#maybe with time as i get more of a grasp on whats expected with furry art I will fall into the same stress loop i do for my usual art

[sirfluffyknight]

Hi tumblr

I guess I'm a furry artist now

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I was reading a story recently where Stiles and the Sheriff were talking about the things that keep happening around them and the Sheriff said something like Stiles talks and acts like veteran soldiers do and after thinking about it that analogy does fit his character so well. It also made me really want to read more stories to do with that idea so I was wondering if you knew any?

Here's some where he has PTSD.

A Little Bit of Encourage-Mint by Mischief_x_Managed

(1/1 I 3,273 I Not Rated I No Pairing)

Stiles goes to a therapist who doesn't try to kill him. Surprisingly it works out well.

Dating and Mating Stiles Stilinski by 1Ginger1Keyboard

(4/? I 4,838 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek isn't used to feeling anything as deeply rooted as the feeling revolving around the hyper teen that goes by the name Stiles Stilinski. It takes Derek a while to wrestle these emotions into a form that allows him to decided he wants to pursue them. Yet, he's normally the one being chased, Derek has never had a problem getting peoples attention, he has a good body and charming looks, so he has to work out how to win the heart of the hyper teen. And to put it gently, Stiles has his very own courting ritual that is unlike any wolf or human ritual. It's just, neither of them knows that. To make it worse, the wolf under Derek's skin is growing impatient.

///What am I?/// by Nel_Lino

(1/? I 6,068 I Explicit I Scallison)

Stiles: Why haven't burnt alive? How could Derek die? Why do I care if he died? *** Scott: I need you to own me, now. Isaac: turn around, little whore. *** Danny: And if you want to try some more of that stuff we did, count on me. *** Young Derek: come here you little superhero! Mietek: I am not a superhero, I am special human!

Dreams Will Be Unified by SilentMagic

(4/? I 16,585 I Mature I Sterek)

When Stiles woke up for his eighteenth birthday, he was expecting a day of celebration and maybe a pack party. He was not expecting to wake up beneath the Nemeton, nor sprouting four furry paws in an alternate reality to learn what it means to be a Guardian. He really should clarify to the universe that he would like a break for at least a whole year before the next supernatural event comes his way.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 80,129 I Mature I Sterek)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(10/10 I 70,382 I Mature I Sterek)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

I'm not real. Am I? by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(64/64 I 127,977 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is not real. He's just a pretty form Stiles came up with. At least that's what Stiles keeps telling himself.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter

(15/15 I 234,195 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

Alpha, Mage, Pack by Foxfire2018

(48/? I 480,285 I Explicit I Sterek)

Set at the end of Season 2. Stiles was kidnapped and tortured for hours. Yet no one came for him. Hurt and cast out of the pack by people he thought cared for him, what is he to do? He finds himself accompanied by someone he never expected and someone he is eternally grateful for. Derek feels betrayed and foolish for what he allowed to happen. Out of anger and hurt he forced a valuable member he really started to care for out of his pack. With the pack scattered and people hurt, what will come of them? Will they bond together again in time for the next big bad?

AND

@neverdust suggested this one!

Play It Again by metisket

(3/3 I 53,206 I Teen I Sterek)

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

[craftyandy]

Art Review Part 23

The years are becoming a blur, even before the covid pandemic the days have overall felt like they come and go with little to remember them by. Really it’s because the current state of things in occurrence with my life is pretty good. In comparison at our lowest financially and emotionally, the year would be a lengthy series of unfortunate events. Something breaking or needing repair would be an upset. We could never enjoy ourselves without the upcoming work day casting a dreading shadow over us. If my current state of things is the peak then already I can go forward satisfied that I accomplished more then what was expected of me by the culture of the US society, religious teachings, and peers. Currently I have one rather large Ratchet and Clank commission to finish and then it’s a mostly strict focus on the kids book. I’ll be documenting the progress as much as I can. Through out the year I managed to put together a series of videos to try and advertise my CraftyArts channel more. I want to do more focused scripted commentary for my WeirdZoRs channel, in fact I recently wrote up a script for furry puritains that is getting re-worked in order to be more humorous then lecturing. I’d rather attempt something more challenging and be seen as a failure then to play things safe and easy. Having a full time job remains the main barrier to getting projects done. Gotta balance the work life, family and interests accordingly. It is painful, but it does mean some aspirations get st on the back burner permanently, or remain unfinished and never see the light of day. I have scripts that could fit on a shelf to gather dust and some videos unfinished taking up hard-drive space. I itch and scratch with anxiety over wanting to see ideas made and done. However I am in no position to have someone do work for me with merely a promise of future payment. I suppose the idea would be then to sell myself and my current skill. How? I don’t know, we’ll start by seeing how this self promotional pus goes once it is complete. This is all just a mere venting, by all accounts things are going better then I could ever hope for thanks to my two husbands and their efforts to keep me social and grounded in reality and have a grasp on the bigger picture. They understand none of this was ever for simply money, or fame but creation for creation sake and giving meaning to my life. maybe I’m the living example of why you should have a backup plan in place if doing entertainment in any form doesn’t work out, so be it. How many potential creators have we all seen drop off, give up, or cost themselves a career over poor judgment. All lack of recognition aside I feel pretty damn accomplished right now because fame and fortune was never the goal I was aiming for. Thank you to my supporters, family, and friends, without those attachments I wouldn’t find much passion in what I do either. Good luck in the new year everybody. CraftyArts www.youtube.com/c/craftyarts WeirdZoRs www.youtube.com/c/WeirdZoRs PAWS OFF www.youtube.com/channel/UCXzhzDaEUET1DFwLfyWlqSw Patreon https://www.patreon.com/craftyandy

Posted using PostyBirb

[blueparadis]

❝ IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME? ❞ + ft. Tokyo Revengers :: Black Dragons [Shinichiro, Wakasa, Benkei Takeomi, Inui, Kokonoi]

+cw : humour,fluff type : headcanons | scenarios | links section. +wc : 0.8k for each

+syn. : soft, magical moments, tender touches, little things that made you fall for them.

✥BLACK DRAGONS

∽Shinichiro : His eyes narrowed as he tried to read your thoughts.You nod your head in approval making his pitch black globes roll. As you tucked your hair behind your ears he lit a cigarette. You watched him close his eyes as he let out a puff. He offered you to take a puff making you ponder how on earth he's so easy to convince. Just a pouty face and your wish is granted. You took a puff & exhaled perfectly like he does. Shinichiro smiled with utmost surprise. What do you expect from a chainsmoker's much better half? . His expression made you so excited that you took another puff. He immediately rubs your back as your eyes swell with tears due to cough. "That's it ! I'll quit smoking." You scoff at his remark thinking as if that's gonna happen.

∽Wakasa : You're so embarrassed to accept it that Wakasa actually comes out of his shell to assure that it's gonna be just fine. As you made yourself comfortable in a seat just beside him he offers his hand. The lollipop slides across his lips as he waits for you to take his hand. You grasp his hands , head pounding at the thought that it's definitely gonna hurt. You squeal even before the tattoo artist touches your ear. Wakasa tightens his hold to reassure you with his bold presence yet to lazy to speak. As you two came out of the tattoo parlor, he casually puts his arms around your shoulders; plopping out the toffee he remarks, "next time, we are both gonna have one on our navel, cool? You always wanted one there, right?" You chuckled at him thinking how amazingly clueless he's about his tone of talk or maybe not.

∽Benkei : "Are you serious? You've never been to the Arcade?", Benkei's jaw drops as you assure him once more exclaiming proudly "Nope", nodding your head sideways. But he doesn't offer; he doesn't offer you to take into one since you might decline or you might not like his presence around you, atleast for the first time. "Will you take me?", you dropped the question making him beam a little. He agreed. He asked where you'd want to go to which you replied, "that arcade which was your first!" Benkei was pleased that memories, these little things make you happy too. God knows how many times he visited this very Arcade; Every nook and corner was known to him so there were times when he actually forgot he had someone with him. "Arashi, I've never been to a bar before", you complain as he walks beside you heading towards the exit. "Oh! Hell No. I'm not taking you to a bar" he said with furrowed eyebrows. The moment you were about to protect you two were interrupted by a staff. "Wait, I'll be right back". You wait outside the mall thinking how to convince him into your plea. Arcade wasn't boring, it was memorable and all you wanted was to make more memories with him. A soft, thing grazed your cheeks making you jump in surprise. As you turned around, Benkei exclaimed, "You won't get these in bar!" , holding two small, furry teddy bears in his broad grips.

∽Takeomi : "well, no because people would stare!", you tartly replied as he was still in a faze , digesting the fact that you've never rain-soaked. The sound of splattering raindrops upon the umbrella became more audible as you were close to his house. Ofcourse, he was holding the umbrella so you had carry the groceries. Just when you wanted to break the deafening silence Akashi took the bags from your hands by crouching a little. You were certainly taken aback by his behavior but didn't expect the next. He was standing afar under the umbrella while you were soaking in the downpours. "Nooo! I'll- interrupting your trail of talk he said, "People won't stare. I assure you that. Live a little." It wouldn't have mattered if you start protesting anyways because you're totally drenched by now. "Achoooo" and at the next moment Akashi's eyes narrowed as he said that he's gonna buy medicines, just in case. Since then, rainy days never felt so lonely to you.

∽Inui : "is it okay?" , you asked Inui. Inui who sure does like to spend time in bike shop but not when Draken isn't there. He nodded as you stepped towards him. Placing your hands on his shoulders you hopped onto a bike he just repaired. "So, before you hold me-" he paused turning slightly to take a look on your face. He started laughing instantly as he saw your teeth which was exposed to happiness at it's best. "Yeah, so before you hold me- you wrapped your arms around his belly as he continues "i didn't bath yesterday" and he started the bike instantly. "And don't try anything funny, we'll both die." He finally adds before moving with the air. You rested your chin on his shoulders saying, "Inui, You smell like engine oil !" Draken is gonna kill me he said accelerating faster. You squealed in excitement as his laughter echoed into your ears.

~Kokonoi : "Really, you've never got your nails done?", he asked as you stared at your hands curling them into fists so that it doesn't catch his eyes. "I can do it in my home- he cuts you off by exclaiming with an amusing tone ,"But you've never done it before. HaHahh! Ain't I right?" & sticks out his tongue just to get on your nerves. He knows you hate it yet can't help but to use it against you just to get a pout upon your face. "One more word and you've to take me to a Salon!" you say trying to make his taunts come to a fall. But he doesn't; he just found out one of your 'what'll people say' secrets and he sure was going to exploit it. He lurks his eyes through the screen of his phone. " Let's go!" , he said as he grabs your hand. In minutes, you were there in front of a Salon. "Yeah! not funny , I'm going home!" you said while he said the most unbelievable words that could ever come out of his mouth. "I'll do it with you !" That's how it ended. Same color yet so very foreign to each other. You looked at your painted fingers & jogged them up infront of his face while he does the same joining this merry façade. Giggles filled both of your lonely hearts until you ask innocently, "Where did you get the money?" to which he replied,"Just simple exchange of words."

[boydiisaster]

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

[shorkbrian]

This isn’t a request (or maybe it is) but would you ever consider writing a part 2 to that aizawa and shinsou family bonding fic👀 and do you have any plans to write more zuko?? Bc I didn’t really see him like that but after your mechanic fic I couldn’t get him off my mind for weeks.

Anyway I love all your fics!!! Thank you so much for writing them and sharing them with us<3

I have several requests for a continuation of that, so maybe!

As for Zuko, I rlly want to write more of him lol he’s just so inch resting.

Very awkward with interpersonal relationships, but has the ability to be suave if he’s not thinking too hard about it and just acting on impulse. Pre-redemption Zuko is entitled, has anger issues, no grasp on healthy boundaries, sadistic, a brat, etc etc.

Like you lose your dog, worried sick about the poor thing. You decide to put up posters around your dingy neighborhood, a picture and your phone number attached below.

Your mood improves when you get a text that night, as soon as you get home from putting up all the “missing” posters.

Hey.

Your dog is missing? I saw you putting up posters.

Immediately you respond, hope blooming.

Yes! Have you seen him? I’m really worried. Thanks for contacting me btw.

There’s a few moments of waiting until the stranger responds.

I’ve seen him around. You need someone to help you find him?

So the stranger doesn’t have your dog. It’s disappointing, but you probably shouldn’t have expected your puppy to be found within minutes of you putting up the posters.

If you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye out, that’d be wonderful. Thank you so much! I’m (Y/N).

I know.

Confusion furrows your brow before the next message dings through.

You put your name on the poster.

My names Zuko.

-----

A day passes without any news, then two. On the third day, “Zuko” texts you again.

Have you found your dog yet?

You tell him (you’re pretty sure it’s a guy) no, and the stranger gives you his condolences. Feeling a bit awkward, not sure if you should respond or let the conversation drop, you turn the questioning back to the stranger.

Do you live in this area?

Yeah. Down by the supermarket on 4th and Sinclair.

That makes sense - that’s one of the first places you’d put up a poster. No wonder this guy texted you so soon.

That’s a nice area. I’m closer to the park... I think my dog might’ve wandered off into there.

You should take some treats with you and walk through that area. Call his name maybe?

Yeah, maybe.

The more you thought about the suggestion, the more appealing it sounded. perhaps it would work? It was barely 4pm, still plenty of daylight left for you to walk around for a bit.

So that’s what you did, wandering through the park with a bag of treats, lowly calling your dog’s name as you kept a sharp eye out for anything furry.

There weren’t many people out, but the ones you did encounter barely paid you any attention.

Except for a man, seated on a bench, his eyes following your movements. It was creeping you out - no matter where you moved you felt the prickle on the back of your neck that someone was looking at you.

Maybe he was just curious as to why you were walking around with a bag of dog treats, a leash, but no dog.

You were paying more attention to scanning the underbrush than the stranger, so it made you jump when he cleared his throat a few steps behind you, having moved from the bench.

“Oh, Jesus Christ-” You whirled around, a hand on your chest as adrenaline surged through you.

The man frowned. “Sorry, wasn’t trying to scare you. Are you looking for your dog?” He looked... unique, a large, angry scar decorating the right side of his face, eye slitted and milky on that side, almost hidden by his shaggy black hair.

You nodded, and the man spoke again. “By any chance, is your name (Y/N)? I saw your poster.”

Perking up, you took a step forward. “Yes! Yeah, that’s me, have you seen my dog? Do you know where he is?”

The man shook his head, clearing his throat again. “No, uhm... I was the person who texted you - Zuko.”

Oh.

It felt a bit... odd, knowing that this man had texted you, sought you out, met you in the park that he suggested you go looking in. Was he stalking you? Or was he just trying to help you find your dog?

How were you supposed to respond to him? 

Zuko beat you to it. “I’ve been looking for him, no luck though. He seems like a good dog.”

“He is.” You agree. Your dog was the best, always made you feel safe whenever you went out for walks, guarded your apartment, stayed alert and ready while you slept. “Thank you for looking for him, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.”

More awkward silence.

Shifting your weight on your feet, you sealed up the bag of treats. “okay, um, well it’s getting dark, I think I’m going to head home now.”

“I can walk with you.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” You assured the strange man, flashing a smile. He was too... friendly for your taste. You weren’t sure you felt comfortable with him knowing where you lived.

When you got home, your phone dinged as you locked your door. it was Zuko.

Sorry for scaring you tonight. I didn’t think you’d actually go to the park. I like to sit there and feed the ducks, so I’ve seen you and your dog a couple of times. I’m not trying to be weird.

That was honestly almost kind of sweet. You could visualize it, the tall man sitting on the bench and throwing seeds to the ducks that lived in the park, minding his own business as people passed by.  Maybe the man was just a bit socially awkward? You could understand that. 

No worries. Nice meeting you!

-----

He kept texting you, checking in, asking about your dog, asking about you.

Zuko seemed like a nice guy, if not a little awkward. Maybe a little lonely, but wasn’t everyone?

You learned that he lived by himself, had moved here a couple years ago, and that he liked the town. Friendly people, good weather, nice shops and local stores.

Weeks had passed since your dog had gone missing, and you found yourself getting more and more sad, sinking into the feeling like goop.

And then Zuko texted.

You should come over.

Your mind raced - he wouldn’t be texting you unless it was important, it was nighttime, you had learned the man wasn’t overly fond of visitors.

Zuko? What’s up? Have you found my dog?

A pause, two minutes before his next text came through.

Just come over.

You huffed, frustrated, excited. 

Please just tell me, do you have my dog?

Five minutes of silence.

Yes.

-----

The excitement you felt was making you jittery, hands almost shaking as you climbed up the stairs to Zuko’s apartment.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. You thought he lived by the supermarket, and technically he did, but it was a ways away. Zuko lived in a run down, dingy complex a few streets over, and you tried not to judge, but it wasn’t exactly the most savory of neighborhoods.

Really, you weren’t super jazzed to be coming to his place, not so late at night, not alone. But he had found your dog, said he didn’t have a leash nor a way of getting him to you. Said he didn’t mind you coming over so late.

You didn’t feel comfortable, but it’d be okay. 

Except your dog was nowhere in sight when Zuko welcomed you inside.

It was dark, only the light of his laptop illuminating the small living space - a studio apartment.

“Zuko? Where’s-”

“Your dog’s probably been dead for weeks.”

You froze. 

“You’re focused on a lost cause. I don’t think he’s coming back.”

What’s going on? Why did he have you come-

“Zuko, you’re scaring me.”

The man in question is between you and the door - the door he’s just locked. Your heart starts to beat faster in your chest.

“I’ve watched you walk him every day for the past year, you always take the same route in the park. How have you not noticed me? It’s not like I’m trying  to avoid your attention. It’s insulting. Do you not like my scar? Is that why you always, always ignore me?”

His voice is level, but you can feel the irritation seeping from him, feel it infect you with fear.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking abo-”

“I’ve noticed. You’re very absentminded, aren’t you? Is that why you need a dog  with you to protect you? I could’ve snapped you up at anytime since he’s been gone.”

Zuko crossed his arms, leaned back against the door. You didn’t like this, didn’t like how dark it was, what Zuko was saying, how his one good eye was gazing at you with a smug aura.

“I really wasn’t going to even bother you. You’re just some pretty little eye candy I get to see everyday. But then you put up those posters, and your number and name were right there. Couldn’t stop myself.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Plus, you’re real easy.”

He hadn’t moved from the door, but now he straightened, rolling out his neck, taking a step towards you. “This’ll be fun. Hope you don’t scream too loud and get me another noise complaint.”

[hawksky]

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

<Hey assholes who let me go home on my own last night? Anyways good job I blacked out and I’m on Fushiguro’s fire escape! You are all absolutely useless to me I swear to god.>

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle

[animeomegas]

Hi I've never asked anything before sorry if this isn't anything you wanted you can ignore this if you want! How bout some saiki k family headcanons?

(Hello! I hope you enjoy~)

Kusuo – 2 children – son (omega), daughter(beta)

Kusuo isn’t really sure what to expect when having children because of his powers. I mean, he didn’t inherit them from anyone, but maybe his powers are some sort of mutation that can now be passed on genetically. What would happen if there was another person with his powers in the world? He’s understandably nervous about the whole situation.

His pregnancy seems mostly normal, at least in terms of the pup, as his powers do tend to just go a bit crazy towards the end. His labour was normal ish, I mean he stopped himself from feeling pain and healed himself as soon as he left but his pup seemed normal? I mean, Kusuo himself changed from female to male about three minutes after he’d been born and there was no sign of such powers with his son so?

And then his three-month-old son sets his crib on fire.

Turns out his powers can absolutely be passed on genetically. Except neither of his children are anywhere near as strong as he is, probably for the best.

Kusuo’s son is an omega, although that doesn’t mean much in a world where Kusuo has removed prejudice against omegas, and is also quite the arsonist. Before he started displaying such tendencies, it was up in the air about who would become a full stay-at-home parent, but once he starts burning everything he can get his hands on, Kusuo volunteers for the safety of the general public. At least the child is also fireproof? Kusuo’s son is the type that never stops laughing, and it’s quite jarring for Kusuo who is definitely the opposite, but laughing is a good sign that he’ll have a better adjusted life than Kusuo did, something he was very nervous about his children suffering through. He’s a very independent child who will try to run away and set things on fire if Kusuo isn’t watching him properly, but he only does it because he thinks it’s fun. Both of Kusuo’s parents dote on him constantly, with Kusuo’s father taking great pleasure in watching Kusuo deal with a son with powers, it feels like karma to him.

Kusuo’s son has to be homeschooled until he learns to get a solid grasp on his powers, which means his childhood was a little lonely, with no one but his family for company. Making friends with people his age was just too risky, but it really hurt Kusuo to have to say no to something like that. Thankfully, by high school, he’s all ready to head into a proper school.

It’s no surprise that he makes tons of friends immediately with his wicked sense of humour and gentle lean towards rule breaking. (Kusuo gets called into the school multiple times but as long as his son is studying and not hurting anyone, he doesn’t much care what he gets up to.) He is out of the house as much as possible, often at karaoke or hanging in the local park with his friends. He also develops a huge passion for ‘roughing it’ style activities like camping and hiking.

As an adult, Kusuo’s son stays in Tokyo most of the year working as a teacher surprisingly (pre-school teacher) and in the summers, he’s a leader at a summer camp. He can start a campfire in any situation and all the other people at the camp are just in awe of how he can start a fire with six wet twigs and a pinecone, but he never reveals his secret 😉As you could probably tell, Kusuo’s son loves kids and ends up having four of his own (thankfully all lacking in destructive fire powers.)

Kusuo’s beta daughter is born about seven years after his son, mainly because he wanted to wait until his son could understand why using his fire powers was dangerous because the likelihood of his daughter also being fireproof was slim.

And yes, just as Kusuo suspected, she was not in fact fireproof, instead appearing very normal. Kusuo was almost more nervous about that because of the way his powers ruined his relationship with his brother. But when his daughter is about three, they pass a cat on a walk and it turns out she does in fact have an inherited power, she can communicate with animals telepathically. As this isn’t really dangerous, even if she did tell someone, (what young child doesn’t pretend they can talk to animals after all?), so she can go to school as normal her whole life. Her older brother is much older than her and already in school by the time she’s ready so there isn’t any conflict between them on that front.

Kusuo’s daughter is much quieter than her brother and of course, very keen on animals. Her and Kusuo have more similar personalities than Kusuo and her brother, and she inherited his love of sweets which certainly helps them bond and spend time together. Kusuo’s daughter has a small group of childhood friends that stick with her throughout her life and they are always over (as long as her brother isn’t sick because his sneezes do tend to spawn spontaneous flashes of fire that might be difficult to explain.)

As a teen, she definitely has a lot of ‘I like dogs more than people’ merchandising. Kusuo isn’t very keen on animals, he doesn’t like to hear their thoughts, so his daughter takes to working at a dog groomers and offering to dog/cat/pet sit for anyone who needs it to fill the animal void in her life.

As an adult, she fills her home with various rescue animals and fosters many more. She works part time at a cat café, but was fortunate enough to marry a lovely beta lady like herself who works fulltime to support her and their furry children so that she could stay at home most of the time. They don’t have children, but her brother more than filled that quota for the family haha.

[don-quixotine]

@miraculous-bullshit ask and you shall receive! :D (sorry I tagged you again!) Note: reposted to not clog poor @toujoursmiraculous post :D 

Interruptions 

based on this thread

For what it’s worth, it took a lot to upset Luka Couffaine. He prided himself in that. He was never one to make a big deal out of things, unless absolutely necessary. Mild inconveniences like being flipped off for accidentally bumping someone in the metro, someone cutting him in a waiting line, entitled moms berating him at his job, being made fun of, not getting his way with something; these were all easily brushed off.

It’s not that he didn’t care, he just knew there were bigger things to worry about than an asshole being an asshole. He lived in Paris, after all. A city that big was bound to be ridden with them.

However, he had learned something about himself recently: His weak spot was Marinette. His skin positively crawled whenever anyone tried to harm, belittle, mock, or otherwise wrong her. There was a second element to this pet peeve of his; he had also discovered that he hated when someone interrupted them. It wasn’t jealousy or anything. It was more the fact that Marinette being the sheer tornado of creative power that she was, was always up to something. Finding a way to squeeze himself into her schedule was already a feat in itself, so he prized every minute he got to spend with her.

Needless to say, this was the precise reason why Luka was so excited for the weekend. He and Marinette were going to spend the entire Saturday afternoon together and the first order of business was going to the park and get ice cream.

The first offense happened at the hands of someone he otherwise respected.

Marinette and Luka had set up a blanket on a spot under a big, hefty tree. The ice cream was already gone, and Luka was playing a few new songs for Marinette. He had, rather evidently, sat a bit closer to her in the hopes that she might lean against him. Which she did, inadvertently causing for Luka’s heart to skip a beat or two. Now that’s an irony, a musician missing a beat.

Sensing Marinette resting her head against his arm, Luka put down the guitar and tentatively shifted to try and bring Marinette into his arms.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, a blur of a person crashed down through the foliage of the tree, falling right in the middle of the pair, and effectively dissolving the calm of the moment.

“Meowch! Heh, sorry!”

“Chat Noir?” Marinette exclaimed, uncharacteristically annoyed as Luka and her crawled from the pile of cat on top of them.

Chat Noir scrambled to his feet and gave them a sheepish smile. “Apologies er, fellow Parisians! Got stuck in the tree for a second there, hah.”

As Marinette grumbled, Luka simply shrugged, smiled coolly at him, and joked, “It happens. Maybe next time we’ll call the fire department to get the cat unstuck?”

Chat Noir blushed with a bit of embarrassment, largely due to the fact that Marinette actually laughed at the joke. Luka had no way of knowing this, of course, but Chat Noir had caught glimpse of him and Marinette as he vaulted through the city and had decided it would be a good idea to spy on them by perching on the tree they sat under, which only added to his shame.

“Yeah. So uh, yep. Sorry!” he babbled again, before scurrying out of the picture.

The second offense was at the hands of Paris’ resident terrorist. And Chat Noir. Again.

After getting their ice cream, Luka and Marinette walked around the city a bit and ended up at the steps of the Trocadero, where as luck would have it, an Akuma appeared.

As Luka and Marinette scrambled to get to safety, Chat Noir cut in to push them out of the way from one of the Akuma’s attacks.

It did not escape Luka that Chat Noir scooped Marinette up and vaulted away with her. He was glad Chat Noir was fulfilling his duties and that Marinette was now at least out of harm’s way, but really, was it so hard to escort them to the nearest shop to take shelter as he had done with literally every other person at the site of the attack?

A couple of minutes after he had disappeared with Marinette in tow, he came back for him.

“Your turn,” Chat Noir said with a wink, and took Luka away to an indistinct street away from the Akuma.

Luka gave Chat Noir a perplexed look. “Where is Marinette?”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head. “I– she must have already hidden away,” he offered lamely.

Feeling a bit irked and suspicious that Chat Noir might have a crush on Marinette, he said, “I’ll look for her, then. Thanks for keeping my date safe, Chat Noir.”

As he calculated, he saw the discomfort in Chat’s face. “Yeah, no problem at all!”

Additionally, Luka quickly discovered he was right about something else: Chat Noir had very likely put Marinette somewhere else. Not only was he not able to find her anywhere, but she was not even picking up her phone anymore.

Luka worried that something might have happened to her, his contempt for the catboy growing by the second.

“That… that… that furry!” He grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out a way to contact Marinette, hoping to the heavens that she was okay.

After the Akuma was neutralized, Marinette called him. Yes, she ended up several districts away and apologized profusely about something she had absolutely no control of which both endeared and saddened Luka.

He had noticed Marinette tended to blame herself when things didn’t work out around her, even when she had no way of controlling them.

“Hey, hey, no stress,” Luka said chuckling, as he interrupted Marinette’s mortified rambling. “We can meet back in the movie theater.”

He let a sigh of relief as he spotted Marinette waiting for him by the ticket booth. He ran to her and threw his arms around her without thought, only realizing what he did when Marinette hugged him back.

He blushed and hugged her tighter.

“I’m got hit by the Akuma after Chat Noir took me away,” Marinette explained. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m just happy you’re okay,” he said, finally pulling away and smiling at her. “So, which movie should we watch?”

Luka pointedly noticed the fact that Marinette suggested to watch a scary movie. The first time he had gone to the movies with her, Alya, Nino, and Juleka had tagged along and he remembered her adamantly informing everyone that she wouldn’t join if they picked anything scary.

He wondered why.

“Really? You sure?” Luka said.

“Yeah, you like scary movies, right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Luka said. “I’m happy to watch anything you wanna watch.”

A light blush crept onto Marinette’s face again. “I wanna watch a scary movie.”

Luka tried not to entertain the thought that the reason why Marinette wanted to watch a scary movie with him was probably a plot with the end goal of having an excuse for them to hug throughout the movie. He didn’t want to get his expectations too high; he was already writing songs about her as it was.

As they took their seats, Marinette seemed to pick up where they left off at the park before Chat Noir interrupted them. She sat decidedly close to him–as close as one could to justify any casual brush of the hand as an accident— while Luka, in a sudden bout of confidence, put his arm around her.

He tensed up, waiting for Marinette’s reaction, and was pleasantly rewarded when she relaxed into his grasp and leaned her head against his chest.

“Oh, I just remembered,” she said, while waiting for the movie to start, “I have something for you.”

She reached into her purse and produced a small box.

Luka beamed at her as he picked the little gift from her palm. “You didn’t have to give me anything, Marinette.”

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she said, shrugging and giving him a warm smile.

He opened the box and found a guitar pick that Marinette had hand painted with little blue-and-black motifs. His heart swelled for her and found himself wishing he could kiss her.

“I love it,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you.”

“I… I have something else for you,” she said, turning herself so that she was squarely facing him.

His pulse hitched up, realizing he wasn’t the only one wishing for a kiss, as Marinette trained her eyes on his.

He couldn’t look away. He felt as if a sort of magnet pulled him towards her, a sort of force that he was unable to escape from even if he wanted to.

A short gasp escaped him as the distance between them shrunk slowly, almost painfully. He was so close he could feel Marinette’s warmth on his skin. So, close their lips almost brushed. So close that–

“Hey guys!” an all-too-familiar voice chirpily greeted them from behind Luka, effectively and immediately interrupting them and causing Marinette to flail and throw the bucket of popcorn she had on her lap.

Luka sighed, this time at the end of his wits. Third interruption, of course it had to be at the hands of whom Luka considered to be the densest human alive. He turned around to find none other than Adrien Agreste, accompanied by Nino. Luka could do little to help himself from giving him the meanest look he could possibly conjure.

“Hey, Adrien. Nino,” he said, clenching his teeth. “What. A nice. Surprise.”

Adrien, oblivious as always, seemed not to grasp what had just transpired. Luckily, as Adrien went on about what a coincidence it was to end up in the same movie theater, at the same showing, and how cool it would be to watch it with them, it was apparent Nino knew better.

“Um, dude, actually, I think I’ll have to sit at the front this time if you don’t mind,” Nino said, interrupting Adrien’s question of whether they could sit with them. “Yeah, my glasses have been giving me trouble…”

Adrien could do little to hide his disappointment but in the end went with Nino. Luka, on the other hand, would have kept grumbling to himself even after they had left if it weren’t for Marinette’s quick kiss on his cheek, which interrupted his train of thought.

“Thanks for being so patient,” Marinette said.

Luka, unable to stay irritated so long as Marinette looked at him like that–with those bright blue eyes and cute little smile, chuckled. “It’s no problem.”

There would be other opportunities, he thought to himself as Marinette snuggled back next to him. For now, he was happy with just watching the movie and enjoy having Marinette in his arms. At one point he was even brave enough to peck her on the head, in one particular scene where Marinette hid her face against his chest with the excuse that she was too scared to watch.

Encouraged by the quick kiss, Marinette looked up to him and again, he found himself drawn to her lips. So, close he could brush his nose against her, so close he smelled her perfume. So close that��

“AN AKUMA!” someone screamed out in the movie theater hall, unchaining a mass hysteria that propelled the audience to rush to the exit.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath as Marinette sprung up and he followed after her.

Dammit! What does a guy have to do to kiss his crush? Was moment with Marinette too much to ask?

Judging from the smug little smile Chat Noir couldn’t help but sport as he herded him and the rest of the civilians to safety, yes. Yes, it was. It took a lot to annoy Luka, but he now kept a list: Anyone wanting to hurt Marinette, being interrupted when he was with her, and the idea of cats in general. Especially black cats.

“I’m just saying, dude’s a bit weird,” Luka said, hanging out with Marinette and some of her friends a couple of days after Chat Noir’s repeated attempts at sabotaging his date, plus then some more. The story had been quite the laugh for everybody and the group now heatedly discussed whether they knew of other couples Chat Noir liked to sabotage, much to Marinette and Adrien’s mortification.

Adrien, Nino noticed, was quite uncomfortable with the topic. He squirmed in his seat and went to great lengths to not cross glances with Luka.

“Yo, you okay?” whispered Nino.

“Huh?”

“You seem a little… uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine!” Adrien hurried to assure him, but then resumed being consumed in his thoughts. Great. Marinette’s boyfriend now had it out for him for accidentally having interrupted them a time or two.

Okay, maybe it had been around ten times so far, but in his defense half of those were due to Akumas and the rest… Well, the rest were just... you know, “accidents.”

Nino did not comment so as to not add fuel to the fire, but he suspected that Adrien was not only lying, but had finally realized his feelings for Marinette. Nino chuckled to himself, feeling a little sorry for Adrien. Poor dude had the timing of drying cement.

--

ta-da!

I couldn’t include the part where LB kisses Luka because that sent me into outlining a multi-chapter angst fic and we are NOT doing that cause these babies deserve happiness :)) but alas, here you go

[supraveng]

Moving On (3/?)

part 2

Summary: you have to confront your past….what could go wrong

Characters:  Sam Winchester x reader, former Bucky Barnes x reader, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Bruce Banner, Kevin Tran, Dick Roman, Maria Hill, Nick Fury

Word Count: 2508

A/N:  sorry for the delay on part 3, (work has been crazy)....hoping to post the next chapter next week

does not follow any MCU story line; attempting an MCU/SPN crossover; let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapters

@iamwarrenspeace   

@mythandmagik    @lieswithoutfairytales   @bbmommy0902  @hailmary-yramliah  @jessyballet  @paryl @tcc-gizmachine @vicmc624​

You were in a daze and barely remembered getting back to your room, you heard Sam talking but you couldn’t grasp anything other than Thor telling you about your pregnancy.  Something that you would never expect to happen and you were certainly not ready for.  

“Sweetheart? Are you ok?” Sam looked at you worryingly.  

“Yea, uh, I um, I’m ok” you nodded “I am in need of a shower and uh, yea.”  Looking up at Sam, you saw the biggest smile on his face 

“I can tell you are worried, and I know this wasn’t your plan, but I’m so happy right now I can’t help it. We’re having another baby!” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a comforting hug.  

“I love you so much, Sam” just a hug from him helped your anxious thoughts to quiet down for a few moments.  “Wanna join me in the shower?” you winked as you turned and headed towards the bathroom.

Making your way back to the common room, after a very long and rejuvenating shower, you tried your best to focus on what to do next.  Your head is spinning, as excited as you are about having another child, this wasn’t planned and kind of throws everything out of whack.  

You huff as you plop down on the couch next to Kevin, watching Morgan and Joy have a tea party in the middle of the room with all of their favorite animals.  

“So Kev, we are probably heading home tomorrow, so if there is anything you want to see while in NY, now is your chance” you tell him knowing he’s been enjoying this trip as much as you have.  

“Oh, I thought we’d be here longer, I was hoping to catch a show, but I haven’t been able to find affordable tickets, so maybe next time” he shrugs in response.

“Don’t be silly, I’m sure i can have Tony pull some strings and get you tickets for tonight, or we could move your return flight home, whichever you prefer really. Anything for Kevin Tran, world’s best nanny” you smile at him and see the small blush on his cheeks from the praise.  

“I’m serious, whatever you need, just say the word, you have no idea how relieved I am when she’s with you, because I know you take such good care of her, I don’t worry for a minute, you Kevin, are a Godsend if there ever was one”

You could tell Kevin was a bit taken back, but he rarely took a compliment well so you simply squeezed his hand and offered a sincere smile before being interrupted by Sam as he joined the girls on the floor for tea.   

“What do my girls say to a picnic then maybe a trip to the park?”   

"That sounds like a great plan, but I have an appointment with Maria after lunch so I can't make it to the park, I'm sorry sweetie" you tell them as you go to join them for tea.  

"Well, we could picnic here and maybe play down at the lake, I'm sure Tony has a kayak or canoe I can take the girls on." Sam tells you as you adjust the flower crown on his head so it  doesn't fall in his eyes.  

"Are you sure you want to take care of 2 kids by yourself? I gave Kevin the rest of the day off"

"Of course, and I need the practice" he winks as he starts to tickle the girls.  "Ok, then I will get our lunch ready while you help the girls out of these beautiful gowns and into some play clothes''

 Lunch was an event, although both girls were always well behaved, they had a tendency to make a mess, or get distracted and try to follow the butterfly that came by for a visit.  By the time you were done, you were rushing to meet Maria in time, knowing that being late was not an option.   

You knew what needed to be done but not sure how she would take the info about Roman getting away, hopefully the few of his lackeys that were picked up would get you some important info.  

By the time you made it back to the compound you were mentally exhausted, and apparently your clan had a good day as they were spread out in the common room watching The Little Mermaid.  You had to laugh at how engrossed in the movie the adults in the room seemed to be, and was Steve singing along...no, you had to be imagining that.  

Finding a seat next to Nat, you looked around fondly at your two families combining so nicely.  

“So how did she take it?” Natasha whispered without taking her eyes off the screen.  

You hadn’t told anyone what your full intention of today’s meeting was, as far as everyone knew, you were going over the mission report and strategizing the next steps, but Nat always knew everything….now that you were having two kids, you really needed to figure out how to do that.  

“Well, she’s not thrilled but understands, Furry asked if he had to buy me a farm….whatever that means” you responded shaking your head.  

She snickered and simply responded with “Clint”, you hadn’t even thought of that, “ah, well, Sam Winchester is not the Mr. Mom type, so this is my only option”    

“And are you ok with that?” she asks, finally turning and looking at you. 

“Honestly, I can’t imagine anything better” you sigh as you look over at Joy napping on Sam’s chest.  

“Good, you deserve all the happiness in the world” she gives you a small hug.  “And Tony’s throwing a dinner tonight, since you are leaving tomorrow, so be prepared”  

You roll your eyes in jest, knowing Tony would probably do something like that, “well, in that case, I’m going to try and take a nap before dinner”.   

Getting up you make your way to Sam and bend over to place a small kiss on his head, “I’m going to try and grab a nap, do you two want to join me?” you whisper in his ear, not wanting to interrupt anyone’s movie time…..and now I’m certain Steve is singing along ang actually knows all the songs.  

He smiles and nods, following behind you and into the room you are staying in

Sam got Joy settled in her crib before turning back to me, pulling me into a much needed hug.  “How do you always know when I need you?” you mumbled into his chest.  

“That’s my job” he smiled down at you “so I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”  

"It went as well as could be expected, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the time frame I gave them. Two weeks is a bit short to transition my cases to someone else and pack up my apartment but, the sooner the better I suppose" you are rambling as Sam put Joy in her crib and is now sitting on the bed watching you. 

"You are relocating?  Are you moving back to NY? I didn't realize that was an option when you made this trip…..does this have anything to do with Bucky?" he barely whispers with a worried look on his face. 

"What? Sam, no, none of this has to do with Bucky" you aren't sure why he thought that and look at him confused.  

"I…..I remember how broken hearted you were when we met, if you still love him, I would like to know…..I deserve to know since you are the mother of my children" you had never seen Sam so distressed in your life.  

He was the most confident man you had ever met, the lawyer that owned the courtroom as soon as he walked in.  You couldn't believe that he would ever be concerned with someone you used to date. 

"Oh Sam" you hold his face in your hands as you settle in his lap. "There is nothing left between Bucky and I, he was a part of my past, and might be a friend in the future,  but you are the only man I have ever truly loved with my entire being" looking into his eyes you see some relief so you lean in and kiss him softly but passionately. 

"The meeting was my resignation, or retirement as SHIELD prefers to call it. I'm leaving DC so we can all be together in Kansas all the time."  

He looks at you shocked "you quit? You love your job, I didn't think you would ever leave."  

You smile at him "I do, I love my job, but my family,  you, our kids are so much more important than any job could ever be" 

"Our kids" he whispers as you runs his hand over your stomach "we're having another baby and our family will all be under one roof….this has been an incredible day" he looks at you lovingly before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close to him as possible. 

"I'm sorry I didn't explain that before I left, but you know how exhausted I was the first time, there's no way I could continue this case on Roman being pregnant. Speaking of, do you think we could change the wedding date?  If we stick with our current plan, I'll be a whale walking down the aisle" you grimace at the thought of waddling in a wedding dress. 

He chuckles at you before kissing you, "whatever you want is fine by me"  

"Do you think your mom would be ok with us planning something small in the next month or so, before I start showing?" 

He laughs at your excitement to move things along so quickly "mom would love it, she works well under pressure"  

"Ok, let's try to rest before your princess wakes up" Sam and you snuggle into the bed wrapped up in each other's arms.  

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when you suddenly felt the bed shift.  Opening your eyes slowly, you came face to face with beautiful hazel eyes, had it not been for the giggles and tiny hands patting your cheek, you might have thought you were looking at Sam.  

“Joy sweetie” you whisper “how did you get out of your crib?” pulling her down to snuggle with you a bit longer.  

“Tevin hep me out” she giggles again before getting up and climbing over you to sit on Sam’s torso.  He didn’t move, but you could tell by his breathing that he was awake, and most likely ready to strike on Joy at any moment.  

It’s one of the things you love when you are all under one roof.  Not living in the same state is hard, and you both worked really hard to make things as normal as possible for Joy, but seeing them together, simple little things like this made your heart swell.  

She adored her dad, and had no idea it wasn’t normal for you to all be in the same house, but that would soon change.  Before you were too lost in your thoughts, Joy was squealing while Sam was tickling her, the fake sleep surprise attack never failed. 

Looking at them you laughed and attempted to get out of the bed, but you heard Sam whisper “let’s get mommy” and before you knew it, you were being tickled and attacked by both of them.  

By the time the three of you made it to dinner, everyone was there and of course Tony had everything catered and a full staff serving, and of course he needed to make a toast to make sure everyone knew it was an official ‘family’ dinner. 

 Clinking his glass he raised it in the air and everyone followed suit, you were about to grab the wine glass but quickly changed to the water in front of you.  

“To an ever expanding family, salut” Tony cheered as everyone followed suit and took a drink.  The table was full of laughter and chatter from everyone, even Morgan and Joy were chatting away as the best of friends. 

“So Sam” Bruce turned toward Sam “how did you propose to Y/N?” for some reason, that question got most of the tables attention and everyone was looking at the two of you.  

“Well, which time?” Sam asked with a smirk.   

You knew that this would come to bite you in the ass one day, but you had hoped it was with Sam’s family, not yours.  

“Wait…..you proposed more than once?” Steve asked, you could tell he was trying to seem like it was an innocent question, but he was really trying to understand the person you had become since you left NY.  

“Three times to be exact” Sam said with more confidence than you had expected.  You shook your head knowing everyone expected an explanation and you were about to speak when Sam squeezed your hand under the table. 

“Well, the first time was when we found out that our little Joy was on the way.  However, in Y/N defense, we were only together 3 or 4 months at that point, so it probably felt a bit rushed.   The second was about 15 minutes after Joy was born and it was a very emotional day for all of us.  The successful proposal was just a few months ago, and we went on a little road trip, and I proposed at the same chapel where her parents were married” Sam turned to you fondly and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek.  

“Wow, you are even more difficult than Pepper, I never realized that before” Tony smirked as he lifted his glass.  

“Very funny, Tony.   In my defense, the first two were spur of the moment emotional proposals and not thought through.  I didn’t refuse, but knew that you needed to really think things out before taking such a big step” you tried to explain your reasoning, but not sure if it was for yourself or everyone else. 

“They may have been spur of the moment, but they were most definitely thought through” Sam replies with a smug look while still eating and assisting your daughter with her meal.  

You looked up at him a bit confused and was about to ask more when he continued by bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles.  

“I bought that ring after our 3rd date, I just had to convince you that I wanted you for who you are and not what you have given to me since we met.”  

You were shocked, you had no idea he knew for that long that he wanted this life with you, it had all felt it just happened and you went with it.  You were actually speechless at this point and could see the glint in his eyes as you processed what he said.   Leaning in, you kissed him gently and looked into those amazing hazel eye, this is where you always belonged. 

[duskyskz]

Blueberry Claws - H.H.J

Warnings - Halloween Au, mentioned assault, choking, Hyunjin!Dom mild tones, slight violence

Word Count - 4.7K

A/N - ahaha this .. turned out way longer than I meant to ohno I'm sorry Hyunjin had my heart in a vice grip lately

Part of @nightshade-minho and @mini-meanhoe 's Halloween collab!

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

Elbow deep in ruddy earth, you kneel among the undergrowth of your garden, plucking away stray roots and weeds. It’s not your favourite part of the day, but you pride yourself in the exquisite berries your growth produces, and adequate sunlight is a must in bringing the sweetest fruits. Autumnal chills creep down your spine, warning you of setting sun and cooler nights looming over the forest horizon. It is a quaint little house, settled carefully between the curve of the river and the forest border, a hat’s toss away from the village settlement, and you enjoy it that way - far away enough for privacy and undisturbed peace, yet not isolated enough to be unreachable and dreary. 

People weren't the only viable company, anyway. Your neighbors came in the form of passing badgers rummaging through your compost, squirrels and mice poking their noses through cracks in your windowsill while you bake, the sweet smell of sugar and jams luring in a furry audience you felt obliged to entertain, tossing crumbs and peels into the open yard. 

“Croak!” 

You raise your head away from the mud at the screech, glancing upward. 

“Hello.” You greet your most recent visitor. The magpie quickly climbed upon your friendlist, introducing itself with a persistent knock of its beak against your poor kitchen windowpane. It came back the next evening, and the one after that, never missing more than a day in it’s routine to rob you of your pie crusts. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“Croak!” You suppose that’s a yes, considering the intensity with which the bird stares down at your precious blueberries. 

“Come on, then. Lunch wouldn’t hurt me, either.” 

***

“Can you believe that - that witch!” You stomp along the pavement to your front door, slamming it open. “The audacity to even imply my pies are anything but organic!”

Positively fuming, you don't entertain the absurdity of venting your frustrations to a corvid. At times, you think to yourself the little blackbird almost understands you - head tilting in accordance with your words, nodding when appropriate and watching your dutifully as if awaiting continuation. 

Then it’s attention switches from your wild gesticulations to the fresh batch of muffins cooling on your counter, and your suspicions of a higher intelligence disappears, leaving you to sweep cake crumbs off it’s feathers. No, plunging neck-deep into hot cake is not wise, you’d point out later. 

***

Maybe the loneliness does get to you after all. It’s a little embarrassing to admit how reliant you become on the magpie’s company. Its’ shrill croaks and glassy eyes became a comfort to you, a presence your day no longer felt complete without. Brushing your fingertips over the delicate feathers on its back, you rest your chin on your other palm. 

“It’s a dreary winter coming, birdie.” You muse, humming at the overcast sky. Masses of grey and washed out blues tumblr over the hills, warning you of approaching snows and rains. “I should fix the roof hatching tomorrow morning - be a shame to freeze my toes off before the solstice, wouldn’t it?” 

 The magpie doesn’t reply, and you don’t expect it to, but the slow blinks as you speak convince you your words don’t fall on deaf ears. 

“As long as I don’t have someone warming my bed, I better do all the warming myself.” Springin to your feet, you set to work on tidying the front yard. 

“Would you care to join me to fetch new hay for the roof tomorrow?” 

Your unconventional companion opens his beak, groaning. Then it snaps down into the ground, impaling one of your finest strawberries. 

Ah, well. 

You can only guess what a magpie must tend to in a day - you weren’t about to keep it from important bird tasks.

***

Your window panes quiver with the force of the hurricane, creaking sadly in their wooden frames. You have no idea what time it could possibly be, but judging by the time already passed since sundown, it’s way into the late night. Dismorphed figures haunt the outside, shadows passing over your bedroom like a predator, and you burrow deeper under your covers. Of course, approaching winter was harsh. In the hillside, mountain winds rolled down rocky foundations to crash into your humble home with rapid force. Turning onto your side, you press your head against the pillow to mute the whistle of the wind through your thin walls. You’d patched the roof last week - but you had yet to insulate the walls fresh, and chills made themselves known through cracks and gaps in last year’s worn overlay. 

With a soul-crushing snap, your window is thrown open as the lock gives way to hurricane, two fragile glass planes whipping open into the dead of night as you curse your luck and scramble out of bed to grasp the handles before they’re torn off entirely.

Yet something past the glass grabs your gaze before you can pull them shut, petrifying you in place. You don’t know if it’s the rain freezing your feet to the ground, or the unfiltered terror, but you can’t even scream as your eyes meet the vividly yellow ones across your garden.

Hunched above your blueberry bush, in a cloak of pitch black, stands a creature you’ve only seen in manic sketches in the village hall prior to tonight. Its’ spine seems bent, somehow, too long and too skewerd to fit precisely in its body, leaving two lumps protruding from its back. In a pale face, boxed in by wisps of black, you can only focus on two luminous eyes, zeroing in on your figure with far too much attention for your liking. 

In its knifed claws it grips a branch of your favourite plant, mangled and weeping blueberry juice onto the dirt. Maroon splatters blot the beast’s face, but you don’t gaze long enough to separate fruit from the blood of some poor soul. 

Maybe your blood will be next on its beak. 

Yanking the window shut, you tumble into your bed, curling as tight as you can into the duvet, shielding your head. Maybe it’ll go away if you don’t make noise, holding your hands to your ears. 

Maybe it’ll just go away.

***

It’s been three days since the storm, and coincidentally, three day since you’ve last seen your closest friend. Really, mayhaps this was a sign your friendship should extend elsewhere, and not the local corvid populace. Shovelling pastries into your hamper, you venture out into the open air for the first time since that night.

You’re still unable to clean the wreckage in your front yard. Somehow, the thought of laying your hands on the same branches that unknown horror touched fills you with dread, and you can’t bring yourself to rid the leftover mess. You had enough jams and preserves stockpiled to last you the whole winter if need be - if you weren’t financially obliged to sell most of them, anyway. 

Fitting yourself with a scarf to guard from temperamental weather, you wrap the wool tightly up to your nose as the first leaves fall from the oaks beside you. 

You love your town, you really do. 

The whimsy of nearby streams rolling over lustrous green fields is a wonder to wake up to every morning, and the walk into town is always a pleasant meander under centuries-old oaks and pine trees, spying on the conversations of woodpeckers and crows.

Yet, among all the commotion, you find yourself missing one particular croak. Never quite the same elegant cry as the other birds, but particular and endearing in its own right. 

And entirely missing from your life for half a week.

Passing the stone gates, you keep to the right of the road to make space for idle carts and horses wandering the streets. Carefully, you unload all your stock onto the market table - this stand has your name carved into the wooden leg, and you pride yourself on being a regular enough attendant to warrant a reserved place. 

The day flurries by you in a mess of clinking jam jars and passing coins. Afternoon had already set in a while ago, traversing into the evening by the time you begin wrapping up your last sale. Bidding goodbye to the market staff, you hoist your (significantly lighter) basket over your forearm, leaving the town square. It’s not dark yet, bare wisps of the night inking over your head as the sun lowers over the woods, letting you lose your train of thought in the scenery.

You feel the last pricks of stress leave you as your thoughts drift to the hallowing creature from nights ago. Perhaps your mind, in its hazy and exhausted stade, played up the vivid shadows and reflections in the moonlight? Yes, surely. There’s no way an animal this size and fright roamed your woods unacknowledged - The only terror you knew was the fabled warlock, but nobody has seen his face in decades. You weren’t even sure what he looked like. All tales of warlocks the library gave you marked them as haunted men, selling their soul for mastery of dark arts, giving up their limbs for a hint of inhuman power. Some had horns, you’d read. Some, a devilish tail winding between their legs, while some gave up their own eyes and replaced them with animal counterparts for better senses. 

It scared you more than you’d like to admit, the more you entertained the possibility of a being so twisted hiding in the depths of your woods - but was Hwang Hyunjin even real, or a figment of townsfolk imagination? 

Entangled in your own head, you fail to notice the arm lashing out to grab your elbow and yank you violently sideways, slamming your back into the brick wall between two buildings. 

“Ouch!” You rasp out, catching your breath, but your scream is broken by the hand quickly winding around your throat.

Great, after a shitty week you were going to get robbed, too! 

“Don't you try open your mouth again, you little bitch.” A coarse voice hissed against your cheek. You tried to reel away from the terrible stench of his breath, but with your back against the wallside, it was impossible to weasel out. “Made quite a pretty penny at the market today, didn’t ya?”

A large, cold hand snuck down your waist, over the ribbons tying your corset shut, and you were sure you’d retch when clammy fingers started tugging at the knot. 

“Where are you hiding it, then? Down your vest?” One sharp pull leaves your corset flying open, exposing your skin to freezing night air, shielded only by a thin undershirt. You try to shake your head, but the hold on your neck makes it impossible to even curse. “That’s a bit thin, isn’t it? Not much to hide under such flimsy fabric -”

“Shit!”

You heave in a breath as the tightness around your throat suddenly wanes, disappearing, and all weight lifts from you. Eyes watering from the lack of oxygen, you blink rapidly to clear your vision, stumbling back as you find focus. 

Shrill cries tear from your assailant, angry red oozing from the gash above his left eye, arms flailing maniacally to chase away the blur of feathers thrashing around his head. Slinking down to catch your breath, you pull your knees to your chest to steady your breathing, though the scene before you grows more gruesome every time you blink. 

You can’t tear your eyes away, even as the bird dives down again, embedding its razor claws in the man’s eye socket. The screams are terrifying, but you don’t have the thought to wonder how no one else came to check the commotion. 

Maybe nobody wanted to.

In muted horror, you watch as the man finally lands a hit, thrashing the tiny bird into the wall opposite with a numbing crack, spinning on his heel to face you once more, though his one eye struggles to find your face. He stumbles forward, lurching in your direction, drops of fresh blood flying at your feet.

“What are you, a witch? I should burn you alive -”

Smack!

You’re sure you’re hallucinating as he topples to the pavement, struck by a surprise force. Hunched over him, in a flurry of black feather, sits a mass you know  you’ve seen before. For a moment you think, another bird? A whole flock? But then the feathered cape shifts, raises, and you realise it’s one pair of  heavy-set wings protruding from a broad back, arms poised to strike over and over at a target long void of defense. You feel sick - everything that unravelled in the last few moments makes your stomach churn, and you vomit onto the floor between your feet. You can’t watch the blood any longer, listen to the crunching sound of tendons snapping and bone breaking, rolling over as you feel your legs give way to jelly.

***

You can feel yourself swaying, gently. You don’t feel the ground, but you know you’re moving, head balanced on something pillowy and warm, but still solid - what a weird combination. 

There’s something holding you up by your legs, and another clutching onto your back. You have half the mind to open your eyes when you’re coherent enough to, knowing you should be alarmed given the situation you just vaguely avoided. But this is nice. Your lift your eyelids barely enough to take in your position, head propped carefully on a shoulder. You can’t see much beyond the collarbone your nose is tucked into without outing yourself as awake, so you settle for breathing in deep, lulling your nerves with the scent of ash and fern. It's safe, comforting somehow, in a way you’ve never felt comforted in. Your forehead grazes his cheek, tips of his dark hair tickling your skin as you heave out a sigh and press your face deeper against the warmth. 

“I’m sorry I left you, Birdie.”

His voice is gentle, too. You let it ring in your head, soft whispers and words you can't quite decipher but appreciate nonetheless lulling you back into shallow sleep. You recognise your surroundings by the shift of light, stepping out from the tree canopy into wide hillside, catching last rays of sunlight. 

You think he’s going to wake you and ask for a key, but your front door grants him access with just a single flick of his wrist under your knee. You’ll have to ask him about that later.

Nudging his way inside, ducking to fit past the low doorframe, your saviour swiftly marches to your bedroom, confirming your suspicions. The layout of your house was entirely too familiar to him for it to be the first time he’s visited the premises. Or the second, if you count the night visit three days back. When he lowers you onto the mattress, it's with such care your heart skips in your chest, and you pray he doesn’t hear it stop entirely when you feel his fingertips brush over your shoulder to pull the blankets over you, strong arms straining under his shirt as he moves your head from his shoulder and you immediately miss the heat. There’s a cup of water by your bedside that wasn’t there before, and when satisfied with your placement, he steps away. Your eyes blink open fully when you feel his presence leave your side. 

“Are you leaving?” Your voice sounds small even to you. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me around.” He answers after a hesitant pause, kneeling by your bed. “You - You looked really scared that night. I never want you to be scared of me.” 

You sit up, reaching for the glass of water which he swiftly passes to you to soothe your throat and wash out remaining bile. Your skin still burns in the places that asshole touched you, and you hiss when your fingers rub the sore spots on your neck, before a larger hand wraps around your palm, bringing it down to glare at the bruise.

“I won’t apologize for what happened to him, though.” The venom in his voice makes you still. “That filth got what he deserved - I should have taken his other eye, too.” 

“...Is he dead?” You’re not sure you should ask.

“No. I left him breathing, but I can’t guarantee someone will find him in time.” 

“You left him blind, that’s enough Hyunjin.” His head snaps up at the name, as if he didn’t expect the confrontation. “You’re the magpie that’s been visiting my garden this summer, aren’t you? You’re the fabled terror in our woods.”

You say the last part with a smile, but the warlock  lowers his head still, glancing down at the blanket curving over your hips.

“....Yeah.” He mumbles, observing the many silver rings at his knuckles. “Is that too much for you?”

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, confused, when he doesn’t elaborate. 

“At first I just came to visit because of the garden, but every time you saw me you’d talk to me like I was a person - Like I could understand. And I know you talk to the others too, like that ugly goose -” You want to scold him for calling Truffles ugly, but he carries on without pause. “But in my head it was just, nice. Even if I couldn’t reply, whenever you speak, there’s no darkness in me. Nothing but you.”

Hyunjin frowns, not wanting to meet your eyes yet. His hand grips the edge of your duvet, straining the fabric as his wings twitch.

“I was so fucking mad at myself when you saw me. You looked so small, so petrified - and of me. And as much as I wanted to take you into my arms and reassure you I couldn’t.” 

You can’t deny it, you were scared then. But knowing the man before you now, the events of today and the large part thunder and your own exhaustion played into your fear that night, you felt none of the apprehension now, resting your hand atop his shaking ones. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t want to see me again, if you’d guessed what I was after that. So I let you be, watching from a distance, because I couldn’t bring myself to let go completely. And today, fuck -” He runs a clawed hand through his locks, pushing hair out of his face to finally look at you, golden eyes rooting you to your spot. “I should have snapped both his legs for even thinking to touch you.”

“But maybe that’s my own vice.” You watch soft pink lips form words you’re not sure are real. They could have been your own imagination, for how quietly he speaks. “Maybe my love would be too much for you.” 

The silence that follows his confession is crushing to both of you, for entirely different reasons. 

You barely wrap your head around the idea of being loved by him before he pulls his hand away from yours, accepting rejection he knew was coming. It’s not until he stands that you breathe in, catching the edge of his jacket before he can leave you again.

“It’s not.” You state. “It’s not too much.”

You hope he doesn’t mistake the quiver in your voice for doubt, because you’ve never been so sure of something in your life. 

“Do you mean that?” The hopeful lilt to his voice sparks your heart alight, he’s at your side in seconds, long feathers sweeping the floor below his feet as he moves. “Are you sure you want me the same way I want you?”

“I do.”

You nod to reassure him, sliding further down the bed to make space for his larger frame. Hyunjin slinks in next to you, crawling over to hover above you, taking in the way you look finally beneath him. His feathers block out most light, sun long set. You can barely see, but before you can complain about missing his ethereal beauty, a candle flickers alight by your window, and another on your bedside table. Another, and yet one more afterward, until your bedroom filters in a warming glow from a dozen shy fires. 

Ah, warlock things. 

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin hesitates still, lips stopping millimeters away from yours as the last strings of hesitation cling to his thoughts until you urge him to move. “You can touch me.”

His lips are warmer than anything you’ve ever felt, moving over your mouth like fine malt wine. There’s a quiver in his hands when he brings a palm down to cradle your cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin as his tongue runs over your teeth. 

You don’t notice your legs spreading open to allow him between your thighs until his knee bumps against your core, bundling your skirts in his fist to pull them down and off. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to have you under me like that, birdie.” Hyunjin whispers. “All for me, at my mercy - you look so good like that.”

The irony of him using your own nickname for him on you is lost in the moment you arch your back into his touch, pressing your still corseted chest against his palm. Every place he touches has you needing more of him, every part you can reach. 

“Undress me, please.” 

“Gladly.” Nimble fingers pluck the bow of your shirt open, lifting it over your head. In the cocoon of his wings and candle light, you feel a love you’ve never known before. Discarding his own shirt next, you hardly have a moment to take in the exquisite expanse of his chest before your field of vision is taken up with glimmering navy feathers, Hyunjin’s head dipping to swirl his tongue over your nipple. Your grip in his hair makes him keen against your chest, groaning over the sensitive flesh between his teeth.

“Are you - You’re a virgin?” The idea of him being the first to make you feel so open, the only person to see you react to such intimate touch gets him harder than Hyunjin thought possible. 

“Ah, yeah…” You nod. Were your reactions so telling? You suddenly felt even smaller, caged between his arms and the pillows, watching his tamarind eyes flicker.

“I’ll love you well, birdie. Don’t worry.” He blows cool air onto your damp bud and you feel like crying. One hand leaves the space by your head, pinching your other peak. At first gently, testing how far he could push your limits to get you melting at his touch, then harder when you moan at the slight burn. 

Your hips rise to rub against his thigh, unknowingly seeking out friction to aid the dampness gathering in your underwear. His hand meets you there, slipping a finger under the band of your panties to snap it against your skin for your impatience, and you still immediately, recognising his dominance even without prior warning. 

“Be good and wait. If I own you, I’m taking my time with you.” There’s a hard edge in his voice, something about the empty threat makes you want to push his buttons until he snaps. 

You don’t need to wait much longer.

Ridding you of the last scrap of clothing you had left, Hyunjin has you bare and displayed, every part on show and within his reach. Slower than you can take, he drags his thumb on the inside of your thigh, kissing and nibbling the delicate skin just inches away from your dripping cunt. When his thumb finally, finally rubs a circle against your clit you whine his name so loud he nearly bites down hard. Still, he holds his pace, pressing his thumb in patient patterns against your nub as his teeth mark up your thighs.

“Jinnie, go harder, please.”

You know you fucked up when he glances up at you, brows quirking in amusement. 

“I said I’ll take care of you, y/n. If you want to cum, lay there and take it.”

You’re thankful he has a shred of mercy for your sanity, because your pleas seem to have a marginal effect on his movement. 

You eat your words when Hyunjin forces two fingers inside your already wet slit, scissoring you open with harsh flicks of his wrist. His lips remain stuck to your clit, and the sudden assault on your senses has tears rushing down your cheeks.

“W-Wait! Hyun, wait, I don’t want to cum yet!” You don’t really believe he’ll listen.

“Don’t you? But I thought you wanted me to hurry, birdie?” The mockery in his voice makes you clench, and you’d flush if you weren’t so close to orgasm. “For someone not ruined before, you beg for a dick so well.”

“No...Not yet, I wanna cum on you, please.” 

Hyunjin can resist many things - spells, curses. Killing a man on multiple occasions. 

Your whimpering voice as you beg for him to take your virginity in your own bed, wrapped around his fingers and blushing from his tongue is not one of those things. 

“Fuck, okay.”

Pulling his fingers out, your lips part at the emptiness, but your nerves prickle with knowledge of what awaits you next. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, sweat dampening his forehead and eyes peering right into your heart whenever your gazes meet. You’re hypnotised by the way muscles in his back tense when he kneels between your thighs, urging you to open up for his fit. You only catch the briefest sight of his length, but it’s enough to make you gasp in anticipation at the size and thickness of his base. 

“You’re sure you want me?” Your legs wrap around his waist as he asks, not yet penetrating you, only resting his length on your slick core. 

“I want you more than anything I’ve ever dreamed of, Hyunjin.” You channel all your love and trust into your words, daring yourself to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. 

Feeling the stretch of him is euphoric, inch by inch, more than any discomfort could hope to reach. Your focus on the flex of his forearm propping him up beside your head, the tantalizing way his mouth curls in a moan of your name when he bottoms out, placing his seal on you completely. 

“Tell me when I can move, alright?” 

“N-Now, you can move. Please move.” You’re gonna go insane if he doesn’t ravage you right now, digging your nails into his bicep. Hyunjin starts off slowly, gentle languid strokes brushing over your walls. With every move, he feels you relax, the tension in your legs loosening into desperate longing as you pull him deeper into you, trapping him against your body.

You open your eyes only to grab his hand, wrapping it around your throat. His hips stutter, before he grips you fully, squeezing the sides of your neck until your moans turn to broken cries of his name.

“You’re such a cute little whore, love. What a dirty pussy you’ve been holding out on me.”

The smirk he looks down on you with is downright filthy, degrading every shred of dignity you had left, but you don’t take in anything but him, his hips slamming you into the mattress and the hot breath against your ear. “Are you gonna cum from that? My good girl, just like that...Let go and cum under me.”

He pulls his hand away from your neck, allowing you to heave in a breath and scream his name. Hyunjin holds you down by your wrists above your head, thrusting relentlessly as you cum around him, shaking and sobbing from the overstimulation at your centre. He allows himself to release then, as your whimpers quieten and he rides out your highs with you, filling you to the brim. 

You stay entwined for a moment as you catch your shaky breath, coming out of the headspace Hyunjin fucked you into. When he pulls out, you fight the urge to clamp your legs shut as he holds your thighs apart, admiring the way his cum spills out of your rawed hole. 

“Let me clean you first, birdie.” 

You nearly drift off in the blissed-out feeling that envelops you as he wipes your legs clean with a warm, damp cloth, stroking over tingling bruises with adoration. 

When he’s finally satisfied with your state, Jinnie allows you to tug him back into bed with you, arms immediately coiling around your middle to press you into his chest, nose nuzzling against the crown of your head to breathe in your scent. 

“I meant every word I said.” He mentions, speaking against your forehead. His lips tickle you with every word and you’re so tempted to kiss him again just because you can. “ I really do love you.”

“I know, Jinnie. I love you too.”

****

Tag list - @defsbxessi @godlyaj @palet-innie

[writing-gifts]

here’s the 5th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

I dont really have anything to say so enjoy lol

list of the current parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t

----

The moment you pass the threshold of your home you immediately drop the heavy grocery bags you’re carrying with a relieved sigh. Even though you had way fewer than Doppio, the weight had your hands screaming for some time now. This was why you usually don't wait this long to get groceries. The store was out of the way and with only the bus as a source of transportation for you, you had to carry everything you bought at once. But since you’ve been busy with work recently your chores quickly ended up on the backburner.

You rub at your aching fingers and glance at your friend who seems completely unfazed by all the bags he’s currently holding. He doesn't look it, but he has quite the strength which you chalk up to him being a demon.

"There was definitely no way I’d be able to carry all of this on my own,” you say. “By the way, if you don't mind, can you take everything into the kitchen for me Doppio?"

The incubus smiles and nods before picking up the bags you dropped and leaving the living room.

You're ready to take a breather on the couch before you have to go put everything away but pause when you see Mutton stroll into the room from the hallway. You double take and raise a brow. Lately the cat has been coming around more often, but this was the first time you had seen him during the day.

"Hello Mutton! Did I forget to completely close the window again?"

You make your way towards the cat ready to snuggle and coo at him, but he immediately wriggles out of your grasp and jumps onto the couch.

The cat's avoidance has you pursing your lips. "Why don't you love me?"

Unbeknownst to you, Doppio had returned from the kitchen and was now staring, practically glaring at Mutton. He didn't like that cat hanging around for multiple reasons. The main one being he wasn't even sure what it was, but he knew it was no regular animal. Doppio didn’t exactly get along with most animals but something about this cat seemed too aware. He felt like it was always watching him, considering him and his intentions.

Mutton turns in his direction with a look of indifference before yawning

"Doppio why are you just standing there?” You turn away from Mutton to properly look at your friend. “You look annoyed by something…"

The incubus wipes the scowl from his face. "Sorry I was….just remembering something I forgot to do."

“Well I'm going to go put everything away now. Thanks for helping me!"

You try to walk into the kitchen but Doppio calls out to you.

"Do you want me to help put everything away?" he asks.

"But what about the thing you forgot?"

He shrugs, "I can take care of it later."

You hum but before you can continue your way into the kitchen, you notice a pink strand of hair sticking out of place on the top of Doppio’s head. You get closer to him so you can reach out to fix it, but it doesn’t take long for your eyes to drift away from it and to his brown eyes instead. You made eye contact with your friend all the time but when it was this close, something about it felt different.

You try to say something to break the weird tension that was forming but the flush forming on Doppio’s freckled cheeks has the words getting stuck in your throat and your stomach flipping. You feel transfixed in place and you’re nervous about what will happen next. But just when you’re about to make an impulsive choice, you notice something rubbing against your calf. You look down and see Mutton trying to stubbornly squeeze through the space between your legs.

You immediately pull your hand back and make space between you and Doppio. And of course Mutton takes this as the perfect opportunity to lay on your feet. The cat looks up at you expectantly.

"Didn't you want to be left alone a second ago?" you ask the cat.

You say this but bend down to pet Mutton anyways since you were in need of a distraction. You weren't sure what's been happening to you lately, but sometimes when you were around Doppio you felt...off. Sometimes giddy, sometimes anxious; even nauseous at times. But for some reason you didn't hate it. In fact, it made you want to spend even more time with him.

Doppio tilts his head when you sigh.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"...Just tired I guess."

He grins, it seems a bit forced though. "That's even more of a reason for me to help you put everything away. In the kitchen."

You shake your head at how he's so insistent about something so trivial. But you stand back up and move your feet from underneath Mutton, who immediately looks displeased from the movement.

"Okay, okay let’s go."

-----

Doppio was this close to fighting the cat.

The damn feline was everywhere and always getting between you and him. It was driving him up the wall!

For example, the two of you were watching a movie last night. The incubus's heart thrilled when you had leaned against him, too sleepy to completely support yourself anymore. But then the stupid cat jumped onto the sofa rubbing its giant, furry body all over you in an attempt to get you to pet him. It was enough to completely rouse you and you straightened yourself before giving the attention that Doppio desperately wanted to the cat.

This was just one of the many offensives of the feline this week, and even Diavolo seemed to be getting irritated which fueled Doppio’s irritation even more. If he could just get rid of the damn thing like his boss suggested, this issue could be solved but then there would be the new problem of you being upset.

Doppio groans on your couch trying to calm down before he does anything dangerous. Fortunately, you weren't at home at the moment and didn’t have to see him like this.

Instead of continuing to dwell on the cat, the incubus thinks about how you had given him a key to your house this week. Even though he could get in either way the thought was nice. He feels himself relaxing and just as he thought he managed to cool off, the front door creaks open. He sits up expecting it to be you but sees the reason for his anger instead.

Mutton walks in paying him no mind. He then kicks the door close with his hindleg before sitting next to it.

Doppio glares. "What the--What are you doing here? How'd you even open the door?"

It's quiet for a moment until a deep voice breaks the silence.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Doppio flinches, not expecting the damn thing to actually talk, but it takes less than a second for him to go back to glaring.

"I'm actually allowed in here! ____ gave me a key!" He reaches into his back pocket to show it off.

Mutton squints at the small golden key before sighing. He looks away, a scowl on his feline features. "...Dammit. Who invites a demon willingly into their home?"

Doppio smirks at the words. "Why does it matter to you? They can do what they want."

"They don't know what they're getting themselves into with your kind."

The smugness is quickly wiped from Doppio's face and he furrows his brow wanting to ask for an elaboration. However, the cat walks off intent on not answering to him anymore.

"You know I'm telling ____ about this right!?" The incubus yells down the hallway but the cat seems to not give a miniscule shit.

Grumbling, Doppio flops back on the couch. The cat’s reaction has him doubting himself. He wanted to tell you, but would you even believe him about "Mutton”?

He felt like you trusted him for the most part but he still couldn't say for sure. Worst case scenario would be that you would want nothing else to do with supernatural beings including himself. The incubus frowns and closes his eyes hoping to shut out any more thoughts like this.

You definitely trusted him...but maybe it would be best if he held onto this information for now.

[solaneceae]

for @inspiredrawaw because their ocs live in my brain rent-free

emo deer and shy dragon boi have a heccin snuggle. thats it, thats the tweet.

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

Waking up was a... difficult process. Slow, sluggish and almost sticky, like being pulled out of a particularly deep quagmire. Darkness was clinging to his body and mind, keeping his eyelids stubbornly closed, a sensation of numbness and weightlessness planting the seeds of doubts. Was this real? Was he dreaming?

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue… except he couldn’t remember falling asleep. Nor could he remember… much of anything, really.

He was stuck in this state of hazy confusion for what felt like hours, with no sensory hint as to where he was, head and ears filled with cotton, too stiff and tired to move an inch or open his eyes. He wondered, however briefly, if this was what death was. Maybe he’d fallen off the boat and drowned. Maybe a monster got him, and he just couldn’t remember it.

Mh. If that was truly the After, then it was a tad underwhelming, wasn’t it.

“...’en? Drakken? Are you with me?”

Recognition sparked in his slowly waking mind, followed by fondness. That voice. Omen’s voice. That formal inflexion, that little scratchiness Drakken had come to love. He could now feel a pressure on his upper back and shoulders, his arms, his chest… like he was being held.

Was his partner taking him through the gates themselves? In a way, the prospect was reassuring. The young dragon wouldn’t have it any other way.

But then he thought of Amber, and how devastated she’d be. Oh Gods, what had he done? Curse the Morrígan! Them, and all of this starfallen, cussing pile of moonrocks!

“Wake up you sod, you’re not dead just yet.”

...Oh.

That made more sense in retrospect. It took effort, but opening his eyes confirmed that he was, indeed, very much alive, and not being carried off to the After following an untimely demise. Merely laying down on his cot inside the boat, his back supported by what seemed to be his favorite deer, swaddled in a thick fleece blanket with a wool beanie on his head. And something was breathing against his neck.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw felt so stiff, his tongue swollen and hard to move… “Mmm’n?”

“Shh. Don’t move yet. You fell asleep outside.”

He had? Oh, cuss. Drakken knew he didn’t do well in the cold at all, but it had been pleasantly warm today and he hadn’t expected the temperature to drop so much once night fell. He’d just been so fascinated with the blinking stars, trying to find his favorite constellations… he hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten until it was too late, it seemed.

Omen shifted, reaching for one of his frigid hands. “Can you move your fingers? Here, try to squeeze my hand.”

The dragon complied, wincing as his digits twitched and flared up with a dull, but pulsing pain. “H’rrts,” he managed to slur out, loosely grasping Omen’s warm, furry paw for a short moment before letting go. Something was changing- he actually felt the cold now, his body breaking into little shudders and spasms, his teeth starting to chatter. Wasn’t he supposed to be warming up? There was something radiating warmth against his chest… a hot water bottle?

“C-Cold,” the dragon slurred, now full-on trembling. He heard Omen hum, felt their hands rub up and down his arms through the blanket, their nose press against his jugular. “It’s alright, sunflower. Your body’s just starting to work properly again,” they assured him. “It’s a good sign.”

Was it? Drakken didn’t know, as mustering complex thoughts was a little difficult at the moment. He tried to move his arms to lay his hands on the hot bottle, but Omen quickly stopped him. “No, Drace, love- don’t, please. Your hands will just hurt more if you do that, and it’ll send cold blood right to your heart. Let them warm up on their own.”

Drakken let out a quiet croak of complaint, but quickly gave up, too drained to fight it. Mrf.

Well, at least his chest and back felt warmer. Even Omen’s nose felt warm, and that was weird, because Omen’s nose always felt cool to him, and he knew this because the deer loved to sneakily press it in the crook of his neck to make him squeal and squirm, and he’d flush and mumble complains while the deer smirked at him, because they both knew he didn’t actually want them to stop.

Mmh. Omen was so mischievous. And their coat was always so soft, and warm like a baby chick, chick-chickadee. Drakken liked to press his nose to theirs, and laugh when they took an offended expression whenever he went in for a playful boop. They were so proud all the time. I come from a prestigious family of death omens! they’d say. Regal. So pretty.

Ah, he’d lost his train of thought. And Omen was looking at him weird. “You need to warm up more,” they said, gently maneuvering him to lay him down on his cot, adjusting the blanket and water bottle. Drakken complained with a quiet whine, which the deer stifled with a little hush. They’d make him tea, they said. They’d be back real soon, they promised.

Drakken watched his partner smile fondly at him, then walk out of the room, their hooves clicking on the wooden floor. Drakken sniffled, shivering in his blanket, numb tail twitching as it slowly wrapped itself around his waist in an attempt at self-soothing. Please don’t be long...

***

The fallow deer placed their hands against the table, taking a few deep breaths to calm down as the sound of boiling water filled the tiny kitchen.

They’d tried so hard to keep themselves from visibly panicking, when all they wanted to do was to scream and cry in the crook of his boyfriend’s scaly neck, and tell him how scared they’d been, how their blood had run cold when they’d found him, silent and still on the cold wood of the deck, his chest barely moving and lips so blue and no no nonono can’t lose him not him not him-

Hissssssssss

Their spiraling thoughts were drowned out by the distinct sound of the kettle whistling, snapping them out of it. They swore bitterly, rubbing their head and taking the kettle out of the fire- they couldn’t fall apart like this. They had to take care of Drakken first and foremost, make him feel safe. They weren’t the one being hurt here. Being outwardly worried would only make it worse.

They focused on stuffing Drakken’s preferred blend -black tea, ginger, clove, cinnamon- in a tea ball, pouring the hot water in a mug and leaving room for cold water. Infuse, get the honey, cool it down, too hot will hurt him, where’s the spoon, have to hurry...

***

“Here, I’m going to help you sit up, hang on. Up we go, c’mon… There, you’re doing great, good job love. Let me- no no, Drakken, keep your hands inside the blanket, alright? Let me give it to you. Your hands will hurt again if you try to hold it.”

Drakken gave Omen an affronted look -which made them smile a little bit- but complied. Now that the dragon was upright, Omen proceeded to hold his head up, gently pushing the mug to his lips and tilting it, letting him take a few tiny, cautious gulps.

He looked better- the frost had completely left his scales, and even though he was shivering still, he no longer seemed incoherent. He choked a little on the last gulp, and Omen gently rubbed his back until his coughing fit had subsided and he laid bonelessly against their side, but his breathing was steady, and so was his heart… “Feeling better?” they asked quietly, hand gliding up and down their boyfriend’s back. Drakken hummed tiredly, his cheek slightly smushed against Omen’s shoulder. “Y-Yeah… thank you…”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, punctuated by each other’s breathing and the occasional shaky whimper from the cold-blooded dragon. Before he spoke again. “ ‘m sorry…”

Omen tilted their head, antlers bumping against the wall. “What for?”

“Should’ve paid attention… been more careful. Made you worry.”

The child of Death frowned at that. “Do not concern yourself with that. It is fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“S’not though…”

The deer blinked when a cool hand grasped theirs- Drakken was shifting against them to look into their eyes, squeezing their fingers in a firmer grip than before. “You’re always- so careful, always thinking about protecting us. You always r-remind me to be careful when it’s cold, and I wasn’t careful enough, and I’m-made you worry and I’m sorry…”

Omen was stunned- Drakken had just experienced dangerous levels of hypothermia, yet he was concerned about how they felt?

Had they failed to conceal their fear so badly that even Drakken, out of it as he was, had been able to pick up on it?

They let out a shuddering breath, letting their head rest against the other’s, eyes clenched shut. Drakken knew them way too well. Their emotions, now bursting through the damn, making them feel like the lost, scared little kid they had been once. They said nothing, letting their boyfriend cup their face and brush over their fur knowingly. In this moment… there was no need for words.

His claws were sharp- dangerous. Yet he always touched them so gently, so carefully. Even now as his arms left his cocoon of blankets to wrap around Omen, pulling them down into a comforting hug.

“ ‘ey.”

“...Yes?”

“ ‘luv you, treasure.”

The deer felt a surge of affection swelling in their chest. “I love you too, sunflower,” they breathed out, voice a little bit shaky as they returned the dragon’s embrace.

And when Drakken squeaked when they pressed their nose in his neck, Omen knew he was going to be okay.

[amaru2020]

Hey everyone! So this is a Raya and the Last Dragon fic co-written with my amazing friend @hazellevesque4life! Go check out their blog it’s awesome! It will also be available on their AO3 which I will link right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30246006/chapters/74537121#workskin

don’t forget to leave plenty of kudos! We’ll try to update as often as possible! Now without further ado, let’s begin.

Chapters written by me, @amaru2020 will be marked like this 🟣

Chapters written by @hazellevesque4life will be marked like this 🔴

Summary: Raya and Namaari have to go on a road trip across kumandra to cure sisu's siblings of a curse

Cursed love

Chapter 1 🔴

“Namaari, I’ve been looking for you,” Virana called.

Namaari turned to face her mom, startled.

“Hi, Mom. I was just looking for Raya,” Namaari said.

Virana sighed. “You can find her later. First, walk with me.”

Namaari began to protest. She had to apologize to Raya for accidentally triggering an apocalypse.

But Virana stopped her before she could say anything. “I’m not saying you can’t talk to her, but this is more pressing.” She began walking.

She slipped her hand in her pocket and squeezed Raya’s golden hairband. It would be weird if she didn’t give it to Raya now. It might seem like she was trying to keep it. But her mom had just been turned to stone. And it would be horrible of her to not be there. Namaari released the hairband from her grasp. Namaari walked at the same pace as her mother.

“What did you need to talk about?” she asked.

“We need to head back to Fang.”

“What? We just got here. And Fang was destroyed by the Druun. Heart is the only place that has enough resources. We can’t go back yet.” Namaari hoped her mother didn’t think she was getting too riled up over this. But she still had things she needed to do here. Things she needed to tell Raya.

“That’s exactly why need to go back. Who do you think everyone is going to blame once the dust settles? We need to get ahead of the fray so that we aren’t reliant on Heart. We don’t know when they’ll turn on us. We need to rebuild so that we are strong when that happens.”

“But, shouldn’t we at least stay for a little while,” Namaari retorted, suddenly feeling anger swell up.

“We have to leave. To protect our people.”

And that was it. Her mother was the chief, and so her word was final.

Or it would’ve been. If Namaari hadn’t seen how the other had looked at her when the Druun cleared. After years of resentment, distrust, malice between everyone, there had finally been trust sent her way by people not from Fang. The last time she had seen that was when she was a child—again with Raya.

And even that hadn’t lasted long. Because of Fang’s need to protect themselves before anything. She wasn’t doing that again.

“No, Mom. We don’t have to leave. If you want to leave, I can’t stop you. But I’m staying here, trying to mend the bridges you burned.”

Virana looked at Namaari, contemplating. “Okay,” she said finally. “I trust you. But I’m not staying. If the other nations turn on us, I’m not having our people be helpless.”

Her mother was many things, but stupid was not one of them. If there was a way for her to make sure that Fang was self-sustaining while also keeping their relationship with the other nations, she would take it. None of them wanted conflict.

That calmed Namaari’s anger a little, but it didn’t completely soothe it. Her mother still expected conflict. She watched, wordlessly, as her mother turned and walked away.

Whatever. She couldn’t dwell on this. This was just more of a reason to go talk to Raya. Now if only she knew how to find Raya. Heart was weird, not like Fang at all. With its spiraling cityscape. Fang was contained on a much smaller piece of land, but Heart didn’t have that restriction. The buildings here were so much harder to navigate. Where would Raya be?

She thought back to the last time she was here. There was a huge central area, she recalled. Maybe Raya would be there, helping the people who had just arrived. Trying to use her foggy memories of the last time she was here, Namaari walked through the streets of Heart.

Finally, after too many confusing turns, Namaari found herself in front of the familiar hall where she and Raya had first bonded. The sounds of chatter echoes through the walls. So Namaari was right.

Taking a deep breath, she shoved the door open revealing people sprawled all over. And just like last time, it was people of all nations. This time, though, she noticed that more people were talking amongst people who weren’t from the same nation as they were. Namaari forced herself to stop thinking of that and to look for Raya.

She scanned the room, looking for Raya’s obnoxiously large hat. Her eye caught immediately: Raya, talking to her Ba.

Namaari stared at her, unsure of how she should talk to her when, mortifyingly, Raya looked up from her Ba. Their eyes met. Shit. Namaari lifted her hand in a small wave, trying to play it off as an accident.

Raya’s expression changed to —ugh— amusement. She motioned for Namaari to come over.

Mentally berating herself, Namaari walked towards Raya. She got a couple of curious glances from the other people of Fang.

“Hi, Raya,” Namaari said when she reached her.

“Hey! Are you okay? You were sort of staring at me from the doorway?” Raya was still looking down at her Ba, as she finished replacing the old bandages on his thigh with new ones where the crossbow bolt had hit him so many years ago. Namaari immediately felt a pang of guilt.

Oh, so she had noticed. “Yes. I’m fine.” Namaari refused to try to meet Raya’s eyes. “I, uh . . .” She what? Wanted to say she was sorry for telling Raya that Sisu’s almost-death had been her fault? Wanted to give back the golden hairband that she had kept like a creep? The words dissolved at her tongue. She and Raya hadn’t talked much since the Druun had been defeated. “Wanted to ask if you knew where Sisu was,” she lied.

“Oh,” Raya looked up. “I haven’t seen her all day actually. I’d check the clearing where her siblings were turned to stone the first time.”

Namaari wanted to shrink down. “I- I don’t know where that is.”

Surprisingly, Raya’s Ba spoke. “You should go with her.”

“But Ba, your leg-” Raya protested.

“Will be fine. It’s important to treat the other nations with respect.”

“. . . Okay,” Raya said, but the concern didn’t leave her face.

They walked together in complete silence. Namaari tried to keep track of the turns that they made so that she didn’t have to be led around like a child again, but Heart was too expansive that it was useless. She’d have to ask for a map or something.

Namaari was knocked out of her thoughts by Sisu’s voice.

“—Raya! I’m so glad you’re here, I was looking for you.” Panic laced Sisu’s voice.

Namaari sent Raya a concerned look. Raya glanced back at her. They spoke at the same time.”

“Sisu? What’s wrong?

“Are you okay?”

Sisu let out a strangled noise. “There’s something wrong with the other dragons!”

Chapter 2 🟣

Sisu gripped her tail with both paws as she began to pace, muttering things under her breath. “ “First Amba, then Pranee, now Jagan and Pengu…”

“The dragons? What do you mean there’s something wrong?” Raya said, finally finding her voice.

Sisu stopped to sit on her haunches. “I was hoping you could tell me! One minute they’re

normal, the next it’s like they didn’t even recognize their own sister!” She buried her head in her paws.

Raya and Namaari shared a worried look. Raya had never seen Sisu this distraught, which was cause for some concern. Raya felt Namaari give her a soft nudge before taking a couple of steps back. Raya raised an eyebrow over her shoulder in question, the only response she got was a gesture and look that could only be interpreted as ‘Not my place.’

Raya let out a small breath before cautiously beginning to approach the dragon. She tried to emulate the calm she had seen her Ba use many times in the past.

“Sisu... it’s ok, why don’t you just calm down and-“

Sisu’s head snapped up. “I’m calm, okay! It’s only my siblings turning into feral monsters, no big deal!”

Before she knew what was happening, Sisu had Raya dangling upside down from her leg, mere inches away from her furry snout. The whole situation gave Raya an intense feeling of déjà vu.

“I mean sure I did almost get attacked by my big brother today, but fine, let’s try it your way and stay, “calm.”” She used her free paw to make air quotes over the last word.

Raya only rolled her eyes. “Hey, at least I got you to speak in complete sentences.”

“That’s not the point!” Sisu said as she gave Raya a firm shake. Raya smirked and held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, but you need to still explain what’s going on. Can you do that?”

Sisu nodded.

“Good. Now put me down?” Raya asked as the blood had already rushed to her head.

“Right, Sorry.” Sisu said, chuckling sheepishly. She placed Raya gently on the ground, a nice change of pace from being dropped face first in her opinion.

Sisu frowned and picked up her tail and began to fiddle with it. Raya gave her an encouraging nod and touched the side of her neck, reminding the dragon she was there. This seemed to do the trick as Sisu finally began to open up.

“It all started with Amba, she’s usually so sweet and bubbly, she started to change. we thought it was just her having a hard time adjusting to being back after so long, and the stress of watching over Tail, but then when she attacked Jagan the other day, we knew it wasn’t that simple. then it slowly started happening to the others...” she trailed off, sounding remorseful.

Raya’s heart had dropped down to her stomach by the time Sisu finished her story. She had never heard of anything like this happening before. And for it to happen so soon after the Drunn wasn’t ideal. Raya rubbed her hand up and down were it was placed on Sisu’s neck at an attempt to comfort her.

“Don’t worry, Sisu. We’ll just let my Ba know what’s happening and I’m sure he’ll-”

“No!” Sisu yelped snapping out of her revere. She brought her head down so she could look directly into Raya’s eyes.

“No Ba! No people! No one can know about this!” “I know how tempting it is but we just can’t.” Sisu’s violet eyes bore into her own. Raya frowned. She wasn’t about to keep something this serious from her Ba. Especially not after all the time they had been apart. She tried to not let her annoyance seep through into her voice “Sisu, there’s no way we’re keeping this a secret. People, my Ba included, need to know what’s happening. They can help.”

Sisus' face turned indignant. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would want a repeat of the past six hundred years?”

Now it was Raya’s turn to look indignant. “How can you possibly compare the two when you don’t even know what’s going on?”

“You’re right, we don’t know what’s going on! Which is why we can’t say anything about it. Fear of the unknown is even worse than fear of the known!” Sisu said as she tugged at her mane.

“Sisu, I’m not keeping this from everyone, we’ve-!”

“Raya, doesn’t Heart have an archive or something

that might be able to help?” Namaari, who hadn’t said anything since they had arrived, interrupted..

Raya startled, nearly forgetting the other girl was there. She turned to face her.

“Well, yes but nobody is allowed inside. Sacred texts and all that.” Raya said.

“Except for the princess of Kumandra and her dragon and people friend?” Sisu asked, sounding more than a little hopeful. Raya shook her head. “Only the chief and the archivists are permitted to go inside. And besides, if I’m not allowed in, I doubt they’d let you two in. More so Namaari, no offense.”

Namaari gave a small shrug. “That’s fair.”

“Besides if we get caught, let’s just say I would probably never see either of you again.” Raya said.

“Then we won’t get caught.” Namaari nodded to Sisu. “And she’ll make sure of it.” Raya could practically see the gears turning in her head. They shared a look of understanding before looking back to the dragon, who was now looking a bit wary. And rightfully so.

“What? Why...are you two looking at me like that?”

[swordsandshields99]

Chapters: 4/6 Rating: Mature Day 5 - We are Family - TW: Depictions of character death; grief  @cactuarkitty​

Chapter Summary: After the suicide mission, Garrus goes to visit his family, and his mother one last time. Regret, grief, family, and bitter-sweet, beautiful closure. 

When Garrus awoke on the Octavian Frigate, he forgot where he was for a moment. It took him a bit to gather his surroundings, taking deep breaths and calming his subharmonics. It'd been so long since he wasn't either on Omega, or a Cerberus ship. He heard the loud engines of the Turian frigate, the familiar humming of 100 Turian subharmonics ringing throughout the ship. Right. Family. He was on his way to see his family. For the first time in, well almost 3 years. He had been about to book a flight for Palaven when his sister, Solana, texted him saying they wouldn't be there. They were on a colony near Sur'Kesh. Where the Helios Medical Institute was located.

His family would never know, that it was his donation of Collector tissues, all the credits he had, and a wonderful letter of clearance from Mordin, that was the reason his mother had qualified for the treatment. From his father and sister's perspective, an anonymous donation allowed room for one more Turian patient. They'd' never know it wasn't anonymous, and it wasn't a donation. Garrus was broker than broke after that payment. They'd never know that after the mission on Horizon, he would have begged Mordin to send a sample to help his mother. Luckily for him, he only had to ask and Mordin was more than happy to help. He also knew, that without the Salarian's clearance, it still wouldn't have been enough to get the project running in time to help his mom.

And even for all that, it still wasn't fast enough to truly help her. At first, it seemed it might slow down her disease. But only for a few months before she took a turn for the worse.

Garrus stood at the docking bay doors, waiting for his cab. When it arrived, he got in without a word and punched in the facility's name. The computer did the rest. He spent the drive trying to figure out what he would say. He had decided a long time ago not to inform his family about the money and the tissue samples. As much as it had done to help her, and as much as it had relieved his family from the pressures of trying to care for her at home, it was nothing compared to the fact that he wasn't there for them.

Yes, his mission this past year with Shepard was important. Important enough, or he wouldn't have done it. But the two years before that? Omega? No, not only could he not tell them about that anyway without enduring a shame he didn't think he could shoulder, he should have been at home. He should have been helping. So now what? Lie? Say that his past mission was three years instead of one?

There was no way in hell he would lie. Never to his family. Not to most, but never to them. So what? He knew, while his father might just be disappointed enough not to even ask, his sister would.

He stood outside the facility doors, before taking a deep breath and going in. He pulled up his omni-tool to send a group text.

G: Dad, Sol, I'm here. What room #?

D: Room 203

S: I'll come get you.

It only took Sol 45 seconds to enter the lobby, their father in tow behind her. He knew the second they saw him. Sol's shocked face, her mandible's splaying out in horror. His dad's pained subharmonics.

Sol didn't know. Couldn't have known. When he finally made contact again, he refused to vid-call, always coming up with excuses. And after he called his father right before he thought he was about to die, well maybe his father was expecting as much.

"Garrus," Sol said, a bit breathless. "Spirits, what happened to you?" Sol had grown up tough. Always trying to keep up with her big brother. And she always succeeded. Garrus wasn't sure what she did after her initial period of service, but even he didn't have the military clearance to know what she was up to. But in this moment, she was the most tender he had ever seen her. She reached her hand out tentatively, holding the side of his face that was horribly mangled and scarred. Her subharmonics were ringing, part sadness, part shock, and the smallest bit of 'ick'.

"Missile to the face," he said, the same joke (that wasn't actually a joke) he'd be making for the rest of his life.

Castis walked up to his son, head held high, hands clasped behind his back. "This happen after our phone call?"

Garrus' subharmonics wavered, sounding with a certain acceptance and gratefulness. His father's brow plates rose when he heard it. Perhaps the old man wasn't expecting gratitude at bringing up that phone call, but Garrus felt it none-the-less. He would always be grateful for that 50 second phone call. The one where his father gave him some peace when he thought he was in his final moments.

Castis could hear that from his son's subharmonics now. His hard exterior melted into a relieved one. Castis placed a hand on Garrus' shoulder, "It's good to have you back in one piece, Son." His own subharmonics rumbled with relief and, to Garrus' surprise, fatherly love.

Garrus fought down his emotions, "How's mom?"

They were both too silent. Garrus' knew that was answer enough. Sol's subharmonics wavered with regret and grief. His mother wasn't gone yet, but she would be soon. "Let's go see her," Castis said softly as he turned to lead his children to their mother's hospital room.

Garrus wasn't sure what he expected. The last time he saw his mother, she was forgetting things. She could never remember what she had just been doing, or where she left any of her things. She was forgetting who people were, like their neighbors. And it was so unlike her, his mother always with sharp wit and a sharper tongue, that it hurt all the more to see. Her hands and legs had been shaky, but if she concentrated she could control it. And that was three years ago. Corpalis Syndrome wasn't kind.

They entered the dimly lit room, monitor's beeping softly. "When she's sleeping, she's so peaceful that it's a relief. But, I always want her to wake up. So that I can be with her," Sol's second vocals wavered heavily, her subharmonics grief stricken. Hearing his sister cry was hard, even if they were both adults. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

Their mother gasped suddenly upon hearing them, her eyes shot open. She wheezed heavily, each breath a struggle. Her eyes darted around the room. Castis walked calmly to her side, "We're here, dear. You're alright."

"Who.. who are..." Garrus' mother began. If she didn't recognize Castis, there was no way in hell she'd recognize him. Especially with half his face blown off. "Ah... Cas-castis, dear." She stuttered horribly, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried desperately to clasp her bond-mate's hand. Castis reached out and held her hand tightly, but even that wasn't enough to stop the shaking. "Castis, I d-d-don't want t-to be h-h-here. P-please, where are we? T-t-take me home?!" Her voice was pain-stricken. Her subharmonics were wavering wildly, changing from scared to angry every other sentence. Garrus had never heard his mother sound scared a day in his life.

Garrus' felt Sol squeeze his hand as she whispered, "Dad thinks she's been waiting to see you Gar. She's been holding on."

Garrus' throat tightened and his hide itched at the thought. Had she? Spirits.

"We're here so you can be more comfortable, I promise my bonded," Castis said in a soothing tone.

"She'd want to be at home at the end. But the medicine is keeping her as comfortable as we can manage. Without it, she'd be in too much pain. Everything is just... shutting down so quickly," Sol said quietly.

"Look, bonded, the kids are here to see you."

Garrus' mother looked at the pair. "Kids... we have kids?"

Garrus felt horrified, but Sol acted like it was just another Tuesday. "Hi mom, it's Solana," his sister said as she approached the bed so her mother could see more clearly.

"Sol! When did you get here?" his mother said happily, chirping as if Sol was 10 years old. "Are you being good?"

"Yes, I promise," Solana said with a forced laugh. Sol looked back at him and gave him a forceful look.

So he stepped forward. "Hi mom, it's me, Garrus," he said, taking his sister's lead.

"Garrus. You're not Garrus," his mother said, furry in her eyes. "Not my Garrus." His mother looked at Castis then, "Garrus is at target practice out back, isn't that right Castis?"

"No dear, this is Garrus. Isn't he all grown up now? He's been away on a mission."

"A mission? My, aren't we so proud of him Castis," his mother said as she turned back to him. Suddenly, her eyes cleared and her subharmonics rang out with motherly affection and love. "Garrus... my Garrus. You've been hurt."

"Hey mom," Garrus said, relief flooding his bones. "Yeah, all better now though, promise."

She nodded. "You'll be alright. You'll see," she said with meaning behind the words. He felt like keening right then and there, but fought it down. She always knew what to say. She tried reaching out for him, so he got closer and held her other hand in his. "I love you, my son. I'm not sure what your mission was, or what your next one will be, but your mother always believes in you." And just as quickly as it came, the moment of clarity vanished. She wrenched her hand from his. "Who are you?" she said angrily. "Castis, where's Castis?!"

"I'm here," Castis said, grasping for control of his emotions. "I'm right here."

"Castis," she wheezed as she looked at her bond-mate. "It... it hurts."

Castis keened, his control slipping. He regained control of his vocals and subharmonics quickly and said, "I'll give you more medicine, bonded. Hold on."

"It hurts," his mother whispered. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts." Her body stiffened and shook for a split second, and when she relaxed again continued quietly, "Castis, my hurt. My hurt. My hurt."

Castis fumbled with the button and pressed it twice, and slowly it seemed as if she had drifted to sleep. The family stood in silence for a moment before she whispered, "Castis. Take me to the window?"

"Bonded?" he asked, unsure if she was in her right mind or if she meant it.

"I long to see the stars again, just once," she wheezed.

Castis scooped her up in his arms, and Garrus saw just how tiny and fragile his mother was. Castis pinned down her arms, but her legs shook still. Garrus saw the cords getting pulled, so he pushed the medicine trolley behind them.

Castis brought her to the window and opened the curtains. Garrus thanked the Spirits the stars were visible that night. His mother gazed at the bright stars for a few silent moments with his father before she turned her head into Castis' chest and whispered, "Starlight and dancing?"

Castis chuckled softly. "Starlight and dancing. Always."

Garrus wasn't sure what it meant, but it was clearly meaningful to them.

The slow and erratic beeping of her heart monitor slowed. Castis went rigid, and Garrus heard the low, mournful rumblings of grief begin to form in his father's subharmonics. They listened to the heart monitor in silence, until 5 minutes later, it stopped. A Salarian doctor came to the door, and without disturbing anyone in the room, checked his mother's pulse. He made a note in his omni-tool. "I'm sorry," the doctor said quietly, and left the room.

Castis collapsed in the chair near the window, still holding his bond-mate in his arms. The rumble that Garrus heard earlier grew louder and louder until the subharmonics were nearly deafening. Garrus wasn't sure how humans couldn't hear something so loud. Something so utterly bone shattering. Solana began keening quietly, and he drew her close, hugging her tightly. And Garrus did what he always did. He shut it off. All of it. He clamped down as hard as he could on his subharmonics and was silent.

After 30 minutes passed, Solana's keening died down as she said, "I guess she was waiting for you."

And just like that, he shattered. He dropped to his knees and put his head in his hands, keening louder than he ever had as a child. He felt Sol kneel down beside him and embrace him as she too keened, but more softly. He felt his fathers hands on them, his subharmonics naturally rumbling comforting tones to his children. Garrus wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually he came back to himself. Sol had fallen asleep, so he picked her up and set her in the chair next to them. He looked over at the bed. His father must have placed their mother their before coming to them.

A different Salarian with a lab coat came in then. "I'm sorry for you loss, Vakarian clan. I wish there was more that could have been done." The Salarian turned to Garrus. "She was lucky to have such a devoted son. With your permission, the Institute would appreciate keeping the samples and donations you sent. While we are incredibly sorry that it was not in time to help your mother, the research we are conducting now with the tissue samples you sent will most certainly help us find a cure, and many others in the future will be spared."

Garrus nodded his head numbly.

"Thank you, Mr. Vakarian." The Salarian turned to Castis. "Senior Vakarian, please take your time here. When you are ready, please indicate what you would like our next steps to be. We can take care of her here, or send her home to Palaven, but we must prepare her either way."

Castis nodded, and the Salarian left.

"What?" Sol suddenly asked. She must have woken from the Salarian.

"What?" Garrus asked.

"Samples and donations?"

Shit, he thought. Garrus sighed. His mind was fuzzy, and he didn't have the capacity to think clearly at the moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Garrus," his father said, his subharmonics sounding panicked. "Tissue samples... yours? Son, do you have Corpalis?" His father's second vocals wavered so intensely Garrus worried he might fall over. Sol's subharmonics joined in with panic.

"No! No. No, the... the samples, I," it took more than he had to explain the collectors right now.

"Son, please, I," Castis started.

"No, I promise, I don't. The tissue samples are... they're Collector tissue samples. I worked with an STG agent when we acquired them. We believed they showed capabilities to cure some neurological diseases. And it turns out we were right. I thought I'd have to wait until we went through Omega-4, but the Collectors came early. Sent in the tissue samples, with the Agent's approval to move ahead with the Institue's Corpalis project."

Castis was visibly relieved, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of his chair. "Spirits," he said softly, his eyes closing.

"You... you did all that for mom?" Sol whispered. "And, donations?"

Garrus sighed, hanging his head heavily. He hadn't wanted this. Still didn't want this. "Every credit I've earned the past 3 years has gone to getting mom into the project." He stood angrily. "And it was all for nothing. I wasn't... I wasn't fast enough. It wasn't enough." His hands balled into fists, so tight his talons broke skin.

He felt Sol's hand on his arm. "Garrus, even if Dad and I had been able to save for 10 years, we couldn't have paid for mom's treatment. Do you have anything left?"

"I sold my apartment, and everything I own, and took every job I could take. And my last mission was assigned to be a suicide mission. I wasn't supposed to come back from that, but it paid well. Well enough to pay for 75% of the treatment."

"So, the missile incident wasn't even the suicide mission?" Castis said.

Garrus shook his head, "No, just a job gone wrong."

"I'm sorry," Sol said abruptly.

"For what, Sol?" he murmured.

"When we spoke before your last mission, I... well I thought you had just abandoned us. I was so harsh... so mean, and you were on your way to what, die in a mission while saving mom? Garrus, I had no idea."

"Sol, you couldn't have known. And even if you had known, you were still right. I wasn't here. Wasn't here for her."

"G, you were here for her. Fighting for her every day. You heard her, she believed in you. She knew you. You were doing what we couldn't. That's what families do."

Before he could argue, his father cut in. "Garrus, you said it was for nothing, that it wasn't fast enough," Castis said with a sigh. "Before she came here, it was worse than what you saw today. We weren't equipped.. I.. wasn't equipped to handle your mother's care. She needed around the clock care and medicine. She was lingering, not bad enough to die, but bad enough to be in constant misery. She couldn't talk, at all. Not at all. This treatment saved us. It saved her. Saved her spirit, her dignity, gave her peace and relief from the pain. It gave her," Castis choked up, "it gave her a much better end than what we could have given her. I would've given anything for that, for her." He walked up to his son, "Not enough? Garrus, it was everything."

[chelsfic]

Leftovers Part 9 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

A/N: Quick note-- most roller derby leagues don’t actually take a break from practicing during the off-season *shrug.* Hey, hey, hey, guys? Let me know what you think! I am an ACTUAL ENERGY VAMPIRE, but I feed off your kind words and support--love you!

Summary: Nandor is on the reader’s shit list, but will they reunite when a minor medical emergency pops up? (yes)

Warnings: Female Reader-insert, Angst, Medical shit (migraines, lasting effects of the vamp attack at the rave), Hypnotism

---

“Guillermooo! I’m ready for my slumber now!” Nandor bellows, standing impatiently by his open coffin and waiting for his familiar to arrive so he can complete his bedtime routine.

Guillermo appears, huffing and puffing, a moment later, “I’m sorry, master! I forgot…”

“Well, that’s unacceptable, Guillermo!,” Nandor whines with a scowl. “You’re my familiar. It’s your job to remember these things. You’d think after five years--”

“Eleven,” Guillermo interjects with a pained smile. “Eleven years, master.”

Nandor looks momentarily shocked before regaining his momentum, “Okay...Eleven years… Fine. You’d think that you would remember to come and help me get ready for bed. It’s not that difficult.”

Guillermo lets the scolding roll off his back. He knows his master is hurting. In truth, Nandor hasn’t wanted Guillermo’s help at bedtime in weeks. It’s only now that his coffin is feeling a little lonely that he’s reverting back to his old ways. Guillermo rushes to untie his master’s cravat and helps him slip off the heavy cape. The vampire looks temporarily mollified.

“Very well,” Nandor sniffs, taking Guillermo’s hand as he steps up into the coffin. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo smiles lightly and moves to take hold of the coffin’s lid. Nandor suddenly reaches up to stop him.

“Guillermo…” he fidgets and avoids eye contact as he asks, “Do you think she’ll be angry with me for much longer?”

Guillermo looks down at his master, feeling contrary ties of loyalty tugging on him as he decides what to say.

In the end he takes pity on Nandor, reaching down to pat his soft hair and murmuring, “I’m sure she’ll forgive you soon, master.”

“Thank you, Guillermo,” Nandor sighs, shutting his eyes and crossing his hands over his chest. “You’re a good familiar.”

He gently closes the lid, feeling a happy swell in his chest despite his concern. It’s been a few days since the orgy and his friend still hasn’t shown any signs of forgiving Nandor. He knows she’s hurt, but Guillermo silently hopes things will smooth over soon. An angsty vampire makes for an unhappy familiar.

---

After Nandor let you out of the basement you ran to the shower, dousing yourself in steaming water to chase the chill out of your body. But no matter how many hot showers or layers of clothing you put on, you can’t ever seem to warm up. At least not on the inside. In the span of just a few days you’ve gone from the heights of happiness to the dumps of misery. The worst part is that you’re not even angry anymore. You’re numb to it. All you want is to fall back into Nandor’s arms and let him make you feel good like no one else has.

But…

It’s not that he slept with who knows how many people at the orgy. It’s not even that he locked you in a basement and forgot about you. It’s that he treated you like a thing. Like his possession, whose feelings and thoughts are insignificant in the face of almost eight hundred years of immortal life. For a little while Nandor made you feel special, and then he’d gone and ruined it.

You don’t even have your usual outlet! Bout season is over and practice won’t start up again for another month. And to make matters even better: all this drama seems to be aggravating your stupid brain because, for the first time in weeks, you’re feeling the dragging ache in your head left by the vampire attack at the rave. It’s been a dull, throbbing pain for a couple days now, but tonight it’s grown into a pulsing, stomach-churning migraine. You lock yourself up in your room with the lights off. The housemates probably assume you’re brooding over Nandor. But mostly...you’re just in pain. And scared.

It’s after midnight and the pain shows no signs of diminishing. You finally drag yourself out of your room, squinting blearily against the blinding glare of the candlelight, and seeking out one of the two licensed drivers in the house.

---

“The closest urgent care is on Richmond, but according to the Google reviews, we’ll have shorter wait times if we drive a bit farther to the one on Victory Boulevard. Of course, it’s entirely up to you but--”

“Colin,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper, “can you please take me to the closest one and maybe try to resist the urge to feed? I already feel like shit.”

Colin pauses, tightening his fingers on the steering wheel and saying, quietly, “I wasn’t...I was just trying to be helpful.”

You immediately feel guilty and then you question if, in fact, he’s still feeding. Being friends with an energy vampire is...draining.

He drives you to the urgent care, walking inside the crowded waiting area with you and taking charge of your intake paperwork. Okay, now you could kiss him, because bureaucracy is like Colin’s native language and you’re pretty sure he uses some of his power to manipulate the staff into getting you seen sooner. In under an hour you’re leaving with a prescription and feeling a little less anxious about the possibility that you might drop dead from an aneurysm. 

You’re pulling out of the pharmacy parking lot and back out onto the road when a small, squeaking, flying thing suddenly soars through your open window and erupts in the backseat, transforming into your dark, sullen vampire lover. 

You shriek in alarm, looking out the window and noting the lightening sky on the horizon. Your heart jumps up into your throat, “Nandor! What are you doing, it’s almost daybreak!”

Nandor sits forward in his seat and leans in close to you as he speaks, “Guillermo told me you have been to the human medical shamans! What is wrong, my human?”

“It’s...nothing, Nandor. I’ll be fine. I had a bad migraine,” you mumble. You’re too exhausted to be having this conversation.

Nandor continues, unphased, “Then you should have come to me, not fucking Colin Robinson!”

“Why?” you blurt out, suddenly done with avoiding the hurt you’ve been dwelling in for days. “Because you care about me? Or because I’m your property?”

Nandor looks bewildered, “You are my human…”

You shake your head violently, turning away in your seat with an angry growl.

“...And I do care, my love…”

Sighing, you fix your eyes on the metal guardrail at the side of the road as it flashes by. Colin Robinson is sitting rigid in the driver’s seat, beaming as he gulps down the emotions flooding the vehicle. Nandor reaches out to curl his fingers through your hair just as the first rays of sunlight break over the horizon.

“Nandor, the sun!” you cry, all thoughts of your hurt and anger flying from your head. You turn around in your seat to lock eyes with your lover for one meaningful instant before he transforms into his bat form. 

You scramble for the purse at your feet, upending it onto the floor before holding it up and frantically gesturing to the flapping little bat in the backseat. 

“Get in, baby!” you plead, uncertain of how much communication actually gets through in this form.

You breathe a shaky sigh of relief as Nandor flies into the bag, curling up at the bottom with a frightened squeak. 

“Fucking hell,” you mumble. Your heart is racing in your chest. Cautiously, you open the purse to peer inside at the furry, winged creature who is...your boyfriend. You reach in and gingerly stroke your fingers over his little head. The bat’s teeth close on one finger in an affectionate, soft bite. “You’re okay now…”

Colin Robinson pulls up outside the house and turns to you with his eyes blazing, “Well, this has been quite the night!”

---

You carry Bat-Nandor into his room, taking him out of your bag and gently placing him in the fur-lined coffin. Even though you’re expecting it, you can’t help but jump back when he transforms before your eyes. You’re still not used to witnessing actual magic. 

He looks up at you with a look that’s all soft, liquid eyes and remorseful submission. 

“Will you stay with me?” he asks diffidently, toying with a tuft of rich fur on the coffin lining. “Please?”

You weigh your options. On the one hand you really miss falling asleep in Nandor’s strong arms, with the comforting scent of him wrapped around your body like a blanket. And when you pause for a moment you realize that the ache in your head hasn’t bothered you since he flew into Colin Robinson’s car. 

On the other hand…

“Is there anything you want to say to me, first?” you prompt, arching your brow expectantly. 

Nandor swallows his pride, thinking back to those horrible days when Guillermo left him for fucking Celeste. He sits up and takes your hand in his as he says, “I’m sorry I treated you like a belonging and not a person. I appreciate you very much. And I--I love you. And also, I’m sorry for forgetting about you and Guillermo in the basement…it probably won’t happen again.”

You let out a laugh, tears stinging your eyes as you reply, “I love you too, Nandor. And...I’m sorry, too. I don’t even care anymore about the stupid orgy anymore. But I should have...tried to understand it more. I think.”

Nandor sits up, grasping your face between his hands and pulling you in closer. 

“I wanted you with me at my side, my mortal,” he hisses, dropping little kisses onto your lips. “One day you will be. I’ll make you a vampire and together we will be the life of every vampire orgy. We’ll feast on virgin blood and make love until the end of time.”

Before you can form anything approaching a reaction, he claims your mouth with his, sucking your lower lip and pushing his tongue forward to tangle with yours. You cling to the fur collar of his coat, hanging on for dear life as your knees go weak. Every time you kiss it feels like you’re diving into a hot spring, losing yourself so deliciously to the sensation of his touch.

“You want that don’t you, my mortal?” he pants against your lips, reaching down to casually lift you off your feet and settle you on his lap. “Immortal life? Immortal love?”

He pauses kissing you and you rest your cheek against the top of his head, enjoying the soft brush of his hair against your skin. Do you want that? To be a vampire? To never see the sun again? To drink blood to live? To never say goodbye to this beautiful, idiot man you seem to love?

“Yes, Nandor,” you murmur, pressing your lips into his hair and breathing his scent. “I do.”

He leans his head back and kisses you once more, running his lips over your cheeks, your jaw, the long column of your exposed throat.

“Uhm!” you interrupt, a little panicked. “But not this minute, right? You have to give me some warning…”

Nandor chuckles, smoothing his hands up and down your back in reassurance.

“No, mortal. Dawn isn’t exactly an ideal time to make a new vampire…”

“Oh...okay, good,” you sigh, settling down into his arms once more. “Because I have one condition…”

---

A little while later, you’re sealed up, snug as a bug in Nandor’s coffin, with his arms wrapped around you and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. You press a kiss to his cool skin and his chest rumbles with a satisfied purr. For the first time in hours and hours your skull doesn’t feel like it’s about to crack in two and you ponder the reason for that. Of course, like all vampires, Nandor has the power of hypnosis. Maybe his very presence has a soothing effect? Like he transmits a frequency that cancels out whatever that asshole did to you?

“Nandor?” you whisper, unsure if he’s fallen asleep yet or not.

“Yes, my mortal?” he answers at once, tightening his arms around you.

“When I’m with you my head doesn’t hurt so bad… But, do you think--do you think that vampire did some kind of...lasting damage?” the question has been on the back of your mind ever since the attack but you’ve been too afraid to give a voice to your worry. 

A low growl escapes his throat as he replies, “That shit chicken vampire hurt you because he can’t even hypnotize correctly.”

“But...” you pause, steeling yourself. Are you really about to put this level of trust in him? “You can fix it, can’t you?”

Nandor pauses, swallowing down a lump of nerves as he considers. He wants nothing more than to make you feel better. But there was the time he and Laszlo gave Sean the brain scramblies…

But this time would be different. He would be so, so gentle. So careful…

He raises the lid of the coffin, sitting up and pulling you with him. A few candles still flicker from the tables around the room, forgotten in his eagerness to have you in his arms. Nandor’s pale skin glows faintly in the low light, the lines of his body lost in shadows. 

“Look into my eyes, little human,” he commands, his voice is deep and drawling. 

You obey, looking up at him as your body visibly trembles. You’re frightened.

“Shh,” Nandor hushes, running his hands up your arms and settling them onto your shoulders. “I’m going to take care of you.”

You nod, remembering how fragile and weak he’d felt when you’d carried his bat-form in your hands. You can give him the same trust. You can put yourself in his hands now and know that he won’t hurt you.

His dark eyes burn with intensity as he continues, “You are now under my command…”

---

A/N: I require CAKES AND CREAMS!! Candies and streamers and sticky, sticky toffee! Actually I just need some soft comments because I AGONIZED over this??!?!?!?! 

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@festering-queen @kandomeresbitch @strangestdiary @glitterportrait @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows @sarasxe​ @rileyomalley​