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#and sneezing is still a noise i make with my mouth so like?? constantly having sneezes ignored when with her is not;;
jaxonkreide · 6 months
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Warum sagt deine Mutter nicht "Gesundheit" und ist dann sauer wenn Andere es sagen?! Ist die immer so oder nur bei dieser einen speziellen Sache?? o_o
(Frage in Bezug zu meinen tags in diesem reblog)
Keine Ahnung, warum sie kein Gesundheit sagt, aber ich hab ihr schon mehrmals in der Vergangenheit gesagt, dass ich es schön fände wenn sie es sagt? Einmal hat sie die Ausrede rausgeholt, dass ich doch komisch niese und sie denkt, es wäre ein Husten (sie sagt es aber auch nicht wirklich zu anderen und andere haben kein Problem damit mein Niesen zu erkennen lmao ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Sie ist nicht wirklich sauer, wenn andere es sagen? Ich glaub, wenn andere es sagen fällt ihr nur auf, dass sie es selbst nicht macht und is deshalb eher mies gelaunt? Die Emotionen sind wahrscheinlich eher auf sie selbst gerichtet, weshalb sie mal ein bisschen davon angepisst war. Aber ich hab sie nie näher danach gefragt. Ich sage ihr lieber, dass ich es gerne hätte, wenn sie mir mal Gesundheit sagen würde, als das ich frage, ob sie tiefere Gründe dahinter hat, es nicht zu sagen :/ Man denkt, dass so ne kleine Nettigkeit nicht schwer wäre aber bleghhh scheint schon so zu sein?
Zugegebenermaßen vergisst sie oft solche Art von Sachen 💀 Ich kann ihr noch so oft sagen, sie solle mich doch bitte als ihr "Kind" anstatt von "Sohn" vorstellen und sie kriegt es trotzdem nicht hin. Hat sogar neulich, als wir wo offizieles waren, wo ich meinen Ausweis zeigen musste, "Tochter" gesagt anstatt "Kind" 💀 Ist es soooo schwer ein geschlechtsneutrales Wort zu sagen??
Aber ne, sie sonst nicht wirklich sauer, wenn andere Leute besseres Benehmen haben als sie. Ich habs nur gerne, wenn mir Gesundheit gesagt wird und sie sagt es nie, außer andere sagen es zuerst, warum auch immer das so is :/
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shamefilledsnzblog · 6 months
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Relief, Part Two
The vampire brain rot continues. A/starion once again finds himself needing T/av's assistance when he comes down with a nasty cold...
Tav had given up all hope of a productive evening.
She had withdrawn to her tent for the night, intending to work on some potions with the latest batch of herbs she had gathered. It was a task she always found calming; sitting with fragrant herbs spread before her, a book on herbalism and potion-making in her lap, enjoying the soft glow of her lantern and the background noise of the camp settling for the night.
And then Astarion had joined her. Astarion and his absolutely miserable cold.
It had been obvious from that morning that the vampire was sick. Paler even than usual, he kept his distance from the rest of the group, but not far away enough to hide that ticklish cough, those damp sniffles, those frequent shivers. During a fight the day before he had been knocked into a river, and with camp hours away, had spent most of the day trekking about in cold, wet clothes. Now he was suffering the consequences. Only Tav knew the true extent of those consequences, though…
Since their time in the Underdark, Tav had become intimately aware of a peculiar feature of the vampire’s anatomy. Certain reflexes had been dulled by his undead condition, and sneezing was one of those reflexes. Things still bothered his nose, certainly. The constant haze of spores in the Underdark, the scent of garlic, dust, and now a cold in the head. But it was rare for that irritation to bring on a sneeze; at least, not without great effort. Since helping him get relief from the spores, and accidentally revealing her own peculiar interest, Tav had more than once found herself offering to help a desperately itchy Astarion sneeze, providing great satisfaction to them both.
It was that satisfaction Astarion had come seeking tonight, Tav was sure of it. But gods forbid the stubborn vampire actually ask for help. Instead, he lounged beside her, watching her work, the very picture of misery. A blanket draped around his shoulders seemed to be doing little to ease his chills, and his lips were chapped from breathing through his mouth. And his poor nose… It twitched and wrinkled near constantly, and had turned pink from being constantly dabbed at with a handkerchief. He sniffed almost constantly, and when he spoke his voice was heavy with congestion. And, every now and then, his eyes would close, his lips would part, he would tilt his head back, chest expanding with a great, expectant breath, and… Nothing.
It was all Tav could do to keep from squirming.
“Perhaps you ought to take a nap,” she suggested, after a bout of hitching turned into a yawn instead. “You might feel better after you get some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep like this,” Astarion grumbled, rubbing his nose through the handkerchief. “Couldn’t sleep all last night, from the moment I felt it setting in. Every time I started nodding off, I… I’d start to…”
Tav swallowed dryly, watching the display. She was almost sure Astarion was doing it on purpose. He lowered the handkerchief, giving her an uninhibited view of his flaring nostrils, and wrinkled his nose, trying to bring on that desperately needed sneeze. One great hitching breath… Two… And…
“Gods damn it all! Why does this have to be so miserable?”
He blew his nose angrily, and Tav flinched at the sound.
“Don’t blow so hard! If you think you’re miserable now, just wait til you give yourself a sinus infection.”
“Easy for you to say. Ugh, I hate this! My head feels so full it could burst, and my nose is a perfect nightmare!”
For you, perhaps, Tav mused, watching him rub angrily at said nightmare. Sighing, she set down her book at last, and patted her lap.
“This is going to drive us both mad at this rate. Here. Lie down, and let me help.”
Astarion gave her a look of gratitude from over the top of his handkerchief, and did as he was told, laying down with his head in her lap. Trying to keep her mind on the problem at hand, Tav ran a gentle finger down the length of his nose, feeling it twitch irritably. Astarion sniffled and let out a gasp of irritation, and tried to bring his handkerchief to his nose. Tav pushed his hand back down, giving him a reassuring smile as she pulled a clean handkerchief from her sleeve. She dabbed gently at his nostrils, which had begun to look rather damp.
“Easy. Just try to relax, and let me take care of you.”
“I'll relax when I'm free of this damned itch,” Astarion groaned, and let out a few ticklish coughs. “Do hurry up and bring out that feather of yours!”
Tav shook her head, turning her attention to the herbs she’d been working with.
“You’re a bit too… damp, for a feather, I think. Let me find something a bit sturdier.”
Keeping the handkerchief pressed to his nose with one hand, feeling his nostrils twitching restlessly, Tav selected a frond of dried grass. Delicate enough not to hurt, but sturdy enough to get the job done. Astarion snuffled desperately as she lowered the handkerchief and set to work. Starting slowly, she twirled the grass across his nostrils, and was immediately rewarded with an eager hitch.
“Hhh! Hhh-Hh! Hhhnn…”
It was never that easy. Astarion’s nose was as stubborn as the rest of him. Not wanting to tease him when he already felt so wretched, Tav gently poked the grass further into one aggravated nostril. Astarion gave a flustered snuffle, and raised his handkerchief as his nose began to run. Tav beat him to it, pressing her own handkerchief lightly against his nose, rubbing gently, still twirling the stalk of grass all the while.
“Easy… Let me take care of you…”
Astarion couldn’t answer, his breath snagging on a useless round of hitches. A tear leaked from his eye, and Tav dabbed it gently away.
“HHnn… Hhm… Hhh! I… I think… it’s…”
Tav pressed the grass deeper, seeking out the point that would release all that irritation, and found it. As Astarion drew in one last desperate breath, she covered his nose and mouth with the handkerchief, just in time.
“HHhh… Hh’tshhoo!”
Astarion sniffled damply in the aftermath, nose nuzzling into the handkerchief, and blinked up at Tav, dazed. The sneeze had been a rather weak one, and didn’t seem to have scratched the itch.
“I… I think I need more, darling…”
“Of course. Let’s try again.”
Tav set to work again, trying to find a more sensitive spot. With Astarion weakened by his cold, she was evidently going to have to work harder to bring on the kind of relief he needed. Guided by her skilled fingers, the blade of grass twitched and twirled, and Astarion hitched and sniffled and gasped, but seemed unable to bring on another sneeze. Tav withdrew the grass, bringing on a flustered snuffle and a few coughs, and set about teasing the other nostril.
“Stubborn thing…”
She tickled and twitched and twirled away with the grass, dabbing occasionally with the handkerchief, and Astarion squirmed in her lap, chest rising and falling with hitching breaths, sniffling and gasping, eyes growing decidedly teary as the irritation grew. Tav began to worry she might only be able to bring on that one weak, unsatisfying sneeze. And then, finally, the grass tickled just deep enough.
“Da-ahh-rling, I… think… I… IhhhHHSHOO!”
Again Tav pressed the handkerchief over his nose just in time. As she began to lower it, Astarion took hold of her wrist, keeping it there.
“No… I… Ahhh… Hhh… HHRASSHOO!”
A shiver ran through him after that one. A shiver ran through Tav too, for rather different reasons.
“Need me to keep going?”
“No, I think… Think there’s more… Hh! Hhh-hh-hHHSHOO!”
Tav withdrew the grass and used her now free hand to wipe away irritated tears, then gently ran her fingers through white curls.
“That’s it, you’re doing well. More?”
“HhhHHSHOO!” Astarion sneezed in agreement, and gave a series of damp sniffles. Tav pressed the handkerchief more firmly against his nose, feeling it twitch and wriggle, bringing on the next desperate “HHRRASHOO!”
Sneeze after sneeze burst out. Slower than the allergic fits brought on by dust or garlic, and judging by the way Astarion was beginning to breath more heavily, rather more exhausting. At last, with a final, exhausted “Hhishhoo!”, Astarion opened his eyes, and, taking the handkerchief from Tav, wearily sat up and blew his nose.
“Thank you, darling. I feel… Well, I still feel wretched, but that’s one misery resolved. You… enjoyed that, I take it?”
Weary from his cold, his smile as he took in Tav’s flushed cheeks was more fond than seductive. In answer, Tav leaned in and pressed a gentle, featherlight kiss to his long-suffering nose, letting out a surprised giggle as doing so prompted a ticklish “Htshhoo!”.
Astarion raised the handkerchief too late, and if there had been enough blood in him, Tav suspected he might have blushed.
“Ah! Sorry about that, darling! Although, given your… peculiarities, perhaps I ought to say ‘you’re welcome’?”
Tav let out a snort of laughter, and leaned in to kiss him properly this time… Only to pull back in alarm as Gale’s voice sounded outside the tent.
“Astarion! Might I suggest you take something for that cold, rather than keep the whole camp awake?”
Tav let out an embarrassed giggle, and called back before Astarion could snap something rude in reply.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see he’s well taken care of!”
As the wizard’s footsteps retreated, Astarion gave her a rather more flirtatious smile.
“You will, will you?”
Tav leaned in closer, but instead of kissing him this time, picked up the fallen blanket and pulled it around his shoulders once more. His seductive act dropped, and he gave an embarrassed cough that brought on several more.
“I will. But not like that. You need to sleep this cold off. Let me get back to my herbs, and I can make you something to help. And if you’re feeling better tomorrow… Well, then. Let’s see what morning brings.”
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bumbleklee · 3 years
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when you’re sick
masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server | kofi
★ gonna work on the rest of the requests tomorrow but im sick as a dog </3
★ ft diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli
★ cw: sickness, mentions of puking, sneezing, the whole ordeal + you're pregnant in kaeya's lol
diluc
when you're sick, diluc doesn't want to leave you alone
he's afraid you'll get a 106 degree fever and pass out or get up but be too weak and fall down somewhere
but he had a business to run and, really, you just had a cold
after convincing diluc that you would be fine for a few hours, he reluctantly left with promises to bring you home soup
After Diluc left for the day, you aimlessly wandered around the winery. You eventually curled up in the armchair that Diluc usually inhabited and pulled your legs into your chest. You had forgotten how annoying common colds were.
Your throat felt like it was on fire and anytime you sniffled, your chest heaved along with it. Not to mention the aching headache and constant back and forth between being too hot or too cold. You leaned your head against the couch and only came back to reality when you heard the front door open and close.
"I'm back," Diluc called out softly. You heard a bag rustling and alerted Diluc of your presence in the living room, your voice hoarse and raspy. He poked his head around the corner, "Feeling any better?"
"Not really," You groaned. Diluc walked over to you and leaned down for a kiss but you dodged his lips. "I don't want you getting sick!"
You swore Diluc pouted. "But we sleep in the same bed," He said quietly. You shook your head firmly. "Fine, fine. I brought you soup."
Diluc placed the soup on the coffee table and squeezed himself next to you on the armchair. You wanted to make another comment about keeping him healthy but decided against it, needing nothing more than the feeling of your husband right now.
kaeya
(reader is written as female but can be afab)
when you became pregnant, the elders in town said you were going to love pregnancy but right now, you hated it
your body was getting used to so many changes and it didn't know how to react
when you weren't overcome with fatigue, you were throwing up and when you weren't throwing up, you were in pain
It was early in the morning when you bolted up from bed to let out the contents from last night's dinner into the toilet. After throwing up, you sat back and wiped your mouth. You had read so many pregnancy books the last few weeks and many of them said sickness like this would stop once you entered your second trimester but you were already halfway through and you were still miserable.
After rinsing your mouth, you shakily stood up and climbed back into bed with your husband. He rolled onto his side and tucked a blanket back under your chin.
"We're never having another baby," You grumbled, curling into Kaeya's chest to try and alleviate the tension in your pelvis.
Kaeya laughed quietly but had a frown on his face, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," You sighed, "My body just doesn't like being pregnant, I guess."
Being five months along meant your baby was growing rapidly. Besides being constantly sick, your body was beginning to physically change and, Archons, it hurt. Your pelvis felt like it was being split in half sometimes and your back was already aching.
"I'm worried about you," Kaeya whispered, brushing a lock of sweaty hair off your forehead. You made a noise of acknowledgment and closed your eyes, hearing Kaeya's heart against your ear. "Do you want to see if Barbara can help tomorrow?"
"We'll see how I'm feeling," You said, exhaustion rolling over your body. Kaeya nodded and pressed a quick kiss to your temple. "I love you."
"I love you too," Kaeya said, "It'll all be over soon and we'll have a little baby to forget about the pain."
childe
you should have prepared yourself better for a month-long trip to snezhnaya
instead, you packed poorly and forgot half of the layers you were supposed to bring
so it really wasn't a surprise when you were bedridden with pneumonia a week into the trip
Childe knew something was wrong when you started complaining about difficulty breathing. You tried to stifle your coughs and blamed your shivers on the coldness but Childe knew better.
When you coughed up blood, he instantly knew something was very wrong and hired a healer to come by and check you out.
You were diagnosed with pneumonia and were immediately put on bedrest and given some medication. Childe stayed by your side the entire time and even though you tried to convince him to go and spend time with his siblings, he wouldn't.
When you slept at night, Childe stayed awake to hold your hand and when you were awake during the day, Childe napped next to you. When you had horrible coughing fits, throwing up mucus and blood onto your lap, Childe rubbed your back and cleaned you up.
Until you got better, Childe would be there.
zhongli
when you began to have stomach aches, you played it off as a little bug you caught
but zhongli knew you better than that, knew your body better, and when you collapsed on the kitchen floor into a fetal position, he had no doubts something was severely wrong
within minutes, you were in baizhu's infirmary with a kidney infection
"How are you feeling?" Zhongli asked quietly as he stepped behind the curtain and sat down on the edge of your bed. Your complexion was so pale, so lifeless, and it really scared him. 
“Like someone is twisting a knife around my gut,” You groaned. Baizhu had given you pain killers but they were hardly helping. You seriously thought that if you moved an inch, you would throw up everywhere. 
Zhongli rubbed your knee comfortingly and smiled sympathetically at you. “Let me know if you need anything,” He said. “Do you want me to stay or go?”
“Stay,” You muttered, “Please, stay.” 
“Of course, Darling.” Zhongli moved so he was beside you, his back against the headboard. You moved your head onto his lap, groaning for a moment, before closing your eyes. Zhongli’s hands tangled in your hair and soon a fevered slumber began to take over. “I love you...”
“I love you, too. You’re going to be just fine,” 
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coffeebleeds · 2 years
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France: I swear to god my neighbor is constantly hammering shit into her walls. I can't imagine it's like a headboard hitting the wall because if so... sounds not so great for her. So it must be hammering.
Germany: Why would it be bad for her if it's the headboard?
France: The general speed and lack of mouth noises. Just a headboard hitting the wall silently just doesn't seem like anyone's having fun.
Germany: The speed thing I get, but don't let the lack of mouth noises fool you.
America: I love that apparently sex is judged based on mouth noises. Is that all mouth noises/ Does that include yodeling or excessive sneezing?
France: I suppose sneezing is a mouth noise, even if I've never thought about it.
Germany: I have never yodeled or been yodeled at during sex.
America: Clearly you guys are not having good sex.
Germany: I also don't make many mouth noises. I only forcefully exhale at key intervals so as to provide the necessary motivation and reassurance.
France: I still feel upset at the realization that sneezing is a mouth noise.
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omg-snakes · 3 years
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Hey! I can't remember if I asked this when it happened years ago, but I was fostering a ball python for a roommate while he was in the middle of moving out of his old place into the apartment I lived in, and the snake would climb all over me when I was handling him, but occasionally made these "huff" noises, like what a person would do if they were frustrated/irritated. They seemed like very intentional noises, not something like a cough or sneeze or other indicator of respiratory infection or distress. He did it a lot the one time I had him out for hangout time, but otherwise didn't do it much if at all. Do snakes do this for some particular reason, or was he just an oddball? I'm trying not to anthropomorphize his behavior but I genuinely can't think of any reason why he'd be "huffy" while exploring unless he was irritated or frustrated by trying to dig into soft material like my sweater or blankets. Any ideas?
Heyas!
That's almost assuredly a respiratory infection you were hearing. Snakes don't use passive breathing like we humans do, where our trachea is pretty much default open unless we've initiated a swallow or we're intentionally holding our breath. We breathe more or less quietly most of the time because we're constantly taking light breaths and our glottis is pretty much always open.
Snakes don't take as many breaths per minute as humans do. They use less oxygen to fuel their metabolism so they don't need to be constantly inhaling fresh air and exhaling waste gasses. A snake's glottis (the opening that leads to the trachea) is held closed unless the reptile is actively inhaling or exhaling. This is kinda similar to a whale or dolphin breaching to take a breath. If you're handling a snake you might be able to feel it or hear a little exhale/inhale, but it shouldn't be more audible than your own normal breathing. If you're hearing anything that sounds like an intentional huff or hiss, and the snake isn't in a defensive display and otherwise inviting you to heck off, then something is obstructing their breathing and causing them to breathe hard. That's generally either a very obese snake, a very weak snake that is exhausted from their efforts, or a snake with a respiratory issue of some sort.
I know it was a super long time ago and I'm not sure if you still even have contact with that person, but if they've still got the snake and he's still making that noise they may want to have it checked out by a vet.
Fun Fact: Snakes can also stretch their glottis all the way out of their mouths to allow them to breathe while eating. It's really gross but quite practical!
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Text
Better Now
A Bla/ck Tap/es podcast sickfic.
I have so many wonderful prompts in my inbox but the only thing I  wanted to write was this wildly self-indulgent and overly long fic that's jam-packed with all my favorite tropes. I blame @matilda3948 for her recent amazing Dr. Strand sickfics for inspiration and @sanquintina for getting me into the podcast in the first place
This is technically Bl/ack Ta/pes fanfic, but you don't need to know anything about the series other than Dr. Strand is a persnickety, serious, stoic, skeptic with a very deep voice and troubled past. 
Set after the end of the series as it stands currently and written in 1st person from the perspective of Strand's unnamed female partner. Could be Alex if you want, could be someone else with whom Strand finally found happiness and contentment. I kept that part generic on purpose.
Richard Strand is many things, but clumsy isn't one of them. So naturally I had to go investigate when early one morning I was startled by the sound of a tea mug shattering on the floor followed by a hastily bitten-off swear word.
In the kitchen I found my husband, the world renowned Dr. Strand, kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea. He glanced up with a sniffle as he heard me approach.
"Had it too close to the edge. At least it missed my pants. I think I got all the ceramic bits, but be careful."
His voice was even deeper than usual, low and gravelly from the cold he'd been developing over the past few days. That, paired with his heavy, reddened eyes and generally haggard appearance, gave me concern.
"You look like you hardly slept. How are you feeling?"
"I tossed and turned a bit last night. Couldn't get comfortable."
"Couldn't breathe I think would be more accurate. You were snoring and breathing through your mouth all night."
He sat back on his heels and frowned. "Sorry if I kept you up."
"You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you," I added as he winced when he stood, massaging the space between his eyebrows.
He shot me another irritated glance. "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a cold." I couldn't help but notice the weary slump of his shoulders, however. Even his suit looked less crisp than usual. 
I summoned all my wifely tact and tried to make my voice persuasive: "Maybe you should stay home. You don't look like you'll be much use to anyone today."
He made an annoyed sound. "That's very unnecessary. I'm not staying home for a cold."
I looked pointedly out the window where a chilly November rain was pouring down steadily. "You really want to go out into that when you have a perfectly valid excuse not to?"
He too glanced out the window. After a moment he shook his head and cleared his throat, meeting my eyes again. "I'll be fine. It's just a little rain."
He headed toward the door, massaging his forehead once more.
"Don't you want your tea?"
"Oh, right." He whirled around quickly, grabbed the thermos, and headed toward the door again with a wet sniffle. I could only roll my eyes and sigh as the door closed behind him.
Most workdays I left after him and returned before him, and this Thursday was no exception. The rain was still pouring down when I arrived home from work that evening. I decided dinner was going to be vegetable stew and biscuits, not only for his cold, but also because I wanted some rainy November comfort food. Everything was nearly ready when I heard him coming up the steps. He opened the door, bringing with him a chilly gust, and I turned to greet him, but instead my mouth dropped open a bit at the sight of him. 
His hair and clothes were completely soaked with rain, to the point of dripping puddles onto the floor as I watched, and he was visibly shivering, something I'd never seen him do before. Inexplicably, he was also shaking the loose drops off of his soaked umbrella, his expression drawn and miserable. I was noticing how diminished he seemed when suddenly his breath hitched violently:
"HehZIHH'shiew! HrrUUHHZchoo! HehhGIHH'nkkchoo!"
I rushed to his side, relieving him of his umbrella and briefcase and pulling his sodden coat off of him as he slumped down onto the nearby stool. Beneath the coat, his suit was nearly just as wet and cold.
"Oh, Richard, bless you! You're soaked to the skin. Ugh, and your hands are freezing. How did you manage to get so drenched?"
"A w-woman and her ch-children were w-waiting for the b-bus without c-coats. I held my umbrella f-for them until it c-came," he said, his teeth chattering and his lips blue with cold. 
I toweled off his hair and clothes as best as I could before helping him undress. Any other day he would have brushed me off, saying he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. The fact that he allowed me to assist him spoke volumes to how poorly he felt. 
I was behind him, trying to peel off his sodden linen shirt when he lurched forward for another volley of sneezes:
"HrrUUSCHH! HnnxXT! HHGGTchh!"
"Bless you again, poor love. You've made your cold worse going out in this," I gently chastised.
"I'm f-fine," he sniffled, still barely able to speak around his shivering. Yet he leaned back against me wearily as I removed his undershirt and replaced it with a blanket, and I thought I heard the softest hint of a groan.
I used my fingers to comb his disheveled hair, but frowned when I felt his forehead. "You're running a fever. You weren't feverish this morning."
He merely shrugged, wordlessly asking me to continue massaging his scalp, which I did. Slowly his shivers subsided, but he was clearly exhausted, and sniffled wetly every few moments. 
"You look like you could use a hot drink and a warm bed," I said eventually.
"I'd start with a hot shower," came the mumbled reply.
"Hmm… what about a hot bath? I was thinking of taking one myself tonight, and I'm willing to share. No reason to waste the hot water. Dinner will keep for a bit longer."
He turned slightly, giving me a curious look. It wasn't that we had never bathed together before, but it was usually under very different circumstances. However, I happened to know my husband craved physical touch when he wasn't feeling well, though he would never ask for it. I was simply making life easier on both of us by preemptively offering it. 
"I suppose that might be nice," he finally said. "But I'm very tired…."
I kissed his cheek. "No strings attached. Bath only. Then dinner and sleep. No funny business, I promise."
He relaxed slightly. "That's fine then."
"Good. Let me go run the water." I kissed his hair once more, then headed to the bathroom. He joined me there with a cup of tea after a few minutes. While the oversized tub finished filling, he leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distant and hazy, not to mention sick.
I shimmied off my clothes and slid into the water, gesturing for him to join me. He sluggishly obeyed, hampered in finishing his own undressing by his dripping nose. He set his mug of tea and a handkerchief on the little table beside the tub, then slid into the water in front of me.
His sigh of ecstasy as the hot water surrounded him was exactly what I hoped to hear, and he leaned back against me readily with a satisfied groan.
"Better?" I murmured in his ear.
"Much," came the rumbling reply, followed of course by a sniffle. 
I pressed my lips into his hair again and again. He hardly moved as the heat soaked into him. I let my nails trail all over his skin and gave him a gentle massage, trying to help him relax, a feat he was rarely able to accomplish on his own
"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I murmured after a while.
He gave the barest nod in reply. Wordlessly I did just that, something else he would never consider allowing in any other circumstance.
I kept the soap far from his face, but the fragrance still had its way with him. I had nearly all the suds rinsed out when he suddenly jerked forward and leaned over the edge of the tub.
GihhIIISSHH'UH! Hhigg'CHUH! HihYEHSH'ooo!" He directed the spray as far away from me as he could, grabbing for the handkerchief to catch as much of the mess as possible. He mopped his face with a growl as he slid back into the water, but the spell was broken. He fidgeted against me, sniffling in irritation again and again as I finished rinsing his hair. 
I suppressed a disappointed sigh. "You might feel better if you went and laid down now that you're warmed up. Get yourself a bowl of soup while I finish up here."
He grunted his assent, lifting himself out of the water and quickly toweling off as he began to shiver again right away. He donned his robe, took his tea, and went to get his supper.
The evening came to a quick close after that. Richard ate a small portion of soup, drank two mugs of tea, and refused any medication, but did little else. He wouldn't be described as loquacious on his best day, but he spoke even less than usual. The only noise he made was the occasional soft cough or explosive trio of sneezes and his perpetual sniffles as he attempted his usual evening reading. His eyes never lost their weary, hazy look though, and he was constantly shaking his head or wiping a knuckle under his nose, so I wondered how much he was actually absorbing.
When I suggested we go to bed, he didn't argue though, which was very unlike him. He fell into bed wearily, and it seemed he was asleep even before his head hit the pillow. I silently wished to myself as I drifted to sleep that he would either be recovered in the morning, or else have the sense to stay home if he was worse.
~~~~~~~~~~
Richard's alarm went off at the usual hour the next morning, and he shut it off right away. Normally he was out of bed in moments, but today he lingered, pulling the blankets closer around himself with a little groan.
I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but he continued to shift restlessly. After a moment, I heard him take a wheezy inhale and then break into a coughing fit, wet and hoarse. I turned to look at him again. He was on his back now, with an arm flung over his eyes.
"Aww, love," I murmured. "You ok?"
"I'm not feeling quite like myself," came the mumbled reply.
I reached out to stroke his cheek, letting my hand rest on his neck where I could feel his hugely swollen lymph nodes. He was well and truly sick now, and he needed to stay home from work. However, I couldn't be the one to suggest that, or else he would turn me down immediately and insist he was fine, as he had the day before. It needed to be his idea. I went with a different approach.
I nestled close to his side, kissing his shoulder softly. I could tell he was still feverish even through his clothes. "Busy day today?" I murmured.
He grunted wearily. I couldn't tell if it was affirmative or negative.
"I packed a big bowl of soup for your lunch. I hope it's enough to keep you full through the whole day. And don't forget, I'll meet you at your coworker's reception tonight. Was there anything I needed to bring to that?"
He slowly uncovered his face. "I was… actually considering staying home from work. It shouldn't be busy today, I can afford to miss. And… I'm really not feeling well at all. I'll make our excuses to John about his reception. 
I did a silent victory dance in my head. "Oh, are you sure? I thought you had some important meetings."
"Nothing that can't be rescheduled." He cracked a red eye open, glancing at me suspiciously. "Why? Do you want me to go in?"
I shrugged nonchalantly, kissing him again. "I want you to do what you think is best. If you're not feeling well, you ought to stay home so you don't risk getting other people sick though."
"I suppose." He coughed hoarsely again, rubbing his chest with a grimace. "Yes, I'll stay home today. Let me call Carol and John."
He slowly stood and made his unsteady way to his phone, sniffling and coughing the whole way. The two phone conversations were very brief, for he hardly had to try to make a case for his illness, congested and hoarse as he clearly was. After he finished the calls, he shuffled back to bed immediately, heaping the blankets back over himself with a shuddering cough. I rubbed his back as he got settled.
"Can I get you anything, hon? Water, medicine?"
He shook his head. "Going to try to sleep this off," he mumbled, sleep already (or still?) heavy in his voice.
I knew medicine would almost certainly help his endeavors at sleeping. At minimum it would improve the quality of his sleep. However, I also knew he was stubborn about such things, so I didn't press the issue yet. "Alright." I kissed his hot cheek gently. "Then I'll leave you be for now. Let me know if you need anything. Sleep well."
I made the bed around him, straightening my side and tucking him in, then quietly left. The sound of his deep snores followed me out. So much for me sleeping in today.
He emerged again later that morning. I didn't notice him at first when he did, though. I had my headphones in and was dancing around while dusting. Turning around, I almost bumped into him, scaring us both. I yanked my headphones off right away, taking in his disheveled, sickly, blanket-wrapped appearance.
"You're awake! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out."
"Clearly," he rasped with the tiniest ghost of a smile. "You stayed home too?"
"It's my normal Friday off."
"Right, right," he sniffled. He then shuffled to the couch, collapsing onto it with a yawn. I went to sit beside him, unable to keep the concern from my face. I felt his forehead again, noting how he wearily leaned into the touch. I was forced to jump back though as he erupted into a volley of thick, chesty coughs. 
I sighed, surveying him with worry. "You're running quite the fever, love. And the cold has obviously settled into your chest now too."
He nodded limply with another sniffle.
"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, I'm giving you medicine and you're going to take it."
He managed to fix me with a condescending look. "Medication for a cold is essentially pointless. It just treats the symptoms."
"You think making yourself more comfortable is pointless?"
He opened his mouth to answer, or so I thought, but instead he lurched forward into a trio of wet, spraying sneezes:
"Heh'YEISSHH'oo! YEEIISH'uuh! Gih'HIH-shoo! --ugh…" The forceful snapping motion of his head when he sneezed looked incredibly painful, so much so that he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead with a groan in the aftermath.
"Bless you, hon!" I waited a beat as he composed himself. "So… what was it again you were saying about the futility of treating the symptoms?" I asked, admittedly snidely.
He only grunted softly. I couldn't keep the smug look from my face when he met my eyes once more. However, seeing how thoroughly miserable he was reawakened my sympathy immediately. I reached out to caress his hair and cheek yet again.
"How about I make you some tea, yeah? And maybe a bowl of soup?"
"Please," he mumbled.
"Coming right up."
Another round of his thick, exhausting coughs followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, even though he couldn't see me.
In a matter of minutes I had his meal ready. When I brought it back out to him, I placed the soup on the table and dropped a handful of pills and a capful of medication beside the bowl with a meaningful look. His only reply was a small frown. I resumed my seat beside him and was about to hand him the steaming mug when an idea occurred to me.
"Is your throat hurting badly?"
He nodded heavily with a little scowl, as if he hated being reminded of it.
"Here, this may help a bit." I raised the mug to the level of his neck, pressing it against his visibly enlarged lymph node.
His eyes widened and he half-jumped back from the initial sensation. 
"Trust me for a sec," I said gently, placing it against the swelling once more.
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but allowed it. After a moment though he visibly loosened. Making a sound between a whimper and a groan, he leaned harder against the heat. 
"Better?"
"Mhmmmm," he sighed.
After another moment I switched to the other side of his neck and repeated the process. He angled himself here and there to get the most heat coverage over the tender areas. Finally I slid the mug into his hands, kissing his forehead.
"Thank you," he breathed. "That was… relieving."
"You're very welcome. Now, can I do anything else for you at the moment?" 
"I'm fine. You don't need to fuss."
"I may not have to, but I want to, first because you're my husband and second because I know you're not 'fine.' But if you're going to insist you are, I'm going to go fold some laundry. Holler if you need anything. Or cough loudly if that's easier."
That earned me a Dr. Strand signature, the 'amused huff.' "I will. Thank you again."
"No thanks necessary." He received another kiss to the temple before I stood and headed to the laundry room with a last pointed look at the medicine. It occurred to me as I walked away that I was likely giving him an overabundance of kisses considering how contagious he clearly was, but he was just so darn pitiful.
Twenty minutes later, I returned to check on him, bringing a glass of water as well. The tea mug and soup bowl sat empty on the coffee table, surrounded by a few scattered tissues. The medicine was untouched. The doctor was huddled to one side of the couch with another tissue held loosely in his hand and one pajama-clad leg tucked under him, staring listlessly at the wall. However, at the sound of my footsteps he stirred with a sickly sniffle, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. I smiled in greeting, and though he didn't return the smile, he did brighten a bit upon seeing me.
"What were you contemplating so deeply just now? You looked very lost in thought," I asked, handing him the water, then tidying up his little mess on the coffee table, leaving the pills.
He huffed a humorless laugh, looking self-conscious as he fiddled with the glass. "I was actually imagining how extensive the trial and error process must have been to determine how best to brew tea versus brewing coffee versus, for example, brewing beer. Roasting the ingredients versus drying versus fresh versus ground and boiling versus steeping versus fermenting. The amount of time that must have been necessary to perfect something so simple is rather astounding," he rasped, with many sniffles and throat-clearings thrown in.
I raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Aimless ramblings about random topics were not the norm for my painfully disciplined husband. "It is astounding I guess. I'd never thought about that before. Anyway, how are you feeling after eating?" 
"I'm fine," he said, finally setting down the untouched water, though the nasty cough that immediately followed his statement contradicted him.
This time I audibly sighed. "You do realize that you saying you're fine all the time is very counterproductive to helping me assess your needs? You don't have to be fine, love."
He gave me an odd look. "Conceptually, I know that. But you have to remember, for a long time I *did* have to be 'fine.' I didn't have the option to be otherwise. You, all of this… still feels like a new development or a dream at times. Old habits die hard, I suppose."
I sat on the arm of the couch beside him. He wordlessly leaned in toward me so I could lightly run my fingernails over his scalp. He softly groaned in pleasure.
"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you that I'm not going anywhere and I'm here for you, because you already know that. So I suppose I'll just have to keep showing you." 
I went to press a kiss to his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and changed my mind when I saw he was about to sneeze.
"Gihh'chuuh! Hehh'choof! Ghnxt'choo!"
The sneezes were brisk and wet and left him breathless. He blew his nose with a wince before he spoke. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed most of it," he said, sounding stuffy and a little peeved.
I chuckled and complied, going for the kiss this time. He had no reply, but instead leaned against me wearily as I massaged his neck, yawning deeply. 
"You should rest again, love. Take a nap if you can. It's either that or watch TV, which you'll never do. I'm not sure you should attempt much else."
He wrinkled his nose. "I hate being so unproductive. I don't want to sleep the day away."
"Sleeping when you're sick isn't being unproductive, it's being wise."
"HehhGIH'choo! HEHHH-choo! Hihhh'YESSHH'uuhh!"
I was quite sure he didn't hear most of my statement, since he sneezed right in the middle of it. With a pitiful sound he tended to his nose yet again as I blessed him earnestly. Eventually his watery, heavy lidded eyes met mine. I couldn't help but notice yet again how flushed and disheveled he was and how utterly pathetic he looked, quite the opposite of his usual cool, collected self. 
"Guh. Sorry. What was that?" he asked with a pathetic sniffle, sounding very annoyed now.
"Aww, your nose. You really are sick, huh? Poor guy," I said, continuing to stroke his hair. 
He looked slightly offended. "You were having doubts about that?" 
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "It's just something you say, dear. 
"I'm aware of the colloquialism," he grumped. "But I find it a very odd one. And it's never been directed at me before."
"There's a first time for everything, then."
I was rubbing his back now. He yawned again, grimacing after, I assumed due to the sore throat. I also noticed he was starting to shiver.
"Ok, now seriously, tell me what I need to do to convince you to nap."
"I'm not sure," he said with a chesty cough, nestling deeper into the couch.
"Hmm. I accept that challenge." 
"And what challenge is that?"
"You won't tell me what I can do to help you, and perhaps you don't even know yourself, so I have to figure that out for both of us."
"I don't think there's anything I need though."
"You need to sleep."
He rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, but I could tell he knew I was right.
I stood and went to put some smooth jazz on the record player in the room. Sitting down again, this time on the couch on the other side of him, I gestured to my lap.
"Come lie down."
"Wait-- lie down… right there?"
"Correct."
"Why?"
"Because you love hair scratches and neck rubs, so I'm making it easier to give them to you. Also you're apparently freezing and need to share some body heat."
He frowned, suppressing his shivers as best he could. Still, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long, tired and miserable as he was. Sure enough, after a moment he slowly levered himself down with a resigned sigh. 
I quickly threw a blanket over him, and then began the hair scratches. He made a tiny, appreciative sound. 
"Better?"
"Mm," he grunted.
"Good. But you're sweating, love," I murmured.
"I'm not sure how since I'm freezing," he mumbled with a cough.
"Your fever is higher. I can feel it just by touching you."
He groaned, snuggling deeper against me.
I massaged his neck for a while longer, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. He continued to be restless though, and apparently unable to regulate his body temperature. One moment he would be shaking with chills pulling the blanket closer, and then the next kicking it away from his legs with a moan of discomfort. 
The final straw for me was when he was overcome with yet another hacking coughing fit, curling in on himself miserably, trying to muffle it into his arm, the other hand clutching his chest.
Before he settled again, I leaned forward to grab the untouched pile of medication and glass of water from the coffee table. When he was again lying against me, I wordlessly held it out to him. He of course made a sound of irritation.
"Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep, and you can't sleep in the state you're in, at least not well. This will help your headache, fever, sore throat, everything so you can rest. I can tell you're exhausted."
After a final moment of consideration, he held out a reluctant hand. I handed him the items and he swallowed them without comment.
Neither of us spoke again for a long time, and didn't move from our places. I soothingly stroked his hair or rubbed his back, putting myself in a trance almost as much as him. 
I could see the medication talking effect. His restlessness slowly eased along with his coughing. It seemed I could even feel his body temperature decreasing.
"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"
Just as I thought he was asleep, his body twitched with a trio of sneezes, the quality of which could only be described as lazy--slow, thick, and dulled. They hardly seemed to stir him from his stupor.
"Bless you. Are you ok?"
" 'm fine," he croaked tiredly. We were both quiet for a while, then he spoke up again. "You know, one of the reasons I keep saying I'm fine is because I can't begin to describe what an improvement it is to be with you while being sick compared to being sick in bed alone. The difference is as drastic as night and day--better doesn't begin to describe it. Asking for anything more than what I already have just by your being here feels selfish."
Richard would never express such sentiments under normal circumstances, and hearing it said so plainly overwhelmed me with emotion. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me to reply in kind. He would prefer to state his piece and let it be. And indeed, I saw his eyes drooping heavier by the second, so I kept my thoughts to myself for now, but leaned over to plant a series of kisses all over his hot face. 
He hardly moved and didn't respond even when I finally stopped, but I couldn't help but notice the tiny smile playing around his lips as he drifted off to sleep.
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a smol list of scratch/grounder hcs for the soul ✨
(don’t worry i’ll get back to drawing resident evil stuff lol)
scratch has this weird dysfunction in his right eye where it constantly twitches when he’s staring at something for a long period of time
which is very often since he spaces out a l o t
him and grounder both have adhd and believe it or not have the same stims/favorite stim toys
they both have the flappy hands but also they bite the insides of their mouths (which i know is weird considering they’re robots but this is sonic the hedgehog we’re talking about lmfao)
when grounder gets super angry he will make very loud incoherent noises and yell random words that he jumbles together to try and make a sentence
usually never works out and people never understand him so they just back away slowly and hope he doesn’t chase them lol
when grounder sneezes his nose pops off
grounder prefers colder temperatures while scratch prefers his surroundings rather warm
if grounder was human he would have a dysfunction in his legs which makes him unable to walk or run, so he needs a wheelchair
they both chug energy drinks like they’ll never see the light of day again
scratch is 6’4 and grounder is 4’11, he’s,,,,very small
if grounder was human he’d be chubby and a bit baby faced while scratch would be stik
they both smell,,,, s o bad,,,,but you gotta love them still
scratch teaches little kids to say fuck
grounder can produce bubbles for some fucked reason, sometimes when he’s giggling bubbles will accidentally come out his mouth
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ALSO LOOK AT THIS PIC OF GROUNDER STIMMING OH MY GOD
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Vibes Dream SMP members give off (in my opinion)
Dream
Barked at people in high school ironically but it became unironic real quick
Can’t cook very well but is good with a knife, especially at a fast pace
One of those kids who either purposely spells the first word wrong in a spelling bee to just be done with it right away or tries the hardest and manages to win (there is no inbetween for this heathen)
Bites ice cream with his teeth
Has snorted pixie stix far too many times and sneezed blue after each time
Eats bananas with the peels
Wears mismatched socks
Has taken a bite out of a pool noodle because he liked the texture and impulsively bit it (ADHD things✨😌)
Walks around looking extremely high but he’s just spacin out and stuck in his head
Dreams (lmao) in Minecraft and video games in general
Will flirt with anything that moves but has no idea how to respond to compliments
Makes fun of himself first before anyone else can
Has eaten an orange peel and it wasn’t that bad in his humble opinion
Wears khaki shorts
Eats the wax part of the baby bell cheese
Doesn’t actually know what genre his music taste is cause he vibes to everything
Georgenotfound
Picks at the skin on his lip when it’s dry so it bleeds and he tries not to give in by licking his lips often enough to the point where it became a habit
Wears velcro shoes because he doesn’t feel like tying them (he knows how, he just doesn’t wanna do it)
Eats peanut butter straight from the jar
Makes that disgusting “ants on a log” thing (celery stick filled with peanut butter topped with a row of raisins)
Can’t drink milk plain, it’s gotta have some sort of flavour
Can draw a perfect straight line but his circles look Terrible
Eats cheez-its like cereal without milk
Loves making little noises so much like he walks around his house doin chores and he’s just goin “memememenownownwnkwkshskshkshskhs”
Hates wearing socks
Coloured his tongue with highlighters because they’re non-toxic
Constantly tapping his feet and hands to a song/beat playing in his head
I can’t imagine this man using a bike of any sort, so Imma say he doesn’t know how
Can’t be licked by dogs because he’s used to being licked by his cat so it makes him uncomfortable
Can actually sing pretty well but gets real nervous in front of people so he fucks it up
Sapnap
No idea how to cook anything other than Mac and cheese please help this man
Meows at cats because he wants to confuse them and laughs Way too hard when he does (his laugh is like sunshine so I’ll allow it)
Would be fantastic at braiding hair Idk why
Gives the BEST fuckin hugs EVER
When singing, he makes noises for the instrumental parts too
Wanted to play the drums at one point
Really likes pit bulls but he’s more of a cat person so he loves them from afar
Only vaguely knows how to shave his face properly without hurting himself
Opportunities for him come up out of pure luck but mans is skilled for them so it works out well almost Always
Used to or currently has a skateboard and isn’t too bad
ALWAYS has bruises appearing everywhere for no reason, he doesn’t even know where 90% of them are from
Calls his friends twinks to jokingly bully them and gets away with it because he himself is not a twink
Gets sudden bursts of energy in the middle of the night and just shimmies around a bit to try and deal with it
Favours spearmint over peppermint
Arsonist
Banned from three (3) Dave & Busters in Texas
Badboyhalo
Washes his hands after doing literally anything
Likes the bird exhibits at the zoo (specifically the penguins)
Very good at cooking, best at soups and stews
If he painted his nails they would definitely be a baby blue
Overthinks very simple things and it makes him look less smart than he actually is
Drinks tap water
Probably prefers whiskey over beer
Knows how to tap dance a bit
Surprisingly good at taking and handling shots
Steady hands
Adds extra chocolate to hot chocolate
Plays sudoku and is really really good at it (only uses pen when he plays)
Everytime he sees a Himalayan salt lamp he NEEDS to lick it despite knowing it’s very salty and he’ll pull a face afterwards
Not great at Rock Paper Scissors
Wears sunglasses inside for no reason at all, he just,,,Does
Still has a stuffed animal from childhood perched on his bed
Probably tried his hand at archery
Tommyinnit
He has no idea how to use a baby voice on children or animals, so he just talks to them normally
Wears socks to bed
His fingers are double jointed
Always starts twitching if he stays still for too long because he’s gotta move around
His shoes and have different laces and it bothers everyone but himself
Doodles on himself in class when he’s bored or not paying attention
Has really good hearing, both with pitch and volume
Can’t eat tomato’s by themselves, it’s either gotta be in sauce form or with something else
FUCKING LOVES STRING CHEESE
Terrible handwriting
Favourite part of a slice of bread is the crust
Wants to paint his nails black to be cool and edgy but his hands are far from steady and he has no clue how to paint nails
Pretty affectionate with close friends (like Tubbo and Wilbur) off stream/camera
He likes pears for some reason
Wilbur Soot
Is constantly having to decide between leaving his hair as is or shaving all of it off
He also thinks about adding some colour but never actually does
Most tea is gross to him
Everytime he puts a breath mint thats circular in his mouth, he pretends it’s a pill and he’s taking drugs because he thinks that’s funny
He does that vacant state as a joke but that really what he looks like when he’s spacing out
Likes to aggressively flirt with his male friends but if his female friends flirt with him, he gets a bit flustered
Has probably accidentally swallowed a guitar pick
Once drank two entire jars of pickle juice
Bonks his head on anything and everything
He has broken a pair of glasses by walking face first into a pole outside
Thinks kinetic sand is fun
Has passionate arguments with others about trivial and random topics like chicken feet
Can open a beer bottle with his teeth
Would accidentally pop and swallow a bracket if he had braces
Tubbo
Hates sharp cheddar cheese
Everytime he learns a new word it’s in every sentence he says for the next week or so
Ate candle wax for a dare once
Doesn’t know how to tie a tie and will probably never learn
Wanted to do ballet at one point but decided not to
He has eaten multiple flowers for absolutely no reason other than wanting to know how they taste
Starts vibrating if he’s too excited
Used to bite his nails
ABSOLUTELY DESPISES MUSTARD
Has eaten paper and says it doesn’t taste that bad
Enjoys telling his friends how much they mean to him (this has resulted in Tommy and Wilbur crying on a few seperate occasions)
Spaces out a lot and doesn’t often pay attention to his surroundings
Gets lost inside of Best Buy’s
Likes s’mores but doesn’t properly understand how to make them
Technoblade
Learned to cook purely out of spite and found it’s actually pretty fun
Constantly getting smacked in the face by trees when walking outside
Really likes apple pie
Everytime he looks at potatoes he thinks of all the hours he spent trying to win the potato war
Starts things as a joke and gets too into it
Doesn’t like the taste of most energy drinks
Has rubbed salt and lemon juice into an open wound to just,,see how it felt (he did it once and Hated it but did it again because he forgot what it felt like)
Sometimes hates how quiet he is because everyone he knows is loud and talks over him
Despite how he is portrayed in the Dream SMP, he is extremely loyal to his friends and would kill for them
Over seasons his food because he can’t taste it otherwise
Really good balance
Doesn’t like to wear bright colours, but still enjoys wearing colours
Good at knitting
Quackity
Actually fairly quiet when off camera
Will accidentally use Spanish grammar while speaking English sometimes
Country music confuses him
Doesn’t really like kids but they really like him
Can’t dance
Hardest drugs he’s ever done is second hand smoke from a cigarette and children’s Tylenol
His favourite jolly ranchers are the red and blue ones
He uses lighters as fidget toys basically
Will have a breakdown, take a bubble bath, and call himself the self care king
Dehydrated
Wants a pet rat but he already has a cat and doesn’t wanna risk anything
Constantly questions why his main source of income is playing Minecraft with two 16 year olds
Karl Jacobs
Probably ate a spider once
Would wear those socks that are like gloves for you feet where it separates all the toes
Eats ravioli straight from the can, cold
Can answer an incredibly complex math equation fairly easily but will stumble over 12x11
Loves kids so much and speaks to them in a soft voice
Tried making ramen in a coffee pot and broke it
Drinks 2 monster energy drinks a day on average
Likes to open walnuts with his teeth but doesn’t actually eat them
The embodiment of that one John Maulany joke where he says you could spill soup in his lap and HE’D apologize to YOU
Loves physical affection so so much!!!!
If he moves his wrists in a certain way, they pop Really Loudly
Fantastic at making cookies
Fundy
Lowkey actually a furry but more on like, a cat boy level than fursuit level
Drives a Honda Civic
Likes ABBA
Adds parsley to almost anything he makes food-wise
Loves garlic bread so much, he’d commit a federal crime for it
Middle child vibes
Decent at skiing
Good at singing but isn’t terribly confident
Seems responsible at first glance but in reality he’s pretty chaotic and childish
Bad at spelling
Always cuts his nails way too short so they always feel weird/hurt
Likes bracelets and rings
Thinks pastel colours slap
JSchlatt
Despite the character he plays, he’s actually really sweet
He’s genuinely that cryptic off camera as he is on camera
Can cook but chooses not to most of the time
Would probably say “what pussy size you wear” to anyone who asks him to buy pads
Not actually as intimidating as he appears to be
Lowkey would fight a child
Shuts down when someone compliments him, often using aggression as a front because holy shit they just called him handsome and kind what the Fuck-
Jokingly says his license is suspended but in all actuality he never got his license in the first place
He has two (2) extra teeth but they don’t need to be removed so he kept them
Has a stick n poke of a stickman on his ankle he got in high school
Likes physics
This is already very long, and I still plan on adding more.
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saiki-in-jsl · 4 years
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Selective Mute Saiki Fic (8k)
TW: Forced vomiting, it’s not very detailed(?) I’ll mark it down in bold when it comes so you can skip.
Saiki discovers he has selective mutism and eventually overcomes it with his mom and psychic friends (including Akechi). The time setting for this fic is ambiguous.
Now on ao3!
Also, I’m no expert on this disorder, but I’ve done my fair share of research. This is not 100% accurate, so bear with me.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to speak. He’s fully capable of knowing how to do it, and he knows he can open his mouth to talk.
But he just...can’t.
He knows how to formulate words in his head, and he knows how to say them out loud, but whenever he tries he just stops. Like some unknown force was preventing the words from coming out of his mouth.
It doesn’t bother him at first, after all, he has telepathy and hypnosis to get people thinking he can speak. But the frustration of not being able to open his mouth was starting to get to him.
He can do practically anything, anything at all, yet he can’t get his stupid mouth and vocal chords to work.
The problem resurfaced during an outing with his friends, and somehow they had reached a discussion about satisfied sounds. Sounds like “Ahhhh” when you soak into a nice bath or “Mmmm” after a long day at work.
Teruhashi, unsurprisingly enough, managed to point out how Saiki never seemed to make such noises, even when he was enjoying a nice cup of coffee jelly. 
Of course he wouldn’t make those noises through telepathy, there wasn’t a point to them.
He let the conversation slide, not making the effort to deny or agree to any of their points, but the more they talked, the more he realized they were right.
Which was what brought back his frustration issue on not being able to speak.
It was stupid and petty, but not being able to go “Hmmm” in satisfaction as he devour a slice of cake was annoying him. Is he truly enjoying the pastry if all he does is eat it with a small smile?
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Saiki stares at the ground, mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, opening and closing. At this point, even a grunt will make him overjoyed.
An hour passes and he still couldn’t do it. He wonders if he’s going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should see a doctor. But if he does that and someone he knows spots him, what would he even say?
Knowing his friends, if he tried to fake a common illness, they’ll insist on coming over to his home to care for him. Thanks, but no thanks.
Could he ask his bro-- Out of the question, no way, at best he will be a last resort.
After a few more minutes of thinking, Saiki comes to the conclusion that perhaps if he stopped using his telepathy to converse and forced himself to vocally speak, it’ll naturally flow out. If he reaches a point where he has to speak, then it’ll surely come out.
Not the smartest plan, but it has got to work. Otherwise, brother it is…
The moment he woke up, Saiki immediately puts on the telepathy cancelling ring. He knows that since it prevents him from hearing other people’s thoughts, surely it will also prevent him from communicating in telepathy too.
He tests his theory out by heading down for breakfast, greeting his mother good morning as per usual. A moment passes and he’s still standing there, staring right into the back of her head. She hasn’t responded yet.
He tries again.
No answer.
So his theory checks out.
She only notices that he’s there when he pulls up his chair to have breakfast, and she smiles, “Good morning, Kuu!~”
He nods back, using his telepathy one last time just to double check.
An uncomfortable silence stretches over, and his mother starts to worry. 
“Are you okay?”
Just say yes. It’s literally the easiest word aside from ‘no’, Saiki stares at her for a long time. He finally gives up and raises his hand, pointing at the ring. His mother blinks in surprise, then smiles in understanding.
“But why?” She asks, turning her head back to the stove. “You’re not even at school yet.”
Ah, she’s right. Maybe he could take it off for now-- No, he started this, and he’s going to make sure he sees it through till the end. He has to remember he’s doing this so he can fully enjoy coffee jelly to its fullest extent!
Which reminds him, he has to eat breakfast before his dad begs him to take him to work with teleportation.
He takes a bite, feeling himself grow soft from the mere taste of the treat. He really couldn’t go wrong with coffee jelly. Though the longer he eats, the more he becomes aware that he isn’t sighing at the wonderful taste, which causes him to feel a bit upset.
Quickly finishing his breakfast, he wants to say goodbye to his mother, and he tries to form the words. Nothing comes out. 
He can feel his dad waking up from the room upstairs.
This is fine, he knows he can’t magically gain the ability to speak after years of not uttering a single word, so this will definitely take time.
He leaves without saying anything, and it only pushes him to try harder. 
His walk to school is filled with him making noises through his nose on accident. Once or twice he thought he had achieved his goal, only to realize all he did was make a puff of air.
Thank the heavens he isn’t normally a talkative person, otherwise, people in school would’ve questioned why he suddenly went quiet. His school day is filled with chatter and more chatter, and the fact that he can’t respond makes him feel on edge.
“Saiki, can you answer this question?”
Shit. He had forgotten to include this in his plan, now he either has two options; give up and take the ring off to not look suspicious -something he refuses to do-, or make up an excuse why he can’t answer.
The latter requires him to speak though, so that was an issue, nor can he just walk out of it, because now everyone is staring at him and the teacher’s growing inpatient. 
He opens his mouth, trying his might to say something. Even an “I don’t know” would suffice.
“Saiki?”
Oh his reputation is on the line now, huh? He can’t even tell what number he is on the popularity rank.
“You know what, just sit down, I’ll pick someone else.”
Oh thank god.
“What was that? Why didn’t you answer?” Kaidou walks over during their ten minute break. “That question was pretty easy, even Nendou could’ve solved it.”
Saiki had anticipated this mission to be hard, but he hadn’t expected it to be this difficult in reality. How is he even suppose to reply to that simple question? A shrug?
“Solve what?” Nendou leans over, hearing someone call his name. 
“The question Saiki was told to solve.” Kaidou answers, gesturing to the board.
“Oh. Yeah, pal. Did you get stage fright or something?” Nendou snorts, barely registering the question on the board.
“Saiki can’t have stage fright, he answered questions in front of the class before,” Kaidou protests. They continue bickering about the matter, forgetting about their pink-haired friend.
Looks like the conversation will run smoothly without his input. For now he’ll continue trying to articulate words in his mouth.
P.E rolls in and he finally takes a short break in trying to speak. People will be too out of breath to talk to him, so his silence will seem normal. 
“Actually, remember that conversation we had about Saiki not being able to sigh in satisfaction? I don’t think we’ve heard him hiss in pain before either,” Kaidou points, staring off at Saiki in thought. Hairo nods, realizing that too.
“Maybe his endurance is really strong,” Hairo replies.
Saiki wonders if the world is truly against him, or if the world is forcing him to speak as well. His friends are definitely going to try pinching him to see his reaction.
Wait, don’t tell me they’re going to attack me and pretend it’s just regular P.E roughhousing. Saiki watches in horror as Hairo comes up to him, swinging his arm back to give him a hard slap on the back. Saiki hasn’t even done anything to be congratulated for, this was poorly timed!
A quick side step and the disaster was avoided, sending Hairo tumbling forward in surprise from missing.
Although it may have seemed that inflicting pain onto Saiki would’ve worked and forced him to yell in reaction, his body would have handled it just fine since it is practically impenetrable. At most it would’ve felt like a gentle pat.
He just couldn’t risk having Hairo stare at him in confusion and ask why he didn’t react, knowing fully well that slap should’ve hurt.
The rest of the period continued like this, with his friends constantly trying to shove and kick at him, and each attempt was skillfully avoided.
P.E ends and Saiki has yet to vocalize something. Once or twice his friends’ attempt at trying to hit him actually caught him by surprise, but not once did he scream or gasp in shock. Usually this wouldn’t bother him, but due to his recent endeavor, it only frustrates him more.
Changing back into his school uniform, Saiki storms down the hall and heads over to his favorite window spot to take a step back and clear his head. He had already been in situations where he was forced to talk, and there were instances where he could’ve said something but didn’t, so clearly he wasn’t doing something right.
He continues staring into the distance, trying to come up with a better plan. Maybe there really is something wrong with his throat, but then again he knows there isn’t. Call it a gut feeling, or a hunch. 
Because whenever he does try to speak, he can feel his vocal chords warming up to voice the words, but it will always stop abruptly and disappear. Much like a sneeze that never comes, it’s painfully annoying.
Unconsciously, his hand began to trail up to his mouth, tracing over his lips before opening them. He tries to think of something to say, though he knows nothing will come out, even if he tries. 
TW: Saiki unconsciously tries to force himself to choke so he’ll produce some sort of sound, hoping it’ll be enough, but ends up puking.
His index finger pushes into his mouth.
What if I just...?
Lost in thought and despair, he continues pushing his finger further and further inside until...
Suddenly he’s coughing over the window, and he can feel his lunch coming up his throat. Students who were just passing by stopped in concern, turning their heads over to him to check if he’s okay.
At least he got what he wanted, somewhat, he can hear his voice perfectly from the coughing. It wasn’t any different from the voice he speaks in his head, but it was his voice. 
Then he threw up.
TW over
A chorus of screams and disgusted groans resounds around him and it’s only then does he notice that he’s being surrounded by people who were worried for him. He feels a bit claustrophobic, so he makes the attempt to push through the crowd. Luckily, no one wants to be touched by a person who recently puked, so he manages to leave with ease.
A perfectly manicured and well decorated hand stops him from properly escaping, so he turns to see the culprit he expected. Aiura frowns at him and he wishes he could read her mind to know what’s going on.
“You need to go to the nurse,” Aiura says, showing no signs of ulterior motives. “You literally just puked over the window for no reason, you’re clearly not okay.”
He doesn’t need the nurse since he had already restored his body to before he had puked. But he can’t tell her that or to leave him, so he shrugs her hand off and keeps walking. She scoffs in offense, stopping him once more, this time by standing right in front of him with her arms spread wide.
“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just figure it out myself,” Aiura threatens. His brows furrow in annoyance and he considers just teleporting away, but he knows she wasn’t joking about finding out the problem herself. The fact that if she does find out herself, he will have no way of stopping her from finding exactly how much, and that’s enough to scare him.
He nods and heads back to class, deciding that he’ll just write his problem down for her instead of using telepathy, because he’s that determine to keep on with his mission. 
She reads over what he wrote for her and raises an eyebrow at him, folding the paper, “I didn’t know you had selective mutism.”
He squints at her and she raises both her eyebrows in surprise.
“You don’t know what selective mutism is? That’s surprising. I thought you were a genius or something.
He responds to that with a frown.
She laughs, waving her hand dismissively to show that she was just teasing, then she folds her arms and thinks for a moment, “I don’t entirely know the cause of selective mutism, I just know it’s what you described to me just now. Honestly, it’s weird how you can still communicate telepathically yet you can’t speak normally.”
That’s why I’m trying to force myself to speak, Saiki thinks to himself, still frowning.
“How about I try to find the source of the issue for ya? It’ll be a lot easier for you I think,” Aiura offers, continuing to fold the piece of paper he gave her. “No strings attached. As much as I find this hilarious, it’s pretty sad.” 
The frown disappears and he blinks in surprise. That would actually help a lot, and it seems like she hasn’t made a connection to this issue and the puking problem he had earlier, which is a relief.
She takes the look of surprise as a yes and she begins to tear the paper she folded into pieces, scattering them about on Saiki’s table by blowing them off her hand. She stares at the pieces intensely while Saiki watches the whole thing with a look of...well, this part barely amazes him, so all he does is watch, really.
“I see,” Aiura nods in understanding. “Looks like the issue started when you were a kid.”
I know that yes.
“Around the time you started school.”
Obviously. Keep going.
“And it has something to do with your powers.”
Good grief, just get to the point.
“Specifically your telepathy.”
My...telepathy? Saiki adjusts the ring around his finger. Looks like I got that down right.
“That’s all it really says. The cause started in your first year of school and telepathy is somehow linked to it.” Aiura stares at the shredded pieces of paper some more. “Y’know, I expected more, considering how large your aura is. Maybe it’ll help if you read into selective mutism more, or ask your parents if they know anything.”
The chances of his parents being of use to this situation is a close 0, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Though, this selective mutism thing might be a good lead too.
He wants to say thanks, but the words are stuck and he can’t force them out like a cough.
He struggles for a moment, staring into Aiura’s eyes.
She turns a bit red from the intensity, not what he was going for, but he’ll take it. She looks away, smiling, “Jeez, you’re welcome. Stop hurting yourself.”
But he can’t get hurt.
After discovering a lead to his problem, he stops forcing himself to speak in school and remains silent for the rest of the day. He still interacts with people -or rather, he still listens and politely nods when needed to- but there were times where he would internally panic from the sudden quietness around him before realizing it was because of his telepathy cancelling ring.
If he closed his eyes, he could pretend the silence around him was caused by total isolation. 
The bell rings, signalling school dismissal, and he gathers his things to leave. He wants to get home immediately to search up ‘selective mutism’ so he can finally get to the bottom of his situation, but he’s sure his friends will somehow stop him and ask to hang out.
It’s either because his friends are really good at convincing him to join or he’s too weak to say ‘no’ that he knows he cannot decline them so easily. In fact, as of this moment, somehow he’s being dragged along by Kaidou and Nendou for ramen again without him even noticing.
“You’re quieter than usual today,” Kuboyasu says, falling into step next to Saiki.
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Kaidou adds, looking over at the two. “You barely spoke today, probably not at all!”
“That’s why we’re getting ramen! We figured you were upset today, so we thought that might cheer you up,” Nendou grins, shooting his friend a thumbs up and a wink.
We always get ramen though, so what exactly is the difference? Saiki deadpans in his head.
“Huh, I expected him to seem more excited,” Nendou frowns, rather disappointed.
“Stupid, we’re always getting ramen, of course he wouldn’t react,” Kaidou scolds, rolling his eyes. “We should do something better! Something more exciting.”
Please, let me go home, Saiki sighs within his head watching as the three began to think of a good idea to cheer their friend up. They weren’t wrong about him being upset though, he was feeling bitter in the morning, but after a talk with Aiura, he felt better.
“How about the convenience store? We can eat something there and browse their manga,” Kuboyasu suggests. Not the coolest idea, but it’s mundane, something Saiki prefers, and it surprises Saiki how thoughtful it was.
“Just so you know, I still think ramen is better,” Nendou comments, but Kaidou immediately jumped onto Kuboyasu’s idea, nodding his head in agreement.
Good grief, it seems like Saiki won’t be home any time soon.
Saiki is not having fun.
He’s itching to go home right now, but due to good morals, he can’t just leave them. Not when they’re doing this for him. He distracts himself with sweets and manga, though he soon grows impatient the longer he waits for this outing to wrap up.
Judging by his friends’ interactions, however, it seems like they didn’t even need Saiki here, which makes him wonder what the point of this outing was anyway. Looks they won’t notice if he leaves.
“So are you going to tell us why you’re so quiet today?”
He stands corrected. Saiki looks up from the manga he was browsing and barely reacts to Kuboyasu's question.
“Is this some sort of silent treatment? What did we do?” Kuboyasu presses on, possibly on the verge of losing his temper yet again.
Saiki wishes he could tell him the truth, but instead, he continues staring at him before blinking extremely slowly.
“WHAT’S WITH THAT ATTITUDE, WE’RE TRYING TO BE NIC--” Before Kuboyasu could lunge himself onto Saiki, Kaidou holds him down, laughing nervously.
“We’re just concerned for you,” the blue-haired boy says as Kuboyasu growls from his restraint. “We heard you threw up over the window and just walked off.”
Rumors do spread fast huh, Saiki thinks.
“I told you the ramen idea was better, I bet he’s hungry,” Nendou gestures angrily.
“He already ate something here, and we’re here so he can have fun,” Kaidou argues back, then he pauses and glances back at Saiki. “Are...you having fun?”
Well that’s easy, all he has to do it nod--
“Don’t you think it’s better to ask what’s up?” Kuboyasu huffs, eyeing Saiki suspiciously.
Good grief. Should he just give up and take the ring off? He already has a lead, so there isn’t a point in keeping it on. But then again, he did promise himself that he’ll see this mission through, so giving up still isn’t an option.
Saiki opens his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he exhales air out. Through his nose.
“Did you lose your voice?” Nendou laughs, pointing at Saiki teasingly. 
He could go with that, sure. Saiki immediately nods and Nendou blinks in surprise, not expecting to be actually right. Kaidou sighs in relief, running a hand through his hair, “Oh, that explains a lot. Sorry for making you stay then, we can go home if you want.”
Saiki nods again. Finally, he can search up ‘selective mutism’ and fix his issue. The next time they see him, he’ll definitely be speaking through his mouth.
“Selective mutism is a severe anxiety disorder.”
Saiki pauses, hand resting on the cursor as he thought about it. He doesn’t have anxiety. Does he? He keeps reading and so far most of the things listed down to describe the disorder checks out with him;
“It’s not that they don’t want to talk, they literally can’t” Yep, that’s what’s happening to him.
“Expectation to speak triggers a freeze response, causing them to panic” He doesn’t necessarily panic or freeze up, he just switches to telepathy when he wants to speak. Maybe it’s a substitute sort of defense mechanism?
“Will avoid situations where they do have to speak.” That’s...pretty spot on. It isn’t a secret that Saiki adores peace and isolated environments.
“Able to speak freely with people they trust.” This one stumps him, because he hasn’t met anyone he trusts enough to speak to. Not even his parents. Still, a majority of the things listed describes his problem, so this is definitely it.
He continues scrolling until he reaches the part where it talks about the causes. He leans in closer to the screen, slowly down his speed as he reads them carefully. He skips the first suggested cause, since it was regarding being too distressed to speak, and he knows for sure that’s not it.
The second one looked more promising. ‘Sensory integration dysfunction’, it makes the person shut down when they’re in an overwhelmingly busy environment, like loud noises and busy crowds. He vaguely remembers feeling like that once, maybe back in grade school and a bit before Kusuke gifted him his limiters.
Back when...oh. That’s what Aiura meant by telepathy, aside from the fact that he uses it to talk.
When he was younger, Saiki had gone through many instances where he could not handle the amount of thoughts passing into his brain. It was endurable at first, when it was only just him and his family, but the moment he had set foot onto school grounds, his head had exploded.
He could barely hear himself over the loud voices from the other children, but to also hear their thoughts too? Even when the other kids weren’t speaking, Saiki could hear what they were thinking loud and clear, which basically discouraged him from speaking out loud. 
He hadn’t realized this of course, because immediately after discovering the situation he was in, he came up with a solution; he used telepathy to communicate with instead. By using telepathy, his own words would seem the loudest among the rest, unlike his own voice, so he gradually fell into the habit of just using telepathy to talk.
But if that was the case, why wasn’t he able to speak when he managed to block out telepathic thoughts? He should probably look for professional help.
“Oh, Kuu, you still have that ring on?” His mother asks, sitting down to have dinner with the family.
“What ring? Why do you have a ring? Did you finally--” His father wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making Saiki frown in irritation.
“Darling, it cancels his telepathy, so he can’t hear our thoughts and he can’t talk to us.”
“Why would he do that?”
I am literally right here. Saiki stares at the two as they converse about him. He digs through his pocket and brings out his phone, showing them the website he had researched ‘selective mutism’ on.
It takes a while for them to understand him as he holds it up for them a while longer. His father squints at it in confusion, then he connects the dots when he shifts his eyes towards Saiki.
He laughs, waving his chopsticks, “You can’t have selective mutism, you can talk just fine!”
Saiki contemplates ruining his father’s dinner. 
His mother shoots her son a sympathetic look, cupping her own cheek, “Well, it does explain why you never use your mouth to speak. Are you trying to relearn how to speak with your mouth? Is that why you put on that ring, to force yourself to speak vocally? But it didn’t seem to work so you tried finding the source of the issue instead and found this disorder that perfectly explains your problem?”
Saiki nods. This is the reason why he prefers his mother much more than his father. Maybe he should take the ring off, it’s being more of a pain than a help to him, and it’ll be easier to converse if he does. Before he does though, his mother speaks again, this time her voice was serious and he can tell she’s being serious.
“Do you need Kusuke to help?”
He wanted to save that as a last resort, and secretly, he was hoping he wouldn’t actually resort to it. But it was either him or an actual doctor, and Saiki knows that if he does go to the doctor about it, he’ll have to tell them about his powers. Something he wants to avoid.
Besides, his brother was the one who had created his limiters, surely he must’ve known about Saiki’s selective mutism at some point.
So, despite really wanting to, Saiki doesn’t say no.
Kusuke arrives exactly after his family finishes their dinner, he figured it’s better to be there in person to help rather than on the TV, much to Saiki’s irritation, and waltzes into the house with a warm smile.
Saiki only replies with a blank look of annoyance.
“I didn’t get a PhD for psychology, but I’ll try my best,” Kusuke says, taking a seat on the couch. “Maybe I should...too bad I’m back in Japan for good! Aw, Kusuo, don’t look at me like that! I’m still here to help, aren’t I? Now tell me what’s wrong exactly.”
You probably figured it out yourself already, why do I have to recount it for you? Saiki narrows his eyes at his brother as he joins him on the couch. It’s not like Kusuke can hear him anyways, even without the ring, his brother still had that dumb telepathy canceler.
Kusuke reads Saiki’s expression like an open book, easily deciphering what it meant, “Oh, well, there’s only so much I can discover myself. It’s better to hear it in full detail from you!”
Saiki responds to that by tossing his phone to Kusuke, showing the same thing he had shown to his parents.
“Well, I did suspect this once or twice, yes. Since we were kids you never really spoke, and even after I moved away you still refused to speak. Tried to make it easier on you with the little limiters, but you just stubbornly stuck to your habit,” Kusuke chuckles, tossing Saiki’s phone back, “and what I’m guessing from this current dilemma of yours is that you can’t tell why you’re still sticking to your habit either. You even tried forcing yourself to speak, but nothing comes out, no matter how hard you try. So here’s what I think: You’re still afraid that if you speak out loud.”
Saiki stands and takes to the stairs to leave. Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t offended, he just thinks his brother had just wasted his time. That was possibly the dumbest answer he has ever heard. He’s not afraid of speaking, it’s got to be something else.
“Oh come on, Kusuo, it’s easy to tell you hate drawing attention to yourself. Telepathy helps you keep a low profile while still being able to talk to others, it makes one to one conversations easier, so it’s obvious to think that’s the reason why you prefer it so much till now,” Kusuke explains straightforwardly, “but if you think about it, the reason back then was because your words kept getting drowned out by others. Childhood trauma, you thought you fixed it, but it’s still there. You’ve been unconsciously using your defense mechanism even when you don’t need it anymore. So I’m going to assume the reason you can’t properly speak now is because when you try, your brain automatically goes back to the time you were afraid of having your words get drowned out. 
“In short, you got so used to your training wheels, you think you’re riding a two wheel bike! You’re trying to get rid of the training wheels, but you’re afraid you’ll fall without them, even though you won’t!” Kusuke laughs, watching the gears turn in Saiki’s head. Slowly, things fell into place inside Saiki’s head, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, his brother might be right.
He still doesn’t have a solution though, he wants to verbally speak now.
“It’s probably something that takes time, don’t be so impatient,” his mother gently places a hand on his shoulder warmly, smiling softly up at him.
“Yeah, but for now, don’t force yourself. You’ve probably already hurt yourself out of stress,” Kusuke adds.
Saiki hates that he’s right.
The next day, Saiki decides to not wear his telepathy cancelling ring like his mother had instructed, and went downstairs to have breakfast. 
He greets his mother good morning with telepathy and she smiles, chiming a ‘good morning’ back.
“Remember, Kuu, don’t force yourself. Speak when you’re comfortable,” she reminds him as he takes a seat at the table. He nods before starting his breakfast. “No one’s rushing you, okay?”
Good grief, I’m not a child, Saiki silently eats his food, slowly rubbing his thumb on the spoon. I know how to handle myself.
His walk to school is yet again uneventful, just the way he likes it, and he spends the whole walk trying to practice speaking. Unlike yesterday, he’s doing it at his own pace and there’s less forcing this time.
He accidentally chokes on his spit, but other than that, nothing. Oh well.
Toritsuka catches him along the hallways, shooting him a pouty look as he asks, “If you were having troubles, why didn’t you tell me? I can channel the spirit of a psychiatrist if you want!”
Saiki holds a hand up to tell him to stop, and proceeds to tell him that he already has the issue under control. Toritsuka sighs in defeat and points at him with a serious look, “Tell me next time though!”
I’d rather not. I don’t want to owe you anything, Saiki frowns and proceeds to walk off, making Toritsuka to sulk even more.
Entering the classroom, he’s immediately blocked by Akechi, who smiles up at him with his usual wide-eyed look.
“I noticed yesterday you weren’t talking a lot, you don’t often speak so it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to some, but you barely spoke a word. Even when the teacher called on you, which was really weird, and I noticed you wore a ring yesterday too but now you’re not wearing it today, and you seem to be back to your usual speaking self when I saw you with Toritsuka. So I’m assuming the ring somehow prevents you from using that you know what. But why would you do that? Well I’m guessing it’s because you want to be able to normally speak with your mouth, but obviously you can’t, so you might have selec--“
Akechi stops talking when Saiki shoots him a warning look, making the former cover his mouth instantly. Saiki looks around the classroom to see if anyone else heard his friend’s loud mouth and is relieved to know that no one heard him.
“I apologize,” Akechi finally says after uncovering his mouth. Saiki rolls his eyes and walks to his seat, closing his eyes when he sits down.
Slow and steady. He’ll get his results soon. He can’t rush speaking. He can’t rush speaking. He can’t rush--
“Can you speak now?” Aiura whispers to him, squatting next to his desk. He silently frowns at her, answering her question with that. She nervously laughs and scratches the back of her head, “Well, that’s unfortunate. But I’m gonna assume you at least found a solution.”
He looks away, not responding to her, but she takes it as a yes.
“Here’s an idea, how about you try reading aloud from a book or something?” Aiura suggests, refusing to leave him alone. “You’re technically not having a conversation when you’re doing that.”
Saiki blinks. Then he blinks again as he thinks about it. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. It might just work.
“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” Aiura whined, resting her chin on his desk. “Just tell me it’s a shitty idea if you think it is!”
No, it’s...a really good idea, Saiki smiles softly. Honestly, why didn’t he think of it sooner? He loves reading, so the idea should’ve struck him from the beginning!
She grins back at him and stands up to leave, shooting him a thumbs up, “There you have it! Good luck then!”
Alright. 
A good book he really enjoys? Check.
Complete isolation within school grounds? Check.
Telepathy cancelling ring he specifically teleported home to grab before lunch to use? Check.
He closes his eyes and listens. It’s pin drop silent. Perfect, just the way he likes it. He crosses his eyes and uses clairvoyance to check if anyone is going to come by and bother him. Nope. Good.
Okay, now for the book.
He flips it open to the first page and opens his mouth, eyeing the first word. He makes sure he isn’t rushing himself or trying too hard, but it’s rather difficult for someone as impatient as he is. He certainly feels a lot calmer now that he knows that he’s alone, but the prickling sensation in the back of his neck that makes him think someone is coming distracts him a little.
Minutes go by and he’s starting to realize that this isn’t working.
He reaches home and is met with a welcoming smile from his mother, which makes him smile a little too. She happily walks over to him, holding onto his arm, “Any progress?”
He shakes his head.
“Aw, that’s unfortunate. That’s okay though, keep trying!”
Saiki responds by digging into his bag and bringing out the book he tried to read earlier. 
His mother stares, and she squeals, bringing her hands to her lips to contain her excitement, “When you were younger, we never got the chance to teach you or your brother how to read aloud and speak. I felt like I was missing out as a mother, but I can finally do that with you now!”
Ah, she must have misinterpreted what him holding the book up had meant. He wanted to tell her he’s practicing on his own how to speak, and maybe she should leave him alone so it’s easier. But she looks so happy and excited, he can’t bring himself to say no.
It’s at this moment Saiki realizes he’s weak at saying no to anyone at all.
He’s nervous. He can’t say anything. Not when his mother is staring at him with a gentle smile. She’s not forcing him and she’s being rather patient with him, after repeating the same word seven times, she’s still waiting.
That’s what makes him nervous.
He doesn’t know what she’s thinking, not when he has the ring on, and so he doesn’t know what reaction she’ll have if he ends up making a strangled cat noise. Or worse, not making any sound at all. 
And oh jeez, did he accidentally turn on his pyrokinesis? Because it’s getting a bit too warm for him. He’s sweating and his lips aren’t even open, they’re pressed tightly together. Too tight. He wonders if he should pry his mouth open like last time.
“Kuu, it’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” his mother reassures, and he only starts noticing he’s making the furniture float with his powers from stress. “When you’re ready.” 
He nods. He wants to leave.
She repeats the word for him again.
He has dinner and immediately goes to bed afterwards. Words spoken today: None.
He has a new routine now.
Every morning he keeps the ring in his pocket and has breakfast, greeting his mother good morning before sitting down. He quickly digs in before his father wakes up and leaves home for school. His walk to school is filled with him opening and closing his mouth, and he’s gotten so used to it, he does it unconsciously on his walk to school now.
He still interacts with his friends, but it’s only lunch when he fully isolates himself to read a book. Most of the times he ends up giving up, properly reading in his head, and other times he stares at the exact same word for the whole duration of lunch until the bell rings.
He starts hanging out with Nendou and the rest less, and immediately heads home so he can continue trying with his mother, who’s still ever so patient with him. Weekends are spent with him reading alone in some deserted area.
This goes on for about two weeks and a half, until Kaidou finally notices his lack of appearance.
There’s still not much progress, but at least he feels less nervous with his mom now. Other than that, nothing.
“Saiki, you wanna come over to my place tomorrow? We’re all going to study together for that Japanese test,” Kaidou says. He had long dropped the habit of using his chuunibyou references for normal conversations. He still clips into that persona from time to time, especially in larger crowds, but rarely ever with close friends.
Saiki raises a brow at him. He might have to turn now, considering how usually all their study sessions always end up with them just hanging out. Not to mention it’s useless for him to study since he’s already so smart.
“We as in,” Kaidou mistakes the eyebrow raise as a question to who ‘we’ are, “all of us but Mera and Hairo. Mera’s busy with work and Hairo’s busy with training.”
That barely explains who ‘we’ are, though, Saiki deadpans to himself.
“So are you coming?”
Saiki sighs, Probably no--
“You are most definitely going!” His mother says and he wonders how she could’ve possibly known. To answer that, she adds, “Kairou’s mother told me of course!”
Good grief, Saiki rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table to practice speaking as usual.
“You need a social life, Kuu. What’s the point of learning how to speak if you’re not going to talk to anyone?” She nags, sitting directly across from him.
He doesn’t want to tell her he’s only learning because he wants to vocally sigh in pleasure from the beautiful taste of coffee jelly and other sweets.
“Your little brother is so cute, ha ha,” Aiura dotes, poking at Toki. The little boy immediately runs away from her and hides behind Kaidou, looking up at his older brother.
“Are you having a meeting fo--” He’s cut short by Kaidou, who covers his mouth from embarrassment.
“My room is this way,” Kaidou nervously laughs, hand still over Toki’s mouth as he walks. 
Today is going to be a long day.
They begin by actually studying for five minutes straight, until Yumehara starts eating from stress and Nendou decides to wander off to play on Kaidou’s console. Aiura begins focusing on decorating her notebook instead of actually doing her work and Kuboyasu’s distracted talking to Kaidou about something unrelated to the Japanese test.
Teruhashi is the only one that looks like she’s focused, but even she’s having troubles studying because she’s sitting right next to Saiki and her mind is a mess from panic and excitement. All he can tell from his telepathy is that she’s waiting for the moment where Saiki gets stumped and she’ll swoop in to save him.
Not happening. Besides, he’s already done.
“W-Wow, you’re...fast,” she says, leaning over. Ah, now she’s trying to make him gasp from close contact. Good grief.
Fast forward and now it’s very clear they’re all distracted. They’re laughing about...something, and he’s busy tracing his eyes over a word and practicing it over and over in his head. Then the laughter dies and someone calls his name, so he looks up.
“You okay?” Teruhashi asks, looking concerned for him. “You’re not laughing. Are you not enjoying yourself?”
Isn’t that something Kaidou should ask as the host? Saiki deadpans, holding a hand up to signal he’s fine.
“Maybe he has a different sense of humor,” Yumehara says. “How about we all try to make him laugh?”
Good grief, this is just a waste of t-- And Nendou’s taking off his pants. A classic playground move. Unfortunately, Saiki never found butt jokes all that funny.
They each have a go at trying to make Saiki laugh, ranging from ludicrous acts to extremely terrible jokes, none of which amuses him.
In fact, the more they try, the more cramped he feels. They’re talking and talking and all he can hear are words that are so loud it hurts. It’s probably because of the close proximity between all of them that makes Saiki able to hear all their thoughts nice and clear, but the fact that they’re all thinking at the same time makes it even louder.
Nendou’s the only one he can’t hear from, but he’s also busy making stranger lip noises that can only make an infant giggle.
Then it gets too loud and his head starts hurting and his mouth feels dry. They all want him to laugh. He can’t.
And putting on the ring now would seem weird.
So he stands, making them all stop in confusion, and he excuses himself to use the bathroom. It’s when he finally shuts the door behind him that he feels at peace.
Good grief, looks like he’ll take a short break in the bathroom before going back.
He passes by Toki’s room and notices the boy quietly reading by himself -probably studying- though what actually made Saiki pause to look is the fact that Toki’s mouth is still moving, yet no sound comes out.
The idea hits him like a train, and he feels stupid yet again.
He’s been way too focused on moving his mouth for the purpose of actually speaking that he never realizes that maybe he doesn’t necessarily need to vocalize something in order to move his mouth. He can just mouth the words as he reads, getting used to the feeling of using his mouth to speak, then ease himself into learning how to talk from there.
So maybe this study session wasn’t a disaster after all.
He returns to Kaidou’s room with a small smile that nearly shocks the entire room. 
Oh come on, it’s not like he never smiles.
He copies Toki’s technique the next time he’s practicing reading aloud and it changes things, just a little. As predicted, he feels more at ease whenever he’s reading with his mother. He hasn’t spoken yet, but he’s not getting that crushing feeling anymore, it’s more of a small sting now.
Once or twice he manages to make a noise, but not a single coherent word comes out.
A whole week goes by and it’s a Saturday, his mother is relaxing on the couch with him and he’s mouthing out the words from the book he’s reading. It’s a peaceful day and no one’s here to bother him, so he can practice without having to worry about being dragged away on some bizarre adventure.
“Kusuo!” Ugh, he thought too soon. Saiki looks up from his book, his mouth snapping shut so fast it makes a loud clicking sound. His father is smiling nervously at him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”
No, Saiki immediately responds with telepathy, then he slips the ring back on and goes back to reading.
“It’s nothing you can’t handle though,” his father says, rubbing his hands together to beg.
No. He knows his father can’t hear him, but he’s thinking it over and over in his head.
“Please, just hear me out.”
No.
“Please, it’s--”
“No!” Saiki snaps, growling at his dad. His mother jumps in surprise and even his father falls back from shock. For a second, he doesn’t realize why they’re so shaken, until he slaps his hand onto his mouth.
His mother wraps her arms around him, jumping from pure joy, “Your first words! I’m so proud of you! We should celebrate, let’s go to the cafe! Order as many coffee jellies as you like.”
Saiki literally lights up, and he’s smiling at the thought of enjoying his coffee jelly to its fullest extent. He couldn’t wait to sigh in content.
“Uhm, what about…?” Her husband points, wondering if they can settle his problem first before going.
“Come on! We’ve got to celebrate, we should invite Kusuke too!”
Saiki immediately sours and he starts weighing his pros and cons. He gets to have coffee jelly if they go out, as much as he wants. Kusuke might be there to bother him.
As expected, Saiki would rather endure his brother’s pressing curiosity than give up his chance at having unlimited coffee jelly from a cafe he likes.
Kusuke doesn’t talk, he merely watches Saiki chew silently, and smiles. He offers to pay for his parents so they wouldn’t have to worry about Saiki bankrupting them.
“You spoke your first words?” Kusuke finally says.
Saiki nods, still enjoying his treat.
“Care to demonstrate?”
Of course he’d ask that. Saiki’s still pretty new at this, so he can’t exactly say words on command. They just...come out. Oh but he knows one word:
“No,” Saiki whispers, so soft it’s almost inaudible. Kusuke grins a bit too wide in response, and it nearly makes Saiki lose his appetite. Nearly.
“Aw, he’s like a little kitten,” Kusuke snorts, moving one of the empty plates on the table with his finger.
Thank goodness his grandfather isn’t here then.
“We should visit your grandparents to show them too!” His mother happily suggests. Well god damn then.
Saiki wonders if it’s possible to brainwash everyone into thinking he was a quiet talker the whole time. There’s no way anyone is going to not notice the change in volume, his telepathy is louder than his current voice by a whole lot.
He decides it’s better to practice speaking with the people who know about his powers. At least they’ll understand, and he figures talking in conversations would help improve his speech skills. He’ll still practice with books, but he’ll have to try actually talking now.
“HA HA HA, YOUR VOICE, IT’S SO SOFT, LIKE A SHY GIRL!” Toritsuka points and Saiki instantly regrets letting him in on this. The medium quickly shuts up upon seeing the offended look on Saiki’s face.
“Oh, so you really did have selective mutism, huh? I can see why you wanted me to keep it a secret, considering it’ll seem strange to everyone else since you use telepathy to communicate and blurting that out wouldn’t make sense. So you want to practice talking to us to ease into the whole talking thing? I’m sure we can help. But as someone who doesn’t talk all that much, I’ll try my best to help but I won’t guarantee--” Akechi is promptly interrupted by Aiura, who has had enough of his babbling.
She cuts in, smiling proudly, “You can count on us! Want me to see your fortune so we can know the probability of success?”
“No,” Saiki whispers, yet again too soft.
“Oh, you really do sound like a cute shy dude,” Aiura flushes.
Saiki wonders if Plan A is still up for grabs.
“Why don’t we ask you some simple questions?” Akechi suggests, looking ready to sprout a waterfall of questions for Saiki to answer. It’s a bit overwhelming to hear him talk so much, but he’ll have to do. 
Saiki nods, agreeing to it.
“What’s your type?” Toritsuka immediately asks. “Curvy bodies? Big breasts?”
“No.” It’s firm and slightly louder, which makes Toritsuka shuffle backwards in panic.
“How many close family members do you have?” Aiura butts in, grinning.
That should be easy. Five. 
Saiki nearly holds up his hand instead of actually answering. He takes a few seconds, struggling as he did. It barely shows he is, but the three other people watching leans in closer and closer each second he doesn’t answer, and it makes him want to run away again.
“..ve.” Saiki finally mumbles out.
“Come again?” They’re so close to his face, he can almost feel their breaths against his face. He isn’t liking this one bit. 
His mouth instantly seals shut from stress.
“Sorry, sorry, space,” Toritsuka holds his hands up and takes a step back, dragging the other two along with him. “This feels weird. You’re always like, really powerful, y’know? But here you are, looking terrified about speaking.”
“Am not,” Saiki bites back.
“If you say so, alright, next question!”
“Saiki, I was wondering,” Teruhashi nervously fiddled with her hands behind her back, “is there a reason why you’ve been hanging out with m- us less?”
Saiki expected this. Practicing to speak with books has caused him to have less free time to spend with his friends, and it wouldn’t take long for them to notice this. He currently couldn’t think of a believable good excuse to say and it’s not like he can just walk away from this.
Teruhashi begins to worry as she watches him just stand there without a word. After what seemed like forever, she decides to drop the matter and smiles, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. Bye!” And she walks off quicker than usual.
Crisis averted?
He walks down the stairs, and for the first time ever, he greets his mother ‘good morning’ with a smile and from his mouth.
It’s soft, but not as quiet as his first words, and it’s soft enough for you to know he doesn’t talk a lot. Which is perfect for a person like him.
His mother smiles so wide, it almost looks painful, and she throws her arms around her son, squeezing him tight, “Good morning to you too! Good morning!”
His walk to school is uneventful, much like the ones he had before he learnt how to speak, and he finds it rather pleasant because the whole mouth exercise was beginning to grow annoying.
It had almost taken him three months to get to this point. Three months of relentless practicing. He feels proud of himself.
“Think fast! Today’s day, go!” Toritsuka points and Saiki blinks, staring at him.
“Monday.”
“You’re getting pretty good! Y’know, since I helped you,” Toritsuka pretends to be busy checking his nails, then he slyly looks up, only to find Saiki already walking off. “Hey!”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Wow, that’s a long sentence, ha ha,” Toritsuka falls into step next to him. 
Saiki walks a bit faster, trying to lose him, “You’re surprised because you didn’t help much. Akechi did most of the work.” His voice trails off if he talks too much, so Toritsuka had to lean in slightly to hear the last part better.
“No fair, the guy talks faster than a bullet train, of course he’d do more,” Toritsuka complains.
“All you asked me was what type of women I was into,” Saiki frowns. 
“You still haven’t answered me, by the way.”
“Already did.”
“No isn’t an answer.”
Saiki enters his classroom and promptly shuts the door in front of the other’s face, which basically translates to: “Yes it is.”
“Hello!” Aiura waves just as he turns around from the door.
“Hi.” He replies easily and takes a seat.
Aiura immediately beams, skipping over, “Did you finally do it?”
Saiki shrugs.
“Well I think he can do it now, I just saw him talking to Toritsuka just fine, unless anger boosts your speech? In which case, that would make sense too, because people who are angry tend to do things impulsively, but then again, you’re in a good mood, so it can only mean you can speak now!” Akechi drops by, looking just as excited as Aiura is. “But there’s only one way we can test that.”
Saiki pales inwardly as he realizes what Akechi is about to say due to telepathy.
You know what, at least this slice of cake tastes great.
He has, yet again, been convinced to join another outing, but Akechi says it’s his final test. 
Everyone seems to be talking, but none of it interests him, he’s only here because of the sweets, and it looks like no one is going to bother him either, so he might as well enjoy.
“Mm,” he hums, biting into another slice of cake.
“Did he just...?” Kaidou pauses, staring. Everyone’s staring along as well, just as surprised as Kaidou is.
Saiki stops smiling almost instantly upon noticing the sudden attention he is receiving, “Good grief, what’s so surprising?”
Teruhashi’s eyes are so wide, it could almost pop off her sockets, “This...feels weird.”
“Was his voice always this...soft?” Yumehara whispers over to Teruhashi. “It feels like the first time I’ve ever heard it.”
Everyone else agrees along with her. Oh well, it doesn’t matter what they think, as long as Saiki gets to enjoy his sweets with a sigh of satisfaction, then all is well.
Saiki sighs, taking another bite.
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remywrites5 · 4 years
Note
hey!! it’s my birthday today!! And I wanted to know if it wouldn’t be any trouble if u could write a jegulus one shot where they celebrate regulus’ birthday? if not I understand!! I just rlly like ur fics!!
Hi, sorry I’m reading Red, White and Royal Blue and am currently in a Royalty AU mood. Hope you don’t mind! Happy birthday!!!!
                                                           ***
           James Potter was not at all excited about going to Prince Regulus’ eighteenth birthday party. He sat in the back of the car, staring grumpily out the window, wishing something would happen that would mean they could turn around and go home. Normally, James would be all about getting to party and Prince Sirius had been James’ best friend since they were kids. It was Prince Regulus that was the problem.
           Prince Regulus was an obnoxious brat who always used to follow James and Sirius around. James knew that Reg had grown up quite a lot since then, he was always portrayed as some kind of heartthrob in the tabloids and had over 100 million Instagram followers. James knew his own 80 million followers was nothing to sneeze at, but it was just another reason for him to be annoyed. It didn’t help that Regulus had the audacity to be very attractive with his dark hair in a fashionable undercut, his stunning grey eyes and his high cheekbones.
           Although James wasn’t royalty (thank Christ) he was the son of one of the richest men in Britain and that held its own kind of clout. He always got invited to social gatherings and had deemed him an acceptable friend for the heir to the English throne. It meant going to social events and being accepted without all the weight of expectation.
           When he arrived at the party, James immediately flagged down a glass of champagne. He took his phone out and took a selfie. There was not point in attending the social event of the season if he wasn’t going to flaunt it on the gram. Besides, he looked rather smart in his dark blue suit with maroon tie. Anyone would be lucky to take him home.
           His eyes landed on Reg (very much of their own volition as James was not actively seeking him out) to find the birthday boy dancing with some pop singer that James vaguely recognized. The Pop singer had her phone out, probably doing an Instagram story of the two of them. James had no idea why the very notion of that had his blood boiling. James went into the fray, shimming his hips to the beat. He danced first with a football player and then some actress. He still hadn’t managed to find his good for nothing best friend, who was no doubt off snogging Remus somewhere and ignoring the party.
           James twirled around and came face to face with Regulus. After an awkward moment of neither of them moving, James reached out and touched his fingertips against Reg’s hips, waiting to see if the Prince would step away. When he didn’t, James grabbed his hips more fully and brought Regulus closer.
           “Happy birthday!” he shouted over the music, leaning down to speak directly into Reg’s ear.
           “You don’t have to pretend like we’re friends,” Regulus said, scowling slightly up at James.
           “Then why are you dancing with me?” James shot back with a grin.
           “Why amI dancing with you?” Regulus countered, sliding out of James’ grip and dancing over to a pair of twins who were more than happy to play sandwich with Regulus.
           James shrugged it off and danced with an Instagram model for a bit. For some reason his traitorous eyes kept seeking Reg out wherever he was. It didn’t matter if he was dancing, eating, drinking, talking with his mum, James kept trying to find him like he was playing hide and seek with Reg. He had to admit Reg looked nice in the grey three-piece suit that matched his eyes. He could see why people were constantly swooning over him and why Regulus’ dating life was constantly splashed all over the tabloids. James could admit he had been following it a bit closely as of late.
           James saw Regulus slip away from the crowd and decided to follow him. He was just curious why Reg was abandoning his own party. He had no other interests beyond that. He dodged behind pillars and weaved in and out of doorways as he followed Reg up to what he knew to be Reg’s rooms. When he slipped inside, Regulus was already halfway done unbuttoning his shirt, his vest and tie already discarded on the vanity chair, and as he turned the smile on his face dropped. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, swearing in his unbelievably posh accent and making James grin just a little.
           “I was curious.”
           “Why are you here?” Reg asked, pulling his shirt closed for propriety.
           “Why are you skipping out on your own party?”
           Regulus glowered at him. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business and if you don’t leave immediately I can and will have you thrown in the dungeons.”
           James couldn’t help throwing his head back and laughing. “The dungeons, Reg, seriously?”
           “Why are you here?” Regulus asked again impatiently, punctuating every word with emphasis.
           “Maybe I just want – “
           “James!”
           “Okay!” James said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know! I can’t stop looking at you in that damn suit and I saw you sneaking away and – ugh – can’t a bloke just follow another bloke around without having to explain himself?”
           “You do have to explain yourself when you’re in my bedroom when I’m about lose my damn virginity!�� Regulus snapped at him, stomping over and grabbing James by the arm. He hauled James towards the door and tried to shove him out of it.
           “Whoa, wait!” James said, putting his hands up and blocking himself in the door. “You’re planning on losing your virginity tonight?”
           “Get out!”Regulus shouted, using his whole body to try and move James but James didn’t budge.
           “To whom?”
           “James Potter, I swear I will –“ The threat died on Reg’s lips as one of the Prewitt twins Reg had been dancing with earlier came into view.
           “Really?” James said over his shoulder to Reg. “That guy?”
           Regulus let out a scream of frustration and tried once again to shove James out of the doorway. James waited until the Prewitt was close enough. He timed it perfectly, waiting until Regulus was off balance, and then spun around, capturing Reg’s lips in a surprised kiss. Regulus let out a noise of shock and quickly pushed James away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
           “Oh hey Reg,” the Prewitt said, giving a small wave. “So James came to his senses after all. I’ll leave you to it then, cheers!”
           “Huh,” James said, cocking his head to the side and watching the Prewitt leave. “He’s good people.”
           “James, I swear I will gouge your eyes out with a spoon!”
           James stepped into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him. “What did the twin mean that I’d come to my senses?”
           “How the hell should I know?” Regulus asked, turning his nose up primly. “I’m not in charge of what other people say.”
           James smirked. “But you knew what he meant, didn’t you?”
           Regulus wheeled around and put his hands on his hips. He was clearly pouting but James didn’t know if it was about the kiss or the Prewitt twin leaving. “Are you going to get out or am I going to have to have someone throw you out?”
           “You know, you’re very attractive,” James observed, walking backwards and sitting down on Reg’s bed.
           Regulus huffed indignantly and slid his phone from his pocket. “I press one button and they will toss you out,” he threatened, his thumb hovering over the screen. “And I’ll make sure you’re never allowed back, Sirius or no Sirius.”
           “If you want to explain to whoever comes rushing in why I’m in your bedroom then you be my guest,” James said, waving his hand at Reg. “While you’re in a state of undress.”
           Regulus’ face went bright red as he stomped over to James. “You are the most insufferable wanker I’ve ever met!”
           “And you’re a selfish brat,” James said, raising an eyebrow, daring Regulus to argue. “But I think you like me.”
           Regulus’ jaw dropped. “Who in their right mind would like such an infuriating, pig-headed, absolutely –“ Regulus stopped talking as James reached out and grabbed him by the lapel, tugging his forward until Reg was standing between James’ open legs. Their lips were just a few little centimeters apart, their breath mingling with the taste of champagne, heady and sweet.
           “Is that why you used to follow Sirius and me around constantly?” he teased, sliding his hand along Reg’s collar and then pushing his fingers up into his hair. “Did you have a little crush on me?”
           Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
           “I don’t have to,” James quipped back. “You’re flattering me plenty.”
           “I’ve done nothing but insult you since you arrived here,” Regulus reminded him, his gaze dropping down to James’ lips for a moment and then back up.
           “I do enjoy a challenge,” James murmured, guiding Reg’s face forward and crashing their lips together in a heated kiss.
           Regulus shoved James down onto the bed and immediately climbed on top of him, biting at James’ jawline before finding his lips again. There was nothing sweet about the kiss, each of them pushing and tugging at each other, gaining ground and then losing it quickly. But damn if it wasn’t the hottest snogging of James’ life.
           James rolled them over, managing to pin Regulus underneath him. “Are you going to behave? Or am I going to have to take your present back and return it?”
           Regulus’ eyes lit up at the mention of presents. “What is it? What did you get me?” he asked excitedly, patting James down in search of it.
           “I don’t have it on me.” James laughed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Reg’s mouth. “Stay right here and I’ll go get it. You move and I’m taking it back.”
           “Fine,” Reg said, lifting himself up onto his elbows and watching James as he went to the door. James rushed back downstairs and got his present from his driver who had been watching it for him. He hurried upstairs, suddenly very anxious for Reg to see the present.
           When he got back to the room, Regulus was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly but he dropped it the moment James shut the door. “Gimme!” Regulus said, doing grabby hands at James.
           James snorted and placed the carrier down on the bed and then pulled the cloth off the top. Regulus immediately made the highest pitched squeal James had ever heard. He couldn’t help feeling a little bit smug at that. “I take it you like it?”
           Regulus opened the carrier and gently pulled out the kitten from inside, cradling the small black cat by his cheek. “He’s incredible! And so soft!” Regulus melted, petting the tiny cat behind the ears with his index finger.
           James smiled and sat down next to Reg. “I know you always wanted one,” he said, watching Regulus place the kitten on his chest in a ball of fluff. “But your family always had dogs growing up.”
           “You remembered that?” Regulus said in surprise, turning his face towards James. “I never thought you paid any attention to me. You and Sirius certainly ditched me often enough.”
           James lay down next to Regulus and reached out to pet the kitten. “That’s only because you were terribly obnoxious.”
           Regulus backhanded his stomach, making James let out an “oof” of surprise. “And now?” Reg asked, grinning in amusement.
           “And now I wanted to fight everyone on the dance floor that was touching you,” James admitted, reaching out and sliding his fingers through Reg’s hair.
           “You know jealousy is very unbecoming,” Regulus teased, pressing up for another kiss while being careful not to disturb the kitten. “I’m a very desired individual and you’re just going to have to accept that if we’re to be together.”
           “Oh is that so?” James asked, wiggling closer and ducking his head into the hollow of Regulus’ throat, licking at his Adam’s apple before sucking a mark there. Regulus gasped against him and threaded his fingers through James’ hair. “Then I’ll just have to make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
           “You spiteful, arrogant – “
           James swallowed up the rest of the insults with more kissing. Regulus whimpered against James’ lips and tugged hard on James’ hair in retaliation, making James groan against his mouth. “Just name the damn cat, you little shit, before I take it away from you and raise it as my own.”
           Regulus stuck his tongue out at James and held the kitten protectively, shielding it from James’ view. “Hmm,” Regulus said, thinking it over. He examined the cat, lifting it up and then letting it settle back down. “Dante.”
           “What?” James said, furrowing his brow. “That’s a dumb name!”
           “Excuse me, no one asked you!” Regulus said defensively. “Besides, it’s my birthday present!”
           “Fine,” James said, conceding this one time. Regulus looked adorable and James very much wanted to cuddle him all night. But he remembered Reg had plans for the evening. “Are you still looking to lose your virginity tonight?”
           “Not anymore!” Regulus said, dropping his jaw as if scandalized. “Not in front of our son, you pervert!”
           “Our son, huh?” James asked, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing at Reg’s slip up.
           “Well, I mean…” Regulus blushed a deep crimson color. “You did buy Dante and I’d be willing to share custody with you. If you wanted.”
           James chuckled and kissed Regulus sweetly on the lips. “I don’t know who I’m going to spoil more, you or the cat.”
           “Me I hope,” Regulus said, chasing James’ lips as he pulled away. “You can still spoil Dante but spoil me more.”
           “Brat,” James chided, sliding his tongue into Regulus’ mouth and kissing him breathless.
           “Git.”  
           “Demon.”
           “It’s my birthday,” Regulus whined, letting his lower lip protrude. “Be sweet to me.”
           “Very well,” James said with a long-suffering sigh, kissing the pout off Regulus’ lips. “You win.”
           Regulus hummed happily with a satisfied grin on his face. “I do so love to win.”
           “Good birthday then, sweetheart?” James asked, stroking his finger down Reg’s cheek affectionately.
            Regulus nodded. “The best.”
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mamabearcatfanfics · 4 years
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The Ronin - Chapter 6
As you might have expected from the previous chapter, this one gets a little violent. Another warning regarding unwanted touching, nothing explicit, but physically violent and sexually suggestive. Please don't read if this will cause you harm - no fanfic is worth that.
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Sango glanced up at Kirara's sudden sneeze and growl, moving her attention from the knot she had just tightened around the groaning man's wrists, to the dark yellow plume of smoke on the other side of the village, close to the river.
"Miroku, do you see that?" she called out, hoping he could hear her over the din, as the captured man yelled curses at her. Most of the outsiders had been caught and subdued. There was only one left unaccounted for, as well as the leader, Eto.
Miroku glanced up from his own knot, smacking the shakujo down on the man's head in retaliation for him trying to kick him, then frowned. "Doesn't that look like one of the youkai repellent's you use?"
Sango nodded grimly. "Yes, it does. I'm going to go check it out – I'll leave Kirara here with you, just in case." She stroked the nekomata's fur as the big cat snarled at the man being restrained. He shut up immediately, and Kirara purred. "You stay here and help Miroku okay? Don't let any of them get away."
She turned to leave and was surprised by a sudden tug on her fingers. Miroku's gaze was serious, his dark violet eyes filled with concern.
"Sango, be careful. Inuyasha told me a little of what happened to Kagome, and the thought of something like that happening to you…" his fingers caressed hers gently. "Watch your back, and return to me safely."
A sudden warmth filled Sango's heart, and she smiled at him, shy but pleased. Every now and then, he would drop the projected façade of the lecherous monk and show his true self, a kind and caring man who she had grown to love dearly. It was an unspoken agreement between them that their duty would come first. But after Naraku was defeated, should they survive was hopeful for more, very hopeful. She squeezed his fingers in return before letting go. "Always."
Kagome tried to keep her balance as she was dragged along, the ronin's tight grip causing the joint in her wrist to make a cracking sound. They were moving so fast, it was difficult to focus on much more than the burning in her lungs. Her mind was racing, thoughts jumbling one over the other. She wasn't sure if he was going to make good on his threats, and she really didn't want to find out.
There had to be some way out of this. Surely Kirara would hear Inuyasha, even if Miroku and Sango didn't. Sango carried several youkai poisons and their antidotes, just in case Shippou or Kirara got into them, so she just had to hope that this was one of them. Maybe if she could stall Eto, get him talking, she could buy some time. 'Please', she prayed, 'please let Inuyasha be okay!'
She couldn't regret going with him, even though every touch of Eto's fingers made her skin crawl. Her actions had saved Akiko from what she was sure would have been a brutal death - that poor little girl and her mother had been through enough already. She tried not to think of Inuyasha's expression as she'd been dragged away, the pure fury burning in his amber eyes, the spittle dribbling down his chin as he snarled, unable to even stagger to his feet.
The memory made her throat constrict, and she pushed it away. She would apologise later, as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted. She just had to make sure she survived so she could apologise. 'Focus, Kagome!' She needed to pay attention to what was happening in front of her, right now. She had to stall Eto, annoy him, ask him questions. Even if it made him angry enough to pause in their escape to hit her, at least those would be moments where they weren't moving further away from Inuyasha.
"These people welcomed you into their village, helped you!" Her voice sounded a little hysterical even to her own ears, and she did her best to take deep breaths to centre herself, find her calm. "Why are you hurting them?"
"You think you can shame me woman?", he grunted, his fist squeezing even tighter around her wrist, forcing a whimper past her teeth as he pulled her through the thick underbrush. "I have no honour."
"But you're a samurai? I thought bushido was meant to be all about honour?" She yelped as he yanked on her arm, picking up the pace. "I just want to understand", Kagome panted, tripping over branches but managing to keep her feet. She would not be dragged along the ground by this man again. Think Kagome, think!
"The villagers", she continued, ignoring another angry tug on her arm, hopeful that it meant she was getting to him, "one of them told me you were left for dead. I can understand that you would be angry, and might not want to return, but why not make a new life for yourself? Why continue living in violence?" She leaned back a little, digging her heels in and trying use her weight to slow him down, but it hardly made a difference.
He turned to look at her over his shoulder and the feral grin that rolled across his face made her shiver. "Because I like it." He turned his gaze away from her, his eyes constantly darting between the trees as they ran towards the river. "I like the fear in people's faces when they realise there's no escape; when they realise that death is coming for them, and I'm the one that's going to deliver it." He scoffed. "I'm already goin' to hell; I was trained to fight and kill and I enjoy it. Just because I'm no longer a samurai doesn't mean I can't still do what I do best."
"What do you mean, you're no longer a samurai?"
He grunted. "Quite the chatterbox aren't you? Don't think I don't understand what you're trying to do." He stopped suddenly, causing her to fall against him. His strong hand grabbed her face, fingers digging into her cheeks. Spittle landed on her cheek as he spoke, his tone savage.
"I wasn't born into the shimin class, I was just lowly rank and file, but that fucker was quick to take advantage of my skill as soon as it was convenient. All that talk about honour." He spat on the ground, just missing her feet. "They might have called me samurai, but it didn't mean shit to those born to that class. They still treated me like dirt under their feet. They cast me away like rubbish, no one came looking for me." He shoved her face away and grabbed her arm again, tugging her along. "Just like no one will be coming for you, so you can stop trying to stall me and shut the fuck up."
Kagome grabbed at a branch with her free hand and clung on, hooking her elbow around it and bracing her feet solidly against a root. She had to slow them down, give the others more time. A hard yank on her hair made her squeal and trip forward, her arm pulling free.
"Let me go", she hissed, trying to twist out of his grasp, despite the pain in her head. "Run now, before Inuyasha finds us. I'm warning you, if he sees you hurting me again, he's gonna tear you to shreds!"
"Didn't your mother ever tell you men don't like women who talk too much?" he chuckled. Still holding onto her tightly with one hand, he unknotted the scarf around his neck with the other, then paused for a moment to force it in between her panting lips, tying it tightly at the back of her neck, then produced a short length of cord from his pocket, which he used to tie her hands behind her back. "That should shut you up for a while."
Kagome almost retched at the smell and taste of stale sweat on the scarf as he dragged her onwards again. Well, that plan had backfired spectacularly. Now she'd lost the use of her hands and was unable to take a deep breath from her mouth, forced to breathe through her nose only. She could see sunlight glinting on water, which meant they were almost at the river. A feeling of dread felt like a lead weight in her stomach. What was he going to do when they got there?
--
Inuyasha struggled to stand. His lungs and eyes were burning, and he couldn't get the stench out of his nose. But none of that mattered. Kagome was gone. She had promised to stay out of danger, and instead she'd dived headfirst right into it, ignoring him and leaving him behind where he couldn't protect her. His fucking wench always stepped up to help people, never thinking about the danger to herself - one day her bleeding heart would get her killed.
He swayed on his feet, locking his knees as he took great gasping breaths of air. Black dots crowded his blurred vision and his ears began to ring. He shook his head determinedly. He would not pass out. Not when Kagome needed him. Not when he'd failed her last time.
He could feel the rapid rise of his youki, his rage wanting to feed his transformation now that Kagome's calming presence had been taken away from him, and as always, he tried to fight it off, but he was almost at the point of no return. He didn't want to black out and find himself surrounded by slaughtered women and children, leaving Kagome to her fate. He shut his eyes, his fist gripping Tessaiga tightly. He would not lose himself. He refused.
A sudden light touch on his arm had him snarling, almost falling as he drew Tessaiga blindly. He couldn't see very well, he couldn't smell anything apart from that damned youkai repellent, and the ringing in his ears was currently affecting his hearing.
"Inuyasha, it's me, Sango."
His shoulders sagged in relief, resting the transformed blade of Tessaiga on the ground.
"Sango, quick. If you've got the antidote for this stuff, give it to me. He's got Kagome."
"What?"
Before he could respond, he heard a faint whistling noise. He just had time to recognise the sound as an arrow slicing through the air as Sango tugged him sideways, and he felt the sharp pain of metal embedding itself in his tricep. Sango pulled him downwards, yanking him behind a fallen tree. He could hear the women and children screaming.
"Sango, what's goin' on!" He blinked at her, but could only see light and blurred shadow, his streaming eyes unable to focus on anything. He could feel the heat of her body next to him, and hear the whistle of another arrow overhead.
"I think we just found our missing mercenary", she said, her hands on his upper arm, trying to free the arrow embedded in the muscle. He tugged his arm away.
"No time", he snarled, his lungs still burning. "I gotta go after her Sango – she needs me. But I can't fuckin' smell anythin' and I can hardly see. If you've got an antidote to this give it to me."
Sango sighed heavily. "I don't think I have. I have another which might counteract it, but it would take time to work, and the herbs in it have side effects. It would make you drowsy, which is exactly what you don't need right now."
Inuyasha's head slammed back against the rock. 'Fucking wench. Why didn't you listen to me, Kagome? Please, please be okay.' His youkai gave another massive pulse and he panted, forcing back against it, gripping his sword so tightly in his fist that his knuckles showed pure white.
"Inuyasha! Inuyasha, listen to me. You've always fought transforming. What if you just let it happen?"
"Are you fucking insane?" he snarled, shoving Tessaiga back into its scabbard and gripping the hilt. "You were there when I killed all those bandits Sango. I slaughtered them, ripped them apart. My youkai is nothing better than a rabid animal!"
"Maybe that's only because when it finally overcomes you, there's no one mentally controlling it", Sango suggested. "You're so much stronger now than you were then Inuyasha! Maybe there's a way for you to remain in control, and use the heightened speed and agility of your youkai, while still being you."
Inuyasha shook his head as if trying to clear it. "I can't risk it."
"Listen", she continued, talking quickly while another arrow whistled over their heads, "I'm pretty sure I recognise this repellent – it's one used for lesser youkai. If you were at your full strength it wouldn't effect you."
"Are you willing to gamble your life on it Sango?" he growled. "Willing to risk the lives of all those women and children?"
"Are you willing to wait and risk Kagome's?" she countered heatedly. "I have to deal with this mercenary first, before I can go after Kagome. I want to go after her, right now, but he could pick off everyone here in the meantime. Anything I give you will take time to work, time we don't have. I need to protect these women and children, and you need to go after Kagome and keep her safe." He felt her jump to her feet, and her loud cry of Hiraikotsu right next to him made him flatten his ears as she unleashed her bone boomerang.
Inuyasha panted, trying not to panic. She was right, he couldn't wait any longer. He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed since Kagome disappeared through the trees. He needed to try this. He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate as he heard Sango throw her Hiraikotsu again, then the pounding of her feet against the earth as she ran off.
'For Kagome.' He breathed deeply, his hand resting gently on his Tessaiga for reassurance, no longer clenching it like a frightened child. He could do this. He had to do this. He used the pain in his shoulder as a focus, letting his youki rise gradually in small pulses, instead of letting it tug him under like a huge wave and drown out his sense of self, letting it settle.
He opened his eyes. Every individual leaf was suddenly clearer. He could see different auras surrounding plants, see the heat trails of animals that had been in the clearing. His sense of smell intensified. He could smell Kagome. He could smell her fear, her terror. He could hear her screaming. He got to his feet, his breath now easier, and yanked the arrow from the back of his arm, throwing it aside, and sprinted off into the forest.
When Sango came back into the clearing a few moments later, dragging the unconscious man behind her, Inuyasha was gone. She called out to the women and children hiding in the trees, letting them know it was now safe, checking minor injuries. She hoped her suggestion had worked, and that he would find Kagome in time.
--
Eto leered at Kagome over his shoulder, as he dragged her along.
"We're nearly to the river", he said in a sing song tone of voice, making the hairs on the back of Kagome's neck rise. "Once I get you to the other side, I think we might make a stop at the next village." His thumb rubbed against the bare skin on her arm, and she quickly blinked back tears. She would not cry again in front of this man.
"I've been a little busy lately, village responsibilities and all that", he continued. "I think I deserve a relaxing stop at an inn, and the use of a comfortable futon." He rubbed his thumb against her arm again, and her urge to vomit increased, a sense of overwhelming panic making her heart race faster. "There's a few men in that village that I owe a favour to. Maybe I should invite them as well, I always seem to perform better with an audience." He chuckled, his grip on Kagome's arm tightening again. "You could pour the sake for us after I've finished with you, make yourself useful. I might leave you behind then, as a little bonus for all their hard work. They won't mind sloppy seconds."
They moved out into the sunlight from the cover of the trees. Kagome blinked furiously, trying to find anything to slow them down, but there was nothing, just a grassy bank with a few willow trees, and tall reeds growing near the edge where the water current flowed slower. He dragged her over to the riverbank, her shoes sliding on the damp grass, any effort she made to dig in her feet useless. Kagome noticed a small flat bottomed boat near a little jetty with a long paddle, only big enough for two.
She struggled even harder, twisting and turning, trying to kick him in the shins, but he just laughed at her, picking her up and dropping her into the bottom of the boat, forcing her face down. Before she could even sit up, he was using the long handled oar to punt them across the river, standing over her at the back of the boat.
'Shit, shit, shit'. The further they got away from Inuyasha, the more panic crawled up her throat, threatening to strangle her with fear. She couldn't let him take her all the way across. A sudden idea occurred – she was a strong swimmer, but was he? Not everyone could swim. What if she tipped the boat?
She sat up and braced her feet, trying to take deep and slow breaths to calm herself, fill her lungs with oxygen. She waited until they were out in midstream, where the current was strongest and all his attention was focused on the water. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she heaved her body weight to one side, and then the other. With him standing, it was easy to make him lose balance and to make the boat flip. He didn't even have time to yell.
As soon as they hit the water, she dove down as deep as she could, flicking off her shoes and kicking strongly towards the riverbank they'd just left. Her clothing was heavy, and without the use of her hands it hampered her swimming even more, but she kept going, bobbing up to the surface and then turning over to float on her back so that she could breathe easily through her nose, kicking as hard as she could. She needed to get back to Inuyasha, make sure he was okay. Surely the others had found him by now. He was going to be so angry at her, but at the moment that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting back to his side.
As soon as she reached the reeds, she staggered to her feet, throwing herself against the bank and somehow managing to get herself up out of the water, staggering to her feet on dry land. She was gasping for breath around the scarf knotted in her mouth, and the rocks and sticks were cutting into her bare feet as she ran, but at least she'd managed to get away from him.
She'd almost reached the trees when she felt something grab at her tied hands, yanking her backwards, and was then winded by a sudden punch to her side.
"Going somewhere?" he snarled, his fingers twisting into her hair and yanking back her head.
His breaths were coming out in rasping gasps, and he was coughing hard, but Eto's grip on her was almost as strong as before. She tried to duck under his arms again, staggering, out of breath as she struggled to keep her feet, wet clothes hindering her. She knew this was it. If he got her to the other side of the river, it would be harder for the others to find her. She had to stay on this side, no matter what.
Kagome yanked away from him, leaving a good handful of her hair behind, then scrambled to her feet, trying to run back towards the forest again, but Eto grabbed her arms.
"Now now, you're not playing nice", he hissed, water dripping down his face and landing on her neck as he leaned over her. "I thought you said you wouldn't struggle, bitch. What do you call this?"
She drove her head backwards, hoping to connect with his nose and break it, but connecting with his hard chin instead. Dammit, he was too tall. He pressed himself against her, grinding into her backside, and bile burned her throat as she felt hardness under his wet clothing.
His face pressed close to hers, and she could feel the chill of his breath across her wet cheek. "You're just making it better for me. I like it when my women put up a fight." She screamed against the gag again as she felt his teeth close down hard on her earlobe on the same side as her bruised cheek, a sharp pain and then warm wetness trickling down her neck. She struggled harder, and then screamed again as he pulled them both upwards, her voice muffled by the gag still in her mouth. The pain in her arms was excruciating, but she continued to twist wildly, dropping her shoulder and managing to wiggle free.
She was running again, but hit the ground with a thud when he grabbed her by the ankle, tasting blood when the cuts on her mouth reopened. He flipped her over, sitting down over her hips and placing one hand around her neck.
"Maybe you're a little too noisy to keep around. What a shame. Looks like this won't be a long term relationship after all." He increased the pressure on her neck, his face split by a horrifying grin as he looked down at her, watching with glee as she slowly choked. Her body was beyond her control, trying to thrash frantically against his weight as she fought for air, but she was too light to buck him off.
"That's it, pretty, just like that." She could feel him grinding himself against her, and her throat gurgled as she tried to call for Inuyasha, even though it was probably no use. He wouldn't find her in time. He would find her dead, and she had only just told him she loved him. She wanted to howl, but couldn't even manage that, barely being able to breathe.
The terrifying sound of a subsonic growl stilled the gurgling noises from her throat momentarily. That sounded like Inuyasha, but it was so much deeper. She couldn't see anything, restrained as she was by the ronin's choking hold, but the sound of that swelling snarl gave her one last ounce of strength. She twisted frantically, still trying to get away.
All of a sudden the weight from her was removed, and she coughed, unable to do anything else but breathe now the pressure had been released. Her vision was blurring, but she couldn't pass out now. She struggled to sit up, rolling on to her knees.
She could see Inuyasha from behind, stalking towards the ronin, who was sprawled on the ground where he'd been thrown. He struggled to his feet and backed away, staggering, panting heavily with his sword drawn. In total contrast, Inuyasha's pace was measured and graceful, and she breathed a coughing sight of relief. Sango must have administered the antidote. He was going to be alright.
She didn't know if she really wanted to see what was going to come next. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop Inuyasha, even if she had the voice to call out to him. She watched as Eto steadied his stance and then slashed at Inuyasha, the sunlight glinting off the blade. He was fast, but Inuyasha was faster, batting aside his sword strokes like they were nothing, his claws slicing thin cuts into the ronin's flesh. None of what he was doing was lethal, and Kagome could see that Inuyasha was toying with him, not even bothering to draw his own sword.
She'd never seen him fight like this before. There were none of his usual taunts, no over the top bravado, just silent fury. Was this her Inuyasha, or had he lost control? But his actions spoke of nothing but control. The last time his youkai took over, he had ripped and torn those bandits to pieces with no restraint, he was a frenzied, snarling beast. This was different. This was calculated revenge.
By the time Inuyasha had backed Eto to the edge of the river, he had blood oozing from wounds too numerous to count; there didn't seem to be even one part of him that wasn't bleeding, his kimono shredded and chest slick with blood. The ronin's sword play had lost most of its previous finesse, now he dealt desperate hacking strokes as he backed away from Inuyasha and into the shallow water near the riverbank.
Inuyasha tore the sword from Eto's grasp and snapped it, then picked the ronin up by the throat, holding him aloft despite the human's taller height, so his toes kicked against the surface of the water. His hands scrabbled at Inuyasha's as he tried to free himself, his throat gasping.
"Not so nice when it's happenin' to you, is it ya freak?!"
Kagome could hardly make out the words – Inuyasha's voice was distorted, deep, the volume and intensity pressing on her ears.
"Inuyasha…" Her voice came out as a raspy whisper around the gag, and she saw his ears swivel backwards at the sound of her voice. The ronin's feet began to slow their struggling, and Kagome felt conflicted. She wanted the ronin gone. She never wanted to see him again – after what she had learned from the villagers and after what he had almost done to her she had no qualms any longer. But her sense of modern justice still lingered. She didn't know what to do, whether she should try to calm Inuyasha or stay silent. Unwanted tears worked their way down her cheeks, and she couldn't help the small sob that worked it's way out of her damaged throat.
A snarl erupted from Inuyasha's lips, and without warning he hurled the ronin out into the river, like he was throwing away a piece of trash. He didn't even wait to see the man hit the water before he was back at Kagome's side.
His claws made quick work of the gag and the cord tying her hands. She reached trembling fingers up to touch the vibrant stripes patterning his high cheekbones, marvelling at his eyes. Red sclera and blue iris ringed by gold. Somehow, he had managed to hang on to his sanity by the skin of his teeth so that he could come to her aid.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, voice rasping, barely above a whisper. "I was so worried about that poison. Did Sango have an antidote?"
He shook his head, and without a word lifted her, cradling her against his chest, his nose tucked into her neck, breathing deeply, then walking away from the riverbank. It was a few moments before she realised they were headed not back to the village, but to the clearing where they had led the women and children.
"Inuyasha?"
"Need your bag", he rumbled. His voice was still deep with a rough edge to it, and slightly indistinct, no doubt due to him being unused to the more prominent fangs jutting out over his lip.
"But what about the others? Are they okay?" She wheezed a little, the roughness of voice making her cough.
"Shh. Fine. Saw Sango."
"But…"
"Hush Kagome. I need ta look after you right now."
--
Miroku was worried, the rings on his shakujo jingling as he paced backwards and forwards. Sango had not returned. There had been no sign of either Inuyasha or Kagome. Everyone was accounted for, apart from Eto and one mercenary, and there had only been minor injuries to the village men. It appeared that adding their fighting skills to the villagers had tipped the balance in their favour. He approached Kenta, the old man they had met in the forest.
"What are you going to do with these men?" he asked, indicating the large group of men sitting in a circle, tied together and being watched closely by a grumbling Kirara.
The older man was sitting down on a bench, taking a well deserved rest. He'd received a glancing blow to the head, and would have a fine bruise for his wife to fuss over when she saw him again, but was otherwise uninjured.
"Many of them are from the neighbouring village. We will send them back there, so that they can be judged by their own village council."
The rings on Miroku's shakujo jingled again. "And what of Eto, when we find him?"
The old man's expression hardened. "He will be ours to deal with."
Kirara purred suddenly, stretching and yawning, then jumped into the air and flew off in the direction of where they had seen the yellow smoke rising. Miroku breathed a sigh of relief. The smoke had been blown away by the breeze, so Sango must have whistled for her, knowing it would be safe for her nekomata friend to approach. It also hopefully meant that Sango herself was fine. He kept watch in that direction, eager to see the evidence for himself.
He didn't have to wait for long. Kirara touched down, with Sango sitting astride her, and an unconscious mercenary held by his collar in her fangs like a wayward kitten. She dropped him on the ground near the other bound men and then twitched her nose, sneezing suddenly and sticking out her tongue repeatedly, as if carrying him had left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Are you injured anywhere Sango?" asked Miroku, hurrying to her side. "Did you see Inuyasha and Kagome?"
Sango looked him worriedly as she jumped off Kirara's back, biting her lip. Kirara transformed into kitten size, and Sango held out her arms. Kirara immediately jumped up and snuggled against her, yawning and purring.
"I saw Inuyasha. He'd been affected by the youkai repellent, and Eto has taken Kagome."
"What are we waiting for, let's move!" Miroku was ready to run after their friends, but Sango shook her head. "He was having trouble Miroku. Even I could feel his youki rising. I think it would be better for us to stay away from Inuyasha for the moment, and get the women and children back to the village, as a precaution. He managed to overcome the youkai repellent by allowing his youki to rise. He has gone after them."
"But what about Kagome?"
"All he wanted was to save her Miroku. I am hoping that even in his fully youkai state, he will recognise Kagome as his chosen – that is what all his instincts have been leading towards. And what is his youkai state but pure instiinct? I am sure he will protect her."
They both looked back towards the forest, the densely packed trees revealing no secrets.
"Very well", Miroku sighed. He had wanted to be there for his friend, support him in avenging Kagome, but he would bow to Sango's superior knowledge in this case. "Let's move the women and children back to the village and out of harms way, just in case. And may Kannon have mercy on Eto's soul, because I am sure Inuyasha will have none."
--
Kagome lapsed into silence as Inuyasha cradled her in his strong arms. He had refused to put her down, and she decided to just let him have his way. His fangs had returned to their normal length, and the redness was receding from his eyes, but the blue iris and stripes on his cheeks remained.
When they emerged from the forest and Inuyasha strode into the clearing with Kagome in his arms, all the women immediately huddled around them. His irritated huff as he stooped to pick up Kagome's bag sent most of them scurrying backwards, but Haruna and her daughter remained, Akiko clinging to her mother's leg, with her baby snuggled tightly against her back in a wrap.
"What did he do to her?"
"Is she injured?"
"What can we do to help?"
He hoisted Kagome's backpack over one shoulder, her weight cradled against his chest with his other arm.
"Just let the monk and taijiya know that I am looking after Kagome, and that we'll return to the village soon." His words came out as harsh and guttural, but Kagome could sense that he was doing his best to keep his temper with them, he was just on edge. She reached up one hand to stroke his cheek, and he sighed, looking down at her face.
Haruna piped up. "There is a hot spring not too far to the east if she wants to wash", she said, her eyes full of concern. She bowed down low, her hands resting on her thighs. "You were injured helping our village. Please, don't hesitate to let Kenta or I know if there is any way that we can assist you. Whatever you need that we can offer is yours."
"Thankyou", Kagome whispered, her voice strained.
Before she could say any more, Inuyasha was off, and she recognised he was going in the same direction they went yesterday, probably to the same hot spring. Only yesterday, but so much had happened since then. She wasn't exactly sure how she should feel at the moment. Her emotions felt like they were swirling – the only one she could truly identify was a huge sense of relief that it was all over. That, and a feeling of safety. She felt safe being carried in Inuyasha's arms.
Before long they came again to the small hot spring. Inuyasha put her down on the flat rock at the water's edge gingerly, handling her like broken china that would shatter at the slightest touch, then squatted down in front of her, his eyes roving over her body looking for injuries.
"Inuyasha, I'm okay", she whispered.
He shook his head, his expression stern. "You made a promise to me Kagome. A promise that you would stay out of danger. What the fuck were you thinking? You nearly got yourself killed!"
"I couldn't bear to see him hurt Akiko when I could stop it", she began, her strained voice cracking a little, but he silenced her by placing a finger against her lips.
"Stop talking, you'll hurt your throat even more" His hands moved to cradle her cheeks, and he looked at her intently, the heat and heartbreak of his stare making her own eyes fill with tears. "What am I supposed to do with all these feelings Kagome? Am I supposed to be okay with this? Watching you break a promise and decide to sacrifice yourself right in front of me? Watch you walk off to nearly die?" She shook her head, her bottom lip beginning to tremble as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
He licked the tears away, then buried his nose into the soft skin directly underneath her ear, breathing in deeply, then sighing. "This conversation ain't over. We're gonna talk more about this when you're feelin' better." Kagome sighed too, but nodded. She knew he was going to be angry. She couldn't think of any other way she could have handled the situation though.
He pulled back, his eyes roving over her again, then tilted her head to try and get a closer look at the injury to her ear. There was too much dried blood for him to see it clearly. Cupping a little water in his hands, he rinsed her ear, his ears flattening as she winced.
"He bit you." His voice was hard again; and the blue flashed in his eyes; it seemed his anger was pulling his youkai a little closer to the surface again.
Kagome shrugged, unsure of what to say. She could see his jaw bunching as he tried to control his ire, then he dipped his head. She felt the warm soothing wetness of his tongue.
"Feels nice", she whispered, tilting her head to the side to make it easier for him. He licked at the re-opened cuts on her lips, and then his head dipped down further to place featherlight kisses on her neck, which just a short time before had been pale and unmarked, and was now wreathed in bruising finger marks.
"I can't do anything about the bruises", he said, his voice breaking a little. "I can't fix this."
Kagome thought back to what Sango had said last night, when she was explaining youkai scent marking to her. "You could help me take a bath?" she suggested, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss the centre of her palm. "Help me wash the pain and fear away Inuaysha."
He sighed, then tugged a little on her shirt, stained and ruined by mud where she had fallen at the riverbank and blood from her ear. "Is it okay if I take this off?"
She nodded, silently raising her arms to make it easier for him to pull the shirt off over her head.
"Fuck. I should a killed the bastard. I should a gutted him like a pig" he snarled when he saw the bruises to her ribs where she'd been punched. His fingers trailed over the purpled skin, feather light, and she shivered. Then her eyes widened as her brain processed the words he'd just spoken.
"You didn't kill him?"
"Fucker was still alive when I threw him in the river. Barely. The current was headed back towards the village. That's what you wanted wasn't it? For the villagers to deal with him?"
The smile Kagome gave him was brilliant. "Thank you", she whispered.
"Don't know why you're thankin' me." His voice was still gravelled around the edges, still a little deeper than usual. "He deserved death Kagome."
She nodded. "I know. But I also think you did the right thing."
--
Sango and Miroku were gathering together a small party of men to help walk the women and children safely back to the village, most of them husbands and fathers. There was a yell from the river bank. A lookout had spotted a body floating downstream, drifting in the centre of the current. Miroku and Kenta ran to find out what was going on, while Sango began to lead the men in the direction of the clearing, Miroku promising to catch up in a moment.
"It's Eto", someone shouted. "Should we pull him in?"
"Let him drown", yelled another.
The seemingly lifeless body suddenly thrashed, the head rising up to gasp deep breaths of air. Eto's arms windmilled in the water as he struggled to get to shore.
Kenta stooped to pick up a sizeable rock from the riverbank, a rounded egg shape the size of his palm, smoothed by the river's flow. He hefted it in his hand, testing its weight, then threw it towards Eto, where it glanced against the side of his cheek. Another villager picked up a stone and hurled it, and then another. Eto would sink under the water, blood from his injuries spilling in the river, but then he would rise up again, only to be hit by more stones thrown by the village men. Eventually he did not rise again.
"Judgement has been made", said Kenta firmly, crossing his arms.
Silently, Miroku folded his hands in prayer, thankful the whole affair had finally been dealt with, and then hurried off to find Sango, ready to assist the men in getting their families back home.
--
Inuyasha helped Kagome to ease off the rest of her clothing, his face full of worried concern. When he pulled away her bra, after she'd shown him how to release the front opening clasp, and bent his head so he could inspect the bruising that travelled up above her ribs closer, she froze. For a moment she wanted to pull away and hide, the memory of Eto grinding against her with that sick leer on his face rising up and superimposing itself over the beloved face in front of her. But Inuyasha was not Eto. Could never be him. Even though she stood mostly naked before him, the way he was looking at her was not sexual. He wasn't leering. He didn't look at her like she was purely for his pleasure alone, a thing to be used and discarded. Lust was not driving his actions, only his need to care for her, to wash away her pain, ease her hurts, to build the closeness that was still developing between them.
She tugged on his suikan. "Can you take this off."
"Are you sure?" he said. No doubt he'd smelt that moment of fear, and she smiled.
"You're not him", she said softly, resting her forehead against his chest, and feeling his arms wrap up around her. "I could never be afraid of you Inuyasha. I just want to feel close to you, as close as I can be."
He shrugged off his clothing quickly, stripping down to his fundoshi, ignoring her sudden dismay as she finally noticed his wounded arm. It was an injury that was rapidly healing and that he'd mostly forgotten about. He took her hand, helping her into the water.
Inuyasha sat down in the spring, pulling her into his lap, his arms holding her close, and she sighed against him, surrounded by the warmth of the water and the heat of his arms and chest. She was safe.
"Does your throat still hurt?" he asked. She nodded, and he bent his head, tilting her chin back, sniffing carefully. "I can't smell any blood clotting, so I think it's just bruised on the outside. But if ya have trouble breathing, you gotta let me know okay, so I can take you back through the well."
Kagome shook her head. "I don't want to go back home looking like this", she whispered. "Mama will worry."
Inuyasha grumbled, tapping his finger softly on the forehead in reprimand, then kissing the spot softly. "Idiot. She already worries Kagome. She wouldn't be your mother if she didn't."
Kagome turned her head into his chest, and he sighed, letting it go for now. For the moment, he was content to sit with her, cradle her in his arms. He could still feel his youkai form simmering underneath his skin, ready to leap forward to protect her if necessary. He didn't want to think about that too much at the moment, and the risk he'd taken. He had always feared his instincts, feared the unknown, and perhaps that had been part of the problem. But until Kagome was ready to move, he was content to stay here with her, and focus his attention totally on her.
When she was ready, he washed her with the soap from her pack, cleaning away everything until she smelt only of herself. Thankfully, Mama had remembered to pack the non-scented soap and shampoo, so there was nothing to mask what he needed. He dried her carefully, then helped her into the loosest clothes in her pack, the ones she often wore to bed at night. Then he picked up his fire rat and pulled it over her shoulders. Kagome couldn't help but smile at him.
"A little overkill, don't you think?" she whispered teasingly.
"Nope."
--
When they returned to the village, Miroku and Sango were waiting anxiously for them, crowding Inuyasha as he carried Kagome snugly in his arms, bundled in his fire rat over her clothes. She looked bruised and tired, but peaceful.
"Inuyasha, it's perfectly safe to put me down now", she whispered. He ignored her, tightening his arms around her protectively.
"That fucker dead?", rasped Inuyasha to Miroku, a hint of blue ringing his pupils and youkai markings flaring on his cheeks. Miroku took a step back cautiously, then nodded the affirmative.
"I assume you tossed him in the river for the villagers to find?" Inuyasha nodded, a low growl leaking past his clenched teeth.
"Then rest assured, the matter has been taken care of. Judgement has been passed, and any trouble he tries now will be confined to one of Enma Daiou's hell cauldrons."
"The outsiders that he hired to do his dirty work?" asked Inuyasha.
"Taken to the next village, where judgement will be passed on them also."
"What", Kagome whispered, her voice trembling a little, "what about that woman?" Miroku raised his eyebrows in puzzlement, and Sango made a soft noise of recognition, stepping forward to squeeze Kagome's hand.
"Her name was", Kagome closed her eyes, trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart, "her name was Aguri."
"It appears mistress Aguri decided that she needed a change of scenery", said Kenta, moving out of the shadows, and bowing low before them. "I do not know where she went, but it is doubtful she will be returning."
Kagome slumped in relief in Inuyasha's arms, and he rumbled soothingly, rubbing his cheek on top of her freshly washed hair. "It's all over Kagome. Don't cry saiai, it's all over."
Mama Higurashi chopped the vegetables for the evening dinner, doing her best to keep busy. The kitchen had never been so spotless – she'd sorted the pantry, cleaned the oven, taken everything off the high shelves and scrubbed them down. Grandpa had chuckled in amusement at her sudden burst of 'spring cleaning' even though it was almost autumn, commenting that if she wished to extend her cleaning frenzy to his storeroom, he would not object.
The truth was, she was almost beside herself with worry. It was either constantly keep her hands busy with chores, or sit in the well house with them folded in prayer. She trusted Kagome. She trusted Inuyasha too, but something had happened. She just had a feeling, based on Inuyasha's last visit three days ago, even though he hadn't said anything specific. But she knew. Something had happened.
"Mama?"
Kagome's hesitant voice from the doorway had her dropping the knife instantly and running to her daughter, embracing her in a tight hug. She was bruised and battered, but alive.
"See, told ya she'd be worryin' about ya. It's what Mama's do." Inuyasha made to take a step backward to give the mother and daughter space, but Mama was not having it. Her arm shot out to drag him into her embrace as well, ignoring Inuyasha's squawk of surprise, and Kagome's tearful giggle.
"You're both safe", she murmured, hugging them tighter. Her prayers had been answered.
--
And it's done! This was meant to be a one shot. And it turned into a novella. This is the story of my fanfic writing life. I hope you enjoyed it. And thank you so much to whoever nominated this story for Best Canon Fiction for the 2nd Quarter of the Feudal Connection Awards, and to all those who voted for it. I was so pleased and proud to find out it had won!
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fanficmepage · 4 years
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Chapter 3
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It's been two weeks since Raven has been home. She settled in quite nicely, everything fit her just right with a bit of room to grow into. Her favorite toy had become some small egg shakers, playing with the fox shaped one the most. She can’t quite grip it yet, but she enjoys the noise. Although her father’s finger still seems to be the one thing she prefers to hold. Raven even tried to put his finger in her mouth to Bruce’s dismay. Speaking of Bruce, he went back to his day job after a week with great hesitance. He knows Raven will be perfectly fine with Alfred, but she always seemed so attached to Bruce. It took the first week home to get Raven to be bottle-fed by Alfred, but she would stare at her father the entire time. 
As for his nightly activities, he would still patrol, just weigh on the side of caution a bit more. He frequently would call the cave for updates, as if there weren't cameras around the mansion. Bruce did not like the idea of Raven down in the cave, that didn’t stop Alfred from setting up a portable playpen next to Bruce’s computer. Away from the workbench but close enough so Alfred can see her as he works as well. Even if neither liked the idea, it was necessary, Bruce needed Alfred down with him and Alfred needed Raven close. Raven didn’t seem to mind all that much, she liked watching the bright light of the screens and water raining down. Both men made sure Raven couldn’t see the graphic images that would pop up on the screen by either holding her away or covering the pen with a blanket. Another concern of her father’s was the climate of the cave. No matter what season, the cave was constantly chilly. Raven was thoroughly bundled up, nice warm onesie with a hood and fluffy gray blanket with extras just in case she gets colder. After Bruce found her, he did not want another trip to the hospital.
Raven had developed a bit from the time at the hospital. She began to start making sounds, her first one being a sneeze. She also tends to grunt when she can’t get the nipple of the bottle into her mouth. That was usually joined with the tiniest glare as she drank the formula. Raven still never cried for anything. The doctor said this sometimes occurs, Bruce and Alfred just have to pay a bit closer attention to her scheduling. Raven would eat every two and a half hours, play for about an hour or so, then fall back asleep after half an hour of rocking. That did cause some moments of frustration, they would think she finally fell asleep but her eyes were wide open when she got put back in the crib.  It didn’t help that she would smile at them. Bruce knows she will be troublesome but just too cute to be upset with. Alfred has suggested having Raven sleep in the same bed as him during the times of difficulty putting her down. This came after one sight Alfred will never forget. 
Bruce had just come home from patrol late into the night just as Raven was about to sleep. Bruce after removing the suit took her up to put her to bed, rocking her gently. Alfred stayed behind to finish up some filing. Knowing Bruce will have a bit of a hard time, he decided to check on them one last time before sleeping himself. The last thing he expected was to see his sudo son and granddaughter in the crib together, Bruce’s legs hanging out the side.
“Master Bruce,” pausing to find the right words, “what are you doing exactly?” 
“She wouldn’t sleep unless I held her, this was the only option,” Bruce groaned. Alfred walked closer just to get the answer Bruce didn’t say. Bruce was on his back with the stuffed owl folded in half as a makeshift pillow. Raven laid face down on his torso. Her tiny hands gripped his shirt as hard as she could with the rise and fall of his chest. She kept her yellow binky in her mouth, gently sucking as she slept. Bruce turned his head towards Alfred, “I hope this doesn’t become a common occurrence, this isn’t the most comfortable position to sleep in.”
“Maybe we can get one of those baby body pillows for her to lay in when she has difficulty sleeping alone. It’s common for parents to let the child sleep in the bed with them.”
“Maybe, just don’t want to roll onto her or when she can roll off the bed.”
“She will be fine, Master Bruce. You already wake up to the slightest noise. It seems your new-found parental instincts kicked in. With how alert you are, our little bird is in perfect hands. Try to get a little comfortable Master Bruce, goodnight.” And with that Alfred left, not trying to hide the smile growing. Never once since Bruce had put on the cowl that he would ever become a grandfather. But here they are, starting a new family all because of that special little girl. There was only one concern: a mother. Bruce and he can raise the girl on their own, but two men can’t replace a maternal figure. Raven needs a mother, a female figure, to guide her. It's not like Bruce hasn’t had women in his life. Selena had come to mind when he thought of a mother. No other women really have gotten close to Bruce’s heart. Their relationship was still new, it was too soon to think about co-parenting. Even then, Batman wouldn’t allow real relationships, he knew this. Yet, she was still scheduled to arrive for dinner the next evening. Alfred would argue against this seeing as this will only lead to disaster, but it's hard to argue with that man sometimes, even if Alfred raised him. 
The day goes the same, Alfred wakes up first and goes to prepare everyone’s breakfast while Bruce wakes up and gets Raven and himself ready for the day. Bruce would get dressed first while Raven was put on his bed. Then his attempt to get her into an onesie. He fights many criminals but the hardest one is keeping Raven still enough to get her dressed and swaddled. 
“Every time you do this makes me wonder how the nurses did this in hospital, princess,” he whispered to her as he lifted her into his arms. Raven immediately reached for his tie and pulled into her mouth. Bruce pulled it back for Raven to only replace it with his hand, “I know you’re hungry, angel, just a minute, no need to eat my hand.”
Bruce turned at the sound of a chuckle in the doorway, Alfred walked in with a warmed bottle in hand, “someone is as impatient as her father.”
“Hasn’t even been here for two weeks and she is already taking after me?” Bruce chuckled, giving Raven her formula, her reaching to hold it, “not quite strong enough for that princess. Don’t rush it, you have plenty of time.”
“Already wishing her to never grow up? You are sounding like your father.”
“Maybe, hopefully, I can be half the man he was for her. Not like I can be both parents.”
“Moving on sir, Ms. Kyle will be here for dinner, Master Bruce, I assume you remember making that arrangement?” Alfred knew full well he did not remember. 
“I assume that it is too late to cancel? It might be best to wait a bit.”
“If you are concerned about the little bird, I will gladly watch our little bird while you enjoy your evening. Parents do deserve some breaks.” Bruce wasn’t too sure but no reasonable excuse to cancel.  Selina would have to find out about Raven eventually, but will their relationship go anywhere. He knows about her nightly activities, but she will never know about Batman. No one will ever know if he could keep Raven from it he would. It’s a solitary life he chose. Well, maybe not so solitaire with Alfred and Raven. 
After a long day of meetings and coming home to what seemed to be a grumpy baby, Bruce started to get on board with the short break. Raven would probably be asleep for most of it anyway. He already put her to sleep in his arms just about ten minutes before his date. He and Alfred will see how long that lasts. Bruce slightly hoped to see Alfred in the same position he was in last night. What’s a couple of hours spending time with a woman gonna do?
“Ms. Kyle is here sir. I’ll take our little bird, dinner is already set, please enjoy your evening,” without giving Bruce a chance to further protest Alfred disappearing into the hallway. And so the night shall begin.
After two hours, Bruce finally relaxed a bit. Had some wine, talked about work; finally connected with someone in a somewhat personal way.
“You know, Bruce,” Selina laughed, grazing his forearm with her fingertips, “this isn’t what I expected.”
“I do tend to prefer home dinner dates. More intimate, allows me to get to know someone a bit better,” this evident lie. He just wanted to stay by Raven, just in case, “I hope that isn’t a problem?”
“Of course not, unless you planned there to be a bit more intimacy than just, ‘getting to know someone?’”
“Well, that would depend on-”
As Bruce leaned in closer, a loud cry can be heard from the baby monitor Alfred had wired in the kitchen. Then the sound of glass breaking. Before Selina had time to question, Bruce was halfway down the hall. Listening to the sounds of once mute infant grow louder.
Hey guys, thank you for sticking around and reading my au. I love to here from you all and I am quite curious, which batman do you imagine in this? I mean like Patterson, Affleck, West, etc.
Photo by Tuva Mathilde Løland on Unsplash
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unholyhelbig · 4 years
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Au where Hope and Lizzie have to take their kids to the doctors but Hope is afraid of needles.
Read on Ao3 | Send Me More Legacies Prompts! 
Title: You’re Afraid of Needles? 
Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Lizzie Saltzman 
Every doctor’s office looked the same to Lizzie Saltzman; those plain puke colored walls, and carpet that was a dark enough shade to hide any accidents. There were mahogany tables dedicated to educational brochures and posters on the wall about how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.
This office was fancier. It had leather couches and a large bay window lead to the small, yet charming town, of Mystic Falls. The blinds were slit just enough to let some light in to counter that sharp buzzing of fluorescents. A small table crowded with broken crayons and printed pages of mazes and cartoon characters sat in the corner- but Lizzie had a tight grip on Andi regardless. Her arms wrapped tightly as the three-year-old wiggled in her lap.
The words ‘Doctor Elena Salvatore’ cast a backward shadow over the carpet as a flat cloud blocking the sun finally shifted and created a warmer feeling in the office. Hope squinted at the clipboard and stopped scribbling with her pen.
“What’s her social security number? She’s three; does she even have a social security number? Are we bad parents because we don’t know it?” Hope gulped in sterile air, eyes darting around the waiting room “Oh my god what’s my social security number?”
Lizzie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Hope Mikaelson was unbeatable; she had plunged her fingers deep into the chest cavities of monsters twelve times her size. Had marched headfirst into a war between the living and the dead- had thrown herself into a bubbling black pit of goo to save the fragile history of humanity, and god, Hope Mikaelson was afraid of the doctors.
She always had been, and Lizzie just didn’t have the apprehension to notice.
When they were at the Salvatore School, Hope would take the long way around the corridors just to avoid the wandering eye of the nurse. Even after the plunging touch of cupids brother had splattered blood across the nice hardwood floors- she still refused actual medical treatment.
And even more so when the two of them accepted the fact that they both wanted more out of life and started the process of having children. Six years of marriage and a lifetime of adventures slowly trickled into a home life in the very town that they were raised in.
Hope had braved her fear of hospitals when Lizzie’s water broke in the middle of the night but had sworn off of anything of the sorts for the last three years. Lizzie was the one to take Andi to her shots, and to checkups, but this time was different- this time Andi had a nasty cold and wouldn’t let Lizzie put her down for more than three seconds at a time, unless, of course, there were crayons involved.
“Hope, darling, skip that question.” Lizzie said tenderly.
“Right, yeah. What’s her address?”
The taller of the two groaned dramatically and snatched the clipboard from her wife before placing Andi in her lap to fill the void. Hopes arms naturally curled around her daughter as she pulled her close, despite the runny nose and shivering coughs. Besides, Hope was immune to this kind of thing- Lizzie could still get whatever cold was running through the house this time.
The girls stark blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails with a pink scrunchie and a light blue one, a pair of clear glasses that she liked to pull off her nose constantly were securely strapped around her head with a band that Lizzie accessorized as only she could.
She sniffled and hugged her close while Lizzie handed the clipboard back to the receptionist, whizzing through the next four questions where Hope stumbled on just the first. Her legs bounced nervously in an untamed bout of anxiety. Hope wanted to shift and run and Lizzie squeezed her shoulder to ground her, though, the only thing her wife could focus on was the poster of a kitten hanging from a tree.
Hope’s entire body tensed when someone in dark blue scrubs called their names and beaconed them to walk through a squeaky wooden door. Andi had to be lured onto the metal scale with the promise of some form of candy before burying her cold nose against the inside of Lizzie’s neck, allowing the taller woman to scoop her up.
They were led into an exam room at the end of the hall and told to wait. Hope stared at the door like a caged animal, pacing a hole into the floor as their daughter kicked her feet and crinkled against the wax paper. The nurse had given her a tongue depressor and it was enough to entertain her, if not for a moment.
“What are they going to do?” Hope stuck her nails in her mouth, tempted to chew them.
Lizzie started to regret her decision to bring her wife along but detested the thought of slapping one of those fuzzy monkey backpacks on her daughter to keep her from spreading her germs. She gave a slight smile and stopped Hope from pacing with two steady hands on her shoulders.
“They’re going to listen to her lungs,” Lizzie guessed “and then they’re going to give her medicine to make her all better. Nothing scary- Andi isn’t even scared, see?”
Her daughter gave her a toothy and distracted grin at the sound of her name before she went back to her stick. Hope let her shoulders slump as she fell into Lizzie’s arms, groaning into her sweater “What is it, darling? The white coats?”
“They’re just freaky” Hope answered, words muffled “Who willingly goes through that much school to get sneezed on and oh my god, the student debt.”
A slight knock came at the door and Hope tensed, the two of them parted, harmoniously moving to the side of the table. Hope felt instinctive, pulling her daughters' tiny fingers into her own. Andi nearly growled at the distraction from the popsicle stick, but quickly forgot when the doctor revealed her beaming smile. She let the door fall behind her before sticking out a hand. “Hi, I’m Doctor Donovan”
“Lizzie, and this is Hope.”
Her wife seemed to stumble through the introductions fine enough and only edged forward twice with the doctor pressed a metal stethoscope against her daughters back. Lizzie held a firm hand on her shoulder through it all.
“All right miss Andi, you were really brave.” Doctor Donovan said, placing the instrument back around her neck before sitting back. “Mom’s she seems to have a bit of a sinus infection going on, nothing too scary. We can give her some antibiotics and she’ll be good to go.”
Hope seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“We'll just take care of that shot and send you guys on your way."
“The what?” all of the color seemed to drain from Hope's face.
“We don’t have any oral medicine to give her,” Doctor Donovan stood and started to fish through the white cabinets. She pulled a glass vile down, and then Andi seemed to bring enough air into her lungs to make her chest ache. She reached blindly for Hope's hand again and little nails dug into her palm. “It’s a series of two shots, but she doesn’t need the other one for another week.”
Something close to a whimper sounded as the doctor pulled some serum into the syringe. She turned towards the three of them and Hope suddenly felt her heart in her chest. Andi’s cheeks were quickly stained in tears and her cheek.
“She’s afraid of needles,” Hope explained, trying to keep her own voice level.
As if to drive her point home, Andi started wailing, loud like any child in the face of a needle would. Hope pulled her closer to muffle the noise and glanced at Lizzie helplessly because deep down the both of them knew that no amount of bargaining or comfort could quell the snot or the trembling lip. Hope pulled away and knelt close to her.
“Sweetie, hey-“ Hope held the girls arms, “Pay attention for a second, okay?”
Andi hiccupped twice and dragged her arm against the base of her nose. Lizzie fought back a smile because she liked this, liked when Hope talked to their three-year-old as if she were a tiny adult.
“What if I got one too? It doesn’t’ hurt, I promise. And I bet you’ll even get a really cool band-aid.”
“Oh you will,” Doctor Donavan confirmed, “It’s purple.”
Andi looked at the three of them skeptically but slowly nodded, accepting the fact that there was no getting out of this. Hope slowly let it set in too, she shed her jacket and rolled up her sleeve- because yeah, needles were scary but so was seeing her daughter upset.
Hope steeled her jaw and clenched her eyes shut as Doctor Donovan slathered alcohol against her arm, cool and calming. Hope waited for the countdown, and the painful prick, but instead focused on the fact that Lizzie slid her fingers into her hand.
“All right, mom is all done.” The doctor said with a smile and Hope propped one eye open carefully, staring down at the big purple band-aid because she hadn’t even felt that. “That wasn’t so scary, right?”
“Not at all,” her voice trembled but Andi didn’t notice, instead she was transfixed on the giant purple adhesive that she wanted to get her hands on, shot or not. “A real piece of cake”
Lizzie wrapped her arm around Hope's waist, fingers resting against her hip “That was very brave of you, Hope.”
“Oh you know,” her words came out breathy, because her arms throbbed, even with Lizzie’s touch. “Saving the world one flu shot at a time”
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ezrisdax-archive · 4 years
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B'Elanna comes down with Ankaran flu, of all people she expected to show up every day Seven wasn't on that list.
Doesn't mean she can't get used to it. (also here on ao3)
~~
The problem with being on Voyager, on top of the many many things that kept going wrong, was that it was easy to pick up a cold or something from someone else when it came around.
B’Elanna found herself bitterly cursing Carey since she’d obviously got the Ankaran flu from him. But he’d bounced back and was taking care of her – her! – engines now.
Normally her Klingon side did her some good and allowed her to recover faster than her compatriots did but the Ankaran flu had never sat well with her.
Just like lying down and doing nothing for days didn’t even as feverish as she was.
Honestly it was because of the fever that she has assumed the Seven standing in front of her was nothing but a weird dream.
Except she wasn’t going away, just standing there.
“What are you doing here?” B’Elanna asked, finally tired of the staring.
“I was informed by Ensign Kim that you would do better getting ‘well wishes’ from your favourite people.” Even as Seven said it she had that minute twitch, the kind she got when she thought that the Voyager crew was being overly emotional and illogical.
It was no wonder she and Tuvok got along.
“Therefore,” Seven continued, clasping her hands behind her back. “Get better.”
“You’re my least favourite anything.” B’Elanna replied, burying herself further into the mountains of pillows that Neelix had stacked around her. Her tone lacked the usual bite though and Seven could clearly tell since she just raised an eyebrow.
“By process of elimination I assume I must be your favourite ex-borg.”
“By process of elimination you’re also my least favourite.” B’Elanna snarked. “Also you’re beaten out there by Icheb.”
“Ah.” Seven didn’t look affected at all and in her head B’Elanna cursed her cold attitude. Just once she wanted to rattle Seven, see a different side of her, get her to react.
“Guess that makes me your favourite and least favourite Klingon by that logic though.” B’Elanna said, mostly just to herself.
“You are correct in that assessment.”
B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Whose your favourite human then?”
Seven didn’t answer, surprising her enough that B’Elanna frowned at her with concern.
“I’m joking Seven, you don’t have to answer that.”
Whatever awkward moment there was it was broken when she got a sneezing fit. She reached over to grab the tissues that Harry had replicated for her but growled in annoyance when she saw the box was empty and threw it at the wall.
It barely got halfway thanks to her tired muscles.
“Here.” Seven held up what must have been a freshly replicated batch.
“Thanks.” B’Elanna muttered and took them, under her breath cursing Carey and the Doctor and because really how could he cure Tom and Kathryn from being lizards that one time but couldn’t fix the flu?
“I believe that is because it is adaptive.” Seven said, answering her rhetoric question.
B’Elanna glared at her with bleary eyes.
“You appear to need sleep.” Seven said as she straightened up, halfway an observation and halfway an annoying order.”
“I’m not sleeping with you creepily watching.”
“Very well.” Seven nodded, “I will see you later.” She paused. “Get well soon, Lieutenant Torres.”
B’Elanna just waved tiredly at her, not bothering to answer.
She’d just see Seven when she got back to her station and then hear all about how borg nanites were superior or something.
Weirdly she was looking forward to that.
~~
Seven was back again and B’Elanna really was having a fever dream. She had to be. There was no way Seven would return the next day to a situation she had no control over.
“Did you bring me soup?” B’Elanna asked, blinking at the tray in Seven’s hands.
“It is high in nutrients.”
“Oh good for it.” B’Elanna huffed, “I was concerned about that.”
Seven didn’t take the bait, just set the tray down in front of her.
The tray that wasn’t going away just like Seven.
Not a dream.
B’Elanna took the spoon, squinting at the soup just one more time in case the hallucinations had gotten the best of her.
“Thanks.” She said quietly, trying to surreptitiously glance up at Seven.
Seven’s eyebrows rose slightly in her surprise and the corners of her lips twitched in something that might have been a smirk but she was quick to school her expression back to calm indifference.
It was too bad really, B’Elanna thought, a smirk was close enough to a smile and Seven looked good like that.
She froze at the thought after a second and shook her head.
Really the fever was getting to her.
When she woke up a few hours later she had a memory of the soup, the taste of it in her mouth, but the tray and Seven were gone and blankets had been wrapped around her where they’d been kicked to the bottom of the bed before.
~~
“Review this.” Seven said as a greeting the next day, pushing a padd into her hands.
The words swam on the screen when B’Elanna looked down at it. She was beginning to feel queasy looking at it but swallowed it down.
“What’s wrong, Seven? Can’t handle things without me?” B’Elanna couldn’t resist taunting even as she swayed a little.
The padd was tugged out of her hands despite B’Elanna’s protest.
“I can see it will need to wait.” Seven was frowning down at her again. Then she whirled and walked over to the replicator, coming back with a glass of water. “You need the hydration.”
B’Elanna took the glass, swallowing some of it and then pressing the cool glass against her cheek to alleviate some of the heat.
“You are not getting better.” Seven stated. “I will inform the Doctor.”
The glass was mercifully plucked from her grasp before B’Elanna spilled it on her by falling backwards into her pillows.
“Tell him to fix this.” B’Elanna said, her words slightly slurred by her exhaustion. “Cause you need me back.”
It wasn’t until she woke up later that she realized Seven hadn’t argued that fact.
~~
“She keeps coming by.” B’Elanna said to Harry the next day.
Harry didn’t bother to hide his amused grin. “You should hear her in Engineering. Carey keeps ducking out when she comes in because she keeps finding flaws in his work. Apparently it’s not as adequate as yours.”
“Seven finds flaws in everything.” B’Elanna said, refusing to feel somewhat charmed by that. “Including my work.” Which grated on her constantly, she knew what she was doing.
“Right.” Harry leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. “Except I haven’t heard the two of you fighting over your quality of work in months.”
That was…true. Their arguments of late had just been about the better way of going about B’Elanna’s plans rather than the idea of them.
“Guess Seven’s learned to appreciate some flaws.” Harry continued, still grinning at her.
B’Elanna narrowed her eyes even as she was certain with how red rimmed they were it lacked the effect she was going for. “You’re delusional, Starfleet.”
“I’m not the one with the fever.”
“And I’m still thinking straighter than you are.”
~~
Soup, B’Elanna had learned, lost its appeal rather quickly.
Which was why when Seven brought toast the next night B’Elanna actually made a delighted noise.
“It appears you are feeling better. The medication the Doctor administered must be the correct treatment.”
“Go Doc,” B’Elanna cheered with fake enthusiasm as she tore into the toast.
“You should be well enough soon to return to your duties.”
B’Elanna paused and looked up at Seven. “Did you miss me or something, Seven?” Her conversation with Harry came back to her with easier clarity.
Now she could even see that there was just the slightest of pink in Seven’s cheeks.
“In your absence the work has been lacking.” Seven eventually said after the silence went on too long.
“Uh hunh.” B’Elanna said doubtfully. “It’s nice to be missed.” She grinned sharply. “Guess someone can keep up with that brain borg of yours after all.”
Seven got that annoyed look on her face that B’Elanna could only tell because she’d been watching Seven’s face for reactions for so long. To anyone else the changes would have been minute and unnoticeable.
“If that is what you wish to tell yourself to feel better you may.” Seven said, her tone a little icier.
“I will, thanks.” B’Elanna kept grinning, feeling better than she had in days.
Seven gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take my leave, since you are better.”
It wasn’t what B’Elanna had been hoping for and she sighed as Seven turned away, “Seven, wait.” She called out, and scowled as Seven’s back. “Look,” B’Elanna continued and ran a hand through her hair and made a face at how sweaty it felt. She needed a shower and how Seven could stand to be around her like this when she’d made her displeasure on the unhygienic form of sick people clear she had no idea. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It is just nice to be missed.”
Seven turned her head back, looking over her shoulder at B’Elanna. She looked like she was struggling with her words again before she finally said, “It is not just your work that has been missed.”
Without another word she strode out of B’Elanna’s quarters, leaving B’Elanna blinking in surprise and staring at the spot where Seven had been.
“Damn.” B’Elanna sound out loud. “Starfleet was right.”
She’d never tell Harry.
~~
It took her another two days to be cleared by the Doctor who had given her a lecture on health that B’Elanna had tuned out for the most part.
She got ready that morning feeling energized, ready to get back to her engines and see what messes had been made while she was gone.
When she walked out her door however she stopped, seeing Seven standing there awkwardly.
“I was informed you were cleared for duty.” Seven said, she held out some padds for B’Elanna to take. “I have made several reports regarding incidents made while you were gone.”
B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “At least let me have breakfast first Seven.” B’Elanna groused but took the padds. She hesitated before reading them however and looked over at Seven. “You could join me.”
Seven’s eyes flickered over towards her, curious.
“I got lunches and dinners with you these past few days, well.” B’Elanna amended. “I ate while you stood creepily. I figure I’m owed a breakfast too.”
Slowly Seven inclined her head in what might have been a nod of agreement. B’Elanna clapped her on the shoulder, grinning.
“Good, you can tell your favourite Klingon, who you missed so much, how much you missed me again.” B’Elanna said, her spirits lifting in the moment.
Seven’s lips pursed in annoyance.
“I have observed Voyager’s crew over the last few days and come to a conclusion.” Seven clasped her hands behind her and started to walk, forcing B’Elanna to rush forward to keep up.
“Is it that you missed me?” B’Elanna teased again.
“That among the crew’s members you are unique.”
“Oh.” B’Elanna said numbly, taken aback by the sudden confession.
“It is not something I would have appreciated before. Your absence has made me value it even more.”
“Oh.” B’Elanna said again, swallowing. She leaned in as they walked, pressing her shoulder against Seven’s arm. “I appreciate you visiting me. It was nice. But I could do with dinners where we both eat.”
Seven stopped suddenly, making B’Elanna stop too. She stared down at B’Elanna, “You are proposing we take meals together.”
“I’m proposing dates, Seven, get with the program.” B’Elanna replied, a little agitated that Seven hadn’t picked up where she was going and feeling far too open.
Seven’s cheeks were just that slightest tinge of pink again, B’Elanna was beginning to find it more than just charming.
“Very well. As you have stated, breakfast is viable start.” Seven took a breath and began to walk again.
B’Elanna caught up with her once more, her fingers brushing against Seven’s.
“I lied before you know. You are my favourite ex-borg, no offense to Icheb.”
“I will inform him of such.”
“Seven, no. Don’t tell the kid that, it’s a joke.” B’Elanna’s fingers twitched when Seven’s ran against her own, feeling an urge to just grasp them. “But you never answered who your favourite human is.”
Seven glanced over. “You are half human.”
There was a warmth that spread through her and B’Elanna ducked her head to hide her smile. She reached over, taking the chance to grab Seven’s hand anyway just for that.
From the corner of her eye she could see the smallest smile on Seven’s lips and that was a reaction she could definitely get used to.
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lyssismagical · 4 years
Text
paint me in trust, i’ll be your best friend
Febufluff Day 1 & 2 - Snuggles & Rainy Day {Parkner}
Read on AO3
*
Peter wakes to the sound of rain bouncing harmlessly off his window.
For a few moments of absolute solitude, that’s all he does. Watches the rain clinging to his window, racing their way to the bottom.
His breaths are even, no fear hanging onto his bones, no remnants of nightmares playing out before his eyes, no worries filling his head. Just simplicity and peace.
Harley’s arms tighten around his waist, maybe somehow knowing Peter had woken up, and slowly blinks his eyes open, gazing down at Peter with a squinted expression.
“You ‘kay?” he asks, voice rough from only just waking up. His arms are tight around Peter and his eyes only shine with concern, no nightmares on his end either.
Peter smiles up at his boyfriend, resting his head on Harley’s chest to continue looking out the window at the cloudy sky.
“Yeah, I’m good… Really good,” he murmurs against Harley’s warm skin. “Guess the weather means no Spider-Man?”
Harley squeezes him. “It’s comforting to know you’re aware I’d never let you out in weather like this.”
“A little rain never hurt anybody,” Peter says, but the acceptance is clear in his voice. He doesn’t really want to leave either.
It’s still early, sun barely peeking over the horizon through the clouds, but they don’t bother falling back to sleep. They’d gone to bed early the night before after a long week of hard working.
They’re both at MIT, their last year before they’ll be graduating and taking over Stark Industries full-time. Harley works as a mechanic, mostly odd hours, and Peter works at the library. Between their jobs, their classes, their homework, and Peter’s Spider-Manning, it’s been tough week after tough week after tough week.
It’s nice to just lay in bed, limbs entangled beneath a pile of soft blankets, and watch the rain fall outside their window.
Peter grabs Harley’s hand, one of the two wrapped around his waist, and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
“Love you,” he murmurs, blinking up at Harley who grins dopily down at him.
“Love you too, darlin’.”
Eventually, they do have to drag their way out of bed. It’s not possible, especially with Peter’s grumbling stomach, to stay tucked away from the world for all of Sunday.
Harley had laughed when Peter’s stomach wouldn’t stop making noises, pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s forehead, before stretching to get up.
Harley makes the batter, falling for Peter’s puppy dog eyes when he asks for chocolate chips, and Peter’s the one who cooks them. It’s a simple system, but it means a lot to them. The first time they hung out, they made pancakes just like they are now. Pancakes are like a little tradition to them.
Harley wraps his arms around Peter from behind as the hero sleepily starts working on cooking the pancakes, pressing little kisses to Peter’s neck and shoulders.
“I should write that paper I’ve been procrastinating,” Peter says, leaning back into Harley’s warmth.
But Harley just rests his forehead against Peter’s shoulder and smiles. “Another time?”
Rolling his eyes, Peter tries his best to bite back a smile. “Yeah… Another time.”
As soon as the pancakes are finished, they curl back up on the couch together, tugging an old quilt over their legs and putting Jeopardy on the TV.
It’s another one of their little traditions to watch Jeopardy together. They have a little competition to see who can get more right answers, faster than the contestants. They almost always tie, but it’s still a fun game. If somebody loses, they’re the one who has to do the dishes that day.
“That’s not fair!” Harley exclaims when Peter gets an answer before him. “My mouth was full!”
Peter laughs, rolling his eyes. “That’s just how the game works, Keener. You snooze, you lose… Or, well, you chews, you lose.”
“That’s not even grammatically correct,” the older boy whines, grabbing a bite of Peter’s pancakes. “Therefore, you lose a point.”
“You lose a point for saying therefore unironically,” Peter says.
Instead of arguing, Harley just pushes a forkful of pancakes into Peter’s mouth and shouts out the answer of the next question.
“That’s cheating,” Peter pouts, swallowing the food. “It doesn’t count.”
Harley tries to hide his smile, but his eyes are so bright, so lively, that it’s hard not to notice. “Fine, you win, Parker. I’ll do the dishes later.”
He starts pulling away from Peter to start on the piles of dishes on their counter, from days upon days of saying they’ll do it and things getting in the way, but Peter grabs his wrist, pouting.
“Don’t go?” he says, sending his puppy dog eyes Harley’s way.
The older boy grins, flipping Peter’s hand over to press a kiss to his knuckles.
“We’ll regret it tomorrow if we continue to pile up our dishes,” Harley says, shaking his head. “Don’t you think we should get some work done while we have some time?”
Peter rolls his eyes, tugging the quilt up over his head. “Don’t you think we deserve some down time?”
Face softening, Harley sits down on the couch again, grabbing Peter’s ankle to run his thumb gently in little circles. They’re both tired, it’s been a long time since they’ve had a genuine day off from all responsibilities. It’s been a lot of working, especially for Peter who goes out as Spider-Man every chance he gets.
“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but don’t you think it’ll make you feel better if our apartment doesn’t look like it’s been hit by a hurricane?”
Peter pokes his head out from under the quilt, smiling dopily up at his boyfriend. “I will never stop loving hearing our apartment.”
“And don’t you want our apartment to be clean?”
“Says the guy who didn’t clean his room for months at a time,” Peter retorts, closing his eyes. “I’ll help you do the dishes if you promise we can just cuddle all afternoon.”
Harley, never one to say no to cuddles, smiles softly. “Yeah, honey, I promise.”
“You’re worse than Mister Stark is with pet names, you know that?”
*
Peter sits on the ground in front of Harley, rolling his eyes. “Only you could manage something like this.”
He’s got their first aid kit, constantly stocked thanks to Peter’s Spider-Manning, in his lap, propped open as he digs through it for what he needs.
“It’s not my fault!” Harley exclaims, holding the tissue tightly against his finger.
While washing the dishes, he may or not have sneezed and dropped a plate, cutting his finger.
It’s not a bad cut, but Peter didn’t hesitate before racing off to get their first aid kit.
Peter doesn’t respond, focused on cleaning it up, and then he wraps Harley’s finger in a bright pink Hello Kitty bandaid.
Peter presses a gentle kiss to the bandaid over Harley’s finger before looking up at his boyfriend, a light blush touching his cheeks. “All better.”
“Mm, I think I have another injury,” Harley says, grinning. He taps his bottom lip with his finger. “Can you kiss it better too?”  
Peter rolls his eyes, but leans up towards Harley. “You’re such a dumbass, you know that?”
He gives Harley a quick peck to the lips, but Harley’s quick to grab him by the back of the neck, and pull him in again.
Between kissing, Harley breathes, “I’m your dumbass, though.”
Peter grins so brightly, they have to stop kissing. He drops his forehead to Harley’s shoulder, hiding his smile against Harley’s skin.
“We’ve been together for five years, darlin’, and…”
“I just love hearing it,” Peter says. “You’re my dumbass, and I’m yours.”
Harley slides his hand up down, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulders, pressing kisses to Peter’s temple and the crown of his head. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
They stay there, wrapped in their own thoughts about the future. In less than a year, they’ll be running Stark Industries. They’ll be out of University, out of their little apartment in Massachusetts, and into the tower’s penthouse. Just them two now that Tony and Pepper live permanently with Morgan in their cabin.
Five years together.
Five whole years filled with snuggles and Jeopardy, pancakes and doing the dishes. Nights spent in medical together, hand in hand. Five years of being together, of feeling like they belong somewhere for the first time in a really long time.
Five of the best years of their lives.
Peter sniffles, for once the tears that fill his eyes are happy tears, and he presses a kiss to Harley’s shoulder.
“You okay?” Harley asks. “Sorry about breaking our plate, by the way, it was an accident, and I know the Hello Kitty bandaids were yours-”
Peter lifts his head, grinning at his boyfriend, even when a tear catches on his eyelashes, like the rain that continues to pour outside their cozy apartment.
“I just really fucking love you,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Harley again.
Harley’s calloused hands are safe against his face, smile making the worry lines smoothen out and his eyes light up, washing away any and all insecurities.
“I really fuckin’ love you too, darlin’.” Harley catches Peter’s tear on his thumb, gently brushing it away. “But I think I promised you cuddles now that we’re done with the dishes.”
Peter smiles brighter, leaning his forehead against Harley’s, trying to control the wildfire of love that burns through his chest.
*
Peter wakes up cold.
He blinks his eyes open slowly to find the TV playing The Office on mute, characters moving animatedly without sound. Harley’s not beside him, the couch cold where he’d once been. Their quilt is carelessly discarded on the floor.
He heads to their bedroom, blinking blearily when he doesn’t find Harley anywhere in their apartment. He tugs a shirt on over his head, one of Harley’s that smells like motor oil and his cheap soap.
“Harley?” he calls out, turning in a circle. Their apartment is empty and quiet. And then, he realizes Harley’s shoes are missing from their place at the door.
He tugs on his own shoes, a pair of old sneakers, and grabs his keys.
He doesn’t have to go far, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Harley’s in the park across the street from their apartment, worn yellow shirt standing out brightly against the grey sky. His arms are lifted to the sky, wet hair sticking to his face.
“Babe?” he calls out, approaching his boyfriend slowly. “You okay?”
Harley turns to him, a grin plastered across his face as the rain pours around them. He takes the few steps he needs to reach Peter. One hand cups his cheek, and the other wraps around Peter’s waist, almost lifting his off the ground as he presses their mouths together, rain falling heavily over them.
Peter pulls away first, squinting up at his boyfriend, he’s laughing and it makes Peter smile too. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I just really fuckin’ love life, right now,” Harley says, eyes sparkling. They’re soaking wet and cold, standing out in the rain, in the dim evening light, and Harley looks like it’s the best day of his life. “I love you and I love our apartment and I love getting to wake up next to you every morning.”
Peter kisses Harley again, he can’t help it. “And you couldn’t tell me this in our warm apartment?”
“I’ve never had anything permanent before, until you came along. And I just- I guess I just realized that this, us, it’s forever, you know? And I just love that. I love you.”
“Are we in a Hallmark movie now?” Peter asks. Kissing in the rain, professing their love. “I love you too, babe. You’re such a dumbass, though. You didn’t need to come all the way out here to say that to me.”
“I’m your dumbass,” Harley breathes again. He’s still grinning like he can’t help it. “And you’re the love of my life.”
Peter shakes his head, kissing Harley again. “You’ve lost your mind, Keener.”
“One day, I’m going to be a Parker,” Harley says, smiling against Peter’s mouth. “One day, I’ll be a Parker and- and we’ll get married and we’ll have one of those sappy little weddings where Tony will cry. And we’ll- we’ll run Stark Industries together and live in Manhattan together. And we’ll- we’ll- I don’t know, adopt a bunch of lost kids like we were, because you’re such a good person. And I’ll get to wake up next to you every day and tell you I love you.”
Peter’s expression softens, catching the tears that fall from Harley’s eyes, even as they mix with the rain water. “You promise?”
“Fuck, darlin’, I promise. I love you, whatever happens, sweetheart, I love you.”
“I love you too. Always, babe, I’ll always love you.”
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whatmack · 5 years
Note
Okay um... ma’am? Sir? You can’t just leave me hanging like that? Does Neil run into someone else? How do the other foxes respond? DO THEY FIGURE T OUT? Does he show Matt his scars? I have questions
Anonymous said: Where does Neil run after the iron incident? How is he dealing with it? What will Matt do once he registers what happened?? How does it end?? Omg please make it okay again 😭🧡
Imma be real with you prez I really really wanted to continue this and I’m not exactly sure what came out of me but uh…..have some Best Girl Renee talking about her past
She found Neil under the bleachers of the court. She’d had afeeling he’d be somewhere in the vicinity of Exy.“Neil? Can I come in?”No answer. Renee knew he was there, and ignoring her. She could see him. Nothis body, but the evidence of his passing; the lazy, lingering sway of a wirebrushed on his way past, scuffmarks in the fuzzy carpet of dust. (She had been a tracker, once. A good one. Bloodhound.)(Red on her muzzle and she’d thought herself God.)(She disgusted herself.)
“Neil?” And then, carefully: “Nathaniel?”
That got a quick, choking huff, a paroxysm of laughter. Renee held her breathand ducked down to crawl towards him, the dimpling of the concrete scraping herknees. A cobweb broke across her face and made her sneeze. When she opened hereyes she met the glitter of blue.“Left that one behind, haven’t you heard?” His voice cracked, wrong. Reneepretended she hadn’t heard it. “Matt called me,” she said, moving closer by inches, until she found the placeNeil flinched back from and stopped. The dust tickled her throat. She wishedshe had a bottle of water. “He’s worried.”Neil fidgeted with the cuffs of his arm bands. “I’m fine. Tell him—tell himthat.”“Even if I did, I won’t lie to Andrew,” Renee said as gently as she could. Neil’sfingers clenched. He hid them under black cotton.“Go away and let him come for me, then. You’re keeping him out.”“Yes,” said Renee. There was no point in subterfuge. “I got here before he did,by a few moments. I asked if I could come speak to you.”“Why?”It was a fair question. Renee pushed herself back on her heels to give herselftime to work out her phrasing. The others thought of her as endlesslysympathetic, brimming with altruism and forgiveness; she was not always good,and—sometimes—did not remind them otherwise. The truth was she did not everknow if the words she offered were the right ones. This team—they were sodesperate for anything, that in her more despairing moments Renee wondered howill they would think of her, when they left Palmetto and learned of honest kindness.How sharply they would turn on her.“I think I understand part of what happened in a way that he—both of them—don’t,”Renee said at last. It was an echo of the explanation she had given Andrew,minutes and eons before. “I think I can help. If you would like me to.”Neil curled in tighter around himself, resting his cheek on his folded knees.Renee gave him time to think, scooting up against a metal support and crossingher legs. She saw Neil watching the catch and drag of her skirt across the filthyfloor, saw the confusion flicker across his expression. She breathed in throughher nose to forestall a sigh. The others always seemed shocked, when she letherself get dirty, or disorderly. As if she didn’t spend her time on the Courtwith the rest of them.
(She’d picked these clothes, years ago, because theywere what good girls wore; the antithesis of what she had worn before. Whom shewas trying not to be. She did not regret them, but she wished that she were notconstantly read, delicate, handle with Edwardian propriety. )(She was a girl. She was not a lady.)(She wondered if she would look okay in overalls.)“Do you mind if I ask questions?”“I won’t answer,” Neil said into his Fox-orange sweatpants. Renee nodded,because that’s what she’d seen therapists do on television (she was such asham), and smoothed down a fraying thread on her hem.(Overalls and one of those big jackets, with all the pockets, like Wymack worewhen he was going to the store.)Once she had offered Andrew a handful of truths, and in return had gotten afriend. She could not offer the same ones to Neil, and would not; they wouldn’tfit. But there were others.(On the phone Matt had been terrified. She prayed that his faith in her had notbeen misplaced.)“It’s difficult for me when I see butterflies,” she said.Neil made a rude noise with his tongue and teeth. “How is that relevant here?”She knew he didn’t trust her. He was right not to. She hoped he at least wasbeginning to believe she was trying to be better, and meant him no harm. “Marcus,” she said, making her tone thoughtful, as if Neil hadn’t interrupted. “Inever knew his last name. I’m not sure he did, either. He had traps set up inhis room, in the hall, in the bathroom. Rotten fruit and netting. The smell ofit was horrible—musty and sticky, and it would stay in your nose for hours.”Neil shifted, dropping one of his knees to the side to tuck one dirty sneakerunderneath the other. Despite himself, he was listening. “He liked to take them apart. The butterflies. He’d ask me what he should startwith—the left wing, or the right wing, or the antennae, or the back legs….onceI told him to start with the head, but that would make it over too quickly, yousee.”She had to push down the upwelling of anger, then, hot and edged all aroundwith panic. “I agreed. Marcus was higher up than me. He’d been around longer. People listened to him. When he was there, I liked watching the butterflies struggle, too.They were so…” she flicked her fingers outward. “Pretty.”The silence was complete enough to hear Neil swallow.“You can go to Andrew, or Matt, if you want.” Renee said. She looked again intoNeil’s eyes; made him look back at her. “I won’t stop you.”He said, “I,”He said, “It wasn’t,”He wet his lips. Another strike against the absent water bottle.“All I wanted,” Neil said, “was for him to look at me.”He did not say who, but Renee had a good enough guess. Neil showed his baretorso around the team now, to distract from younger ruined skin; withoutpretense he was already better than Renee would ever be. (She was trying.)“And he did,” Renee said.“He did,” Neil confirmed. He cupped a hand over his shoulder. Tilted his headback. It hit corroded metal with a dull thunk that reverberated, creakingsomething far above. “Do you still want to pick the wings off of butterflies?”She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking. “It doesn’t matter, because Iwouldn’t, now.”(She didn’t know if she wanted to or not. She was afraid to check. Cowardice.)“Yeah,” Neil said. A shaft of fluorescent light through the metal hingesilluminated his face, tipped up as it was. He had not been crying. Reneeunderstood in the deep way that hurt, pricking into the soft flesh of herorgans.She did not know how long they sat there, facing each other at angles, Neil’s untiedshoelaces and Renee’s dangling thread. Eventually Neil pushed himself forwardand stood. “I’m going to see Andrew,” he said. “And—say something to Matt.” I don’tknow what, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to.“Thank you for letting me talk to you,” said Renee. He tucked his chin into the neck of his sweatshirt. “Are you, what, staying?Here?”Yes, Renee thought. I will become dust like my mothers, and my mother’smothers, and finally, finally I will be able to rest.(I do not deserve that I do not–)“I’ll follow in a moment,” she said.Neil was safe under Andrew’s hand on the back of his neck when she emerged,having a whispered conversation with Matt. Renee smiled at the three of themand made her excuses, sidestepping Matt’s obvious gratitude. Andrew’s eyes heldsomething similar, and Renee shook her head; there was no welcoming place inher for such a thing, right now. Andrew’s mouth pursed, angry, or unhappy, but helet her go.
Neil messaged her, once, in the indistinct, dough-soft momentsbefore she fell asleep. In the morning she opened it. It was a link to an article about butterflies. 
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