#because I’m not adding to my fatigue by standing for hours- especially in the heat

[spacemancharisma]

was completely burnt out from work but hauled my ass to the ajj concert anyway and I’m so fucking glad I did oh my god I’m so excited

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 1

It was now reaching the hour of at least 3 in the morning in Japan and you still hadn’t finished your paper proposal that you have been working on for hours on end. It certainly didn’t help that it was weeks overdue with only a few days until the end of the semester for your college courses back in America. 

You’re an American based student attending U.A. High, but also completing your bachelor’s degree at a college back in the states. Highly intelligent, as you were a member of Class 3-A and still in high school but only have one more semester until you finish your B.A. in English, about the same time you would graduate high school. Unfortunately, the time difference between the US and Japan has screwed with you reaching deadlines and a symptom of overusing your quirk is a lack of focus, something that you didn’t even tell your homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa. You were determined this was something you could do on your own.

Lately, you’ve been feeling like you have something to prove, almost like you’re somehow less than your peers as if your quirk wasn’t as useful or not powerful enough. As if your instant ability to feel empathy and affect emotions as well as being trained in formal combat in a similar fashion to Aizawa and his scarf. In fact, he was the one who worked with you and trained you with it. 

None the less you still felt like you were on your own with this and felt like you had to overdo yourself in training exercising. Quite frankly, you were on the serious verge of burn out, you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in your bed and watch a little TV after a nice hot shower. But non the less you had to push those desires aside to finish your college semester out strong.

You take another drink of your contraband energy drink, as a student at esteemed high school U.A. things like those were highly frowned upon as they were enhancing your energy to perform due to their abnormal amount of caffeine. Right now, you didn’t give a damn, you were going to be up all night and had early morning training with Aizawa and you are exhausted either way. Just trying to pull these long nights to finish on time. The dark circles were aware to you and your sluggish movements during the day meant a lot more effort on your quirk.

The door to your dorm room was still open allowing light from the outside room to shine into your room as well as your small little desk lamp providing you with a little bit of light for you to write and research on your laptop. You had a light but warm blanket wrapped around you as you were cold and it was around you very similarly to Aizawa’s sleeping bag come to think about it. You were generally cold a greater portion of the time but this felt a little different than normal, you were starting to become congested, never a good sign.

You sighed as you dropped your pencil on your papers and took your hands and rubbed your face and sat there for a moment just resting them there. You could hear footsteps down the hall and took it as someone getting up to go to the kitchens for something, it was an often occurrence. It did slip your mind that teachers would take shifts to do monitoring at different times in the night just taking a stroll down the hallways making sure everything was alright. Honestly, most teachers just slacked on it most of the time so it wasn’t a regular thing. It didn’t really dawn on you that the footsteps were getting closer to your room and the kitchen was the opposite direction. 

Usually, hallway patrols took around 10 minutes for teachers to complete which is why they were skipped so often, but Aizawa actually decided to do his tonight. And to his surprise, he saw one door open compared to the rest closed. His first thought was thinking about what was wrong and quickened his pace. But when he reached your door he couldn’t help but examine your hunched over posture wrapped in your blanket and head in hands, surrounded by loose papers, post its, pens, books, and laptop.

He knew you had a little extra course load normally but he didn’t realize it was something you would be doing well into the night, he just figured you were about to balance everything extremely well as you never complained and usually performed well in classes. However, thinking back to the last week you have seemed a little more tired and in a daze resulting in more quirk effort. The overuse of quirks segment of your student file was blank and he never made the effort to find out. 

He continued to stand at your door for another minute and saw the can of energy drink beside you knowing you were a good kid and wouldn’t resort to something as foolish as that without it being a last resort. Aizawa briefly knocked on your door to alert you of his presence. He did have a soft spot for you compared to Midoria or Bakoguo so he was a little more gentle with you.

“Hey kid, what are you still doing up?”

Startled out your state you did a small jump in your desk chair, “Just trying to write this essay. It’s a few weeks overdue and the end of the semester is soon so I need to get this in.”

He took a few steps into your room and stood behind you, “12th-century convents and monasteries in Italy. Hmm, that doesn’t sound very interesting. What kind of class is this for?”

“It’s for my Origins of western though class, medieval through the renaissance. And trust me, it really isn’t, especially when you can’t focus on it at all,” you replied.

“You’re having trouble focusing?” he asked genuinely concerned, he had never heard those words come from you before.

You put your face back in your hands and simply said, “Quirk overuse.”

Aizawa was taken aback for a short moment, you were never one to complain or let someone know when there was something going on, “God kid how long has this been going on?”

“This time? At least since last week.”

“This time? So this isn’t something new?” he was a little shocked since this was the first time he heard of any of your overuse symptoms. 

“God no, there’s also an extra degree of fatigue and the occasional headache. Night terrors are kinda common too.”

“Shit Y\N why have you never mentioned this before?”

“It just never seemed to be all that important really, I’ve handled it by myself for years why start before now?”

“When was the last time you got a decent nights sleep, you’re starting to look like me. You’ve even got the whole blanket thing going for you,” he asked looking at your form sitting at your desk as you shifted in your seat to look at him.

“Uh, you know, that’s a really good question and it’s been long enough that I can’t fully remember. To be truthful, I just want to finish this so I can take a warm shower and go to sleep.”

When you looked at him he got a better look at you. To be truthful you looked horrible and he started to feel bad because it was evident you were working yourself to death, and keeping up with both school lives on top of his added one-on-one training sessions were taking a toll on you. He had also noticed the congestion in your voice, that was never a good sign.

He put his hand on your forehead and you leaned into even though it felt cold to you it still felt nice, “Kid you’re burning up, you have a fever, why don’t you stop for the night and get that shower you want and you can crash on my couch tonight so I can keep an eye on you.”

“With all due respect sir, I need to finish this, my professor has been on me for weeks on end on this. I have to finish it tonight. And I couldn’t possibly bother you with just congestion and small fever.”

Aizawa sighed and took a seat on the edge of your still made bed, “Listen, kid, I’ll let you finish. I'm going to sit here until you're done and you’re coming with me.”

You put your head down as you knew there was no way out of this one. He took a book off your nightstand and began reading it as you continue your work. It took you about 2 more hours and he had managed to doze off wait for you. You look back at him sleeping quietly and simply close your laptop for the night and lay your head down and close your eyes for just a second truthfully, you felt horrible. In the absence of your typing, Aizawa woke up and saw you with your head down and got up and put a hand on your shoulder feeling the elevated body heat from your fever radiating through you. 

He quietly sighed and in his general monotone voice said, “Come on kiddo let’s go, grab some comfy clothes and you can shower back at my room.”

You compiled and went to stand up but immediately the word was spinning and you had to grab onto the desk to steady yourself. He had immediately put a hand around your waist and only your shoulder not wanting you to fall in your sick weakened state.

“Okay, new plan, We’re going straight to my room, I’ll just give you some clothes and you can take a sitting down shower. I don’t want you to exert any more energy and risk you falling and hurting yourself, so I’m going to carry you, is that okay?”

You gave a small nod and he put one arm under your knees and one on your mid-back and you put your arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest feeling small. And quite truthfully, Aizawa did notice you were a little nighter and a little bonier than he expected before, almost as if you had been skipping meals.

Walking with you down the hallway still wrapped in your blanket ha=e quietly asked, “Kid I need you to be honest with me, are you eating?”

You give a small groan in response, “I accidentally forgot for a few days I’ve just been too busy and didn’t realize.”

Aizawa sighed and realized how work-oriented you are, stopping for nothing and not accomplishing things for your health, “I’ll make you some soup while you’re in the shower okay, then will you please eat a little bit of it?”

You simply nodded your head in his chest resulting in a lack of verbal response.

Once making it back to his living quarters he opened the door and was greeted by a cat waiting for him to get back. He closed the door behind both of you and took you to the bathroom and sat you down on the toilet and told you to undress and take a shower, and he would leave clothes and some towels for you in a bit. 

As you did that and carefully sat down at the bottom of the shower and turned the water on you immediately felt the warm water hitting your skin rinsing some of the sick away and you let out a small cough, which didn’t go unnoticed by your teacher leaving a pair of black sweatpants and a charcoal grey sweater that will be much too large for you but are clean clothes you should find comfortable.

[half-bakedboy]

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “I’ve recently found myself with a lot of time on my hands and since you don’t seem to have enough to romance someone,” Buck began, settling his drink on the table, “I think it only makes sense for someone to romance you.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh and shot back, “Yeah, and how are you going to find someone willing to put in that effort?”

“Oh, you’re lookin’ at him.”

Or… Eddie gets the romance he deserves in the form of fluff-filled dates with Buck.

For @911fluffweek - day seven: Free choice // Love confession

(read the final chapter on ao3 or start from the beginning)

The morning had sucked, to put it frankly. Eddie woke up late, sleeping through his alarm for the first time in years, and when he had barged through Christopher’s door, his son was anything but compliant. He took his sweet time getting out of bed, refused to brush his teeth or hair, and changed his outfit too many times for Eddie to count. By the time Eddie had gotten him in the car, they were going to be late to school and he didn’t even have time to call them and let them know. 

He didn’t need the speech he got when he dropped Christopher off after the first bell and he didn’t need the sympathetic but still judgmental gazes of his team and his captain when he stepped into the station ten minutes after his shift started. He barely had time to eat the plain bagel he started toasting—his cinnamon raisin ones he kept at the station had gotten moldy since Buck had started making him breakfast more often than not—when the first bell of the day rang through the station. 

His turnout gear was too heavy on his already fatigued body and as he ran into the first fire of the day, the heat was almost too much to handle. He had to carry a man twice his size out of the burning building only to be chastised by Bobby for ignoring a direct order even if it was for the good of the victim. Even Hen was tired of his bad attitude by the time they got back to the station. 

“Oh, thank god,” she muttered as they both jumped out of the back of the firetruck, “maybe you can get the stick out of Eddie’s ass.” Eddie shot daggers at her, but his features softened considerably when the door slammed closed and he saw Buck standing in front of the open doors. 

“Hey,” he said, walking up slowly, his eyebrows furrowed, “did we have plans that I forgot about?” Buck shook his head and raised up a coffee from their favorite sandwich shop a few blocks down the road. 

“A little bird told me that you didn’t have the best morning,” Buck began, pausing to take in Eddie’s form. He was sweaty and covered in grime, the small bandage on his head standing out against his ashen skin. “They didn’t tell me that you were hurt. Are you okay?” Buck asked hurriedly, placing the coffee on the floor before cupping Eddie’s face in his hands. Eddie tried to keep him at arm’s length but Buck pushed forward anyway, inspecting the bandage as if he could see through the thick gauze. 

“I’m completely fine, Buck. Just a little house fire injury. It could’ve been way worse,” he added, which did absolutely nothing to ease the tension in Buck’s shoulders. 

“Chim, the next time you rat my boyfriend out, maybe mention that he has an injury?” Buck asked, causing Eddie to glare in Chim’s direction. He figured Chim was the tattletale but didn’t think Buck would call him out that easily. 

“There will be no next time, you a—”

“Language!” Bobby shouted before Chim could finish. He turned to Buck and Eddie, hands on his hips with his captain face on. “Eddie, you’re taking a long lunch, and before you argue,” he held up a hand when Eddie took a step forward, “it’s either send you to the doctors to get checked out or make you take a damn breather. You decide.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “Got it, Cap. Can I shower first?” He asked, gesturing down at himself. If he looked as gross as he felt, he’d need one before he could enjoy anything. 

Bobby nodded which was all Eddie needed to dismiss himself with a quick peck to Buck’s cheek and the promise that he’d be back soon. It was like the entirety of his horrible morning was washed off of his shoulders while he scrubbed himself down, but he was sure it wasn’t only the showers doing. 

Seeing Buck standing there was on the cusp of overwhelming. The second Eddie saw him, he wanted to be wrapped around him, covered in him, curled up inside of him so that he could make every frustration, annoyance, and sadness in him go away. Even the simple way Buck immediately inspected his injury, ignoring the way he probably felt and smelled after the high-intensity call, had Eddie’s stomach fluttering and the tension in his body turned to mush. 

Eddie dried and got dressed as quickly as he could because all he wanted to do was spend the time he was allotted with Buck. He needed to tell Buck exactly how he felt at that moment and Eddie wasn’t one to hold back, not with anyone, especially Buck. It was a miracle that he had waited that long to say the three words that meant everything to him, ones that he hadn’t said to anyone besides Christopher in what was probably a year. 

“I’ll have him back in an hour,” Buck shouted to the team as Eddie walked out, clean and happy. He sent everyone a wink Eddie didn’t quite understand before he grabbed the coffee from the floor with one hand and laced their fingers together with the other. 

“Where are we going? I thought we could just…” He gestured to the loft but Buck shook his head and led him to his jeep, opening the door as he had on their first date. 

“Don’t give me that look, Diaz. You act like I stopped being the perfect gentleman after all this time,” Buck accused, kissing Eddie’s cheek quickly before he shut the door. 

As he got into the driver’s seat, Eddie said slowly, “This feels like a weird trap.” Buck scoffed and grabbed Eddie’s hand from his lap, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss but saying nothing else. 

Eddie leaned his head back against the seat behind him because even if it was a trap, he trusted Buck. He had no doubt in his mind that Buck was doing something to get his mind off of the horrible morning he had and all it took was the knowledge that Eddie wasn’t in a good mood for him to drop everything. It was really that simple and Eddie couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Hey, Buck?” Eddie asked, keeping his head against the seat behind him but tilting it so he could look at Buck. 

Buck glanced over with a small smile and responded softly, “Yeah?” 

“I love you.” Eddie spoke quietly, barely above the low murmur of the radio Buck always had to have playing in the background, but he knew Buck heard him because he was pulling over to the side of the road almost the second the words were out. “What are you—”

“No!” Buck shouted and before Eddie could ask for an explanation, Buck was out of the car, slamming his door and stomping like a toddler over to Eddie’s side. 

The second the door opened, Eddie said, “Buck, I am so confused.” 

Buck continued to stay silent and grabbed Eddie’s hand, dragging him down the street. Eddie probably could have pulled him to a stop, but he was too busy trying to grasp onto the sliver of string holding his heart together, ready to snap any second if Buck didn’t love him back. He didn’t think that was possible. He had been so sure that Buck felt the same as he had shown it, proved it, on every occasion he could. Eddie wasn’t sure what he would do if—

“Oh,” Eddie whispered when they rounded a corner to a park they frequented with Christopher every so often. The picnic table they always sat at had a white, embroidered table cloth with plates that Eddie recognized from Buck’s kitchen set on top. There was a fake candle in the middle and the same bouquet of flowers Buck had gotten him on their first date settled beside it. 

“It’s been weeks since we had been able to have a moment alone together, Eds,” Buck said, grabbing both of Eddie’s hands in his own and taking a deep breath. He stared into Eddie’s eyes and as if he had memorized an entire speech, cleared his throat and began. “I’ve been trying to plan this big romantic gesture that would blow all of our other dates out of the damn water but every time I had something in place, there was always something else in the way.”

“You don’t need to—” Buck squeezed his hands and raised his eyebrows, a clear threat in his features that had Eddie snapping his mouth shut but still unable to hold back the grin on his lips. 

“As I was saying,” Buck enunciated pointedly as he pulled Eddie to the table and nudged him to sit, “there hasn’t been time for me to tell you how much you mean to me. I know we show it every time we’re together, but words? They mean a lot to me. I’ve never really been good with them. I stuttered as a kid and it was a constant struggle to get anyone to listen to me when I could finally speak my mind…” 

Buck trailed off and glanced away like he was suddenly embarrassed by the admission that had Eddie warming up from the inside out. Eddie angled his head to catch Buck’s eyes and rested a gentle hand on his cheek, nodding to urge him on. He wanted to make sure he heard what Buck had to say, that Buck knew he was there to listen to him even if no one else ever had been. Buck shook his head and let out a huff of disbelieving laughter before he spoke again. 

“The only words that have been swirling around my mind for the last few months have been about you. How lucky I was to have met you when I did, how fun it is to spend time with you, how immediately I fell in deep with both you and Christopher.” At the mention of his son, Eddie’s heart squeezed. Buck knew how much that would have meant to him. “Most importantly, how I’ve never quite loved anyone as much as I love you.” 

Eddie’s cheeks hurt from the wide smile that he couldn’t even try to erase from his face. His stomach bubbled over like champagne finally released from the confines of its bottle and his heart pounded that steady beat that he was sure matched in time with Buck’s. He loved him. Buck loved him and Eddie loved him right back. Nothing could ever be as perfect. 

“But then, you go and steal all of my thunder by blurting it out when I’m just existing,” Buck complained, clear exasperation in his voice that Eddie rolled his eyes at. 

“Our entire relationship doesn’t have to be a competition, Evan,” Eddie argued, standing so he could hold Buck’s face in his hands and brush their noses together. “I know it started that way, with you seeing me as some sort of challenge to pass the time on your hands,” Eddie said softly but was interrupted by Buck shaking his head rapidly. 

“Hey, that’s not—” Eddie chuckled and pressed a delicate kiss to Buck’s lips, smiling when Buck chased after his mouth like he needed more than that. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Buck, because you’ve spent the last few months being everything I tried to run away from and everything I’ve needed. These big romantic gestures from your makeshift handbook were incredible, but I don’t care about anything other than the fact that I really, really love you, okay?”  

Buck nodded and when they kissed, it was with barely contained smiles on their faces. It was awkward with too much teeth and laughter, but they were happy, they were in love. Every second spent with Buck, even when they were rushing around to get him back to the station, was a memory Eddie wanted to keep forever. 

Eddie was looking for an escape when he moved to L.A. He wasn’t trying to find a family or a home for himself, only focusing on the future he could provide for Christopher and caring little for his own. He was searching for an easy way out and hoped it was the right thing for both him and his son. 

Then he realized what’s easy is right and that began and ended with Buck. 

[mcthehuman]

Lucifer, Satan, and Beel with a Sick F!Reader

I’ve been thinking of domestic Lucifer and Satan for a while so I wrote this imagine, I added Beel too because he’s a soft boyo. Should I make for the other brothers?

Lucifer

Even after everything, Lucifer suddenly remembers - you're still a human, a fragile and mortal human - as he watches the witch, Agnodice, care to your wanned body. A white glow glazes over the witch's hand and she places it on top of your feverish forehead. When you groan, Lucifer's body immediately reacts, but the witch's smirk pulls him back, a frustrated line draws on his lips as he digs his arms closer against his chest.

"I must say, this is quite the surprise, Lucifer," she says while standing straight. "I have never even thought of the day you would become attached to a human, especially to a non-magi."

"You're mistaken," he says immediately, defensively. "I am merely following Lord Diavolo's orders by taking care of our human exchange student."

"By calling me?"

"Are you not a human world physician?" He snaps, glaring at her. "Agnodice, I did not summon you to the Devildom to pique your opinion. I am merely doing my job and, frankly, you should be doing yours."

"It's the common flu, Lucifer. It's no pressing need to go through the trouble of summoning me." She smirks then opens her palm silencing the demon as a soft and sparkling white light dances around her hand, a pack of medicines and a neat scroll conjures on top of it.

"She's fine, Lucifer," she says kindly. "It was probably brought upon the upcoming winter winds here in the Devildom. It's quite extreme compared to the ones back in the human world. Assure that she has proper winter attire and that she takes her medicine every six hours after a meal."

"Thank you, Agnodice," Lucifer takes the medicine and examines the scroll carefully. "You may leave."

Agnodice holds back a smile at the sight. Thank you, huh? To the unsuspecting eye, Lucifer remained collected and haughty, an image only befitting of the responsible and mighty Avatar of Pride. But she lived long enough to recognize the telling concern that softened his hardened eyes. The witch turns on her heel and exits the bedroom, pausing as to hear you moan from the other side.

"Lucifer?" You croak, pushing your body up weakly. Lucifer frowns and takes a seat beside you, holding onto your frail arms.

"Don't strain yourself," he coos. "Get more rest. I'll wake you when there's food."

"I'm not hungry," you whisper, resigning as he gently lays you back on the bed. "I feel cold."

Lucifer tucks the comforter closer to your neck, his fingers skimming against the skin of your jaw gently. "I shall fetch you more blankets then," he stands but you immediately catch his wrist, your hand faltering almost immediately at the sudden strain of energy. Lucifer sits once more, taking your hand in his and caressing it gently with his thumb.

"Such a troublesome human," he whispers and you laugh throatily. His words were harsh, but Agnodice notes the apparent gentleness of his voice and quietly flushes her body closer to the door, listening intently.

"You find it endearing."

"What is it that you want?"

"Sleep with me," you say and catch Lucifer off guard, his eyes widened by surprise. You let out another throaty laugh, "Not like that, silly. I meant, sleep beside me. It will make me feel better, plus, the sleep will do you good. I know you're a report away from fatigue."

"Demons do not get fatigued," Lucifer states a matter-of-factly, slipping his hands underneath your back and legs before lifting you in one smooth ascend. "Are you failing Basic Demonology?"

"Hmm," you shift closer against Lucifer's chest, sighing at the intimate sound of his heartbeat. "I don't think so. Either way, you do need the rest."

"I don't need to rest. But," Lucifer leans close to your forehead and presses a chaste kiss on top, keeping still and letting his lips brush against your skin as he spoke. "I must take care of what's mine, so I shall sleep beside you. Come, my bed is much bigger."

Oh Lucifer, Agnodice smiles as she quietly pushes herself off from the door, walking briskly out of the hall, you've mellowed.

Satan

There's a faint glow from your bedside table as you wake from your sleep. You groan and shift from underneath the neatly tucked comforter on top of you, hearing a soft "oh" from beside you as you do. Satan lowers his book and flashes a gentle smile when you meet his eyes. He stands from his chair and takes one stride to your bed, sitting beside a space near your legs.

"Hey," he says softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you croon. Satan catches the way you weakly push yourself up and moves closer, helping you by your shoulders to sit up. When you're comfortably seated, he slowly pulls his hands away, skimming his cool fingers against your hot arms as he does so.  

"Thank you," you whisper, weakly taking his hand in yours before he could pull away. He smiles and holds it endearingly, his thumb grazing against your knuckles. 

"Anytime," he says with a genuine smile. "Are you hungry?"

"I am," you nod. "What's for dinner?"

"We had Quetzalcoatl brain stew. But," Satan hesitantly pulls his hand away and stands, walking to the bedside table to pick up a tray. "I thought you might want something else."

Satan carefully places the tray on your lap and you feel your heart swell at the sight - a small vase of flowers that looked like the Devildom's counterpart of the Peony, a tall glass of water with lemon, small chocolate candies, a book, and a small clay pot.

"Don't - don't get ahead of yourself," he stammers and you look up to see faint pink tinting his cheeks. "It's my first time cooking this, so I don't know if it's your liking." 

He takes the lid off and you smile at the sight and smell that dances in your nose.

"Is this chicken noodle soup?" you ask, your smile spreading farther on your cheeks. Satan nods and clears his throat.

"I read that this was the best human dish to serve when one is sick."

"It is," you reach for the spoon but hesitate when Satan shuffled anxiously. 

"There are so many variations to the recipe, but if we're talking about the key ingredients, Devildom cuisine has a counterpart - "

His insistent warnings grew faster but went nowhere as you leaned in and took a spoonful, making sure to blow it a little before taking a sip. Satan pursues his lips as he watches you taste it.

"It's good," you say a few seconds later and giggle as to see the evident relief wash over his face.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Please be a bit more constructive," he says seriously. You let out a throaty laugh and nod once before taking another sip, letting the soup stay on your tongue longer.

"It's a little bland," you say slowly, unsure of what to say - it really did taste good. "But, I think that's a good thing. I am sick, so my senses are a bit muted. If it were any saltier, it probably wouldn't be good for me either."

"Alright then," Satan rubs his chin before nodding contently, a small smirk curving his lips. "Don't lie to me now. If you are, you're giving me false confidence in trying to cook more human world dishes for you."

"I'm not," you giggle softly. "So you better stay true to your word and cook more. How did you get these ingredients anyways?"

"I had help from a few friends," he says, a glint in his eyes. "In fact, human world ingredients aren't as scarce as you may think they are here in the Devildom - a few cafes and restaurants serve human world cuisine as appetizers since many demons enjoy them. But compared to Devildom, Celestial, and, well - a human's soul itself - your dishes are almost immediately digested and we easily get hungry after that."

"I see," you smile, always enjoying the way Satan elaborates on topics. "You should take me to some of these places."

"Get better first," he says firmly but sweetly. Satan moves closer, pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you lean for another spoonful of soup. "Do you need anything else?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile and reach for the book on the tray, weakly waving it in front of him. "Read to me?" 

"Of course," Satan smiles and transfers to your side, lifting the tray with ease as you move to give him space. He places the tray on both of your laps and sits right against the bed.

"Now then," he whispers and presses a brief and chaste kiss on your temple while opening the book to its first page. "Let us begin."

Beelzebub

Beelzebub loosens his tight arms around you as you shift awake, visible discomfort etched on your face. The large demon frowns and reluctantly lays his arms down as you wiggle out of the comforter wrapped tightly around you. When you open your eyes, your face softens and all discomfort from the heat fades away.

"Beel?" you call, genuinely confused at the sight of him beside you. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers apologetically. "I know I shouldn't have, but you started shivering so I..." Beelzebub trails sheepishly as he starts to move aside. However, you catch his arm and weakly pull him back close to no hesitation.

"No," you croak. "I was just surprised to see you beside me, that's all. Don't leave."

Beelzebub smiles sweetly and carefully wraps his arms around you in another tight hug, leaving the comforter to the side this time. His eyes are a mixture of adoration and worry as he wipes off the sweat accumulated on your forehead and nose.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, pushing back a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I made porridge." 

"Yes, but," you frown and Beel tilts his head. "I don't want to leave this position yet. I've never felt so safe and warm."

Beelzebub flashes another sweet smile and caresses your cheek with the back of his hand - briefly yet endearingly - before lifting it in the air afterward. You watch as a soft and sparkling orange glow dance around his hand, a small "woah" escaping your lips in awe. A few seconds later, you hear a small rattle by your dresser and turn your head, watching as a bowl and spoon, both wrapped in the same orange glow, fly from the drawer towards the bed.

"Sometimes I forget you all are demons with magical powers," you whisper. "Especially you, you've never done anything flashy like this before."

"Lucifer banned me from using magic whenever I wanted something to eat," he says, a chuckle escaping his lips. "But I think he'll allow this time since I'm not the one eating."

Beel sits up then gently cradles you against his chest. Another sweet smile draws on his lips as he looks down at you - small and cute against his large chest - and hugs you tightly. However, before you could react, Beelzebub slowly drops his arms to the side, frowning as he suddenly remembers that you were a fragile human, in the process of recovering, and he was a large demon with massive strength.

"You're so small and too cute," he frowns and takes the floating spoon. "Please eat and get better soon."

"Don't worry, Beel. You saw me sweating, right? That means I'm getting a lot better," you say kindly and take the spoonful of soup from his hand. "Please keep hugging me. I'll tell you if it's too tight or too hot, okay?"

It takes a few seconds but Beel nods and hugs you once again, watching you eat with a gentle focus.

"Do you want some?" you ask and on cue, you hear a loud grumble from Beel's stomach. The large demon blushes shyly but shakes his head nonetheless. 

"I'll eat after you," he says solemnly and blushes a faint pink a few seconds later when another grumble erupts.

"Here," you offer him a spoonful to which he takes after a moment of hesitation. "When was the last time you ate anyways?"

"Twelve hours ago," he mumbles with a frown and gently takes the spoon from your hand. "You're really amazing..."

"What do you mean?" 

"Even when you're sick, you're still taking care of me..." 

"I don't think it's as amazing as you may think it is," you whisper, feeling your cheeks grow warmer despite your recovery. "I know you'd do the same for me, Beel. Besides, I don't think I can finish this."

"What?" Concern washes over the awe in Beel's face. "But you said you were getting better..."

"I am!" you say quickly and cup his face, caressing his cheeks assuringly. "I am. It's just when we humans get sick, we lose our usual appetite."

"You already don't eat much in the first place..." he whispers. "Are you sure you're full? Please don't worry about me, we demons don't get sick."

"I promise," you drop your hands and lean forward to kiss his cheek sweetly. When you pull away, Beel touches his cheek absent-mindedly, the worry melting into shy happiness. "Please help yourself. I don't want your food to go to waste."

"Alright," Beel nods. You watch him reach for the small bowl and inhale the porridge in one gulp, chuckling at the sight - did you really expect less from the Avatar of Gluttony himself? He lifts his free hand, the same orange glow wraps around it, and a glass of water and small packet of medicine fly towards you.

"Please drink your medicine and water then," he says after wiping his mouth. "Lucifer said you should drink it immediately after eating."

"You should go and eat more," you say while complying, placing the tablet on your tongue before pushing it down with water. Beel swipes his hand - the floating objects flying back on top of the dresser - then carefully wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace.

"You said you didn't want to leave this position," he whispers and presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. "So, I'm not leaving."

"But you're hungry," you frown but shift closer against his chest.

"I am, but," Beel wraps his arms tighter around your body and rests his face against the mop of your hair, inhaling your scent - I'd rather know you're healthy. "Food tastes better when you're around. So, get rest, okay?"

You smile and flutter your eyes close, "Okay."

If you enjoyed, please leave a comment or like... or follow... quq

[nitannichionne]

Luna IV Chapter 9: The Full Moon (A Cavill Syverson Fan Fic)

Days later, you go to market to get more supplies for the garden. It was coming along nicely, and you don’t want anything to go wrong. For some reason you can’t keep your eyes off him-his intense gaze, his broad shoulders-you can even single his voice out from a distance. People look at you, whispering as you pass, and you tilt your chin in defiance. Helena, of course, is the first to say something to you at all.

“Hey,” Helena smiles.

“Hi, Helena,” you sigh. “What’s going on?”

Helena’s eyes widen. “He tore that merchant a new one!”

It was your turn to widen your eyes, shock in your features. “What?”

“Look at him.”

You both look over to the fruit stand where the merchant is. His wife is there, which is a first. And he has his arm in a sling. “What—“

“Andreas came back here the very next day and tore that man apart. The bruises are gone now, but not that fractured arm. Told him that if he ever touched any trainee—you in particular—again, he’d lose his business.”

You feel breathless as you locked eyes with the merchant. He looks away and limps to a chair while his wife moved fruit to the display boxes. “Oh.”

“You didn’t know, did you?” Helena chuckles at your reaction. “I’ve never seen Andreas so angry, so…” her expression turns coy. “passionate about anyone in years.”

You feel your cheeks heat under Helena’s knowing gaze. “Oh, he’s just—“

“Just nothing, Zen,” Helena chides softly. “And you’re changing, too.” She smiles and hugs you. “It’s a good thing, Zen. It’s good.”

After lunch with Helena and Gabrielle, you decide to bring his favorite, blueberry acai juice, to him. It’s a hot day and truthfully, you…you just want to see his face. Earlier today, you almost asked him to stay home, and the feeling drove you crazy.

“Sy?” You feel nervous, having never done this before. He is standing in front of the station, talking with some of his men.

He turns and sees you. “Hey, sweetheart, what—”

“I brought you something to drink, it’s hot out here.” You look around and see all those terrible officers that took other women away the first day you came. Your eyes show nothing but contempt for them and you feel warring emotions. He was the leader, right? How can she look at him like she does, knowing—

“Oh, is that my favorite?” He smiles. “Aw, thank you, it’s so hot out here.” He holds out his cup. “Just ice in there, drank the water already.”

You pour juice in his cup. You feel uneasy around the men, but stand your ground. You wanted to do this, right?

He sips it and lets out a contented sigh. “Did you get your strawberry acai?”

You gasp, not because he asked, but because he knew your favorite as well. “No—”

“You should,” he nods. “I’ve got some things to do here, Helena can take you home.

You are sad, honestly sad! You hate feeling this way. It’s not like he’ll won’t be home later, right?

One of the guys laughed, “Aw, she’s—”

Sy snaps his fingers, his expression hard with warning. The young officer gulps and steps away, basically out of arm’s reach. He steps past them and takes you aside. “I’ll be home by moonrise, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you for the drink, hit the spot.” He frames your face and kisses you tenderly. You feel almost lightheaded. “I’ll see you at home.”

You nod, your heart racing as you go back to the marketplace to find Helena.

After getting home, you race to do your usual daily chores. You feel anxious and on edge, as if there isn’t much time and you don’t know why.

As the hours pass, you start to feel it: Your nipples are so tight they begin to hurt. You lose your appetite. Your sex clenches and unclenches in painfully growing spasms. Your body breaks out in a sweat.

You strip after sweating through your dress, and look out the window.

The moon. What did he say the first day you got here?

“Luna IV has a hard gravitational pull, especially at night on those with higher estrogen levels, intensifying libido.”

The moon!

You almost don’t make it to the bed, your blood thudding in your ears, your sex hungrily clenching with need as you slam windows shut in hopes of limiting the effects, but it’s too late. Your nipples hurt, but not as much as they did wearing your dress. The soft cloth felt like sandpaper until you took it off. You are helpless, unable to fight, writhing with fever, aching and in need.

You hear your name called in the darkness. You know that voice.

“Sy?” your voice is somewhat hoarse from your throat being so dry, and you cannot see him. But, you could swear you could smell him—the desert, aftershave, sweat—oh, no…

He comes toward your voice in the bedroom. He finds you laying naked in moonlight, your body glistening as you lay on the bed, writhing as if in pain. 

“Something’s wrong,” you whimper, hugging yourself. “Something’s wrong!”

He begins undressing. “No, love. I’m sorry I’m late, got held up.”

“I’m sick—I have a fever-“

“No.” He crawls over you on the bed. He winces as if he feels your pain, or at least empathizes.

“It hurts, it hurts!” you cry out.

With no prelude, Sy places his knee between your legs to widen them, crushes your body into the sheets and thrusts inside you, making you gasp. You don’t realize how soaking wet you are till just then. His jaw tightens as he moves in and out of you slowly. You moan loudly, wantonly, with relief you cannot fathom. “Calm down…it’s the moon.” His voice is strained as he rains kisses on your face, trying to quell your trembling body. He rotates his hips, and you gasp again, your body arching. “It’s the moon.”

“Uh-“

“It’s need,” he grates out, still moving. He looks down at you. Your body had already begun moving with his. “Shh…it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Agony changes into relief as your high pitched whimpers turn into low moans. He holds you tighter, allowing his weight to serve as added stimulus, an added caress. You move in perfect rhythm until you arched, a scream tearing from your throat. You squirm under him as he thrusts harder, deeper, not slowing down despite your climax. You begin to shiver in aftermath, and then he moves low on you, his tongue dipping inside to lick you. You gasp sharply, your hips rotating, and he puts a pillow under your back, putting you in an arched position without effort.

“Mmmm…”

You pant, grabbing his head, your knees spreading and bending in submission to him. Your high pitched pants end in another scream as he brings you ecstasy. Barely letting you catch breath, he crawls over you, reclaiming you and resuming the piston-like rhythm he’d done before. You rake your fingers over his broad back, and make him moan as your nails dig into his spine. He manages ragged kisses as he moves within you, knowing he is bruising your lips, and reveling in the fact that you are branding each other with small scratches and bites.

“Sy!”

The strangled cry was the onset of your next climax. His whole body tightens, savoring the sensations of your body giving into his. His jaw tightens with control and then he goes down on you again, making you whimper, tremble, and then weakly and greedily rotate your hips to urge him on. You sob his name, your voice raw with emotion.

After about four times of this alternation, he knows he has weakened and tired you, especially after putting your legs over his shoulder and pounding you almost mercilessly. Your mewls are even a little strained, a sign of fatigue. He turns you onto your hands and knees.

“Put your knees together,” he commands.

You did.

“On your elbows.”

You did that too.

Putting his knees on either side of yours and grabbing your hips, he pushes deep and hard, earning a guttural moan from you. He slowly bathes his tip and shaft inside you, making you feel every delicious inch. He begins a rhythm that has you both moaning. With your legs closed, the friction is mesmerizing for you both. He traces your spine lovingly as you mewl his name, whimpering your pleasure as you arch, rocking back and forth against him. He meets your rhythm, raking your back with one hand as he holds you in place with the other, thrusting as hard as he can. Finally, you cry out in a final release, the sounds more animal than human.

You both collapse on the bed, him on top of you. He kisses your shoulder blades, your back, and come back up to your neck as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

He turns you to him, and you touch his face, beholding nothing but strong and warm emotion for and from him. No words necessary. He kisses you tenderly, licking your dry lips, and you giggle, caressing the back of his head.

“Are you okay now?” he asked knowingly, teasingly.

You nod, a small smile on your face.

He kisses you again, and turns your back to him, pulling hyou against him as he had become accustomed. In a spooning position, he strokes your limbs, and you sigh. “Sleep now. You’ll need it.” He says, draping his arm and a sheet over you before closing your eyes.

@fckdeusername @maan24  @rn7rocks @kaatelyyynn  @october505

[random-mha-thoughts]

Soup (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: FLUFF!! I’m personally so devastated hhh

Summary: You come home late from training to find your boyfriend asleep in your bed because he was waiting for you.

Word count: 1,372

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: The next few posts will be fluffyyyy.  I haven’t done Todo in a while, so this one and the next will be Todo and then one more fluff for Baku.  And then maybe we’ll get into some angst, we’ll see.

I wasn’t expecting this to be so fluffy, buuut I myself am touch starved and lonely. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go cry because I want a Shoto for myself but he’s not real T_T

(Not gonna lie, I got this idea when I saw a design for a Todo body pillow...)

I slump down onto the padded ground, breaths heaving in and out as my chest rises and falls to pull as much oxygen in as possible.  "How was that one?" I heave out.

Tokoyami clenches and flexes his fist, Dark Shadow completely gone.  "I believe your quirk has gotten a bit stronger," he concludes flatly, "You almost completely withered Dark Shadow with that last blast."

"Great," I whoop, trying to hold onto the small amount of energy left in my body, but I end up staring at the ceiling with a thud.

"(L/n), are you alright?" the boy waltzes over and kneels in front of me.  "Have I overworked you?"

"I'm fine," my voice croaks out.  I feel for my bottle with my sports drink.  "I need a few minutes to recoup."  With the way my body's quivering, I need to relax for a few moments before I can even attempt standing.

Tokoyami grabs my drink from a few feet away and hands it to me, helping me up.  "I understand why you always carry sports drinks and snacks while you train.  You must use up more energy than the normal hero with your quirk."  He sits me up and holds his arm out for me to brace on it.

The shaky arm I use to lift the bottle to my mouth leans on his to keep me steady.  After gulping down the entire rest of the bottle, I catch my breath.  "Thanks, Tokoyami."

"Would you like help going back to the dorms?" he asks earnestly, releasing his arm from my back when I manage to lean forward myself.

"No, it's okay, I just need a minute for the drink to kick in," I wave him off.  "I'll get some food when-"  My entire body goes colder despite the air hitting my sweat.  Aw shit.  "Can you hand me my phone, please?"  Once I have it and it lights up, I groan out.  "Damnit, I'm late."  From both the flash of the late hour and the list of text messages from my boyfriend, I scramble to my feet.  "I gotta run back, I'm sorry."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" the mysterious boy repeats, clearly worried about my state.

"I'll be okay, I'm going straight to the dorms."  I swipe my training bag from the bench near the door and throw it open.  "Bye!  Thanks for the training!"

Sprinting all the way back to the dorm building proved difficult.  Running on whatever small amount of adrenaline and energy left in my body after a harsh workout isn't my best idea.  I start munching on the crackers stashed in my bag for times like this, just so I don't pass out from low blood sugar on the way up to my room.  He's probably so worried, it's so late, I think.

Todoroki wanted to cook dinner for us in the dorms today, just to celebrate the ending of a tough week.  Tokoyami wanted to practice with my Light quirk after class since we didn't have enough training with it during our training session.  I wasn't anticipating being there until 9 pm, especially not without telling Todoroki.  He had sent so many texts asking when I would be back, telling me he started cooking already, hoping that I wasn't overdoing it, everything that would make him seem like a worried mother.  It made me so guilty that I was so engrossed in training that I didn't hear my phone chiming.

Finally making it to my room and opening the door, my well-rehearsed apology died on my lips only to quirk up into a soft smile.  My sweet boyfriend lays sprawled across my bed, head cradled by a pillow as he rests on his back in a white shirt and sweatpants.  The shirt lifts up slightly to reveal a patch of bare skin at his waist.  His toned arms trap an open book across his chest, phone loosely gripped in his hand.  He looks so peaceful, mouth slightly agape and chest steadily rising and falling.

My heart softens in both affection and guilt.  He seems to have fallen asleep waiting up for me, checking his phone even as his eyes drooped close.  His week wasn't the easiest either, poor boy deserves to feel exhausted.

I tiptoe around the room to gather my clothes to go shower, not wishing to disturb his slumber.  After quickly rinsing the sweat off my body and out of my hair and drying myself, I poke my head out the door to see how my sleeping prince is faring.  He hasn't moved a muscle.  I dress and exit, barely making any noise, closing the bathroom door behind me.

"Love?"

The word both startles and rushes me with warmth.  His head turns to the side, eyes lazily fluttering open.

"I just got back," I coo softly, laying next to him.  "I'm sorry I made you worry, I was still training."

"It's fine, at least you're here," his voice comes out deep and scratchy.  He places the book on the other side and wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer to kiss the top of my head.  "Mmm, vanilla honey," he hums in appreciation.

I chuckle at his observation.  "Perceptive."

His breathing is still deep as he rubs his eyes of the remaining sleep.  "You must be hungry, love.  I'll go reheat the pot," he mumbles, though he makes no move and turns onto his side to keep cuddling me.

"How're gonna do that when you're still sleepy, baby?" I singsong to him.

"Just a minute."  Todoroki presses a warm kiss to my forehead.  "I missed you today."

"I missed you too."

His eyes open up again, resting his mismatched eyes on me affectionately.  "Did you overwork yourself again?  I refilled your stash of snacks in your bag earlier this week so you would have enough."

"I had some on the way here, thank you," I nod.

He inhales and hums again, his arm around me constricting more.  "Mmm, you smell so sweet."  Burying his face in my neck, he peppers kisses in the curve between my shoulder and nape.  "I might have you for dessert before dinner."

The comment makes heat flush to my face, his cold hand tracing up my spine through my shirt.  "B-But I was looking forward to your cooking, Shoto."

He raises his head back up, a cute slight pout on his lips and messy hair almost sweeping into his eyes.

I brush a hand through his bangs to move the soft locks.  "You worked hard to make it, don't spoil your appetite.  You must be hungry since I made you wait."

Todoroki leans into my touch.  "You're right.  Besides, you need a proper meal after training so hard."  Another kiss on my nose and he finally gets up.  "Sit tight while I reheat the soup."

I roll onto my other side to face him, already missing his warmth.  "What kind of soup?"

"Soba."

I want to throw my head back and laugh, but my body aches now that I've relaxed all my muscles.  "Of course soba."  A groan escapes my lips as I stretch onto my back.

"I added some meat and veggies to make it more filling."  I can hear the hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"I'm looking forward to tasting it."  My eyes close slowly, fatigue finally overtaking me as I feel my body sinking into the mattress and I relish the quiet for a few moments.

Suddenly, Todoroki's weight is on top of me and my eyelids shoot open before his lips press against mine for a brief moment, my stomach fluttering.  He pulls away, a playful glint in his heterochromatic orbs as he chuckles.  "I couldn't help it, love, you looked so cute."  He doesn't let me get a word in, continuing to pepper my entire face in kisses.  "I promise I'll massage all your muscles later so you can relax."

Finally regaining control on the tumbling feeling in my stomach, I hug his torso closer and kiss him again.  "You're too much, Shoto," I chuckle.

One of Todoroki's hands supporting his body near my head brushes my cheek, a soft smile on his face.  "And you're my everything, love."

[ibelongtowrath]

I Forgot To Say “Goodnight” - MLQC Gavin (NSFW)

Summary: It's been a long day of investigating the mysterious illness that seems to be plaguing Loveland. Gavin brings you home, only to be stuck for the night from an impromptu quarantine. Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Gavin x Reader, Gavin x Female Reader (1st person) Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, fluff and smut, eventual smut Word Count: 4,406

Read on AO3

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic, and I had to go big by writing a smut one! I hope you like it!

It’s late, almost midnight, so everything is quiet as Gavin and I walk through the door of my apartment; almost eerily so, adding to the already dismal mood I’ve been in for the past hour. A whole day spent investigating, only to end up with no answers as to the mysterious illness that’s been going around Loveland. People have been falling ill left and right, with seemingly no explanation as to why. Evol powers have been getting out of control lately in Loveland, the amount of incidents skyrocketing exponentially since last month. 

Before I enter the door behind Gavin, I steal a quick glance across the hall, and just as quickly, look away and walk through the doorway. It’s been weeks, and not a single word from Lucien.

He might have an idea what’s going on. Lucien...  

Suddenly, the memory of his betrayal flashes before me. Raw anger and sadness grip my heart for a split second, and I have to suppress a gasp. The thoughts weigh down on my mind, and I feel a sigh escape from my lips.  I can’t think about this now. I can’t.

My eyelids suddenly feel heavy, as though they’re made of bricks, and I’m struggling to keep them open. Giving in to the fatigue, I allow myself a moment of sweet darkness as my lids close slowly. Gavin,  sweet, sweet Gavin , catches my arm as I stumble forward.

“Are you okay?” he asks, studying me, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Yeah,” I answer, opening my eyes further. “I’m just...tired.” My eyes meet his, their honey-colored amber hue daring me to get lost in them. He squints slightly, then lets his eyes soften as he relaxes his brow. He releases my arm once I’m stable and standing up straight. I lean against the counter, studying him as he faces me.

“We’ve had a long day. That’s understandable. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”

I nod in agreement. I take a second to admire the way his light brown hair falls messily, but carefully at the same time, across his handsome face. I know he has to leave soon, now that he knows I’m safe. 

But... I kind of wish he doesn’t have to leave.

I shake my head furiously at the absurd thought, mentally picturing myself crumpling it into a ball, and throwing it away. I had been dealing with these confusing feelings for a while now; stowing them in the back of my mind, not quite sure how to sort them.

Gavin is always there for me, when I need him most. He’s always ready to rescue me, telling me that as long as I’m in the wind, he can find me. It was difficult trying to reason with myself as to why my heart pounded harder, harder every time I thought of him. I’m always the damsel in distress, and he’s always my knight in shining armor. 

I realize Gavin’s still looking at me, and feel the heat of shame rush to my cheeks, even though he has no idea what I was thinking. The dimmer switch is on low, casting a hazy light over the kitchen. I silently pray that the lighting gods have blessed me, and Gavin can’t see the embarrassment written on my face.  I wonder if he thinks these things about me ...I cough abruptly, then look up at him.

“Thank y-” 

The shrill, ear-splitting sound of a siren suddenly interrupts my gratitude. I instinctively clap my hands over my ears, wincing at the sound. Gavin looks around, assessing the situation calmly. He’s so good at this, and I’m...not. He looks at me, then turns towards the door.

“Stay here,” he demands as he goes to leave the apartment. As he opens the door, the wail of the siren shrieks louder. He steps out the door, and the alarm ceases. I sag in relief. Glancing out the window, I see familiar red and blue lights, flashing brightly against the dim light of the apartment. Gavin turns back around to look at me again, stepping forward, and-

“Attention. Attention. ” A loud male voice stops us yet again. “ Please remain in your respective homes. We are enacting a temporary quarantine until further notice, effective immediately. There is no immediate cause for alarm. Please remain in your home, and do not leave under any circumstances. We anticipate opening the building back up again sometime tomorrow. Thank you.”

What is going on? Is it this serious ? I shake my head. I can’t help but wonder if Lucien is in his apartment, and secretly wish I could ask if he has any idea what’s happening.

I hear the click of a door being closed, my head turning towards the sound, and realize it’s Gavin. He reaches his arm behind his head, gazing towards the floor, an impassive look on his face. It finally hits me, the fact that he is unable to leave, and will have to spend the night. I feel myself blushing furiously again, silently cursing myself for my earlier wish.

Be careful what you wish for, dummy …

I inhale deeply, attempting to control the frenzied chaos of the varied emotions swirling around inside of me. My eyes meet his, and he gives me a reassuring smile.

“Looks like I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll be able to protect you a little bit longer,” Gavin says. I feel a wave of gratitude overtake all the other feelings, and I’m finally able to focus. “Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, returning his smile. “I’m sorry, my couch probably isn’t all that comfortable…” I trail off, because my next extremely intrusive thought slams its way into my head:  We could share my bed …

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” There’s that reassuring look again. The way his face softens when he looks at me just about does myself in. Afraid I’m going to suddenly collapse into a pile of bouncy Jell-O on the floor, I force my legs to move to the closet, where I grab a blanket and a spare pillow for Gavin to use. I fold the blanket gently over the couch, placing the pillow on one of the arm rests.

I must look nervous, and I do feel a bit shaky; suddenly Gavin crosses the room just then, and gives me a soft, reassuring squeeze of my shoulder. I startle a bit, then look up at him. A sense of calm comes over me. I truly feel safe whenever he’s with me.

Looking back at the couch, I cough again. “If you need anything else, just let me know. Oh, and, if you need to…,” I trail off again, trying to quell the heat threatening to betray my calm exterior, “you can use the shower. I have plenty of towels in the linen closet, and if you don’t mind smelling like lavender, the shampoo and conditioner are yours to use too. Oh, and there’s a spare toothbrush.”

He laughs, patting the top of my head. “You’re always thinking of everyone else before yourself,” he tells me. “Go to sleep. You need it.”

I look up at him, grinning. “Okay, Officer Gavin.” I salute him, and he laughs again as I walk away towards my bedroom. I open the door, close it gently, then run and collapse onto the bed, a deep sigh escaping me. I feel my eyelids grow heavy again. I’m exhausted, and ready to welcome the sweet, dark embrace of sleep.

A few minutes later, I hear the click of the bathroom door closing, and the  swish  sound of the shower turning on. Just then, I realize I never actually said “good night” to Gavin, and, being the way I am, it bothers me. I resolve to wait until he’s out of the shower, then tell him. It will make me feel better, especially since I barely got to say “thank you” for always being by my side.

About twenty minutes pass. The water shuts off, and a few minutes later, I hear the bathroom door open. I cross my room, open up the door and walk out. Cheerfully, I pad my way over to the living room.

“I forgot to say goodn-” 

Immediately, the sight in front of me causes the part of my brain that controls my speech to fizz out. Gavin is standing in the living room, with only a grey plush towel wrapped around him, sitting low on his hips. His arms are raised, drying off his hair with another towel. The ripple of his strong, muscular shoulders flex with the movement of his arms. Several scars decorate his deltoids, tempting me into tracing their outlines; to feel the stories hidden deep within them. At the sound of my voice, he turns around. He looks surprised, but the look quickly turns into something else that I can’t quite place.

I am absolutely floored, and nearly have to grab the doorway to prevent myself from falling to the ground. The beautiful, intricate muscles I could see when his shirt had accidentally lifted, are finally on full display. His broad, strong shoulders and his chest are still slick with a slight sheen from the water. 

His arms are perfectly sculpted, as are his chiseled six-pack abs; they, too, glisten with tiny beads of water, dripping over the taut ridges of his abdomen. Even the muscles around his clavicle are taut and defined; I want to bury myself in his neck and breathe him in. 

For a split second, I let my eyes drift down to his low-hanging towel that shows off a delicious, tantalizing line of muscle by his hips; that perfect v-line, driving me crazy, and in the middle of it, I can see the happy trail of fine, light brown hairs that travel from his navel down to where I can’t see...but I wished, more than anything, that I could.

“I, uh, I...I forgot to say ‘goodnight,’” I stuttered. My face is so hot, it feels like it could burst into flames at any moment. 

The impassive look on Gavin’s face quickly softens. He relaxes his arms, resting the towel around his neck. He smiles, taking a step towards me. 

“You’re so cute.”

Okay, now my face is absolutely  flaming . I can only imagine that my skin tone looks akin to a tomato at this point. Quickly, I turn around to retreat back into my bedroom. As I’m turning, I feel Gavin’s warm hand grip my arm, gently forcing me to turn back towards him. Up close, the sight of him is even more disorienting, and I can’t help but look down where the towel is hanging off of him.

Suddenly, his hand moves from my arm, tracing the curve of my neck. He cradles my face in his hand, gently moving my head from its downward position so that I’m looking straight up at him. Our eyes meet, and this close, I can’t help but to fall in deep; deep into those beautiful, honey-colored eyes that I never want to look away from. The only way I can describe the emotion in his eyes is...hungry.

His lips part slightly. His thumb traces over my lips, surprising me with how soft his skin feels. I can smell the relaxing lavender perfume of the shampoo in his hair. I feel myself compulsively leaning into him, our bodies now pressed together. I want nothing more than to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine.

Gavin leans in, lips soft on my neck. He kisses it gently. Slowly, methodically, he kisses my neck again, making his way to my jawline. He gently presses me forward, so that my back is leaning against the arm of the couch. Finally, he presses his mouth to my own, which I part slightly, ready for him. At the touch of his lips, I feel a burst of heat travel down my body, and it feels as though I am blooming under his touch. His lips are surprisingly soft, and I don’t want it to stop.

I bite down gently on his lower lip, and his tongue makes its way to meet mine. I hook my left leg around his waist and he pulls his tongue away, while a soft moan escapes his lips. My arms are around him, and I dig my nails into his shoulders, as if he’s anchoring me to that spot; I don’t want to move, or for him to stop, for that matter. Surely, he can feel the pounding  thump, thump  of my heart against his chest.

His mouth presses down on my neck again. I feel his hand gently reaching under my t-shirt, gliding along the curve of my waist; the touch sending shivers up my spine. Gavin’s hand travels further up, up, and he cups my left breast, causing a small moan to escape from my lips. I can feel his toweled erection between my legs. My own excitement starts to thrum, and I can feel the arousal drenching my underwear.

At that moment, Gavin pulls away. I feel suddenly cold, the absence of his body on mine almost like a shock to my system. I pant slightly, aching for his touch again. He holds his head in his hands, shaking it furiously.

“I can’t...I’m so sorry,” he says, walking towards the front of the couch. He sits down, still holding his head, which is hanging low. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. God, I…” he trails off.

My legs are a bit shaky, but I make my way over and stand in front of Gavin. He drops his hands into his lap, looking up at me. His eyes widen, and I know he’s drinking in the sight: my lips are pink and swollen, my hair messily falling around my shoulders, and eyes full of desire.

“Gavin...I want you. I  need  you,” I tell him. He doesn’t say anything as he watches me move towards him. “I don’t want you to stop. Please.” Feeling bold, I don’t let Gavin answer; instead, I straddle him, my legs on either side of his waist. He inhales sharply, then grins, his mood visibly shifting.

He presses himself against me again, and I feel his soft lips against the curve of my right breast through my t-shirt. Every touch feels like sparks igniting on my skin. I feel so powerful in that moment, so bold and sexy. I pull away from him briefly, cross my arms to grip the bottom of my shirt, then lift it above my head and off onto the floor. Gavin’s breath hitches, and I feel his arms reach around my back and onto the hook closure of my bra, undoing it so smoothly I barely feel it come loose.

I let the straps fall off my shoulders, and the bra drops to the floor, my breasts now completely exposed. Gavin puts his mouth to mine again, and I grind my hips against his legs, pushing closer, both our bare chests now pressed together. 

The fire returns, shooting straight from my heart down to my hips, and landing between my legs. The desire I feel burns deep; all I can think about is Gavin and his body, and I feel his hardness pressing against me again, which only helps to stoke the fire within. His mouth travels downwards towards my breasts again, while he stops along the way with short, tender kisses against my hot skin. 

His right hand caresses my left nipple gently as his lips make their way down, and I groan. Then, I feel his lips on my right nipple, his tongue flicking at it gently, and I shudder slightly with the pleasure of it, small goosebumps forming on my skin. I lose track of time, with no idea of how long we’ve been pressed together like this; eventually, Gavin pulls away from my breasts and makes his way back to my lips, his tongue meeting mine again, hot and heavy with lust, almost greedily. 

Gavin leans back then, pulling our bodies apart, and I look at him. The yearning, raw desire written all over his face is so satisfying. I hold his amber gaze steadily, and he leans in towards me, mouth next to my ear. He nibbles lightly on the lobe, making me bite my lip to hold back a whimper. Suddenly, he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he places me on the kitchen counter.

“How badly do you want me?” he whispers, his voice husky, leaning into me, asking the breathy question directly into my ear. His breath tickles deliciously. The throbbing heat and desire between my legs won’t stop growing, and I can feel how wet I am with the anticipation.

“I could tell you,” I purr, my voice dripping with honey, “but it would be much easier to  show you.” 

I take his hand and guide it under my soft shorts, letting his fingers hook gently underneath my underwear. Gavin’s breath hitches again, and his fingers venture in further, gently massaging me. The fire is now an inferno, impossible to put out. Then he slides two fingers inside of me, and I cry out in pleasure. 

“Mph!” My moans are muffled by his tongue on mine. Gavin’s fingers curve upwards and down, in a come-hither motion, and I lean back on both my elbows onto the counter; my back arching, my body writhing in the thrill of it. I pull him closer to me, and he leans into my neck, biting the skin gently and sucking. I move my hips along with the rhythm of his fingers, and the delicious mix of pain and pleasure drives me to the edge. I cry out again as the orgasm shudders through me, my nails raking across the skin of Gavin’s shoulders.

I come back down, breathing heavily. Gavin removes his fingers from inside of me, and I grab his hand, sucking on his fingers with my tongue, tasting myself. I’m so  hungry , hungry for more of him; more of his touch that sears my skin. At that moment, he tugs my shorts down my hips, taking my panties with them. They drop to the floor, and he looks at me then, taking in the sight. It’s a gaze filled with such raw desire, and he swallows, all thoughts of the self-control he was trying to have earlier completely erased at the sight of my pretty pussy on full display, the evidence of my arousal dripping down my thighs.

I let my hand trail the fine hairs of his lower abdomen, retreating into the towel still somehow wrapped around his hips. He’s rock hard, and I wrap my fingers around his dick gently, teasing them down the shaft until my thumb circles the head, caressing it lightly. I repeat this a few times, feeling the slick wetness of his pre-cum on my finger. I grin, and Gavin moans into my neck.

“Wait,” he groans, and backs away. “Not here.”   

I can’t help but look at him in that moment, his breathing labored, desire wild in his eyes. I hop off the counter, my legs a little unsteady. I take Gavin’s hand in mine, and lead him into my bedroom, the lights still off. Out of habit, I pull the door closed, even though I live alone. The window is open slightly, a warm breeze caressing our bare skin as we walk towards the bed.

Gavin sits on the bed, grabbing my hips and pulling me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him again. He finally undoes the towel knotted around his hips, and his cock springs out as the fabric pools underneath him. I grab him again, stroking him gently, smiling devilishly at the delicious feeling, knowing I’m doing this to him. Suddenly, Gavin stands up, lifting me with him, and gently lowers me down onto the bed, spreading my legs with his knee.

“You came already, but I'm feeling generous, so I’m going to give it to you again,” Gavin coos. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, but all I know is that I want him, desire him in a way I’ve never felt about anyone else. He presses his mouth to my navel, planting kisses as he makes his way down the contours of my body. His lips leave a trail of fire down my abdomen.

His lips graze my inner thigh, and again on the other side. My pussy throbs with the anticipation. The feeling of it is so delicious, so tantalizing, I hunger for more. I feel Gavin’s tongue between my legs, licking and sucking my clit ever so slightly, driving me wild with the pleasure of it.

He pulls his tongue away, replacing it with his fingers. His thumb begins to circle my nub, and I cry out. His fingers find their way back into my pussy, and they plunge in and out of me. His tongue resumes its rightful place licking around my clit at the same time. I feel the orgasm start to crescendo, and instinctively buck my hips against Gavin’s face. He hooks an arm around my leg, holding me down, not missing a beat of pleasure.  I relax my body, and as I reach the climax, I feel a gushing between my legs.

“Gavin!” I cry out. I lose control then; legs shaking, my body nearly spasming with the orgasm, arching my back, and then pitching my body forward. My legs still parted, Gavin comes up, then leans forward and presses his dick against me. My legs are still shaking, and I’m so, so wet. I can feel the fluid dripping down the bottom of my thighs.

“Good girl,” murmurs Gavin into my neck. His dick presses harder against me. He thrusts into me then, filling me up with himself, and I gasp at how big he is. I’m so wet, so ready to take him in, that it doesn’t hurt; just a slight pressure, and it feels so good. He begins to thrust back and forth, leaning over me, lips pressed against my neck, groaning softly. I arch my back and he lifts my hips up, making the angle deeper.

My arms are around Gavin’s neck, and I thread my fingers into his soft, still slightly damp hair. He continues slamming into me, moving his mouth down lower as he does, tonguing my nipple. The feeling has my blood thrumming with the pleasure of it, my entire body electrified; then, suddenly, he pulls out. He’s panting heavily, raking his eyes over my body as I’m in this compromised position. He leans over me, stroking my face gently; a gesture that doesn’t match the hungered, lustful look in his glistening amber eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you feel so good...I was about to bust and I’m not ready yet.” 

I sit up on my knees, facing him. “Let me ride you, and I bet it’ll be even harder for you to not lose it.” 

He grins, challenging me, and we switch positions: he lays on the bed, and, finally, straddling him, I’m in control. I lower myself onto his cock leaning over him to press my face into his neck, and begin rocking my hips back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. He moves with me, our movements in sync, hands on my hips, guiding me up and down with the tempo of our own song. My head is in the clouds, filled with ecstasy; the feeling of power that comes with knowing that I’m in charge of his pleasure. I feel so amazing, so sexy; something I haven’t felt in months, and I’m relishing every second of it.

Gavin keeps his hands on my hips as I move up and down slowly, then a little faster. “Ugh, fuck,  fuck …” I hear him murmur after a little while. I lean back, curving my body slightly, opening up the angle a bit. My breasts are bouncing with our in-sync movement. I feel Gavin move his hand from my hip, further down; taking advantage of the angle, he begins to circle my clit with his thumb again. 

I’m still sensitive from the previous orgasm, and, mixed with the pleasure of his cock thrusting in and out of me, feeling my pussy tighten around him with anticipation. I dissolve into the pleasure, like a spring coiling tightly, and then releasing; the delicious wave of fire and lightning coursing from between my legs all the way up into my chest. 

“Gavin,” I whimper, leaning over him once again, and he kisses me gently. We resume our previous rhythm, and I know he’s getting close. He grunts, deepening the kiss, then shudders slightly and moans against my lips as he emptied himself into me, filling me with his seed. 

Gavin pulls out, and lays next to me on the bed, cradling my face in his hands. He cups my cheek, and I nuzzle my head into his hand.

“Gavin…,” I whisper, not quite sure what to say. He kisses the top of my head, stroking my hair gently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into my hair. I bury my face into his chest, both of ours rising and falling with the same rhythm. It’s so late, and suddenly I feel so worn out, and so comfortable in his embrace, that I feel my eyelids flutter. I can’t keep them open anymore, and, with Gavin stroking my hair, fall into a deep sleep.

When I wake, it’s light out. I rise slowly, leaning on my arm, and notice the bed is empty next to me.  Gavin ? He probably got called out on a mission, and had to leave. I walk out of my room and into the living room, glancing at the unused blanket and pillow still sitting on the couch. Smiling, I pick them up to put them back into the linen closet. On my way there, I see a small yellow note, decorated with gingko leaves, folded on the counter. Confused, I pick the note up and unfold it carefully.

Good morning , it says, in Gavin’s handwriting. I grin unabashedly, closing my eyes, remembering his touch. As though in answer, a warm breeze trickles through the open window, gently reminding me that Gavin is always with me, no matter where I am.

[fallen029]

So Soon

She was doing her makeup.

Early that morning.

She was standing in Laxus Dreyar's bathroom, leaning over the sink as she did her makeup while the man himself strode into the bathroom, mostly unconcerned with her presence it seemed as, slipping passed her, he only had one thing to grumble at her.

"Didn't fuckin' use all the hot water, did you?" he questioned gruffly. "Demon?"

And she only hummed in reply, not a true answer, but enough of one it seemed as he only took to muttering under his breath as, after turning the faucet for the shower, he began to strip down.

It was all so casual.

Perhaps too casual.

Mirajane wasn't certain when it got like that. It felt rather sudden as she considered it that day, watching the man in the mirror as he stood there for a moment, nude, and shivering before he stepped into the shower stall. When he felt her eyes, he glanced over his shoulder with his typical void gaze.

"Can never be too clean," he remarked to the woman with a raising of one eyebrow. "If you wanted to slide right back outta those clothes-"

"I have to get to the guildhall," she told him with a shake of her head and a refocusing back onto her own reflection. "I'm already late."

"Late." He snorted as he moved to step into the stall. Speaking louder now, as his voice was deadened by the falling water, he remarked, "Sun ain't even up yet."

"It will be in ten minutes," she assured him, "and by then I need to have the doors open and get started on breakfast prep."

"Why?"

He was like a toddler at times, rather than a grown man, purposely acting aloof. Mirajane would love to be annoyed by this, but if anything, it was more personality infringement on his part because, well, it wasn't like she didn't do her fair share of it.

"Because," she practically sang as, standing back, she looked over her reflection carefully, "it's my job, dragon."

"What do you think's gonna happen, huh?" he griped. "Old geezer ain't ever gonna fire you. None of those peons at the hall are going to complain at you."

"It's still," she insisted, "my job."

"So breakfast is late," he kept up. "What's the worst that happens then?"

"Uh, people who are counting on me to feed them are let down," she reminded. "And put behind schedule."

"Fuck their schedules. Fuck them."

"Why do you have such a foul mouth so early?"

"Because I want ya to get in the fuckin' shower with me."

"It's not good, Lax," she called over the falling water, "to get worked up over things that were never going to happen in the first place?"

"Do what?" he questioned, as if he suddenly couldn't make out her words, and maybe he couldn't, but Mirajane didn't find she much wanted to play into him any longer. Or, even if she did, that she was officially out of time to do so.

Though she might not have crossed the wrought iron gates at the exact moment she ascribed to, Mirajane was at the hall in plenty of that day to begin her daily tasks. There were floors and dishes to be scrubbed, mugs and silverware to be polished, bacon to be fried and eggs to be scrambled, as well as some meat to roast for the dinner crowd that evening. The pool area needed new towels and the bath house needed a to be mopped. There were new jobs to tack up and plenty of drinks to be served, as well as idle conversations to begin and the Master to contend with.

Her day was packed.

It always was.

But her mind seemed out of sorts that day and as she struggled through beginning each of those tasks with strong intent on following through with them, but she was hardly to noon when she noted her sister stroll in with the Salamander and Happy, all three laughing over something and no doubt hoping to have something stiff to drink and warm to eat, but instead, Mirajane gifted them only with concern.

"Sick?" Lisanna questioned as her joy was sucked right out of her. "But you never get sick."

"Stay away from me," Natsu told her as he tossed the fabric of his shirt up over his nose. "I can't get sick right now. Not with S-Class right around the corner."

"What's wrong, Mira?" Happy questioned as he fluttered by in concern, but did toss his furry paws over his own face, not hoping to catch any of her germs. "Do you have a fever?"

"No," she was quick to say, not one prone to lies, but also fearful of being caught in one. "I just, well… I feel...unwell. Just unwell."

"Pregnant unwell?" Happy asked hopefully and Natsu made a face at the implication from beneath makeshift mask while Lisanna only eyed her sister carefully.

"N-No," Mirajane insisted with a frown. But then, as the Exceed seemed to flutter more with excitement, she tilted her own head in thought. "Well-"

"Mira, if you're sick," her sister interrupted their pipe dreaming, "then you should go home. Here, I'll take over for you, okay?"

"Well," she sighed as she moved then to begin untying her apron. "If you think so."

"I," Lisanna kept up, "insist."

"Okay." Mira even braved (or at least had trouble containing) a smile. "Well, you're going to need to go into Master's office in about half an hour and give him his afternoon medicine."

"Alright."

"And run the bar."

"Of course."

"And check the meat that is roasting as well as get the dishes from the breakfast rush at least somewhat taken care of and, oh, Kinana isn't scheduled to come in for another three hours, and you still have to get the rest of the jobs cycled out on the board, mop the bath house, start the laundry from both it and the pool, and-"

"And," Happy took over, "I need a fish."

"And get happy a fish," Mirajane finished with a confident nod.

It wasn't quite what Lisanna had written all over her face, but she nodded anyways and Mirajane felt awful, truly she did, but as she left the hall that day, feigning fatigue and a slight bit of nausea, the woman actually had never been better.

"What are you doing here?" was the greeting from her boyfriend when, after politely knocking at the man's door (though they'd exchanged keys, she always sought to respect his boundaries...mostly; at least the ones she'd like returned back to her), it was opened to reveal a dressed slayer with just the hint of a snarl still placed on his face. He hadn't been expecting her, or anyone no doubt, and was not pleased that his personal time was potentially being disturbed. "Is everything okay? Forget something?"

"I'm," she told him simply, "sick."

"Then why the hell did you come here?"

His tone was annoyed and, much like his counterpart, he moved to bury his nose and mouth beneath the neckline of his shirt, but unlike the steps backwards Natsu had taken, Laxus was moving to drag the barmaid into his apartment. She giggled, somewhat amused by his actions, but allowing herself to be tugged along.

"Not really, dragon," she assured the grumbling man as he shut the apartment door behind her. "It's just what I told them."

"Told who?" he questioned as his nose came peeking back out from beneath his t-shirt.

"Lisanna and Happy. And Natsu." Then she tilted her head back and tapped a finger against her chin. "Well, I'm not sure they thought I was sick, rightly, but pregnant, at least."

"Yeah well- Pregnant?" Laxus did take his steps backwards from her then, nearly falling over a pair of boots he kept by the door. "Are you serious woman?"

"No," she told him honestly. "Dragon. I hardly ever am. You know that."

They had a moment then, between the two of them, where he only stared incrediously at his girlfriend and she smiled warmly up at him, watching his chest jump as he tried to regulate his breathing once more.

"So," he began slowly, "you're not pregnant."

"Not that I know of. And I'm rather in tune with myself."

"And," he kept up, "you're not sick."

"Again, not that I know of."

"Then...why are you here? Mira? During the workday?"

It was her turn to be at least somewhat bashful as, though Mirajane was a naturally rather open person, it was hard at times for her, with men she was so heavily interested in. Especially when it was a draining a love interest as Laxus had been for her as of late. It had felt so whirlwind, only months before, when the pair started to infrequently see one another, but the last few weeks had been quite serious and exclusivity had been tossed around, even, to the seeming acceptance of both parties and…

And…

"I just wanted to be with you. For longer. Laxus." She felt her cheeks heat up in a way they typically didn't. "If that's okay. I mean, if you're busy-"

"I just had to get up early and go to the market," he informed her plainly. "Then this evening I have tentative plans to meet up with Bickslow and Freed for drinks, but-"

"O-Oh, well-"

'If my woman's sick though," he cut her off rather definitively, "then0"

"You don't have to-"

"I'll hang out with them tomorrow night." He closed the gap between them then, not truly smiling, but certainly not looking as glum as he usually did. "I'll run out, tell them something came up, snag us some takeout for dinner-"

"Think you're up for me staying the night again?" she questioned as her hands pressed firmly against his chest and Laxus only loomed over her, his grin more noticeable as she stared up into it.

"Of course," he agreed softly, reaching out with one hand gently run a thumb over her warm, rosy cheek. As she giggled, he added, "But I dunno if you should."

"Why not?"

"I mean," Laxus reminded, "it is, apparently, so hard for you to leave me."

"So hard."

"And I don't want you to skip out on work again tomorrow, just for my sake."

"Of course not."

"So-"

"So," she reasoned, "I guess tomorrow when you get up to hop in the shower, it's going to be with the intention of joining me down at the hall, right?"

"What?"

"Bright and early?"

"Demon-"

"If you get up early enough," she enticed, "I might even let you join mine, dragon."

There was a glint in his eyes then as, leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers and furthered the stakes, "We get up early enough, that nice big bath house up at the guild will be all empty."

"That's true," Mira agreed. "I'll have the women's side all to myself and you'll have the men's-"

"Demon-"

"I just didn't expect to like you this much," she admitted to him softly and, as the blush returned, she had to fall forwards some, so that she could hide her words into his chest. "Laxus. So soon. But I really do."

He took a moment, the slayer did, shocked a bit, maybe, before laughing some as he bowed his head even more and wrapped his arms tightly around the woman.

"Yeah, well," he whispered, "I guess I must be something, you skipping out on your precious guildhall for me."

"Just this once," she promised and she meant it as she finally broke away from him some. A smile returning to her lips, she said, "So I guess we better use this day to our advantage, huh?"

"Yeah." Laxus hand came up again, just to brush a fingertip or two across her soft pale skin. "I guess we better."

[badly-done-indeed]

Austen, Jane. Mansfield Park. Edited by June Sturrock, Broadview Press, 2003. 

Fanny Price, supposedly the heroine of Mansfield Park, often fades into the background and becomes almost as unnoticed as a piece of drawing room furniture. When the narrator bothers to pay her any attention, it is -- especially in the first half of the novel -- usually because another character starts paying attention to her first, rather than because she puts herself forward and asks to be noticed. Here’s an example from chapter 7, a trademark instance of Fanny being ill-used and ignored early in the novel: 

“‘Fanny,’ said Edmund, after looking at her attentively, ‘I am sure you have the headache.’

She could not deny it, but said it was not very bad.

‘I can hardly believe you,’ he replied; ‘I know your looks too well. How long have you had it?’

‘Since a little before dinner. It is nothing but the heat.’

‘Did you go out in the heat?’

‘Go out! to be sure she did,’ said Mrs. Norris: 'would you have her stay within such a fine day as this? Were not we all out? Even your mother was out to-day for above an hour.'

'Yes, indeed, Edmund,' added her ladyship, who had been thoroughly awakened by Mrs. Norris’s sharp reprimand to Fanny; 'I was out above an hour. I sat three-quarters of an hour in the flower-garden, while Fanny cut the roses; and very pleasant it was, I assure you, but very hot. It was shady enough in the alcove, but I declare I quite dreaded the coming home again.'

'Fanny has been cutting roses, has she?'

'Yes, and I am afraid they will be the last this year. Poor thing! She found it hot enough; but they were so full-blown that one could not wait.'

'There was no help for it, certainly,' rejoined Mrs. Norris, in a rather softened voice; 'but I question whether her headache might not be caught then, sister. There is nothing so likely to give it as standing and stooping in a hot sun; but I dare say it will be well to-morrow. Suppose you let her have your aromatic vinegar; I always forget to have mine filled.'

'She has got it,' said Lady Bertram; 'she has had it ever since she came back from your house the second time.'

'What!' cried Edmund; 'has she been walking as well as cutting roses; walking across the hot park to your house, and doing it twice, ma’am? No wonder her head aches.'

Mrs. Norris was talking to Julia, and did not hear.

'I was afraid it would be too much for her,' said Lady Bertram; 'but when the roses were gathered, your aunt wished to have them, and then you know they must be taken home.'

'But were there roses enough to oblige her to go twice?'

'No; but they were to be put into the spare room to dry; and, unluckily, Fanny forgot to lock the door of the room and bring away the key, so she was obliged to go again.'

Edmund got up and walked about the room, saying, 'And could nobody be employed on such an errand but Fanny? Upon my word, ma’am, it has been a very ill-managed business.'” (volume I, chapter 7, pages 98-99)

Let’s unpack what’s happening here. The day has been ungodly hot, and Lady Bertram and Mrs. Norris have been lazing about in the heat, sending Fanny across the park more than once to do their bidding. Fanny does not have what one might call a hearty constitution, and by the time she gets back from her second trip to Mrs. Norris’s house, she’s got a raging headache from the heat. When Edmund and the others return to the house, Fanny seems to have been forgotten, but as soon as she is revealed to be lying down on the couch, she is scolded; Fanny cannot even take up space in her own home without being sharply criticized for it. Her aunt Lady Bertram’s entire personality consists of lolling around on the sofa, napping to ease her fatigue from doing absolutely nothing, but God forbid Fanny rest on the sofa after over-exerting herself doing her aunts’ bidding.

Fanny Price is my least favorite Jane Austen heroine. This is not to say that she does not have value, for certainly she has a place in Jane Austen’s vast literary world, but she does nothing to reserve that place for herself; she lacks backbone and must actively strive to develop it over the course of the novel. I’m not sure where Fanny would be if Edmund didn’t consistently speak up for her to be treated appropriately, as he does in this passage. 

Pictured: Mrs. Norris from Mansfield Park (1999)

[sector-i-closed]

Dark Room

Gang au

Warning: torture, murder, smut and read at your own risk

"LET ME GO!!! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!!!" A man from the rival gang who dared to harm your boss a month earlier screamed at the top of his lungs.

You was in the dimly lit 'dark room'.

The place where captured gangsters from rival gangs were placed to be tortured for any useful information and then disposed of mercifully once the gangsters fessed up what they knew.

You was in here for revenge that you had been hungry for ever since the night that the man (who was sitting in front of you) had shot your boss/lover from behind during gunfire that occurred on your gang's territory.

Hongjoong, your boss, recovered from the wound but you was still hellbent on revenge and finally you succeeded in luring the assailant in, though without your boss's consent.

"Not a chance, bastard!" You growled, drawing another line on the tied up gangster's thigh with your sharp blade.

Red blood oozed from the fresh wound that was neatly lined up with the others that were made in the previous hour and you couldn't stop at just one more.

"Fuck you and YOUR LEADER!!" The gangster squirmed violently, his energy having dwindled until he was only running on adrenaline.

"You'll wish you hadn't said that..." You grinned sadistically.

You had been so absorbed by the work you had been doing you had failed to notice that your boss had silently entered the room earlier, watching you with great interest as you dug your blade into the gangster's skin.

This time you took one of the gangster's fingers into your hand and you sliced the knife to the bone. The man screamed and strained against the ropes that held him as blood spurted onto you, staining your clothing with the warm liquid.

He uttered more harsh profanities as you repeated the the action on his other fingers until they all were sliced open.

You still wasn't done though, moving on up his arms with your knife until there was multiple openings with blood running down his arms.

The gangster appeared to be fading fast since there was more blood on the floor than in his body you thought to yourself.

You watched him as he bled out, going limp in the chair when he drew his final breath.

Satisfied that he was dead now, you cleaned your knife of the blood that stained the gleaming blade with the clothing of the dead man.

"I don't remember giving you permission to use the dark room." Hongjoong purred suddenly out of nowhere.

You jumped, startled because your boss had spoken and now you was nervous about what he might do, especially if he was angry with you. You was unaware of Hongjoong's presence the entire time that you had been torturing the rival gangster.

"Y-you didn't..." You folded the blade of your knife down and pocketed it before you could accidentally drop it and hurt yourself.

Before you knew it your boss had you pressed against the wall, your body caged in with his arms on either side of your head.

Your heart rate went from normal to what seemed like a continuous hammering against your chest.

Hongjoong's eyes were narrowed and his entire face tense as he searched your features, finding you excited and nervous.

"That shit over there could've hurt you, do you understand that?" Hongjoong indicated with his head to the dead man in the chair.

"And I'd be fucked if that happened." His dark eyes looked into yours with intent that chilled your blood.

"I'm s-sorry...I was trying to help, I wanted revenge..." You looked down, heat blossoming in your cheeks while hating how you felt so small around the gang leader.

"Revenge? Now kitten, that was up to me to get revenge in due time. Not for you to decide." He said sternly, using his fingertips to tilt your chin upwards again so that you would look at him.

Your eyes wandered over his features and on down to his neck and the multiple chains that he wore.

For a long moment you distracted yourself by staring at his hardware and then you took in the jacket that he wore...

"I'll be making sure that you remember what your purpose is here and not go fucking up by getting into situations that you don't belong in." Hongjoong still appeared angry.

You inhaled sharply when you felt his hand grasp your throat, tightening before you could vocalize any type of sound.

Your heat clenched in anticipation of more punishment, arousal already staining your panties.

Your lungs burned for more air and you couldn't help moaning in pleasure at the gang leader's touch on your neck.

He wedged his thigh between your legs, rubbing himself roughly against your heat and forcing a moan from your lips.

"You're so fucking irresistible when my hands are wrapped around your neck." Hongjoong growled, releasing you before you could pass out from dizziness.

You whimpered pathetically, still seeing dots in your vision even after fresh oxygen had been inhaled into your lungs.

Hongjoong continued to grind his leg into your sensitive core until he had you crying out for him.

"Pull your pants down, babygirl." He moved away from you, allowing you room to work with pulling your pants and underwear down.

"Bend over for me." You did as you were told, placing your hands on the wall in front of you as Hongjoong stood behind you, taking in the sight of your body arched with your ass positioned high in the air.

"You're such a slut for me, you'll even murder someone for me if I asked you to.

Wouldn't you?" He traced your sensitive nub with painfully light touches.

You moaned in response, your legs shuddering from his teasing touch.

"Your pretty pussy is so wet for me, she wants me to fuck her so bad." Your boss purred before smacking your ass unexpectedly.

The burn radiated from where his hand landed against your skin and you could feel your flesh jiggle from the force of the spank.

"Fuck!" You gasped, feeling your legs grow fatigued from standing in the same position, waiting for Hongjoong to do something to you.

"How many was that?"

"One..." You whispered hoarsely.

"Keep counting for me." He ordered, adding more harsh spanks to your already sensitive ass.

Slaps reverberated through the room, leaving you whining after each touch. After you counted ten spanks Hongjoong stopped.

You panted heavily and begged for him to fuck you, your arousal having reached a peak that prompted your desperation.

To your surprise Hongjoong was already pushing his length inside of your slick, eager hole, quickly bottoming out inside of you and pulling out before you had fully adjusted to the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck please ... Ah fuck..." You moaned out, already missing the feeling of his dick filling your needy heat.

"Gonna fuck you so good you'll think twice about taking matters into your own hands from now on." Hongjoong growled, grabbing your hair and slamming his hips into you, the tip of his dick brushed against your sweet spot and you cried out at the contact.

Your arms were going numb from pressing your hands against the wall, stabilizing yourself as Hongjoong pounded into you.

He gave your hair another tug, turning your head so that he could view your side profile, your eyes screwed shut while your mouth gaped open, moans shamelessly leaving your lips and blending with the sounds of skin briskly slapping against skin.

"Such a pretty bitch. So tight for me." Hongjoong hissed, increasing the pace of his strokes that kept you teetering on the edge.

You felt yourself begin to unravel in the midst of the constant assault on your heat and Hongjoong could tell that you was about to come.

He quickly pulled his dick out of you to try to keep from coming, though your sexual moans didn't help his case.

He came on your ass with a groan, cursing and praising you about how good you looked covered in his cum.

"Please, I need you..." You whined pitifully, feeling empty and the need to come was unbearable.

"I'm not done with you yet." Hongjoong scooped you up in his arms with your pants still hugging your knees, carrying you off to the room that both of you shared for more punishment for you.

[rufousnmacska]

Goodbye and Hello - 7

Manon and Dorian said goodbye in Orynth. But for them, saying hello again is only a matter of time.

fanfic master list (includes the link to my fics on AO3)

Previous chapters:

Part One: I Wish…

Part Two: Another Day

Part Three: Those Two Words

Part Four: Breakfast in Bed

Part Five: Waiting

Part Six: Confessions (smut warning)

***

Part Seven: Old Friends

A knock at his door broke the heavy silence Dorian had been enjoying for the past hour. Flinching at the sound, he left a long streak of ink across the letter he was writing. He swore, and as he tried to sop it up with a handkerchief, a young page stuck her head into the room.

“A visitor, Your Majesty. Lord Westfall suggested you’d want to see him. Even though he has no appointment.”

Dorian smiled. The page, Kalla, was a stickler for etiquette and rules, and he suspected Chaol had employed her specifically for that reason. Dorian was always glad when someone else was on the receiving end of her disapproval. He nodded for her to show the guest in and was surprised to see Aedion enter his office.

Aedion glanced warily at the young woman as he walked past her. “I will be sure to arrange an appointment the next time,” he said in apology, then cringed as the door was closed just a little too loudly.

Dorian stood quickly and came around from behind his desk. “I can get you some bandages for the daggers she just shot at you,” he said, holding out his hand, a little unsure if or how the greeting would be taken. “It’s good to see you Aedion.”

The male gripped Dorian’s hand firmly. “Your Majesty.” His greeting lacked any mockery that might have been there in the past. With a deep laugh, he added, “I think I will survive. Barely.”

Waving towards the back of the room, Dorian offered Aedion a seat next to the large stone hearth. As he sat, Dorian got them each a glass of wine then joined him. Curiosity threatened to overtake him, but he forced himself to be polite and not pepper Aedion with questions. “This is a surprise. I’d thought the winter had already sealed off Terrasen.”

After taking a sip of the wine, Aedion said, “Not quite yet, but soon. We are on our way to visit Eyllwe. A mix of business and pleasure.”

“We?” Dorian prompted.

“Lysandra and Evangeline are with me.” Before Dorian could ask, Aedion said, “We’re taking the slow, scenic route since Evangeline gets seasick. We just got to the city this morning. They’re visiting old friends, so… I thought I’d do the same.”

Dorian had never thought of Aedion as a friend. An ally, yes. At least, since shortly before the war. But they’d never been friendly. He didn’t begrudge Aedion his hatred of Adarlan, or its previous king. He couldn’t even blame the general for disliking him. For far too long, Dorian had sat passively by while his father brutally conquered most of the continent.

Hearing the term now, he studied Aedion. More surprising than his presence and his offer of friendship was his demeanor. He was calm, composed. None of the underlying fire and ferocity that so characterized him before the war. Dorian had no doubt that it was still there, ready to be called upon when needed. But it no longer seemed to simmer just below the surface, threatening to rear its head at the slightest touch.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important,” Aedion said, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. He looked back at the large desk, overrun with stacks of papers.

Dorian thought of the letter he’d been writing. And blushed in a way he hadn’t since he was a young boy. The heat in his cheeks was due to a rather racy book of poetry he’d found the other day in a newly opened book shop. So many of the poems made him think of Manon that he bought the book and was now copying some of the lines into a letter to her.

“Judging from your expression, I did interrupt.” With a grin, Aedion said, “You know, I’d pay good coin to see Manon Blackbeak’s reaction to opening up a love letter.”

The redness grew over his face, but Dorian laughed. “We have that in common then, because I’d pay to see it too.” He knew he was taking a bit of a chance with this letter, especially since none of the others contained anything this risque. If nothing else, he thought she’d laugh. And that was a reaction he’d do anything to see.

“Have you seen her since…Orynth?”

The male’s hesitation was no puzzle. He’d meant to say since the war. Since she’d lost her entire family. Since he’d lost Gavriel.

Dorian hadn’t spent much time with Gavriel. Chaol thought highly of him. And while that certainly added to his opinion, Dorian had already grown to respect and admire the fae male during their time in Skull’s Bay. His quiet strength and steady presence. Dorian realized that was what he was seeing in Aedion now.

“I have actually,” he said. “We just met at the Ferian Gap.” Aedion raised a questioning eyebrow. “About the aerial legion we’re developing.” Those Ashryvver eyes didn’t blink and Dorian felt himself flushing again. “And trade agreements. Borders. All that… stuff.”

Aedion nodded, a smirk sliding across his face. “And you’re following up with some bawdy correspondence to solidify your agreements. And stuff.”

“I fear you know me too well,” Dorian replied, earning a hearty laugh.

Falling quiet, they booth watched the fire for some time. Just as Dorian was about to offer him more wine, Aedion asked, “How is she?”

Again, his meaning was clear, and the concern lacing his words made something warm ache inside Dorian’s chest. He’d gathered as many bits and pieces as he could about those long days of siege and despair in Orynth, understanding nothing he’d been told would do justice to what Manon, Aedion, Lysandra, and their forces had experienced. The fear and fatigue, the loss and grief, the never-ending dread of the army waiting each morning to destroy them.

“She is doing well,” Dorian replied, giving Aedion a grateful smile. “Still adjusting. But she’s keeping busy. Training the new aerial legion is a positive step I think.” Aedion nodded, genuinely glad to hear. “And, how are you?” Dorian asked.

The male’s eyes flicked away, back to the fire. Dorian wasn’t sure if he’d answer, but after a few moments, Aedion said, “Adjusting.” With a quick smile, he added, “It’s good to have the others around though. Lorcan and Fenrys and Rowan. They knew my father the best. They have endless stories.”

A smile crossed Dorian’s face as he thought of what Orghana had told Manon. Stories honor the loved ones we’ve lost. “I imagine you could write a few books of their adventures. I’m sorry you never had the time to know him.” A stirring deep inside prompted him to add, “And, I’m sorry for all my father did to you.”

Aedion met Dorian’s gaze. As before, he was surprised when there was no blaze of emotion. Instead, he was met with the thoughtfulness of an older man. They were all so much older now, he supposed, even though only a few years had passed.

With a slight nod of thanks, Aedion said, “And I’m sorry for blaming you for your father’s deeds.”

“I deserve some of it I think,” he answered, forcing visions of the collar from his mind. And failing.

Dorian had never gathered the courage to ask Aedion about that time. He could have sought out details after the castle was destroyed. But he knew no more than that the general had briefly been imprisoned. Which dredged up some particularly horrific dreams that Dorian couldn’t dismiss as just dreams. The sounds were too clear. The smells too pungent. He’d done those things to real people. Had he done them to Aedion?

As if reading his mind, Aedion said, “You saved me. Do you remember that?”

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“Before Aelin rescued me, I was in the dungeon, dying from an infection. You came to see me.” When Dorian winced, Aedion clarified, “Just that one time. You came to gloat if I remember correctly. I thought you didn’t notice the wound, but just as you left, you ordered a guard to get a healer.” With a grim smile, he added, “Which pissed me off. You screwed up my well laid plans to die before I could be used as bait.”

Huffing out a humorless laugh, Dorian asked, “I saved you so you could be publicly executed?”

“Well,” the general said with a shrug, “yes. But another way of looking at it is that because of you, I lived to see Aelin again.” Growing more serious, he continued, “I knew at the time it wasn’t really you, Dorian. But looking back on it, I can’t help but wonder if there was a piece of you, the real you, responsible for that.”

Dorian looked back to the fire, swallowing hard to contain his emotions, and to keep from arguing with him. To keep from admitting how powerless he’d been against the valg.

“You survived it,” Aedion said. “Just like I survived dark periods of my life. If you can, use it for something good. So it never happens again.”

It was as if the male had been reborn in some way, Dorian thought. Or perhaps, he’d just never been allowed to see this side of Aedion before. Hoping to bring some levity to the conversation, he narrowed his eyes and said, “I’m not sure how I feel about you becoming so…optimistic.”

Aedion laughed, standing to get more wine. “Something else we have in common.” As he walked by Dorian’s desk, he nodded towards it and said, “You should deliver it in person. Surprise her with it.”

Glad the contents of the letter were obscured, Dorian joined him, smiling at the thought of Aedion giving him relationship advice. Not that the male didn’t have expertise in this area. It was just that in matters of love, he’d always placed Aedion in the category of rival. This new friendship was strange indeed. But, happily welcome. Aedion filled his glass and they silently toasted.

“It’d take me forever to fly to the Wastes. Besides, I only just got back from the Ferian Gap a couple of weeks ago. Chaol would throw a fit if I left again.”

“Just use a wyrd gate.”

The wine glass almost fell from Dorian’s hand. “Excuse me?”

“A wyrd gate.” Aedion drew out each word before leisurely emptying his glass.

“Yes, I heard you. What the hell do you mean by it?”

Since Aelin had destroyed the keys and the way between worlds, Dorian had never tried to contact Gavin. He told himself it was because it would no longer work. But part of him was afraid. Despite all he’d been through, all the progress he was making, Dorian was still stung by doubt. Fearful that the old king would look upon him and see nothing but disappointment.

“Aelin used them to bring the Wolf Tribe and fae to the battle.” Face incredulous, he asked, “I thought you knew that?”

Godsdamn him. To hell with friendship, Dorian wanted to strangle the male. No, he wanted to strangle himself for being so stupid. “My gods. I’m a fool,” he moaned, dropping his head into his hand. “I could use them to be with her right now!”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yes!” Dorian growled, his face still covered. Then, after a second or two of thought, he said, “No. I was able to use the wyrd marks to contact Gavin a few times in the afterworld. Is it different to open gates between places in our world? Are the marks different?” He knew they must be, just not how.

“Yes, the marks are different. Aelin taught me how to open a door to a place. Or,” Aedion paused dramatically. “A person.”

Dorian sank down onto his desk, knocking a pile of papers over. “So stupid,” he repeated, as Aedion laughed. The male had the good sense to stop when Dorian shot him a nasty look. Still grinning, he slapped Dorian on the shoulder.

“I can’t speak for other instances, but in this one, you can lighten up on yourself. You’d need to know the entire alphabet to make a door to a specific person or place. And since Aelin barely knew how to do it for that final battle, I’m betting you aren’t fluent in wyrd.”

Dorian nodded in confirmation and released a long, heavy sigh, still angry at himself for never once considering the possibility of using the wyrd marks to visit Manon. Aedion’s assurance didn’t boost his mood. But his next question did.  

“Would you like me to show you how to get to your witch queen?”

 ***

The winds above Blackbeak Keep had always been treacherous. Manon remembered the thrill of riding them as a witchling. The sharp air whipping through her hair, the heart-stopping drops and dives, the rare warm updrafts that carried her into the clouds. Now, with a full grown wyvern instead of an ironwood broom, they were even more dangerous. Behind her, the two Crochan sentinels she’d agreed to bring along were having trouble remaining steady. New to wyverns, the winds threatened to do them in. If she hadn’t been so stubborn and impatient, she would have listened to her great-grandmother and waited until spring to come here.

Signaling to the other witches to follow her, Manon pulled on her reins and guided Abraxos to land.

She shouldn’t have doubted him, high winds or no. He landed smoothly on the largest balcony available, the one that led into the keep’s great hall. The same hall she’d walked through so many times.

As the others landed on either side - clumsily but without injury - she could see herself all those years ago. Strutting between the crowd of whispering Blackbeaks, a new red cloak drapped over her shoulders and a Crochan heart in the box she carried. Her grandmother watching her, unsmiling, sitting like a queen holding court. The memory stood out because at that time, the Ironteeth witches did not have queens.

How had she been so blind? So stupid?

Of course, she had been privy to her grandmother’s ambitions for retaking the Wastes and installing themselves as rulers. But she’d never once considered the lengths to which the matron would go. Allying with valg to destroy the world? And she never truly realized how precarious her own position was until she’d been sliced open by her grandmother’s iron nails.

Blind. She’d been a fool.

This guilt was nothing new. But she should have expected it would hit harder when she’d decided to come here.

The Crochans were waiting for her orders, so she told them to stay on the platform. Scouts had reported that the keep was empty. While that could have changed, Manon wasn’t sure what might be left inside, and the thought of finding Ironteeth trophies with a pair of Crochan witches at her side… It was nothing they needed to see.

Perhaps she’d have the place burnt down after she was done.

The thought eased the tremors inside her chest as she entered the hall. Dark and cold from long dead fireplaces, the place looked foreign. Like something from a bad dream she’d had lifetimes ago. She glanced to the end where the matron’s throne still sat, then turned her nose up at it and continued walking.

Luckily, the keep had not been looted. The few Blackbeaks who’d flown from here to join her grandmother in battle had left quickly. No doubt expecting to return soon, victorious and weighed down with the spoils of war. But that had not happened. So Manon was left alone with a keep still filled with the items of everyday life.

She and the Thirteen had taken the rooms of an entire hallway in the eastern wing, and she was drawn there as if pulled by a thread. Gliding up the stairs, she made no sound save for her thudding heart.

Just at the head of the hallway, she hesitated. Maybe the rest of the place was basically intact, but that was no guarantee that the Thirteen’s rooms hadn’t been ransacked. Especially after they’d left the clan.

There was only one way to find out.

Manon pushed at the first door she came to, Lin’s. Looking inside, she sucked in an icy breath. The room was in disarray. The bed was overturned along with two chests, their clothing strewn across the floor. She could see faded patches on the walls where broad swords and bows would have hung on the now empty pegs and hooks.

The same held true for some of the others’ rooms, and Manon supposed that with so few witches left here when they’d first been summoned to the Ferian Gap and then Morath, only weapons and essentials had been taken. Perhaps her luck would continue.

Slowly, Manon pushed the door open into Ghislaine’s rooms. While the witches had taken the weapons, the books still lining Ghislaine’s walls had been laregly overlooked. Breathing a sigh of relief, Manon walked all the way in and turned in a circle to survey the damage.

Like the others, the room had been trashed. Any weapons or treasure kept here were gone. Instead of bows and swords, shelves covered the walls here. Some books were still upright and in place while others had been pulled off and thrown on the floor. Whoever had searched it had learned quickly that there was nothing useful to war hidden among the shelves.

But the books were the treasure. Then and now.

Manon bent and picked up a few that lay haphazardly against the foot of the bed. Blowing off the coat of dust, she placed them on a table. She had no idea if there would be a book here to interest Dorian. Hell, she had no idea what his reading interests even were. But she was confident she’d know when she found it. So, beginning with the books from the floor, she began to stack them on whatever surface was available, spines out so she could see the title.

It didn’t take her long to find one that might work.

Most of Ghislaine’s books were histories or treatises on magic or nature. There were several on the constellations, a few guides to wildflowers and plants, even a thick volume on the history of the Southern Continent. She sat that one aside for herself. But there were many fictional stories in the mix.

One contained what looked like a variety of myths and legends, each chapter a different story with heroes and heroines, fearsome beasts, and evil villains. As she flipped through the pages, Manon wondered how these tales might compare to her own life story. Another book, surprisingly, appeared to be a romance. She found more, all tucked behind a monster of a book that contained potion recipes. Ghislaine had been smart to hide them. If she’d been caught with these, she’d have seen more trouble than if she’d been caught plotting to take over the clan.

In the end, she had four books she thought Dorian might enjoy, and three for herself. Though, no fun reading for her. They were to help her in her duties as queen.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. All of the books, along with the few odds and ends she’d found in the others’ rooms, were going back home with her. Where they’d serve as the start of a new royal library for the witch kingdom.

It took forever to pack the books and haul them back to where the wyverns were perched. But when they were done, Manon found herself wishing she had more to do. Anything if it meant she didn’t have to enter the one suite of rooms she’d passed by.

Abraxos released a soft howl, as if he knew what she was avoiding. Manon stepped up to let him nuzzle her hand. “I know,” she said. “I need to be brave. Like you.” He replied with a hot breath of air. “Wait here,” she told her sentinels. “I’ll be back soon.”

A few minutes later, she stood outside Asterin’s rooms, hands balled into tight fists to keep from shaking.

Drawing what felt like every ounce of courage she had, Manon opened the door and walked in. Turning in a circle, she took in the room, not much different than the others. A bed, chests of ransacked drawers, racks and hooks that used to hold weapons. In the far corner, a door hung partly open. Forcing herself to breathe, and walk, Manon looked inside.

Old clothing was thrown on the floor of the tiny closet. Even an old pair of boots with the toes worn through. And there, practically hidden in the corner, a dark ironwood broom.

Manon reached slowly for it, wondering if she’d be able to feel Asterin in the object’s magic. When her fingertips brushed over the handle, she realized how silly that notion was. She felt nothing more than a surface polished smooth from decades of use.

Witches were responsible for carving their own brooms upon reaching maturity. It wasn’t until Manon picked up Asterin’s broom and held it in both hands that she remembered this was not her cousin’s first broom.

This one had been made during Asterin’s time with her hunter. When she’d been in love. When she’d been pregnant.

Not for the first time, Manon wished she knew where that cabin was. She had a vague idea, but even that idea encompassed an entire forest. Perhaps it didn’t matter, as she had no body to return to the place Asterin held close to her heart. She had the broom. But she already knew it would be going home with her.

Sitting down on the bed, Manon ran her hands over the handle, admiring its sturdiness, its power. There was a dull pulse of magic to it, as there was to all witch brooms. It just held no distinct sense of Asterin.

“Your Majesty.”

Manon looked up to see one of the sentinels standing in the open door. She made no effort to brush away the tears filling her eyes. The witch made no effort to hide that she’d seen them. Which, strangely, made Manon feel better.

“We’ve loaded the wyverns,” she said in reply to Manon’s encouraging nod. “However, the winds are picking up. Sybil said we should either leave soon or spend the night.”

Standing, Manon said, “We’ll go now. Head back and secure everything. Make sure the books are covered well in case of wet weather. I want to be at the Ferian Gap before nightfall.” The sentinel disappeared and Manon took a final look around Asterin’s room.

Despite the tears, Manon found herself ready to leave. Nothing of Asterin lingered in this place. The same held true for the others. With the possible exception of Ghislaine, who was so connected to her books they were truly a part of her.

She strode down the hall, paying silent respect as she passed each door. Asterin’s broom in one hand, and a small bag in the other. It contained all the remnants she’d found of the Thirteen. A small, sharp arrow head made by Vesta, a worn whetstone used by Sorrel, a wooden figurine of the Three Faced Goddess carved by Imogen. Lin, who so outwardly hated her mother, had kept a miniature portrait of the witch under her mattress. From the Shadow’s rooms, swatches of a dark, two-toned fabric that was clearly enchanted. Fallon and Faline had collected knives, which were, of course, gone. But Manon found sheathes the two must have been making before the last time they’d left the keep. And in Thea and Kaya’s room, a wooden box carved with intricate patterns that fit in the palm of her hand. It was locked, and Manon had no intention of prying it open.

In fact, a part of her felt odd about going through their rooms, even if they had already been largely picked over. But with each item, she’d felt a calm settle over her. Like with the place, these things weren’t her sisters. But they were meaningful parts of the greater whole. All of the things she’d collected were indicative of their owners - some obvious and unsurprising like Vesta’s arrow, others secretive and unknowable like Lin’s portrait.

And Asterin’s broom.

Manon could think of no better reminder to live her fullest life than that.

***

Dorian groaned with exhaustion as he entered his sitting rooms. A full day of meetings with lords and merchant guilds. That alone would have been hell. But he’d had to sit there knowing he could be with Manon in mere seconds.

After learning the spells and symbols to open a wyrd gate, he’d made the mature decision to not leave immediately. He’d had guests after all. Aedion, Lysandra, and Evangeline stayed for two days. Two days that, under other circumstances, would not have felt interminable. By the time they left, he’d become overwhelmed with the nonsense discussed during today’s meetings.

And both Chaol and Yrene had thoughtfully pointed out that walking out of a fire-ringed wyrd gate into Manon’s bedroom might not be the best idea. He’d write to her so she could decide where and when. The letter was already on its way.

But as he walked towards his bedroom, shedding clothes, his finger itched to trace out the marks. He was going over the alphabet in his head as he entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Her scent. It was thick in the air. Warm summer breezes and meadows.

Spinning in a circle and finding the room empty, he ran into the bathing room. Only to find it deserted too.

Back in his bedroom, he noticed something on his bed. A stack of books with a small package on top. It was the only free place to put anything, as every other surface was covered.

Dorian sat the box of pastries aside and examined the four books. Three romances and one collection of fantasy tales. Judging by their wonderful smell, an indescribable book smell he loved, their old age was obvious. A piece of paper fell silently from one and he smiled even before he could read the writing.

Hello princeling,

While I appreciated your gift - especially Qara’s pastries - I prefer our usual greeting and so I thought I’d use my own paper this time.

You may be surprised to know these books belonged to Ghislaine. You knew she was a bookworm of course. But you didn’t know of my plans to return to Blackbeak Keep to retrieve them. I didn’t know it myself until I decided to try and outdo your gift.

Dorian laughed, looking at the books with new appreciation.

I hope I have succeeded. And that the pastries are still fresh. Qara refused to send the recipe. I suppose that means I remain her favorite.

Ghislaine had a small collection, which I plan to use as the start of a royal library here in Morrigna. Perhaps we can schedule an official visit in the spring for you to come and assist with its development?

-Your witchling

P.S. If Altai put this package where I told him to, you need better guards.

To be continued...

***

Note - I hate making up place names. But I grew too lazy to keep calling it Rhiannon’s City. And in the spirit of unity, I think the witches will give it their own name once they are settled (unless it already has some other canon name we were just never told). So I named the witch capital Morrigna. Morrigan is not just a character in the acotar series. She’s also an Irish goddess who is often described as a trio of sisters called the Morrigna. So...kind of like a three-faced goddess?? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m not sure how it’s pronounced exactly, but I thought the symbolism was cool. 

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be tagged (or untagged, no offense taken) on future manorian fics, let me know.

@itach-i  @nestasbucket  @manontrashbeak  @blackhavilliard @chloe123love607 @bookishwitchling @jimetg98  @mis-lil-red  @sierrareads @yourfacesickens-me @awesomelena555  @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies

[xathia-89]

Long Lost Sibling - Kenshin

I was still trying to process the past day as I was sat with my husky dog between my legs in the most unladylike manner possible. I had started off in Kyoto, I was there as part of the recruitment team who were attending a job fayre at the local university. Most people wouldn’t think about joining the military to do anything non-combat based, but when you bring my absolutely adorable, albeit mostly useless, k9 partner into things, it’s a good attraction point. I hadn’t kept track of any sign ups or further information requests, I was just there to make sure Shin didn’t go on the hunt for anything sweet based. It was a nightmare enough that the only sugary items I could ever keep around me were the sour candies I was known for, mostly because he couldn’t stand them.

It was a long story as to how I ended up with a k9 partner in the first place, as officially, I shouldn’t have had him. I worked as a vet with additional duties as a dog trainer. I trained Shin, and he passed everything with just about perfect marks. But then he wouldn’t leave me, every person who he was assigned to, kept complaining he wouldn’t listen to their commands or do as he was trained to. So I’d end up reassessing him, and everything would be fine until one of our superiors decided to get a colleague of mine to try. Turns out that Shin had gotten more than a little attached to me, and had worked out that if he didn’t do what he was meant to, then he would be brought back to see me. Strings were pulled, and I made a really strong case for the fact that I could be in the middle of surgery in the battlefield and the enemy could attack, and a ‘one-off’ was made for Shin and me. I hadn’t told anyone how I had named that particular bunch of dogs since I knew they’d just make fun of me for being so obsessed with such an old school era of history. Every dog in Shin’s class had been named after a Sengoku warlord, and Shin was named after Kenshin Uesugi because of the heterochromia which just struck me as something that reminded me of that particular warlord.

I was sat in 1582, in a kimono of all things, in a room in Azuchi castle after saving Nobunaga from the flames of Honno-Ji. I had met every warlord I had studied at school, and I was in awe a little. This just had to be a dream, until Sasuke re-introduced himself as the original reason we had arrived here. Shin practically bowled him over and started licking his face in greeting, a complete 180 from the lead up to the wormhole. He was a ninja, and I’d already summarised that he worked for the enemy judging from his need to enter my room through the ceiling. He gave me a slight smile and said he had to remember that I worked for the military and said that it was likely to be best if we kept it quiet that we came from the future. I asked about dogs in this era of Japan since Hideyoshi had decided that Shin was a wolf who was fully prepared to kill Nobunaga, and the staff still weren’t convinced he wasn’t going to go feral and kill them all in an instant. He reminded me that pets weren’t always that much of a thing for some time before letting me know that he’d try to keep in regular touch after advising me to get to know the warlords around me before our three months were up.

For a few days, everyone kept their distance. It was impossible to track down Hideyoshi to find out what I was meant to be doing as Chatelaine, and all of the staff were still terrified of Shin. Then I spotted Mitsunari in the library and noticed that he clearly hadn’t moved lately.

I tapped the angel on the shoulder, then pulled on his cowlick before resorting to pulling the book out of his hands to get his attention.

“Oh, Lady Natsuki,” his smile would cure anything, I was sure of that. “Is there something I can help with?”

“Yes, we’re going on a walk, it will do you some good,” I replied, already pulling the man to his feet.

“But what about your duties?” He stammered as I linked my arm through his, a blush peppering his cheeks.

“I can’t find Hideyoshi to know what they are, and I could tell from how you were sat that you hadn’t moved in too long,” I snorted. Shin was barking excitedly and bounding ahead of us. “You can show me around the gardens, it’s too nice of a day to be spent hunting out Hideyoshi,” I smiled. “Plus he’ll probably come and find us if he can’t find you,” I added on.

As I predicted, it took about an hour or so, but the vassal was storming through the grounds and practically foaming at the mouth. We were in the middle of a discussion on battlefield strategies, when he dove between us, with an especially heated glared at me.

“I think I won that bet,” I smiled at Mitsunari, who was struggling not to laugh at his Lord’s actions. “You owe me a trip out to the teahouse.”

Shin came bouncing over and started to lick Toyotomi’s face vigorously. It startled the man, and I was struggling to remove the giant puppy from one of the most dangerous men in this era while giggling furiously.

“You haven’t been near any fruits, have you?” I asked, trying to keep my dog out of harm’s way.

“I came through the kitchens, they’ve probably had some in,” the vassal grumbled. “What are you two doing anyway?”

“I couldn’t find you, then I noticed Mitsunari in the library and it looked like he hadn’t moved for a while since there was dust settling around him, so I decided to bring him out for a walk and some fresh air. I then bet him a date to the teahouse that you would find out he’s missing and come out looking for us, while he said you wouldn’t,” I shrugged. “Anyway, did you want one of us for something?”

“Masamune has dinner ready, so I was looking for Mitsunari to make sure he ate something,” Hideyoshi frowned. “And knowing him, there’ll be enough for you as well.”

“Or I could just go and bother the kitchen staff, “I brushed off, “Let me know when you’re free Mitsunari,” I smiled, calling for Shin to follow me to the kitchens.

I was a little surprised to find that I was being summoned to a war council, and even more so to find out that they had realised I was able to help out Ieyasu in the medical department. Mitsunari announced my talents with such an innocent smile that I couldn’t even try to be mad at him. Though Nobunaga did then announce, I was also going as his good luck charm, to which my good mood vanished. I was merely a trophy to parade it seemed, I just had other uses, as well as I, gritted my teeth behind my neutral mask.

It was then another fight with Hideyoshi to not leave my dog behind.

“No, you’re not bringing it with us!” Toyotomi yelled as I appeared to leave.

“He’ll follow me,” I argued, folding my arms as everyone else looked on in amusement. “So he might as well be incorporated into the whole thing because this is exactly what he was trained to do is protect me on the battlefield from any of the enemy sneaking up on me in the middle of surgery!” I snapped, my voice getting progressively louder.

“If he’s just going to follow then you might as well just let her have her way,” Date chuckled as Oda smirked at the scene. I scoffed and ignored Nobunaga’s outstretched hand while mounting behind him on the horse.

I was glad to reach the designated spot and be able to busy myself away from the warlords. Well, I had to stay with Ieyasu, but we never spoke to each other, there just wasn’t a need unless it was to determine if something was missing from the medical kits. Hideyoshi was continually glaring at me, though Shin was doing as I had already predicted and just sat at my feet as we finished sorting out the medical tent that was also doubling up as my tent. At least if it didn’t look like there was anyone else in the camp, then it would make me less of an obvious target. I had to smile at my past memories of being on tour, and that I had thought fatigues were terrible. I had to keep myself prepped in a kimono here, I had been toying with the idea of designing my own outfit and heading for my preferred dress style of trousers, maybe even going for something similar to what Sasuke wore.

I turned my head at the sound of the tent flap lifting and smiled as it turned out to be Mitsunari.

“The battle starts at first light,” his serious tone made my smile dip a little. It was making me want to do anything to change his expression for some reason. “The scouts have already left, and Lord Nobunaga has decided that you are staying here at first with Ieyasu,” he explained.

“I’m sure Ieyasu isn’t pleased with that decision,” I commented.

“He did say he wasn’t here to play babysitter, but I get the feeling you can look after yourself,” he replied.

“I’m glad for the vote of confidence,” I patted his cheek. “Go and rest up, I’ll get something to eat and put this dope on guard duty,” I smiled, ruffling Shin’s fur as his ears perked up at the mention of food.

Seeing how enthusiastic the troops were on their return from the battle made me nostalgic in some ways. I had to admire the warlords for their leadership. In my experience, the generals would sit back and instruct the pawns, while these insane idiots would lead the charge. I was curious about how battle worked, but I was needed too much on the medical front to slip away for some views. Especially once Ieyasu told me he was leaving me in charge of the camp and mounted his own horse to go and join the fight. I was jealous in some aspect that I couldn’t do the same. I was dabbing at a sword wound to Nobunaga’s arm when Date was yelling and mounting his horse in a fury.

“Hold up!” Hideyoshi yelled, pulling on the reigns of the horse as we all emerged to the scene. Shin was sniffing the air in curiosity, and I wasn’t sure what was going on.

“My scouts are missing,” Masamune snapped. “I need to go and find them,” he growled as I was struggling to now restrain a very determined husky dog from leaping through the gates.

I fell face first onto the floor as Shin barked excitedly and dashed off quicker than I could react. I heard them shouting my name before I was hitched up by the obi onto Date’s horse as he thundered up to me. I was grateful that he didn’t turn around, instead of catching up to the dog in time for us to see two horses galloping towards us. Shin couldn’t contain himself and started yapping happily at the feet of the man I didn’t recognise. Sasuke was on the horse next to the unknown male, but there was definitely battle in his eyes.

Masamune was shocked as I pulled a short sword out from my sleeve and blocked his attack on the other male as the ninja stopped his Lord from doing the same.

“No wonder you took off without a second thought lass,” he muttered, though his glare was now on the snowy-white haired male astride the horse opposite. “What have you done with them?” He snapped.

“What are you talking about? You’ve taken ours,” the other male accused as I shared a look with Sasuke.

“Are you missing some scouts as well?” I asked, interrupting the inevitable from Date.

“Some ninjas,” the astrophysicist replied.

I dismounted the horse, much to Masamune’s displeasure, I had the feeling he was enjoying having me that close to him. I then managed to wrestle Shin back into my arms after a long battle, and some bribery as I pulled a few dog treats out from my obi.

“I have an idea,” I announced to the warlords. “Masamune, go and get some clothing that belongs to our missing scouts, Sasuke, if you could get the same from your missing ninjas,” I smiled. “I think Shin should be able to track them.”

This had always been a party trick at Azuchi, so Date looked surprised to see me effectively proposing a game at such a time.

“It’s not a game this time,” I promised. “I’ll wait here, with my dog and sword and you two go and fetch the things,” I smiled.

Sasuke had already left by the time I finished my sentence, and I gave Masamune a look as the other warlord dismounted his horse to get a closer look at my utterly inappropriate dog. It was a tense silence as Date galloped off, I had no idea who I was with, but Shin was obsessed with the man as the dog leapt from my arms and knocked him flat on the floor before licking his face enthusiastically.

“I am so sorry!” I gasped, trying to pull the husky off the warlord.

“What kind of wolf is this?” He grunted, finally sitting up as I managed to get Shin under my control.

“He’s not a wolf, he’s a dog,” I corrected him. “He normally hates people, so I don’t get why he’s so friendly with you,” I apologised as Shin started licking my face. “Yes, you’re a giant puppy and useless at times like this,” I snorted, fussing the dog a little roughly.

“Who are you anyway, and who brings a woman onto the battlefield?” The man frowned, eyeing me up and down.

“She’s their healer,” Sasuke interrupted. “And this is Lord Kenshin since I know he wouldn’t have introduced himself,” the ninja smiled and dismounted to put himself on our level.

He looked surprised as I bowed politely to the warlord while Masamune arrived back at double pace.

I collected all the scraps of fabric and got Shin’s attention with the last dog treat I had in my obi, ignoring the comments from Date about what I had hidden on my person. Then I bolted after him as he dashed through the forest. I left the men in the dust, I could keep track at first, but dogs have a much better stamina than humans as I made sure to keep track of the blips of white and the visible dog tracks that he left as he tore through the woods.

I was hoisted up again by the obi, though I was surprised to see it was Kenshin this time on his horse as I issued the directions of the fleeing dog. There wasn’t any need for further discussion as we practically fell over the husky who was loitering on the outskirts of a clearing. He knew how to stick to the shadows as we waited for Sasuke and Date to catch up. The missing ninjas and scouts were all tied up, while they had men guarding them.

“Kennyo’s men,” Masamune muttered from our hiding spot. “Natsuki, stay here,” he grumbled before dashing straight in for a fight.

Kenshin was following the mad man instantly before I shared a look with Sasuke, and I promptly ignored the one instruction I’d been given.

Most of the former monks were facing Kenshin and Masamune, as I took them out by the backs of their knees and ankles. I figured there was going to be a lot of questioning to be done, and it was impossible to ask the dead what the plan had been.

“Natsuki!” Date scolded me as I took out a man aiming for his head.

“I took your advice and ignored it,” I laughed, swinging my blade across the side of a man’s knee who thought I could be an easy target as Shin dragged him to the floor by his arm before I kicked him in the jaw to put him down for a nap.

“How are we getting them all back then?” I paused, looking at the underlings that were now all tied up as the ninjas and scouts were looking intrigued about the rescue party.

“Well, which camp are we taking them to is the best question,” Date replied, stiffly eyeing up Uesugi.

“I believe yours is closer than ours,” he formally replied. “The woman will ride with me,” Kenshin instructed.

“The woman has a name,” I sarcastically added on.

“Natsuki is an Oda Princess, she’s not about to ride with an enemy warlord,” Masamune argued.

“How about I ride with Kenshin, and Sasuke goes with you,” I interrupted. “Masamune will lead the way, and we will take up the rear.”

“I like it when you get bossy lass,” Date chuckled, and gave me a peck on the cheek before I could slap him away.

“It’s an appropriate compromise,” I stated and glared at the one-eyed dragon as the ninjas and scouts arranged themselves accordingly before I went to hoist myself onto Kenshin’s horse.

He surprised me as I was then sat firmly in his arms when I had gone to sit behind him. “I’d like to keep you where I can see you,” he firmly said.

“My short swords are up my sleeves,” I shrugged but offered no physical resistance as we set off. Shin was trotting along at the side of us, looking very proud of himself for some reason as I was pondering if I had any more treats in my tent.

“Natsuki!” Hideyoshi was already running up to us with a telling off of the century all prepared for me.

“What rule did I break that I wasn’t aware of this time?” I snapped as Kenshin helped me to dismount.

I paused as I got my first good look at the enemy warlord in some light, and I felt the camp held its breath along with me. Uesugi was wide-eyed while facing me.

“Natsuki, you look just like Kenshin,” Mitsunari broke the silent spell that had been woven.

Hideyoshi had me in a headlock, while Shin was now attacking his legs while I was struggling and trying to punch him where no male liked to be hurt. Mitsunari was pulling on his Lord as Kenshin had his arms around my waist. Nobunaga was stunned to see the chaos as Masamune was trying to figure out where to get involved, and Sasuke was trying to restrain my husky.

Uesugi wouldn’t let go of my waist as we all went flying in different directions. Shin was growling at Hideyoshi as the ninja had gotten him pinned to the floor finally while Mitsunari and Ieyasu had Toyotomi restrained with his arms held behind his back.

All of the Oda forces were staring at Kenshin and me with slack jaws.

“You really can’t tell me they aren’t related,” Hideyoshi growled.

“There’s a resemblance, yes, it doesn’t mean I’m a spy,” I snapped back, still trying to get out of Uesugi’s hold. “Since when have I done anything to warrant your hostility?”

“She’s had every opportunity Hideyoshi, and she’s done nothing but prove her worth,” Nobunaga gave a warning to his vassal. “Kenshin,” Oda’s tone made me freeze but caused the man holding me to look his enemy in the eye finally. “You had a sister that went missing a long time ago.”

“Natsuki,” he breathed, as my dreams flickered through my head. A young boy with the same mismatched eyes as mine, holding his hand out and telling me to come home while we were stood in a meadow under the moonlight. A slightly older version was scolding my stance as I picked up a short sword, and then correcting it diligently.

“I believe there is some catching up to be done by you both,” Nobunaga shrugged. “Until we leave the battlefield, then I believe there is an adequate amount of time to do so.”

“She’s an Uesugi Princess, she returns with me,” Kenshin corrected him as I came to my senses.

“I’ll go where I like thank you both,” I interrupted. “Now, seeing as both of you had soldiers captured by Kennyo, wouldn’t it be safe to say you both need to work together to get him before you two start arguing again?”

“I hate it when she has a point,” I heard Hideyoshi mutter under his breath.

Mitsunari couldn’t stop checking on Natsuki from a distance at the very least. She had been sat with Kenshin next to a fire all morning, just talking to him as the rest of the camp gathered itself together. There had been moments where it seemed that the soldiers were taking their time just to give the Princess some more time with her brother. In broad daylight, and seeing them next to each other, it was more than a little obvious.

“Mitsunari?” Hideyoshi frowned. “You’ve been watching them a lot.”

“I can’t figure out this feeling,” the vassal admitted to his Lord. “I don’t want to let her go anywhere. My chest feels heavy just to see her with another man in such close quarters.”

Toyotomi paused and hung his head. “That’s love, Mitsunari,” he smiled weakly at the silver-haired male before patting him on the shoulder.

Nobunaga was insistent that I ride back to Azuchi with him, and in his arms instead of behind him. He gave me a look that said I wasn’t going to persuade him otherwise, though it was just so I could sleep since I had been up most of the previous night. Shin was starting to lag behind, so one of the aides snuck him onto one of the carts carrying some of the medical supplies. He was tired since he didn’t try to get back off once, and instead just went to sleep as Oda tapped me on the nose and told me off for fighting sleep.

The Uesugi-Takeda forces would be arriving in Azuchi once they had regrouped and resupplied themselves at Echigo. And I was going to have a hectic time as the mediator.

War councils were officially my least favourite things. I had run out of sour candies to go with my sake, though unfortunately for my brother, I had found that pickled plums were nearly as good and the only adequate substitute so far. Both of us reached for the last one in the middle of one of Mitsunari’s reports, and then locked eyes.

“I’ll fight you for it,” I smirked.

I could hear the bets being placed as I parried off Kenshin’s single blade against my dual short swords. I ducked under his arms, but neither of us seemed to be getting the upper hand as I was going to sneak attack from Shin to get the advantage.

“Hey,” I frowned, leaning over to an empty bowl, and a very innocent looking husky. “Ugh, he had it,” I pouted, losing all interest now in the fight and sheathing my swords.

“If anyone thought you two weren’t related, then we should just refer to this moment in time,” Sasuke smiled.

He had spent a lot of time with me explaining the wormholes, I had fallen through one to get to the modern era, and they had been trying to ‘capture’ me for a while as dates and experiences were plotted on a map where I had been deployed to. Something had obviously decided I wasn’t where I needed to be to grow up safely, Kenshin hated the sound of the future when it had all been explained to him as well, but he said that he was glad I was safe after all this time even if it hadn’t been him who had been protecting me.

Kennyo had sent spies to Azuchi recently, though Shin had been very busy with me on patrols. He knew what scent to go after, and had me running to corner some of Kennyo’s followers up trees. The barking would alert the guards, and they’d bring plenty of rope. The dungeons were getting pretty full, and it was going to be soon that the former Abbott came to investigate.

I found it endearing that Mitsunari would like to accompany me on these patrols. He was constantly asking about where I grew up and seemed to understand the concept of wormholes a lot quicker than I did as I explained how I had arrived at Honno-Ji.

I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me just on the outskirts of the woods. It was so fiery and passionate, I couldn’t comprehend how the man could appear so composed with all of that going on underneath. He looked slightly embarrassed until I pulled the collar of his coat, so he was back on my level for a second one.

My short sword was out before we finished the kiss and stopping my brother from slicing Ishida in half. I gave Kenshin a judgemental look as Mitsunari was trying to establish what was going to happen next.

“Kennyo’s on the move, so I came to find you to tell you to pack,” Kenshin grumbled, glaring at Mitsunari as I started laughing. “And Oda agreed that you’re riding with me,” my brother glared.

“I’m not going anywhere until you turn around and stop threatening Mitsunari,” I argued, promptly turning my brother about to stop the warlord from getting distracted. “We deal with Kennyo first, then you can go back to murdering Nobunaga,” I grinned, enjoying the feeling of having a proper family for the first time in a long while.

“Nobunaga isn’t the one kissing you,” Kenshin shortly replied, hooking my arm through his and dragging me off as I waved and smiled broadly at the silver-haired angel who was struggling to keep up in the rampaging path that my brother was leaving.

Gossip was the only thing that moved quicker than my angry brother. The maids were all winking at me as we passed them, especially as Mitsunari came trailing after us as the castle was preparing to go to war. I was grinning like an idiot, and I knew it as I made sure I had everything I would need before going to see if Ieyasu needed any help with the medical supplies.

It was endearing me that Kenshin was acting in such an overprotective manner, it was a rivalry that only the vigour that Hideyoshi protected Nobunaga with could compete. Mitsunari would often end up staring at me as we travelled to the planned camp, and then I’d end up under a haori, or Kenshin would turn his horse around to fake needing to talk to Shingen or Sasuke. And it was blatantly obvious what was going on to the warlords around us. Once we set up camp, and light had broken, then it was a two prong attack on Kennyo with the objective of capturing him rather than killing, which did surprise me. Then again, I assumed the kitsune of the Oda forces would have some questions for the former Abbott. I was naturally to stay at the camp which I couldn’t resist doing an eye roll towards, which Masamune was laughing about while Hideyoshi was glaring at us both. Then Kenshin pointed out that I didn’t have any armour, Nobunaga didn’t appreciate the retort that it was only because I hadn’t been given any.

Shin had attached himself to my brother nearly as much as he was to me. When both of us were in separate places, it wasn’t that uncommon to have a husky running riot as he couldn’t decide who to try and ‘protect’ more. He whined as I had to practically push him out of the camp to go with Kenshin, though as soon as they shoved a rag with Kennyo’s smell on it, he bolted and the warlords followed on their horses.

It was mostly a waiting game until someone broke into the camp and set off the minimal guards that had been left.

“Princess!” Was my sole moment of warning before my swords locked into contact with a staff.

I wasn’t given any reprieve, and the man was trying to batter me into the ground using sheer force. I wasn’t as strong as he was, but I wasn’t as strong as any of the warlords. I was nimbler, and I was used to fighting against men who had the physical advantage. My trick was to use their own power and swings against them. It was my speciality to find the chinks in their armour as my dog came bounding through the campsite, barking his head off.

If I hadn’t been locked in battle and swinging one of my swords up to try and get Kennyo in the side, then I would likely have been laughing at the warlords’ expressions of disbelief. Instead, I was dodging the next blow that was aimed for my head as I swung myself out of the front line of his attack, and Shin finally joined in as the warlords made sure that Kennyo couldn’t escape the camp at any point before coming to my rescue.

“I think I need some training,” I grumbled as Ieyasu patched me up. My kimono was torn in more than a few places, and both Mitsunari and Kennyo were blocked the majority of anyone from seeing me, so I imagine that it looked indecent to them.

“I’m certain that you shouldn’t even be here,” Kenshin frowned. “Nevermind fighting off anyone like that,” he scoffed.

I was surprised to see Mitsunari wearing a similar expression to my brother as I glanced upwards. “Look, at least get me fitted for some armour if you’re going to insist on bringing me anywhere,” I argued. “And let me design something that’s easier to move about in then a kimono,” I grumbled bitterly.

“She’s got a point,” Ieyasu interrupted before either of them could say anymore. “She’s never been here by choice, and fighting is attracted to her, probably because of who she is. so get her outfitted properly and get her armoured and she’ll be able to protect herself, so no one else needs to do it for her.”

“I’m certain that Masamune would help me regardless of what either of you say,” I beamed brightly before I was promptly dragged back to the tent to get changed by Mitsunari while I laughed maniacally.

[solcheeky]

unwind

summary: jung jaehyun has the hands of a god and kisses like the devil. and you’re all but subject to him. (3k)

genre: college!au, fluff, smut? warnings: mature content, suggestive, language a/n: idk how to categorize this since its not technically a smut. honestly it’s just a nonexistent plot-line with make-outs and insinuations of sex

“What are you doing here?” Your face contorts at the sight of your boyfriend standing—uninvited—at your door.

“A little birdie told me you were still working,” Jaehyun gives you a squishy cheeked smile. His notorious dimples and fluffy bed-head hair effortlessly stirring a gentle flutter in your chest.

“And it’s midnight,” Jaehyun breaks eye contact with you, his gaze falling on whatever seemed to be on your face, “so I came round to.. check up on you...” And for a second, you worry about his distracted stare and tilt of his head, wondering whether you’ve embarrassed yourself with crumbs on your face or dried toothpaste. But like always, Jaehyun reads your mind and laughs a little at your cute puzzling stare.

“No, you got pen here.” Thoughts stumbling past his pretty lips as he quickly swipes his thumb over his tongue before carefully rubbing the mark off your cheek.

Jaehyun had always been like this you know, his ways of showing how much he was so absolutely in love with you always so subtle yet sophisticated. It was the reason why you were so absolutely in love with him.

Jaehyun gently pushes your hair behind your ears with his pretty fingers then draws his palm back to your cheek, thumb delicately stroking the reddening apples of your cheeks.

You hate that he has the ability to make your heart swell over such trivial things.

“Thanks. But you can tell Yuta, your little birdie, to stop worrying about me.” You push his wrist to the side knowing all too well you’d melt into a puddle if he held your face any longer. “Especially since he likes to act as if he doesn’t care at all.”

“You know what Yuta’s like.”

“And you. I know what you’re like.”

Jaehyun quirks a brow at you as if he has no clue what you’re talking about. Which is an overt lie. You both know what ends up happening when he insists on helping you with work.

“I really just want to finish up some work tonight. For real this time.” The distressed knot between your eyebrows telling him how serious you were. “You can come and distract me tomorrow.”

Jaehyun’s bottom lip pokes out in a pout, “So you’re not going to let me in?”

You give a him dry look.

“I won’t say anything,” his words incredibly unconvincing, “I promise I’ll just stay on your bed. Then he pretends to zip up his lips, lock them with a fake key and throw it into thin air. You try to hide a giggle at his sweet, humble smile with an eye-roll.

“First of all, I’m on my bed.” You fold your arms over your chest, “if I’m on my bed you can’t be on my bed.” 

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

Jaehyun breathes a laugh into your hair as he briefly kisses your temple, clearly not taking your response seriously at all. He knew you were going to let him in the moment you opened the door, your silly eye-rolls and crossed arms were never enough to cover up the truth bared by your rosy cheeks.

“Says me Jaehyun,” you repeat, “the one aware of your nonexistent self-control.” But your words never seem to reach his ears because before you know it, he’s already brushed past the barrier of your body and strolled into your dimly lit room.

There’s paper splayed all over your bed, scattered like confetti around your laptop that’s sunk into the middle of the mattress. At the sore sight, your boyfriend peers over his shoulder at you disapprovingly.

“What?” Your tone challenging the shake of his head. “You don’t get to judge me for actually doing work.”

You watch as he moves some sheets to the side and places some closed textbooks on top the pile you had already accumulated on the floor. Then he grins up at you once he’s made himself comfy amongst your mess, back leaning against the wall with his legs spread open.

“Come here.” He pats the space between his legs. “Let me keep you company.”

At first, you’re reluctant, but when his lips press together in that soft dimpled smile, you can’t help but give in. And soon enough, Jaehyun’s arms are loosely guiding you from around your waist to help you settle snugly between his thighs as you pull your laptop onto your lap. He waits till you’re content before he pulls you closer into his arms in a brief hug, chest flushing against your back and nose nuzzling into your hair. You fall drunk at his sinfully sweet fragrance all over again.

That was all you needed, a simple hug from the one who made your heart sore; it was all that it took to release the tension in your shoulders and clear your mind.

You feel Jaehyun grin against your neck. “Told you.”

“Fine.” You consider yourself lucky that he couldn’t see the stupid enamored smile you had plastered on your face. “Now let me work.”

And just like he had promised, Jaehyun stayed quiet, letting you type away for little longer and stay focused on whatever you needed to do. He had given you the space you needed with his arms now loosely draped around your hips and chest no longer flushed into yours.

Until— “Jaehyun.” The tone of your voice is stern. 

“Yes?” He whispers ever so innocently against your hot skin as if he hadn’t just kissed the back of your neck.

“I’m not done yet.”

“I know. But you’re overworking yourself.”

A sigh is your only response. Because you know he’s right. You just hate to admit it. But undeniably, you were exhausted. The frequent sighs that had left your lips every time you rolled your neck around in stress was just the beginning of the display of fatigue manifesting across your body.

“It’s been long enough,” Jaehyun slips one arm away from your waist to brush your hair away from the nape of your neck so he could press his soft lips against your bare skin. “You need to take a break.”

However, as much you wanted to say yes, a small part of you wasn’t ready to give up. You were so close to the end. Your day full of research after research after research, and nose deep in dusted books wouldn’t be worth it if you couldn’t end it fully accomplished. You had worked through so much! Drinking endless coffees to stop your heavy eyelids from closing after every boring sentence in every boring book you had used—the campus librarian probably thinks you work in the library since you’re there so much.

Yet, that was all the more reason why Jaehyun knew you deserved this.

Your breath hitches when he seals his lips over another spot on the column of your neck.

“Jaehyun you were so good for the past few hours.” You try to refocus on the screen of your laptop. “Just a little longer please?” But contrary to your pleads, your words fall thin and are hiccuped by weightless sighs. 

“And so were you,” Jaehyun’s words are like honey, spilling over your skin and sweetly unraveling every little part of you. “You were so good baby, so good.” He plants a soft kiss onto your nape. “You deserve a break.”

Powerless, your eyes flutter closed when you feel his lips latch back onto the side of your neck, your head lulling back onto his shoulder when he sucks a little harder, his tongue doing wonders in the one spot he knows makes you weak.

His name can’t leave your lips without an airy sigh. “My.. My laptop Jae...”

“I got you baby.” He pulls the laptop off your thighs and pushes some paper away to make just enough room for you to lie down flat on your stomach.

Jaehyun knees straddle either side of your hips and his pretty fingers wander up under the hem of your top to press into your lower back.

A stammering sigh tumbles past your lips when his thumbs push harder into the dimples of your back massaging circles across your skin in attempt to rid the knots tied in your tensed muscles.

“Jaehyun…” You don’t mean for his name to come out so prurient.

A hum rumbles from his throat in response.

“What… are you.. What are you doing?”

“Helping you relax.” He says adding more pressure into your back again, a sigh escaping your throat when he rubs circles higher up your waist.

It was unexpected to say the least; his skillful hands finding their way to every knot under your skin in a stress relieving massage. Just like the smooth tug of a ribbon bow slipping free from its shape, each rounding circle of Jaehyun’s thumbs effortlessly pulled you into a dazed state of mind.

“Can I take this off?” You feel Jaehyun tug at your top. So you nod eagerly, unable to speak without stammering from the dizzying high of his fingers rendering you into a pool of molten heat.

“Okay, arms up.”

And you obey.

Carefully, Jaehyun pulls your top upwards, the desire in his heart to mark every little part of your exposed back bursting like a flame at the tip of his ears.

“God you’re so pretty.” He thinks out loud at the pleasant surprise of your bare back, your choice of wearing no bra stirring thoughts of how many ways he could make you feel so good. If only he could stop time and cherish this moment of you forever. Where you lay await for him, and for him only; your breath fumbling ungodly whispers of his name and cheeks flushing at his every touch. Only you could create this perfect storm of emotions burning in Jaehyun’s chest, every single bit of him wanting to devour you and give you the love he knew you deserved.

Jaehyun slips your top higher till it reaches the end of your arms and pulls your wrists together, the stretch in position allowing his wet lips to find their way back onto the nape of your neck. One of his hands holds your bare waist, gripping fingers guiding the back of your hips into his, the other is in a fist, bunching up the fabric of the shirt that clung around your wrists. All the while his lips heavenly mark the side of your neck.

Your heart stumbles in your chest at the blossoming bruises Jaehyun litters all over your skin. He knew how to work your body like the back of his hand. With such ease, your body dissolves at the tickling brush of the tip of his nose against the space under your jaw and you know there was no turning back now. 

The sheets under your gripping fingers crease heavily as he flitters entrancing kisses down the dip of your shoulders, and when he sinks his teeth into your skin, a muffled groan erupts from the back of your throat and drowns into the depth your mattress.

His hands still fixed, Jaehyun lifts his mouth away from your bruised shoulder to press a small peck onto your shoulder-blade beneath. Fingers at your shirt finally unclasp the wrinkled fabric and leave it slack around your wrists in order to affectionately interlock fingers with yours through the back of your hand.

“Let me take care of you.” His lips linger over your tasteful skin as he gives the back of your hand an assuring squeeze. “Just relax.”

You comply so easily, humming in agreement as you let his honey-like words take over every atom in your body.

For a moment, Jaehyun’s nose stays buried in your back, his heart filled with a desire to savor the heavy ocean of your heated aroma. If he couldn’t stop time he could at least slow down and take a moment to revel in you. 

And that was completely fine because it was almost embarrassing how hard your heart was thumping your chest. He had descended you into pleasure so quickly that boring essay of yours had slipped from your mind as a whole and was replaced with a storm of indecent thoughts.

Likewise, Jaehyun was absolutely hooked. As with every hot contact, his body grew more reluctant to listen to his brain; he could barely seem to pull away from your heated glamor at all. You were like a pool on a hot summer day he had only taken a dip into—just the tiniest taste—and every part of him ached to drown in the rest of your physical indulgence.

You were so tempting, so delicious, he had to force himself to tear apart from you. 

His panting breath lingered down the pebbles of your spine and the tip of his nose left a glimmering trail of goosebumps as he took all the time in the world to sit himself up again. Through his lashes, Jaehyun gazes down at you, heart overwhelmed at the sight of your flushed body.

Christ, how did he get so lucky?

Jaehyun loved you so so much. And he would give you the whole world if he could. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how much you deserved and how much he knew you needed this. So he took it slow; thumbs kneading into the dimples of your back massaging higher and higher till he reached the dip between your shoulder-blades.

God, it felt so good.

So good, you don’t even know how much time passed from when Jaehyun first started his massage. Time simply slips through your fingers fleetingly as you plummet into the abyss that was Jung Jaehyun. 

Another low moan slips from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Honestly, you don’t intend to sound so lewd, but the work his hands lay over every knot under your skin was sinfully transcendent.

“You good?”

You don’t have to open your eyes to know that Jaehyun had a smug grin on his face.

“Oh shut up.” Your lazy chuckle gets muffled by the duvet your cheek is squashed into.

“Tell that to yourself,” Jaehyun leans down to press a sweet kiss on the top if your spine, “I’m not the one making all that noise.”

Your jaw goes slack. Wow. The fucking audacity. You pretend to inch away from another kiss he tries to plant onto your back feigning annoyance. “I swear to god Jaehyun—“

“Okay,” Jaehyun chuckles into your skin, “Okay, okay.” He fails to peck your shoulder-blade without smiling, “It’s okay.” Another kiss. “I like it.”

Your body jolts when he squeezes his thumbs into the dips of your waist.

“Especially when you..” He starts to pepper more up the slope of your shoulder until his nose burrows into the warmth of your throat.

You jaw clenches when the peppers turn into slow, open-mouthed kisses. “Ah— Jaehyun!” His lips leave no spot untouched, sucking your skin raw while his fingers unbind every coil tethered across your back.

“..Say my name.” He pulls away to look at your fucked out face, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smug grin. Jaehyun was the type to take pride in himself for making you whimper under his lips and writhe against his frame, god knows what he would’ve done to you if you weren’t so exhausted.

“Wait.” Jaehyun hands reach up to your shirt, pulling it down from your wrists and back over your torso before he flips you over.

With your hands finally free, you hook your arms around his shoulders. A shaky exhale escapes your mouth as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Jaehyun marvels at your unblemished front, your creamy skin untouched and as empty as a blank slate—the complete opposite to the kisses that brand your back and the nape of your neck—before his eyes flitter up to your supple lips.

His stare makes your face burn.

“What?” You ask blinking up at him.

“Your lips. I want your lips.”

Then without a second more to waste, Jaehyun lewdly bites down onto your bottom lip before you can say anything else, pulling at it till he’s reeling you into passionate kiss. Tingles explode across your skin at the fresh feeling of his bruised lips on your virgin ones. A wave of heat runs down your pulse and ignites at the pit of your stomach. Profanities turn over in your mind, capsizing your every thought as he pushes and pulls at the soft flesh of your lips with want.

He was so good to you. So fucking good.

Jaehyun’s arms slips under the back of your knees allowing his body to mesh perfectly into yours. You fall breathless when he tilts his head to the side a little more to coax your lips open further, a dizzying heat of emotion whirling in your chest as his plump lips slide wetly against yours. As usual, you were a mess under his touch. It was the result of his intoxicating self you indulged in so generously.

Jaehyun finally pulls away from you, his chest heaving as he breathes a light smile. Your heart trips over itself when his hand comes up to hold your face to guide his lips to your forehead. Momentarily, you bask in his affection, eyes fluttering closed and lips turning up in a giddy smile.

“Still want to finish that essay?” Jaehyun teases as he rolls over onto his back beside you and tucks you under his chin.

Your smile trades in for an eye roll, “I hate you.” You muffle into his chest.

Jaehyun snorts at your cute retaliation. “Yeah.” He hums into the top of your head. “Sure.”

A conversation your tired selves found no reason to continue any longer.

A quietude washes over the both of you, calming your hearts and hushing your surroundings into a quiet haze as though you were slipping in and out of slumber.

Time distorts when you lay in Jaehyun’s arms. His hand gently strokes your hair for what feels like both forever and never, until the slow rhythm of his breathing and warm embrace lulls you to sleep.

There was nothing more you could ask for.

[stories-in-the-stars]

The Fallen and the Wandering

It’s that time of the week y’all! Make sure to check reblogs for links to Ao3!

~*~

Chapter 10

“She--so you--?” Keith stammered.

Lance shook his head, pushing himself up. “I don’t know, but what matters now is that she’s way more powerful than any human being should be, and we still have no idea what she wants to do with that power! We have to go after her!”

Lance stood, only to stumble over his arms and fall right into Keith’s arms. Behind them, the Bureau workers sounded like they were calling backup. Keith wasn’t sure if they’d seen what had just happened, but he had no doubt that they weren’t about to give Lance up so easily, even in the interest of stopping Terrell. Still, there was something that Keith did need from them.

Securing Lance beside him, he marched over to the older worker, the one who looked to be in charge.

“You said you made an agreement with Terrell,” Keith stated. “What was it?”

“That--that’s classified--!”

“I don’t give a damn, whatever it was got us into this mess in the first place, so tell me what it was!”

The man looked torn between refusing and relenting to Keith’s demand. In the end, he chose the latter.

“She contacted us first. Said she knew where the sun was, and would tell us if we agreed to a few things, the man explained quickly. “Skeptical as we were, we had to at least follow the lead, especially given that it was Terrell of all people. All she asked was that we downsize our department beforehand, and that we leave her alone once we had the sun. She said that, after all, Jupiter isn’t as crucial as the sun, so what harm was there in letting her go? We agreed, and she told us that the sun was one of our own workers--and he is!”

“Or was, anyways,” Lance mumbled.

“What do you mean? What did she do?”

“She wished for the power of the sun,” Lance said.

“That--” The man decided that he was suddenly done with being confused and out of control of the situation. His expression hardened and his tone became decisive. “This changes nothing, save for the fact that we must bring Terrell in, given that she violated the terms of our agreement. You’ll stay here, albeit in a different office.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, it’s clear to me that you guys can’t be trusted to deal with Terrell--” Lance started scathingly.

The old man bristled and cut him off. “You will be staying here! And you!” he snapped, turning his attention to Keith. “I know I’ve seen you around before, so rest assured you’ll be lucky to even be cleaning the floors around here after this!”

Keith was hardly bothered by the threat, but they would need to find a way past all these workers, and the inevitable back up (probably keepers) they’d called. Lance was still leaning heavily on him, legs shaking with fatigue. There was no way they could fight their way out of this one. Keith regarded the setting. The broom he’d flown in on was buried under the rubble of Terrell’s attack, which meant that they wouldn’t be able to follow Terrell out of the hole in the ceiling she’d created for her dramatic exit. The only other option was to push their way through all these people.

He held Lance a little closer. “Stay close to me,” he whispered.

With a deep breath, Keith reached out with his power once again. It swelled weakly, strained from more use in the last few hours than in his entire life. The shadows rose all the same, and quickly plunged not only the room, but the hallway as well, into a solid darkness. Beside him, Lance gasped, reminding Keith that he hadn’t told Lance that he wasn’t quite human either. There would be time for that later, Keith decided. In the meantime, his attention was on the people blocking their path, who were now thrown into a borderline panic at their sudden loss of sight.

The first three or four of the group blindly stumbled forward, realizing that this was a ploy for escape. Keith evaded them easily. Some of the group towards the rear had broken off and were stumbling back towards the main department, where Keith was certain his power had not yet reached. Gripping Lance tightly, he charged through the few that were left in the hallway, knocking them down with extreme prejudice. A few hands grabbed at him and Lance, but such was their confusion that they slipped right off of them.

They burst out of the darkness to find the few that had broken away from the shadows waiting for them, along with a squad of keepers. With a grunt, Keith plunged the much larger area into black pitch. He wouldn’t be able to hold it for long, he knew. And what about when they reached a bigger area? He could make them invisible in the shadows, but that required them to be unseen in the first place.

“What’s up?” Lance whispered when he noticed that Keith had paused in their escape.

Keith explained the problem to Lance as best he could, and Lance hummed quietly. It was lucky for them everyone hadn’t thought to quiet down and listen instead of look.

“What if we made them think we escaped?” Lance suggested. “Not only is there a back exit through this department, but there’s also a separate, smaller broom closet within this department. I don’t know if they’d cleared it out yet, but it’s worth checking out.”

“Even if it is, my place isn’t that far,” Keith added.

“Right. So what we do is we hide ourselves under a desk or something, and then you let the light come back, they don’t see us and think we’ve escaped, and they’ll all run out trying to find us.”

Keith nodded before remembering that Lance was likely just as blind as everyone else and saying, “Alright, sounds good.”

The plan worked as seamlessly as Lance had made it sound, especially given that they were practically invisible. Everyone was yelling angrily, panicking and squeezing out the doors together in an effort to catch a target they couldn’t see. Within moments, the department was dead silent. Even so, they waited a few moments before emerging from their hiding place, Keith not yet releasing his hold on the shadows that cloaked them. Once they determined the coast was clear, however, he dropped his power with a sigh of relief.

Lance eyed him curiously as they made their way towards the department’s broom closet.

“So… I’m guessing you’re a planet too?” he ventured.

Keith nodded.

“How long have you known?”

“About as long as I’ve known you were the sun,” Keith answered. “That is, only a few months.”

They were silent as they discovered that the broom closet had indeed been cleared out. Lance was far from dressed for the weather--he didn’t even have any shoes, but what other choice did they have? With Lance’s direction, they hurried to a small, back exit, slipping out without a sound. They both agreed that it would be safer to take a back way to Keith’s apartment, for all that it would take a few minutes longer. Lance assured Keith that he would be able to stand the cold for a few minutes longer if it meant they wouldn’t be caught.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lance asked when they were about halfway there.

“Cause you told me yourself that you’d do exactly this,” Keith answered. “You’d give yourself up to save the world--I didn’t want that.”

“Why?”

Keith blinked and looked at Lance. “Why would I not want that? Lance--”

“You told me you don’t love me,” Lance interrupted. “And you told Allura you don’t care--yeah, she told me about that conversation--so if you don’t care, why go through all this trouble?”

“Well,” Keith fumbled, looking for the right words as he peered around a corner to make sure the street leading to his apartment building was clear of Bureau workers. His face felt red hot with shame. “First of all, what I said to Allura was a lie. I do care Lance, I just--I guess I didn’t want to care. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Lance mused. Then he shook his head, saying, “Talk about melodramatic though.”

“Yeah, I’m… not proud of the things I said, to you, or Allura, or anyone else.”

“Was what you told me a lie too?”

Keith was silent as they trudged up the stairs, hoping that the fact that he was still helping Lance to stand would serve as an adequate excuse for his hesitation. Even now he still felt drawn to Lance--did that mean he was truly still the sun? After all, Terrell had only asked for the powers of the sun, not to be the sun. Was there a difference?

He helped Lance to sit on the couch once they were safely inside. Lance’s gaze was expectant. Keith went to turn up the heat.

“Keith?”

Keith didn’t look at Lance as he said, “Honestly Lance? I have no idea.”

“How do you not know?”

“Because!” Keith huffed, turning around. “I’m not good at this emotional stuff! I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone before, and the one time I think I might be, it turns out he’s the sun and I’m a planet and I’m supposed to be drawn to him anyways! Tell me, Lance, where do you think gravity ends and love begins? In our case, do you think there’s even a difference?!”

Keith stood a ways away, breathing hard. Lance sat in stunned silence. His eyes were wide and did not once waver. Keith looked away, suddenly embarrassed. He mumbled an apology and made to get some socks and a sweater for Lance.

Before he could leave the living room, Lance asked, “Well, what do you want Keith?”

Keith paused briefly. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

He left before Lance could say anything more, but when he returned, Lance was frowning.

“Why would you say it doesn’t matter what you want?” Lance prodded gently.

“It doesn’t, that’s why,” Keith said, holding out the clothing for Lance, who eagerly pulled it all on. Even with the heat on, he was still shivering. “We’ve got more important things to worry about right now, like a person that has the power of Jupiter and the sun.”

“And who do you mean when you say ‘we’?” Lance inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Keith opened and closed his mouth, fishing for an answer.

“Me… and you?” he offered slowly.

Based on Lance’s expression, Keith guessed that that was the wrong answer.

“Sure, we’ll be part of it, but there’s no way we can take Terrell on with just the two of us. We need the other planets. Do you still have your star?”

Keith nodded, pulling it out of his pocket. It was dormant now, shining and settled like any other star. Only now Keith knew he only had to say the word and it would take him wherever he wanted. In theory, anyways. He hadn’t exactly had time to test the limits of it yet. He didn’t even know why it acted as a convenient sort of compass for him, only that it did, and only when asked, whether directly or indirectly.

“Do you suppose it’ll take us to people we haven’t met?” Keith wondered, holding it up by the cord.

Lance shrugged. “No idea, but maybe we’ve already met them. I mean, I am the sun, and you mentioned that gravity might still be a thing between me and the planets, so maybe they just kind of--I don’t know--ended up nearby? One way to find out I guess.”

“Alright… who should we try to find first?”

“Let me think…” Lance said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “If we go by the idea that size correlates with power… we might want to find Saturn first--also, which planet are you?”

“No idea, but I guess through process of elimination we’ll find out, won’t we?” Keith replied. He held the star near to his face, as though it needed to be close to hear him. “Take us to Saturn.”

It didn’t respond immediately as it had when Keith had asked to find Terrell. Perhaps they really did have to know who they were looking for in order to be guided to them. Keith and Lance glanced nervously at each other--what would they do if it didn’t work?--but then the flask began to sway gently, like a pendulum set to ticking. It started so subtly that Keith thought it was his own unsteady hand causing the movement. But the arc of the swing only grew, until it stopped mid-air, pointing solidly in one direction.

They had their heading.

Unfortunately, a problem arose as they prepared to leave. Lance had no shoes, and Keith’s were too small for him to borrow. Not to mention that neither of them had brooms, and they had no idea how near or far Saturn would be. There was also, Lance pointed out when Keith had to stifle a huge yawn, that it was very early in the morning, and Keith had yet to get any sleep.

“We can’t stay here for too long,” Keith argued when Lance suggested they wait before setting out. “The Bureau is going to search our homes when they can’t find us.”

“My place is farther, at least, and my sister always has a few spare brooms lying around. She can bring us brooms and a pair of my shoes,” Lance said.

Which reminded Keith-- “Your sister!” he gasped, fishing around in his pockets for that slip of paper she’d given him.

Lance, meanwhile, looked confused. “Yeah? That’s what I said?”

Keith made a mad dash for his phone once he’d found the slip of paper, and then shoved both towards Lance.

“She came by yesterday, looking for you. She gave me her number and told me to call if anything came up.”

Lance took the phone and dialed his sister’s number. Only seconds later, Lance sheepishly greeted Veronica, and from what Keith could hear, she was equal parts relieved and furious. Lance tried in vain to get in a word through the veritable stream of Spanish being hurled at him (Veronica could be loud when she wanted). Lance let her go on like that for a few minutes, quickly realizing that she just needed to get it out of her system. He replied to her in Spanish, of which Keith thought he could pick up a few words here and there, but ultimately did not understand. And then Veronica began to yell again, causing Lance to heave an impatient sigh. Then, just as quickly as the rapidfire conversation had begun, it ended, and Lance handed the phone back to Keith.

“She’s on her way,” Lance told him. “It won’t take her too long, she’s a fast flier--faster than even you, I’d say.”

“She didn’t sound too happy,” Keith commented idly.

Lance waved a hand dismissively. “I was gone for two days, she was just worried. She’s always been like that, probably cause in our family me and her are closest in age, only she’s just a little older than me so I guess she feels like I’m her responsibility or something? It’s honestly annoying more often than not, but I can always rely on her when I need her most, so…”

He trailed off with a shrug, but his expression was fond and nostalgic. Then he clapped his hands together abruptly, saying that Keith needed some sleep, even if it was just a quick power nap. Keith resisted at first, which prompted Lance to shove Keith all the way into his bedroom and onto his bed. Once he was lying down, however, the weight of fatigue was all too apparent. Lance settled himself right beside Keith, assuring him that he would wake him as soon as Veronica arrived. Even so, the possibility that the Bureau might come breaking down the door at any minute kept Keith on edge. He didn’t even begin to relax, tired as he was, until Lance began running his fingers through Keith’s hair.

“You know, I thought you said my hair was dumb,” Keith mumbled, winding the cord of his flask tightly around his hand so as to not let it slip away. “You seem to like it an awful lot.”

“It is dumb,” Lance replied. “And so are you.”

Keith sighed, letting his eyes fall closed. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I’ve been a jerk these past few months, all because I was scared. You’re not the only one I need to apologize to, you know.”

“I know,” Lance said, his tone gentle. “But for now you need to sleep.”

Keith hummed, and sleep swiftly took him.

He dreamed that strange dream again, the one that was well and truly a dream and out of his control. That sense of anticipation was there again, only this time Keith wasn’t skeptical, but rather curious. The wandering points of light were gathering close, and he along with them. The whispering was there again, using voices Keith thought he recognized but couldn’t quite place. All of them were excited for something, and Keith found that he was excited too, but he knew not for what. All of the excitement, however, seemed to be centered around a single, pale blue dot that Keith could hardly see. It was special, he knew, and had been for some time… but why?

Keith awoke with a violent start when someone started banging at the door. Beside him, Lance launched himself off the bed to go greet whoever it was. Keith checked the time to find that he’d only slept for half an hour at best. He gripped the flask tightly in his hand and rolled out of bed after Lance, worried still that it might be the Bureau. Lance had already opened the door by the time Keith trudged down the hallway, but to his immense relief, it was indeed Veronica, with three brooms and a duffel bag in hand. Her gaze was no less sharp than it had been when Keith had first met her.

“You want to tell me what’s going on now?” she demanded of Lance, who suddenly looked as though he was trying to swallow a rock.

“Not… really?” Lance offered in a squeaky voice.

Veronica opened her mouth, looking supremely unamused, but Keith interrupted.

“It’s just--!” he started a bit louder than he’d intended. He continued in a more reasonable tone, “It’s just that it’s a little difficult to explain and we’re worried you wouldn’t even believe us.”

Veronica looked slightly mollified, but Lance looked appalled. He hurried over to Keith to whisper urgently to him.

“You’re not actually planning on telling her just like that, are you? After all this time of keeping it a secret from all your friends?!”

“Well, look where that got me,” Keith replied in an equally low tone. “Not to mention, she’s your sister, and it doesn’t look like she’s going to back off until she knows what’s going on.”

Lance huffed. “I hate that you’re right, but you said yourself we can’t stay here for too long.”

Keith nodded and turned to Veronica, who was waiting with crossed arms. “We’ll tell you, but not here, we can’t stay here too much longer.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because--” Lance started, only to be cut off by an insistent knocking on the door.

Keith pressed his lips together tightly and motioned for the others to remain silent. He grabbed Lance and gestured for Veronica to come close. She hesitated, confused and concerned, for a second too long. Keith shoved himself and Lance into a shady corner just as the door burst open to a squad of keepers. Veronica looked back and forth between where she had just seen Keith and her brother disappear, and the workers who had so rudely intruded.

“Can I help you?” she asked, regaining her composure quickly.

The leader of the group motioned for the others to search the place.

“We’re looking for Keith Kogane--who are you?” the leader demanded.

“Veronica McClain,” Veronica said politely, though still with an edge.

“Do you know where Keith is?”

Veronica shook her head. “No, ma’am, he was here a few hours ago, but he left and never said when he’d be back.”

From the shadows, Keith resisted the urge to tell Lance that his sister’s acting skills were superb. Talk about remaining cool under pressure.

Meanwhile, the other keepers returned from their brief search (it was a small apartment, after all), and all shook their heads. Their leader scowled, and turned her attention back to Veronica, briskly handing her a card.

“Call us if you see him.”

“Is he in trouble?”

The lead keeper frowned. “That remains yet to be seen, but suffice to say he took something very important from the Bureau, something incredibly essential. That’s all I can say, but I assure you if you try to hide him it won’t turn out well for you.”

The leader then did her own sweep of the living room, eyeing everything with a critical gaze. Once she came dangerously close to where Lance and Keith were hidden, clinging tightly to each other and holding their breaths. Finally, she sighed, deciding that there was nothing to be found there. With an unnecessary flourish, the keeper and her team marched out of the apartment as quickly as they’d broken in, not even bothering to close the door behind them. Veronica watched them leave, and once they disappeared from her sight she closed the door as best she could (it was broken now, much to Keith’s dismay), and then whirled around to face where she had last seen Keith and Lance looking positively livid.

“Any chance we could just stay hidden like this until she’s less likely to kill us?” Lance whispered to Keith, so close to his ear that it made him shiver.

“I can hear you,” Veronica growled. “And if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I swear, I’ll--”

She gasped when Keith and Lance reappeared as if out of thin air, but quickly resumed her aggressive posture. Whatever threat she had in mind, Keith had no doubt she would follow through if she didn’t get answers.

“The reason I was gone for two days,” Lance began. “The Bureau had me. Keith broke me out and brought me here.”

Veronica paused, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Why did the Bureau essentially kidnap you? They didn’t arrest you, did they?”

Lance shook his head. “No, they had me because… well…”

“Because Lance is the sun,” Keith blurted.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “That’s very romantic and all, but--”

“No, he’s right,” Lance interrupted. “When the sun, moon, and planets fell to the earth, they didn’t manifest in the same way that stars do. They became human--and I’m the sun. If they were to put me back into the sky, the whole planet would be saved… and I was going to let them.”

There was a moment of silence as Veronica processed this information. Her expression was initially confounded, then astounded, and then back to being angry. Beside him, Lance shuffled nervously.

“You,” Veronica started in a grave tone. “Were going to give yourself up? Just like that?”

“Veronica, the planet is dying! It needs the sun, and if I don’t, then I’ll just die along with everyone else!” Lance argued.

Veronica swore, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lance, you self-sacrificing moron, did it ever occur to you that there might be another way?”

“Do you know another way?”

“Of course not! But, Lance, you can’t just go throwing yourself away like that!” she shouted.

Lance was about to make a retort, but Keith cut in, “Much as I agree with Veronica, we can’t just sit around here.”

“Why not? They already think you’re not here, which, by the way, how did you do that?” Veronica inquired.

“It’s, uh, a bit involved. We’ll tell you on the way?” Lance offered.

Keith dropped the flask that had been pressed tightly in his palm all this time. The star was still straining against the glass, pointing them in the direction it wanted them to go in. It raised more questions from Veronica, questions that they weren’t really able to answer. Lance threw on the shoes that Veronica had brought for him, and several jackets, and they were about to leave when a third visitor knocked on the now broken door, causing it to fall flat on the floor.

Shiro, to his credit, looked only mildly surprised. His eyes found Keith quickly.

“What’s this I hear about you being a fugitive from the Bureau?”

Apparently Shiro had gone in to work, early as usual, to find everything in a complete state of upheaval. He’d been accosted by a squad of keepers and questioned intensely about Keith and his possible whereabouts. Now that Keith had forgone secrecy, he wanted to tell Shiro everything, but it was as they’d already determined. They didn’t have time to stand around and explain every single detail. Shiro, it seemed, would have to go with them to find Saturn.

Unfortunately, Shiro lived almost as close as Keith did to the Bureau, and had no need of a broom for transportation, which meant that they had to figure something out if he was to go along with them. Ultimately he opted to exercise brotherly authority over Keith, which ended up meaning that Keith would share with Lance. How that was decided was beyond Keith himself, but he decided not to dispute it. They’d already wasted enough time. It was time to find Saturn.

They prepared themselves for a bit of a trek, not knowing how far Saturn would be. They took off, guided by Keith’s star--only to be led directly back to the Bureau. It was buzzing like a hive of angry bees, but the star pointed solidly towards the building. Keith grimaced.

“Figures,” he muttered. He was already thinking of how best to sneak back in, exhausted as he was from using his powers, when Shiro held out his hand.

“Let me find whoever it is. I’m supposed to be coming back from my break soon anyways,” Shiro explained.

Reluctantly, Keith handed over the star. He trusted Shiro more than anyone in the world, but he hated dragging him into this mess like this. Not to mention, there was nothing for the rest of them to do but wait as he searched the building as discreetly as possible. Nothing, except explain the whole fiasco to Veronica, who was still clamoring for answers. They explained everything they knew so far, admitting that there were still many things they didn’t know. Like what Terrell’s true objectives were, for instance. What could she possibly want to do with that much power?

When Shiro returned, it was much sooner than expected, and with someone in tow. What was more, it wasn’t an unfamiliar face.

“Hunk?!” Lance was the first to gasp.

“The star went slack after I practically ran into him, so I assume that he’s who we’re looking for,” Shiro explained.

Hunk, meanwhile, looked alarmed and bewildered. Keith assumed he’d heard the news just the same as Shiro. They made a quick explanation that only seemed to perplex him more.

“You’re saying… I’m a planet?” he clarified. “That--no, no way.”

“The star said so,” Keith said.

“Maybe the star was wrong? I mean, I’ll help you anyways, crazy as it sounds to go after Terrell now that she’s gotten an upgrade to her powers, but seriously--even if I was a planet, I don’t think I’d be Saturn, you know?” Hunk rambled.

“The star hasn’t steered us wrong so far,” Lance said. “We shouldn’t stick around here for too long, not with the place crawling with Bureau workers.”

Hunk sighed resignedly. “We can hide out at my place for a bit, just let me clock out first?”

Half an hour later found them all crammed into the apartment Hunk shared with Pidge, who was quite puzzled by this sudden intrusion, but very open-minded to the idea that Hunk was a planet and Lance was the sun. It was then that Keith realized that, in spite of her revelation, it seemed that Pidge hadn’t told a single person that he, too, was a planet, for which he was grateful.

“So now we have Saturn and… am I even still the sun?” Lance mused aloud. “Keith is a planet but we don’t know which one--”

“What about Shiro and Veronica?” Pidge inquired eagerly. “If we’re going off the idea that all the planets are close to Lance in some way, wouldn’t it make sense if they were planets too? And me?”

“I--” Keith started hesitantly, regarding each of them with a critical eye. Keith was still getting used to the concept of being a planet and being able to sense others--how did Terrell manage to not only sense Lance but correctly reason that he was the sun, just from one chance glance?

“I honestly have no idea,” Keith finally admitted. “If we had more time I might be able to tell, but otherwise we’ll just have to use this star.”

Pidge peered at the star curiously. “You said this star has been guiding you?”

Keith nodded.

“Strange…” she muttered. “I’ve never seen a star behave like that… Hunk?”

Hunk shook his head. “Me neither, although I did once hear about a star found in the southern hemisphere that acted like this--more like a compass than a wish-granter.”

“Interesting,” Pidge noted. “In any event, whether I’m a planet or not, I’m coming to help too.”

“Pidge--” Lance started.

But Pidge was already decided. “You can’t stop me, so don’t even try.”

“Fine. Who are we looking for next then?” Lance relented. “After Jupiter and Saturn… was it Uranus or Neptune that was bigger?”

“Uranus,” Hunk and Pidge answered together.

Pidge grinned. “At least, by diameter. Neptune was more dense than Uranus, so while it was slightly smaller, it was also heavier.”

“So essentially it’s a toss up as to which one we should go after first,” Shiro commented.

“We could just go in the order of the solar system,” Hunk suggested with a shrug.

“We are going to try to find all of them eventually, right?” Veronica pointed out. “So in the end it doesn’t matter, so long as we stop wasting time and just do it.”

Everyone agreed, and looked to Keith with his guiding star. He took a deep breath and willed it to guide them to Uranus. He thought that it was simply gathering it’s bearings, as it had when he’d asked it to take them to Saturn, but even after a full minute nothing happened.

“Do you suppose it can only guide us so many times?” Lance questioned, studying the star as though looking for an answer within it’s light.

Keith hummed, uncertain. “Alright then, take us to Neptune.”

This time, the flask began to swing almost immediately, seeming eager to take them where they wanted to go. It was Veronica who figured out what that must mean.

“Uranus is one of us,” she announced just as Pidge was opening her mouth to say the same.

Pidge beat her to the next conclusion though. “It’s Shiro! It’s got to be Shiro!”

Hunk hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I can see that, that makes sense.”

Shiro, meanwhile, was stunned, but he shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

“Now let’s get moving,” Veronica urged them. “We don’t know who Neptune is or where they might be, but we can’t bank on all the planets nearby. Do you guys have any spare brooms?”

Within moments they were in the air again, following the light of their guiding star. Keith was once again sharing with a broom with Lance, shivering not from the cold as he seemed to register how tightly Lance was pressed against his back every few moments. Lance was no less warm than he’d always been. What part of that was the sun? Keith wondered. And what part was just Lance himself? Keith found himself hoping that there would be time to sort that all out later. And if there wasn’t, he had a feeling Lance would make time.

He braced himself for a longer journey as soon as they left the city limits, plunging into darker skies with only a single, dim little star to light their way. Behind him, Hunk was still debating his status as Saturn (“I feel like maybe, Venus? Or, hey, maybe even the moon would be an alright fit for me, I think,” he suggested over the whip of the winds.), while Pidge and Veronica argued in favor of it (“Saturn was named for the Roman adaptation of the Greek Titan Cronus,” Veronica said. “Wasn’t he associated with time? Does that mean Hunk has the ability to control time?!” Pidge suggested enthusiastically. “Actually that would be kind of cool,” Hunk could barely be heard saying.)

Their ragtag group sailed over dimly lit suburbs, only occasionally spotting Bureau workers in the course of their duties. None of them spared their group a second glance, but Keith held his breath every time. Being spotted could be dangerous for them, even as their numbers were growing. They had three confirmed planets among them, with only one of them having a handle on the powers their planet-hood granted them (however precariously). Then there was Lance, who they weren’t sure if he was still the sun, but even if he had the powers Terrell had stolen from him, Keith was still the only one able to consciously use his powers. Keith found himself hoping that Hunk somehow did have the ability to manipulate time, if only so they could have more of it. Facing Terrell as they were would be a foolhardy move, but what choice did they have?

It could’ve been an hour, or several, but by the time the star guided them downwards, even Keith felt the chill of the air. Lance was clinging to him in a weak attempt to dispel the cold, his arms wrapped around Keith’s torso in a vice grip. Keith hoped that whoever Neptune was, they had a home in which they could warm themselves. Unfortunately, it seemed as though that wouldn’t be the case as they were led to a shadowy, seemingly abandoned warehouse district.

They were just about to touch down when Shiro shouted, “From the rear!”

No sooner had he warned the rest of them than they were being dive-bombed by a pair of Bureau workers in altitude masks. Keith didn’t spare any thought to it. It didn’t matter that their group outnumbered them, what mattered was that they’d been spotted.

“Scatter! Lose them!” he commanded.

But then Lance stopped them, shouting, “Wait, wait!”

The two Bureau workers, who had dove right past them, were circling around to meet their group again, but this time Keith realized they were far from being a threat, especially as they ripped off their altitude masks.

Threat or no, Allura looked far more intimidating than Keith had ever seen her. Her expression was dark as the skies above. Even Romelle, just behind her, looked mildly alarmed.

“Where,” she started dangerously, looking directly at Lance. “Have you been?!”

“Allura! It’s a bit--!” Lance began, only to be cut off almost immediately.

“Do you even know how worried sick I’ve been?! And what’s going on here?! Was I just not important enough to call once you were out of danger, or were you even in any danger at all? Was I--did you just--” Allura began to sputter, voice quavering dangerously.

Lance urged Keith to land, and everyone else followed suit, with Romelle guiding Allura gently down to the ground. Keith’s feet were hardly on the ground before Lance hopped off the broom, running towards Allura to sweep her up in a crushing hug. She was openly crying now, mumbling something that Keith couldn’t make out from where he stood. Lance murmured soft words of reassurance to her, patting her head soothingly and letting her cry her heart out. The rest of them shuffled a ways apart, so as to give them privacy.

“Do you think Allura might be the moon?” Pidge whispered to Veronica as they looked on.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Romelle asked before Veronica could reply.

Keith sighed deeply, but thankfully Pidge and Veronica took it upon themselves to explain the entire situation to them, with an occasional insight or two from Hunk. It left himself and Shiro on the sidelines of two very different conversations, and Keith became acutely aware of a conversation that he had to have with Shiro. He had told himself he would do it when there was time, but it seemed now, just before they found Neptune, was the time for discussion. Besides, what better time than the present?

“Hey,” Keith began hesitantly, grabbing Shiro’s attention. “I know this is long overdue, but--”

“It’s fine,” Shiro said.

Keith frowned. “It’s not fine and you know it. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“You’re right--I guess what I meant was, I forgive you.”

“I haven’t even apologized yet.”

Shiro shrugged. “I know you mean it anyways. Besides, I think you were right.”

“Shiro--”

“It’s been over a year, Keith. We both know that I need to be moving on.”

“That still doesn’t mean I should’ve said what I said,” Keith insisted.

Meanwhile, the other conversations dissolved, and everyone began to drift back towards Keith. Shiro patted his shoulder.

“We can talk more later,” he assured Keith.

“Alright, let’s find Neptune!” Lance cheered, his arm slung around Allura’s shoulders.

Keith nodded, and held up the star to light their way. It was hardly bright enough to cast any shadows. Keith urged everyone to stay close to him, so that he could lead them around any potential obstacles as they navigated the veritable maze of abandoned warehouses. The place was quiet, almost ghostly. Keith yawned, following the direction of the star in an absent manner. How long now had it been since he’d slept properly?

He blamed it on his lack of sleep that he hadn’t noticed the snatchers completely surround them until one of them was quite literally in his face. Keith stumbled back into the others, who had taken him very seriously when he’d told them to stay close. The snatcher in front of him swiped at the star, just as it went slack in the flask. Keith pursed his lips. He had a feeling it would take a lot to convince this stranger to join them in their endeavor, when they were already more likely to take Terrell’s side.

The snatchers were close around them, and creeping ever closer, until the one in front of Keith, whose face was completely obscured by his scarves, held up a hand, a silent order for them all to stop.

“Takashi?” the snatcher spoke hoarsely.

Keith froze. He glanced at Shiro, who looked petrified.

“Who’s Takashi?” Lance blurted. Half of their group glared at him, and he shrank back sheepishly. “It was a reasonable question…”

The snatcher removed the scarf from his face--it was like seeing a ghost, except he was real, but no less terrifying. Keith moved aside to let Shiro through. In what little light they had, Keith could see that Shiro was pale and shaking. He didn’t blame him.

“Adam?”

An errant breeze swept through the still moment. The snatcher, Adam, said nothing.

“You’ve been alive all this time?”

Still nothing. Then--

“You were never supposed to find me.”

The wind swirled around them. Shiro clenched his fists, a dangerous mix of emotions evident in his expression.

“Were things really that bad between us?” Shiro finally asked.

“Takashi--”

“You just thought it was better to just give up on us? Not even try to work things out?”

“You don’t understand--!”

The wind was whipping furiously, but it wasn’t until the rain began to fall that Keith began to realize what was happening. As Adam and Shiro began to shout in earnest, Keith shoved himself roughly between them.

“You need to stop!” he told told them. “Your powers are calling up a storm!”

Adam scowled. “Let’s go inside.”

Everyone, snatchers and planets alike, hurried inside to escape the coming storm. Even with their haste, everyone was thoroughly soaked by the time they ducked into the nearest warehouse, in which a veritable village of people were looking in concern towards the old and rattling windows, wondering if they would hold. The dim light of star-stuffed lanterns were hardly enough to keep the shadows at bay. The people looked with interest at these shivering newcomers, but asked no questions as Adam gestured them to a less populated part of the rundown warehouse.

There was a tense moment of silence, accusations and tangled emotions suspended in the air between Shiro and Adam. Keith wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He’d loved Adam just about as dearly as he had Shiro, even during the times they argued. Had it really gotten so bad that when Adam disappeared in that storm all that time ago, he thought it better to not return at all? Keith frowned, brows knit together. The Adam he remembered cared deeply about Shiro, to the point of being overbearing at times. What on earth could’ve possibly changed that?

“Why are you here?” Adam asked, breaking the delicate silence.

It seemed that more personal business would have to wait. It was too clear to Keith that Shiro wanted an explanation, a reason for why he had to grieve for an entire year while Adam had been alive and well all along. But Shiro, like Adam, was well practiced in the art of putting things aside. Keith wasn’t so sure if he’d be able to do the same in such a situation.

“This is going to sound crazy, but the short version is that the sun, moon, and planets became humans when they fell,” Shiro explained crisply. “One such person decided to take the power of the sun for herself, and we think that the best chance we have of stopping her is to gather everyone else together, and you, apparently, are one of those planets.”

Adam hardly batted an eye at the story. Keith wondered if he even believed it. Outside the wind howled with unbridled fury. The rain pounded mercilessly against the thin roof.

Adam sighed. “So Terrell actually managed to get her way, then?”

“You know about her?” Keith blurted, unable to contain himself any longer.

“Of course I do,” Adam scoffed, crossing his arms. “You aren’t in this line of business without at least knowing of her, or what she really is. She’s not exactly quiet about it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance cut in; Keith was amazed he’d lasted this long without butting in, but then, he was probably exhausted. “So you know about Terrell? You know that she’s Jupiter, and you just? Let her be?”

Adam shrugged. “It’s a mutual thing. We leave each other alone. Frankly I’m lucky that she’s so intent on being the only ‘special’ one in her own group, otherwise she probably would’ve tried to recruit me.”

“Recruit you--so you--?” Shiro started incredulously.

“Yes, Takashi. I know what I am. I’ve known ever since that storm.”

The wind rattled the battered warehouse insistently, an unspoken demand for an explanation. Adam sighed.

“You remember as well as I do, don’t you? We were searching over the ocean that day, arguing about something I can’t even remember now--”

“I had flown up towards the sky one too many times, according to you,” Shiro interrupted.

Adam fidgeted in a way that suggested he remembered all too well, for all his denial. “Right. Well--we were arguing, the wind picked up… and then the rain started. We got separated. The wind was too strong for me to go against, and I ended up falling off my broom and falling into the ocean. I should’ve died.”

Everyone shifted uneasily. Beside him, Keith felt Lance shuffle a little closer. Unthinking, he wrapped an arm around Lance; he was probably freezing.

“I didn’t, obviously,” Adam continued. “But I had no idea how long I was out for. While I was under, I had these dreams, only… they weren’t ordinary dreams. More like memories. Memories of a time before I was human, and somehow I knew they were true. I saw myself, and all of you--and I saw Terrell. She was the one that found me, before I came to.”

He paused, clasping his hands tightly together in front of him.

“She didn’t need to tell me what I already knew. All she wanted was some assurance that I’d stay out of her way. I thought about bringing her in, at first. Then she told me her story, about how the Bureau nearly did put her back in the sky even though she has a human form. She’s ambitious, but she’s also terrified.”

Lance blew a raspberry at that. “What does she have to be scared of?”

“Of dying, I suppose,” Adam suggested. “Or at least, the chance of it.”

“Oh.”

“Either way, I agreed to stay out of her way. And if she really does have the power of the sun alongside Jupiter now, that’s what I intend to do,” Adam informed them decidedly.

The reaction was immediate, ranging from, “What?! How can you just sit idly by while Terrell does who knows what with all that power?” to “You really think she’ll hold up her end of the bargain?”

“Adam,” Shiro interjected through it all, his tone almost pleading. “Why?”

Adam’s expression was stern now. “A few reasons. She was already too powerful just as Jupiter. By the time I met her, she had precision control of her powers. A precision that I only barely have, and that I doubt any of you have in any capacity great enough to stop her.”

Everyone fidgeted under his knowing glare.

“She’s never gone back on her word to me, so I have no reason to think she’ll do so now, unless you think she intends to steal the powers of all the planets?”

To that, no one had an answer. Even now, they had no clue as to what Terrell truly intended to do.

Adam huffed. “You’re all on a fool’s errand. And for what? She could just very well want the power of the sun for the sake of having it. In case you haven’t noticed, there doesn’t seem to be anyone she truly cares about but herself.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try--” Allura started.

“Try to what? What do you want to do with her? Say you do manage to overpower her, by some miracle or other. Do you intend to kill her? Do what the Bureau failed to do all those years ago?” Adam demanded.

Allura recoiled. Lance pressed forward.

“She tried to kill Allura,” he stated. “And she killed those snatchers all those years ago. We know she’s capable of horrible things, and we know she’s capable of going back on her word. You say she doesn’t care about anyone but herself, but you still trust her enough to leave you out of this?”

“I have no reason to doubt her,” Adam insisted.

Near the back of the warehouse, a weary window shattered, allowing in the shrieking winds.

“I can’t believe this,” Shiro started, uncaring for the gale that threatened to bring the place down. “You’re just going to lie down and let her have her way, all because--what, you suddenly think snatching is a ludicrous business? Or is she just that important to you now?”

The sting of the accusation was apparent on Adam’s face, which promptly contorted into something like heartbroken rage.

“Don’t,” Adam started in a low tone. “Ever insinuate that you weren’t important to me. You were the most important person in my life, and it was because of that that I had to stay away!”

He gestured wildly to the shattered window. “When I found out I was Neptune, I found out you were Uranus--sea and sky, Takashi, doesn’t get much more opposite than that! I wanted to come back at first, more than anything, but do you see what happens when we’re even near each other? The Bureau would’ve found us both out, and they would’ve stitched us to the sky!”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Adam, I never did!” Shiro shouted.

“So I’m just not allowed to care about you anymore, is that it?!”

“That’s not what I--”

Shiro stopped abruptly. They all did. Even the other people in the warehouse who had been cowering from the storm and whispering in hushed tones fell still. Outside, the winds still howled, the rain still insistent against the questionable walls. Keith realized he was gripping too tightly to Lance and loosened his grip, only for Lance to press closer to him. For though there had been no sound save for that of wind and rain, a burst of light intense enough to dispel all shadows flashed outside. Only a few seconds later, it was followed by a rumble that shook the warehouse down to it’s crumbling foundation.

Terrell was coming.

[norxxcoffee-blog]

“When silence falls, that is when I feel lonely.” Denmark with whoever or just by himself. thankss

Hope this is ok and not too long! I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you like it :D

It will always be like this, he thinks. Cheery and at ease during the day, ever ready with a smile or a joke. People are drawn to Denmark because of this. Prussia, a friendship formed mainly in beer; America, good fun when he is feeling especially outgoing; there is even something about Netherlands' apathy that Denmark admires. He has friends. He has a lover- though the word, erotic and almost shameful, hardly does Norway justice. And perhaps it would be all right, if only Norway were not so taciturn. Denmark is familiar with their brand of love by now, the warmth and security of each others' arms more comforting than words will ever be, centuries of memories that have forged something eternal between them. They spend every night they can together, holding each other until they fall asleep. Or so Denmark wishes. Noise is easy. Noise fills in the blanks, soothes his lingering panic, accompanies him throughout the day and keeps the smile on his face. When silence falls, that is when I feel lonely. Denmark has Norway, and with him mutual respect and love. He has Sweden, Finland, who still stand by him after all the hurt between their countries. Even Iceland can brighten his mood with just a few soft words. Most nights Denmark struggles by, clinging to Norway like an anchor until his fatigue grows large enough to swallow him. And then there are nights like this one. Nights that never seem to grow any easier, no matter what he does. Denmark lies awake at 4am, Norway curled around him and his eyes wide open. The exhaustion is there. But so are the thoughts, the memories, and they will not let him sleep. At last he swings his legs over the side of the bed, disentangling himself from Norway's warmth with no small reluctance. Denmark draws in a quivering breath. All he can see is the life leaving Sweden's eyes with a single axe blow, all he can feel is the sharp, pulsing pain of a scar long healed over. One hand trails across his torso, brushing against a puckered line. Finland's last gift. And suddenly that pain is hot, too hot, rising up to choke him like the blood nearly did all those years ago. Denmark shrugs on his jacket and steps out of the burning heat. It is much cooler on the landing. A shadow plays idly across his feet, scattering moonbeams and sending a quick flash across Denmark's face. He descends the stairs with an insomniac's light step, used to navigating the flickering dimension between night and day. Denmark feels an odd sense of freedom swell up inside him. He has the whole night, at least five more hours to be alone until Norway wakes up. Not that Norway is bad company- quite the contrary- but even Denmark treasures moments of solitude like these.He slips into a pair of trainers and then out into the lamp-lit streets of Copenhagen, filling his lungs with cold air. Almost at once his head feels lighter. Denmark walks for a while, hands deep in his pockets and head deep in thought. There is no foreseeable way out of this hell, no escape from the agony of not sleeping. Sweden. I need Sweden. It all began with him- fights, bitter rows, prolonged silences, adding up to the eventual fracture of what was already an uneasy bond. And now, Denmark needs reassurance that it has all been forgiven. He dials his brother's number from memory and waits, leaning against a lamp post. 'Hello?' mumbles a voice on the third ring. 'Sve, it's me.' There is a crackling rush of breath over the line. Denmark can picture Sweden's frustrated face all too well. But then he remembers his centuries of nightmares, and it is easy to keep talking. 'I...I just needed to know. About 1523, 1611, 1814. We're- we're all right, aren't we?' For one long, terrible moment, Sweden does not reply. Denmark would hang up, were it not for the fear hunching his shoulders. 'Where are you?''Out. Not too far from home. Why?''I'm coming to see you.' The dial tone sounds harshly in his ear. He slides his phone back into a pocket, remorse creeping up all of a sudden. I was his big brother. I was meant to protect him, not the other way round. But Sweden, with his large, careful hands, his low, gentle voice, has always been the stronger one. Denmark slips down streets glowing with faded golden light, warm and welcoming as a sunlit meadow. Only the air is cold, and he is used to that. Soon suburbia gives way to central Copenhagen- to the iconic red-and-orange-painted houses, the long dark length of the canal, and a sunrise-gilded sea lapping softly in the background. It occurs to Denmark that the sea looks more inviting than anything ever could. He ambles past rows of sailboats at a leisurely pace, until his feet come to stop on the familiar cobbles of the city harbour. Something unclenches within Denmark. This is his true home, the part of his land he feels most drawn to. Sea salt and frozen fish might be unsavoury smells to others, but for him they are childhood memories hailing too far back to be accompanied by images, the last vestiges of an era when all that mattered was war and glory. Slowly, almost bashfully, Denmark sheds his jacket, shoes and socks, so he stands by the sea in jeans and a t-shirt. One toe trails the water's glassy surface. It breaks, the shatter of a cold mirror, sending ripples out to join the distant waves. Already Denmark can feel goosebumps rising on the bare skin of his arms. But for him, the cold is not something to be avoided. For him, it is sweet and soft as a lover's kiss. His feet follow, rolled-up jeans just skimming the cool depths. It is too good, too intoxicating, to wait a second longer. Denmark lowers himself down until the saltwater has closed over his head. And everything comes alive. When he opens his eyes, the sting is merely awakening, and all his joints loosen as he swims out further and further. Taking a breath seems pointless. So he does not, diving down even deeper with strong arms that have plied these waters upon countless occasions. My first love, Denmark thinks. Sometimes there is a third part to his passionate relationship with Norway- this cold, this release, this sweet freezing haven. An affair of the purest kind.His lungs begin to prickle, but Denmark does not care. With every inch he dives, the thoughts fall away a little more. He stops for a moment, simply floating. Too far gone to rise up. The water wants to take him, and so he lets it, sinking deeper and deeper, the tension around his chest lessening that of his mind. This, Denmark feels, is the only place where he can truly belong. Even the darkness creeping across his eyes means well. Home of sirens, mermaids, selkies. And now another broken soul joins their ranks. Perhaps it will be like the Little Mermaid, and he will rise again as a sighing spirit on the wind. Perhaps his fate is to guard these indigo depths, like tragic Undine. Perhaps it is only darkness after all. But all Denmark can think, as numbness finally conquers him, as night lifts him up and carries him home, is that he does not care. Not if the sea surrounds him.Nations are strange creatures. They can be dealt a mortal wound, only to survive it through sheer force of will. They can die of a broken heart, of the pressure of tangled politics, everything that should be nothing to them. But the sea is everything to Denmark. Which is why he rises again the next morning, laid out on some desolate northern beach. He passes a hand across his face. It is damp, salt-scented from seawater. A harsh laugh bursts from his lips. So there it is. I lived. Truly, Denmark does not know if he would rather have died. He begins to walk, careless of his bare feet against the concrete pavements. Passers-by shoot their dishevelled nation bemused looks. Tousled golden hair, soft, tired eyes, a creatures of the waves lost upon land. Denmark begins to believe that he could be both. He can never leave either of his two loves for long, and it transpires that drowning every once in a while is a good cure for constant self-doubt. Instinct brings him home. One hand lifts to push the bell, but the door swings open anyway. Denmark barely has time to register everything before a pair of skinny arms fling themselves around his neck. 'Where were you?' Norway half-mumbles, half sobs into his hair. 'You're freezing!' He draws Denmark inside without waiting for an answer, fussing over him as he has not done for decades. 'Went for a swim.''I can see that. And you drowned as well, by the looks of it.' Norway's tone is gently mocking. But his face blanches sickly pale when Denmark gives a shrug. 'Den...please, tell me you didn't.''I've always loved the sea.' he says, letting Norway crush him in an even tighter embrace. 'But never more than I loved you.' Another pair of eyes lock with his own over Norway's shoulder. One moment aquamarine blue, the next bottle-green. Interchangeable, mesmerising- just like the sea. 'Den.''You came.' It is followed by a silent, but crushingly sincere apology. For drinking to forget, calling again and again at some ungodly hour, for ruining get-togethers with his loose tongue and too-bright smile. For everything. Norway will always be the sole entity holding Denmark together. But when Sweden smiles at him, younger brother reassuring the older, Denmark knows it does not matter. Because Sweden's best trait was always his ability to forgive, no matter how long it took him. And for now, that is enough. 

Thanks for the ask! :D

[dragonandtiger]

Digimon 00 - Fragments - 28

Ryo sat quietly beside the bed, wilting from exhaustion as he watched Ken sleep. For the past several days, he and Keiko spent more time in Ken’s bedroom at the Crystal Tower than their own bedrooms. They switched out around the clock, ensuring that no one would leave Ken alone. Although Ken already had Wormmon by his side, it was a challenge to get the worried Digimon to take care of his own needs.

The worst of the wait was the fever. For several days, Ken quietly moaned and twitched, soaked with sweat. It was only earlier that day that the fever finally broke. Besides Wormmon, Higashi was the one who rarely left Ken’s side. Even now, the angel fussed at the sheets and switched out the cool compress on Ken’s forehead. It wasn’t necessary now, but it was ‘just in case,’ as Higashi put it.

The stress was especially apparent on the Digimon. Wormmon could only fret, curled up in an empty space on the bed to not get in the way of Ken’s healing. He barely ate, slept, or said more than a whisper of Ken’s name and ask Higashi how his partner was faring. Higashi tried to be confident, smiling around soothing words, but Ryo noticed the way his wings kept twitching, how his fingers couldn’t keep remain idle. The longer Ken’s fever lingered, the more the fidgeting increased, and only when it broke did Higashi seem to relax just a little.

Ryo barely saw Keiko and Nyamon, except when they came to switch places with him. It was as though they existed on opposite ends of the days, with him taking the sunlight hours, and them taking the nights.

Nyamon remained stoic every time he saw her, most often climbing on the bed to sit beside Wormmon. She would lay a comforting paw on his back, but say nothing as they both watched Ken’s fitful slumber.

It was Keiko’s behavior that troubled Ryo the most. Her normally stony exterior cracked when Ken fell into her arms, bleeding. Zennyu had to pry her away from Ken with more violence than Ryo thought necessary to allow Higashi a chance to take Ken to bed. Since then, shadows lingered under Keiko’s eyes, which were red due to more than her irises. More than once he walked in on her sitting by Ken’s side, hand in her arms, and whispering apologies under her breath.

Although Ryo tried his best to reassure Keiko, she still blamed herself for what happened to Ken. What was more frustrating, was that she kept trying to do the same for him, when it was obvious that he was the one responsible. If Ken hadn’t stopped to save him when he was being reckless enough to turn his back on an enemy, then his oldest friend wouldn’t…

Ryo ran his hand across his face and let out a sigh that ended in a groan as he leaned back in his chair. Despite how plush his seat was, he couldn't get comfortable - not that he wanted it. He couldn’t accept it. Not now. Not with Ken still in a coma. “Ken…”

“It’s my turn now.”

The sudden familiar feminine voice made Ryo jerk from surprise, and he looked up to see Keiko entering the bedroom with Nyamon right by her side.

Keiko paused at the foot of the bed to look at Ken before she moved to Ryo’s side. “Go eat and rest.”

“Don’t worry,” Nyamon said as she crossed her arms. “We’ll let you know when Ken wakes up.”

Ryo nodded at that before he stood up stiffly. As much as part of him wanted to protest and remain a little longer, he already knew he wasn’t going to win any more than Keiko did when he switched out with her. He also noticed that at some point Higashi had left the room, likely to get something else for Ken like a fresh pillow or blanket. His muscles ached from sitting still for so long, and he had to take the time to stretch and rub his arms and legs for a bit. Once he felt as though he could move freely again, he let out a weary sigh as he allowed his hands to drop to his sides.

Lingering a moment more, Ryo gave Ken one last look, desperate to see some sign that he was waking up, before he surrendered his post and approached the door

Nyamon watched Ryo as he passed her by before she turned her attention to Ken. “By the way.”

Ryo paused at that and glanced down at the cat Digimon, with a blink.

“The time distortion has ended,” Nyamon said, her expression unreadable.

“What!?” Ryo blurted out a she whirled to face her, shocked. All the fatigue he felt by the end of his watch evaporated under a terrible jolt of adrenaline. “So Millenniumon-”

“Was apparently not involved,” Keiko said, eyes closed and lips curled in distaste. “For once.”

“But… how is that possible?” Ryo asked, glancing between the two. “What happened!?”

“The other Chosen Children killed an enemy called ‘Apocalymon’,” Nyamon said, finally turning her head to look at Ryo again. “After they did, time began to right itself and flow normally once more.”

“A… Apocalymon?” Ryo repeated the name, slowly. He had never heard such a name before. Why hadn’t anyone told him that there was another threat just as dangerous as Millenniumon out there?

Nyamon nodded. “He was apparently the leader of Piemon.”

“So he’s the one that attacked Ken?” Ryo asked, clearly struggling with what he was hearing. “But what… how does Millenniumon… I mean, but what about everything we… I...”

Keiko moved to Ryo’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder, as she locked eyes with him. “Breathe, Ryo. We don’t know what was going on with Apocalymon either, just that the others discovered him right before killing him.”

“I know how you feel,” Nyamon said, with a snap of her tail. “It feels disorienting - like we had the rug ripped out from underneath us. But as it currently stands, it seems like everything’s over.”

Ryo reached up rub the back of his head, then grimaced. “I… don’t know what to say.”

“For now, just get some rest,” Keiko said, her expression softening. “And leave Ken to me.”

Ryo was quiet for a moment before he nodded, far more weary than he had been moments ago. “Alright. Good night.”

“Good night, Ryo,” Nyamon said, watching as the Chosen of Miracles left the room, closing the door behind him. She was quiet for several moments before she snorted. “He didn’t believe it any more than we did.”

Keiko nodded before she took a seat in the chair Ryo vacated, the cushions still warm from his body heat. “It must’ve been a puppet. It had to. Just because he didn’t use the name Millenniumon…”

For the first time in a while, Wormmon spoke up, his weak, cracking voice startling the girls. “Apocalymon is still the one who told Piemon to do this to Ken-chan, right?”

“I guess,” Keiko said after a moment.

“The other Chosen Children killed Piemon too,” Nyamon added with a snap of her tail.

“Good,” Wormmon muttered, his eyes never leaving Ken. “I wish I could’ve been the one to kill them.”

Silence lingered in the room for a long moment before Nyamon hopped onto the bed and sat beside Wormmon. She placed her hand upon his back and bowed her head a little. “I feel the same.”

The ephemeral vision of Narakumon appeared beside Keiko, his arms crossed. Although he could have appeared in a physical state, in this form he spared Wormmon and Ken from his intimidating presence, as well as potential awkwardness.

“Ryo’s instincts are as incredible as always,” Narakumon said. “And that they’re telling him this is a pack of lies - and bad ones at that. It may fool everyone else, but it won’t fool me.”

“So it isn’t really over,” Keiko said, softly, not that Wormmon seemed to be paying attention to her muttering to herself. “Apocalymon was just a patsy.”

Narakumon nodded. “He’s up to something, as always.”

“What do we do?” Nyamon asked, not caring if Wormmon overheard. “Hunt him down?”

“We wait, and let him think he’s deceived us,” Narakumon said. “Keep both eyes open and watch for his next move.” He hesitated before his expression softened. “As for Miracles and Kindness...”

“Let’s keep them out of it, if we can,” Nyamon said. “They’ve been through enough.”

Narakumon nodded, his expression pained, before he turned to Keiko. “...As have you, Keiko.”

“I’m fine,” Keiko said a little louder than she intended, the words coming too quick to have much behind them. “It’s Ken we should be worried about.”

“Yes,” Wormmon said, reminding everyone of his presence. “When Ken-chan is better, I want to go with you.” He turned his gaze towards the girls, his watery blue eyes blazing with a terrible fire. “If Millenniumon did this, I want to make him pay myself.”

Nyamon nodded, her expression solemn, as she patted Wormmon’s back. “Right.”

Narakumon watched Wormmon as the little Digimon returned to the silent vigil without further comment, then down at the unconscious Ken. “Humans weren’t meant to take attacks from Digimon. The fact that he’s survived this long, despite being such a small boy…” His eyes drifted to Keiko and a small shudder ran through his ghostly form. Fortunately, all eyes were still on Ken, sparing him from displaying even such a minute weakness. “...He will recover, even if Tenraimon has to get involved.”

“Even if Mama doesn’t know how to fix what’s wrong?” Keiko asked before rubbing the sting from her eyes.

Narakumon caught his adoptive daughter’s gaze and gave a smile that would terrify most, but not her. “Of course. What do you think she’s been doing all this time?”

Keiko relaxed, just a little, then a bit more as her papa gently stroked her hair.

Nyamon noticed the faint tension that crept into Wormmon’s body from a question he couldn’t hear the answer to. “Tenraimon will fix this.”

Although Wormmon didn’t quite relax, he returned to a less anxious state, and nodded. “R-right. Ken-chan will get better. Absolutely. Absolutely…”

Silence lingered for a time in an air filled with unbroken tension and mild comforts. Eventually, Nyamon glanced at the DigiGod. “What’s happening with the other children?”

“Gennai sent them home,” Narakumon said.

“Really?” Nyamon asked, quirking an eyebrow as she turned to fully stare at Narakumon. “He actually believes it?”

“Of course he would,” Narakumon said, with a snort. “He’s just a program serving the Holy Beasts. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to lunge on the idea that it’s just darkness causing trouble as always.”

Keiko sighed and shook her head, though her eyes never strayed from Ken. “Idiots.”

“Let them believe what they like,” Narakumon said. “It makes it easier to lull our prey in to a false sense of security.”

Keiko nodded, trying to remain stoic, but she couldn’t erase the cracks scarred into her stony facade - not until Ken woke up.

---

Higashi fumbled about the kitchen, his hands shaking slightly as he rooted through the cabinets. He felt as exhausted as he looked, with heavy bags under his eyes and his wings drooping slightly. As he reached up for a jar on a higher shelf, his fingers brushed against it just enough to dislodge it. However, in his state, he lacked the reflexes to catch it as it went tumbling forward. Helplessly, he could only yelp as the jar went flying past, heading straight for the floor.

Higashi turned just in time to see the jar easily snatched in mid-air by Zennyu, whose sudden appearance made the angel jump. He placed his hand over his chest as he let out a sigh, then gave his partner a grateful smile as he reached to take the jar from Zennyu. “T-thank you… I didn’t see you there.”

Zennyu allowed the other angel to take the jar, his expression piercing. “You need to rest.”

Higashi paused at that before he looked away, instead focusing on the jar as he opened it. “I… not yet. Ken still needs my help.” He paused for a moment before a weary sigh escaped him. “Humans are… more difficult to heal than Digimon, it seems.”

“His fever has broken,” Zennyu said, not taking his eyes away from his angel even as Higashi tried not to look at him.

“Yes, which means he needs me more than ever,” Higashi said, wearily. “His condition is fragile, and he could still easily relapse.’

“He can wait an hour for your care,” Zennyu said as he ran his fingers through Higashi’s bangs, sliding the errant hairs out of the other angel’s face. “Please sleep for at least an hour, Higashi.”

Higashi sighed heavily before he finally looked up to meet Zennyu’s gaze. “I can’t, I-”

Zennyu closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Higashi’s tenderly and silencing any further protest. A muffled, but not at all protesting squeak escaped the angel of Light as he reluctantly allowed himself to enjoy such affection.

They barely parted before Zennyu swept Higashi up into his arms with practiced ease. “One hour. I won’t accept anything less.”

Higashi wanted to protest as he was carried away from the kitchen in Zennyu’s arms, but in the end, he lacked the energy to. Instead, he simply sighed as he sagged in his lover’s arms, relenting. His head drooped as he rested it against Zennyu’s chest, closing his eyes. “I just can’t win against you, can I...?”

“You won my heart a long time ago,” Zennyu said with a wry smile, gratified to see a rosy blush appear on Higashi’s cheeks “I yield to you every day, Higashi. You are my love, my life, my reason for existing. I just can’t help but being a little selfish when it comes to you now and again.”

A soft smile played on Higashi’s lips as he further relaxed against the angel of Darkness, lightly holding the long forgotten jar in his hand.

Zennyu leaned in closer, his low voice taking on a richer rumble that suggested delightful things to come. “And I promise you I’ll do everything I can to persuade you to spend far more than an hour in our bed.”

No response came from Higashi. It seemed that in that brief moment of relaxing his guard, exhaustion swooped in and stole his consciousness away, leaving him deeply asleep in Zennyu’s arms. His breathing was even as he slumbered, his body trying desperately to regain the energy he had spent for so long.

Zennyu exhaled deeply, relaxing even as he felt a twinge of disappointment. The relief he felt was well worth not getting a blushing reaction from his beloved. However, as he bent down to kiss Higashi’s brow and bid the other angel sweet dreams, he noted to himself that when Higashi woke, his lover would no doubt be far more rested for his persuasion then.

Although Zennyu knew that he was forcing the issue, Higashi needed someone to put him first. Zennyu was painfully aware that without his intervention, his darling Higashi would work himself to death again and again and again. He was seeing it happen right before his very eyes, and had seen it far too often in the past as well.

Higashi could never refuse to help anyone, even if it meant his own destruction.