#hurt/ only a little comfort

[gojos-thot-patrol]

HIIII how have you been?? <33

Candy here, and dear lord have you heard about a star being named after satoru?? Literally, my first thought about it is that should tell this news to you and maybe request (if you’re not doing anything and up to writing rn) because i thought this star will really spread heart-wrenching fanfictions about him, something related to a star with satoru, i kept thinking about him and sugu and stars defining their fate.. sorry this is so vague, tell me if you want details hihi,

hope you’re doing so finee, have some candy babes 🫶🫶

CANDY HELLO DARLING HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!

They named a Star after out boy?!?!?!?!? I'm gonna be emotional-

Okay okay, so I am currently working on kinktober BUT I'm gonna take a break here and wrote a lil warm up for you for two reasons.

The opening line to the fic instantly came to me and I couldn't not wrote a drabble at least

once you're one of my named anons or moots, you get special treatment <3

That being said, I call this one

Starlight.

When you first saw Satoru Gojo, you could have sworn whatever higher power there was put the stars in his eyes by hand, carefully and meticulously placing the celestial sparkles to make the most breathtaking eyes you had ever seen.

You saw galaxies when he laughed, constellations connect when he smiled, you were sure your heart exploded into a thousand celestial galaxies when he finally asked you out. You had fallen in love with Astraeus himself.

The only person Gojo seemed to love even half as much as he loved you was Suguru. The two boys beyond inseparable. Suguru would talk about astrology and you could see the celestial bodies in Gojo's eyes dazzle with adoration. You couldn't blame him. Suguru had a charm to him that made it impossible not to fall into his orbit. It only felt natural when Gojo suggested Suguru officially join your relationship.

You remembered the countless nights you had spent cuddled between your loves, watching movies until the early morning light. You remembered how in love Suguru was with the moon and how fascinated was with the stars. Spending entire nights out under the glittering sky on full moon evenings, dancing and laughing and falling in love.

You remembered the first time you saw the luminaries in Gojos eyes explode, marking the inevitable heat death of your universe. When word of Suguru's betrayal came out. You saw entire galaxies collapse in real time as he coped with what felt impossible. It wasn't the last time you saw the black holes form there.

You though they would never glimmer again after Suguru died, By Gojos own hands no less. You didn't spend the nights under the stars anymore. Instead they were spent at home, with him curled into your side. The stars weren't in his eyes anymore, they were glimmering in his tears. Nothing you did seemed to help. He needed time.

He slowly recovered, though his eyes never dazzled quite as bright as they used to. He recovered, and you recovered with him. He found joy in new things. In raising his son Megumi, in teaching and leading his kids to creating a new world for Jujutsu Society. He found a purpose beyond just being the strongest. You swore the stars in his eyes dazzled exactly how they did the first day you met him on the day he asked you to be his bride.

It was the last time you would ever see the stars. You remembered taking comfort in the soft glitter of his eyes when he told you he would win, and then feeling impossibly betrayed when he never came home. You couldn't cope. The sun had died, the universe had proven it's self to be cold and uncaring.

That is until you the full moon. It was weeks after Satoru's funeral, and by all means you had plans to just ignore it, finding it almost too painful without your darlings. And yet, once the time came, you found yourself drawn into it's orbit.

You swore you saw those stars smiling down at you. The ones you had fallen in love with all of those years ago. You just knew, some cosmic comfort assured you, Satoru was okay. You could hear Suguru in your heart. "Thank you, for fixing what I broke. I'll take care of it from here Darling."

You knew they were okay. And one day, you'd see them again. But for now, at least you still had Satoru's stars in your life. And if you ever missed him, you had the entire galaxy to remind you he was never truly that far away.

[sysig]

Ah, childhood memories (Patreon)

[phantom-z0ne]

Serendipity

"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.” Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.

WC: 1215

Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

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Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections. 

The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.

From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry? 

Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billy’s soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence. 

Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.

Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.

The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two? 

Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. “So,” He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. “What are you doing here, little guy?”

It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.

The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billy’s knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.

Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.

Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.

The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way. 

“What are you?” Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.

It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.

He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home. 

…He hadn't realized how lonely he was before this. 

He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But… this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billy’s techniques as Captain Marvel.

The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.

Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the other’s company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else. 

With this creature— he’d have to name it eventually, Billy thought absently—all that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.

Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done. 

It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.

Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.

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Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funk 

Thanks for reading!!

──── ∘°❉°∘ ────

Ao3

[muirmarie]

honestly the funniest thing is coming across ppl who are like "bones is so mean to spock 😡😡😡" like spock doesn't go out of his way to be just as big a cunt to mccoy??? it's their LOVE LANGUAGE!!! some of y'all didn't grow up watching tv shows with old broads and old queen-coded men being as cunty as possible to each other OUT OF LOVE. spock spends half his shift on the bridge coming up with mean things to say to his dr the moment mccoy flounce onto the bridge to flirt with jim (affectionate) and spock (derogatory and bloody, there will be no survivors except for them, THEY'RE having a BLAST).

listen when the cards are down they will be thoughtful and worried and touch each other SO gently and fight over who gets to die for each other. all of that is the floor they're standing on. they KNOW that. but GOSH in the meantime they're BOTH having an absolute blast bullying the shit out of each other, bless <3

[gardenofnoah]

katsuki hates to be placated.

it stems from his childhood (because of course it does)—there was no getting through or around his abrasiveness, so the next best thing was to pin him with that tired smile. the look of resignation that was always the same, no matter who wore it. to agree to every retort, even if he was being so horribly unreasonable. to choose—overtly—the quickest way to end the argument and flee from him.

he hated it. he hated it, and he could never understand—why was he the only one who ever had any backbone? he saw his challenges and rose to them every time. he came out on top, every time. it wasn’t as if he was being purposefully combative. he just…didn’t know how else to be.

to finally understand that he himself was the challenge, and one not worth seeing through—well.

that just hurt.

so he did the only thing a child so young could think to do—he became more. more volatile, more prone to outbursts. more unpredictable and, looking back on it now, scary. but that was what made sense to him—if he was made to see those barely-veiled expressions of intolerance either way—he’d at least have control over why.

as an adult, he has a better grasp on himself and his emotions, but he wouldn’t be katsuki without that hair trigger temper and his smart ass mouth. and he feels lucky—really lucky—that he has you, because you aren’t afraid of his challenge. you meet him head on and you give it right back.

so he can’t understand why you’re standing in front of him—not even looking at him—wearing that same, appeasing grimace tonight. he doesn’t understand, and suddenly he’s 11 again—small and made to feel so, so insignificant by the way you sigh like you can’t bear to speak another word to him. by the way your lips can barely turn up at the corners, and your strained little “nothing, kat” when he asks you what your problem is.

he had only answered your questions. it might’ve been the case that his answers came through gritted teeth as he heaved himself through the door to your home. it might be true that the adrenaline from his shift still pumping hard through his veins had him a little on edge, still feeling vigilant for any outward threat. and the way you’re postured away from him, like you can’t stand another second in the same room with him, feels as threatening as any villain.

“so why the fuck are you mad at me?”

you pause, hand halfway to dropping the tea bag into the steaming mug on the counter as you turn to look at him, expression both concerned and very tired.

“mad at you?”

he balks, because he hadn’t anticipated having to actually elaborate on that, and now he feels foolish as he tries to formulate his complaint. but the anger wins out, like it always does, and his explanation comes out clipped through gritted teeth.

“you’re fuckin’—turned away from me like i’m a little pest,” he seethes, only spurred on by the way you step forward, reaching for him like you mean to pacify a child mid-tantrum.

he doesn’t even see you anymore, not really—just every other face projected over yours, until he sees red. it’s always the same—no matter how hard he tries, he is too much—

“y’think i can’t tell how bad you don’t want to be here right now? i can practically hear ya thinking of all the ways to leave this—”

“katsuki.”

you’re facing him fully now, arms crossed over your chest with a look that can only be interpreted as one of annoyance, aimed right at him.

and that gives him pause, because at least you’re honest. he just…doesn’t know what to do with that.

“what on earth are you talking about?”

and of course he can’t say it. he tries to deflect, because the walls close in and the only way out is to steamroll over you. “you—you—”

and he just wishes you’d cut him off—tell him some horrible and likely true thing about himself so he can let go of all of the venom he’s been carrying around for over a decade—but instead you wait for him to tell you what he’s thinking. he can’t bear to tell you that the only thing in his head right now is his fear.

fear that he’s too much for you, too.

“you’re actin’ like you don’t want to talk to me,” he grits out, mirroring your posture with a huff and glaring at the tile by your feet. it sounds childish when it leaves him, like he ought to have stomped his foot to end the sentence, and the shame curls up in his chest.

you’re silent for what feels like an eternity. he feels the anger burn him up when he hears you snort.

before he can snap at you, you’re wrapped around his midsection. he wants to thrash until you let go, but he’s subdued in a way that feels different. even so, his petulance remains, and he holds his arms out from his sides like you’ve got fleas.

“i’m not mad at you, you big baby,” you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice, even muffled by his costume. “i’m just tired, kat. i was like, 99% asleep until a minute ago. i thought we were just gonna go to bed. ”

he feels himself fight against the way he wants to deflate at your words, and this time the anger is only directed at himself. he doesn’t understand why everything has to feel so fucking hard. why every tiny shift in your body language has him feeling nauseous, or why his mind drops him at the worst case scenario and leaves him there, stranded.

“i don’t want to leave,” you answer his earlier comment, head butting him lightly in the sternum. he feels no control over his arms when they loop around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“it’s 1am and i want to sleep,” you look up to shoot him a pointed glare, but there’s no real heat behind it, “so can you shower so we can do that?”

he can only blink at you. after a long moment, your words filter down far enough for him to understand.

“i—uh. yeah.”

your lips twitch up at the corners as you pull away from him. he feels so raw that he’s unable to move, unsure how to proceed and unwilling to let you out of his sight in case it’ll be the last time he sees you.

“go on,” you say, expression softer, “i’ll be in bed when you’re done. maybe i’ll cuddle you if you’re done yelling at me.”

“‘m sorry,” he can’t manage anything louder than a whisper, and when you reach out to rest your palm over his heart, it’s far more painful than any withdrawal could have been.

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“…okay.”

[kennahjune]

My favorite Steve headcannon is him liking all kinds of music.

He doesn’t really care what it is— and it’s not that weird “music is music” mindset. He just likes all music. Metal, Punk, Pop, Rock, Country, shit even nursery rhymes are fine.

He’ll be listening to Christmas music in July without realizing just cause he likes the song.

This is my favorite headcannon for modern AUs cause it’s more like— idk “acceptable” to like more than one kind of music cause people are less close-minded than in the 80s.

But when applying it to a cannon-divergent AU that’s still in the same timeline, i like to make it come with a bit of hurt/comfort.

Especially steddie hurt/comfort.

Where Eddie’s Munson Doctrine gets in the way in more ways than one and where he thinks he’s teasing Steve in playful banter about his music choices he’s actually making Steve kind of hate himself.

And obviously it’s a miscommunication on both ends (Steve doesn’t know how to tell people “no” and “stop” half the time and lord forbid he opens up about his /feelings/). But neither really know that until Steve’s pulling away and Eddie’s angry that he’s pulling away and they hash it out or smth.

Idk where I was going with this lol

[marmastry]

Agent 3s

[ghouljams]

THAT

the last tag

the # its not what Ghost needs at least

does Ghost ever tell Die that ? how does Die feel about it ? in your opinion, what *does* our Ghostie boy need ?

This is just my opinion and character analysis but what Ghost needs is a safe harbor, someone that he doesn't have to be Ghost with. What Hell thinks he needs is another weapon in his arsenal, and someone to cover his back(because the man is imho probably not taking great care of himself).

Die is a great compliment to Ghost, she's vicious, tactically smart, and enjoys her work. She's not, however, a good compliment to Simon; a man who's already gone through hell and doesn't need or want the reminder. A man who I think holds a lot of complex feelings over the man that he's become as Ghost, and who is desperately clinging to the idea that he's doing evil for the greater good.

Ghost is avoiding you. Which is a real testament to his abilities if you’re being honest. You’re quite literally tied to his soul and somehow he’s still managing to keep you from catching him. You thought things were going well. You finally got a decent meal, Ghost got to let out some of the meaner thoughts he’s had about you --you’re not examining that-- and everything should be totally good. Peachy even. So why the hell is your lieutenant dismissing you and brushing you off at every turn. You can’t even creep into his thoughts, he’s shut up tighter than a vault. 

Soap catches Ghost's arm in the gym, "You seen Die, I had a question."

"Haven't seen 'er all morning." Ghost tells him evenly.

"Liar," You whisper in his ear. He swats at you, smacking your arm where you're hanging on his shoulders. You know he prefers not having you draw attention, but it's a small team. It's not like they don't know about the devil literally on his shoulder by now.

"Right," Soap says, like he doesn't quite believe him, "That why your shadow's all-" He motions with his hand. Ghost glances over his shoulder, then at the ground, checking what Soap means. You wave a hand, your shadow following the motion. Ghost groans.

"Alright off of me, go on." He shrugs his shoulders and you drop back into his shadow with a pout.

“What’s your question?” You pull yourself up from the darkness, sitting on the edge and trying to give Ghost the same cold shoulder.

“How do I get one o’ ya’?” Soap asks. That’s an easy one, even if it is outside of your jurisdiction.

“You don’t,” Ghost cuts in before you can say anything. You turn quickly to face him and he’s not even looking at you, “Die, dismissed.” You open your mouth to say something and he jerks his head to glare at you. Soap looks between the two of you as you finally pull yourself fully from his shadow. Fine. You’ll find something more fun to do than sit around waiting to get a crumb of conversation. You can ignore Ghost just as well as he ignores you.

Except that you can’t. The problem with being bound to someone’s soul is you sort of can’t turn off your connection to them. You’re never off of alert, never not keyed in to Ghost’s heart rate, to his adrenaline, to the sound of his voice. Always prepared to respond to any stimulus or order. It feels unnatural even being just outside the room.

You settle leaning against the wall by the door. Your anxiety and instincts clash, your fingers twisting the fabric of your skirt unsure what to do besides wait to be called on. You don’t know how humans function without each other.

“You don’t want a demon Johnny.” Ghost’s voice filters through everything, “You’re a good man, don’t be so quick to try and give that up.”

There’s a short lived silence as Soap responds.

“I’m not, and that- She’s a bloody testament to it. I can’t even touch her without-” He cuts himself off, unwilling to say it and give the feeling name. But you can feel it, his spike of anxiety, the anger and bitter sadness that rolls through your charge. Then disgust, and suddenly you know why he’s been avoiding you before Ghost can even say it. You represent everything he’s been made into, all the violence brought against him, being forced to laugh at death, to live with death, to claw his way out of a grave to something almost resembling a life. Yet here you are holding the last nail in the coffin of his humanity.

“What else am I supposed to think? You want to know how you get a demon?” Simon takes a shaky breath, you cover your ears even though you know it won’t do any good, “You become such a monster that Hell sends someone to keep an eye on you. So, don’t tell me you want one of those things.”

There’s a commotion from behind the doors, footsteps storming your way. You fix your face, quell your emotions, before the door opens and Ghost comes out. Soap’s still talking, hot on his tail, looking upset.

“-say that Ghost. You think Gaz and Price-” He spots you and stops. You know what he was going to ask, you think it’s nice that he’s so kind. Kind enough to try and spare your feelings. Feelings you don’t have. You’re graded for combat. You’re just another weapon in a vast arsenal. Cold, unfeeling, inhuman. You’re supposed to be, anyway.

[writerof-thewoods]

A Weapon? A Monster? A Child.

Regressor! Alastor and CG! Rosie <3 Word count: 2193

He could hear them. Their mocking, jeering voices at his new found problem. The great, terrifying Alastor a puppet to something else, how little in control he was of anything. He couldn’t shake them out of his head. Every second filled with their reverberating laughs and yet, Alastor could do nothing but endure. 

He winced as he tried to stand, hands shaking and bones weary. Oh how cowardly he must’ve looked, barely able to stand on his two feet, hiding behind his shadow as he retreats to the one place he found solace. His radio tower. 

And not even that eased his ever growing fear. Whatever was left of it stood before him, a grim sight that made his already unwell state much, much worse. It served as another reminder of his failure. To see the very thing that kept him sane all these years defiled in such a manner. He truly had no idea how to react. Part of him wanted to go stark raving mad, and the other….

He slowly, unsteadily made his way through the wreckage that lay in front of it, his body ringing with each sting that came. It also didn’t help that he was regretfully known as something he hated to his core. He was a little. Such a pathetic aspect that he, much to his gratitude, managed to keep hidden from everyone else. Oftentimes even himself until it caught up to him once in a blue moon. No one knew and no one would know if he could keep it up the way he had the past few decades. However, that seemed much more unlikely given his current situation. The attack was so easily avoidable and yet, he still got hurt. He could’ve been killed and how he so narrowly avoided Adam’s final blow was beyond him. Now, he would’ve actually preferred it because then he wouldn’t have to face the aftermath that he knew was yet to come. 

It terrified him. To know of how much weakness he was showing. He could only hope, no, beg that no one saw and once he made his way inside, he exhaled in relief. He was alone. A disgrace, but alone nonetheless. Despite his rather embarrassing secret, he willed himself not to let it affect him. Not the fact that a huge chunk of his prized room was missing altogether, let alone the mess that was the inside of it. Reaching his table, the pain stumped him once again, making him fall to his knees. His smile wavered and he bared his teeth as he found himself underneath it. Sighing strained in relief, the safety of the confined space only worsened his struggle between headspaces. 

On one hand he just wouldn’t allow himself to, and on the other, he had no control over it. His body ached inside and out, his heart panged heavily on the fact that he was losing it, and underneath all of it, he felt so…scared. He was a fawn caught in a wolf’s den. A little boy hiding from the bastard he shared a bloodline with, hoping to God he wouldn’t find him. A cornered animal and with that, it was all too much. 

He couldn’t handle it anymore. 

He slipped. 

********

The fight may have been over, but that didn’t stop Rosie from feeling, at the very least, a little concerned. It wasn’t just the fear of losing everything she’d known that ailed her. It was losing the people she cared about. Really, the one person she cared about the most. And since it was finished, she hadn’t seen him at all, not even once and it was starting to worry her. 

Alastor was Rosie’s best friend, and she just couldn’t bear to lose him. Not like that. 

Looking over at the celebration behind her, she smiled fondly. She couldn’t be more happy for the unlikely group of residents, despite hardly knowing most of them. Charlie was such a darling, how could she not? Even as they stood under a building in desperate need of fixing, she still looked so happy. So proud. It was…admirable, to say the least. To watch her and her friends be so passionate about their achievements warmed her heart. 

Still though, as she turned her head in thought, something was…off. She could sense it even if she wasn’t sure what exactly “it” was. 

Speaking of which, there was one thing missing from such a display of victor, or rather, one person. Someone who would be even more supportive than she was. Where was Alastor? 

The rest seemed to pick up on that and Charlie asked the same thing as well. The rest kind of shrugged with mutterings of “I’m not sure” or “Last I saw was during the fight, so it beats me.” That didn’t help much in easing her anxieties. As they began looking, some albeit more willingly than the rest, she sighed. Her eyebrow raised, she took off to look for the demon. After all, she of all people ought to know where he was. 

She walked up to the one place she figured he might be. Everywhere else came out to be unsuccessful, so there was really one place left. Holding the hem of her skirt as she climbed up the stairs, Rosie walked curiously to the radio tower. Nothing out of the ordinary there, disregarding the very obvious debris. She couldn’t see anything, but if her nose and ears served her right, something was very, very wrong. The scent of blood seeped from beyond the door making her feel oddly nauseous for once, her stomach churning at what could be waiting for her. Thinking better of it, she steeled herself and went inside. 

The blood trailed over to his desk at a concerning amount. Stepping over the rubble, her gut wrenching at the sight of something he cared so much about ruined without a second thought, she called out gently. 

“Alastor? Sweetie, you in here?” She craned her neck, unable to see anything. “Everyone’s been looking for you.” She stepped carefully, avoiding the coat rack that now lay on the floor just waiting to trip some unsuspecting person. Suddenly, a low sound of strained breathing rumbled from his form, an ear perking up at hearing her come in. That gave it away to Rosie as she approached the desk even closer, her feet just inches away from his crumpled body. 

And that’s when he found him.

Crouching down, she saw a not quite unfamiliar sight. The all powerful Radio Demon’s smile gone, eyes squeezed shut as he lay curled into himself. Rosie knew what this was, she’d seen it before, but definitely not to this extent. Her head cocked to the side, she whispered. 

“Alastor..?”

Eyes nervously squeezed open, big, wide, doe eyes pouring into her as they tried to hide his fear to no avail. Glassy from tears hiding behind him that threatened to pour at any moment. Rosie’s heart squeezed in a way it very rarely did. Not unfamiliar to her, but the circumstances she found him certainly were. At the sight of her, the little shuddered, a pleading look on his face. 

“Oh..” Rosie gasped, crawling to his side and reaching out her hand, holding the side of his head. “You poor dear, is this where you’ve been all this time?” 

He didn’t have the words to respond, flinching slightly at her touch. Strained, he nodded his head slowly, uncurling himself slightly at her asking to see what happened. God, it hurt so much. He just wanted his mama, even though he knew she wouldn’t come. He sniffled, choking back a sob that escaped his throat. 

Rosie clicked her tongue and moved closer to pull him into her arms. Seeing him like this threatened to make her cry as well, wishing so desperately she would've come sooner. How long had he been like this? So scared and in pain. Part of her wanted to shake her head at his stubbornness, but she knew it wasn’t the time. The fawn just about broke as he pressed his head into her chest, giving in to the pain that rang throughout his body. His broken cries barely muffled by his best friend’s vise-like hold. 

“Oh my sweet thing, it’s alright.” She whispered, moving instinctively to brush the hair out of his face and pulling a handkerchief from her skirt. “I got you. Why don’t we get you out of here, hmm?” She tilted her head down at him, feeling him nod against her chest. “Now just hold still for a moment. It’s gonna hurt a little, but it’ll be quick, okay? Take a deep breath.” She inhaled deeply, crawling out from under the table and moving to pick him up. 

Alastor groaned at the motion, wincing as Rosie avoided his injuries and lifted him into her arms like a bride. Normally he would’ve laughed at such a feat of strength, the thought distracting him from the sharp jolt in his wounds. “There we go, you did a swell job baby! Such a brave boy.” Rosie walked out of the room, making a mental note to clean up his blood from the floor later and thought about where to go from here. She certainly didn’t want to leave him here, nor draw any attention from the others. There was always her emporium, even if it was a bit away. Yeah, that was a good idea. He’d be less...manic later on without anyone else knowing. And she was more certain he’d be safe there. That was all that mattered. 

*******

The baby sat on the toilet, curiously watching as Rosie rolled up her sleeves and went to work taking off his jacket. It was clear that Alastor needed stitches at the very least, if not something more later on. He didn’t seem to have any more serious injuries underneath, but it still didn’t look good. The other threaded the needle after cleaning him up the best she could and knelt down in front of him.

“Okay kiddo, now you’re not gonna like this, but I gotta do it. So take a big breath for me and we’ll get this over with, sound good?” Rosie admitted sympathetically. Piecing the skin together, she went to work suturing him up. Funnily enough, she’d done this plenty of times before, so really, it went by much quicker than she anticipated. 

“And...done! Look at you, being such a strong boy. That’s my Alastor alright! Isn’t it?” She cooed, laughing when he bleated happily in response. It wasn’t a common noise, however, it was one characteristic of his deerish nature he didn’t seem to despise. It was…well it was pretty damn cute. To the both of them and especially Rosie. 

Once again she picked him up and carried him into the room. Judging by his increasingly longer yawns, she knew he had to be exhausted. The day didn’t even feel like just a day and for Alastor it must’ve felt like a week at the very least. Discarding his tattered suit, she looked through her chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of fuzzy pajamas. Rosie pulled them over his worn-out, shockingly lanky frame; he looked as if he hadn’t eaten in days. She’d have to do something about that later, she thought. Ruffling the top of his head, she watched as the little one rubbed tiredly at his ever-so drooping eyes and walked across the room to turn out the light. And following that, she turned on the phonograph to its lowest volume. A familiar lullaby flooding the air. He whined slightly at her walking away, earning him a little tease from the other. “Hey now, I’m gonna be right back. I’m not going anywhere.” She sat next to him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders. “See?”

The fawn turned to look at the woman and blinked slowly. Not quite registering her reappearance until he felt her hand. Alastor huffed, tiredness clouding his mind and tucked his head into her shoulder. Rosie moved to pull the covers down and laid him down underneath them. Dried tear tracks stained his cheeks and right as he was about to fall asleep he turned his head up at her. The same pleading gaze as before, asking her not to leave him. Her hand to her chest, she drew in a breath. 

“Of course my little fawn, I’ll stay. Is that what you’re asking?” Alastor cooed, the smaller holding out his hand. Rosie smiled and took his hand in hers, running her thumb across the top of his fingers. She hummed alongside the phonograph and watched as he drifted off to sleep, breathing lightly as if the day had never even happened. Rosie kissed the top of his forehead, lingering for a minute more before whispering. 

“Sweet dreams darling, I’ll be here when you wake up. Nothing can hurt you now, I promise.” 

Having it all over with, Rosie was happy. It may take time for it all to heal, but at least in the moment, her friend, her little fawn was okay and for her, that was enough.

[skyyworker]

when ahsoka leaves the temple and anakin runs after her, you can see obi-wan starting to follow them as well but he's stopped by master plo's hand on his shoulder.

here's this: anakin finding his way back to his quarters in the temple, tears welling in his eyes, he can barely walk straight, but once he gets there he finds obi-wan already waiting for him. and they've never been too open about physical contact with one another but obi-wan opens his arms and all anakin can do is choke out his master's name and throw himself into his arms, sobbing and finally letting his emotions flow out into the force, but especially into their bond

[roomy-ghosted]

My feelings towards ao3 this morning.

[mothfables]

It happened in a crash of thunder.

They were making their way along one of the roads in an unclaimed Hyrule when the storm hit. It had been looming all day, making itself known in tight scars and aching joints.

They had just come upon a rocky cliff when it happened. Thunder boomed out of nowhere, making everyone jump. The rain came a moment later, bringing with it a chill that had some of them gasping.

“Let’s find shelter!” Warriors called. There were enthusiastic sounds of agreement.

Twilight pulled the hood of his pelt over his head only to pause. Something felt off. He did a quick headcount. All of the usual troublemakers - Wild, Hyrule, and Wind - were ahead, eagerly searching for some place to take shelter from the rain. The rest were trudging along as well as they could.

Everything seemed fine. He continued walking.

…Wait. Someone was missing.

The rancher stopped in his tracks, counting again. Wind, Wild, Hyrule- that was three. Time and Wars in their armor, glancing worriedly up at the clouds, five. Sky holding his sailcloth over an unhappy Four. Seven. He made eight.

…Where was the Vet?

Twilight glanced around, trying to spot his missing brother. He turned around and-

Oh.

Legend stood frozen in the middle of the road, hands clasped over his ears and eyes shut tight. Thunder boomed again and Twilight watched as he flinched, curling into himself with a barely-audible whimper.

Oh no.

It was no secret among them that Legend hated storms. Twilight hurried back towards his brother, calling out to try and get his attention.

There was no reaction. Legend remained frozen.

“Lege, hey, lookit me.” Twilight knelt down before him, noting with mounting worry how pale he was, just how tightly he curled into himself. Thunder rolled again and Legend flinched hard with a choked sound.

Twilight frowned. Calling his brother’s name again produced no result; Legend stayed unresponsive. A fourth bout of thunder had him shuddering and Twilight biting his lip.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He hesitated to touch him, but calling his name wasn’t working. Legend hated being touched without warning, but Twilight didn’t see any other way to get him out of the rain. With a sigh, he shrugged his pelt off and draped it over the smaller boy, making sure the hood was securely over his head before scooping him up and hurrying back to the rest of their brothers.

The Captain was the first to notice as he approached, his brow furrowing at the shaking form held close in protective arms. He sent Twilight a concerned look which only deepened when Legend let out a small, scared noise.

“We needta git ‘im outta the rain,” Twilight said. Wars nodded and was about to reply when he was interrupted by a shout.

“We found a cave! It looks like there’s enough room fer all of us!”

Wind waved at them from a large opening in the cliffside. The heroes still on the road hurried over, grateful for the chance to get out of the storm.

Inside the cave was thankfully dry and large enough for them to spread out and have their own space. The roof was even high enough they could have a fire without having to worry about the smoke.

Twilight moved to the back of the cave, as far from the entrance as he could. The sound of rain was quieter there, and he felt Legend’s trembling lessen a tiny bit.

“Shh, shh. I gotcha,” he murmured. “Let’s getcha outta those wet clothes, yeah?”

Legend whimpered and clung weakly to him as Twilight tried to gently wrangle him out of his wet things. Warriors came over after changing out of his own soaked clothes to help. Together they managed to get Legend out of his wet clothes and into something soft and dry.

The younger boy didn’t resist, only pressing closer as thunder echoed through the cave. Twilight and Wars shared a look over his head.

“Reckon he’s small, if he’s actin’ like this,” the rancher muttered lowly.

Wars sighed. “Yes, I think that might be the case. Do you think it was the storm?”

“I dunno what else it could been. ‘e was fine earlier, just grouchy cause his scars were actin’ up.”

Wars nodded before crouching down to be level with Legend and speaking softly. “Hey, bud. Are you feeling small right now?”

A muffled whine was his answer and he exchanged another glance with Twilight.

“Do you want me to hold you while Twilight gets changed? You can go right back when he’s done if you want.”

Legend didn’t respond, instead pressing even closer to Twilight as his right hand drifted towards his mouth. Warriors was quick to catch it, rubbing gentle circles into his palm in apology when Legend made an unhappy noise.

“I know, bud, I know. But Twi’s gotta get out of his wet clothes too. Come here.” He gathered Legend into his arms before shuffling around to sit against the wall with him in his lap.

He held his little brother, still rubbing circles into his hands, as he watched the rest of them work to make themselves comfortable to wait out the storm. Wild had managed to get a fire going and was in the process of preparing dinner. Four was furiously toweling himself dry while Wind went around gathering everyone’s bedding, most likely with the intention to make a nest for them all to cuddle in later.

Things had just gotten to a point where they were calm and relaxed when the weather took a turn for the worse.

Lightning flashed, painting the world a blinding white, followed by the loudest clap of thunder yet.

Legend jolted from his place against Warriors’ chest with a cry. Wars managed to catch him before he fell, wrapping his arms around him securely. Legend let him, staring into nothing for a long moment before he burst into tears.

He wailed, shoving his face into Wars’ chest to hide from the storm raging outside. His brother held him close, covering long ears and rocking side to side in an effort to calm him. Soft humming filled the air, a welcome distraction from the dull roar of rain outside their shelter.

It took time but eventually Legend’s tears slowed. Wars ran a soothing hand through his hair as he hiccuped, letting go of the tight grip he had on the older hero’s shirt to rub at red eyes. The captain gently wiped the tears from pale cheeks before pressing a kiss to his brow.

Wet violet eyes peeked up at him from behind damp hair. Wars smiled and tucked a lock behind one of those long ears. Legend sniffled and moved to nuzzle against his neck. He let him, used to the other boy’s way of seeking comfort.

“You feeling a little better, honeybun?”

A small nod against his collarbone. Wars leaned his head against Legend’s, earning a sigh.

“I bet yer tired, huh, kit?” Twilight murmured, laying a hand against Legend’s back. “Let’s git ourselves t’bed, yeah? Wind’s got a nice comfy nest built fer all’a us.”

There was a beat, then a tiny “…okay.”

“That’s th’ spirit. Awright, let’s go!” Twilight helped Wars make sure he had Legend in a secure grip before standing. Then they made their way over to where the Chain was waiting in the aforementioned nest. Wild was the only one missing, still working on dinner.

Wars settled down near the middle, Legend curled in his lap. Sky crawled over with a blanket and tucked him in with a smile. Then he took Legend’s face in his hands and pressed several kisses to his cheeks with exaggerated ‘muah!’ sounds. Legend gave a wet giggle at the affection.

Sky beamed. “There’s my little bird! Are you feeling better, baby?”

Legend nodded before his face scrunched and he yawned, nose quivering. He laid his head on Wars’ shoulder again with a content sigh.

“You can go to sleep if you want, honeybun. It’s alright.” The rain had died down a fair bit, a quiet patter on the cliff outside. Wild finished dinner and came over, plates in hand, and smiled when he saw Legend cuddled up to the captain.

“I’ll save his for later,” he whispered.

“Thanks, champion. I know he’ll appreciate it.”

Warriors began running a hand through Legend’s hair, feeling the boy in his lap relax at the soothing motions. He leaned more and more heavily into the captain, one hand grasping loosely at Wars’ shirt while the other rested under his chin. A moment later tiny squeaking snores sounded.

Sky cooed. The other heroes exchanged adoring smiles at the sight.

“Alright, that’s bedtime for us, I think,” Wars whispered. “Sleep well, everyone. See you all tomorrow.”

With that, he carefully moved to lay down, Legend still wrapped in his arms and snoring quietly. He felt more than saw someone lay a blanket over him, his own eyes already drifting shut from the assurance of safety and family.

“Goodnight, captain,” was the last thing he heard before he let sleep embrace him.

[hanniballecterslover]

I Love to Love You - Hannigram Age Regression fic.

Will Graham has always struggled with coping with being on the field. He’s always been plagued by horrible memories due to his line of work. He needs a way to cope and fast.

Luckily, Doctor Hannibal Lecter has the perfect form of therapy for him! Hopefully he’ll be able to sort out some of Will’s ever present parental issues while he’s at it.

Or;

Hannigram SFW age regression fic that is entirely self-indulgent. Very fluffy in future chapters!

———

please give this fic some love! it’s got 4 more chapters already written and ready to post so if you guys could encourage me to get them out there that’d be lovely. I’m so excited to be sharing it finally!!!

[crackedduck]

Still us, just different.

little! kiara

caregiver! rafe

things have happened between them, things neither of them could change. things were t the same as when they started, but maybe with some nurturing, they could be happy again.

<<•>>

The worst part about Singh locking her in a room with Rafe Cameron was probably the fact that she was locked in a room with Rafe Cameron.

Kiara wasn't a fearful girl; she had guts and did whatever it takes to keep her friends safe, happy, and healthy. The only difference between her current situation and others she has been in would be the idea that she is pretty much completely alone. She wasn't with her friends or anyone who cared about her; she was with a psychopathic murderer with a bad temper and an attitude that scared the part of her she hid so well.

Even scarier than that, she knew she was more exposed than she was used to feeling. Rafe knew her; he knew her better than either of them ever let on. Kiara's freshman year was a blur for everyone, but there's parts neither of them could forget. When Sarah and Kiara were best friends and hung out every weekend, they therefore hung out with Rafe occasionally, too. Kiara couldn't tell anyone how things progressed into what they were when her friendship with Sarah ended, mostly because she didn't understand it herself.

Whatever happened between Rafe and Kiara wasn't your average relationship between an older brother and his little sister's best friend... no, everything was always more complicated than that. Even so, Kiara remembered that day like it was yesterday, stained and engraved into the back of her mind no matter how hard she tried to erase it.

  ( She clutched her tiny green turtle stuffie into her chest tightly. As silly as one might think it was for a freshman to keep a stuffed animal on her, she did it anyway. She never was average, and Sarah told her it was cute. Rain poured over her, soaking her curls down so they plastered against her head and face, causing the little bits of mascara she had applied earlier that morning to slide down her face in chunks and streaks.

  While Sarah accepted Kiara with open arms, the other kids at the Kook Academy weren't as friendly. It seemed to her that every little move she made was wrong; if she talked about surfing she was laughed at and if she talked about animals or conservation she was called a nerd. She didn't wear the expensive makeup the other girls wore or have any interest in the tight skirts and shirts. Instead she dressed how she always did; mismatching tri colored pants with a white tank top with jewelry that matched.

   Kiara had only ended up in the rain with a mix of salty tears and rainwater dripping from her cheeks after being bombarded by some of the kook boys on her way out of school. Despite it being that those same boys had teased her that same day in class, their intentions were clearly less than platonic. With four of them and one of her, she barely managed to wriggled away and stuff herself under the football bleachers where none of them could see her. Her day was more than rough; she was exhausted and just about ready to slit her wrists without the rain and asshole boys harassing her, meaning she was really ready by now.

   Kiara felt fuzzy in her chest and her head as she sat in the rain, only partially covered from the downpour. It was nearly a normal feeling for her by now; the fuzzy and groggy feeling that accompanied her every time things just became a little too much - or a lot too much. She honestly couldn't remember when she slipped the small turtle from her bag, but she figured nobody would notice anyway. All of the other students were long gone by now, it was just her left under the bleachers. Or so she thought.

  In the distance, a sopping wet Rafe Cameron slushed his wet feet miserably through the wet grass of the football field. He needed his bag from the locker room all the way at the bottom of the field, and he was honestly questioning saying 'fuck it' and going home without it instead. If he hadn't got caught up with that stupid teacher he would've made it out before the rain anyway.

  As he stomped on, Rafe stopped in his tracks. Underneath the bleachers he could just barely make out a slumped figure with soaked curly hair and an equally as soaked shoulder bag beside them. Rafe could recognize those features anywhere. Changing his direction, Rafe continued to slosh through the grass, this time towards the bleachers instead.

  Kiara couldn't hear Rafe's footsteps until he was just a few steps away, whether that be because of the sound the rain made as it pinged against the bleachers, or the small sounds her own pitiful cries made. She looked up fearfully when she heard them, letting out a breath as she recognized the figure as her best friend's older brother. She was grateful for someone she knew.

   "Kie?" Rafe questioned, crouching down besides the bleachers. Kiara pushed the little turtle into her lap in an attempt to hide it. It was to no avail, because Rafe saw it anyway. "Are you okay?"

  Kiara nodded quickly, trying to ignore the fuzz clouding her brain as she brought a hand up to pat down her ruined hair. She sniffled and it sounded embarrassingly loud. She flushed.

  Rafe brought his eyebrows together. He was observant; he noticed the tear stains that mixed with the dribbling rainwater and the smushed mascara under her eyes. He noticed the tremble to her lips and the shiver in her hands. He knew she was scared, and something else was up, too.

  Without a second thought, Rafe snuck under the bleachers to sit down beside her. She met his blue eyes with big doe eyes and Rafe felt the overwhelming urge to protect her and completely end whoever hurt her. He wanted to care for her, be her shelter.

  As he sat down, she subconsciously shifted closer to him like an injured puppy seeking comfort. He took that as an okay and slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her freezing body into his slightly warmer frame. He didn't know where this side of him came from, but while it was here, he just wanted to get her some place dry and warm before she caught a cold.

  "Hey, come with me. It's dry and warm in the locker rooms," Rafe offered, leaning back to meet her wide eyes. Kiara nodded, against any dignity she had left. Fuzzy- feeling Kiara was very different than normal, stubborn Kiara. In the presence of another, she was starting to wonder what the fuzzy feeling really was.

  Rafe shimmied out from under the bleachers, turning around only to see Kiara hadn't following suit. She watched quietly, tired and fuzzy, and cold with the strange urge to cling onto someone warm.

   "C'mon, Kie." Rafe coaxed her out, extending his right hand for her to grab onto. He watched her secure her turtle and her bag in one hand before shuffling out and grabbing onto Rafe's with the other. He smiled. "Good job."

   Kiara smiled too, in a childish way. Rafe felt proud that he made the sad girl smile.

   The older boy brought her to the locker room, immediately locating his bag and searching through it for a towel. He wrapped it around her shoulders once he'd found it, then went back to digging through all of his belongings for drier clothes for her to wear. The rain had slowed now, it shouldn't be stopping soon. If she changed he knew she wouldn't get soaked again.

  Once he found the clothes,  he handed them to her as well and showed her a private area where she could change. Rafe then drove her home and was greeted graciously by her parents and while they didn't know the entirety of her compromised state, they were worried when their little girl hadn't returned to school. They were beyond grateful she had a friend like Sarah, whose family accepted her as one of their own - and clearly Rafe had her back too. )

  Kiara fiddled with a tag on the bedsheets as the memories replayed in her head. There were so many more than just that first day, so many experiences and emotions that she had spent so long penning up and shoving down just for them to all resurface as soon as she was stuck in a room with him. She could feel that small part of herself that wanted to latch onto him and never let go; to be held and loved and for him to be the caregiver he was to her just one year ago. She wanted to trust him and let him be in control, but she couldn't. She was afraid of him. He had done horrible things, he had hurt her friends and stole from them all. He had shot Peterkin and allowed John B to take the fall. He wasn't trustworthy. She knew that. But she also still felt like she knew the real person he was underneath it all.

  "Do you still have him?"

   Kiara's eyes snapped up and locked with his. "Huh?"

   Rafe looked away, guilty with all of his actions, with everything that had happened in just one short year. "I meant Greenie. Do you still have him?"

  Kiara tinted pink at the mention of her favorite stuffed turtle from that very first day. Rafe had helped her name it: Greenie. She recognized that softness to his tone, a softness reserved just for her. Oh how she had missed that. "Yeah, I still have him."

  Kiara watched as Rafe started to pace a little, back and forth and in circles. She could read every behavior he had, and she knew he was guilty. Guilty and just as anxious as she was. She knew what he was going to say.

  "Kie, I really am sorry for everything. I will admit that, what I did to Sarah, what I- I tried to do, that was wrong." Kiara watched as Rafe's face scrunched up and a tear slid down his face. He gestured vaguely with his hands as he spoke, heavy emotion pouring from his voice. "She was family, I never should have touched her! I- I was wrong. I know that, alright? So you don't have to remind me."

   Rafe brought his hands up to cup his face as more tears dripped from his eyes to the floor. Kiara couldn't stand it, seeing him this way. She knew Rafe had a good soul, she knew him from before any of this happened. She knew he struggled with his father, she knew he was devoted to him in a scary way - his devotion without love was what ended him in this predicament in the first place.

  As tears welled in her own eyes, Kiara shifted off of the bed and shuffled over to Rafe. She figured he couldn't see her through his hands over his face, but she crashed forward and hugged him anyway. She clung to him like she did all of those times last year.

   It took Rafe a second to process Kiara's arms around him. He brought his hands away from his tear streaked face and after pausing for a second, wrapped them around Kiara's small frame and returned the hug. She basked in the way his arms fit around her, as if they were never separated and things between them never got rough. The feeling of love that didn't come from romance, but from two people wanting to keep the other safe.

   She snuggled her face into his chest and he hugged her tighter. She was tired; tired of fighting with her mental state and tired of fighting with the idea that she shouldn't enjoy Rafe's presence. The damage was already done, she already had an attachment to him and she knew him for who he really was. Kiara couldn't help but need him.

After a few moments of silence, Rafe spoke up, softer this time. "Will you give me a second chance? Please?"

Kiara nodded before she thought. More tears slipped down her cheeks, and even she didn't know why she was crying. She just felt like she needed to. And Rafe, he was glad she was letting herself cry, feeling the emotions he knows she tries to hide so often.

When she subconsciously shifted her weight into him, Rafe didn't hesitate to scoop her up and set her on the bed with ease. His troubled eyes met her wide ones, and it again was as if there was never a drift between them; they loved each other. He loved her in the way a father loves his own child and she adored him the way that child adores their father.

"I missed you." Kiara mumbled, taking her smaller fingers and using them to grasp onto his larger ones. Ever so gently, she played with his fingers in her grasp. He smiled at her fondly.

"I missed you even more, sweetheart. Now, when was the last time you slipped?" Rafe asked, a comforting amount of concern filling his voice. It wasn't so much as to make her feel bad, but just enough that she knew he really, genuinely cared.

Kiara did have to think for a moment. Throughout the past year, her regression had become a thing of the past. Without Rafe it never felt right, and after a while she stopped trying altogether. "Since you..."

Rafe caught her eyes and nodded so she knew he understood. He ran his large hand through her hair in a calming motion. "I figured so, anyway. No need to feel bad."

Kiara smiled the biggest smile she could muster (it was still pretty small, but even the effort was enough to make Rafe smile.)

Rafe crouched down in front of the bed to relieve his back from its hunched position. Looking into her small eyes, he swore to himself that he would not mess up again. He would not leave her alone again, and he certainly wouldn't risk her getting hurt because he's an idiot.

Kiara reached out to touch his nose, ripping him from his daze. "Nap?"

Rafe chuckled. "Sure, baby. We can nap. In the big bed?"

Kiara giggled and clapped her hands together tiredly. "Big bed!"

And Rafe knew he would get her out of that fortress safely, and that from now on he would protect her every chance he could.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

It's post-war. After a long road of rehabilitation, you live with Touya at the new Todoroki estate while he serves out the rest of his house arrest. It's a simple life. A tame life. And while your boyfriend seems like a caged tiger somedays, for the most part he seems to be adjusting to normality. If only to keep you by his side.

One day, you come home crying from a really shitty day. Maybe you got fired, or coworkers were mean, family was fighting, or just a general overload of stress...you take your pick. Either way, you try to hold it together so as not to worry him, but Touya knows all your tells by now. He follows you into the kitchen and won't let up until you're finally sobbing out every detail, ending with you as a sniffling, hiccuping mess.

Eventually, you purge out enough emotion to catch your breath. As you wipe your eyes, you're pleasantly surprised that he's been giving you such calm answers, without a single violent outburst in your defense. But then you finally look at him through your teary vision.

He's gripping the table so hard his knuckles are turning white. His jaw is clenched tight enough that you can see his stitches straining. It's cartoonish, really. Your hiccuping stutters to a stop.

Instead, they turn into laughter.

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows at you.

"You're trying so hard not to go out and burn all these people alive, huh?"

His jaw finally relaxes into an adorable pout. "...So what if I am? Isn't that what I'm s'posed to be doing?"

You wipe away the rest of your leaking face with your sleeve, a couple more quiet laughs sneaking from your throat, and move to peck him on the lips.

"I love you." You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face into the safe warmth of his chest. After a few moments, you feel his arm wrap around your back. He kisses the top of your head and whispers it back into your hair. That's still the only way he'll say it, like it's a secret he's still afraid to speak out loud.

"...I would kill them for you though. If you wanted."

You laugh again. You can't even scold him about it this time, it's too cute.

"I know," you say with a smile. "But don't."

You look up at him.

"All I need you to do is stay here with me."

[dacrekayd]

someone make a fic about eddie not trusting that steve is actually a good guy who wants to be friends (and more) and keeps being a dick to steve out of self preservation and no one noticing how much steve is hurting and how he’s slowly pulling away from them and retreating into himself bc he knew it he knew he wasn’t good enough he knew he’d never be good enough for anyone not his parents not nancy not his stupid high school friends and definitely not eddie fucking munson who looks at steve like he’s the scum at the bottom of his boot and calls him King Steve, and Your Highness in the most derogatory way he can manage but it’s never Just Steve and it makes steve feel so so small and he’s just so tired and emotionally rung bc he really liked eddie and he really thought they could’ve had something amazing and soft and sweet and he’s just so heartbroken that this amazing man hates him so goddamn much