#not much though -- it basically flurried a tiny bit for a few minutes

[victorluvsalice]

-->With everyone back home, and a light snow starting to fall (I mean, it IS winter now), it was time to continue with the chores! Alice milked Moory and cleaned out her shed before licking herself clean (hey, if you've got the ability...); Smiler did some recycling, moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer, and chatted with the chickens for a bit (they were more receptive to their jokes, happily); and Victor had a lonely breakfast in the kitchen before heading out to the greenhouse to do the regular rounds of tending and harvesting! As he basically always does.

-->But today, he didn't have to do it alone, because not only were Elmer and Bugs still active (at least for a little bit, before they had to be turned off to avoid explosions), Smiler and Alice came in to help out too! Because it's not fair to leave it on Victor and the bots all the time. Smiler did some fertilizing with some of the Shadow poops they'd picked up in the past and applied some mite treatment to the cranky bees, while Alice used her werewolf super speed to assist with the harvesting of a few key plants that would need canning later. :) It wasn't much, but it was something. I'm sure Victor appreciated it. :)

-->With the fertilizing done and green beans and green peas picked, Smiler and Alice had a quick chat while Victor finished up the weeding and watering and such, then headed off to do their own things while Victor did the big harvest -- Smiler flying up to their room to answer comments on their Simstube videos before coming back downstairs for a dance, while Alice played with the lump of clay and did a bit of scavenging (no goodies, though). Victor finished up the harvest around 3 PM, but by that point was starting to feel the fact that he'd stayed up all night -- fortunately, a quick cash-in at the rewards store got him a cup of Sleep Replacement potion. One quick down of that, and he and his beloveds were ready to head to their store!

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hello there, I really liked your writing and especially the prompt with enemy forces attack and lack of oxygen! May I ask you to write it with Perceptor and Drift? (Separately, just in case). Thank you in advance!)

Got a ninja boy and a science boy here for you anon!

Got some links to the previous posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: You're Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Perceptor

·Your arrival on the ship required him to work with the medics to ensure you could survive on it, and that obviously included working with you quite frequently to gather data, which eventually evolved into you assisting directly as the upgrades were put into place. Though he was initially hesitant to admit your presence was nice and he briefly stalled on finishing the upgrades just to spend more time together, you wore him down enough that he eventually relented and confessed to wanting you around. In the short time since things have come very far, enough so that he freely requests your aid in projects, chatting idly as he makes use of your tiny size and encouraging demeanor.

·This is exactly what you're up to today, though you're in the shooting range as opposed to your usual set up in the lab. While he's more than confident in his ability to handle this experimental weapon, he needs it here for when it's finally tested, and your small hands are ideal for a final stability check. A barely observable feeling in his spark registers as excited pride for you to see the weapon in action, but he keeps that to himself... It's bad enough someone walked in on the two of you holding hands as much as your differing sizes allowed the other day, and he doesn't need any more embarrassment.

·There's still a tiny smile on his face as he takes the first few shots, and the accuracy combined with the little cheer from you makes it impossible to keep it from growing. He's about to remark that this is only the first trial of the adjustable blaster, and thus not inductive of its real potential, when he's interrupted by a garbled communication. As you watch him answer, it's hard to hold back reasurance at the hint of frustration on his face, because you know him well enough to understand he doesn't appreciate the disturbance while trying to show off to you. Perhaps one day you'd let him know how easy he was for you to read.

·Well accustomed to frantic requests for his assistance, Perceptor finds himself unexpectedly surprised when the transmission is nearly inaudible, and the message from the bridge proves to be nothing more than a few broken sentences mentioning crashes and security systems before going dead. Not certain what could possibly be causing the ship he personally inspects to suffer malfunctions but knowing it must be corrected, he immediately plans to set off and get to the bottom of things. Securing the weapon into its holster on his back, he offers his hand to transport you with him, surmising you'll be safest with him at least until they have a better idea of what's going on. Of course he already has some theories, but he never acts without evidence.

·Glad to come along, even if only to help him run through some ideas, you happily take your place in his palm. Being without a vehicular mode means he pretty much had to get accustomed to carrying you everywhere he wanted to take you, as it takes quite a few steps for you to match one of his. Now he rather likes being able to hold you in a way that enables easy conversation, especially because as he walks and looks down to you in his palm and you look up at him with those genuinely fascinated eyes... It's nice. Currently he's listing the usual suspects for spacefaring trouble; solar flares, electric storms, debris collisions, and how none of them seem the likely culprit here for various reasons. You've seen him enter this state of unparalleled focus many times, and can't help but wish the circumstances could be better, because you love seeing him in his element.

·Both of you have a rather unfortunate awakening when a series of tremors pass through the ship and nearly knock him to the floor, something he prevents with quick reflexes that momentarily turn your world dark, a phenomenon you realize in an instant was caused by both of his hands cupping protectively around you. When they part you're left peaking upwards through digits at a somewhat concerned and bashful bot. Affirming you're alright, you watch as he gets moving again in an instant, now in full crisis mode after your little tumble. You know enough to be equally concerned by this turn of events, particularly because spaceships aren't known for their tremors.

·Talking as he walks, he has every one of his sharp senses on full alert for the trouble he knows will be coming, including his sense of touch to keep tabs on your small body in his hands. Being aware of every single potential problem means he knows quite well you could be in danger already. It worries him, to a level of concern he's not accustomed to feeling after experiencing so much combat. You can see the anxiety he's trying so hard to work through. There's a crackle in his spark that bots only have when very on edge, and you're close enough to hear it through his armored chest, spurring you to reach out and lay a hand against the warm metal. For a moment his optics meet your eyes, and at your reassuring smile he seems to regain some measure of calm control. His mind quickly uses that to put together a plan.

·While that tremor very likely came from an anchoring weapon on an enemy vessel, none of that explains the system shutdowns precluding it, and he needs to know the full extent of the threat before he can launch a counterattack. Most bots would need a well established access point to get diagnostics for the whole ship, but thankfully he's a bit more skilled than that. Explaining that he merely needs a workstation with any kind of physical connection to the main network, he begins what he is certain will be a quick search, and while you're delighted by the boost he obviously feels thanks to feeling in control you're a bit too tired to celebrate. Not wanting him to know the stress of the situation is wearing you down, your smile remains steadfast to give him the strength he needs.

·As he predicted, finding something suitable for his needs is a breeze, and he's so distracted by the impending answers he doesn't notice you growing drowsy in his palms. Though the small room is little more than a relay station for routine power inspection, it's perfect for what he has planned, and he places you on a nearby table as he gets to work. Even if your head were clear the flurry of activity he follows with wouldn't make sense. Somehow a motley collection of dust covered components becomes rewired into a humming piece of... something in what feels like minutes, and you absolutely beam with pride to see your partner pulling up the information he needs on a monitor, heavy eyelids lifted by your desire to watch him work more wonders.

·Data starts flowing through his makeshift diagnostic scanner in moments, and Perceptor watches intently as the ship's systems flash their readouts in order, though even he can't keep his expression calm as he all too rapidly puts together the horrifying pieces. They haven't just been boarded; they've been sabotaged. Most of the damage is meant to neuter their defenses and hinder any attempt at an organized counterattack, but one key readout tells him that you in particular are in the most dire need of assistance. The atmospheric generators and oxygen stabilizers he personally optimized for your benefit are going haywire, and the air you need to survive is rapidly being drained from the ship. The sheer size of the vessel, and the ability of its crew to keep the attackers at bay for this long, is the only reason you're still alive. In an instant he's on the move.

·You're cupped in oversized palms just as you realize you were laying down for a nap you didn't know had snuck up on you. Bleary in your head as well as your eyes, you hear him speak in the flat, rapid manner that he only uses when something critical is on the line. While his inflection is clear enough for you to catch his basic meaning, for the life of you it's just not possible to panic as much as you should, and his explanation of a plan doesn't register in the slightest. You know it should, and you feel awful for being so calm while he needs you, but the strength for you to be what he needs just isn't there. There is enough clarity for you to register one thing though, namely how closely he's cradling you to his chest. Such an open display of caring and concern is usually not something you see from him. A part of you rather likes it.

·Cold fear that he's come quite unaccustomed to creeps through him as he takes off through the ship. The medical bay is his ideal destination, as he helped create the human catered medical equipment already there, but he knows that time being of the essence means he has to plan for every possible situation, including those far from ideal. What matters is getting you oxygen, fast. The data on human biology made it impossibly clear; every minute without adequate oxygen is critical. Horrifying possibilities run through his mind, the diagrams of cell death he memorized almost taunting him as you appear to grow weaker with every passing breath. Feelings he'd long since forgotten, powerlessness and grief, eat away at him as he internally bemoans his lack of an altmode.

·You feel incredibly guilty as he grows more panicked, but sleep beckons far too strongly for you to resist it long. There's a part of you that knows his incredibly brilliant mind struggles when he doesn't feel in control, to the point he breaks reality at times to regain that handle on the world around him. So seeing you like this and being unable to do much in the moment... no doubt it's tearing him apart. Words don't come easy at the moment, and in fact you realize there's no way to form them at all, but still you try to reassure him. There's so much panic in the spark he holds you beside, and you do everything you can to convey that none of this is his fault. Gently splaying your fingers over the warm metal, you feel the world around you become little more than a blur.

·For a moment the path before him is filled with enemies. He nearly barrels into them rounding a corner, but not a moment is wasted once he has a full count of their number. One hand cradling you protectively, his other grabs the weapon he'd been testing with you before, and the still recovering alien soldiers become nothing more than an impromptu accuracy test. Even for him the precise carnage that follows is unimaginable. A series of heads jerk backwards before hulking bodies go limp, and in mere moments the threat is little more than a pile of confused looking corpses, but there's no time to celebrate. He's off with the weapon in hand for any future attacks.

·You hear him speaking to you as the last vestiges of your strength finally give way. He's trying to sound calm as he urges you to retain consciousness, but for once it's a losing effort, as you can hear the crack in his performance. It makes you sadder than anything else thus far. Particularly because you simply can't stay awake a moment longer. There's just too much weight in your limbs, and the warm darkness promises you a break, so you simply have to give in. All you can hope is that he'll understand neither one of you is to blame, and that you'll be able to wake up and tell him that yourself, but you're not especially worried about the latter half.

·He feels you go completely limp just as the medical bay and laboratory signs come into view. Now in a blind desperation, he makes a split second decision to head for his lab, reasoning that the medical bay will certainly be crowded due to current circumstances. Everything he'll need can be found in his various tools, and he can't waste a moment waiting on anyone else, even the medics. He can recall so clearly the human texts now, how the phenomenon of suffocation was described, and the resulting smothering of irreplaceable cells... Your tiny body is still breathing, but how much damage has already been inflicted? What parts of you has he failed to save? Not knowing is tearing him apart.

·Brainstorm is the only one in the lab, and he looks momentarily relieved to see Perceptor enter, saying something about restoring communication before catching sight of the little body in his hands. A frantic recommendation to bring them to the medical bay is met with curt dismissal as he lays you on an open work slab. There's no time to entrust this to anyone else, and in his mind the supplies he needs are already listed clear as day, including where to find them and what order he needs them in to maximize efficiency. Conscious thought is almost nonexistent as he works with record speed. The only times he stops are when his traitorous optics glance to your tiny body, and each glimpse is like an icy dagger to his spark. This isn't it. It can't be it. He won't lose the one he cares about more than anything.

·The tank of oxygen and the human sized ventilation system are hooked up to your frightfully still face with the care of a diamondsetter. He's able to get the readings of your improvement quickly, as the oxygen levels in the ship were apparently not yet low enough to do real damage, but he feels no comfort. All of his mind is still in chaos from the helplessness he can't yet shake. The fog is so deep that he barely notices Brainstorm return with a glowering Ratchet, and he only replies in curt affirmations or negations when the medic begins questioning your condition, doing so somewhat gruffly due to the inconvenience of having to move you later. With only a confirmation from the other mech you'll be in his care, he heads back out into the ship, weapon in hand and optics cold as he sets about securing Autobot victory one shot at a time.

·By the time you awaken the battle is over and the Lost Light is back to near total functionality. A calm voice instructs you to keep your oxygen mask on just a little longer to be safe, and you see Perceptor sitting beside you in the small recovery room. Having the basic pieces of everything more or less clear in your head, your immediate concern is him, which is only made worse by the scratches and scuffs on his usually well maintained armor. Barely able to stay where you are, the questions begin to pour forth as you reach a hand out to him. There's an uncharacteristically exhausted smile on his face as he reaches out a servo for you to hold. The expression is an obvious mask, made only more strained by the fake flatness of his assurance that he's fine, and that he only endured minor damage while cleaning out the last of the enemy. You know he's lying about that and more.

·Despite your ability to read him, you're still surprised when he cracks in a heartbreaking moment. His shoulders shake, his helm falls forward, and he leans heavily against the berth as your gentle prompt forces it all to the surface. By his standards he's a wreck, though his sobs are barely audible and could easily be mistaken for rough ventilations, and he makes it clear he's aware of how pathetic he looks. But how can he be okay? You needed him, and it was his own system that had failed you, with a second rate cyber attack no less. He should have seen that coming from the onset! He should have prepared! He can't seem to find the ground beneath him as he shakes, and in that instant you find strength far beyond your tiny body, and you use it to claw your way towards him. Seeing this makes him panic, and when he tries to gently stop your efforts you grab him tight, looking deep into those optics as you remind him he doesn't have to know everything. There will be times he's up against the unknown and unexpected, but his determination and strength have always driven him forward, and that's what you fell in love with. As you speak he seems to regain himself, and you hold him as tight as you can while emphasizing that even if everything feels out of control, you'll always be here to figure it out beside him. There's a sigh of relief he doesn't bother to hide as his world stabilizes, and once again you and he are right where you belong, hand in hand at the center.

Drift

·Having spent time on earth made him rather familiar with humans, and that combined with his first hand experience being an outsider in a group made him determined to ensure you were welcome on the ship. Needless to say, his efforts were more than a little successful. Now he's trying to teach you self defense in your shared quarters, which requires some creative thinking to ensure your safety. He's still got you using lightweight staffs in the place of anything sharp, and being a beginner, you can't complain too much. Though it's hard not to laugh when something occasionally gets bonked, yourself included, and even he chuckles despite all attempts to appear the dedicated teacher. Even with these distractions you learn a lot, but it's hard not to just enjoy how gentle he is when adjusting your stance, his proportionally massive hands holding you as if you might shatter in an instant.

·Thankfully he has full control of his reactions when the ship unexpectedly spasms, and his cupped palm prevents you from tumbling to the floor as the tremors settle back to absolute stillness, allowing you to look up at Drift just as he opens his communication line to Rodimus. The captain is able to give a brief rant about an ambush and systems crashing all over before the line begins to break, and you see your steadfast partner visibly distress as he loses contact with his friend, getting only a few garbled bits of information before the line goes entirely silent. An attempt by you to establish contact on your own communicator finds no success either. For all of his usual calm, the mech still supporting you looks ready to fight as he acknowledges trouble is inbound.

·To your surprise, he lifts you clear off the floor in a single move, talking fast as he secures his weapons and prepares for what he says will be a run for the most secure parts of the ship. Even if he's one of the key bots for defense in the event of something just like this, he has to get you to safety, or at least somewhere relatively well protected. There's a few key locations he can think of; the headquarters for security, the laboratories, the medical bay, and a few others he's memorized for... well, this exact purpose. The moment a tiny human changed his world he had drafted countless protective measures to ensure their safety, because he knew the dangers they would face all too well. Unfortunately he's having a hard time keeping them all in track now, especially with creeping fear tainting his reason and ability to plan ahead.

·Catching the worry he never admits to having, and admittedly plenty afraid yourself, you help him focus by calmly asking for the closest place he knows of that's secure. Mask of calm returning in an instant, he smiles and decides to go for the main laboratory. Perceptor is likely there, getting whatever experimental defense apparatus he's currently testing up and running to expel incoming threats. There likely won't be a safer place in the universe once he's prepared. Drift keeps to himself that there's an unspoken understanding between them regarding you, namely that the reserved scientist will protect you with the same level of veracity he would his former battle partner. Unfortunately that vow may be getting tested very shortly... Yet he keeps smiling, refusing to let his fear dampen your energy as he decides it's time to make his move. Somehow you feel just as heavy in his hand as the sword on his back as he makes sure you're secure.

·Accustomed to being carried by him in a number of ways, you notice his grip is different the instant he steps into the hallway, his digits curled in a way that screams protection just as much as his narrowed optics radiate apprehension despite trying to appear calm. You know he's protective by nature, but this is different. Every part of him is working in unison to move with as little noise as possible, his senses alert and scanning for threats as he hurries through the ship far more silently than you would have ever expected for a bot his size. In all your time together he's never been so outwardly on edge. Through his shameful confessions you know of his past, and you know of his skill in eliminating threats, so to see him nervous is actually a touch alarming in itself.

·There's a quick whisper from him that he believes enemies may be unavoidable no matter what path he takes. Should there be combat, he warns, he wants you to remain hidden or at least in cover until he's eliminated the threat. Should they overpower him however, your goal will be escape through whatever means necessary. The idea of dying to protect his partner doesn't give him any pause. Instead, his only focus is on ensuring you know every tool at your disposal to get to safety. Thoughts of sending you through the vents give him little comfort, but his feelings are hardly a priority, as nothing matters beyond you. You who saw past his sins, who'd given him a home in your boundless heart, and who had brought nothing but joy and light into his life. If he could guarantee anything by sheer force of will, it was your survival.

·You want to remind him that you're not the only one who matters here. Though you don't have any of his great strength or speed, you're certainly not going to let him be taken from you, as surviving without him would hardly be a victory. But holding on to that conversation is all you can do for now. The danger is real if you draw unwanted attention through speech, and so you keep the thoughts to yourself, saving them for the time you both would have to talk when this was over. Stress is oddly nonexistent as the air crackles around you from tension, perhaps signaling you've become so anxious it's all come full circle and turned you calm. Still, you keep a firm hold on him from your position of cover. Spectralism has encouraged him to be incredibly sensitive to the world around him, so you hope your tiny self focusing on calm will help give him some comfort.

·Unfortunately your efforts are given no time to pay off. Without making so much as a sound, he pushes himself flat against a wall and shushez you as he does so, allowing you to catch the faintest hint of what alarmed him; the sound of very alien movement. Trained audials lock in on the most likely direction of the source, which gives him the information he needs to come to an important decision; there's no getting around this particular group. As time to wait them out simply doesn't exist, he's left to confirm that fighting is his only choice, and with that lays you down on the floor beside a vent opening. Having known this might happen does nothing to quell your panic when you realize you're being left on the sidelines. This mech leaves you no time to argue before silently slipping around the corner to end things quickly.

·There's a team of Cybertronian sized lifeforms so surprised by his arrival they only have time to clumsily draw their weapons before the first one is neatly cut to pieces. Double blades make short work of the next few, and the mess of alien blood barely registers as he moves in a kind of trance, unwilling to let himself waste a moment of time unleashing the frustration and anger he so desperately wants to take out on these intruders. There's no doubt in his mind they'd hurt you if given the chance, but his logic keeps him in check to ensure he doesn't lose himself to the rage such a thought tempts him with. Cold precision is what he needs to most effectively end this quickly, and the method is proven effective when the last enemy falls in pieces, all without a single mark on his own armor. Save for the few spatters of alien blood, but he hardly notices such a minor detail.

·You're a little more concerned when he returns dripping with the mess of battle, but a quick reasurance and a noting of the lack of energon's distinctive pink glow puts most of your worries to rest. Still, you cling tightly to him as he picks you back up, whispering your thanks despite the loud clamor of the recent battle. It's a small victory when your gratitude makes him smile once again. Reminding you that he took a vow to protect you, he holds you close again and sets back off, assuming the same strategy of silent travel as before. It's oddly less tense this time, as if seeing what he's up against gave him the confidence to overcome his own worries for your sake. Whatever the case, you gladly take the result, already worn out from all the excitement of his recent battle.

·A brief burst of communication gives him pause, and you're equally baffled by the sudden transmission until he takes cover and answers. The commanding bots make something clear for the short message they've been able to transmit; Drift needs to get you to the medical bay. A rapid explanation of how the shipwide errors includes the atmospheric generators puts it all together in horrifying detail. Oxygen levels are dropping on all the sensors, they explain before the line cuts out, and while it's happening slowly there's still precious little time. He doesn't need any further instructions when silence descends over you both once more. You, however, can barely grasp the full extent of what you've just been told. After all, you feel fine! Well... mostly fine, perhaps things are a bit more wobbly than they should be.

·You're embraced as his expression briefly cracks into full worry. There's a whispered promise to get you to safety before he's once again on the move, all the on edge energy from before filling his coiled body as it hurries through the ship at impressive speeds. Strategy doesn't come easily as you try to think of the best way to save your breath. Keeping calm is hardly an option with everything going on, but you give it your best shot. You just need to stay awake and as relaxed as possible until he reaches the medical bay. It's harder than it should be already, but you persevere, lying down in his hand to keep the world from spinning all around you. Being close to him helps just a little bit. It helps you believe that the two of you will be fine, that he'll get to where he needs to be without trouble, and that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here.

·But of course, his luck allows for no such fortune. In the next moment he's being forced to tuck you away without a word of warning, the sound of an even more aggressive group of attackers forcing him to act before you can be hurt. He tries to dominate the battle like he did the last one, using his anger for fuel but never allowing it to take control, and his blades respond well to the strategy at first. However, this group is larger than the last, and thus his ambush simply doesn't buy him enough time to defeat them all. Soon blaster shots are flying and counterattacks are being hurled in his direction. All he can think about is you lying just out of sight, and how little time he has for this, and that these beings are all perfectly fine ending your life with such a cowardly tactic... It's an emotional powder keg, and the spark is finally lit when a not so lucky alien manages to cut a shallow gash across his side. The harsh burn of the injury sets him off just as you manage to glance down the hallway.

·Calm and calculated combat becomes a brutal beat down of anything he can get his swords through. A snarl reveals his shamefully concealed canines as he turns his blades into instruments of revenge instead of mere tools to victory. Even as your vision spins you can see him carving the increasingly fewer number of enemies without any of his usual grace, his expression one of blind fury as he eviscerates his enemies and something like a smile pulling up on his lips through their snarl. Some part of him is enjoying this, you realize. Even though he doesn't linger or draw out his moves, you can see he's going for absolute brutality in his kills. He wants these aliens to hurt for what they've done, and while you can't feel any pity for them, you know he's going to agonize over this later. He's often confided a fear of his own mind, citing moments like these where he just wants the enemy to hurt, and you know he firmly believes goodness is beyond him because of this.

·There's a thrill as he clears the last enemy, despite a few additional injuries of his own to show for it. No one was going to harm his beloved human and keep their limbs intact. He's still flashing the artificially sharpened canines that usually bring him such shame when he turns to see you watching. Pride vaporizes to horror in an instant, both from the realization that he gave in to temptation and that you saw him partake in such senseless brutality, and only the continued need to move lets him approach and lift you once more. Apologies pour out of his voicebox as he returns to running, begging your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself and failing to control them at your most vulnerable. Guilt tears him apart as he sees you've begun to lose clarity in the growing absence of oxygen.

·Unconsciousness pulls at you despite your resistance, and you force yourself to stay alert enough to keep him reassured. Had you the words your emphasis would have been on comforting him in the wake of his loss of control, particularly in regards to how you weren't afraid and never would be, as that piece was just a small part of the actual him you knew. Did he reject you for your failings? No, you wished you could say, and that you would never leave him for the same reason. As it was, you could only suck in deep breaths and hope he might read the conviction in your eyes. You want so badly for him to see you're not even upset with him, but your more coherent thoughts on the subject are starting to fade as well. Assurances that you will always support him fade into the fog overtaking your mind.

·He feels you slip into unconsciousness and it's like another stab to his already aching spark. Time is running out, and he can certainly take some of the blame for that, can't he? How many precious seconds could have been saved if he just stayed in control and finished the battle without savoring the violence? It's enough guilt that he becomes blind to anything else, charging forward on the most direct path and straight into an ongoing battle between bots and the still invading forces. You're held to his spark with a level of protection a bot would usually reserve for the Matrix, your safety being the only one that matters as he quite literally cuts a path through the enemies, focusing only on getting to the other side as he does so. Without any kind of defense he's quickly suffering a number of injuries, but he either doesn't notice or care as he keeps you free of the danger. The desire for retribution burning in his spark is smothered by a cold refusal to indulge unless he loses what's most worth fighting for.

·Only a lack of operability in his leg slows him down, and by then he's thankfully surrounded more by Autobots than enemies. His heroic charge is credited with turning the fight, but he's heedless to praise and concern as he finds support to stand from an unexpected arrival; Ratchet. Stopping the medic before his own wounds can be addressed, he holds you out wordlessly as his sword clatters to the floor from his other hand. Energon loss he only just now notices makes him wobble, but he insists on waiting until you've been helped, refusing to be treated until he knows you're going to be okay. The medics sort of compromise by tending to him whilst setting you up on the prepared medical slab, and as his considerable injuries are patched up he feels relief plagued by uncertainty. Will you remember what you saw? Will the firsthand experience with his inner demons drive you away? It eats at him in ways no medic can make feel better.

·When you awaken he's also on mandatory rest, and he's moved your tiny self onto a medical slab beside him to keep you close, making his familiar colors the first thing you see upon opening your eyes. You can't bring yourself to care about the oxygen mask on your face when the recently welded scars on his armor shock you into a mild panic. Seeing you awake, he gently shushes your concerns and encourages you to be still, and his position on his side thankfully makes conversing quite simple. At a single, anxious prompt about your memory the moments leading up to your loss of consciousness become clear. Drift quickly assures you that everything is fine, but you catch his look of worry when you confirm your recollection, and a gentle request for more information strikes him hard.

·His apologies are as helpless as they are hopeless. The disgust with himself is nearly tangible as he begs your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself, and it takes far longer than usual to get him to listen to you, perhaps due to the mask muffling your voice. Reiterating that you already accepted his past, you recall the way he held you in the heat of everything just today, and emphasise the sheer volume of injuries he endured to save you. That's the bot you've chosen to love, at the peak of his strength and selflessness and determination... That's who he is, and who he will always be to you. Your reminder soothes the pain in his body and spark. Moving as close as he can on the berth, he takes the moment to appreciate being together once again, his faith in himself given new strength thanks to your boundless love.

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 2 | preparations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

In the weeks that led up to the ball, you had your hands full.

Literally, some days, since your plans relied heavily on your long history of bribery via pastry.

Hagakure, Ashido, and Kaminari had not been easy to convince. You’d had to beg and plead and pilfer any sweet cake you could get your hands on, cashing in every favor and ounce of goodwill you’d stored up over the long years. Between your shifts, you’d spent almost every hour of the last weeks in their respective quarters, pleading with them sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. Kaminari had required the firmest touch, scared out of his mind at the thought of retribution from the notoriously foul-tempered Captain Bakugou for leaving his post.

But one week out from the ball, you had the makings of a plan and the raw materials needed for its implementation.

The one unexpected hurdle was Ochako herself.

“Go to the ball?” she gasped the evening when you revealed your plan. “Me?”

The two of you had been readying for bed in the small storage room that doubled as your shared sleeping quarters. She stood frozen over her bed where she’d been about to climb in.

You smiled coaxingly. “Just picture it, Ochako! The pink fluffy dress! Dancing with a handsome noble! I have it all arranged.”

She looked doubtful. “I don’t know about all this.”

You fixed her with a dead-eyed look. “Have I ever led you astray?”

She stared back. “Well, no, but--”

You waved her off. “Then just trust me.”

She stayed standing as you flopped onto your straw pallet. A stalk had escaped from its covering and poked you insistently in the back.

“Ochako, I want you to be happy,” you said, sighing.

She blinked. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with getting back at Kamiko for what she said the other week?”

You couldn’t help the guilty look that flashed across your face. “Only a little.”

Ochako huffed a small laugh, but quickly sobered. “Y/N, you’ll be whipped if they find you out. And me!”

You shot up in bed. “They won’t! And I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I have a plan.”

Ochako finally sank into the straw of her own mattress. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

You grinned. “You will tomorrow morning. I roped the palace dance instructor into teaching you a few basic steps. Did you know honey cakes are her husband’s secret weakness?”

Ochako fidgeted. “Y/N, I have work tomorrow morning.”

You stretched. “No, I have work tomorrow morning. Your half day of rest has mysteriously been extended.”

You heard the straw of her mattress rustle. “You...you shouldn’t have done this for me.”

You smiled to yourself. “Maybe not, but at this point I’ve filched so many pastries that we might as well see it through.”

A soft chuckle issued from her side of the room. “You must really love cleaning those fireplaces. The housekeeper will be so furious if she finds out - she’ll have you up to your eyeballs in the kitchen hearths for the rest of your days.”

You laughed. “Lucky for me I look rather fetching in black.”

She laughed again before a friendly silence descended on the room, and you heard no more argument from her. You dropped off to sleep, satisfied.

In the morning, you were less satisfied having to be out of bed in the cold, pre-dawn hours on what was usually your one morning off. But it was worth it for Ochako. Almost more than that, it was worth it entirely for the purpose of wiping the smug smile off Kamiko’s infuriatingly cherubic face. Ochako was going to become a fucking princess, as far as you were concerned, and if all went well, she could have you trained to be her ladies’ maid.

As you let yourself into the kitchens to light the fires and put on water for the morning's tea, you let yourself imagine it, smugly watching Kamiko clean the chambers of the girl she had once made fun of. If you planned on calling for Ochako’s linens to be changed way more often than was necessary, well, that was nobody’s business but your own.

The chambermaid in question eyed you suspiciously when she came into the kitchens hours later for her breakfast. “Isn’t it Ochako’s morning to be on shift? Where is the little wench?”

You shrugged, stoking the fire with more interest than usual. “She’s not feeling well. I’m to cover her morning off. Got her schedule memorized, do you?”

Kamiko wore an expression like she’d bit into a tart to find it full of ants. “Don’t test me, cinders. I’d hate for Rikido to have to look into where all his missing sweets have gone.”

You froze, then forced yourself to relax. There was no way for her to know you’d been running a small but successful pastry ring out of the kitchen for years. If she had, you’d have already been reported into your next lifetime.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” You fixed her with your most innocent look.

She sneered, “I’m sure you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes but ignored her and set about the rest of your work with enthusiasm. Right at this very minute Ochako was learning the steps that would waltz her straight onto the throne. Petty revenge could come later.

The rest of the day dragged, but you attacked your chores with unusual vigor. At night, you returned to your room to find Ochako bouncing excitedly around the room, sweeping into elegant curtsies.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed as you entered, looking tired but pleased. “You’re back!”

You sank thankfully onto your pallet, glad to be off your feet. “How’d it go?”

“Wonderful!” she smiled. “Dance mistress says my steps are rather basic at this point, but they would go a long way in getting me through any fete.”

You chuckled. “Little does she know which fete.”

Ochako smiled. “Do you really think I’ll look like I belong?”

You sat up and rustled around underneath your pallet, digging out something blindly pink and thrusting it in front of her.

“With this, you will,” you gestured with it meaningfully. Ochako took in the sight of the dress, eyes widening.

Though unfinished, you thought you’d done a rather good job. With Mina’s help, you’d been able to procure enough of the bright fabric and tailor it to current trends. The bodice was close-fit to the torso, but swept out in a dramatic waterfall of fabric at the hips, meant to emphasize the wearer’s hourglass shape. Mina’s tiny, perfect stitches decorated the collar and sleeves, while your own fumbling attempts had been hidden closer to the waist and skirt hem, further from the eye. Once the dress was set with the lace Hagakure had ferreted out of the laundry rooms, Ochako would be indistinguishable from any noblewoman in that room.

Ochako gasped. “It’s perfect!”

You smirked, then turned to your mattress, pulling out a matching mask, embroidered with small roses done in a light pink thread. It was much better than your stitching on her dress. This, you thought, was your masterwork. A perfect example that you would be well-suited to being Ochako’s ladies’ maid, once given the proper training.

“Y/N, I can’t believe this!” she said, taking the mask and dress in hand. She ran her fingers over it lovingly, the way you’d been setting a proprietary hand to the prince’s birthday books. You could tell she liked it.

“You may repay me in a tidal wave of fine foods once you’re a noblewoman,” you laughed. "You can teach me how to read and let me spend Sundays lounging."

She blushed. “You don’t actually think I’d catch anyone’s eye.”

You certainly did. Ochako was shy, but there was no arguing her good looks. Even without her sweet-tempered charm, she could have reeled Prince Shouto in by her cute face and ample bosom alone.

“Of course you will,” you said. “If you don’t have at least three proposals by the end of the night, I will eat Kamiko’s apron.”

She chuckled. “Why Kamiko’s?”

“Well if you don't, I'll still need mine, won’t I?”

She laughed again, and you took the garments from her, stowing them safely away under your mattress again.

The two of you settled down to bed, feeling giddy. Only three more days, you thought, until your weeks of work paid off.

The three days passed quickly in a flurry of chores and midnight sewing. Your fingers were raw from the stitching and you spent every shift bleary-eyed from the nights spent hunched over Ochako’s dress, but this was the evening it would all become worth it.

Or it would be, if Ochako hadn’t suddenly come down with a case of cold feet.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she fretted that morning, spooning over her thick porridge. “I feel sick.”

You gaped at her. “Ochako, you will climb into that fluffy monstrosity or so help me I will feed you to Captain Bakugou.”

This didn’t even make her laugh and your heart thumped in your chest. Was she really going to back out? Did she really feel so self-consciously? You hadn’t accounted for this in your plan.

“You have to go,” you said, feeling a little brittle yourself. “Ochako, you’ve wanted to so badly.”

She scratched a pale fingertip against the rough wood of the servant’s dining table. “I don’t know if I can. I’m so nervous.”

You ducked down to look into her face. “You’re going to look so beautiful and you know the dances,” you said. “You’re going to be incredible. What more would make you less nervous?”

She was silent a moment, the scritch of her nail the only sound in the drafty dark of the pre-dawn kitchens.

“Would you go with me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“To the ball!” she said, turning to you. “You could come with me!”

You scowled. You had in no way intended to go to the ball yourself, looking forward to spending the evening most servants had off tucked up in your bed with the scraps from the dinner preparations. You’d been eyeing the buckwheat noodles the prince so loved and had fully intended to see what all the fuss had been about.

Besides that, you’d only accounted for Ochako going. You’d produced one dress and one mask, and even those had taken weeks of multiple people pinching fabrics and sewing late into the night. It wasn't like you could magic more garments out of the air.

“Ochako, I don’t have any clothes,” you said. “I can’t go.”

“Please!” she cried, latching on to one of your threadbare sleeves. “I don’t think I can do it without you.”

You were saved from responding by the first trickle of servants pouring into the kitchens for breakfast. You closed your mouth, thinking hard as you got up to fetch hot water for those stations above you, serving them tea and fetching them plates.

An idea had dawned on you by the time the crush of servants cleared out after their hasty breakfasts. The thought of pulling it off made you stiff with fear - as there were so many factors that could go wrong -- but it was worth the risk.

You thought about it long into the day, Ochako shooting you nervous looks. You would have to be careful, but you thought you could make it work.

As the day faded, the lanterns were lit. The ball would begin soon, and servants made their way to an early bed. You left Ochako to prepare in your bedroom, stealing into the dark and empty laundry rooms.

If Ochako wanted you to be there, then you would make it happen. You were going to fairy godmother this self-conscious girl into a happily ever after.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a little bit of an unusual fic. Not sure how you feel about writing smut, but I would really enjoy reading a Dwayne/ Star one where Dwayne is very dominant and very teasing/taunting with Star. Again I know it’s an unusual pairing but I just think those two are very sexy together 😜 especially the way that he’s so big compared to tiny, petite Star lol. But again, if you’re not comfortable with it it doesn’t even have to be full smut!

So!!! This ask has been living in my head rent free for the past couple of days and I hope you enjoy!!! (Just a ps. I don't necessarily characterize Star as a straight sub so be aware of that before reading)

Just a Crush (Dwayne x Star) fic

Warnings: smut

Word Count: 1704

Star didn't know when it had developed. The boys weren't necessarily mean to her, but ever since she'd rejected vampirism they hadn't been the same. They used to be her friends. Now, she was an unfortunate fifth wheel. Between Marko outright ignoring her, Paul dismissing her, and David constantly acting as if she hadn't made up her mind, Dwayne was her only solace. He talked to her as much and basically the same as he had before, which hadn't been much. Still, he was always kind to her.

Perhaps that's why she'd started to develope a crush on him. It was just something small, and she knew it was only because he was the nicest out of the four. She never even planned on doing anything about it, and she knew it was silly to begin with. He was just nice. It was the only explanation as to why she would sometimes find the brunette running through her mind, or why her gaze would rest on him a little bit longer before she left for the pier. It's just a crush. That's all.

Those were the exact words that left her mouth that night.

The boys had gone out again after their hunt, having cleaned themselves up. They were ready to get back out there and cause chaos. Her mind had drifted to the brunette for only a moment, barely lingering on the details of his face. The quirk of his eyebrows, the curve of his lips. She had to admit, while she mostly liked him because he was the nicest, it helped that he was attractive. She was usually so careful to keep those thoughts to herself, away from prying minds.

Star had planned for a quiet night at the cave, having put Laddie to sleep already, when someone caught her wrist.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, but she calmed when she turned and saw the other brunette. He was smiling at her, though it was small and almost not noticable. The firm grasp on her wrist loosened, and his large hand dropped her wrist. She was quick to replace his hand with her own, holding it to her chest. She could still feel the coldness of his fingertips, even when her hand wrapped around it. She was quick to say,

"Oh, jesus, Dwayne. You scared me. I thought-" But he, surprisingly, interrupted her. His voice was a low rumble, like a roll of thunder, when he said,

"That I left?" He finished. And like that, a sudden realization hit her. She had forgotten that the boys could read minds, and that Dwayne had a habit of communicating mainly through their mind-link. She clammed up, and a larger smile spread across his face. He took a step forward, and Star had to crane her neck to look at his face. She refused to step back and tried to keep her mind blank as she watched him look her over, searching for a flutter of an expression that would betray what she was feeling. She was immensely embarrassed, and her mind would've been a rush of wondering if he had heard her if he hadn't said, "You've been thinking about me a lot lately."

Just like that, she knew. She knew that he had heard her. He tilted his head, a smile still plastered onto his face, and he took another step forward. While he had been close before, now he was unbearably so. Another inch and they'd be pressed chest to chest. She tried to fight the blush that was climbing up her cheeks, and she kept her voice level as she said,

"Why didn't you go out with the others?" She asked, trying to change the subject. Perhaps he had forgotten something. Perhaps he would be leaving in a few minutes and she could be embarrassed in peace.

"Seemed like it'd be more fun to stay home." He said, and part of her resolve broke. He reached for her waist, placing a hand there. But he didn't try to reach or grab. It seemed he had done the action just to make her flustered. While Dwayne was the kindest, that didn't mean he was immune to teasing. It seemed he planned on doing so the entire night. Or at least until she admitted it. She flushed red then, and she balled her hands up in fists. Star was never quite so easily pushed over by the boys, and she tried to defend herself, and cut the teasing short, by saying,

"It's just a crush. That's all." And Dwayne's lips pressed closed. As if he was trying to hide his smile. He ducked down a bit, his dark brown eyes mirroring hers. He was so close it was nearly making her breath hitch.

"A crush, huh?" He whispered, his tone just slightly teasing. The deepness of his voice and the way he stared at her made her feel small. She couldn't help but look over his handsome face. She didn't think he'd ever been this close to her before, and his scent was nearly overwhelming. "That's all?" He echoed, and she stared at his lips. Her voice was just as quiet as she whispered,

"Yeah." And then there was a small pause before Star was reaching out. He was pulling her closer just a moment faster, and the two crashed into eachother. Dwayne was never nearly as rushed as he was at that moment, but Star wasn't letting him take the lead. Her kiss was hungry and her hands had woven their way into his hair, already pulling. He was surprised when she licked into his mouth, but his own tongue was quick to greet hers. Quick to battle her back.

Even when he took her to her bed, the pair careful to be quiet, she was cupping his face and holding him. Almost as if she was trying to guide him. Dwayne grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Dwayne was almost never quite as dominant as he was now, but it was the simple act of her not letting him have the lead, of her pushing back and trying to lead him, that made him snap. He was able to hold both of her wrists in one hand, and the other was quick to shed the clothing separating them. His kiss was dominating and slow, but her legs had wrapped tight around his waist. Even when he palmed at her chest, tugged and twisted her nipples, or dug his hand in-between them to tease her, she still didn't submit. Even when he whispered,

"Just a crush, huh?" She simply tried to draw him back into a kiss. She silenced all of her moans and noises with his lips, and she rolled her hips down against his hand. She was pulling him closer, testing him, and it wasn't until he slipped inside that her fight for control finally faltered.

She let out a small, breathy gasp, and the way her back arched made all of it worth it. Dwayne smirked, and he set a slow, steady pace. He didn't hold back any strength, knowing that, whether she was willing to accept it or not, she had the same ability to heal as they did. Every sound he managed to pull from her lips was music to his ears, and he couldn't help but tease her relentlessly for it.

"Have you thought about this before?" He asked her once, and he was answered by a flurry of thoughts in her mind. He laughed, the hand holding her wrists tightening as he reached to grab one of her legs. He held under her knee, hiking her leg up so he could drive himself deeper. Make her moan louder. "You gotta keep quiet, Star." He taunted, even though he was the reason she was struggling.

"Shut up." She responded, earning a laugh from the brunette. He mouthed at her jaw, grazing his teeth against her neck as he sucked hickeys into her skin instead. Star let her eyes flutter closed, desperately trying to bite her lip as each thrust sent shockwaves up her spine.

He let her wrists go, but only so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders. He pulled back, lifting her up and sitting back on his knees. He had her in his lap, his member still nestled inside her and driving her crazy. He lifted her hips up and down with easy, spearing himself inside her while she desperately clung to him. She buried her face into his neck, clutching his shoulders and hair as he whispered into her ear,

"You know, the boys will be back soon. I'm sure they'd love this surprise. Especially David." He taunted, his words almost malicious. They made her whimper, but she could barely think to form a response as Dwayne moved her hips faster and faster. Her orgasm was building, and her nails were digging into him painfully as he continued, "Though, I like having you all to myself." He said, and his voice was breathy. It was the only signal that he was close, and he ran his hand down her side. His calloused fingers feeling the softness of her skin. He dug his hand into her wild tresses of brown curls just to pull her back. To connect their eyes before he said, "Come for me, Star. C'mon, I wanna see you come." Just before the waves of her release crashed down onto her. He saw the pleasure fill her features, heard the beginning of her cry. But he was quick to clamp his mouth over hers, to silence her before her sounds could reach their crescendo.

He pushed her past her own release, until he was coming himself and groaning softly into her mouth. Her tongue massaged his as he came down and he lowered her back onto her bed. The two laid down besides eachother, lightly panting and wrapped up in a half-embrace. Both of them had gone back to being quiet, the only sound between them being their labored breathing. It was Star that broke it.

"Yeah," She started, pushing her curls out of her face. Dwayne looked over at her, a little confused as to what she was talking about until she finished, "Just a crush."

[nikibogwater]

A Shot in the Dark: Chapter 3 (Author’s Commentary)

(Read the fic here)

General Notes:

The final chapter! I don’t have too many general notes for this one (though the passage-specific notes below the cut stretch on for miles--there was just a lot going on in this chapter lol). But I will say that this is my favorite chapter of the three. It’s what the previous two have been building up to, and it really is the “heart” of the story, so to speak. That, and I finally got to make Glitter Wings Nari canon to The Immortal Bonds! (picture below the cut) I genuinely teared up a little bit while writing a couple of these scenes. I don’t know if that means they are very good, or that I was just absolutely exhausted after cranking out the first two chapters, but maybe you can be the judge. Friendly reminder to go listen to the song “Protector” by City Wolf if you are so inclined. It was a huge part of what inspired this story, and now that all three parts are published, I feel like it perfectly captures the theme and feel of A Shot in the Dark as a whole.

Passage-Specific Notes:

“...Please, Nari, I would not be doing my duty as Douxie’s...as your friend if I let you run thoughtlessly into this kind of danger.”

Another small line of dialogue that means a lot to me. I didn’t see Archie as making the instant connection with Nari that Douxie did. I think it took him a while to see her as anything more than “Douxie’s Ward.” He was always kind to her and took care of her, but I think it took him until now to realize that he had grown to really love her as part of the family. So the fact that he corrects himself here reflects that realization. I think under normal circumstances, the moment Archie finds out Douxie is in trouble/hurting, he would dive headfirst into hell without a second thought in order to help his boy. But because Nari is now also under his protection--and more importantly, now that she also has a special place in his heart--Archie has to force himself to slow down and come up with a plan that will keep BOTH of his kids safe. 

The phone rang once--twice--six times. Then it went to voicemail.

Nari lowered it with a look of pure dejection as Claire’s pre-recorded voice cheerfully told them to leave their message after the beep.

I felt like calling Claire for backup was the most sensible thing they could do in this situation--but I also needed Nari and Archie to take on Project Rescue Douxie by themselves, in order to reinforce the family bond these three have. The moment when they all reunite at the end wouldn’t have had the emotional impact I was angling for if there had been others present. So I had to pull a tiny plot contrivance and make Claire unavailable. I didn’t feel the need to explain why she doesn’t answer her phone (people miss calls all the time) but my personal theory was that she was taking a nice relaxing shower and couldn’t pick up the phone. (look, I need SOMEBODY in this story to be having a nice time lol). 

“By Ambrosia’s Gleam...” Archie breathed. A pair of dazzlingly beautiful wings reflected every light of the city back at him as Nari folded and unfolded them experimentally. They were unlike anything the cat had ever seen in his long life, vibrantly colored with rich shades of green and gold, glittering like morning dew, yet delicate as a newly budding flower.

Anybody remember last week, when I said the Most Self-Indulgent part was yet to come? This was it lol. I don’t remember when I started imagining Nari with sparkly butterfly wings, but back in early October, I drew this:

and I have been absolutely enamored with the idea ever since (but also it was a convenient way to get them to the warehouse without having to go through the ordeal of walking/taking a taxi/busting out the flying boat). So yeah. Nari’s Glitter Wings are canon to The Immortal Bonds series now. I have spoken.

He had no idea how long he had been enduring Rivan’s torture. It may have only been a few minutes, or it may have been a few years. Hell, he was getting to the point where it felt like this excruciating ache in his bones had been there his whole life. He tried not to sob as Rivan slowly pulled his magic back to himself, the agony abating for just a short moment of sweet relief. Douxie sucked in gulps of air, desperate to replenish the oxygen that had been ripped from his lungs by his own screaming.

First time really writing whump, so that was...something (I was exhausted after just the one paragraph lol). I tried to keep it as vague as I could because I don’t want anybody coming to my fic expressly for a graphic torture scene and nothing else (I don’t do the hurt-no-comfort thing, and I don’t want anybody to use my fics as such). But putting Douxie through a bit of hell does make the ending SO much sweeter. And if he hadn’t been experiencing pain, Archie and Nari probably would have taken longer to decide to come to his rescue. But there is still a part of me that detests every letter of that paragraph. 

The small dragon let out a roar of fury and leapt at Rivan, his form twisting and expanding into that of an enormous black panther. The two crashed together in a flurry of red sparks and tearing claws.

Archie turning into a black panther and going to town on Rivan is also a bit of self-indulgence. I just really love big cats, and black panthers especially are beautiful, mysterious, and powerful creatures that just SCREAM Magic and Otherworldliness to me. (also I really want to draw Panther!Archie now).

He slammed against the concrete with a yowl of pain that tore Douxie’s heart into a thousand pieces, and dropped to the floor, where he lay quivering and heaving.

That line right up there 👆 is the most heart-wrenchingly painful thing I have ever forced myself to write. 😥

Nari grabbed Douxie by the shoulders and pulled him upright. One of her hands reached around him and pressed against his heart, and he felt her aura slam into his. Instinctively, his soul opened, and he let her magic pour into him, filling his veins with the warmth of a hundred suns, wrapping around and tangling with his own magic so tightly that he could barely tell whose was whose. Nari’s voice filled his head, drowning out every sound in his ears, every thought in his mind. My magic is yours. Use it. He threw both of his hands out and felt power unlike anything he had ever known surge into his palms and explode out of his fingertips.

So this ties into a headcanon of mine that, while Nari’s magic isn’t well-suited to direct combat, she is able to augment Douxie’s powers. But this scene is also probably the culmination of every relationship-building moment I have ever written for these two. I established in A Moment to Breathe that to let someone interact with your aura in this way--to basically channel their magic directly into you--requires a great deal of trust. Douxie let Nari heal him in that story, but that was after she had asked permission to pour her magic into him. Here, she doesn’t have time to ask--she just has to go for it, and Douxie’s trust and familiarity with her is so intense at this point, that his response is to immediately surrender completely to her power. Not only that, he is so familiar with her magic, that he is able to use it himself--he combines it with his own power and casts a spell that Nari is likely unable to use herself. I intended this moment to be a representation of the way family relationships can shape and empower you. You carry elements of the people you love with you wherever you go; their influence, their stories, their love for you--it all helps shape you into the person you are. And these things are often so deeply intertwined with your own personality, that it becomes impossible to fully separate them. 

They had risked everything--the fate of the world, even--to save him. He should have scolded them. But instead, Douxie suddenly found himself overwhelmed with the ridiculous urge to cry.

This was the reason I wrote Douxie in Distress--and also one of the reasons I wrote A Shot in the Dark at all. I wanted him to experience being stripped of everything that made him powerful--useful-- and then witness his family risking literally everything for him. Not for his powers, not for what he can do for them, but because they love him. This poor, sweet boy gives and gives and gives, and the world has done nothing but take from him, and I have said “ENOUGH.” I wanted the serotonin of seeing him realize that he is valued and cherished for himself, and BY THUNDER I WAS GOING TO GET IT EVEN IF I HAD TO WRITE 9000+ WORDS FOR IT. 

She pulled back a moment later, roughly drying her face on her sleeve, and untied the black hoodie around her waist. She draped it around Douxie’s shoulders with her magic, and he sighed contentedly as the warm fabric settled around him. He slipped his arms into the sleeves and closed the garment around himself gratefully, giving Nari a tired, heartfelt smile.

I didn’t realize it when I initially drafted the story, but Douxie’s hoodie is actually a really nice visual representation of how he and Nari pass the role of caretaker/protector back and forth. Douxie is wearing it for the first half of the story, when he is acting as Nari’s guardian/brother. Shortly after he lends it to her though, he’s captured by Rivan, and Nari takes on the role of protector in turn. But yeah, originally it was just “Them trading the hoodie back and forth is pointlessly cute and I wanna do it.” (Poor Archie has to be the Adult 100% of the time. He doesn’t get a break).

Most of Douxie’s mornings began with the harsh, clattering sound of his phone vibrating and whistling next to his ear. But that Sunday morning began with a deliciously warm silence. Douxie’s eyes blinked open slowly, finding sunlight lazily shining through the windows. He was lying on his side, with Archie’s soft, familiar body tucked against his chest. A gentle warmth against his back told Douxie that Nari was curled up beside him, wrapped in her own little cocoon of blankets, her back against his. The ache in his bones was gone. He was nestled safely in the warmth and love of his small family, the world outside and all that occurred within it nothing more than a distant echo.

Wrapping his arms around Archie and pressing his back more firmly against Nari’s, Douxie closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

This final scene wasn’t actually in my original outline--originally, the story ended with the three of them beginning the long trek home together. But I felt that the story needed just a little extra time to savor in the happy ending. And so, it came full circle--ending just like it began, with the dawning of a new morning. I noticed that I spend a lot of time in this story comparing the mornings of different characters/days. I think that might have been a subconscious expression of my belief that every morning is the beginning of a new opportunity--to strengthen bonds, to do good in the world, to just live for another day. Douxie’s Saturday morning started off a little rougher than he wanted--he woke up early and had to rush around to get ready for a long day out on the town. And wouldn’t you know it, his Saturday ended pretty badly too (though I think he’s probably just grateful he got to go home in one piece haha). This Sunday morning plays out in the exact opposite way. It’s quiet, peaceful, unhurried, and full of hope. Douxie’s been through hell and back, but he survived long enough to see another beginning. And I think that’s the beautiful cycle that all human life follows. There’s pain in life, darkness and hopelessness, but if you can hold on, strengthened by the love of the people you hold dear, you will always find a new beginning waiting for you on the other side of the valley. 

...And that’s it. Thank you to everyone for reading my work. Seeing everyone who enjoyed it, hearing from you guys in the comments, knowing that I was able to give someone a good story--it really does mean the world to me. So again, thanks for joining me, and I hope our paths cross again soon. 🤗✨

[jessicajonesrp]

An Awkward favor (reposted, since I screwed up response in last one)

It's been about a week since Jessica told Luke that she was pregnant and they were going to be parents. It was news that Luke was excited to hear even tho it scares the hell out of both him and Jessica they were still quite happy. However his wife's unrelenting hatred of doctors is a REAL PAIN IN THE ASS!

It came down to either she bit the bullet and see a doctor or Luke did something that was completely uncomfortable for all involved. It took a day or two for him to get up the nerve to make the call, funny the man can let a grenade explode in his face but calling her made him hesitant.

After finally making the call a meeting time was set..a neutral spot in a Manhattan coffee shop. Luke debated taking Jessica with him, I mean this was basically walking off a cliff for him because who knows what his firecracker of a wife will do but this is for the sake of their baby so he really didn't have a choice.

They arrived about 20 minutes early and found a table towards the back. It wasn't long until a woman walked up to them and sat down, she wore a short jacket to cover up her dark blue scrubs, the meeting time apparently coincided with her next shift. Luke stood up, pulling out a chair for her, smiling at the woman to cover up the awkward feelings he had seeing her again.

"Hey Claire, thanks for coming." 

Claire eyes him for a second before smiling and addresses Jessica holding out her hand. "You're Jessica Jones? Hi I'm Claire it's nice to meet you." 

Luke thrown a little when she ignores him but not so much that he doesn't notice the wedding ring on her finger.

"You're married..Congratulations I'm happy for you."

j

Jessica had always thought that she was the one with mental issues in their marriage. Apparently she was wrong, and Luke had hidden depths of crazy of his own. Because what kind of guy thought his ex wanted to be the baby doctor person- whatever, she wasn't an expert on pregnancy related terminology yet- of his current wife? Or that she, said wife, would be comfortable with the idea of a woman her husband assumedly slept with looking at her naked?

The only reason she even agreed to a meeting with Claire to see if the woman didn't laugh in both their faces, which was no less than Jessica expected, was because Luke trusted her. And for Jessica, that said a lot. She was very skittish with any touch from anyone not within her tiny circle of trusted ones, doctors included. Even pre Kilgrave- after all, it was doctors who made her and Phillip what they were. But if Luke trusted someone, she in turn trusted him, which was more than could be said for a random stranger.

Besides, this was not an ordinary baby or pregnancy. If she had to see a doctor, it had to be one with superhuman experience.

"Yeah, hi," Jessica nodded stiffly, giving Claire a brief glance over and wondering if the woman was doing the same towards her. She shook her hand as quickly as was minimally polite and as was her way, got to it.

"You probably wonder why the hell your ex would ask you to come meet his wife when she isn't obviously about to die, so lets get to that so you can turn us down and go. Right, I'm pregnant, and I hate doctors, because of many reasons, and he says I have to go to some doctor. And he says he trusts you, and I trust him, but obviously with you being ex and me being current you're going to say no. So, sorry for wasting your time."

She starts to back away, ready to leave since she assumes she just had the whole conversation for everyone.

Claire looks at Jessica bewildered. "Excuse me, first of all you don't know me..At all! Second I'm a medical professional so if someone needed my help I have to help them third ain't nobody thinking about yo man or dying to see you naked. Now how about you asked me what you wanted to ask me and let me decide on rather or not I'll do Boo for your skinny ass!" With that she turns to Luke and begins cussing at him in what is probably the dirtiest Spanish on the planet.

Luke holding up his hands in his defense says the equivalent of Yes yes, I'm sorry, but please we need your help back to her in Spanish and smiles at her, 

Claire tries to bring herself to cuss more but sighs before turning back to Jessica. "Look.." sighing again "You need someone that knows how to monitor you and your bady.. And I have experience dealing with you kind of people..So look Luke's a jackass but..Damn that's all I got he's a jackass, so let me help you."

Turning back to Luke. "I don't do this stuff for free anymore, this won't be cheap because some of the stuff we'll need is expensive..But Mr. Big Time that shouldn't be a problem for you."

 Luke nods yes. "Whatever you need I'll take care of it..But this is absolutely on the down low Claire..So not even your husband can know about this." He looks at Jessica concerned "Guess it comes to you Jessica, what do you want to do..If not the hospital or Claire, something else?"

"We'll do whatever you want." Claire moves closer and smiles again "This is some awkward shit but I can do this..Hell I've done harder with less than what your husband just agreed to buy and not be cheap about it either." Giving Luke the side eye 

"Its gonna be ok.. I'm off Sunday, I'll come by the club and take a look at you." 

Luke interrupts her "Actually we have a place in Harlem, it's nice I'll text you the address." 

Claire gives Jessica one more look of assurance.

Jessica turned back to face Claire, taken aback by her attitude. This was the first time she had met someone who was actually more verbally feisty than she herself, and for a second she just stared at her, a little stunned by her response. She was still processing that the woman had more than just dished back at what Jessica had laid out at her, and was in the middle of turning over in her mind how Claire had figured out she was squeamish about her seeing her naked while simultaneously calling her skinny, before the Spanish flurry of exchanges started.

"That's fine, anyway I have to get to the hospital to start my shift, so see you Sunday?" She looks at Jessica waiting for an answer.

Jessica, who knows about as many Spanish words as might be uttered in a Taco Bell commercial, outright stares when Luke starts responding back to her in Spanish in return. She had no idea that he knew Spanish, let alone enough to be able to understand the rapid, angry-sounding spew of words that Claire had just flung at him.  Her taut shoulders ease up a little as she watches, and she slowly starts to smirk.

“Damn, Luke. I’m starting to see a pattern, you really like women that say it how they see it, huh.”

When they finally start speaking English again and Claire addresses her directly, Jessica stiffens, not liking her calling Luke a jackass, but she can get why she would feel that way, considering the position he’s putting her in as his ex.

“So…wait, you’ll actually do this? Even though you sounded like you wanted to take his head off a second ago?”

When Claire continued to assure her, she shifts nervously, playing with the sleeve of her jacket.

“What stuff do you need? The expensive stuff you’re talking about. And, uh, what do you need to do to me, exactly?”

She hesitates, hating as usual to have to actually verbalize any kind of feelings-related, vulnerability-involved things, but if this woman is going to be her doctor, it’s more than likely going to be a necessity, so she makes herself spit it out.

“It’s not really the you being ex thing that trips me out, okay.” She took a breath, then ground out, “ I have PTSD. I don’t always do great with people touching me. And the last few encounters I’ve had with doctors have been the doctors that made me what I am, and the doctor that made my rapist who he was. Who also happened to be his father, and trying to save his life, but that’s a whole different story. I’m not trying to be an asshole, I just…..it isn’t anything personal.”

She looked towards Claire, but not directly at her as she finally answered. “If you’re willing, I guess I’ll try. I want the baby to be okay. Just…you have to tell me what you’re doing, and why, and stuff.”

[darrowsrising]

Title: Generations

Timeline: First Part - between Red Rising and Golden Son (circa 738-739 PCE); Second Part - between Morning Star and Iron Gold (circa 749 PCE)

Characters: Alexandar au Arcos, Darrow of Lykos, Lorn au Arcos, Pax au Augustus

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Alexandar au Arcos watched in awe as his grandfather - the Master of the Willow Way Lorn au Arcos - trained the latest and the most infomous of Institute champions - the ArchPrimus Darrow au Andromedus. Now a lancer of House Augustus, his grandfather decided to take him as his student, the first in more than 30 years.

They called him the Reaper of Mars and they said he slayed a Bellona boy with his bare hands. They, being a pair of careless Praetors that talked in the boardRoom, very unaware of a child hiding in plain sight - a secret hideout carved into a marble column. He should tell his grandfather of his stellar spying techniques, but then he would be forbidden from utilizing them again.

Darrow au Andromedus looked every bit the killer he was. Taller than his grandfather, with wide, strong shoulders, he had a savage, cold danger about him that froze everyone off. He moved beautifully, without wasting any movement. He worked hard to master the Willow Way, but he had the right skills for it, otherwise Lorn au Arcos wouldn't waste time with him. He came specifically for him to Agea, although the stronghold of House Arcos is in Elysium.

The trainning razor made harsh whipping sounds in a flurry of fast motions - as Lorn's bo staff came down aiming for the Reaper's head, he ducked a bit and whipped it in half. The two halves were near his torso. That was quality right there, he's been trainning for a few weeks and he's become this good. It was almost terrifying - he didn't understand whether his grandfather was creating a monster or adopting a son.

As soon as his grandfather saw him watching, he asked him to leave, 'This is no place for children,' he muttered in a slashing tone. He didn't wait to be told twice.

The next day, he woke himself at the crack of dawn and sneaked into the trainningRoom. He planned to imitate the movements he saw yesterday with an actual practise razor, no more half-arsed stuff on the balcony garden using twine and sticks. As he entered with his eyes at the closing door, he exhaled with relief.

'You must be Lorn's grandson, Alexandar!,' the Reaper's voice echoed in the room and stopped the child's heart in his tiny chest. His back jumoed against the wall by sheer instinct. The man was twirling a bo-staff in his right hand with the ease of a Circus Violet and he looked like he's been practising for a bit, before he arrived.

'You know, I have a friend who is just as sneaky as you are. Yet, if you want to learn the Willow Way without Lorn's knowing, you'll need more than watching me and then sneaking in here to practise later.'

'Would you...be willing to help me?', he was scared of him, but held his gaze as he tried to calm his heartbeat.

'Well, Lorn is strict and rigurous teacher. I might as well have some fun when it presents itself,' he shruged. 'By the way, you might want to look for blueprints of this mansion, just in case you'll need to get in and out of here without anyone noticing you. I don't mind Lorn being upset at me, but while I might get some muscle aches, you might get into a nastier situation.'

'What's your friend's name?'he asked, making mental notes to check the blueprints later.

'Sevro', he smiled. 'His name is Sevro.'

Alexandar approached Darrow and reach out his hand, 'Well, it's nice to meet you, Darrow! I mean, teacher!'. Darrow shook Alexandar's small hand and smiled. He very much liked the kid.

'Due to the restraints, I'll just teach you and help you practise the basiscs every dawn. Now, go warm up.'

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When Servilla au Arcos asked him to take Alexandar, her son, as his lancer, Darrow smiled remembering the boy who found the courage to look him in the eyes after he spooked him. Not a few minutes into trainning for the first time, he confessed to telling everyone from the family and the staff that the Reaper of Mars eats glass.

He invited Alex to dinner with the Howlers and the ebthusiastic youth hit it off quickly. He sneaked on Sevro, took his favourite toothpick from his boot and slammed it into the huge, tender stake on Sevro's plate. Sevro then proceeded to make a fuss, but accepted the boy, semi-reluctantly. Screwface and Clown kept trying to tempt him into a nasty drink off, while Peeble declared him a worthy Pup, the very first the Howlers ever officially had.

During a Willow Way training session, Darrow's voice echoed from the trainningRoom: 'How are you going to teach my son what I taught you at his age, if you aren't holding your posture right?'. He was carrying his son on his big shoulders. The child looked exactly like the Reaper. Their smiles were different, though, Pax looked more like his mother, the Sovereign, when he smiled.

'Apologizes, sir,' he gave a tired nod.

'You are my lancer, Alexandar, because you deserve it. I've known you since you were a wee one who spread scary rumours about me. I had my offers and pleas and only you got the job, because it's only you I trust,' he put Pax down and gave him a practise razor.

'Now, you can practise the basics with Pax, sunce you look like you need to revise them again. I do worn you, he knows the sequences with his eyes closed.' He retreated at the back of the room, pulled out a book from a shelf and sat in a wooden chair.

'Hi, kiddo! I'm Alex! Did you know I made up the rumour about your da' eating glass?'. Pax's cristalline laugh ecjoed in the room.

'Start, already!'

I ended up writing a small one-shot about my favourite Pup, Alexandar au Arcos. It's all @m-austinbooks 's fault, because she reminded me of how much Darrow loved Alex. And now everyone shall cry with me because why not. I am a lousy writer, but I am ok with this piece, so...YAY, i guess!

[evan-hand-soap]

Surprise Date

Todoroki x Reader

Summary: Todoroki gives his s/o a surprise date UwU

A/n: this is a bit of a quick Drabble but I figured I should post something and I enjoyed writing this:3 I love writing for Todoroki

Genre: fluff. just fluff.

~~~~

You didn’t know anything about tonight except that your boyfriend had asked you to come to his dorm in about 10 minutes. So you of course arrived at his dorm doorstep. You knocked a few times, a little anxious about why he wanted you. The second he popped his door open, you were greeted with your sweet boyfriend in blue pajama pants and a grey sweater. His expression fell into a soft smile and mumbled a small greeting. “Hi.” He said in his low voice. You perked a brow and gave his a suspicious small smile. He wasn’t opening his door all the way, meaning he didn’t want you seeing something behind it. “Hi.. what’s behind the door?” You asked him, which then he held out his hand to take yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, taking your hand into his. “This isn’t like you Todo.. What’re-“ He cut off your rambling and stepped out his door a little. “Come on. Don’t you trust me?” He asked with a tone of curiosity and desperation. You sighed and nodded, closing your eyes as requested. “Don’t open them, Alright?” You nodded with a smile and let him lead you into his room. “Okay.. open your eyes.” He said once he stopped walking and positioned you in place. You opened your eyes and froze in your place, in shock with what was in front of you. His entire room was covered in blankets and sheets making a huge blanket fort all across his room. “Aw- Shouto! This is so cute!” You squeaked, quickly giving him a kiss on his cheek. He grew a small proud smile with a light blush spreading across his face. “I had Ashido and Kaminari help me out since they’re always building forts in the common area. They taught me the basics so we can make some on our own.” “Can- we go inside?” You asked curiously, all the white lights from inside begging for your attention. He nodded and led you through the tunnel which was the entrance. It led into a big main area which had a large white love sack with blankets and fairy lights lining the roof part and the base of the walls, along with a bunch of your favorite snacks. You were completely speechless. You never thought you would have someone who would spend their whole day to do this for you. You were way too flustered to say anything and too blushy to look at him. He didn’t take any offense to this, though, because he watched you grin and turn red and then hide your face in his shirt. Which made him assume he did good and that you liked it. “I assume you like it?” He asked with a tiny smile. “Mhm-“ you squeaked out and wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your temple. “Come on, I’ve got more.” He said in his regular low and flat tone. You clung to him tighter and squealed two words into his neck. “There’s more??” He let out a small chuckle and nodded. You pushed yourself off of him and he led you over to the huge soft love sack in front of the TV. He sat on it and patted beside him as an invitation for you to join him. You hopped on it beside him and locked your arm around his. He reached for a remote and with the push of a button, the Tv turned on and lit up with the Disney castle intro. You had been talking about wanting to watch frozen recently so of course, he decided to make a surprise date for you where you would cuddle and watch frozen.

“You mentioned you wanted to watch Frozen the other day and I haven’t seen it so I figured..” you cut him off, cupping his cheeks and clashing your lips with his quickly. He was startled a little but you’ve done this enough for him to understand. His hand quickly found its way to your lower waist and pulled you closer against his chest, deepening the soft kiss a little. Once you broke apart you both had your foreheads pressed against each other’s. You smiled softly and looked into his blue and grey eyes, pecking his lips again quickly. “How did I get so lucky to end up with such a perfect boyfriend?” You asked softly, nuzzling your head into his neck. You felt him warm up a little, making you giggle and kiss his cheek. “I’m just happy I could make my princess happy.” He responded, wrapping his arm around your torso. The intro to the movie immediately made you pry your head out of his neck and move to face the screen. He pulled you up against his left side and wrapped his arm around you, making you instinctively wrap your arms around his torso and drop your head against his chest and watch. During let it go, you got curious and looked up at him. “Hey sho?” He looked down at you and gave you a look that said ‘Nani?’ “Can you do that?” You asked softly, sounding like a 6 year old asking if Santa is real. “Do what?” “That.” You said and gestured to the movie as she shot small flurries up from her palms. “I have an ice quirk, not a snow quirk. If I attempted that I would just shoot up a bunch of icicles.” You frowned and dropped your head back into its original spot. “I’m sorry to disappoint, Princess. Though I can, hypothetically speaking, build an ice castle like that.” He pointed out, gesturing to the screen. You lifted your head with a small childish grin and looked at him with a sparkle in your eye that gave him butterflies. “Really?” You asked with hope in your tone and expression. “If I had more experience with actually shaping and containing my ice, yes.” You grinned like a goofy kid and kissed his cheek and side of his lips. “That’s awesome!” You chirped, nuzzling back into his chest. Everything you did made his heart race, making him blush and get the fluttery feeling of butterflies in his stomach. “You’re so adorable, you know.” He mumbled, playing with and twisting some of your hair in his fingers. It was your turn to blush and feel the tightening feeling in your chest. You tightened your hold on your boyfriend and averted your eyes from anywhere near his. Half way through the movie he hadn’t been paying much attention to most of that half because he was too busy just admiring how beautiful you were and how lucky he was. In his mind, he was the luckiest guy in the world.

My requests are open but please read my rules first ❤️ [linked in my description]

[pikapeppa]

Cullen/Lavellan modern AU: Five Minutes

Chapter 7 of the Piperford modern AU Luck of the Law is up on AO3! 

In which there is a tiny bit of drama and a LOT of texting. I just really really love texting in fics, ok? Like A LOT. THANKS TO @schoute FOR INDULGING ME IN MY STORY ABOUT HER BABIES!!

Read here on AO3. A small excerpt only here, since formatting “texts” in Tumblr is basically a circle of hell. 

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Piper bobbed her head happily as she scrolled around on the karaoke laptop for a good song. The Hanged Man would be opening in an hour or so, and Hawke was behind the bar lazily counting the cash before the start of shift.

“Come on, Pipes, throw something on already!” she called.

“Yeah, yeah, hold your halla,” Piper retorted, but with no real annoyance. In truth, she was still feeling so elated from last night’s date with Cullen that it felt like nothing could bother her. Some idiot taxi driver had almost rammed into her when she was biking to the grocery store this afternoon, and she was in such a good mood that she hadn’t even jumped off of her bike to yell at him like she usually would.

She finally picked a song: Howlin’ For You by the Black Keys. The heavy drumbeat and gritty guitar riffs thrummed through the Hanged Man’s speakers, and Piper relished the sound as she made her way behind the bar to start cutting up the drink garnishes.

Hawke smirked at her. “This song again, hey?”

Piper pulled out a small knife and cutting board and selected a freshly rinsed lemon from the draining board beside the sink. “What do you mean?”

Hawke shrugged. “You’ve been listening to this super-sexy song a lot today. You had it on loop in the shower this morning. Something on your mind?”

Her tone was exceedingly innocent. Piper snickered as she picked up the knife. “Is this what you’re doing when you stay over in the spare bedroom? Listening in while I take my shower? That’s pretty pervy, even for you.”

“It’s hard not to listen when your music is blasting through the entire upper floor,” Hawke retorted. “Not that I mind. By all means, blast your sexy jams all you like.” She started to grind her hips in an exaggeratedly sexual dance and slowly shuffled closer to Piper.

Piper laughed and elbowed her. “Get out of here before I cut you.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Hawke drawled, then cackled raucously as Piper put the knife down and playfully pushed her away. They scuffled childishly for a minute, Hawke pulling Piper’s hair while Piper poked Hawke’s notoriously ticklish sides, then returned to their tasks.

“Seriously though, I’m glad you had a good time last night,” Hawke said. “I knew Cullen was a good guy. I just had a fifth sense about it.”

Piper rolled her eyes with a smile. “Uh-huh,” she said. She’d told Hawke about Cullen being a good sport about the concert, and that they’d spent the rest of the night just walking around the city and talking, but she hadn’t gone into more detail than that. The date had just been so perfect that Piper wanted to keep the details to herself, like a dragon hoarding a treasure trove of sweet memories.

“When are you seeing him again?” Hawke asked.

“I’m not sure,” Piper said. “We haven’t set anything concrete yet.” She started briskly slicing the lemon into wedges. Cullen had texted her around noon as usual, and they’d exchanged a flurry of flirty messages before he’d had to meet with Hawke during his lunch, but neither of them had mentioned a second date yet.

“Your ears are pink,” Hawke said matter-of-factly.

Piper self-consciously wrinkled her nose as she arranged the lemon wedges in the garnish tray. “Don’t look at my ears.”

“It’s cute!” Hawke protested. “If it makes you feel any better, his ears were just as pink when I went to his office today and found him texting you. It was fucking adorable.”

“Shut up,” Piper groaned. She put the knife down and hid her stupid smile and her hot cheeks with her hands. “You’ll jinx it.”

Hawke barked out a laugh as she returned the cash drawer to the register. “Don’t be stupid. That’s not a thing.”

Piper tsked at her. “Says you. My luck’s been holding pretty well so far. I’d like to keep it that way, thanks.”

Hawke shot Piper a curious look. “Seriously?” she said. “Do you really think luck has anything to do with what happens in a relationship?” She washed her hands, then picked up a second knife and cutting board and a citrus juicer.

Piper shrugged casually. “Could be. Who knows? Luck probably plays as much a role as anything else. I mean, you can never really know what people are going to do, right? People are a fucking mystery.”

Hawke didn’t reply. A few seconds later, Piper raised an eyebrow at her friend’s uncharacteristic silence. “What’s up?”

Hawke shrugged as she continued juicing the limes. “Just thinking. People really are a fucking mystery, aren’t they? They’re usually a pleasant surprise, though.”

Piper huffed. “And sometimes they’re a nasty surprise.” She turned to the sink to wash her hands. She hadn’t really meant to get philosophical, and she was kind of regretting the turn this conversation was taking.

She fished around for a crude joke to distract Hawke, but Hawke beat her to the punch. “Well, I hope Cullen will surprise you by being nice and nasty in bed,” she said bluntly.

Piper threw her head back and laughed, half in genuine amusement and half in relief as the mood immediately lightened. “Fuck’s sake, you are obsessed. When’s the last time you had sex?”

Hawke gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you ask a lady such a question! Uhh, six months or something like that.”

Piper tutted in disappointment. “Well, that explains it. You clearly need some cock. You’d better get busy.”

Hawke snickered and bumped her with her hip. “I will if you will.”

They grinned at each other, then continued their start-of-shift tasks as they chatted about idle things. Some time later, however, they were surprised by a knock on the door of the Hanged Man.

They looked up, then glanced at each other. They weren’t opening for another twenty minutes or so.

“I’ll get it,” Piper said. She sauntered around the bar toward the door and checked the peephole.

It was Cullen. He was dressed in his full suit and tie and he looked slightly nervous, and Piper’s heart instantly leapt with excitement at the sight of him.

She opened the heavy black door and grinned. “Why, hello there, counsellor. Did Hawke forget something at your office this afternoon?”

He smiled as he stepped inside. “No. I, er… came to see you, in fact.”

Her eyebrows rose with happy surprise. “Me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I was thinking - and we hadn’t had the chance to say… Piper, would you care to go out with me again?”

She grinned at his swiftly reddening cheeks, then laughed. She couldn’t help it. He was just so sweet. “Of course,” she said. “I told you last night that I wanted to.”

“I recall,” he said. “I just wanted to confirm.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie.

She studied him with a nearly painful rush of fondness. “You could have just texted me,” she said.

He scoffed and dropped his hand back to his side. “I’m not quite as swift at texting as you. I figured this would be… faster.”

Bullshit, she thought affectionately. He was a perfectly fast texter. She raised her eyebrows and coquettishly folded her arms. “Coming all the way to Lowtown was faster than texting me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “All right, no, it wasn’t. But…” He trailed off and met her eyes, and Piper’s amusement faded as he studied her with those lovely chocolate-brown eyes of his.

The scarred corner of his lip lifted slightly. “Some things are better said in person,” he said softly.

Piper bit her stupidly grinning lip and dropped her eyes. Like his clockwork-reliable texts from last week, she recognized this visit for what it really was: an excuse to see her.

Fuck’s sake, she really wanted to kiss him. She didn’t know if she’d ever wanted to kiss anyone this badly in her life.

But Hawke was standing behind the bar juicing the limes, and Piper could practically feel Hawke’s attention on the back of her head.

She took a deep and calming breath. “Well, consider this a confirmation,” she told him. “I would love to go out with you again.”

He smiled and released a breath of his own. “That’s wonderful. I… yes. So, er, when is your next free evening?”

“Wednesday,” Piper replied, with a hint of regret. A whole five days away…

Cullen nodded. “Then I will see you on Wednesday. I suppose we can text to sort out the details.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of humour, and Piper laughed.

“You can bear to text, even though it takes sooo long?” she teased.

He chuckled. “Yes, Piper, I will text. For you.” He took a step back toward the door of the Hanged Man. “I must get going; I’m not quite finished my work for the day. But I’m grateful for your time.”

She chuckled as she followed him to the door. He was so damned polite. “All right. Don’t work too hard,” she said, even though she knew it was futile.

He smiled at her. “I… will do my best,” he said. “Goodnight.”

“Bye,” she said. She watched with a goofy grin as he walked over to his car, then returned his casual wave as he slid into the driver’s seat.

She went back into the Hanged Man and made her way back to the bar. “All right, all right,” she said to a widely-grinning Hawke. “Say whatever you’re going to say. Just get it out of your system.”

Hawke shrugged. “I’ve got nothing,” she said. “He’s just…” She trailed off and juiced another half-lime, then tilted her head. “This is great, okay?” She waved her hand vaguely at Piper. “This whole thing you guys have going on. I just want to sit here and eat popcorn and cry while I watch you guys flirting-”

Piper laughed and pulled a rag and the cleaning spray from under the sink. “Creators, we really need to find you a hobby.”

Hawke tilted her head back and groaned. “Please, take pity on me. Your life is like a nice escape from mine. I honestly can’t wait for this damned case to be wrapped up.”

Piper winced and immediately sobered. Hawke always put on such a cheerful face that it was easy to forget sometimes about the murder charges.  

“Just one more month until the court hearing, right?” Piper said encouragingly. “Your charges will be dropped, and everything’ll be fine.”

Hawke grimaced. “Your turn not to jinx it, now.”

Piper scoffed. “Please. It’s Cullen. If he thinks the charges will be dropped, then they’ll be dropped for sure.”

Hawke nodded. “Yeah, of course. And if it seems like he’s not convincing the judge, he can just pop the top button of his shirt and distract them with a glimpse of his sexy chest.”

Piper laughed, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy as she studied Hawke’s determined smile. It had been a month since Malcolm’s death, and aside from a few brief bursts of tears that Hawke immediately made fun of herself for, Hawke had barely talked about her father’s death, or about how things were back at her house.

Not that Hawke could really talk about it, given the charges and the legal matters and all. But Hawke was a big one for talking about her shit in detail - all couched in humour and jokes, of course - and it made Piper’s heart hurt a little bit to see her working so hard to keep it to herself.

Piper sprayed one section of the bar, then briskly started wiping it down. “You’re staying over at our place tonight, right?”

Hawke shrugged. “Ah, I shouldn’t. The house is kind of in a shambles. I don’t think the dishwasher’s been emptied in two days-”

“Fuck that,” Piper announced. “It’s just dishes. Especially if they’re clean. Come over,” she coaxed. “I really need your help with another stupid level of Portal 2.”

Hawke primly turned her nose up. “I thought Isabela was your new Portal partner.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “That was one time!”

Hawke mock-pouted for another moment, then sighed. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “In the meantime, tell me about your next date. When’s it going to be?”

Piper raised one eyebrow at her irrepressible friend. “What, you weren’t listening in?”

“No, actually,” Hawke said, with as much dignity as she could muster. “I try to limit my spying to what I can see and hear without straining my eyes and ears.”

“A strategic stalker? Well, I guess that’s… something,” Piper deadpanned.

Hawke snickered, then screwed the cap onto the bottle of freshly squeezed lime juice. “Come on, then. When are you seeing him again?”

“Wednesday,” Piper said. She shifted along the bar and sprayed the next section.

“Five whole days?” Hawke said with dismay. “Ugh, that’s so long. Well, good luck with your lady blue balls until then.” She turned away to stock the fresh juices and garnishes in the fridge.

Piper snorted with amusement. Exactly what I was thinking, she thought, but she didn’t say it. Silly and superstitious it might sound, but she really didn’t want to jinx the budding ties between herself and Cullen. Their first date might have been perfect, but Piper wanted to make sure it hadn’t been a lucky fluke.

As it turned out, she was wise to have been cautious in her expectations.

Read the rest on AO3!

[purple-urself]

Wild At Heart - A Kiribaku Zoo AU

So this is a tiny bit late, but I’m so proud to post my fic for the @takemyhandzine! This was such a great experience for me, thank you to everyone who took part in creating such an amazing project!

Title: Wild At Heart Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Summary: "Technically, Eijirou isn’t actually supposed to be back here. It’s mainly reserved for keepers, vets, and sometimes security. But since him and Bakugou have been growing closer, Bakugou had for some reason decided Eijirou was trustworthy enough to accompany him. A terrible decision really, but one Eijirou appreciates nonetheless."

Or,

The one were Bakugou shows his caring side and Kiri swoons lol

READ IT ON A03

“And that concludes our Elephant talk for today!” Eijirou announces to the crowds of people gathered around the huge enclosure. “Thank you so much for listening! I’ll be hanging around for the next half an hour, if anyone has any further questions about the Hi Way herd, please don’t hesitate to ask. My next talk will be in the jaguar house at 3:30pm, so if that’s something you’re interested in I’ll see you there!”

Eijirou finishes his speech with a wave, stepping down from the podium and immediately turning off his head mic.

The crowd begins to chatter amongst themselves, and Eijirou takes the time to gaze across the desert terrain towards the creatures that lived within.

The Hi Way family were a herd of 7 Asian elephants, the youngest being only three weeks old. Little Anjan was trotting around in the sunshine, never straying far from his mother. Having a new baby at the zoo always boosted visitor numbers, and Eijirou couldn’t help but smile as he sees a man lift a little girl onto his shoulders for a better view of the calf.

“Excuse me.” The voice comes from his left, and Eijirou turns to find a boy, around the age of 12, with what seems to be his parents close behind.

“Hey!” Eijirou says enthusiastically, “Did you have a question for me?”

The boy glances back to his parents, who nod at him encouragingly. Eijirou smiles at him, and waits patiently.

“Well, um. I was just wondering, how much food they actually eat? ‘Cos they’re huge y’know?”

The boy holds his arms wide, as if imitating the size of an elephant, and Eijirou chuckles.

“It’s a really good question, and to be honest i’m not sure of the exact answer.” Eijirou tells the kid thoughtfully. “But what I do know is that they spend most of their time eating. Because they’re so big, they have to eat a lot of food so they get enough energy.”

The boy nods, as if agreeing with him.

“That makes sense I guess.”

“Was there anything else you wanted to ask?” Eijirou glances towards the parents questioningly.

“No, that was it.” The boy replies, going to grab his father’s arm to pull him towards the next animal.

“What do you say to him, Kouta?” The woman asks before the boy could run off.

“Thanks!” He shouts hastily before running off, parents trailing behind.

Eijirou smiles as he watches them go, before his attention is caught by another visitor, eager to learn more about the Hi Way herd.

Eijirou gets to the jaguar house a few minutes early, just in time to meet his favorite keeper at the back gate.

Bakugou doesn’t seem to notice him approach, instead focusing on the two big plastic containers he’s trying to balance in his arms.

“Dude!” Eijirou calls out, trying to get Bakugou’s attention. He succeeds, causing Bakugou to startle and fumble with the containers. Eijirou dashes forwards, catching them before they can fall.

“Dumbass, why would you shout me like that?” Bakugou growls at him, snatching his containers back from Eijirou.

“I was gonna offer to help! My huge manly muscles would finally be put to good use.” Eijirou flexes dramatically, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, cheeks turning slightly pink.

“I don’t need your muscles, just open the gate.”

Eijirou does, following Bakugou to the staff entrance of the building.

Technically, Eijirou isn’t actually supposed to be back here. It’s mainly reserved for keepers, vets, and sometimes security. But since him and Bakugou have been growing closer, Bakugou had for some reason decided Eijirou was trustworthy enough to accompany him. A terrible decision really, but one Eijirou appreciated nonetheless.

Bakugou puts both containers down on the stainless steel work surface, snapping on some latex gloves before going to open the lids.

“Please don’t tell me there’s something dead in those boxes.” Eijirou says in trepidation. Bakugou ignores him, reaching inside on if the containers and bringing out a whole dead chicken, feathers and all.

Eijirou wrinkles up his nose, looking away from the gorey sight.

“You’re the one who chooses to come in here, hair-for-brains.” Bakugou tells him. “I’m just doing my job.”

“I guess I’ll go and hang with Midoriya in the Education Center for ten minutes then.” Eijirou says innocently, turning on his heel to head for the door.

“I’ll be done in a minute, for fucks sake!”

Eijirou hides his grin.

With Bakugou still fiddling around with the dead chicken, Eijirou wonders into the next room, where there are two monitors showing grainy footage of the inside of the enclosure.

A closer look reveals Napo, their 11 year old golden-coated Jaguar, asleep on his favorite rock. Every once in a while his tail flicks outwards, but other than that he’s completely still.

Eijirou moves forward to flick through the 12 different camera feeds stationed around various sections of the enclosure. He finds Goshi after a good few minutes of searching. She’s always harder to spot owing to her pitch black fur, but eventually he sees her tucked away underneath a rock, overhanging a small stream that runs through the outdoor section of the enclosure.

She’s always been the shy one of the two, but it’s become more prominent since falling pregnant.

Or so Eijirou was told, he’d only started working for the zoo three months ago, which was around the time Bakugou and the vets guess that she might have gotten pregnant. She was due any day now, which seemed to be making Bakugou nearly as illusive as Goshi herself.

The keeper had been spending most of his time with the jaguars over the past week, Eijirou had noted. He also had the zoo vets on call, ready to help out with the birth at a moments notice.

His phone started to beep at him, signalling the alarm he’d set two minutes before his show was to start. He goes back into the main room, Bakugou wiping down the counters with the prepared food inside each of the tubs again.

“I’ve gotta go.” Eijirou tells him, gesturing towards the door. “But I’ll see you after?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou mumbles before looking up. “I’ll be feeding them separately again, Goshi inside and Napo outside.”

Eijirou nods at the info, knowing he’ll need it for his talk later.

“Awesome, see you later.”

Eijirou waves a quick goodbye before heading to the front of the enclosure.

There’s a barrier surrounding the enclosure looking across a small revine, on the other side of which is a forested area, complete with a running stream. There are a few small trees dotted around, and a huge wooden tree trunk, which was basically a glorified scratching post.

There’s already a small crowd gathered around the enclosure, but it doesn’t seem like any of them has spotted Goshi in the shadows.

As if hearing his thoughts, Goshi emerges from her hiding spot beneath the rocks, which causes quite a stir amongst the onlookers. There’s a flurry of camera snaps before she disappears inside. He can hear some of the visitors complain about how quickly she disappears, which makes Eijirou roll his eyes. Some people that visit the zoo don’t really understand that the animals actually have a choice whether they want to be seen or not. This isn’t some circus that forces them to perform. It’s a place to keep endangered animals safe, and to help increase populations of at-risk species.

Eijirou quickly steps up to the small podium to the side of the viewing area, putting on his head mic, and flicking it on.

“Not to worry folks, that’s not the last jaguar you’re going to see today!” He starts, trying to appease the grumbling crowd. “My Name is Kirishima Eijirou and I’m going to be telling you some fascinating facts about our jaguars today!”

Eijirou goes through his basic introduction for the jaguars, spouting off facts about their habitat and biology, keeping a close eye on the enclosure for any sign of movement.

He spots Bakugou not long after, striding into the enclosure, bringing with him the dead chicken from earlier carried on top of a long pole.

“And as you can see here, not a jaguar but just as scary, our keeper Bakugou Katsuki will be feeding Napo some lovely raw chicken.” He gets a few chuckles from the audience. “Keeper Bakugou will be putting the chicken right at the top of our 20ft scratch post.”

Bakugou does as Eijirou describes, using the pole to hook the chicken right at the top of the trunk.

“You might think this is a little cruel of the keepers, putting the food so out of reach from our Jaguar, but as you’ll see in a moment, getting the food down from that height will be no problem for him.”

Bakugou retreats from the enclosure, and Eijirou begins to tell the crowd about their two Jaguars.

“Napo, the Jaguar being fed here today, is our male jaguar. He’s 11 years old, and has the classic gold fur colouring with black rosettes. Goshi is our female jaguar, slightly younger than Napo at 10 years old. Some of you may have caught a glimpse of her just before my talk began. She has a black coat, though if you were to look really close, you’d still be able to see the black rosettes along her fur. Goshi is also expecting some cubs, so she’s going to be fed separately to make sure she gets enough to eat.”

Eijirou can see some of the crowd's attention being shifted from him back towards the enclosure, and sure enough, he looks over to find Napo slinking into view. He allows the crowd to chat amongst themselves for a moment .

“So here’s Napo, and as you can see, he’s opening his mouth and scrunching his nose slightly, which is, believe it or not, how he scents the air. He’s sniffing around, and he can already tell there’s food somewhere inside the enclosure.”

Napo slowly creeps towards the tree trunk, keeping an eye on the chicken at the top.

“He won’t run up and grab the food right away, like a house cat, he’ll look around for any danger or competition, and get ready to pounce when he feels like the time is right.”

As if on cue, Napo bounds towards the trunk at top speed, using his claws to drag himself up the bark. The crowd gasp at the display, camera shutters going off wildly.

The jaguar grips the chicken by the teeth, pulling it free, then leaping gracefully back to the ground. The crowd applaud, which Eijirou never understands because it only causes the animals to spook, but Napo seems to ignore them.

He settles down with his meal, ripping off chucks of meat clutched between his paws.

Eijirou finishes off the talk with some key facts about jaguar conservation, and how the audience could help with saving the planet, one recycled plastic bottle at a time.

After answering questions on the jaguars, Eijirou makes his way to the back rooms again, finding Bakugou hovering over the security footage, watching Goshi tear apart her own chicken.

“How’s she doing?” Eijirou asks when Bakugou doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

“She’s eating fine.” He says, not looking away, “Which is good. She seems comfortable, so I don’t think it’ll be today.”

“How will you be able to tell?” Eijirou enquires curiously.

“She’ll become restless, start pacing. She might even get aggressive with Napo, though they’ve been together for so long I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Eijirou nods to himself, not commenting, content on watching the jaguar consume her ‘prey’.

Bakugou lets Napo back inside once she’s done, and they both seem to settle down together, laying on a heated rock right next to the visitor viewing area. This gets quite a reaction from the crowd gathered in front of the glass, Kirishima can see camera flashes going off through the security feed.

“Are you staying?” Bakugou asks him, making his way to the small staffroom out back.

“I have a few minutes.” Eijirou replies, checking his phone. He trails after Bakugou, taking a seat at the tiny table in the corner of the room, whilst Bakugou makes them both coffee. Eijirou takes the mug gratefully, blowing on it before taking a sip.

Bakugou settles in the seat opposite, grabbing about 10 packets of sugar and dumping them all in his mug. Eijirou watches him wearily.

“That can’t be good for you.”

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Bakugou mumbles, stirring in the monstrous amounts of sugar.

“It kinda does.” Eijirou laughs. Bakugou frowns at him, so he continues, “No one looks as good as you do without caring about their health.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen slightly, and Eijirou can feel himself beginning to blush.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eijirou scrambles for an explanation. “J-Just that you’re super buff!” He flexes a bicep as an example. “There’s no way those muscles of yours are natural.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but Eijirou can tell he’s trying not to grin.

“I go to the gym, yeah.” He admits, “So that means I can have 10 sugars in my coffee and you’re not allowed to judge me for it.”

“I’m still judging you.” Eijirou tells him, trying not to let out a smile.

Bakugou snorts derisively. He opens his mouth to retort, but is interrupted by Eijirou’s phone.

“Ah, shit.” Eijirou plucks his phone out of his pocket, swiping the alarm off. “Five minutes until the penguin talk, I gotta run!”

Bakugou nods in understanding, and Eijirou swigs the rest of his coffee as he gets to his feet.

“I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?” Bakugou asks him, frowning at his half-empty mug.

“Yep, usual time and place!” Eijirou confirms. He puts his empty mug in the sink, then rushes out of the room with a backwards wave, “See ya tomorrow!”

The next day starts as normal, a team briefing in the morning, followed by assignments. Eijirou has a Meerkat talk first thing, which is always great because the kids really get a kick out of them. Next is the Komodo dragon, then the Chimpanzees. By the time he answers all the questions the audience has for him, Eijirou realises he’s running late for his lunch with Bakugou.

He makes it to the staff cafeteria 5 minutes late, glancing around, trying to spot the familiar spiky blond hair and annoyed scowl. He doesn’t see Bakugou anywhere, and after a few more minutes of searching, he realises Bakugou isn’t even there.

Maybe he’s running late, like Eijirou had been? It’s uncommon, but not unheard of. He knows Bakugou gets caught up in work, and tends not to notice irrelevant things like ‘time’.

He decides the grab a sandwich, taking a seat close to the window so he’d be able to see Bakugou approach.

He starts eating by himself, scrolling through his phone as he does so. He’s finished his sandwich when he glances at the time again. Bakugou is now 20 minutes late.

Eijirou bites his lip, wondering if he’d done anything to offend Bakugou, or if he was just late. Or maybe he’d arrived on time, and couldn’t be bothered to wait for Eijirou to show up. The thought makes him frown, hoping that wasn’t actually the case.

He opens the messenger app on his phone, shooting off a text to Bakugou asking if he was held up. Eijirou hopes there’s nothing seriously wrong.

As soon as Eijirou turns up to the Jaguar talk, he realises why Bakugou had stood him up.

There’s a sign just outside the Jaguar house, directing visitors away, due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’.

Goshi must have had her cubs.

Eijirou grins at the thought, full of excitement over the new arrivals. He contemplates going through the back door, wanting to see for himself, be he knows that it’s a bad idea. There’s probably other keepers and vets hanging around, and he doesn’t want to get in the way. He decides he’ll wait to hear from Bakugou before attempting to visit.

Eijirou plucks his radio from his belt, informing his supervisor of the situation. Aizawa tells him to go help out in the education centre for an hour before resuming his planned talks.

When Eijirou comes into work the next day, he isn’t sure what to expect.

He’d gotten home just after sunset the day before, calling his moms as he made dinner for himself. They were the same as usual, asking about the animals and his friends in and out of work. He’d moved cities specifically for this job, so he really missed being able to see both of his moms everyday.

He answered their questions, staying on the line even as he was eating his dinner. After hanging up, he had a quick shower before heading to bed.

It was when he was checking his phone right before falling asleep that he finally heard back from Bakugou.

“Sorry for not replying sooner. Goshi had the cubs.”

Attached to the message was a picture of Goshi, curled into a ball, fast asleep. He was able to make out tiny ears and paws poking out of Goshi’s larger frame. Eijirou felt his heart melt at the image, wanting to meet the cubs desperately.

“Congratulations!!” he types out, “You’re going to be an amazing Father ;)”

It only took a few moments for Bakugou to reply.

“I was going to let you meet them tomorrow, but now I’m not sure you deserve it.”

Eijirou gripped his phone tighter and grinned at the snarky response.

“Haa, that’s mean Bakugou! I’m gonna be a great mom to those cubs, just you wait.”

“First of all, you’re not actually allowed to take care of them, that’s my job.”

Eijirou snorted, but didn’t reply, waiting for Bakugou to finish typing.

“Second, they already have a mom, idiot.”

Eijirou maked a face, typing out his response.

“I have two moms, and I turned out just great :P”

“Damn fine, you can meet them tomorrow.”

Eijirou smiles at the thought of being able to meet the Jaguar cubs today. He heads to the staff briefing, arranging with his supervisor to change his break time so it coincides with when the Jaguar talk was meant to happen. Aizawa stares at him when he makes the request, but ends up shrugging his shoulders and telling him to “do what you want, as long as you work the proper hours,” which is fine with Eijirou.

He gets through his animal talks, replacing his usual lunch break with a session about their herd of black rhinos. He is gets more and more antsy as the day goes on, quietly admitting to himself that maybe it wasn’t just the cubs he was excited to see.

As soon as Eijirou’s lunch break arrives, he practically sprints to the cafeteria, grabbing himself and Bakugou a sandwich. He has no idea when the last time Bakugou ate was, but knowing him, he’d likely sacrifice his break time in order to look after the cubs.

Eijirou gets to the Jag house, opening the back gate and knocking impatiently at the door. He waits for a couple of minutes, about to call Bakugou, but the door eventually swings open to reveal the man himself.

Bakugou looks as if he hadn’t slept in days, with dark circles under his eyes and hair more of a mess than usual. He’s smiling though, which is a rare sight, and Eijirou can’t help but smile back.

“Mama’s here to see his children.” He tells Bakugou, who rolls his eyes, beckoning him inside.

The kitchen area is a bit of a mess, with feeding equipment littered across the work space. Bakugou ignores the mess, leading him towards the security feed.

Eijirou gasps at the image; two tiny balls of yellow fluff in amongst a mountain of hey. They’re not moving, apart from a slight flick of the ears every minute or so.

“Have they got names yet?” He asks in a hushed voice, though he’s pretty sure the sleeping cubs can’t actually hear him.

“Not yet,” Bakugou tells him lowly, “Haven’t had much time to think about it.”

Eijirou nods, making a mental note to annoy Bakugou with texts of different names until he actually decides on two.

“Why aren’t they with their Goshi?” He asks curiously.

“They just got done with the vets. Weighed them and stuff.” Bakugou rubs the stubble just begging to grow at his jaw, “They seem healthy enough, but Goshi is refusing to let them feed.” Eijirou frowns but Bakugou continues before he can ask, “It’s pretty common with animals bred in captivity. We’re trying to get her to let them feed, but in the meantime they’ll be bottle fed.”

Eijirou nods in understanding, watching the two new arrivals for a couple more moments.

“Speaking of feeding, when was the last time you ate?”

Bakugou frowns, and Eijirou can tell he’s trying to remember if he forgot to eat lunch.

“I guess this morning?”

Eijirou shakes his head, glad he had the forethought to buy some food for Bakugou as well as himself.

“You’re lucky to have such a great friend like me taking care of you.” He tells Bakugou jokingly, leading him out of the security office and towards the staffroom. This time it’s Eijirou making them both a coffee, whilst Bakugou rips open the sandwich and begins to eat. Eijirou dumps ten sugar packs in Bakugou’s coffee, placing it down in front of him.

“Black coffee, with enough sugar to make even you turn sweet.” Eijirou winks and Bakugou flips him off, mouth too full to verbally cuss him out.

Eijirou laughs at his response, sitting down to dig in to his own food. Bakugou tells him about the day before, coming into work to find Goshi in labour but not yet given birth. He had called the vet just incase of any complications, but leaving Goshi alone was the best thing to do.

“Got home late, and I couldn’t really sleep anyway.” Bakugou ruffles the hair at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ended up getting here at six this morning, just to check on them.”

Eijirou’s eyes flicker down to the empty mug in front of Bakugou. “You want a refill?” he asks, gesturing to it with a grin.

“I’ve had… more than I care to admit already.” Bakugou grimaces and Eijirou bites his lip hesitantly.

“You need to look after yourself better dude.” He says seriously. Bakugou waves him off, and Eijirou drops the subject. He knows that this is a stressful time for Bakugou, and as much as he jokes about it, Bakugou does kind of exude the aura of a new father, complete with wrinkled clothes and too much coffee.

They clear up their lunch, heading back to the main room, Bakugou fiddling around with the milk bottles before handing one over to Eijirou. He stares at it for a second, taking it slowly from Bakugou’s grip.

“Are you serious?” He asks astonished.

“If you ever tell anyone I let you feed them, I’ll kill you.”

“I promise! It’ll be our secret.” Eijirou pretends to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key.

“Oh good, finally some peace and quiet around here.”

Eijirou mock gasps, slapping Bakugou lightly in retaliation.

They both wash their hands and snap on a pair of rubber gloves, before Bakugou leads him towards the other room, and Eijirou feels a slight wave of nervousness. He’s never actually been inside the enclosure before. Or any enclose for that matter.

“Are you sure the Napo and Goshi are locked outside?” He asks as Bakugou opens to first door, closing it straight after them.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Bakugou opens the second door, allowing Eijirou to slip inside and locking it behind them.

From here, Eijirou can see the tiny balls of fluff beginning to stir. He steps closer, watching them roll around, tiny paws flailing in the air.

“Oh my God.” He says softly, not being able to express in words how adorable they were.

“Yeah.” He glances at Bakugou, who is looking at the cubs with an expression Eijirou had never seen before. He felt his heart rate speed up at the soft expression on Bakugou’s face. “Come on, they’re probably hungry.”

Bakugou sweeps them both into his arms, and one of them lets out a tiny squeak. Eijirou has to cover his mouth to keep from gasping out loud at how cute that was.

Bakugou settles down in amongst the leaves and foliage of the enclosure, gesturing for Eijirou to join him.

“It’s not that much different from holding a house cat.” Bakugou tells him, placing the tiny cub in his lab, “For now, anyway.”

Eijirou nods, putting down the milk bottle he was still carrying to pick the little guy up. He couldn’t really feel the fur underneath the rubber gloves, but he could tell it was soft and fluffy. The cub waves his paws in the air, mewling softly.

“I’m gonna call you Katsuki.” He decides and Bakugou huffs beside him.

“That’s not going to be his name.” He says, but Eijirou just shrugs.

They start feeding the cubs, who drink the milk out of the bottle with ease. Bakugou tells him it’s important for them to drink it all to stay as healthy as possible, so Eijirou makes sure his cub has every last drop.

“They’re so precious.” Eijirou says as he pets the cub, who is trying to grab at his gloves. He glances over at Bakugou, who is trying to coax his own fluff-ball out from under his legs. He manages to get ahold of her, laying her gently on his forearm so he can pet her against his chest.

Eijirou can feel his heart stop at the sight. Bakugou being so gently and caring apparently makes him go a little crazy.

“You should- I mean we should.” Eijirou tries to get out his words whilst he has the courage. “We should like. Do something after work.”

Bakugou looks up from the cub, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Do something.”

Eijirou feels his cheeks flood we heat, and quickly amends himself.

“Like a movie or food or something.”

“A date?” Bakugou is staring at him now, and Eijirou can feel his confident evaporating by the second.

“Yeah. You know, if you want. Or something.”

Bakugou looks back at the cub in his arms, and Eijirou can feel the rejection coming, except he notices the slight flush on Bakugou’s cheeks, and the small smile tugging at his lips.

[beeftony]

Failsafe

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2032 Characters: Catra (She-Ra), Entrapta (She-Ra) Summary:

Catra and Entrapta formulate a plan based on a piece of First Ones' tech... after it traps them together in Entrapta's lab.

Author’s Notes:

So after binging this show, I became possessed by this idea and had to let it out, which after several months of having to force myself to write felt really good. I've been having Catra feelings this whole week, so you all get to suffer too.

It was a rather childish drawing, excused somewhat by the fact that it had been drawn by children. Though imperfect in its portrayal of things like background, perspective, and basic anatomy, the pure, unbridled imagination of it all shined through regardless. It depicted two figures flying, unassisted by any sort of aircraft, raining destruction down upon a forest. The horrors that they had imagined inhabiting the Whispering Woods were not so frightening when rendered in crayon, with their tongues lolling out and big x’s where their eyes should be.

Things had played out differently in real life, of course, but at least that last part of the drawing had come true, in its own way. Catra glared at the paper as she walked down the hall, before crumpling it into a wad and tossing it to the side. She’d found it while cleaning out her previous quarters after her promotion to Second in Command afforded her a much better living space. Just when she finally thought she’d erased all remnants of Adora’s memory from her surroundings, something else popped up like a bad penny.

She groaned and continued her rounds. The sound of excited typing and giggling could be heard a short distance away, and before long she entered a large room that had been converted into a laboratory. Half-stripped bots and other spare parts lined the tables, along with a motley collection of tools, note-paper, and absurdly tiny sweets. At the far end of the chamber, in front of an enormous computer, Entrapta was lost in her work, oblivious to almost everything around her. And yet, she still noticed Catra’s arrival,  waving at her with a piece of her prehensile hair.

Catra heard skittering behind her, and stepped quickly to the side as the Princess’ pet robot marched into the room, extending a limb towards her and passing something into her hair.

“Oh hey, Catra. Emily says you dropped this.” She tossed it over her shoulder, and Catra caught it on instinct, discovering to her chagrin that it was the same paper she’d disposed of earlier.

“I didn’t drop it,” she replied, hurling it to the ground. “I threw it away.”

The robot dubbed Emily obediently picked up the paper, then handed it back to Entrapta, who passed it to her again. And she caught it without thinking, again.

“You shouldn’t litter. Say, do you have a litter box? I’m curious how far the cat thing goes.”

“I am not answering that.” She stuffed the paper into a stray pocket. “Fine. I’ll incinerate this later.”

“Suit yourself. So what brings you to my lab?”

“Checking up on things.” She moved closer, standing to her left, while Emily flanked the Princess on the right. “What are you working on?”

“Well, besides that data crystal you recovered for me, there was a piece of First Ones’ tech I’d been working on for a while.” She motioned to a small green crystal that vaguely resembled a sawblade, with visible cracks that had been carefully welded into one solid piece. “I just got it put back together and I was about to run some tests. Wanna see?”

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Sure.”

Grabbing the crystal with her hair, Entrapta inserted it into a port on the computer, then began clacking away at the keyboard again. “Now, the code in this can be a teensy bit malicious, so I’m working with a few more safeguards this time around. Emily, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside?”

The robot was unable to nod, but turned around and skittered out of the lab, waiting just outside the door.

Catra raised an eyebrow, and the Princess lowered her welding visor before explaining. “Last time I tried plugging this in, it turned all my bots super aggressive. It even made She-Ra act a little weird. She transformed back into Adora and got so spacy even I looked put together by comparison.”

“Well now I’m definitely interested,” she said, leaning in. “You think you can weaponize it?”

“That’s the plan. I just have to—” She was cut off by a loud, blaring alarm. The crystal turned red, followed by all of the computer monitors. The door slammed closed, and Catra could hear a heavy lock sliding in behind it. A flurry of information whizzed by on the computer screens, then everything went black. “Crap.”

She heard something crackle next to her, and Entrapta held up a glowstick with her hair, passing it in front fo the computer and peering around the room.

“What the hell just happened?

“The failsafe kicked in.”

“Huh?”

“Before you walked in, I was isolating this computer from the rest of the network so it wouldn’t infect the whole system like last time,” she elaborated. “When the code from the artifact tried to gain root access, the failsafe I programmed cut power to the system and quarantined the virus. It’ll take a few minutes to lock it down and reboot.”

“Pretend I don’t understand anything you just said,” replied Catra. “Then dumb it down some more.”

“The system shut down to protect itself,” she translated. “It won’t start up again until it’s safe. In the meantime, we’re stuck here.”

“Yeah, I gathered that when the door locked.”

“So you did understand.” She caught a glint of cunning in the Princess’ eye, and saw her smirk. “You play dumb, but I think you know way more than you let on.”

Catra huffed, crossing her arms. “I just don’t like it when you talk all that science-y mumbo-jumbo. Makes my head spin.”

“But you figured out what I meant,” she replied. “Even before I simplified it for you.”

“Whatever.”

“Just be glad we’re not fighting a crazy killer robot right now,” she said. “With all the upgrades I’ve made to Emily I’m not sure we’d survive in such an enclosed space.”

“I’ve gone toe-to-toe with She-Ra and come out of it just fine,” Catra insisted. “I can handle anything.”

“Yeah, well She-Ra doesn’t have a killer instinct. Emily can smell fear. I programmed her to.”

Catra craned her neck back, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“She already had an olfactory sensor for testing air particles. Adding the ability to detect pheromones wasn’t too hard.”

“Do you ever stop tinkering with things?”

“Nope.”

Tapping her foot in the darkness, Catra raised her eyes to the ceiling and waited. Entrapta pulled out her tape recorder.

“Day Twelve. Or was it Fifteen? This place really needs more windows, though that would compromise operational security. The artifact’s origins and intended purpose remain a mystery. It appears to be designed to overwrite other systems and replace them with its own. But why does it fill machines with so much hostility? Was it intended for sabotage against an enemy force, turning their own armaments against them? Or is the damage sustained by the crystal responsible for a degradation in code that—”

“Gah, enough! I don’t care what it’s for! I don’t even see what use it would be!”

Clicking off the tape recorder, Entrapta shrugged. “Well, like I said, you could sabotage an entire enemy network with it just by slipping it into one of their computers. If they rely on robots, you could turn their whole army against them as well. Although Brightmoon wouldn’t really be vulnerable to that kind of assault.”

“We would.”

“Exactly! Now aren’t you glad I isolated us from the rest of the network?”

“Not enough to enjoy being stuck in here with you.” She tapped a claw against her chin. “You mentioned the artifact infected She-Ra. How?”

“Through her sword, I think. It short-circuited her transformation and left her mostly incapacitated. Glimmer had to carry her around.”

A sly grin crept across Catra’s face. “That’s good to know.”

“There’s more. I’ve never gotten a close look at her sword, but it’s definitely First Ones’ tech. It shares a lot of properties with Runestones.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. That’s how she restored the Moonstone and all the other Runestones after that thing with the Black Garnet.” The smile grew wider. “Meaning if we got this thing in contact with the one of the other Runestones…”

Clasping her hands together, Entrapta jumped around excitedly. “That sounds fascinating! And potentially world-ending. But super exciting overall!”

“World-ending?”

“The Runestones keep the planet in balance. Infecting all of them could mean there’d be no world left to conquer. But it’s worth finding out!”

Catra blinked. “On second thought, using it to mess up She-Ra’s day is probably a better plan.”

“If you say so.” She quirked her lips to the side. “What’s the story with you and her anyway?”

“We grew up together,” she answered, glancing away. “Right here. Then the minute she got away from this place, she decided to leave it all behind.”

“Ooh, backstory! Can I record this?” Her hair hovered over a button on her tape recorder.

“No. But don’t worry about me. Her leaving was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was always Shadow Weaver’s favorite, but with Adora out of the way I was finally able to prove my worth to Lord Hordak. Adora always thought she had to protect me growing up, but she was just holding me back. Now that she’s gone, I’m stronger than ever.”

Entrapta squinted, then tilted her head to the side. “I kinda see what you mean. I only joined the Princess Alliance because I thought it would give me a chance to find out more about First Ones’ tech, but I learned more here than I ever did with them. I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“So am I.”

She turned around, leaning in and examining the currently lifeless computer. “Still, if you’re gonna bottle up all those feelings, you should figure out where to put them. Compartmentalizing is only healthy if you have an outlet for all the negative stuff.”

Catra blinked, taking a step back. “What? I’m not bottling anything up!”

“I may not interact with people much,” said Entrapta. “But I’ve spent a lot of time observing them. If you don’t find somewhere to let all that fire out, eventually you’ll burn up.”

Lunging forward, she grabbed the Princess by the shirt and slammed her against the computer monitors. “Listen, you. I—”

She stopped short as the computer lit up, followed by the rest of the room. Ignoring her, Entrapta clapped her hands together excitedly. “Yay! We’re back online!”

Catra let go, and the Princess dropped down into her chair, clacking away at the keyboard like no time had passed. “Okay, no damage to core system files. Virus is contained and the crystal can be safely removed.” She did so with her hair, placing it back on the desk where it originally sat. The door opened, and Emily skittered inside, where Entrapta embraced the robot in a big hug.

“Finally.”

“You see? Once you lock up and throw away the negative parts, the whole system works better.”

Rolling her eyes, Catra walked out the door. “Just don’t kill all of us with that thing. Or at least give me a heads up first.”

“You got it!”

Marching through the hallway, Catra took the scenic route to her new quarters, passing by cadets and avoiding Scorpia. She wasn’t in the mood for her particular brand of cheeriness after the experience she’d just had. Finally, she crested a staircase and opened the door, collapsing on a bed that was entirely too large compared to what she was used to. After tossing and turning for a few  minutes, she stood up, walking out to the balcony that looked over most of the Fright Zone.

Retrieving the paper from her pocket, she undid the crumpling as best she could, but it could never be perfect again. Not like it was before. She stared at it for a while, letting the memories wash over her, before crumpling it again and drawing her arm back, ready to hurl it over the balcony.

But she couldn’t.

Unrolling and flattening it out once again, she grabbed a small dagger from one of the shelves, and stabbed it through the paper, into the wall. It was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

[aiupenn]

Being Vulnerable

After a violent encounter on a mission, Atsushi has to bandage Akutagawa's wounds. [read it on ao3]

The two exhausted men stare at the single bed in defeat. Silence spreads between them, until finally Akutagawa wills his feet to move. He doesn't say anything, but his weary body sighs in relief when he sets down his bag. Atsushi pipes up behind him. "I get the bed."

Akutagawa bites back a groan. He normally wouldn't mind sleeping on the ground, but this time...

He checks the carpet behind him slyly. A few tell-tale red specks stick on the top of the fibers, but nothing that Atsushi would notice.

"I'm taking a bath" Akutagawa finally manages in response.

He closes the bathroom door and stands there for a long while, finally allowing himself some heaving breaths. He's reveling in this rare moment, letting out a whimper and a shiver. He shakes himself out of it quickly, taking off Roshomon--helpfully hiding his blood with its dark fabric. It's more work to peel off the white, now completely red-stained shirt underneath. Bits of it stick behind in the wounds, having been forced into them as he'd been slashed by what felt like thousands of tiny daggers.

Honestly, Akutagawa had been through worse. He'd had deeper cuts, been in more uncomfortable situations, lost more blood... But the pure amount of them seemed to be making him lightheaded with pain. He stumbled over to the tub, and slipped into it, turning on the faucet with much more effort than should be necessary. The water was honestly too cold, but he didn't dare move to change the temperature. He had to suck in breath as the chilly water lapped at each individual cut. It burned.

It took longer than he would admit for him to get the nerve to start washing out the wounds. The water turned a deep shade of cloudy red, and the bottom gained a layer of gravel and debris that had washed out of the wounds.

Some of the cuts simply would not stop bleeding, but by the time the majority of them had, he was exhausted. He felt heavy and worried if he didn't get out soon, he might just fall asleep there in the water. With great effort, he dragged himself out of the tub.

He stared off into the distance as it drained, regaining his composure as best he could in his hazy state. After he felt steady on his feet again, he picked up the shredded bits of shirt and reluctantly shoved it into the trash. He hated the thought of going shirtless all night with someone else in the room, and put Roshomon on. The touch of it caused the little cuts to scream, but he ignored them.

His vision was going a bit blurry and even though he hadn't checked to make sure the tub wasn't stained red, he didn't have it in him to wash it out. He pushed the shower curtain closed, and left the bathroom, flipping off the light.

Atsushi had turned off the room's light already and was snuggled into the bed. He could hear the other man's soft, even breathing, which made him relieved. He wouldn't have to face him like this. The thought of feeling weak in front of him would have made it all even worse.

Thankfully, Atsushi had laid out a stack of blankets and sheets for him, and Akutagawa basically collapsed into it. With less shame than he should have felt, he buried himself into the makeshift bed like a cat. While he had hoped to fall asleep immediately, something in his brain seemed to be stopping him from losing consciousness. It could be the sense of imminent death, but he pushed that thought away. It never helped to be over-dramatic. Still, he lay awake for what felt like hours, but it might've only been minutes.

Just as he was feeling a bit more ready to fall asleep, Atsushi's steady breathing became quicker as he woke up. Akutagawa shut his eyes tighter. Soft footsteps made their way to the bathroom; the light switch clicked on, and he heard the other man suck in a breath.

I should've covered my tracks better, he realized too late.

Atsushi's footsteps neared him. "Akutagawa?"

The black-haired man opened his eyes slowly, refusing to look up at his partner, staring at his pant leg.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he growled, "Let me sleep."

The leg left his view for only a moment and the room's light switched on. Atushi sucked in another breath. "You are not fine," he said, a tinge of concern lacing the annoyed statement. "Let me bandage you up, if you won't yourself."

A hand lightly touched his shoulder, but Akutagawa shied away from the touch, his skin burning underneath the layers of fabric.

A beat, then, "God, Akutagawa..." Atsushi's voice was very hushed.  

The shift had revealed the sheets were now turned a deep shade of red. Obviously, one of his wounds was bleeding more than Akutagawa had realized--or bothered to care.

Atsushi knelt down next to him and reached towards him again. For a second, he had a fleeting thought of letting him take care of him, but that was the blood loss talking. He was fine. He didn't need shit.

There was another gentle touch to his upper arm, and Rashomon reacted instantly. A tendril snapped up Atsushi's wrist and forced him to the ground with a loud thump. Akutagawa followed with it, pinning the white-haired man's other arm down.

He didn't even have a second to be embarrassed by the position they were in--Akutagawa now straddling him and discovering that Atsushi was, in fact, shirtless--before he collapsed on him with a wave of vertigo. He could hear Atsushi's heartbeat now that his cheek rested on his partner's warm chest. It was a little fast, but calming to Akutagawa in his inebriated state. Under normal circumstances, he would have known to retreat in a flurry of faked anger, but right now he didn't have the will. His limbs were so heavy, he wasn't sure he could've anyways. So he stayed there, and listened to the other man's heart beat.

Atsushi took a long moment and a deep, shaky breath, before he moved his wrist out of Rashomon's grasp. "Akutagawa?" his voice was wary, "Are you okay?"

He couldn't even protest this time. The rabid dog just lay there in defeat, his silence speaking volumes.

"I'm going to bandage you up."

Silence.

Atsushi slowly and as gently as possible moved out from underneath him, and then hurried around the hotel room for a moment. The whole time, Akutagawa worked up the energy to sit up. He eventually got it, but not without an accidental grunt. He should be mortified, disgusted, objecting, anything. He wasn't. He was exhausted.

Not long after he'd dragged himself up, Atsushi returned and settled himself next to him. He looked at him questioningly and Akutagawa stared back with an empty gaze.

"Take off your coat," the man-tiger finally said.

This he did have the wherewithal to object to. His gaze hardened to stone. Now that he thought about it, it was to be expected. But that didn't make it go down any better. It wasn't being shirtless in front of Atsushi that was a problem, it was being shirtless in front of anyone. He wouldn't say he was ashamed--he'd never say that--but he knew how his body looked. Small and damaged and weak. Somehow, he would just stare until Atsushi gave up and find a way to bandage him up without removing this last layer of protection, as impossible as he knew it was.

"I'll rip it off you if I have to," Atsushi said, almost nonchalantly. Then, he sucked in a breath, as if he'd wished he'd never said it all.

Akutagawa thought about this for a very long time, and Atsushi said nothing else in that time. Eventually, the weight of his limbs caused Akutagawa to give in with a shudder, and he shrugged off Rashomon begrudgingly. There were several more oozing cuts than he'd originally thought, but none of them were bleeding to profusely. If it weren't for the obvious anemia, he wouldn't have bothered to stanch it.

He folded his hands in his lap, his skin burning in embarrassment. He felt exposed and stupid and honestly scared and he just wanted to cover back up and pretend--

But Atsushi didn't say anything at all. He just got to work wrapping the bandages around Akutagawa's torso. The latter stared at his head with a mixture of shock and confusion, expecting every moment for something to be said like 'you're so skinny!' or 'you don't look so tough'. But, he never did. Eventually, Akutagawa's mind just went blank as he watched him do it. It was a bit of a rhythmic motion and it stilled his mind.

Atsushi sighed at one point to go get more medical supplies, but otherwise they just sat there in silence, not making eye-contact as one tended to the other.

"There," Atsushi finally said after ten minutes, "I think that's all of them."

He pecked at the bandages, probably looking for anywhere already bleeding through, but Akutagawa didn't give him much of a chance. As soon as he'd said "all" he'd started shoving Rashomon back on. He felt unbelievably relieved to be covered once again. Atsushi hands hovered in the air, like he planned to do something, but recovered eventually. He stood and grabbed the card key. "I'll be right back. Don't fall asleep"

Akutagawa almost said "wait" against his will, but he thankfully bit his tongue just in time. He was being uncharacteristically dependent tonight.  

In the interim, he tried to shuffle the sheets in such a way that he wouldn't be sleeping in his own blood. There wasn't much chance of that, and he was getting more tired just trying. Eventually, he leaned on the side of the bed and just as his eyes were drifting closed...

A hand grasped his shoulder tight. "Ryunosuke!"

Akutagawa jolted, coming out of his sleepy reverie. He hadn't fallen asleep yet, but Atsushi stared at him with his violet eyes wide. His mouth was twisted into a uncertain and horrified expression. Akutagawa stared back almost defiantly, keeping his gaze stone cold, but that was hard to manage as his heart was racing with the use of his given name. He didn't know what had possessed Atsushi to use it, but he hoped it never happened again as it was making him terribly flustered.

After a moment, Atsushi let out a trembling sigh of relief and fell back on his bottom. Akutagawa only noticed now that Atsushi was shaking, probably from adrenaline. "What happened?"

"I thought you'd died."

Akutagawa scoffed. Ever the drama-queen. "It would take a lot more to kill me, man-tiger."

"Yeah..." Atsushi trailed off. He'd been expecting a snarky response in return, but this simple one left Akutagawa feeling strange.

Atsushi held out a grocery bag. "Got some pills for iron deficiency and cashews," he said in explanation, "and tomato juice. Eat up."

Akutagawa scowled and peaked into the bag. "Don't need it." He set the bag aside defiantly.

"If you don't, I'll change your bandages in the morning."

Akutagawa stilled and then opened the bag of cashews. He chewed them with a lot of distaste. Their bitter saltiness didn't please him.

"You need to ask me when you need help..." Atsushi said after a while, "Like it or not, we're a team now."

"No." Akutagawa wasn't sure which part of the statement he was saying 'no' to, but he saw that it stung Atsushi. That didn't sit well with him emotionally, but rationally, he knew he needed to sever this moment of weakness from Atsushi's brain. Being harsh was a very efficient way of doing that.

Atsushi didn't take it lying down, for once. "Yes!" he shot back, "Yes you will, otherwise I'll have to check you over every time we're together because if you die on me..." his angry words paused as if he was searching for what was appropriate to say, "I'll... I'll have the Port Mafia after me and I already have enough trouble!"

The anger had left his voice completely by the time he said 'trouble', but Akutagawa elected to ignore it, not wanting to think about the implications of it all.

He chewed on another cashew and then took the meds with the tomato juice. Atsushi sighed and crawled up onto the bed. "I'm turning on the TV."

"I want to sleep," Akutagawa growled.

"Fat chance. Sleep on the way back."

Atsushi settled on something eventually, and despite all his whining (although he loathed to call it that), Akutagawa snuck glances to it constantly, eventually becoming engaged in the nonsense.

He dragged himself up onto the bed with Atsushi after a lot of hesitance (and a lot of more logical thoughts that told him not to). To his great surprise, once he had, Atsushi grabbed his wrist. Akutagawa heated up almost immediately, completely flushed with embarrassment. He tried to jerk the grip away, but failed. He forgot how strong the man-tiger was sometimes.

"I'm just feeling for your pulse," Atsushi said, but he didn't let go.

[qtyanan]

Gateway || KNK  Chapter 1 - Drunken Encounter

“I’ll never go to one of those parties.”

Word count: ~2.5k

prologue | chapter 2 

"Okay, we're done for the day, you have the rest of the class period to yourself," said my teacher as she waved her hand in a dismissive way. In that very second, everyone in the class pulled out their phone and a low buzz of conversation filled the room.

I pulled out my phone as well, but only for a moment to check for notifications (which i had none of course). I kept my notebook and textbook open, trying to finish as much work as possible so I didn't have to worry about it later.

It was the last class of the day, almost 3 o'clock in the afternoon on a Friday. Everyone around me had already packed their things and were talking about their weekend plans, or making such plans.

And then there was me, sitting in the back of the room with my head low and scribbling away with my pencil. I didn't really have friends in any of my classes, and I liked it that way, because let's be honest, I'm not much of a people person. I mostly just wanted to go home and drink a bottle of wine and binge watch Netflix. I was slightly praying that there wouldn't be a party tonight, because I really wanted to just go home and sleep a lot.

I had finished up the last of the page I was working on and packed my things into my computer bag. After all that, I sat on my phone, looking through different social medias to pass the last few minutes of the class period. Usually the teachers were pretty lenient about class times and would let us leave once they were done, but this old lady was pretty strict and wanted us to stay until exactly 3 o'clock.

I got bored of my phone so I put it down and just picked at my chipping nail polish, and without even thinking of it, I tuned into the conversation going on next to me.

"C'mon man, why won't you go?" A guy said in a slight begging tone, and I turned slightly to see that he was sitting on the table along with a couple other guys, and one guy was sitting in his respectable seat, his head in his hands.

"Ehh... I was planning on staying home tonight so," said the boy sitting in the chair, avoiding eye contact with everyone surrounding him.

"I've been to one of these parties before, they're pretty fun, and the booze is pretty great," another said, causing me to inwardly laugh. Who says booze anymore?

Are they talking about my neighbor's parties? I hope the fuck not. They don't need more people going to those parties!

"Dude, come on! You've been single for a while now. It's time to go out and get laid." One said, causing me to grimace. I thought it was disgusting, using him being single as a reason for him to go to the damn party.

There was silence among them, and I looked in the corner of my eye at the boy they were pestering. His hair was parted neatly down the middle and he had clear, tan skin, cute cheeks and pouty lips. He looked nice, sweet - too sweet to be dragged to one of those parties.

He leaned back in his chair and huffed, "Okay, fine, I'll come tonight," right away the guys cheered, patting on him in encouragement.

Ugh, tonight? I was hoping for a night of silence. I felt bad for the cute kid, but hey, what can I do?

With freezing cold hands and a runny nose, I unlocked my front door and stepped in, a wave of warmth hitting me, making me sigh in relief.

Kira was sitting on the couch with the TV on, but she got up once she heard the front door open.

"I got groceries, help me bring them in," I told her whilst putting my phone on the small table by the door and dropping my computer bag. She didn't say anything, just slipped on her slippers and braced herself for the cold.

We brought in the several bags and set them randomly in the kitchen, recovering from the unforgiving cold that was outside.

As we put away what I had bought in silence, I realized she was still wearing her work shirt. It was a plain, black, collared shirt with a small Starbucks logo. Kira doesn't go to college classes with me, she works full-time at Starbucks that's pretty close to campus. I do too, just part-time. I don't really have to work, I come from a pretty wealthy family and my parents are helping me pay for classes and such, but it's always nice to have some extra money, right?

I tried to figure what to make for dinner, but everything I suggested, Kira rejected.

"Chinese takeout?" I finally suggested, and she smiled at me, nodding slightly, causing me to chuckle.

I was putting away the last of the things, as well as organizing the pantry, and Kira sat on the counter and watched me.

"So," She suddenly broke the silence, "have you heard anything about a party next door?"

"Yeah, I heard some guys talking about it. I think there's gonna be one tonight," I kept my eyes on what I was doing, and she paused a moment before answering.

"... How about we go this time?" I turned to look at her to see if she was joking, but she had a smirk that told me she wasn't bluffing.

"Um, no. I hate those parties. I plan on never going over there." I bluntly rejected her, turning back to the pantry. I finished my organization and closed the door, then leaned against it and looked at Kira.

"Aw, why not? I don't want to just sit here all night, and I haven't done anything in so long." She was vague, but I knew what she meant - she wanted to get laid. I think it's kind of weird, but that's just me. I hadn't had an actual boyfriend in years. So basically, I'm as untouched as a virgin.

I kept my disgust to myself, because she would probably tease me for my innocence, "Then you can go by yourself."

"Oh God, no thanks," She scoffed, making a funny face then jumped off the counter, then looked down at her phone, "So, you want to order food now?"

No more than an hour later, we sat in our dimly lit living room, Chinese takeout boxes littering the coffee table in front of us along with Kira's soda can and my wine glass. I did say I was craving wine, right? Using wine glasses makes me feel fancy, shoot me.

It took us a while to agree on something to watch on Netflix, but eventually we chose to re watch New Girl  for probably the third time.

We didn't say much to each other, just stuffed our faces with food and paid attention to what played on the tv, but then we started to notice the buzz of that horrible techno music. As if that was an alarm, Kira jumped up and picked up her takeout dishes and made her way to the kitchen

"Well, time to sleep," She announced, and I glared in her direction, even though the corner wall had cut her from my vision.

"Seriously??" I looked down at my phone to see the time, "It's not even 10 o'clock!"

"So? I'm tired," She said nonchalantly, thankfully cleaning up after herself. I didn't get up from where I sat, since I was in a little blanket nest with my knees pulled up to my chest.

"Jesus, how do you sleep so much! Teach me your ways!!" I yelled dramatically, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh lightly.

"Whatever. Goodnight," she made a little finger heart towards me and I did the same, muttering a 'ni ni' to her. Once she closed her bedroom door behind her, I reached for the controller and looked through Netflix once again. I chose what I really wanted to watch. I turned the volume down so Kira wouldn't hear the voices speaking in Japanese.

Yeah, I really love anime, but Kira hates it so I don't make her watch it. And she likes to make fun of me when I obsess over it, calls me a nerd.

I may have gotten a little carried away. I had re watched almost all of The Seven Deadly Sins, and drank almost a whole bottle of wine. Because of the small bit of alcohol, I began to get a little sleepy. I had begun to tune out the annoyance coming from next door, aside from the occasional yelling that sometimes startled me.

Are you still watch 'The Seven Deadly Sins?'

Yeah, jerk, I'm still watching it. I don't have a life. fight me.

I reached for the Xbox controller so I could resume the show, sitting in the quiet a moment whilst I waited for the controller to turn on.

But in that tiny bit of quiet, I heard something weird outside. Well, everything I heard was weird, because of that damn party, but what I had just heard was... weird. You know, a different weird. It stood out and I turned my head towards the door.

It was yelling of some kind, but it was closer than everything else, like someone was in front of my house. Usually most people were respectful and stayed away from my house, but this person wandered a little too far I guess.  

But it was a lonely voice, I didn't hear anyone else.

I honestly got really curious as to who was out there and what was going on. So, I finished what was in my glass and left the warmth of my nest, shuffling towards the door and putting on my slippers. I pulled my sweater sleeves over my hands and opened the front door, and saw that there was a flurry of snow in the air.

There he was; in the middle of my yard, tripping around and yelling something I couldn't understand (I'm not even sure if it was in English). I couldn't tell who it was, but it's not like I know a lot of people around here.

"What the hell...?" I mumbled to myself, watching how he wandered alone. I noticed he didn't have a jacket; he just walked around in a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. Jesus, he's gonna freeze to death if he stays out there.

Maybe I should go help him...?

Without thinking it through, I stepped outside and through the grass, treading carefully towards him. In the middle of his weird, random shouting, I think I heard him say a girl's name, but I couldn't be sure.

"Um, h-hey?" I shouted to him to get his attention, and he slowly moved his eyes to me. he stopped walking, stumbled in his stance. "It's really cold, do you want to come inside?"

I couldn't really understand what he said in response, but as I came closer to him and touched his arm, he didn't fight against me, just leaned on my shoulder and allowed me to lead him to my house.

I realized he was much taller than me, and with him relying on me to walk, he was much heavier.

If it wasn't so cold, I would have been sweating. I kicked opened the door in a huff and dragged him to the couch, allowing him to drop onto the upholstery.

I turned the nearby lamp on, and realized - it's that kid from my class today! The one that those guys convinced to go to the party. I didn't know his name, but at least I didn't bring a total stranger into my home.

While looking at him, I noticed his ears and (cute little) nose were bright red, and he was now shivering, his teeth chattering. I rushed around and put a big blanket over him, which he quickly grabbed and cuddled into (which honestly, I found really fucking cute). I went to get a bucket and put plastic bag in it and set it on the floor by his head (because let's face it, throwing up is inevitable). His eyes were barely open and his hair was an absolute mess, little mumbled still falling from his lips. It was very obvious he was wasted, who let this poor child drink so much??

I sat by him to make sure he didn't die or something, and some of his little mumbles were slightly coherent.

"Sophie... Why did you leave me? <hic!> I loved you so much... Why wasn't <hic!> I good enough?... I miss you so much...." His voice was painful to hear, so full of sadness. His lip trembled as he spoke now, and I think I see a little wetness around his eyes.

I didn't really know what to do, but without much thought I scoot a little closer to him and brought my small hand to his cold forehead, soothing his hair away from his face.

As I did the soothing action, his mumbling became quieter, and tears just fell to the couch cushion. Slowly but surely, his skin started to warm up, and he started to stop shivering.

It felt like forever of me just sitting there, but I started to hear little snores and heavier breathing, which made me think he had fallen asleep.

Slowly I moved away, shuffling to the recliner on the other side of the living room.

My first thought was to stay awake until he wakes up, so he doesn't freak out on me. I could at least tell him what had happened and make sure he's okay then he can go home, and then I'll sleep all day.

But then  I had the most intense yawn I've ever had. I looked at my phone, which was almost dead, and saw it was past 3 am.

After that, I don't really remember falling asleep, I slept like a rock.

[redditnosleep]

On The Russian Ice Road, You Always Help Your Fellow Travelers

by TheCityOfS

When people hear my wife’s Russian, they imagine a tall blonde girl with a funny accent who wears heels for every grocery run. Reality couldn’t be farther from the stereotype: Lana is dark haired, speaks better English than I do, and is completely obsessed with sneakers. She does meet ONE stereotype, though: she never gets cold, seeing how she lived in Russia until she was eighteen.

Not in Moscow, of course. Did you know that Moscow’s actually pretty warm? There are entire states in America where winters are far colder than anything Moscovites ever have to deal with. No, my wife comes from a tiny town far up Russian north, on the tundra. A dark, gloomy, and a very cold place inside the Arctic Circle, with extremely harsh winters and even harsher people. A place that meets the stereotypes.

I’ve met my in-laws all of two times including our wedding, both times as they traveled to the States. Frankly, I never had any intention of visiting my Lana’s hometown, until she got that fateful call nine days ago. My mother in law had had a stroke. While her condition was stable for the time being, the local doctor expected the worst could happen at any minute. Transporting her to a better hospital was out of question as she was in no state for the kind of a journey that you’ll see described below.

My wife made travel arrangements immediately. I had a valid Russian visa from a business trip to Moscow a few weeks prior so I decided to go with her. Now, getting to my wife’s hometown isn’t easy. You’re in for a flight to Moscow, then a connecting flight to Norilsk, one of the biggest cities in the Russian tundra. From there, it’s an hour long trip down the Yenisei river, by barge in summer and on cars over ice in the winter.

Urgently getting to Moscow wasn’t that hard. There, however, we faced additional difficulties. First of all, apparently I couldn’t actually fly to Norilsk with Lana as the city was closed to foreigners. Before we could even process that, we were told that Norilsk airport was closed for all aircraft due to poor weather conditions and the weather wasn’t expected to improve that week. I tried to console Lana as best as I could, but news of her mom getting worse drove her crazy. Soon, Lana suggested an “alternative”: it was possible to fly to a city a fair bit south of Norilsk which was safe from the storms. For a modest fee, a family friend living there was willing to take a day’s journey up the ice road to Lana’s hometown. Well, more like a night’s journey since according to him, it was better to travel at night by car’s lights than by what passed as daylight.

I told my wife she was insane. She, however, was adamant on her plan, saying she’s done zimnik (how Russians call their ice roads) many times with her dad and it was perfectly safe. She wouldn’t budge no matter how I pleaded and told me I was welcome to stay in Moscow. Obviously, that was not an option, and in the end I gave up.

We flew to our next destination, and the cold hit me as soon as I stepped out of the plane. It was a different kind of cold, invasive and ruthless, and it didn’t care about layers of sweaters and socks I had on. I shivered imagining how much colder it was going to get.

We met with the trucker who was to take us up North. He called himself Kolya, and my wife “Sveta”, the Russian version of her name. Me, he didn’t call at all, instead referring to me derisively as “Mister Amerikashka” whenever he spoke to my wife. Lana told me with a chuckle she didn’t tell Kolya I could understand Russian, although I don’t think he would’ve cared.

Kolya was supposed to be a few years younger than my wife but looked much older, his skin and posture worn down by the harsh conditions of his homeland. He laughed at our American shoes and coats and said he would pack extra jackets, woolen socks and valenki for us “just in case.” His brother helped load his truck, which looked like it had seen the fall of the Soviet Union, and then Kolya sat down to enjoy a shot of vodka. One for the road.

My wife saw me blanch at that.

“This isn’t New York, or even Moscow,” she said quietly. “People here are a bit behind in terms of DUI. Don’t worry, he won’t drink enough to get impaired, he’s seen that kill people on the road.”

Well.

Indeed, the first shot was the last and Kolya hopped into the truck. He offered my wife the shotgun seat which, as far as I understood Russian macho culture, was basically equivalent of throwing a glove in my face. Whatever. As long as he got us there.

The road was a dark stretch of ice and packed snow powdered by the fresh snow that had fallen that morning. Snowdrifts bordered both sides of the roads and leaked onto its surface a fair bit. Otherwise, it was the same barren flat surface for miles. In the first couple of hours, we saw a few cars going the opposite way to us. Then a car going in the same direction as us overtook us and disappeared in the darkness ahead at surprising speeds. It was a freaking tiny, rusted-through Subaru. I gave up on understanding Russians then and there.

Shortly after the Subaru guy, it started snowing. Just a bit at first, then more and more. Kolya didn’t seem bothered and I tried to stay calm as well, which I managed mostly successfully until the wind joined in. Unlike the snow, it started hard from the get go.

Have you ever heard wind howling and become unsettled by the sound? Now imagine the same, but in the depths of a black night lit only by your car’s headlights. Except for your own vehicle, the world around is silent and devoid of life, frozen until the spring. Not that you can see much through the thick snow that is now the wind’s plaything, flurrying around the car, blanketing the windows.

Our pace slowed to a crawl as Kolya swore colorfully in Russian. “Maybe stop and wait it out?” I suggested nervously.

“We can’t.” Lana said without bothering to ask our driver. “If we stop there’s a good chance the car won’t start up again, and we are stuck here waiting for someone to pick us up. And it’s been… empty today.”

The realization we were at a very real risk of freezing to death hit me like a ton of bricks. I leaned back into my seat and closed my eyes, wordlessly praying for the best. The only response was the wind howling – and it sounded so strange. It would start low and quiet and then get louder and louder until a yowling crescendo, then cut off abruptly. Then start again. And the sound came from different directions, each starting at a different time, like a pack of wolves howling.

I opened my eyes to obvious tension in the car. Lana and Kolya were both hunched forward, peering intently through the glass for all the good it did them. Kolya glanced back at me.

“Don’t worry, be happy!” Kolya proclaimed with a horrible Russian accent. “It is all OK! Don’t worry, America!”

He was lying. I might have been useless on the ice road, but I was a criminal defense lawyer, and a good one at that. And Kolya was a bad liar. There was sweat beading on his face and neck, and his voice was forced. He was very much scared – and that made me scared, too.

Kolya murmured something to my wife, too quick and quiet for my distracted mind to decipher. She nodded.

“What was that?”

“There’s a village maybe half an hour up the road, if we keep this pace. We get there and settle down until the morning.”

“I see. Sorry about the delay.” In reality I was extremely happy to hear that. “Bad wind, huh?”

Lana grabbed my hand, quick and sudden as a snake. “Don’t. Mention. The Wind.”

Another sound came through the storm. A long, tinny wail that sent shivers down my spine. It took me a few moments to recognize the familiar sound of the wind whistling through walls and chimney. And then another moment to realize there were no fucking walls around for the wind to whistle.

I opened my mouth to comment, and my wife’s grip tightened on my arm. In that moment, I knew to keep it quiet.

We drove in tension-filled silence as a cacophony of sounds erupted through the storm. Wails and shrieks, howls and cries – no way no fucking wind was producing all of that.

The sounds grew closer, grew louder. I grabbed my wife’s hands as we both stared desperately ahead. Through the flurry, we barely made out something – a large, dark shape reflecting our lights, or maybe piercing the darkness with lights of its own…

Kolya swore and swerved to the side. We were passing another car stuck in the snow. Its blinkers flashed.

“Stop.” Lana said, sudden and harsh.

“What?” Kolya asked, in Russian. “You insane?”

“Stop.” My wife repeated. “On the ice road, you help. That’s the rule, remember?”

Kolya gave her a long, hard look that I didn’t like at all. “That’s the rule on the road.” He echoed, and hit the brakes, slowing the car without actually stopping. I opened the door and peered outside. The driver of the stuck vehicle was already running towards us. I recognized the car itself as the Subaru that passed us earlier.

“Thank God you people were…” the driver began. “Get in, idiot!” Kolya shouted, and the guy shut up and jumped in. He was just a kid, no older than twenty, with dark red hair and a patchy little beard. He looked cold and terrified.

“Thank god!” He repeated, in a hushed whisper. “I was sure they’d get me.”

“They?” I asked, confused. Kolya and Lana turned to look at the kid in unison, and their looks could kill.

“They, yeah, I mean the wind and snow,” the kid corrected quickly. I had a sudden abrupt feeling that it was too late for that… even as I still had no clue what was going on. We drove on, and the interplay of howls and shrieks outside the car became unbearable in the silence.

“What’s your name, dude?” I asked him in my best Russian. He blinked.

“Sergei. Sergei Molchanov. My parents are… anyway, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have been driving, but I wanted to make it to my girlfriend’s birthday, and…”

“Both of you shut up.” My wife barked, and we did. Immediately I noticed the change in surrounding sounds – they were much louder now. The highest pitch shrieks rang in my ears. The low, insistent howling seemed to surround the car. And every now and then, something that sounded like an actual roar cut through the night.

The car picked up the pace. I looked at Kolya and realized he was absolutely flooring the gas pedal, poor visibility be damned. His truck was lurching along as fast as it could manage in the conditions, and yet the encroaching racket made it obvious we were nowhere near fast enough.

Then the car hit something. We were all jerked forward as the truck came to a staggering halt. I hit my temple hard on the back of my wife’s seat.

“What… was that?” I groaned.

“Must have hit a chunk of ice or something,” Lana's voice sounded strangely muffled. I remember focusing on her lips, and how pale and thin they looked. The dull resounding pain in my head exploded into something hot and overwhelming, and I collapsed into the backseat.

“He’s passed out!” Sergei called out. I wanted to correct him, but my voice wouldn’t obey me. My lids seemed to weigh a ton each – I could barely open my eyes enough to see the trio of Russians huddled together, the car’s flickering light illuminating their pale faces.

“What now?” Sergei asked nervously.

“Well, let’s see,” I don’t think I would’ve been able to understand complex Russian in that state, if it wasn’t my Lana speaking, her voice so familiar down to every inflection. “Why don’t you go out and check what we hit and if we can clear it out somehow?”

“What?!”

“We helped you, didn’t we?” In the car’s light, Lana’s green eyes seemed very blue. “So why don’t you help us back. After all, on the ice road you help each other. That’s the rule.”

Kolya grumbled in agreement. Then he reached over and pulled out a rifle, and aimed it at the boy.

Sergei whimpered. “You know they’re out there!”

“Well,” Lana’s voice was impeccably calm. Cold. “I guess you’d better not speak about them out loud, then. Better not even think about them, really. ”

My eyes closed against my will. I heard a door swing open, and a rush of cold air. Finally, I passed out for real, and in my unconsciousness I dreamed of horrified screaming and a single terrible roar that filled the night.

I came to during the day, on a couch of some local family that agreed to house us for a bit of cash. My wife fussed over me. Once she was sure I was conscious and lucid, she rushed me into the car saying we could do the rest of the drive by day, and an actual doctor could look at me in her hometown.

I settled in the backseat of the car. Vague memories haunted me.

“Where’s the kid? Sergei?”

“What kid, darling?” Lana asked, in sincere surprise.

“There was no kid, we traveled alone,” Kolya added, in Russian. And I wondered how he knew what I was asking about, or that I’d understand his answer. But aloud, I could only say: “This young redheaded guy…”

“Sweetie, I’m getting really worried. You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought. We gotta get you checked out as soon as we get back to the States. Maybe even a good checkup in Moscow…”

I didn’t really know what to say after that.

We made it the rest of the way uneventfully. Unfortunately, my mother in law had slipped into unconsciousness before we even set out for our drive, and she passed away several hours after our arrival. Lana didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye. She is absolutely devastated right now, so I’m trying my best to focus on comforting her. We’re staying here until the funeral, and I can’t stay I’m looking forward to the ride back.

My father in law graciously gifted me a proper Russian winter coat, so I went ahead and packed my American camel coat that proved terribly insufficient for the weather. As I was folding it, I noticed a few curly red hairs stuck to the light beige fabric.

And I felt so cold.

[rosey-writes]

Blood in the Waste: Chapter 1: Welcome to East Port

Being an Omega was hard. Really fucking hard. You were attacked from all fronts, from highers in the pecking order trying to push you down, and the lowers trying to keep you there to stop you from stirring up shit and making things even worse.

Being an Omega in regular circumstances, even in the most liberal of Oasi was hard.

But being an Omega Outlaw? That was a new level of danger, and Eliot savored every moment of it.

It was hard to believe how far he’d come in a handful of years, going from the stumbling, stuttering fool, baring his neck the moment an Alpha growled to the hunter of the Waste. But he’d grown smarter, stronger now, strong enough to hold his own.

But, he didn’t have to. “You promised you’d get me that collar,” Fiyero whined, holding onto his arm. Though he’d never admit it, he found it almost funny how Fiyero clung to him, whimpered on his shoulder like a begging child despite being a full head taller than him.

In all fairness, he didn’t know anyone who wasn’t at least a head taller than him.

“It takes time to get it here, Fi.” Eliot kept his hand wrapped tight around Bambi’s reign. She was a good horse, entirely cybernetic, dark brown streaks under the silver chrome, solar powered, and folded into a cube for easy storage with the push of a button. Sweetest thing. “We ordered the collar, it’ll be ready when it’s ready.”

“But I want it now!”

“Fiyero, it’s in China, what do you want me to do, drill through the earth to get it?” Oh no. That was a mistake.

“Really? Please, please, please.” God, Fiyero’s eyes were what always got him, what got him the first time he saw them, wide and green and wild, burning with greek fire underneath, someone putting an emerald to flame, intensity only matched by the red of his hair. “I’ll give you that massage you like~”

“I can’t bend time and spa- wait, really? With the oils and everything?”

“Mhm!”

“...I’ll drop by Lin, see what I can do.”

“You’re the best.” Leaning in, Fiyero pecked his cheek and pat it. “I’m gonna go for a...walk-” translate, pickpocketing and sex- “meet you at the fountain in an hour?”

“Alright, be careful.” He sighed, grabbing his wrist just before he went. “And no arson.”

“Of course not! What do you take me for, an addict?”

The brothel was going to be up in flames by noon.

Shaking his head, he tugged Bambi’s reigns and off down the street they walked. Sure, he could fold her up, but she always liked being out.

East Port was a big, straddling the line between Oasis and Town. One of the few places left on what little water hadn't blown the hell, it was the best, and practically only, way to get anything from the East. And, because it was run by the East, they followed Eastern law.

So as long as you stayed away from the tourist part of East Port, you didn’t have to worry too much about Alpha dickery.

Finally, he reached the spot, sign in scribbled mandarin swinging overhead, written in small characters underneath the words Heron Nest: East Port. Shoulders relaxing, he looked up to Bambi, going to his toes to kiss her between the eyes. “Sorry, girl, I’ll change you back soon, alright?”

She whined.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. I have to, or you’ll get stolen by some stupid heavy Alpha.”

With a loud huff, she nuzzled his side.

“No, you can’t come in.” He scratched behind her ears. “I won’t even be in five minutes.”

Looking away, she stomped, but stayed still as he pressed the button on her coat, letting her fold up into a small figurine, perfectly still in his hand. God, he forgets she’s a robot sometimes. Then again, she was more human than most of the people he knew, though, that didn’t mean much.

Finally, he pushed open the door, goosebumps rising from the gush of cold. Air conditioning. It was a luxury few had out in the Waste, hell, one few in the Oasi had, but he wouldn’t expect any less from his favorite pirate queen.

Speaking of which-

“Hai, Lin.”

There she was, in full 5’4 glory, black hair tucked into her three blossom cap, gold hoops swinging down from her ears, dress scraping the top of her knee-high black boots, pinched at the hip. It looked nice and all, but he knew every aspect of that outfit was made for one purpose; to kill. 

Her smiled faded to narrowed eyes in a flash, hopping from her perch on the countertop. “Will you ever not make that pun?”

He smiled. “It’s too easy not to.”

“Hello, Swift.” Sighing, she leaned across the counter, eyes narrowed. “Give me a reason I shouldn’t kick you out ‘fore the sheriff comes sniffing.”

“The sheriff wouldn’t come in here and you know it.” He leaned on the opposite side of the counter, glancing at that small hooked nose, broken from so many battles, from the corner of his eye. “East Port even got one?”

“Not normally, no.” She sighed, blowing one of the few strands to escape the bun tucked into the cap. “But we’ve got some wolves visiting from Stark.”

“Stark?” It was his turn for his eyes to narrow. “What’re Starkmen doing here?”

“Starkweathers, actually.”

Fuck. He felt his blood go cold, as he looked to the door. “Shit.”

“Don’t think they’re here for you.” She shrugged, as she reached under the counter. “You gonna to buy something or what?”

The shop was filled to the brim with luxuries large and small, almost all of them in the form of scents, spices and water. Most of which were damn near impossible to find outside of Haven in the West, but supposedly were in high supply in the East, thanks to what used to be Australia still having trees. Not that he’d know for sure, he’d never been there, rumors were dodgy at best, and Lin took every opportunity to fuck with him possible.

“Wanted to see if I could...expedite, that order I sent, for that collar.”

“...the fuck you want me to do? It’s not even scheduled to ship til next month.”

“For an old friend?”

“For a dead dog.”

Of course. “Come on, I’m just asking when you take back the Bitterbird, you bring along a tiny extra box of cargo.”

“Westerns, think everything’s about you.” Sighing, she pulled out a small black notebook, finger moving across the page. “Heading by Valoria anytime soon?”

“Can be.” It’d be a hell of a detour. They were going to stay at East Port for a couple days, hit Compita before making their way up to La Vida for some sex, cards, and a fuckload of alcohol. Valoria was in the exact opposite direction. “For what?”

“Some fleabags thought It’d be funny to harass some of my flock.” Her eyes were stormy beneath the brown, he could see the black waves crashing against shore. Someone was getting fucked up. “Said they were ‘tempting the officers’ or some bullshit, they were an Omega Siege, kept them for days before they snuck out. I’d send one of mine, but most of my flock are back at Xīgǎng-” from the little bit of Mandarin he’d learned, it just meant West Port, the East version of East Port...if that made sense. Fuck, why couldn’t they have split the world North/South with that trea- actually, last time they did that things didn’t work out great for his people, so, East/West was probably fine. Anyway- “loading the new shipment. Few that aren’t are dealing with some Sydney ships that got cocky and attacked Blackbird.”

Eliot had no idea what ship Blackbird was, but since all of the Heron Fleet’s boats were named after birds, he was just going to assume it was one of them.

“What about you? You could take some Alphas on in a second.”

“Someone’s got to run the business.” She gestured to the ‘nest’. They had one in a bunch of major ports, and an entire port to themselves on the East side of the world, uncreatively called Heron’s Nest. Basically warehouses, where, if you knew what you were getting into, you could buy stuff without paying the middleman fee they charge at those kitschy ‘Asian Ware’ shops that haven’t caught on to the fact ‘Asia’ isn’t even half of the East anymore, it’s got in parts of- what used to be- Africa, Australia, India. They got everything east of around what used to be Turkey. Europe would’ve been a good marking point, but, Europe was now underwater so that didn’t help much.  

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “So, what’s your price, exactly? Track the dogs who did it?”

“No. Burn down the sheriff's office, teach them a lesson.”

Scoffing, he crossed his arms. “That’s an awful lot of work for some speed shipping.”

“I’ll throw in a rose charm when it comes in.”

It wasn’t too far a ride, only half a day. Maybe help Fiyero get some arson out of his system before he’s covered in flammable alcohol...yeah. Best do that.

“I swear.” He reached out his hand. “That boy’ll be the end of me.”

She laughed, shaking it in a firm grip. “It’s your anniversary, isn’t it?”

“Yep, another whole year he hasn’t burned me alive.”

“Yay for small miracles.” Reaching into the back cabinet she pulled out a long, blood-red bottle of chardonnay. “Here, on the house.”

“...really?”

“No. But I’ll give you a discount; 3 Red.”

Of course. Grumbling, he pulled the poker chips from his pocket. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”

“I’d be offended, but you’re one all the time.”

Literally anyone else that would have earned a knife to the throat. But, with Lin, he knew it was just a joke. Not that he was scared of her or anything...beyond reasonable levels. As reasonable as someone one can be when the person in front of them’s weapon of choice was talons. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the neck of the bottle. “Keep on squaking, birdie. See if that gets a little dove under your-” He artfully dodged under the thrown gemstone.

“That was rude and you know it.”

“Yeah. Have you met me?”

“You little...wait.” Her head perked up. “Do you smell that?”

“What?”

“Smoke.”

Their eyes locked. And in that moment, two minds became one, in a flurried shout. “Fiyero!”

[milothebastardman]

Hi! if you're still accepting radmond requests, maybe do something where raymond does something so sweet and romantic that rad just goes all speechless?? Thank you for accepting requests, and have a lovely day!!

(Of course Anon! I’ll always take requests, especially those of the Radmond nature. of course, it might take me a whole day to actually reply but)

Rad wasn’t the type to ever fall silent or be at a loss for words, even when others would be. He always had something to say, some little quip to add so he could provide a bit of comedic relief. Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be caught with anything to say. He was a cool guy, sure, but he was still a person. And hey, sometimes people just don’t know what to say, you know? Still, for the most part, Rad wasn’t the kind of guy to ever stop talking. Enid and KO knew this about him very well, though the two had entirely different opinions on that aspect of Rad’s personality.

While Enid would roll her eyes, sigh dramatically, and make a big show of not paying attention to Rad, KO was the opposite. He’d follow Rad around the store like a tiny puppy, listening intently to whatever tall tale the alien happened to be spinning at that moment. Yes, Rad was much more familiar with leaving someone speechless, whether it was out of exasperation or awe. In fact, he was so used to being the one to leave others speechless, he’d practically forgotten how it felt to have his brain turn to mush and his tongue tie into several complicated knots. That is, until one slow Monday morning…

As everything else he did, Raymond entered the little shop with a flourish and air of confidence. Enid was quite accustomed to the bold entrances and simply told KO to fetch the broom and dustpan so he could clean up the fragrant flower petals that were now scattered across the floor. Rad poked his head up from behind a shelf, a huge grin spreading across his face at the sight of his beloved boyfriend. The two had been dating for almost a year now and had fallen into a very comfortable routine. Raymond would stop by the store just before Rad went on break, always insisting that he needed something from the back of the store.

Of course, Rad was more than happy to assist his boyfriend and would lead him to the back so he could find whatever product he claimed to need today. Most of the time, KO would let out a happy sigh and comment on how sweet Rad was to spend his break helping Raymond find something obscure, and Enid would have to stifle a snicker because she knew what they were really doing in the back room. She was far from nosy of course, but she’d “accidentally” walked in on them making out one time when her curiosity got the better of her. Honestly, she would’ve made fun of Rad relentlessly if it weren’t for the fact that he was basically being paid to smooch his boyfriend. It was a thought she kept filed away in her head, just in case she ever got herself a girlfriend.

As Rad led Raymond into the back room, Enid couldn’t help but notice the carefully wrapped gift Raymond was hiding behind his back. She thought about spying on them just to see what it was, then decided that her chair was just too comfortable to leave it now. She buried her nose back in some trashy magazine, quickly becoming reabsorbed in other heroes dirty laundry. Rad chattered on loudly about the product Raymond was looking for, taking a quick second to look around for Mr. Gar before he clocked out. The second he’d done so, he found himself being pulled into the back room by an overexcited robot.

Before he could make some dumb joke, Raymond had him weak in the knees with one of his breath-stealing kisses. The first minute or five of his break passed them by quickly, kisses and sappy words being exchanged in hushed, gentle tones. Finally, Raymond managed to pull himself away from his lovely alien long enough to hand over the gift. Rad cocked an eyebrow at him, holding the present in his hands carefully.

“Dude, I know I’m really bad with dates and all, but I’m pretty sure our anniversary isn’t for another 12 days.”, he commented, absentmindedly fiddling with the blue ribbon tied around the present. His eyes widened almost comically, and he checked the date on his phone. “It isn’t today, right? Because I don’t have my gift with me and my break isn’t long enough to run home to get it-”, he started, cutting himself off when Raymond started giggling at him. He huffed, rolling his eyes as he gave him a very intimidating glare. It most definitely wasn’t a pout, no siree Bob!

“My darling, you haven’t forgotten our anniversary. It is in 12 days, I’ll just be out of town with Mr. Boxdad on a mission that day, so I don’t know if I’ll be back in time to give you the present.”, Raymond explained, nonchalantly carding a hand through his hair. “Well, that and I just couldn’t stand waiting around to give it to you.”, he added, grinning slyly. Rad’s eyes narrowed as he examined the gift closely, half convinced that it was some sort of joke gift. The packaging seemed too pretty for a joke gift though, and it really would’ve been a waste of ribbon and paper to get him something he couldn’t have liked.

“Oh come now darling, please tell me you’ll open it now? I really want to see how you like it!”, Raymond begged, going all out as he clasped his hands together as if praying to a god for mercy. Rad just sighed and ruffled his hair, a little smile pulling at his lips when Raymond made an indignant squawking sound. “How rude! I’ll have you know I spent over an hour with two cans of hair spray just to get that look!”, he spluttered, managing to look almost mad for about 0.2 seconds. In his defense, it’s hard to still look angry when a lovely alien man is kissing sweetly. By the time Rad pulled away, his drama queen of a robot was red in the face and much more content looking than before.

“No need to beg, baby, I’ll open the present. I swear though, it better be PG! I do not need KO finding something weird…”, Rad grumbled, fiddling with the ribbon for a moment before he managed to get it off. While normally the type to just tear into a present like a child on Christmas morning, he took his time in carefully peeling the wrapping paper off. He internally insisted that it was to tease his boyfriend, though Enid would externally insist that it was because he didn’t want to mess up the great job Raymond had done at wrapping the present. The paper slowly fell to the floor in one big piece, and Rad was left staring down at a small, velvet box in confusion.

“… If this is a ring…”, he threatened quietly, looking up to see a carefully poised poker face on his favorite robot. With shaking fingers, Rad opened the tiny box and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. It wasn’t a ring, thank god, he wouldn’t have been able to handle that at all. Instead, it was two intricate necklaces. Raymond watched him closely, feeling doubt creeping into his mechanical heart as the silence grew tense. Before he could ask if he had messed up, or maybe gone too far, he was enveloped in the tightest, warmest hug he’d ever felt. It took him a moment to register that, but the moment it did register in his brain he was hugging Rad back as tightly as he was able to.

“I take it that my research paid off?”, he asked quietly, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face. Rad just nodded against him, the closest thing to a verbal response being the tiny sniffle he let out. Raymond slowly pulled away, surprised by the watery look in his boyfriend’s eyes and the wobbly smile he wore. Without having to speak, Rad turned around so that he could fasten the necklace into place. The chain was made up of a simple silver, nothing really flashy considering who had made it. The pendant, though, was where all the work had been done. The swirls of green and subtle tinge of black popped nicely against Rad’s blue cut off, but didn’t come off as gaudy or tacky.

Once the necklace was fastened into place, Raymond and Rad switched places so the other necklace could be put on. It had taken Raymond several tries to get the shade of turquoise just right, but it had been worth absolutely every hour he’d spent making the pendant. It fell into place against his chest easily, though it took Rad a little longer to get the chain fastened since his fingers kept shaking. Still, he managed to get it done and turned his boyfriend around to give him another kiss. This one lingered, somehow managing to express the flurry of emotions Rad was feeling but couldn’t put into words just yet. They finally broke apart, both wearing satisfied grins and cheesy necklaces.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go so long without speaking, darling. Cat got your tongue?”, Raymond teased, still a bit breathless from the kiss. Rad rolled his eyes, though the smile on his lips betrayed his lack of annoyance at the question.

“Nope! My big, cheesy boyfriend does.”, he joked back, glad to finally remember English again. He couldn’t help but rub the pendant lightly, still feeling all warm and fuzzy from the implications it carried. It seemed that Raymond had really done his alien homework, and had gotten everything right with this gift, down to the simple chain. “You know what this means, right? I’m going to have to make you something so amazing that you’ll be the one speechless next time!”, he exclaimed, already getting that fiery look in his eyes.

“Well, I have a few ideas on what you could do to leave me speechless, darling…”, Raymond began, smirking slightly at his adorable little alien. Before Rad could do or say anything in response, though, KO burst into the room.

“Raymond! Rad! I thought you two had gotten lost or something back here while looking for the Lightning Gum!”, he yelled, clambering over a couple cardboard boxes before he reached them both. “Oh, that reminds me! I found a pack out in the front, it was hidden behind the Super Sonic Socks!”, he added, holding the pack of gum out triumphantly. Rad had to muffle his giggles as Raymond took the gum, giving the little tyke a pat on the head.

“Why, thank you ever so much KO! I’ll let Mr. Boxdad know that you were a very big help to me today.”, Raymond replied, grinning down at the proud looking boy. “Alright now, little hero, why don’t you make sure nobody else needs help up front. Rad and I-”, he began, blinking a couple times in surprise when KO interrupted. Frankly, he should be used to this by now…

“Rad! You gotta hurry back to the front, actually. Mr. Gar’s looking for you, and he seems super disappointed!”, KO interjected, giving Rad a big push towards the door. Well, the biggest push he could manage considering how small he was and how much taller Rad was than him. “C'mon, you gotta move!”, he whined, giving his favorite not-brother big puppy eyes. Rad let out a long, exaggerated sigh, and gave Raymond one last peck on the lips before he dashed off to the front. The robot waved goodbye at him, then looked down when he felt KO tugging at his arm.

“Yes, little hero? What seems to be the problem?”, he asked, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the 6 to 11-year-old. KO still had his big, innocent eyes going, and Raymond prepared himself for the normal slew of questions he always seemed to have.

“Is Rad pregnant now?”, he asked casually as if the subject were as nonchalant as discussing the weather or talking about the price of Super Sonic Socks.

“… RAAAAAD!”, KO yelled a moment later, panicking since Raymond seemed to have short-circuited. Later on that night, after several minutes of laughing, Carol had to explain to him that no, you didn’t get pregnant by kissing someone. Rad decided to never let the moment go since he was pretty sure being caught speechless was way less embarrassing than fainting over a little question.

(whoops I got a little carried away Anon, I hope you still really enjoy this though because I had way too much fun writing this.)