#and if i could cut off my limbs and scoop out my eyes to be normal enough to be loved then i would but thats not feasible

[makeela]

well I guess the thing is is that I don't think anyone has ever actually loved me and I don't think anyone ever will and I just don't think it's very easy to reconcile that information

[zephyrchama]

(Mentions/descriptions of minor injuries, present and past.)

“There, all good.”

“Thanks, Satan.”

Your leg looked much better now that it had been disinfected and bandaged. Not that it was in bad shape to begin with.

Anyone would have thought a dire medical emergency occurred by the way everybody had leaped into action when you fell. Six of the brothers somehow managed to carry you together - one for each limb and another two on the sides to support your back - because they couldn’t pick just one person to help you back to the classroom.

It was incredibly embarrassing. You closed your eyes to avoid making eye contact with any of the other students, but you still heard the hallway whispers and Thirteen’s loud laughter.

Once back inside, Lucifer immediately evacuated his seat behind the podium at the front of the room. You were placed down like a precious glass ornament. Each brother played a different role in patching you up, but you would have been fine on your own.

“This cut kind of reminds me of one I got as a kid.” You twisted your leg around a few times to look it over. “It’s in the same spot.”

Mammon leaned against the back of the chair and grabbed your shoulders. “Are you tellin’ me you cut your leg before?”

“…yes?”

“First time I’ve heard that.” Beelzebub frowned.

Satan nodded thoughtfully, hand on chin, “you’ve never told us this before.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz I just remembered it.” It happened so long ago that you completely forgot.

Asmodeus buried his face in his hands. “How could you be so irresponsible?”

“I was a kid! Kids get scrapes all the time. I probably got it the same way, too.”

“You fell? Well… At least it didn’t scar.”

“Asmo, how d’ya know that?” Mammon asked.

“Because I know every inch of their skin very intimately.” Asmodeus smirked.

Mammon gripped your shoulders tighter. “Ok! Well! So do I!” he growled.

Leviathan came to sit on the floor next to you, looking worried. He fiddled with your pants leg to make sure the hem wouldn’t roll down over your bandage. “So there were other times you got hurt as a kid?”

“I mean, yeah? Bruised my arm pretty badly one time, right here.” You pointed to the spot.

“How come you never told us?” Belphegor asked. He was craning his head up to look at you while laying on the table, which Lucifer hadn’t noticed until that moment. The eldest gave him a push.

Belphegor muttered some choice words and slunk off to get a chair of his own, which he relocated closer to you. It screeched loudly as he dragged it along the floor. Beelzebub just stared and the others flinched, but Satan and Lucifer looked ready for violence until the youngest finally plopped down.

“We’re supposed to know everything about you,” he stated.

“Since when?”

“Since forever,” Leviathan was quick to clarify. “You have to tell us everything, and don’t spare any details.” His sentence ended there, but you swear you heard “the lore…” whispered almost imperceptibly.

“You better not be holdin’ back on us.” Mammon shifted a bit. He appeared to be getting tired of standing, but didn’t want to give up his prime real estate by your side.

“So I have to tell you everything? Like… when a butterfly poked me in the eye?”

A couple of them winced.

“Did it hurt?” Asmodeus asked.

“Did you tear it apart?” Belphegor asked.

“No, I think I was more shocked than anything? Maybe a little? And no!” You glanced down. “Levi, stop taking notes about me.”

Leviathan tutted and swiped out of the notes app on his D.D.D..

These demons and their theatrics. You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re all just overreacting, as usual.”

Satan shook his head. “No, I think you’re under-reacting. There are lots of dangers to humans in the Devildom. You could have gotten a nasty infection.”

Asmodeus gasped, “you could have lost your leg!”

”Or attracted predators,” Beelzebub added.

“On school grounds? Please. At worst I’d only attract Mephisto sniffing around for a scoop for his newspaper.”

Lucifer crossed his arms. You had faith he was going to say something sensible. “At least this isn’t as bad as that time you bruised your rear in the bath.”

There were seven scandalized gasps, including your own. “I told you that in confidence!”

Mammon was yelling in your ear, “how come I wasn’t the first to know about this? Hah?”

Asmodeus lept forward, “show me where!”

“Is it still there?” Satan inquired.

“Do you not trust us anymore?” Beelzebub looked deflated.

“That’s not it, Beel, I just- ack, Levi!” You shouted and shook your bandaged leg as the third-born clung to it desperately.

“It wasn’t my bathtub, right?” he practically sobbed. “Aahhh, I knew I needed to fill it with more pillows. Ahhhh.”

“Why would they be anywhere your tub?” Belphegor took hold of Levi’s collar and wretched him back. By the way he fell, it wouldn’t be odd for Leviathan to get a butt bruise, too.

“If it happened in your room, you would have been there,” you assured, knowing this would start another round of arguing.

The bell signaling next period mercifully rang. You’d never been happier for class to start again. All that was left was to get to your usual seat, which you stood up to do.

“Woah, whaddya think you’re doing?” Mammon put an arm in front of you.

“Going to my seat…?”

“You’re in it, sit back down.” Lucifer said.

You hesitated, giving them a puzzled look. For a moment you considered running past them. A simple cut wouldn’t hold you back, but there were no scenarios where you could outrun them without magic. You narrowed your eyes and sat down as the seven surrounded you again. You got a bad feeling.

“Just make it quick.”

Other students were already starting to filter into the room. You didn’t particularly want to be seen being relocated by these overly doting brothers. You grabbed the edge of the seat as four of them lifted it up, with the others griping about there being insufficient space for them to grab hold anywhere.

[pressureplus]

Can I request Sebastian protecting you from something like the void-mass or the well dweller?

I know you meant Wall Dweller, but I want you to know I pictured one sitting at the bottom of a well on a little pile of coins from people making wishes 💀

This one's a little closer to drabble size, but here you go! Fimshy to the rescue!

Safety

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Chase Sequence & light mentions of Impending Death

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

Y/N had been running from that thing for a while now.

Rapid, loud footfall echoes close behind their own frantic pace, lungs heaving with the weight of the air they'd need to pull for their exhausted vessel to push onwards down the endless stretch of halls and rooms.

The monster that's been hunting Y/N is a tireless one, never slowing and never ceasing. The prisoner knows it's hungry. Hungrier than usual if it's been so determined as to pursue it's prey through what must be nearly twenty rooms, by now.

Their body is growing tired, limbs aching as the adrenaline runs out and they begin to fatigue. The heart that's been pounding in Y/N's chest is slowing down, and the panicked, fast footsteps underfoot are getting slow.

The distance is closing.

The distance is closing quickly.

When Y/N's legs buckle from over-excursion that's it, sending their helpless form crashing to the tiles below. They skid to a stop a few feet away from the exact site of impact just from whatever momentum they had left when they fell.

Y/N screws their eyes shut and braces for the end, the only way that this story could possibly conclude...

"And what do you think you're doing with my Y/N?"

A deep, livid growl lays in the undertone of Sebastian's familiar voice, and a crunch makes Y/N glad that they've averted their gaze, relieved to be saved but knowing they'd not bode well with seeing whatever has become of the wall dweller.

"Y/N, I've been following you for 9 rooms- Are you a fucking track star or something?" A huffy complaint comes from the equally as worn serpent, Y/N's fishy companion going to curl his body around their own.

"I didn't know you were there, that's no fair." They complain back, still panting and sniffling, the sweat practically pooling beneath them.

"That run did a number on you..." The larger of them goes to scoop Y/N up, cradling their limp, recovering body up close to him.

"Sebby, I can-" Y/N is cut off quickly by another little huff.

"Shut up and let me take care of you, no you absolutely can not stand." He rolls his eyes and turns.

Not wanting to fight him on it in such a state, Y/N let's their eyes close slowly and naturally this time, their breathing finally mellowing out.

"Good. Now you rest, little star." Sebastian leans down to kiss his adorable little human on the forehead before giving them the last assurance they'll hear before they pass out against him:

"I'll take it from here."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! 🥰

On being seen

Rated: T

Words: 990

Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie

“Brought you these,” Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. “They’re mine, but you can keep them until …” 

“Until what?” Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. “Until they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?” 

Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddie’s gut like acid. His left hand - the one that’s not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank. 

Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. It’s gone, just like half his face and jaw. 

“You should go,” he says. “s getting dark and your mom will want you home.” 

Dustin looks up, eyes bright. “But-” 

Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. “C’mon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I won’t go anywhere.” 

Dustin hesitates and Eddie’s afraid he’ll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” 

Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers. 

“Henderson?” 

Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor. 

“You haven't heard about…?” 

Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustin’s expression morphs into one of regret.

“Sorry,” he says. “I asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.” 

Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. “Yeah. Okay.” 

Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I could-” 

“I said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.” 

Dustin sighs. “Night, Eddie.” 

The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.

*

When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window. 

There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.

“Fuck, Henderson,” Eddie groans. “I told you to go home.” 

The figure jerks upright with a snort. 

“Shit,” it mumbles. “Sorry, ‘m awake.” 

It’s not Dustin.

Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears. 

“Hey,” says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Eddie, it’s me. It’s Steve.” 

A hand reaches for his. It’s warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm. 

“No,” he rasps. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.” 

Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie can’t see his expression in the dark. Doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind.  

Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says at length. “I just … I’ll go. Just wanted to give these back.” 

He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddie’s breath catches in his ruined throat. 

“Where’d you find these?” 

“Um,” Steve shuffles in his seat. “Saw them lying on the nurse’s desk the other day. Sorry I didn’t return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.” 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he can’t use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground. 

“Here, let me.” 

Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddie’s wrist. 

“This one's special, right?” 

Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.

Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries. 

“My mom's.” 

Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesn’t need to say more. 

“Tell me about her?” 

Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steve’s shadowy face as he settles back in his chair. 

“Why?” 

Steve shrugs. “You’re one of us. I’d like to know more about you.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air. 

“Not sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?” 

“You’re brave and kind and tough,” Steve says, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You’re great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think that’s a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.” 

Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings. 

“Her name was Elizabeth,” he says. “She died when I was seven.” 

Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesn’t switch on the light. He doesn’t need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him. 

Somehow, it isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

More celebration ficlets

[trashcanfanfics]

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

[riality-check]

Steddie with "Is this okay?" or "I saved you a seat." for the i love you without saying it thingy, please...if you're still doing it. :)

I'm super late on this, but here we go, anon! Is this okay? was done here, so I'm doing I saved you a seat.

"In the back, Henderson," Steve calls.

Dustin kind of hates that Steve isn't a loser anymore. He's back to his cool self, which means he's wearing sunglasses and doesn't look away from the road as he talks to Dustin.

He sputters. "Why? I get shotgun!"

"You get shotgun unless we're picking up Max."

"Are we picking up Max?"

"No," Steve says, finally turning to look at Dustin over the frames of his sunglasses.

Dustin wants to break them, but if he does that, Steve will probably stop driving him around.

He kind of needs Steve to keep driving him around. His mom is busy, and God knows Mr. Wheeler won't do it anymore.

"Get in the back or don't get in at all," Steve says.

Dustin rolls his eyes and gets in the back of the Beemer. Steve doesn't even ask if he's good to go before he pulls away from his house and down the street.

He doesn't usually, but a little warning would have been nice.

"I thought we were going to the arcade," he says.

"We are."

"No, we're going in the wrong direction."

In the rearview mirror, Dustin can see Steve sigh so heavily his shoulders move.

And he says Dustin is dramatic.

Steve flips his sunglasses onto his head, pushing his hair back, when they get to shadier streets. "I'm doing someone a favor, then I'm dropping you at the arcade to hang out with your friends. That okay?"

Dustin isn't really listening, not as Steve turns the car into Forest Hills. "I thought you said we weren't picking up Max."

"We're not."

"I know you're not very verbose, but could you give me answers that are more than two words?" Dustin snaps.

Steve parks the Beemer in front of Eddie's trailer and turns back to face Dustin. "Is this answer enough?"

He beeps the horn, and thirty seconds later, the front door slams open. Eddie nearly trips right out of it, all black-clothed, gangly limbs, enough metal on his outfit for Dustin to hear him jangling before he even gets in the Beemer.

"Saved you a seat," Steve says as Eddie opens the passenger seat door.

It takes Dustin a full ten seconds to realize that the smile Steve has on his face is the same one he'd use on girls at Scoops.

Wait.

"Thanks, Stevie," Eddie says, words as rushed as he seems to be. "I don't know when my van is going to get out of the shop, and Wayne needs the truck-"

"It's no problem," Steve says.

Stevie?

Dustin, for once, is speechless. The way Steve drives with one hand as Eddie takes his other one and starts toying with it has something to do with it.

When his mouth can finally catch up to his brain, he asks, "How long have you two been dating?"

"What?" they say.

Eddie drops Steve's hand like it's burning him, and Steve nearly brake-checks them in the middle of Main Street.

"We're not-"

"Why did you-"

"He doesn't-"

"I-"

"Arcade, Henderson!" Steve yells, cutting off the conversation completely. "Get out, have fun with whatever quarters your mom gave you, get a ride with someone who isn't me, thanks!"

"You aren't-"

"Get out or I will keep driving this car with you in it," Steve warns.

Eddie stares, dumbfounded, between Dustin and Steve. His eyes move like he's watching a tennis match.

"Okay," Dustin says, throwing his hands up. He gets out of the car, and not five seconds after he shuts the door, Eddie and Steve start talking.

Loudly.

He'd stay, but he's already late.

He goes into the arcade, straight to the Dig Dug machine where the rest of the party is waiting.

"Dustin, where were you?"

"Did you guys also think Steve and Eddie were dating, or was that just me?"

Max looks away from the machine, causing her to die in the game. "They're not?"

"Apparently."

"When did you find that out?" Lucas asks, looking a little distracted.

"About a minute ago."

"I think things might have changed since then," Lucas says, pointing to the window.

All of them rush to it and look outside. The Beemer is still in the parking lot. Eddie and Steve are still in it, and they're-

"Oh, God, no."

"This is like watching my parents kiss."

"Why Steve?" Mike moans, letting his head drop against the windowpane again and again. "Why did he have to pick Steve? I thought Eddie was better than this."

"It's kind of sweet."

They stare in silence. It's like a car wreck. It's impossible to look away.

Max shakes her head. "You guys made me waste a quarter on Dig Dug. I'm going back to playing."

"Hey, wait up!"

The rest of them rush back. Dustin is the last to look away.

And he laments the fact that he's never riding shotgun again.

Prompts here.

[miyuhpapayuh]

23

“Oh, my head—”

“Shut that up, woman.” Leon cuts Zora’s dramatics off, lightly thumping her nose. She laughs, flicking his hand away.

“Yeah, yeah. My head may be fine, but the rest of me,” she snorts, tucking one of her hands behind her head, getting comfy in the king size bed.

“That's why I'm gonna draw you a bath, silly.” 

“Ugh, he does love me.” She sings, giggling at the many kisses he plants on her lips and face.

“More than life, cupcake.” A single kiss is pressed to her nose and he's disappearing into the adjoining bathroom to get the water going.

Sliding down in the bed, Zora sighs and stretches her limbs, sore as they are, and runs her hands over her poofy hair. It would be nice if she could find a ponytail holder.

Looking to her right, she squints from the loss of her contacts, at the sight of the pretty pale yellow sun high in the sky, the swirls of gray clouds make it that much prettier.

A yelp of surprise leaves her as Leon scoops her up from her warm place in the sheets, carrying her directly into the steamy, rose littered bath.

“Aw, how cute is this!” She coos, looking up at him once they're seated, leaning in for a few sweet kisses.

“Anything for you, sugar lumps.” He says, kissing her lips a few more times, before pulling her hair up away from the water.

“Thanks, I couldn't find my scrunchie or anything,”

Drying his hands on the towel closest to them, he flashes her his left wrist, making her gasp at the black elastic band around it.

“Where was it?”

He chuckles, pointing to the counter in front of them. “I think you left it in here at some point, last night.”

“Jesus,” she mumbles, sighing as he gently rakes his fingers through her hair, pulling it into a high, messy bun.

A couple strands fall wayward, leaving him twirling them around his finger.

“When’s checkout time?” She asks, linking their wet fingers together.

“Uh.. twelve, I believe.” He answers, kissing her shoulder as she leans into him.

“Good. More time to soak all of this up. Nique said Valentine's been meowing more than usual.” She says, closing her eyes, stretching and cracking her toes.

“Aw, she lasted longer than I thought.”

“Same,” she laughs, “gotta get her a treat.”

“Oh lord,” he chuckles, peeking down at her as she quiets down.

“You falling asleep on me, girl?”

“Mmm, maybe?”

“Always my sleepyhead,” he laughs, once more, pressing a kiss to the side of her face.

“Sorry, it's just so cozy… I can't help it.” She yawns, drawing a pattern on a hand that's splayed across her belly.

“It's okay,” he assures, “cause you gotta stay up for the rest of the day, anyway.”

“Why?” She asks, popping one eye open.

“V-day misses mama, that's why.”

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“Her custom collar is on its way!” She sings, shoving her phone towards Leon so he could see it.

Bright orange with black hearts, gold nameplate with Valentine carved into it with a tiny heart in the corner.

“How cute,” he snickers, “she's spoiled, already.”

“As she should be! Isn't it so cute?! I know you said it was, but say it again!” She blurts out, laughing at herself before he has the chance.

“Baby, calm down,” he chuckles, rubbing her knee as she bounces her leg in excitement.

“It's very cute. ‘S gonna match her fur real nice.”

She pinches his cheek and settles back beside him, just as Valentine jumps into her lap to curl up.

“I love when she does this,” she coos, rubbing her soft fur.

Her purring had become Zora’s new favorite thing in an instant. It was its strongest when she'd rub between her ears.

Leon fondly shakes his head, before getting up and heading into the kitchen.

“What's for lunch, chef?” Zora snickers.

“Ha. I was thinking about a club sandwich? I won't put tomatoes on yours, I know how you feel about ‘em.”

“Aw, you know me! That sounds so delicious, actually.” She nods.

“See? Great minds,” he points between them for emphasis, making her laugh.

“Want me to help you with anything?”

“Yes. Stay put and play with v-day.” He winks.

She playfully rolls her eyes, mumbling an okay before looking down at her new orange companion.

“You're like Garfield, but so much cuter,” picking her up, she holds her closer to her face, cooing as she reaches out to nuzzle against her cheek.

“Yep. So much cuter!”

After a quick cat nap for them both, the smell of bacon sent Zora toward her dining table where her plate was waiting.

“Oh man, that looks delicious!” She says as her stomach rumbles.

“I hope you love it, bae.”

Quickly washing her hands, she rejoins Leon at the table to finally chow down.

“Did you make homemade fries??” She asks, staring at the thick cut fries on her plate.

“Yeah,” he grins proudly, “I definitely took a trip to the store while y'all were knocked. It just sounded so good. They're the perfect golden I've been tryna get ‘em to, too.”

“Aw,” Zora snickers, pinching his cheek, “you are the cutest chef alive! Did you take a picture??”

“You know I did! I even did a lil video, showing me cutting them up, frying the bacon, plating everything..” he nods, still grinning.

“Throw it on tiktok or something! I bet the people would eat it up!”

“Yeah, I honestly thought about it. But I'm still trying to get all my ideas together for my next career move, so I'll table that for now. Keep it on the top of my stack.” He winks.

Thanking god the redness in her face was hidden, she grabs a half of her sandwich and bites into it, eyes closing at the taste.

“Mmm,” she hums, grabbing a fry next to dip in the aioli sauce, then another one, then taking another bite of her sandwich, all while Leon watches in pure happiness.

“I take it, you're enjoying it,” he says, biting into his own sandwich.

“The thoughts I'm thinking right now are so unholy,” she pauses to lick her fingers, “all because of you and this food!”

He raises a brow at her, to which she responds by raising both back at him.

“What you tryna do, then?” He asks with a chuckle.

She giggles, dipping another fry into the sauce and tossing it into her mouth.

“Better be glad vday ain't so sleepy yet,” Leon says, smiling at her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I'll get you later, though.” He winks.

She continues to giggle and eat her food, while he heads back into the kitchen to clean up.

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Zora took the brief moment she had to sit down and go through her checklist, thanking god for friends like Nique.

After having the dreaded conversation with Linda and having it go way better than anticipated, she felt better knowing she was scheduled til the end of the month and it could go towards her savings for her project.

She'd sent off prints of her artwork to the Mint museum, attaching her contact info to each one just in case they were interested.

Nique had even encouraged her to use social media to her advantage, especially with her not having much on her instagram, having archived everything but her face.

She posted on her page and story about her art, making sure to specifically hide her story from Leon so her journey could remain a secret for now.

On the move again, she moves toward the door and looks back at Valentine.

“Daddy’ll be here soon.” She says, blowing a kiss before slipping out, locking up, almost skating down the steps to her car.

About ten minutes later, there's three plates of nachos between Zora, Neoma, Lovita and Nique as they catch up at their favorite spot, Mi Pueblo.

“So, Nique and I are currently trying to get my art in the mint museum,” she says, laughing as they gasp.

“I know, I know!”

“Dude!” Lovita reaches over to smack her younger sister’s arm. “That's huge!”

“Yeah! I knew something was up!”

“Did you really? Cause Zora said y'all wouldn't catch on!” Nique points out.

“Heffa,” Neoma sucks her teeth, “when you put your canvases away, that was my first clue cause I wanted to know why, but I never asked, see? I waited for you to tell me!”

Zora giggles. “You did good, Nene!”

“So, what have y'all done so far?”

“I've sent in prints of my artwork, told them I've got the money set aside for any fees! I've joined an art group, too! I meet with them next week! It's mostly women— sistas!”

“Ooh, I'm so excited for you!”

“Me too! Look at you go!”

“What did Leon say??”

“He doesn't know much about it, I'm keeping most of it a secret for now.”

“Awww, he's gonna flip!!”

“I know, I cannot wait!” Zora beams. “But enough about me, what's going on with y'all?”

“Wait, you still gon be waitressin’?” Neoma asks.

“Nah, my last day is the twenty-seventh. I'll miss it.” She sighs.

“Aw, poor Linda's gon’ lose her mind without you!”

“She knows I'll never stray too far! I might ask her for some favors, soon… but, do tell thing one and thing two.”

“Girl,”

“Stay doin’ us. Anyway, I'm getting promoted to head chef since I'm such the cook!” Lovita says, cheesing hard.

“That's amazing! Congratulations!” They applaud.

“Yeah, go you! I knew you could cook more than egg and bologna sandwiches.” Nique jokes, making Lovita laugh and flip her off.

“Thanks, y'all. It was really the boost I needed! It also comes with a FAT bonus!”

“How fat we talkin’?” Zora asks as they all lean in.

“Girl fatter than the Fat Boys!”

They all crack up, falling back in the booth simultaneously, wiping tears from their cheeks.

“That girl ain't got no sense!” Neoma says, still giggling as they calm down.

“Okay giggles, what's new with you?” Zora asks.

“Craig and I just celebrated our three month anniversary last week. He took me to the Cheesecake Factory cause that's my favorite place, I ate my chicken and biscuits! Y'all know how I feel about ‘em!”

“Yes, we know,” Lovita nods, while Zora snickers. “But cute, cute! What else?”

“We shared a slice of Oreo cheesecake and it said happy anniversary on the plate, I'll show y'all in a minute, it was so cute! Then we went inside pandora and he got me another charm for my bracelet, it's this little yellow heart!”

“Awww,” they coo, so happy for their little sister.

“I might not have to hurt him after all,” Nique says, and they fall into another fit of laughter.

“Nique got jokes! I hope she got sumn to spill, too.”

“Oop! Well, of course I do! I'm also quitting my job very soon and going back to school full time!”

“What?” They gasp.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us!” Zora exclaims.

“It was so hard keeping it to myself for this long!” Nique laughs. “It started off as just a thought but then I brought it up to Darnell and he offered to help me with my bills so I can go back and get my degree!”

“What?” They gasp even louder this time.

“That's what I said!!”

“That's a good man, there.” Lovita nods. “He gon pay your rent?”

“Mmmhm! I don't gotta worry about nothing!”

“Must be nice!”

“Damn, I'm scared of you!” Zora laughs.

“You sound like ya damn mama,” Nique cracks.

“We're so happy for you!”

“Shoot, we need another round of nachos or something! We can get drinks this weekend if y'all want though, we still gotta drive home.”

“True, true! Put extra queso on those nachos!”

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“Valentine Jupiter Grey, get DOWN from there!” Leon yells, waving her feather toy around to get her attention.

The orange cat had found her way up on his bookshelf, cozying up in the highest nook, which was also the one of the dustiest. He already knew giving her a bath would be another challenge.

He sighs heavily, looking up at her green eyes peeking down at him. She was not moved by his yelling or his choice of toy.

“So, you're just gonna sit up there?” He asks, as if she was going to answer him.

She just blinked and looked towards the window. He scoffed and sat down in his office chair.

“Talkin’ bout she won't be climbin’ on high surfaces and shit.. vday is on my bookshelf! That mug is eight feet tall, and she's just up there chillin’!”

As if she sensed something was wrong, Zora calls.

He answers on the first ring, immediately filling her in on her new feline friend and her misadventure.

“She what?!”

He turns around to look up at her. Ears pointed as she stared at him, still.

“Mmhm, she's still staring at me… nah, she didn't knock anything over, but what if she falls? She's so tiny and watching her jump up there almost gave me a heart attack!” He laughs.

“Good lord! Okay, I'll be there in like ten minutes, okay? Just keep your eye on her.”

“I got you, get here safe. I love you.”

“I love you, sugar booger.”

Soon, mama’s coming through the unlocked door to scold her precious baby kitty.

“Valentine Jupiter Grey,” she says, coming into the room and looking up at the top of the bookshelf. Her ears were still pointed, but she looked scared now.

“What in the world??” Zora yells.

“My exact words, I swear.”

“Did you try standing in a chair?”

“Uh, they're not sturdy enough to hold me up anymore. I thought about that but I would've gotten hurt.”

“You make enough money to buy new chairs, Leon.”

“I know,” he nods, “I've just been kinda busy, lately.” He says, as his eyes flicker back up to Valentine.

“But,” he continues, “what if I hoist you up on my shoulders? I think you could reach her.”

“Yeah? You sure?” She asks, biting her nail.

“You won't get hurt, I promise.”

“Okay, hold on.” She says, placing her phone and purse on his desk and pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

He chuckles, before squatting down so she can hop on his shoulders. She felt like a little kid as he made sure she was secured and ready for him to stand up.

She swore she fell once he completely stood up, clutching his face carefully not to scratch him, and he tightened his arms around her thighs.

“I got you, baby. I got you.”

“Okay,” she huffs, “Valentine, you better be glad you're worth this panic attack!”

Her soft mewls sound, making Zora frown. Her shaky hands just about reach the shelf where she's sitting.

“Okay, move in a bit closer, I can almost reach her.”

As soon as she can make contact, she pulls her off the shelf into her arms, holding her breath once more, as he lowers her back down to the floor.

“Oh my god,” she heavily sighs, sitting on the floor to stop the spinning in her head. Leon grabs a towel to wrap Valentine in, sitting down too.

“Sorry, I didn't think of it before.”

“It's okay, I didn't either. I'm just glad we got her down. Thank you.”

“Of course, love this lil stinker,” he rubs his thumb between her ears, chuckling at her purring.

“Hard headed, I know.” Zora says, laughing as well.

“Alright, bath time!” He says, before standing up and grabbing Valentine from Zora, pulling her up after.

“I'll get the shampoos! Ooh, I found this papaya scented one– it smells like heaven!”

After bath time and putting a sleepy vday in her cat bed, the couple make dinner and head out on the balcony to enjoy the mildly chilly night air.

“Well I can't reveal anything yet, but I'll just say that I'm finally cracking through the glass ceiling.” Zora says, looking from her sweet boyfriend to the pale moon before her.

“I'm already proud of you.” He smiles, kissing the top of her head. She melts, giggling away.

“Thank you baby!”

“Any time. I also have some things in the works.”

“Do you, now??”

“Mmhm. Sounds like we'll both have something to reveal.”

“I'm loving it, honestly.” She laughs, him joining in.

“Me too, baby. When do you meet with your group again?”

“Tuesday! I'm so excited!” She gushes. “I joined the group chat last night and everyone welcomed me in so nicely, it was so cute, I cried a little.”

“You kill me,” he chuckles, “I'm glad they were nice to my baby. Sounds like everything you been looking for!”

“It really is, Av’! I've already got my portfolio together— I put my portfolio together! Like, who am I?” She laughs at herself, watching the smile on Leon's face widen.

“I'm so happy to see you so happy.”

She softly smiles. “You're gonna make me cry!”

“Guess we both finna be in tears,” he shrugs, still smiling at her.

“Stop it,” she playfully warns, already wiping under her eyes. “And thank you, it feels good to be back in the swing of things! I was down for so long, for too long!”

“Hey, give yourself some grace. You went through a lot, and now you're using that as fuel, yeah?”

“Yeah, truly. Ima make the art world my bitch,” she says, cheesing wide.

“That's my girl!”

@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @blackerthings @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @henneseyhoe @honestpreference @blackpinup22 @abeautifulmindexposed @nayaxwrites @twistedcharismaaa @kindofaintrovert @sageispunk @madamzola @soufcakmistress @megamindsecretlair @starcrossedxwriter @slippinninque

[lopsicle]

Catching Up

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Characters: Lee! Blitzø, Ler! Fizz (Can be seen as romantic or platonic, I love BlitzFizz)

Summary: As Blitz and Fizzaroli make up for lost time, Fizz discovers something he didn’t know about his former friend.

Tickletober day 2: Accidental

Warnings: Tickle Fic, innuendos.

Life had never been the same for Blitz and Fizzaroli since their second meeting in the Greed Ring. Sure, they’d reconciled their main issues and managed to air out some of the miscommunication forced onto them in their adolescence, but it had still been a decade and a half since they even just had a regular conversation. It was going to take a lot of work and effort to maintain that friendship, but that was work Blitz was willing to do. He couldn’t lose Fizz a second time.

Sometimes, Blitz would hang out backstage at Ozzie’s, listening to the clown perform his bits to the crowd, hyping him up whenever he had the chance. Sometimes that happened at Mammon’s, but it was rare Blitz would be allowed back there, much less without freaking out about being in the same room as a rockstar he admired from before he was even an adult. Fizz would even pop around to I.M.P sometimes, just his presence there was enough to drive up business so he had a warm welcome.

Though, their favourite thing to do was to just be with each other. It didn’t matter where, they usually preferred privacy but the two were neither careful or shameful, being able to do their business wherever. The pair of scarred imps could go on for hours and hours about whatever came into their mind, it was like they had a years long back log of all the things they wanted to talk about locked up in their brain, but never had the right person to say it too. They were just two sides of the same coin, better together.

One day, the two ended up in the privacy of Blitz’s room, which he (mostly) cleaned up for his guest. They’d both made themselves comfortable, Blitz laying down on his bed, sprawled out with her legs hanging over the edge, and Fizzaroli sitting over on the window sill, switching his face between the lacklustre view of Imp city, and his host.

‘Hey, how much can you feel?’

Fizzaroli’s eyes glanced over back to Blitz at his casual question, tilting his body to face him as he did so.

‘Like, emotionally?’

The clown tilted his head almost unassumingly, to which Blitz threw a nearby pillow at him.

‘Yeah, of course I mean emotionally-of course not, dipshit, of course I meant physically! You know, metal limbs and all,’

He huffed playfully, crossing him arms to which Fizz just chuckled, amused at his frustration.

‘Well, I can feel with my nose just fine! And my insides are…rigged with sensitivity, just ask Ozzie!’

‘I am not asking that feather covered, sparkly whore about how he fucks you.’

Fizz just laughed even harder at that, kicking his legs a little as he hopped off his self made perch, standing closer to Blitz.

‘Ahand, I can new sensors in my fingertips, Ozzy developed them himself to make things more…captivating.’

Blitz rolled his eyes and made a face, maybe a little out of jealousy, but there wasn’t much ill will behind it.

‘So now I can actually feel with them again! You have no idea how much I missed petting animals! And fucking with people, that’s great too!’

He ran his fingertips over Blitz’s still stretched out torso to make his point, to which the imp fucking squealed and curled up in on himself. Fizz tilted his head, sitting by Blitz with the largest shit eating grin on his face.

‘No fuckin’ way your ticklish! How did you hide this from me?!’

He asked excitedly, to which the imp blushed a little, trying to scramble backwards on the bed on his palms but he was quickly scooped up by his friend’s mechanical limbs and pulled closer.

‘Okay, it’s not that big of a deal this I’m ticklish! You don’t have to make such a big deal out of this, you knahaahhahw!’

The demon’s protests were cut off by a couple sharp scratches to his ribs, with a very eager Fizz now positioning himself on Blitz’s hips.

‘Oh, don’t you try and weasel your way out of this one! We’ve got, what, fifteen years of laughter to catch up on, and I’ve never heard you laugh like this!’

As much as Blitz wanted to remain tough and stoic on the outside, it was hard to do that while giggling, much less from your childhood best friend/crush tickling you. He couldn’t deny that the attention felt nice, not in a dirty way, he never expected to really…feel Fizz again due to his body being broken so it was a pleasant surprise. The tickling was just a bonus, though he weakly struggled against Fizz’s body to make it look like he wasn’t enjoying it too much. Though, Fizz saw right through him.

‘Oh, come on now, Blitzy, I’ve seen what your capable of, you could push me off you with ease if you wanted but you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Blitz’s blushing situation went from bad to worse as he shook his head from side to side, he’d normally try and hide his enjoyment under some snarky remark but it was hard to think of one while your sides were being squeezed and tickled. So he just resorted to this.

‘Fuhahahahack you!’

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Fizz chuckled to himself a little, allowing his nimble, dexterous fingers to skitter all over Blitz’s torso. ‘That’s alright, Blitz, you know I don’t just people, kinky or not, but there is no way I am not being in on this! You don’t know how fun this is me!’

Fizz gushed, pulling his hands away as he looked up at his friend excitedly. While Blitz may have rejected an offer like this from basically anyone a month or two ago, Fizz had softened him up in terms of accepting…anything really from others, plus it was a nice bonus that Fizz seemed to be enjoying it a lot.

‘…would you wanna continue right now then?’

‘Oh, with pleasure!’

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 49

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Violence, murder, kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, mentions of forced pregnancy

Could Be Worse

Killer got concerned when neither you nor Kid had come back. He ordered the Victoria to leave. He would call them when it was safe to return. Killer grabbed Mini, sure she would get him to where you were the fastest, and with luck, probably where Kid was, too. Killer hopped on her back and prayed to whatever god would listen, that nothing bad had befallen either of you. Any hope of this was shattered as he approached. One ship was already halfway out to sea, and he saw the unmistakable shape of Kid being taken to another. Killer was in action within seconds, nearly cutting the other ship in half with Scyther Sonic. Then he did cut all the marines in half, rushing to Kid's side before the last one dropped to the ground. He took Kid by the shoulders and shook him, yelling his name. Then he saw the red dripping from his head and nearly broke down, thinking he was fatally wounded. The sob caught in his throat as Kid groaned. Killer put his hand into Kid's hair and felt a long groove where a bullet skimmed his skull. It had to have been seastone or Kid would have reflected it. The force of the impact itself had knocked Kid out. 

"KID! Wake up!" Killer saw a flash of brown as Mini ran over to the ground some distance away and sniffed. "Where is Y/N?!"

Kid felt like his eyeballs were rolling around in his head and his skull was split open. Why was Killer fucking yelling so early in the morning? Couldn't he tell Kid needed his beauty rest? Kid heard your name and his eyes shot open, remembering what had happened. "FUCK!" Kid looked around getting his bearings and saw the lights of several marine ships in the distance. "FUCK!" He grabbed his throbbing head. "She's- He got her." He kept shaking his head. Maybe it was a dream.

Killer wasn't sure he was hearing correctly. "Kid... tell me that's not true." The way Kid looked at him reminded him of the way 13-year-old Kid looked at him when Victoria died. "Tell me it's not true!" He grabbed Kid's shoulders. "What happened?!"  

"I had her in my arms, Kil. I had her. They drugged her or something because she couldn't move. I thought- I thought she was dead at first. But I had her and I was about get her out of there and- everything went white." Kid was suddenly panicking. "We have to get back to the ship! We have to follow them! She's in one of those." He pointed to the ships at sea. 

"I sent the crew off. If they stayed any longer, we were all going to be captured. I told them I would call when it was safe." 

"WHAT! Killer, we can't wait that long!" Kid thought about some of the scars you had and the fear he saw in your face as you recalled details in your memory of what had happened previously. "What if-" Kid put his fist into the dirt.

"I know, Kid. I know." Killer had been thinking about it, too. "We need the crew safe first or we won't be getting anywhere." Killer got up and went to where Mini was. "Now, tell me was she hurt?" Killer squatted to inspect the blood-soaked ground.

"Nah. The guy, his hand was bleedin." Kid curled his lip, "And I put a spear through him. But I missed his heart." Kid pushed himself up after his head had stopped swimming. He picked up your weapons and your jacket, which was shredded.

"Good." Killer scooped up the blood soaked dirt and tore a piece from the fabric at his waist, wrapping the dirt inside to carry it. "We can use this to track them." He looked at the boar. 

Kid held the material of your jacket balled in his fist. "Killer. Wherever they took her. I WANT IT ERASED FROM THE FACE OF THE PLANET!" Kid's eyes were watery. "I DON'T WANT ANYONE TO BE ABLE TO PIECE TOGETHER THEIR BODIES. And if they hurt her.... THE DEVIL HIMSELF WON'T BE ABLE TO PRY THEIR SOULS FROM MY FUCKING HANDS!" Kid screamed until his voice cracked.

——————————————————————————————————

Your limbs felt like lead. That was your first thought waking up. The second was that your mouth felt like sandpaper it was so dry. You moved slightly and heard the unequivocal clink of chains. It was all coming back to you. Your eyes flew open and panic set in. How were you going to escape? They had been successful, as you predicted they would be. Though, you were bewildered at the lack of pain you were in. You weren't even in a cell or on a concrete floor. You thought for sure you would have been abused in some way already. You were actually comfortable, in spite of the circumstances. You were in a medium sized room. The light from the porthole didn't do much to illuminate the surroundings. You were in a bed and there was a door. That was the extent that you could observe. 

A draft tickled your bare legs. You were in a pink, silk nightie, and not much else, something you would never wear of your own accord. Nothing that was about to happen would be of your own accord. Your hands were above you, bound in seastone cuffs. Your legs were shackled as well, with chain enough to walk. Neither end was attached to anything, however. You could move around. You could run. It couldn't be this easy. How would you get the chains off? Where would you go? Where were you in the first place? If you could kill every man on what you presumed to be a ship, with your hands bound, even you would be impressed. There was no way. Besides, Warthin liked to play games like this. He was probably right outside the door. The second you tried to leave he would do something to punish you. 

Actually, fuck it. Bad things were going to happen to you if you stayed or if you tried to run. They would definitely be worse if you ran. They would get worse regardless. You had to try now while your adrenaline was elevated. As soon as it faded, the seastone would drain you. You slid to the edge of the bed, careful not to rattle your chains. You peered out the porthole, seeing nothing but ocean. If you could free yourself, you could use your devil fruit to get away in a rowboat. Fuck, maybe you should crawl out the porthole and get to a rowboat. You might be able to avoid detection. Then, either the Kid Pirates would find you, or you would die. It was more or less the same options here. 

You pressed your ear against the door. There was no one in the hallway. You were familiar with the layout of marine ships. Where would the key be? Either Warthin had it on his person, it was in his office, or it was in the brig with the rest of the keys. The safest option to try now was Warthin's office. You didn't make a sound as you moved into the hallway. You picked up the slack of the chains so they wouldn't clink together or drag across the floor. You rounded a corner. Only two more turns to get there. You pressed your back against the wall when you heard talking. It was two people. You let go of the chains and lifted your arms over your head. As soon as they came into view you smashed the seastone into his skull, took a step, and swung upwards in the same manner, cracking the jaw of the other one. They both fell with an unceremonious thump. Now you had to hurry. You picked up the chains and ran to the office doors. If he was in there, you would be fucked. 

As quietly as you could, you peeked in, then slid the rest of the way in when you saw he wasn't there. You tried not to get your hopes up. There was a large desk that you went straight to, throwing open every drawer, feeling for secret compartments as best you could with clunky cuffs on your hands. You paused at a heavy thunk when you shut one of the drawers. You reopened it to find a gun. No way. And it was loaded. This was your lucky day. This was too good to be true. He was definitely fucking with you. You just had to beat him at his own game. 

You heard voices in the hallway and the rattle of the doorknob. Quickly, you sat on his desk facing the door and hid the gun between your crossed thighs. You took a breath, willing yourself to appear calm. Warthin walked in, smile brightening when he saw you. 

"You're awake! Finally!" He opened his arms like he was going to hug you, coming closer. 

Not yet. He came closer. Not yet. He was almost touching you. You shifted so it seemed like you were leaning in, uncrossing your legs and grabbing the gun from where it was hidden. Your finger squeezed the trigger, but his hand had moved yours enough to redirect the bullet away from him, snatching the gun out of your hands. 

"Tsk. And I thought we were going to get along this time." He put the gun in his waistband and held your hands in one of his so you didn't try anything else. "You tensed right before you shot, and you let the hate flood your features. You gave yourself away, my darling." 

"Don't call me that," you growled. 

He fiddled with the tag on your collar. "What's this? Do you prefer Rotten?"

"Keep that name out of your mouth!" You punctuated your sentiment kicking him where you saw Kid put the spear, knocking him backwards and almost causing you to fall on the floor. 

He grabbed his chest and wheezed in pain. "I tried to play nice with you. Remember that."

You spat on him. "You were never going to be nice for long."

He laughed. "You're right. I wasn't." He grabbed a fistful of your hair. "You know me so well." He pulled you off the desk, taking you back to the room you woke up in. He dragged you over the bodies of the two men you knocked out, not even looking at them. 

You were thrown on the bed. This time he made sure you couldn't get up, attaching the chains to hooks built in. 

"Well. I was waiting for some tests to come back but there's no harm in starting early."

You didn't have any clue as to what he was talking about. 

"So the Kid Pirates huh? How'd you make that deal?" He stood over you, lackadaisically taking his uniform off. "You fuck the captain? I bet you did, you traitorous whore. Is that where you've been hiding all this time?"  

The reference to Kid brought worry to the forefront of your mind. You can been so focused on escaping and survival that you had blocked what happened to him out of your mind temporarily. Was he still alive? You should be worrying for yourself in this moment, but your heart twisted at the thought. All you could think about was seeing him get shot in the head. Over and over again.

"Is that it? Did they rescue you from the ocean in exchange for you to be their whore?" He grabbed your chin. "Or did they take you for themselves and I rescued you from them?" He was down to his underwear. There was a bandage around his chest, wet with fresh blood. The wound reopened from your kick. "Shame I couldn't get my hands on the captain. I wanted to collect a bounty."

"Mine isn't enough?"

The grin on his face was sick. "Oh. I'm not turning you in. Not quite yet. Maybe not at all. You're mine." He got on top of you. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."  

You spilled silent tears while Warthin had his way with you. They weren't for yourself, though he thought they were. At least it made him get off faster. You dissociated and thought about Kid. If he was dead, would they come for you? Killer felt strongly about you. You knew he did.  But he was also the most pragmatic and less likely to put the entire crew at risk for one person. If Kid was alive, they would definitely come for you, right? You had to hope, as foreign as it was for you to rely on someone other than yourself, you had to hope they were coming. It was the one thing that was going to get you through this. 

Warthin rolled off you, sighing. He put his hand over one of yours, just holding it.

That was really weird. He was acting as if you were lovers or something. It wasn't violent at all. It was rape with the intent of sex, not the intent to control. This almost made you sicker than what he normally did. What was his game this time? Psychological? 

"Wouldn't that be great? If it happened the first time? And maybe I could even have it cut out early. Ten months is a long time to wait."

"What are you talking about?" You said quietly, afraid of the answer. 

He splayed his hand out on your stomach. "You're going to have my child." 

You knew that wasn't possible. But how long would it take for him to find out? And what would he do when he did?

Next

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

[cceanvvaves]

growing up; p.jh

(moved to isanggayfrog) warning: none

Jihyo and Y/N have been inseparable the moment they met. The latter arriving in Jihyo's town at the raw age of 4, it was no question as to how the two became so close easily, being the same age, give or take a few months. 

Two girls stood behind their fathers, small hands clutching the men's legs. The slightly shorter of the two stared with wide, curious eyes, wanting to make a new friend but too timid to approach first. Instead, she sent a shy smile, to which Y/n responded with a small one of her own. "Sorry about my daughter," Y/n's father laughed. "I assure you, she's very talkative at home. She's still young, so moving's probably different for her, though I hope she's too young to miss the old house much." Mr. Park looked at her amusedly, pushing Jihyo out from behind. "Go on, say hi."

***

"'M bored," complained Y/n, lazily scribbling a messy 'bear' on her paper. She glanced over at Jihyo's drawing, eyes widening impressed at the much neater flowers. "Look," said Jihyo excitedly, "this one is me" - she pointed at a stick figure in a triangular dress - "and this is you!" she tapped another 'girl' with wiggly lines for hair. The doodles could only be told apart by the dresses' colors, one pink and the other purple. She wrote a barely legible note that said 'Y/n n Jihyo 4evr' with a crossed out 'Jiho' and inverted r. "Really?" Y/n asked brightly, understanding the seemingly alien handwriting. Jihyo nodded. "You agree, right?" "Of course!"

***

"Dad?" Jihyo called up to her father. At 8 years of age, she proved to be a very curious and observant child. "Why do you kiss mommy?" Mr. Park looked into the innocent eyes of his daughter and chuckled. "Because I love her, very, very much." Equipped with this information, she skipped happily to her best friend, pulling her along to the privacy of the bedroom, away from parents' prying eyes. Jihyo suddenly became nervous, which didn't go unnoticed by Y/n.

"What's wrong?" the (still) slightly taller asked, taking her friend's left hand in her own, since the right was hidden behind her back. Slowly, the young Park produced a small, square box, topped with a purple bow. "I asked mommy to let me get it for you," she explained, head bowed. Y/n took it carefully into her hands, slowly lifting the lid and gasping at its contents. A beautiful key pendant shone back at her, its golden glow reflecting in her eyes.

"It's... beautiful," she breathed. "I- thank you- I can't- how can I-" She was cut off by a chaste kiss to the lips, given by none other than Jihyo, oblivious to society's views. "Dad said people kiss when they love each other," she mumbled. "And I love you," she finished matter-of-factly, with a bright smile, which Y/n returned after recovering from the surprise. "I love you, too!"

***

"Did you have fun with Jihyo today?" asked Y/n's mother during dinner. At the mention of her best friend's name, the 8 year old's eyes brightened. "Yes! She gave me a gift. I love her," she finished confidently, scooping some rice into her mouth. Her father frowned. "You love her?" Y/n nodded, "I love her! Like you love mama." Shaking their heads, the parents thought she was too young to know the different kinds of love, so they let it pass, taking it to mean that Y/n loved Jihyo as a sister.

***

A duo of 12 year old girls cuddled by the window, limbs tangled in the covers and staring at the same book. Both of them looked quite untidy, which wasn't really unusual since it was very early in the morning. Y/n and Jihyo had had a sleepover, presently reading Cinderella's story together. "You know, I always wanted to be a princess," Jihyo stated, turning a page. Y/n snorted. "You're already like Cinderella, you somehow manage to lose your shoes and I have to tie your shoelaces." The shorter scowled before retorting, "Well, you're like Elsa, so cold."

"I am not cold. You're like Belle! If books were people, you'd probably marry one." "Then I'll be Belle and you'll be Ariel, you're as clumsy as her, anyway," Jihyo decided. "Nah, I'll be your prince charming," Y/n teased. "Are you implying that I am the beauty and you are the beast?" Y/n feigned a look of hurt. "Rude! And I thought my future girlfriend was a lovely lady." Jihyo blushed.

***

But all the oblivious talk about love and being girlfriends, all the 'dates' and sneaked hugs ceased as they grew older. People started to raise eyebrows when they were a bit too close; it was no longer cooed at like it was when they were 'young and clueless'. With this, the best friends drifted apart, more focused on getting good grades, hanging out with other friend groups and living their youthful life. Their relationship only worsened when Y/n didn't lose her 'childhood feelings'. Jihyo, on the other hand, had gotten herself a boyfriend, no longer having enough time for all her friendships. It was probably because of this they had a fight.

Both sat around a glass bottle among friends, together in a mutual friend's house. The small group was in the middle of a Truth or Dare game. The last player, Nayeon, who'd just danced to the Macarena for 5 minutes, spun the bottle. It landed on Jihyo, who was asked by a mischievous Nayeon after picking Truth, "Was Daniel your first kiss?" Jihyo glanced at Y/n, who either didn't care or wasn't paying attention. "Yes," she said. Y/n stood abruptly and stalked off without a word, leaving the remaining girls confused.

***

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jihyo cornered Y/n at the girl's bathroom. "Why do you care?" she shot back, already having a bad day and not wishing to deal with anything at the moment. "What? Because I'm worried about you, idiot! Your grades dropped when you're usually a perfectionist, you seem to leave every time I enter the room, and you're always grumpy!" Y/n glared, rising up to her full height, trying to intimidate the shorter. "Why don't you hang out with your boyfriend instead, huh? I bet he keeps you busy." Jihyo gasped, offended. Pushing Y/n harshly by the shoulder, she said in a higher voice, "What are you implying, huh?! What's your problem?"

"You! You're my problem! Just because we're older, you left me! Sure, I understand you have limited time, you have to juggle it between studies and socializing, but every time I try to hang out with you, you have to decline for your other friends or boyfriend! Is seeing them everyday not enough? Do you even miss me?" she ranted, pushing her way out and slamming the door, leaving Jihyo bewildered.

***

"Jihyo's here to see you, dear!" Y/n's mother called from downstairs. "I'm busy!" she yelled back, but it was a complete lie. She was simply lying down on her bed and sobbing inside. "You shouldn't lie to my face like that," her visitor said with her arms crossed. Peeking at her from under her arm, Y/n scoffed. "Leave me alone." "That's not nice," Jihyo patted the covers smooth. "Do you remember what we used to do here? You said you'd be my prince charming." She smiled at the memory. "Well, you've found your true prince charming," the taller turned away. "No, actually. We broke up a few days ago. I suppose you didn't know because you've been avoiding me," Jihyo added shrewdly. "Why?"

"'Cause we agreed that we didn't like each other anymore."

"Okay," said Y/n, dropping her head back on the soft pillows and willing herself to fall asleep. But she was interrupted by Jihyo. "Do you remember what happened here when we were eight?"

A flash of memory went through her mind. Of course she remembers, it was the happiest day of her life. No, every moment with Jihyo was the happiest. Her hand subconsciously moved to wrap around the key necklace. The action was noticed by the giver.

"You still have it."

"Yeah,"

Silence.. and then-

"Can I kiss you?"

Y/n shot up in surprise, looking incredulously at her friend. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," Jihyo whispered, scooting closer. Y/n thought for a moment. Jihyo broke up with her boyfriend, so she wasn't ruining a relationship.. "Okay."

Jihyo pressed her lips on Y/n's quite roughly, not as gentle as it was when they were 8. Hands roamed each other's bodies, the atmosphere getting hotter by the second and both girls losing the ability to breathe-

Before it escalated further, Y/n pushed her away. "Was that enough for you?" she mumbled with swollen lips, stretching her collar in desperation to cool down.

"It only ever felt right with you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Y/n grinned. "I'll be your prince charming."

[mykingdomforapen]

more adventures of Frog Guang

(a drabble from the universe of my fic, courage of stars)

-

Lu Guang had proudly named his pet frog Milk Toast. He cultivated a comfortably damp environment for him in his enormous tank and added new leaves almost daily for wont of something to do to spoil his new friend. 

The first day he went to school after his birthday was the most he ever spoken since the beginning of the school year. He told everyone who was willing to listen that he had a new pet frog. The girls shivered until he told them that the frog’s name was Milk Toast, which made them coo. The boys demanded proof of the frog’s existence, and then bombarded him with so many questions that he almost regretted telling them anything. What color was his webbed feet? How long was his tongue? Does he eat flies? Does he ribbit? How high can he jump? Ten centimeters? Fifty? 

He rushed home from school every day to spend time with Milk Toast, which usually took the form of reading books out loud to him. Lu Guang read his frog books out loud, in case Milk Toast was curious what humans liked to say about his kind. He charged Yeye and Maamaa to let him do all the feeding, so that he could choose the best-looking crickets to set into the tank. The crickets were a considerable match for Milk Toast, and Lu Guang stared approvingly as his tiny frog hunted viciously for the insect larger than the size of his head. 

During art class, Lu Guang drew pictures of Milk Toast every time. Whether they used crayons, marker, colored pencils, watercolor, or cut-out pieces of colored paper, Lu Guang created rendition after rendition of Milk Toast. Even when the art teacher asked if Lu Guang would draw flowers, he added Milk Toast on a leaf. When tasked to draw a portrait of little Mei, his desk mate, Lu Guang snuck Milk Toast onto her shoulder, which she did not appreciate as much as he thought she would. 

After school, Lu Guang showed the drawings to Milk Toast through the glass of the tank, as he was fairly certain that at least Milk Toast would appreciate the effort he put into his art pieces. 

“That’s you,” Lu Guang said helpfully as he pointed to the blueish blob with bulging eyes. Milk Toast stared ahead, his little throat puffing rhythmically. 

“This is you too,” Lu Guang said, showing another drawing. “And this is me.”

He pointed to a drawing of himself, who was roughly the same size as the frog and with skinny lines as limbs. Milk Toast shifted in his place, which Lu Guang took as interest. He propped it against the glass so that Milk Toast could continue to admire it.

“This is you with Qi Mei,” said Lu Guang, showing him the portrait of his classmate. “I asked her if she wanted to keep it and she said no, so I think you should have it instead.” 

“Guangguang, it’s dinner!” Maamaa called out. “Hurry and wash your hands.” 

Lu Guang added another new leaf into the tank as a treat before shuffling off to dutifully wash his hands while his grandmother set the table. He toddled to his usual place, next to Yeye, and saw that the table was set for three. 

“What about Ma and Ba?” Lu Guang asked. 

“Ma and Ba are very busy at the library right now,” Maamaa said. “They’ll eat dinner later.” 

“Can I eat dinner with them?” Lu Guang asked. 

Maamaa pursed her lips as she scooped a mound of rice into Lu Guang’s bowl. 

“They won’t be back until you’re getting ready for bed,” she said with a sigh. “Come on, before it gets cold. I worked hard to cook you a good dinner.” 

Lu Guang hid his disappointment by shoveling rice into his mouth. Yeye stroked the back of his head, his hand strong and ticklish. 

“Come on, have some fish,” said Yeye. 

He scooped a large portion of fish onto Lu Guang’s bowl, and a healthy helping of garlic pea sprouts. He tactfully did not offer the frog legs that Maamaa had cooked for the grown-ups, and Lu Guang avoided eye contact with them. He was convinced that Milk Toast would be able to see whatever Lu Guang saw through his eyes, and he would be sorely disappointed if he knew what was going on in the dining room. 

“When will Ma and Ba be done going to the library every day?” Lu Guang asked. 

Maamaa’s eyes flashed with pity. 

“When you go into the fourth grade, little one,” she said.

Lu Guang’s shoulders sank lower. Fourth grade felt like an eternity. The fourth graders towered over him in the playground at school. They were so big and mature and they knew what fractions were. Lu Guang was right now in the first grade. Was he never going to have dinner with Ma and Ba again? 

Maamaa, snapped her chopsticks as she added tomato egg to Lu Guang’s bowl. 

“Eat more, Guangguang,” she ordered. 

He obeyed. After eating more than his fill in dinner, Lu Guang sat at his desk to finish his homework while Yeye walked him through the mathematics. Milk Toast had changed positions during dinner time, which cheered Lu Guang up. He spied on Milk Toast while the frog basked in low light. For the rest of the night, he rested his head in his arms as he watched Milk Toast up close, starry-eyed.

Even when Maamaa ushered him to bed and switched off his lights, Lu Guang crept back to the tank and spied on Milk Toast, watching the frog breathe, sit, and occasionally swim. By the time Ma and Ba came home, and Ma peeped open his bedroom door to spy on him, she found Lu Guang fast asleep at his desk, cheek pressed up against the glass. 

[goated33]

I'm absolutely obsessed with your designs for vaggie and lute and was wondering what your headcanons for them would be?

HEHEHE THANK YOU SM!! And well (rubs my hands together) boy do I have some.

Under cut bc I don’t want to be beat with hammers

To go on about my exorcist hcs for a sec-

So i like to hc heavenborn angels as being distinctly nonhuman. None of the seraphim have noses, Emily’s hair is evocative of her angellic form’s wings wrapped around her head- and this is in their more “human” forms too. I hc them as beings made out of wings, eyes, and parts that look and feel distinctly artificial to humans. They’re like puppets!

Adding on to this, I hc the exorcists as human women who just /barely/ didn’t make the cut into heaven- meaning they got scooped up before they could become demons, but didn’t become winner angels, so they have more human forms without a more angellic form. ( either that or it’s because Adam has a preference for human women. :( )

Anyway, so what ends up happening is that exorcists have heaven-born features-“artificial” limbs, feathers (floof) but are strangely and distinctly human-like. it’s a sore reminder of how they “weren’t meant to be here”

It’s a wee part of the reason Lute usually leaves her helmet on. Most of it is zealous devotion, sure- and she wouldn’t admit it to herself, she might even consider it blasphemy- but just a little part of her hates the reminder with all it’s being.

Anyway.

One possibility is that Lute and Vaggie meet and partnered up early on. During training, during battle, and then during work as they both ascend the ranks. They’re fast friends, they’re a good match for each other.

They’re both rough around the edges and have a love for combat and bloodshed. “It’s been a long time since I killed someone and really meant it.” Etc. They were probably an absolute terror of a pair to piss off- Vaggie’s full and utter readiness to stab somebody for Charlie is only somewhat reined in by Charlie’s aversity to seeing people stabbed to permanent death :( (she wouldn’t have stabbed angels but you know)

I looooove the implications of “you always were weak.” Vaggie being always on that edge of realization, hesitating a bit too much- especially in contrast to Lute. But they’re close enough that she willfully looks over it.

She goes after Vaggie so viciously because she loved her, because that love tainted her, threatened her, and Lute is sooo insecure about her position as a holy being, and she hates how soft Vaggie can be and she’s terrified about how a part of herself loves that blasphemy.

Another possibility is they met through their respective ranks- lieutenant and top exorcist. In this way I think Lute would have liked her a great deal and maybe she took it especially personally when somebody she thought she could trust - maybe even confided in - betrayed them.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Harringrove camp counselors x werewolf au anyone?

Camp starts in a few days, Billy is getting ready for the shift and is thus super grumpy and practically starving. Steve is the only thing that stands between him and doom and destruction.

-

Tomorrow night is the full moon.

Billy's been on a short fuse all morning. Snapped at Jonathan and Keith and anyone else who so much as looked his way.

The only time he's somewhat calmed down all day is when he sat down to eat a little while ago. Of course, he plowed through his meal, and looked mildly upset enough afterwards for Steve to slide his tray over. Billy fixed him with grateful, almost teary eyes before he tucked his fork into the mashed potatoes.

Steve feels bad that he can't offer the usual treatment. Can't have Billy bundled up on the sofa with steak and French fries sitting in front of him at every meal.

The best he can do out here is make sure the tank is full of something, even if it can't be purely protein.

That, and he came absolutely loaded with jerky and Slim Jim's.

By the time mid afternoon rolls around, Billy is sluggish. Sitting by the lake in a lounge chair, umpteenth meat stick in his hand, stomach glaringly full.

He's not as cut as he used to be. Steve appreciates soft abs, thick thighs. Seeing the blond with a rounded tummy like this makes him feel...

Domestic.

Like he could scoop Billy up and lavish him with kisses and attention until he's breathless from it. Or buy him a house.

Whichever.

It's just their luck that someone else would take notice to the fact that they’ve disappeared from the main campground. Eddie's snickering alerts them to his presence before he ever shows up, Chrissy trailing next to him.

"Damn, Hargrove, don't let Keith catch you slacking off," he says. Stands too close for comfort and earns a scoff from Billy. "How many strikes until he boots your ass off the program?"

Munson glances over at Steve, who's been sitting crisscross on the ground flipping through his itinerary, looking over the names of his soon-to-arrive list of campers. Steve shakes his head, raising his eyebrows in hopes that Munson interprets it as lay off. He doesn't, of course.

Just winks at Steve and crouches down next to Billy's chair.

Although Billy's wearing sunglasses, it's obvious from his demeanor that he's glaring daggers at Eddie.

The two aren't exactly friends, aren't exactly enemies. Billy buys off him occasionally. Laughs at a joke every now and then. Playfully flirts back when Eddie deals the first cutesy pet name.

But Billy doesn't put him on a pedestal like other people tend to do. He isn't nice to him just because he's got good weed; no one crosses Billy Hargrove and gets away with it. Something that Steve learned the hard way when they first met.

Before they became friends. Before they were gentle to one another.

So Billy doesn't hesitate to smack Eddie's hand away when he reaches out to pinch teasingly at his side.

"Guess we know the snacks are good at Harrington's place," Eddie teases. "Hell, I'd get fat too if I had name brand shit at my disposal all the time."

Billy grits his teeth. Steve wants to usher Eddie away for him, if for no other reason than it might help Eddie keep all of his limbs intact. But Eddie's too fast and too stupid to be stopped.

He snatches the Slim Jim from Billy's hand and goes to take a bite, but it doesn't make it to his mouth before Billy has risen up from his seat. Steve, fearing the worst, jumps up as well. Readies himself to intervene if he has to, to remind Billy of his own strength before he does any serious damage.

But Billy doesn't pick Eddie up by his throat to strangle the life out of him. No, he manhandles him and swings him over his shoulder, stomping towards the lake with Eddie kicking and screaming all the while.

When he gets nearly knee-deep in the water, he throws him. Far enough out that Eddie actually sinks and takes a moment to resurface.

When he does, he swipes his wet bangs out of his face, clearly about to blow his gasket.

But Billy stays standing there. Chest heaving, shoulders squared, and the anger relaxes off of Eddie's face. Turns into fear, briefly, like he's worried that if he swims to shore, Billy will crush his skull between his hands. Or shove his head under the water and not let it come back up.

Neither of which are too far from the truth, just based on the way that the veins are popping to the surface on the blond’s neck.

Steve jogs out to where Billy stands in the water, setting a careful hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, c'mon, let's go take a walk, huh?" Steve coos.

Gently grabs Billy's hand and guides him out of the lake, leaving Eddie floating just a ways off. Slim Jim bobbing on the surface of the water.

When the two pass by Chrissy, she mouths an I'm sorry to Billy before she jogs out to help Eddie back to shore. And probably to lecture him for being mean, which is something she does fairly often.

Even if he doesn't have bad intentions, the guy can't keep his mouth shut to save his life.

By the time supper rolls around, Billy is antsy. It takes Steve rubbing his back while seated in the dining hall to calm him down enough to eat.

Their friends give them wary glances. Clearly concerned, but too afraid to ask what's wrong. It's not like Steve could really tell them anyway. He just tries to soothe the blond the best that he can.

That turns out to be easier after dinner, when the two sneak off to the bathrooms and Steve tugs Billy's shorts down. Presses up behind him as Billy leans his hands on the sink, legs spread as he pitches forward to take all that Steve has to offer.

The blond isn't even quiet. He moans loud. Watches their reflections with half-lidded eyes in the mirror, cock bobbing between his legs as Steve thrusts into him.

When he comes, his brows knit together and his mouth parts around a pretty sound. It's the most at ease that Steve has seen him all day.

It makes him want to prolong this moment. He keeps pushing into Billy, savoring his whimpers and gasps as he grips at his hips. Smooths a hand over his abdomen, relishing how soft and full he feels against his palm. Billy pushes back into him, trying to take him deeper.

"Y'know, fuck Munson," Steve pants. Drags kisses against Billy's neck and nibbles at his ear, earning another moan. "I like your tummy."

Billy whines. Another pearly bead dribbles from his tip, the first of many as Steve keeps plowing into him.

After having his soft underbelly squeezed by a slender hand, he spills another load. Steve is soon to follow, pressing his fingers into his lover's pudge until his hips are stuttering and he's tipping over that edge as well.

Billy moans as he's filled up. Cups his hand over the back of Steve's and holds it there as they both sit on that high together.

The brunet smiles against Billy's skin. Lavishes his neck with attention as they come down together, still linked, still cradling Billy's full tummy.

"Do you feel better, bubs?" Steve asks.

Billy just pants for a moment. Smiles at Steve in the mirror and winks at him.

If their little bathroom hangout was heard, no one says anything about it. Not even when the two of them climb into one bunk at the end of the night.

-

Part 1?

I have more of this, but idk if it’s even something people wanna read, so I haven’t completely flushed out the concept yet. I guess lmk?

[jellybear455]

Let me heal you - Neteyam x reader (Part 10) FINAL

Characters are aged up.

Warnings: a LOT of spoilers (don't come at me for it), Lo'ak being a shxawng, violence, injury

Readers name is Stela, and uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 1202

Previous part

a/n: Thank you for all the support on this story. I appreciate every like and comment. It truly makes my day to see people enjoying my work. I love you all. So with out further ado...

---

“Ma?” I called, attracting the attention of a tall, beautiful Na’vi woman.

“My ‘eveng (child).” She cried, opening her arms wide.

Tears cascaded down my face for the thousandth time this week as I embraced her. It did not worry me that my mother was long dead, and that to see her, I would have to have suffered the same fate. My mother took my face in her hands. She was crying too, and she looked at me the same way one looks at a beautiful flower.

“My Stela…” She whispered. My name on her tongue was sweeter than I had imagined. “I have missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ma.” I muttered back.

“You have grown to be so beautiful… and you have your father’s eyes.”

She hugged me again, and we stood there for so long. Many minutes passed before the reality of the situation settled in.

“I am dead, aren’t I?” I asked, somehow not afraid of the answer.

“Not yet. But close. Eywa has sent me here to help you, my Stela. You must make a choice. You can come with me. We will pass through the eye and spend forever with the Great Mother. Or, you can go back to Pandora, and live again amongst the Na’vi.”

I could tell from the look in my mother’s eyes that she wished I would go with her. She had no need to worry. How could I leave her so soon? I reached up to touch her face, to reassure her. My hands were covered in blood. Neteyam’s blood. I died saving him. My Neteyam. I did not even tell him that I loved him. I love him.

My mother, as though she could sense my hesitation, took my hand. “Go. You have a whole life to come. I will be waiting.”

“I see you, Ma.” I said, capturing her face in my memory.

She pressed her forehead mine, and I closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes again, she was gone. Replacing her was the woven roof of the healing mauri.

“Ma?” I croaked, squinting at a blue figure crouching beside me.

“Stela?” It was Ronal. Her hand gripped mine. “You are awake.”

“Is Neteyam okay?”

Ronal laughed, but her voice was hoarse, as though the practice was unfamiliar to her. “He is just fine. It was you we were worried about.”

“Why?”

“You have been asleep for a week.”

“Oh,” I replied. A week? I could only stare plainly up at my aunt. Noticing a cut on her cheek, I reached to use my gift, but I could not find it. “My power is gone, Ronal.”

“That is alright. Do not worry yourself. Rest.”

I scoffed, feeling a rush of energy blow away my drowsiness. “I’ve been sleeping for a week, Ronal. I think I’ll be fine.”

Ronal hissed as I pushed myself up. Surprisingly, my head did not spin. After a few laps back and forth to stretch out my limbs, I stepped out into the light.

“Be careful Stela. You have only just woken up.” Ronal called from behind me, but I waved her off, eager to feel the salt water.

I weaved through the crowd until I reached the beach. Wiggling my toes, I wondered why I had never stopped to appreciate the feeling of sand before. The water lapped at my ankles. I took in a deep breath, preparing to dive in.

“Stela!” Someone shouted behind me.

Before I could turn around, a tiny cannonball barrelled into me, her arms wrapping around my waist.

“Tuk,” I laughed, lifting the girl onto my hip.

“You’re awake,” She said, snuggling into my shoulder. “And you saved Neteyam.”

She dropped from my arms, taking my hand, and pulling me away from the water. I protested, but only for a moment, when I realised where we were headed. When we arrived at the Sully mauri, Neytiri scooped me into a bone crushing hug. She thanked me over and over. I hoped she would hug me more often. It reminded me of my mother.

Jake Sully took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “You saved my son. We are in your debt.”

“Dad, I found the-… Syulang?”

Turning around, I met Neteyam’s eyes. Immediately, I searched him for any trace of an injury. There wasn’t even a scar. I sighed in relief, a tear trailing down my cheek. I met him halfway, wrapping my arms around his middle.

He was okay. My Neteyam was okay.

--

The Sully mauri was empty. Soon, there would be no evidence of them ever living here. The thought of it broke my heart just a little more. I hugged Ronal tighter.

“You must visit.” She whispers.

“Only if you do.” I whisper back. I never thought I would see Ronal cry, but here we are. I pry my finger out of my new cousin’s little hand. “I will see you again, little one.”

I step back. Tsireya is standing behind her mother, the tears flowing freely down her face. Anoung is stony faced, but I can see the sadness and regret in his eyes. Tonowari sends me a nod. I smile back, before retreating to Neteyam. He wraps an arm around my waist comfortingly. We mount his Ikran, and I settle in front of Neteyam.

The Ikran takes off with a screech, and I watch as the Metkayina clan grows smaller and smaller. At first, Neteyam objected to me going with them. I am glad he relented, because there is little left for me here. I have no gift, and the only man that I could ever mate with is leaving.

Neteyam’s arms are strong around me the whole flight. Surprisingly, I liked flying. Not more than being in the water, which I will surely miss. By the time we reach the Omatikaya clan, I am windswept, and my legs are stiff.

I climb off the Ikran, and watch as Neytiri rushes to a decorated woman, presumably Tsahìk, and envelopes her in a hug. The Tsahìk opens her arms again, and the Sully children have a sort of group hug with her. It is now that she spots me. Nervousness flaps in my stomach. She can make me leave if she puts her mind to it. Neteyam, as though sensing my uneasiness, steps back to take my hand.

"Syulang, this is the Tsahìk, and my grandmother, Mo'at."

“Who are you?” She demands, although her tone is not unkind.

“I come from the Metkayina clan. I was a healer.” I say as she approaches me.

“And now?”

I stayed silent for a moment, contemplating the question. I was no longer Metkayina, nor was I Omatikaya. I was not of the sky people, although their blood ran through my veins. I thought of my mother, a beautiful Na'vi woman, and my father, who had come from the stars. It was obvious who they were. Who did that make me?

I looked to Neteyam, who was scanning my face for any sign of distress. Looking into his eyes, I was reminded of the last eight months we had spent together. I was not just a healer, and I did not have to light the path alone. I was who ever I chose to be.

“I am Stela.”

Mo'at smiled. “Welcome home, Stela.”

--

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[raainy-daze]

The Problem With Pumpkins and Sewers

halloween special !

rottmnt mikey x gn!reader

summary: you and mikey are doing some early pumpkin carving.

word count: 1120

a/n: i don’t know why this one was so hard to write??? i had the entire first quarter of a different thing written out, but then i had to scrap it, and this is what appeared from me trying to put something together. happy halloween, hope this is still decent!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Ah, October, the month of spooks and scares. There was a chill in the air, and festivities had begun.

Fun fact, dragging pumpkins down into the sewers is actually kind of a nightmare. Who would’ve guessed? Not you, with your insanely poor planning. You had spent a good five minutes glaring down the manhole, trying to figure out how to get down without breaking a pumpkin or a limb. You thought about calling the guys, but you had too much self-worth to consider it for more than a few minutes.

After several minutes of trial and error, however, you’d finally made it! You were a bit scraped up, but hey, mission accomplished! You absolutely were not volunteering yourself for pumpkin transportation next year, though. You got lucky this time, but you didn’t want to count on that luck twice.

“HEY! SOMEONE TAKE THESE DAMN PUMPKINS OFF MY HANDS, OR I’M GOING TO SCREAM!”

“WHAT ARE YOU YELLING ABOUT?”

“Oh, sorry, Splinter!” You smiled sheepishly at the rat, who you took it was napping prior to your arrival.

“You’ve got the pumpkins?” Mikey caught you off guard, popping up behind you from seemingly nowhere. You dropped a pumpkin, and nearly panicked for a second, but Mikey caught it.

Mikey set his pumpkin down on the table, and you followed suit. Mikey turned to smile at you, but said smile almost immediately dropped. “What happened?” He grabbed your hand, which was scraped up as a result of what could only be described as your scramble down the manhole.

“What do you think?” You raised an eyebrow. “I am never trying that again, for the record. It’s a hard enough trip to make with just a backpack.”

“Hang on, we have some bandaids somewhere!”

“Oh, no, I’m fine-“ Mikey had already vanished. You sighed and accepted it, walking over to the sink to wash the scrape.

“Well, well, well, what’s going on here?” You looked up to see Leo had wandered in. “I heard yelling earlier.”

“Mikey and I are carving pumpkins.”

“You’re carving pumpkins? I thought we were all going to do that together!”

“We are. It’s still too early in the month to have pumpkins last until Halloween, we’re going to do it all together later. Mikey and I are doing early decorative pumpkins.”

“(Y/N),” Leonardo narrowed his eyes, “all jack o’ lanterns are decorative.”

“That’s beside the point.” You stuck out your tongue. “Also, I already got injured taking two down here.” You held up your limp hand to emphasize (even if the limpness was an over exaggeration on your part).

“I found the bandaids!” Mikey reappeared, waving the box of aforementioned bandaids.

“Thanks, Mikey.”

Mikey sat down next to you, pretty much ignoring his brother.

“You two are a couple of bastards, you know that?”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

Leo rolled his eyes and started walking away, waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I guess I’ll be getting out of your hair.”

“Good riddance!”

“Wow, I was just going to say goodbye, you jerks!”

And Leo was gone. Mikey had already fished and bandage out of the box, holding your hand close so that he could apply it.

“Aaand- there!”

Mikey pressed a kiss over top of the bandaid, making you giggle. “Are we carving pumpkins or not?”

“Right!” Mikey reached for a set of knives he’d left out - seeing him grin as he held a knife out to you wasn’t disturbing at all! - and you set off to cutting open the top of your pumpkin.

Fifteen minutes later, you were scooping out the seeds to hollow out the pumpkin. Most went straight into the trashcan you’d dragged over, but occasionally one of you would set a couple aside on a set of paper towels you’d laid out for Raph and Splinter, who according to Mikey, were the type to eat pumpkin seeds.

“So, what are you going to do with yours?” You asked.

“I’m gonna make it a cat.” Mikey grinned. That certainly sounded on brand. “What about you?”

You shrugged. “Nothing fancy. Just found a reference on Google.”

Mikey nodded. “Classic?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You heard footsteps coming in from the lab. You didn’t bother looking up, only one person hung around in the lab. “Hey, Donnie.”

“Hey, (Y/N)- OH MY GOD THEY HAVE A KNIFE!”

“Yes, we have knives. We’re gonna use them on your robots.” You looked up at Donnie, who was only just noticing the pumpkins.

“Okay, that’s a great way to get electrocuted.” Donnie shuffled past the two of you, still watching the knives (overdramatic, much?). “I need more coffee.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“Oh, believe me, he doesn’t care,” Mikey said.

You sighed before grabbing your phone. You had saved a photo of what you were going to carve, and you thought you had made it to that stage. There were a couple seeds left inside, but they were stuck, and you didn’t want to bother with it anymore.

“Ooo, that looks cool!” Mikey looked at your reference as he shoveled the last of his pumpkins seeds in the trash.

“Let’s just hope I don't mess it up.” You carefully aligned your knife where you wanted the eye to be.

“I believe in you! But don’t cut yourself again please.”

“I will not cut myself.” It was more an affirmation than anything else.

Over the next hour, you and Mikey worked hard on your jack o’ lanterns. You made a few mistakes here and there, but overall it went well by your standards. Mikey’s, of course, was unreasonably well done for just a cat, but that’s the way things go. Every so often, one of his brothers would interrupt the process, but that was to be expected.

When you were both finished, you lit a couple candles and gently placed them inside, and set the top back on. You stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“Early pumpkin carving success!” Mikey cheered.

“Success, indeed. But I feel like mine’s missing something.” You narrowed your eyes, thinking.

“… A nose, maybe?”

“Crap.” You picked your knife back up, and hastily carved a triangle out of the middle. “Okay, now it’s done.” You turned to Mikey, who was hiding his laughter rather badly.

“Well, what do we do with these now? Where are we putting them?”

“I think they should go in your apartment.”

“What?”

“That way, you can have some Halloween cheer at your place! We’re going to have a bunch in the lair in a few weeks, anyway.” He smiled at you.

You took in a deep breath.

“Michelangelo Hamato. If you think I am dragging those back up the manhole. You are SORELY MISTAKEN-“

[jaegerjackoff]

The Doctor | Part 3 | The Mandalorian

< Part 2 | Part 4 >

summary: The first morning, you find yourself with an unlikely companion, and the Mandalorian piques the interest of the locals.

pairing: eventual Din Djarin x OC afab!reader (no physical descriptions; reader has relatives, a surname, and backstory/personality)

word count: +1.3k

a/n: This took longer than I'd hoped because it was a long two weeks, but I made it! orz In the meantime, however, I did some more brainstorming regarding placement among the series and developed an idea for a fix-it, so we have that to look forward to! I would love to hear from you in the tags or my inbox! I'd like to know how I'm doing, and if there's anywhere I could improve. Happy reading!

warnings: rated G, vague references to illness

-

You’re kneeling upon a kitchen counter, rifling through green jars of dehydrated herbs in a cupboard, when you hear it – the gentle hiss of a pneumatic door opening and the tiniest slap-slap of feet upon the polished stone floor. Sparing a glance over one shoulder, you anticipate the sight of the Mandalorian swaying silently from the mouth of the hall, despite the ungodly hour it currently happens to be, the sunrise only a faint tinge of orange staining a twilight sky.

A short while earlier, you had emerged from your room to find the kitchen moderately tidied – the dish you know the Mandalorian was sent off with was leaning in the drying rack, along with the others accumulated, left in the basin to return to later. You nearly laughed imagining him washing dishes, yet the notion inspired a fond bloom in your chest – it made you wish for time, if only to simply speak with the mysterious man.

Contrary to your (hope) expectation, you don’t see a thing.

Brow knit, you squint at the contents of one last dark-tinted jar before hopping down to round the counter, where you very nearly step into the Child, a small lump waddling across the floor, giant eyes blinking up at you.

“Well, hello, there, ” you mutter perplexedly, taking a few steps beyond him down the guest hall to find the door ajar but the lights out and curtains drawn. Once more, your expectations are dashed – the room is pitch black save for what creeps in from the dim corridor, within which you can barely make out the shape of the Mandalorian, asleep, and a neat pile of armor (notably without the helmet) upon the dresser.

He sleeps with that thing on?

Wait–

With a cold ripple of realization, you tear your gaze away as though the mere perception of his unarmored silhouette is an intrusion. (If your memory serves correctly, it absolutely kriffing is, and now you want to scream.) Fingers brush the button toggling the door closed as you hurry back toward the kitchen and scoop up the Child along the way, whose abrupt cough racks his little body in your arms.

“Okay, kiddo, ” you breathe unevenly, “Want some hot chocolate?”

-

For the first time in perhaps months, Din Djarin sleeps soundly – heavily.

The Vancil guest quarters were quaint and comforting, more inviting than the cheap inns he occasionally sought board in. Orange leather skimmed the handmade brown-and-violet throw draped across the foot of the bed and appraised rough-cut soaps in the refresher, flecked with botanicals – remarkably similar to his previous stay.

Din ate carefully, with his back turned to the slumbering Child (comically dwarfed among the blankets of a large bed), after which he allowed himself a long reprieve in the refresher, scrubbing away sweat and grime in the shower, then soaking with delicately-scented salts. It felt impossibly strange – he’d stood contemplating the comfortably-sized bath longer than he preferred to admit.

Dried and dressed in clean linens, Din succumbed to the heavy draw of sleep hours later, fluffy curls cautiously pressed within the confines of his helmet.

His limbs feel leaden and muscle sore when he wakes to brilliant sunrise bleeding through a lone gap in the curtains. The room is pleasantly quiet, as are the outdoors just beyond layers of fabric and transparisteel, absent of the thrum of the Crest’s engines and the Child’s congested breathing.

The Child.

Who was, at the searching sweep of his arm, most definitely not in the bed with him, or even the room, at his suddenly panicked inspection.

Din dresses hastily and nearly forgoes his armor, only pausing momentarily to throw on the ensemble and tighten the straps, having to twist in his departure so that a pauldron doesn’t clip the still-opening door. Turbulent beneath the placid face of his helm, the brief trip down the hall felt an agonizing drag, furthering the claw of anxiety tearing at the back of Din’s consciousness.

Regardless of what far-off sentiments held for your late father, the lengths he would go to for the Child–

The breath he draws to blindly accost you – where is he? – dies upon his lungs when he spies familiar green tucked comfortably against your side on the couch, beneath far too much blanket. And there you sit pleasantly, entirely unaware of the Mandalorian practically boiling over before you, a cup of caf in one hand and a datapad in the other, thumbing through some article.

When you glance past your screen, you see how his cuirass shifts atop a long breath drawn and released, the slight turn of the helmet, and offer a small smile, “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

Much like the day prior, you seem to have caught him off guard with your asking. The helmet rears the slightest bit back, and at last, the Mandalorian finds his voice, his composure. “Good morning. I slept well, thank you.”

You notice the way the visor seems trained slightly down, your own gaze dropping similarly. “He came out on his own around sunrise. Gave him some cocoa, and became fast friends, ” you muse at the little creature who only puffs in a slight cough, thanks to an herb slipped into his drink, whose attention focuses solely on his Mandalorian. “It seems like he might be ready to go back to sleep after another dose of antibiotics.”

The Mandalorian’s silence is not poorly taken; you gaze at his visor for a beat longer, then peel yourself away to leave the Child swimming in plush fabric, reaching after your fleeting warmth with little claws.

“Caf?” you offer, refilling your own.

“Maybe later.” It’s hesitant, cut short as the Mandalorian makes his way over to the Child to sit gingerly beside him in your absence. 

You nod your acknowledgment, whether he sees or not, and tend to the slowly-reheating pan of stewed meat and broth – decidedly, your vessel of choice to deliver the Child his medicine. After checking the temperature, you ladle a generous amount of both broth and meat into a waiting porringer, pre-dosed, and make your return.

The Child eagerly accepts the liquid warmth, beginning to munch messily on the meat chunks first, dribbling broth onto the blanket. You shrug amicably at the visor turning your way briefly, returning to the kitchen for your caf and datapad.

“Well, I’m going to be at the clinic for the day if you find that you need me, ” you inform over the rim of your mug. “May I ask what your plans are for the day?”

-

Perhaps you didn’t need to ask the Mandalorian his plans after all, because you’d heard from four (four!) bewildered old folks about the shiny metal man and his coughing sling bag asking for “work” (scare quotes included), and it was barely noon. The most recent still stood before you in the clinic lobby, drifting into a story from when he worked as a logger up the mountain years ago.

Elbows propped on the desk, one hand cradles your cheek, fingers idly tapping and palm partly obscuring your wry smile. Honestly, you found it endearing. Chaira generally lacked any excitement, so you understood why the town’s inhabitants were abuzz – you wondered, if you stepped outside, whether you might see the Mandalorian being confronted by some of the more vigilant members of the community.

“Thank you, Cyril, ” you steer the conversation with a smile. “Did you happen to need anything while you’re here?”

“No, Dr. Vancil, thank you, ” the man says earnestly, and you hum. Your diversion worked, and now he shuffles toward the open door, waving stiffly on his way.

“I’ll see you next week for your physical, then, ” you say, louder now for the slowly-increasing distance. “Take care!”

From beside you, 2-1B turns, scooting your lunch closer again. You can hear the subtle whirring of parts, the would-be breaths were he made of flesh, and angle your chair more his way, dragging the plate closer yet with a finger.

“I see what you did there, ” he observes, and you grin.

“Yeah, take notes. You’d have been stuck in that conversation for another twenty minutes, ” you return. 2-1B pauses, which you take as a concession.

< Part 2 | Part 4 >

-

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