#but he’s roofing tomorrow so he’ll be exhausted

[irish-belle]

My husband is going to work on a side job this evening and I’m being so brave about it

[kooktrash]

Fighting heart mc has a little accident at home and needs to go to the hospital (maybe for stitches?) and jk calls her and nurse pick it up and says that she’s in hospital 😌 And of course he got panicked and rushed to the hospital and even after he saw that she’s perfectly fine he can’t help but cry because of the fear and all those ugly emotions (and he thought that something big happened to her) 😭😭 And of course he wouldn’t stop gushing over her and be her ‘yes man’

oooof I missed these two idk. jk has always been the more stressed out one so I could def see him completely losing his shit while oc is like “🤷🏽‍♀️Shit happens” he def makes a bigger deal out of it.

FIGHTING HEART

warnings: mentions of bl**d, oc cuts her leg with glass. jk gets anxiety from it. oc needed stitches 2.4K words.

You never considered yourself a handy man of any sort. You hate getting your hands dirty and you hate doing any sort of hard labor at all—it’ll mess up your manicure, but today you didn’t have much of a choice. You had just been lounging around your apartment all day with Jimin who decided he would come over and keep you company. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, has been stuck training lately because he’s got a big fight coming up and Jin has been really strict on him because of it. Even if he won’t admit it, you know he’s been stressed because if he wins, he’ll win big.

Jungkook has finally begun to really establish himself as a real boxer and right now he’s getting so many calls from just about anyone in the boxing world looking to set a match with him. He’s so close to being the lightweight champion and you know it’s been a lot of pressure on him so all you’ve wanted to do was show him your support and show him he could rely on you.

Maybe that’s why you decided to tackle this issue on your own today.

“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” Jimin said as he watched you stand on your kitchen counter trying to switch out a lightbulb, “If you fall Jungkook is going to kill me.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you turned to him with the huge, heavy lightbulb in your hands, “Stop being so negative, I’m very capable of changing a lightbulb, thank you very much.”

Jimin released a sigh, “I mean… if you say so.”

Jungkook was exhausted, his body ached everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive over to you, pull you into a bath with him and hopefully fall asleep after. Lately it feels like all he’s done is train with Hobi and right now he just wants to stop it all and go see you.

Of course he’s thankful for all the opportunities he’s been given in life but right now he just wants to be selfish and hang out with the love of his life without worrying about the newest brand deal—which right now, Calvin Klein has been blowing up Jin’s phone to sign the new and upcoming boxer as a brand ambassador. He thinks he’ll do it but only if he can get you signed on as well, it’s not like they would say no with the connections you have. Maybe he’ll talk to you about it tonight.

“Alright Kook, you wanna rest up tonight because tomorrow we’re doing it all over again,” Hoseok said to him as they walked toward their parked cars ready to end today’s session, “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook said, already taking his phone out to call you, “I’m thinking we’ll get dinner and after that probably just lounge around.”

They said their goodbyes and once Jungkook was in the privacy of his car, he called you. Lately, he’s been so busy he almost feels guilty for not being able to see you. You’re so supportive and loving and all he wants to do is spend all his time with you but he’s finally doing something with his life and it’s all because of you so he just continues to push himself to his limits. He wants to be with someone worthy of you, no matter how many times you assure him you’ll love him no matter what.

You chose him over anyone else, even when you saw his poor living conditions with leaking roofs and broken cabinets. You stayed with him when you saw him lose control at an underground fight club. You’ve chosen him and he loves you so much that he misses you anytime he’s away.

When the call went to voicemail he couldn’t help but be confused, you told him you would just be home today so he wondered why you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were sleeping or not around your phone, so he called you again just to be sure.

“Hello?”

Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear, looking down at the screen to make sure he had in fact called you and not whatever guy was currently answering the phone, “Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” Jimin cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, this is Jimin.”

He released a breath in relief, “Oh, where’s Y/n?”

“Um,” Jimin bit his lip nervously as he looked behind him. Jungkook waited for him to speak but the longer he stayed quiet the more worried he got. Why did Jimin answer your phone and why did he seem so nervous?

“Y/n can’t really answer the phone right now,” Jimin said, already imagining your overprotective boyfriend plunging his fist into Jimin’s pretty head, “She had an accident an—“

“What?” Jungkook hit the brakes hard, completely forgetting he was trying to drive out of the parking lot, “What do you mean accident? Where is she?”

“We’re at the hospital right now, they’re giving her stitches—“

“Where?” Jungkook’s voice dropped to a low octave as his blood ran cold. He barely listened to the hospital Jimin told him before he was hanging up and speeding toward you. He ran a couple red lights but he didn’t even care. He felt his anxiety begin to spike up to the point where his chest tightened painfully and it was getting hard for him to breathe.

Getting to the hospital all happened in a blur, he went straight to the E.R section and he knew that the nurse behind the counter thought he looked crazy.

He was drenched in sweat from training and his eyes were red, his hands shaky and his voice cracked when he asked what room you were in.

“She’s just finishing up surgery and she’ll be out soon, I’ll take you to where the friend is waiting,” the nurse said and he anxiously followed after her, biting his lip so hard that it bled. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and he ignored the nurse’s warning not to run as he searched for Jimin who sat outside the room with his head down.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked and there was no denying the panic in his voice. Jimin shot up out of his seat looking a little scared by the way Jungkook glared at him. Jimin bit his lip, “We were in her kitchen and Y/n was trying to change a stupid lightbulb and—“

“Ow!”

Jungkook looked to the room, the blinds were closed so he couldn’t even look in and the door was shut, “Oh my god, did she fall?”

Jimin nodded subtly, “Y/n dropped the bulb and I think it s-scared her and she ended up falling a-and, glass was everywhere a—“

“What the fuck were you doing?!” Jungkook yelled louder than he meant to and others immediately turned to him with worry. Jimin’s eyes widened at the way Jungkook grabbed at him and once Jungkook realized what he was doing, he immediately let him go, “I’m sorry, Jimin. Sorry… b-but, if something happens to Y/n…”

“I know man,” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, “She’s just getting a few stitches and she’ll be out soon. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook sat down with his head in his hands, hiding himself as he shut his eyes trying to get his brain to shut up. He knows that you’ll be fine but he can’t help but imagine the worse. He’s been so busy lately and he told you he would switch the stupid lightbulb for you and just kept forgetting. This is all his fault. All of it.

The thought of you being hurt in even the slightest way made him sick to his stomach. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He’s supposed to keep you safe and be there for you and he hasn’t been and he feels so fucking shitty because all he can picture right now is your fall. How bad was it? How did it happen? Jimin said there was glass everywhere…

How hurt were you?

It felt like years passed before they were finally let into the room. Jimin stood behind with guilt written all over his face as Jungkook went right to your side, immediately holding your face in his hands, “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you said with a smile as you looked down at your leg, “Just a couple stitches, nothing too bad.”

“Six stitches and a large piece of glass in her heel,” the doctor said as he looked down at his paperwork. Jungkook was hovering over you with his forehead pressed against yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” You asked brushing his sticky hair out of his face, “I’m fine.”

“She did great,” the doctor said, finally getting Jungkook’s attention, “We’re going to prescribe something for the pain and finish up some paperwork. We have a pair of crutches Y/n could use but she should be healed in about three weeks. As of right now, I’d say put as little weight on her foot as possible, it was a big fall and she’s definitely bruised up.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jungkook said and you looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at your boyfriend who lifted your knuckles to his lips and kissed the top of them. You could see his reddened eyes and when he looked up at you it was clear he was crying, this is the second time you’ve seen your strong boyfriend cry and it broke you.

“Jimin,” you looked to your friend, “Can you give us a minute?”

The doctor took that as his cue to go get the paperwork and leave with your friend until it was just you and Jungkook. “Baby,” you called to him once you were alone and he allowed himself to fully break down against your hospital bed, “What’s wrong? Are you mad? I know you told me to wait b-but, I just wan—“

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I keep telling you over and over again that I want to be someone you deserve and I just keep disappointing you.”

You sat up suddenly, wincing a little as you shifted your leg and Jungkook immediately looked up with fear, “Jungkook, this isn’t your fault at all. This was an accident, I was being impatient. Even Jimin told me it was a bad idea but I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own, obviously not bu—“

“Baby, you’re so strong and you don’t even know it,” Jungkook said as he sat down on the edge, careful not to take up too much room, “So strong and smart that you can do anything. I just… I should’ve just done it the first time you told me.”

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” You combed his hair back before wiping his tears away with your thumb, “And shouldn’t I be the one crying? I just got six stitches.”

Jungkook sniffled as he leaned forward and pulled you into a tight hug, “I was so scared, baby, so fucking scared that something horrible happened and I just… I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t around.”

Your eyes met his and to help him calm down, and remind him he won’t lose you, you kissed him. Jungkook kissed you back wantonly, hand in your hair and salty tears on his tongue, “I love you so much.”

The wait for the paperwork took forever and Jimin sat in the corner of the room watching you and Jungkook. He had been so exhausted from his training that when he rested his head on your chest, he fell asleep.

“You’ve got a very concerned boyfriend on your hands,” the nurse said once she returned, “I hear he caused a commotion downstairs and out in the hall just worried sick about you.”

“I’m sure he did,” you said in a whisper, brushing a finger against his cheek that had him waking up slowly, eyes hazy as he looked up at you.

“Alright, well just follow the doctor’s orders, once the numbing block wears off you’ll feel some pain because you sprained your ankle. We’ll do a follow up in about a week, how does that sound? Now I need the one she’ll be leaving with to sign these documents.

“Sounds good, we’ll be here,” Jungkook had your hand in his as he signed the paper with his free hand, there were crutches in her hands and she was motioning for you to try and sit up. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm under your back and the other one under your knees before he was lifting you up.

“No need for crutches?” The nurse asked, watching Jungkook pick you up with ease. Jimin took them from her with a thank you, “I guess not.”

“Babe, I can walk,” you tried telling him as he cradled you in his arms, “I’m heavy.”

“Shh, I’ve made guys bigger than you tap out with one punch,” Jungkook said as he carried you to the elevator with Jimin hot on your trails, “I think I’m capable of carrying my injured girlfriend to the car.”

When you got to the hotel you lived at, Jungkook had yet to let your feet touch the car even once. He helped you to bed using a pillow to rest your leg and making sure you were comfortable as he ran around looking for things you might need.

You giggled, “Kook, I’m not paralyzed, I can walk, just give me some time.”

“I know you’re strong babe but I really don’t want you over exerting yourself,” he said, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go do it.”

“I still need the lightbulb fixed.”

“On it.”

Jungkook ran out to the kitchen, nearly crying again once he saw the mess on your perfectly polished marble floors. Once again he was reminded that you had probably been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t around. There was blood mixed with thin glass all over the floor and he went to your supply closet to get the cleaning supplies. If Jimin wasn’t around, what would have happened? Would you have forced yourself to stand and call an ambulance? Would you have called him or would you think he was too busy to answer?

The next morning Jungkook did not leave your side one bit. He called Hobi and told him he wouldn’t make it to training and spent his day doing everything he could for you.

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[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 38: To Us

pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x f. reader

genre: established relationship, 18+

summary: big things are happening all around

wc: 2.7k

warnings: time skip, alcohol mention/use, boudoir shoot, implied smut

date: January 5, 2024

18 months later 

The sun shines it’s last rays as it sets over the horizon. Orange and pink paint the sky beautifully. You stare out the window, watching the city below as Jimin hums to himself, typing away on his computer. 

Laughter fills the hallway despite the late hour. Hoseok is doing a live, taking his fans with him in the bathroom as it grows darker outside. Perhaps he’s unaware of your presence and Jimin’s. 

In the practice room, Jungkook and Taehyung do a dance challenge. Yoongi films and adds his two-cents. He’s just released an album himself and the excitement has sent him over the moon. Sales are wonderful and he’ll embark on a tour with Jungkook. It seems like the older man can never escape him, though he loves Jungkook to bits. 

In the gym, Namjoon smirks as he gets Seokjin on the treadmill. His finger sits beside the button, raising and lowering the speed at random intervals. Seokjin huffs, cursing him out every time it goes faster than his long legs can carry him. 

Namjoon has taken time from his gym to work with Jimin’s company, focusing primarily on his friends. He’s tough, but everyone loves having him around, even Jimin. The two seem to spend a lot of time together, even without you; it brings a smile to your face. 

Everyone you love is under the same roof, a warmth filling your body as you think of them. 

“Sorry I took so long, baby. I’m done for the night,” Jimin says as he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your cheek. “I’m all yours.”

You place your hands over his, turning to kiss him on the lips. 

“Ready for dinner with the guys?” You ask as you check the chat, confirming everyone will join you. 

Jimin nods. He takes your hand in his, laughter coming from outside his office before the door bursts open and Jungkook leads the group of chaos. There’s already an argument broken out between Taehyung and Seokjin, the elder red in the face from his protests. 

Yoongi smiles from his spot in the back, egging his boyfriend on just to hear Seokjin’s voice rise in pitch. 

Jungkook is wrapped around Namjoon, the two giggling as Hoseok ends his live after putting on a filter that turned him into a flower. He laughs as he puts his phone in his pocket, watching his boyfriend grit his teeth before he takes off chasing Taehyung down the hallway. 

Sighing, Jimin leads everyone out of the office after them, his door shuts and locks automatically after. 

Unfortunately for Jimin, Tae and Seokjin argue all the way to dinner while in the limo. They only stop when Jimin threatens to send them home with empty tummies and grumpy boyfriends. 

“Sorry,” they grumble just as the limo pulls up to the restaurant. 

“Don’t forget to smile as you head inside. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook you get out first then Tae and Seokjin with Hoseok. We’ll be in the rear. We’re old news anyway,” Jimin waves his hand and you huff. 

“Hey! My new line is coming out next month!” You protest, affronted.

“We haven’t revealed it yet,” Jimin reminds you as the door opens and Yoongi steps out of the limo with Joon and Kook behind him. Seokjin and Tae follow with Hoseok in tow. 

Hoseok stops to offer you his hand as you get out, helping you steady yourself before Jimin takes over. You thank him, and Hobi winks before following Seokjin into the restaurant, ignoring the flash of the camera. His album announcement drops tomorrow. 

Dinner goes as smoothly as you can imagine. You’re thankful to be home after such a long day of work and final preparations. 

“I’m so exhausted,” you groan as you push back the covers and climb into the bed you share with Jimin. He smiles as he gets into his side, pulling you closer to him. 

The bedroom is illuminated by the low light of the purple lamp on your nightstand. The wall beside it littered in picture frames containing the wonderful memories of you and your friends. Most are of you and Jimin, smiling at each other at different events and in some intimate moments. 

In his home office, where only you and your friends are allowed, sits a wall of your boudoir shoot. Yes, it was Jungkook’s idea, and you were egged on by Taehyung and Seokjin once Kook spilled the beans. 

Now all four of you have portraits in your homes of yourselves and even one of all of you together. You smile to yourself at the comical expression Jimin sent your way when the four of you revealed the photos during a lazy night hang out at Jungkook and Joon’s apartment. 

It ended quickly, all of you heading home to enjoy your partners. 

“What?” Jimin asks when you softly shake with laughter. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Jimin grins, poking your cheek with his finger, his head moving to bury in your neck as he whines, “Tell me!”

“It’s nothing,” you chuckle as you run your fingers through his hair. He whines again but nearly purrs when you scratch his head.

“I was thinking of the boudoir reveal,” you smile as he raises his head to look at you. He smirks.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Remember how you shut the elevator door on everyone? Made them take the stairs while you pushed me against the wall to kiss me.”

Jimin chuckles darkly, eyes twinkling with mischief at the recollection. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You smile, kissing his jaw before descending toward his neck. He moans as he allows you to climb over him; his hands settle on your hips when you rock against him.

“You teased me until we got home. Made me cum in the limo and then on the bed until all I could say was your name,” you bite back a moan. Jimin’s hands move upward to cup your tits, a devious smile on his lips.

“How about a repeat?” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you giggle. Your lips meet his before he’s rolling you beneath him with ease. Your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the roots just to hear him curse your name. He kisses you with need, a hunger so deep it rattles your bones.

“Jimin,” his name rolls off your tongue in a sultry cry, and continues to do so for the rest of the night.

Music fills the top floor of the building when you arrive with Jimin on your arm. A bright smile adorns your face as you walk through the doors to see the party already in full swing. 

Hoseok has done an amazing job preparing for it and it was nice to see everything come along so smoothly. Immediately, your eyes find Jungkook’s. He waves enthusiastically, which makes your group of friends turn to face the two of you in unison. 

A laugh escapes you as you head over. Jimin grabs a flute of champagne from a passing server and hands it to you. 

Taehyung raises his drink in your direction and the both of you take a sip. 

“How’s it going?” You ask as you set the drink on the table. Jungkook grins, rattling off details about the party celebrating Hoseok’s album. 

Speaking of Hoseok, he’s still making rounds greeting everyone and taking photos. You hope you can steal him away for a moment to congratulate him on his great achievement. 

“He looks good, huh?” Seokjin asks, hearts in his eyes as he looks at his boyfriend. 

“He does,” you nod in agreement. “He was born for this.”

Seokjin nods before taking a sip of his drink. You watch him closely, noting the way his gaze lingers on Hoseok a second too long and his hands are tucked into the pockets of his pants. 

Suspicion grows inside you, but Jimin soothes you by rubbing your lower back when he feels you stiffen from the tension. You’re distracted when Jungkook drags you and Taehyung to dance on the side of the stage. Laughter bubbles out of you as you try to keep up but fail miserably when they dance in sync.

You watch from the sidelines for a while with Namjoon at your side. 

Unfortunately, Yoongi was unable to attend due to some last minute tour arrangements that couldn’t wait til morning. You’ll fill him in tomorrow over brunch with everyone. Though you still wish he was here celebrating with all of you. 

Jimin has promised to fly you out to see him, Jungkook, and Namjoon as often as possible and you’re very grateful. The lot of you haven’t been apart for ages and it would be hard to cope without your best friends all around. You know you all have different paths in life but why walk separately when you can walk together?

Seokjin is at the Photo Booth when you see him next. Jimin has been dragged into a dance battle after Hoseok’s album was streamed for all to hear. Your friends congratulated him the loudest, starting a long standing ovation for your best friend that brought him to tears. Several hugs ensued, and you had finally managed to sneak off to talk to Seokjin. 

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your instincts were telling you something was up with the now model and soon to be actor. He wasn’t one to keep secrets from you (or you from him), so you couldn’t help but wonder what it was that was keeping him so quiet. It was unusual for him to keep his distance from you, especially on such a huge event for the love of his life, as he so often claimed. So what gives?

Okay, perhaps you were a little too nosy, but you cared for your friend. You wouldn’t push if he truly didn’t want to share, you respected his boundaries but you also just couldn’t go on having fun with everyone else without checking in. What if something was upsetting him? You knew what it was like to plaster on a smile while in a crowd but falling to pieces inside. You wouldn’t let that happen to Seokjin if you could help it. 

“Hey,” he greets when you stand beside him and the flash of the camera goes off. You pose for a few photos before finally going for it. 

“Seokjin,” you say his name softly, almost hesitating. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a raised brow, and you already know he’s on high alert. 

“Is everything okay? You’ve been kind of distant tonight,” you tell him and he sighs. You note that his hands are still in his pockets and your curiosity heightened.

Slowly, he pulls his hands from his pockets as another flash goes off. He sighs heavily, knowing he’s busted. 

“We didn’t want to tell anyone tonight to keep from stealing the spotlight but you know me too well. It’s why I’ve been keeping my distance from Hoseok and you guys.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. Had they broken up? 

“Did you and Hoseok break up?” You manage to speak. The words are heavy like lead and your tongue tangles getting them out. 

Seokjin smiles, shaking his head. 

Another flash.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he chirps as he raises his hand and you notice the shining ring. “We’re engaged!”

A flash goes off as you scream in excitement, tugging him to your chest as you hug him. More flashes go off to document the moment and soon you’re both jumping up and down in your seats until you tumble out with Seokjin beside you. 

Your commotion and gleeful laughter catches the attention of a few partygoers before your friends are helping the two of you up with raised brows and puzzled expressions. 

Hoseok takes one look at you and Seokjin and he knows. His smile is even brighter than it has been all evening and he chuckles. “Couldn’t keep a secret?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “She’s too nosy.”

You stare at the thumb he’s pointing at you and stick your tongue out at him. “Sue me for being his best friend.”

“Yoongi does not approve of that expression,” Taehyung giggles as he drapes his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asks, still confused as Jimin nods beside him. 

Hoseok bites his bottom lip before ushering the seven of you out of the party towards his studio. 

Once inside, he wraps his arm around Seokjin’s waist, kissing his cheek. “We wanted to wait until at least tomorrow, but I guess the secret is out.”

“I was concerned!” You protest and the couple laughs. 

“Can someone fill us in?” Jimin pouts. He wants in on the secret too.

Hoseok and Seokjin exchange a look before Hoseok lifts Seokjin’s perfectly manicured hand. “We’re engaged!”

“Shut up!” Jungkook shouts as he tackles the two, wanting to be the first to hug them. They both yelp when the muscular man slams into them, laughter escaping them when they’re both lifted off the ground. 

“Jungkook!” Namjoon calls, trying to pry the happy couple from his boyfriend’s arms. “You’re gonna break them before they make it down the aisle. Put them down.”

Jungkook listens, apologizing hastily before turning to you and taking your hands in his. “They’re engaged!”

The both of you jump up and down in a circle until Taehyung and Jimin join you. Namjoon hangs back, video calling Yoongi to share the news and the excitement.

Seokjin and Hoseok hold each other close as they watch their friends share in their excitement. Hoseok hadn’t planned on proposing tonight, especially right before his party started but he was just so overjoyed and filled with his immense love for Seokjin that he just dropped down to his knee and proposed. It wasn’t as romantic as he hoped to plan later on, perhaps a candlelight dinner, a walk by the river, and champagne after but the moment felt right and Seokjin had said yes. 

After celebrating with a quick love making session, the couple arrived at the party, promising each other not to spill the beans. 

Until you came along, of course…

With a few more hugs and excited squeals, the seven of you make your way back to the party even more hyped than before. 

The next morning, the eight of you meet up for brunch. 

Celebratory drinks are poured, smiles are abundant and the youngest and oldest are already squabbling. 

You smile as you lean against your boyfriend, his lips pressed to your forehead for a quick peck. Despite all the chaos among you, you’re both happy. 

It’s one of the last times the eight of you will be together for a while. Yoongi and Jungkook are going on tour and taking Joon. Taehyung and Seokjin are on tight filming schedules, and Hoseok has a few performances in the near future, some overseas. 

However, Jimin will be by your side through all of it, and your focus has been on expanding your business. Seokjin has a line of makeup coming out soon while Hoseok has a line of nail polish and nail art dropping later in the year. 

Big plans are coming in the near future and even though it’s very rewarding, you still feel the pressure you did when your first line dropped. Your thankful to have the love and support from your friends and Jimin, they’ve definitely kept you going when things seemed bleak. 

Warmth fills your chest as you look around the table, laughter spilling from your friends’ lips as Jimin laces his fingers with yours. 

“We should plan a trip for everyone after the tour,” he states, almost reading your mind as you take another look at your friends. 

“I’d love that,” you nod, blinking away the tears that sting in the corner of your eyes. 

Jimin smiles, joining the conversation around him; a debate over the best appetizer at Hobi’s party last night. 

There will be more days like this. More days filled with joy and love, friendship, laughter, and even some sadness but you know as long as the eight of you stick together, there’s nothing you can’t overcome. 

“To us,” Yoongi raises his glass as do the rest of your friends. You lock eyes with Jimin as you raise your glass. 

“To us.”

Secret  || PJM

part thirty-eight: to us

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[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 8: They Call Them 'Man's Best Friend' For a Reason

Buster was following a scent.

The Wire Fox Terrier had woken up in a box when he first appeared in the present. A box in the same alleyway he would later be found in by his humans come 2032. When that fateful day does come, he’ll be found by Franny and Cornelius. It’s an instant decision that didn’t need convincing. The two will look him over for identification, and when they find none, they’ll scoop him up and take him home, where he'll be instantly showered with love by the rest of the Robinsons. Buster has, is, and always will be a beloved member of the family.

He would not fail them now.

Buster had gone from scent trail to scent trail all day and into the night, but he kept losing them among the endless other scents of the city.

It was in the early hours of the morning when he had finally caught up to somebody.

Buster’s nose had lead him through the city, through two different grocery stores, past a bowling alley, up to the roof of one building, across a clothing line, down a parking garage, into an ice cream parlor, past at least three different street musicians, up a playground slide and down a rockwall, around the same oaktree about eighteen times (but Buster’s a dog and can’t count so maybe it was more like nine), into the city park and finally to a park bench, tucked comfortably under some apple trees.

Buster hopped up onto the wooden park bench and snuffled the snoring figure. The man twitched and giggled. “Lucille… not at the park, honey.” 

Buster barked and the man opened his eyes. “Heaven’s to Betsy! Buster! You found me, old boy!”

Exhausted from a seemingly endless search, Buster flopped down in Bud’s lap with a satisfied huff.

One down, a dozen more to go.

[filmophilea]

feat. @mocnflower

despite the timestamp reading 11:24, the night air is nothing but humid and warm in jakarta. a part of ej regrets agreeing to fly out this late on a work day, his body reeking of exhaustion - albeit the quick change his body adjusted to in terms of timezones and work load, the part of him that’s perpetually sleepy no matter what time of the day it is has been screaming for him to just stop and rest: truth be told, he hasn’t really gotten any of it. in fact, for someone who’s just coming back from vacation, he’s desperately lacking of it in between traveling, planning and catching up with everything and everyone else.

so when they told him the car ride from the airport to the hotel would only be 15 minutes long, he felt relieved. just a little bit of waiting and he’ll be in the confines of a bed, bundled up in between layers and layers of soft sheets and linen. perhaps he’ll order a beer, it’d go well with the midnight smoke he plans to take.

he doesn’t exactly know what comes over him but the moment they arrive, he gets the sudden urge to check his phone. he’s stepping out into the balcony and excusing himself from his friends as they tell him they’ll be ordering up some champagne. he tells them to get settled while he makes sure things are going as planner. it’s a busy weekend after all and there’s a few group of friends he’ll be tending to - his brother and his proposal to his girlfriend, his younger cousin set to arrive tomorrow afternoon (he can already hear her whining through the roof if she’s forced to take a step out in the heat AND commute) and several friends from overseas that has long planned to attend the concert and has expressed the desire to hang out with him. he can’t say no, he could never refuse them. running a hand through his hair, he whisks out his phone and reaches for the box of his cigarettes, fishing out a stick before padding his pockets for his lighter.

perhaps its this feeling of need that finally prompts him to switch his phone from airplane mode to cellular. almost instantly, an influx of notifications begin to bombard his screen, one appearing on top of the other in a heap.

gabriel nam (22:40) - (1) missed call

nate zhou (22:53) – yoooo where the fuck are you

nate zhou (22:54) - i’m at terminal a and your plane is here but you’re nowhere to be found

kit choi (23:02) - hypothetically, what if i told you

kit choi (23:02) - that we actually had a conversation before and we decided that if we caught feelings we’ll tell each other?

ej rolls his eyes at this and swipes it out of his screen, not exactly ready to hear her boy troubles lately. he’s halfway through lighting his cigarette when he sees a name he’s been secretly hoping to see pop up on his notification bar, quickly clicking on it for details. he freezes for a brief second at the sight of the voicemail notification, the calling for a smoke dissipating quickly into thin air as he prompts his device to play her message.

oh yejin (23:20) - (1) missed call

oh yejin (23:25) - (1) new voicemail

“hi. umm.. i’m not sure if you’ve deleted my number yet but it’s yejin.” before he can even control his reactions, ej finds himself scoffing and rolling his eyes. was she being for real or was she kidding? he can’t even tell. “i’m really sorry i left you high and dry, i was really excited to see you, i really was but… i panicked.”

he scoffs, shaking his head.

panicked would be an understatement. panicking would be ignoring him for a day or so. instead she fled town and left him waiting for replies the following days. “my feelings for you just kept on growing…. i thought it was just gonna be a crush but it just kept on evolving into some more and now, as much as i try to push it, it won’t budge and umm.. while i’m here, i’ve been doing a lot of thinking after our texts.. and i mean a lot.”

he takes a deep breath. here it goes - here comes the rejection he’s been bracing himself for. she’ll tell him that despite how much she thinks of him cute, she’s not ready for anything remotely romantic. that she wants space, for him to leave her alone, to move on from the short time of flirting they had.

“if i am to open up myself once again,” he thinks he can hear the hesitation in her voice, but her tone changes right away and very quickly. “i want it to be with you. even if we get some shitty moments, i want you to be by my side— i like you, ej. i really, really… really like you that i think i’m falling for you.”

“yeah... okay, bye— oh god, i need to vomit.”

suddenly, the world is spinning on an axis and he’s left hanging by a thread, holding onto it but barely latching through. did she just say what he thinks she just said? without really thinking, he taps furiously on his phone and dials back her number, tapping impatiently on the back his phone case while he leans against the railing.

come on - pick up, pick up, pick up.

“i’m sorry, but the person you are trying to reach is currently—“ he groans, frustrated while he hangs up and tries again. simultaneously, he’s checking sns to see whether she’s online. he sees the green circular icon next to her name, the tips of his fingers typing away against the screen while the line continues to ring.

‘i know you’re awake,’ he types and sends it.

“i’m sorry, but the person you are trying to reach is currently—“

his breathing catches at his airway when he sees the changes to his chat screen: seen. he types another message and sends it: ‘answer your phone and let’s talk.’

[laupiehouppette]

Nothing last forever - To Lose Yourself To Find Yourself - Chapter 4 : What a day!

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

It was windy and raining buckets. The boy had to cut short his search for food. He's tired anyway. He'd be more likely to catch a cold than anything else, so he'd better get home and get dry.

 It hasn't been a fruitful day, and he hasn't found anything. He'll try again tomorrow, as the rain should have eased by then.

 The return journey goes quite smoothly. Most of the adults who could have caused trouble have taken shelter in nearby buildings. With all this pouring rain, it's hard for him to see far, but if he can't see much, neither can the other adults and monsters.

 Once back at the apartment, Mono dries off as best he can. He's soaked to the bone. Not even his hat could protect his head from all the rain. He wrings out his clothes, and a brown juice drips from all the accumulated dirt. Berk... At least his clothes will be a little cleaner now. He finishes drying off with a towel under the sink. There, that'll do, his clothes will finish drying on him overnight. He's exhausted. Even though he's starting to get really hungry, he doesn't even have the strength to go and see if there's anything to nibble on in the kitchen, he just wants to get some sleep.

As usual, the boy settles under his bed where his plush bears waiting him, on a sweater he's managed to sneak away from his dad. He can afford to make his dusty hiding place a little more comfortable. It's a pity the radiator isn't closer to the bed - he's a bit cold with his clothes still damp. But that's okay, it's not that cold in the house, and it's clearly better than outside.

After getting comfortable, he finally relax. The rain isn't so bad once sheltered, and the noise it makes on the roof is almost pleasant. Mono lets himself slide little by little. He's so tired that, for once, he falls asleep without too much trouble. Just as he's about to fall asleep, he feels as if he's forgotten something important, but what? Before he had time to ponder over it, he sank into a barely conscious, almost deep sleep.

 ---

In the apartment, activity begins to rise. Mono is jolted from his slumber. He really slept deeply last night. He doesn't really like it, going away for so long, even at home. But at least this time, it was without consequence.

 Anyway, there's a lot of activity this morning, more than usual. Apparently, there are two people around. Maybe his father's here today? He's rarely there. He's often away for more than a week, and when he comes back, he only stays for one day, only to leave the next morning, so it's not unusual for the boy to miss him. Not that it's a big deal, but like his mother or any other parent, he doesn't pay him any attention, and that's perfectly fine with him. But after a while, the boy begins to wonder. There's something unusual about all this morning activity. There's someone in the bathroom, but the sounds the other person is making seem different: it's not his mother's clunky walk, nor his father's long strides. They're clicking footsteps, short and hurried. And he hears something rolling? The noise is heading for his room!

 He barely has time to try to understand, when the door to his room is shoved open with force! Mono stifles a cry of surprise and scrambles back under his bed as far as he can. Who's that? The answer is not long in coming: a huge cart, loaded with a big black bag and all sorts of long sticks and accessories, enters the room. It's followed by an adult with a hunched back, a lady he's never seen before. She has small eyeglasses, a green dress and a big bun hair. One of her arms is much longer than the other, almost touching the ground. As for the face, it's pretty monstrous with that crooked jaw and skin covered in red spots.

But what is she doing here, and in his room? She looks around for a moment with an annoyed scowl.

 "Uhg...., they leave messes everywhere they pass." She grumbles, grabbing a broom from her cart. Mono makes himself very small. Does she know he's there? Is she a trapper? It doesn't look like it.

 The lady places the scarf around her neck over her face and starts sweeping the floor, starting with the corners and edges. Mono doesn't dare move from his hiding spot; he just lies there on the sweater, anxiously watching the strange woman waving her broom all over the room. But when did she enter the apartment? He didn't hear her at all. And yet, with his own little set-up in the front hall, he should have... His set-up! He'd completely forgotten to check before going to sleep! That's what he'd forgotten yesterday! He's in big trouble now.

 The lady continues her sweeping, and all the dust begins to fill the room. She ruthlessly pushes his toys across the floor to a corner, before attacking... his drawings. No! it's too late, he can't go out and retrieve them, he'd only reveal his hiding spot and be squashed with that broom. Mono watches helplessly as his masterpieces are swept up and crumpled. The lady grabs a small shovel and scoops it all up, without having to lean down too far with her already bent back and long right arm. What's she doing with his stuff? He didn't expect what followed: she threw all his treasures into the big black bag on the cart. But what does she doing? Again, the boy watches helplessly as she finishes grabbing the rest of his treasures with her long arm and throwing them into the big bag.

 "Disgusting, it's about time we cleaned up around here." She mumbles disgustedly as she throws away the last of the drawings. What does she mean 'disgusting'? Is she talking about his drawings? They're great! But he's beginning to understand now. He's heard of this kind of adult before. They spend their day scooping up everything that's lying around, cleaning everything everywhere with brooms of all sorts of sizes and shapes. He'd never seen one before. The lady with the bun puts the broom and dustpan in the corner of the room and leaves with her cart. Phew... She's gone. Mono can finally breathe. He got a good scare, but at least she didn't go and clean under the bed. With her long arm, she'd have caught him with no problem, and he'd probably have joined his drawings in the big black bag. Or worse...

 His drawings, even his pencils; gone. At least she still has a few colors that escaped the broom, and she hasn't touched her drawings on the wall. He's tempted to go and get them, but he can still hear the adult in the hallway, he might get caught. Maybe if he's quick…

 Barely had he ventured out, that he crawled back under the bed to hide. The lady returns with a strange thing he's never seen before. The thing has a big bag along a handle connected to some kind of massive red and white head-looking thing. Another kind of broom? The lady touches the thing at the tip of the handle and the thing starts to roar and a light bursts out of the head, startling Mono. The lady begins to drag the thing around the room. The thing gobbles up everything in its path, devouring the last of his pencils. But Mono doesn't care about that now, he's got a bigger problem. What's that thing?! The lady moves it to every corner of the room, leaving nothing behind. He can see under the thing's head some kind of mandible that throws everything into some kind of row of red brush teeth spinning at full speed. "A monster?" He thinks with dread. The thing is coming near his bed. Please don't let it get under the bed! The lady keeps tossing around this monster, the... the? Gobbler! It's the first name that pops into his head, the gobbler! At the same moment, the gobbler pokes its head under the bed! Mono can't hold back a scream of terror this time, but it's covered by the creature's incessant roar. His only chance is to hide behind his bear! The monster continues to crawl back and forth under the bed, gradually approaching his final refuge. That's when he realizes he's left his hat behind! Too late, the monster has already sunk its teeth into the hat and gobbled up the precious headgear with a bone-chilling slurp. And now it's coming for him! The poor boy shakes all over, whimpering. He's a goner! That thing's going to swallow him whole! The monster gets closer and closer with each lunge, and it's not far off, just two or three more and he's done for.

As the monster swoops down on him, Mono hugs his bear and prepares for the end. He hopes it won't be too painful. A crack in the brushes, followed by a moan from the monster, is heard.

"Raar, what have I stumbled upon again?" The cleaning lady grumbles.

Mono doesn't dare open his eyes. Is he dead? He didn't feel a thing.

 The cleaning lady pulls the monster out from under the bed. "But what's it doing under the bed?" Exasperated to see what lies between the thing's teeth. The monster continues to moan, as if y it were in agony. Mono dares to look at what's happening. He can't believe his eyes - he's alive! He can see the lady trying to pull something out of the monster's mouth: his father's sweater. What luck!

 The boy watches in astonishment as the lady struggles with the gobbler, which continues to groan, refusing to let go of its hold. He's saved, but for how long? As soon as the lady has taken that cloth off her creature, she's going to throw it back into its gluttonous race. He's got to escape, and now. The moment's perfect, she's too busy fighting with her monster, and if he's lucky, she won't even notice him! He starts running for the door.

 The lady lets out a high-pitched scream. " a vermiiine!!! " She saw him! She drops everything, leaving the gobbler to continue fighting with the sweater, and rushes for the broom she'd left in the corner of the room. Mono seized the opportunity to pass behind her, but she quickly overtook him and narrowly avoided the broom coming down on him! That's really not far. He rushes to the bathroom to escape from the apartment, but to his demise, the door is closed. From the corner of his eye, Mono sees another broom strike coming down on him, but manages to avoid it again, so close that he feels the shockwave. The cleaning lady continues to scream like crazy. Why is she screaming like that? He's the one who's scared! He's cornered against the bathroom door, unable to go any further. He can only watch in horror as the cleaning lady corner him, broom ready to strike.

"You little vermin, I'm going to crush you!" she shrieks.

 Just as Mono thinks his time has come, the door opens behind him and he falls backwards onto the bathroom floor. In the chaos, he spots his mother, who seems taken aback by the situation. The screams must have attracted her attention. Mono doesn't try to understand further and runs towards the ventilation, passing between his mother's legs, who doesn't know where to look anymore. The cleaning lady continues her ranting as he disappears. He's in such a panic that he continues to run through the ventilation without stopping or slowing down.

 This is it. He's got to leave now. He's been spotted by that adult and her monster. He won't be able to come back. All because he forgot to check his system first. It's not fair! It's the only time he's ever forgotten. No one but his father or mother ever set it off. Why is this the first time he's been so careless that it's cost him? He continues his run without looking ahead, his vision blurred by tears.

 That's when he collides with something and stumbles over it, hitting the sheet metal with a loud thud. "ouche! Look out!" yelps a surprised voice.

 What did he bump into? Mono is still stunned by his fall when he feels that something is touching him. He flinches with a little squeak , before curling into himself. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay." Says a worried voice, "Sorry I didn't mean scare you."

It's a child's voice, a boy's one. Mono, out of breath, unwinds to see another boy, in a red sweater and gray pants, a little taller than him. He recognizes him: it's Tomah. They met in the park several weeks ago. They quickly clicked and have been hanging out from time to time ever since.

 The two boys seem equally surprised by their abrupt encounter. Tomah puts back his hat, that had fallen off in the turmoil, and he can see that Mono has just been through something awful. "Hey Mono, what's going on? What's wrong? "he asks, still worried. Mono, still shaken, struggles to catch his breath. The boy in the red sweater rubs his back, trying his best to calm his friend down. "Breathe. Try breathe slowly and deep," he instructs calmly. Mono tries, but he's struggling, sobbing and coughing. Tomah continues to encourage and comfort him as best he can.

After a while, Mono finally manages to control his breathing and begins to calm down. He sits up and lets out a long sigh. Tomah gives him a moment before asking him what happened. Mono explains his misfortune to his friend, but everything comes out disjointed and disorganized. Tomah seems to more or less understand what Mono is talking about and smiles at him, "Hey, do you want to come with me? My adults aren't here." Mono accepts this invitation without hesitation. He desperately needs some comfort before leaving home for ever.

 -

 It doesn't take long for the two boys to reach their desired apartment. Tomah leads Mono into his room.

 "I've someone to show you," he says playfully, "Olivie? I'm here."

 From under the bed, a pale-skinned little girl, smaller than Mono, emerges. She's dressed in a green knit dress and has long light hair. She greets Mono shyly, who greets her just as shyly.

 Tomah then explains how he met Olivie just over a week ago. He found her during one of his foraging trips in another neighbourhood. She and her sister had been kicked out of their house like so many others. But, unfortunately, her older sister had been caught and eaten by an adult monster. On her own, Olivie would never have survived more than a week. So Tomah invited her to come and live with him; his parents were out all the time, so it would be easy to keep her hidden from them. She was able to recover from her sister's death in safety, although she still has regular nightmares about it. But despite her frail appearance, she showed resourcefulness and adapted easily to her new environment. Once the introductions have been made, Tomah asks Mono what happened earlier. Mono, now feeling safe, manages to explain his misadventure with the cleaning lady; his drawings thrown away, his hat swallowed by the gobbler and then hurled at him under the bed. Finally, his miraculous escape from the lady who tried to crush him with a broom.

 "wow, you got really lucky!" Tomah exclaims. Mono can only nod vigorously. Olivie looks at him curiously "What's gobbler Mono? "she asks in a small voice. Mono is quick to describe the creature. "It's big, noisy monster with a big, flat head with a big, shiny 'eye and a huge belly! It ate everything.". Tomah seems to think for a moment, then "did it have brush teeth?" he asks.  "Yes, and it even had some on the side," confirms Mono. He can see Tomah and Olivie smiling. What's the deal? Why are they smiling like that?

"It's not a monster, it's a machine" Tomah says, laughing. Mono gives him a quizzical look. "Adults use things like that to clean the floor." He continues. Mono understands better now, that's why the lady was pushing him around. This thing wasn't alive. He thought it was some kind of household monster for the lady. But, that wont change anything for him now...

 "But now I have to leave... The cleaning lady knows where i'm hiding ..." Mono sniffs .

"No no no, you won't need to, you can stay ." Tomah hastens.

Mono, stunned by what his friend has just said, doesn't understand. "Huh? But she knows I'm here, she knows where I'm hiding!"

" She doesn't really know you're here. "Tomah explains how he's heard similar stories before. In most cases, the adults who come to clean aren't particularly looking for the children they've cleared from their homes, and there's very little risk in staying. Once they think they've chased them away, they don't check to see if the 'vermin' have returned.

"So I can stay?" Mono asks still incredulous. Tomah and Olivie both nod. Mono lets himself fall backward onto the carpet, relieved.

 After a moment a small gurgle breaks the silence.

 "'Hungry?" Tomah asks rhetorically. Mono nods. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen" he concludes.

 All three make their way to the there. "There's good stuff in the high door, at three we should get to it."

 Once on the counter, they coordinate and make kid ladder to reach the precious cupboard. Tomah being the tallest, he goes to the bottom of the ladder, carrying Mono on his shoulders. Then it's Olivie's turn to climb. She's so light and agile that she reaches Mono's shoulders effortlessly. All she has to do is open and climb into the cupboard, and with a little push from Mono, she does it with ease.

Olivie looks through the cans and cookie boxes. She sets her mind on an open, well-started box of golden cookies and takes three of them. She passes them to the two boys before climbing back down, as lightly as before.

 " Can't take too much, or the adults will know and put poison ." Olivie explained.

 " Good thinking." Congratulates Tomah, ruffling her hair.

 "Here, this is for you." Olivie says, offering one of the cookies to Mono. The boy, delighted with the gift, thanks them and tastes the cookie.

 It's so good! It's a butter cookie! His mother sometimes takes some with her tea. He's eaten the soggy crumbs at the bottom of a cup before, but this is the first time he's eaten a fresh, whole one. It's a shame they can't have more, but Olivie's right. If they take too much, it could end badly. The trio return to the bedroom to nibble their cookies in peace. They continue to recount their various adventures, and play, though always in silence. A rare moment when the horrors of the world are forgotten for a moment.

-

When Mono gets home, he can see that the cleaning lady has left. The apartment is quiet, and he can hear his mother watching TV as usual. The boy goes to his room to make sure of something.

The gobbler is gone: the second good news. He knows it's not a real monster now, but he's going to keep calling it that, as it sums up the thing perfectly.

He now goes around his room to inspect the extent of the damage. To his relief, he discovers that not everything has been thrown away. All that's left are a few wooden blocks and his ball, and his drawings on the walls, which have remained untouched. Well, at least that's saved. But to his great surprise, hiding under the table, he finds one last survivor: a crayon. Only one pencil seems to have escaped the gobbler. It's a black crayon, but a crayon not least.

Now he goes to its hiding place under the bed. This is the most important thing. This is where he finds, or rather, doesn't find something: his bear! His bear has disappeared! Please, that crazy woman didn't throw it away too! Mono searches the corners of the room for his precious companion. Finally, he climbs onto the chest of drawers to get a better view of the room.

 Phew... the most important thing hasn't been lost.

Now he'll have to rebuild his nest. Mono replaces his faithful bear under the bed in the far corner. He'll also need another sweater. There are plenty in his parents' drawers.

It didn't take him long to put everything back in order. Best of all, the underside of the bed isn't as dusty as it used to be. It's going to be a nice hiding spot now. No more itchy nose.

 Once his nest is back in place, Mono explores the apartment to see what's changed. The apartment is clean, with all the clothes and debris lying around gone. It's so strange to see everything like this. He's so used to seeing mountains of garbage and dust everywhere he goes, that it's just normal to him.

He quietly moves into the living room, avoiding disturbing his mother in her favourite occupation.

What happened in the kitchen? Mono heads for what interests him most, the counter. He climbs up and discovers, to his dismay, that everything, absolutely everything, has disappeared! Not a single plate left, not a single crumb of food, not even on the table. It's all gone! Disappointed, Mono can only accept the result: there's nothing left.

Too bad...

 Since there's nothing interesting left for him to do, he might as well get some rest. But this time, he's not going to forget his system. He's never going to forget it ever again after being caught out like that! He should have enough material left to make another one. A ball and a few blocks is all he needs, and luckily he's got what he needs. After a few trips back and forth, his alarm system is back in place. No more unwelcome surprises. With peace of mind, the boy was about to return to his room when something under the sofa caught his eye: paper. They must have been too well hidden for him to draw on! His mother is focused on her show. Discreetly, Mono reaches behind the sofa and grabs the few sheets. Just as well, he's got some great drawing ideas... Once settled in his room, he gets to work on his drawings. He draws today's major events and encounters: the cleaning lady with her broom and her bad temper. He hopes never to see her again. Now, the gobblor, he has to give him a fierce look, with all its teeth and its roaring. Perfect! To end on a happy note, Mono draws himself with Tomah and Olivie, the three of them holding hands. He hopes they'll be able to see each other more often, it's nice to have good friends.

Mono yawns, starting to feel the fatigue coming on. He should get some rest before he gets too tired. He wouldn't want to sleep too deeply like last night. He'll settle into his new, clean nest, where his bear is waiting for him. In the end, the whole adventure with the cleaning lady wasn't all bad (but he doesn't like her, let's not exaggerate).

 For the first time in his life, Mono will be able to rest in a clean little nest under a dust-free bed. ***

  After Mono escapes from the cleaning lady

In the living room, two ladies are chatting over a cup of tea. The lady with the bun is all worked up. The poor woman struggles to get over her emotions, recounting her misfortune. The things one can discover when cleaning other people's houses.

"Then it came out from under the bed and was running all over the room..."

 The other lady put her hand on the bun lady's shoulder, comforting her and in a barely comprehensible way. " There there, it's over now..." she said in a gentle tone. The lady in the bun nodded, taking a sip of tea and shaking nervously.

 Since then, the two ladies have become good friends, inviting each other in turn to their homes for tea and a chat... which did not fail to displease a certain boy...

- - <O> - - 

{ Chapter index } __________________

[bouwrites]

Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 23

The Cause of Sorrow

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

Fair is fair, Veery has fun at the ball. Dorothea and Hilda are right, and Veery will have to admit that to their faces soon.

Once he can catch his breath.

Fun as it is, he’s still himself. The night isn’t even half over, but he is exhausted from being in there for so long. He does his best to make sure everyone who wants to dance with him has a chance to – it is a special occasion, after all, and Veery does like dancing, but it’s not too long before he simply has to leave.

He grabs a bite to eat at the feast and then slips out into the dark, nearly abandoned monastery, and breathes. Being around people is just so tiring, even when he’s having fun. He yawns widely, ready for a nap.

But where to nap? This might be one of his very rare chances to nap near the cathedral, so he heads across the bridge to look for a good spot. He can’t shift over here, but that’s fine. He’ll probably spend a lot of tomorrow shifted. Tonight, he’s content with simply finding a comfortable spot and laying out.

He just wanders for a while, marveling at the cathedral in silence. It truly is an impressive structure. Veery almost never gets this close to it, so it’s even more impressive up close. He carefully avoids the housecats roaming around and wanders inside.

It’s strange, seeing this place empty. It feels like the sort of place that should be haunted. As if it is simply saying that if no people will inhabit it, then ghosts will. This place can never be truly abandoned.

It’s all just fleeting thoughts, though. Veery doesn’t want to nap here, inside. He continues through to the other side of the chapel and startles a bit when he scents some students and hears giggling. Is a couple sneaking out to spend some time together? Ha, Veery is half-surprised he’s not scenting Sylvain as one of the pair.

Good for them, honestly. It smells like they’re in that tower where Rhea was during the assault on the Rite of Rebirth. Is it just called the Goddess Tower? Something like that. Veery really should know this, but he avoids this part of the monastery, for the most part, so it’s easy to forget.

The young student couple come out of the Goddess Tower, catch sight of him, blush from their ears to their necks, and take off back towards the main part of the monastery. Veery just watches them go with no small amount of amusement. Humans get embarrassed by the strangest things.

Since they leave, though… Veery can’t recall ever going inside the Goddess Tower before. Isn’t it supposed to be off-limits? But he supposes that, if it is open tonight, he may as well investigate. He’s not likely to come back over here again soon, so he can put off his nap for long enough to climb the tower.

And climb he does. The tower is quiet, almost somber, but it suits him nicely. He likes the quiet, the chilly winter air, the gentle whistle of the wind brushing the windows. The tower is mostly just one large spiral staircase, with a few landings. There isn’t even anything on those landings, it’s just… empty.

He wonders what the purpose of this tower is. Maybe Seteth or Flayn can tell him. It’s a nice place, though. Even though it’s inside, Veery thinks the top of this tower may be the best napping spot on this side of the bridge. It’s empty, sort of like an uninhabited cave, but it’s not so ridiculously cavernous as the chapel.

Can he get away with napping here?

…Probably not. Veery doubts that one couple is the only group sneaking away from the ball tonight, and he doesn’t want his nap to be interrupted by a bunch of humans messing around.

“Veery?”

Veery smiles out the window. This might be the best view in Garreg Mach, except perhaps from the roof of the cathedral, but that isn’t technically meant to be stood on. “Hello, Professor,” he says, identifying her by sound and scent rather than looking.

“Hello,” Professor Byleth says, joining him at the window. “Tired of dancing?”

Veery groans weakly. “Sort of. It’s not the dancing so much as the people. Honestly, I could probably dance until I collapse! I just… can’t stay in that crowd any longer.”

“I understand,” Professor Byleth says. “I’m worn out myself.”

Veery chuckles. “I’m sure. You’re popular. You hardly had time to breathe between dances.”

“You weren’t much different.”

Veery rubs his neck. “Well… yeah, for a bit. It got better once the initial wave stopped, though. Not you, though. Everyone wants to dance with you.”

Professor Byleth shakes her head for a moment and looks back out the window. “Did you come here to investigate the legend about the Goddess Tower?”

“Legend?” Veery asks. “Uh… no. Honestly, I was looking for a place to nap. What’s this legend?”

Professor Byleth smiles for a moment, and then says, “The gatekeeper told me that if a man and a woman make a wish here on the last night of the Ethereal Moon, then that wish will come true.”

“A wish-granting tower?” Veery chuckles. “And one very particular about how and when the wish is made?”

“I think it has more to do with the goddess than the tower itself.” Professor Byleth shrugs. “But that’s the legend as I heard it.”

“Sounds silly,” Veery says, giggling a little. He watches Professor Byleth, then, wondering about her for a moment.

Rhea is very cagey about Professor Byleth. Everything about her is a mystery. Her Crest, her importance in everything that’s happening. Rhea clearly places some major importance on her, and she can use the Sword of the Creator without the goddess’ heart, for some reason.

“I heard students sometimes sneak out here to make wishes,” she says.

“I actually saw a couple when I got here,” Veery answers. “They seemed embarrassed, but… they were leaving when they saw me, so I hope I didn’t interrupt them.”

“Even though it’s silly?”

Veery grins. “Silly doesn’t mean it can’t be fun. Who cares if it’s true if they have fun coming out here and making their wish?”

Professor Byleth nods.

Veery frowns. Why exactly is Rhea so odd about Professor Byleth? And if every Relic needs the Crest Stone to unlock its power, why should the Sword of the Creator simply be an exception? Veery doesn’t remember anyone mentioning that the heart wasn’t present when Nemesis used the sword, so… the simplest answer would be that the Crest Stone is present, wouldn’t it?

And why does Professor Byleth have the Crest of Flames in the first place? The Crests come from the Crest Stones, so…

Veery bites his lip. This is such a stupid idea.

“Is something wrong?”

He jumps. “Um… not exactly. But…” Can he just ask something like that? Does Professor Byleth even know if it’s true? Veery thinks she probably doesn’t. She doesn’t seem aware of why Rhea is so obsessed with her, or any more knowledgeable about anything, really, except her own expertise.

“But?”

Veery is a little too tired to lie about anything, though… “Can I hold your hand for a moment?”

Professor Byleth blinks, surprised, and then smiles. “Of course.”

Veery tentatively takes her hand, looks out the window, takes a breath and… listens.

Nothing.

Veery breathes out with relief. Even when he opens his heart to her, exposes himself and listens for her heart in return, he feels none of the resonance of an agell. It’s… a stupid, crazy theory, but he’s glad for some evidence of it being wrong. He does not want to think about the implications of Professor Byleth having the goddess’ heart implanted inside her, somehow.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. “Thanks,” he says, dropping her hand.

After a moment of silence, Professor Byleth says, “…We should get back to the ball.”

“Hm?” Veery frowns. That’s… sort of sudden. Frankly, though, he’s just relieved that she’s not asking why he wants to hold her hand all weirdly like that. “Oh, sorry, don’t let me keep you. I’m… I’m not going to go back. I danced with everyone I wanted to dance with, and I’m still… not ready for more people. I’ll just go take a nap somewhere.”

Professor Byleth nods. “No one really cares for tonight, but the Goddess Tower is still technically off-limits.”

“Huh? Really? I just assumed when I saw those students leaving…”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to warn you to nap somewhere else.”

Veery chuckles awkwardly. “I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t stay here.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Bye. Have fun with the rest of the ball.”

Veery smiles as he watches the professor retreat down the stairs, then shakes his head and moves to follow. It’s naptime. The fact that that stupid theory even occurs to him is evidence enough that he needs sleep.

Veery’s nap is very rudely interrupted by the sound of roaring.

…Wait. Roaring?

Veery springs to his feet, wide awake and alert. The sound is coming from the direction of the unused chapel that’s falling into ruins. Veery only knows the area because he goes there to run sometimes – but it’s usually off-limits.

And there should definitely not be anything capable of roaring like that back there.

He rushes to follow the scent of someone he knows, someone he can relay this information to. If the ball is still ongoing, that roar may not be loud enough to be heard over the music and all the people. Veery doesn’t think he’s been asleep for very long, so… yes, the party is clearly still in full swing.

He sprints down there and slips inside.

Too many people. Way too many people. Why are there this many people this late at night? Humans are supposed to be asleep by now.

Veery growls under his breath as he shoves through the crowd, looking for Professor Byleth or Claude, preferably. He catches sight of pink. Hilda. Good enough. He shoves past some students, upsetting some, and grabs Hilda’s arm.

“Veery! You came back! Did you want another dance?”

Veery looks around at the students enjoying the ball and decides to keep quiet. He leans in to whisper in her ear. “I heard roaring. It sounded like… those demonic beasts. I think there are a few near the monastery. We need to get Claude and Professor Byleth.”

Hilda’s eyes go wide for a moment, but it passes quickly. She sets her jaw and nods. “I think Professor Byleth left. I’ll check her room and get the others who left if I can find them. Any other Deer you see, send them to the classroom. We’ll meet up there.”

Veery nods and moves on, searching the crowd for the others.

He finds Sylvain first, and though he isn’t a Deer, Veery still fills him in and tells him to grab the Lance of Ruin and meet them at the classroom. If these really are demonic beasts, that lance will be useful. Then, he finds Dorothea and she takes the decision out of his hands by demanding to know what’s happening. It’s the same with Edelgard and Hubert, when he bumps into her, and then Annette and Mercedes.

It’s only after that that he finally sniffs out Claude, who all but pushes Veery out the door the moment they lock eyes, already asking what’s happening. Veery grabs his hand and guides him towards the classroom. It’s not long before there’s another roar. “That’s what’s happening,” Veery says grimly.

“Was that…?”

“I haven’t looked yet,” Veery admits. “I wanted to gather you guys first.”

Claude purses his lips. “You did the right thing. Even if it’s nothing… it’s better that you worry us than walk into danger on your own. You said the others are gathering in the classroom?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s hurry, then.”

The classroom is a mess when they arrive. Armor and weapons are strewn about the place as everyone rushes to prepare and change out of their impractical formal wear and figure out exactly what’s going on. There’s a blanket set up in the corner of the room where it looks like the girls are hurriedly changing out of their dresses, the Lance of Ruin twitches eerily on one of the desks, Professor Byleth, already in full armor, checks everyone as they finish their preparations.

Hilda apparently brings Lysithea and Marianne. Good. If they really are dealing with those demonic beasts, they’ll need that Seraphim magic. Weirdly enough, Balthus and Constance are here, too. Veery is pretty sure that he doesn’t see them in… months? They stay in Abyss, for the most part, so he doesn’t cross paths with them too much.

Well, if they’re helping, Veery isn’t complaining.

“Oh, you found Claude!” Hilda exclaims, sidling up to them, already in her armor. “Go put your armor on, Claude! We have to hurry!”

Claude is already fastening the straps of his armor over his fancy formal wear. Apparently, he’s electing to not bother changing completely.

Hilda shakes her head. “I pounded on some doors, but it looks like you found a good number of people, too. I’ve been listening for the roars, too – those are definitely more demonic beasts. Professor Byleth agrees, too. And we saw the Knights of Seiros mobilizing, but it was just a small team. We’re going to need to back them up.”

Veery nods. “Got it. I’m ready to go anytime. What can I help with?”

“Ask the professor.”

He nods again, pats Hilda’s shoulder, and moves past her to approach Professor Byleth. She gives him a tense smile. “Thank you for acting so quickly. My father and the knights are holding the beasts off for now, but their force isn’t big enough for how many roars I’m hearing.”

Veery shakes his head, uncomfortable coldness gripping his chest. The knights? Do they have any experience with beasts like these? Claude says that demonic beasts exist around Fódlan and pop up from time to time, but… Veery isn’t as confident in a small team of knights as he is in Professor Byleth and his friends. He hopes they’ll be okay until everyone arrives. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Professor Byleth frowns, looks over the students, and nods. “Hilda, Leonie, Lorenz, Sylvain, Lysithea! We’re going. Claude, you’re in charge of the rest. Make sure everyone is prepared, then come and back us up.”

“Understood, Teach!” Claude says.

“About time.” Lysithea huffs, tapping her foot impatiently. “Let’s go!”

“Veery, you’re with us, too,” Professor Byleth says. “You’re ready, right?”

“Yes, Professor,” he answers.

He rushes out of the door alongside his group and marches towards where the roars are coming from. It’s stressful – he wants to run as fast as he can, but they can’t risk tiring themselves out on the way and not helping at all when they get there.

But they do eventually get there, after far too long, and take in the scene. Captain Jeralt and his team of knights are fighting off one of the demonic beasts (and they are demonic beasts, reptilian ones, from dragon hearts, though their appearance is lither and smoother than Veery has seen from either the lance in Conand Tower or the one in Zanado. They seem almost… deformed, or half-formed, to Veery, and he shudders, trying not to think about that.) to open an escape route for a student behind them.

Veery can spot at least three other beasts and several students running for cover further into the ruins, too.

“We’re going in one group,” Professor Byleth says. “Lysithea, look for openings for Seraphim – don’t waste your magic if you can help it. Sylvain, you and I are going to make them open up. Leonie, Lorenz, Hilda, do what you can, keep it distracted for us. Veery, meow if you smell a student hiding so we don’t miss them. You’re also our best healer, so don’t take unnecessary risks. Otherwise, support Hilda. Everyone stay flexible. Got it?”

Everyone yells their affirmations, and they dive into the fray.

Captain Jeralt and the knights can handle one demonic beast, so Professor Byleth leads them to the next closest one near the center of the battlefield. Veery follows at the tail of the group, conscious that he will be the primary healer if anyone gets hurt, and keeps sniffing.

He’s pretty sure the trapped students are further in, though, where those other two demonic beasts are. Unfortunately, one demonic beast quite securely blocks their way forward.

Leonie and Lorenz heckle it with arrows and fire, drawing its attention back and forth between the two. Professor Byleth cuts wide with the Sword of the Creator, whipping through the flesh of the creature.

It’s actually almost concerning how quickly they manage to kill this one. It’s tough for certain, but after Conand Tower and Zanado, “demonic beast countermeasures” is a standard part of the Golden Deer’s curriculum with Professor Byleth teaching.

Professor Byleth catches the thing with an upward sweep of her sword, knocking it onto its back legs. Sylvain follows up by throwing the Lance of Ruin like a javelin into the beast’s underbelly – the force of the power unleashed by the Relic upon impact actually booms and keeps the beast’s momentum going up and back, and then Lysithea’s powerful Seraphim spell hits it right where the Lance of Ruin is still lodged in its hide.

Veery rushes in, chasing the Seraphim spell as soon as he sees it.

The previous attacks knock the beast upwards, yes, but not enough. Veery grits his teeth and sprints as fast as he can. The beast starts to fall forward, limp. Sylvain stares up at it.

Veery rams into Sylvain, knocking them both out of the way of the beast just before it crushes them. They hit the ground hard, Veery on top of Sylvain, and get the breath knocked out of both of them.

“Be more careful!” Lysithea yells.

“You two alright?” asks Leonie.

Hilda brings her axe down on the fallen beast, to ensure it is dead.

Veery scowls at Sylvain. Be more careful is a good way to say it. Unfortunately, all Veery can really do is lick Sylvain’s cheek and roll off of him.

“Ow! Rough! Geez!” Sylvian pouts, holding his cheek. “Why’s your tongue so rough?”

Veery huffs, rolls his eyes, and puts his paw on Sylvain’s chest to heal the bruise that’s bound to form from Veery tackling him.

“He’s a cat, Sylvain,” Hilda chuckles. “Of course, his tongue is rough.”

“Why are you licking each other on the battlefield, anyway?” Lysithea growls. “We still have more demonic beasts, you know!”

Lorenz shakes his head. “I believe it was a punishment for not getting out of the way.”

At least someone understands Veery.

“Regardless, Lysithea is correct. Are you both ready to continue?”

Sylvain grumbles, but quickly retrieves his lance. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Veery nods as well.

And then the beast dissolves, in that same way that happens when Miklan is made into one of these by the Lance of Ruin, and everyone jumps. “A student?” Leonie gasps. “But… how?”

“We can examine the bodies later,” Lysithea says. “We’ll need to retrieve the hearts, too, but for now, there are still demonic beasts running amok.”

Everyone’s expression hardens. “You’re right,” Lorenz says. “Which one’s next?”

There are two ahead of them, one to the right and the other to the left. If Captain Jeralt finishes up faster and comes up his side of the battlefield, he can take on the one to the left, or…

A cheer rises up from the right side, and Claude, Edelgard, and Dimitri lead Dorothea, Annette, Mercedes, Hubert, Dedue, Marianne, Balthus, and Constance down to face the demonic beast on that side.

Where does Dimitri come from? Veery doesn’t care, at this point. The others probably find him on the way and pick him up. What matters the most is that it makes their next target clear. “To the left!” Professor Byleth says. “Let’s make this quick and support your classmates!”

“You got it, Professor!”

They charge in. Veery sniffs out a hidden student, cowering behind some rubble. He meows loudly for Professor Byleth. “Draw the beast this way!” she orders. Hilda and Sylvain attack the beast from Veery’s side, pushing it back towards Professor Byleth, and then they back off as Leonie and Lorenz pelt it with ranged attacks that draw its attention to bring it further away from the unarmed student trapped here.

Veery checks the student over, though they cower from him, and finds no obvious injuries, so he turns back to the battle.

They do make it quick. With two Relics and Lysithea’s absurdly powerful, super-effective spellwork, the demonic beast doesn’t stand a chance. Veery spends most of the battle tending to Lorenz, who gets swept by the beast’s tail. He’s fine, but it’s a hard hit. Otherwise, Veery’s only contribution to this battle is summoning a Blizzard spell to bring up spikes of ice just in front of the beast’s foot, tripping it up and giving Professor Byleth another opening.

It goes down and dissolves into yet another student.

Veery has a terrible feeling about this.

Once they ensure the cowering student is safe, they take off to support the other group led by the house leaders, but their beast falls just as they reach them. Professor Byleth then leads them all into the abandoned chapel, where the beasts come from, and finds more students.

There’s… no saving these students, though. They must be in here when the others change into those beasts. A few of their team look green at the sight, and they quickly turn away once they determine that there’s nothing more about to jump out to attack them.

The Knights of Seiros finish with their beast as well. The students meet up with them close to the entrance, but rather than listen to them chat, Veery goes over to the student that was the beast the knights fell to investigate the body.

He needs to recover the Crest Stone. But why does this student have one to begin with?

He rolls the body over and starts going over it with magic, hoping that the Crest Stone will shine like a beacon on such a small body. It… does but doesn’t. It’s fairly obvious, but not as much as it should be. He finds it, half-buried in the poor student’s arm, and it’s not a Crest Stone at all, but a sharp, jagged shard of one.

Veery stares at it in horror, uncomprehending. He’s never seen one of these break before. Sure, in theory, he knows that it happens, but even the ancient ones he recovers from the beasts in Zanado are more or less whole. What happens to this one to completely shatter it like this?

Veery hesitantly noses the thing, sucks in a shaky breath, and listens.

A strangled yelp escapes him as he jumps back, unable to handle even a fragment of a moment of exposing himself to it. The moment he opens his heart he’s completely and utterly overcome with pain. It is nothing like the Lance of Ruin either. This isn’t the echo of pain lived through that remains etched in the dragon’s heart. This one tears into him and slices every part of his body apart. It feels like he’s being rent into pieces and will suffer the same fate as this shattered heart.

Desperately, he looks up to the others, hoping to catch Claude, or Sylvain, or Professor Byleth’s attention.

Instead he sees a red-haired student, the one who is rescued all those months ago alongside Flayn, with her hand on a dagger plunged into Captain Jeralt’s back. Captain Jeralt grunts, collapses-

Veery is nosing the Crest Stone shard.

He pulls back instantly, not listening to it for a moment, and looks up.

“Thanks for all your help, sir!”

The red-haired student is skipping around Captain Jeralt. Veery sees Professor Byleth reach for her sword. What in the world is happening?

He sees the glint of a dagger in the red-haired student’s hand. Veery’s breath catches in his throat and he runs. What was that? A… premonition? Does it have something to do with that awful, awful Crest Shard?

Veery isn’t fast enough. He’s too far away and he hesitates from the surprise of it all too much at the start. Professor Byleth throws out her sword, extending it to try to spear the traitorous student, but a mage – an Agarthan mage, like Solon – appears and blocks the attack.

Veery runs. He roars, trying with all his might to reach Captain Jeralt on time, or at least warn him, but the dagger is already deep in Captain Jeralt’s back.

Veery doesn’t slow down. He jumps anyway, but the student is fast too and notices him. She smirks like this is fun and turns to face him.

And Veery runs face-first into a magical shield.

“That’s enough,” the Agarthan mage says. (Veery doesn’t know what an “Agarthan” looks like, but the pale skin, the over-the-top evilness, even the color scheme all matches Solon exactly, so he has a pretty good guess who this man is fighting for.)

“What are you doing here?” the student pouts. “I was just about to have some fun!”

“You will die if you continue this battle,” the mage says simply. “There will be other opportunities to kill these worms.”

And then, as Veery finally shakes off the impact with that stupidly solid magic shield, the two vanish with that same odd warp spell that the Death Knight and Solon use.

…Damn it.

Professor Byleth runs to Captain Jeralt and pulls him into her lap. Veery runs forward, too, hoping but not… optimistic. He’s not optimistic. A wound like that… it’s like Veery’s, when the Death Knight stabs him back then. Even if there’s no poison on the blade, Veery is extremely lucky and only survives because he is repositioned just so that the sword misses the most critical areas. Where Captain Jeralt’s wound is…

Minutes, at most.

Veery rushes to him anyway, shifting back and skidding to his other side, opposite Professor Byleth. Mercedes, Dorothea, and Marianne all rush to his side to look, too, and Professor Byleth tilts her father so that they can see the wound.

“Oh my…” Mercedes gasps.

The wound isn’t normal, that much they can say easily, but beyond that… Veery holds a hand over the wound, and Mercedes quickly links her fingers through his, sharing in this spell, and they look into the wound as they do their best to close it.

It won’t heal. Veery knows there is no problem with their Faith magic, but the wound won’t close, and inside… “Mercedes…” Veery says.

Mercedes closes her eyes, bows her head, and tugs Veery gently away. “I’m so sorry,” she says, as much to Professor Byleth and Captain Jeralt as to Veery, Dorothea, Marianne, and herself.

There’s just no way. The wound doesn’t react to Faith magic, and even if it did… the damage inside Captain Jeralt isn’t a clean cut like a normal steel blade would make. It’s degenerating and only getting worse, like some kind of poison that speeds up decay. Veery makes one last attempt to purge the poison, using everything Professor Manuela teaches him about the subject and everything else he can safely assume, but the wound, the poison – if it even is poison – just refuses to cooperate with magic.

It’s been seconds, and Captian Jeralt needs to have actual progress done minutes ago. There’s no way they can save him.

Veery can do nothing as Professor Byleth looks down at her father, as her father says his last words, as Professor Byleth cries.

Slowly, as if responding to her heart, the heavens themselves begin to pour down on them. Veery can do nothing but watch as his professor sobs for her dead father, whose death Veery… sees, in some kind of premonition, but still can’t do anything to stop.

What the hell was that vision? What’s the point of it if he can’t change a thing? Is this… is this anguish that Professor Byleth is feeling… his fault? Because he hesitates? Because he can’t do more?

Veery still kind of feels like he’s being torn apart. It’s hard to breathe, and he can’t stop crying. Strong arms lift him up, pull him tight to their body, and Veery doesn’t even register who it is until he’s already turned into them and sobbing his own eyes out. It’s only on a gasping breath in that he takes in the scent largely by accident and something finally clicks in his brain.

Sylvain. Sylvian is holding him as he cries, murmuring gently into his ear, rubbing his back. Slowly, it becomes easier to compose himself. With Sylvain holding him tight, Veery calms down, breathes, he focuses on breathing, taking in Sylvain’s scent each time, and calms.

He has so many questions, and he feels like he’s not going to get the answers. He knows one thing for sure, and that’s that this is probably the most severely inappropriate time to ask. The Crest Shard, the premonition, the Agarthans, the dagger that student uses and the strange wound it leaves…

Does any of it matter, when Professor Byleth is kneeling in the mud, bawling over her dead father?

Slowly, with more deep breaths and shaky movements, Veery pulls away from Sylvain just enough to look at the situation once more.

Clearly, Veery isn’t the only student moved to tears by Professor Byleth’s. Every one of the healers is sobbing openly, clutching onto each other or another student as they do so. Annette, despite being Mercedes’ support, is also openly crying

Leonie is shaking, but unlike others, she hides her tears. The rain masks them as she ducks her head and stands vigil with the other Deer. Lorenz, Lysithea, Hilda – with Marianne crying into her, Claude, and Leonie all stand in a semicircle around Professor Byleth. Far enough to give her space, but tight enough that they can easily stop anyone who tries to approach.

Dimitri, Dedue, Edelgard, Hubert, and the Wolves all move solemnly, distant and respectful, talking quietly with the knights to try to clean up… everything, and minimize the load on the professor and the Deer.

Veery… needs to collect the shards. The shards of dragon heart impaled into the deceased students. Solidifying his resolve and hardening his heart, he sighs, pulls away from Sylvian, and gets to work. There are four. At least one that’s a mere shard – most likely all of them are in the same state. When Veery extracts the shard from the first student’s corpse, he’s extremely careful not to open himself up to it.

Honestly… he’s terrified of the thing. This isn’t getting researched. He’s not letting a human ever touch it. Neither Linhardt nor Professor Hanneman will convince him to hand these broken fragments over to them even temporarily. He’s going to gather them all, ask Mercedes to give them some kind of funeral rite, and then do everything in his power to destroy them utterly.

He collects all four shards himself, warning off the knights who try to help, and growling harshly at Edelgard when she tries and doesn’t listen to his warnings. When he has all the pieces, he looks at it, fits them together… it’s one heart. All four are one single heart. Not a whole heart, there are still pieces missing that might be more shards, but the four shards are enough to identify it.

And it’s a heart he recognizes.

Veery starts trembling, vibrating with grief and rage and everything in between, because this heart is the same one that he retrieves in Zanado. The dragon… there is something wrong with it. Veery knows that from the start. But to do this… to do this to this dragon’s heart… Why?

Gods, he can’t look at this anymore. Lorenz kindly gives him a handkerchief so Veery can wrap up the heart as neatly as he can. He still has to carry it, but it’s… better than nothing.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, listening to their professor cry. Their professor, who has a reputation, though undeserved, for being unfeeling. Their professor, whom every student unanimously adores because it’s so obvious how much she cares about each and every one of them. How long do they sit in silence, unable to do a single thing for her as she cries for the first time in her life?

Professor Byleth, who with no reason and no excuse simply decides that Veery is a part of the Golden Deer and welcomes him into a… a family that he loves so much. Veery feels as if he’s letting her down. It burns inside him, that crushing shame in his chest and failure constricting his throat.

He isn’t fast enough this time. He hesitates, so he’s not fast enough. And now, because of it, Captain Jeralt is dead. The premonition should be all he needs. He sees it happen and is brought back to before then, and he still fails! What… what is he supposed to do now? What can he do?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

There is nothing he can do when the Knights of Seiros take Captain Jeralt’s body and carry it into the monastery. There is nothing he can do when Professor Byleth shuts herself away in her father’s office. There is nothing he can do when all the students present collapse in the Golden Deer’s classroom and just… stare, lost in their thoughts, grief, and worry.

No. No, there is something he can do.

Veery leaves, finds the laundry room, and steals as many blankets as he can carry. He gets back, finding nearly everyone exactly as he leaves them, and carefully starts wrapping up his classmates in the blankets. Claude looks at him for a moment, as do Edelgard and Dimitri, and then all three of them come to help distribute the blankets. Dimitri moves the furniture out of the way, Claude ducks out to bring even more linens and pillows, Edelgard helps situate their classmates, and when all is said and done, they have perhaps the biggest, saddest sleepover pile in all the world.

Veery shifts, curls up right in the middle of all of them, and purrs. Most of the others are asleep already, but if the three house leaders all curl up next to him, as close as they can be to his purring, then he won’t call them out on it. This is what he can do.

It’s not much, and it doesn’t help the one in the most need of help right now, but it’s what he can do.

Veery is the first to wake.

It’s not all that surprising. Everyone has a long night, Veery has more sleep than most, if only a little, and he’s also on a vastly different sleep schedule than everyone else, with significantly shorter blocks of sleep than their usual through-the-night strategy. He’s not used to sleeping for more than a few hours at a time without getting up to at least turn around and reposition himself.

And yet, when he wakes, there is light outside.

Veery carefully extracts himself from the pile of slumbering students, only rousing Claude and Edelgard when he stirs, and only because they are both sleeping lying against him. They both just smile sadly, sleepily, at him and allow him to pad silently through the crowd, carefully stepping over and around everyone, to the door.

There are two reasons why he needs to leave. A massive cuddle pile is great and all, but despite the emotional support of having his friends – and family – around him, he’s still worn out and on edge from being in such a massive crowd at the ball and this doesn’t help that at all. He needs some time alone to recharge and cooldown and process… everything.

But as much as he wants to take off and do nothing else, he has something else to do. Something very important that cannot wait any longer than it already has. Veery holds the shattered Crest Stone, still wrapped up in a handkerchief, tightly and makes a beeline for Linhardt’s room.

As he marches, he feels that coldness in his chest. The shame and guilt and anger that stops up his throat. What a fool he is, to be so reckless with the Crest Stones! What happened to his just paranoia? To his caution? What possesses him to think that he can leave something so precious in the hands of human researchers?

Not that… Veery doesn’t think that Linhardt or Professor Hanneman give the Crest Stone to that student – Monica? Veery honestly doesn’t think it’s done on purpose. He does believe that they are honest when they say that they won’t allow anyone but themselves to even know about the things.

But it gets out somehow, and Monica takes the Crest Stone somehow, or one of her allies does.

Veery knocks on Linhardt’s door, nearly breaking it in for all that he really cares about “knocking” right now. Linhardt’s muffled complaints come back to him, until Linhardt himself opens the door. Veery grabs his arm and starts dragging him away.

“Hey! What’s the problem?” Linhardt whines. “What’s so important? Did you really have to wake me up?”

“Yes,” Veery growls. Linhardt furrows his brow and silences his complaints, apparently picking up on Veery’s mood.

Veery stalks through the monastery, not releasing his hold on Linhardt, until he comes to Professor Hanneman’s door. Here, he doesn’t bother even to knock. He opens it and shoves Linhardt inside, and then slips in himself and, after checking that only Professor Hanneman is here otherwise, shuts the door behind him.

“Veery?” Professor Hanneman asks, surprised by the entrance. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Where are the hearts?” Veery asks, crossing his arms and lashing his tail.

“The hearts?” Linhardt asks. “Is that what this is about?”

Professor Hanneman frowns, furrowing his brow as he reaches under his desk to unlock a drawer with a key he produces from his pocket. “Why, of course, they’re right here in…” He trails off when he gets the drawer open, gaping dumbly at what’s inside.

Or what isn’t.

“Linhardt,” Professor Hanneman says, not looking away from the drawer, “you wouldn’t happen to have borrowed the dragon Crest Stone without informing me, have you?”

“What?” Linhardt’s eyes go wide. “Of course, not. I haven’t touched the dragon one in a week!”

Professor Hanneman grimly reaches down and lifts up a tray with the Crest Stones on it. Six small spheres rest there, in indents made especially for them, but the seventh and largest indent is empty.

Veery taps his foot impatiently. “I’m taking those back.”

“B-but…” Professor Hanneman stammers. “I swear, I have no idea what happened! They were all here just yesterday! No one but Linhardt and I even have access to this drawer!”

“I’m taking them back,” Veery says with finality.

Linhardt sighs. “We’ve lost one, so I suppose I understand. It’s a shame we’ll no longer be able to study them, but… how exactly did you know it was missing, anyway?”

Veery scowls and holds up the shattered Crest Stone pointedly. “Have you two heard about what happened last night, yet?”

Professor Hanneman grimaces. “Ah… yes. I must express my condolence-”

“Professor,” Veery snarls. “This isn’t about Captain Jeralt. What attacked last night?”

“Captain Jeralt? An attack?” Linhardt asks. “What did I sleep through?”

Veery sighs, shaking his head. “Last night, four demonic beasts attacked the monastery. They came from the unused chapel back by the ruins. I don’t know how many students are dead. Captain Jeralt and some knights held the beasts back there until those of us who were still awake could come and support him. We contained the attack, but… that girl that was rescued with Flayn, Monica?”

“Monica von Ochs?”

“Her. She stabbed Captain Jeralt in the back. He’s dead.”

“What?” Immediately, the color drains from Linhardt’s face. “Monica killed… and demonic beasts? Multiple, from the Crest Stone we lost?”

Veery again raises the wrapped stone in his hand and carefully uncovers it.

Both researchers gasp. “It’s been broken?” Professor Hanneman nearly shouts. “And it still created demonic beasts? We must-”

Veery violently yanks it away before Professor Hanneman’s outstretched fingers can touch the shards. “No one is touching this,” he says firmly. “I’m going to ask Mercedes to give it some funeral rites, and then we’re going to destroy it.”

“But… think about what we can learn! This might give us a clue as to our enemy’s plans!”

“This is someone’s heart!” Veery snaps. “And it’s been tortured and shattered!”

Linhardt sighs. “It’s not like the dragon is living inside of it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Veery huffs. At this point, he doesn’t care if this dragon’s soul is inside the heart or if it truly is just a lump of magical power. It’s broken and twisted and the best thing Veery can do for it now is put it out of its misery and eliminate any chance of it ever being used to create such horrible terrors again. “It’s been through enough. And you two have already had it stolen from you once.”

Professor Hanneman collapses back into his chair. “If I had only kept a better eye on it… dear goddess, would last night’s events have not happened?”

Linhardt makes a pained groaning sound, looking green all of a sudden. “You mean… Captain Jeralt and the students… it’s our fault?”

Veery sighs. “There’s going to be more than enough blame all around,” he says. The gods know he carries enough himself. After that premonition, whatever it was… “It happened. What are you going to do now?”

The others become pensive, and Veery shakes his head. He asks them, but… what is he going to do? There are still six Crest Stones, though small ones. That they’re still here mean that the Agarthans probably aren’t interested in them, most likely because they aren’t from dragons, but Veery already has confirmation that these can create those demonic beasts all the same. Weaker ones, but even so…

Can he protect them himself any better than Professor Hanneman can? Can he guarantee their safety?

The sad, honest answer is that he can’t.

[ddarker-dreams]

Pondering SR reader except w the “oh no theres only one bed in this hotel room ill take the floor” “youll hurt your back! Just sleep w me :3!” trope this fine afternoon

THIS IDEA IS TOO CUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE i might just need to do a full fic for one of the characters at some point. until now, here's some hcs:

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

Giorno

Giorno has something of a devious streak. He is a gentleman, yes, but there are some Brando genes hidden in there. So he may or may not have made the booking mistake on purpose so he could get closer to you. There’s no definitive proof, but the slight smile on his face as you enter the room to find a single bed almost gives him away. He would be the first to offer you the bed (papa Dio in hell yelling at him to seize this opportunity goes ignored), and apologize for the mistake. Knowing your friendly disposition, it doesn’t come as a surprise when you offhandedly offer to share the bed; though his face is dusted pink. The two of you could follow your night skincare routine together and exchange tips. He almost loses his cool when you compliment how he looks with his hair down.

Bruno

Bruno, who was carrying your luggage in, just sorta clears his throat upon entering the room. He’s mumbling something about going to speak to the clerk at the front desk, and you tell him it’s late; there’s no need to bother them. The two of you lived under the same roof for a while, what’s the harm in sharing a bed? Bruno is too exhausted from the ongoing job you’re on to offer a counterpoint. He does his best not to stare at you in your nightclothes, but it’s an uphill battle, as it compliments the curves of your body perfectly. Bruno keeps checking to make sure you’re really comfortable with the arrangements. After all, the last thing he’d ever want is to come off too strong. He keeps things professional to the best of his abilities. 

Fugo

Fugo may or may not have a breakdown. Tomorrow you have important work to do — how is he going to get a wink of sleep with his crush just a few inches away from him? Then there’s you, already changing into your pajamas, asking if he wants the left side of the bed or the right. He wonders if it’s a cultural difference that lends to your easygoing nature. Fugo decides to count his blessings, at least you’re going to be sleeping next to him, and not the others who practically drool in your presence. You’ll end up falling asleep ages before he does, his heart rate is going too fast for him to calm down. Sleep remains ever elusive. So he’ll turn on a dim nightlight as not to disturb you and read, failing to notice Purple Haze who managed to slip through the cracks. His Stand took it upon itself to guard you in your sleep. 

Mista

He does that nervous laughter thing. Mista has to be on his A game every second he’s around you, wooing you with his machismo and wit; now he has to keep calm all night? Starts contemplating what he should do when he hears you giggling, and looks over to see you having a pillow fight with the Pistols. They’ve stolen your attention from him yet again. The six of them are working together to lift a pillow, and by the time they manage to hit you with it, you’re beside yourself with laughter from the sight. Mista’s not going to let his Stand outdo him. He grabs a pillow, tells you in the coolest (aka dorkiest) voice that he’s not going to show you any mercy. The two of you end up falling asleep without incident from exhaustion later on. Mista’s arm is going to find its way around you at same point, a fact that will fluster him come morning. 

Narancia

Narancia doesn’t really consider the implications right away. He’s too busy feeling excited over being in a hotel room. Chances are it’s his first time, he wasn’t ever able to afford something this fancy. You’ll have to stop him from ordering one of everything from room service (Bucciarati’s credit card was spared another day). Narancia is going to sit criss cross on the bed with you, talking about anything and everything, maybe scooting closer when you’re not paying attention. The two of you prank call Fugo at Narancia’s behest. If it was Narancia calling at 1 am, Fugo wouldn’t have picked up the phone, but he saw your name pop up and answered after a few rings (gotta not look too desperate). Then felt immense disappointment to hear the two of you giggling together. It’s a fun night, made even better by the chance to be by your side. 

Abbacchio

Abbacchio almost goes back to sleep in the car, only for you to pull him back in the room. You tell him you won’t bite. While you go about your night routine, he’s making a bed for himself on the floor; no amount of begging will get him to sleep in the same bed as you. Abbacchio reminds you that he is a man, after all. You shrug and say his loss (did he just hear you right...?). Truth be told, he’s nervous, he can’t think of a time he’s ever been around you for this long. You’ll be the first to fall asleep. He berates himself for it, but he ends up staring at you as you sleep, his face softening. You have him wrapped around your finger without knowing it. Come morning, he’ll have breakfast from the hotel ready, making sure to get all your favorites. (If you ask how he knows your favorite breakfast foods, he’s just going to give a noncommittal grunt). 

[animeomegas]

let's imagine this: asra and his alpha are having THAT fight, although it's more like asra yelling all desperate and his alpha trying to calm him down so they can talk properly. asra is having none of that (even if his alpha it's not even mad or actually fighting, they just want asra to feel better) so his alpha just interrupts him while he's starting to panic and simply says:

"where do you want to go? i think it would be nice living in the middle of the forest, just the two of us. and if the plague continues for more than a couple of months, we could even open a shop in whatever place we'll live in"

asra is like what?? and the alpha just tells him something like "i want to help our city, but not if that is a reason to be away from you. you're my mate, the most important person in my life. i'm sure i can figure out a spell or something else that let's me help find a cure for the plague while being in some far away city instead with you, the both of us safe and most important: together"

i feel like asra would just start crying because he thought he was going to lose his alpha, that they would choose to stay instead of understanding that he doesn't feel safe in the city anymore and even if someone else could think that he's selfish, it really makes sense to just want his mate safe, you know?

and then they just cuddle (WITH FAUST TOO !!!) while talking about what kind of place they want to live in while the plague still exists. i'm soft :(

¡¡ I JUST HATE THAT IN THE GAME, MC DIDN'T GO WITH ASRA LIKE ?!?!? THEY COULD HAVE USED THAT WATER SPELL TO HELP FIND A CURE WITHOUT BEING THERE PHYSICALLY !!!

(Omg I totally agree! I would have been out of that city the second that plague reared it's head. I simply do not have loyalty to places and I would be gone lmao 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️💨 Also, my prompt for Asra for Kinktober is emotional sex, which you sent in of course 😉, and I think I might use this post as the backstory for it... @bymoanne)

Okay, so Asra has been watching the plague develop like a hawk, and he's decided that they have to leave. They have to. Otherwise his alpha will die, and Asra knows he won't be far behind. Things are going from bad to worse, and Asra knows they have to leave now before the city gets quarantined.

But then his alpha says the worst six words he's ever heard.

"I want to stay and help."

And Asra breaks down into hysterics completely, shouting and pleading and bargaining and saying anything and everything he can think of to convince them. He's furious at them for doing this to him. For putting him in this position where he can't protect his mate. But he's also not surprised. This is so like them, to want to help everyone, and normally it's one of his favourite things about his alpha, but right now he can't stand it.

And Asra's alpha is just staring at him, completely blindsided by his breakdown, vaguely aware of Faust slithering up to rest on their shoulders. He'd been quick to leave Asra when his shouting started.

They had no idea he was feeling so unsafe, feeling so desperate to leave. They do want to stay and help but not if this is what that decision does to Asra. He'll never leave them, they know that, and they couldn't bare to watch him breakdown like this if they decided to stay.

They try and get him to calm down, but he won't let them speak. He feels like he's going to die, like they both are going to die, if he can't convince them right now that they need to leave.

...

"Where do you want to go?" they interrupt him, speaking loud enough to be heard over Asra's panicked pleading. His voice dies down as the words register.

"What?" he asks, dazed.

"I don't know if I ever mentioned it, but my family had a cabin in the woods about thirty miles from here... It hasn't been used in years, but it was pretty hidden and secure, so it should still be there. From what I can remember, we left the kitchen stocked with plates and cutlery, and the linen cupboard stocked with blankets and sheets. I can't promise that the roof won't leak and that the blankets aren't musty and need washing but, if you want to go there we could fix it up a little?" they offer.

Asra blinks a few times, before his bottom lip starts to quiver.

"Really?"

"Of course! We can pack up as much of our stuff as we can, we'll have to hunt and grow a lot of our food there, but we can bring as many cans of food as we can to supplement. There's a river for fish and everything! I think you'll like it, but it will take us about six hours to get there at least, probably closer to eight with all our stuff- Woah!"

Asra interrupts them by throwing himself into their arms. He can't even begin to stop the tears that fall freely from his eyes. He's so relieved he can barely breathe.

"Thank you, thank you," he sobs into their shoulder. He claws at his alpha's shoulders, desperately trying to pull his alpha closer.

"Shh," they hush, holding him securely. "I do want to stay and help, but not if that makes you feel like this. We're a team. I will never make you stay in a place where you don't feel safe."

"A team," Asra repeats in a whispered voice. Faust gently begins to transfer back to Asra, now that the shouting has stopped.

"A team," they place a kiss on his head. "We'll leave at first light tomorrow, it's too late today. The cabin is hard enough to find in the daylight and I haven't been there in years, the night is too risky. It will give us some time to pack though."

Asra sighs, nuzzling in to his alpha's neck, exhausted. All the adrenaline is starting to crash and now he just feels tired, but also so, so grateful.

"I love you," Asra says, trying to push as much emotion as he can into those words.

"I love you, too," they reply, sliding a hand up to nestle in his hair. "Why don't you take a nap while I make a packing list?"

...

Asra's alpha sits on one of their sofa's, Asra's head cushioned in their lap as he sleeps, and they write a packing list.

They leave just before dawn, with as much stuff as they can carry between them, dragging a small cart behind them to help. They all (Asra, his alpha and Faust) exit the city without touching anything or talking to anyone. They walk in silence, focused on just leaving as fast as possible without a fuss and without catching anything.

It takes a whole day of walking to arrive at the little derelict cabin, but the second they do, Asra feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

There are cobwebs everywhere, the roof is questionable, and the whole place is covered in dust. But it's workable, especially with magic. They have a food source, a water source, blankets and a bed, a semi functional kitchen... and crucially, they're far away from any town or city.

It's perfect.

[I really want to build the little derelict cabin in the sims 😆 Maybe I will haha]

[silverynight]

Dead end

Tanjirou has come to the conclusion that running away towards the big city was a mistake. He's never seen so many people before; it's overwhelming. Nezuko is grabbing his hand hard, almost painfully, although Tanjirou has learned to endure pain in the two years that he stayed with Urokodaki.

Nezuko pulls, managing to draw his attention away from the bakery and back to her. Almost desperately, she makes a few gestures with her hands, pointing in the direction of the mountain.

He sighs, feeling sad inside; he'd like to hear her voice again, but she has refused to speak a word since their family was killed. He's never pressed her though.

"You know we can't go back," Tanjirou mumbles, feeling bad for causing her sorrow. "I miss him too, but you know they're looking for us so he'll probably be safer alone."

Sighing, Nezuko nods, hugs his brother and keeps walking next to him, trying not to collide with the people around and holding his hand.

She's not the only one wishing they could go back, he's constantly thinking about it. Once he thought they could be happy there, in that small village with Urokodaki, but for some reason the people that killed their family also wanted to kill them both.

Tanjirou doesn't understand; Urokodaki said the man behind it was the leader of a crime syndicate and that his name was Muzan. There were two crime groups in Japan; the one led by Kibutsuji and the other by nine people who were called the hashira.

"The Pillars are skilled swordsmen; you'll never find people more capable than them in combat," Urokodaki explained one night. "But they're also dangerous in their own ways."

Urokodaki taught him how to fight with a katana during those two years; he insisted it was necessary in case Kibutsuji came back for him (and he was right).

However, since the katana was Urokodaki's Tanjirou left it behind, instead he brought an axe and hoped for the best.

Nezuko stops; she's blinking, trying to stay awake. They're both tired and hungry and even though Tanjirou would love to get something to eat, he needs to find a place where they both can spend the night first.

Tomorrow he needs to get a job.

His money is not enough to pay for a night in the first place they find. Tanjirou offers himself for any kind of job, but the owner claims he doesn't need more employees at the moment.

"I know a place where you can get money though," he grins, looking over his shoulder. "If you're willing to let your girl work."

Confused, he looks up at the man, who steps into the light to look closely at him.

"I also know a place for pretty boys like you," he adds, taking Tanjirou's chin. "Someone like you can get more than a few coins for spending a night with–"

Moving away from the man, as Tanjirou starts to blush, he runs away from there as quickly as possible.

"I think this was a mistake," he tells Nezuko.

He definitely doesn't like the city.

The second place they arrive to is even worse, not because of how it looks, but due to what they find out when they get there.

"I'm not sure," the woman mumbles, eyeing at them both. "I haven't seen you around here before. The hashira have strict rules when it comes to people from outside the city."

"The hashira?" Tanjirou shivers, feeling suddenly exposed; he looks around, nervous.

"This city belongs to them."

They need to go back immediately. Grabbing Nezuko's hand, he begins to run in the opposite direction, however in his desperation he ends up in a dark alley with a dead end.

"Alright. We just need to turn around," he mumbles, feeling nervous.

"The boy with the hanafuda earrings!" A voice says, amusement ringing in it. "Finally! My Lord Kibutsuji will be happy when I bring your head to him!"

There's a boy with her as well. He's carrying a couple of daggers while she's bouncing two temari in her hands.

"They're coming after me," he mumbles, almost in relief. "Listen, Nezuko, I want you to hide and wait for the perfect opportunity to run away. I'll try to distract them."

Nezuko narrows her eyes, she's fuming, angry at the thought of leaving him behind. She gestures something about never leaving him.

Even though he appreciates it, Tanjirou would've preferred her to choose running away.

However, there's no time to argue. He turns around with the axe in his hand, but a temari passes right over his shoulder. At first Tanjirou believes the girl missed, but when he hears Nezuko's scream and sees her fall to the ground he almost runs towards her.

He can't, there's no time. He charges at the girl quickly, dodging a temari as he runs, only to realize that the boy plans to stab Nezuko even though she's unconscious on the ground.

Without thinking twice, he throws the axe and cuts the boy's arm off; Tanjirou doesn't really like hurting others, but if Nezuko's life is in danger, he knows he'll do anything to keep her safe.

Even though the boy is bleeding because of the wound, he still tries to attack Tanjirou again.

The girl cackles in such a way before running towards his fallen sister at the same time the other tries to reach him, Tanjirou knows he will only have the time to block her attack.

But then, from the roof of the house next to the alley a shadow jumps in front of the Kamado siblings. The young man doesn't say a word as he moves his katana with such ability that it makes impossible for Tanjirou to follow the attack. In the blink of an eye he cuts their heads without even uttering a word.

They both fall to the ground, making Tanjirou gasp and think how glad he is that Nezuko is unconscious at the moment. Quickly, he gets closer and doesn't think too much before taking her in his arms. He wonders if he could run past the swordsman and back into the noisy streets.

However, the young man turns around and looks back at him. Tanjirou curls over Nezuko, trying to protect her with his own body.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or your sister, Tanjirou," he says, surprising him. The young man has black, long hair and blue eyes that don't let any emotion to be reflected in them. Well, perhaps... irritation. They're shadowed with it at the moment. "You should've stayed with Urokodaki."

"How do you know that? How do you know my name?" Tanjirou asks, flinching away when he sees the man with the mismatched haori moving his katana quickly to clean it up. When it's back into its saya, he allows himself to relax... just a little.

"I'm Tomioka Giyuu," he introduces himself, moving even closer. "I'm the one who saved you that day."

No... That's not possible. Well, Tanjirou only remembers falling on the snow from exhaustion, looking for a place where someone could patch her sister up and then... nothing.

He woke up in Urokodaki's house the next day. He just assumed...

"Come with me."

Before he can say anything, two people arrive to the scene; Tanjirou imagines them screaming and calling the police, but instead of even glancing in the corpses' direction, they bow in front of Tomioka respectfully.

"Clean the area," he mumbles and both man and woman nod, before using bandages to cover the corpses completely.

Tomioka is... He must be...

"I'm afraid you and your girl got in trouble in the wrong city, sweet boy," a young woman with a haori that reminds him of butterfly wings chuckles. Tanjirou notices that she's also carrying a sword, although it looks like a small one. "You're in hashira territory now. And you brought Kibutsuji's assassins here. Now you must face all the Pillars."

"Please... I just need to get my sister to a doctor. I promise we'll go after that and you'll never see us again."

"It's too late now," she grins gently at him at the same time Tomioka walks in the middle of them. "Oh? You've broken a few rules already, Giyuu. Do you want to break more?"

"Shinobu, he's... I'm sure they won't cause us any more trouble if we let them–"

"He needs to be judged by all the hashira, Tomioka," another young swordsman appears out of nowhere, he has a white snake around his neck; his mouth is covered.

Tomioka nods, knowing they don't have a choice now, but he gets closer to Tanjirou as if trying to shield him from the other two.

"Come," he says, as kindly as possible.

"But Nezuko is bleeding..."

"Don't worry," Shinobu smiles, clapping her hands together. "I'll take care of that."

Two people arrive and pry Nezuko away from Tanjirou. He tries to fight them, but Tomioka puts a strong hand over his shoulder to stop him.

"She'll be fine," he assures him.

However, Tanjirou knows that he's completely trapped now; if they have Nezuko he won't have other choice but to do as they say.

***

The house they walk in is huge. Tanjirou ends up sitting on the floor in a room with dim light and a table in the middle. Tomioka and Shinobu get in the room right next to it.

They don't even tell him to stay; they must know he would never leave without his sister.

He's worried, however, he doesn't get scared until he catches a few sentences of the conversation.

"See? Giyuu is putting his life at risk for them."

"That doesn't mean anything, Tengen! They mean trouble if Kibutsuji is after them."

"We're not afraid of him, Sanemi."

"No, we're not, but we also don't interfere in other people's problems."

"Besides, why do we do with Tomioka? He hid them from us all this time."

"Obanai has a point!"

"I saw the girl! She's so pretty! Is her the one you're doing this for, Giyuu? That's so romantic!"

"It's the boy, Mitsuri," Shinobu is the only voice Tanjirou recognizes because Tomioka hasn't said anything yet. Still, nothing they've been saying makes any sense to him. The only thing he's sure about is that he's in trouble. "He's doing this for Tanjirou."

"Now I'm curious, Kocho."

"Let's see him then!"

The door slides open and Tanjirou doesn't have time to react when nine people walk inside. All of them are carrying katanas.

He looks down, but a huge hand grabs him by the chin to make him look up at them.

"Hey! Be careful!"

"Calm down, Giyuu. You know me, I'd never hurt such a pretty thing like this one," the one speaking has white hair tied up in a ponytail and what it looks like a headband with a couple of gemstones all over it. His eyes are deep pink. He's one of the tallest among them.

"Come on, stand up, my boy. Let us see you!" Another says, putting both arms over his shoulders, lifting him like he weighed nothing to help him stand. His voice is loud, although the thing that surprises him the most about him is his hair and eyes. They're like fire: yellow and red. It's really difficult for Tanjirou to look away from him. "I'm Rengoku Kyojuro!"

"Kamado Tanjirou," he mumbles, after a couple of them introduce themselves.

"I want to keep him," Tokito says after a while. Uzui looks back at him with amusement.

"He's my responsibility now."

"I'm sorry, Giyuu, but you know the rules here. You too, Muichiro," Rengoku grins, cupping Tanjirou's face in his hands. Even though he knows he's in front of one of the leaders of a crime syndicate, he feels safe for a couple of seconds. "If we keep him, he's going to be under everyone's protection."

"What about Nezuko? Is she going to be alright? Will you protect her as well?"

Rengoku nods, stroking Tanjirou's hair. Right next to him, Tomioka's shoulders tense.

"Of course, but you owe us now, Tanjirou."

That's all it takes to remind himself that he's in front of dangerous people.

"I understand, I'll do my best to–"

"I can pay off his debt," Tomioka offers, surprising Tanjirou again.

"You know we don't want money, Giyuu," Shinobu says, waving her hand dismissively.

"And we want nothing from you," Tokito adds, almost bored.

"What do you want?" Tanjirou asks, nervous, even though he notices that a few of them are looking down at him with a fond expression.

Without giving him any warning, Uzui takes him in his arms, prompting Tanjirou to wrap his arms and legs around him out of instinct.

"We want to welcome you to our family," the hashira grins, confusing him.

It's hard to see them as dangerous criminals when they act like that.

"I'll introduce you to my wives..."

"Wait! I want to see Nezuko."

"Of course, my boy!" Rengoku nods, taking him away from Uzui who pouts immediately. Tomioka looks irritated, but he follows them close anyway.

She's not awake yet, but she looks much better now. She has a bandage all around her forehead and new clothes. Two girls are right there taking care of her, as soon as they see the hashira though, they start bowing nervously.

Rengoku puts Tanjirou on the bed and the boy leans to take one if Nezuko's hand in his. Tomioka kneels next to him.

"You'll be safe here, Tanjirou. I'll protect you."

He nods, feeling better despite of knowing his mother would never have approved of something like that. But what other choice does he have? If being with the hashira means Nezuko can be safe, then he'll accept it.

"You selfish, stubborn bastard! Didn't you hear, Giyuu?" Shinazugawa huffs. "We will protect the siblings from now own. Tanjirou owes us now. He's ours."

"I thought you were against this arrangement, Sanemi," Uzui chuckles, prompting the other to growl at him.

"I'm a Pillar. If the majority has decided that he's worth the risk, then he is worth it."

Even though he doesn't like when they don't mention Nezuko, part of him is glad that they consider the debt is only Tanjirou's to pay.

That way she can be free as soon as Kibutsuji stops hunting them or dies.

"No one will hurt you again," Rengoku promises, leaning enough for their foreheads to touch. His eyes are intense. "They're too afraid of us to even try."

Tanjirou is not sure, but something tells him that Muzan is not going to give up that easy.

***

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[yutahoes]

This Moment

a little self-indulgent fic because I’m so fucking tired and exhausted with everything

Inspired by three of my favorite songs from the Sticker Album.  character: boyfriend! Yuta Nakamoto x gender neutral! Reader word count: 1.3k words genre: fluff summary: You have a terrible week. 

You threw your bag on the couch before slumping your body on the same object. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth as you stared at the ceiling. It’s a tiring week. You’re lucky that you don’t have any work tomorrow or two things might happen: you’ll die of exhaustion or you might kill someone of frustration.    

You wanted to shout. To cry your weariness out. But tears cannot come out of your eyes. 

A small ringing can be heard and you hastily picked up the phone, answering it with an annoyed ‘hello’. “Y/N?” You knew that voice very well. Why does he have to call now? “Are you alright?” 

And it was the go signal you need. Tears fell from your eyes, your breath sounding labored as you tried to stop yourself from making a sound that might alarm the other person on the other line. “Are you crying?” But he knew you more than you know yourself. 

“Yuta…” you called for his name before finally choking on your tears. “I don’t want to work anymore.” You whined before taking a huge breath. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

“Wait, I’ll be there,” he claimed, panic can be heard in his voice. “Wear something warm and comfortable then meet me outside in thirty minutes.” You nodded although he cannot see you. Yuta calmed you down before hanging up the phone. 

You sat there, looking at the ceiling before deciding to adhere to Yuta’s request. 

It was a bit cold when you went out of your apartment building although you’re wearing your jacket. Yuta was there, leaning on his car with his hands inside his pocket. The moment he saw you, a smile appeared on his lips while reaching his arms out. You ran to him, wrapping your arms to hug him. The rest you wanted after a long week of work. 

His right hand was on the back of your head, the other resting on your back as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go on a drive.” You stared at him in confusion but he only smiled at you. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Somewhere.” 

He opened the passenger seat for you. Even placing his hand on the edge of the door to prevent your head from bumping on it. You were about to pull the seatbelt when he leaned in and did it for you. A small smile escaped your lips, claiming that you can do it but he just kissed your nose. You watched as he walked to the driver’s side of the car, started the engine after putting on the seatbelt and clicking on the music on his music player.  

A wide grin can be seen on your face when the familiar tune can be heard. “I thought you’re sick of this song.” You teased but he just grinned, driving with one hand and holding yours on the other. 

You hummed along the music, watching the city lights on the car window. Your mind drifting to the happening these past few weeks. The tears threaten to fall again but you don’t want to bother Yuta so you just looked up to at least stop them. A vain attempt, you knew. Yuta’s hand held your tightly. “Do you want to tell me what happen?” he asked, lightly checking on you before returning his gaze to the road. 

It was stupid. Your reason is stupid. But Yuta listened attentively to everything you said. How you hated the bosses for putting pressure on you when they cannot even do their job in taking care of you. How your co-workers would often give you the heavy tasks just because you’re younger and, as how they put it, more capable. How the job is just so taxing that you can’t even take your breaks without thinking about the extra job given to you. 

In your mind, you sounded like a whiny brat. You’re lucky to have a job. Lucky that although the pay isn’t huge, it brings food to your table and a roof above your head. You hated yourself for complaining but you’re just so fed up with your co-workers and the tasks assigned to you. If someone were to listen to you, they would judge you real hard. But not Yuta. 

He just hummed whenever you stopped your rants as if assuring you that he’s listening. He would make little remarks about how unfair the job is or how you’re not taking care of yourself. He kept on apologizing for the treatment your co-workers gave you while still holding your hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand to comfort you. 

Once you calmed down from all the crying and complaining, he gave you a timid smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I hope there’s something I can do.” 

You shook your head. You’re thankful that he’s here. “Listening to me makes me better already. Thank you, Yuta.”

“I promise to be here all the time and listen to anything you wanted to tell me.” He kissed the back of your hand as you thanked him, smiling. Who would have known that this little drive would make you feel better? 

Instead of coming back, the car stopped on a forest path that startled you. Where are you two going? “You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” he asked and you nodded before he went out of the car. What is this? He opened the door for you before he opened the trunk of the car. “Let’s stay the night here.” 

He carried two huge bags. “Is that a tent?” You asked and he nodded, slinging both on his shoulder. “Do you want me to carry something?” 

Yuta shook his head then reached out a hand to you. “Just hold my hand.” You smiled before holding his hand with your two hands. He told you to be careful on your steps, excitement etched on his face that it seemed contagious now. A gasp escaped your lips when he brought you to a lakeside surrounded by trees. The light of the stars and the bright moon illuminated on the water, looking as if they’re gems sparkling in front of you. 

You took pictures from your phone, even smiling widely at the colorful flowers surrounding the place. “This is really pretty.” You exclaimed in awe, making the guy laugh. When you turned to him, the tent is already set up and he was just putting some blankets inside. “Wow, I never thought you can set this up quickly.” 

Yuta laughed before opening the tent wide for you, gesturing you to come in. It was honestly so amusing. “Lay down,” he ordered, bunching up some blankets to be your make-shift pillow. The stars can be seen from the sheer cover of the tent and you only felt Yuta lying beside you. “Luckily, it’s not going to rain.” he whispered. 

This is so calming. When Yuta invited you for a drive, you knew he’ll definitely make you better but this is just beyond that. This little trip healed you. Yuta healed you.

When you were young, the adults would often tell you that it takes only one moment to know if you’re in love with a person. A moment you knew you’ll want to stay with that person forever.  

You turned your head to look at the guy beside you. Yuta was smiling, head lying on his arm as his body was turned to you. A smile can be seen on his face as his eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. This was that moment, you thought. “Yuta, thank you.” 

“I’m sorry it’s nothing much.” 

But you shook your head. “It’s everything.” 

He smiled then called your name in a whisper, leaning close. You felt his arm wrap you in a warm hug, your head leaning on his chest. “Let’s do this again in the future.” You nodded. This is definitely that moment. You wanted to spend your forever with Yuta. 

At this moment, you were sure of one thing. Your heart wouldn’t be tired anymore. As long as Yuta is by your side. 

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Moving day

Based on @lucywrites02's writing challenge, with the prompts "1. You're family" and "8. I have a surprise for you". I wish you a very happy birthday, Lucy!

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (Tony Stark's daughter, not Morgan)

Word count: 3.2 K

Warnings: fluff and pregnancy :) This was very adorable to write.

Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87,@jesuswasnotawhiteman, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7, @toe-vind-ek-jou, @t00-pi, @selfship-mishaps, @sallymagnoliaposts, @deadgirl88, @enderslove

Gif: @moonrainbow

It had surprised Thor greatly how quickly and intensely his brother had fallen for you. He was as committed and truthful as he has never been in his long, long life. He looked at you softly, in comparison with everyone else. As soon as you walked in a room, he followed you with his gaze and invited you to his conversation. It wasn’t a surprise that after a few months of this very silent flirting (that very few noticed, because it mainly consisted in batting eyelashes and repressing subtle smiles when the other was around) you’d come out of the shell and admit you started dating. Thor was ecstatic.

Tony, on the other hand, was not amused. Not amused at all; in fact, he hated the idea of you going around with that God. He said, explicitly “if you ever get in trouble because of him, you solve it yourself. Nothing of coming for daddy to help, clear?”. Pepper had told him to cut some slack, and observe at how happy you were together, but he, stubborn to the bone, had to take a few months more before accepting the fact that his little girl was in love with the God of Mischief.

But the months passed by; almost a year, and you grew closer and closer. You hated to sneak into his room every night, and get interrupted all the time by every single soul in the compound, or mocked to death every time you cuddled on the sofa, watched a movie or read a book together. So, it all boiled down to the same conversation:

“I don’t think he’s ready”, you said while pouring some milk on your cereal. Nat rolled her eyes.

“He’s even readier than you”, insisted Wanda. They were exhausted from having the same conversation over and over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do something about it. “He’s lived much longer, if any of you two were to be unready, that’d be you”.

“Do you think I’m not ready?”, you doubted yourself.

“God, Wanda. You’re planting unnecessary seeds here. The girl’s already anxious enough”.

“I just think… I want him to be with me for the rest of my life. I don’t know if he feels the same”.

“He totally does”.

“Yeah. No doubt about that. Just look at how he looks at you. What are you even waiting for?”.

“I don’t know, a signal?”.

“Of what? You’re impossible. Unless God themself comes down the sky and tells you textually just move in with him, you wouldn’t consider it a ‘signal’”, bitched Nat. But she was right. Commitment was not exactly your thing, even though you were as in love as you could be.

You heard an oncoming scream approaching the room. In silence, you three observed cautiously, and moved away from the middle. The screaming increased its loudness, until a body shattered the roof and fell to the floor violently. Loki laid still among the dusted debris until a second screaming started sounding from the sky.

“Oh, fuck”, he said, managing to get up quickly and making himself as a shield for you three. Thor landed on his feet over the same spot Loki had fallen. Dust flew everywhere and the floor cracked a bit more. “Don’t”, he alerted, pointing at his brother menacingly.

“I’m tired of your whinings, brother. Do something or I’ll do it myself”, spat Thor, grabbing Mjölnir and leaving the room. Loki sighed and sat on the couch, cleaning the remains with his magic. Wanda sighed and put it all back together.

“And what was that about?”, asked Nat, eating a candybar, still on the same spot as earlier. It wasn’t an unusual scene.

“I…”, said Loki, but desisted. You sat on the couch by his side and he laid, using your lap as a pillow. You took out a tissue and started carefully cleaning the blood off his cuts. He smiled softly. “We just had a fight”.

“I can see that. What did you fight about?”.

“He wants me to… well, talk to you”, he struggled to say.

“Well, we’re talking now”.

“Yes. No, wait, no. Like, talk talk”, he clarified, and Nat and Wanda nodded, leaving the room. You could still hear their chattery from the door.

Loki sat up and grabbed both of your hands, making direct eye contact. He was nervous, which only made you even more unsettled. He was never nervous. He was always calm, even in life or death situations. He was unfazed in everything and with almost everyone. Almost.

“What do you want to talk talk about?”, you joked, and he chuckled, releasing some tension.

“I want you to move in with me”.

“Oh. Wait. What?”.

“Like, move out. But with me”.

“To your room?”.

“Out of the Compound”.

“To an apartment?”.

“Yes”.

“Here?”.

“In Midgard, yes”.

“But like, in New York?”.

“Wherever you want, actually”.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, and Loki grew nervous again. You couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at you quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… a God just fell down the sky and told me to move in with you”, you clarified, which didn’t actually clarify anything.

“You… what?”.

“Yes, I’d love to move in with you, love”.

And in no time you were already packing things up and going together on apartment huntings.

Tony insisted on helping you out himself, which was hilarious, given the repulsion he had for the idea in the first place. So, you’d go to an apartment by yourself, check it out and talk to the owner for a bit; Loki would arrive later, tensing things up (the owners would usually recognize him, but after a little chat they’d find out he’s a fine man), and then, just after you’d be all calm and good, the owners would see in the papers you’re a Stark, and tense up even more. Easier to say, it wasn’t a normal neighborhood chat.

You had finally decided on a small but very cozy apartment near Central Park; far enough from the Stark Tower, but you could get there pretty quickly for every mission.

You found the place advertised on the papers, and when you showed it to Loki, in sickness and all, you insisted on going to visit it that same day.

“My love, my dearest… you need to rest. I’m afraid you might faint again”, he cooed, trying to get you back to bed.

“A little fever won’t do anything to me, really, I’m f…”, you said, but you felt like vomiting, so you stopped your words and sat on the floor. Loki sat by your side and rubbed your back.

“If you feel better tomorrow, we go, yes? Now, come on, I’m gonna call Banner and you wait on your bed”.

“No, but they might take it, we need to go to make sure…”.

“What about I go, call you on one of those animated images, and you can see it from here?”, he proposed, helping you up. He meant a video call.

“That… sounds about right”.

But you had no actual time to have that video call, for when he was in the apartment, Banner was delivering some more important news.

You’ve been to the examination’s room of the compound before. But this time it seemed brighter. The lights shone so strongly, you had to close your eyes a little.

“What would you like to do about it?”, asked Banner. You were sobbing and trembling.

“I… I don’t know, I’m sure Loki will leave me”.

“What? No, don’t base your decision on that guy’s opinion”.

“Well, I don’t want the kid to not have a father, you know?”, you said as he gave you a tissue. “I want to have it, I’ve always wanted a kid. I think I’m… ready? I’m probably not. Not by myself, and I can’t do this alone. He’ll leave me, won’t he? Why would he want to have a kid with a mortal? We’d die as fast as he blinks”.

“Look, I’m no one to talk about it, but this sounds more like your anxiety and less like something he would do. He really loves you, he has for like at least a year, and I don’t see that going away anytime soon”.

“I know. You might be right”.

“You’re allowed to doubt everything. This is a huge thing, y/n. Think this through, talk to people, talk to your friends, or your parents. Don’t let this eat you”.

“Thanks, Bruce. You’re really… you’re being really nice, I appreciate it”, you sobbed. He handed you another tissue as he rubbed your shoulder.

“This is your call, okay? You have time to think. Text me later how you’re feeling, and have bed rest now. And if you feel too bad, take this”, he handed you some pills, “it should be innocuous for the baby”.

One of those days, that same week, you had decided to make it the official moving day. So, you put every box in the van and drove through the city, to your new home. You haven’t told Loki yet what you knew, and you were terrified he’d get even more upset because you didn’t tell him before the moving. But, to be fair, you didn’t think he’d actually leave.

You had told no one about it, despite Banner’s indications. But it wasn’t eating you. You were enjoying it silently. You were glad; you had your doubts, fears… Hell, you were terrified. But you knew, if Loki wasn’t going to be a part of that, you could do it yourself. You hoped he’d wanted to, though.

Loki and you had started taking the boxes inside, all by hand (to be honest, he was a little scared of the neighbours watching him do things with magic and kicking you two out). You laughed through it, and played races to see who’d finish their boxes first. He was wearing one of those midgardians shirts and pants that melted you completely. He wore that for your anniversary dinner the week before that day, and he noticed how much you loved it on him, so he started wearing fancy casual clothes more often than not.

After about two hours, you were done and completely exhausted. You laid in the middle of the wooden floor, surrounded by boxes and a strong smell of floorwax and fresh paint, and looked at each other fondly.

“Welcome home”, you said, and he showed you the biggest smile he’s ever done.

“I think this place is perfect. It’s away, but not exactly far from your family for whenever you’d want to be with them”.

“Yes, it’s perfect”, you said, getting up and helping him up. “You know, I have a surprise for you”.

“Really? What is it?”.

“Tonight at dinner, shall we? In the meantime, what about we get something to drink before unpacking?”.

“Can’t wait for tonight, then. Would you like some tea?”, he said, surrounding your waist with his arms. You played gently with his hair.

“Yes”.

“I love you”, he said, giving you a small peck over your smile.

“And I love…”, you started saying, but the entrance got filled with noisy people, interrupting you. Four of your friends were already filling the place, giving you an idea of how a small party would fit in there. “... you”.

“Oh my God! This place is so well illuminated!”, said Wanda, marveled.

“And what’s that smell? Have you been cooking something weird?”, said Nat, less enthusiastic, but equally curious. Sam and Bucky were still on the door, and Sam seemed to have brought food. Like a cake, or something similar. Wanda and Natasha were quick to invade the place without further notice.

“Oh, you got one of those hidden drawers! What are you hiding in there?”.

“Probably sex toys”, guessed Nat.

“I’d say drugs. But, like, alien drugs. You know, from his town”, apported Bucky, now making his way in and leaving the cake over the counter.

“I thought drawers were supposed to be for clothes”, said Sam, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, but hidden drawers? Sexy clothes”.

“Actually, I’m saving my daggers in there”, finally said Loki, kissing your cheek before pulling away from you, and appearing a cup of tea in each guest with a movement of his wrist.

“Boring”.

“So, guys, what do you think?”, you said as you started opening one of the boxes.

“I think it’s small”, said Tony, as he walked in. Pepper rolled her eyes behind him.

“Don’t listen to him, you guys chose perfectly. This place will look very nice once you paint it and decorate it”.

“It’s already painted”.

“Oh. Well, it… it looks nice”.

“Thanks mom”, you chuckled. “It’s small but we don’t need it to be big”.

“You better be actually saving daggers in here”, Tony peeped inside the hidden drawer. “Now that is not so hidden. I wouldn’t like to open it up someday and find a…”.

“Dad, please”, you rolled your eyes and went to Loki’s side. “Don’t worry, you won’t find anything weird. Just the daggers and knives of my very innocent boyfriend”.

“Well, you’ll have to think further about having knives so close to the floor, you know”, he muttered. Loki furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why?”.

Tony ignored him and walked to you earnestly, with the most serious face expression you’ve ever seen, and everyone observed quietly. He grabbed you by the shoulders, and inhaled a deep breath. All of the sudden, his eyes got watery, and you realized Banner had told him about the pregnancy. Your heart beat so fast you thought you’d faint again, right there. The corners of his lips formed a tiny smile, and he hugged you tightly. Loki was certainly confused now. As far as he knew, Tony didn’t like him, and why would he be so happy about you moving out? It’s not like you were his only child, either.

“I’m so proud of you”, he whispered, and then Loki had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the new apartment, but didn’t ask any further.

That night you managed to cook something special, even though you still hadn’t gotten the gas installed. You cooked together, and laughed at every minor inconvenience the house could give you. The doors of the countertop cabinets were the perfect height for Loki’s 6’4” ass to stump his head every time he tried to open it.

After some time of silent cooking, absorbed on each’s thoughts, Loki asked about your dad’s pride.

“Oh, he’s… well, he just, gets very emotional with these things”. He chuckled at your very obvious lie.

“No, he doesn’t. Certainly not with me”.

“Come on, he likes you now. He likes anyone I love, because you make me happy, and because he has no other choice”.

“Well… I thought he’d be less amused”, he admitted. “Hasn’t he? Other choice, I mean”.

“I don’t think so. He’d have to deal. Family is family”.

“Oh, do I know about that”, he said, cutting a carrot more strongly than before. You laughed.

“I meant it in a good way”.

“Well, your family is one thing, mine is another… I can’t push yours to like me, as much as I would like to. They’re very nice, and I wish I had a family like that, but I don’t”.

“Love, family is built”, you said, this time a little more serious. He repressed a smile, still looking at the vegetables. “You’re part of this, too, you know?”.

“Of this?”.

“You’re family”.

He didn’t repress the smile this time.

“You’re right. You’re my family, too, my love”.

“You…”, you took a deep breath. It was the perfect moment. “Do you ever imagine us in the future?”.

“Why yes, of course”.

“Really?”.

“I want to spend all your life with you. I didn’t want to rush into things because… I don’t know, scaring you out of anything, but I…”, he said, and the alarm on your phone went off, to take the rice from the fridge. You two laughed at how mundane this conversation seemed. “But I love you, and I want you by my side”.

“Okay. Well I do too. That’s good, right? That’s good”.

“Yes, of course it’s good, why so doubtful?”, he laughed, grabbing a tomato and stabbing it.

“Because I’m pregnant”.

“Yeah”, he chuckled, without actually realizing what you just said. And then, he fell. “Hold on, what did you just say?”.

“I’m… I’m having a baby. Yours, of course”, you clarified. You felt like you had to, but it wasn’t actually necessary. Silence filled the kitchen.

“Oh dear” he paused. He left the knife over the counter and looked at you, looking for any trace of a joke. You weren’t joking, and you grew nervous as he let time pass by without saying a word. “How could you not tell me this before moving in?”, he muttered, still in a bit of a shock.

“Oh. Well… I…”.

“I wouldn’t have let you carry those heavy boxes, love, I’m so sorry”, he said, and cupped your cheeks. “Are you really…?”. You sighed in relief. For a moment you thought of the worse.

“Yes, I am”.

His arms embraced you completely, hugging you as tight as he allowed himself to. He muttered how much he loved you, and how happy you had just made him, for the rest of his life.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, he cuddled you from behind with his hands on your tummy and his lips on your bare shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing grazing your skin, and his warmth keeping you safe.

“Loki”, you whispered, checking if he was still awake. You couldn’t sleep.

“Yes, love?”, he whispered back.

“Are you sure you want to be a daddy? With me?”.

He turned you around, and lowered his head to your abdomen. He sank his face and kissed all around your stomach and hips, leaving a trace of kisses up to your neck, and then your lips.

“How could I not?”, he whispered in a low voice. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, teased “besides, the word daddy comes out so well from your lips”.

You laughed softly, and after some more silence that was fairly filled with loving stares, a thought crossed his head and you saw the light of his eyes turn to dark.

“What is it, love?”, you put a strand of his hair behind an ear.

“I… I’m just realizing something bad”, he said, and you nodded. “I’m a Frost Giant”.

“Why is it bad?”.

“My actual form is bigger than this. And… colder. And if the baby were Jötun too...”.

“You think the baby might hurt me?”.

“They might. I don’t know. Oh no, what if they hurts you?”, he began to panic, and you shushed him, kissing his temples.

“Don’t worry, Lokes. If that’s the case, we’ll figure it out”, you reassured him. “And maybe it’s not. And we’ll have a little and very healthy half-Jötun running around this small apartment. When have we not solved our issues? We’re good at that bit”.

“You’re right. You’re right, my dear”. He sighed, and then chuckled. “Should we have gotten a bigger place?”.

“We’ll be a very close family”, you laughed.

“We already are”, he whispered, cuddling back to you. “We are a very close family”.

[katsukifatale]

Kaishin for No.10!! That sweet, sweet attempt to resist each other 😆

this will eventually go up on ao3 so when it does pls go give it some love 😅

partially under a cut because it's a long boi.

-

there is nothing sexier than a well-planned, perfectly executed heist, kaito thinks.

he’s shucked up against the storage room on the roof of the hotel he’d stolen from that evening, watching the confused taskforce officers try to figure out how to tackle their latest failure. the gem in his pocket — not pandora — will be mailed anonymously to the inspector’s police station tomorrow. he’s alone up here on the roof — something he’s gotten a little pathetic over since tantei-kun stopped showing up at his heists. he knows why, though — it’d been the only story in the media for days on end. fbi, cia, secret police joint take-down lead by a mysterious detective, left unnamed for his own safety.

it’s no coincidence that kudou shinichi shows up just when tantei-kun disappears — off to america for witness protection, or so he hears.

kaito takes the gem out of his pocket, needing something to occupy his fingers while he waits for the police to clear out down below. he idly wonders what could be taking them so long and flips the gem gently over his fingers in a line, feeling the smooth top of it slide cooly along his skin.

it’s nice to have his theories proven — or well, they might as well be proven, even if there’s no proof. he hasn’t talked to kudou yet, but he’s looking forward to the day when kudou is well enough to return to matching wits, because he can only imagine how much more fun that’ll be when he’s the right size.

he tosses the gem up into the air, and that’s when it all hits the fan.

there’s a loud bang from his left, where the roof door should be, and a desperate shout of his name, and then a heavy weight is bearing him down to the cement. he goes with a surprised yelp, not managing to catch the gem on his descent. almost immediately after, there’s another bang, and a zip, and this he recognizes very easily — a high caliber gunshot.

he glances up to see who is on top of him — and his breath catches, because —

“k-kudou?!”

it’s kudou. kudou is on top of him, one arm around his shoulders and the other taking his weight as he looks up at the building across from them and snarls. his body is — his shoulders are wide, his waist narrow. his legs are thick like a soccer player’s, and his weight is enough to press into kaito without crushing him — a solid presence of safety, and he’s real and here and —

why is he —?

kaito’s fingers curl up in kudou’s jacket — when had they gotten there? — and without looking down kudou moves his hand from kaito’s shoulder and presses it warmly to his face. he must be looking for a signal, kaito thinks dazedly. in the other building.

“kid. you okay?” he asks. “could’ve shot you, what were you doing —”

grown-up kudou is attractive when he’s angry, kaito thinks.

“are you?”

kudou looks down at him, and his pretty mouth is a straight line.

“okay, i mean,” kaito clarifies. his brows furrow and he takes in the exhaustion ringing kudou’s features. “should you be here? you look…”

“dead?” kudou supplies. kaito can’t hide his wince with their faces this close, and kudou’s expression gentles and his thumb swipes across kaito’s cheek. “i’m fine, kid.”

“excellent,” kaito says faintly. “good.”

kudou stops paying attention to him, which is dandy. it gives kaito ample time to study his new facial features. he’s got a boyish charm to him — cute cheeks and a tapering, sharp jaw. he looks fierce like this, hot and intense, eyes glowing with the lights of the city. his eyelashes are long and thick and dark against cheeks flushed with adrenaline. he’s so handsome it’s unreal.

his mouth is easily the prettiest part about him. his lips are pink and chapped, probably from being bitten. kaito has lost control of his limbs or something, because his hand is moving without his brain’s permission, thumb pressing gently into the center of kudo’s bottom lip, fingertips curled up under his chin.

“kid?” kudou’s eyelashes flutter and his damp breath washes over kaito’s thumb.

“i’m going to kiss you,” kaito says, and watches in satisfaction at the darkening of kudou’s eyes.

kudou’s eyes flick back up to the building, ever the professional, but he licks his lips and murmurs, “okay.”

and then there’s a crackling sound coming from kudou’s ear, and kaito can hear a faint confirmation of target acquisition, and that takes both of their attentions.

“target?”

“snake,” kudou says. “now that the main part of the black organisation has been taken care of, we’re going after the remnants. snake is one that’s been worrying me the most. you — your heists —”

kaito makes an aborted sound and makes use of the hand that’s all tangled up in kudou’s jacket to yank him down, and finally kisses kudou square on the mouth.

heists are officially ruined. he’ll never be able to face off against kudou at a heist again without thinking about his mouth and the way it opens up for him almost immediately, or the way kudou’s hand on his face slides down to press solid against his chest.

“welcome back,” he says once they break apart and he gets his breath back. he feels more than hears kudou laugh above him, and oh lord, that swell of feeling he gets at the sight of that lopsided grin.

“good to be back.”

heists are sexy, but kudou shinichi is definitely sexier.

send me kisses

[marvelwritings]

A piece of me has disappeared

Summary: By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. 

or: Peter get's abducted and Tony goes to rescue his son 

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet and …. The repeats stops working once Peter’s stomach gnaws again, the hunger he’s so gravely experiencing has switched to a whole new level. No longer the petty grumbles of an empty stomach, instead it’s replaced by the need to eat anything, despite Peter’s rationality telling him he can’t. He’s been locked up for at least seven days, but he’s still to sceptic to eat anything his captors offer him. He’s very close to breaking.

He tries to hold on by imagining that he’s at home, but he’s so tired, yet so fitful he won’t close his eyes for more then 10 seconds, and the constant torture is so jarring it hurts worse to imagine home, then be woken up in reality, than to just to be present. Peter wonders if Tony is every going to find him.

The first day, he had no question about it. Tony is scarily determined and protective to anyone who dares come after the people he considers family, Peter got a first row demonstration when some journalist tried to bad mouth Spiderman and he got clocked in the jaw, so Peter knows it’s just a matter of time.

By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. So much so that they keep him sedated at all times, just enough sedative to keep him conscious, but not too little that he can tap in his superstrength. Peter will never be able to escape on his own.

Maybe if the avengers got called in they were close, but Peter’s not sure Tony would call in people he hasn’t spoken to in a few months, purely to find him. He can hold out hope though.

The third day is also the day his captures, he hasn’t seen any faces so far and the sedative contorts their voices too much to match them to somebody he knows, start with the emotional manipulation. So far, they had stuck to electrocution by tazers and punches applied to any sensitive area of his body, but Peter must not have been broken fast enough for them.

‘You know, you remind me of the stereotypical bad guys in movies, like in kids movies? Do you like kid movies? My favorite is Frozen’, Peter had once babbled in between punches through bitten teeth, trying to keep up his high spirits.

They didn’t like that one bit.

They claim all sort of ridiculous things, like that the Starks paid money for them to have kidnapped him, that Tony never started searching for him, that he might as well give up because no one was coming to fetch him. Peter laughs in their face, witty even in the face of extreme danger. It was still funny to him then. Now, on the evening of the seventh day, he stares unblinking at a wall, only moving when the physical pain becomes too much and he needs an outlet to scream.

‘Please’, he pleads sobbing. If he wasn’t so starved as he was, so mentally vulnerable, he would have been embarrassed. As it stands, Peter’s just so incapable of resisting, he simply gives in.

‘Please stop,’ Peter whimpers. If he had anything to give he’d bargain, but money is tight for May and him, and he has no knowledge of anything avengers related that could be of interest to these people. Mister Stark told him it was for his own safety, so it wouldn’t be used as leverage against him, but in Peter’s warped mind it further adds proof Tony never trusted him.

‘Ahn’, a captor coos, ‘he’s begging already, how cute.’ The voice is distinctly that of a woman’s, but it hold nothing of the warm timbre both aunt May and Pepper possess. He misses them.

The woman slides a hand up in Peter’s hair, and for one confusing moment Peter thinks she’s going to start stroking it, like Tony does, but then she balls her hands into fists and pulls his head aside. The next tazer gets placed in his neck.

‘This wouldn’t be happening if your so beloved mentor would just give up the plans for the new shield initiative, but alas, as long as he doesn’t you’ll be stuck here. The tazzer buzzes to life and Peter seizes up. It’s the so many’th time today, that Peter gives up on holding back, his scream ricochets in the room.

‘Then again, maybe we went after the wrong kid. Maybe we should have taken Tony Starks real kid? The one he actually cares about?’

Tears stumbles down his cheeks and he wishes he could fall back into unconsciousness, but of course life is not that kind. No, he begs inside his head, to warm out to speak. Not Morgan, never Morgan. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

‘What do you think soldier,’ she addresses the second captor in the room, ‘perhaps a phone call would speed Stark along? A sign of life and how close to it being snuffed out the child is? What do you want Peter?’ She asks sickly sweet, as if it’s a regular question and not a taunt.

Still, Peter can’t help but reach out. He longs for one phone call so wholeheartedly. Maybe, maybe he can convince Mister Stark to get him out of this mess. He could promise to do every task Mister Stark ask of him, he could even offer to work for Stark industries until he could pay back the money he’d pay Peter’s kidnappers, anything to get out of here. Peter will do anything.

‘I think he’s agreeing.’ The woman grins, pulling out a burner phone out of her back pocket. She types for several excruciating moments, in which Peter begs to every god listening that Mister Stark will pick up. That he’ll hear Peter out.

‘Hello,’ the woman greets the phone, her smirk so evil Peter’s spider senses warm him to run, fighting through the drugs. ‘I think I have something that belongs to you Stark.’

She lowers the phone to a few inches from Peter’s ear, because Peter is too tied up to hold it on his own. ‘Speak loudly kid.’

The use of the nickname causes shudders to run down Peter’s back. Why can’t he go home?

‘Mister Stark, please help me, I don’t know where I am, but- I want to go home, please mister Stark I-. I’ll do anything you want, just please.’ Peter’s whines gain pitch, until he is nothing but a sobbing mess, barely worth the name Peter Parker, let alone Spiderman.

The phone clicks shut.

‘Whoops, looks like he hung up’, The woman snickers, patting Peter’s cheek with fake compassion. Peter bellows, heaving so severely the nonexistent food he ate threatens to come back up.

He’d never find out the phone was never connected in the first place.

---

By the grace of Peter doesn’t know what, he drops unconscious after the failed phone call to Mister Stark. The sleep is fitful at best, but at least it helps restock his powers. When Peter comes too, there are loud sounds just outside of the room he’s captivated in. He thinks there’s screaming and pleading, but he’s so exhausted he can’t bring himself to care. His hands drop uselessly by his side, his head turned away from the door as he squeezes his eyes shuts.

Why can’t this be over yet?

The door busts of his hinges, the door falls inwards. Immediately, the yellow and red armor, belonging to the iron man suit, rushes in, with the faceplate down. Now that the door is open, or gone more like, It’s clear that all the sounds Peter had been hearing where the scream of his captures. There are many of them, but they’re being taken down one by one.

Peeking aside the Iron man armor, Peter sees a flash of red and blue, and captain America’s shield knocking someone out cold.

‘Kid, kid’, Mister Stark draws his attention in a panic. The faceplate is still down, which means that Mister Stark is either not here, like he wasn’t when the vulture first dropped him into a lake, or he’s assessed the situation and deemed it too dangerous to lower his defenses.

‘You’re okay underoos, we’re getting you out of here.’ With very little effort, Mister Stark snaps restraints on Peter’s wrist and ancles, all the while murmuring under his breath. He’s trying to reassure Peter, but it’s not having any type of effect.

Instead, the comfort causes Peter to burst into tears once more, his body begging for food and pain medication that will make everything stop hurting. He doesn’t care that Mister Stark is doing this out of rightfulness, or maybe out of debt out of some kind that he’s trying to even out, Peter just wants to go home.

Once the restraints are all loose, and Peter is free of them, Mister Stark waits for a tense second, maybe expecting Peter to hob off the table and join the fight or something. That doesn’t happen. Peter lays motionless on the table, looking intensely at the glowing eyes of the iron man suit, maybe trying to convey a message that Mister Stark can’t decipher.

‘Come on Pete, we have to get out of here before they bring backup. I can only hold them off for so long.’

‘Back up?’ Peter ask nonsensical, his spider senses blaring danger at him.

‘Yeah, they’re big fans of the avengers, they’ll all be swarming in here for autographs soon, but we’re kinda busy so we really have to go now.’ Mister Stark turns frantic, his hands carefully, oh so cautiously, gripping at his shoulders.

Peter allows his muscles to turn limp, pliant under strange hands. They belong to his mentor, to one of the only touches he has ever felt that don’t originate from people who are trying to hurt him, but he’s so very terrified, it doesn’t register. Peter holds still, submissive to whatever is about to happen because the pain always seems to end faster when he doesn’t struggle.

‘Peter’, Mister Stark anguished voice insists, his faceplates lifts up, and the dull eyes of who Peter has come to think of as a father gaze upon him with despair. Mister Starks hair is greasy, his mouth is pulled down in a grimace, and his eyes are, for a lack of better word grief stricken. He’s so much older then he was before Peter was taken. ‘Please buddy, we have to go.’

Mister Stark’s calloused finger strokes Peter cheek with the utmost care, barely even pressing firm enough for Peter to feel it. He does though, and traps the touch between his check and his shoulder.  The dam breaks, and the barrier of terror that clouded Peter’s judgment lifts with it. He gasps, coming up for a breath of fresh air, and the moment between mentor and son brings at least a sliver of clarity, before he sinks back under the enormity of his panic.  

‘I can’t walk’, Peter rasps, his throat torn from all the screams. He refuses to let that stop him, he’s so close to safety, he needs to push on further just a tad longer. ‘Please Mister Stark, I can’t walk.’

‘It’s okay Pete’, Tony soothes, pressing an unyielding kiss to his forehead, and if at all possible, Peter see the rage harden his face even more. ‘I’m going to get you out of here, but it’s gonna hurt, I’m sorry.’

Before Peter can begin to process that statement, Mister Stark puts the weight on his knees, the iron man suit helping to lift Peter as if it’s no trouble at all.  Tony is no liar, Peter finds, as his body begs to be placed back on the uncomfortable bed. Even places that had been relatively unharmed ache, and Peter feels like a broken doll.

‘It’s okay Kiddo we’re almost there, just a minute longer.’ Peter clings to Mister Stark, using every ounce of strength to hang on, despite the fact that Tony has a tight grip on him as well. Iron man isn’t fighting alone, as the avengers are here to back him, them, up. In any other situation, Peter would be gushing. Not only is he seeing his heroes in action, but they’re in action for him, to help him, but now, Peter only turns his head to burrow it into Mister Starks chest plate.

‘Please, please’, Peter whispers the entire way to the jet, not even realizing he’s begging for something.

‘I got you Pete’, Tony assures, one hand briefly leaving Peter’s back to shoot at a capture that’s standing in the way of the jet. Other than that, he doesn’t interfere with the fight one time, but he must itch too. Peter hears him bark orders at captain America, telling him to take some of them alive.

‘Please don’t leave me here, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.’

The Jet is nice and warm, something Peter relishes in, but when Tony tries to lower Peter on a medbed, that’s objectively much more comfortable then the bed he was on before, Peter screams. No words are spoken, but the scream startles Mister Stark just the same.

‘Stark, the base is cleared, get him strapped in, Banner is coming’, Natasha ushers, ignoring Peter’s cries and running to the cockpit. Stark has him, she argues, and it does the kid no good to have more prying eyes on him.

‘What is it, are you in pain?’ Tony asks franticly, without responding to Nat, hands hovering over Peter’s body to check for injuries, the light dims when he spots just how badly he was treated in captivity.

Peter screams again when Mister Stark pulls away too far for his liking, latching onto the suit so rigorous it creaks in protests.

‘Please, I’ll be good, don’t leave me, please. I- I know… I’m sorry, Morgan- I’, Peter can’t talk with how much he’s weeping, there are so many things to say and all of them are fighting one another to be said first. Eventually, after everyone has already touched base, the jet leaves and Doctor Banner urgers Tony to place him on the bed, Peter settles for; ‘Don’t leave me here.’

‘Peter’, Tony spits, so harsh that Peter snaps to attention, letting go of the armor and limply following where mister Stark wants him. He gently grips Peter’s chin, mindful of the bruises, and with glistening eyes, he conveys; ‘I’m never leaving you here, do you understand. I don’t care what else you have in your head, but right now, all I need you to know is that I’m not leaving you. Ever.’

He waits for the conforming nod, which Peter only gives when Mister Stark clasps his hand into his. ‘Beside, May would kill me if I came back without her nephew, and I don’t want to be the one to receive her wrath.’ Tony laughs faintly.

He wants to cry at that, good or bad he’s not sure, but instead he allows himself to be lowered, giving in only because Tony is crouching down with him, shielding Peter’s body with his own. It’s unsensical, there in the jet and there’s no danger, but if Peter feels protected Tony will do it, no questions asked.

As soon as he’s in a horizontal positions, Doctor Banner injects him with pain medication, and within seconds, Peter has floated away, dreaming of the lake house with Morgan, Pepper and tony and May at the end of the hallway.

---

Peter knows he’s in the medbay before his body has even fully awoken. He’s been here before, perhaps one to many times for it too be so familiar, and he can recognize the atmosphere from anywhere. The smell of disinfectant lingers around the room heavily, but so does the smell of motor oil, coming from Mister Stark’s lab the floor below the medbay. Usually he’s not alone when he wakes up either, accompanied by Mister Stark or May, maybe even both, and so despite the room having a different connotation, it holds security for Peter.

When all his senses click into place, with an almost audible snap after being out of commission for a week, the burning anguish joins it. It’s almost worse than during the torture itself, because it’s hitting him all at once now, and after stewing for a day his body is one big bruise, but it’s also better, because no more hurt can be added.

Blinking his eyes open, Peter glances around the room and notices that he’s by himself. He hasn’t made up his mind yet whether that’s a good or bad thing. Despite being alone, Peter very nearly cries out for the pain medication he’s sure Tony has at hand. His metabolism runs through painkillers faster than a normal body, but Mister Stark has experience in that department thanks to captain America, which is why Peter never wakes up in the medbay feeling sore.

He’s hoping to snatch some of the good stuff before he can sink away in sleep again, until a dark thought pops up in his head. What if Mister Stark purposefully didn’t give him enough medication so he wouldn’t stay asleep? What if Peter is expected to pay of his debt starting this very moment? It would make sense. Mister Stark is a man that likes to get a move on things, and this is probably no exception.

He bites back a loud whine. He’s so tired and sore, and if he could be anywhere in the world right now he’d choose the lakehouse and rest on the back porch, while looking over Morgan and ensuring she’s safe.

Still, it’s heaps better then what was waiting for him before, so Peter sucks in a deep breath and lifts himself up. He’s dresses in a hospital gown with socks on his feet, the only reprieve of the cold of the tiles that he has. His body fights in protest against the jolting movements, and Peter sinks back into bed three times before finally managing to stay upright. He swallows back bile, and blinks away the disorientation woozing its way through his head.

‘Friday’? He whispers, voice cracking on every syllable.

‘Yes, mister Parker, the AI replies easily, as chipper as a computer can possibly be. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she adds, when Peter takes too long to reply. It’s not out of rudeness, but the words take a while to be processed in Peter’s hazy mind.

‘Can you tell me what Mister Stark wants me to do?’ Peter finally asks after coughing to clear his throat. Pride flows through his bloodstream when he manages to sound fine.

‘Mister Stark has not given me any directions, but by the distress and elevated heartbeat he experienced whilst at your bedside last, I hypothesize that he would like you to rest Peter.’  

Confusion laces Peter’s next move. Rest? But if that was the case why wasn’t the man here, ensuring that he does like all the other times he’s been in this position?  Deciding not to ask the AI anymore questions, while simultaneously ignoring her advice, Peter focuses on setting one foot in front of the other. If he can’t get a direct answer out of Friday, he’ll just get started on cleaning up in the lab.

The last few times Tony and Peter worked in there, Mister Stark had jokingly grumbled that the lace was getting to disorganized even for his taste, which definitely means something. Peter limps his way to the door, already breathing more heavily and deciding to take a rest against the still closed door. His foot throbs, so Peter switches to put the most weight on the side of his foot, instead of on the balm.

The small trek has left him bone tried, and the lab still seems so far away. Peter tries to calculate how far the lab still is, and agrees with himself to divide the length into smaller stretches. His next stop is at the elevator, so Peter shuffled along the floor, ignoring the black spots that dance before his eyes and threaten to have him collapse.

The extortion reminds him of the time that Toomes dropped a building on him, which is just plain ridiculous, this shouldn’t be half as tough. Peter scolds himself to man up when about halfway to the elevator he bumps into a cart and whimpers.

After finally finding support on the elevator beams, Peter allows himself a twenty second break to cry. At this point, the exact reason for crying is unbeknownst to him. All that he does know is that he feels like a mess, like someone took all the spiderman away from him and left him as a pile of uselessness. He shouldn’t have the right to complain however. Mister Stark rescued him from a fate much worse, the least he could do is help him out.

‘Friday’, Peter pauses to gulp in more air, and to force his tears back. ‘Open the elevator.’

‘Mister Parker I would advise-‘

‘Please’, he begs, voice barely louder then a whisper. The AI complies without further disagreement. The elevator begins to move the floor bellow it, soundlessly passing Peter along. The theme song, a little joke that Tony had installed after they made a song about spiderman, which plays during every elevator ride when Peter is present, stays off. The doors open, and Peter stumbles out, cheering up a dash when the mess doesn’t look as bad as he had imagined it. The clean up should be doable within two hours, even in Peter’s injured state. Most of the mess comes from scattered papers and documents that Tony tosses aside and never bothered to do anything with, and of mechanical parts that are ready to be thrown out.

All in all, not a lot of weight that Peter has to pick up. He has barely started on five pages when the elevator behind him opens again. Peter hadn’t noticed it going to a different floor in the first place.

Lister Stark burst out of the room like the devil himself is after him. He pauses for one second to observe what Peter’s doing -he’s in the middle of bending down at a very lateral pace- and then he’s off again, cursing under his breath.

‘Jesus Christ Peter what are you doing?’

He pulls out a rolling chair from behind his work bench and rushes it to Peter side. ‘Come on, sit.’ He says already clenching a hand around Peter’s bicep to guide him down. In his confusion, Peter follows his instruction.

‘Mister Stark?’ He questions, eyes tracking his mentors movement as if he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and punishment will follow.

There is none, all that Tony does, is fall down on his knees in front of Peter, so they’re making direct eye contact. Peter gulps at the sight. He’s sure those jeans cost more than half of what May ears a month, and if Peter is expected to repay those too, he’ll never be able to pay of his debt.

‘Kiddo, what are you doing?’ Mister Stark asks incredulous, his hand never leaving Peter’s arm. His eyes sweep over Peter’s form, noticing the ailments that he aggravated by walking all the way down here. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get started already.’ Peter admits shyly. He can’t understand why he’s being treated with such kindness all of a sudden.

‘Started on what Pete? I don’t understand.’ Mister Stark shuffles closer, one hand coming up to cup Peter’s chin, sweeping gentle circles that are meant to calm himself down as much as Peter.

‘Paying of my debt.’ Peter replies confused, wrapping his arms around his stomach area and bending downwards in an order to self sooth. He needs to get up soon, are Peter’ not sure he will be able to. Now that he’s granting his body some rest, the pain he forced to the back of his mind is rushing back in.

‘What debt kid, you need rest and you need it right now. Stay here, I’m going to go get you a gurney so you don’t require any more walking.’

Right as Mister Stark gets of his knees, Peter’s hand shoots out, gripping the older man’s wrist.  The action was pure habitual, but now that he’s initiated contact he doesn’t know what to do.

‘When will I have to start working then? I’d rather get started as soon as possible, to thank you for everything Mister Stark.’ Peter’s voice pitches even lower, letting his head hang down in shame. He really doesn’t want to offer his suit back, Spiderman is what gives him purpose, but the sooner he no longer has a debt, the sooner he can start working to provide May with an extra income as well. He has no choice.

‘I can give you the suit back if you’ll accept it.’

Tony regards him with perturbation for several long lasting moment. Then, he gasps, finally clicking in his head what Peter is going on about.

‘Oh kiddo, that’s the concussion speaking. Listen to me,’ he sinks back down in front Peter, taking his hand in his. ‘You have done so much for me. If anything it’s me that should be in debt to you.’ Peter pens his mouth to argue, but Tony hushes him softly.

‘You’re not thinking straight buddy, that why spider baby’s need their rest. But truly Peter, you don’t owe me anything. Well except maybe you owe it to  be safe, I think I’ve earned that much.’

‘Really?’ Peter asks optimistically, his whole body filling up with a feeling he can’t name, but it chokes him up until he’s bursting with the urge to give a hug to his mentor.

‘Yeah Peter of course. All I want is my kids to be safe.’

Kids. Tony sees Peter as his kid, as equal to Morgan. A person to love unconditionally without needing any favors, without having any debt. Of course Mister Stark won’t ask that of him, despite his front, the man has a heart that’s made of gold. Mister Stark, his mentor, and his father figure.

‘Dad,’ Peter sobs, almost falling out of the chair in his rush to get to Tony. The man immediately returns the hug, holding Peter up in a way that he hopes will be the least painful for him.

‘You’re okay Peter you’re okay.’

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking’, Peter confesses, deeply ashamed of how low he thought of his dad.

‘It’s okay Kiddo, like I said it’s the concussion. Of course you were scared, I can’t blame you. I promise that I tried so hard to find you bud. I’m sorry it took me so long.’

Peter says nothing, he’s had enough encounters with Tony now to sense that the man wouldn’t believe him if Peter told him it’s okay. Instead he just nuzzles closer, accepting all the love and affection radiating from Tony, and giving back what he hopes is just as much.

‘Can we go back to the lakehouse?’ Peter asks softly, burring his head in Tony’s neck. It might be a weird question coming from him. He liked the beach house enough, but he has never actively asked to go there when they could stay at the tower as well. But now, Peter won’t feel safe unless his down there, in the cabin hidden behind threes, where the environment is quiet that he can hear everyone’s heartbeat, and can confirm that everyone is safe.

‘Sure kid.’ Tony responds, a tad bewildered, but happy to provide anyway. ‘We’ll leave as soon as you get check out okay. I want to make sure you didn’t rip anything.’

‘Okay’, Peter mumbles, a bone deep tiredness washing over him, and letting him sink down into Tony. ‘Thanks dad.’

If Peter were more awake, he would have noticed the silent tears of happiness streaming down Mister Starks cheek at the name. As it stands, Peter just hums contently when a kiss is pressed at the top of his head, and Tony strikes a hand through his hair.

‘Anything for my son.’

[elisela]

above the ground (ao3) buck x eddie, 1.3k, domestic fluff, trees of vermont for the second day of @eddiediaz‘s birthday week celebration!

--

The first time Eddie catches Buck staring up at the trees in the backyard he’s just finished pulling all the yellow tile out of their bathroom, plaster dust still coating his arms. Buck had heaved a box full of the cracked clay into the outdoor garbage can, turned to walk back to the house, and just—stopped. “You good?” he asks, and Buck visibility shakes himself out of his reverie.

“Yep,” he says, glancing down at Eddie’s empty hands. “Was that the last of it?”

“Still another pile,” Eddie says, and follows behind him when Buck claps him on the shoulder and pushes past him on the way back into the house.

--

The second—and third—time they’re barbecuing. Or, well, they aren’t, but Bobby is, taking over their backyard because theirs is being reseeded. Eddie’s not doing much of anything; the kids are running around the yard, Buck and Chim are in the middle of dragging Bobby’s patio table over so they all have places to sit, Karen is swatting at Athena’s hand when she reaches into the salad bowl to pinch an olive between her fingers.

Buck drops into the chair next to him after the table placement is approved by Hen, threading their fingers together with an easy sigh and accepting the cold bottle Eddie hands him gratefully. His head is tipped back, eyes trained on the far corner of the yard, one of the corners of his mouth pinched thoughtfully.

“Planning something?” Eddie says, because he knows that look. That’s the look that caused them to strip and restain all the hardwood floors downstairs the weekend before, the look that preceded Buck’s proposal that they rip out the out-of-place island in the kitchen, take out the crappy wire shelving in the pantry and replace it with wood, and while they’re at it, Buck’s never liked the placement of the refrigerator anyway.

“Maybe,” Buck says. He sounds far away, and Eddie wonders what havoc he’ll bring to the house now.

“Cool,” is all he says. There hasn’t been anything Buck’s done that he hasn’t liked—fish scale tile in Christopher’s bathroom aside, because that was one hundred percent his son’s choice. “You know where the credit card is.”

--

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he comes home a week later and there’s a pile of lumber sitting in the corner of the backyard.

--

The plans for the treehouse are stretched across Buck’s desk, and Eddie runs his fingers over the detailed sketch, the trunk of the tree it’s all built around. If he’s reading it right, it’s meant to be just fifteen feet off the ground, an octagonal structure with a deck that faces the backyard, an enclosed room at the back, a staircase that spirals up to it.

“I would have put it up higher, but I had to work around city ordinances,” Buck says from behind him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “That’s as tall—and as big—as I could make it without applying for waivers.”

“This is amazing,” Eddie says, glancing back at the plans. “I didn’t even know Chris wanted a treehouse.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Well,” he says, “he hasn’t said anything to me, either. But one of his classmates was talking about backyard camping and how cool it would be to have a treehouse to live in during the summer, and the look on Chris’ face—I just thought it would be pretty easy to give him.”

Eddie’s going to marry this man. “You need help with it?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure when we’ll get started. I called an arborist—don’t look impressed, it was Bobby’s idea, he said we should get the whole yard checked before any more trees decide to crash through the roof—and I’m waiting to schedule with them. Don’t wanna start building before I know if the tree can hold it.”

“Chris is gonna be thrilled,” Eddie says. “But I hope you know that you’re the one sleeping out there with him. I’ve done my time sleeping outdoors.”

Buck laughs and pulls him close. “He’s almost eight, Eds. Let him and Denny go out on their own, and we can have some fun in here.”

Eddie pauses, hands on Buck’s warm, solid side. “You know he’s gone for the next few hours, right?”

Buck still closes the door behind them.

--

Maybe Eddie should be over a shirtless and sweaty Buck, but it’s a sight he never wants to drag his eyes away from. The last weeks of summer have been blisteringly hot, so naturally Buck decided that it would be the best time to build.

Eddie has no complaints—except when Chim starts calling him over to help.

They’d started early, driving a rented lift into the backyard just after sunrise so they could get the frame built out around the tree. Eddie had done his part by staying out of the way and making sure there were enough bagels to satisfy even Buck’s insatiable hunger, picking up lunch from Bobby’s when they took a mid-day break, and was about to disappear again when Chim called his name.

“Eddie,” he says, hands on his hips fifteen feet up, straddling two of the cross-sections that radiate from around the tree, “getting the base down would go a lot faster if you could hoist the planks up to us.”

In the end, Eddie is almost as sweaty as they are, arms pleasantly sore in a way they haven’t been in a very long time.

The build takes three days; they finish the round base and railing on the first day, the staircase takes them all of Sunday, and Buck is antsy all week, never getting home early enough to get started on the enclosed section without losing the light. Christopher walks up the stairs daily, spreading himself out on the base and laughing when Eddie aims the hose up at him.

Buck’s up at daybreak the next weekend, the sound of hammering waking Eddie from what had been a good dream. He’d made Eddie promise not to let Chris watch the progress, so as soon as Chim knocks on the door, Eddie takes Chris and leaves, spends the day running errands and waiting for Buck to give them the all clear, a text that doesn’t arrive until it’s nearly dinner time.

He picks up pizza on his way home, tries not to laugh at the way Chris bypasses the front door and goes immediately around the side of the house, yelling for Buck as he does. Eddie slows his steps—he knows Buck and Chris are already bonded, that they love being around each other, but he wants to give them a moment that’s just for them after Buck has done something so incredibly huge for his son.

Chris is already in the enclosed section when he makes his way up the staircase, and it’s nothing like he had imagined. This isn’t the cheap, hastily built treehouses he’d seen while looking for houses—it’s like a log cabin up in a tree, and although he can see the exhaustion in Buck’s body as he walks around with Chris, the only expression on his face is the excitement that’s mirrored on Christopher’s.

“Buck says we can sleep up here tonight!” Chris says excitedly, tugging on his hand. “I’m gonna go pack my stuff!”

--

“Air mattresses are less comfortable than I remembered,” Buck says much later that night, after Chris had already dropped off to sleep. “Maybe we should get real beds in here.”

“Maybe you were right about letting him be on his own,” Eddie says, linking their fingers together. It’s far from the worst place he’s slept, but Eddie’s a creature of comfort now. “We can give them walkies to check in. I’m calling Hen first thing tomorrow.”

[luminouspoes]

After Poe being tortured by Kylo Ren in TFA, he would have some kind of PTSD.... So I was thinking can you write about Poe having nightmares about that, and the reader comforting him? Just pure fluff

Warnings: some references to Poe’s torture/nightmares & PTSD 

It’s well past midnight when you shuffle into the shipyard, a sweater tucked around you and a toolkit hung around your hips. You couldn’t sleep, so you figure it would be a good time to get ahead on some of the repairs you needed to do tomorrow, which included some minor repairs on Poe’s newest ship.

He hadn’t crashed it or gotten it blown up yet, which you supposed was an improvement, the most damage his X-Wing sustained in his last mission was some blown fuses and carbon scoring. 

You’re surprised to already find a technician’s ladder rolled up against the hull of the ship when you arrive. You glance around, but find that the Resistance base is surprisingly quiet, save the sounds of wildlife emitting from Ajan Kloss’ jungles. You step up on the ladder and clamber up to the top, where you find Poe Dameron asleep in the cockpit.

His head is tilted back against the headrest like he fell asleep looking up at the stars - which he probably did - and while the sight is certainly endearing, he doesn’t seem to be sleeping well. His expression is screwed up and he’s fidgeting in his seat quite a bit. Worried, you rap your knuckles against the closed window to get his attention. It works - a little too well because Poe jolts upright abruptly and slams his head into the roof.

You wince apologetically as his eyes fall on you. His eyes soften around the corners, and he presses the switch to unlock the ship’s canopy as he runs a hand over his sore head. You push up on the canopy so you can rest your arms just on the edge, then you lean forward. “You’ve got to stop falling asleep out here, Dameron.”

“Well, at least I sleep,” Poe says defensively. “I’m not sure that you do, as many times as you keep finding me out here.”

“Insomnia is my best friend,” you retort wryly, stepping down the rungs when Poe goes to stand up. You hop down instead of taking the last couple of steps, then steady the ladder as Poe steps onto it. Instead of doing the civilized thing and walking down, Poe just grips the handlebars and slides down till his feet land on the soft grass beside you. 

“Which I’m sure has nothing to do with the amount of caf you inhale.”

You skirt around his crack about your caf addiction. “So what’s your excuse for sleeping in this thing and not - oh, I don’t know - your quarters?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead, his dark brown eyes sweep back up to the canopy of stars above. “The stars calm me down.”

You sidle up closer to him, following his gaze. There are thousands of glittering stars, too many to take in all at once. You’re tempted to point out a few systems you think you recognize, but you remain quiet because looking up makes everything on the ground fall to the wayside, and you kind of want to embrace that.

“You’re still having nightmares?” You finally ask, sliding your gaze from the sky to the star standing beside you. There really is no other way to describe Poe, in your mind. He’s a bright light in the middle of all this darkness, with an irresistible gravitational pull that brings people together. 

“Yeah.” He admits, voice rough. His content expression slips to a pained one. “They were starting to go away, I don’t get why they’re so much worse recently.”

You step around in front of him, taking his face in your hands. “Trauma’s not a straight line, anything could have triggered them. A recent mission, the way someone phrased something, general anxiety -” you brush your thumb along his cheekbone where you can just barely make out the faint outline of a scar - “Which there’s plenty of, anymore.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, catching your wrist and bringing your hands down. He doesn’t let go though, instead, he pinches the fabric of the sweater as he thinks. “Outta all the things I’ve seen, I can’t believe I let that brute get to me most of all.”

You shake your head. “Nope, we’re not doing that.” You press a kiss to his nose, which he scrunches his face up at, ticklish. “You didn’t let him do anything, that’s not how this works.”

“How does this work, then?” Poe asks, sounding both genuinely curious and frustrated.

“It works by you not blaming yourself for your trauma.” You reply with ease. “You’re already doing well.”

“How so, doc?”

You tip backward and make a sweeping gesture towards the sky. “You found something to calm yourself down, enough to sleep by.”

“Not very well,” Poe admits as he rubs the back of his neck. “I was having another nightmare when you showed up, and besides...falling asleep in an X-Wing isn’t the most reliable way to catch up on sleep.”

You look down sheepishly, trying to muster up the courage to say what you're thinking. “You could, um, stay with me. If you want.” There's a leaf just by the toe of your boot with a fascinating set of bright orange veins that pop against the dull yellow of the leaf, so you stare at it as your question is met with a beat of silence.

“In your quarters?”

“No, in the X-Wing.” You retort sardonically. You fix Poe with a well, duh expression. “Yes, my quarters. I don't sleep well at night anyway, so you could...lay down and if I notice anything bothering you, I can wake you up.”

You entirely expect him to decline, but instead, he asks, “You wouldn't mind?”

“You're my friend, of course, I wouldn't mind.” You reply, cheeks warming. “Besides the Resistance needs its favorite commander well-rested.” 

“Are you sure it's the Resistance's favorite commander and not yours?” Poe asks with a tiny smile, and you swat at his arm. He dodges easily, catching your hand again, but this time he tugs you forward. You stumble against him, one hand landing on his chest as he looks down at you with a soft expression. 

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace, his chin resting on the crown of your head. Despite your hammering heart, you melt instantly against him. Few people gave hugs like Poe Dameron did.

“Thank you.” He murmurs faintly as he moves his head to press a kiss to your hairline. 

“Always.” You say when he draws back. You extend your hand to him, wiggling your fingers slightly. Poe chuckles, takes your hand, and you lead him back to your quarters. 

You don't pass anyone on the way there, which is fine by you and by Poe too, you're sure, but by the time you're stepping into your room with Poe hanging sheepishly behind your heels, a wave of exhaustion has hit you. Still, you're true to your word, so you motion at the mattress. “Have at it,” you tell him as you move toward your desk. 

Poe doesn't even pull down the duvet, just toes off his shoes and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed like he's afraid he'll break it. “You sure about this? I don't like the idea of you staying up all night to make sure I sleep. Where'd we be if one of Rose's best techs were falling asleep on the job cos of me?”

“I told you, I'm not even tired -” you hide a yawn behind your hand and cough, but Poe's eyebrow shoots upward so you know you've been caught - “I mean, I'm tired, but not enough to sleep.”

Poe leans forward off the bed, grabbing you by the sleeve of your sweater, and gently tugs you forward. You could hold your ground if you want, but you shuffle forward anyway, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. 

“You need your rest too, you know. I can always sleep on the floor or go back to my quarters.” 

“You're not sleeping on my floor.” You scoff, “And I think we've already established that you’re having trouble sleeping in your quarters.”

“The X-Wing is always available.” 

“Or we could just share the bed.” You don't mean to say it aloud - you don't think - but it slips out anyway. Part of you flounders, but it's overridden by your concern for his screwed up sleep schedule, so you continue on, “It's not like we haven't fallen asleep together before.”

Those times were different and you know it - falling asleep huddled together over datapads in the corner of the debriefing room was totally different than dozing off in the same bed.

Poe stands up and you start to think he’s going to leave, but instead, he gestures at the bed. “Pick your side.”

“Really?” You ask, moving to your favored side, closest to the wall. Unlike Poe, you yank the duvet down and snuggle in before patting the space next to you. He climbs on just as warily as before, feet kicked over the blanket.

“I figured there was a 50/50 shot of me finding you asleep outside my door if I tried to leave,” Poe says with a light smile and you whack him with one of the bed pillows. He isn’t wrong, you’re well-known around the base for your dedication to looking out for your friends, and that sounds...exactly like what you were planning to do if he wasn’t going to stick around.

He settles on the bed beside you, a low sigh escaping his lips as he stares up at the ceiling. You twist onto your side, propping your head up with your elbow. “Poe?”

He hums in response, not immediately taking his eyes off the ceiling. 

“It’s okay to be afraid, you know.” 

He turns his head to look down at you softly. “I know, I just...wish I wasn’t.”

You seek out his hand in the dark. As soon as you find it, you thread your fingers together. You wish none of this happened, it makes you angry when you think about it. “No one wants to be afraid, but it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

“Everyone’s counting on me. Leia’s counting on me.” 

“You really think the General doesn’t have nightmares either?” You counter. His gaze flicks back up to meet yours. You shift again, scooting a little closer. “Rey’s mentioned having nightmares, so has Finn. Even Jess has them, you know that better than anyone. People are all counting on them, so what makes you so different?”

“I just...don’t wanna let her down.” He’s talking about Leia, you realize.

You shake your head. “Poe Dameron, that’s impossible. No one understands the General quite like you do.” You bump your knee against his side, “I’m pretty sure no one understands you quite like the General does.”

“I don’t know about that.” Poe chuckles and looks back up at the ceiling. “There’s this person who always seems to know what I’m thinking.”

“Oh? What are they like, then, have I met them?”

“Probably. They’re a technician. One of Rose’s best, actually. Chewed me up one side and down the other for strapping experimental tech onto Black One before it got destroyed. Usually drags me to bed when they find me out cold in an X-Wing.”

Your cheeks warm. “They sound like a handful.”

“They are,” Poe agrees and you resist the urge to swat him with a pillow. “Stubborn like you wouldn’t believe, strong sense of justice, has an even bigger heart and will do anything for the people they care about. They’re a damn good friend - even if they keep their room below freezing -” he emphasizes this last part by finally ducking under the blankets and you bark out a laugh.

“It’s not that cold.” 

“Oh, yes it is,” Poe argues with a shiver. You roll your eyes and settle back into your pillow as he settles on his side, his back to you.

After a long moment of silence, you say, “Hey, Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a damn good friend, too.”

You’re met with a sheepish laugh, and you cautiously throw an arm around his torso. He doesn’t react for a minute, but just as you’re about to pull away, he wraps his hand around yours and pulls it up to his chest. You smile and awkwardly move closer, burying your face in between his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out, but you stay up for a while longer to make sure he’s in a steady sleep, but for the first time all evening, he seems relaxed and peaceful, so you close your eyes and murmur against his shirt, “G’night, flyboy.”