#waterfallasks

[waterfallofspace]

Hey, I saw you were doing the fridaysnzchallange and I was wondering if u could do this prompt: “my sneeze has been stuck all day, please make me sneeze”

Sorry if it’s too vague🙏

not too vague! thanks for the request, hope this is what you're looking for! ^^

[waterfallofspace]

Your wavs are so wonderful. I love them! Can you say “achoo” through your build up until you actually sneeze?

Thank you so much!~ I'm glad you enjoy~

These are actually some of my favourite requests to hear, I've requested a few myself actually, so I'm happy to fulfill this!~ Might do another longer one at some point, as this is just a short thing~

aaaaaaaand I am currently catsitting, and had a few interruptions from my lovely little friend, so kitty bloopers (and short video of the lil guy) under the cut!

the lil void man himself <3

[waterfallofspace]

Hello! Just wanted to say that reading your fics has reawakened the t/m/a hyperfixation in me. I am loving it so I must thank you for that XD

Since you asked for prompts, would you consider writing J/on trying to push through a massive dust allergy in the archives? Maybe he forgot to take his meds and is still trying to quietly tackle the monumental task of organizing G/ertrude's hellscape of an office by himself. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't go to plan ^v^"

Have a good day/night! 🧡

I'm glad!! it's such a hyperfixation for me too haha~ thank you for the prompt, I hope I managed to do it some form of justice!~ this is early days though, so do be warned that Martin and Jon will not have the uh, more friendly vibes we know of them from later!~ <3 which did actually hurt a little to write ;-;

Malfunctions

The one in which Jon experiences some... bodily malfunctions.

Word Count: 3.5k Characters: Jon, Tim, Martin

“Boss?” 

Jon waves a hand for Tim to enter, barely glancing up from the paper he’s scouring. If he’d have known what kind of state the archives was in when he was offered the position… well he’d still have taken it, but he might have negotiated a better pay. 

“-about it, right?” Tim says, seemingly the end of a sentence, not the beginning. 

Wearily, Jon looks up, groaning softly as he realizes Tim has definitely been talking this whole time. “Apologies, I was… a bit preoccupied. Would you mind repeating that?” 

Tim simply shrugs, giving Jon a winning smile. “It can wait till later. What’s got you so distracted? Another case not workin’ on the laptop?” 

“Quite. It’s frankly unbelievable, the state Gertrude left these archives in.” Jon starts, clenching the paper slightly in his hands. “Boxes and boxes of files and paperwork, all scattered and randomized and don’t make any sort of sense- You’d think someone with such a meticulous system of numbers would bother making it a usable one!”

There’s a slight chuckle from Tim, but Jon hardly even registers it. 

“And then the fact some won’t even record- Not to mention the fact they’re mostly just rubbish fiction, it’s starting to feel like her entire existence was aimed at making my job as difficult as possible,” Jon finally trails off, slightly out of breath. 

Tim chuckles at this, giving Jon a playful smirk. “Much as Gertrude may have been a bit of a waste of an archivist by the end, I don’t really think you can blame her for your laptop not recording properly.” 

“I can blame her for whatever I damn well please…” Jon finds himself muttering under his breath. Tim’s raised eyebrow proves he heard it, but neither of them acknowledge this. Instead Jon simply nods, letting out a long sigh.

“Anyways,” Tim continues, gesturing to the file that- Jon didn’t even notice he was holding. “Found another one fallen behind a shelf, figured you’d want to know about it.” 

Another weary sigh, followed by Jon nodding for Tim to leave it on the nearest pile of boxes. What Jon meant was for Tim to set it on top of the boxes so he could go check it out once he was finished here. What Tim did, however, was drop it on top without a care in the world. 

A plume of dust rises from where the file hits the box, drifting around into the office air. Tim immediately coughs a few times, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to clear a bit of it. Jon, on the other hand, winces visibly, fighting the urge to pull his shirt over his face. He settles for running a knuckle under his already twitching nose. The slight itch that he’d been fighting since this morning spreads into a burning tickle, and it takes everything he has not to sneeze. 

“Woah,” Tim exclaims, still coughing slightly. “Bloody hell there’s a lot of dust around here.”

“Seems cleanliness was hardly one of Gertrude’s strengths either,” Jon replies, each word bringing him one step closer to the brink.

Mind over body, he does not have to sneeze. He’s not allergic to dust, and his eyes are not beginning to water. He’s a professional, damn it. And professional archivists, head archivists, are not taken down by something as simple, and common, as dust. 

“I mean I knew it was bad in storage,” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to the struggle Jon finds himself fighting through. “But I figured at least in your office it would be a bit cleaner.” 

“I haven’t had a chance to get a deep clean done,” Jon retorts, feeling annoyance start to creep into his tone. “I’ve been quite busy, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Right, right, wasn’t making a comment on your work ethic or anything. Honestly I just figured Elias would have sent someone to do it for you or something.” 

“I know,” Jon offers, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit…”

“Yeah,” Tim replies. His smile is back, but it seems a touch more genuine this time. “We’re all pretty stressed. Gertrude left us a hell of a mess to clean.” 

“Quite literally,” Jon says, giving a small smile of his own. “And yes, Elias did offer, but there’s hardly been a reasonable hour that I haven’t been here cleaning up hehh– her mess.” 

It’s only for a second, but Jon feels his entire body go slack as the sneeze begs to be released, teasing up the edge of his nose. He manages to turn away from Tim enough to pinch his nose for a minute. It does nothing against the deep itch that’s beginning to creep up into his ears and eyes, but at least for now it stalls the sneeze enough for him to turn back. 

Tim, for his part, doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, he’s standing in the doorway, holding up one hand with the other hovering in front of his face. At first, Jon can’t for the life of him figure out what the hell Tim’s doing. Is this some form of practical joke? 

It takes him right up until Tim gasps, with Jon nearly jumping to his feet at the sudden noise, before he realizes. 

“hiehh– hiH’YIESHh’ooo!” 

Jon finds himself damn near envious of Tim. He always seems so carefree and unashamed. Those were never qualities Jon shared, even with something as trivial as this. His own nose throbs fiercely in response. 

“Wheew,” Tim sighs, lowering his hand with a dramatic sniff. “Sorry ‘bout that, not normally that affected by dust, but I guess if there’s enough it’ll get to anyone!” 

There’s a beat of silence, Jon finding himself physically incapable of response. The tickle’s damn near unbearable. His entire being is aching for the release. He knows there’s no point in fighting, it’ll just make it worse when it finally breaks free, but still. A boss should be able to control themselves. The Head Archivist should be able to control their own body. 

“What, no blessing?” Tim mocks playfully after a moment of silence passes. He pauses slightly when Jon still shows no sign of response. Finally, Tim seems to get bored, waving a hand in front of Jon’s face as he chuckles out, “Boss? You still in there?” 

It’s barely a breeze, but the movement is enough to stir the dust in the air around Jon’s face again. Imperceptible to anyone else, but Jon sees the particles begin to swirl. It’s just enough to break his focus, and he hardly has time to pinch his nose before the sneezes begin to break free.

“hh’nGT–! ah’gNDt–!” 

“B-less you boss! See, that’s how you respond when someone sneezes-” Tim begins, trailing off slightly as Jon shows no signs of stopping. 

“ah’gNT–! gNNT���ch-! hh’gNDTchh-! Good lord... h-hehh– ah’dNGT–iuh!” 

“Bless you some more, wow you really-” 

“hH’NNGT-iuh! ah’knDGT-dhh!” 

By this point Tim has the decency to look concerned, reaching across Jon’s desk and pulling the tissues closer. Jon blearily grabs a handful, pausing for a series of desperate sounding hitches before ducking into the pile for a few more tight stifles.

“Damn, boss,” Tim says, seemingly a bit lost for words. If Jon’s misery wasn’t the sole cause, he might even find that a bit entertaining. It’s hardly a common occurrence for Tim to be speechless. 

“‘Scuse mbe. I’b fide-” Jon begins, noticing Tim wince at the congestion in his voice. Can’t really blame him for that. 

“You certainly sound ‘fide’,” Tim mocks gently, moving the tissues closer again. Jon blushes slightly at this, taking a few and turning away politely to blow his nose. Tim, for his part, seems unfazed by this, simply waiting until Jon finishes to resume his taunting. 

“That was a hell of an attack, never knew you were so allergic to dust!” 

“I’m not,” Jon starts, almost by instinct. Tim’s immediate raised eyebrow confirms there’s really no way out of it this time. “Alright, maybe a little, but it’s usually not nearly this bad. I juhh… hehh– eh’GNDt–iuh! Excuse me. Just forgot to take my medication this mor- enGT-uhh! Excuse me. This morning.” 

Tim looks a touch taken aback, staring at Jon with a face Jon can’t quite place. Almost… concern, but with a bit of respect? 

“How do you function like this?” 

“It’s not normally like this,” Jon replies, massaging the brink of his nose gently. “That’s the point of the medication. I simply was in a rush this morning, and it slipped my mind to take.. t- take… hH’ENGT-dhh! ah’kNDt-iuhh! Excuse me. To take some. Then with your little file incident-” 

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” Tim interrupts, giving a bit of a smile. It’s equal parts sheepish and mocking. “If I’d known you were so allergic, I’d have been a lot more careful.” 

Jon fights back his lecture about ‘carelessness in the archives’, and instead settles for a deep sigh. “It’s alright. No way you could have. Like I said, it’s usually quite manageable.” 

“Well,” Tim continues, “It’s still quite early. You could run home and grab some medication, I’m sure the archives can survive without you for a quick hour or so-” 

“I appreciate the suggestion,” Jon cuts him off, “but I’m fine. I am perfectly capable of running my archives.” 

Tim simply shrugs. This is obviously a battle he doesn’t feel like fighting. Jon gives his nose another rub, shivering slightly at the lingering tickle that’s steadily only growing worse. 

“Ihh.. If there’s nothing else?” 

“Nope! That was all. I’ll leave you to it,” Tim replies, starting to exit the room. Just before he leaves though, he turns on his heel and gives Jon another winning smile. “Oh, and I’ll be sure to tell Martin to pick up some more tissues.” 

Jon just grimaces, half certain Tim’s simply trying to get a reaction out of him. But knowing the man, he’ll do it just to get some entertainment. Still, telling him not to would just be ensuring it happens. There’s really no winning here. 

Thankfully, Tim closes the door as he leaves, and Jon finally has at least enough privacy to let out another small fit without prying eyes. 

“hH– enGdt-iuh! eh’gNT-uhh! ah’ngxT–! eiH’ZSHhhuh! Good lord…” 

The last one breaks free, and Jon silently hopes Tim was far enough to not hear it. It’s mortifying enough that Tim’s witnessed what he has, he certainly doesn’t need to see or hear anything further. 

Sheer power of will carries Jon through the next two statements relatively uneventfully. Sure, the recording has to be rapidly paused once or twice, but that’s simply a slight malfunction that he quickly corrects. On audio you should hardly be able to tell. 

One such… malfunction, however, does manage to slip onto a tape. Of course it had to be one that would only record on the damn tapes. Jon internally (and perhaps externally) curses the  statements for refusing the digital plane. A slight hint of editing could remove this error in mere moments, as he perhaps did with a few others. Instead, he sighs deeply, ignoring how damn itchy that sigh was, and rewinds the tape. 

“Statement of Elyse Williams regarding unusual activity in her attic. Original statement given March 21st, 2011. Audio recording by Johh…” 

Jon pauses for a second, collecting himself and stalling off the impending interruption. 

“Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Mahh… hH- h’nDGxt–dhh! Christ.” 

The tape clicks off again, and the whirring sound of it rewinding sets Jon’s teeth on edge. Head archivist of the damn Magnus Institute! What kind of archivist, head archivist, can’t even control themselves long enough to record a statement. 

With the next go he manages to make it almost halfway through before another interruption.

“It was then that I saw them, crawling all… all around my… hihh– eh’knDgt! ek’nGDt–dhh! Good lord.”

This time he doesn’t even bother rewinding, settling instead for grabbing a new tape entirely. He’ll record over this tape later, but with so much to rewind… it would simply be a waste of time to do it now. 

“Statement of Elyse Willaims regarding unusual actihh… activity in her attic. Original statement gi- hh’nXGt! given March 21st, 2011. Audio reco- eh’ngDT–dhh! Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head… hhh– Head Ar… Archivistofthe- hk’ZSHHieuhh! Goddamn it!” 

There’s a timid knock at the door, and it takes everything Jon has not to throw something at it. Letting out a low groan, Jon clicks the tape off and calls out, “Come in, Martin.” 

As expected, the door swings open to reveal Martin with a collection of boxes stacked in his arms. He seems to hesitate slightly in the doorway, futilely attempting to control the concern and worry lacing his features. 

“S-sorry to bother you, I was just looking over some of these files and had a few questions about the research you asked me to do- oh, but you’re recording and I should have checked and I’m-” 

Jon sighs loudly, cutting off Martin’s rambling. “It’s fine. I was… taking a break. What are the questions?” 

Martin starts off on them, most of which are fairly trivial and Jon finds his headache beginning to grow. He manages to sneak a couple of silent stifles, passing them off with a light cough or simply timing them when Martin’s preoccupied. 

“Martin-” Jon finally interrupts, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He can pass it off as the headache that he does have, but he can’t help but admit it might have more to do with the blooming tickle. After a pause he continues, “make a list of the questions. Tim and Sasha can handle most of them, and the ones they can’t I’ll answer or pass on for Elias to answer.” 

“Oh, r-right!” Martin stutters, gathering up the boxes into his arms again and heading for the door. He pauses, once again lingering at the entrance. 

“Is there somethh… something else?” Jon asks, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. The tickle is growing unmanageable, and he has mere minutes to get Martin out of his office. 

Martin’s still standing, fidgeting with the boxes as he seemingly builds up the courage for something. Irritating at the best of times, of which these are decidedly not. Jon can’t help but sigh, though he does notice a slight shudder run through Martin at the sound. 

He can’t linger on this however, as the sigh pushes his nose over the edge and he finds himself ducking into his wrist for a tightly contained- “hk’nGDT!” 

“Oh, bless you Jon!” Martin says. Apparently able to form words now. Perfect timing. 

“Thank you, do excuse me. Now, are you just planning to wait in my office for the remainder of the workday?”  

The tone is harsh, and he knows it. There’s a pang in his chest as Martin’s face falls for a moment, but Jon quickly crushes it. He’s wasting time, and lord knows they don’t have enough of that to spare. They should both be working. The tone is warranted. 

Despite this, Jon finds himself softening slightly when he speaks again. “Is there anything further I can help you with, Martin?”

“N-no, not really, just the questions, I’ll make the list like you said,” Martin rambles, still not moving towards the hall. Jon raises an eyebrow, not missing the way Martin blushes slightly. 

“O-okay… well… yes, there is… well-” 

“hk’gNDt–dhh! Excuse me.”  

“Bless you, that’s actually- that’s uh, that’s actually what I wanted to…” Martin trails off, setting the boxes on the ground and rummaging through one of them. He produces a box of tissues along with a handful of travel packs, and Jon curses Tim under his breath. 

“So I take it Tim told you to… t-to… hk’nGT–dh! Excuse me. Tim told you to bring those?” 

Martin mumbles a blessing, but lets Jon finish his sentence otherwise uninterrupted. There’s another awkward silence as Martin stands frozen, eyes wide as he seems to be running through a million possible answers in his head. 

“He- he did mention something, yeah,” The answer finally comes, Martin blushing slightly again as he places the box on Jon’s desk. “But um… well, you’ve also been- it’s uh, it’s not exactly been… subtle?” 

The tone pitches up towards the end, and Jon feels the heat begin spreading over his own face in return. He wants to say something, make some form of denial, but… he’s not an idiot. And at this point, denial might be a bit out of reach. 

Case in point, Jon finds his breath catching again, his mouth falling open slightly. Martin takes notice of this, and timidly holds out a travel pack, offering a warm smile that Jon merely glimpses as his eyes begin to flutter closed. He accepts them, weighing the embarrassment of accepting help with the mortification of letting this fit out into his hands. 

“Thankyou-” Jon manages, breathy and high, before he ducks into his stapled hands, tissues pressed in them. 

“hH’nDGt–dhh! hk’gnDXt–uhh! Excuse me. Oh god… I’m gon- gonna… hH’DZSHHhuhh! eh’zzZSHhhh’oo! hH’DZSHhhuh!” 

The last of the fit breaks free, and Jon finds himself blushing behind his hands. 

“Bless you a lot, Jon, Christ. Are you alright?” 

“I’b fide-” Jon starts, still from behind his wall of tissues. There’s no point in attempting any discretion now, and he gives Martin an apologetic glance before swivelling in his chair and blowing his nose. It barely helps the itch, but it does help reduce some of the congestion before he speaks again. 

“I’m fine. Please do excuse me, that was-”

“Quite the show!” Martin interrupts, laughter beginning to seep into his tone. It doesn’t feel cruel, nor does it even carry the tone of mocking Jon had grown so accustomed to from Tim. This laughter feels… almost light. As if he’s included in the joke, instead of being the subject of it. Despite himself, Jon feels the hint of a smile ghost his face. 

No. It’s unprofessional, and… he has to be mocking him… just, he’s better at hiding it. That's worse than Tim's blatant lack of respect. At least he doesn't pretend to... to care.

“I suppose. Now, back to work,” Jon says, letting the ice dip into his voice. 

Martin blushes a bit, beginning to stammer again, “R-right, of course, well I just- I mean, I didn’t mean- I’m just- I don’t want to pry but… I wasn’t- uh, are you sure you’re fit to work right now…?” 

The question is almost whispered, Martin’s voice dropping off in what might be… concern? Jon finds himself biting down the urge to reply. To tell Martin that no, he’s not fit to work, he needs to go home, and that he just feels… miserable, to put it frankly. But no, it isn’t concern. It’s… pity. It has to be pity. 

“I am fine,” Jon begins, standing from his chair. “I am more than fit to continue my work, and more than that I am capable of continuing to act as your boss. This is nothing I can’t hahh– hH’NdXGt–dhh! Nothing I can’t handle.”

Martin whispers a blessing, but goes a bit pale while doing so. Jon feels that familiar pang start in his chest, the one that says… maybe you went too far. Honestly, he’s not even sure why Martin brings that out of him. Tim mocks him all the time, Sasha even can cast a glance and throw a joke but… somehow when it’s Martin it just… 

“S-sorry, you’re right, I’m sorry-” Martin’s rambling cuts through Jon’s thoughts just in time for him to see Martin beginning to walk into the hall. 

“No, I’m sorry Marti-” Jon starts, but finds it comes out merely a whisper. The door closes, and he hears Martin’s footsteps retreating down the hall. 

Well, that’s that. Jon grabs a handful of tissues, choosing the box Martin had brought for… well because it’s closer. That’s why. That’s the only reason why. 

He blows his nose a few times, letting out another stray “hH–dnGt’uh!” into the soft folds. After a few rounds of this, he clears his throat, and finds the quality satisfactory. He still sounds a bit rough around the edges, but on such an old device you should hardly be able to tell. 

Clicking on the tape again, Jon starts the statement over from the beginning. Again. He pointedly ignores the guilt beginning to fester in his chest, devoting himself entirely to the recording. He was merely being the boss, doing what he needed to do. Martin was speaking out of turn, and had to be reminded of such. 

Still… he makes a mental note to thank Martin for the tissues next time he sees him. Suppose maybe he’s not entirely useless after all. 

“Right, now then,” Jon says, grabbing his papers and placing the recorder in front of him. 

“Statement of Elyse Willams regarding unusual activity in her attic. Original statement given March 21st, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.”

[waterfallofspace]

Hello! I know it’s after Friday but I was wondering if you could do some girly/ high pitched sneezes? Like putting the pitch in the “choo” part of the sneeze? I hope this makes sense lol

Not a problem! It definitely makes sense~ Happy to take lil wav requests anytime anyone has any~ ^^ Thank you for the ask!!

High pitched/choo are a bit difficult for me sometimes without stifling, it just gets so desperate, so I tried my best, but apologies if it's not exactly what you wanted!! Feel free to request again if you want another try <3

[waterfallofspace]

Hi!! I LOVED your wav from last week’s fridaysneezegame!!🫣💖

Could you try some apologetic sneezes?

Like “I’m so sorry, but I hah hafta snehhze!!”

Or “Wow!! I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me! Carry on!”

Thank you so much!! ^//^

I absolutely can, thank you for the request! Hopefully this is what you had in mind! ^^

[waterfallofspace]

Who are your favorite artists/writers in the community?

I see this one has been going around!! I actually got two, so forgive me for answering only just the one, but thank you both for sending this in!! Absolutely gonna emphasis *favourite*, not best, so I'm CERTAIN I'm gonna miss people that I just haven't seen

Okay so this is gon be a long list, and tagging people is scary so I really apologize if any of you didn't wanna be tagged <3 and I'm certain to miss a few, so if I don't mention you, please know that you're still amazing and it doesn't mean I don't melt to bits at your content!!!~ <3

(also gonna include a few wav makers bc that's honestly an art too!!! and i feel they deserve to be praised for that!!~)

(and gonna copy snzdreams here <3) People I know/Friends:

--- @onetrickponi is an absolute TREASURE, not only so kind and fun, but also genuine triple threat, despite what her name suggests~ --- @zensations35 one of the BIG names on here, at least to me~ someone I've adored for years, such a kind person too!! Not super close, but adore her!~ --- @snzdreams Absolute dear, and SUCH a fun person, and honestly honestly honestly the best g/ojo writer ive ever had the pleasure of reading, girl i stg that closet fic will live with me forever --- @bestwhumpist SOOOOO good!!! and so sweet, i have the honour of calling you a friend and also the honour of enjoying your WORK bc mmm girl yes --- @ithadtobesneezing also one of the sweetest people, so many people on here are so sweet and it makes me insane, and SUCH a good writer, like hello??? hi???? made me fall in love with y/uta i swear --- @6pmsoup AMAZING art like AMAAZZZINNGGG art, looks so good i'd swear it was straight from a manga --- @hachiibun some of my favourite art on this entire site, hachii is not only INSANELY impressive, also so nice!!! genuinely amazing~ --- @goodlucksnez makes some REALLY good wavs, and Vic is also such a kind and fun person!~ --- @ezynse REALLY good fics, personally seen a few a/ce a/ttorney ones making the rounds, but also just a funny and sweet person~ --- @lycheeehehe made this one w/olfwood drawing that made me feel things AND AND AND then also made a list of hcs for t/oji and ik hcs arent what you asked but literally made me insane over this man --- @devilscastle69 THE h/otwings writer on A/03, absolutely go check them out if you like h/otwings, some AMAZING stuff on there!! (also just such a cool person hi <3) --- @themiseryandcompany older fics but SOOO worth it, tasty lil morsels, and also one of my first friends on here!!! so adore her forever <3 --- @snzluv3r hi so honestly this one is so hguahguh for me to admit but some of the hottest wavs on here, and more than that!! literally a sweetheart, SUCH a sweet person!~ <33

People I don't know, but really appreciate:

--- @whiskey-tango-matcha such good stories about their lil guy ocs, they're SO alive and I honestly feel like they're characters from a published media with how much I know them and feel certain of them!! --- @autumnsneezes some of the best wavs (and snzs) that i've heard, absolutely amazing!!~ --- @gemsden some REALLY good content over here, mostly just posts with vague ideas, but some writing too!~ and just sooo good!~ --- @kotyonoksnz literally SUCH amazing art, released a few comics of it, and SPOILED snzblr with a beautiful h/azbin partial one, absolutely incredible art!!

omg this has been SO long im so sorry!! and im so sorry if i missed someone/you, i PROMISE it doesn't mean I don't love your stuff, just means i forgot T-T but I hope the length (and tags) are alright, and thank you for asking non!!~

[waterfallofspace]

omg tma!! I started re listening it a few weeks ago and obsessed again. I would love to see some more Elias from you🫣 Your previous fic with him is still one of my favourites

Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!~

So I uh... meant for this to be a drabble, but it... got a little out of hand... and it's not very snz heavy, more plot/general sickness heavy, so I apologize if that's not what you had in mind, just kinda went the way it went~

A Betting Man

The one in which Peter bets Elias he won't last the day with the terrible head cold he's 'hiding'. (Definite HUGE spoilers for the M/agnus Archives, so please be aware of that!)

Characters: Elias, Peter, Tim, Rosie ( ft. lonelyeyes + mentions of Jon + Sasha) Word Count: 4.3k

It’s been a long week, even for Elias. Dealing with a new archivist is always a bit of a headache, but especially now with all that’s at stake. Near constant surveillance has left a strain on… what perhaps one could refer to as his ‘eyes’. Jon has required a fair amount of supervision to make sure he stays on the right path- or, shall we say, at the right pace. 

Leaning forward in his chair, Elias allows his face to rest against his hands. Jon’s in the middle of another statement, still adamant to deny his way through the horrors. He’ll be occupied for at least another fifteen minutes. More than enough time for a brief rest. Not a nap, just… a couple minutes to rest his eyes…

“Mr. Bouchard?” Rosie’s voice over the intercom jolts him awake from the waves of fatigue that had been pulling him in. 

Elias hits the button to respond. He barely manages to get the “yes-” out before his voice breaks. He releases the button, ducking into his fist with a harsh cough, before trying again. 

“Yes, Rosie, what is it?” His voice still sounds rough, and he silently curses the nasal quality it possesses. 

“Uh, sorry to disturb you, Tim just has a few questions about some follow up to a statement, but I can tell him you’re busy… or…” Rosie trails off, the hesitation evident in her voice. 

“Well,” a voice sounds out, ringing out like a gunshot in the silent office. “Better not keep him waiting.” 

Familiar as it may be, the sudden nature of the intrusion comes as quite the shock. Elias maintains a white-knuckled grip on his neutral expression as he turns to face the captain, heart pounding in his throat. “Peter, I believe I’ve asked you to announce yourself.” 

“Ah, you did, seems I’ve forgotten again, ever so sorry Elias,” Peter smirks, unfolding himself from the corner he’d been watching from. “Wouldn’t want to step on your toes, what with the watching and all. More your thing than mine, isn’t that right?” 

Elias simply rolls his eyes in response, glancing back to the intercom. Peter follows his gaze, chuckling lightly.

“Peter,” Elias cautions, scanning back over to Jon in his mind. Still caught up in the statement, going on about some form of… meat. Not something Elias needs playing in the back of his mind while dealing with Peter. 

“Rosie’s waiting,” Peter interrupts, pulling Elias’s full focus back onto him. “Shame to leave her hanging, sweet girl and all, just trying to do her job.” 

“If you’d really like me to answer her, you’d leave me alone so I cahh… can do just that.” 

Elias trails off for only a second, feeling the itch that he’d believed quelled earlier this morning start to bubble back to the surface. The cold medicine should have had another few hours left. Seems burning the candle at all ends has its downfalls. 

He still manages to finish strong, fighting off the sensation with a single brush of his finger. It did not, however, go unnoticed. Elias fights back a sigh as the sparkle he’s come to know all too well begins to appear in the sea captain’s eyes. The eager glisten of someone with a bet to propose. 

“We both know you’re perfectly capable of answering her with me in the room. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to be… subtle,” Peter offers, still watching Elias carefully. 

With a deep resignation, Elias hits the button again, informing Rosie to tell Tim he’ll stop by later. She answers with thanks, interrupted by Tim shouting something about ‘right-o double boss!’ in the background. A slightly mortified Rosie repeats her thanks, the intercom cutting off her apologies for the intrusion. 

Elias simply ignores it, turning his attention instead to Peter, still lingering in the office. Not undivided this time though, as Elias feels his nose twitch again. Eager to get this over with, he simply awaits Peter’s proposition. He could attempt to Know it, but with the current state of his head, and the dangerous buzzing in his sinuses, the risk seems to outweigh simply waiting.

“So,” Peter begins, eyes flicking up and down Elias, as if running final calculations. “I’ve got a wager to offer.” 

“I figured as much,” Elias replies, leaning back slightly in the chair and adjusting his suit jacket with feigned disinterest. “But I don’t believe you have anything to offer me that would entice me to accept it.” 

“I have a feeling you’ll take it anyways, Elias.” 

“And whhih.. why iihh- hehh!-” With a desperate sniff, Elias manages to pull back control, fighting back the burning creeping up his nose. 

“Because,” Peter cuts in, looking damn near gleeful at Elias’s struggle. “You’ve always been a betting man.” 

 “hiEh’mMPFfshh-uih!” Elias winces as the sneeze breaks through his control. He barely manages to catch it in the soft folds of his rapidly deployed handkerchief. Peter looks beyond thrilled at this, as if the sneeze itself was some form of acceptance. And– 

“hH’MPFSHh’uh! hiH’MFSHH–oo!” 

They both know it never stops at one. Managing to stall the onslaught with a rough massage of the handkerchief, Elias cautiously lowers it and meets Peter’s eye again. Peter, for his part, offers a blessing. Elias shrugs it off with a grimace. 

“Fine,” Elias says, internally cursing again as his voice scrapes painfully against his ever-worsening throat. “Will taking this bet get you to leave me alone?” 

“I suppose so, if that’s what you’d like,” Peter replies casually. They both know it’s not a hard sell, getting him to be alone. 

“Then get on with it, what’s the wager.” 

“A simple one,” Peter smiles, leaning forward and resting his arms on the desk. “If you manage to hide this terrible head cold you’ve picked up from the rest of your staff, then you win!” 

Of course Peter could tell. The medication had picked a lovely time to wear off, but… having this be the focus of such a wager was still… unpleasant. And besides, he had no time for such dramas. Jon was finishing up his statement by now. Elias found himself Knowing that Jon was in fact asking Sasha and Tim for the final reports on the follow up they managed to do. And for that, Tim was still waiting on him. 

With another sigh, this one hitting something on the edge of his lungs and leaving him coughing into his fist, Elias manages to gain enough composure to reply with a mild, “I’m quite the busy man, Peter.” 

“Oh I know you are,” Peter pushes the glass of the water on the desk closer, and Elias gives him a muted thanks. “However, all I’m asking you to do is- well, what we both know you were planning to do anyways. I’m just interested in making a little money on the whole ordeal.” 

“Fine, name your price and then leave me to my work,” Elias replies, managing to stall the coughing with a few sips of the water. 

“Fifty dollars says you get caught before you go home today.” 

“Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” Elias stands from his desk, gesturing Peter towards the door. “I have an appointment with Tim.” 

Peter doesn’t fight this, simply offering a deeply unsettling smile as he folds back out through the door. Only a faint mist clouding the hallway and echoing in Elias’s mind lingers as any proof he was there at all. It soon fades from the doorway, though the fog covering Elias’s thoughts remains. Maybe that one is more from the fever than the visit. 

“mMFhsh’oo!” Elias groans softly into the handkerchief, already feeling the hitching start up again as his eyes begin to water. Never just the one. “mPFShh–eh’MFSHhh’oo!” 

He pulls his hands away, before ducking frantically into his shoulder for a final, “ah’tshhiew!”  that manages to slip through before he can catch it in the cloth. 

Mercifully Peter left before that particular outburst, the pitchy whine of the last burst sending a rush of heat to Elias’s ears. Peter’s never been one to shy away from a good bit of taunting when he gets the opportunity, and this would definitely have served as host to some mocking. 

Making his way down the hall, Elias gives Rosie a polite nod, wincing slightly when she calls out to him. 

“Mr. Bouchard! Sorry sir, just have a couple things to run past you, if you have a moment?” 

“Of course Rosie,” Elias replies, turning slowly to face her with a calculated smile. She means well, and he can’t find it in himself to be upset with her. It’s hardly her fault that he’s unwell, or that he had the misfortune to draw Peter’s attention. 

“I’ll try to make this fast, there’s just a few forms that need a signature, some follow up for you to review- oh! And I almost forgot, Jon was asking about a few different statements.” 

Absent-mindedly beginning to sign the papers, Elias turns his focus to finding Jon. It turns out he’s in artifact storage, looking at something related to a statement, perhaps. It’s not an inconvenient spot for him to be, should make the meeting with Tim go a lot smoother. 

“Sir?” Rosie says, hesitantly. Elias manages to pull himself back, finding it harder than it should be. This fever seems to be worsening by the minute. 

“My apologies, I’m a touch… preoccupied,” Elias pauses briefly, feeling the all too familiar sensation start buzzing in his nose once more. He manages to stall it with a quick rub. Rosie doesn’t seem to notice, too busy looking down at her stack of paperwork. 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir! There’s just the follow ups, and Jon’s questions-” 

“Please leave those follow ups on my desk, I’ll get to them after I go and see Tim. As for Jon, I’ll pop by his office and talk to him myself,” Elias cuts her off, keeping the smile on his face as gentle as he can manage. 

Rosie smiles back, nodding and jotting down a few notes on her pad. Elias nods his thanks, then making a few polite excuses, takes his leave. He barely makes it down the hall before the buzzing becomes all consuming. Handkerchief long forgotten at his desk, he settles for pressing his wrist to his nose, and attempting to stifle the onslaught. 

“ek’ngt-chh! eh’dngt! –nngdt’chh! hihh… hh’ngKT’chh–oo!” 

The last breaks through with a whiny exhale, spreading the fevered flush deeper into his cheeks. He’d always taken a sense of pride in his control, both of himself and those around him. Part of being alive, and in power, as long as he has, it comes with the territory. But this cold was determined to rob him of any decorum he had left, it seemed.

Mercifully it seems no one witnessed this outburst either, but his charade of health is rapidly deteriorating. Elias lets another internal curse slip, this time it nearly passes his lips. Discreetly wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead, he continues down the hall towards Tim. 

Elias’s specific brand of Knowing has its advantages, not the least of which being the ability to find any employee whenever necessary. In this case it’s walking up behind Tim pouring himself a coffee in the kitchen. 

“I heard you wanted to speak to me, Tim?” Elias says, voice cutting through the silence. He admittedly revels a little in the shudder that runs through the (much) younger man’s spine. 

“Double boss,” Tim collects himself fast, giving one of his patented charming smiles. It’s no wonder the– well, everyone, falls for it so fast. “Uncanny how you can sneak up on someone like that! Have you thought about going into the surprise birthday planning business?” 

“I… don’t believe that’s a thing,” Elias replies patiently, offering a contained smile. It’s never a good idea to put off one’s subordinates so soon. Keep them in line? Of course. But this early on, respect and fear are both key weapons to wield. 

Tim chuckles, pouring a frankly outrageous amount of cream and sugar into the coffee before giving it a light stir. “Well if it isn’t, it should be!” 

“I think I’ll leave the party planning to you, though I’ll always find some time to stop by for a piece of cake.” 

“And you’ll always be welcome, you’re the big boss after all!” Tim smiles again, though Elias can see every ounce of sarcasm plastered throughout the grin. While he may not match Tim when it comes to charm, he far surpasses him in skills when lying is at play. He’s had much more practice, after all. 

Biting down the urge to cough again as his throat objects to the prolonged usage, Elias steadies himself with a firm, “I was told you wanted to see me? If you wouldn’t mind getting to the point, I do have other matters of which to attend…” 

“Oh, right!” Tim starts, setting down his coffee and reaching over to the table for a couple files. Elias takes this moment to duck into his wrist, managing a pair of completely silent stifles. Another trick his years have let him hone, though each new body seems to take a varying amount of time to reach perfection.

“hk’ndGT-uh!”  

This one, unfortunately, is deeply uncooperative, letting the final sneeze escape into a strangled noise. Tim doesn’t seem to have noticed, busy rustling through the files. He’s obviously looking for something. It would be much easier to simply Know, and just give Tim the answer before even hearing the question… but that draws too much attention. He’ll just have to wait it out. 

Since he’s standing here anyways, Elias takes the chance for a quick peek at Jon. He seems to have settled himself back into his office, clicking away at his computer as he translates a few statements over to the device. Hardly interesting work, they’re certainly not anything worthwhile, but they should give him something to do for the rest of the afternoon. 

“Boss?” Tim’s voice pulls him back, and Elias attempts to focus on the file being held out to him. Attempts, and fails. 

Instead, all he manages to do is offer a half strangled noise, and sway slightly on his feet. Tim, to his credit, is quick to react; pulling out a chair and leading Elias gently into it. 

“That’s quite alright,” Elias protests, attempting to stand before quickly thinking better of it. He plays off the attempt as merely changing position, crossing one leg over the other. “It was just a touch of dizziness, haven’t been sleeping enough lately, what with Jon in his new position and all. A lot of late nights, as I imagine the rest of you are pulling as well.” 

Tim’s face is nearly unreadable. Elias almost considers Knowing his feelings, but given how poorly checking in on Jon just went, he’s not eager for a repeat performance. 

Instead, he settles on raising carefully to his feet, and steadying Tim with a polite but firm look. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Now, the files? I believe I mentioned it before, but I have quite a lot to do.” 

With a small nod, face still tightly guarded, Tim lets his gaze drop down to the files, collecting the papers he’d been holding out before. He hands them over to Elias, who recognizes quite quickly that they all feature connections to some rather big donors. This must be why Tim wanted his input before continuing. He had given Jon quite the talking to for digging in too far the other day. 

“The trails of these follow ups have led to some interesting places,” Tim begins, going on some rant about Jon’s persistence, Sasha’s lack of interest in hard work, and more meaningless drama. He’s just started on something about ‘needing a contact in the law office down the block’ when Elias feels the all too familiar tickle beginning to reemerge.

He isn’t going to be able to get away without making his departure all too obvious. No room for polite excuses or subtly in this moment, so with a slight grimace, he makes his move. 

“So sorry, please excuse me for a sehh- second.” 

Tim pauses, just beginning to ask if everything’s okay when Elias turns into his wrist, bending at the waist ever so slightly as he ducks away with a tightly contained “ih’gnDt!” 

“Oh- bless yo-” Tim starts, getting cut off by a wave from Elias, still hitching rapidly into his wrist. 

“N- nohhht… d- done… hk’nNgtchh! ih’mMFSShhh’uh! mMPFSHh! ih’MMPFShhh–oo!” 

“Christ, bless you boss! Quite the show there,” Tim laughs, clearly not too worried about mocking his superior. Normally Elias might chastise him a touch for that, but now doesn’t seem the time for such things. Instead, he merely offers thanks, grabbing a tissue from the counter and attempting a polite blow. 

There is a slight wince from Tim at this, Elias mimicking the action as his sinuses throb at the action. The dull ache spreads further throughout his head, and the world seems to spin as Elias pulls himself back to his full height. Tim’s still looking on, a touch concerned, and Elias offers a vague wave.

“Apologies, the dust down here still tends to get to me sometimes, even after these years.” 

There’s a brief pause, Tim seeming to consider this explanation, before the tension melts from his posture and it’s right back to the rambling. It’s much different from Martin’s brand. That seems to be more about nerves, his mouth moving faster than he can keep up with. Tim’s is more calculated, seemingly just enjoying the sound of his own voice. “Seems to happen to loads of people. They’re used to a much cleaner standard I think, the libraries seem to be cleaner at least, and it’s often a bit of a shock I think for people to see what disarray we’re in! I mean hell, I’ve succumbed to a few attacks of my own, and Jon– christ, you should have heard him when he first started emptying out those boxes. Nearly dragged him out by his collar a few times, just to make sure he didn’t stop breathing.” 

“And I thank you for that,” Elias interrupts with a polite smile. “Not eager to have to fill the role again quite so soon.” 

Tim chuckles a bit, but generally seems to be a bit lost in his own thoughts. Recalling memories of those first few weeks, Elias supposes. Or, shall we say, Knows. The knowledge leaves him a bit dizzy, but nothing nearly so bad to knock him off his feet this time. Tim snaps out of it quickly, returning to his line of questioning about donations, funding, and… things that sounded to be walking a fine line of legality. 

Elias gives the proper responses; a smile here, nod there, yes or nos when appropriate, some casual conversation when there’s nothing to comment on past a vague nicety. Eventually Tim finishes with his questions, Elias offering what knowledge he had– or rather, what knowledge he reasonably could have. 

“So if that’s all,” Elias says, relief beginning to spread through him as the end of this meeting draws tantalizingly close. “I’ll be getting back to my desk, and you should get back to work as well. There are still plenty of hours left in the day.” 

“Not much for me to do until Sasha gets back,” Tim starts, but Elias quickly cuts him off with a click of the tongue. 

“I’m sure Jon could always use a hand, perhaps you can go get a few more boxes to pack up the statements he’s already been through.” 

“Or,” Tim strings out the word, giving a tilted grin. “I could go help Sasha with some very important research.” 

This thinly veiled attempt at getting off work would, once again, normally deserve some form of response. The least Tim could do is pretend to be working, put a little effort into the charade. But between the chills beginning to work their way up his spine, and the consistent itch that won’t leave him be, Elias finds himself with bigger things to focus on. 

“Do what you will, just make sure you gehh– get your work done before you leave for the day.” 

The single hitch breaks through his focus, Elias fighting it off with the last of his resolve. Tim doesn’t let this one slide past though, reaching over and moving the tissues closer with a touch of a smirk on his face. Apparently eager for another display from the boss. Even as much as he despises the vulnerability, Elias can’t say the… voyeuristic side doesn’t hold its own appeal. 

It’s hardly up to him though, he’s been denying the whims of this cold for far too long it seems, and luck has run out. With the last bit of control he has left, he manages to grab a handful of the tissues Tim had so kindly pushed within reach, ducking into them as the fit finally breaks through.

“hH’RRSHHhoo!”

“Woah, bless you boss, that wa-” 

Elias cuts him off with a shake of his head, still hitching desperately into the tissues. 

“N- never… nehh… never just… hK’TZSHHhoo! eh’RZSHhhoo! Christ, I cahh… can’t– eh’RSHHh’oo! hh’ETZSHhhiiew!” 

The last one comes out more whiny than the rest, Tim at least having the decency to look concerned at the change of pitch. Elias manages to watch him through watery eyes, finding it almost amusing how arguably the most charismatic of his employees seems absolutely lost as to what he should be doing. In his defense, at this stage, there isn’t much to do but ride it out. 

“ih’EZSSH–EZSHH’oo!” The pair stumbles over each other, but leaves Elias with a long enough gap to grab another handful of tissues. He manages to get off a quick blow, wincing synchronously with Tim at the noises it produces. Not like he has much ability to save any dignity now. 

Thankfully, it seems to have stopped the attack, and Elias sinks himself back into the chair Tim had pulled out for him earlier, exhausted. Really quite astounding, with how far the modern world has come, still a cure for the common cold remains out of reach. 

“Christ, boss, bless you,” Tim offers, Elias startling a bit as he comes to the sudden remembrance he’s not alone. 

“Thagk you,” Elias replies, once again leaving them both wincing at his rapidly deteriorating state. If he didn’t know better, Elias would think Peter somehow caused this illness to behave in this fashion. Alas, he does know better. And, for that matter, Know better. This state of rapid decline is par for the course in this body. It seems to have a quite poor immune system. Unfortunately not something he can blame Peter for. 

“I think you’re running a fever,” Tim pauses, seeming to, for the first time, truly take in Elias’s appearance. “A pretty bad one too, I’d guess.” 

Elias pauses, face calm as he weighs his options. It’s almost certain the bet’s lost now. The other symptoms he could probably have waved off as more dust related problems, but a fever… that’s hard to pin on a mere sensitivity, or even an allergy. 

Still, the bet’s not his main concern. Maintaining his careful balance of fear and respect requires a lot of maintenance. Being seen this unwell, this vulnerable, that certainly could tip the scales into unwanted territory. 

“I’b–” Clearing his throat, Elias attempts some semblance of normal sounding speech, though the edges of his words still hold that heavy congested tone. “I might be a touch under the weather, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I appreciate your concern, but all I need is a good night's sleep, and I should be good as new.” 

It seems a mutual agreement that that statement was a lie, and that neither of them is going to be the one to point that out. Tim offers a vague shrug, mutters something sarcastic under his breath about ‘not being Martin’, followed by something about ‘spreading the plague to the whole office’, but generally leaves without much of a fuss. 

The fussing, no doubt, will come in the form of a salt-tinged sea captain waiting in his office. Elias doesn’t even have to Know, to know that one. 

As he makes his way upstairs, shrugging off Rosie’s concerns with a tight, yet friendly, dismissal, Elias finds himself hurrying to duck into his office before the–

“hh’atshhew! at’shhoo! Christ.”  

“Bless you, Elias.” 

Elias turns to face the voice, accepting the handkerchief it offers out to him. “You knew I’d lose, dihh… ah’tzshh’oo! atschhew! heh’RRSHh’oo! Bloody hell.” 

“And again,” Peter smirks. 

“Didn’t you?” Elias finishes, keeping an eye on the figure standing next to his chair.

“Of course I did,” Peter replies, nonchalant as ever. “Rosie had you clocked since this morning. You had lost before you even accepted. Surprised someone of your standing didn’t… Know that already. Still, it was quite entertaining, watching you attempt to hide it for so long.” 

Elias simply rolls his eyes, blowing his nose for what is almost the first real time today. It leaves him breathless, and he follows it with a second, then third. He takes more than a hint of enjoyment from the looks of concern that flash across Peter’s face.

Placing a fifty on the table, Elias sinks into his chair, finally beginning to let down his guard under Peter’s watchful gaze. He puts up little resistance when strong arms guide him up, and over to the small couch in the corner of his office. The lack of resistance continues as those same arms pull him down, laying him carefully across the couch, head resting lightly on Peter’s lap. 

No words are spoken between them, but then again, they never really needed such things.

[waterfallofspace]

Hello I’m the anon you just made the wav for! I thought it was perfectly fine! Your sneezes are just so cute. Buuuutt if you wanted to try again I’m absolutely not against it :) Something that might help get the right sound is putting all the strength at the end of the sneeze. I mean hey, nobody said they had to be quiet. Then you end up with a kind of “ih’ch’IEW’ sounding sneeze. But I absolutely appreciate the wav nonetheless :D

(not a fridaysnzask, but since I have it I'll answer it as such!~)

Awh, thank you! ^^ Am glad you still liked it, and here's a little second try, still not perfect but hopefully a bit more of a 'chiew' sound to them!~ (good practice for this type of sound, even if it's not exactly what is being asked <3 hope it's still enjoyable!~)

[waterfallofspace]

little nervous making this post and not expecting much interaction but!!

the Friday Snz Ask Games look really fun, (credit to @poiub55,hope it's okay to tag! <3) so if anyone would like any of those little wavs, would be happy to give it a try, inbox is open!

[waterfallofspace]

🌵 w/ inum/aki?

Thank you for the ask~ Sorry it's taking me a little bit to fill these, been working on a different project.

🌵 Inconvenient for I/numaki~ Everyone in this is Aged Up, think 20+ Dropped under cut, 1.3k words (still a drabble!~)

(feat. M/egumi and Y/uta, and definite I/nuokko ship.) Hope that's alright~ It's just how 'inconvenient' felt to me!

“hH-” 

“Did you say something?” Megumi calls, Yuta spinning around to meet Toge’s eyes. 

“Okakahh-” With a fast rub to his nose, Toge tries again. “Okaka.” 

Megumi rolls his eyes and walks away, focus drawn to his dogs as they scan the building. Once they’re alone, Yuta gives his shoulder a light squeeze. He whispers something Toge’s sure is reassuring, but the buzzing in his sinuses renders the words lost on him. 

He shouldn’t have pulled his zipper down. They’re used to missions in abandoned buildings, the dust isn’t exactly new. Usually Toge will keep his zipper up, or stock up on medication, but he was a last minute addition to this mission. It was supposed to just be Yuta and Megumi, but Yuta had a long week and asked Toge if he’d wanna come. 

It was a sweet request, considering the circumstances. If not for this assignment they likely wouldn’t see each other for more than a passing minute between assignments. The life of a Jujutsu sorcerer is busy enough, but a special grade? Yuta barely got a day to himself anymore. 

“huhh-” But he shouldn’t have pulled his zipper down. 

He wasn’t even supposed to be using curse techniques, Yuta had instructed him not to. ‘Hey, I don’t want you to be in pain because I wanted to hang out, so leave the curse to me!’ Megumi though. 

Toge casts a glance towards the Ten Shadows user. He’s wearing the look of arrogant displeasure he usually dawns. Once they got to the building he had taken charge, despite Yuta being a higher class. He’d sent Yuta to survey the building, and instructed Toge to prepare for any smaller curses. 

Pulled from his memories, Toge feels the urgency bubble up in his throat. Megumi and Yuta are rambling on about something, Yuta can set anyone at ease. Taking the moment to retreat, Toge throws himself into an empty room, huddling in the further corner for- 

“hgNt-! dnxt-!” 

He feels the release of cursed energy fade out into the air, the buzzing from his seals starting to fade. Bringing a hand to his throat, he offers a light cough. It doesn’t seem to have done any damage yet, but holding them in will only last so long. 

“Toge? Where’d you go?” 

Following Yuta’s voice, Toge rejoins the group. He offers a halfhearted shrug, holding back the sniffle that urges to break through. Megumi seems distracted, his dogs starting to whine as they walk towards the second floor. 

Using their brief privacy, Yuta pulls Toge aside. 

“You alright? I noticed you’re a bit quiet.” At Toge’s chuckle, Yuta’s face flushes. “Well- well not quiet, well yeah quiet, but just more than normal! B- but of course you’re quiet, I mean- well you know what I mean, I ju-” 

Toge cuts him off with a soft touch, running his fingers against Yuta’s cheek. With his other hand he spells out ‘I know.’ Yuta melts into the touch, eyes starting to close, before snapping back open as Toge coughs again. 

“Is something wrong? Did your mission yesterday get intense? I had thought it was just a small thing, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have asked you to come out right after that…” 

“Okaka.” Holding his hand up again, Toge finds himself looking at anything but Yuta as he spells it out. ‘Sneeze.’ 

Now that it’s in the open, Toge lets his fingers grip his nose. The itch dies down a little, but the tingling running through his seals tells him it won’t last long. Yuta’s frowning, eyes tracing over a line in the wall as he runs through the same thought process Toge already completed. 

If it was just them, he could just let them out. While it might embarrass Toge a little still, Yuta’s made it clear he doesn’t mind. But it’s not just them. And Megumi? Megumi does mind. Out of everyone, he’s probably the most annoyed by it, Maki following at a close second. Though Maki at least has the courtesy to pretend she isn’t. 

Feeling a hand on his arm, Toge pulls his focus back to Yuta. The look that meets his eyes is determined. “I’ll make up an excuse so you can leave. Megumi never has to kn-” 

As if hearing his name, Megumi shouts from up the stairs. Toge barely catches the words, but Yuta yells back something about ‘on the way’, so they begin to run. Once they open the final door, Yuta’s mouth falls open. A swarm of low grade curses scurry across the floor, mumbling their usual nonsense. 

“Toge, your turn,” Megumi says, pulling his hands together in preparation. 

Without thinking, Toge opens his mouth. “Twishht-!” 

The spirits let out little bursts of air, beginning to skitter faster. Behind him Yuta and Megumi double over in harmony with sneezes of their own. 

Toge pinches his nose for the next command. “Crush.” 

This time it works, the spirits pulling together into a ball before crushing into mist. Megumi growls, glaring at Toge as he turns to face them. Feeling his cheeks heat, Toge offers a meek ‘sorry’, glancing at Yuta at the arm squeeze.  

Megumi’s having no part of it, wrist still pressed to his face. “What the hell was-” 

Frantically signing ‘sorry’ over and over, Toge feels the tingle spread back into his seals. He only manages to duck into his chest with the fit that refuses to be contained anymore. 

“tieshh-! ingxt-! I- Ikurahh… ashhih-! kshh’ie-! ieshh’uu-!” 

Megumi curses under his breath, raising his other hand to support his wrist as the burst takes him over. “kpshh’iew-! ingxt’iew-! apshh’iew-! hp’tschhiew-! et’pshhuh-!”

Both turn to Yuta, his hands frantically fanning his nose. “S- sorry guys it’s…. hehh- tIHHzShHyew-! kIHnXGt’ew-!” 

There’s a pause, desperation swimming through Yuta’s eyes as they begin to water. He gasps once, twice, before another pitchy whine pulls it’s way free from his sinuses. “hHyiEZSHhih-!”  

“You gonna live?” Megumi asks, the concern starting to leak out. Figures, Yuta was always his favourite. 

“Y- yeahhh… hihh! gehh… I’m okay. It juhhh… huHtieZShhYEw-! Oh, scuse me. One mehhh… more.” 

Toge attempts to sign ‘I’m so sorry’ over and over, but with his eyes fluttering shut, Yuta can’t see it. Not for the first time, Toge curses himself for being unable to communicate such a simple thing. 

Noticing his irritation, Megumi softens, offering a quiet, “He’s saying sorry.” 

Yuta manages to pry open his eyes long enough to meet Toge’s gaze. Repeating the gesture, Toge apologizes again. With his free hand, Yuta reaches over and gently brushes his arm. He attempts to talk between the hitches. 

 “You hh… have- oh wait it’s- hHdYIZShhyueww-! Oh, there we go,” Yuta chuckles, rubbing his nose. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who takes five minutes to get through what takes you two mere seconds.” 

A tense silence falls over the trio as Toge sniffles, Megumi casting a dark gaze his way. Toge replies with “Okaka.” Done, for now. 

Just as Yuta thinks about filling the silence, Megumi breaks it first. “When you, uh, hold them in like that-”

“Stifle,” Yuta offers. 

Megumi nods, attention still on Toge. “When you stifle, that makes others stifle too?” 

Flinching a little, Toge nods. It’s hard to test that sort of thing, but through Yuta he’s learned a bit more about how the effects work. It has something to do with cursed energy and the way it’s a ‘command’, of sorts. 

“Huh,” Megumi replies, a bit of humour in his tone. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard Yuta stifle before.” 

His turn to blush, Yuta’s voice cracks as he begins to stammer out a reply. “W- well I usually don’t, or I guess more can’t. Well, okay I can, but-” 

Letting himself fade into the background, Toge watches the interaction unfold. Megumi seems enraptured, attention completely centered on the ramble Yuta’s going off on. A little pride works its way into Toge’s heart. Yuta really is something incredible. His Yuta.

[waterfallofspace]

9, 42, and 45 for a sick, sneezy vash please, if that’s okay? 😄

Thank you for the ask, of course that's okay!! (it does feature a hint of W/olfwood action too, just a smiiidge, hope that's alright hehe~ It's also a V/ashwood story since, well, I figured that would be alright~!) 1.9k words, prompts 9, 42, and 45, story under cut! 9. “You’re trembling.”  42. “Baby, you’re all sniffly.”  45. “Your nose is literally twitching.” (Brief mentions of anxiety just incase anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

“hn’chh-! hh’keshh-! ‘Scuse me, sorry.”

“I told ya, no need for the ‘pologies.” 

“Y- you did but it’s a hahh... habit. hek’ishh-! Sor-”

A dark look from Wolfwood cuts off the apology, Vash being reduced to stuttering out some nonsensical syllables in his effort to recover. His leg is still, but there’s constant movement in his hands as they attempt to find something to grab onto. Anxiety was never a stranger to the man, despite apparent lack of concern for his own safety most of the time.  

The town they find themselves in doesn’t have a motel, which isn’t that unique in these parts. They’ve grown quite used to sharing a room, or even just a bed, wherever they could find one. For instance, they’re currently sharing a guest room above the town bar. Not an awful crashpad, a couch, nice radio, their own bathroom. 

It’s secluded from the rest of the bar too, giving them a bit of privacy. Sliding onto the bed, Wolfwood motions for Vash to join him. Surprise crosses his sharp features as the request is denied. Instead, Vash points himself towards the couch, offering a wave over his shoulder as he spins away. ‘Well that’s new…’ 

“What, suddenly too good to share a bed with me, Blondie?”

“Wh- what? No, not at all! I just… I figured you’d- en’chh-! ih’tshhie-! Excuse me, sorry. Where was I..? Oh right, m- maybe you’d want it to yourself this time and I don’t mind t- taking the couch.”

“‘Cause of your cold? I don’t care, now get over here.”

“Because of my- what? I’m… I’m not sick?” 

Wolfwood doesn’t reply, instead he lets the uncomfortable silence settle over the room as he watches Vash. ‘Either he’s playing dumb, and doesn’t want to admit it, or the needle noggin really didn’t notice. Gotta know which before I make my move.’ Under the weight of tension starting to spread through the air, Vash gives a heavy sigh. The breath comes out shaky as his body vibrates, hands starting to rub his arms.

“You’re literally trembling. You tryna tell me that ain’t shivers?”

“It’s not! Well okay… I mean it is shivering, but not from sickness, it’s just cold in here, that’s all! ennchh-! Sorry, excuse me.”

The sneeze brings a fresh round of shudders as Wolfwood raises a brow at the display. ‘So denial it is then. If it was cold in ‘ere I’d’ve noticed long before him.’ A blessing almost slips out, but that’ll just lead to a new round of apologies. Right now it’s more important to get an admittance and go from there.

“Blondie, we’re in a fuckin’ desert. It’s not cold anywhere.” 

“W- well they must have the air on! Or… or something… probably the air, b- because it’s so hot out, so they uh… they want it to be cool indoors.”

“Guess I should go ask ‘em to turn it off-”

“Hey- wait no, uh… it’s- it’s actually starting to uh… warm up..? D- don’t bother them. hk’ishiee-! Sorry. They let us stay here, I don’t- I mean we don’t want to be a burden on them-”

A hint of pride starts to break through Wolfwood’s mind as he grins. ‘And there it is. Gotcha.’ Vash has always been hesitant to be a burden. Not a horrible mindset to have for most people, ‘Hell, a few could use more of it’. The problem is that his definition of ‘burden’ includes things such as eating, sleeping, breathing, or simply existing when he’s not actively helping in some way. 

Sickness was high on his list of ‘things that make me a burden on everyone I come in contact with’, despite Wolfwood’s constant reminders that he doesn’t mind. However, there is something above it, and that’s ‘bothering someone else’, especially when it’s for a made up reason. Given the choice between admitting sickness or waking the bartender to ask them to turn off the ‘air’ that doesn’t exist, well…

“-Okay fine. I might be… a little bit sick… but- hh’ishh’iee-! hehh- en’chhh-! heh’kshh’iew-!” 

“Blessin’”

“Thank you, sorry, it’s really not that bad!”

“Then get in bed ‘fore it gets worse.” 

“I uh… I really don’t think that’s-”

“I’ll even read from the book I’ve been finishin’. But that's a limited time offer, Blondie. Goin’ once, goin’ twice-” 

Before he can start the next word, Vash hurls himself towards the bed, an excited set of vibrations starting to replace the shivers. Wolfwood chuckles, lifting the blanket from his legs to wrap it around Vash, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. In response the huddled form leans into his lap, head resting against his chest. 

“Ready?”

“Yehh… yep!” 

“Alright. The second reason he realized she was gone was from the smell. The air had lost a sweetness. One he’d grown so used to he hardly recognized it anymore. That is, until it was gone. -----” 

Wolfwood continues reading, his focus being drawn away from the world once more. ‘Would’ve thought romance books were more Blondie’s thing, but… well… after he gave me that one about the garden love story… I guess I could understand the appeal… But only because Vash likes it when I read them. That’s all.’ No one else can hear him, but Wolfwood still feels the need to justify the surge of emotion starting to creep through his heart. 

Maybe it was the fact Vash had given him them. Maybe it was the fact that blondie was gazing up with a hazy adoration as each word leaves his throat. Doesn’t really matter why. All that matters is how the words seem to glide off the page, through his deep voice to dance around their heads, playing out each scene as he reads them. This sensation is short lived though, as soon he feels himself snapping back to the bedroom where a soft sound has begun.

“hkk-! guhh…” 

“Brushing the branches from his uh… from his face, he starts to cut through the dense forest.”

“heHh-! hhh… Snnff-”

“T- the branches, oh wait read that already, ah here we go. The dense forest. Eyes seem to be peering at him through the-”

“hahHhh- snff- hkIH-! hehh…”

“Through the, uh, the-”

“hhih-!”

“Christ, Blondie. Just sneeze already.” 

Vash’s head pops out from its blanket cocoon against Wolfwood’s chest, a pink tint spread across his cheeks that has nothing to do with his cold. Bringing up a single finger to lightly rub his nose, Vash tries to offer a sincere smile. What instead crosses his face is a look that just screams itchy. Wolfwood feels a sympathy tickle through his own nose. 

“Wh- what?”

“Your nose is literally twitching. You’re makin’ me itchy from the look of it. Jus’ sneeze, it’s okay. I’ll even pause my readin’.” 

“I- I don’t… okay yehh… yes I do- I’m so sorry ehH-!”

“Don’t ‘pologize. Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of.”

“eH’tmmfshh-! hh’mmshhii-! hk’ishh’ieee-!” 

He attempts to muffle the first two into his hand, the third escaping with a pitch that sounds incredibly unsatisfying. ‘No wonder he always has these long drawn out fits. Those sound like they do nothin’ to relieve the itch.’ Pausing his analysis, Wolfwood leans towards the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them into Vash’s unused hand. 

A timid smile meets the gesture as Vash brings them to his nose, humming a sigh. The action seems to bring a new level of irritation, his breath snaring as the tissues are gripped tighter. It teases him for a minute, Wolfwood choking back a laugh at the whimper the tissues barely muffle. Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, a desperate “hnnchh-! ih’tishiee-! keshh’ii-!” break through. Wolfwood lets a knuckle crush his own nose, sympathy waves running through it again.

“Blessin’.” 

“Thanks. Sor-”

“You’re only welcome if you don’t finish that apology.” 

“-So are you gonna keep reading..? hih’ishhiee-! hk’ieshh-! Excuse me.”

“Blessin’s. Good save, Blondie. Remind me where we were?”

“Eyes in the- eh’kshhiee-! forest.”

“Blessin’, alright. So- wait… hold on a sec.”

Wolfwood lets the book rest on his knees, staring up through his sunglasses at the ceiling. Vash attempts to follow his gaze, but can’t notice anything worth staring at. Deciding to ask, Vash leans up to meet his eyes. Hardly a noise escapes before Wolfwood holds up a finger to silence him, tilting his sunglasses down and blinking through the brightness. 

“huh’yIEZzshh’oo-! ai’GNZSHhh’oo-! Whew, that’s better.” 

“Oh- bless you! Did- did I get-”

“No you didn' get me sick. My immune system ain’t nearly as fragile as yours.”

“Hey! Well then, is- hh’tieshh’ii-! Excuse me. Is something bothering you?”

“Nah, jus’ a tickle. Think it was ‘cause of the itchy look you were wearin’.”

“Oh, okay! S- sorry…”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Blondie. Now, back to the book?"

"Yes!"

"Eyes seem to be peering at him through the darkness. Watching his every step, daring him to come closer. Daring him to betray his heart alongside his kingdom. What did they know? Surely not his heart. That was something that couldn’t be known by anyone, not after her. ------.” 

Wolfwood feels the words flow from him once more, almost before his eyes can trace their forms on the page. Figures begin their dance, chasing each other in beautiful patterns through the humid air. The only thing pulling him from the daydream that he finds himself in far too often with Vash is the sound of constant sniffles. 

There is an outright refusal to address the noises, so instead Wolfwood continues reading, making it through another two chapters before giving in and setting the book back down. Vash looks up with an innocent gaze, absentmindedly rubbing his palm against his nose as another sniff breaks free.

“Baby, you’re all sniffly. You can blow your nose.”

The pet name gets the reaction it was meant to, Vash suddenly laser focused on Wolfwood’s every word. ‘Alright, easy now with this next part. He’s jus’ about there, gotta be delicate. Which… has never really been my strong suit.’ There’s a hint of unease beneath Vash’s smile, palm crushing against his face again. 

“I know you’re sick, Vash. You told me that earlier. So you can drop the ruse.” 

“We- well…”

“It’s just us.” 

Vash flushes as Wolfwood passes him another handful of tissues, but brings them to his nose anyways. He turns away, ever mindful of others, and blows a couple times. The first seems unsuccessful, but by the third he manages to get a semblance of airflow through his sinuses. 

Giving a heady sigh of relief, Vash turns back to Wolfwood, mouth open as if to form words. He never gets the chance, the next breath through his sensitive nasal passages bringing his hands up to his face by instinct. Wolfwood chuckles, letting a hand drop to rub his back through the fit. 

“hH’ieshh’ie-! keshhh’iee-! hihh- tnnshhii-! Ih’tieshhiee-!”

“Blessin’s. Heh, you’re awfully adorable at times, Blondie.”

“I am no- heH’ishh-! hk’ishh-! tieshh’iee-! not!” 

Humming out another laugh, Wolfwood brushes the hair from Vash’s warm skin, planting a kiss on his forehead. Vash responds with a sigh, airy and light, before he sinks back into Wolfwood’s chest, wrapping himself deeper into the blanket. A smirk crosses Wolfwood’s face, ‘Not cute, huh?’ before he lifts the book once more.

There, in the safety of Wolfwood’s embrace, Vash finds himself drifting off to sleep, figures dancing through his mind as the deep voice fades off into a peaceful darkness.

[waterfallofspace]

Breaking Windows & Walls

The one in which R/anpo must save P/oe (for a change) and discovers the reason his dear accomplice was captured. And then, once they’re safe, R/anpo discovers something else, this time about himself.

Requested by the dear @onetrickponi. I hope I didn't make you wait tooooo long, and hopefully this can help give you a little distraction right now <333 (Not sure how well I did the 'language' part, but I hope you can enjoy it anyways~!)

The Request: - R/anpo helping out P/oe, (role reversal from canon) - R rescuing P, P has a raging head cold, R figures out quickly, (P can silent stifle, but the shuddering is hard to miss) - P is sleeping, R admires him, and is fascinated with getting P to sneeze freely

Characters: P/oe, R/anpo (R/anpoe ship lightly implied) ft. T/anizaki Word Count: 3.4k (a 'ficlet' she said, lying. Sorry hahaha~)

~~~ Windows ~~~

It should have been straightforward. 

The intel was carefully collected, each step was crafted with precision. The script was perfect and the stage was set. Ranpo even deduced how it would all go down. It should have been straightforward, there was no room for errors. 

“Instead, I’m stuck breaking into a building at three am all alone because no one else wants to wake up for a rescue mission.” Kneeling next to the basement window, Ranpo finds himself monologuing. Not an uncommon occurrence, simply a side effect of the incredible deduction ability!

Placing his jacket against the glass, Ranpo directs a firm blow, and- ouch, that was harder than expected.  The following crash elicits a yelp from the detective tied to a chair in the middle of the moonlit room. Sliding through the frame with ease, Ranpo lands gracefully, flashing a smirk towards his colleague. 

“Care to explain how you got caught using my brilliant plan, Poe-kun?” 

The bleary gaze he gets in return answers all on its own. Still, Ranpo finds himself waiting for the vocalized response, bowing slightly in one of his favourite poses. Poe simply watches him, an unfamiliar look resting behind his eyes. Maybe drugged? 

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” Ranpo demands, foot starting to tap against the glass splattered floor. Each crunch leaves Poe wincing, his lips parted in what Ranpo can only assume is a scowl, quite rude seeing as this is a rescue operation. 

“How did you find me?” Poe replies, a quiet undertow of exhaustion to his words. Ranpo decides to ignore the way he dodged the question, instead taking a new stance, hands against his hips.

“You missed check in.” 

This response seems to stick in the air, Poe tilting his head towards the window. “Has… has it really been that long?” 

“We don’t have all night, the guards are on break for now but they’ll be back in four minutes. Probably assumed you wouldn’t be able to get out on your own,” Ranpo offers, clicking open his knife, and beginning to slice the rope. “I don’t blame them, how were they to know I was coming to your aid.” As the rope falls limp against the ground, Ranpo turns to the window, beginning to climb up. 

He’s halted as a voice sounds out, timid yet clear. “I can’t climb through there.” 

Without casting a glance back, Ranpo tosses his reply over his shoulder. “I put my jacket over the glass, it’s perfectly safe, you won’t get cut. Now, stop hesitating, we have to go. My rescue, like all my plans, is flawless if you follow my instructions.” 

Based on the weighted sigh and crunching beginning to sound off from behind him, it seems the words got their point across. 

Along with one more noise, he can’t quite place. “hh’kngt-! ngxt-! ngt’chh-!” 

Once they’re both through the window, Ranpo leads the way, watching his breath swirl through the chilled night air. Maybe using your only coat to break a window isn’t the best plan. 

“So, are you planning to tell me how exactly you got captured?” Ranpo begins, spinning on his heel to gaze at the detective- 

-not following him? Still at the window, Poe’s back is towards him, body dipping in rapid succession. Even without his coat, the edge of cold in the air is dulled, certainly not sharp. It shouldn’t be leading to this level of shivering, he’d deduced early on it might be unpleasant, but not full shivering…? 

“Poe-kun, are you alri-” 

“nxgt’chiew-!” 

At the noise, Poe whips around to face Ranpo, pink staining his pale cheekbones. “I’m so sorry, Ranpo-kun, that one escaped, it was just… I was distracted and…” 

Ranpo begins to piece together the series of events that led them here. They didn’t speak in person, instead texted. Being careful with wording, it was easy to get away with his affliction. The deductions didn’t take into account Poe’s altered mental state from the fever, and… this leaves only one conclusion. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

This seems to catch Poe off guard, further evidence towards the conclusion being correct. He raises a hand back to his face, this time not turning around as he crushes a few more bursts silently into his palm.

Once the attack dies down, Poe lifts his voice, head remaining bowed. “I’m not… I’m not sick. Just something in the air doesn’t agree with… it doesn’t agree with me! That’s all.” The statement is punctuated with a sharp cough that leaves his breath rising into the air, mimicking the eyebrow raise Ranpo points his way. 

“You’re sick. I don’t even need to use deduction to figure that out,” Ranpo pauses, pulling out his glasses with a flick of the wrist. The panicked look he receives confirms his further suspicions as he continues. “But I could use it to figure out exactly what went wrong, if you refuse to tell me.” 

The truth is, both of them already know what went down. Poe was supposed to infiltrate the cell with a carefully constructed ruse, and said ruse didn’t account for the fevered slurring. Since each exact line was crucial to the interaction, slipping up was a dead giveaway. Add the fits that left him breathless, and he was basically a rabbit walking into a wolf den. 

Easy prey. And even easier to avoid, if all facts had been given from the start. 

“There’s no need for that, Ranpo-kun. I’m… I’m well aware that if… if you… hh-!” Dipping back into his palm, Poe stifles the next few bursts.

“nchh-! en’chh-! nchhh-! nn’chh-!” Each sound is no louder than a gust of air. If he wasn’t in the middle of a sentence, maybe Ranpo wouldn’t have noticed at all.   

Instead, he finds himself studying Poe. They seem to come in sets, rapid-fire bursts that build intensity as they’re suppressed. Poe’s knees buckle as he leans against the wall, the final one nearly scraping its way out again. As the fit subsides, it leaves only a breathless “gnxt’chh-!” to show it existed at all. 

Without a word, Ranpo drapes Poe’s arm over his shoulders, bearing the majority of his weight. Lips part, a refusal starting to bloom on his tongue, but Ranpo shuts it down with a single look. Once he’s confident the remaining gap is only for breathing, they begin their journey back towards the car. Finally. 

A few steps in, Poe begins to shudder against him. The fever shouldn’t be this bad, not this fast, is he sicker than previously thought? Maybe it’s chills, those can cause- Oh. 

Catching a glimpse of the undeniably itchy look on Poe’s face, the answer is suddenly obvious. Almost ridiculous he didn’t catch on before, Poe was just doing it. Still, these are even quieter than before, each stifle perfectly silenced. Not even a brush of air escapes from his pinched nose. 

“Blessings, Poe-kun.” 

Given the horror that passes through Poe’s eyes, you’d have thought Ranpo stabbed him. And even so, the words seem to have that effect, his breath growing faint as he nearly knocks himself to the ground attempting to face Ranpo. 

“Wha- what?” Poe stammers, eyes beginning to show through his hair as the wind brushes a few strands from his rose coloured cheeks. Ranpo can’t help but chuckle at the sight, he can be quite adorable at times… 

“It’s a blessing,” even while teasing, Ranpo can’t help himself from providing the explanation, despite Poe clearly knowing already. “In western culture, people offer one when someone is suffering with sternutations.” 

“Y- yeah I know-”

“Seeing as you’re fluent in English, and originally from America, I thought it appropriate to partake in the culture you’d be more familiar with,” Ranpo lowers his voice, eyes meeting Poe’s in a gaze that almost feels too personal. There’s a slight water beginning to run down Poe’s cheeks, and Ranpo decides not to think too much into that, problems for another day. 

“Thank you, Ranpo-kun,” Poe begins, turning away for a minute with a hushed noise. 

Well that won’t do. “Speak up, I can’t understand you when you’re muttering. It’s like trying to interpretare Karl’s noises.” 

The flush deepens as the floor seems to grow in interest rapidly to Poe. “I- it just… sometimes… well uh so just… sometimes it gets hard to not be speaking in… my language. Especially when the words are already… a little fuzzy.” 

“From the fever,” Ranpo finishes, ignoring the pleas of ‘no’ and ‘I’m fine’ that burst almost as rapidly as the previous fits. There’s a beat of silence, Poe leaning back against Ranpo as his knees begin to shake again, Ranpo trying to ignore the way… holding him up feels, almost protective. 

“I guess we do speak in my language most of the time, don’t we?” 

Poe doesn’t meet his eye, instead ducking into his wrist with another stifle, this time it slips through his defenses. “eh’gnxtieww-!” 

Letting his voice blow warm air against Poe’s ear, Ranpo begins to speak again. His accent is flawed, and the words are rough around the edges, but the sentence is grammatically perfect English.

“Bless you, Edgar. Let’s get you home.”  

There’s a sharp inhale in reply, though if it’s from the English or another sneeze is anyone's guess. Pulling him closer, Ranpo continues back to the car, without a coat he’s starting to freeze out here, both detectives being sick isn’t gonna help anyone. 

A noise breaks the silence after a few minutes. It’s soft, Poe’s accent dulled by the familiar American tones. “Thank you, Ranpo.” 

~~~ Walls ~~~ 

As the car door closes, both detectives breathe a sigh of relief. As always, Ranpo’s foresight was excellent, leaving the car running so the backseat was warmed. Poe still shivers violently, Ranpo sighing as the shuddering devolves back into another silent fit. Each jerking motion is followed by a wince, his sinuses clearly upset at the abuse. 

Regardless, pressing the issue further is sure to lead to more denials, so Ranpo lets it go, however obvious the infliction may be. Almost insulting at this point to act like it’s not noticeable. 

“I called Kunikida to pick us up, since I can’t drive us home, and…” Ranpo leaves ‘you’re in no state’ unsaid. “Though I suspect he’ll be sending Tanizaki in his place. His schedule doesn’t allow for such early morning adventures.” 

“Genius as always, Ranpo-kun,” Poe replies, doubling over into his lap as the words bring another set of coughs along for the ride. Ranpo can’t help flinching at the noises, which… of course Poe noticed, and pulled away.

“Hey,” Ranpo says, softening his voice. “That doesn’t sound too good. Should I call Kunikida back and ask him to bring some Esutakku Eve Fine?” 

Poe chuckles lightly in response, rewarded with another harshly stifled sneeze for his efforts. “eh’gznnxch-! Despide livig here for years dnow, I’b still dot caughdt up with medicadtions.”  

The congestion barely hides the exhaustion starting to lace his words, and he continues to mumble something Ranpo only catches as ‘Quill’ and ‘brand names’. 

It wasn’t an answer for ‘should I call Kunikida’, but Ranpo easily deduces that at nearly six am, he wouldn’t be picking up anyways. As these deductions start to fade away, Ranpo feels a weight hit his shoulder. Eyes turn down to find Poe slumped against him. 

For a moment, a single moment, all his logic is void, and Ranpo finds himself panicking. Did Poe just faint? The fever was bad, but it shouldn’t have been passing out levels of bad- Maybe calling Kunikida is the right choice after all, or maybe Dazai, he’d actually answer, or mayb Atsu- 

The panicked rantings are cut off by congested snores starting to fill the silent air. Logic takes its seat back at the forefront of his mind as Ranpo feels his breathing slow to normal. He’s just sleeping. Given how sick he is, and the events of last night, that makes complete sense. 

Gently lifting his arm, Ranpo watches Poe curl closer to his chest, a slight hum breaking free from his chapped lips. In this moment, this quiet peace, Ranpo finds himself bathing in the beauty radiating from the heat-kissed detective in his arms. 

As light peeks in through the glass, the warm colours wash over Poe’s delicate features, gliding across his fever-stained cheeks. A feeling starts to form in Ranpo’s mind, one that jumps down into his gut. All the deduction in the world wouldn’t be enough to pinpoint this feeling, and none was even tried. 

Ranpo feels his breath catch as Poe stirs, reaches a hand up, and stifles into his wrist. A slight wisp of air escapes, “en’chh-!” not as silent as before, yet still nothing at all like a real sneeze. As he curls back in, the snoring beginning anew, Ranpo finds himself grappling with a new fact. 

He wants to see Poe let them out.

Stifling even in his sleep, it’s just… it’s so controlled, and so careful, and so nervous, and- Ranpo just wants to see it set free. To watch Poe let it go, and completely open up. 

Careful not to wake him, feeling his heartbeat in his throat, Ranpo angles himself so Poe’s head is resting in his lap, and sets to work. He gently traces the bridge of Poe’s nose with his finger, pressing at the tip. He can feel it pulse at the touch, a quiver running through his nostrils that spreads down Ranpo’s entire body in response. 

Still, despite the irritation, it doesn’t seem to be enough. So, reaching into his pocket, Ranpo pulls out a tissue he’d left there days earlier. Unused, of course, though it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Despite knowing the procedure, he’d never performed the action before. 

Ranpo felt his hands tremble as he twisted a corner into a point, running it along his hand to test. It’s soft, leaving sensations not unlike a tickle along his skin. This should be ideal. Glancing over towards Poe, Ranpo finds his heartbeat speeding up, his breaths coming shallow and fast. 

His hand reaches down, sliding the tool into its intended target. He twirls it around a few times, dragging it up and down each inch of skin inside Poe’s nose. Ranpo watches how his face contorts with irritation. Noting what spots make his nostrils flare, and how if he drags it across certain areas Poe’s breath with catch. 

Using this to guide the instrument, Ranpo swirls it deeper, delight filling his lungs as a twitch runs through Poe’s body, spreading from his nose down through his back into his hands. Finally he gives the tissue a sharp twist, and Poe’s entire nose quivers in response. There, finally found the spot. 

Gently guiding it back and forth, eliciting breathy hums, Ranpo watches the sheen begin to form on the rims of Poe’s nostrils, the tip of his nose scrunching, lashes fluttering despite his eyes remaining closed. After what feels like a lifetime, there’s a final shaky inhale. 

“hh’ekshhhiee-!” The sneeze breaks free, unrestrained but soft. There’s a tired edge to it, the breathless sound matching the way Ranpo feels his vision beginning to swim. 

Conscious, but not quite awake, Poe manages to raise a hand to his face in time to catch the next batch. “hh’izzshhiew-! ah’kezzshhiee-! kzzehshhhiew-!” They’re a touch harsher, his voice starting to fill them out. 

Poe’s eyes drag open, just to slam shut again as his fingers begin to tighten around his nose. A sudden panic that he can’t quite explain fills Ranpo’s throat, his words starting to fall out rough and scattered. He grabs Poe’s wrist, light yet firm, and meets the confused gaze with a gentle one of his own.

“Don’t stifle them.” 

Gasping in response, Poe manages to nod, before ducking into his hands with the first real fit he’s had since Ranpo rescued him and this god-awful cold he’s brought with him. 

“aH’KZSHhhuew-! keh’ZSHHhhiew-! huh’kNZSHhiee-! ak’nzehhhieew-!” 

“Bless you, Poe-kun,” Ranpo murmurs, captivated by the display.

“Tha… thagk- hH’ENZShhiew-!” Poe manages to pause long enough to let out a sniffle, rubbing his nose frantically as his eyes cloud over again. “Oh, sguse mbe- ah’TNZSHhiehh-! hh’INGZShh’iew-!” 

Another blessing slips off Ranpo’s tongue, as naturally as breathing, despite the rarity of such customs in his world. Poe doesn’t seem to notice this one, too caught in the whirlwind of hitching and sneezing. His sinuses seem the type to ‘resent and remember’, not forgive and forget. 

“ah’tzshhuuee-! Oh Christ- ahhh… heH- knZESHhiew-! hh’eNGZSH’diew-! hH- guhhh…” Finally seeming to get a break, Poe turns to Ranpo, the tips of his ears starting to adopt that beautiful pink sheen.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he speaks up, voice still holding that breathless sound that follows a sneeze. “Was there a purpose to that, Ranpo-kun?” 

For one of the first times that he can remember, in his entire life, Ranpo finds himself speechless. There’s no answer. There’s no logic to back this choice. It was just… a choice. And… there’s no regret, it felt like the right choice… feels like the right choice. 

Before he can stop it, he finds himself starting to speak. “I just… wanted to see you let it go.” 

Poe smiles, a gentle sort of look that brings Ranpo’s heartbeat right back into his throat. When Poe begins to speak again, that breathless sound is still there, this time matching the way his nose is shaking. “Well.. if- ihhh… if you wish it so, let it… lehhh… let it be.” 

“Are you su-”

“hH’GNZSHhhiew-!” Through his hands, Poe manages to shoot Ranpo an awkward smile. “I dohh… hNZSHhh’diew-! I don’t think I cou… could…. ak’tnESHhziew-! Could stop even if… even…” 

He trails off, staring at the roof of the car as his tongue starts to press through his lips. Shallow little breaths sound from his lungs, each one seeming to leave him itchy, but not quite over the edge. Ranpo reaches over and taps his nose, before realizing… why? That wasn’t thought through, there was no reason behind that, but… 

Poe lets out a faint moan of relief, raising his hands back to his face. “Thankyou- eH’TIEZZSHH’iee-! ingzshhhiee-! ah’kntzsshuu-!” 

“Bless you again. Are-” Ranpo’s cut off by a yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin as a knock on the window has Poe bashing his head on the roof. They both stare towards the source of the noise, jumping again as the front door of the car opens, and Tanizaki climbs into the driver's seat. 

“Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there. Sorry for the wait, Kunikida-san didn’t give me a lot of warning, and I didn’t want to wake Naomi so I had to be careful sneaking out,” Tanizaki offers, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as matching glares are pointed his way. “I guess I could have given you a little heads up before just knocking on the window…!” 

“Maybe a little, yeah,” Ranpo replies, an edge to his voice that he can’t quite place. Why is it there…? At least, until Poe sniffles against his wrist, the fit clearly not over. Oh… that’s why. 

“Oh, are you feeling okay?” Tanizaki asks, beginning to start the car. Poe can’t reply, breath stolen by the overwhelming itch that’s not quite ready to let him go. 

“hh’kNXGT-! ek’gZNT’chh-! hehh- hH’EZNCHH-!” The stifles are punctuated by harsh gasps, and light moans as each seems to only send the tickle deeper into his sinuses.

Tanizaki opens his mouth to respond, but is quickly cut off as Poe lets out a whine, and the sneezes begin to burst forth, too desperate to be suppressed. “ek’ZIESHHiee-! hh’ENGKZSHh’diuew-! ah’TIEZSHhuu-!” 

Poe gasps in between, struggling to get a sentence out as the blush deepens against his pale skin. “I’b- eh’tkzshhiew-! I’b sorry- hH’ENZSHhhiew-!” 

Feeling the burning sensation starting to bubble up again, Ranpo bites his tongue, instead pulling Poe into his chest, hiding him from Tanizaki’s line of sight. With a smirk, and barely contained irritation, he offers, “Please drive us home. Poe-kun needs to get to bed.”

“Got it,” Tanizaki replies, the sincerity in his voice starting to dull the simmering feeling in Ranpo’s gut. “Hope you feel better soon!” 

Poe manages to stall the coughing long enough to get out a weak “Thangs, eh’ktzshhieu-!” ducking back into Ranpo’s chest. 

At a calculated volume, one only Poe will hear, Ranpo speaks up with one last English phrase. “Bless you, Ed. I will care for you.” 

With a slight hum, Poe lets his eyes shut once more, the whirr of the car and the soft touch of Ranpo’s embrace guiding him back into a much needed sleep. 

[waterfallofspace]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any more V/NC snz or h/c ideas/thoughts? 👀

One of my favorite scenarios for them is that I feel like they’re set up really well for coming down with a cold in the rain/snow! It was. Definitely on my mind when they spent so long in the snow in part 2 lol. Very very soft for the image of Van or N/oe getting sick in cold weather and the other giving them their jacket. Vampire constitution is also an interesting area—N/oe teasing a sick V about human frailty or Van/itas complaining to a sick N/oe that he’s supposed to be stronger. I feel like these two clowns would end up getting each other sick and then one of the girls would have to step in and take care of them both lmao.

Vampire scenarios also work really well here like if one of the vampires is drinking blood from one of the others, but they’re wearing a new perfume/cologne that irritates the vampire’s nose. Perfumes are often concentrated on the neck and/or wrist, which are exactly the places we’ve seen vampires feed from most often in this anime… the proximity could make their reaction even worse, maybe causing them to sneeze helplessly against the other’s neck/wrist?

Van/itas begrudgingly giving a sick N/oe some of his blood (not straight from the vein of course, from a separate container) to help him recover faster so they can get on with their mission and certainly not because he cares about him in the slightest or anything like that.

That scene (or a similar one) where Do/mi binds V, but he needs to sneeze from whatever cause and it gets stuck. She might decide to have a little more fun playing with him since she has the chance,,, maybe even using a feather from a masquerade mask/costume or a quill?

Hello! So I uh... I saw this when it first came in, and I intended to answer fast but... honestly just kept coming back and reading it~ You have so many good ideas here!~ (also been on a little 'not motivated' kick, so been a lot less active~)

In order to not flood the feed, I'll stick my answers under a cut!~ But I'll say here, genuinely... that last one... I'm a little dizzy from now much I adore that >///< now get ready for some rambling! (V/anitas No C/arte Spoilers Under Cut!!)

ALRIGHT~ Now that the readmore's out of the way, let's get into this.

Firstly, the!! snow!!! I'm not a super heavy whump/general sickness person but... fevered Vanitas...? A little out of breath~ I so completely agree that if one goes down, so does the other. Noe catches something and Vanitas quarantines him to a hotel room. Vanitas only enters the room once. Vanitas is sick as a dog the next day <3 (he complains the ENTIRE time, but... hey... weirdly enough, now that he's sick... seems the 'stay AWAY from me' has faded into a light 'mmmmpf. fine.' weird how that works~)

And the girls taking care of themmmm! Even if both aren't sick, I can totally see one calling the 'other's girl' like "come get this IDIOT to take his STUPID medicine!!" (or in Noe's case, "Hey... so I don't think he's gonna let me give him the- I said give me a mINUTE pleAse! The medicine... he uh- tried to bite me last time I tried-")

Or, alternatively, the girls trying to watch over their sick boys, just to realize the only way to actually get anything done without constant nagging, complaining, and moping, is to let the idiots be together. Funny, given how adamant they were just the other day that they 'never wanted to be in the same room again'. And yet, the only time they'll sleep is when the other's safely in the same room.

And then the perfume... lord knows I've thought about that- I'm definitely more of a Vanitas girlie but uh... Noe could use a little suffering too <3 And then the girls?? ugh- just so many possibilities. And, selfishly because, ~Vanitas Girlie~ the idea of him mocking Noe mercilessly for having a fit from the person's perfume, just to succumb to a few stifles of his own from mere proximity. And, ofc, Noe would never find humour in that. (aka: he laughed, and Vanitas punched him~)

And uh... that last one... yeah nothing more to be said than I still in fact lose my actual genuine mind any time I think about it~ Vanitas, always in control, smug, arrogant, being knocked down a peg... and by Domi...? Ahahaha~ Let's just say yes <3

As a gift for making it this far, have a Vanitas~ (I did say this would be long-)

Now onto some of my own hcs or thoughts~ Pulling out the google doc again hehe~ let's do this bullet point style, then throw a few scenarios I had considered on at the end~

Vanitas:

★ Tells Noe (or most anyone) to shut up if he gets blessed

★ Regardless, will pout if he doesn't get blessed (including if he just told them to stop)

★ Enjoys most blessings, despite pretending he doesn't, but French ones will always make him blush a little~ (Noe mostly goes for a classic English, Domi figures out first that the French gets Vanitas, she debates telling Noe for about 3 days)

★ Has allergies <3 Hates, and I do mean hates that he has allergies

★ Wants to fit in with the rich crowd, but he's very sensitive to their strong perfumes and colognes, sometimes feels like he's allergic to nobility itself

★ Usually prepared, whether that's medication, avoiding settings, or setting his will in place to get through without a single symptom presenting itself

★ Despite all this, he almost never has tissues on him. Doesn't believe in handkerchiefs for anything but watering eyes or dabbing at blood, and even if he does use them, they're a 'one-and-done' deal in his mind

★ Allergic to certain types of flowers, but put him in a setting with enough of them and you'll get a reaction (aka: Waterfall wishes that scene had an allergic twist, and you know what? in my mind it does <3)

★ Not actually that prone to sickness, but when he goes down he goes down hard (and Noe will always catch it too, despite how careful they both try to be)

★ Will somehow play up every single symptom for attention, and also feign ignorance when presented with any genuine concern. A mixture of "I'b dyigggg-" and "I'b fide, shud ub." At the same time. And yes, this does get unbelievably irritating, and honestly... that's kinda the point </3

★ Cannot stand having a fever around other people, which is part of the reason he hates getting sick so often. He's quite prone to them~

Noe:

☆ Compulsive blesser, and this applies to himself as well. The only time he might miss a blessing is if he's offering an 'excuse me' instead

☆ Yes, he even blesses in the midst of battle, much to Vanitas's utter infuriation (and being around him so much, Vanitas has slipped up a few times and offered his own blessing. Noe adores this, Vanitas despises it~)

☆ Doesn't have an actual allergies (which pisses Vanitas off) but does have a few vampire-specific sensitives, as well as... I kinda love the idea of like- if he's reading a memory where someone felt certain... sensations... he feels them too?~

☆ While he doesn't have allergies, he does get sick quite often. Which Vanitas finds utterly insufferable, similiar to anything this poor man does <3 because you're a VaMpIre?!?! How are you this WEAk???

☆ Noe will always get sick if Vanitas does, but the opposite doesn't apply. While it's more than likely Vanitas will catch it too, there have been a few cases he doesn't. Noe however? Poor lad has not evaded a single illness one of his friends has befallen

☆ While he's not allergic, his nose is still sensitive, especially to touch. Feathers, flowers, even just a finger, all will work wonders when gently brushed against his delicate bridge or flaring nostrils~

☆ He's fairly similar to Vanitas in the illness department, at least in of that he will complain, a bit of a whining mess, but will still insist on coming along to every adventure

☆ Where he differes is that he won't deny any of the symptoms, and will openly admit how unwell he feels, just refuses that to be a valid reason not to join

☆ He's quite clingy when feeling unwell, and was genuinely surprised to find how much attention Vanitas will, albeit begrudengly, give him

☆ Domi has a specific gesture she does when he feels unwell, running her hands along his hair, down this cheeks, along his neck, and up the bridge of his nose. She learned it from Louis. Vanitas sees her doing it one night, and notices the way neither of them can quite seem to meet the other's eye. He never says a word, but the next time Noe's down with a vicious fever, he's surprised to feel the same familiar touch, despite Domi being far away on business. They never speak of it

☆ Canonically he has trouble sleeping if he isn't holding onto something, so... ofc this means that he's prone to waking up with a fit into his pillow, or whatever unfortunate victim he's currently clinging onto when sick~

A Few Scenarios:

✦ The flower scene, but Vanitas is a bit more allergic than he'd like to admit. Who will be the first to notice? Or, will he be be able to hide it at all? There's more important things to focus on, for all of them, and yet... maybe this is the perfect change to take care of something they can fix~

✦ The Day Noe Found Out About Vanitas's Perfume Allergy: aka, they attend a fancy party, but Noe notices Vanitas often sneaking off. More than that, he's acting weird. Quieter than usual. Noe confronts him, and Vanitas brushes it off, but... are- are his shoulders shaking? Is he... crying..?? Nope, turns out he's sneezing, these... little squeaks that seem to be doing nothing to satiate the ever-growing tickle. Jeez, even Noe's eyes are watering at this point. Time for a little intervention

✦ Noe gets sick for the first time, and Vanitas learns that his bodyguard may need a little guarding of his own. (Cue some chaos, some caretaking, and some comfort. Turns out Vanitas isn't as cold as he may come acrross, at least, not when he's certain Noe won't remember it in the morning~)

✦ Every. Single. Time. Noe. Sneeze. It. Scares. Vanitas. And you know what? Maybe it's time for a little payback. (aka: Vanitas tries to induce Noe, figuring if he has to be freaked out, and embarrassed, well... he should get to have some fun too. Backfires splendidly, turns out even when he's the cause, the volume is still enough to make Vanitas jump. Cue some playfully annoyed banter~)

Aaaaand if you made it to the end of this, well... sorry for the essay, but I hope this was worth the wait!! And that you can enjoy at least some of it~ I've not been in the writing mindset lately, but I do hope to get around to these boys someday, they just... they need some sneeziness, they just do <3

[waterfallofspace]

i’ve missed seeing you on my timeline so much and i was just thinking of you so i wanted to pop in and say i hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself <3

omg thank you so much!!! 😭💗🫂 real life has been getting in the way a bit, but i've been checking in when i can, and always happy to see your (picrew ;3) face around!~

aghaihgahugh i don't really know what to say other than this is so sweet, and I miss getting to interact more too!~

Hopefully in a few days life is gonna calm down again, but as for now!! I hope you're taking care of yourself too, I know it's been so hard for you, and I really hope it starts to get easier <3 You're such a ray of light, you deserve so many good things~ 🫂🫂

[waterfallofspace]

53 and 55 for d/azai and ch/uuya (the sick one 👁👁) perhaps please if you would like… <3

Thank you so much for the ask/request!! These have been so fun hahaha~~ I did get just a touch angsty/fever heavy towards the end, so hopefully that's alright, I promise it's not super serious! I also did want to include a little french, and while I did take it in school, I remember less than nothing, soooo this is all thanks to google, therefore I apologize for anything inconsistent/incorrect! [ Putain de merde = Holy shit ] [ À tes souhaits = Bless you ] [ Merde = Shit ] [ Je dois = I've got to ] 2.1k words, prompts 53 and 55, story under the cut! ~Part Two/Continuation Post Here~ 53. "Bless you?" 55. "You sound awful." (References to mild violence, high fevers, and swearing just in case anyone doesn't like any of those!)

~~~~~~~

Dazai is nothing if not observant. There is hardly a single detail in any given encounter he hasn’t seen, or predicted. Which is why he finds it almost insulting that people always insist on ‘hiding things’ from him. Especially his former partner. 

‘Chuuya still seems to believe, incorrectly and against all odds, that I won’t notice if somethings wrong. Something such as the cough he was suppressing that was shaking his frail little form. Or the pink tint around his nose. The nose he couldn’t stop touching throughout our encounter.’

This is how Dazai came to be leaning against a wall outside a pharmacy. And if it just so happens to be the pharmacy a certain hat-adorned Mafioso frequents, wouldn’t that be a strange coincidence. ‘Any minute now, don’t keep me waiting- Ah. Here we go~.’

Chuuya steps out of the store, a gloved hand pinching his rapidly trembling nose. ‘He must have been trying not to sneeze the whole time he was in the store. Aw~! That’s just adorable. It’s practically famous within the Port Mafia that our dear Chibi can’t hold back to save his little, tiny, life. Well, time to announce myself!’ Dazai smirks, pushing off the wall and stepping into Chuuya’s line of sight. 

“Chuuuuuya~! What a surprise, running into you here!”

“heH’EK- fuck!”

“Uh, bless you?”

“Damn it you idiot, you scared it away.” 

Dazai lets his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to break through at the look of annoyance on Chuuya’s face, nose practically twitching with unreleased tickles. He snapped his hand away from his face the second he saw Dazai, but they both know he’s just itching to bring it back up, pun intended. ‘Oh this will be even more fun then I’d foreseen.’

“S- scared away the sneeze..? Is even Chuuya’s nose easily startled?”

“Eh?! I- You- oh whatever. What the fuck ar- hahEHhh… hePT-!huhh… Damn it- What are you doing here, Dazai?”

It’s practically a growl, and Dazai doesn’t miss the way Chuuya’s hand twitches as he presses it firmly into a fist against his side. ‘You wanna rub so badly, don’t you? I wonder how long you’ll be able to hold out. Judging by that glaze coating your eyes, I’d say not long, but hey, I out of anyone know how stubborn you can be. Shall we test your resolve, Chuuya~?’ 

“I was just passing through this part of town, and happened to notice the sky starting to look a tad cloudy, so I figured I’d duck under a nice dry roof! Just so happens to be of a pharmacy- say, what is Chuuya doing in a pharmacy anyways?”

“Nothing.”

“Wow, you bought a bag just for nothing? Seems a bit of a waste.”

Chuuya’s eyes roll, teeth clenching as he snarls, both of them knowing that any other time, he would have aimed a punch at Dazai for that. 'And we both know why you didn't. Little preoccupied there, Chuuya?' Dazai studies him carefully, noticing the way his mouth is starting to twitch right along with his nose, the itch seemingly spreading across his whole face.

“I bought some pain medication, alright? I get hurt a lot in this job, and I was running low.” 

“Doesn’t the Port Mafia supply the good stuff? Why settle for cheap store bought?”

“I- I jus- Why do you even care! Doesn’t the ‘great Dazai’ have better things to do?”

“Awe~ You think I’m great? Chuuya~ you flatter me!” 

Chuuya opens his mouth to retort, but what falls out instead of a cough that he quickly attempts to suppress, ducking into his hand and spinning on his heel, away from Dazai. ‘It’s a futile effort, I can still clearly see your body shaking. I think you know that.’

“Oh Chuuya, are you not feeling well?”

“Sh- huHh-! Really? Of all the times to come bahhHh- back… hePT’NNSHH’oo-! hAh’IZZSHHAA-! heHh… AhHH-! ahH’YZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Shut up, bandage factory. J- just leave me alone, I have things to do.” 

Dazai notices the roughness of Chuuya’s voice as he lowers it, adding a growl in an attempt to make it seem intentional. ‘You must be feeling worse than I thought, a couple sneezes and a cough shouldn’t be enough to wreck your throat. Unless, of course, you’ve been doing it non-stop for days.’

“Well my schedule is completely clear, so I think I’ll just hang out with Chuuya for awhile! Where are we going next?”

“There is absolutely not a ‘we’. I am going back to my apartment. Alone.”

“Aw- come on, don’t be like that!”

“Ge- hehHh… get lost… hH’KZZZSHH’iuh-! Fucking… Ehh’knGSHH’aa-!” 

“Double blessings for the double sneeze! Keep up the doubles and you’ll start sounding like me.”

“A fate worse than death, truly.”

Dazai clutches his chest, an arm draping across his face in mock hurt, making sure to keep one eye trained on the shorter man. ‘He’s practically trembling. It’s chilly out, but not enough for that reaction, especially not for someone like him. It’s most likely a fever, but it could just be exhaustion. I’ll need an excuse to get in close to check.’

“You wound me!”

“I’d certainly like to. hah’gNNShh’aa-! hh’ETZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Quite a threat, if only you could back it up. Alas, I fear this illness has reduced you to the level of a mere goon. Certainly not an executive in the elite Port Mafia.” 

The words work exactly how he’d planned, a closed fist hitting Dazai squarely in the chest as the shorter man lunges at him, giving Dazai every opportunity to let his hand brush against Chuuya’s forehead. ‘He’s burning up. With the clouds gathering faster than I’d foreseen, I’d better get him off the street and fast, otherwise we’re looking at an outcome I’d rather avoid.’ A grunt breaks free from Dazai’s throat as Chuuya finishes the attack with a kick right to his gut. 

“That feel like a sick man’s blow? Didn’t think so. D- damn it… hAhhHh-!” 

Dazai pauses, leaning back against the wall to watch the show unfold. Chuuya has a gloved hand gripping his nose once more, eyes starting to gloss over as they lose focus. His hand is trembling, eyes starting to water. ‘Tsk tsk. We both know you can’t hold this back, are you really going to break your nose in an attempt to? Sorry, I just can’t have that.’ 

“Even Akutagawa can punch harder than that, Chuuya.” 

“Eh?!” 

Chuuya’s eyes snap to him, his hand wavers, and just like that, Dazai knows he’s won. The loss in focus, even for a second, is enough to give Chuuya’s nose the upper hand, its twitching visible from between the cracks in his fingers. ‘Checkmate.’ 

“ih’KNXT’chh-!”

Dazai bites back a wince at the way the stifle seems to scrape at Chuuya’s throat, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth as his breath catches once more. ‘Bad idea, Chuuya. You know that’s just gonna make you-’ 

“eH’KnGT’chhh-! inGT’chh-! GNT’chh-! heHh… dTnxxgt’chhh-! hH’KNgT’choo-! hEH’INGSHH’AA-!”

‘And there it is.’

“You gon-”

“AAISHHH’OO-! ATSHH’AA-! hH’INGSHH’AA-! heh’ASSHH’iuh-!”

“-gonna live, Chuuya?”

“hNGGSHH’OO-! Shut- nnMMGSHHH’AA-! Shut up- hH’INMSHHH’IUH-! S- slug… heAhh-!”

A deep chest soaked cough starts pouring out between the sneezes, rattling Chuuya to his bones, and sending chills down Dazai’s back. He nearly flinches as Chuuya falls against the wall, using it to study him as the wet coughs shake through his lungs. He manages to catch his breath, tears freely flowing down his cheeks, just to have it sucked out of him again as another round of sneezing starts up.

“hEH’NNGSHH’AA-! eh’KETSCHhh’iuh-! heP’TZZSHH’aa-! Putain de merde!”

“Doing french, are we? Well then, À tes souhaits, Chibi.” 

“Whatev-”

The hoarse quality of Chuuya’s voice, barely above a whisper causes them both to pause, a wince escaping across Dazai’s features before he can mask it. Chuuya’s eyes widen, the panic in them seeming to seep into Dazai’s very soul. They stand for a minute, eyes locked, before Chuuya straightens his into a glare once more.

“You sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You should really have taken some medicine for that.”

“That.. was the plan.. before you.. interrupted me..” 

Dazai can’t help but grimace at the harsh whisper, Chuuya attempting to lower his voice to a growl to make it sound intentional, but they both know no one’s buying it. ‘I really need to get him home and get him to take some medication. If he gets caught in the rain like this, it’ll be bad.’

Making sure to catch Chuuya’s eye, Dazai lets his hand slip into his pocket, pulling a dose of medication out, the kind you won’t find at any pharmacy. He smirks at the flash of desire that Chuuya doesn’t manage to hide.

“Whoops, guess that one’s my bad. In that case, this will just have to go to waste, I suppose. Since you have your own, and I was so rudely uninvited to your apartment.” 

“You.. can’t be uninvited.. to something you.. weren’t invited to.. in the first place.. hH’RSHH’AA-! oww…” 

They both flinch at the sneeze, Dazai letting his concentration slip for just a second. However, a second is all Chuuya needs, planting a roundhouse kick on Dazai’s arm as he snatches the vial, taking a swig before sticking it in his own pocket. Dazai raises an eyebrow at this, cheshire smile painted across his face, but a hint of something much more genuine in his eyes.

“What aggression Chuuya! You should really try some anger management classes to get that rage under control.” 

“I didn’t have.. anger issues.. until I had the misfortune.. of meeting you..” 

“Oh yes~. You were just a ray of sunshine when I first met you! Definitely no thinly repressed rage bubbling just below the surface that boiled over every time anything happened.”

“Oi.. are you trying.. to get punched again.. jackass..? eH’KtSHH’iuh-! Christ.. hASHHH’AA-!”

“Save your energy, you’ll need it. And besides, I’ve taken quite enough of a beating today.” 

Chuuya doesn’t respond, ‘Electing to save your voice too, are you? Smart, given how quickly it’s fading’ but he does give Dazai a nasty look, raising his hand to scrub at his nose once more. Dazai feels a swell of concern in his chest at how unashamed his former partner has grown about his rapidly increasing symptoms. ‘The medicine should kick in within the hour… but I doubt you’ll make it home on your own before then.’ 

“huh’KKSHH’AA-! hEIYYSHHH’iuh-! nNGT’chh-! eh’INGT’chhh-! M- merde… Je d- dois… ehH’hEZZSHH’aihh-!”

A hand is casually raised as Chuuya attempts to cover, aiming for his shoulder with a hazy look that isn’t like him. ‘Damn it, I was hoping to avoid this outcome-’ Dazai manages to think, getting cut off, just as he foresaw, as Chuuya collapses into himself. A strong grasp catches the smaller man, Dazai letting out a huff at the weight suddenly in his arms. 

“Easy there, still with me?”

A weak nod is his response, the glassy nature of Chuuya’s eyes suggesting the fever has grown worse. Touching his forehead, Dazai winces again at the heat, ‘Definitely gotten worse. The game is over, I’m taking you home now.’ Without a word, he lifts Chuuya into his arms, not missing the grunt he gets in response.

“You can fight me, and risk falling on your face, or you can just let me help you.”

Chuuya growls, but lets his eyes flutter shut, ducking away from Dazai and into his shoulder as another set of exhausted sneezes tears out of him. 

“heh’nNKjschh’uhh-! ah’mmKNschh’uhh-! hehHhh-! hEH’IZZSHH’iuhh-! Guhh..”

“Bless you. Can you stand, or shall I carry you?”

Dazai easily dodges the fist aimed his way, but doesn’t miss the way Chuuya shakes at the force of his own weight. Without a word, he moves Chuuya’s arm back over his shoulders, letting the man lean against him. There’s a certain level of unease when someone’s relying on you to walk, and yet, with the two of them, this is an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Let’s get you home, partner. The medication will kick in soon.”

“Not.. your partn-”

“Save your voice, it’s physically painful for me to listen to you. I can feel my own throat starting to ache.”

A dirty look is shot his way before Chuuya’s eyes flutter shut once more, not even bothering to turn his head away, instead aiming the sneezes towards the ground in front of them. Dazai grimaces, not from the possibility of germs, instead, entirely from the concern that washes through him at the lack of shame.

“heH’DTZSHH’AA-! AIISHH’oo-! ehh’gnSHHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Save.. your breath.. stupid Dazai..”

“Hey, at least you still have that temper! I’d be really worried if that was gone.” 

“Just.. take me home..”

Dazai lets a smile wash over his face, a warmth replacing the panic in his chest as Chuuya leans into his touch as they start the journey. ‘I’ll keep you safe, partner. Leave it to me.’

Without a word spoken between them, he knows he was heard and understood, just as he understands the response. 

‘I trust you.’

[waterfallofspace]

31 for whoever you think would fit! :D ^o^

Hello there :DD hehehe~~ thank you for the ask!! I picked TD/DK, with S/hoto being the sneezy one. Since I've already done 31 with another thing, I took the concept and changed it a tad, but hopefully it's still sticking with the theme enough! (plus, this works so well with the concept I came up with, which I hope you'll enjoy ;D) 2k words, prompt 31 (ish) story under cut! All characters are 18+, this is set when they're pro heroes. (picture mid 20's) 31: “You’ve sneezed four times. That’s not like you” (There is mild crying, just in case anyone doesn't like that, but it's happy tears, I promise~!)

~~~~~~~

Walking through the mall, Izuku ducks behind Shoto as they pass another store he’s no longer allowing himself into. Rambling a bit, he finds himself explaining the whole story to Shoto, who for his part, is humming in agreement every so often. Not a lot of words, but Izuku doesn’t need them. 

“-and so that’s why I stopped buying clothes there. I just didn’t know how to show my face again after that! I mean, how do you look an employee in the eyes knowing they’ve seen you forget your own signature for a fan…? It’s hard to be a pro sometimes, ya know?”

“Especially when said ‘pro’ is on two hours of sleep and seven cups of coffee.”

“It- it wasn’t seven!”

Shoto pauses, turning to face Izuku, a smirk painted across his features.

“How many was it then?”

A blush spreads across Izuku’s ears, dipping down into his cheeks as the floor suddenly becomes deeply interesting.

“M- maybe five… but that’s at most!”

Another hum, but this time Shoto releases a chuckle along with it, Izuku’s eyes finally unlocking with the floor to study his boyfriend. ‘It’s not uncommon to see him smile. He’s gotten better since UA days, even back then he’d smile but… he had a lot more going on. More repressed… I don’t think he knew how to let go, how to actually feel what he was feeling, how to show it. But now he-’

“Izuku, you’re doing it again.”

“Wha-?”

“The muttering.”

“Oh… s- sorry, some habits are hard to break…”

Shoto lets his hand brush up from Izuku’s shoulder to his neck, grinning at the shudder that runs through him. Izuku can’t help the sigh that escapes as Shoto lets his fingers rest gently on his cheek.

“You know I don’t mind. I just want you to ramble out loud so I can listen too, instead of in your head. The muttering may be cute, but it’s not very informative.” 

If Izuku was blushing before, he’s practically on fire now. Shoto always does know the exact thing to say to make him feel better. He’s not someone who uses a lot of words, but the ones he does are carefully chosen. Picked from the herd in his mind to be the best choice for this specific instance. Izuku always admired that, it was a skill he didn’t share. His thoughts seemed inclined to bring the whole herd with them, running free from his mouth without hesitation. 

“Izuku, you still with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry, just… thinking. Let’s keep walking?”

Shoto nods, and Izuku traces down his arm, locking their fingers together. A smile breaks through Shoto’s calm expression, and Izuku matches it with a beaming glow of his own. They continue through the mall for another few stores, Izuku rambling about the newest pro on the scene, until Shoto suddenly ducks into his free hand.

“hH’kngt-gnxxt’iew-!”

“Oh, bless you!”

“Thank you. Excuse me.”

A silence settles between them, Shoto lightly sniffling against it, and Izuku’s mind racing. ‘A double, like normal. Probably nothing, but if he has another it might mean-’ 

“You were talking about the power balance, and how it might shift with the new pro?”

It was still unusual to Izuku. Having someone who not only wanted to listen to his rambling, but would actively remember what he was on about, and remind him if he got distracted. ‘With most people, it’s kind enough for me if they don’t mind it. But… how did I get so lucky with Shoto? He wants to hear it, he wants me to continue!’ 

“Right! So because she has this amazing quirk, but it’s entirely skill based when it comes to combat situations, she’s gonna completely change the way that we look at-”

“hH’eshh-izzshh-aschhh-ktshh’oo-!”

Izuku stops dead in his tracks, wheeling around to face Shoto with his mouth hanging open.

“W- what’s with that look?”

“You… are you….”

Shoto sniffles, lightly swiping at his nose with a closed fist as Izuku stares.

“You sneezed…”

“Yeah? People do that-”

“No, no, you sneezed four times, that’s not like you. Not in a row, anyways. Usually it’s doubles, or sets of doubles, so you can get up to 10 in a fit, but they’re never piling over each other like that, they have a break in between the sets. Singles occasionally if you’re sick, and you can get three if you stifle the second in a double and it breaks free with another sneeze after, but four in a row is… unheard of… it’s not like you…”

There’s a slight pink tint to Shoto’s ears, starting to match his rapidly pinkening nose, as he listens to Izuku’s analysis. Izuku finally takes a breath, looking up and noticing the blush, and immediately feels his blood run cold. 

‘Why did I say that out loud- he knows I analyze hero information, and things that are relevant- and well he knows I know everything about All Might, but so does most, well, everyone- but he didn’t know about this… I just… I catalogue everything about him, and I notice patterns as part of my fighting style, so it comes naturally to me to analyze his patterns… he’s probably mad, or embarrassed, come on Izuku, why did you-’ 

“You really noticed all those patterns? I didn't even know most of that.” 

The voice cuts through his internal monologue, silencing the voices in his head with a power over him that only Shoto seems to hold. Izuku offers a shy smile, the hand that’s interlocked with Shoto’s twitching a little as he contemplates letting go. But the reassuring squeeze he’s given stops those thoughts too.

“Y- yeah… I just- I have a brain that notices patterns, and I don’t always get to choose when it kicks in, but I’ve found I analyze things I love most, like heroes, All Might, and…”

“And me?”

“And you.”

Shoto beams at him, a smile that sucks Izuku’s air clean out of his chest. Soon Shoto mimics this breathlessness, but for an entirely different reason.

“hIH’INGT-! hhah’ishhh-aeshhh-keSHH-IZZSHH’oo-!”

“Bless you.”

“Guhh… Thank you. It’s still so itchy… a- hahh-! Oh, excuse me. Thought I was gonna sneeze again. Any ideas of why this is happening bouncing around in that mind of yours?”

“R- really..? It’s not weirding you out..?”

“hihh’hePTSHHH’oo-aahhESHH’oo-! Excuse me. I promise, it’s not. I’m also quite curious what’s causing this s- so… so I…. hehh- Icanstopit- heH’nxggt-knngt-ESCHH-IZSHH’oo-!”

“Bless you! Well, you should start by letting them out. When you stifle them it just makes the tickle last longer, and the sneezes get more intense. Plus… it’s gotta hurt, right? When I try, it always makes my throat ache for the next few days.”

“I guess it’s a matter of practice, it doesn’t really hurt anymore, unless I do it too often. But I’ll accept your conclusion, no more stifling it is.”

Izuku feels another blush forming, his cheeks starting to swell with heat. In an attempt to crush the feeling before it can bloom, he focuses his efforts on analysis. 

“You’re not sick, you said it was just itchy, right?”

He gets a nod in response, Shoto’s free hand coming up to rub at his nose again, eyes glossing over as he stares off into the distance. Izuku pauses, waiting for the inevitable to come before he continues his thought. 

“hEH’ashhh-eschhh’iew-!”

“Bless you. See, more gentle already! Anyways- it’s just itchy, so not a cold, though I knew that already, colds for you will usually start in the throat or chest, with a cough or a sore throat, just sneezing out of the blue is unusual for an illness. So, probably an allergen. It’s not gonna be cats in the mall, plus those sneezes are usually more rapid and stick in doubles… Maybe pollen if we passed a flower store-” 

“Let’s find out.”

With that, Shoto uses their interlocked hand to pull Izuku along with him as he retraces their steps. Izuku keeps his eyes on the stores they pass, trying to discern any cause of the reaction, while still letting his mind ramble freely from his lips.

“It’s probably not pollen actually, you usually get more hitchy. Long, drawn out buildups, and these are coming on fairly suddenly… Hey wait! Stop here, I think I found it!”

Izuku grinds them to a halt, letting his gaze fall on the store in front of them, ‘Sleep Wellness’. Letting go of Shoto’s hand, eliciting a slight whine from the other man, he steps inside.

‘I can smell… something… it’s sort of like water but with earthy tones… eucalyptus maybe?’ His eyes settling on a diffuser spraying out a mist into the air. Stepping out of the store and back to Shoto, Izuku grins.

“I found it! They have a diffuser in there. That sprays a scented mist into the air, I’m guessing it’s to help you fall asleep faster, since it’s a sleep store and all. I doubt you’ve come into contact with one, they’re not super common, and I’m pretty sure the smell is eucalyptus, which isn’t that common either. Probably why I’ve never seen you have this sort of reaction before."

Without a word, Shoto steps into the store, and before Izuku can stop him, leans in and takes a sniff of the diffuser. The reaction is instant, tears jumping to his eyes as he frantically ducks into his arm with the fit that breaks through.

“hEH’IZSSHH’oo-! AESHH’yuu-! Ischhh-kesshh-tesschhh-hhreshhh’oo-! W- whoops.. hAH’ASHHH’iew-! heH’TSHHH’oo-! mMTSHH’oo-! RSHHH’iew-!”

“Shoto what the heck?!”

Izuku yelps, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the exit, Shoto helplessly sneezing into his arm as they go. Izuku whispers blessings, and offers bashful waves and apologies to people they pass, reciting-

“He’s okay, yeah, sorry, yeah he’s fine, just need some fresh air, sorry, yeah he’s fine!” 

“kNNGT’choo-! inGT’choo-! nngxtt-inngxt-knnnxgt-NGXT’choo-!”

“Bless you, don’t stifle Sho~, it’s just gonna make it worse, we’re almost outside, just try to breathe, please don’t faint, I don’t think I could carry you-.”

Shoto manages to meet his eyes through the sneezes, watery eyes still beaming with something that Izuku would almost call… pride?

“I’m- heH’izsshh-esschhh-aeshhh-hAH’ESCHH’oo-! Scuse me, I’m o- hEH’MMTSHH-! hH’RRSHH’oo-! I’m okay.”

“Bless you…” 

They make it to the doors, Izuku practically dragging the sneezing man through the crowds, before finally making it to a semi-private area. Izuku lets go, and Shoto immediately leans his back against the wall, bending into his chest with another desperate group.

“hEH’ISHH-kesshhh-mmgshhh-iZSSHH’iew-!”

“Bless you, Shoto. Mind telling me why exactly you sniffed the thing you were allergic to?”

“I wanted to prove your theory. It was… stunning… to watch your beautiful mind at work, I wanted to show that you were right. I just… hEH’EASHH’oo-! RRESHH’oo-! ‘Scuse me. I just didn’t anticipate that level of reaction.”

Izuku’s mouth is hanging open once more, eyes starting to water as he stares in awe at Shoto.

“Y- you thought it was…. beautiful..?”

A laugh bursts from Shoto’s lungs, joyous and pure. Izuku feels the tear slip down his cheek, matching the water running down Shoto’s aswell. He frantically sniffles to try to get himself under control, ‘Come on, you’re crying because he called you pretty?’ but Shoto grabs his hand, using his other to reach up and cup his cheek. He gently brushes the tears away, Izuku purring slightly as he leans into the touch, Shoto gently working his fingers up into Izuku’s hair.

“I did. It was beautiful. Like you.” 

With that, Shoto leans in, planting a soft kiss against Izuku’s trembling lips. They seem to melt into each other, arms wrapping around their backs, until finally Shoto breaks away with another rapid-

“Ishhh-keshhh-ashh-izssshh’oo-!” 

“Bless you-”

Izuku offers, just as light and breathy as the sneezes. Shoto laughs, the full body kind that has him leaning against Izuku’s chest for support. It’s a rare kind of laugh for Shoto. Something pure, full of joy, full of something Izuku didn’t know existed. Not until he met Shoto.

And now? Now his life is bursting with it.