#p sure that rattle gave me a headache and i would not do it again that was a rough fucking ride lol but im glad u somehow got me into that

[minniewoos]

A Little Pick-Me-Up ➣ Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: highschool au, slice of life, fluff

Pairing: hyunjin x reader

Word Count: 1,961

Summary: Hyunjin gets a little worried after he heard you fainted at school.

From Jinnie [11:36]: hey, why aren't u in class?

From Jinnie [11:37]: Y/N

From Jinnie [11:37]: y/n

From Jinnie [11:37]: y/f/n answer me

From Jinnie [11:38]: ….

From Jinnie [11:38]: .......................

From Jinnie [11:41]: AHHHHH

From Jinnie [11:42] WHY R U IN THE NURSES OFFICE

From Jinnie [11:42]: Lix just told me T.T

From Jinnie [11:42]: I'm seeing ur ass after class

To Jinnie [11:46]: I just passed out you loser

To Jinnie [11:46]: stop spamming

From Jinnie [11:48]: :(

To Jinnie [11:48]: no need to worry so calm down :(

The nurse's office was quiet other than the sound of the nurse printing papers in the room next door. You set your phone down once you figured Hyunjin wasn't going to reply back and decided to just rest for a while. You sighed as you rubbed your head, a headache was coming on, and you hoped it didn't become a migraine. School nurses mostly didn't do much, but at least they let you lay down on the beds in the other room. They were uncomfortable and leathery, but they did the job.  

Bright white light shone through the window in the room, and really just annoyed you. So you reached over to shut the blinds, rattling against each other as they fell over the window. You scanned the room, grateful that your school had a separate room for a place to rest. Otherwise, you probably would've gone insane from sitting in a room with your school nurse for longer than five minutes. Not that she was unkind, but just a little weird. Her large eyes gave her the appearance of a frightening bug, and the woman had a tendency to stare. You shivered.

Laying down once more, you closed your eyes to get some peace in the quaint room. And at some point, despite the hard lumpy bed, you drifted off to sleep.

That is until your door was creaked open and your good old buddy old pal Hyunjin came in. And he was a loud motherfucker.

"Tell me what happened! Are you okay?? Oh--shit you're sleeping…" His loud voice dwindled when he noticed you sleeping. He needlessly covered his mouth with his hand before stepping inside and quietly shutting the door behind him. He did so with a little more pomp and circumstance than required.

"Well, I was sleeping until somebody came in." You acted annoyed and sat up, rolling your eyes at him with an impish smile.

Hyunjins shoulders raised and he smiled apologetically before he sat on the bed across from yours, elbows resting on his knees. You crossed your legs and faced him, then a look of confusion crossed your face.

"Wait. How'd you get in here? The nurses don't let-"

"She was sleeping." He winked and chuckled, leaning forward comfortably.

"Good, her eyes freak me out." You scoffed.

A weird look crossed Hyunjins face, and he cringed, "Ah, actually...she sleeps with her eyes open…"

"You're kidding!" Your jaw dropped, and the creepy image passed through your head. A shudder ran down your spine, and you shook your head to rid the image.

"No, I'm not joking. It was freaky." He shook his head, lips still curled back in unease. Then he looked at you for a moment, "But seriously, I'm glad you're doing okay."

"...yea, thanks for checking up." It warmed your heart to see that Hyunjin actually came to see you. You smiled at him, "It means a lot."

"Um, of course, what kind of friend would I be?" He teased. "So, tell me what happened. All Felix knew was that you passed out last class."

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed down, "You're gonna make fun of me."

"Me? Make fun of you? No, never." Sarcasm dripped off his tongue.

"Oh, shut up you loser." You threw the unfluffed pillow at him, which he caught anyway.

"Fine, but really tell me." He hugged the pillow and looked at you, earnestly, "You really worried me when I heard."

You smiled at Hyunjin, the butterflies in your stomach were flying all around at his comment. This boy really did cause your stomach to do flips and all kinds of tricks, in all honesty, you felt like a lovesick fool around him. But he just made you too happy to not be so touched by his actions. He may be a little dumb sometimes...and a little annoying, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Hyunjin continually shows that he genuinely cares about you, which you appreciate greatly. And this was another thing to add to the "Reasons why Hyunjin is Perfect" book.

"Okay okay, fine." you sigh and shrug limply, "I overworked myself."

Hyunjins brows furrowed, "That's it?"

You glared at him.

"No no no, I didn't mean it like that." Hyunjin straightened his back and waved his hands in front of him dismissively. "I mean, you're embarrassed about that?"

"Well, yea…" You rubbed your arm. "Fainting in the middle of class is kind of embarrassing, its a lot of unwanted attention and all because I thought I could do more than I was capable of. I wasn't sleeping or eating or resting and...yea."

"Hey it's okay," Hyunjin encouraged, "It wasn't more than you were capable of, it just shows you have big ambitions! You just need to learn to take care of yourself better, got it? You're one of the hardest working people I know, and I don't want you putting yourself down."

When you wouldn't answer or look him in the eye, Hyunjin stood up. You weren't sure what he was doing since you could only see his feet and legs, but when you lifted your chin up, you saw him with arms wide open. A soft look in his eyes and welcoming arms, he was offering you a hug. And you began to tear up at the touching gesture.

You sniffed once, then twice, then basically sprang up to tackled him in a hug. The stress you've been accumulating just pouring out of you all at once. The tears came quickly, and in a steady stream, as you buried your face in his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. You were sure you looked like a mess, you could see it now. Red face, messy hair, shaky breaths. Yet Hyunjin rubbed your back calmly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

It was hard to tell how long you cried into his shoulder, it could've been a couple minutes to a half hour. But you were absolutely grateful to Hyunjin at that moment. You were about to make a comment on how he was your steady rock, but you heard a sniffle. And it wasn't from you.

"If you keep crying, then you're gonna make me cry." Hyunjin laughed as he wiped the small tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, you're just a big soft sweetheart." You cooed teasingly and pinched his cheek, your sniffles turning into amused giggles. Hyunjin grimaced and swatted your hand away gently, but then wiped the tears from your stained cheeks.

"I'm okay with being a softy if that's what it takes to keep you happy." Hyunjin smiled at you once again, igniting the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

You rested your head on his chest and mumbled, "If it's you, I'll always be happy."

Hyunjin untangled himself from your grasp excitedly. The look on his face only meant mischief, "Oh, I just got an idea!!"

"What what what?" You asked, taken aback by his sudden liveliness.

"How about we," He smiled roguishly, glancing towards the door before back at you "skip the rest of our classes for the day. And go out for something to eat."

"Well," You began, unsure. "I want to catch up on homework, and I still have that project due next week."

Hyunjin gave you a look, deadpanned and wry. "Really? Okay, I'll convince you. You need to eat since you just passed out, and I'll treat you to some quality food at like, Denny's or iHop or something. Then afterward, we'll just chill and hang out. Which, in the long run, will reduce stress levels and make you more productive later. Okay?"

The room was silent for a while as you thought about it, a frown settling onto your face. That it until Hyunjin pouted at you, and you were hooked.

"Ugh, okay fine, I'll go!" You sighed while Hyunjin silently celebrated his tiny victory, his arms shot up straight in the air. Despite your hesitation to go, seeing Hyunjin so animated got you laughing along with him as well.

It wasn't hard to sneak past the nurse, she was still sleeping. And Hyunjin wasn't kidding when he said he slept with her eyes open; she was still sat up and staring. But even calling her name didn't faze her.

You and Hyunjin shared a look before laughing and slipping past the door. Even leaving the school wasn't hard at all. You just walked out, and that was that. You were surprised.

"It's that easy?" You wondered, "And you seem to know what you're doing."

"It's all in the confidence, if you look suspicious, then they will be suspicious. Honestly, I've never skipped in the middle of class before." Hyunjin laughed and fished out his car keys. "But you couldn't tell, right?"

You shook your head, "I was beginning to think you skipped regularly."

"Nope." He feigned offense and look down at you, hand on his chest and nose all scrunched up. "What, you think I'm some kind of thug??"

With eyebrows raised in amusement, you snorted at the thought. Hyunjin was not thug material, and he knew that. You gave Hyunjin a quick up and down look, "Definitely not."

Once in the car, Hyunjin focused on getting the two of you to your destination in one piece. While you were left the responsibility of being DJ, so you hooked your phone up and began scrolling through your music.

While picking between playlists, your phone rumbled, and you got a text. Mildly interested, you switched your attention to that conversation instead.

From Lix [12:51]: Hey hey hey y/n :P

To Lix [12:51]: lol what is it?

From Lix [12:52]: Did Hyunjin tell you?

To Lix [12:52]: what?

From Lix [12:53]: He was tearing up when he heard you fainted, he was v worried about you

From Lix: [12:53]: He kinda looked like a lost puppy lol, v sweet

Well, Hyunjin didn't tell you that, but you wouldn't put it past him. You knew Hyunjin had a soft heart, and it honestly touched you how worried he got about you. But that wouldn't stop you from teasing the hell out of the poor boy. You grinned to yourself as you thought up a reply. Before you could, Felix beat you to it.

From Lix [12:55]: You guys should just date already lol

You sputtered as you took a quick glance at Hyunjin driving, blushed, and looked back down at your phone. The thought of dating Hyunjin has definitely crossed your mind before, and it surely was now.

To Lix [12:55]: pay attention in class.

After replying, you chose a random playlist and shut your phone off, not wanting Felix to get you even more nervous. But you did take the opportunity to tease your buddy, "So...Felix just told me you were tearing up after you heard I fainted?"

"Ah…" Hyunjin sighed, but you saw the tips of his ears growing pink, "Felix should learn to withhold some information."

"No, no, I think he's perfectly fine." You laughed, looking at him endearingly. "Besides, it's sweet. You're my little worrywart."

Hyunjin smiled at your words, and he glanced at you, stars in his eyes, "As long as I'm yours."

A/N: I’m so slow at requests wow lol. But yea, this was a request from an anon! Hope you enjoyed it hehe, it was something quick to post while I work on my bigger projects too

[ughseoks-main]

Snapshot - [Chapter 3]

summary: A mysterious girl with a special power ends up on the Avengers’ front doorstep after running from Hydra. A boy with chocolate brown eyes and a heart of gold vows to protect her at all costs.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: fighting/minor violence, kidnapping, death, lots o’ angst, they’re mean to her at hydra 

a/n: whoooweee we made it to the end (i think lol)!! sorry for the huge gap between this chapter and the previous one, it’s been a little rough at school. anyways, i really hope you guys enjoyed this short series! be sure to let me know what you think & send me any requests for future fics/series that you want here :) (also im v sorry for this ending oops)

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | series masterlist

Light flooded your eyes as you opened them, jerking forwards in the bed you were laying in. Before you could sit all the way up, you felt a hand press on your shoulder, gently guiding you back down.

“You need to rest,” you heard Peter’s voice as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights, “Thank God you’re okay, Y/N.”

Peter’s soft voice put you slightly more at ease, but it didn’t make you any less confused. Once you could see, you glanced over him, noting that he had no injuries.

“Peter,” you said slowly, looking up into his chocolate eyes, “I thought you got shot. What happened?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, slightly confused.

“Right before I passed out, I heard a gunshot. I thought that the man shot you?”

“Oh!” he gave you a light smile, “That wasn’t him shooting, it was Natasha. She actually shot him. Multiple times. Probably more than necessary, but she was really angry, so there wasn’t any stopping her.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I guess she’s gotten pretty attached to you,” he gave you another smile, picking up your hand and giving it a light squeeze, “We all have.”

You returned the smile with uncertainty, unable to shake the feeling of wrong inside of you. Scanning your surroundings, you couldn’t pinpoint anything particularly wrong; something just felt off. Shaking your head a little bit, you wrote it off as a side effect from being knocked out. After a moment, you felt a wave of sleepiness overtake you, attempting to pull you back into darkness.

“Y/N, no, don’t fall asleep,” Peter’s face was suddenly overcome with alarm as he leaned forward in his seat, gripping your shoulders, “You’ve gotta stay with me, can you do that? Please, Y/N, stay with me.”

Even though you were trying your hardest, you just couldn’t keep your eyes open. Your head fell backwards onto the pillow as your body went slack, falling back into the endless void of sleep as Peter shook your shoulders.

Groaning, you woke up with a pounding headache, the throbbing making the bright light shining down on you almost unbearable. Similar to before, you attempted to sit up quickly and check your surroundings. However, instead of being stopped by a gentle hand, you were held back by rough straps buckled down to the surface you were laying on. Instead of laying in a soft bed, you were pressed against a cold, metal table, the chill of it seeping into your skin.

You were laying flat on your back, and hanging above you was a single yellow light. When you attempted to move your head around, the world began to spin, causing you to hiss and squeeze your eyes shut as your heart began to beat faster and faster. Your entire interaction with Peter was just a dream; you really had been kidnapped and taken by HYDRA. Once that settled in, you began to panic, tugging on your restraints with all of your energy as you thrashed around on the table. The rational voice in your head was telling you to save your energy, but the terror of what would come next outweighed all reason.

“You aren’t gonna get out of those restraints,” a deep voice chuckled from the other end of the room, causing you to freeze in place. Two large men dressed in all black stepped into the light, one with jet black hair and the other with fluorescent blonde, causing you to swallow harshly. Tears pricked your eyes as they stepped closer, praying that the team was on their way to save you from whatever HYDRA had in store for you.

________

“What’re we waiting for?” Peter yelled, “Y/N is out there and we need to save her!” The second that they’d arrived back at the compound, Peter had begun devising a plan to save you, refusing treatment for the graze on his arm until they finally rescued you. Tony managed to convince him to let it be bandaged, but only by saying that it would be better for you if Peter had all his strength.

“Pete-” Tony cautioned, trying to calm him down. It was very hard to upset Peter, but the team was actually considering doing nothing about the situation at hand, and that infuriated him.

“God know what they’re doing to her right now! We have to save her, we HAVE TO!” he stressed, tears of frustration spilling down his cheeks. He could feel his entire body shaking as the team exchanged melancholy looks, Tony being the only one able to look Peter in the eyes.

“Pete, we can’t save her. You have to understand that,” he implored, heartbroken by the words he was speaking.

“Why?” this time, Peter’s voice came out weak and small, cracking simultaneously with his soul.

“Because we have to fight Thanos. We have to protect Earth. I love Y/N, you know that, but the fate of the universe is in our hands and we have to hit him with everything we’ve got as soon as possible. Y/N wouldn’t want us to trade the lives of half the universe just for her.” Tony tried to take a step towards Peter, but he backed away, a new bout of determination filling his gaze. “Fine,” Peter squared his shoulders before setting his jaw, “I’ll get her myself.”

________

“Listen up. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” the man with the black hair threatened, his face visibly lighting up as he spoke the last few words.

“If you cooperate, then we won’t have any issues,” the other man interjected, “Now, wanna answer some questions for us?”

“I would never,” you growled, putting on a brave face even though your heart was pounding in fear.

“Well, we gave you the option,” the blonde shrugged and made his way behind you while the other snickered.

You tried to turn and see what he was doing, but it was useless. The way you were strapped to the table prevented basically any movement, which made you ten times more nervous when you heard some rattling behind you. Only a few moments later, something above you blocked out the light, sitting right above your head. It looked like a helmet of sorts, wires sticking out of it each and every way.  With a quick press of a button from the man, the helmet began to lower onto your head, beeping loudly. You knew that the second it was lowered onto your head, they would have access to all of the information you held, which would put millions of people in danger.

“No, no, no, no!” you began to struggle, trying to escape, “P-please, don’t do this, please, people will die-”

You were cut off as the helmet surrounded your head, latching onto you and emitting faster beeps than before. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever came next. After another few seconds, the beeps stopped, leaving the room silent except for your sniffles until it finally turned on.

It was like fire was spreading through your head and body as information was pulled from your brain, piece by piece. You let out a blood curdling scream as your mind was torn apart, the men grinning as information began to pop up on the screen in front of them. You had no idea how long you sat like that, screaming until your throat was raw, until you finally passed out.

When you finally came to again, your head was throbbing and your blood felt like fire. You could hear muffled yelling, the sounds of arguing ringing in your ears as you squinted your eyes open to see the two men growling at each other.

“Boss said we couldn’t run the machine for too long,” the blonde man yelled, “It could fry her brain and kill her.”

“Why should I care? We need the information fast, so we should just take it all in one go,” the other man yelled back, gesturing to you.

“Because,” taking a deep breath, the blonde wiped his face in exasperation, “She needs to be alive in order for us to get the information out. It doesn’t work on dead people.”

You released a breath of relief, hoping that that meant you’d be left alone for the day. If they could just leave, you might have time to think of a plan for escape.

“Fine. But I think we can get a little more out of her today.”

“We’ve gotta give it a little more time-”

“Don’t tell me what to do. Understand?” the man growled, shooting daggers at the blonde. He raised his arms in resignation, taking a few steps back as the man raised his hand to press the button once more.

You braced yourself, knowing that you were about to be swallowed by pain any moment. Just as the man was about to turn the machine on, a large crash came from the corner of the room, causing all three of you to whip your heads to the side.

________

Peter ran down the dark hallway, speeding up once he saw the door to the room you were in at the end of the hall. He didn’t even slow down once he reached the door, opting to kick it in with a loud crash.

The second he was inside, he scanned the room for you, desperate to make sure you were okay. He could feel his heart break into a million pieces once his eyes landed on you, seeing how broken you looked. Your eyes were glazed over with sadness and terror, almost all of the fight having been drained out of you.

With new determination, Peter looked back at the two men, more ready than ever to fight for you.

________

When you turned your head, you saw Peter standing in the doorway in his suit, ready to save you. A small smile graced your lips as you realized that soon, you’d be safe and in his arms. The white eyes on his suit widened for a moment when he saw you, only to narrow in anger when he looked back to the two men.

“Gonna be honest, I thought you guys would be a lot scarier,” he said in a calm manner, seemingly unbothered by them.

“Who the hell are you?” the man next to you growled, walking over to stand next to the other man.

“Can’t believe they really had to send two full grown men to look after one teenage girl. Kinda pathetic for you two, really,” Peter shrugged, “But then again, you should probably be glad that they did. Y/N could beat one of you in a fight in a heartbeat. She’s pretty badass.”

The men whipped out guns, but before they could shoot, Peter had already webbed them and yanked them away. With one swift movement, he lunged forwards, attacking the men with everything he had.

Since your vision was still swimming, you had to close your eyes, which prevented you from knowing what was going on around you. You could hear the sounds of the fight, but you had no idea who was winning. After a few minutes, everything finally went silent and you felt tugging at the straps that held you down.

When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a maskless Peter undoing your restraints while the two unconscious men laid on the floor. Once you were untied, Peter slid an arm behind your back and under your legs, lifting you off of the table and holding you close to his chest.

“You know, I can handle myself,” you said quietly, shooting him a small smirk. He laughed and set you down, but still kept his arm around you so you could lean on him.

When you looked back up, you noticed the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill down his face. You wiped away the first tear that fell with the pad of your thumb, only to feel tears of your own wet your cheeks. Peter pulled you tightly into his chest, small sobs escaping both of your mouths as you cried together.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you cried, causing him to pull you even closer to him.

“I could never leave you,” he whispered into your hair, “Never.”

________

Tony stood there for a moment, shocked by what had just happened. They’d failed. Unless the other had found a way to protect Vision, they’d failed. Thanos would win.

Despite the emotions coursing through him, Tony managed to pull himself together and do what he knew he needed to do.

“Strange, I need you to get me somewhere. I need to make sure they’re okay.”

With a nod, Strange opened up a portal, allowing Tony to step through before he closed it behind him. Taking a deep breath, Tony began to walk down the long, dark, dimly lit hallway.

________

While you were stood there clutching Peter, he suddenly froze, his body going rigid. He then held you tighter than he ever had, beginning to cry harder than he was before.

“I don’t wanna go, Y/N,” he pleaded, “Please, Y/N, please.”

“Pete, I’m right here, you don’t have to go anywhere,” you reassured him, confused as to why he was acting so weird, “It’s okay, I’m here.” Instead of answering you, he pulled back away from you, gazing into your eyes with fear and sadness.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “I’m sorry,” tears falling down his cheeks.

You began to ask him what he meant, but you were cut off when you noticed his body slowly disappearing. “No, no, no,” you began to cry, “Peter, no, you can’t do this to me, please, don’t leave me!”

As his body began to disintegrate, you were left clutching dust, a cry escaping your mouth when the last part of his face was gone. A numb feeling spread throughout you as you let his ashes sift through your fingers, your knees hitting the cold ground below. You could feel your heart breaking, disbelief trying to take over to shield you from the truth. Peter was gone. You had no idea how, but he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the sound of the door being shoved open once more. Looking up slowly, you saw the blurry face of Tony standing in the doorway.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked, concern filling his voice, “Wait, where’s Peter? Y/N, what happened?”

You couldn’t answer, so you just sat and stared at him with tears in your eyes. As much as you tried, words couldn’t find their way out of your mouth. You felt nothing. Tony ran over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. Much to his horror, the second he did, it disappeared from underneath his hand. With a quick glance down, you could see your body disintegrating, but it didn’t phase you. You simply looked back up at Tony, letting a single tear slip down your cheek as you looked into his broken eyes.

They were the last thing you saw before everything faded to black and Tony was left standing alone in your and Peter’s ashes.

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[littlev1234]

You, Me, Selfishly

Fandom: Fire Emblem Fates

Characters: Leo, Niles (not written as romantic, but you’re free to read it that way)

Warnings: brief talk of assisted suicide, plans for suicide, violence

Words: 2,201

AO3 Version: You, Me, Selfishly 

Note:  So uhhhh this is just self-indulgent AU angst I wrote during breaks at work. Because of that it's pretty messy, but I figured hey, might as well post it in case anyone else is in the mood for feels with King Leo and Niles.

~~~~~~~~~~

“…Niles.”

Niles straightened from where he’d been hunched over King Leo’s desk. All documents, some half-finished or marred with ink blots, lay on one side. Wood oil, Niles’ bow, and a worn quiver covered the rest.

Rising from his seat, he turned to the fever-glazed eyes watching him. A sheen of drying sweat coated Leo’s too pale skin, and his cheekbones stood out in sharp relief without any fat left to round his face. But his focus didn’t waver as Niles walked to his bedside; the other’s mind was having a rare break in the fog of illness.

“Drink some water, milord.” He helped the younger man slowly sit up before grabbing the untouched glass on the nightstand.

Leo’s mouth tilted downward in a grimace—he must be feeling nauseous again—but he allowed him to put the cup to his lips. After two minuscule sips he shakily waved it away.

“How close are the Hoshidans?”

“They’re traveling quickly. I hear they will reach the castle by tomorrow.”

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the action could alleviate what was surely a pounding headache. “…I see.”

“All of our available troops will defend the castle. I have a small force inside as well.” The remnants of the Nohrian army still loyal to the king were under-equipped and malnourished, but he didn’t have to mention that. The blond already knew the horrendous odds better than anyone. Niles had tried to rally anyone he could while the other was bedridden. He’d even scoured the underground for criminals he could bend to his will.

“I want to move you to one of the hidden rooms before I set the traps,” Niles added.

Leo nodded, yet his fingers weakly twisted in the blankets. The retainer couldn’t blame him. Leo was a king with a dying kingdom, a sick patient worsening by the day, and a boy who missed his family. His desperate grasp on his suffocated pride had to slip even further to agree to hiding.

“You must swear to me,” Leo suddenly said.

“Swear what?”

He attempted to take a deep breath, which ended in a wet cough instead. “…you will not let them capture me.”

“Of course—”

“I would rather die by your hand than face their wrath alone.” His gaze shifted away, and his strained voice further quieted. “Regardless of how much I deserve it.”

Eye wide, Niles opened his mouth to protest. His liege’s death could not be decided so easily. Leo was young and smart and powerful, still was, he just needed time to recover—

“I refuse to be the last one. Please. Let me keep being selfish.” Leo slumped against the pillows, and he’d grown paler with the effort of speaking so long.

A harsh breeze blew outside and caused the old window sill to creak. After it stopped, the king’s labored breathing was the only noise to keep silence at bay. Beyond the bedroom door nothing could be heard—no siblings walking the halls, nor servants fulfilling duties.

Calloused fingers picked up a thin hand. Niles dropped to one knee.

“I won’t leave you on your own.” He gently pressed Leo’s knuckles to his own chest, over his heart. “You have my word.”

---

There was a tickle in the back of Niles’ throat.

He swallowed hard against it and set the last trap.

He then glanced back at Leo, who slept through his latest fever spike. A damp rag lay on his forehead, and his breaths sounded shallow and fitful. However, the fact that he was breathing at all was enough to fuel Niles’ determination.

As the archer stretched his limbs, he ignored the heaviness draped over his body like a blanket. He should have guessed all the stress, lack of sleep and food, and being around Leo nearly 24/7 would slam his immune system. With the Hoshidans arriving any minute, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the illness hitting him full force yet.

Muffled through the thick stone walls, the sounds of blades clashing and shouts of challenge arose.

Leo didn’t stir. Hopefully he would stay unconscious through whatever happened next. Niles pulled the curtain around the bed closed.

All too soon, the floor shook as what must be an army burst through the massive grand entrance doors. Niles readied his bow.

Crashes in the bedrooms. Brief quiet, like they were confused to find their target wasn’t there. Then spread out footsteps and rattles of armor as they started to search.

Then, what he’d been waiting for: cords snapping as traps launched arrows, knives, and mini bombs.

Niles knocked an arrow.

He released it the moment the door swung open. It embedded into someone’s shoulder, and in one smooth motion he loosed another one.

The glint of shruiken made him pause long enough to doge the projectile flying at him. That was all it took for a female ninja to be upon him and force him on the defense. He blocked one, two, three blows—

“Kagero!”

She jumped away, and he was greeted by a fireball. With Hoshidans crowding the front of the room and his unwillingness to draw attacks too close to Leo, he couldn’t effectively avoid it. Flames struck his left arm, burned through clothing, and seared skin. The damage extended from shoulder to elbow, and he knew trying to fire arrows with this injury would take too long. Grunting at the pain, he dropped his bow and pulled a dagger from his belt.

“Halt,” a commanding, deep voice called out.

Niles paused, if only for the sake of putting off his and Leo’s inevitable fate. A large man in red armor stepped forward.

“I am Ryoma, King of Hoshido,” he introduced. “There is no need to keep fighting. You’ve already lost. Surrender and we will be merciful to you both.”

Between panting breaths, Niles gave a wild grin. “Yeah, I know the outcome. But I can still take you down with us.” Suddenly he had taken exactly three steps back to loop his finger around a previously hidden string behind Leo’s desk. It was connected to a volley of makeshift bombs, far more than he’d put in the halls, and it would easily destroy anything in the room.

Ryoma stiffened, and the soldiers around him snapped into fighting stances. Several showed wariness and sported gashes or burns from previous traps.

The sound of a curtain’s swish had Niles throwing his dagger without a single thought. It lodged into the wall and left a deep slice in Kagero’s shoulder. She released the curtain to press a hand to the injury, what was done had been done. Leo had been revealed.

A gust of surprise flew through the thick, tense atmosphere in the room. All eyes witnessed the King of Nohr’s gaunt face and raspy breathing.

A soft gasp came from a redheaded healer—the youngest princess, Sakura, if Niles remembered right. Hands covering her mouth, she had leaned around Ryoma to see better, and palpable pity shone on her face.

“When did he become this ill…?” Ryoma muttered.

Niles clicked his tongue. The noise startled the enemies out of their surprise, and attention returned to him.

It was inevitable they’d discover Leo’s condition. However, it still felt like Niles had lost any pretense of advantage he’d clung to.

“Ask an artist to take a picture. It’ll last longer.” His icy tone belied his words. Blood pounded in his ears. “But I’d much rather you keep those intense looks on me.”

Composure returned, Ryoma spoke once more. “Your king is in no condition for this to be dragged out. The sooner you surrender, the sooner we can take him to our doctors.”

An empty chuckle erupted from the retainer’s throat. It started low, grew into a disbelieving cackle, and then dissolved into damning coughs.

“…you think I’ll believe it’s that easy? That if I give up, you won’t kill me and show off my liege like a trophy?”

“There has been enough bloodshed,” the Hoshidan king insisted. If Niles didn’t know any better, he would have thought the wrinkles on the other’s face deepened with a war-weariness. “We won’t kill you if you come peacefully—”

“Torture, then.” His single eye met the other’s gaze. “I must warn you, I am a tough one to break.”

Several of his opponents looked startled by the accusation, and Ryoma quickly shook his head. “No. We do not torture our prisoners. Your safety, as well as King Leo’s, is assured.”

Niles scoffed.

The little princess, shoulders hunched but determination steadying her legs, took a small step forward. “P-Please. He’s not going to last much longer. Wh-What use would making us k-kill you be?”

“I won’t let it be by your hands,” he murmured.

Her mouth gaped, and, damn, he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Too late now.

Ryoma made to speak again, but Sakura abruptly continued. “I understand! W-Well, not exactly, but I know you care so much about him. Like how Hana and Tsubaki would do anything for me, y-you’re trying to fulfill the king’s wishes as much as possible.” She straightened and, despite the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, her chin was raised high. “I beg you. Neither of you will be harmed, and we will do everything we can to save him. You may stay by his side no matter where he goes and have the right to choose who interacts with him until he is well. I give you my word as princess of Hoshido.”

The people around her appeared stunned. Niles hardly noticed; his mind was too busy twisting around the idea.

She seemed honest, but that meant nothing. Or Ryoma could override her decision. It was highly likely that such a deal would last only until Niles had no more strength to resist. Naturally it was also possible that this was all a ruse to lower his guard.

…but there was that tiny, tiny chance surrendering could save Leo’s life.

If Leo were awake, he knew the blond would refuse. The potential humiliation of being a war prisoner and prize may be more than the younger’s battered psyche could bear. There was also his request, which rang incessantly in his ears. It could be impossible to avoid separation since they’d be at the mercy of the enemy’s whims.

That left Niles with a dilemma: should his loyalty go toward Leo’s survival, or Leo’s will?

His fingers released the string.

I’m sorry, milord. I’m a selfish man too.

She sighed in relief, and Ryoma nodded in acknowledgement of his decision.

“We appreciate your choice.” The corner of Ryoma’s mouth tugged upward in a tired almost-smile. “We can finally end this war.”

“I stopped caring about the war a long time ago.” Half-turning away, Niles walked to the bedside. His muscles stayed bunched, waiting for a sword between his shoulder blades that never came.

“I have to move you,” he apologetically murmured. He slid one hand under his knees and the other under his back. Pain flared along the charred part of his arm, and it took every ounce of willpower not to flinch back.

A footsteps. “One of us can—”

Niles didn’t turn around. “Touch him and you will know the wrath of a hundred hells.”

That warning, oozing dark promise, was enough to stop whoever it was. He didn’t care to know who.

He lifted Leo up. His arm screamed as the weight pulled at raw skin, but he kept his hold steady. Nothing less than amputation would make him put Leo down right now. Other than a particularly harsh shuddering breath, the Nohrian king didn’t stir.

The retainer turned and started toward the waiting soldiers. Each footstep felt heavy, and he suspected it wasn’t just from physical exertion. When he neared the doorway, several Hoshidans moved to surround him. The damp rag upon Leo’s forehead slipped and landed on the floor. Not that it mattered; it had long since lost its coolness. However, he noticed Sakura start to reach for it, and something not completely unpleasant twisted in his chest.

“He needs a new one anyway,” he said, and she straightened with a jerky nod.

They broke away to allow him through the narrow doorway, and once through they circled him again. His instincts despised being trapped regardless of the foot-wide berth they left him. Ryoma was talking, as well as a couple others. He ignored the conversation in favor of swallowing down oncoming coughs.

Everything moved quickly after that. Soon they were outside, Ryoma announced Hoshido’s victory, and jubilant shouts roared. The few remaining Nohrians either fled or found themselves captured. Niles peered through the slivers where the people of his entourage weren’t quite shoulder-to-shoulder. They were preventing others from receiving a full view of himself and Leo, for now. It must be obvious to everyone who was being hidden, though.

Niles raised his gaze to gray clouds. The familiar sight offered him an anchor amid the overwhelming bustle around him. Cold winds snuck through his entourage to chill his face and hands.

“Maybe a little sunlight will do us both good, eh, milord?” he whispered to the too-warm boy in his arms.

[funkypoacher]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @evilbunnyking (thanks hun!! <3 ) tagging @sirladysketch (srry for tagging you constantly :P) @manicparadox @biggreenfeet and @redinkofshame. I really cant remember which of my ‘to-tag’ lists of people are writers/are actively writing. If you are writing but I didn’t tag you, tag me with your WIP and I’ll add you to my list!

I got... just... so much shit I really need to get done.

The Lunatic At Large (chapter one of Shenko series)

“Let’s just get to Mars first; follow through on what Hackett wants. Then we’ll see,” Kaidan advised pragmatically. He added, quietly, “can’t imagine planning three steps ahead is going to do any good in a war like this, anyways.”

Previously focusing on getting her greaves in order, Shepard stared. “Am I hearing Kaidan Alenko—Kaidan Alexis Alenko—suggesting anything other than a Plan B will save us?”

In response, he smiled almost bashfully.“No, no; not—not necessarily. I’m just saying we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Count our chickens, and all that. We’ve got to trust that the brass knows what they’re doing.”

Shepard laughed loudly. “Sure! And maybe if they refuse to acknowledge the Reapers again, they’ll just go away. Say ‘sorry, pal’, pay the bill for damages, and hoof it back to deep space.” Her good humour fell away. “C’mon, Alenko. You can’t have forgotten what happened the last time the Alliance got wind of Reaper activity, can you? Actually”—and she knew bitterness was pointless, but she still hurt—“actually you could have forgotten, couldn’t you? In fact, you did forget, as I recall.”

Let’s Play (chapter three)

Carefully disrobing the paddy like a lover instead of imitation-beef served by hair-net toting vorchas, Shepard put it to her lips, inhaled deep, and took a large, slow chomp. Chewing, swallowing, she licked the corner of her mouth and sighed.

“Mmm. So good. I swear I haven’t sat down or eaten since I saved a certifiably fertile krogan female, thus basically curing the genophage. So it’s been a while.”

“Uh huh,” Kaidan grunted.

Shepard measured his total disconnect from reality and absolute preoccupation with her food. It was bad. Sinking her teeth in once more, she moaned as the meat hit her throat, consuming with relish the burger that had no relish.

But Kaidan’s pitiful expression—complete with nearly salivating lips—finally made Shepard laugh hard around her food. The spell was broken.

The Major’s eyes narrowed. “You’re playing me,” he realized, voice raw with betrayal. “You’re doing this to torture me!”

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed.

Shepard plunged a hand into the take-out bag and presented Kaidan with his very own.

“Got you two,” she said. “And there’s fries.”

The Mystery of Pain (chapter four)

It might’ve been another lifetime ago, and it might’ve been five minutes. Since Kaidan last walked the Normandy, Commander Shepard had been in The Shit so often it was hard to scrape off. When she thought of hauling the Major’s ass from the Mars archives to the ship’s medbay, it seemed like the latter: five minutes ago. Which, although unrealistic, the man usually bounced back like a rubber ball, so why not?

As she looked at him now from a step behind, it felt like five minutes ago, too. She recognized the familiar stance and cologne; heard his unchanged soldier’s gait as boots scraped over the grating. Not only did the weeks since leaving Earth melt away, but the years before, too. Walking beside him seemed as natural or mundane as the passage of time; the passage of, say, five easy minutes in which they’d maybe even razzed each other on the elevator about grey hairs and worse-for-wear crow’s-feet.

When Kaidan looked Shepard straight in the eye, however, it was different. Worlds different. It was painful. It was a lifetime. She lost a lifetime looking at him, and it had been a lifetime since he’d last been here.

“C’mon, Hes,” he’d scowled, saying her name like it was the last time. “Look at us. This can’t end well. Just… put it down.”

She tightened her grip on the gun. The rattling, clicking sound was only slightly thicker than her resentful, pain-stricken reply. “Would I do this if I weren’t that certain, Kaidan? Would I?!”

He’d had a gun on her. For minutes. For the length and breadth of bargaining in which she’d convinced Kaidan to stand down. He’d trained his pistol-sights over her heart while they both begged, equally salient, for the other to come to their senses. They could have pulled their triggers and it’ve been just another mess in an immensely unjust war. They could have pulled their triggers, and he could have goddamn shot her.

Five minutes; a lifetime: these were nothing to the ten seconds it took to realize that professionalism didn’t mean shit when it all came down to stand-offs between allies. She’d been busting her hump trying to forget their history for the sake of bigger fish and fighting for the galaxy, but now, walking the hangar with him, Shepard was exhausted, jittery, and confused to the point that it was manifesting in a splitting, disconcerting headache.

She stared at him and tried not to.

She Does Not Brave The War (Solavellan prompt for ‘kiss in a dream’)

To come here was to face spring waters once the frost had fled. To feel through the Fade for this moment was like tempting thin ice with sure footing. Each solid step was an offering for which one might be rewarded with the swallowing cold; every tiptoe, though traded for courage, something to be repaid by faltering, fracturing ice.

“When did you know?” he’d asked.

It wasn’t grit that got into her limbs and gave them life beyond her sense. It wasn’t daring that did away with caution and carried her further than she ought. She experienced no heart-in-throat ecstasy of walking carelessly over a faintly frozen pond. She felt no bravery—only a chill.

“Maybe I didn’t,” she answered.

Solas and Ma’ven stood some feet from one another, empty, dead air between. It was her own fault, she figured, because this was her dream: winter without remorse; details mangled or missed by a livid body. This memory—accessible due to Solas’ past lessons—was less than a moment while disregarding definition wholesale. It was of Solas standing pensively sometime ago, yet that was all: context had been washed like the dirt off one’s hands. At the time she’d been too flustered, her heart so hurried, that the only impression left on her mind had been that of Solas looking thought-filled. And here she came in her weaker moments, years later, when alone with courage crumbling.

Usually she spoke to the thing. Usually she paced around the visage of Solas, talking of her ineptitude, as it stared straight on. Never she did kiss it, and, naturally, never did it kiss her back.

Until today.

Solas scolded playfully. “A dozen times you’ve dreamed of this place and never deviated from your custom. You depart directly after speaking with the spirit. Today, of course…” He seemed afraid to even name what had passed between them. Instead, he let a small smile bloom across his lips and asked again, softly, “when did you know?”

Hitched (Blackwall/Lavellan smut prompt for ‘pretending to be married’)

The wind was a whining. It rained. The downpour, neither bluster nor mild, steadily promised to sop the body and freeze bones as it birthed streams, bogged creeks, and bloated rivers like a corpse.

Pushing against the barn door with a bruised shoulder, gritting his teeth with quiet complaint, Thom kept their alms close: blanket, lamp, bread; wine. Bad wine, most likely—gone orange and sharp with age—but he hadn’t expected more from a Marcher called out of bed at midnight during sowing time. So he’d said his thanks, pressed four more coins into the their palm (plus rent for the night’s roof), and left.

Pushing open the barn door still hurt like a bitch, though.

Inside, it was clean: a cow shed repurposed to hold hay-piles which would have been better-off sheaved, but that wasn’t for Thom to say. Across the barn’s expanse lay a tall, thick carpet of yellow grasses dried in the sun which still smelt decent. Collapsed in its midst, arm and legs sprawled, was his companion.

By the time he was closing the door, Thom saw that he’d startled her. Her reaction cooling as he came in proper, she stubbornly refused to shiver, so her body was rigid with compunction.

Carefully taking the lamp from his loaded arms, she placed it on a stool. He’d be the one lighting it, however. Their flint had taken to mocking her one-armed attempts at finding a flame.

“Just the one, huh?” Vinya asked, admiring the fleece blanket that had been laid out for the sake of drying before they tried for shut-eye. “Going to be a cold night for one of us.”

“We can take turns,” Thom suggested optimistically, shedding his cloak. His gloves came off, too. “Would prefer one of us on watch, anyways. That tavern outside Markham… Well, it left a lot to be desired, let’s leave it at that.”

He was rubbing his hands when she brought him the loaf. Breaking it down the center, he handed her half.

[lazulia-fics]

Getting Dirty (Starlight Express fic, Flat-Top/Purse, NSFW)

Oh look, another entry in my “someone on Tumblr dared me to write a random rarepair fic” series. Here we have Flat-Top and Purse, enjoying a little dirty time.

It’s NSFW and tucked away behind a cut. Nothing kinky to speak of, no warnings beyond adult content. You can skip if you’re not comfortable reading it, I don’t mind in the least.

Tagging @thesodorcollective and @exdraghunt, since we were discussing this on Discord. Also @all-alone-in-the-moonlight, as I seem to recall us discussing a few HCs for this pairing. We never did come up with a ship name, did we? :P

Grime, dirt, muck. The air in this dive of a place was thick with it, a filthy mist of coal, brick, and gravel dust.

Purse shuddered. He could already feel it seeping into his plating, settling into his pristine seams and joints. He could taste it, could practically feel it dulling the shine of the glitter he wore on his face. He was used to the sterile cleanliness of the places electrics went to socialize, bright spotless clubs with gleaming walls and glowing lighting and filled with hushed, high-class conversation.

In this place, even the conversation was filthy. Purse passed a slate truck who was quite busy gyrating his pelvis for the benefit of his friends, evidently recounting last night’s conquest, and shouldered his way past two sloppy, inebriated coaches. One of them made a sound that could generously be interpreted as a whistle. Purse pretended not to hear it.

The money truck rolled with stoic grace all the way to the bar, debated whether to dust the stool, and sat down with a defeated sigh, trying to decide what to do with his arms before laying them on the bar top. He was already going to have to scrub himself raw after leaving this place. And take something for the headache pounding at his temples, thanks to the dirty, stuffy atmosphere of this place.

He’d barely had time to lock eyes with a stain on the bar top when a truck slid into the seat next to Purse. “Well well well. What do we have here?”

Purse gave him a bored, slightly disgusted look. A brick truck. He was as dirty as any truck here, covered in gravel dust and coal, a spare brick embedded in his helmet just in case anyone forgot what his job entailed, an insufferably cheeky look on his face as he looked Purse up and down. “Name’s Flat-Top. Come here often, gorgeous?”

Yes, actually. “I’m here on business.”

“Business, eh? Yeah, I got business too. We all got business.”

Purse didn’t bother with a reply. Somewhere in the distance, a truck released a string of profanity to rival Wrench the time she dropped a welding mask on her foot.

“We don’t get a lot of electrics down here,” Flat-Top remarked. Purse heard the scrape of a container on the bar top and glanced down to see Flat-Top pushing a drink in his direction. Purse turned his nose up at it. “Most of the time they think this place is too, uhh…”

“Dirty?” Purse coolly offered.

Flat-Top snorted and took a gulp of his own drink. “Dirty’s a word. Too much dignity to roll around with the freight, yeah? And you sure look like a truck with lots of… dignity.” He made a great show of looking up and down Purse’s body, making it clear he had another word in mind in place of ‘dignity’. “Yep, nothing breaks your composure, hm?”

Purse elegantly rolled his eyes, his attention momentarily drawn to two trucks dancing in a nearby corner, as though somehow they could hear the music above the roar of the crowd. Before long it was less dance and more of an obscene grind and soon a rather obscene kiss. Purse scoffed. Electrics would never get up to such behavior in a public area.  

Flat-Top loudly cleared his throat, catching Purse’s attention again. “Looks like you might be here a while. Maybe while you’re waitin’ for your business, you could--”

Flat-Top grabbed his arm. The gesture was somewhere between flirtatious and obnoxious. In either case, the hand left smudges on his plating. Purse shuddered. “Don’t touch me.”

“Hey, I jus’ thought--”

“Not here.”

A look of… disappointment, maybe, crossed Flat-Top’s eyes before he downed his drink and cocked his head toward the side of the bar. “There’s the alley--”

Purse was on his wheels before the brick truck could finish his direction.

The alley behind the freight bar was exactly what one would expect—weak, flickering lighting, punctuated by the occasional flashing lights in the far distance, the thick, grimy dust suspended in the spotlight of the overhead lamps.

Voices, some sober, most drunken, spilled from the bar and the nearby roads. Slightly more private than the bar, but still disgustingly public. Anyone could stumble upon them here.

And before Purse could analyze the locale any further, his back met the brick wall with a thump that made him wince in pain and surprise, Flat-Top pressing at his front with a brazen smirk.  

They didn’t kiss- Purse quickly whipped his head to the side before Flat-Top had a chance, barely missing the brick truck’s slight look of disappointment before he cut his losses and went for Purse’s neck instead, clumsily biting and licking at it. The low-key pain made Purse’s body shiver with something between lust and disgust, or maybe a healthy mix of both. The ragged brick wall scraped up his back as Flat-Top pawed at him, running his hands all over as though trying to sully him, pushing his fingers into sensitive joints, scrabbling at his pelvis and unlatching the plating with unsubtle fingers.

Purse sighed as his spike, already hard and twitching, landed in the brick truck’s hand. Flat-Top gave him a few rough strokes that turned Purse’s sigh into a ragged moan, the sound extending as Flat-Top went searching further. Purse expected rough fingers shoving inside him; the hesitation made him frown, tightening his grip on the grimy armour beneath his hand.

“S’okay if I…?”

“Yes, do it,” Purse huffed. Impatience made him snappish. He felt the press of thick fingers inside him, sending a jolt of sensation through his body that ended with another moan, just as he felt Flat-Top shuffle between their bodies and unlatch his own plating. The fingers left his body and Purse spread his thighs, as much as he could while stuck between brick and brick, and suddenly he found himself aided as Flat-Top grabbed his thighs, hoisting him up, slamming him against the wall with a satisfying rush that emptied his lungs of air. Purse was impressed; the brick truck was strong. And then Purse was impressed all over again as Flat-Top pushed inside him, stretching him to his limits, leaving him shuddering and gathering dust beneath his nails as he clawed at Flat-Top’s shoulders.

It was fast, and raw, and Purse wondered if his face looked more pained than pleasured as Flat-Top thrust into him, throwing his face into the money truck’s neck again, puffing loud, graceless groans into it. The sound was underscored by the steady rattle of chains Flat-Top wore around his body, along with the dull grind of metal and brick on ultra-polished plating.

Sex with Electra and the other Components was high art compared to this. Electrics had a reputation for indulging in enough kinks to make a seasoned sleeper car blush like a virgin. But this tryst in a dark alley scratched an itch Purse never realized he’d had. Getting fucked against a wall was quite tame compared to what he and Joule had gotten up to just that morning, but it wasn’t the act here that was kinky to him, so much as the situation.

“Mmm… so pretty. Don’t see many trucks with a body like yours… yep, you’re special… mm, so classy…”

In the cacophony of Flat-Top’s garbled moans and compliments and Purse’s own stuttered breaths, he almost missed the loud, drawn-out noise the brick truck released, followed by two quick thrusts and the sudden presence of dirty heat inside Purse’s body. He frowned, not expecting Flat-Top to be done quite so quickly, and the brick truck gave him a sheepish, but still satisfied grin as he peeled his face away from Purse’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Flat-Top snorted. He pulled out in a move that made Purse whimper, lowering him back to his wheels, and drew in a stabilizing breath before dropping to his knees in front of the money truck. “Whaddaya expect? Don’t worry, I got ya anyway…”

Purse rolled his eyes, then closed them in pleasure as the brick truck’s tongue made an enthusiastic swipe around the end of his spike. This was followed by a playful nibble of teeth and then a sloppy kiss followed by a sloppy suck, a completely uncoordinated effort that somehow worked really well, leaving Purse breathless and moaning.

The rattle of chains underscored Flat-Top’s soft grunts and sucking noises, a filthy combination of sounds that had Purse writhing against the wall until he felt the bricks dig grooves into his back plating. Before he could stop himself, he scrabbled to grip the edge of Flat-Top’s helmet (he was grabbing and not caressing, of course), following the bobbing motions and watching his spike disappearing into Flat-Top’s eager mouth until Purse found his breath again and groaned as he came, eyes fixed on Flat-Top’s throat as he swallowed until it was all done and pulled away with a smug look of triumph.

“Some business, eh?” Flat-Top smirked, chains jingling softly as he swiped his hand against his mouth.

A little shaky, Purse caught his breath and reached for his discarded plating. Flat-Top handed him the piece with something akin to reverence, the smirk slowly fading to something more subdued.

“Y’know… we don’t have to do it out here all the time. I have a shed. Bed and everything.”

“I know. You keep telling me.”

“So why we gotta meet here every time? You ashamed of me or something?”

“No! I--” Purse cut off his own indignant reply just as Flat-Top’s smirk returned.

“I’m kidding with you! Just sayin’, it’s not always comfortable out there. Pretty sure a rat almost crawled up my arse while I was busy.”

Purse tried and failed to keep from smiling. “I’m not here for anything more, Flat-Top. You know that.”

“Hey, s’okay. You don’t owe me an explanation. Sometimes you just need to get fucked in an alley, you know?”

Such wisdom. Purse’s tiny smile grew a bit. “If you say so.”

“I meant it, y’know. I got a bed. It’s a big one. Real comfortable. Never had an electric in there, but… you’re okay. So you know… yeah.”

“I suppose we’ll see, next time I have business here.”

Flat-Top nodded and shuffled on his wheels as though he expected something more, and tapped the brick in his helmet by way of a parting greeting before rolling back into the bar. Purse watched him go without a word, taking his time before thinking about rolling out of the alley himself.

Grime, dirt, muck. Now he was covered in it. Dirty inside and outside, filthy to the core, and wouldn’t Electra and the Components just be shocked to see him coming home in this condition. Too bad he wasn’t in the mood to shower any time soon.

Purse allowed himself a little grin, glancing down at the smudges and marks Flat-Top left on his body. His back still ached while other parts felt quite pleased. Flat-Top was right; sometimes, one just needed to get fucked in alley. But maybe next time, he wouldn’t mind seeing this bed.  

[aqua-scorpion2020]

Fraxus Week Days 6 & 7: Spoiling Each Other/ Playful Shenanigans

Laxus loved thunder storms. It was one of the few things that could calm him. The flashes of lightning, the roar of the thunder to follow, even the way the house shook after an extremely loud thunderclap helped relax his body and clear his head of troublesome thoughts.

The dragon slayer was grateful when he woke up to the familiar low rumbling of distant lightning. He had a fight with Freed the previous night, and he had been awake and tense for most of it, so the natural sounds provided some comfort.

His mind replayed all of the things he shouldn’t have said and done. As much as he wanted to blame it on the rune wizard’s stubbornness and ability to overthink things, he knew the spat was no one’s fault but his own. 

It had started with some strange guy Laxus saw when he went to a neighboring town with Freed. He was waiting for Freed outside some fancy candle shop, his nose far too sensitive for him to enter a place like that; the strength of so many different aromas gave him a headache. A man walked up to him, saying he was a big fan and wanted to write an article about him to submit to Sorcerer Weekly Magazine. He seemed nice enough, so Laxus obliged. The reporter asked him a slew of questions, some of which he requested not to comment on due to their personal aspect. 

The actions to follow were not so discreet. The journalist began to make comments about some of Laxus’s answers, things like “Working out every day must be what keeps those muscles so nice” and “I’m surprised you look so young after all the trouble you’ve been through in your life. They say stress makes you age faster, but you don’t look a day over twenty.” When Laxus talked he’d bat his eyelashes or lick his lips, neither of which would go unnoticed by the dragon slayer. He was starting to get annoying; he had already told the guy that he was taken, so why did he keep persisting?

“You know, I’m sure you’d be more relaxed if you had a boyfriend who was more ‘fun.’ Don’t you?” Laxus should’ve known that this what what the guy was insinuating the entire time. The reporter leaned in, simultaneously reaching into his bag. “My place, noon on Friday? I look forward to seeing you again.” He slid a business card into the dragon slayer’s hand, closing the fingers with his own and squeezing it before standing. He sent a sly wink at Laxus before strolling away, an exaggerated sway in his hips. 

The dragon slayer was at a loss for words. This guy had dared to try to make a move on him? He would never associate himself with scum like that! 

“Laxus.” Said man whipped around. A disgruntled Freed glared back at him. “I’m finished here. Let’s get back to Magnolia; I don’t wish to be held up by the village swamp rats when the sun goes down.” They left the markets, quickly leaving the town behind them. Laxus had offered to carry the box of candles in Freed’s hands– seriously, why did they need so many candles?– but the rune wizard refused. They walked in silence to their house on the edge of Magnolia, Laxus casting worried glances at his partner’s back from time to time. Why did Freed look so cranky? Did they not have the right candles? Did someone say something rude to him? Maybe he was just being paranoid and all Freed wanted was to get home and relax for a bit.

That didn’t seem to be the case, however. As soon as they were home, the rune wizard stomped into the kitchen and banged the box on the table, making glass candle containers rattle together. 

“Freed?” Laxus asked hesitantly. “Is… Is something wrong?” Freed slowly turned around. His eyes glared menacingly at the dragon slayer.

“Who the fuck was that wretched hussy sitting next to you?” the rune wizard demanded. Laxus could tell this was not going to end well; the charismatic man only resorted to cursing when he was extremely irate.

“He was a news reporter. Who did you think he was? My side ho?”

“You hate journalists. You avoid them like the plague. And you let him get awfully close to you, so yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

“You know, it really hurts me to think that you actually believe that I’d ever cheat on you. After all the things we’ve been through and done together, all the love and compassion I’ve given you, all of the feelings I laid out on the table, you really think that?”

“Well, when he said he wanted to meet you at his house, at five, on Friday and you didn’t say anything, it really sounds like you want to take up his offer!” Laxus was incredibly scared. Sure, Freed had definitely cursed before, but him raising his voice during an arguement was even less uncommon.

“I didn’t even have time to react before he left. Hell, I was still trying to process what he said! Trust me, I wanted to beat the shit out of that guy for even suggesting that!”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Laxus tried to hug him, comfort him in some way, but Freed stepped away. “Don’t FUCKING touch me, Laxus! If you want affection, go to that slut reporter! You’re far more interested in what he had to offer anyway!” The rune wizard was in tears now, his face beet red from the intense anger coursing through his veins.

“Freed, you need to calm down,” the dragon slayer said urgently. 

“Fuck off, asshole!” Freed slapped Laxus’s hand away and ran out of the kitchen. The dragon slayer followed, but Freed was far too quick. He slammed the bedroom door shut and locked it, leaving his partner alone in the hallway. 

“Freed, open this door,” Laxus demanded. He leaned against the door, hoping that the rune wizard would listen.

“GO TRACK DOWN THAT LECHEROUS SKANK THAT LOVES YOU SO MUCH!” Freed screamed back, his voice full of anguish.

“What happened that made you think I’d ever cheat on you?!” Laxus yelled back, desperation fueling his every word. “I’m not leaving you; I love you more than words can say, and I know you know that. If I have to sit outside this door all night for you to believe me, I’ll do it.”

It was times like these that Laxus hated having sensitive ears. Through the door, he could hear the muffled sobs of his partner, a sound that gave him his own reason to shed tears. His biggest weakness was a crying Freed.

His back hit the door, and he slid to the ground in defeat. He meant what he said; he’d sit outside that door the entire night, even if he had to feel his heart shatter into millions of pieces as he listened to Freed’s bawling. 

That was how he ended up in this state. Laying on the floor in front of the bedroom door, his clothes from the day before gone except his boxers, a throw pillow under his head and a blanket tucked around him… Wait. Where did his clothes go? And when did he get a pillow and blanket? 

It was then that he realized the bedroom door was ajar. With caution, the dragon slayer peered inside. Freed was still sleeping, curled up in the middle of the bed, pillows and blankets forming some sort of nest around him. Laxus treaded quietly to the side of the bed for a better look.

The rune wizard was wearing one of the dragon slayer’s T-shirts. Laxus was sure that he left his coat in the kitchen, but Freed must have gone down there to get it as it was wrapped around his lean body. He had the dragon slayer’s pillow clutched in his arms, his cheek resting on it in a way that made his lips puff out. His hair was in a high ponytail; another one of Laxus’s weaknesses.

Suddenly, Freed grimaced. At first the dragon slayer thought that he was going to wake up, but he just turned over in his sleep. The rune wizard mumbled something and started to whimper.

“Don’t… Laxus,” Freed murmured, tossing and turning a few more times. “No… Don’t go with him… Love you… I… so wrong… so wrong. Don’t leave.”

“Babe, wake up,” Laxus crooned, shaking his partner’s shoulder gently. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry! Please… I can’t lose you. Need you… stay… Don’t go!” Tears fell from the rune wizard’s cheeks as he curled into a ball, clutching Laxus’s pillow even tighter than he was before. He was sweaty, his breath hitching in his chest as he began to hyperventilate.

“Freed, wake up!” The dragon slayer shouted.

Freed’s eyes shot open as he screamed, “NO!” 

“Babe, look at me,” Laxus urged. Turquoise eyes met his own stormy gray orbs. “I’m right here. It was just a dream. I’m not leaving you, okay? I promise.” The rune wizard sat up, attempting to ease his respiration. The dragon slayer rubbed his back but gave him room to breathe.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Freed’s respiration slowed to a normal rate. He stared at the wall for a bit before wiping his face, smearing the last remaining droplets across his cheeks. Then he crawled into Laxus’s lap. He clung to the blonde like a monkey, legs and arms clasped around that muscular torso. 

“I love you, Laxus,” Freed whispered.

“I love you more,” the dragon slayer replied, kissing his partner’s cheek. They sat like that for a while, lightning flashing outside the windows. The calming effect of the storm eased last night’s tension from both men.

“I’m sorry I got so carried away,” the rune wizard murmured. “I had an extremely vivid dream last week when you went on that dark guild mission. In the dream you left for that mission, and before you left you said you wouldn’t be back for a while. Then there was some sort of time skip and I was at the market and… and I saw you with another man.” Freed’s sniffling returned. “You guys were holding hands. He… He was wearing your favorite shirt, that purple one you wear a lot. And then… I asked who he was, and… y-you said he was your husband. A-a-and the guy pushed me on the ground. Y-y-you guys laughed at me. He leaned in to kiss you, but I-I woke up before that hap-p-pened.” He was breaking down again, clinging to the bigger man with distress. “The dream this time was similar, b-but near the end, you told me you hated me. Said I was t-too emotional, too small, too girly. The other guy joined you. B-both of you made fun of how I looked. He said horrible things. I-I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t breathe. Everything came c-crashing down on me at one time. You didn’t… l-love me.” He felt something being wrapped around him, then the sensation of swaying back and forth. It took a moment, but he soon realized that Laxus had wrapped his coat around his shoulders and was rocking him gently. 

“You’re the only one for me, Freed Justine,” Laxus said with adoration. “I never… I never believed that I could have a normal life until I met you. I didn’t believe in love until you showed it to me. I thought I was gonna end up like my dad, a heartless, sleazy, egocentric criminal, until you saw me off for my exile after the whole Fantasia incident. I found hope in the fact that I might see you again, that I’d have the chance to make things right with Fairy Tail so that we could someday have a future. Shit… I don’t even wanna think about where the hell I’d be if I hadn’t met you. Remember that when you get those crazy ideas in your head.”

“I will. Thank you, Laxus.” Freed kissed his partner’s shoulder before raising his head to look at him.

“Feel better now?” The dragon slayer wiped away the remaining tears.

“Much better.” The rune wizard placed a peck on Laxus’s scar. “But I still feel like shit for making you sleep in the hallway, so I guess a day full of spoiling you is in order.”

“Mmmh… That sounds nice. But I want you to really understand how much I love you, so I’ll have to spoil you too.”

“I won’t object to that.” Freed flattened a few unruly spikes in Laxus’s hair. “I’ll go make breakfast. I’m starving.”

After a delicious meal of homemade waffles topped with strawberries and whipped cream, Freed and Laxus spent the entire morning cuddled up on the couch watching their favorite movies. The storm never ceased, so the atmosphere was the most relaxed it had been in ages. They were able to enjoy each other’s company to full extent, remaining as close as possible while the films played in the background of their confessions of love and devotion.

When lunch was finished, it didn’t take long for Freed to fall asleep, his body nestled between the dragon slayer’s legs. Laxus took that time to snap a picture of him and the rune wizard together; Freed was too adorable, sprawled across the older man’s chest with his face squished up. He posted the image on MageBook and SnapChatter (which Bickslow forced him to download, since he was going to be taking up the guild master position within the next year or so, so he needed it ‘to keep up with the goings-on in sister guilds’). This was something he didn’t do often, but after their talk that morning, he thought it would be a nice surprise for his partner to wake up to. He’d post a picture of himself and Freed every day if it would assure the rune wizard that he couldn’t picture himself with any other man.

Laxus watched the movie a bit longer before feeling himself being drawn into the beckoning embrace of slumber. He was almost asleep, but opened an eyelid when he heard a knock at the door and the door knob turning. Bickslow and Evergreen entered, setting their umbrella near the coat rack.

“Everything must be going okay?” Evergreen asked quietly, taking off her heels.

“What do you mean?” Laxus queried.

“Freed texted me last night,” the fairy woman replied. “He was incedibly distraught, but I had a feeling he was overthinking what he saw and heard.”

“You’d be right about that. But he’s okay now, so that’s all that matters to me.” Laxus gazed down at his partner, who had mumbled something in his sleep.

“Awe, he’s so peaceful when he sleeps,” Bickslow cooed, grabbing his phone. “Let me get a pic!”

“Just share the one I put on MageBook,” Laxus rolled his eyes, but the seith wizard had already snapped the picture of the rune wizard. 

“Our big, softie Thunder God,” Bicks gushed.

“Shut up.” Laxus and the other two Thunder Legion members conversed quietly for a while, discussing the goings-on in the guild. Apparently things were pretty normal; Natsu and Gray got into a brawl, Mirajane was scheming ways of how to get certain members of the guild together, Erik came to visit Kinana… the usual. 

The dragon slayer felt Freed’s arms tighten around him. He looked down, thinking the rune wizard was about to wake up, but saw a grimace on his partner’s pristine visage instead.

“Shit,” Laxus murmured. “Freed, wake up.”

“What’s wrong, Laxus?” Evergreen asked.

“He’s having another nightmare,” the dragon slayer replied, shaking Freed’s shoulder. “C’mon Freed, wake up.”

“What do you mean, ‘another’?” the seith wizard questioned.

“He had one this morning, and it was really bad. I’d rather wake him up before it gets like that again.” Finally Freed began to stir. His grip tightened a bit at first, but once his eyes were open and he saw Laxus, he relaxed immediately.

“Seriously, how long are these nightmares gonna last?” the rune wizard grumbled. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Try to make it a third time, and I think I can catch on to the truth.”

“That’s good.” The dragon slayer smiled and rubbed Freed’s back. “You’re shaking. It still scared you, didn’t it?”

“A little, but I’m better now.” He leaned up to kiss Laxus, and a camera flashed.

“This is SO going on my Pictagram,” the seith wizard gushed, his fingers already tapping away on his lacrima phone.

“No it’s not,” Laxus replied. “Send that to me. That belongs on MageBook, on my page.”

“You… You’d really post something that lovey-dovey on your MageBook?” Freed asked, his cheeks tinged magenta.

“I tagged you in something like that today.” Laxus shrugged. “This isn’t any different. I think it’s high time I stop worrying about my badass appearance, since I don’t really give a shit either way. If people don’t like that, they can block me. I should be able to post whatever the hell I want, especially if it involves my family.”

While Laxus was talking, Freed opened his MageBook and checked his notifications. He clicked on the icon that said, “Laxus Dreyar tagged you in a post.” The dragon slayer’s post came up, which included three pictures with a discription at the top. The rune wizard read:

After having a huge fight with my boyfriend last night, this is the best thing that could’ve happened today.

I was kind of oblivious to Freed’s feelings last night, which is what started the fight. To shorten the story, some guy from Sorcerer Weekly wanted to interview me and afterwards he was making a lot of suggestive comments. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I just accepted his number and planned to throw it away; after all, I might have been angry, but it doesn’t pay to be rude and I’d never even THINK of cheating on Freed.

We got home and I could tell Freed was mad about something. I asked him about it, and as it turns out, he COMPLETELY misinterpretted the reporter’s comments, believing that I could be cheating on him. Being the idiot that I am, I thought he was overreacting to the whole situation. The argument escalated from there. I was locked out of the bedroom after our screaming match, and since I was too stubborn to move, I sat outside the door and mulled over the whole thing.

That was when it dawned on me that I had to look through Freed’s eyes for a change, replay the scenario through his point of view. Doing that made me realize how bad that must’ve looked. I was up most of the night thinking about how awful he must be feeling.

When I woke up, there was a pillow under my head and a blanket over me. I hadn’t grabbed either of those things, and the door was open, so I could only assume that my amazing boyfriend took it upon himself to tend to my comfort, even if I had been kind of an asshole. He was asleep when I walked in, so I sat by him and waited for him to get up.

Then he started having a nightmare. Apparently I had left on a mission in that dream, and later on he saw me with some other guy who I called my “husband.” Me and this other guy had made fun of him and made gruesome comments about him. Then we left him alone, laying on the ground in a sobbing heap.

That completely broke me. I said to myself, “There’s no way I’ll ever give him a reason to think that he’s not enough.” Because that’s just it; he’s more than a simple boyfriend. He’s the thunder to my lightning, the vodka to my chaser, the fuel to my fire, and the rock to my roll. He’s the smartest, kindest, most amazing person I could ever want.

Today is gonna be his day. I’m gonna spoil him as much as I can just because he deserves it. My two favorite things in this world are Freed’s smile and Freed’s laugh, and I’ll make it my mission to make sure he’s doing those things all day. He deserves to smile. He deserves to laugh. He deserves happiness in whatever form he finds it in.

I love my rune babe with all my heart, and I would do anything to see him smile. 

Freed was shedding tears by the time he was done reading the post. The fact that Laxus had posted that on social media, whe millions of people could see it, was a sweet surprise. It was the most heartwarming thing Laxus had ever done.

“I never would’ve expected this,” he breathed, embracing his partner. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to really thank me for,” the dragon slayer replied, “but you’re welcome. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Freed sighed contentedly. “You’re comfy.”

“Is that a fat joke, Justine?” Laxus poked Freed’s sides. The rune wizard tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but Laxus had a firm grip. He knew how ticklish that spot was, and as his fingers continued to bombard his partner’s rib cage and abdomen, he smirked at the younger man’s reaction.

“I-It wasn’t… eek! You’re not fat!” Freed was laughing and shrieking as he squirmed. “It was… ack! It was an instinctual comment! EEEEEK! Stop! I was comfortable, damn it!” Laxus finally ceased his assault on Freed’s sides, leaving the rune wizard in a gasping, giggling heap on his chest. 

“I think I’m going to get some ice cream,” Freed said. “Anybody else want some?” 

“You know I can’t pass up ice cream,” Bickslow mused.

“I’ll have some,” Laxus said.

“Only if you have that vanilla one with the chocolate and caramel swirl,” Evergreen answered. 

“I’ll be back,” Freed called as he dashed into the kitchen. The sound of silverware rattling echoed into the living room. In under a minute the rune wizard returned, carrying four pint cartons of ice cream.

“The ice cream parlor had these on sale the other day, so I picked up one for each of us. Let’s see…” He began reading the labels and passing them out. “Superman for Bickslow, Chocolate Caramel Sundae for Ever, Raspberry Rumble for me, and Lightning Strike for Laxus.” Instead of giving Laxus his own container, Freed gave him the rasperry.

“This is yours,” the dragon slayer corrected.

“I know,” the rune wizard simpered. “We’re supposed to be spoiling each other, remember? Now open up.” Freed had scooped some of the yellow and blue ice cream onto a spoon and was holding it out for Laxus to take. 

“This is the only reason you wanted ice cream, wasn’t it?” the dragon slayer teased, eating the ice cream off the offered spoon. He scooped a spoonful of raspberry ice cream and held it out for Freed.

“Perhaps.” Freed leaned in to take the utensil into his mouth.

”What’s Lightning Strike?” Bickslow asked. 

“Lemon ice cream with a blueberry swirl,” the dragon slayer explained. “In other words, only the best ice cream in Fiore.”

“Whatever floats your boat, man.” Bickslow watched as Freed and Laxus fed each other ice cream. He took out his phone, but made sure the flash was off this time before taking the video. Mira’s gonna love this, he thought as he sent the clip to the She-Devil over Snapchatter and posted it to his story.

They were all close to halfway done with their desserts when Laxus had a devious idea. He scooped another bite for Freed, hoping it was going to pan out like he wanted. He waited until the rune wizard’s lips grazed the edge of the spoon, then pulled it up over his top lip, smearing ice cream from Freed’s mouth to the underside of his nose.

“And the lightning strikes again!” the dragon slayer shouted triumphantly. He snorted out a laugh when he met the rune wizard’s disgruntled gaze. 

“Awe, Laxus, you just wasted ice cream!” Bickslow whined.

“Did he really?” Freed asked. The three other people in the room gave him a questioning look. Without a word, Freed poked his tongue out, then hooked it up over his lip. The tip of his tongue touched the tip of his nose, and he drug the moistened appendage between his nostrals, effectively removing all traces of ice cream.

“NO!” Bickslow yelled in disbelief. “HOW?! HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO DO THAT?!”

“Why is that so surprising?” the rune wizard queried. “You can almost touch your eyeball with your tongue.”

“You know how much nasty stuff comes out of there!” Bickslow exclaimed in a very Freed-sounding voice. “Gross!”

“Says the one who licks his own face,” Laxus countered, preparing another spoonful for Freed.

“I guess,” Bickslow agreed. “But still! Freed’s always the one telling me what’s sanitary, but here he is, doing something he told me was nasty! Injustice!”

“I only did it to see your reaction,” the rune wizard confessed, resting his legs over Laxus’s thighs. “But believe it or not, I do some sort-of-nasty things every now and then.”

“Like what? Leave your dirty clothes on the bathroom floor?” Evergreen chided, rolling her eyes.

“Precisely.” He ate another bite of ice cream. “And there was that one mission I went on with Laxus where we didn’t get to shower for like four days. My hair was really greasy after that.” He shivered at the memory of running his hands through his scalp on the third day; he could almost feel the ghostly presence of oiliness between his fingers.

“Okay, let’s not talk about nasty shit while we’re eating food,” Laxus cringed. “Some of us like to enjoy our cheat days.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bickslow replied exasperatedly.

“So what’s on your agenda for today?” Evergreen asked the pair on the other couch.

“We’re just gonna chill out here for the day,” Laxus replied.

“Okay. I suppose we can get out of your hair after we’re done with ice cream.”

“What did you guys come over for?” Freed inquired. “Was there something you needed?”

“We just came to check on you,” Bickslow said. “You know; to make sure you guys were okay again.”

“I think we’re okay,” the dragon slayer assured, pulling the rune wizard against him. “It was nice of you to drop by, though. There’s never a dull moment when your Thunder Legion is together, right Freed?”

The rune wizard nodded in agreement. “Definitely, but it’s never quite complete without you around.” 

The group chatted for a while, finishing off the last of their frozen treats before the other Thunder Legion members took their leave. Once again it was just Freed and Laxus, cuddled up on the couch under a blanket. They ordered a delivery of pizza and breadsticks, which they ate on the couch as their movie marathon extended into the late hours of the night.

Laxus gasped as he looked out the window. “Whoa. When did it get dark?”

“No idea,” Freed replied as he yawned. “It’s got to be getting late, though.”

“It felt good to have a lazy day for a change.” The dragon slayer rested a hand on Freed’s hip. “Wish I could’ve taken you somewhere, though.”

“Trust me, I’m completely content with laying on the couch for a day. We rarely get a day for ‘just us’ anymore, you know? And it’s even more rare to find time to relax like this.” The rune wizard turned around in his partner’s lap so that he could wrap his arms on those burly shoulders.

“But?” Laxus saw a naughty gleam in Freed’s eyes. What was he up to?

“But…” Freed’s hand slid slowly down the dragon slayer’s chest. “If you… wanted to get some ‘exercise’ in for today so you don’t feel lazy… I might be up for that.”

Laxus touched the rune wizard’s forehead with his own, their breaths ghosting against each other’s lips. “You know I can’t deny my demon what he wants.”

“Of course I know,” Freed replied in a sultry tone. “After all, you know I like to spoil you in every way.” He whimpered as a hot mouth pressed against his neck, a shiver tingling down his spine. Then their lips met, a long, heated prequel for the workout to come.

Sometimes spoiling was done with gestures and words. Other times it might be with a favorite treat or a day for just the two of them. And when it’s neither of those… well, Laxus and Freed would mentally apologize to their neighbors if they were to hear anything that happened. No matter what form spoiling came in, they always ended up happier and more in love than they ever thought possible.

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

Wow, so this took a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery long time. I kinda decided last minute to put days 6 and 7 together, more because I kind of suffered through this and I feel like I’m already super late on the submission, so yeah… hope it’s not too sloppy and hard to follow. 

I’m kinda having an art block right now as well, so if anyone is waiting for art from me, that’s why. It’s been one of those busy summers where there’s just so much going on I kinda lose my drive to write and draw, and it really sucks. But I’m trying my best. I have a few sketches that are almost finished, so hopefully I can get those up before too long. I’m rambling now, so bye! And thanks for reading my fics! 

[chiccolofans]

Piccolo avoided Chichi for a week. He sat in the back of class instead of the front and went to the dining hall on the opposite side of campus. His phone pinged with messages from her from the first three days but he did not open them.

It was harder to keep away from her in the dorm. He kept his door closed and his lights off when he was there. It was difficult, as he couldn’t study in the library where she would find him. She knew all of his haunts in the library. Studying by a book light meant for nothing more than leisurely pursuits was terrible and gave him a wicked headache. Piccolo winced as his door rattled with the force of a hammer as Chichi pounded on the other side.

“Piccolo! Piccolo please let me in.”

He said nothing and refused to look at the door.

“I know you’re in there. Piccolo. Piccolo please open the door.”

He put his head in his hands and tried to ignore her at the door.

“Piccolo. Open. This. Door.” Each word was punctuated with a bang on the door. He slipped his elbows down and let his head hit the desk. “Piccolo? Piccolo, I heard you. I heard you in there. Please open the door,” there was a desperation in her voice that tugged at his chest. He swallowed. He stood, letting his chair fall back with a clatter. He walked to the door, and opened it wordlessly, nearly taking a punch in the chest as Chichi moved to slam again on his door.

“What do you want?” His sneer was half hearted as he glowered down at her. Chichi glared right back up him.

“What the hell is going on with you? We’re supposed to be friends. But you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“Well shit, I fucking wonder why?” Piccolo leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and doing his best to maintain eye contact.

“Look, what I did was wrong, I shouldn’t have kissed you. We were drunk and Bulma- ”

“Oh good, we were drunk. Thats just excellent. I don’t care. I don’t care that you kissed me I -” he stopped, biting his tongue. He looked away.

“You don’t care that I kissed you? Then why are you avoiding -”

“Because Bulma dared you to kiss the ugliest person at the party and you picked me. You kissed me, then pulled away when I had the gall to reciprocate because what the hell was the ugly alien freak thinking, kissing a pretty girl when it should have been obvious that it was all a joke. That’s why I’m avoiding you. Now go away and let me be.” He stepped back and tried to close the door but Chichi blocked the door.

“That’s not what happened.”

He tried harder to close it but she braced against the door.

“Bulma said ‘you sure know how to pick them, don’t you?’ and laughed. That’s exactly what happened. What else would she be saying?”

“She didn’t dare me to kiss the ugliest person, Piccolo. She didn’t.” He hesitated, ears twitching at the conviction in her voice. She eased his hand from the door and stepped into his room, staring up at him with her captivating dark eyes that haunted his dreams. He took a step back, and she forward. “She dared me to kiss the person I liked the most at the party. I pulled away because I didn’t... I didn’t know what to do when you kissed me back. I thought maybe it was just because we were both drunk and I didn’t want that. I’ve been trying to talk to you about it all week.” Chichi took another step closer, and another, until she was pressed against his chest. Piccolo’s heart hammered in his rib cage. His door slid shut with a thud and a click.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like you, a lot. And I’m so sorry,” she choked, and tears started to run down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Piccolo. I’m sorry - I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he stiffened, mind blank as she pressed her face into his shirt.

“I don’t - I don’t understand.” He pried her off of him, holding her at arm’s length. “I don’t understand. ‘You like me,’ why?”

Chichi screwed up her face in a scowl, skin blotchy with tears.

“I don’t know, because I do. Isn’t that something, ya big dummy? I like you and want to held by you and go on picnics with you and have candlelight conversations with you and to hold you and -”

Chichi gasped as Piccolo pulled her close. Her arms curled around him and held him, fierce in her grip. “What do you want? Piccolo?”

He closed his eyes and prayed this wasn’t a dream.

College AU. Picc's been having "smth" for chichi for years but ofc hes convinced nothing could happen between them & doesnt even allow himself to fantasize bout it. Til 1 day when he feels wanted for the first time in his life: when DRUNK!chichi kisses him outside of a party she dragged him to. He experiences his 1st heartbreak as soon as she pulls away when he realizes bulma dared her to do it & it hurts but he thinks its his fault for being delusional. He drop her home & doesnt sleep that nite

why must you hurt me so? 

I love it 

[sneezehq]

(my ideas won't leave me alone, so you're stuck dealing with it, lol) Yuri P moves out of LIlia's house after his first win, he's living in an apartment on his own and is loving it. Except when he starts getting sick on one of the friday evening on one of his few weekends off, he's fine, he's old enough to handle it. He takes some old cough medicine and goes to bed, he gets worse, on monday morning when he doesn't show up to practice. By the afternoon, no one has heard from him and are concerned

(ran out of room) Yuuri and Victor concerned, go to check on him, and Yuri is so bad that he has to be rushed to the hospital. How it ends is totally up to you! I just want to see it written if possible, lol

I love this prompt! And feel free to send me your ideas anytime, I love hearing them!

It’s nice to have a place of his own again. After his win in the Grand Prix Finals, Yuri had decided that he didn’t need live with his coach anymore and had moved out of Lilia’s house, back into his own apartment. He was definitely old enough to live on his own, he argued. In the end, Lilia and Yakov had given up and let him have his way.

Yuri is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he knows it. So when the lingering exhaustion he’s been feeling since he woke up hasn’t gone away by the time practice is finished, Yuri is pretty sure that he’s getting sick. His weariness is joined by a pounding headache and dry cough by the time he gets home, and Yuri groans, flopping onto the couch. Getting back up seems like an insurmountable task, but eventually he forces his aching body upright and drags himself to the kitchen to have some dinner, despite not having an appetite.

One shower and change of clothes later, and Yuri is digging through his bathroom closet. He finds a bottle of cough medicine that may or may not be expired; it’s difficult to tell. His pounding head is making it difficult to read the tiny print on the bottle. Shrugging, he figures that it can’t hurt, and pours himself what he believes the correct dosage before collapsing into bed. He’ll feel better in the morning, after some sleep.

Saturday morning comes, and Yuri doesn’t wake up until nine o'clock, which is late for him. Despite the extra sleep, he doesn’t feel any better-all his muscles have gone stiff overnight, and his throat feels like he swallowed glass shards. Some cough drops would be nice, but Yuri doesn’t have the energy right now to make a run to the store. He’ll just have to make do with what he has available.

At least he doesn’t have practice today. For once, Yuri is grateful that his coaches make him take the weekends off during the off season. He can rest up today and tomorrow, kick this bug’s ass, and be ready to practice on Monday morning. His plan firmly in mind, Yuri settles himself on the couch in the living room, watching a crime show that he used to watch with his grandpa.

It would be nice to talk to his grandpa right now, but given how sore his throat is, he’s pretty sure that his voice is pretty much nonexistent. Yuri always misses grandpa, but especially now, when he feels so sick and miserable. He makes a mental note to give him a call when he’s feeling better. He spends the rest of the day drifting in and out of a restless sleep, catching occasional glimpses of what’s happening on the TV. He only gets up to use the bathroom or to refill his water, and once to nibble on some crackers and eat some soup he heated up in the microwave.

Despite all his resting, Yuri continues to feel worse as the day goes on. His cough is getting thicker and sharper, and the room feels hot and cold in turns. When he dozes off only to wake up on the floor next to the couch, Yuri decides to pick himself up and go to bed. He’s probably getting hit with the worst of the bug now, and after another good nights rest, he’ll be on the mend. Another dose of that cough medicine should do the trick.

Yuri wakes up to a violent coughing fit. He coughs and coughs and coughs endlessly, gasping for breath, until the fit finally, blessedly stops. The fit is so exhausting that he just lays there for several minutes afterward, trying to take in some air.

Getting out of bed seems too difficult today, so Yuri doesn’t even bother to try, just closes his eyes and swallows against his painfully sore throat, scraped raw by coughing. It’s freezing in his bedroom so he tugs the blankets around him and curls into a ball, surrounded by his warm cocoon. Once the shivering tapers off a bit, Yuri gratefully lets sleep claim him.

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be better in time for practice tomorrow, but calling in to say that feels to much like giving up. By the time he even thinks to do that, his vision is too hazy to look at his phone screen. He can’t help but feel like he’s forgetting something, but he’s too exhausted to think of what it is.

When Yuri doesn’t show up at the rink Monday morning, everyone is worried. “We were supposed to meet up this weekend to talk about his free program, but he never showed up,” says Victor, concern etching lines into his face.

“Has anyone heard from Yuri at all?” asks Yuuri. The answer is a resounding no from everyone.

“It’s not like him a to miss practice,” says Yakov, a frown creasing his face.

“Victor and I will go and check on him,” Yuuri says decisively. He’s got a bad feeling about this.

Yuri’s apartment is only a five minute drive from the ice rink-the better for jogging before practice. They climb up the stairs to the second floor, but when they knock on the door, there’s no response. Even more worried now, Victor pulls out the key that Yuri gave him in case of an emergency and unlocks the door.

They find Yuri in the bedroom, sleeping restlessly. He looks terrible; his face is pale, his cheeks are flushed, and his hair is plastered to his face with sweat. “Yuri, are you feeling okay? You don’t look very well,” Yuuri says, shaking his shoulder gently.

After a few seconds, Yuri manages to slowly crack his eyes open. “Katsudon?” he croaks out. “And Victor? What are you doing here?”

Yuri’s voice breaks on the last word, plunging him into another bout of wet-sounding coughs. Yuuri rubs his back as he continues to choke and gasp for air, saying something to Victor that Yuri doesn’t catch over the sound of his own ragged breathing. When the fit finally ends, Yuri slumps back into the pillows, groaning when Yuuri tugs on his arm.

“You’re very sick. We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”

As it turns out, Yuri cannot stand. His knees buckle when he tries and the effort sends him into another fit of rattling coughs. Yuuri scoops him up, bracing one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders to carry him to the car. “Victor is waiting for us in the car. We were worried when you didn’t show up to practice this morning and came to check on you. Why didn’t you tell anyone that it was this bad?”

Yuri doesn’t have the breath or the energy to respond, but he focuses on Yuuri’s words in an attempt to distract himself from his throat’s efforts to shred itself. Yuuri settles them both into the backseat, and tells Victor to step on it. Sitting up helps Yuri breathe a little better, but he’s so exhausted he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Stay awake,” Yuuri says, nudging him when his eyes fall closed.

“Fuck off, katsudon,” Yuri mumbles tiredly. The last thing he hears is an exasperated sigh from Yuuri before darkness claims him again.

When Yuri finally regains consciousness, he’s in an uncomfortable bed surrounded by painfully white walls-a hospital. He groans.

“You’re finally awake,” says a voice from the chair next to his bed. Yuri turns his head to see Victor.

“Why’m I here?” mutters Yuri, his voice coming out raspy. Victor winces at the sound and passes Yuri a glass of water, which he takes gratefully.

“You have pneumonia. I’m afraid that you’re going to be here for a while. Probably a few days, at least.”

Yuri scowls but his throat hurts too much to yell like he wants to. He settles for a sulky glare instead.

“Yuri, why didn’t you tell us that it was this bad?” Victor asks, unaffected by Yuri’s anger.

“I thought it was just a cold,” Yuri argues, careful not to raise his voice. The water helped soothe the soreness a little, but he doesn’t want to risk setting off another coughing fit. “Plus, I was taking care of myself. I even took medicine!” he announces, as though it’s some sort of epic achievement.

“You mean that cough medicine that I bought you years ago? That’s definitely gone bad by now. You should look into restocking your medicine cabinet.”

Yuri smirks at him. “You’re one to talk, geezer. You didn’t even own any medicine before Yuuri moved in with you.”