#It just spiked this morning and I’ve been on edge since

[shima-draws]

Oooghhgjgh I can’t settle down please send some asks perhaps? 🙏

[ficclings]

Hybrid! Yunho OneShot

This hasn't been proof-read so I apologise for mistakes!

Reader - Bat Hybrid Yunho - Dog Hybrid A little something for Valentine's Day because I'm lonely.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

Yunho enjoyed being outside in the winter, the cold was a lot easier to escape than the humid, burning sun.

It was more the aesthetic of going to a coffee shop and cozying up by the window that he enjoyed but he still appreciated the beauty that came with the late season.

It was also the season that managed to spike his Hybrid senses into overdrive, making him hyper-aware of everybody around him and being on edge whenever somebody came near him; even his closest friends had to be careful in the winter which made having a Christmas gathering a little awkward with a Retriever Hybrid constantly trying to bite back his growls.

He hummed as he blew over the top of his coffee, the cold air brushing over his skin as a rather comforting contrast.

Work had gotten too stressful for him and so he had convinced himself to call in sick so he could relax for the day.

He would’ve loved to have a big old fireplace where he could just sit and relax at home but he was certain it would go against the safety code of the building.

Yunho licked his dry lips as he looked around for a spot to sit but ended up pouting when every table was taken, meaning he would have to take one of the outside tables in the freezing cold and he was certain he had heard of a possible snowfall today.

Making himself comfortable, he buried his face into his scar a little more and cuddled his coffee with his bare hands as he was an idiot that morning and forgot to bring his gloves.

His roommate, Wooyoung (a Peacock Hybrid) had even stuck a sticky note on the fridge about not forgetting them, but Yunho had walked straight passed the fridge in order to make the breakfast menu at the coffee shop.

Freshly made croissants were a weakness and Yunho just couldn’t resist.

“E-excuse me?”

Yunho looked up to find a woman shyly peering at him from within her own scarf cover, and tilted his head to the side as he desperately tried to calm his Hybrid half down.

“May I…may I sit here, there aren’t any spaces inside,” she was almost whispering as she spoke and her gloved fingers were clenching and unclenching in a clear attempt to calm her anxieties down; something that made Yunho’s heart ache for her ever-so-slightly.

“Go for it,” he invited with a friendly smile and his tail wagged when she smiled back at him.

Yunho watched her for a few moments, taking note of the unusual ears atop her head and the slight miscolouring of her eyes; he couldn't detect what Hybrid she was and even his Retriever side was confused.

“I’m a bat,” her voice made him jump and she giggled, hand coming up to her mouth as she did.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” Yunho could feel his ears turning red as he replied, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Bat Hybrid out and about,” he remarked bashfully as the woman bowed her head with a matching colour of her cheeks.

“It messes with our sense of direction,” she explained with a laugh, “the sun I mean, we’re all a little partially sighted so being nocturnal is just sensible,” she continued as she picked up her own beverage, a fruity herbal tea, and took a sip.

“Is it that hard with sun out?” Yunho pondered with a cute quirk of his eyebrows and a wiggle of his tail as he seemed to forget that agitation the season brought with it.

“I don’t even understand it myself but it is difficult to navigate with the sun, it hurts our eyes even when looking at the ground,” she playfully puffed her cheeks up in mock annoyance and Yunho felt his entire body suddenly flush with warmth and fluttering.

“Wow, the most I have to deal with is winter agitation and getting distracted by people playing football,” he muttered and grinned when the bat hybrid burst into a fit of laughter.

“I have heard of dog hybrids doing that!” she covered her mouth again and Yunho desperately wanted to take her hands away to see what she looked like when she laughed; even though he knew it would still look both adorable and beautiful at the same time.

“Have you ever chased after a ball?” she was now fully facing him now, fingers scratching at her cup of herbal tea and nibbling at her already sore bottom lip.

“I did when I was a lot younger,” he admitted with a cheeky grin, “my friend Hongjoong had to literally tackle me to the floor to stop me and even though he’s tiny, he managed to do it,” he smiled at the memory and took a mental note to call Hongjoong later that day to catch up on things.

“I can’t imagine anybody taking you down,” it seemed she said this without meaning to and covered her mouth once more but this time in embarrassment, “I-I mean, you’re so tall and things,” she nervously giggled and scratched at her fluffy ears.

“Well, Hongjoong can do anything,” he pointed out and felt a sting of pride for his older friend, “even take down a giant,” he added and they both fell into playful banter, the weather no longer an issue and the sun seemingly not able to blind the Bat from the stunning man across from her.

The next time Yunho bumped into her, was when he was fully decked out in pyjamas and a big puffy coat; having run out of instant noodles for his dinner, he had decided to just pop down to the shop near his apartment building.

The winter night was bitterly cold but the sweet Bat hybrid was also doing a bit of late night shopping, which she quickly explained was actually her morning shopping if you took into account that she was normally a fully nocturnal person.

They spoke for so long that the shop owner, who had the heaviest bags under his eyes Yunho had ever seen, finally asked them to leave.

Only when they had said goodbye to each other did Yunho realise that he had forgotten both his noodles and to ask her what her name was.

“Yunho!” Wooyoung’s voice sang from the living room, making the retriever grunt from his bed, nice and toasty from the cold.

“Yunho, my little puppy!” his door was pushed open with reckless abandon and he was suddenly attacked by the younger male, straddling him with a wild grin on his attractive face.

“I had a late night, please,” Yunho mumbled trying to hide his smile as Wooyoung proceeded to nuzzle into him lovingly, behaviour that he did everywhere that made people believe they were a couple.

“And why was that, lover boy?” Wooyoung let out a loud laugh and sat back up so he could look down at his friend, “I’m aware you were speaking with your precious little batgirl, but you don’t have to turn nocturnal yourself,” he poked Yunho’s cheeks before smooching them with an over exaggerated MWAH leaving his lips.

“Okay, okay, get the hell off me,” Yunho laughed as the peacock let out another laugh and finally released him.

“Oh, and just saying,” Wooyoung stopped at the bedroom door, “your little batgirl goes to your Internet Café,” he looked over his shoulder at his now blushing friend.

“How do you know?”

“Yunho, she is a nocturnal hybrid and that’s rare to see in the daytime; she stands out quite a bit when she decides to be a daywalker,” Wooyoung then threw him a flirty playful smile, “you owe me a kiss,”

With a big eyeroll, Yunho threw his pillow at him.

In hindsight, having a crush on a purely nocturnal person probably wasn’t a good idea when your own biology was catered to being awake during the daytime.

But he was determined to get to know her, desperately wanted to see if there was any sort of hope for something to blossom between them.

Yawning behind his large hand, he flopped down on one of the chairs in the café and tapped into the system so he could try to calm his nerves by playing a game.

He was halfway through a dungeon mission when his eyes caught movement by the window he was sat at and quickly typed to his teammates that he’ll be right back.

His tail started to wag violently at the sight of her making her way to a computer in the far corner, not even noticing a very happy retriever but this was understandable as he also noticed the small guide stick, she was holding to help her avoid bumping into things.

He spotted her pulling a controller out of her bag and plugged it into the back of her computer and his lips spread out into a wide grin.

She played games!

It was something else that they had in common and he had to hold himself back from immediately running over to her to ask a hundred questions.

He un-paused his game and continued to lead the march through the virtual dungeons as a powerful wizard; maybe this will help him calm down a bit more before he would even think of going over to her.

It ended up working a little too well as he got immersed in the world he had been playing for years; a frustrated groan leaving him when he died for fifth time in one of the hardest dungeons in the game and he pulled at his fluffy ear out of habit to try and stop himself from yelling at the screen.

“Do you need any help?” he just about jumped out of his skin and grabbed the front of his chest, coughing at the quick intake of breath he just took which in turn made the adorable bat panic and hold onto his hand as if he was dying.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” she squeaked and patted his back as his coughing slowed down.

“You’re a ninja,” he commented as he finally stopped coughing, “I’m okay,” he added with a blush when he noticed she was still holding his hand.

“Sorry,” she smiled a bit and sat down next to him, controller in her other hand, “um…I heard you earlier getting annoyed,” she giggled slightly.

“Oh uh,” his ears must be on fire right now, “yeah, we’re having a bit of trouble with this dungeon,” he explained with a pout making his ears droop and the sight made the bat smile warmly.

“Well, I know the Elf class can heal the team a bit but I think you need a full-on healer,” she pointed out and then bashfully pressed buttons on her unplugged controller, “I wouldn’t mind helping you,” she whispered making his heart skip a beat as he took in how she seemed to shrink in her shyness.

“I’d love that,” he smiled before quickly adding, “what’s your name?”

And finally, he got his answer.

Wooyoung smiled as he watched Yunho on his computer, headset on and fingers tapping quickly on the keyboard as he barked orders at his teammates but then had a very soft voice when asking for a bit of healing.

It was quite funny to hear and Wooyoung was tempted to record him just so that he could then show Yunho the double standards he had.

“Are you okay? I have protect ready to go,” Yunho’s voice was soft again and Wooyoung snickered into his bubble tea, pizza in the other hand threatening to let melted cheese fall onto his jeans.

“I said right!” Yunho’s ‘Captain’ voice came out, a heavy sigh falling from his lips as it did so, “don’t go off on your own, we have sixteen levels left!”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes but looked over his shoulder to watch his friend have a battle with himself as he both tried to order and flirt at the same time.

“Do you have a shield ready for us?”

Quiet.

“If you need help, I’m right next to you,”

Wooyoung’s high pitched laughter finally came out and he fell back on the sofa, the actions and sound making Yunho nearly drop his mouse.

“Oh my god, you are so down bad,” Wooyoung cried covering his face to try and silence his laughter, but it didn’t work, especially when Yunho gave him a death glare as he tried to cover up the microphone.

“Yunho, is everything okay?” Y/Ns voice was laced with worry, and he smiled shyly even though nobody could see him apart from the peacock (he was convinced Wooyoung was also part Hyena) on the sofa, “should we pause?” she added, and her character even turned towards his.

“No, no, I’m okay,” he chuckled, “just a film my roommate is watching,”

A little laugh came from his teammates, but it was Y/Ns that made him want to melt into his chair.

Wooyoung was convinced he was going to get himself slapped around the head the moment Yunho got off the game; he quickly sent a text to his friend Changbin, grabbed his keys, boxed his pizza up and took it with him out of the apartment.

“My heal is on cooldown so be careful!” Y/N’s voice came through his headset, “I have aura-heal but that means you’ll have to be stuck to my side,” she muttered clearly displeased with the fact her team couldn’t move freely.

“It’s alright, Y/N, I have potions!” came a response from the archer, Mingi, “I can heal myself,”

“Me too!” the tank, Seonghwa added making his character wiggle around in a playful manner.

“I have potions too and if anybody goes down, I have revivals,” Yunho slumped back on his seat as they all waited for the long loading screens to finish.

“You have revivals?” Y/N gasped with excitement, "I haven’t learnt that spell yet, you legend!” she giggled and he returned his hands to the keyboard as the loading screen finally finished, a fluttery feeling in his chest as eh found he liked the fact that Y/N could rely on him; even if it was just in a game.

“Don’t compliment him too much, his ego will get even bigger,”

“Shut up, Mingi,”

It wasn’t long after having regular game nights, that Yunho finally worked up the courage to invite her to his apartment; mostly to hang out but to also meet Wooyoung.

The thought terrified Yunho, not because he didn’t want them to meet, but because he knew Wooyoung was going to tease him relentlessly.

He supposed it was a blessing that she was quite literally a creature of the night and therefore she would be there quite late, meaning Wooyoung would most likely be in his room trying to sleep.

“You’re going to wear the floor out,”

Yunho flinched at the sound of the peacock’s voice.

“What?”

Wooyoung snorted before looking to his strange alcoholic beverage, plastic umbrellas decorating the rim.

“You’re walking up and down in the same spot, I’m surprised you haven’t worn the floor out and said hello to our downstairs neighbours,” Wooyoung took a sip of the bright green liquid and almost purred at the taste.

“I don’t know how to calm down,” Yunho muttered and as if on cue, he began pacing up and down the hall again.

“Yuyu,” Wooyoung grabbed his friend’s bicep and forced him to stop, “if this woman is as nice as you go on about, then stop worrying, she’ll just be happy to spend time with you,” he explained with a much more serious expression than Yunho was used to, but he appreciated that Wooyoung was genuinely trying to help him.

“Have this,” he offered his toxic looking drink and Yunho pulled a worried face that made the peacock laugh, “relax, it’s Lime-Melon Soda,” he grinned, “it only has a small amount of alcohol because I must get up early tomorrow,”

Yunho chuckled before taking a cautious sniff, decided it was fine and then had a small mouthful.

“Not bad,” he giggled before shyly pulling the other man into a hug, “thanks Woo,” he felt his tail wagging and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Damn thing always giving away how much he liked somebody.

“Just be calm around her, she’s a bat, right?”

Yunho nodded.

“So, she’s very aware of things around her,” Wooyoung then placed his hand on his own chest, “we gentle creatures are like that,”

This single comment sent Yunho into a fit of laughter with tears streaming down his face because out of all the words to describe his friend, gentle, would not be one of them.

“It wasn’t that funny!” Wooyoung shrieked before puffing his hair out of his face and walking into his room.

Once his laughter had finally stopped, he found himself staring right through the peephole to see if she was there yet almost jumping out of his skin when he realised that she was on the other side pacing just as he had been; clearly nervous herself.

“She’s here,” Yunho whispered before remembering that Wooyoung wasn’t beside him anymore.

He tried to focus on making sure that his tail wouldn’t wag when he heard her soft knocks on the door; taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open slowly to not startle her senses.

Her face practically lit up with both happiness and anxiety when they locked eyes.

“Come in, come in!” he ushered her inside and adjusted the heat in the apartment to making it slightly warmer.

If he was going to spend money on warming the place up, it was when Y/N was there.

“Wow is that your gaming area?” she gasped, and he couldn’t help but laugh when she practically hopped on her way to the set-up he had.

“Yeah, I have a set-up in my room as well,” he felt a little flustered admitting that he had a lot of gaming equipment but thankfully, she was also a very big gaming enthusiast.

“You’re so lucky, I can’t find the new Playstation anywhere,” she giggled and stroked the top of the machine, making Yunho flush as he thought about receiving a pet on the head from her.

“Well, he hunted it down,”

Both quickly turned to see Wooyoung peering out of his doorway at them with a knowing smirk on his lips.

“I’m Wooyoung, his roommate!” he explained and approached her with a slow pace.

“I’m Y/N, I’ve only heard you in the background when in games,” she admitted with a shy laugh.

“Because he’s a loudmouth,” Yunho commented and as if to prove his point, Wooyoun let out a shriek of denial.

“I’m the reasonable amount of volume, thank you very much, now I shall bid you good day,” he turned his nose up at them and strutted back to his room.

Y/N smiled up at Yunho once they were alone and he just about felt his heart plummet through his body as he realised why he had actually invited her.

“Um, would you like something to drink?” he stuttered and she nodded, fingers clutching her arm nervously.

“If you have anything blueberry flavoured,” she nibbled her lip as she walked towards the kitchen with him.

“I have a ramune,” he pulled it out of the fridge and handed it to her.

“Thank you!” she gasped and excitedly pressed the glass ball down to activate the drink, the bubbles jumping around her nose as she took a big gulp.

Yunho fixed himself an energy drink and they made themselves comfortable of the sofa, conversations about gaming and manga filling the air.

Both getting very expressive with their passion; Yunho was pretty sure that he’d never heard Y/N be this loud before.

“He was one of my first ever obsessions,” Y/N seemed surprised by her admission and buried her red face into the crook of her arm, “sorry, that was too much information,”

“Y/N, you seem to be forgetting that I have a poster of 2B from Nier on my wall,” he pointed out and nodded his head in the direction when she looked up.

“I guess we both enjoy pixel people,” Y/N snorted and took another gulp of her drink.

“Yeah, but having somebody real is good too,” Yunho chuckled and shuffled around on the sofa, so he was completely facing her.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly and Yunho watching as several emotions washed over her face; her ears twitching in thought, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

Y/N took a deep breath and locked eyes with him, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I don’t…” she paused, “I don’t know how to do this,” she laughed anxiously, “but I uh…” her eyes dropped from his and she almost seemed to curl into herself.

“Take your time,” Yunho encouraged as he heard his blood pump in his ears loudly.

“I really like you, Yunho,” she whispered with a shaky voice, “I don’t want to lose you as a friend though,” she added quickly, using her hair to try and cover her bashful expression.

Yunho all but started to choke on his own spit, causing Y/N to burst into panic and quickly rushed to get him a glass of cold water.

“Are you okay?!” she squeaked and handed him the glass, patting his back as he tried to get his breath back.

“M’fine,” he coughed and cleared his throat several times, hands shaking as he took a few sips of water, “I’m so, so fine,” he continued and gently pulled her down to his level, “I really like you too,” he finished with another clearing of his throat before pulling her towards him and gently kissing her.

Yunho’s large hands pulled her next to him on the sofa, where he then laid them on her waist and the back of her neck.

Y/N shivered as she tried to keep up with him, not experienced in these matters, but she practically beamed with pride when Yunho let out a small moan when her small fangs bit down on his bottom lip.

Her hands fixed either side of his neck, thumbs stroking the side of his face, an action that truly made Yunho feel treasured and it made his tail thump against the sofa; causing them both to start laughing into the kiss.

“Sorry, has a mind of it’s own,” Yunho grinned brightly when he noticed how out of breath she was.

“It’s cute,” she replied and brushed her fingers down it and took note of how Yunho sounded as if he was going to start choking again.

“Are we…” Yunho started as their lips met once again, “are we together now?” he groaned as Y/N’s arms threw themselves around his neck.

“I wouldn’t kiss anybody I wasn’t wanting a relationship with, silly pup,” she playfully bit his jaw, and it took everything in the dog hybrid to hold his hips from jerking upwards at the action.

“Good! Hopefully he’ll stop being a whining moron now!”

Y/N started to laugh again as Yunho let out a growl of annoyance and rested his head on the back of the sofa; the atmosphere changing in an instant.

“I’ll steal your feathers and sell them!”

[feverishly-kpop]

Ateez - Flu - Part 6

It was noon by the time Seonghwa returned with Yunho in tow. Hongjoong popped his head out of his bedroom, dismayed to find his dongsaeng still flushed with fever but took solace in the fact that the glaze in his eyes had lightened up since the prior day.

“He’s doing a lot better, Joong” Seonghwa reassured upon noticing the concern on Hongjoong’s face as Hongjoong joined him in the living room. “His temperature is down and he has some meds to keep it that way, but they said the fever won’t break for another few days. The meds have been knocking him out straight away though so that’s something.”

Yunho groaned at the reminder, the fever taking its toll on him and his brain feeling scrambled and groggy from his medication.

“I’ll put him to bed” Seonghwa said as he wrapped an arm around Yunho’s shoulder. “Can you grab him a bottle of water?”

Hongjoong made it to the kitchen before his vision blurred, a reminder of the illness that was setting in with no regard for the fact he had sick kids to take care of. He took a few moments to collect himself, letting the dizzy spell pass for the time being.

Once Yunho was settled in Seonghwa and Hongjoong collapsed on the couch, both clearly exhausted.

“Did you sleep last night?” Hongjoong broke the silence, already knowing the answer.

Seonghwa shook his head as he rubbed his eyes harshly. “His nurse wanted me to go home for the night but I didn’t want him to wake up alone.” Hongjoong nodded in understanding at that. He would have done the same thing. “I tried to sleep in the chair but I couldn’t get comfortable. How about you? How are Mingi and Wooyoung doing?”

Hongjoong sighed before responding. “Mingi is Mingi. He wants nothing to do with anybody right now. I’ve been forcing tablets and water into him. He’s not very happy with me right now. And Wooyoung…” his voice trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I tried to get him to sleep in San’s bed and have San stay with Yeo and Jongho but he ended up in bed with me.”

Seonghwa glared at him with disapproval. Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was concerned about him coming down with the flu too, but Seonghwa also had no idea that that ship had already sailed.

“Don’t look at me that way, Hwa. Please.” Hongjoong said defensively. “It was either that or stay up with him all night while he cried. This flu is no joke.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, the tension in the room building by the moment. “Yeah, I’m fully aware, believe it or not, after spending the night in the fucking hospital with Yunho teetering on the edge of what could have been a dangerous fever. But thank you for the reminder.”

Even in his current state Hongjoong could sense that this interaction was devolving into something that he didn’t have the capacity to deal with at the moment. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You need to get some sleep now though.”

“Shit…no, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick a fight…I’m just…yeah I need sleep” Seonghwa quickly agreed. “Please wake me up if you need me though” he added as he trudged off to bed.

*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of the front door opening startled San awake. Seonghwa had his hands full with Yunho and didn’t even seem to notice San, who had taken up residence on the couch.

Wooyoung had kept San and Hongjoong up for the better part of the night and into the early hours of the morning as his fever spiked and the body aches set in. Hongjoong had finally gotten him settled into San’s bed, hoping that keeping Yunho and Wooyoung together and Mingi isolated in his own room would prevent further spread but, by the time Hongjoong carried Wooyoung off to his shared room with Seonghwa, San wasn’t sure where he should sleep. His own room was out of the question, his bedding damp from Wooyoung’s sweat and tears, and he wasn’t sure when Yunho would be coming home and in need of his own bed.

He briefly considered Wooyoung’s bed before pausing. Yeosang and Jongho were the only members that hadn’t been exposed to the flu yet and San had spent the day with Wooyoung. Not wanting to risk it, San made his way to the couch before collapsing into a deep sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~

San quickly sat up and vacated the couch, his mind still hazy with sleep, catching Seonghwa’s attention as he emerged from Yunho’s room.

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, Sannie” Seonghwa said with an exhausted smile as he closed the door behind him. “You look tired. There’s no schedules today, why don’t you get a little more sleep?”

San shrugged in response. “I was napping with Wooyoung when he woke up feeling sick so…I can help you and Hongjoong-hyung since I’ve already been exposed.” San immediately regretted mentioning that to Seonghwa as concern crossed his hyung’s face. He immediately spoke up again, hoping to put Seonghwa at ease. “I’m feeling totally fine, don’t worry!”

It seemed to be enough to placate Seonghwa for the time being. “Well please tell me if you start feeling sick, okay?” San nodded quickly in response before Seonghwa continued. “I hate to ask you, but would you mind going out to the store to get a box of popsicles? Yunho was asking for one on the way home and I gave him Yeosang’s last one yesterday but if it will keep him cool and hydrated…” The speed with which Seonghwa was speaking continued to increase until San interjected.

“What puppy wants, puppy gets” San said with a reassuring smile, grabbing his wallet and heading for the door.

*~*~*~*~*~

“Mingi, let me in please” Hongjoong hissed through Mingi’s door, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping members.

He was about to knock again when he felt a vibration coming from his pocket. Hongjoong rolled his eyes as he opened the text from Mingi:

“Let me sleep.”

Hongjoong was about to protest when he received a second message. A picture of an empty bottle of water with a mostly full bottle next to it.

“At least let me check your…” he was once more cut off, this time by a second picture of a thermometer reading 38.1°.

With that Hongjoong admitted defeat. “Please let me know if you need anything.” After glancing into his own room and confirming that Seonghwa and Wooyoung were still both fast asleep and wrapping an ice pack around the back of Yunho’s hand where the IV needle had been inserted in hopes that it would dull the pain that he was complaining of, Hongjoong stepped into the washroom, locking the door behind him. It took a moment of shuffling to find another thermometer in the medicine cabinet but upon locating it behind a box of bandages he popped it under his tongue. He cringed at the quick beeps that signaled a fever before he could even look at the reading. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know that he was feverish and he was fully aware that sleeping in close proximity to his own personal little space heater, Wooyoung, hadn’t helped at all, but he hadn’t expected his temperature to be 38.5°.

A cough coming from Yunho’s room quickly drew him back to reality. Knowing it was only a matter of time until he was needed again, he quickly swallowed a few of the fever reducers that he had left on the vanity that morning and turned on the shower, opting to take a fast lukewarm shower in hopes that it would get his fever down enough to continue with his day relatively uninterrupted.

If there was anything that Hongjoong was acutely aware of, however, was that no aspect of his life was ever uninterrupted, and a quiet knock on the door reminded him that this situation was no different.

“I’m just getting out of the shower” Hongjoong responded with a sigh as he turned the water off, doing his best to hide the way his teeth were chattering.

“Hyung” the knocking continued as Yeosang’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.

“Yeosang, please give me five minutes” Hongjoong sighed, doing his best to control his temper. Of course he loved Yeosang, but knowing him he’d be asking where the cereal was or confirming tomorrow’s schedule despite Hongjoong having reviewed it twice with him the day prior.

“Hyung, it’s important…its…”

Hongjoong had had enough. Hastily wrapping a towel around his waist, he swung the door open, prepared to lay into Yeosang about respecting one another’s space and about actually listening to what other people were saying. But those thoughts melted away as he found Yeosang awkwardly holding up San as San awkwardly held up a box of popsicles.

“What puppy wants…” San started before interrupted momentarily with a cough. “…puppy gets” he finished, quickly swinging his arm around to hand Yunho’s popsicles to Hongjoong before leaning a little more heavily into Yeosang.

“Sorry, I’m just a little dizzy all of a…” but before San could finish, his eyes rolled back as the rest of his body weight sunk into Yeosang’s arms.

It took a moment for Hongjoong’s fever-addled brain to comprehend what had happened. And even when he realized that San had fainted, it still took his mind another moment to move on from the first and only thought to cross his mind:

Oh. Fuck.

[envihellbender]

Part two of TMP Gerry and Michael? o:

Characters: Michael Shelley, Gerry Keay (The Magnus Protocol / Archives)

Part one

Michael stared at Gerry’s neck from the moment they sat down. They didn’t normally notice things, they knew them, but they didn’t see them. However, right now it was clear as day, a strange grey pattern showing spikes all twisted together like a braid. It was strange, because it looked just like what someone they knew from the Institute used to doodle everywhere… But he wasn’t dead. Michael couldn’t explain how they knew, they just felt him still. But he wasn’t really here, he was distant, he hadn’t shown any interest in Michael and Gerry since they left.

“Have you only ever had the dead speak through you? Never had someone alive?” Michael asked suddenly, throwing Gerry who did a double take and began chewing his thumb anxiously. They felt guilt twist in their gut, perhaps they shouldn’t have been quite so blunt.

“Yep. No one else. Just the dead,” he mumbled, clearly wanting this conversation to be over.

“Because your latest one isn’t from a ghost,” Michael pressed, Gerry hadn’t noticed the new tattoo. It must be recent, so much so they didn’t see it in the mirror that morning. Gerry’s spine stiffened and he stared for a moment. Michael waited patiently, understanding that Gerry needed a moment. It was a rather strange day, Michael thought, he woke up feeling much less floaty and distant, with the other Michaels in his mind actually behaving themselves. That was good, absolutely, it meant he could fully appreciate every single one of Gerry’s freckles, but it was… odd. It was unprecedented. It felt strangely heavy. As if his body had tripled in weight and he could feel the air tightly around his body. And now it seemed Gerry’s situation was different to. Something was wrong.

“My neck,” Gerry said quietly, his hands instinctively touching his throat. “It’s… fuck!” He said suddenly pulling his hand away, he grew pale and his eyes widened as drops of blood appeared on his fingers. Michael reacted quickly, which was something they never did. They grabbed the serviettes and wrapped them around Gerry’s fingers. “It’s sharp. Really sharp. Like… like when I jabbed myself when doing your T shot.” The both of them were silent on edge, neither of them wanted to say it, did they even need to? Michael thought.

“My head… it’s quieter. There’s only- there isn’t one me but it’s like there’s a lot of me all hanging around in a living room and I’m leading the conversation.”

“That’s good! That’s really good,” Gerry said, unable to repress his wide smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is but-” Michael squirmed, they wrapped their arms around themselves. “I’ve been like this most of my life. Ever since the experiments when I was five. And now I’m… Different? It’s good. In some ways. Things are clearer. Easier. But it’s … it’s different. And it doesn’t feel… It’s-”

“Like you’re a drummer who’s been asked to be lead guitar and everyone acts like you’re always the one who shreds?” Gerry suggested with a shrug.

“I- yes. That- yeah that is- that’s a good analogy,” Michael said, eyes focusing on Gerry’s hands which seem to still be bleeding. It wasn’t enough to be worrying, just enough to be strange. “Have your markings- have they… reacted to stimuli before?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Gerry furrowed his light eyebrows as if trying to remember the sensation. “Usually it’s like… temperature. Like it’s warm or cold. Usually there are thoughts alongside it. That was just a prick and the sound of giggling.”

“You don’t think…” Michael began, they swallowed and wrapped their dufflecoat around themselves protectively.

“Our childhood friend from the Institute, the stabby one, is back?” Gerry’s tone was sardonic and a little bitter, mostly he sounded cheerful, happy, as a default. Occasionally a slither of dark humour struck through.

“Friend is a stretch.”

“Maybe he’s dead and this is how he’s letting us know.”

“Hm. No, I don’t- I don’t think so.”

“Well, look,” Gerry sighed and smiled. He leant forward, his eyes bright and optimistic. As was his way, for better or worse. “Right now all he’s giving me is this dangerous albeit slightly sick neck tattoo. So, wait for him to find us?”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Not sure we’ve got an alternative. Besides, GG’s got the security up pretty high.”

“Hm. I’d prefer it if I could keep you safe,” Michael said with their teeth pressed into their bottom lip, their eyes widening with worry. Gerry stared for a moment, he blinked a little rapidly, stunned. Michael supposed they didn’t usually speak so openly about their feelings, they usually couldn’t.

“I- well- I mean- what, move in together?”

“Maybe?”

“I- maybe if one of my paintings sells big, babe,” Gerry joked with half a smile, he was clearly worried about the change in demeanour, and honestly so was Michael.

[hyuge]

I Do

The pianist in the corner plays a soft, loving melody, their fingers dancing over the keys with all the grace and elegance of a seasoned ballet dancer. Flowers adorn the front of the church sanctuary and guests sit in the hard, wooden pews, whispering to one another. Katsuki looks out at all their friends and family gathered as he holds the sheet of paper in his trembling handles. He’s prepared for this, but it still fills him with anxiety. Eijirou is the love of his life, and he needs to get his feelings across just right. Their moms are in the front row, sniffling softly on opposite sides of the aisle. Katsuki’s father nods his head encouragingly.

He glances down at the three-piece suit he’s chosen to wear for this day. There’s not a single wrinkle in sight as he meticulously ironed it that morning before making his way to the church. It’s black with a white dress shirt and red vest and tie. Eijirou’s favorite. Katsuki’s heart aches as his gaze flicks to Eijirou’s peaceful face. He looks perfect as always. His hair is spiked up in the front but cropped short in the back. There was an argument with the others on whether or not his hair should be spiked as it’s not very formal, but Katsuki stood firm. On a day like today, Eijirou should be allowed to unabashedly be himself.

Eijirou has a gray suit on. His hands are folded together against his stomach and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He has makeup on, but it’s done in a way that suits him perfectly. It’s not too much and it’s not too little. There’s a touch of color on his cheeks and lips, and thin black wings fan out above his eyes. With his hair spiked up, Katsuki can see the scar on Eijirou’s eyelid clearly. Time has made it fade and shrink but it remains a permanent reminder of how their quirks can both help and hurt those around them.

Katsuki swallows the lump in his throat and unfolds the paper. He’s had it for so long that it’s worn with age, but the black ink is still legible. He forgot how much he wrote. Honestly, Katsuki could draft an entire novel of all the reasons he loves Kirishima Eijirou, and it still wouldn’t be long enough to properly convey his feelings. Condensing it down to a single page was harder than becoming the number one hero. He wasn’t into poetry and all that shit, but he would write sonnets if it meant Eijirou knew exactly how much he meant to Katsuki. He always thought those stupid puzzle-piece metaphors were sappy, cliché bullshit, but it’s true. Kirishima Eijirou is the piece that completes his. They are meant to spend the rest of their lives together. Anything else is unacceptable.

A hot tear tracks down his cheek and drips onto the paper as he sucks in a breath, willing the words to escape him. He stares at Eijirou and bites his lip, then begins to read:

“Ei, we’ve known each other since we were fifteen years old, and I’ve known I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you since I was sixteen. It’s insane how much I fucking love you.”

He glances up at the priest standing beside him. “Sorry, Father.”

The priest inclines his head for Katsuki to continue.

“You push me to be a better version of myself every day. I’ve done a lot of growing over the years and none of it would have happened if you hadn’t bulldozed your way into my life, loudly declaring that we were friends, even when I was an asshole and adamant on not needing friends.”

Their guests chuckle, likely thinking about how boisterous Eijirou was back then. Katsuki continues.

“You fill my life with so much light and warmth. Every morning that I wake up to your smiling face is a good morning. Every night that I see you when I come home from work and before I go to bed washes away the stress of the day. Hero work is so stressful but there you are, offering a massage or to cuddle—anything to take the edge off. You have always been my unbreakable horse. You’re the immovable object in my life but I also don’t want to even consider moving you. You anchored yourself within me. You’re my sounding board, my best friend, the love of my life, the man I want to marry and spend my future with.

“Every moment without you feels like I’m walking on a bed of nails. I would rather—”

Katsuki chokes on a sob.

“I would rather never know what love felt like than know what love without you feels like. I know our friends and family will be laughing at me for years to come over these vows but that’s how much I love you. I don’t care about the stupid jabs and jibes they make at my expense. You make me want to live, and every day that I get to be with me makes me glad that I was born. It makes me glad that I wanted to be a hero. If I didn’t, then I never would have met you at UA and we never would have ended up… ended up here today.”

He lifts his gaze from the paper to Eijirou’s face. Their matching rings sparkle in the light of the sanctuary and the stained-glass windows cast a blue-green hue on Eijirou’s restful face. He’s too at peace as he lays there in the coffin. It’s not fair. Katsuki has already read these vows to Eijirou once on the day of their wedding, but he felt it necessary to read them to him again today at his funeral. He had no way of writing a proper eulogy for his husband. The only words he ever wants to say to him are how much he loves him.

Katsuki violently wipes the tears from his face with the back of his hand. “Today is the day we finally unite as one but in reality, we’ve been united since we first fought together during the attack on the USJ that first week of high school. We worked in perfect harmony back then and it was the start of something incredible.

“So, I vow to always be by your side and protecting your back. I’ll cook while you clean. I’ll love you until we’re both old and gray and full of wrinkles and can’t stand each other’s old-man smell. I’ll make you soup when you’re sick, just like I know you’ll do the same for me. We’ll spend our days off lazing about the apartment or camping or hiking. I vow to count all the stars in the night sky with you, explaining what each one is and how many years it would take to get there. And even when I’ve used my last breath, I’ll still take one more to tell you I love you. Because Kirishima Eijirou, I’ll be damned if there’s anyone else I would rather spend the rest of my life with. It’s you and me always and forever. Katsuki and Eijirou. Eijirou and Katsuki.

“Til death do us part.”

Katsuki crumples the worn-out sheet of notebook paper in his fist as he jams it in his pocket. His shoulders shake as the sobs wrack his body now. He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he approaches the casket, ignoring the crowd of people that are either waiting for him to continue speaking or to step off the stage and allow someone else to go. Katsuki grips the edge of the casket for support and sniffles. Tears spill onto Eijirou’s lifeless form, and Katsuki gives his husband’s hand a squeeze.

“I’m so mad at you,” he says. “You weren’t allowed to leave me, not like this. We were supposed to have our whole lives together so why was your life so short?”

He chokes on a sob and pulls the wedding vows back out of his pocket, placing them under Eijirou’s hand. Katsuki waits for a moment, expecting Eijirou to squeeze his hand and tell him everything is going to be all right but when nothing happens, he turns away without another word and moves back to the pews to sit between his parents who hold him close as he cries into his mother’s chest like he’s done so many times as a child.

Kaminari goes to the stage. His usual energetic aura is replaced with a more somber one as he tells a story in vivid detail about Eijirou saving him while they were working. Katsuki tunes it out. He has no interest in what anyone else has to say about his husband. He just sits there quietly crying as his mother and father soothe him, rubbing their hands up and down the length of his back and whispering about how he will eventually move on from this. Today is for grieving. Tomorrow is for the future.

Written for the @ficwip Dark & Cozy challenge. You can also read it on AO3.

[shadow0haven]

10 Stories/10 First Lines Tag Meme

craTagged by @once-upon-a-reblog !

Going to try and tag a few people here, but if I tag you and you’ve done this before, feel free to ignore my ping! (And if you don’t have ten stories for ten lines, feel free to make up the rules!)

So I’m tagging @bluejayblueskies and @organchordsandlightning because both of them have such lovely fics and you should honestly check them out! (Lots of TMA and Malevolent from them, and more!)

@captaincravatthecapricious and @magnetarmadda with quite a few wonderful fics I have definitely not read more than once. Coughs.

So the rules are: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories.

(I’m going to cheat just a bit because if I only post my last ten pieces, then it’s ALL Malevolent. Which isn’t a bad thing but I want some variety for this xD I’ve also tagged stories if they are explicit or mature content)

House of Memory || The Magnus Archives

“Together?”

“One way or another. Together.”

“Wherever you go, I go.”

Everything hurt. Memories kept coming in flashes, blinding and bright, as he jolted upright with his head in his hands. He cradled his face carefully and took in a long breath. Martin sprung upright with a cry of pain. It was so loud, the pain coursing through his skull. His vision was near pure white as the spikes of pain shot through his skull at being brought into a sitting position.  God, it hurt. It hurt way too much, like he was being struck by lightning over and over.

The Unfortunate Turning of a Page || The Magnus Archives

Most everything in the Archives had started out as normal as any other day. Jon, Martin, Sasha, and Tim had all been researching a case. There had been a bit of a commotion when there got word that an item had gone missing from Artifact storage. Without that, things had been generic. It was the same thing, different day.

The days had just gone odd after he had been doing research in the library. He had only been looking for some information on a case about someone going ‘mad’ after reading a book. There wasn’t much on it. After that visit, things were… off.

Don’t Forget The Loss || Malevolent

John had just set out clothes for Arthur in the shared motel room. Arthur had asked him to pick out some clothing for him and put it out for him. Both men had finally gotten a chance to bathe, rest, and take a moment for themselves.

Sure, it was odd. Having his own body was uncomfortable. John felt... empty. Like something was missing a lot of the time.

Find Me In The Aftermath || Malevolent

It had been a handful of weeks since his encounter with the King in Yellow. John was gone as far as he knew. He hadn’t heard even the slightest bit of noise in the back of his mind that he was sure wasn’t his own. His sight was permanently gone, barely a sliver of it left besides shadows. Arthur had managed thus far on his own.

When I Wake, We’ll Be Okay || Malevolent

Once they had escaped from the cult hotel and been able to procure a different identity, John and Arthur had gotten a small flat for rent and been able to get away from most supernatural entities. John was not included. It had been tough, but they both survived. That’s what counted. Arthur had insisted on staying on the outskirts of Arkham while John insisted that they go farther away. It had been a bit of arguing back and forth before they agreed to stay on the outside of Arkham. Arthur wanted to be able to be close to sources he might need.

An Early Morning Coffee || Malevolent (Mature)

It was different waking up with someone. The warm weight next to him in bed was something so grounding, the shift of the covers and the inhale and exhale of each breath, and the contact of skin against his own. Even though it was new and foreign, it was good. It felt right. He could even say it was one of the better things he could ever remember of his life, and the now with his human body.

Pursuing The Edge || Malevolent (Explicit)

Bringing John back to Arthur or being able to give him a body of his own had been the task way back when, trying to give them both the freedom and the choice. All the time through The Dreamlands had been that kind of ideation: save themselves and start a new life whether that was to work through what they had suffered together back in the human world in one body, or together in two separately.

They had been successful.

Gingerly Held || Malevolent

John said it all started out with a tickle.

It had originally been in passing. Arthur had ended up making some tea for John and nothing more was mentioned of it for the rest of the day. Arthur thought nothing of it. He figured it had been John worrying over his human experience. John was being John.

Warmer Are The Waters With You || Malevolent (Explicit)

All he had wanted at this point was some time to himself. The springs were always so welcoming, their hot waters always soothed his aches from nose to toe-tip. It was perfect, especially in the smaller alcoves of the huge bathhouse, a little safe haven for him to have for himself. And he had after hours access.

Ground Coffee and Fresh Tea || Malevolent

There was no in-between with Arthur, John had noticed. The man was either going eighty miles a minute or he dragged himself through the day with John urging him to do what needed to be done. Except with his early routine. Arthur always seemed… hurried. Restless. He bustled through his morning. Like if he didn’t get things done in a timely manner it would spell the end for him.

John would often observe and wonder what in the world this man was in a rush for.

[lookatlavender]

hello sweet one 💫 i took a little time off tumblr and your reply to my ask and your post about your last couple ruins were quite a lovely welcome back.

so many good thoughts here. how lovely of you to offer that i put that spiked collar on you. once you hard earned all the clamps on your pussy i might just put it on you. i wonder if it has an adjustable size? i’d put it in on the widest notch first so you don’t even feel all the spikes and then each time you ruin i’d close it a little tighter until you were begging me to stop. maybe you’d be begging me to start putting clamps on your nipples instead, or maybe you’d be asking me to stop touching you so you stop adding time to your denial. My tongue on your tdick between all the clamps would be all soft and gentle.

I’d take off all your clamps while you fuck me so you can feel all sensitive but i’d definitely keep that collar on you. And yeah, the idea of you being all stretched open and fucking me and so completely denied ……. does a lot for me. Knowing you’ve given up all your pleasure to make me cum. Maybe I’d try to train you so you automatically bring me the numbing cream when you want to fuck me. I’d switch it out for arousal gel every now and again without telling you (if we talked about it beforehand 💞) just to mess with your head sometimes 💗

i also really liked reading about your last few ruins. i’d have loved to be there with my fingers down your throat to give you everything you were fantasizing about. 💖💞💫

hello 😊💖 as always, i’m glad you enjoy hearing about my adventures 🤭

☺️☺️☺️ the collar is adjustable, on the loosest setting you can’t really feel the spikes in a painful way, but even one notch in and they’re painful. i think there’s 4-5 notches too, so it would be almost unbearable by the last one. i think i’ve gotten it about halfway tightened before, never managed to get it all the way though. once i had the collar tight i’d barely even be thinking about the clamps you had on me, just trying not to ruin again so the collar doesn’t have to get any tighter. i’d beg you to slow down, let me breathe for a second so i can back down from the edge. maybe you would be nice and take you tongue off my tdick, maybe you wouldn’t. i would just have to beg pretty enough, i suppose, that my begging was more of a show than a ruin would be

wearing the collar while i fucked you afterward would make me so feral too, the pain combined with the high of fucking into you while i’m all subby from your teasing would drive me so wild. i’d be trying so hard to focus on pleasing you, trying to work past the sensation of the collar and the strap driving into you and ignore the urge to chase my own pleasure.

i bet you’d train me so well to do just that too, since it’s one of your favorite things. whether you trained me to hold my pussy open, or trained me with the numbing cream, or both. i know it wouldn’t take long for you to melt my little brain and turn me into your edging toy to tease endlessly. when you “surprised” me with the arousal cream it would be fun too, just an added sadistic twist to make it even harder to ignore my need to cum for you.

i’m glad you enjoyed the write up of my last ruins 🤭 i might as well update you on my no-touch ruins as well, since I finished them today. all of the first ones were pretty similar, with me grinding my legs together, groping with my tits and playing with my nipples, and thinking about whatever fantasy was getting me turned on that day. the first couple were at work in the bathroom, and the fantasies were very…degrading, to say the least. i’ve been very into that and humiliation for the last few weeks. not so much verbally, but just..being made to do things that are degrading. having to crawl to people, being a human ashtray, having to lick boots clean 🙈🙈 honestly the list goes beyond that but i like to leave a little mystery here and there 🤭 the other ruins i was in bed, worked up in the morning one day. i was grinding for hours, for a little while on my pillow, and finally when i had edged myself to exhaustion i rolled over to sleep. of course once i had given up i relaxed enough and started getting worked up again, and a minute or so later i was ruining, legs spread while i was gasping and twitching through one of the heaviest ruins i’ve had in a while. still not as satisfying as a full orgasm, but it was enough to knock me out for a morning nap afterwards

the last ruin i did was different, since i thought it was boring to be ruining the same way over and over again. i’ve never done it before, but I decided to ruin while grinding on the corner of a table. i have a small desk in my room and while i was home alone i stripped down to my panties and started grinding on the corner. i hadn’t touched myself yet that day so i was already kind of hard. at first i couldn’t catch a good angle, and i was getting frustrated trying to grind my pussy when i wasn’t getting any sensation. but eventually i angled my hips down, and the corner of the table skirted right across the shaft of my tdick. it caught me so off guard i kinda jolted and almost lost hold of the corners of the desk 🤭 it was kind of hard to keep the right angle, but eventually i managed it and was able to build towards cumming. the angle almost felt more like fucking than grinding which was honestly really hot, and is definitely part of what got me there. once i finally managed to tip over the edge it was hard to force myself to pull back, but i reminded myself that i wanted to be good for everyone so i made myself stop 🙈🙈

now i have the last 10 ruins left, which i’m going to force myself to do all in one sitting. my goal is to stretch myself up to a decently sized toy to cockwarm, and then i’ll use the hitachi to make myself ruin 10 times before i’m allowed to pull off. i won’t be allowed ti move or fuck myself on the toy at all, just have to sit all the way down on it and feel so full while my pussy ruins around it over and over 🤭 even the thought of that is making me so fucking horny rn 🙈🫠

(i plan to film the last 10 ruins so i can post it on a few different sites, so a little extra time and planning is gonna go into that before i can do it and get a write up made. i’m hoping to do it next week right around this time tho!)

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Fifth Anniversary (Epilogue)

I

Six in the morning. Sun creeping in through the windows. Brayli sleeping soundly next to me, and the sounds of seabirds barely breaching the closed window next to me. A special day; we’ve been together five years. We couldn’t get an official marriage license for obvious reasons, and we’ve never lived together on a planet that actually lines up with Coruscant Standard Time, but my insistence on keeping track doesn’t bother her.

Been just a little under two years that we’ve lived here. She kept talking about how much she’d like to sit on a beach with me, so I worked double time to save up enough credits for a seaside property in the outer rim as a surprise for our third anniversary. Took an hour of insisting that the new blaster sling she bought me was just as good.

Spilled a lot of blood to get here, not a drop I regret. Couldn’t go legal with the hunts, but I could afford to be selective: nobody innocent, or trying to break from the life. I imagine the waves have washed it away by now anyway.

Vranki was disappointed to see me go, but considering how much of that work I did was for her, she didn’t begrudge me. Haven’t really kept up with her, but from what Jaxon tells me she’s doing well. Folded her operation in with his for security’s sake, and her girls have never been safer. She says my legacy inspires her men, for whatever that’s worth.

Since they’ve hardly got any law to speak of anyway, Jaxon figured he might as well make his own. I’m sure he’s embellishing a bit, but from everything he says it seems to be working out: plenty of volunteers who are sick of getting mugged, which is good because half of his father’s old men quit when he started telling them they couldn’t terrorize people any more. Good kid.

I didn’t think she could get prettier than she was when we first met, but the ocean climate has been great for Brayli’s skin. Brighter coloration, softer texture, and her head tentacles have gotten a bit bigger. She says it’s taken a lot of aches and pains out of her too. She says even I’ve gotten a little softer around the edges, though I can’t really tell.

We both took the day off. I put the bounty hunting behind me when we moved, this place isn’t as lawless as Doobinth. Not Imperial, some local government that’s just a tributary – but I figured I’d have ended up in jail if I kept working.

Didn’t think I had any other marketable skills at first. Tried to learn Brayli’s trade, but whenever a customer raised their voice with her I could feel my blood pressure spike as I came over. She said that sweet as it was, towering over rude customers was bad for business, and putting up with them was just part of the job.

Wanted to open up a self defence class, but we talked it over and figured that someone might recognize the techniques, start asking about where I learned them. Decided to open a blaster service shop instead, right next door to her speeder shop. I thought my squad mates could be neglectful in their maintenance: every other month I have to tell someone they’d be better off throwing their blaster out and buying a new one.

For as wonderful as living with her has been, some of the adjustments to civilian life have been hard. I’ve spent so long interacting with the public primarily through intimidation and force that it’s been hard to stop. We figured that those impulses would fade once I got out of bounty hunting, picked up a new life – I even cut the practice from my daily workouts – but it’s all still there.

A speeder will backfire when we’re in public and I’ll start a threat assessment, I’ll feel my hands creeping towards my belt for a blaster that isn’t there when someone raises their voice to me, and when someone pointed a blaster at me a few months ago trying to rob my shop – all I can remember is the police needing to call an ambulance.

I started practicing again after that. It takes the edge off – reintroduces discipline to those instincts. Even taught Brayli a few of the basics, just enough to defend herself. She never needs it though, always manages to deescalate things with a joke or a laugh. I tried learning how, but it never seems to come out right. It’s easier to keep them under control when she’s around.

II

Brayli always felt rushed when I meticulously planned out our holidays, so nothing special today. We’re making a nice breakfast, then maybe we’ll go spend the day on the beach. I’d figured it would lose its appeal with how available it is, but somehow it never does.

She likes to catch up on the news while we eat. I never bothered, learned from my time in the military that one officer is just as good as any other, so it always just seemed like one big distraction. Guess with how things have been going for The Empire lately though, it’s worthwhile.

They’ve been in decline for a few years now. Guess they over-expanded, made enough enemies for them to all get together and fight back on a united front. They put on a brave face over the official channels, of course, but I know the Imperial propaganda machine well enough to trust the shadow broadcasts at this point.

Not sure what’s so great about The Republic that it deserves to come back, but not my fight any more. They’ve even got a few Jedi if some of the more fringe networks are to be believed, so how good can they be? Whatever. Best case scenario, they both annihilate each other and systems get to self govern, maybe coalesce into a few smaller unions.

‘Hey sugar? You’re gonna want to read this.’ “The Empire has been officially disbanded. Following the signing of a peace treaty, The New Republic will be officially taking power over all Imperial jurisdiction in the coming months. Amnesty is being declared for all enemies of The Empire, provided they commit no crimes against The New Republic.”

‘Can you verify that somewhere else? That could be speculation.’ I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it. Not that I’m against it, but that I can’t let myself have that kind of hope without knowing for certain. We’ve eked out a comfortable enough existence on the fringes, but if this is true we could do anything. The galaxy would be the limit.

‘That was an official broadcast. Real as it gets.’ Official Imperial channels. I suppose not Imperial now. Going to take a while to adjust to that. But, more importantly, it’s all over. Even with how much distance we’ve put between ourselves and my old life, I’d sometimes worry that it was right behind me, another lesser Blackmire that I’d forgotten about would show up at my door with a squad and drag me off to a cell.

But now I’m free. Really free, no strings attached. Amnesty. An official, on the record, Imp- Republic legislative seal stamped pardon. I don’t even know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. She’s smiling at me. Smiling like I’ve only seen a few times, she’s just as happy as I am. Happy for me. I love her so much.

We’ve been smiling at each other for a minute, just taking it in. The words are finally coming to me. ‘Wow. You really outdid yourself with this anniversary gift.’ Can’t think of anything else to do about it but joke right now. There’ll be time for real plans later, but right now we have an entire day together to celebrate. ‘Happy anniversary. I love you.’ ‘Love you too, sugar.’

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Cryo Archon!Childe fucking his wife on their wedding night and he gets her pregnant? and he's a little yandereish like the way you write him? your work is sublime

Thank you~! I had fun writing this since I never once entertained Childe being a cryo archon but the image of him having the signature tip dyed hair was simply o(*////▽////*)q

In Snezhnaya with Love

Summary: Cryo Archon's most treasured and beloved possession was not his gnosis, but the Tsaritsa that was protected in the depths of the Zapolyarny Palace.

--

Of the current Seven, the Cryo Archon, the Tsar of Snezhnaya was famed for his glorious victories in the battlefield, a once human who vanquished gods when meeting gods and slayed demons when meeting demons. All Snezhnayans held their Cryo Archon with high regards, loved him and respected him for all the battles he had won for himself and that of Snezhnaya. They tell the story of their Archon, the second to ascend among the Original Seven, whose battle prowess was second only to Morax of Liyue.

Though no one knew their Tsar’s once mortal name, their were many monikers he went by at the times he paraded himself as a mortal; Tartaglia of the Harbingers when in Snezhnaya, Childe when in Liyue, Herrscher in Mondstadt, Wakasama in Inazuma, Le Seigneur in Fontaine, Bhagavan in Sumeru, and Kasike in Natlan. Thus, the people of Snezhnaya found no need to discover their Archon’s once name.

And you were one of them, you had no need nor want to know the Cryo Archon, the Tsar, beyond what he wanted his people to know. All that mattered was that you loved him just as your fellow countrymen did. Though you were no devout follower of the Tsar, despite your status as the heiress of 10 Noble Houses of Snezhnaya’s high society, you still carried yourself like one.

You were after all graced with his element, and your Uncle Pulcinella’s position in the Harbingers ensured that you brought no shame to the prestige of your bloodline and your status as a Cryo Vision Holder. You were the embodiment of your Archon’s ideals, Strength not only to protect one’s self and family but also to challenge the Divine.

It was the price you willingly paid to enjoy the privileges your vision and status granted you. Perhaps in another world you would have gone on and married someone not out of love but out of duty, but such thoughts flew out of the window that one summer day in Morepesok.

It had been a vacation for you, a rare moment of freedom from the prying and judging eyes of the world. You had been allowed to roam free in your Uncle Pulcinella’s vacation villa in the rural seaside village. It was one of the top tourist destinations in Snezhnaya, a town seemingly stuck in time, where the rest of Snezhnaya was filled with towering buildings and skyscrapers of metal and light, Morepesok retained the traditional houses of Snezhnaya.

A rare glimpse of the past long gone. It was during this trip that you had your fateful encounter with the young man, his orange hair with sky blue tips that gently swayed in the cold wind, and his piercing blue eyes that had taken your breath away.

He smiled at you, curious and just a touch of arrogance that let you know he knew he was handsome. Your cheeks flushed not from the cold but from embarrassment.

“Hey there, girlie~!” He called out as he trotted towards you, his hunter attire letting you know he was one of the hunters of Morepesok.

“He-hello” You greeted him back, soft and shy. Stuttering as you felt your heartbeat quicken with each step that he took towards you.

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous in this area?” He asked you, eyes glinting with cold amusement and something in you wanted to rise to his unspoken challenge.

“Oh? Was there?” You replied, “With this being part of my uncle’s villa, I doubt that there is anything here that would be dangerous to me…”

His smile fades away and you continued, “Of course even if this part of the woods is no longer a part of his villa, other than our beloved Tsar’s ire, I would be the most dangerous creature out here.”

You punctuated your words with the masterful and powerful display of your control over Cryo. The frostarm lawachurl heading towards your location toppled over, the top of their head bleeding out from the spikes of cryo that burst out from their forehead. Their dying cry had the man before you looking back and his laughter echoed in the desolate winter forest of Morepesok.

“Hahahaha!” He laughed, hands on his stomach as he bent over “Amazing, comrade! This is the first time I’ve ever seen Cryo be used in such a way! Not even the Tsar was said to be that ruthless!”

You smiled at him, sweet and pleased at his praise, “Perhaps, our beloved Tsar has yet to meet an opponent that would make him use such cruelty.”

“Interesting, I’m Ajax of Morepesok. And you...must be Pulcinella’s treasured niece” His smile turned more genuine offering his hand to you he added, “Something tells me would get along most splendidly.”

And as you gave him your hand, he brought it close to his lips, kissing it gently and you knew, as the distant sound of the waves crashing into the shore sounded in the forest, that your first defeat was in the hands of this charming young man.

And it was your sweetest defeat, you spent most of your days in his cabin, an inheritance from his deceased family, your time split between sparring with him and going ice fishing. Each moment spent made you stronger, Ajax taught you in every weapon he knew. Each touch that corrected your stance sent shivers down your spine.

And neither of you shied away from the inevitable. His touches became less innocent, less sincere in teaching you. And you took every opportunity to have skinship with him, from taking advantage of the gentle cold air to asking for his help in reeling in the ridiculously large fishes in Morepesok.

Despite the never ending cold of Snezhnaya, the distance between you and Ajax slowly melted away with each shed of layer between the two of you. In his cabin, you were just a young maiden in love, and he was just your strong lover who sheltered you from the harshness of the world.

The domesticity of your everyday life with him lulled you into a false sense of comfort, the mornings and afternoons spent with him would come to an end. Maybe, it was the knowledge that you would never be able to return to this time, or perhaps it was your reluctance to be forgotten so easily that led to this point.

The moment Ajax had kissed you against his door, you had shed all pretense of propriety. You kissed him back, tongue entangling with his as his hands ventured down and began divesting you of your clothes. Neither of you stopped kissing as your hand went to his pants and unbuckled his belt, his hydro vision dropping to the ground in sync with him removing your top that held your cryo vision.

You broke off to breath and found your neck being kissed as Ajax lifted you up and you let out a surprised gasp. Your arms automatically embraced his neck as he brought you upstairs and into his bedroom. You had no chance to look around as he gently placed you atop his soft bed.

His lips trailed down from your neck to the center of your chest down to your groin, leaving a soft trail of kisses before he began to eat you out.

Outside the window of his room, snow fell harshly and the windows softly shook with each gust of wind. Idly you wondered what had made the Tsar rage about but this thought was lost to the lust and pleasure of your love making with Ajax.

You laid on his chest, utterly spent as he curled his arm around you and gave you soft kisses atop your head. Neither of you spoke, unwilling to face the reality of your departure. But you were never one to falter from the things that you didn’t like.

You were always moving forward. Bravely facing whatever comes your way, be it life or love. So you broke the silence, because it was what you believed you owed him.

“I’m enlisting in the Fatui” Your voice soft, “This would be most likely the last time we would meet.”

You felt his hand on your waist tighten before it relaxed. You looked at him and was greeted by his warm smile.

“But not definitely” He said and your heart ached because you knew that even if you met him next time there was no chance for anything more.

“Ajax, the next time we meet, I will no longer be as I am today.”

“...”

His eyes grew cold and you found yourself underneath him, he looked at you darkly and foolishly you still found yourself lost in his beautiful eyes.

“We will meet again,” he said, voice hard and steely “and no one would be able to take you away from me.”

His kiss was hard and biting, cold and passionate, and for a moment you believed him.

“Promise me then,” You begged him as tears gathered in the edges of your eyes as you surrendered to him once more “promise me that you’ll wait for me, that you’ll fight for me and I’ll return to you and fight for you.”

“I promise” Ajax smiled, his coldness and anger melting away as he showered you with all of his love. Leaving traces of himself on you, marking you to proclaim his rightful ownership of you.

Enlisting in the Fatui and joining their ranks hadn’t been easy with the additional expectation being brought by your familial connection with one of the current Harbingers, and with that the hatred and envy of others. You didn’t care for it though, thoughts of Ajax and the life you’d have with him making it easier for you. Then again, the Fatui was a place where strength was respected and it was something you had in spades, from fighting abilities to scheming. You didn’t have the best leadership skills but that was something that could be slowly learned.

All in all, you had gritted your teeth, bore the difficulties, and slowly but surely made your way up in the ranks and into being a Harbinger. Innamorati, they called you and you it was a name you proudly wore. A name bestowed upon you by your beloved Cryo Archon, the Tsar with his bright orange hair and deep blue eyes that reminded you of Ajax.

It was surprising to see such a familiar and beloved face in that of the beloved Archon but you had learned to hide your emotions. But even as you walked away from him and went home to celebrate, the unmistakable pull you felt didn’t allow you to delude yourself completely.

You needed to see Ajax.

The trip to Morepesok was faster with the portable waypoint Ajax had made you. An easy temptation to meet him in the middle of your enlistment but one you never took. You wanted to prove yourself, and at the same time show him that you’d never easily cave, be it for him or for something else, you would keep your word. And maybe that was why the waiting figure of your Tsar, in Ajax’ clothes, had shaken your heart.

The winds howled and snow fell harshly, each step he took towards made you tremble whether it was from trepidation or something else you didn’t know but as he took a strand of your hair and held close to his lips you couldn’t help but call for him,

“Ajax?”

You felt at loss, not knowing how much of the days you spent with him were true, not knowing if his words had been meant. You wouldn’t be able to take it if it wasn’t.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, gently and comforting as he took you into his arms and held you tight enough that it hurt.

You didn’t know what to say, unable to put your feelings into words so you buried your face into his chest, held him just as tight with your trembling hands and begged him to understand what your heart wanted.

You never noticed how you remained unaffected by the cold, despite the howling winds and harshly falling snow that surrounded you. All you could think of was the feeling you held tightly as Ajax carried you inside his home, up to his bedroom and slowly but gently began to undress you.

You made no protest beyond the need to have your hand held by his. He had laughed, soft and gentle, at your clinginess but no less than pleased at it.

“I’d need my hand to properly undress you” He said even if he had no problem tearing your clothes off.

You gave him an unimpressed glance but nonetheless leaned close when he moved to take your panties off, you snuggled closer to him, holding his hand tighter. You felt your panties drop to your feet and you moved to take it off them. Ajax pushed you to sit and the bed, finding it adorable and pleasing how you easily complied.

Trusted him so much that you made no protest beyond the soft pout when he untangled your hands. He gently rolled your black thigh highs off your legs, raising one leg high to slowly and teasingly slide it off your smooth legs.

He smirked at seeing your pussy twitch ever so often, knowing that you were surely having lewd thoughts. So he pulled you closer by your legs until your pussy was just a scant few centimeters away from his face. Your breath hitched and you unconsciously wanted to close your legs but his hands stopped it and began the process of taking off your remaining thigh highs. The process barely took a minute but it felt so long that you were ready to beg him.

When your thighs were freed from your thigh highs, you spread your legs, fingers going towards your labia and spreading it wide for him to see.

“Please?” You begged, voice soft and cute as you showed him your glistening wet pussy.

And Ajax, had never been one to deny you. Spoiling you with gifts and affection until you were drunk and dizzy from it. His mouth pressed close to your cunt, tongue licking the outside, circling your clit before it made its way in. He ate you like the sweet treat that you were, holding your thighs securely as you writhed on the bed with pleasure, moans growing louder and louder with each passing minute until you were crying for release.

He was relentless in teasing you, calloused hands teasing your clit before stopping when you were on the edge of your orgasm.

“Ajax~” You cried his name, moaning and panting as his fingers fucked you “please le—ahh!”

“Aren’t you my most devoted Harbinger?” He teased, “Surely you can hold on until I order you to come?”

You nod your head with slight hesitation but it was something Ajax could forgive seeing how you were feverish with want and your earlier words of begging for his cock.

His fingers went in and out of your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the squelch of your slick, his saliva and the hydro that coated his fingers. Your pussy loosened with each passing minute as he alternated his attention to your sweet cunt and your cute clit.

When he had deemed you loose enough, he stood up and freed his cock from the tight and uncomfortable confines of pants, he let his pants and briefs drop to the floor before he climbed the bed and in one smooth motion, plunged his cock into your waiting wet pussy.

“Cum” He ordered and you did, voice a sweet melody to his ears as he fucked you through your orgasm, the loud creaking of the bed and the sound of the head board as it repeatedly slammed on the wall made you aware of your situation, as the haze of lust slightly lifted.

It didn’t do much beyond making you want to hold his hand which Ajax did, held your hand as he repeatedly rammed his cock into your pussy, slowly reaching your depths with each thrust of his cock until he let out his cum inside you, spilling it deep inside your pussy that Ajax knew that there wasn’t any impossibility you wouldn’t end up pregnant.

He softly fell on top of you, caging you beneath him as you hugged his muscular back and simply existed in that moment. His cock remained inside of you and the feeling of being connected in such a way, on having all of him touching your skin, the soft sound of his ragged breaths and his scent mixing with the smell of sex that pervaded your nose anchored you in this precise moment.

Where the world felt like it had melted away leaving the two of you alone. Neither a monarch and his subject nor a god and its believer. Just you and him, as lovers.

“Did you really mean it?” You asked, soft and preparing for the worst.

“Yes,” He answered, voice equally soft as he squeezed you tight, he continued “I meant every I love yous I said to you, every promise made.”

He kissed you on your neck, on the vein that betrayed your heart’s quick pulse. He inhaled your scent which he had missed so dearly, remembering the nights he had spent thinking of you, wondering what you were doing. The nights he laid awake missing your warmth on his side, the afternoon naps where he held you close to his heart.

He watched from afar as you slowly and steadily made your way up in the ranks, each battle won and lost that slowly shaped you into a Harbinger. He thought of the days that made him want to simply steal you away, lock you in his room until you forgot your family, your duty, and only had him in your mind.

But he stopped himself, he knew that doing so would make you lose the shine that had entranced him, he would lose the you that he came to love. The you that was bound by duty both self-imposed and ones imposed by society. So he waited, until the day came when you stood before him, surprise hidden well but he was Ajax, he was your Cryo Archon, he was your lover whom you eagerly wrote every week.

So he knew your tells better than anyone else, knew the moment it clicked in your mind, saw the trepidation behind your eyes and Ajax wouldn’t have that. He had promised you after all, and he was one to keep promises.

Even if one day you wanted to leave him, he wouldn’t allow you. He had a promise to keep after all.

In the depths of Zapolyarny Palace was a room where the Tsaritsa, the Tsar’s most beloved wife resided. It was a room filled with splendor and grace, the best and most beautiful artworks and gadgets decorated the room.

It was a room that the Tsar loved the most, and thus it was the most important room in the Palace. The best of the Fatui sans the Harbingers guarded the doors that led to the halls of the room. It was strictly guarded and meant to ensure that not a single thing would be stolen from the room.

It was after all where you resided, a place where the Tsar designated as his home. His personal haven from courtly matters and godly duties. And today was no exception, every day you spent on the room was reliving your wedding night.

The soft silk sheets that you felt on your back, the white lacy lingerie that you wore underneath your wedding gown. It’s tiny slits that showcased your exposed and erect nipples, the your cum filled pussy that dripped with your husband’s thick cum that was always replenished multiple times in a day. The soft clink of the chains that held your wrists and had your legs spread widely. The familiar sensation of your collar that held your Cryo vision, a mark of his favor and love, a seal that ensured you would remain his until you drew your last breath. The soft cotton of your blindfold had enhanced your other senses beyond compare, making you hyper aware of everything that was happening in the room.

The familiar footsteps on the warm carpet of your bedroom, the familiar rustle of his clothes as it fell softly on the ground, cape first, shirt second, belt next and lastly his pants. His warm calloused hands gently caressing the insides of your thighs.

The same routine, repeated every day at different times since you married him. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he blindfolded you, how long you had spent with him, the days blurred as he never removed your blindfold.

He took you apart every time and mended you back, fucking you over and over again until he felt satisfied, until your pussy felt raw, until you were begging him for sweet release, until you lifelessly laid on his chest enjoying the feel of his hard cock being warmed by your cunt.

Your apprehension melted away with each fucking, with each release of his seed inside you, until you could only demand more of his time, more of his attention, more of his cum filling you up.

You loved when he was rough with you, the harsh and loud clinks of the chain as you moaned wantonly, begging him to cum inside you, to use you as he saw fit. And each time he went along with your wishes, fulfilling each and every demand you asked of him.

You kissed him with everything that you were, unrestrained by duty or dignity, only knowing what you want as you rubbed your naked and marked body against his, you weren’t the dignified or noble Tsaritsa the public knew. In this room filled with the most prized treasures of the Tsar, you were his most precious slut.

A slut that opened your legs for him alone, a slut that presented your ass and pussy to him with eager eyes hidden by a blindfold. A slut that couldn’t wait to be filled to the brim. It was his duty, his calling as a husband and as your lover to fulfill your needs, to ram his cock again and again inside your loose pussy that held so much of his cum even when your stomach was already showing.

It was his duty to ensure that you, his lewd wife, would be filled with his cum, from your pussy, to your asshole, to those pretty pink lips that eagerly wrapped itself on his cock. He loved how you didn’t care where he fucked you in the room. He loved how different you acted depending on whether he was ramming his cock inside you on the bed, or fucking you in front of the window.

He loved the way you moaned when the table digged on your hips, the way you grasped at the cover as he slid his dick in and out of your loose pussy, cum spilling down your thighs and pooling on the floor. He loved how slutty you could get when being fucked in the bathtub, water sloshing as you repeatedly slammed your pussy down his cock, moaning loud enough that some of it undoubtedly could be heard behind the thick doors of your room.

He loved the sounds you made, pleased and eager, as he fucked your mouth in front of the fireplace, your naked body sitting on the floor while a Cryo dildo repeatedly slammed inside your pussy.

He loved you when your stomach began showing signs of pregnancy, growing big with each passing week and yet you remained unaware, or perhaps you paid it no mind.

He couldn’t tell if you were genuinely happy with the arrangement but as long as you remained by his side, happily doing what he wants, whispering I love yous and adoration in his ears. Eagerly kissing him good morning and good bye, Ajax didn’t put any thought on it.

On the ninth month of your pregnancy, the blindfold was taken off, you looked at him with love and the unmistakable look of longing.

“I missed you!” You told him, eagerly running up to hug him, and plaster your entire naked body, cum dripping down between your legs, to his.

He laughed at you, amused and loving and gently held you close, “You shouldn’t run so quickly, you’re carrying our child after all.”

You nod, and look at your bulging stomach, hand instinctively rubbing it.

“I hope this child will look just like you!”

“Is that so?” He asked a pensive look in his eyes as he rubbed your stomach.

“Yes! How lovely would it be to see a child version of you? A mini-you calling me mother!”

He smiled at you fondly, pleased to know that you still loved him. He kissed you lovingly on your lips and whispered, “As you wish.”

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXVI

Part I - - - - - - - - - Part XXIII - - - - Part XXIV - - - - Part XXV

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“You’re late!” Krell barked.

Ahsoka stepped back, startled by the abrasive greeting. She glanced at the chronometer, bewildered.

“Apologies, Master,” she said, bowing politely. “I came as soon as mid-hyperspace docking engaged. Was the meeting not scheduled for 0500?”

Yeesh he’s crankier than Master Kenobi without morning tea.

“It was moved to 04:30—don’t they teach whelplings to check their comms?” He replied, stepping forward to tower over her. She stared upwards at the unfamiliar Master, not certain how they had gotten off on such a bad start.

...did he just call me a whelpling? what—what does that even...

“It was my fault, sir,” Rex said, tone and body rigid. “The intership comms—”

“I did not give you permission to speak—” Krell’s eyes raked across Rex’s pauldron. “—7567. Consider this your only warning not to interrupt me again.”

Ahsoka sucked in a breath, too shocked to respond. 

“Yes, sir,” Rex replied tonelessly.

“Next time you will be here when I say. Understood, girl?” Krell didn’t wait for a response before turning around with a dismissive snort. Ahsoka bristled, instinctively falling into a dueling stance. She opened her mouth, but before she could marshal the appropriate curse words, Rex laid a hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him sharply. “Not Respectful?!” she yelled silently, jerking her chin angrily. Or, more specifically, ‘Not-not hostile?’ falling into callsigns, something she usually reserved for enemy territory, which was apparently now the RESOLUTE!

“Please,” he begged with a tilt of his visor and a twist of hands. “Please. Later.”

Ahsoka clenched her fists, gaze sweeping the room.

“Not now,” Cody signaled behind Krell’s back, a brittle edge to his force presence that she didn’t like.

She reluctantly let her arms fall.

“Do you have something to say?” Krell asked dismissively, not looking at her as he pulled up their sparse intel on the Utapau system.

“No. Not at the moment,” she grit out.

“Hm. It’s no wonder that so much time spent learning from inferior prey species would leave you...soft. It is something I will soon...correct you of.” 

“I look forward to sparring at your earliest convenience,” she half-said, half-snarled. The mood in the room grew subtly fearful; a brief spike of raw panic, almost too quick and controlled to sense, flared off of Rex. She took a deep breath, attempting to center herself. ‘Later,’ she thought like a mantra. ‘Later.’

“I suppose I can also set aside some time for a proper warrior’s meditation— it would be best to make sure that you haven’t inherited any of your grandmaster’s...mental fragility.”

The fear in the room grew heavier. Krell was either willfully ignorant or actively enjoying it.

Once more, her fists closed and her mouth opened.

“No,” Cody signed frantically. “No, Stand down.”

“Are you defective?” Krell asked, turning his attention to the Marshall Commander. “Why are you flailing your hands while your superiors are speaking?”

“Just attempting to check on the status of the comms,” Cody replied.

“Communication issues were supposed to be resolved yesterday,” the Besalisk snapped.

“My fault entirely,” Cody said neutrally.

“Yes. It is. And I will be remembering that. It seems that the 212ths famed effectiveness has been overblown—not surprising considering the state of your General. There have been a number of issues I’ve noticed since coming on board: sloppiness in dress code, scribbled lists of ‘nicknames’ where there should be clean walls—”

“Are you referring to the fallen soldier memorials?” Rex asked, deadly calm.

“Whatever you call it,” he said dismissively. “I expect it will be scrubbed off by this afternoon. Not to mention your armor—I know your previous General was dangerously unsuited for the rigors of battle but I am running a war. The colors are a distraction in the field, and unnecessary. And another thing—”

Cody struggled to tune out the verbal barrage as his fingers itched—whether for a blaster, as Rex was subtly twitching towards, or to curl into a fist, as Ahsoka was actively doing, he didn’t know. This was who they were replacing Obi-Wan with? This was who Mace told Rex to trust? This was the General who he was supposed to sacrifice his men’s lives in protection for? They were scarcely out of orbit and the ‘Jedi’ had already actively insulted his best officers, degraded the value of every clone’s life and death, repeatedly mocked General Kenobi’s condition, and now he was disrespecting Ashoka. How the fuck was he supposed to keep her safe from this nightmare of a Jedi if she rose to all of his barbs—

His furious musings were interrupted by a commotion at the entrance to the bridge. His gut coiled with dread, not wanting to see the fallout. Krell would definitely lash out at whoever was responsible for the interruption. Boil inhaled sharply; across the room, wordless surprise began to ripple across ramrod stiff backs.

Then Ahsoka called out, tone shockingly and incongruously bright.

“Master!”

“General!” Waxer cried in relief and delight, “You’re alright!”

Cody spun around, and there, haloed by the soft light of the early morning corridor stood Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Indeed I am—I’m terribly sorry if I’ve put any of you out. Might I say it’s very good to see you all.” The achingly familiar and alive Jedi flashed a grin at Cody, who just stared back numbly.

“With one notable exception, of course,” Obi-Wan continued, striding forward. The movement revealed a grim-faced Anakin Skywalker, nearly hidden by his Master’s presence despite their height difference. Or perhaps Cody wasn’t paying attention before. Skywalker slid into the shadow at his Master’s side as General Kenobi’s smile turned towards Krell and grew brittle.

“Kenobi,” the Besalisk sneered. “Shouldn’t you be wailing in a padded room?”

“Hmm,” Kenobi hummed thoughtfully, stroking his beard and looking bemused at the attempted taunt. “No, I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” The good humour slid abruptly into a sneer, voice and face suddenly more contemptuous than Krell’s. “You, on the other hand, are on my bridge and in my way.”

“Thank fuck,” Boil muttered, several vode clicking their heels in agreement. 

"This is my ship now,” the Besalisk growled. “The Jedi High Council themselves appointed me as High General of the Third Army while you were off pissing yourself in a dark room.” His scaly lip curled and he puffed himself larger, again either unaware of or deliberately ignoring the waves of emotion rolling off the troops surrounding him. “You should have stayed where no one would have to watch your pathetic fits. Now, 2224, as your General, I order you to lock this man in the brig before he can cause any more of a disruption.”

Cody finally broke his gaze away from Obi-Wan to stare in disbelief at the four armed idiot. Obi-Wan’s grin widened.

“Come now, Krell, did you really think no one would notice your betrayal? Did you honestly believe that not a single Jedi Master would sense your fall? That no one would pick up on your pathetic intentions to flee the Republic and beg Dooku to please take pity on you?” He stepped forward, undaunted by the massive shadow the reptilian Master was casting.

Krell's face twisted. Cody wasn’t sure if he was more enraged by the implication of treason or cowardice.

“You’ve LOST your MIND!”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’ve said. It’s getting a bit repetitive, not to mention distasteful. I mean, really what kind of craven—”

“GO TO THE BRIG BEFORE I DECIDE TO KILL YOU!” Krell snarled, all hands falling to his sabers.

Responding to the threat, every clone in the room drew their blaster, pointing them at the raving fallen Jedi. Krell drew his lightstaves, but before he could ignite them, Anakin suddenly stood in between the two Masters, striking a defensive pose and vibrating with leashed fury.

Obi-Wan kept talking, as though the room wasn’t a breath away from utter carnage. “As a High Council Member and duly appointed High General of the Grand Army of the Republic, I hereby strip you of your rank within the Order and relieve you of your military rank and privileges. Furthermore, you are under arrest for your callous mistreatment of sentient life, conspiracy to commit treason—”

Krell lunged forward with a murderous roar, and the bridge descended into full chaos.

Cody had scarcely moved his men into better positions when one of Krell’s hands fell to the ground in a blur of blue. Kenobi’s saber was finally out, deflecting every blow that slipped past Skywalker’s guard. Or rather, he and Anakin fought as a perfectly unified singular entity to disarm Krell (quite literally as the case would have it, a lower left forearm still writhing on the ground in their wake).

Ahsoka hovered at the outskirts of the duel, repeatedly tensing and falling back, itching to help but unwilling to interrupt the flow of combat as a lethal distraction. The clones found themselves in the same situation, eager to defend their Generals but stymied by the cramped space and unfathomably rapid movements. Lightsaber combat often moved in bursts of speed but the three combatants were abnormally unrelenting, limbs and sabers only clearly distinguishable in those brief moments where they remained locked. 

Here, Anakin materialized, throat caught in Krell’s right arm, before disengaging with a kick. There—across the room now—Krell was held in place, Obi-Wan’s blade dangerously close to his throat before being thrown back. Then they were gone again—the eye of a hurricane whose winds began to painfully buffet the assembled spectators. 

For a moment Krell pressed down on General Kenobi, the smaller Jedi starting to visibly buckle under the weight. Then a blur of light and Krell’s upper right arm fell to the floor, still gripping a green lightstaff.

The room grew bitterly cold as Krell howled in fury, throwing back equipment and men as he lashed out in the force. Cody managed to keep his feet as his back hit the wall, desperately attempting to regain his breath as he struggled to steel himself against what could only be the wild push of an uncontrolled dark force user. 

The sensation of frost biting at his skin was almost familiar, sharp in the way of Dooku, but the physical punch was not nearly as focused. Anakin and Obi-Wan stumbled for a moment before leaning into the icy gail, nodding at one another.

Moving in sync, the two pinned the massive warrior against a wall with a spin and push of their outstretched hands. Krell continued to roar, implacable despite his decisive and almost embarrassingly rapid loss. 

Obi-Wan darted forward, grabbing the Besalisk’s head between his hands and finally raising his voice, shouting a single “ENOUGH.” 

The word reverberated around the room with enough force that several troopers fumbled with their weapons, one shiny even dropping his blaster as he staggered back. Krell’s eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged in place, unconscious and missing one third of his limbs.

The soldiers on the floor began staggering into their feet, immediately closing in on Krell, blasters at the ready. Ahsoka balanced on the balls of her feet, blades in hand, but Krell remained still. Obi-Wan tucked his saber away, clearly signaling the end of combat—Anakin followed suit a moment later. Considering the fact that it had been barely a few minutes since Obi-Wan stepped on the bridge, Cody rallied rather impressively, in his own opinion. 

“Orders, sir?” he asked, stiffly saluting his General. His apparently completely fine, totally alright, walking around normally General.

Obi-Wan reached into a fold in his robes and pulled out a small leather sack. Grimacing, he pulled out a metal cuff with strange markings and an oily sheen. He clasped the cuff to Krell’s remaining left arm, removing a small crystal to lock it in place, before dropping the gem in the bag.

“That was a force-suppressing cuff,” he explained, handing the satchel over to Boil. “Between his injuries, my force command, and that he should stay under for the next few hours while he’s being treated for wounds. Once medical’s finished with him, attach the remaining cuffs and transfer him to the brig.” The orders were crisp and not particularly enlightening, but after days of confusing and heart-wrenching bantha-fodder and then Krell’s demeaning sithspit, the familiar Coruscanti accent was more refreshing than rainwater in the desert.

“Yes, General. Boil, Waxer—you’re in charge of the prisoner. ‘66 clean up this room.” Cody commanded, delegating on autopilot. Delegating the orders that Obi-Wan gave out loud with his voice that Cody could hear.

“Yes, sir!” Waxer said happily. “And might I say—it’s very good to have you back on board, General Kenobi, General Skywalker.”

“It’s good to be back,” Obi-Wan (General Kenobi, he’s back, and you call him General Kenobi) said softly, corners of his eyes wrinkling like—it didn’t matter.

“The Generals will debrief Rex and I now, if neither of them have any other orders for the moment,” Cody continued, professionally ignoring any inane internal commentary.

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Kenobi agreed, as though responding to a typical exchange, as though the last time they had been in the same room Obi-Wan hadn’t been in a self-induced coma following attempted suicide and Cody wasn’t currently on the edge of a breakdown.

Skywalker, he noted, just nodded, glaring at the wall Krell was propped up against. He clearly wasn’t ready to pretend that the last week had been normal, thank fuck.

“What do you want me to do?” Ahsoka asked quietly, putting away her sabers, gaze flickering uncertainly between the Jedi.

“You’re with us, of course,” General Skywalker replied, just as softly, speaking for the first time since turning the bridge upside down. Or right side up, depending on your point of view. Ahsoka beamed, straightening with pride.

“Commander Cody,” Obi-Wan said, in that same kriffing normal tone of voice. “Would you be so kind as to also send a runner to summon Kix and Bones to my office? Everyone will need to read in, but as we’ve had to disable communications—for very good reason—it’s going to take some time.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth, but Cody just nodded, beyond questions. “Of course.”

The group walked out the door, any awkward silence between the 212th General and Commander more than drowned out by Rex and Ahsoka’s gushing over their incredible takedown of Krell. Although, contrary to his typical ego-tripping, Anakin seemed to shrink at the praise, looking guiltily at Obi-Wan from the side of his eyes.

“It—had to be done,” Skywalker said awkwardly, hand twitching over the holster strapped to his side. Cody winced under his bucket. Is this the first time he’s picked up a lightsaber since—oh fuck is that his lightsaber—

“It did,” Obi-Wan confirmed, reaching out to squeeze Anakin’s shoulder. “And we were able to take him alive, which means he can be held accountable for his crimes in a fair trial.”

Anakin instantly brightened. “We did pretty good, huh? Fighting together?”

“It was awesome!” Ahsoka agreed enthusiastically, making a dramatic motion, as Obi-Wan’s gentle smile faded. “That fucker didn’t know what hit him!”

“Apologies for leaving you with him, even temporarily.” Obi-Wan’s tone grew gravely as they stepped inside the quiet office, gaze flickering towards Rex and Cody.

“If I had known attacking him was an option, it would have made things a lot easier,” Rex replied, carefully jovial.

Ahsoka’s enthusiasm faltered. 

“I know we should wait for the other officers, but—was this your plan? Was this what Master Windu meant on the platform...”

“Yes, I’m sorry—I never would have left you alone with Krell for even this long if I could help it,” General Kenobi responded seriously, face growing somber as Skywalker’s expression darkened. “But there are...more eyes and ears on Coruscant right now than we can account for.”

The Tortugan padawan nodded serenely, then punched Obi-Wan directly in the face.

“How could you!” she yelled, tone breaking and eyes growing damp. “How could you lie about that!”

Anakin leapt forward, pinning her arms in a bear hug, which she struggled against, kicking wildly.

“Snips, No,” Skywalker said, desperately soothing. “It wasn’t like that, I swear!”

“Oh Ashoka, you misunderstand, I’m so sorry, I should have—” Obi-Wan rubbed his nose, wincing. “I would never fake my death in that manner, I promise, that was not a deliberate deception—”

“Then you did try to kill yourself?” Cody asked, feeling strangely disconnected. 

“You what,” Kix said in a strangled whisper. Apparently the Open Circle Medics had arrived at some point in the commotion. 

Obi-Wan flinched, pressing fingers into the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how I was expecting this conversation to go,” he muttered.

“Just hear him out—it’s not what it seems,” Skywalker pleaded, but Bones was already at General Kenobi’s side, manhandling into a medical examination.

“I did not actually attempt to kill myself—”

“But Skyguy said you did! How could you use that as a cover! Do you know how much I blamed myself?” Ahsoka sobbed, tears spilling out as she suddenly tipped past the point of putting on a brave face. 

Rex made a low sound but Cody simply stared at his General, who was gently batting away the top medical hands of the 212th and 501st.

“Ashoka—no—that never would have been your fault,” Obi-Wan tried to say.

“I know that, obviously!” Ahsoka said fiercely, taking a deep breath and stilling herself; Anakin maintained his grip as tears continued to fall. Cody felt like he was fully outside of his body, unable to process the rapid fire exchange of guilt and betrayal that made something echo beneath his own breastplate.

“But I’m a shiny who you’ve had to keep alive in a warzone and I know how much it upsets you when I mention something and you realize that I didn’t have the sort of initiate experience that people used to and I knew you weren’t taking sleeping enough but I thought it was ok since you were this untouchable Master but that was so stupid because I’ve seen you bleed and I know you’re just a squishy human and—” 

Obi-Wan collapsed to his knees in front of her, wrapping her in a fierce hug as Anakin hovered protectively above the pair. “Oh Ashoka, I’m so sorry—my mental state is not your responsibility and I promise I didn’t deliberately leave you in the dark like that.”

Ashoka sniffled. “So...it wasn’t a ruse to throw off the Separatists?”

“No, of course not, no!” Obi-Wan said hastily, drawing back so he could meet her gaze. “I admit my rather abrupt raising of shields after reaching out yesterday morning was done with the partial-intention of fostering confusion, and I apologize for the distress that must have caused, but the initial, ah, self-harm was not in anyway intended as a trick.”

Ashoka’s eyes grew very, very big and Cody grew so still that Anakin was briefly concerned he had, in fact, had a heart attack and died while standing.

Obi-Wan winced, slapping a hand to his face, which caused him to wince again. “That’s not what I meant either! I’m not suicidal—”

“But you were?” Bones asked, throat hoarse with gradually increasing but carefully restrained stress and fear and confusion.

“No!” Obi-Wan said desperately, Anakin considered poking Cody, whose force presence was flickering out of perception in an extremely worrying matter. “I thought that I was hallucinating, but I very much understand that I have things to live for now, that was the other goal of reaching out—”

“So you thought you didn’t have things to live for before?” Ashoka questioned, voice wobbling between outrage and sadness.

“...Please let me start from the beginning.”

“I think that would be best,” Captain Rex said, utterly neutral.

“Right.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Why don’t we all sit?”

Everyone obediently did so, the speed at which they fell in slightly discomfiting Obi-Wan. 

Cody forced himself to focus fully, pulling off his helmet so he could finally look at Obi-Wan without the visor, grounding himself with the fact that, whatever Obi-Wan was about to say right now, he really, truly was here. Anakin shot him a sympathetic glance across the table. 

“If I might be permitted to try once more without interruption—”

Everyone nodded fiercely, leaning in and radiating guilt in a way that reminded Obi-Wan uncomfortably of chastised children—or beaten animals.

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said, ducking her head. “We’ll listen, we promise.”

Cody and the rest of the troopers nodded again in sharp agreement.

“Right. Well.” Obi-Wan sat down slowly. “No need to apologize—I’m—I truly am sorry for worrying you all so much. It all started, from your perspective at least, last Zhellday night, when I experienced a—to be frank vision isn’t completely accurate, it was far too detailed—”

He paused, expecting an interruption that didn’t come; the table leaned in, even Anakin, who had heard this before. The Jedi Master cleared his throat.

“From my perspective, I traveled back in time roughly four years. As far as I am aware, such a detailed warping of the perception of time is unprecedented in force-sensitive history, but, then again, I did live through...rather unprecedented times. Regardless of the mechanics, I was extremely disoriented to find myself in a bar on Coruscant…I assumed I was having a vivid flashback.” The table remained silent as Obi-Wan frowned in thought.

He shook his head, smiling sheepishly. “I am afraid that my attempts to wake up could indeed be reasonably mistaken for—attempted self-harm but I assure you that was not my intention! After I failed to return to the ‘present’, well...it took a great deal of time to correct me of my assumptions. But after yesterday, I am convinced that I am indeed, now, something for which I am extremely grateful. The High Council is equally convinced of the veracity of my vision. I have...a significant amount of knowledge that has unfortunately proven true.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat again. He wasn’t used to speaking this long to this group without interruption, but the room was acting unnervingly obedient.

“Do you have any questions so far?” 

“Is waking up from a vision like that common? Are you likely to...get confused like that again?” Bones asked immediately, deadly serious.

“That’s not what you want to know,” Ahsoka said, waving her hands impatiently. “Master, the only way you could get to that point while awake and not realize that you were awake is if you were completely cut off from the force—and that’s dangerous.”

“Yes. I was hiding from the Sith,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I didn’t know the extent of his ability to sense me.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ahsoka grit out, the vode in the room watching the Jedi go back and forth with increasing confusion.

“It’s easier to spot a far away light in total darkness,” Anakin said solemnly.

“The kriff does that mean?” Kix asked, frustrated by the conversation and particularly bewildered by the fact that General Skywalker was falling into vague metaphor.

Ahsoka gasped, knuckles paling as she gripped the table. “There weren’t...any other Jedi?” The troopers sucked in a breath of sudden understanding.

“I don’t want to see the temple burning,” Cody remembered, the choked words burnt into his memory past the power of alcohol to erase. 

A swell of unimaginable grief slipped past Obi-Wan’s control to etch itself across his face. “Like I said,” he answered hoarsely. “I’m...quite grateful for the second chance.”

"Then we lost the war,” Rex said. “In the future you saw—the Republic lost.”

“I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” Skywalker commented darkly. 

“I don't blame you for trying to kill me, you know,” the General said, stumbling drunk into the hovercar.

“Worse than all the Jedi dying?” Bones asked, incredulous. General Kenobi’s face tightened.

“Before we go on—” Skywalker interjected, side-eying his Master.

“Right, of course,” Obi-Wan said, sounding pained. “Gentleman, I’m afraid before I disclose anymore, I’m going to need your comms. And your weapons.”

Cody had his on the table before the rest of the room could process the order.

“I know you would never fire at me if you were you.”

“Why?” Ahsoka asked indignantly, as Anakin carefully summoned the disconnected gear.

“I think Palpatine must have been controlling your minds somehow.”

“Because in the future you saw, the Jedi weren’t killed by an enemy, were they?” Cody answered, throat dry and skin clammy.

Rex, Kix, and Bones whipped their heads around to stare at the Marshall Commander, looking shocked.

Rex slammed his palms to the table, gaze locked on Cody. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

Obi-Wan grimaced. “There’s—force—I don’t know how to tell you this, it’s—of all the horrors I’ve known—”

“You have slave chips in your brains,” Anakin interrupted bluntly. “It’s why we couldn’t even risk having this conversation until the army was cut off from any possible communication—we spent all night trashing every part of the system. We couldn’t take the chance of them triggering while the company was compromised.”

Cody felt his body drifting away—he had been waiting, dreading the explanation of some—neurotoxin—or dark Sith magic not…

Not something already inside him.

“What the fuck do you mean slave chips?” Kix asked.

“Like bombs?” Ashoka asked, horrified.

“I—” Anakin closed his eyes. “No, worse than that, actually. Didn’t think you could do worse than a bomb in your body, but you learn something horrible every day, right?”

“Sir,” Rex said, hands clenching and unclenching. “With all due respect, cut the melodrama and explain what the fuck the ‘slave chips’ do. Exactly.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “In my...vision the vode turned on the Jedi. That was how we were wiped out. I only survived by chance.”

“No,” Rex refused. “That’s not possible.”

“The chancellor issued something called Order 66.” The four clones stiffened to attention, causing Ahsoka to lean back and Anakin’s hand to drop to his hip.

“That’s—I don’t even know what that is,” Kix whispered.

“I know.” Obi-Wan said gently. “I know. But the way you responded—it’s familiar, isn’t it? Yesterday, after I finally realized when and where I was, we began searching—I only learned hints in my first life—but it was enough—we finally found it in a level five atomic scan, just barely detectable. A bioengineered control chip, likely implanted before decanting.”

General Kenobi carefully reached into his robe and pulled out a data stick, as well as a clear slide with something greyish-pink and translucent suspended inside. “It’s heavily encrypted, but it explains...the future I saw, though I didn’t understand it at the time. You must understand, it’s not a matter of fault, or willpower—the chip is embedded in your frontal lobe—"

“Oh,” Bones murmured, gently touching a hand to his forehead. “It just—overwrites our ability to make choices. That’s—”

The room fell dead silent as the medic failed to finish his sentence.

“But you can get it out?” Rex rasped.

“Surgical instructions are here,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing at the data stick. “Both for human and droid surgeons—I’m—I’m so sorry this has been done to you, I should have—”

“We need to get it out. Now,” Cody commanded brusquely, cutting off the General before he lost his mind.

“Right,” Kix said out loud, as the 212th medic nodded furiously in agreement. “We’ll head straight to the Negotiator’s medical bay, get a room prepped.”

“I need to check in with the Dauntless,” Rex said suddenly. “We’re not supposed to be attached during hyperspace travel this long, someone might spook and try to reestablish comms, no matter how thoroughly you tore them apart.”

Anakin exchanged a grimace with Obi-Wan before standing at the Master’s nod.

“I’ll come with you,” General Skywalker said. “None of you should be without an escort.”

“As far as we could tell—and we ran quite a number of tests—the chips don’t have an algorithm to activate upon discovery,” Obi-Wan added quickly. “But just in case...”

The four clones shuddered.

“I’ll come with you to medical,” Ahsoka offered immediately, earning somber smiles.

“And I’ll stay and discuss next steps with Commander Cody,” Obi-Wan said softly. “There’s only so much I can say while you’re still compromised but I want you to know—we do have a plan. To end the war, to save your brothers.”

Rex cracked a genuine smile at the Jedi. “Of course you do.” 

“You can count on us,” Bones swore.

“I know I can.” General Kenobi’s voice left no room for doubt.

Soon he and Cody were alone; the General closed the door firmly and sat back down, pulling out the chair next to his Commander instead of returning to the head of the table. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, turning to face the other man, but Cody spoke first.

“I fired at you,” Cody croaked.

“And I left you to be enslaved by the empire,” Obi-Wan replied, voice as brokenly. “You and all your brothers.”

“You didn’t know—”

“I should have. I should have known the vode would never turn on the Jedi, though force knows you of all people in the galaxy had the most right—”

And suddenly Cody was tackling his General, Obi-Wan’s chair tilting dangerously backwards before being caught by the force, the sudden introduction of an armored Marshal Commander throwing it off balance.

“How can you say that!” Cody yelled in Obi-Wan’s startled face, gripping the front of his tunic and shaking him slightly. “The Jedi—not including Krell—are the only ones who ever treated us like humans—how can you say—”

Obi-Wan bowed his head, unable to meet Cody’s eyes. “The war is a lie,” he rasped. “I led good men to their deaths for a lie—”

“I—whatever you’ve learned—you didn’t know, and now that you do, you’re doing everything you can to save us! You remember us killing your entire family—”

“It wasn’t your fault, and it never happened—”

"You remember it.” Cody felt unreasonably furious, hands shifting to grip the sides of Obi-Wan’s head, forcing him to meet his eyes, desperate to make a thousand swirling thoughts clear. 

“You watched us tear your world fall apart and you still care about us, because of course you do. You—you couldn’t walk away from the war anymore than I could, don’t try and pretend otherwise. We both have the resources, the training, to disappear from this mess—but deserting never even occurred to me until I realized—until I thought the war had broken you and I wished you had run away—that I had—”

“Cody—” Obi-Wan said in a strangled voice. “I couldn’t—there’s so much I regretted not saying, but now that I have a second chance, I—I don’t know how to tell you how much you mean, not just to the galaxy, to the war, but to me, how scared I am of breaking the trust between us—I—” he took a shuddering breath. Cody’s heart pounded as he watched the Jedi steel himself.

“From the moment I met you, you were—you are golden in the force, it’s breathtaking, but more than that—” Obi-Wan reached forward, hand shaking as his fingertips brushed the side of Cody’s face.  “I’ve never trusted anyone like I do you—I’ve never been trusted like that—like this. You’ve seen me at some of my worst, and still you never faltered, you just...you glared at me, and then you helped me up and we made things better together and you took my breath away—take my breath away—”

“You drive me insane,” Cody whispered. “I don’t understand why you can’t see how good you are, you care more about the vode then anyone, you care more about enemy soldiers than you do yourself, and it drives me mad.”

Obi-Wan smiled like he wanted to crack a joke but Cody ignored it, not letting the moment go, determined to at least try and get the words out. “I’m always so—so embarrassingly happy just to spend time around you, even when the galaxy is going to hell—I want—you have no idea how much I want to just—sit next to you. I’ve spent two years watching you use your words to patch my brothers up with and tear your enemies down. I want all of that‚ I was raised to expect terrible things but you’re so good. I—”

The Commander broke off, suddenly realizing how close their faces had gotten, how blue Obi-Wan’s eyes were. His heart beat faster beneath his chestplate and he stared in fascination as a pink flush spread across the Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan’s hand traced the curve of his cheekbone; Cody gently tipped his General’s chin upwards—

The door opened and both their heads whipped around to see Waxer standing in the door frame, corners of his mouth starting to turn up as he drank in the scene. Cody realized that Obi-Wan’s face was so close because he had flung himself at the other man’s lap.

The chair toppled over as Obi-Wan apparently lost focus on the balancing act.

“Kix asked me to get you two but I can tell him you need a minute—” he said, and Cody could hear the shit-eating grin, even though he was currently face down, half-way sprawled on top of Obi-Wan.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. We’ll be along shortly,” General Kenobi replied smoothly.

“Yes, sir!” Waxer responded, obnoxiously cheerful.

The door closed. Cody pushed upwards, body giddy and electric as he stared down at the impossible man below him.

“I suppose we should go,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

“Right,” Cody agreed, not moving. He pretended not to notice the obnoxious grating noise of Obi-Wan slowly pushing the toppled chair away, and how it allowed Cody’s shins to fall, more comfortably bracketing the General’s legs.

Obi-Wan stared at him with an unfathomable expression. “I really am very glad to see you,” he whispered. 

“So am I,” Cody replied helplessly.

“...Sorry for crying on you on the way back to the temple.”

“Any time. Thanks for figuring out the whole mind control thing.”

“Of course. We should…really get that taken care of.” Obi-Wan made no move to push Cody off.

The commander swallowed heavily. “You know—brain surgery can be risky—I’d hate for you to have any regrets, if something were to happen...”

Obi-Wan burst out laughing, an edge of hysteria bubbling out as he clasped his palms to his face. Cody watched breathlessly as the Jedi chuckled, then took a few shuddering breaths, before letting his hands fall to reveal wet eyes.

Cody instantly started to pull backwards, but one hand was hooked on the front of his breastplate, the other on the back of his head, and he was being pulled down and then there were lips meeting his and

Oh.

Oh.

Cody melted, absently wishing he wasn’t wearing armour as he reveled in the solid warmth beneath him. The Jedi tasted like field rations and ozone. Cody wondered giddily if he always tasted like lightning, or if that just happened on special occasions.

Obi-Wan clung to the Commander as though he were afraid he might disappear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about doing that,” Obi-Wan gasped, when Cody finally pulled back for air.

“I bet I’ve been thinking about it longer,” Cody murmured into the Jedi’s neck, marveling at the movement of Obi-Wan’s chest below him as it filled with breath. “Time travel doesn’t count!” he added quickly, as he felt the Negotiator gathering his wits to respond.

Commander Cody pushed upward again, basking in the closeness, the fast beating heart he could feel—he almost wanted to cry, because the thought of that heart stopping while he was far away had kept him awake at night and now—now it was closer than ever.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to retort and Cody would hardly be a decent Marshal Commander if he let a tactical opening like that go unchallenged.

Part XXVII

[feverishly-kpop]

Beomgyu & TXT (ft. SKZ Chan) - Infection

“Beomgyu I’m sorry but I’ve got to get you to the hospital” Yeonjun sighed as he pulled the thermometer from his dongsaeng’s lips. “You’re over 40°. This is really not good.”

Taehyun’s eyes grew wide with concern as he glanced over to see what Beomgyu’s temperature was. Sure enough he was running a 40.1° fever. Taehyun tightened his grip around Beomgyu’s waist and set his ice pack back on the nape of his neck as Beomgyu slumped forward, resting his head on the edge of the toilet.

“No…” Beomgyu pleaded with a hiccup. “Please..”

“This isn’t up for negotiation Gyu. Let’s get you something clean to wear then we are leaving” Yeonjun said firmly. Beomgyu didn’t even have the strength to argue this time, simply allowing Taehyun and Yeonjun to pull him off the floor and to his feet.

To say that he was confused was an understatement. Beomgyu was hardly lucid. His brain had powered down hours ago when his fever had spiked and had remained in sleep mode since. Nothing was making sense to him. He just wanted to go back to bed.

*~*~*~*~*~

Nobody had known that Beomgyu was sick. Beomgyu wasn’t even sure if he had known that Beomgyu was sick. But that changed when Beomgyu walked out of his room that morning, his feverishly flushed face covered in sweat and his eyes completely glazed over.

Taehyun had been watching TV as Beomgyu emerged, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Taehyun-ah…” he whispered, his usually booming voice barely audible. “I’m not feeling so well.”

Taehyun was quickly to his feet and calling for Yeonjun, but before he could move Beomgyu out of the doorway he was already getting sick, muttering apologies under his breath between waves.

“What the fuck happened?” Yeonjun quietly asked Taehyun as he dropped the dishes he was washing into the sink and raced to Beomgyu’s side.

“Literally no clue. He came out of his room looking like death and said he was feeling sick, then he immediately threw up…” Taehyun replied, absently rubbing his hyung’s back.

Once Beomgyu seemed to have finished for the time being Taehyun helped him to the washroom to clean up while Yeonjun made his first attempt of the day to reach somebody. Anybody.

Soobin and Heuningkai were participating in a camping variety show for the next few days in a fairly remote area where the reception was, at best, spotty. A few managers had gone with them and the rest were taking a few days off as Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Taehyun didn’t have any schedules. Usually not being able to reach a member or a manager for a few days would be no problem, but then again usually one of them wasn’t as sick as Beomgyu currently was.

Taehyun had been able to get Beomgyu to calm down enough to check his temperature while Yeonjun left a voicemail for Soobin, letting him know that Beomgyu was sick.

“Oh hyung” Taehyung said sadly, glancing at a very pitiful looking Beomgyu sitting cross legged on the closed toilet seat.

“What is it?” Beomgyu managed to croak out, the first words he had spoken since getting sick in the living room.

“39.7°. That’s really high, especially for the first thing in the morning, Gyu-hyung” Taehyun responded as he dampened a face cloth and held it up to Beomgyu’s forehead.

“Shit” was all that Beomgyu responded with as a shutter ran through his body, the fever and the cold cloth leaving him feeling uncomfortably cold. Despite being almost totally out of it, even he knew that nothing good came from a 39.7° fever.

*~*~*~*~*~

Yeonjun and Taehyun spent the next few hours trying to keep Beomgyu comfortable, which was easier said than done when he was out of bed getting sick more than Yeonjun was sure was okay, and trying to get in touch with Soobin, Heuningkai, or a staff member who may be able to help.

But Beomgyu’s temperature creeping over 40° was the final straw. Yeonjun tasked Taehyun with getting Beomgyu changed into clothes that weren’t completely soaked through with sweat while he pulled out his phone, not entirely sure who to call at this point before selecting a name from his contacts.

“Hey what’s up” Changbin answered casually.

“Are you home?” Yeonjun asked curtly, cutting through the pleasantries.

“Yeah…” Changbin responded, clearly recognizing that something was wrong.

“Is Chan-hyung there with you?” Yeonjun cut in.

“He is” was all that Changbin could get out before Yeonjun interrupted again.

“Gyu is really sick and needs to go to the hospital but I can’t get ahold of anybody and we need a ride and I don’t know what to do…” Yeonjun’s panicked rambling was soon cut off by a voice at the other end of the line.

“Yeonjun-ah. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. We will take Beomgyu to the hospital together” Chan said, his voice calm and steady.

“Thank you hyung,” Yeonjun sighed, breathing a sigh of relief for the first time all day.

*~*~*~*~*~

Chan arrived quickly and headed up to TXT’s apartment to find Yeonjun trying to get his shoes on and Taehyun holding up a very feverish Beomgyu who had a waste paper basket clasped in his arms.

“Alright, Gyu, this’ll help a little until we can get you more comfortable” Chan said lightly as he stuck a fever patch to Beomgyu’s forehead.

They decided that Taehyun would stay back and that Yeonjun would accompany Beomgyu and Chan to the hospital. Beomgyu, of course, insisted on walking himself down to the car until he realized that he couldn’t make it more than a few steps without his head spinning, finally agreeing to climb onto Yeonjun’s back.

“Alright, all good?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone upbeat as he sat down in the passenger seat, giving the driver directions to the closest hospital.

“Where’s Soobinnie-hyung?” Beomgyu asked, his satoori coming out strongly.

“He’s out of town with Heuningkai, remember Gyu?” Yeonjun responded, guiding Beomgyu’s head to his shoulder. He cringed at the heat coming off of him before speaking again. “But I’m here, and so is Chan-hyung.”

“Chan-hyung is here?” Beomgyu parroted back. Yeonjun’s stomach sank.

“I’m here, Beomgyu” Chan said, reaching hand back and rubbing Beomgyu’s knee.

“I…forgot…” Beomgyu replied, his voice full of confusion.

“Don’t worry about it! I’m not going anywhere” Chan cut in. “We’re going to get you right as rain, just rest until we get to the hospital.”

“Right as…rain?” Beomgyu repeated, thinking over the turn of phrase with a small smile. Yeonjun was fairly certain that it was the first time he’d seen Beomgyu smile all day.

“Rest, Gyu” Yeonjun whispered in Beomgyu’s ear, running a hand down his back to help him relax as he used his free hand to send out another round of texts, hoping that somebody might have just enough service to receive it:

“Chan-hyung came and is getting Beomgyu to the hospital. He’s over 40°. I have no idea what I’m doing…”

No, scratch that last part.

“Chan-hyung came and is getting Beomgyu to the hospital. He’s over 40°. Will update you when we can. Please call if you get this.”

Send.

*~*~*~*~*~

“Honestly I can’t even tell you how thankful I am that you were available” Yeonjun said quietly from the edge of Beomgyu’s hospital bed to Chan, who was sitting in a nearby chair. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Chan nodded with a smile. “Anytime. You know that. It’s never a problem.”

They had gotten Beomgyu checked in and settled into his bed before a nurse came in to get him hooked up to an IV to get his meds started.

“You’ve got quite the fever. It’s a good thing your friends brought you in to us” the nurse said as she prepped the back of Beomgyu’s hand for the needle.

“They’re still camping” Beomgyu responded with a mumble.

“Camping? Hmm. It is a good weekend for it, isn’t it?” His nurse responded, not missing a beat. “Well, sadly no camping for you, okay? Just lots of sleep. And be sure to press this button if your feel like you’ll be sick, okay” she added, indicating toward the call button.

Beomgyu nodded solemnly, taking her orders seriously. Yeonjun smiled at Beomgyu’s childlike affect.

The nurse then turned to Yeonjun and Chan. “We’ll work on getting that fever down for the next few hours. I’d like to see it under 39.4° sooner rather than later. He’s got an antibiotic in his drip as well as something for the nausea. The infection is obviously pretty severe but he’ll be just fine.” Yeonjun and Chan thanked the nurse as she left the room.

“You don’t have to stay” Yeonjun said tiredly, just relieved that Beomgyu was going to be okay.

“I don’t mind. I have nowhere to be” Chan responded nonchalantly.

“No, really it’s fine” Yeonjun reiterated. “Try to enjoy the rest of your day off.”

“Alright, as long as you keep me updated” Chan said as he grabbed his bag. After saying their goodbyes Yeonjun collapsed into one of the chairs at the head of the bed and pulled his phone out again. No calls or texts in response to his prior messages, but he sent another one anyhow:

“Gyu’s all settled in. Looks like he’ll be here for a few days. He’s got some sort of infection but they’ve got him on some medication and he’s asleep. Hope you get this soon.”

*~*~*~*~*~

Beomgyu slept on and off for the rest of the day, waking up occasionally when his nurse came to check in on him. Yeonjun had tried to close his eyes for a bit but couldn’t seem to drift off, too preoccupied with checking his phone in hopes of hearing back from anybody he had reached out to.

“Hyung” Beomgyu managed to muster enough energy to get Yeonjun’s attention. “Is Soobin-hyung mad at me? Why isn’t he here?”

Yeonjun sighed. Beomgyu had asked this very question no less than half a dozen times since arriving at the hospital and Yeonjun was getting frustrated. He was, of course, not frustrated with Beomgyu. He was delirious and confused. And he wasn’t frustrated with the members and staff that he couldn’t get in touch with. They were working and didn’t have service. He was just frustrated with the whole situation.

“He’s camping, remember Gyu?” He replied kindly but his voice was tired.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting. My brain feels…hot” Beomgyu responded, rubbing his forehead as if it would help ground him.

“Your brain is hot Gyu. You’re running a fever. But your nurse said you’re down to 39.8° so that’s better than when we got here!”

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes already drifting closed again. Yeonjun looked down at his watch. It was already 10:00 PM.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu-ah” he whispered, setting his phone aside and curling up in the chair, finally finding some sleep himself.

*~*~*~*~*~

Yeonjun was woken early the next morning by the sound of footsteps walking - no - running - in the hallway outside of Beomgyu’s room. He stood up, trying to shake off some of the remaining fatigue, and opened the door to find Soobin outside of the door. Yeonjun instantly collapsed into Soobin’s chest without a word, unspeakably relieved to see the leader there.

“I’m sorry” Soobin whispered, wrapping his arms around Yeonjun. “You did well.”

Soobin went on to explain that Heuningkai’s phone picked up a signal late the prior night while they were sleeping so they woke up to all of Yeonjun’s texts and voicemails that morning and booked it back home.

Beomgyu’s nurse knocked on the door a few minutes later. Yeonjun was relieved that the same nurse was back today.

“You must be one of the friends that was camping? Beomgyu-ssi has been asking for you” she said with a smile before gently waking Beomgyu. “Good morning sleepyhead, you have another visitor.”

“I can’t go anywhere without you I guess” Soobin said with a chuckle while the nurse took Beomgyu’s vitals. Beomgyu pouted for a second before chuckling himself.

“You’re still running a good fever but it’s down to 39.2° so we are getting there” the nurse said as she updated Beomgyu’s chart on her iPad. “You seem more lucid that yesterday too.”

Beomgyu nodded, actually feeling capable of having a coherent thought today.

“Alright, Gyu. Back to sleep now. We’ll be here when you wake up” Yeonjun said firmly.

Beomgyu didn’t argue with him, already feeling the tug of sleep pulling him back under.

“Soobin-hyung?” He whispered, already half asleep. “Are you staying? Or going back to filming?”

Soobin smiled, standing up and brushing Beomgyu’s bangs from his forehead. “I’m staying right here, Gyu. No more camping for me this weekend.”

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Nanami

We’ve never seen Hanse and Nanami in the same room before...I’m just saying, the chances of them being the same person are higher than 0...gender neutral reader and no content warnings for this :) 11.8k words

(s/n) = nanami’s screen name

Nanami Kento wasn’t what usually came to mind when one thought of Youtubers. He was a salaryman, wearing pristine suits and going to work at ungodly hours. He had a stern face and rarely spoke about himself unless asked, preferring to keep most conversations short and to the point.

But Nanami didn’t think of himself as a Youtuber. He liked to refer to himself as a home cook who just happened to make videos and post them to Youtube. He had amassed a good two million followers and he didn’t show his face or hands, not even speaking as he cooked.

All Nanami dreamed about when he was at work was coming home and filming his next project. As an avid foodie, he was constantly thinking up new recipes to make. At first, filming himself had been a way of documenting his skills and keeping track of recipes without having to write them down, but as time went on people seemed to become enthralled with him.

“It finally came.” Collecting the mail on an early Saturday, Nanami’s smile was hard to contain as he grabbed the box that was waiting for him. He’d put in an order almost a month ago for this item and as he speed walked back to his apartment, his heart thumped with joy at getting to use it.

“It’s beautiful.” Holding up the cat bread mold, Nanami was itching to get to his kitchen and put it to use. Grabbing his camera, he began to prep his filming space. He was lucky to have such a large east facing window that his dining table could sit in front of and get the perfect light for his videos.

Making sure everything was perfectly positioned, Nanami pressed record and started to add ingredients into his mixing bowl. It was perfectly silent in his apartment, the most ideal environment to film in. Nanami didn’t add any background music to his videos, preferring to let the natural acoustics of his actions shine through.

Waiting for the dough to proof, Nanami flicked through some comments on his Youtube videos. He didn’t really care about what people had to say about his content, he only did this for himself, but sometimes it was nice to see what other like-minded individuals had to say. And he’d be lying if he said the comments about how aesthetic his videos were didn’t make his ego swell a bit.

When the bread was done and popped out of the mold in a perfect cat head shape, Nanami had to bite his lip to stifle a pleased sigh as he turned the camera off. He’d made it a point not to reveal his identity, refusing to let even his whole hand be in a shot and he wasn’t about to let it slip now with a hint of his voice.

“Kento you’ve really outdone yourself.” Biting into a slice of toasted bread with strawberry jam, Nanami smiled fondly at his creation. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this moment for him, not even the sudden knock on his front door.

It was a good thing Nanami was so good at setting up and taking down his cameras and lights, he didn’t want to explain to whoever was on the other side what exactly he did in his free time.

“(Y/N), hello.” As soon as Nanami opened the door and saw you, his next door neighbor, a light blush painted his cheeks. You’d moved in about six months ago into the corner unit next to his and Nanami had been smitten ever since.

“Hi Nanami.” You seemed equally as bashful, waving with a few fingers before tucking your hands behind your back. Meeting his eye for a moment, you let out a nervous giggle. “I was wondering if you’d gotten any mail addressed to me? I was supposed to get a letter from my grandma but I think the mailman might have given it to you instead.”

“Let me check.” Nanami had been so preoccupied with his bread mold that he didn’t bother to check the other mail he’d gotten. Taking a step away from the door, he was about to go further into his apartment but stuttered to a stop. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.” Slowly stepping in and shutting the door, you rocked back and forth on your heels. Nanami was glad you couldn’t look him in the eye otherwise you would have seen the blooming blush going across his cheeks.

He’d wanted to invite you in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake when you first moved in but he wasn’t able to gather the courage and by the time he finally felt ready nearly four months had passed.

“I actually do have it, (Y/N).” Coming back into the lounge room with the letter in hand, he quickly spotted you standing by the dining table looking at the bread he made in awe.

“Oops, sorry Nanami, I didn’t mean to be nosy!” Shuffling back, you took one last look at the bread before turning away. “I just saw the cat shape and got curious!” Taking the letter from him, you looked like you wanted to say something more, but held your tongue. “Well, I’ll be go-”

“Would you like to have a piece?” Nanami blurted out, holding out a hand to stop you from walking away.

“Really, you’d let me have some?”

“Sit down, I’ll pour you some tea.” Pulling out a chair for you, Nanami disappeared into his kitchen and gripped the countertops tightly. A sense of accomplishment washed over him that nearly beat out the bread; he was finally getting to have tea with you.

“Nanami, this is amazing!” Taking a bite out of the jam covered bread, your brows rose high on your face. “You really made this?”

“Mhmm. I got the mold this morning.” Taking a sip of his own tea, Nanami had to fight the smile on his face from becoming too big at seeing you enjoy his creation. He never usually shared with other people, either eating it all himself or giving it to the elderly ladies down the hall that didn’t know how to use the internet.

“Do you bake all the time?” Scooting to the edge of your seat, you almost looked like a child with a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

“I do, I quite enjoy it.”

The conversation began to revolve around food that Nanami had made, his favorites and yours, and then to just general cooking. It felt good to talk about this side of his life with someone, especially you, and the both of you quickly lost track of time.

“I should get going, Nanami, I feel like I’ve taken up enough of your time.” An hour later, you were standing up from your seat. The bread had quickly dwindled as the conversation wore on and there were only a few slices left.

“I enjoyed our talk.” Letting a full smile grace his face now, Nanami walked you to the door. Bidding you a final farewell, as soon as the door closed Nanami leaned against it, pressing his forehead into the wood and letting out a deep sigh. “You did it, Kento.”

Patting himself on the back for several days, Nanami looked forward to the next time he could see you. You’d let slip that you really liked cookies, so the only thing on Nanami’s mind was getting the perfect cookie recipe and making a batch for you.

Over the course of the next week, Nanami made a new cookie every single day. He knew what flavors you liked but he also wanted to try and give you something new, impress you with his skills and see that pleased look come over your face once again.

He also filmed himself making the cookies as well, making sure the videos were the most aesthetic they could be. He didn’t know if you watched his videos and even if you did he wouldn’t want to know, but on the off chance you saw them, Nanami wanted you to love it.

Finding the perfect recipe after a lot of back and forth with himself, Nanami was ready to share a plate of cookies with you. Sliding out into the hall with the plate tightly clutched to his chest, he turned to your apartment.

Nanami was happy you lived in the corner unit, it felt like he got you all to himself despite only having one proper conversation with you. There weren’t other neighbors trying to steal your attention away; it was perfect.

Right as Nanami knocked on the door, a sharp scream came from inside your apartment and he nearly dropped the plate in shock.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay?” Knocking loudly, Nanami’s body spiked with adrenaline. There was silence on the other end, making him consider picking the lock or calling the building manager.

“N-nanami?” Your voice and body trembled as you opened the door. Quickly giving you a once over, Nanami was relieved to see no physical injuries on you.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you scream?” Eager to get the answer from you, Nanami leaned closer. Squirming a bit, you took a step back and opened the door for him to enter.

“Promise not to laugh, okay?” There was a slight pout in your lips as you spoke and Nanami almost cooed at you.

“I promise.”

“A spider came down from the ceiling and scared me.” Panning over to your lounge room, Nanami couldn’t see any spider. The only things he saw were your furniture and a PC setup off to one side.

“Where is it?” Following you to the desk, Nanami quirked a brow at how impressive the equipment looked. There were two monitors, an expensive looking microphone and a ring light that looked like one he owned.

“Right there!” Grabbing his arm, you flung yourself behind him and pointed at your desk. Right in the middle was a large spider, scurrying back and forth. Balancing the plate in one hand, he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly squished the bug.

“I got it for you.” Folding the cloth back up, Nanami let himself exhale. Having you cling to him had almost stopped him from being able to do anything and he needed all the focus he could get if he wanted to help you.

“You didn’t have to use that, I would have grabbed you a paper towel!”

“It’s alright, it probably would have gotten away if we had waited.”

“Wait!” Grabbing onto the handkerchief before Nanami could tuck it back into his pocket, you gave it a gentle tug. “Let me clean it for you at least.” Nodding, Nanami let it go with no resistance.

Trying not to be nosy, he didn’t dwell too long at your computer, opting instead to follow you to your kitchen. He was pretty sure he saw the title to one of his videos on an open tab and it filled his chest with a flutter.

“What’s on the plate, Nanami?” Your question broke him from his short daydream of talking about his videos with you.

“Huh?” Nanami completely forgot about the plate in his hands, having gotten wrapped up in his own thoughts. Feeling the weight of the plate come back into his consciousness, Nanami cleared his throat. “Oh I uh, I made some cookies for you.”

“You did?” Dropping his handkerchief into the sink, you fully turned to him. Leaning close to the plate, you let out a small hum. “What kind are they?”

“I tried a new recipe out, they’re choux au craquelin with salted caramel cream.” Watching you process the name in your head made Nanami grin. You probably had no idea what he had just said, evident as the dumb nod you gave him.

“Do they go well with tea?”

As Nanami sat at your kitchen table waiting for you to return with some tea, he couldn’t help but look over your whole apartment. It was a simple one bedroom like he had and your furniture suited what Nanami assumed was your taste nicely.

“I almost don’t want to eat one, they look too nice!” Back with some tea, you turned one of the cookies over in your hand.

“If you don’t eat them they’ll go bad.” Nanami teased lightly, taking a bite of one for himself. You let out a little peep and nodded quickly, taking a generous bite of the dessert.

“Nanami.” Gripping the edge of the table, your eyes were blown wide. “This is amazing, I love it!” Whenever Nanami got a compliment, usually from Gojo, he brushed it off and thought nothing of it. But to hear you say that you loved what he made and to see the smile on your face as you take another bite - it made Nanami’s brain overflow with dopamine, a fuzzy feeling tingling the tips of his fingers and warming his chest.

“You really do?” He unintentionally whispers, having to close his eyes lest he stare hearts right through you.

“Mhmm!” Taking a sip of your tea, you giggle a little to yourself. “I feel pretty special too, you made this whole plate just for me.”

You’re special to me, that’s why, Nanami thought in his head, biting the tip of his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. Looking over at your computer setup once more, Nanami decided to comment on that instead of feeding the blush going up the back of his neck.

“You have a pretty nice setup there, (Y/N). Do you make Youtube videos or something?” Leaning back in his chair, Nanami forced his body to relax and his stomach to loosen up. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, a sudden shy demeanor washing over you.

“I’m just trying it out, I wanted to see what streaming and stuff was like.”

“Really?” Nanami had to choose his next words wisely, not wanting to seem too excited. “What’s the name of your channel, I’ll follow you.”

“You will?” There was a hopeful lilt to your voice, yet your body language was still hesitant. “I don’t know, I might get too embarrassed knowing you’ll be watching me.” It was Nanami’s turn to join you in being shy. He made a noise in the back of his throat, quickly taking a sip of his tea to cover it up.

“D-don’t be. I want to support you, that’s what neighbors do.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Nanami slid it over to you. “Go ahead and pull up your channel, I’ll subscribe right now.”

As Nanami left your apartment, fifteen minutes later and with an empty plate tucked under his arm, he was thoroughly surprised to know you wanted to start a Youtube channel. He wanted to help you, give you some tips and ways to make the algorithm like you, but he wasn’t ready to give away his secret just yet.

Sitting at his desk that night with his laptop in front of him, Nanami pulled up your channel. Seeing your first video, aptly titled ‘introduction’, he clicked.

“Hi everyone watching.” You sounded and looked so timid sitting at your desk, wringing your hands in front of you and smoothing them out on the wood as soon as you realized what you were doing. “My name is (Y/N) and this is my channel.”

“Hi (Y/N).” Nanami answered back, snorting at his own silliness.

“I’m going to be posting videos of my life, like vlogs and stuff, but also fun cooking videos! I really admire so many people on Youtube that can cook, I want to try and recreate their recipes! I especially like this one, it’s my favorite channel.” A few different Youtube channels popped up on screen and right in the middle and the one you gestured to was Nanamis.

He didn’t hear the rest of the video where you talked about potential upload schedules and other facts about yourself. He didn’t even hear you say goodbye or notice that the screen had faded to black. All Nanami could think about was the fact that his channel was your favorite.

Watching the other few videos you’d posted, a couple short ones of you running errands or showing off some clothes, Nanami vowed to watch every single one of your videos. Despite being pretty active on Youtube, Nanami didn’t watch a lot of videos himself, but your channel was at the top of his list.

For the next month Nanami waited for you to post a cooking video and while he waited he put out a few videos with easier steps, things you could follow along with even if you had little to no cooking skills.

A ping on his phone on a Saturday night had him walking briskly to his computer. You finally posted a video of yourself cooking one of his recipes, a dish he had made for Itadori’s birthday: a strawberry crepe cake.

“Hi, welcome to my kitchen!” Nanami was immediately smitten within the first few seconds of the video. The apron you had on was cute and tied around your waist with a bow and there was a large container of strawberries just waiting to be used.

As the video went on, Nanami openly chuckled at the mistakes you made from being so nervous in front of the camera, like dropping the egg shells into the bowl and dumping too much flour in right after.

“I’m so nervous to flip the crepe over!” The camera was over your stove now where a crepe was slowly beginning to burn in the pan the longer you waited.

“Don’t be scared, you can do it.” Nanami whispered to the screen, biting his lip as you attempted to flip it over. Managing to do it right on the first try, you let out a loud yelp of victory.

“Oops, I better be quiet! It’s like 2am right now and my neighbor is sleeping!” Upon your admittance, Nanami suddenly remembers hearing a small shout late at night a few days ago that had woken him up for just a moment. “He actually said he’d watch all my videos, so sorry if I woke you up!” Crossing your fingers in front of the camera, you went back to talking about the cooking.

Nanami felt special that you mentioned him in a video and now he wished he was awake to try your cake. You put way more strawberries than he did on it, and your whipped cream application was a lot messier and spilled down the sides but that only made him want to try it more.

“Okay, I’m all done! Let’s put a picture side by side and see how I did.” Holding up a photo of Nanami’s cake, you whined a little at seeing such stark differences. “Well mine isn’t perfectly aesthetic, but I bet it’ll still taste good!”

Was it rational to be annoyed with himself for not being awake at 2am on a Wednesday night to eat a strawberry crepe cake with you? No it wasn’t, but Nanami still felt it. He would have to tell you to cook at a more reasonable time the next opportunity he got to talk to you so he could try your food.

Deciding to do just that, Nanami grabbed his phone and called you. He managed to give you his number after subscribing to your Youtube channel, stating that if you ever needed help cooking you could ask him.

“Hello?” He could almost hear you on the other side of the wall.

“(Y/N), it’s Nanami Kento. From next door.” How many other Nanami Kento’s could you possibly know? Not a lot, he was hoping. You laughed on the other end and he could definitely hear it through the wall.

“Hi neighbor. What’s up?”

“I watched your Youtube video.”

“Y-you saw it?!” You made a noise in the back of your throat and a soft whine followed. “God I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, I told you I’d watch your videos and support you.”

“I know, I just- you didn’t have to call me and say it.”

“I don’t like texting.” Nanami smirked, he could just imagine your face right now hidden under your palm.

“Well, what did you think of it?”

“I liked it, you did really well on the cake. But I do have one complaint.”

“What is it?” You gasped loudly, nearly dropping the phone as you wondered what he could possibly have to say.

“I just wish you’d made it when I was awake, I would have loved to try it.” There was a long pause between you and Nanami could hear you flop onto your couch.

“Really? You would try it?” Nanami let out a short hum of approval. “Let me get some more strawberries then.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it made his own lips tug upward.

Ending the call shortly after, Nanami thought about your conversation while he was filming his own video. Gojo had given him a box of fresh peaches as a gift from his recent vacation and Nanami had his heart set on making a peach tart.

Replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, Nanami wasn’t as careful as he usually was about concealing his identity. He couldn’t find it in him to put on gloves to cover his hands when all he was really thinking about was having cake with you from a recipe he had made himself.

When he was editing, he almost threw out the whole video. There were many segments where his hands were on full display and one where part of his arm poked into the frame as well. But the rest of the video was too perfect to completely toss out and unable to cut out the scenes of his hands, Nanami posted it anyway with a dying hope that his viewers wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

Waking up the day after posting the video however, Nanami was sorely mistaken. He was used to videos going viral and trending for several days, some even getting articles written about them. But going viral for his hands wasn’t something Nanami thought was possible.

The video alone had gotten upwards of 5 million views in just a day and was still steadily climbing. Despite going on all his social media accounts and muting every single word that could possibly have anything to do with him, Nanami still ended up seeing videos and pictures of his own hands on Twitter, with an article about him breaking the internet as well.

And one of the videos he saw had your face in it. Captioned ‘tiktokers reacting to hand reveal’, he felt the need to click on it. What did you think of him?

“So I’ve seen the headlines but I saved my reaction so I could get it on camera.” You spoke hurriedly, wrapped up in a hoodie and blanket as you sat down on the couch, the camera on a tripod across from you. “Time to see the video.”

Nanami waited with bated breath as he watched you watch his video. There were some obvious cuts in the video from where you skipped forward, and right as his hands came on screen your jaw dropped.

“I- I uh-” You were clearly very flustered, slapping a hand over your face and turning away from the screen. “Why is my face burning over some hands?” Laughing in disbelief, you watched the rest of the video and let out a girlish squeal before cutting it off.

Nanami wasn’t proud to admit that he watched your reaction more than a few times, finding an odd sense of pride take shape inside him. You didn’t even know it was him behind the camera yet he was able to leave such a profound impression on you.

With a new and growing fanbase eating up every single thing he posted now, Nanami found it hard to live in anonymity like he used to. Gone were the days of quietly replying or liking comments on his Youtube channel, he now had thousands of comments on all platforms asking to see more of his hands or for him to possibly speak in his next video.

He was eager to know what your opinion on him was now, what you thought of his online persona. You were still making videos of his cooking, your channel having gotten a boost in subscribers from your reaction video, and you sometimes mentioned his channel name.

On a quiet Saturday at half past noon, Nanami found himself lounging lazily on his sofa with his hair still undone and coffee stains on his sweats. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so lax so late into the day but it was also uncharacteristic of him to stay up past 1am watching the silly little livestream you were doing in your kitchen with muffled giggles he could hear coming through the wall.

Staring at the ceiling and drifting in and out of sleep as the TV filled the silence in the room, Nanami almost missed the subtle vibration of his phone against the coffee table if there hadn’t been a lull in the TV.

(Y/N): hey neighbor are you busy?

The message from you had him suddenly alert and focused, sitting straight up and planting both feet on the floor.

(Nanami): no, I’m not

(Y/N): then…

(Y/N): do you think you’d wanna come over and help me bake something? I’m doing my first Youtube collab and I’m so nervous

(Nanami): I’ll be over in five.

He didn’t even wait for your response before leaping from the couch and bolting to his bedroom. Nanami got dressed and ready in record time, splashing plenty of cold water on his face to wake him up even further before slicking his hair back and doing one last check in the mirror before rushing to the front door.

“(Y/N).” He was knocking on your door exactly five minutes after texting you.

“Nanami!” You opened the door with a smile, a light colored tied around your waist that was stained from previous use. “Come on in!” Ushering him across the threshold, you made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

“So, you’re doing your first collab, huh?” Following slowly behind you, Nanami thought of all the emails sitting in his inbox from brands and other content creators alike asking him to promote their product or work on a video together. He ignored them all in favor of anonymity, but if you were to message him about it, he would answer in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, I joined a discord server full of other cooking Youtubers and some of them asked me to collab with them!” The smile on your face was beaming and the excitement in your voice made Nanami’s heart swell with pride.

“Well then, let’s get started.” Grabbing the spare apron you handed him, Nanami panned over the scene before him. Your kitchen wasn’t a total mess yet, the counters were still relatively clear with just a few bowls out and measuring spoons just waiting to be used. “What’re we making?”

“Ha, well…” Scratching your cheek bashfully, you shrugged your shoulders and looked around your kitchen. “That’s where you come in, I have no idea what to make.​​” Letting out a soft chuckle under his breath, Nanami nodded to himself and took a step toward the cabinets.

“What are the others making?” He asked while idly sifting through the ingredients you had.

“Take a look.” Showing him your phone, you swiped through the messages between all of you. There were multiple different desserts being made, recipe ideas being thrown around, all with a specific theme.

“So, you chose the colors of the rainbow?” Nanami skimmed over the messages where you decided colors and it seems you’d been chosen to do blue. He’d just seen someone else who got red go with a strawberry cheesecake with swirls of deep red mixed in with lighter pink.

“Do you know any desserts that are blue, cause I don’t.” Throwing your head back with a whine, you stared at the ceiling and let Nanami get back to digging through your cabinets.

“What about a blue surf cake?”

“A what?” You parroted, and your owlish blink made Nanami’s lips curl up in a soft smile.

“It’s a blue cheesecake that looks like ocean waves, I’ve made it a few times before and you don’t need to bake it.” He’d actually filmed a video on it about a year ago and it was one of his most proud creations. Quickly typing it into your phone, you pulled up his video within seconds.

“Oh thank god he made one.” Sighing in relief, you watched Nanami’s video with rapt interest. “This is perfect! But I don’t have this stuff, this butterfly tea powder.”

“I do.” He’d overbought for that video and had been stuck with the stuff for ages. Turning on his heel, he mumbled something unintelligible before leaving your apartment and reappearing in less than two minutes.

“You’re just giving this to me?” Raising your brows high in shock, you took the relatively full package from Nanami’s hands and opened it, a small cloud of blue powder puffing out upon its release.

“Yes, I want you to do well on this collab.” Turning away from you, Nanami began to grab the necessary ingredients from your shelves.

“Nanami.” Your voice was a bit low and when he turned around your bottom lip was jutted out into a pout.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re the best neighbor ever!” Clutching the powder tightly against your chest with one arm, you raise the other one and rest your hand on his shoulder. “Whenever you need help or want some tea and cookies, just ask me and I’ll do it!” You were eternally grateful and Nanami could feel the sincerity in your words and the warmth of your hand melting into his skin.

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer, so don’t take it back.”

“Never!” You shook your head, clutching his shoulder tightly. “Now let’s make the best damn blue cake ever!”

Standing off to the side, Nanami watched you film your introduction. He felt almost awkward seeing you talk to the camera and talk animatedly about what you were going to make when his own introductions were quiet and calm, slowly panning across his work space and showing what he would be making with captions dotting the screen.

“I also have a friend helping me make this cake, would you like to wave hello?” You glanced at Nanami, fully expecting him to reject your offer but he surprised you by lifting a hand into frame and giving a very brief wave. A little giggle left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up, turning back to the camera. “He’s really good at baking, so with his help hopefully this cake won’t turn out to be a huge disaster.” Laughing to yourself, you waited a few seconds before turning the camera off.

“Give yourself more credit, (Y/N), you’re good at baking too. I bet you won’t even need me.” Going over the ingredients list one last time, Nanami recounted your videos and couldn’t fight a small smirk on his lips. You’d certainly improved but to call you good was a bit of an exaggeration.

“You’re right!” But you were bolstered by his words nonetheless and your chest puffed up with confidence. “I can do this no problem!”

Maybe it was because he was there, or maybe it was because the words he’d said to you before starting had jinxed it, but Nanami was sure any skills you’d learned had regressed severely.

From the first step to the last, there was a fumble on your part. Adding too many ingredients that didn’t need to be there, adding too little of what the recipe actually called for, snacking on the pieces for the crust of the cake and choking on camera from accidentally inhaling a piece - it was almost as if you were trying to appear inept at even the most basic of kitchen duties.

“It took us so long to get here but we can finally add the filling in!” What took Nanami barely 25 minutes had taken you almost an hour to complete. Your apron and fingers were smudged with blue powder and the kitchen was in noticeably more disarray than when you started, clear proof of the trials and tribulations you went through. Silently cheering you on from behind the camera, Nanami held his breath and watched you pour the mixture into its final pan. “Now time to pop it into the freezer and wait for it to set!”

“Time to start cleaning up.” Nanami mumbled to himself as you turned the camera off. Your cooking style was much different than his, pots and pans carelessly thrown into the sink and dirty utensils left on the counter were not things he was used to seeing.

“Do we have to?” You whined as you set the cake in the freezer.

“Will you clean up after I leave?” He quirked a brow at you, a slow smile coming to his face as you groaned and shook your head.

“Alright fine, we can clean up now.” Nanami was already rolling up his sleeves before you could start to speak and your sulky tone made a chuckle come out of him. Flicking on the sink and filling it with water, he could see you gather dishes out of the corner of his eye. It was quiet in the kitchen now without you narrating your actions for the video and Nanami welcomed the silence, it gave him a chance to think about what to say to you next.

“Really, thank you for helping me.” Coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him at the sink, you let your arm rest snugly next to his as you started to help wash the dishes.

“You’re welcome.” Shifting just the tiniest bit closer, Nanami scrubbed away in silence. Without the constant action and ever present camera turned off, the scene between the two of you could almost be described as domestic, as if the two of you had just gotten done cooking for yourselves and not a Youtube video and now were in comfortable quiet as you cleaned up the aftermath.

“I should think about what to make for dinner, all that filming made me hungry.” The adrenaline from the collab was still high inside you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you washed off a sudsy dish.

“What are you in the mood for?” Nanami was either stupidly brave or just plain stupid for leaning into this domestic feeling by asking you that question. He could be crossing a line by trying to imply he wanted to eat with you, essentially overstaying his welcome now that he was no longer needed.

“I kind of want pasta, what about you?” Glancing up at him, you were glad he wanted to stay longer and the proof was felt on the tingling warmth prickling your entire body.

“Pasta sounds good. Red or white sauce?”

“Red. I have a great wine to pair it with.”

“You’re into wine?”

“Not really.” You giggled shyly. “I wanted to start a series where I pair different foods with wines but I got too drunk trying to film the first episode.”

“I would love to see that video, (Y/N).” Nanami snorted loudly, a smirk on his lips as he dried his hands.

“We’ll have to have a private screening then.” Playfully bumping your shoulders together, you followed suit and dried your hands.

“Yes, yes we will.”

Twenty minutes later and dinner was prepared and served, both you and Nanami sitting at your dining table with full glasses of beautiful red wine with the bottle sitting not too far off in case you needed more. Eating quietly and making lively conversation, the wine in your glasses never seemed to dip, always being topped up until the bottle was empty and you were shuffling to grab another bottle.

“(Y/N), how much wine do you have?” Nanami chuckled, a drunken blush coating his cheeks as he watched you open your fridge. He could just barely see the bottom of a few bottles from his position at the table.

“Y-you don’t wanna know!” You laughed far too loudly for the situation and slammed the door closed, handing Nanami the bottle as you collapsed in your seat.

“Well, cheers.” Opening the new bottle and topping off your glasses, Nanami held his up and clinked it with yours when you held it up. Letting the liquid drip down his throat, Nanami looked over at you from over the rim of his glass. You were already cute in his eyes, downright adorable even, but to see you giggly and drunk with him made his heart swell even more.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Whining slightly, you held your glass up in front of your face while your own face burned horribly.

“Like what?” He chuckled in return, mimicking your gesture.

“Like- like- you know!” Waving a hand around, you turned away from him slightly and took a generous sip of wine. Silence hung between you briefly, words left unsaid on the tips of both your tongues yet the fear of possible rejection - or even worse, regret - permeated your drunken minds.

“I’m just having a good time, (Y/N), is that a crime?” Leaning back in his seat, Nanami laughed to himself. He was definitely embarrassed from being caught looking at you like a fool in love but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“You like having dinner with me?” Quirking up a hopeful brow, you rest your elbows on the table and shimmy just a tad bit closer. Your knees brushed under the table and the feeling drew you closer with Nanami pulling his chair in just so he could stretch his legs out and feel your feet begin to tangle together.

“I do, a lot.” It surely beat eating dinner alone for the thousandth time this year. The conversation quickly died down with both of you just silently looking at each other with a half lidded gaze, drunken smiles pushing your cheeks up without you even noticing it.

Soon the food ran cold and the second bottle of wine was emptied and you had to separate to take care of the dishes. Pushing Nanami towards the living room, you made him promise to go sit on the couch while you set the plates in the sink and put away the leftovers.

“Nanami, I have some ice cream if you-” Slightly stumbling out into the living room with a pint of chocolate ice cream, you stopped short upon finding Nanami dozing away on the couch with his body fully stretched out and relaxed.

Going up to the back of the couch, you leaned over it and close to his face, taking in every miniscule detail and pore that you could. Nanami was always so poised around you that it was a rare treat for him to relax like this, especially enough to go to sleep on your couch.

“Nanami…Nanami…” You whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. The action earned you a tired grunt in response and Nanami pushing your hand away and turning further into the couch. Shaking his shoulder again, you giggled when he swatted you away.

Returning the ice cream to the freezer, you grabbed a spare blanket and pillow, nearly dropping them both as you stumbled through your apartment. Throwing the blanket over his body haphazardly, you gingerly grabbed his head and put the pillow underneath it.

“Good night, Kento.” Whispering above his sleeping body, you felt butterflies in your stomach looking at him. You tried to stamp down the crush you had on him, reasoning with yourself that a man this serious and composed would never go for someone like you, but it never worked. You found yourself daydreaming about him constantly when you should have been working, fantasizing about having him join you for a meal or perhaps an outing to the city.

Taking one last look at his sleeping form, you drug yourself away to your bedroom to get some sleep of your own. The knowledge that Nanami was just a few feet away in the living room while you lay in your bed kept you up, nervous fits of giggles erupting from you as your imagination wandered.

Waking up some time later with a pounding headache and early morning light coming through your open curtains, you listened for any sound of Nanami still in your apartment. Taking a brief glance at the time, you expected him to have crawled home by now and be nursing his hangover with a cup of coffee.

Heaving yourself out of bed, you walked as quickly as possible to the bathroom and fumbled in the drawers for some painkillers. Downing a couple with no hesitation, you splashed some cool water on your face before finishing up and leaving the room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Your voice was terribly quiet as your eyes landed on Nanami who was still fast asleep on the couch, completely disheveled with his shirt hiked up to reveal the relaxed muscles of his abdomen. Even deep in sleep he still had prominent abs with the dusting of a light happy trail below his belly button.

Reaching out in a trance, you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, just barely grazing his scalp with your nails. Repeating the motion several times, you worked out any knots he may have gotten during the night and further mussed the tresses.

“Feels good.” Nanami grumbled with his eyes still tightly closed. His voice was impossibly low and groggy as he twisted and turned on the couch. Your fingers went to scratch at his scalp when Nanami’s twisting earned him a tumble right to the ground and a surprised shout sounded upon contact.

“You okay?” Leaning over the couch, you gripped the cushioned backing tightly.

“F-fine, I’m-” Clearing his throat and trying to grab his bearings, Nanami ripped the blanket off him and sat up in a huff. “I’m fine.” As he spoke, he winced, clutching at his head.

“Hungover?” You asked with a small grin. Holding up a finger as he nodded, you made your way to the bathroom to grab the painkiller. “Come grab some water.” Motioning to the dining table, your grin got wider watching him struggle to stand.

“Do you have any coffee?”

Ten minutes later, Nanami was sunk into a dining chair with his forehead plastered to the table. He couldn’t even feel any regret for overstaying his welcome and getting too drunk to go home, all he could feel was a sick churning in his stomach and a throbbing in his head. The coffee had done a good job of waking him up, prompting him to fix his clothes and hair as best he could given the circumstance.

“Here you go.” Setting a plate down in front of him, you tried not to groan as you sat down yourself. Peeling his face off the table, Nanami never thought he could be this happy to see a plate of food.

Barely grunting out a word of thanks, he grabbed his utensils and started eating. His pained stomach slowly subsided, the warm food doing a good job at chasing away any lingering sickness in the back of his throat. It was only when his plate was empty did he realize he hadn’t spoken a single word to you.

“Thank you for the food.” Taking a gulp of coffee, he looked over at your own plate and realized he was still hungry.

“There’s more in the kitchen.” Flicking your chin in that direction, you slowly sipped your own drink as Nanami left to grab more food.

“I’m sorry.” He said once his second plate was empty and he’d already gotten another cup of coffee.

“For what?”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. By a lot.” Grimacing as he looked at the time, he could just imagine the way you were feeling. Had you been able to sleep comfortably last night knowing he was here? You probably locked the door to your bedroom just to be safe, telling all your friends that your neighbor was drunk and passed out on your couch.

“Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind. It’s just like a sleepover.” Finishing the food on your plate, you pushed it away and leaned your head against the back of the chair. It was quiet for a moment with Nanami idly watching you breathe, and then you spoke again. “Do you think the cake is ready?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Letting out a snort, you peeked at Nanami from the corner of your eye and laughed a bit more at his bewildered expression. “The cake we made yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah.” Letting out a rough exhale, Nanami shook his head to clear his thoughts. How could he forget the entire reason he’d come over in the first place? Did the alcohol really have that much of an affect on him?

“It looks set, what do you think?” Gingerly placing the cake tin on the table, you worried your lip as you looked over the cake for any imperfections. It looked perfect in the pan but who knew what would happen when you tried to remove it.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.” Reaching over the table to take the cake out himself, Nanami yelped when you smacked him away.

“No, don’t! What if it all oozes out onto the table?”

“We won’t know until we find out.” He wanted to reach out again but hesitated as he saw the twitch of your hand. “It won’t ooze all out, (Y/N), the cake is perfect.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your fingers curled around the tin; you wanted to believe him but knowing your luck it would end in disaster. But the longer you looked between him and the cake, the more you felt the pressure.

“I know because you made it. You’re a good baker, (Y/N).” Finishing the last sip of his coffee, Nanami pointed a finger at you. “Now either you take the cake out or I will.”

“Fine!” With trembling fingers you pushed the cake up from the bottom, painstakingly watching for any possible defects as it emerged.

“See, I told you it was perfect.” Nanami couldn’t help but feel smug at being right. The cake was picture perfect, not a lump or bump or empty spot in sight. The sigh of relief you let out was loud and completely deflated your chest.

“Thank god.” Setting the cake back in the tin, you stared at it from above, disbelief washing over you. “I can’t believe I really did it.” Laughing breathlessly, you straightened yourself up and glanced at your camera. “Guess I should start filming the reveal.”

“I think I’ll be going now.” Pushing himself up from his chair, Nanami gathered the dishes on the table and set them in the sink, ignoring the urge to stay even longer. He had to shower and change clothes, gather his composure and prepare himself for the work week ahead.

“It was nice having you over.” You mumbled, pushing in the chairs and slowly leading him to the front door. Neither of you really wanted this time together to end but it had to be done eventually. Gripping the doorknob, there was a slight delay before you opened the door.

“(Y/N)...” Drawing out your name, Nanami’s feet were stuck in place. Looking into your eyes, the longer he stared the less he wanted to step out into the hallway and back into reality. Digging his fingers into the doorframe, Nanami let his eyes begin to close softly, his vision turning slightly hazy as he aimed for your lips.

Time was moving too fast and too slow. With the sudden approach of Nanami, it was something you’d dreamed about for a long while, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. But the open setting of where you two were, the sudden slamming door down the hall and noises filtering in from the outside world withdrew you from the moment you’d wanted for so long.

“O-oh.” You hadn’t even realized you’d put your hand up to stop Nanami from coming closer until he made contact. Both of you looked down at your hand in confusion and you turned red for different reasons.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll see you later.” Cutting you off, Nanami kept his head down to try and save face, save himself from you seeing how utterly mortified he was at getting rejected. Taking a generous step into the hall, he made a beeline back to his apartment.

Unable to say much beyond a dejected and nearly silent goodbye, you closed your door shortly after Nanami closed his. Both of you leaned against the respective frames, Nanami cursing himself for being so forward and making you uncomfortable, and you beating yourself up for stopping him in the first place.

It only took a day for you to finish the video and upload it, adding your traditional flair and special touches that made Nanami smile every time he saw them. Trying to ignore the way you two had parted, he focused intensely on the video and every time there was a cut or jump in he recounted exactly what had happened in that moment that made you cut the clip out, be it choking on some crust or dropping the entire mixing bowl on the floor.

“I’m just feeling burnt out from all this social media stuff, I might take a break from cooking for a little while.” That was the last thing Nanami wanted to hear towards the end of one of your monthly vlogs. He’d noticed a slight downtrend in your content output shortly after you posted the collab video and while he hadn’t spoken to you since that fateful night, he hadn’t gotten any hints that you were feeling this way.

“I’ll still be active here and there, I have some other things already filmed and ready to be uploaded and some sponsored stuff for my Instagram but I just…” The heavy sigh you let out as you tried to find the words to articulate your feelings made Nanami frown. Watching the rest of the video with a heavy heart, he took a glance at the time.

“Let me make something to cheer them up.” He mumbled to himself. Yes it was nearing his usual bedtime and he was typically very strict about adhering to the schedule, but you needed him; or at least Nanami hoped you needed him in some way to make you feel better.

Burrowing around in his cupboards, he grabbed random ingredients and placed them on the counter. When Nanami wanted to make something, especially a baked good, he always had a plan on what he wanted to make. But now he was going off the cuff, coming up with a recipe on the fly and hoping it worked. He also grabbed his filming equipment and set it up, hoping that even if the recipe didn’t turn out well you would still find enjoyment in his videos.

It took him nearly two hours to make a chocolate souffle and he didn’t regret a single second of it. His whole apartment was warm and smelled of chocolate, steam rising and blurring the lense of the camera as he presented them. Taking a deep breath that turned into a loud yawn, Nanani felt proud of himself for completing the recipe even if it was an ungodly hour.

He was nearly a zombie by the time he put everything away and uploaded the footage to his computer but he couldn’t find it in him to go to bed just yet. He wanted to edit and upload the video as soon as possible so that you could have something to watch to take your mind off the hard time you were having.

The rising sun was Nanami’s indicator that he’d been up all night without even ten minutes of sleep, but he could proudly say he pulled his first all nighter for Youtube and finished the video right as his alarm went off. Posting it immediately, Nanami rushed around to gather his things and head out the door before he missed his usual train.

Dragging his feet throughout the day, he collapsed on the couch the moment he stepped through the door. He tried to keep up with his work while also checking to see if you’d liked the video or maybe commented but there was nothing from you, not even a cheeky little post on Twitter or your Instagram stories.

Running a dejected hand through his hair, Nanami pulled himself up from the couch and to the kitchen. Thankfully he was meticulous about being clean so there was no mess from last night waiting for him, easing his mind at least a little bit. Making a quick dinner, he ate over the kitchen sink as he thought of what to do next.

It only took a few seconds for him to decide to make another video at that very moment. Shoving the rest of his food in his mouth, Nanami turned to his cupboards once again, quickly deciding to make cookies as his hand landed on a box of chocolate. Ignoring the souffle sitting patiently in the fridge, Nanami set to work making another dish for you with no plan in the foreseeable future of actually giving you any of them.

This habit repeated until the end of the work week when Nanami had quite literally passed out on his couch after the repeated all nighters. None of his videos seemed to have the impact he wanted them to. You didn’t like or comment, your social media posts were either retweets or sponsored content and you hadn’t posted a new video in a while. He could hear you in your apartment sometimes, talking to yourself or playing music and singing along, so he knew you hadn’t run away.

Waking up in a haze well after the sunset, Nanami felt at his wits end. He was doing everything he could to get you to cheer up without having to face you directly and it wasn’t working. He had a fridge full of desserts he was going to give you at some point and a horde of videos up on his channel you could watch but he needed to do something more.

(S/N): hey, I hope you feel better soon

As Nanami prepared for a shower, he wasn’t in his right mind to care about the fact that he’d just messaged you on Twitter instead of through text like he originally meant. Talking to you through his online persona wasn’t something he really wanted to do but he couldn’t turn back now.

Taking a long hot shower, Nanami forgot about the message he sent you, too wrapped up in finally getting to unwind. Doing his nighttime routine and burrowing into bed, he checked his phone one last time.

(Y/N): hearing my idol say this has made my day so much better, thank you so much T_T

“Your idol?” Nanami chuckled to himself, a light blush coming over his face as he sunk into his pillows.

(S/N): you’re welcome. If you ever want to chat about how you’re feeling or anything, I’m open to listen.

Pushing through sleep to send that final message, Nanami tossed his phone onto his bedside table and promptly went to sleep with a small smile on his face.

Generously oversleeping, Nanami woke up in an overheated, messy pile of blankets. Thankful for the weekend, he took his time coming to his senses and getting out of bed. His hand automatically drifted to his phone, tired mind eager to see if you had responded.

(Y/N): I would definitely love to chat!

(S/N): you called me your idol, I take it you’ve been watching my videos for a while?

Nanami had to ask, he needed to know just how much you liked his content. He didn’t have to wait long for a response, just as he poured his first cup of coffee his phone went off.

(Y/N): I’ve been watching your videos since you first started posting!! Your content is the number one reason I started my own channel

(S/N): I’m really touched, I’m glad I could be such a big inspiration for you

(Y/N): you really are! I admire you so much, you’re so serious about your craft

(Y/N): especially the fact that you put out a new video every day this week! I want to be as dedicated as you someday

While your statement bolstered his confidence greatly, it also put a heavy weight on Nanami’s shoulders. As you chatted more and more, Nanami felt the urge to go and make something else to keep the trend of uploading daily. There was a possibility that you were going to start posting again, you’d said so yourself, and Nanami wanted to make it a reality.

Ignoring the food in his fridge and on the counters that still needed to go to you or be eaten, Nanami pushed himself to film two videos that day. It was hard to make sure everything was perfect twice over but he managed and by the end of the day he was sitting at his computer eating flan and editing the videos.

Taking advantage of the weekend, Nanami pulled another all-nighter and filmed as many videos as he could. He ran himself completely ragged between filming, cooking and making sure to message you back consistently. Your conversation progressed naturally, flowing from one topic to another as if you were speaking face to face with each other. Nanami felt the urge to tell you it was him, that your idol was actually your neighbor, but the memory of your rejection still stung and he held off. You probably wouldn’t like him anymore if you learned the truth, so for now he was going to hold off.

By the time Monday rolled around and his alarm went off in the morning, Nanami had gotten a solid two hours of sleep and was nursing a growing headache. Somehow he managed to edit all the videos he filmed, putting them in a little queue to be uploaded everyday while he struggled through the work week.

Zoning in and out for the whole day, it was a miracle that he managed to come home in one piece. Nanami didn’t remember stepping into his office building let alone getting on the train home. Lacking the strength to even eat a proper meal, he stripped down to his underwear and slept on top of his blankets while running a high fever.

Waking up throughout the night in a cold sweat, Nanami knew when he woke up to the sound of his alarm that he couldn’t go to work. With a heavy head and runny nose, just looking in the mirror made him cringe.

“I look like shit.” His voice was gravelly and thick and he had to clear his throat several times after speaking. Leaving a quick message for his boss, Nanami splashed cold water on his face and went back to bed.

The next two days melted into each other and there were several instances where Nanami went into a coughing fit and was sure you could hear through the walls. With only enough strength to feed himself soup and cough medicine, Nanami was left to suffer alone. He heard notifications on his phone go off and every once in a while he would respond to something you sent but for the most part he was dead to the world.

A knock at the door roused him from a deep slumber in the middle of the day, sweating under a pile of blankets but too cold to take them off. He tried to ignore it at first, but the sound refused to stop and through his muddled brain Nanami was sure he could hear your voice.

“C-coming!” Grunting loudly, Nanami’s usually quiet footsteps thumped against the floor. Passing a mirror in the hall, he was glad he at least had an acceptable top and bottom on before he opened the door. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Nanami sniffled loudly as he made eye contact with you and drifted downwards to the stack of mail in your hand.

“I uh, I have your mail.” Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you didn’t know where to look. This was the first time you were seeing each other in two months and Nanami hated that he looked and felt absolutely awful. “Nanami? Are you okay?” The concern on your face was outweighing the awkwardness in the air.

“Not really.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly. “I feel like shit.” His brazen statement made you snort. Taking the mail from your outstretched hand, he was about to thank you when you suddenly spoke.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes scanned his face and the bad dark circles under his eyes.

“No.” Answering truthfully, Nanami didn’t protest when you made the move to enter his apartment, not that he would have stopped you in the first place.

“Let me make you something, you need to eat properly if you want to get better!” Slapping his mail on the dining table, you pointed to the couch. “Go sit down and relax.” Turning on your heel as soon as you finished speaking, you dug around in the kitchen for something to cook. Dragging his feet, Nanami grabbed a small blanket from his bedroom before returning to the living room and taking residence on the couch like you asked.

“I haven’t- haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while.” Coughing loudly, Nanami ran a hand through his hair. He could hear you rummaging through the fridge and making little noises in the back of your throat.

“There sure is a lot of moldy desserts in here.” Looking over his shoulder and into the kitchen, Nanami chuckled watching you pull out some of the desserts he’d filmed and throw them away. They were unrecognizable from when he first made them, all of them having gone bad and disintegrating in their containers. It was a shame he didn’t get a chance to eat most of them, but he was so caught up in filming as much as possible that the thought of having all the leftover food to deal with didn’t cross his mind.

“Hey, how about we order takeout?” Running hot water over a dish that used to have chocolate cake in it, your lip was curled up in disgust.

“Takeout sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, Nanami had taken more medicine at your request and had a plate of steaming food in his hands, his first proper meal in a very long time. Putting on the TV for some light background noise, the two of you ate side by side.

“I’m glad I came to deliver your mail, I was worried about you, Nanami. I could hear you coughing at night.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing for being sick? It’s not your fault! Just promise me you’ll get better soon, okay?” Giving his shoulder a brief squeeze, your fingers lingered on his body for a few seconds before sliding off. There was a comfortable lull in the conversation for a moment, the two of you eating quietly and fiddling on your phone. Nanami tried not to snoop, but he could see you silently watching a Youtube video on your phone.

“Do you want to watch that on the TV?” He asked quietly, sliding the remote towards you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you quickly put the video up for him to watch as well. Nanami wasn’t surprised that it was one of his videos you were watching, he still had many queued up to be posted, but he was surprised that he didn’t remember a single moment of filming said video.

“Look at the flowers he made on the bread!” Pointing to the screen, you lightly stamped your feet on the floor. “I’m so jealous, whenever I try to make focaccia bread like that it always turns out so ugly!” Nanami nodded along silently; once he was finished with the video for the bread he ate it all in one sitting and had a massive stomach ache.

Grabbing your phone, you tapped away in the comment section of the video, leaving an abundant amount of emojis along with your praising words. Going to Twitter, you tweeted about his video as well and as soon as you hit send Nanami got a notification for the post. His eyes darted to see if you had noticed and luckily you hadn’t, but soon there was a flurry of little dings on his phone.

“Woah Nanami, someone sure is messaging you a lot.” You chuckled and Nanami nearly grabbed his phone off the coffee table and threw it across the room; there was no way that you couldn’t see all the messages were from you. You even leaned forward a little bit to take a peek at who it was.

“Y-yeah, they are.” Fumbling to grab his phone before you could put the pieces together, Nanami had forgotten about the plate of food in his lap and it slid to the ground, immediately beginning to soak into the rug and stain it. Letting out a string of curses, Nanami forgot about his phone and rushed to clean up the spilled food.

Hearing his phone clatter to the ground, Nanami was torn between abandoning his cleaning efforts and stopping you from seeing his phone. He tried to stutter something out, a feeble attempt to draw your attention away as you clearly saw your screen name on his phone.

“What’s this?” You asked quietly, too quietly for Nanami’s comfort. He was still stammering out some excuses, but as you picked up the phone and read your name out loud, he knew it was over.

“I can explain.” His adrenaline was pumping and it was making him begin to sweat profusely. He could clearly tell there was a blush on his face much deeper than the one already there from his fever. Picking up the ruined plate of food, he tried to buy himself more time to try and explain what was happening.

Looking you over, all the excuses Nanami had were coming apart. Every word he could say was falling flat, not just because of his illness but because he found it less and less appealing to try and lie. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Nanami turned to face you.

“I...I’m (S/N).” Taking the phone from you, he showed you the Twitter messages between the two of you. As he went through the evidence, his social media pages and Youtube channel, he could see your face changing and he couldn’t read your expression. Worrying his lip, Nanami was afraid to ask what you thought of him now.

“This is insane.” You finally spoke after a few minutes, looking down at your own phone. “Who would have guessed my neighbor would turn out to be my biggest idol, too?” Slapping a hand over your face as you came to terms with the realization, you laughed a little. “Oh god, that means you saw my reaction video to your hands.”

“Yeah, I did.” Laughing along, Nanami let out a sigh of relief. You seemed to be okay with what he just told you and there was something else weighing on his mind. “You know, since I’m already confessing to secrets, there’s something else I need to tell you, (Y/N).”

“What is it?” Tilting your head to the side, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. Forcing himself to make eye contact despite the nerves he felt, Nanami let out one short breath before speaking.

“I like you, a lot.” He was surely running the highest fever he’d ever experienced now, there was no doubt about it. He was absolutely boiling, sweating buckets waiting for your reaction to this news.

“Really?” You whispered, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Really.” Based on your reaction, Nanami was steeling himself for a rejection. He should have known you wouldn’t feel the same way, he was a fool for getting his hopes up and reading into signals that weren’t there-

“I like you too.” Yet here you were, slowly weaving your fingers together and squeezing his hand. You refused to make eye contact anymore, too embarrassed from the onslaught of emotions going through you. Squeezing your hand back, Nanami ran his thumb over your skin.

“Well then, when I’m better I’d like to take you on a date.”

“As Nanami Kento or as (S/N)?” You teased, giggling to yourself as Nanami made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You already know the answer.” Finally able to relax in his seat again, Nanami let a big smile overtake his face when you cuddled into his side. “You shouldn’t be so close, you might get sick too.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Looping your arms together, you suddenly sat up. “Hey, Nanami.”

“Hm?” Turning to face you, Nanami’s eyes went wide as you kissed him. Your lips were soft, a pleasant feeling against his that he wanted to experience again and again. Kissing you back, it was a short interaction as he quickly parted to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t kiss me, you’re going to get sick.” As much as he wanted to kiss you again, he didn’t want to be the reason you wound up in the same position as him.

“I’ll gladly take that risk.” Giving him a peck on the lips and one on the cheek, you resumed your position cuddled into him. “So all that rotting food in your fridge was from your videos?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Next time you want to upload a video everyday, call me, okay? I would gladly like to eat your cooking again.”

“Well you don’t have to wait for that, I’ll cook for you anytime you want.”

“Will you cook with me on my channel?” You looked at him hopefully.

“I’ll think about it.” He would have to make sure you didn’t accidentally expose his identity or your new budding relationship.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Giving him a big hug, you fixed the blanket over the two of you. Nanami wanted to protest and reaffirm that he would think about it, but with the way you were pressed into his side, he couldn’t find it in him.

“Alright, it’s a yes.”

[sunfish-studies]

Cogs

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous:  ‹ VS Umbrella › | Next:  ‹ Celebration ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Last day of summer training camp is here!

For the first time, you’re kind of reluctant rising from the warm and comfortable futon you slept on. However, once you’re mind began to work and realizing yourself that you’re still in the training camp, you jolted awake almost instantly–removing the blanket and began tidying up.

Gathering your facewash and toothbrush to freshen up, you found yourself yawning in between–it’s not just you fortunately, because Yachi did the same.

“I’m sure you’re pretty tired, Hitoka-chan, [Name]-chan,” Shimizu giggled at both of you. “Are you two okay?”

“Yes! We’re sorry!” Yachi was quick to apologize for the both of you.

“Today’s the last day, so let’s do our best.”

“Right!” this time, you’re the one who answered her.

Yachi said she was going on ahead, and that left you still tidying up–you’re thinking of just packed everything because in the evening, you’re already be on your way back to Miyagi. That and Takeda-sensei informed the managers about something so you would have no time to pack freely. After you finished everything, you finally could freshen up and start the day.

Descending downstairs towards the women’s bathroom, you bumped into Kageyama who went to fetch on something he left behind.

“Oh, Kageyama-kun, morning.” You greeted.

“Morning, [Name]-san.” He replied with a nod.

“You seemed energetic, weren’t you practicing with Hitoka-chan the night before?”

“Oh, about that,” you could see the excitement glittering from his eyes, he definitely had good news to present because for the past few days the boy was frustrated. “The tosses finally worked. Coach Ukai gave me some directions and it worked.”

“Really? That’s great!” the excitement was infectious, alright. You knew Kageyama had been working extremely hard to make it successful and after days of failure, he finally nailed it–you were incredibly happy for him. “I can’t wait to see it!”

“If that dumbass could keep up that is,” the raven-haired boy them grumbled underneath his breath.

“Don’t worry, Shoyo-kun changed,” you assured him. “Him, you, and the whole team too. Even Tsukishima-kun. That’s why I can’t wait to see this new Karasuno and the new quick.”

“We will make that quick happen,” Kageyama stated without hesitation. “Because we want to go to the nationals.”

You smiled at him. “I have no doubt.”

.

.

“Uhm, not to be offensive, but,” you found your shoulders shook violently from you tried your best to withstand the urge to burst out laughing and rolling on the floor–it practically costed you your whole will to hold it. “Why are you drooling, Kageyama-kun?”

Yachi watched from the sidelines–you approached Kageyama to gave him his water bottle and from whatever you’re talking about with him, he seemed to be extremely embarrassed. Then the raved-haired boy proceeded to lean closer and whispered something beside your ear–which made Yachi squeaked.

“[Name]-chan and Kageyama-kun is quite close these days, right?” Shimizu suddenly said.

“Yes,” Yachi answered almost immediately. “[Name]-chan said Kageyama-kun asked for her advices and Kageyama-kun usually walked her home after club when it’s too dark.”

“Do you think something else happened between them?” Yachi couldn’t help but feeling fire engulfed her face instantly from Shimizu’s (not-serious) speculation.

“WHA-NO-HEEE!?”

“I’m just kidding, Hitoka-chan!” still, Shimizu pretty much enjoyed the extremely flustered girl’s reaction. “Oh, [Name]-chan, what did you talk about with Kageyama-kun?”

After distributing half of the water bottles, you jogged back to where Yachi and Shimizu stood. You tilted your head before snickering underneath your breath and answered. “He asked something about barbeque this afternoon.”

“How did he know!?” Yachi yelped because mainly the info was shared only between the coaches, who arranged the whole thing, and the managers, who’s in charge to prepare all the ingredients.

“Sawamura probably accidently eavesdropping the coach,” Shimizu pointed out, smiling. “By the way, Hitoka-chan shouldn’t you give the other half away?”

“I-I’M SORRY!!”

.

.

Final match for Karasuno was against Fukurodani–even from all the losses, the boys were still in high-spirits thanks to Sawamura’s short speech. You knew they wouldn’t be disappointed even though they loss so many matches because now they earned several new weapons for the preliminaries.

Through the match, you understood how Fukurodani is called a powerhouse–the players are skilled and knew the opportunities to score even when their receives a bit off. That and Akaashi truly lived up to his name as a setter in the line-up. Also, Bokuto’s insane angle of spikes were sights to see every time.

“That’s an insane cut shot,” Sugawara commented which made Yachi looked at him questioningly, thankfully Shimizu was ready with an explanation.

“Hitting at a sharp angle against three blockers is really tricky. It can be hard on your shoulders if they’re not flexible, too.”

“[Name]-chan, [Name]-chan! Did you see that!? Did you see my awesome cut shot!?” Bokuto called out way from the other side of the court, looking at you expectantly after he pulled-off the move. You glanced towards Sawamura in search of his approval to reply to the excited owl-captain, to which he nodded.

“I saw it!” You replied with a smile. “It’s amazing, Bokuto-san! Do you think you could hit like that again?”

“ANYTHING FOR [NAME]-CHAN!!”

You almost laughed at Akaashi’s look of disapproval, both at you and the owl captain and clearly sent the ‘don’t encourage him’ message to you indirectly. Surely, today’s match was filled with many surprises–Hinata’s feint attack, Kageyama’s unexpected dump, and even the one you’ve been waiting for; Hinata and Kageyama’s new quick. Both you and Yachi instantly screamed in pure glee–hugging each other in excitement.

“You did it! You did it!” Yachi even cheered and jumping. “Nice kill, Hinata! Kageyama-kun!”

“Nice toss, Kageyama-kun! Nice kill, Shoyo-kun! You two are amazing!” You added, grinning widely–the two have been practicing hard for three weeks, and those three weeks of cold-shoulder towards each other too. It was putting quite a strain but now, the two were finally back in action.

The two thrusted their fists to you and Yachi in reply–you two were probably the happiest ever currently.

And the excitement only lasts for a few minutes because they nailed it one time, but not so for another. Probably just luck, still it’s happiness though–they needed to practice more, however it wouldn’t be a problem for the two.

This also could be count as Karasuno’s lucky day–Nishinoya and Azumane’s back attack pulled off perfectly although it’s still out. The libero, of course, was very much frustrated. The synchro-attack worked and you swore Tanaka was crying out of happiness and relief because he could score comfortably.

“Tanaka-san, nice kill!” you cheered, which made him perked up and then laughing in victory.

“Thanks, [Name]-chan!”

From all the matches you’ve watched, Karasuno clearly made a difference in this one–they’re in their top shape. When the score reached 18 for either team, a technical timeout was commenced. Both you and Yachi immediately worked on distributing water bottles and towels.

“Good work, Tanaka-san, Nishinoya-san!” you said, handing them their water bottles.

“Ryu!” Nishinoya suddenly gripped his chest tightly. “Our manager just praises us!”

“I’m feeling blessed, Noya-san!” Tanaka replied, mimicking the libero–and here you thought the heat maybe started getting into them. You panicked for absolutely no reason and then decided to excuse yourself.

“Good work today, Tsukishima-kun,” Tsukishima nodded and muttered a thank you in reply, taking the water bottle from your hand.

“…Is there a way to make your finger stays in place while doing one-touch?” now you’re surprised because he made an attempt to ask first, however you didn’t let it show because you knew how it would piss him off.

“You could tape it to made it stiff enough to receive one-touch,” you suggested in the end. The taller boy hummed in reply before giving you the water bottle back so he could return to the match.

The next match wasn’t going well–for the other team that is. You noticed how Bokuto seemed to be agitated and rash with his moves–he almost hit his teammate with his serve, demanding tosses from Akaashi, and finally, third time’s the charm, when he failed scoring from hitting the net instead. Another score for Karasuno, who managed to turn the match to their favor for the leading score of 20.

“W-was that a block?” Yachi questioned.

“No…” Shimizu replied, rather taken aback by the event. “It didn’t seem to make it over the net, so it was spike miss,”

“Bokuto-san, I mean #4’s movement is also unnatural,” you commented, making the two managers turned to look at you. “He’s been rushing things and has been on the edge ever since the time-out.”

“Now that you’re talking about it…” Shimizu nodded in agreement.

“Akaashi, don’t toss to me anymore!” Bokuto exclaimed, which sounded extremely out of place in the middle of a volley match. Sure, it not only confuses you but your whole team even Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei.

“Do you know about this, [Name]-chan?” Yachi asked and you shook your head immediately.

“No, this is the first time I’ve seen Bokuto-san acts like that,” you answered. “And it looks like the team’s already used to this.”

True to your words, the team played like usual as if nothing happened–Bokuto only stared and follow the ball dazedly while the other working to attack and defend. What’s more amazing, with the lack of Bokuto’s participating they’re just as strong–something you would expect from a powerhouse school.

It caught your team off guard for a bit, however on the other hand, Tsukishima also wasn’t fazed a bit–could be seen from how he managed to shut out an incoming spike from #7. If Karasuno scored another, it would be deuce and a chance to turn the tables.

“Nice block, Tsukishima-kun!” you exclaimed, earning a glance and nod from the said boy.

When Asahi went for a usual serve rather than jump-serve, you understood he didn’t want to mess up their chance at winning. Fukurodani’s libero received in cleanly and Akaashi immediately went for a high-toss. Noticing how Tsukishima rushed towards the left, you knew your team lowered their guard.

“The left! Don’t let it open!” you yelled almost instinctively. Yachi’s soul jumped out of her body from your sudden loud voice, even Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei was taken aback for a few seconds. Bokuto blew the blocker away because they’re only 1.5 block, it’s not even enough to had a one-touch. He killed it with a straight shot down the court and Fukurodani won with two points leading.

Disappointment flared in your team–from the ones on the court, the ones watching from the sidelines, even Takeda-sensei. Coach Ukai could only sigh, Shimizu resumed with her notes, and Yachi felt her shoulders slumped. You smiled bitterly at the turn out events.

“Whoo! Ace!”

“You’re so cool!”

“Nothing beats the ace in the end!”

Fukurodani’s team members started throwing compliments and it made you blinked in confusion–moreover, Kaori and Yukie even jumped in to join.

“Birds of prey!”

“Your hair’s like a great-horned owl!”

Was that supposed to be a compliment…?

“Otohaku-san…!” the call was in a form of a hissed whisper and unexpectedly came from Akaashi himself. The message he sent to you was clear, ‘please, help us this time’–you replied indirectly with pointing to yourself with a look of disbelief present on your face.

‘Me!? What should I say!?’

‘Anything. Just praise him.’

Probably taking a bit pity for the setter, Sawamura nodded to your direction and gave you a smile of reassurance. You wanted to cry from how compassionate he’s being–bless his beautiful soul. That and the look of doneness and a little pleading from Fukurodani’s team was extremely hard to reject.

“Y-You’re amazing! Nothing less from top ace of Japan!” You wanted to slap yourself from the poor excuse of praise. Thankfully it seemed to work magic because Bokuto was instantly revived back to his cheerful and boisterous persona.

“I’m the best afterall!!” he cheered, laughing in victory. “Hey, hey, hey!”

Meanwhile, Akaashi took his sweet time to get off the court to fetch his drink and towel. Although, he did give you slight a bow of gratefulness. In the end, it’s losses all the way for Karasuno, however they acquired several weapons to fight on the national court–it’s not overall a loss because they also gained something new in exchange.

“[Name]-chan! I’m the best, right!?”

“You sure are, Bokuto-san.”

“Stop bothering Otohaku-san, Bokuto-san.”

[illusionsofdreaming]

How about a Cale proposing/asking out Reader for marriage/date?? I love your fics and this is just a thought that I often imagine (It's usually people asking him out but this might be a nice change!? I think...)

Ft: Cale

Tap tap tap tap tap-

It was the soothing rhythmic sound of not getting anything done. Concentration having long since fled the premises as he stared blankly at the notes on the table, watched as the blue nib danced up and down and up and down again.

The notes were important he supposed but his heart wasn’t into it, mind occupied and consistently distracted by a particular receipt on his table.

It’s been several days and he has yet to hear a reply.

He’s not quite sure what to make of it. Certain social rules of this world clashed with his modern-day knowledge of social cues. One would think he’d have an advantage as one who transmigrated into a novel he’d read, but The Birth of a Hero never properly introduced the social decorum of the world in detail. 

Perhaps the only reason he made it thus far with his half baked knowledge of etiquette was thanks to Cale’s trashy reputation which, ironically enough, made people more accepting of his faux pas. Alas, if it weren’t for Hans’ persistent nagging that he should handle this important matter ‘the proper way’, he really wouldn’t have bothered. Now he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would it mean anything if he were to send a follow up letter? Or perhaps he should go there himself-

A knock on his door distracted him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see the origin of his headaches, Hans, peek in. 

“Young master, you have guests from the _________ household and-“

Cale was out the doors before Hans finished.

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

Despite having your back to him it was almost embarrassing how quickly he was able to pick you out amidst the crowd of people.

“__________.” He greeted, snow crunching beneath his boots as he neared your side, he hoped his breathing wasn’t too quick as he’d rushed over as soon as he’d learn of your visit. The burning question rested on the tip of his tongue, the cure-all to his worries as he reached for your hand. “I have been wait-“

“Cale! Just the person I wanted to see!” You turned, smile brightening your features as you pulled him closer, close enough that he could see how the cold had already kissed your cheeks pink. 

“Did you receive-“

“Yes, that’s why I’m here!” 

A flutter of nerves was set alight in his chest that made him weirdly jittery. How unusual. He’d always been so assured of the results of his plans (and he’s confident in his prediction of your response) yet he couldn’t help but feel flustered. He understood nothing of this world’s customs and Hans did mention a response would’ve usually been sent by letter. Does you coming here in person symbolise something he’s not getting again?

Something was pressed into his hand and his heartrate spiked uncomfortably as he glanced down to receive the scroll you passed to him.

He hesitated, frowning at the brown parchment. Noting the ugly frayed edges and wondering, why couldn’t you have just told him what’s written within since you’ve travelled all the way here anyways.

“Take a look.” you urged him and he sighed.

“Can’t you-“ his words faltered off abruptly as he unfurled the paper to reveal a mess of lines and sketches, his mind blanked as he stared uncomprehending at the contents. “W.. what is this..”

“Isn’t it exciting?” you glanced at the paper, delight and unadulterated joy shone through your eyes. “The designs for the waterways are finally complete! We can finally move onto the next phase, I’ve even gathered the others to discuss this! It shouldn’t take long, we just need to iron out the logistics and-“

He’d tuned out as he stared at prototype on the page, his mind struggled sluggishly to make sense of what’s happening. Cale’s expression remained carefully blank as he lifted his head up to look at you and finally noticed the circle of vassals awkwardly standing around them. 

Huh? 

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

“..implementation of the new waterways will greatly improve the situation in the slums and if we...” 

If looks could set things on fire, the conference table would’ve long turned to ashes with how hard Cale’s been glaring. He had rested his two elbows on the oak table, fingers weaved together to create a net that supported his chin. To others, the firstborn son of the Henituse household may seemed to be in a contemplative mood, in truth, Cale had zoned out since the very beginning.

Perhaps there’s been a mistake. Maybe you did not receive it or perhaps he’d missed another social cue. Did he unknowingly commit another taboo?

“…Cale?”

He shouldn’t have listened to Hans’ ridiculous suggestions when he knew he had no patience for the roundabout and overly complex ways people liked to handle things here. He ran a tired hand past his face. Right, next thing he’s going to change in this world would be the removal of all redundant and confusing social constructs. First, he’ll start with the books on courtroom etiquette-

“Cale.”

A hand landing on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts and he looked up to meet your frustrated gaze. He gaped, caught off guard by your ire.

Your long sigh pricked at his conscience but you interrupted him before he could explain himself. “I sent the others out for a break.” You sat on the edge of the table facing him, although clearly annoyed, there was concern in the slight dip of your brows.

“You’ve been distracted the entire meeting Cale.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing against the tension building there. “Sorry.” He admitted softly. 

“Is something on your mind?”

You. 

“It’s nothing.” To admit that his thoughts were in shambles all because of an unanswered letter would’ve been far too pathetic. Gods, when have he fallen so low. “I need a drink.” he decided abruptly and would’ve gotten up and escaped, but you knew him too well. With a subtle shift of your weight that looked all too natural, you leaned forward and your two hands rested against his armrests to support yourself in a comfortable lean, effortlessly and efficiently caging him in. 

“Cale.” Your tone broke no argument. It was clear he was not going anywhere until he cleared this matter up.

He sighed, slumping against the chair in defeat as he dragged his gaze slowly upwards with the reluctance of a child who’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar and was now forced to admit their wrongdoings. He hesitated when he caught a glimmer of something on your shirt. 

Somewhere along the meeting, as the room got warmer you must’ve taken off your thinner overcoat, it would’ve explained why he hadn’t noticed such an obvious accessory from the beginning. But now that he had laid eyes on it, Cale can’t seem to look away. His hand reached out cautiously, brushing over delicate work, the building tension within him eased away as he reminiscences at the nostalgic sight. 

It had only been several weeks ago when he’d went out to find the best jeweller in the Kingdom to have a specific brooch made. A bright golden shield with the Henituse’s family mascot emblazoned on, two magnificent rubies inlaid as eyes. 

With the solid feeling of the brooch under his fingers, his previous worries melted off like sleet to be replaced with an indescribable warmth in his chest.

“It suits you.” he finally says. It really does. 

Cale never liked things made in his honor, but something about you wearing his symbol made him feel a lot of things. 

Your rumble of laughter made him look up and you brushed a hand through his locks, amusement in your eyes. “Is that it? That’s what’s been bothering you all morning?” you mused.

He snorted and slumped forward, resting his face on your lap. “You wouldn’t reject it.”

“Confident, aren’t we?” you laughed and carded your fingers through his hair.

It was the truth which you both knew. He had never been a stickler for rules. The relationship between you happened as a gradual process, you two clicked and it just eased into your daily routine and became the norm. There was never any need or desire to announce it officially. But as someone who transmigrated into this world, who also decided to continue living in it, he wanted to do it your way. Because in the end, even if it was bothersome, annoying and baffled his 21st century mind, the gesture would mean something to you.

Now that he’s solved the mystery, satisfied he didn’t botch up some weird etiquette, he had time to analyse the day’s events and realised one thing. He lifted his head from your lap, “You orchestrated this. The waterways weren’t that urgent.” he deadpanned, stuck between feeling awe that you took all the effort to tease him and indignation that you’d dare.

“It’s not often one gets the chance to fluster you.” you admitted, not at all feeling guilty when you got the chance to witness his bewilderment first hand.

“Aigoo..” he clicked his tongue and in one swift movement, stood from his seat, forcing you to lean back as his arms landed by your sides, effectively reversing your positions. “You’d bother the vassals for this, how bold.”

You blinked innocently up at him. “I bothered no one actually, they all volunteered to help.”

He frowned. Traitors. The whole lot of them. He could actually hear them cheering outside the room. He’s going to have to tell Basen to talk to them about their loyalties soon. Well. Not that it would matter much. He glanced down at the gleaming brooch on your chest and his lips twitched into a satisfied smile despite himself. 

Perhaps there’s a reason behind such silly traditions after all.

Notes: So I combined these two asks because they’re pretty similar and to answer your questions: I believe Cale’s not one for grand gestures and formal things but he’ll occasionally abide by certain traditions if it has special meanings and especially if it’d mean something to you. 

[whisperlullaby]

Don’t Over Do It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1766

Warnings: Violence, mentions of smut, mentions of disordered eating and over-exercising, explicit language.

Summary: Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are.

A/N: Listen apparently it’s sad girl Sunday over here. This is another story from a real life thing that happened to me with a Bucky twist! Thank you forever to @river-soul​ for looking over this story. I hope you guys enjoy and if I missed any warnings please let me know!

"Doll, you okay?" Bucky wondered. "You've been really quiet all morning."

When your eyes darted up, everyone around the table was staring at you.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You looked down at your soggy bowl of cereal. "Actually I'm gonna bring this back to my room. I'm a little tired." 

You got up and left before anyone could object. You made it to your room and almost had the door shut before a metal arm pushed through.

"You don't seem like yourself. Did something happen with Sean last night?"

At the mention of your boyfriend, you flinched. Letting out a sigh you allowed Bucky to step into your room. You placed the bowl on the kitchenette counter and turned to face Bucky.

"It's nothing. Just dumb relationship stuff really," you chuckled but it was a humorless sound. "I'll be fine tomorrow, I promise."

Bucky looked at you skeptically.

"Okay, but if you need anything you know you can come to me. I'm here for you."

Bucky placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he left. When you heard the sound of your door click shut, you grabbed your bowl and dumped it down the sink.

///////

The next day you were sitting in the shared kitchen picking at a bowl of blueberries while scribbling notes in your journal. You heard a chair scrape next to you as Bucky plopped down and leaned onto the table.

"Whatcha writing doll?"

You felt your face flush with heat. 

"I'm just writing down what I'm eating. Making sure it's all healthy, trying to be better about what goes in my body, ya know?" 

Bucky cocked his head.

"That seems like a lot of extra work. I don't think you need to keep track of what you're eating." 

He paused, eyes roamed over your figure. 

"You look great doll." 

You snorted.

 "Yeah okay, Buck whatever you say." 

You closed your journal and stood up.

 "I'm gonna head to the gym. You can have the rest of the blueberries if you want," you offered, leaving before Bucky could say anything to you.

/////////

Three hours later Bucky slammed open the door to the gym where you were dripping sweat on the treadmill.

"Steve said you've been here for hours, doll," Bucky stated an edge of anger in his voice. "You are going to run yourself straight to the med bay if you don't pace yourself."

You turned off the treadmill in a huff and stalked over to Bucky on shaky legs.

"I know my limit, Sergeant. I'm fine. Why are you being so nosey about my life all of a sudden? Yesterday, following me to my room. Today in the kitchen. What's your problem?"

"Yesterday you never made it out of your room. Did you eat anything for the rest of the day?" Bucky’s voice seemed to drip with concern. "You didn't even finish that poor excuse for a breakfast this morning and you've been here for three hours."

Your eyes dropped to the floor. You shifted uncomfortably under Bucky's gaze before your anger spiked again.

"It's none of your fucking business, Barnes. I need to lose a few pounds and how I do that is absolutely none of your concern." 

You started to shove past Bucky but stumbled your vision blurring. 

Bucky caught you as you fell into him.

"Sweetheart let me help you to your room, please." 

You looked up at him and nodded. He helped you into your room and placed you on the couch. You watched him disappear into the kitchen and return with some water before sitting next to you and pulling you into his side.

"Doll, you need to tell me what happened. What's making you do this to yourself?" 

You took in an unsteady breath.

"Yesterday Sean and I were making out in his car. It was getting pretty, um, hot and I went to get on his lap but he pushed me away. He said I was too big to have car sex with, that if I lost a few pounds we could try but he would be uncomfortable with how I looked now. That he couldn’t even attempt to maneuver me in such a small space."

You picked at a loose thread on Bucky's shirt. You didn't realize he had stopped breathing until you looked up at him and saw how red he was.

"He told you to lose weight. Because he couldn't figure out how to fuck you in a car?" Bucky seethed.

You shot up. 

“I don't think he meant it like that. I mean I've been meaning to slim down anyway. I know I put on a bit of weight since starting fieldwork."

Bucky cupped your face in his hands. 

"You've put on muscle, doll. You need it to kick ass, lord knows you can knock me to the mat like a pro. Your body is perfect exactly how it is. You do not need to put yourself through any of that shit to slim down."

Bucky’s thumbs brushed away your tears as they fell. 

"He's not a bad guy Bucky I'm sure he didn't mean to upset me. He's coming over tonight.  I'll talk to him about it."

Bucky sighed and shook his head. 

"If you need me I'm right next door," he offered, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve having someone like you in my life." 

You looked into Bucky's eyes and saw them flash with adoration.

"Oh, doll, you don't need to do anything. You deserve everything I can give you and more." 

Bucky pulled you close and hugged you. You melted into his embrace with ease.

//////

"Hey, Sean! You're just in time. I just finished up dinner."  

"Smells great." He looked at the table full of chicken parmesan, pasta, and garlic bread. "This all for me?"

You laughed. "Well, not all of it silly. I'm going to have some too."

"Don't you think this is a bit much? I thought you were trying to lose some weight. So we could, ya know, have fun anywhere." 

When he pinched the skin of your hips you sucked in a deep breath, willing the tears that pricked your eyes not to fall. 

"I just thought maybe this would be okay? I didn't think I looked that bad."

"Not bad babe just, you can tell you've put on some weight. I'm just trying to help you, do you have a salad? Maybe that'll be better for you instead." 

Just as Sean made his way towards the fridge, your door burst open to reveal Bucky. His chest was heaving and his eyes were shooting daggers.

You looked shocked as you watched him rush over to Sean with malicious intent. "Bucky stop, what are you doing?"

Bucky paused his movements but never took his death glare from Sean.

"I was walking by and I heard what he said to you."

Before you could react Bucky had Sean dangling midair. 

"You are a pathetic excuse for a man and you're lucky I don't beat the shit out of you right here. Have you ever taken one look at Y/N? She is perfect. And you don't appreciate her, she's over here pouring herself over dinner to make you happy and all you can do is worry about her weight." 

You were stunned as you watched Sean struggling in Bucky's grasp.

"Babe, are you going to tell your guard dog to heel and let me down," Sean gasped frantically.

Bucky growled as you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Bucky let him go. He didn't mean anything by it.”

Bucky slowly placed him on the ground. Sean moved around Bucky to face you.

“Babe of course I didn’t mean anything by it. You look beautiful, I just thought you would want to lose some of the baby fat so we could be more adventurous.”

You heard the metal plates shift before you saw Bucky pull back to knock Sean out. You gasped as Sean collapsed on the floor unconscious.

“What has gotten into you!? You heard him, he didn’t mean it he is just trying to look out for me.” You pushed Bucky back. “Why can’t you just listen to him?! He’s right! I just need to watch what I eat. Once I lose the weight I’ll be...I’ll earn his love.”

You looked into Bucky’s eyes and saw his heartbreak in real-time. 

“Y/N. You do not need to lose a single inch on yourself. Sean is a delusional asshat who wouldn’t know a gorgeous dame if she punched him in the face. You do not need to earn a person’s love.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment before you crumbled to the floor sobbing. He rushed over and cradled you to his chest, soothing you with his hands, drawing gentle patterns along your back. Sean started to stir and Bucky gently pushed you off his lap to stand and grab Sean by the collar.

“You are gone. Don’t contact her again and if I hear you’ve been around I’ll make sure you stay out a lot longer than you were,” Bucky threatened before throwing him out of your apartment.

He returned to you and helped you up. You offered him a gentle smile.

“Why did you do that Bucky?” You held your breath while you waited for his answer.

Bucky looked softly into your eyes. 

“Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing inside and out. Hearing what he was doing to you, warping your perception of yourself into something dangerous, I couldn’t live with myself if I stood back and did nothing. I had to protect my best girl.”

He reached out and wiped a stray tear off your face. You smiled from ear to ear and grabbed his hand to press a soft kiss on the palm.

“Thank you,” you told him, eyeing the table of food. “Well I cooked all of this and it’s probably going to get cold if we don’t eat it soon.”

“You asking me to dinner doll?” Bucky smirked.

“Well, it’s a start to thank you for everything you have done for me over the last few days. Besides I’m starving.” You started to turn around to grab the plates off the counter when Bucky grabbed your arm spinning you into him. He kissed you breathless and you were quick to deepen the kiss. 

When Bucky pulled back he was grinning.

“Let’s eat, then maybe I can show you how real men are able to fuck in a car.”