would be an odious liar.

“I thought Light-kun had given up his idea of murdering me in cold blood. I note this betrayal with real disappointment. When you confessed to me that you had changed and no longer wanted to crush the hearts of criminals between your chips-covered fingers, I thought your madness was over. Sadly, I realise that this is not the case. I am on the verge of death, Light-kun, and my death will be blamed on you. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

“Shut up and chop.”

“Your coldness hurts me.”

“No, that’s just the impact of the weather. And the current temperature of -10 degrees. And probably the fact that you’re not wearing gloves when I insisted for twenty minutes that you put them on.”

“The analogy is completely unfounded. There is no correlation between the temperature and the state of my heart. Who is hurt, I emphasize. Broken into a thousand shards of glass. Crumbled. Set on fire.”

“Oh damn it, L, it is you I’m going to set on fire if you don’t stop complaining!”

Light straightened up suddenly, throwing his axe vigorously into the snow - ruffled hair, long caramel-coloured strands sticking to the soaked face, reddened by irritation and effort. Two eyes that shot him with force - even made him check to see if he had not just taken two bullets. The tip of his nose was reddened by the cold, gleaming on his face. L was taken by a sudden urge to cross the few steps that separated them and to kiss this angry face, to make the frown that was spoiling the beauty of the face disappear.

Who did he think he was fooling? As if the beauty of the other could be spoiled by something as trivial as irritation. On the contrary, seeing irises inflamed with anger aroused a tingling in his stomach that he refused to identify.

L crossed his arms on his chest, his own axe falling to the ground.

“The muscles of my upper body are less developed than those of my lower body, Light-kun. It’s a torture” he complained, sulking expression on his face. “And I’m not the one who decreed that it was imperative to chop down our own tree. Watari was quite willing to give us one. With all the characteristics you were looking for.”

Light rolled her eyes. Passed a hand through his hair, dislodging some snow dust.

“It’s a tradition,” he insisted. “You can understand, you’re the one who insisted on coming to spend Christmas at the Wammy House. Saying that it was an obligation and that you wouldn’t neglect it.”

“The Wammy has a perfectly satisfactory tree.”

“L !”

“I love you too.”

Pushed sigh with a mixture of exasperation and affection. He shook his head, caused flakes to rain down. The cold crept up his neck, down his sleeves, over his ankles - came to lay his frozen hand on him and mark his territory. Even though his hands were in his pockets and a heavy scarf was wrapped around his neck as if to strangle him, he felt the icy air pressing his lips to his skin. He shivered - they might have to amputate his toes. Terrible notion, how could he slide them over Light’s warm skin at night? He deliberately omitted the fact that this act was always followed by a yelp from Light, a startled awakening and usually a punch that would make him fall out of bed.

Light was particularly susceptible.

“But I am cold.” A real complaint, camouflaged in a childish mumble. Annoyed. He had followed Light willy-nilly in the winter cold, had rushed into the forest with him, but they had been sawing the tree trunk down for more than forty minutes - or almost - without the damn tree ever collapsing. L would have almost scribbled Abies balsamea in the Death Note by pure spirit of revenge. “I’m about to lose my fingers.”

“That’s a shame.”

“ Be careful, Light-kun forgot what empathy is all about again.”

Light shook his head once more - shaking in a canine manner - before taking a few steps forward, axe forsaken, and a slight, almost amused grin on his lips. He almost retreated backwards by reflex, preferred to take his hands out of his pockets and hold them out to Light, and was immediately assaulted by a warm and perhaps at least a bit empathetic mass.

Lips pressed against the icy skin on his neck - he shivered upon the contact, tightened his grip around Light. Light smiled against his neck, put another kiss on it, his own hands wrapped around L’s waist. “So you’re looking for a cure against the frost?”

Ecstatic nod, ready to close his eyes and-

PAF!

The universe fell under a cloud of white, an icy envelope wrapped around him like a predator, leaving him in shock. A snow avalanche, creeping into his neck, waist, ears, wrists, ankles - even swallowing a handful of it, his eyelashes covered with frosted crystals. Time froze for a moment, leaving him lying on the ground, too shocked to reflect on Light’s betrayal - the only indication of his survival testified by the regular blinking of his eyelids.

A simply awful laugh tore his eardrums. Those that came from the back of the throat, resounded like thirty bulls charging towards him, reflecting all the petty amusement and cunning of his host. L felt betrayed.

What seemed like an eternity later, he stood up slowly, one elbow leaning against the snow.

Threw an absolutely polar glance at Light.

“Did anyone ever told you you had a goat’s laugh?”

The hiccups of laughter redoubled.

L touched the snow next to him, leaned a second elbow to stand up. “I hope you know that I never leave a blow unanswered, Light-kun, you’ve just signed your death warrant.”

Tears were now streaming down Light’s face. Tears of laughter, for sure, which would soon turn into tears of suffering if he was allowed to give his opinion. He stood up on his legs hesitantly - shaking himself to make the snow fall, making it slide further down his neck. L restrained a relatively virile yelp, stood there for a few seconds - a perfect representation of a forest gremlin. Or the Yeti. Covered with snow as he was, the resemblance must have been striking.

His resolution taken, he bent down, gathered the snow into a compact ball and rushed towards Light - taking him by surprise. The other stumbled back, tripped over the handle of L’s axe, flapped his hands like a chick thrown from the nest before tipping over on his backside. In a second, L was on top of him - drove the snowball into his coat’s neckline.

Light shrieked - grabbing L’s hands to stop him from continuing. L pulled to get out of the grip, lost his balance for a few seconds-

Collapsed next to Light.

A few seconds passed in total silence, only the sound of their breaths breaking the silence before they exchanged a glance - L felt his lips stretch in spite of himself, resisted valiantly before giving in and joining Light in his burst of laughter. Breathless, they tried to catch their breath, each new glance at the other finishing them off again.

Light eventually cut himself as best he could, stretching out one arm to wrap it around L.

“I may have a goat’s laughter but I can still stand on my feet. Do you want a cane, old man?”

Slap addressed with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. L was covered in snow, infiltrated down to every pore of his skin, had just tried to cut down a pine tree for a good forty minutes and had just been tackled like a feverish rugby player on the ground. In short, he was soaked, exhausted and probably in hypoglycemia

From an objective point of view, therefore, he was absolutely not responsible for his own actions.

That is why he smiled slightly at Light Yagami, interlaced their fingers with his left hand - the one where Light was wearing his wedding ring - and quickly kissed him on the cheek. Slipped his other hand through the melted caramel-coloured hair - and it reminded him of the caramel-filled cookies waiting for them in their kitchen, what a wonderful idea - by tightening his fingers on the strands.

And slammed Light Yagami’s head roughly into the snow.

Justice was always delivering its judgment.

Later, when they returned to the Wammy House, the fire crackling in the fireplace and their hands wrapped around a nice hot chocolate, L put his cup on the table and climbed up to sit next to Light.

“The children told me that they love the tree initiative. They have even started to decorate it” grinned Light with a satisfied smirk. That of the cat who had devoured the canary and had just blamed the dog.

L gave him one of his own smiles.

“Maybe I could make it up to you in some special way…”

“Perhaps you could…”

He leaned over to Light- interrupted suddenly by a shrill ringing of the telephone. Annoyed grimace, device grabbed with fingertips to refuse the call, turning off the object and throwing it across the raised eyebrow of Light, who split into a new smile before putting down his cup and swinging L onto the couch.

Ah. A thought crossed his mind as Light’s lips rested on his skin-

Maybe he wasn’t that patient in the end.

[thought-42]

An untitled Essek ficlet

1100 words, Essek, Caleb, a random asshole teenager

(brief unintentional misgendering, well-intentioned ableism, and absolutely not well-intentioned fantasy racism)

Set a couple years into the future of the Modern au, though it's generic enough that you don't need to know anything beyond 'modern au'.

"Uhh, Miss?"

Essek is checking his mail --after an exceedingly long day at work, followed by an equally extended dinner with his brother and Beauregard-- performing a precarious balancing act of keys and crutches and envelopes. He had thought the lobby of his building was empty, so when the halfling teenager wearing brand name jeans and a polo calls out, he is startled, but also assumes he has missed more than one person. And yet, no second voice responds.

"Sorry, uhh, miss?" the child calls out again, and Essek hears the soft click of his dress shoes as he comes up behind him. Essek's primary emotion, at first, is confusion. The idea that the boy is talking to him is entirely illogical. Ridiculous, his brain supplies, once he's had a moment to process. Slowly, giving plenty of time for the situation to resolve itself without his participation, he turns to look down at the boy.

"Hi, you, uhh, dropped your... card?"

He's holding out Essek's university ID between two fingers, like he's afraid to make too much contact. Or like he thinks Essek is going to snatch it from his hand with his teeth, an uncharitable part of his mind that sounds very much like his mother offers.

"...thank you," says Essek, politely, nudging the mailbox closed and locking it.

"I can, uhh, here, I can take it to the elevators for you? Do you need help?"

Essek grits his teeth and reaches behind his back to shove the keys haphazardly back into his bag. One hand thus freed, he shifts his weight and holds his hand out as far as he can, palm up pointedly. "I'm quite alright," he says.

The boy winces, and glances up at Essek's hand, then at his face, then at the security camera above them. "I'm happy to..." He trails off, frowning, likely realizing there is no way for his patronizing desire to do a "good deed" to manifest simultaneously with his racism.

Essek wiggles his fingers pointedly. "My ID, please," he says. It has been a very long day, and this child has clearly failed at internalizing any lessons on social graces his social status ought to have imparted.

He pushes the card into Essek's hand in a sudden jolt of movement, darting backwards as soon as he's done it and retreating to the leather sofa by the doors where he pulls out his phone but continues to watch Essek blatantly.

The lobby of the apartment building is grand and open, a wide expense of marble between the mailboxes and the elevators well-lit by stylish fixtures spaced evenly throughout the room. Essek clenches his jaw and makes his way across, painfully aware of the click and tap of his crutches with each step, the soft tinkle of his earrings. The boy is still watching him. The expanse of the lobby feels endless.

The elevator, of course, is not waiting for him. He jabs the button with the same hand that is holding his ID, and stands with his back determinedly to the boy, gaze fixed on the numbers as they count down. The lobby is utterly silent around them.

When the elevator comes, he rushes so quickly to get in that he almost trips on the edge of the door, which starts his internal Deirta Thelyss hissing again.

At dinner, Verin had braided his long hair back in a complicated style, with wine-red ribbons looped carefully throughout. He had rings on six fingers, claiming the opportunity to wear them was one of the best parts of being off-duty. Neither his brother nor Beauregard had paid it any notice when Essek had flicked his foldable crutches out of his wrist pocket after dinner instead of floating or walking lightly. The restaurant where they had had dinner had been at least one third filled with drow, with tieflings and goblins making up another third. No one had looked twice at them, and all three of them had ordered their meals in Undercommon for the convenience of not having to translate the menu. Even their conversation had been easy-- Beau only commented pointedly on the flaws of the military industrial complex twice; Verin had only mentioned their father once; Essek had only been unkind in his criticism of religion twice. Or three times. Nobody had walked out on the verge of tears or in a rage, which is a significant improvement on the last three times they had met.

Essek has had a good day. There is no reason the unspoken opinion of one meaningless child should alter that. And yet.

In the apartment, he hears music coming from Molly's room, and Frumpkin weaves around his ankles as soon as he steps inside, so Caleb must be present somewhere.

"You survived, well done," said wizard calls from the kitchen. Now that he's listening for it, Essek can hear the cheerful gurgle of the coffeemaker.

"I did, as I'm certain Beau has already informed you."

Essek toes off his shoes and sets his bag down, following the noise into the warm kitchen. Caleb is perched on a stool at the counter, an unfamiliar laptop set up in front of him, his hair an absolute disaster.

"I may have asked for her commentary, I admit," says Caleb. He spins on his stool and stands all in one easy movement, stepping into Essek's space and smiling down at him affectionately. "She has a lot of thoughts about your brother."

"I'm aware," says Essek. His tone is prickly but he's already tossing the stack of mail down on the counter and sliding one arm out of his crutch so he can lean into Caleb's chest as soon as the other man is close enough. Caleb loops an arm around him comfortably, and Essek has to resist the urge to rub his cheek against the soft knit of Caleb's sweater like a cat. Caleb's clothes are always soft, pleasing textures with style a secondary concern, and Essek will never stop finding it delightfully indulgent.

Caleb hums softly, and his other hand comes to rest against Essek's hair, smoothing it down and then cupping the back of his skull, pressing him closer. Essek lets more of his weight lean into Caleb, exhaling a breath that shakes slightly despite his best effort. Caleb tightens his hold, and for a terrible moment Essek fears he is going to ask what's wrong. But Caleb knows him better than that, or is perhaps simply as allergic to speaking of vulnerability as Essek is so he just rubs small circles at the small of his back, steady, even, repetitive. It may not calm Essek the way it does for Caleb, but it is oddly soothing nonetheless.

"I was going to stay the night, if that is ok with you?" Caleb says, softly.

Essek makes a pleased noise. "Yes," he says. "Yes. You should do that."

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 13

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and learns to be a person. And, amid all of that, confronts his past by helping others like him.

Content warnings: traumatised child, starvation (referenced), very brief hint of lifespan angst

Chapter summary: Caleb is good with kids. Clerics are good with Calebs.

Chapter notes: Chapter title is from An Act of Kindness by Bastille. Pardon the comma splice; it gave me a better vibe than anything else.

***

Chapter 13: Kindness is what you showed to me, it holds me 'til I ache

Much later, Caleb tucked Luc into bed. The boy had been dozing for some time now, and Caleb himself was exhausted. He and Essek retreated to the spare bedroom. The room wasn’t large, and therefore the bed took up most of the space, but it wasn’t the most cramped quarters the two of them had shared. It was warm, lived-in, and belonged to one of Caleb’s dearest friends in the world.

Caleb flung off his coat, tossing it onto the chair crammed in the corner of the bedroom. Essek hovered closer, deftly plucking the buttons of Caleb’s shirt until it opened. Essek kissed Caleb’s collarbone, and slid the shirt down his arms, tossing it onto the coat.

“Did I make you uncomfortable earlier?” Essek asked, slowly running his fingers across the reddish-brown hair on Caleb’s chest.

“No. I was surprised, is all.” And very tired, but he knew Essek was aware of that.

Essek kissed Caleb’s sternum, just below the meeting of his collar bones. “We can discuss this another time. I just want you to know I am not trying to… discard you.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

They undressed. If they had been alone, they probably would have just collapsed naked on the bed, but there was a child in the house who had no boundaries, so they drew on the last dregs of their energy to pull on nightshirts and climb under the covers.

Essek wanted to be the big spoon tonight, and Caleb indulged him. It was adorable, really, given Essek was significantly smaller than him and wound up looking like a humanoid backpack. But the soft, warm pressure of Essek’s body was soothing as always, and Caleb drifted asleep.

For a while.

Then, there was a soft tapping on the door. And then the hinges creaked. Essek was already sitting up, so Caleb lay there a moment longer.

“Luc,” said Essek. “Are you all right?”

The boy didn’t speak, but he did sniffle. Caleb dragged his pants off the chair and stepped into them. Then, even in the dark, he found Luc’s small form and knelt before him.

“What happened, liebling?”

In the light from the moon, and the permanent driftglobe in the hallway Caleb had Pumat make for the Brenattos as a housewarming gift, he could see Luc swipe tears from his cheeks. Then he held up his arms in the universal signal for carry me.

Caleb scooped Luc into his arms and stood, settling the boy’s weight on his hip. Luc buried his face in Caleb’s shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?” Essek asked, halfway out of bed.

“Nein. I’ll step into the hallway. You rest.”

Essek huffed at him, but climbed back into bed. Caleb took Luc into the hallway and shut the bedroom door. Out here, it was easier to see the tension through Luc’s tiny body. He had Caleb’s shirt tightly gripped in his fists.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Caleb asked softly. Luc nodded. “All right. Would you like to talk about it?” Luc shook his head. “All right. I will hang onto you for a while, until you can sleep again. Does that sound good?” Luc nodded.

Caleb normally tried not to dwell too much on the memories of his childhood in Blumenthal, especially when he was out of sorts, but he could recall a conversation his mother had with a woman who had asked her advice on putting her newborn to sleep. He could hear his mother’s voice, sweet and gentle towards the woman who was on the verge of exhausted tears. Una had told her to hold the baby and walk up and down the house, slowly, until he fell asleep. It was not a sure thing, but it could help.

So Caleb slowly paced up and down the hallway, rubbing Luc’s back. He swayed a little as he walked, like his mother had once done for him. Even when he was just old enough to remember. Just a little younger than Luc was now, as Caleb had started to remember things very young. Not with the same clarity as he did as an adult, but more than most children at that age.

After some time of wearing a path into the wooden floor, Luc’s grip on his shirt loosened a little. The boy settled into Caleb’s arms more comfortably.

“Uncle Caleb?” His voice was still thick with years.

“Ja, liebling?”

“Can you tell me the story of the cat prince again?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb had the story memorised in Zemnian and Common by now. For a long time, he had only known it in Zemnian because of the nights his mother and father had read it to him, over and over. Since reading it to Jester, however, he could tell it in Common almost as well. And he had told it to Luc several times before.

He continued to slowly pace as he told the tale, quietly into Luc’s ear. Luc relaxed by inches. Yeza poked his head out of his bedroom door and watched quietly. They barely made it through the reveal of the cat in his crown of golden leaves, before Luc had relaxed fully, asleep against Caleb’s chest.

Yeza, who had been tense himself, also relaxed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Caleb smiled at him, not daring to speak lest he wake Luc. He slowly carried the boy to bed, tucking him in with a kiss on the forehead he decided to give at the last second. He crept out, closing the door. He and Yeza leaned their ears against the wood, listening for a moment. When it seemed that Luc was properly asleep, they stepped away.

“He’s been like this a lot,” Yeza whispered. “At first, when we were in the hideout, I thought he was gonna be okay. And he was for a while, until we came back home. Veth’s been good with him, but it’s wearing on her. On both of us.”

“These things often don’t hit right away,” Caleb replied quietly.

“Yeah, Veth said that, too.” Yeza sighed. “You’re good with him. Where’d you learn that?”

Caleb shrugged. “My mother, and I remember the things Veth has done to help me. I am not a little boy, but the principles are similar.”

“We need to have you over more often.” The exhaustion was all too evident in Yeza’s voice. “Your students will be lucky to have you.”

Caleb managed a smile through his own exhaustion, and that personal brand of self-loathing that rarely went away. “We will see. Gute nacht, Yeza.”

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

They separated. Caleb went back to the guest room, where Essek was sitting cross-legged on the bed in his trance. As soon as Caleb slipped under the covers, Essek shifted.

“Is everything all right?”

“Ja, Luc’s asleep.” Caleb buried his face in the pillow with a sigh.

“You are good with children. Have you ever considered…” Essek laughed softly. “Hm. I feel that is a loaded question, given our relationship.”

Caleb put the meaning together. “Ja, I don’t know. I used to see myself raising a family when I was younger, but… things got complicated. Maybe in time. For now, let’s see how I go as a teacher.”

Essek hummed softly, and did not continue the discussion. This required both of them to be more energised. Given the difference in their lifespans, and the fact Essek was a wanted criminal and Caleb a likely target for members of the Assembly looking to cover their tracks, it would not be an easy decision. It could wait. It needed to.

Caleb reached out blindly until he found Essek’s knee. “Cuddle me.”

Essek chuckled. “All right.” He lay down, manhandling Caleb until they were both in a more comfortable position, Essek’s head tucked under Caleb’s chin.

***

The morning was warm and bright, and Essek was soft in Caleb’s arms. Back home, Caleb would have held Essek close, slowly rubbing the heat of Essek’s back through his shirt until they were both too distracted to make it to breakfast. Here, however, he had to make do with several deep, promising kisses. And Essek grazing his collarbone with his teeth, one hand between Caleb’s thighs, until they both took a deep breath and, regrettably, stopped.

Maybe they would take the tower tonight, or a room at the Chateau. Veth would Send to them if she needed help with Luc. She had begged Essek to teach her so she could keep up the ruse that Yasha could communicate with her across distances. Caleb was fairly certain Yasha was fucking with her by this point, but he always enjoyed watching Essek teach.

Regretfully, Caleb forced himself out of bed and away from Essek’s wandering hands. He was definitely grumbling under his breath as he dressed, while Essek reclined in bed and watched with warm amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Caleb muttered, stumbling into his trousers.

“Caleb Widogast.” Essek smiled sweetly. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I am pretending I didn't hear that,” Caleb said weakly. Because he was this close to jumping back into bed with this man.

Essek took pity on him and climbed out of bed to dress, though the way he pressed up against Caleb’s back to kiss his neck was pure evil. Nevertheless, the two of them managed to get dressed and out of the bedroom without further incident.

Luc seemed more like himself at breakfast, fiddling with his crossbow once again. Veth kissed Caleb on the cheek in a silent thank you for the previous night. Essek, as usual, braided Caleb’s hair after breakfast.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Veth asked, as Yeza brushed her hair and braided it as well.

“My brother,” Essek said, with a professional tone that sometimes came out when he wasn’t prepared to express a particular emotion. He tied off one braid at the side of Caleb’s head, starting on the other side. “Verin was always a handful. I learned to fix the mess he made of his hair when he was off climbing trees or chasing animals, or people. It was important we both presented ourselves well, and that included grooming.” His fingernails lightly grazed Caleb’s scalp. “Verin… well. Someone had to fix his hair, preferably before our mother found out.”

There was something a little steely in Essek’s voice. A defense mechanism probably. Essek rarely spoke of his family, especially now that he probably wouldn’t see them again. Caleb got the impression Essek wouldn’t miss most of them, but he may have been closer to Verin.

Essek finished the second braid and pulled them into a half-ponytail at the back of Caleb’s head. He sighed, and ran his fingers through the rest of Caleb’s hair far longer than strictly necessary. Caleb caught his wrist and squeezed, just for a moment.

***

After breakfast, Caleb and Essek headed to the Chateau following a message from Caduceus requesting Caleb’s presence. Essek peeled off to trade novels with Marion, leaving the three of them alone in Jester’s childhood bedroom. Here, Caduceus and Jester had set up a scrying ritual. The materials were mostly floral in nature, indicating this was for Caduceus.

Caleb caught on immediately, though he didn’t get the words out before Jester shoved him onto her bed. Then, it was irrelevant, as Caduceus had already begun the ritual to scry on Nico. Caleb appreciated they had asked him to be here for it.

Jester sat with Caleb, nuzzling his shoulder and very nearly stabbing his eye out with her horns. And, of course, squeezing him so hard he was afraid of cracking a rib. It felt good, though. The anxiety coiling in his gut struggled to keep its foothold.

He had been afraid to ask Caduceus or Jester to scry on Nico again. What if the thing he feared most had come true? Nico’s fireball had knocked Caleb out cold. That really should not have been possible, even if Caleb had the constitution of wet tissue paper. He was still much tougher than he used to be.

Unlike Caleb, Nico didn’t have clerics on hand to pull him from the jaws of death. Nico could have curled up to sleep one night, out in the cold, and not had the strength to wake up again. Even when he hadn’t been injured, Caleb had come close to freezing to death many times in the years between Vergesson and Veth. The eleven years of no magic, and his long-discarded outright fear of fire, had almost spelled his doom.

Maybe Caleb’s messages never received a reply because the recipient was no longer alive. He was not experienced with the Sending spell; maybe he was misreading the lack of response. Maybe there was a pattern in the magic that should have told him whether the message met its mark. Caleb knew he was smart. He knew he was methodical. But he was also emotional. Maybe he had missed something.

Jester squeezed him tighter. He was spiralling. He had to breathe. He had to think. Panicking was of no use. If Nico was dead, they needed to find his body. It had only been a few days, and Caleb had created a new Transmuter’s Stone--focusing on that had helped steel his nerves these past few days. And he was sure Jester and Caduceus had the right quality of diamonds. Even if Nico was dead, he could still be saved.

And if he was alive, they needed to know. They needed to keep trying to talk to him, try to get him to safety in whatever way they could. And even though Caleb had never had a proper conversation with the boy, he knew he would do anything to keep him safe. Anything.

What Nico was going through now, Caleb had suffered alone. He would never wish that on anyone.

Being held by Jester always brought up complicated feelings, but he was grateful she was there to physically hold him together. She was babbling about something, and Caleb genuinely tried to listen, but most of his focus was split between his whirling thoughts and watching Caduceus.

He did catch the end of her babble.

“And then King said, ‘Were you gonna tell me I had magic blood or was I supposed to find that out when I cut myself shaving?’” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “He found out because he cut himself shaving.”

Caduceus jolted, and then he was back with them. “Nope.”

The words fell out of Caleb’s mouth before he had fully considered them. “Can you tell the difference between resisting the scry and…” His brain caught up with his mouth, and choked him.

Caduceus stepped in before Caleb could spiral further. “Yeah, we can tell the difference. He resisted.” Caduceus began to collect the flowers, bundled herbs, ashes, and bone fragments. A piece of petrified wood Caleb had found him during their travels. A few botanical drawings made by Jester. Fresh seaweed from Fjord. He carefully scooped up each piece of the ritual and put them away.

Okay. Nico was alive. That was something. But they couldn’t see him. He could have been anywhere within a few days of Rexxentrum, and each of those places was freezing cold. Nico had fire, but did he have the capacity to use it? Had he found shelter? Water? Where the fuck was he?

And it was possible to be alive and conscious and on death’s door. He wasn’t dead. Yet. That could change at any moment. Caleb needed to know. He couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

“Jester.” His voice was little more than a scratchy whisper. “Please.” Talking hurt.

She gave him one last squeeze and let go. “Of course, Cayleb. I’ll try. Caduceus gave me a picture.” She slid onto the floor and began to set out little dick statues. A tiny figurine of the Traveller. A little collection of unicorn statues, many of which were new to Caleb. “Hey, Artie. We really need to see what Nico’s doing, okay?”

Caleb no longer had Truesight, but Artagan never bothered to hide his presence in Sprinkle anymore. Or when his cloak would appear and sweep over Jester. He only hid from the Nein to fuck with them these days. So, the green flash of Sprinkle’s eyes and the sweep of a green cloak were a familiar sight by now.

Caduceus took Jester’s place on the bed beside him. Neither Caduceus nor Caleb were given to filling empty space with sound unless they genuinely had something to say, so they sat quietly. Shoulders barely touching, but that was enough of an anchor for Caleb to stay calm.

Time crawled by as Jester worked through the ritual, until, finally, she looked into the distance. And she wasn’t seeing the room. Hope bloomed, sharp and painful, in Caleb’s chest.

“I see him,” she said. “It’s hard to see anything else. I think I can see green but I can’t make out shapes. Nico’s sitting on… grass, I think? There’s a campfire. Bandages. He found bandages somewhere! He looks pale, but… focused. I think? He’s bandaging his arm.”

She spent the next ten minutes describing everything Nico did. Aside from bandaging, he spent most of the time staring into the campfire. He’d found a coat somewhere, but no shoes. Shivering a bit, but nothing that would indicate a threat of hypothermia. Best she could tell, he was surviving.

Until they could get him to come back, that would have to be enough.

Once Jester had finished scrying, she squeezed onto the bed on Caleb’s other side. “Are you okay, Caleb?”

“Ja.” Knowing Nico was more or less in one piece, and did not seem to be in immediate danger, had lifted a great weight from Caleb’s ribcage. “Thank you. I was afraid to ask. Caduceus, I hate to ask that you spend another spell, but...”

Caduceus waited patiently, smiling faintly as he often did. He would say yes. Caleb knew he would.

So, despite feeling weird about asking for things like this, he did anyway. “Would you mind asking the Wildmother a few questions?”

“Give me three questions and one minute,” was all Caduceus said in response.

Caleb had spent so long worrying about this kid that coming up with three questions was easy. “First, is he in the Pearlbow Wilderness? Second, has he found clean water in the last twenty-four hours? Third, has he eaten since Rexxentrum?”

Caduceus slid to the floor once again and began setting up the ritual. “Good questions to ask, with simple answers.”

The wait was easier this time, knowing that Nico wasn’t dead, or close to it. The burning incense curled through the air, reminding Caleb fondly of his time with Frumpkin. He hoped his little friend was having a good time, wherever he was.

“Is Nicolaus Baumann in the Pearlbow Wilderness?” Caduceus asked quietly, eyes closed. Caleb could not sense the Wildmother’s response, but Caduceus nodded to himself. “Has the boy found clean drinking water in the last twenty-four hours?” A moment, and Caduceus nodded again. “Has he eaten since the meal I fed him in Rexxentrum?” This moment stretched longer, and the corner of Cad’s mouth tightened. He released the ritual, blinking his eyes clear until he could focus on them. “Nico’s in the Pearlbow Wilderness and has found clean drinking water in the last day. He has not eaten since Rexxentrum.”

Caleb swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Caduceus.” Those words could not adequately express his gratitude; how much lighter he felt knowing that Nico was surviving. They could get him back to Rexxentrum. Caleb would keep talking to him, as would Felix. It was doable. “And, Jester. Thank you.”

The two clerics exchanged a look, laced with meaning that Caleb could not read. But he suspected they had discussed this whole thing in detail long before they had invited Caleb here. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to having friends who would literally team up to take care of him like that. It frightened him a little, but he knew the fear was irrational. They loved him as much as he loved them. Not always in the same way, especially when it came to Jester, but it was love all the same.

Then Jester’s mood shifted, and she was grinning. “Hey, Cay-leb.”

“...ja?”

“Did Essek bring his parasol?”

“Ja, of course. It’s Nicodranas.”

“Cool! I got you guys a huge beach umbrella. Meet us downstairs in an hour.” She kissed his cheek, and tore out of her room. “BEACH TRIP!!”

Caduceus chuckled softly, unfolding himself from the floor. “She has been planning this all day.”

“Ja, I figured.” Caleb had missed the beach. So different from his old life that it was easier to let go of things there. “Are you coming?”

Caduceus laughed openly at that. Of course he was coming. Nobody said no to Jester Lavorre.

This was probably the last time the two of them would be alone in a while. There were things Caleb wanted to say. Needed to.

“Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“Caleb.” Caduceus smiled, but he allowed the sadness of it to break through. “You were alone for a long time. So was I. So were… all of us. We’ve all grown together. And you… I always knew you were being shaped into something. What that something was… that was your choice. Reaching out to people who went through what you have, taking your pain and what you have learned to protect them from the worst of your experiences… that’s growth, Caleb. You’re healing. I’m proud of you. We all are.”

The words hit hard, drawing tears from the corners of Caleb’s eyes. But they were good tears. It felt like a poison was leaving his body.

“You helped,” Caleb said, standing to face Caduceus properly. “All of you. And I know I didn’t always listen to you, but I remember everything. Your words mean a lot to me. Thank you.” He felt a surge of affection and a sob escaped his throat. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

It had never occurred to Caleb that firbolgs would give great hugs. They had giant heritage and were stronger than they looked. Caleb had come to prefer hugs that crushed his soul back into his body, so this was perfect. He let Caduceus squish him, tucking his face into the folds of his robe. Caduceus always smelled of herbs and earth. A grounding, calming scent to match a grounding, calming man.

Caduceus had been exactly what the Nein, and Caleb himself, had needed after they lost Molly. And he continued to fill that role, gladly, even when it caused him personal pain. Caleb loved him dearly.

They were still hugging when Jester came to grab a few things from her room, and she gladly jumped in, babbling about the beach trip and all the plans she had made for it.

Caleb breathed easier than he had in days.

[petri808]

Hauntober prompt Black cat

Inukag requested by @malditamigs

AU story. I seriously need to learn the meaning of keep it short xD. 1800 words. Hope it came out okay, I liked the idea lol.

There was only one night that Kagome had any chance of lifting the curse, or she’d have to wait another year for the opportunity. For decades she’d tried and failed, and at some point, had almost given up on being human again. A witch had cursed her to be a black cat saying she needed to understand love before she deserved to be human. Okay, she had to admit back then she treated men like toys, getting them to fall in love only to drop them and move on. But to be cursed for it?! That wasn’t fair at all!

She’d take any man just to break this curse! At first, she thought how hard could it be to get someone to love a cat? Humans loved cats as companions and pets, surely, she could parlay such affections into breaking her curse. She’d play the role, the ever-loving kitty, using her wiles on the man, and on Halloween once the sun set, she would transform into a human, praying that because they’d already cared for her as a cat, they would instantly fall in love with her as a human. But it never worked. One after the other, they would freak out and kick her out the door. Be gone witch!

But she wasn’t a witch! Kagome just wanted to be human, to love, to have a family and grow old with someone. It may have taken a few years of trial and error, but she got it now! She understood how important love really was and begged for a chance to prove herself. Because this time, Kagome was the one who’d fallen in love.

It had been a fluke that she’d met Inuyasha two days after Halloween and being kicked out of another home. She’d been wandering the streets when an early snowstorm hit the city and his house was the closest shelter she could find. He took pity on the scrawny black kitty, taking her inside, feeding her and warming her up by a fireplace. Handsome and adoring to animals, this man she’d come to learn was only half human, a product of a human mother and demon father. Rare in this world, but also shunned to some degree. So, animals became the man’s company.

Kagome wasn’t sure at what point her affections had crossed the line into romantic love, but she knew that’s what she was feeling. It didn’t bother her that he could have a brash personality or how his social skills were poorly developed, because she understood the pain of being different. As a young woman, her lavish and selfish attitude would have scoffed at such a person but having been forced to see the error of her ways, it broke her heart when other people treated him like a freak. So, for the entire year she was with Inuyasha, Kagome did what she could in her limited capacity to make sure he felt adored by someone or something. To know he was special and important to her, not just because she had an agenda, but because he deserved to be loved for who he was.

The afternoon of Halloween, Inuyasha had returned from work a little more sullen than usual. From what Kagome could gather, some teenagers on a construction site were teasing him about his appearance, especially his canine ears, asking if he stayed in costume all year. Stupid, but not the worst insult he’s probably ever had, it still brought him down. So, Kagome works her magic, immediately purring and rubbing along his legs, pawing at them and begging for affections to make him forget about those creeps. And Inuyasha obliges, instantly taking a long exhale and picking her up for cuddles.

“Thank goodness I have you,” he scratches behind her ears and under her chest as he holds her in his arms. “I think you’re the reason I didn’t kill those dumbasses today cause then who’d be home to take care of you?”

“Merow,” she mewls and purrs at his ministrations, offering a feline response to his venting. If only she could tell him with words just how much he meant to her. The man gives her a few more scratches behind the ear before putting her down and going about his routine. Feeding her, taking a shower, and dinner for himself.

Kagome was growing nervous, fidgeting as the sun slowly set, because soon enough, Inuyasha was about to get the surprise of his life and her world could come crashing down around her. It was very different this time for her. She paces back and forth next to the dinner table as Inuyasha eats, just watching the light outside dim away. The anxiety driving her crazy, but the wait pained her more than ever before. If Inuyasha reacts like all the others before him, well... this time Kagome really might just give up from a broken heart.

Seeing his cat acting distressed, Inuyasha picks her up and places her on his lap. “What’s wrong?” She stands up and puts her paws on his chest, forcefully rubbing her face against his chin. “Aww, you really want attention today, huh,” he chuckles and snuggles her back, scratching her back and near her tail.

The familiar tingles start racing through her body, the signal that her transformation was imminent. So, Kagome tries to jump off, but he holds her down, preferring to cuddle. She tries a second time, struggling against him in concern of changing right on his lap!

“Kuro, first you’re all love me, now you want down?” He laughs, “typical feline.” She stops struggling and looks up at him, their eyes meeting. It was too late now. So, she stands up again, stretching as far as she can to wrap her paws around his neck. “Awww,” he hugs her, “that’s my girl.”

The transformation begins in a flash of light. “What the?!” Inuyasha shouts, but Kagome grips tighter to his neck. “K-Kuro?! Kuro what’s going on?!” He was about to find out as he watches with shock and awe as his sleek little black kitty changes right before his eyes, elongating, her feline features turning human. Her whines and cries from the pain torture his ears. They pin back as he gives up trying to understand, closing his eyes to the light and tightening the hold he’d had over her growing body.

Several moments pass by until finally... silence and a much heavier weight on Inuyasha’s lap causes him to release his hold. Kagome leans back slowly, her hands still around his neck, staring forward with trepidation to gauge his reaction. “I-I know this is a shock.” Her voice soft and tenuous on the verge of tears.

But all he can do was stare at her, processing the fact that his cat wasn’t a cat anymore but a beautiful woman with raven colored hair just like the fur he was used to seeing. Her yellow eyes were a chocolatey brown now, large and doe-like, with such porcelain white skin... holy shit! He had a naked woman on his lap! Her scent was interestingly still the same, just heightened and mixed with such pain and fear, his inner demon growled in annoyance. It didn’t like her feeling that way.

“Please, say something,” Kagome worries her bottom lip. The silence was killing her, and she couldn’t gauge his thoughts. ‘He’s in shock. Any second now he’s gonna bounce me off his lap and tell me to leave. I know it, it’s just like the other times.’ “I’m sorry,” tears quickly trickling down her cheeks, “this must be... maybe I should just leave...”

“What?! No, way, you— I’m not!” He stops and takes a deep breath to calm his own adrenaline, picking Kagome up and bringing them to the couch. He then pulls the throw blanket off the back of the couch, wraps it around and takes a seat beside her. “Tell me, who are you really?”

Kagome let’s out an exhale and tells her story from start to finish, tentatively at first but as the words flowed, so too, did the emotions tied to her journey of pain and understanding. It was like a cork being popped on a bottle of alcohol. She didn’t hold back anything seeing as she’d finally had an opportunity to tell her tale. By the end her cheeks were red and eyes puffy from crying, but a weight felt lifted off her shoulders. This was the longest conversation she’d held with another human in fifty years. “So, that’s everything,” her words dying out in a wisp. Though her tears had slowed they continued to trickle. “I’m sure it must all be overwhelming, a-and I’ll understand if you tell me to leave too.”

That’s when it was Inuyasha’s turn to surprise her. He reaches out and cradles her face in his hand and wipes away some of the tears. “I don’t want you to leave Kur—Kagome,” eyes softening. “You’re still my girl, even if... ehm, not in the same form. I’m not exactly complaining about it by the way.” The statement causes her to blush something fierce and her eyes avert away in embarrassment. “I mean, you’ve made me so happy this year, I think more so than any other time in my life. Cat or not, that was all you, right? Not some trick if your honest tears are telling me anything.”

“It’s not a trick. I think— know I’ve fallen in love with you Inuyasha.”

A second burst of light suddenly catches them off guard and Kagome’s body starts to glow.

“What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t usually turn back till morning...”

But as quickly as it hit, the light dies away leaving her in the same human body. “Oh, my goodness...” Kagome looks to a confused Inuyasha, “I-I think it’s broken. Does that mean, you love me too?”

His eyes widen, “um, I mean I do like what I see, but I don’t know if I can say love yet.”

“But,” she looks at herself in confusion, “the witch said only love can break the curse and I assumed she meant the guy had to fall in love with me.”

“Based on what you told me, maybe it was you who had to feel real love.”

The sudden realization dawns on Kagome. It was true. All the others... she’d never loved them, only resigned herself to be stuck with whoever loved her to break the curse. This has always been a lesson for her to figure out. Fresh tears break free, so Inuyasha wipes them away, letting his thumb sweep along her skin. He’d been honest with her that he couldn’t use the word love yet but knowing how much this woman truly cared for him was certainly enough to let it enter a heart he’d walled off to love. He runs his thumb over her lips, then sweeps in, kissing her and letting his hand weave into her hair to test this newfound possibility. Needless to say, his inner demon was delighted.

“This is gonna take some adjustments, but so far I’m liking it,” he smiles. “I will miss how you greet me when I come home rubbing against my legs.”

Kagome bursts into tearful giggles. “I think that can still be arranged.”

[whenitcounts33]

Join Me pt. 2

What she remembers: Fire burning every cell of her body, reforming and then burning again. Her heart, beating much too fast to be safe, pumping the fire through her body. Victoria speaking to her in a soft voice, crooning to her and brushing hands Bella can barely feel through her hair. It’ll be over soon. I’m sorry. I remember how much it hurts. The fire slowly starting to leave her body, starting with her toes and then her legs and torso. It dragged to her heart, hotter than before.

What she remembers: Edward. The soft venom in his honey voice. I don’t want you anymore. I’m a good liar. All of the Cullen's leaving. Leaving her. Her best friend Alice leaving without a goodbye, half a year of friendship gone because of a paper cut. Esme staring at her in mute horror, hand clasped over her mouth and eyes black with hunger. Jasper’s venom coated teeth snapping inches from her face, a ferocious snarl tearing from his throat. Carlie’s steady breathing as he stitched her better, Rosalie’s smug expression as she left the house, Emmett with her, a firm grip on Jasper. The fear ripping through her, a scream tearing from her sore throat when she woke up every night (when she wakes up two-days later, she remembers them, him, with a soft hatred, understanding why they, he, had to leave her but hating them, him, for it).

What she remembers: When Bella woke up, it was with a gasp. Someone’s hand, skin warm and smooth, maybe soft, was holding hers.

What she remembers: Her body flying from the floor and into a corner, bent into a predatory position, protecting herself. Victoria watched her warily from where Bella originally was, hands held out in a placating gesture. She only noticed her with a part of her brain, the rest of her was focused on everything else. She could see, taste, smell everything. “Wow,” she breathed, and then froze, she could taste the dust motes on her tongue, and the tangy taste of leather and cotton. Her voice, though, that startled her. It was higher pitched, musical, like a bell, nothing like Victoria’s little girl’s voice.

                                                          *****************************

Bella loved running, going so fast everything should have blurred as it flew past her, her bare feet barely touching the ground. It felt like flying and for those first few days Bella and Victoria raced each other all the way from Washington to Canada and back again. Victoria let Bella hunt her own way, following closely so nothing went wrong. It felt weird, sinking her teeth into some homeless man’s throat, but the taste and feel of his blood kept her from thinking about it too much. Her eyes were still ruby red; she jumped in fright every time she saw them in a reflection. Victoria told her, after she stopped laughing at Bella, that they wouldn’t be so bright in a year.

It was after the third feeding – round of hunting? – that she bought the topic up to Victoria, nervously fingering the fringes of her yellow sweater. For the first month of her “new” life, she ripped hundreds of shirts and pants trying to get them on. She was so much stronger than the flimsy fabrics now.

“Do you think,” she began, smiling softly when Victoria swatter her fingers away from the sweater, “that we should change our eating habits?” She remembered the Cullen's, thoughts clouds and hazy, and their gold eyes and how they hunted animals, not humans.

Victoria arched a brow, head tilted, something Bella still associated with house cats. “What do you mean?” She asked and Bella swallowed, noting the dull burn in her throat, and sighed softly. “I think we should hunt animals.” She waited with bated breath as the words sunk in, Victoria’s mouth thinning and her eyes turning speculative. “Why do you think that?” she finally asked after 105 seconds of silence. Bella blew out a noisy breath of relief and launched into her explanation. How he – Bella never spoke about them by name and Victoria never questioned it, she just went with it – and the rest of his family had hunter animals, not humans, and that it left them much the same as her and Victoria. How he had hunted after the human predators for a time, how he stopped because he didn’t want to be a monster.

Victoria looked at Bella and Bella looked back, a silent conversation between the two of them going on. Victoria saw how Bella truly wanted this, how only feeding from any human that they found was slowly killing her. Bella saw how Victoria shied away from the thought of hunting animals but liked the idea of hunting down the predators, of making them suffer the way their prey did. Victoria nodded, reaching out her hand, and Bella immediately put her hand in hers, linking their fingers.

This, their relationship, was something Bella never had when she was human. Something she could have had with Alice, had it not been cut short. “We could try,” she says, and hope flares up and Bella throws herself at Victoria, the red-head yelping as the force of the tackle makes Victoria fly backwards, right into an old spruce that crashes to the ground with a loud groan.

“You’re an idiot,” Victoria laughs, fond, and Bella beams.

                                        *****************************

Bella watched as Victoria paced back and forth, too fast for a human to see, too fast for Bella to watch without wincing as her feet makes permanent marks in the cement. “Vic,” Bella sighs, interrupted by the groan of the human boy lying in a pool of his own blood six-feet from where she perched.

Riley Biers. 

Six-feet-three-inches and pure muscle. Not stocky like a football player, but lankier, like a swimmer. Sandy blond hair and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. A beautiful boy, really. Victoria had stopped him from dying after feeding from his attackers; three assholes who jumped him and brutalized him and left him for dead. Victoria hunted them down and made them pay. Victoria had called up Bella, swearing and frantic, on the verge of a panic attack and Bella had rushed to her, worried about her sister.

“I can’t let him die, Bell,” Victoria sobbed, letting Bella tug her into a tight hug, red curls tickling her cheek. “I think he’s my mate,” she whispered a while after, having gotten Riley stabilized, the bleeding done for now, his ribs wrapped up nice and tight. Bella had taken a nursing class when they got to Seattle, after being in Canada for half a year, and felt sure enough in her skills that she knew Riley would last for a few more hours. Or until Victoria figured out what she wanted to do.

Bella glanced over at her best friend, brows raised, sympathy clear in her orange-amber eyes. “Why do you say that?” She asked, knowing she had to be the one to stay clinical, to not let her emotions or feelings get in the way of what needed to happen. She glanced down at Riley, at the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Because” Victoria sighed, running both hands through the snarled mass of red curls, “I could tell from the moment I heard him scream. It was killing me, knowing someone was hurting him, that he was in pain. Then I got to him and took one look at his face and it was like something clicked. Like I was missing something and didn’t realize until he was right there.”

Bella pressed her lips together and glanced down at Victoria. She placed her arms around the other woman, letting her lean against her for comfort. “Then change him,” she whispered. “If he feels the same way about you that you do about him when he wakes up. . ..” She trailed off, shrugging, Victoria hissed slightly when the motion jostled her head on Bella’s shoulder. She was thinking about it though, Bella knew, in the clinical, careful way that she thought.

“Do you really think so?” She asked, voice soft and shy and hesitant and Bella was surprised that her spitfire of a best friend was nervous about this human boy. Though, she supposed, this was certainly not a situation that anyone would be comfortable or sure in. She wondered if Carlisle was this nervous before creating another vampire to join his family. Was he this nervous, or was he self-assured, confident that he was making the right decision?

Victoria suddenly sat up straight, a gasp leaving her mouth and she flew the three-feet to Riley Biers, hands fluttering uselessly over him, eyes wide and frantic. Riley was watching her, cheeks bright red like he had a fever, his own eyes wide, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but Bella beat him to it. “Now or never, Vic,” she said, kneeling down on the other side of Riley, movements slow and deliberate so as to not frighten him. Victoria drew in a deep breath, wincing when the smell and taste of his blood surrounded her.

She told him about the change, about what Bella and Victoria did, how they tried to protect girls, and boys, from those who hurt them, who manipulated them for their own gain. How Riley had a choice: they could change him, turn him into a vampire; they could let him die, peacefully, with no pain; or they could bring him to a hospital.

Three days later, Riley Biers woke up as a vampire. Two months later Bella had to leave Seattle for a few days because she was not listening to Victoria and Riley have sex. No, she’d rather burn again.

                                          *****************************

It was a three months later when they met Bree Tanner. She was a tiny thing and Bella felt a maternal affection and a need to protect for the girl the minute she saw her. She was sitting in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She was watching Bella and Bella was watching Bree.

Bella knew Bree was poor, that she had no real home life. She saw her nearly get into some creeps’ car because he offered to buy her dinner for a blowie. Thank god Bree had the good sense to realize she’d probably end up with some disease if she did this and said no. Bella would have thrown up if she could. She settled for draining the guy dry and leaving him in the alley she found him in. Three days later she saw Bree again and this time Bella got her lunch; a turkey sandwich from a Deli Bree likes, with a bag of Taki’s and a strawberry shake from a McDonald’s down the street. Bella also bullies Bree into drinking two bottles of water.

After, when Bree asks why Bella did this, the woman could only shrug, not truly knowing. “You look like you could use the meal and that you don’t know a lot of people who would buy you lunch.” Bree had smiled at that, tentative and as pretty as the sun after a long day of rain. Bella promises herself she’ll buy Bree lunch, or any meal, whenever they see each other.

It’s a month later when Bree’s father dies, and the poor girl is homeless. Bella gets a call from a payphone and rushes to Bree, pulling the crying girl into a tight hug that steals the breath from Bree’s lungs (Bella finally realizes how easily Edward could have killed her when she holds Bree’s fragile, human body in her arms).

Riley and Victoria are with her, standing a few feet back so as to not frighten the girl – neither admit it’s because Bree smells good and Riley is still too new to be trusted so close to a human he wasn’t planning on feeding from. Victoria watches the fond look grow in Bella’s eyes, the way she brushes a lock of black hair from the girl’s forehead, the way the girl doesn’t flinch away from Bella’s alien touch. Bella hadn’t flinched away from Victoria’s touch, but Bella was weird and something different was going on in her brain, so she couldn’t really fault her for that.

Riley tugged her closer, tight against his side and Victoria smiled at the familiar flash of heat that went through her body, snuggling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. He wasn’t breathing too much, she knows, even knowing Bella and Victoria would never let him hurt someone he shouldn’t. Could never be too careful. “D’you think Bells will change her?” He whispered, low enough anyone that could walk by would have no chance of hearing. Bella, of course, hears him though, and stretches her arm out behind her to flash Riley the finger, making him shake with suppressed laughter.

“Maybe,” Victoria murmurs, resting her head against Riley’s shoulder and listens to Bella ask Bree about her classes at school, listens to Bree go on and on and on about a short story she’s writing for her English class. “We just finished Macbeth though, so she has to give us the test before we really get into the stories. My teacher told me I wrote the best essay in all her classes,” she gloats and Bella beams, proud as any mother. “You’ll have to let me read it,” Bella says and Bree nods eagerly, “’Course,” she promises.

Neither Victoria or Riley is surprised when Bella changes Bree and the two are joined at the hip, Bree always holding onto Bella’s hand and Bella always smoothing down Bree’s hair.

Bella lays at night, Bree curled up against her side as she softly reads from a book of poems by Audre Lorde. Victoria has her head in Riley’s lap, his fingers carding through her wild curls, both listening to Bree’s soft voice.

“In the blood in the bone over coffee/ before dashing for elevators going/ in opposite direction without goodbyes,” she reads out loud and Bella smiles, closing her eyes.

She finally has her family.

[crossroadsfossil]

May I Have a Name

Atsuhiro Sako was not the name he was born with. Nor was it his second name, the one he chose to wear and parade around. His third and fourth had come and gone so quickly he didn’t remember them. During his few years, he’s had many names, changing them out when they become too heavy a burden to bear. His family may have a lineage he cannot escape but at least with his name, he can run from it, just for a little while. 

When it is all over, the war, the drive, the energy to fight, everything that had given their little family life and fire had died down, he takes them to see the witch. They are tired and aching, lighter of limbs and organs and ideals. They have lost so much and gained so little in comparison. He thinks it’s time for them to seek out something else. There is no shame in starting from scratch. 

He has never done this with others. He was brought the first time, brought by a man who loved his brother and took on the weight of a promise to keep Atsuhiro safe when he could not. He did not remember his brother’s lover. He recalled a warmth and a deep affection, a warmer palm on a shoulder blade and a mask pressed into his hand, carrying the mark of his brother. That man was many years dead, vanishing into the night after ensuring Atsuhiro was cared for. 

She called herself a witch, playing into the stereotypes with vigor and zest for the tacky theatrics. He respected it greatly, even if her style clashed horribly with his own. The name he knows her by is Faetrader. It is the only name he has ever known for her. 

She tilts her hat high upon her brow, looking long and hard, first at him and then at those he has brought. Tired eyes return her gaze, and she must see something, for her eyes soften at the edges and she welcomes them in with no trickery or haggling. Everything in his pockets stays in his pockets, although there are a few hard candies where they weren’t any before. She gives him a pleased wink when he notices. 

They sit in her parlor, and she gives them tea and sweet things to eat and savory soups that are light on their stomachs. She looks over their wounds and slowly, stories spill out. She says nothing throughout the storytelling, yet with nothing more than a glance or a twitch of a lip, they tell her all that has happened to them. He assumes it’s part of her quirk. She hears of their trials, of missing limbs and deep scars, of betrayal and love and loss and all the little and large things in between. She listens as things familiar to him and not are aired to the room, watches as the other’s jolt in surprise at what escapes them. Not quite dark secrets, but things that wouldn’t normally be aired to strangers. 

Faetrader is and isn’t a stranger. She is a liminal space shaped like a person. 

When Atsuhiro finishes all that he has to tell her (at least, all the new things she has yet to hear), he gets up and takes a seat on the pillow before her. It’s old and threadbare, carrying the ages and ghosts of all those who have sat upon it before. He knows the routine. Knows the process required for her quirk to work. He sits before her, gloves and mask set in her waiting hands. They are the things that he will not change, cannot let them be changed. 

She smiles at the familiarity of it. He mirrors her expression and clears his throat. 

“My dear Faetrader, may I have a new name? Mine is heavy with deeds and stories and my remaining limbs are weak and weary.” He feels the edges of her quirk sink into the broken parts of him, probing and testing like an insects’ antenna. He feels it move up to his face, holding him still. Her hands are still in her lap, fingers curled around his mask and gloves as she examines his features carefully. She leans in, cheek brushing his as she whispers in his ear. 

He laughs, caught off guard by the name she has given him. It’s startling enough that he doesn’t feel his old name, his old self being tugged away from him, like stray threads being pulled free. He can feel the change beginning. It’ll take a few weeks for it to fully settle, but already he knows he will not recognize the man in the mirror when he looks later that night. Her smile grows wider and she offers him back his mask and gloves. As he takes them, she turns to the rest of the group, smile sharp and predatory as the unspoken question hangs in the air. 

Who is next? 

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sako watches the others as their new names and identities slowly settle around them, some settling like cloaks and others as hoodies or blankets or something else. Dabi is the most at ease with it; not a surprise since he is well versed in shucking old lives and taking up new ones. He walks the house, exploring and sticking his nose into the near-endless rooms which are eighty percent closets. At least, that is how the house presents itself to him. Rooms upon rooms of closets, with half-picked apart identities, hung up on a rack, waiting for Faetrader to weave them into something new. He hears the distant sound of a door sliding open. It seems something has piqued Dabi’s interest. 

Toga lets out a frustrated whine and runs a hand through her hair again. It doesn’t look different to him, yet, but she keeps fidgeting with it. Shigaraki is similarly discomforted by the sensation, although he hides it better. The neck scratching has returned, and Sako worries. 

His worries seem to ring loud enough that Faetrader shows up, bringing more tea and snacks and followed by several cats. A dog lurks behind her, not quite right in the shadows of the hallway. Too-human eyes peer in at them before blinking out of existence. 

Dabi returns shortly after, anger and confusion broiling under his skin as he brandishes a garment bag at their host. She looks at it and smiles. Sako watches as she takes the bag, unzipping it and pulling out long red feather after feather. They are achingly familiar. She offers one to Dabi. 

“Why do you have these?” He snarls, reaching out with his hand. A pale blue fire flickers up, catching the edge of the feather before sputtering out. Surprise streaks across Dabi’s face as he looks down at his hand. Another weak blue flame flares up and then dies as quickly. Again, Faetrader offers him one of Hawks’ feathers. 

He doesn’t take it. 

“Curious.” Sako muses, “It seems Hawks also knew of this place, correct?” Their host nods, putting the feathers back into the garment bag. 

“How long ago was he here?” 

Three fingers slowly rose. 

“Three days?” She shook her head. 

“Three hours?” She nodded, grin turning predatory again, her eyes sliding to watch the expressions morph on Dabi’s face. Dabi noticed her glee and he snarled, fist opening and closing, old motions for calling fire no longer working for him. He turns on a heel and stalks off down the hallway. Faetrader lets out a silent laugh and folds the garment bag over her arm. She pauses, thinking better of it. She gestures with it to the room, an invitation for them to take it. 

“No, my dear, I don’t think any of us would like that mantle.” She shook her head again and tucked her hands under her armpits, flapping her elbows like wings. “I don’t think any of us would like wings, either. Or the quirk that comes with them.” 

She sighs as if saying ‘as you wish’ and left, going down the hallway after Dabi. Sako sincerely hoped that Dabi wouldn’t do anything to piss Faetrader off. Their identities were still forming and Faetrader could be quite malicious if you spurned her goodwill. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

By the next morning, Sako feels his new quirk. Well, it’s an old quirk that’s been massaged to fit his new identity and name. It will take some time getting used to, but he’s content. What was more enjoyable was watching Shigaraki trying out the quirk associated with his new identity. Toga was frustrated with hers, something to do with paper folding and she was on the verge of tears when Shigaraki sat down next to her and started combing through her hair with his fingers. 

It was like Toga’s strings had been cut, she slumped against him, purring in calm contentedness. At least until Toga and Shigaraki realized she was quite literally purring. It startled both of them out of their seats. For the last hour, he had been watching Shigaraki test out his ability. So far they had puzzled out that he could purr, people he touched could purr, and the purring seemed to imbue the space within hearing range with a sense of calm and contentment. 

Dabi returned late last night from his exploration of the house, gently escorted by the human-eyed dog that Faetrader had. It waited patiently for Dabi to settle down to sleep before closing the door and walking away. Sako had watched as the shadows on the screen wall changed from dog to something almost human, but not quite. It didn’t have the right proportions. He caught Dabi’s eyes in the dark. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who noticed the oddity of the dog. Dabi silently shifted so his back was to the wall, despite Sako whispering that they were quite safe in this house. 

Dabi was still pressed against the wall now, eyeing his hands, no doubt trying to summon the fire he had spent his life with. Slowly, something else began to manifest. It was faint, but Sako felt his lips twitch into a grin as various colored strings appeared around Dabi’s fingers. They faintly reached out to everyone in the room. He met Dabi’s eyes and, much to his delight and amusement, Dabi flustered, face flushing as he crossed his arms, hiding his hands and new quirk. 

Faetrader appeared at the door, a mug of coffee in one hand and her bathrobe loose around her shoulders, sleep shirt and pants overly-large. Her hat was perched on her head, and Sako knew it was time for them to leave. There were bags at the front door, filled with everything they would need to start over again. Identification cards, paperwork, bits and bobs of a life someone else lived. He knew the drill. Take your bag and live. 

As they left, she caught his arm. It was the first time that she had done that. She held an envelope out to him, and waited as he opened it. Inside were two photos. They were of young men and they looked vaguely familiar. Names were scrawled on the bottom, along with tiny doodles. One was of a theater mask, smiling and crying. The other was a feather drawn in red ink. 

Oh. 

Oh.

“.... How?” He asked. Faetrader gave him a small, sad smile. Unable to tell him the details. This was as much as she was able to do. She squeezed his hands and left him and his little family at the doorway, disappearing into the darkness of the house. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Well then. A quick reminder- once we leave this house, we aren’t the people we were before.” Sako said, pocketing the envelope and picking up his bags. “You won’t be able to use your old names easily anymore, and well, I’m sure you’ve seen the other changes already.” He gestured to his own changing facial features. He still had his dark hair and charming good looks, but it was just slightly off, not the Atsuhiro Sako they had known. They were new people now, ready to live new lives, free of the burdens of their past. 

He knew this song and dance quite well, but this time, he had others with him. He patted the pocket with the envelope. 

And, it seemed, direction on where to go to get the others. 

[zoffra]

Can you write a Feitan x reader? If you could include his inspiration on Trevor Browns books it would be great!

Hello anon! Sorry for the delay, meantime on my instagram I received a request for a Feitan NSFW, so I decided to treat them together. I hope it will suits you.

SFW

- You and Feitan were childhood friends. Majority of children in Meteor city grow up without a family in a hostile environment, but you had been relatively lucky. Your mother was a loving and courageous woman. She wasn't often present because she worked a lot so that offer you a decent life and a warm home.

- One cold winter night, you heard a thud coming from outside. When you went out, you saw a little boy about your age, curled up on your porch. 'You're okay? What's your name?' you asked him by putting your hand on his shoulder but he didn't answer, his body was cold, and his tatters clothes soaked in the rain.

- You carried him home and put him in your bed with dry clothes. He had a lot of fever, so you called your mother so that she buy medicine on the way home, then you stayed at him bedside making sure the temperature didn't go up too much.

- He stayed bedridden for four days. He started to be able to eat the third day, then when finally his fever subsided and his skin had regained a little color, he left 'I come back, to see you.'

- When you met him, Feitan had recently arrived at Meteor city and you noticed that he didn't speak the common language well. He didn't have too many problems with comprehension but he expressed poorly. You offered to give him lessons once a week, which he accepted with a scowl.

- Your library was filled with varied works, classics but also rare books. You had asked Feitan to choose a book from the library himself so that you could study it together.

- Not seeing him come back after twenty minutes, you got up to join him. 'Feitan, you can't make up your mind-'. Your words were lost when you saw him, reading a book that was certainly not recommended for a child of his age. Cover was a bright poppy red, a little girl looking like a hurt doll was reading a book called 'my alphabet'.

- Feitan was a stoic child with an icy face, but at that specific time he wore an expression that you have never seen on him. His gaze scanned pages with a strange glow, as if he was bewitched by what he saw.

- 'Feitan.' you called him a second time, forcing a little on your voice to indicate your presence. He instantly closed the book, '(Y/N), this book... yours?'

- 'N-no!' you stammered, uncomfortable, twisting a strend of your hair on your finger. 'It was my father's. He was passionate about books, almost everything is his, here.' You were lying.

- 'I see...' Feitan put the book back on the shelf where he found it, grabbed another book - more classic - that he had put aside, and joined you. '(Y/N), I can't read...author's name...'

- You closed the door in his path and you answered him with a smirk 'Trevor Brown.'

20 years later

- You were determined to sort your old books. You was squatting in your dusty locale for two hours, filling cartons to the brim which formed a pile on the verge of collapse.

- You looked around the room, fulminate against the workload you still had to accomplish. You were inwardly cursing yourself for being so messy, when your gaze stopped on a book sticking out of a shelf.

- You picked it up carefully, rubbing gently with your thumb its red blanket which crumbled under the pressure of your finger.

- 'Always mess here.' A cold voice coming from your back made you jump. Recently, you had installed bells on your front door, their ringing should have warned you that someone had entered.

- You got up a little annoyed, 'Even the cat make tinkle bells when he passes the door. How do you do that?'

- 'Compare me to a common cat. Bold.' As he walked toward you, you almost couldn't make out the sound of his steps. 'It's been a long time, Feitan'.

- 'Still without sugar with milk's cloud?' 'You asked him while bringing water to a boil. Sitting at table's kitchen, the little black haired man nodded. 'Things changed here.' he said, staring at your hands as you squeeze the mint leaves into your new infuser.

- 'Lots of things can change in one year.' You answered dryly, your tone being colder than you would have liked. Feitan narrowed his eyes, 'What's wrong.' His tone was calm but his gaze probed yours, calling for a clear answer. It would have been good to be cautious and choose your words correctly, but you were angry.

- 'You ask me what's wrong?! You really are an asshole, Feitan! ' At your words, Feitan jumped so quickly from his chair that he knocked over the table. He threw himself on you, grabbing you by the collar, wedging you against the wall so hard that you thought you heard your neck crack.

- 'Say that again.' It was clearly a warning to not do it. 'You are... an asshole!' Your words get lost on your tongue as you break down in tears. 'You leave me... a year without news... I thought you were dead!' You almost suffocated between each words as he tightened his grip on you, 'How dare you reappear as if nothing had happened!'

- Feitan loosened his grip on your neck, letting you catch your breath. However, he didn't break the closeness between you, and whisper almost inaudibly 'I sorry.'

- You've opened your eyes in surprise. Since you first met Feitan, he had never apologized. He regularly went on a mission with the troop and you knew what he meant by 'mission'. During that time it would be impossible for you to contact him, but he never has left you that long without news.

- His words made you cry even more. He pulled away gently and lifted your chin with his thumb 'If my apologies make you cry even more, I won't do it again.' his tone was teasing but his smile was benevolent.

- You saw him bring his face closer to yours, and before you realized what was happening, his mouth was already pressed against yours. Her lips were cold and wet, like you always imagined, and his kiss was chaste and quick.

NSFW

- You always desired Feitan, your eyes burned with envy, 'Fei... even more?'

- He gave you a knowing look,and he lifted you as if you weighed nothing. You were tall than him but he was incredibly strong for his size, he pressed you against the wall, your legs swaying on each side of his pelvis.

- He kissed you a second time putting his tongue this time, offering you a messy kiss tasted like your salty tears.

- You could feel his erection over his tunic as he kneaded your ass with his right hand, and with his left hand he looking for your already wet pussy. He didn't insert a finger, only making small circles on your swollen clitoris with pleasure.

- 'Fuck, Fei! Take me! ', He didn't wait for you to repeat it a second time. He took his beautiful cock out of his pants, spread your legs almost violently and inserted it into you.

- 'Gnnn... tight... so good...' he groaned against your ear, taking you almost too hard against the wall that drummed at each of his pushes.

- 'Feitan...' you said softly. 'Too strong?' he asked, looking at your face which winced slightly. "It's good but... may be little more sloftly?"

- 'Stupid. I'm stupid.' Feitan thought it very strongly. He finally made love to the woman he loved and he hurt her. 'I sorry, don't want hurt you. I go slowly. '

- He readjusted you against his waist and buried his head in your neck, marking your skin with his teeth. 'You, mine.' Its pushes were more and more fast and disorderly, he was close '(Y/N)... mine.'

- You tightened the grip in his hair, 'Come in me, if you want.' Your words sounded like a liberation for Feitan. You heard him growled in his mother tongue, before feeling his warm liquid fill you little by little.

- 'You came a lot', You teased him gently. 'Tsk.' he took a breath, his raven black hair pressed against his face. He was still holding you '(Y/N) ... book you holding earlier...' Oh damn, you knew what he had in mind, you too. Ready for a second round?

[poisongirl18]

You Drive Me Wild

Thank you @curvynerdfan​ for my very first request! AHHH I’m so excited! If anyone is looking for anymore SOA requests be sure to message me! Now . ..  on with the show!

Reader X Jax Teller

Jax and I never saw eye to eye, it was much worse than that. There was usually something thrown, mostly at him. I could not tell you how many times he needed stiches in that big blonde head of his. I would call him an asshole and he would retort to telling me that I could not keep my fucking nose out of club business.

When we got together after so many years of fighting nobody could understand how it could happen.

It started out as fight that ended up as a good sweaty, needy fuck in his bed.

At first, I feared that I would end up being the one of many women in and out of bedroom, but when Jax kept coming around more and more often I realized that he actually cared for me.

It did not stop us from fighting like cats and dogs, though.

“Jax this is ridiculous.” I scoffed as I sat on his bed in his room at the club.

Jax had called me to the club, telling me there was something important that he needed to discuss with me, but when I got there, he had immediately told me that I needed to be watched.

“This isn’t up for discussion Primrose.” He said, using his strong voice to knock me down a few pegs. Unfortunately for him, it did the exact opposite.

I cocked and eyebrow before crossing my arms. “You want to try that again?”

I watched Jax face fall from confident to soft, the tight line that his lips were in, resting. “Look babe, this is some serious shit.” He leaned against his dresser, his eyes darting over my body. “The Irish are pissed, they are after us, and if I leave you alone for one second, they are going to come after you.” He crossed his arms, his muscles flexing with the movement.

I shook my head with disbelief. “You know I can take care of myself.”

He looked down at the ground and nodded before meeting my eyes. “I know, but I need you to have extra protection on this one.”

I ran my hand through my hair, torn on the situation.

I prided myself as someone strong, as someone that did not need a man to take care of her. People knew not to mess with me, long before I was with Jax Teller.

I bit my lip, rolling it between my teeth before nodding. “Alright.”

He raised one beautiful eyebrow in confusion. “Alright what darlin’?”

He was really going to make me say it.

“I’ll take the protection.” I nodded. “But after this is all over with Irish, I’m back on my own.”

He grinned before pushing himself off the dresser to plant himself in front of me. He knelt to my eye level before pressing his soft lips to mine.

I pushed his chest with a smile and shook my head, my hair flying in my face. “I gotta get home. Which one of the boys am I taking?”

“Chibs, for now.” He looked over me.

“Great.” I smiled and tried to look cheery as I got to my feet, even though I was anything but. “You coming back to my place tonight?”

He nodded and stood up straight. “I got a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll be there.”

I let out a breath before turning to the door, ready to get the hell out of here.

“Primrose.”

I turned only to have my neck gripped gently as Jax pulled me in a searing kiss, sending signals straight to my core.

Jax pulled back with a smile, before letting go. “I’ll see you later babe.”

I nodded breathlessly before scurrying out of the dorms and out to the bar where Chibs sat, nursing a beer.

I smiled at the man who only raised a brow at me.

“How many stitches does Jacky boy need this time?”

I only let out a chuckle and shook my head. “He got away scotch free this time.” I patted my hands on the bar. “You, my sir, get the honor of being my babysitter.”

“I can’t give myself stitches, ya know.” He taunted before setting his beer down. “I’m quite honored lass. Where do we need to go?”

Chibs and I were close, we teased and taunted each other, but I knew he had my back if anything went down.

“Home.” I nodded. “I want to go home, if you don’t mind hanging out at my place until Jax gets there.”

Chibs paused for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about it.

As if he had a choice.

“You got beer?” He smiled.

I rolled my eyes and patted his shoulder. “I have that and much more.” I wagged my brows.

He hopped up off his chair quicker than I could blink.

“Well, what are ya waiting for?”

I rolled my eyes and turned to the door, nodding at a couple of members to show respect.

“You want to tail me?” I asked as I headed straight to my little red car.

“Ya, I’ll be right behind ya.” He nodded.

“Awesome.” I hummed as I got into my car, pulling away from the club and out on the street, Chibs on my tail.

As I drove, I could not help but wonder if Jax was being a little too extreme. The other part of me was relieved to have someone keep an eye on me.

It was not that I couldn’t protect myself if the time needed, but it was nice to have some extra eyes to watch out for me.

As I fell deeper into my thoughts, I became oblivious to my surroundings, and the fact that Chibs was suddenly no longer behind me.

I looked in my rearview mirror as I came to a halt at a red light, wondering where the man could have gone?

I was about to pull out my cellphone, to call for Jax when my little car went spiraling, my head hitting the side of the window.

I was dizzy, my head was bleeding, and I was on the verge of passing out. It didn’t stop me from figuring out that I had been hit, but it slowed my thought process.

I was roughly pulled from my car, people were talking around me, but I couldn’t make what they were saying. There voices were muffled in my head, I tried to look at their faces, but they were masked.

“Get her in the fucking van!”

That was the last words I heard before blacking out.

When I came to, my head was killing me, and my body was aching.

I tried to move my hands to rub my blurry eyes, but they were firmly chained above me.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” I cursed.

“For such a pretty young thing, you sure as hell have a mouth on you.”

My head shot up at a masked man, who sat in a chair in front of me, watching me.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked as I pulled harder on the chains, nothing happening.

“You Jax Teller old lady?” He asked dumbly, making me roll my eyes.

“And if I am?” I questioned, trying to plant my dangling feet firmly on the ground.

“Then this is going to be even more fun.” He stood up from his chair, his tall figure looming over me, a small blade in his hand glistening in the light.

I felt fear shake its way down to my core, the closer he got.

He raised the blade pressing it to my jaw line and tracing it down all the way to my chest. His dark eyes watched my face, waiting for a reaction, but I did not give him one.

I knew better.

He scowled at me before cutting my shirt down the middle, so I was exposed to him.

“What should we start with, huh?” He asked before pressing the blade into my stomach.

I hissed in pain causing a delighted look to appear on his face before beginning to carve.

It wasn’t long until I was a bloody, tearful mess, but it felt like hours of searing pain.

The man stepped back and eyed my abdomen before grinning. “Perfect!” He looked up at me before stepping forward again to trace his blade down my jeans. “Now, what else should we do with you?” He hummed as he popped the top button of my jeans with a quick flick of his blade. “Should we have some fun?”

I felt the tears form in my eyes, as I knew what was coming next.

He had scarred me physically, but now he was going to scar me emotionally.

Gunshots fired in the room around us, making the man jump back.

“What the fuck!” He cursed, grabbing his gun from the waistband of his jeans before going towards the commotion.

I hung alone, now to weak to move.

Where was Jax?

“Primrose?” I heard Opie’s soft voice.

“Ope?” I called weakly, my hands shaking as above me.

The big bear came to stand in front of me, a soft look filling his face as he looked over me.

I knew I was a bloody mess, but the way Opie looked at me, made me feel so much worse.

“Get me down.” I begged, my voice breaking, seeming to snap him out of it.

He reached up above me, gently undoing the chains the best he could.

I let out a cry as the chains stuck to my skin, pulling it as he undid them.

Opie held me up as I fell from the chains, my body too weak to hold me up.

“Where’s Jax?” I asked, my emotions taking toll over me.

“I need to get you to the van.” Opie said as he looked around for a way out.

“No, no, I need Jax.” I begged, tears spilling from my eyes.

Opie glanced down at me before shaking his head. “Primrose, he’ll be out bu-“

“I need him.” I sobbed.

“Fuck.” Opie cursed before scooping me up in his arms, deciding it was best to carry me out.

Before I knew it, the sunlight was burning my eyes and I had to bury my face in Opie’s chest to keep it away. Little did I know, it was going to help me slip into unconsciousness.

Waking up in the hospital, scared me.

I felt alone and I feared the someone was going to hurt me again.

I began to panic and breathing became impossible.

I just wanted Jax. Where was my Jax?

The machines around me kept beeping, getting louder and quicker. It wasn’t long before nurses filled my room, trying to get me to relax.

“Jax!” I sobbed. “Where’s Jax?”

A hand made it’s way into mine, and squeezed tightly.

“I’m right here.”

I glanced up at the man I needed most, tears spilling from my eyes as the monitors slowed down.

“Jax.” I cried.

He leaned forward, kissing me softly before pressing his forehead into mine.

“I’m so sorry.” He let out softly, tears filling his own eyes.

The nurses seemed disperse as my heartrate slowed to normal, leaving Jax and I alone.

He ran his hand through my hair, comforting me through my pain.

“I shouldn’t have given you a hard time.” I let out softly.

He gave me a small sad smile and shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now. We need to get you better.”

“How bad?” I asked gently.

The smile on his face dropped, and a concerned look filled it. “Nothing a little rest won’t fix.” He leaned closer and kissed me again. “And this time I’m not going nowhere.” He squeezed my hand.

“But the club-“

He shook his head, silencing me. “The club will be fine. You are more important.”

I felt my heart swell at his words, but I knew the club was his world and I was just a piece of it. “I’m not going to make you choose between me and the club.”

“No one is asking you to.” He sighed. “Primrose, just let me take care of you, okay?”

I felt my eyes soften as I took in his state.

His normally slicked back blonde hair was wild, his eyes red as if he had been crying, and his whole body was tense.

I reached forward, cupping his cheek, letting my thumb run along his bottom lip softly. “Okay.”

He nodded before reaching for the hand that was on my face and kissing the knuckles. “Good, then you can go back to being the same pain in the ass as you’ve always been.” He smiled softly, but I could still see the pain in his eyes.

I let out a soft breath before nodding. “I think your life is going to get a little easier with me when I’m out.”

Jax rolled his eyes. “I doubt it babe, no matter what you do, you drive me wild.”

I chuckled softly, feeling my eyes start to droop. “Promise, you’ll be here when I open my eyes.”

Jax leaned forward and kissed my forehead as my eyes fully closed.

“I’m not going anywhere.”