Alias's Anime Thread ^.^ (#14 Updated 3/30/17)

[alias]

Update time! Thank you guys for commenting and following! Your enthusiasm makes me so happy.

@truth: Yay! I'm glad you liked it! I think Rin has got to be one of my all time favorite characters. I love how fiery he is (no pun intended). I actually got to see his English voice actor at a convention once. Such a funny, friendly, passionate guy.

@BringVeriftyTheHorizon: I was hoping you'd like it, considering your profile pic! I have plans to torment Rin a little bit more in the future. Thanks!

@~fangyfacevamp!~: I'm so glad you're following! That makes me happy to hear I got the banter right, because their brotherly relationship is my favorite thing about the show. Definitely one of the many anime that ended too soon (though the manga is still going, and it is spectacular). Oh, and I'll have you know, the main reason I'm a huge MakoHaru shipper is because of all your fanfics, so I'm delighted you like that one as well. Thank you for coming out of lurking to shower me with happiness! I can't promise when, but I CAN promise that there will definitely be some Yato, Lavi, Makoto, and more Rin in store.

ANNOUNCEMENT!: So the reason it has taken me longer than I said to update is because I've been working on a longer fic to post in the Fanfiction section. I am just about done with it, and plan on posting it later this week. I won't say which fandom it is, so as to maintain the element of surprise, but I will say that it is anime and it's one I haven't written before. So if you're interested, keep an eye out for it in the Fanfiction section.

And on to the good stuff with drabble/dabble/storything number 6! This is an Attack on Titan story, but it takes place in the time frame of A Choice With No Regrets, before Levi joined the survey corps and still lived in the Underground City.

----------
6.

Title: Attack on Dust

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Characters: Levi (m), Farlan (m), Isabel (f)

Levi didn’t like to clean.

He didn’t know anyone who did. Anyone who was happy to get intimate with the muck, and dirt, and grime that built up in every corner of the underground was either certifiably insane, or a sewer rat. He hated seeing the gray streak of dirt on a once-white rag. He hated the mucky water soiled in his bucket by a wet mop. And he hated the clouds of dust that rendered the air noxious with each swipe of cloth.

But he hated living in filth more.

If cleaning once a week meant trading the grunge of the Underground City for a small place that was some semblance of sanitary, then he could wade through the dirt. And muck. And dust.

“H’NtSHHh!!”

And that.

“Gesundheit.”

Levi turned his head to aim a throat-cutting glare at his friend, but Farlan tactfully kept his gaze trained on his own station. Even through the back of his blonde hair Levi could see the young man’s smug grin.

“You don’t have to say that eh-hehv… every time,” he intimated, finishing up the sentence quickly. He felt that if he so much as breathed too deeply, the dust would launch a firing squad on his airways and reel him into a sneezing or coughing fit, or a merciless combination of both. His sinuses burned with the irritation that only ever kept building, and he struggled to find a clean part of his wrist to itch his nose with.

“Heh—hh!…” Levi’s nostrils flared as the hitch took his breath, and he crunched the back of his hand to his face. Another one, already? They usually gave him at least a few minutes of reprieve. He hadn’t even resumed the work yet. Determined not to succumb to its will, he pressed his tongue hard into the roof of his mouth and denied his lungs so much as a sip of oxygen. But the spark combusted anyway.

“Uht’TCHSH!!”

“I already told you I can take care of all the dusting,” Farlan tossed back in lieu of a blessing.

Levi sniffed, which, instead of assuaging the tickle, only made him choke on it. He coughed drily, still keeping a stubborn wrist planted to his nose. “No, it’ll get done fah—faster if we divide it ehehqually…huh…” He couldn’t even speak without his breath jumping erratically into his throat. It was a testament to how filthy they had let the place get. Never again would they skip a week and let the torrential dust gather like this. He turned back to the window sill and scowled at it, as if the fire of his eyes would be enough to incinerate the rest of the dust away. Tiny motes wormed about the glow of light that pierced back at him, and in the moment of one sharp inhale he would have sworn that the damn things had a collective consciousness.

“Hh!—’NGxt’ch! Uhp’kNGxt!!” He stifled in counterattack against the offense, but the effort convulsed his body with no less violence, offsetting his footing and doing absolutely nothing to mitigate the itch. The implosion left his head swimming, and he let the pinch of his thumb and forefinger migrate to between his eyes.

He only just managed to massage some of the pressure out of his head when an emphatic kick pierced his eardrums and flung the door open.

“Hey bros!” Isabel hooted as she tramped into the room. “Finished with the back bedroom. You guys about done in here?” She spun a dirtied rag out in front of her like a flag, then whipped it over her shoulder triumphantly. Levi flinched as the snap cracked a filthy pall into his breathing space.

“Did you sweep under all the furniture?” The question husked out with the last store of air in his lungs.

“N—uhhh…’f course!” Isabel chimed, cheeks scrunching back over a toothy smile. She peeped open one eye to check the sway of her statement, and the ire that met her back melted her pep.

“Go back in there, move the dressers and the bed, and sweep until there isn’t a speck of anything on the floor that shouldn’t be there.” Levi turned into the crook of his elbow to take a clean breath, but his clothes had gathered so much dust by now that it served as a poor filter. The filth flitted between his nose and throat and settled bitterly on the back of his tongue. Disgust gripped his lungs, and before he could even grimace he was wrenched into a coughing spasm.

Isabel’s petulant expression softened as he choked, her eyes widening as she blinked, and a look of concern took over her face. The attention only irked Levi further, and he twisted away deeper into his sleeve. Each scratchy cough punched more air out of his lungs, and when he finally got a chance to inhale, his breath hitched back into itself just as spastically.

“Huh-TCH’SHh! Ih’tSHHchu!!” He didn’t get to even think about trying to suppress them before the explosions wrenched him forward. Despite himself, he felt a heat clawing at the tops of his cheeks, flushing more from irritation that he continued to buckle to the fucking tickle, than from embarrassment by it. It was getting so ridiculous he was about ready to set fire to the whole damn place just to ensure it would get sterilized.

“Hey… are you sick or somethin’?” Isabel ventured, craning her neck to try and catch his gaze from beneath his sleeve. He emerged from his elbow just enough to pierce her with a stare that sufficed for an answer, and whatever look glowered from his eyes made her cringe and take a wary step back.

“Don’t mind him, Isabel,” Farlan rescued. “He gets like this every time he cleans.”

Levi almost snorted, but he was certain if he did it would only come out as a sneeze. He settled for a measured sigh that the roughness in his throat turned into something of a growl.

“Every time?” Isabel queried in a half-whisper that was no quieter than her speaking voice. “What, is he allergic or somethin’?”

Levi could hear the grin in Farlan’s voice as he answered, “You could say it doesn’t agree with him.”

“Well then Levi!” Isabel piped up again. “Why do you do it then?”

Levi was convinced that what he was actually allergic to was their pestering. “Just because you two are content living in a swine-pen does not mean I have to be. Now go finish cleaning out the back bedroom. But first wipe off the dirty boot print you left on the door. There’s—” He almost thought he was going to make it through the speech, but he should have known better. He pressed the back of his hand to his nose anyway, knowing it wouldn’t stop the inevitable. “Heh’t—TCHHsh’u!!… huh… clean rags in the corner over there.”

Isabel stared as if he were some spectacle, and he had to point toward the folded pile of cloth to shift her attention to it. She scampered over to the rags as he turned back to the window sill, which, for all he had put up with, was still a far cry from spotless. He felt the urge to sneeze just by looking at it.

A small finger tapped the back of his shoulder. Whatever she had to say now, he was long past in the mood for it, but he turned around nonetheless. Isabel stood before him once more, though this time she wore a smirk, and it halted Levi before he could berate her. She brandished one of the clean rags, which she had folded into a triangle, holding an end in each hand. Levi just blinked at it, unsure of what she was getting at and why it went with the look of pride plastered across her face. She furled her eyebrow in annoyance when he didn’t catch on, then took a step forward and smothered the cloth over his nose. On a reflex, he jerked back at her advance, but she persisted, swiftly moving to tie the bandana around his face.

“There,” she said, pleased with herself. She tugged to assure that the mask was secure, then planted her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork. “That should at least keep out the dust.”

Annoyance was about ready to boil through his eye sockets, and he scowled through the fabric on his face as he raised a hand to tear the stupid thing off… then he breathed. A nice, clean breath of air. At once his glare relaxed, both at the surprise and the relief. The rebuke that had sizzled up on his palate instantly dissipated, and he let out a smooth exhale instead.

Isabel laughed to herself, then tipped up a shoulder as she winked at him, and pranced back into the other room to finish her work.

Levi remained frozen, bemused at the simplicity of it, and he took a few more breaths just to test that the thing still worked. His gaze connected with Farlan, who blinked in the same astonishment, and then his friend broke into a chuckle.

“I don’t know how you never thought of that before.”

“Shut up,” Levi threw back, though he couldn’t help but enjoy the humor of it too. For all the times he’d suffered through the irritation, it was an easy and obvious solution. He turned back to the window sill and sucked in a generous breath, nearly laughing it out when the clean air filled his lungs. Now with new battlements, he resumed the attack on dust.

The ease of breathing made the job much less of a chore, and he accomplished the rest in half the time it usually took. By the time they were done, the place exceeded his standard of satisfaction, and he beat the dirt out of each of the rags without issue. The mask continued to do its job, and by the end, the task of cleaning wasn’t all that bad.

In fact… cleaning, he thought to himself, even through the muck, and dirt, and grime, actually became… kind of pleasant.

***

[Akahana]

That was really nice, I really like it!! Levi is a bab and I love him

[truth]

This is so cute !! I'm so happy that it included Farlan and Isabel who are v v precious but also focused on Levi ?? <3

[Dylan]

Aww Levi! He's such an adorable asshole C: I've never read a fic with Isabel, so it was nice to see hers and Levi's interaction

[alias]

Hello friends!  I am FINALLY back with an update!  Thank you guys for commenting!  I always adore hearing your feedback and knowing when someone has read my stuff.  This update comes late because I was busy with all the fun of secret santa, so expect to see some more drabbles soon.

Now, are you guys tired of the sudden influx of Noragami on the forum yet?  OF COURSE NOT HOW CAN YOU BE TIRED OF NORAGAMI.  Well, Yato is my BABE, my love, my one and only, so I figure it is time to put him through the ringer.   This story takes place immediately after the events of the penultimate episode of Noragami Aragoto, so if you haven't seen/read that far, be warned that there may be some mild spoilers.

NOTE: I noticed that the forum upgrade seems to have cleared the follows for this thread, so if you were following and still want to get notifications for updates, you may have to click follow again.  I'm not sure what happened.

 

This is uber long and in no way considered a drabble by any definition of the word. Please don't kick me off the drabble section. *bows*

-----------
7.
Title: After Yomi

Fandom: Noragami

Characters: Yato (m), Yukine (m), Hiyori (f), Kazuma (m)

 

The rain poured as if it were dripping from the stars of the darkening heavens overhead.  It was nothing like the storms they had weathered in the wintertime, when the wind blew the downpour sideways—beneath what meager excuse for shelter his master had managed to acquire—and pelted their skin like icy bullets.  No, this rain spilled in a straight shot from the sky, never ceasing even as they crossed into Takama-ga-hara.  Though it saturated their clothing, the abundance of water did not draw a chill to his pruning skin.  As he listened to the patter over the field of grass, the endless streams soaking his hair and cascading down his face in rivulets, Yukine likened the warm water to tears.

Blight sizzled up his neck where Yato clung, one of the god’s arms hooked around his shoulder while the other anchored to Hiyori.  The blister seared as it crept over his skin, as if a tongue of flame licked every part that it touched.  Yukine couldn’t remember if he had ever been burned before, but if he had, he imagined this was probably close to what it felt like.  The farther they walked, the more difficult the pain became to completely ignore, though seeing the shades of violet that overtook the majority of his master’s body made his own discomfort quickly dull in comparison.  Yato hadn’t spoken a word since the fray with heaven’s punishers had come to an abrupt end, but the wheezing that Yukine could hear even through the torrent of rain was more than enough of an indicator that he wasn’t doing so hot.  He didn’t even grumble a complaint as they passed onto Bishamon’s property.

Of course, nobody elected to inform him they were at Bishamon’s place either…

“Just a few more steps,” Yukine encouraged as they neared the edge of the spring.  “Easy does it.  You’ll feel a lot better once the blight gets cleansed.”

Yato swallowed, a wince sharpening his face.  The god opened his mouth to reply, but only managed a hoarse cough; one that seemed to shred his lungs with every scrape of breath.  Could the blight have spread to his insides too?  Yukine held him steady as his body shook.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” Hiyori cooed.  Gingerly, she slipped from where Yato clung, transferring the weight over to Yukine with special care to keep him balanced, and she squeezed Yato’s hand before letting go.  “I’ll be right over here when you’re done.”

Yato’s head snapped up to follow her as she stepped away, his breath rasping to a halt as though he wanted to protest.  She planted her feet in the grass only a few steps from where they stood to assure him she wasn’t going anywhere.  Yato resisted at first, refusing to put any more distance between them, but after a few more soothing words and soft looks, he finally let Yukine ease him into the water.  

Yukine looked back over his shoulder, to where Hiyori nodded him onward with a confident smile.  He returned the nod, and the smile he gave back was one of gratitude.

This is my job, he thought to himself.  I will take care of Yato.

They stepped into the pond, and the pool that engulfed his toes could have been bathwater.  A groan slipped from Yato’s chest as the spring soaked his bandaged foot, and already his frame slumped in the mild relief it offered.  Purple churned into the water where it washed the blight, hissing like an extinguished match before dispersing entirely and leaving clear, pale skin in its wake.  Yukine released the breath he’d been holding.

They waded into the water until they were waste deep.  As half of the blight vanished from Yato’s body, Yukine could see his awareness slowly begin to strengthen, and he was able to hold himself mostly upright rather than rely on the crutch.  

“Lookin’ good,” said Yukine gently.  He scooped a handful of the warm water up Yato’s arm, bathing as much of the rash as he could.  The black yukata the god wore loosened in the current, exposing his chest and slinking off his shoulder.  There was scarcely a consecutive inch of any part of him that wasn’t splotched with the impurity.  Even as they stood in the pond, the deep purple continued to seep over his face like a slow-rising tide.  

“I’m gonna need to dunk you under to cleanse the rest of it,” Yukine decided.  “We’ll go on three, okay?”

Yato coughed before he could speak.  His eyelids sank over their piercing orbs.  “Okay,” he husked.

“One…”  Yukine bent his knees, steadying Yato as he moved out from under him.  “Two…”  He cradled the back of Yato’s head with one hand, braced his shoulder with the other, and then softly dipped him backwards under the water.

Yato thrashed out the instant his face submerged, and even through the surface of the spring Yukine could see the striking blue of his irises as his eyes popped open.  A flailing limb splashed a wave of water into the regalia’s face, and he staggered as he struggled to heave the suddenly spastic god back to the surface.  Yato emerged choking, and although the blight had left his face, the expression that remained was one that was much less relieved.

“W-what the…” Yato coughed fitfully, barely able to bark out the words, “…hell Yukh…hine!?”

“You said you were ready!!!” Yukine howled back.

“YOU said you were gonna count to three!  You only counted to two!”

“I said ON three!  One, two, dunk on three!”

Yato buckled to the harsh coughing, choking on the water as he fought for his words.  “Nobody…c-hounts like that!”

“Everybody counts like that!  That’s what on three means, otherwise I would have said after three!!”

“Then why do you even mention three if you’re not gonna say three!?!”

“Because most people aren’t complete idiots and know what on three means!!!”

“Well most people don’t try to suffocate their masters either!”

If Yato weren’t already hanging inches from unconsciousness, Yukine would have clubbed him over the head.

Yukine secured himself back under Yato’s shoulder as the rest of the coughing spasm possessed him.  Yato wheezed again when he finally regained his breath, the air reaching his lungs in scratchy gasps.  Attempting to stand on his own, he pushed himself away, but no sooner than he left Yukine’s grasp did his hard glare lose focus.  Yukine only had a second to register the vacant look in Yato’s eyes before the god whirled away, falling on his forward foot.  His head tipped back a notch on a rapid intake of breath.

“Hyiih-‘TCHZSHHh’h!!!”  There was an immediate splash as the sneeze threw Yato into the water.  Once again, in a motion that was uncharacteristically clumsy, the beleaguered god’s arms thrashed out as if they could seize the lake’s surface.  Yukine surged forward, nearly going under with him as he enclasped Yato’s waste, and he heaved him to his feet.

“You’ve been blighted beyond recognition, almost died in the underworld, and then were inches away from being obliterated by those heavenly bastards.  I’ll be damned if you drown now in a PURIFICATION POND!”

Yato’s voice broke through another series of choking coughs, but failed to string together any words to form a comeback.  Yukine anchored his feet into the wet sand as Yato’s body convulsed dramatically, and it took most of his strength just to keep his master from slipping out of his hold.  When the fit finally ceased, Yato slumped more heavily over Yukine’s shoulder, though seeing as his feet kept stumbling beneath him, the regalia surmised that the god’s will was far disconnected from his awareness.

“Hey, will you relax?” Yukine grumbled.  “Stop moving around, you’re too heavy.”

A furrow wrinkled Yato’s eyebrows as he shot Yukine a glare, his jaw snapping open as if still struggling to get ahold of a sentence to respond to the previous argument.  The air bent from his chest a few times as he tried to think of something, but after a few wheezes he let out a final, husky exhale, and his lids sank halfway over his icy eyes.

Yukine heaved a sigh as at last the spring water settled to its former serenity, the only agitation over its surface the droplets that fell from Yato’s soaked yukata.  The god’s lungs beat in slow, careful breaths, and despite all his coughing, there was still a crackling sound snagging each one.  The blight was gone, but Yato was far from even being ready to stand on his own two feet without help.  Did Yukine need to dip him under again?  He had thought the purification spring would heal Yato instantly, like a magic potion restoring his health.  It just went to show how little Yukine still knew about everything.  Maybe Yato’s choice of accompaniment into the underworld was an apt decision after all…

Without much of a clue of how to proceed, Yukine stood there in the warm water and let Yato hang on him a little while longer.

Soft footsteps rustled through the grass from beyond the shore, and Yukine looked up to find that Kazuma had returned.  His arms were laden with an assortment of folded white cloth, which he sat at the edge of the spring.  “I brought some towels, and a clean robe for Yato to change into.”  He pressed a finger to the rim of his glasses as he straightened up.  “How is it going?”

“It’s…going,” Yukine replied.  Yato blinked as he registered Kazuma’s arrival, but he remained reticent.  Yukine eased him toward the dry shore.

“Veena has prepared a bedroom for him.  It should be plenty sufficient for him to rest and get his strength back.”

“That’s great,” said Yukine, and he looked the regalia straight in the eyes.  “Thank you, Kazuma.”

Kazuma gave a tacit nod.  “I’ll let you finish up here.  If you need anything, we’ll be waiting back at the mansion.”

He turned to bid a farewell nod to Hiyori, and then departed as swiftly as he’d arrived.

“Well,” Yukine sighed, “let’s get you dried off, then.”

Yukine guided Yato out of the spring.  A shiver wracked the god’s body the moment his feet left the water, and Yukine rushed to drape one of the towels around him.  Next, he unfurled the white robe, and Hiyori turned away as he began to help Yato out of his tarnished garment.  Once he was covered and the new cloth tied, Hiyori rejoined them and wrapped another towel around his still-quivering body.

“How are you feeling?” Hiyori asked, and his eyes opened a little wider at the sound of her voice.  His stare lingered on her for an extra moment, as if too mesmerized by the sound to sort out the question.

“I—” he rasped, but even in the one syllable his voice cracked, and he quickly cupped the edge of the towel over his face as he choked on the word.  He cleared his throat to try again, but instead of making words his breath leapt backward into it.

“Heh-ehh’…uh’t-TDZSSHHh!!”  His eyes crunched shut as he jolted forward, and they remained tight as his breath hitched again.  “hyht’CHHXSH!  hh’ihtTSSCHh!!  nh’heh… hyuh’GKXSHHhu!!”

He lurched so hard on the last one that Yukine nearly lost his own footing trying to catch him, and he very well may have had Hiyori not swooped in as Yato doubled over.

“Whoa, there,” she said as she balanced them.  A husked effort escaped him as he straightened up, his face cinched into a wince.  Yukine kept an arm swung around his back while Hiyori clamped on to each of his shoulders, yet despite their support from all angles, Yato’s body still refused to be still, convulsing with an incessant quake that neither the dry clothes nor extra towels could quell.  Hiyori rubbed her hands up and down his arms.  “Let’s get you warm.”

Fully amenable to this idea, Yato began to stumble forward, eager to follow Hiyori out of the open rain.  Yukine trusted Hiyori to lead the way, and as they walked he didn’t let his eyes drift from Yato for even a second, keeping no more than a few inches away from his master and ready to catch him should his energy wear out.  True to his senses, they made it only four or five steps before Yato’s knee buckled, and Yukine darted in to hoist him up before he could hit the ground.

Yato’s head dropped, his neck no longer able to support its weight as he scrambled to put his feet back beneath him, and even with Yukine and Hiyori’s aid the whole effort drew deep, ragged breaths from his lungs.  Yukine looked up at the mansion in the distance, then uncertainly back at Yato.

“Maybe you should sit down for a little while first,” he said, and Hiyori nodded in agreement.  Yato said nothing in approval, but he expressed no dissent as they half-walked, half-carried him over to a nearby tree.  The foliage provided some shelter from the rain, though it did nothing to lessen his violent shivering.  Carefully, they sat him down against the trunk, and a soft grunt squeaked from his throat as he leaned back into the bark, chest still heaving for enough air.

Hiyori knelt in front of him, studying him closely as he rested.  Yukine stood a few feet back, his arms locked under one another across his chest, and he swiveled the ball of his foot into the grass, back and forth, as he kept watch.  Hiyori cupped her hands around the pale god’s cheeks, and his head leaned heavily into her clasp.  A frown twisted her face, and her palm migrated up though the bangs of his forehead.

“You have a fever,” she said solemnly.  Yato shook with what might have been a laugh, but sounded more like a weak cough.  His eyes closed as he pressed his head into Hiyori’s palm.  

A quiet sigh slipped from Hiyori as she allowed him to rest there for a moment, and her eyebrows steepled as she turned her gaze toward Yukine.  The rain pelted the ground harder now, the sky weeping a torrent of tepid water that seemed to have no end.  Yato’s frame continued to tremble, even as he leaned against Hiyori’s warmth.  As much as he needed to rest, spending much longer out here was going to nullify any of the healing the spring could bestow.  They needed to start making their way up to the mansion sooner rather than later.  As if sharing the same thought, Hiyori pulled away from where she tended to the god and turned toward the spring.  

Her hand had barely left Yato’s forehead when his frame lurched.  Much more quickly than Yukine would have expected he was capable in this state, Yato latched onto Hiroyi’s arm.

“Where are you going?”  His voice raked through his throat, and his hold tightened as she tried to stand up.  Glossy eyes bore into her like shards of ice, gleaming even more striking through the webs of red that bloodshot them.  

“I’m just going to grab the rest of the towels,” she soothed. 

“Don’t leave,” he begged, and his voice broke beneath the words.  His hands shook even harder where they clung to her.  “Please.”

“I’m not going to leave,” she assured him.  He didn’t loosen his grip any, but she didn’t try to pull away.  “I’ll just be right over there, no further.  I promise.”

Yato shook his head, hugging her arm in closer to himself.  A short gasp cut into his throat, and he hiccoughed, rending the air with what sounded a lot like a sob.  He shook his head more furiously as he burrowed his face into the hem of her sleeve.  “Don’t leave,” he husked.

He trembled, hiding his face from them, and refused to let go.  Hiyori closed her eyes for a moment.  Then, in a delicate motion much opposite of the ferocity with which he clung, she combed her fingers through Yato’s hair.  Caressing the back of his head, she pressed her forehead down over his.

“It’s alright,” she whispered.  “You’re home now.  I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t leave you.  You don’t have to worry.”  She hugged him close.  “I’m here, Yato.  Me and Yukine, we both are.”

Yukine watched, his body a half-turn away.  After a quiet moment, a heavy breath escaped Yato’s chest and his frame slumped.  Slowly, he sank back against the tree, though still reluctant to let go of Hiyori’s arm entirely.  Her fingers fell over where he clung, and when he still didn’t move she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.  Just as it started to seem like they would be camped out all night, Yato steadily retracted one knuckle at a time and released his hold.

Hiyori smiled, and before she stepped away she brushed once more over his hair.  “I’ll just be right over there for a second,” she assured.

“Don’t go fhah…far—”  His breath skipped, and as hard as he tried to maintain his plea, his focus glazed over as the impending compulsion seized him, robbing him of all will to do anything other than buckle to it.  The crescent smudges under his eyes darkened as he squinted, air fluttering through his lungs in gasps, and his back arched further with each building breath.  The anticipation alone made Yukine wince, and he cringed when the convulsion finally snapped Yato forward just as harshly as the escalation promised.

“Hiuuh’t-nTJSSHXhh!!  h’GKSSHhih!”  The double ripped through his throat, gnarling his vocal chords like a needle scratching the wrong direction on a record.  His bent body shuddered as it choked on another hitch, barely giving him a sip of air before wrenching him again.  “Hh-hk!… ihKTSSHCh’hu!  hyihGhXSHCH’h!!  ‘NtSSHJh!… hh!— hehhKGTZSHH’hU!!!”

Yato jolted so savagely with the final spasm that his face almost hit the ground.  As he sat contorted over himself, the fit finally gave him mercy, if mercy was even a fair term to apply to it.  A feeble cough clawed through his lips, and with more effort than such an easy movement should have taken, he leaned himself back against the tree.  His eyelids pulsed over the narrow slits that, even in their fatigue, remained trained on his friends with every remaining fiber of his being, as though he feared that if he so much as blinked for one second, they might suddenly disappear.  Kind of like he did for three months.

Yukine gathered the remaining bundle of towels and handed one to Hiyori as she approached.  She smoothed it out in her hands, sighing as she turned her head back toward Yato.  “We better get him up to a bed soon.  He needs to rest.”

“Yeah,” Yukine replied, only vaguely aware of what he was responding to.  He shifted the layers of folded cloth as they began to disassemble, struggling not to drop any, and he wondered how Kazuma had managed to carry the full pile all by himself without any problems.  Then again, there wasn’t much Kazuma had difficulty with.  Hiyori scooped half of the bunch off the top to lighten the load, and he was able to gather the stray pieces that had come unfolded.  As he took a step to leave, he noticed that there was one piece of cloth left on the ground…

It didn’t match the rest of the towels, an inky black amidst the fabrics of white, and it soaked the bed of grass with its darkness like another vent to the underworld.  Yukine prodded it with his toe, as if it might come alive.  The dark garment only gathered more rain as it spread lifeless over the wet ground.  He dug his foot further into the collar to open it up, and Hiyori stepped to his side and looked down with him at Yato’s sodden yukata.

“Wonder where he got that.”  Yukine dragged his foot along the robe, letting mud from the bottom of his shoe streak the surface.  “I thought the bum only owned one outfit.”

Hiyori didn’t respond right away, and he guessed it was because she was wondering the same thing.

“Let’s go back,” she said softly, and she turned toward the mansion, waiting to proceed until Yukine joined her.

Yukine kicked away from the garment as he shifted around, hoping the rain would wash it away into nothing.  

The drizzle that still pattered down from the sky rendered everything into a gray haze, and through that density he looked ahead at his master.  Yato’s ice-colored eyes, now only thin lines, pierced through the fog like strips of blue fire, still locked on the two of them and unyielding to any fatigue or pain that enveloped him.  The tree was the only thing that kept him from sprawling out prone, and his shoulders slacked against its bark where he couldn’t hold himself up on his own.  Even from a distance Yukine could see the heavy, arrhythmic breaths that pounded his chest up and down too steeply, as if his lungs rejected every gulp of oxygen.  Yato started as they turned toward him, and the sudden movement drew a hard wince into his face.  

An ache beat through Yukine’s jaw, and he realized he was clenching his teeth.  He cast his stare down into the grass instead.

“Hey…”  Hiyori brushed up against his arm, soft enough just to alert him that she was there.  “Are you okay?”

Yukine’s hands shook, and he balled them into the pile of fabric.  He forced his gaze back toward his master, and a whole phantom storm seemed to churn within his stomach. 

“I wouldn’t have let this happen to him.  I’d have protected him better than she did.”

He tried to say it tonelessly, without thinking too much about it.  Maybe if he said it that would get it out of his system and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.  He knew if he dwelled on it, it would only hurt Yato more.

But it wasn’t exactly easy to let go, either.

Hiyori stepped in front of him, facing him head on.  She waited until he looked up at her.  Then she spoke very, very slowly.  “Yato loves you, Yukine.  I’m sure he had his reasons—”

“Yeah, I know.  I’m just sayin’.”  He shrugged, knowing that any amount of talking wouldn’t fix it.  So he shook his head to clear it away.  Just like he had done for the three months Yato was gone.  “Come on,” he continued, and Hiyori made no protest.  

It took him a moment to move, and when he finally took the first step his foot felt heavier.  He wondered if Lady Bishamon might have a bed for both of them in that giant mansion of hers.  An ache twinged through his neck as the weight of exhaustion pressed down on him, allayed for so long by the day’s adrenaline, and as he released one hand from his load of towels to brace it with, he felt a stinging sensation crawl over the skin of his palm.

“Yukine!”

“What!?”

Hiyori’s exclamation made him jump, and he staggered backward a step as he looked about frantically to try and discover what prompted it.  He half-expected a phantom to be hovering overhead, but a quick look around confirmed that no such threats were looming.  It wasn’t until he turned back to question her that he realized her stare was on him.  Or rather, on his hand.  He followed her gaze down to where the sting pulsed through his fingers, and as he held up his hand to examine it, it singed with a familiar purple blister.

Hiyori dropped her bundle and took Yukine gently by the elbow, turning him around and leading him back to the spring before he could think to object.  Without skipping a beat, she snatched a cloth from the top of his armful, squatted down to the water’s edge to soak it in the spring, and then promptly encased his fingers in the saturated towel.  He winced as the site sizzled, but after a few seconds the burning throbbed away to nothing.  He wiggled his fingers, cleared of the blight, and Hiyori migrated the washcloth to the abrasion on the side of his neck that, somehow, didn’t get splashed during Yato’s wild thrashing.  A sharp inhale hissed through his teeth at the contact, and Hiyori squeezed the cloth like a sponge, sending a flood of the steaming water down his shoulder.  It burned at first, but as she tended to the impurity with her nimble touch, the pain soon washed away to relief.

“You are the best exemplar Yato could ask for, Yukine.  He’s so lucky to have you.”  Hiyori smiled at him, then planted both hands on his shoulders.  “But promise me you’ll remember to take care of yourself too, alright?”

Yukine blinked as she beamed at him, and warmth flushed the tops of his cheeks.  He had to look away as he nodded.

Hiyori hummed her contentment, then whirled around and regathered her stack of towels.  She led the way back to Yato, and Yukine followed a step behind her.  

The weathered god twisted as they approached, trying to heave himself off the ground, which only intensified the rattling of his lungs, and Yukine hustled up to his side to stop him from pushing the effort further.  Up close, Yukine could see all the strain that Yato fought, seeming to contort his face into a permanent wince.  Even though the blight was gone, his flesh was still streaked with hairline lacerations, crisscrossing over his cheeks and neck like tiny cat scratches; the thin, ominous array they etched into his skin made Yukine marginally more content with not knowing everything that went on down in Yomi.  Despite his evident discomfort, the dummy still clung to the tree bark as if he could use the rough surface as a handhold to hoist himself up.  Yukine abandoned the towels and zipped in under Yato’s shoulder before he could crash land on his face.

“Yhu-Yukide—”

Yukine swooped one arm around Yato’s back, and used the other to hold him steady over his shoulder.  “Come on, jersey god.  You look like hell.”  He ushered him forward gingerly, and Yato obeyed the guidance, putting one clumsy foot in front of the other.  As Yukine closed around his master’s hand, Yato latched on as if Yukine were made of sand and would slip through his fingers if he didn’t grip tightly enough.

“Yukine…” Yato tried again, his voice low and gravelly, but as he continued his breath fluttered away from him.  “Th-tha—huh!… thagk yhuhh… hih-hh!  Ughh, D-dammit!…”

Yato’s free hand flew up to his face, and he grimaced as he scrunched it into his nose, wrestling the interrupting feature into obedience.  His chest only hitched more rapidly, and he ground the back of his hand into his face in stubborn refusal to accept the inevitable.

“Hh-hih’nk…h’MPtSCHJhu!!  hyuhTNSSH’ikh!!”  The sneezes wracked him with little pause between each, somehow still managing to grow in force.  Yukine stumbled as he tried not to be taken down with them.

“Jeez, you’re a wreck,” he groaned at the dazed god.  “Come on.  Let’s get inside before you pass out on me and I have to carry you the whole way there.”

A grunt was all that made it through Yato’s lips, and he sniffed weakly as he scrubbed his nose.  Yukine dragged him onward, Hiyori flitting up to flank his other side.

Yukine took a deep breath.  Then he spoke in a quiet voice.  “And you’re welcome,” he finally responded.

Yato lifted his head, a stutter halting the breath in his throat, and his crystal eyes bore wide into his exemplar.  He blinked, their glossy surfaces sparkling more thickly than usual, and Yukine met them with a look of his own, though truth be told he wasn’t sure what it ended up being.  Yato swallowed hard, and then his head bobbed as he lost the strength to hold it up.

The rain finally began to lighten as they resumed the long, quiet walk up to the house.

------------
 

[EmeraldThread]

ALIAS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!! 
 

I don't even know where to start with feedback because holy wow this was amazing. I just...okay, I took notes so that once I get past verbal flailing and incoherence, I can give you some real words and thoughts, but right now sldkfjdslfjds, I'm still caught in how fantastic this is. It is absolutely lovely, I think I'm repeating myself with how perfect this is, but I don't even care, you deserve to hear it.

Okay okay, attempts at real words, though:

I love the way Yukine talks to Yato from the beginning. He's so sweet and kind and soft. I could FEEL him while I was reading, and I felt like I could understand Yukine's feelings toward his master - how he truly cares for him and is all at once terribly worried, frustrated at being left behind, relieved at finding Yato after three months, and still trying really hard to keep himself together for Yato's sake, so he doesn't sting him, and so he can do his best to help him heal and feel better. It's something that, while we see it in the anime, especially in Aragoto, it's so potent in this fic, and makes me want to see more. It's hard to put into words how strongly you made me feel Yukine's love and loyalty and dedication to Yato in its most untainted form, but you did it beautifully. In fact, in particular, I like how you describe Yukine moving with Yato, carrying him and letting the blight afflict him all so he could get Yato to the purification pond and make sure he was safe. It felt so natural, reading it, and so gentle.

Next, omg, the 'on three' scene. xDD I LOVED that, like dude, I'm totally with Yato on this one, you say three, Yukine. Otherwise, you drown your master, and then no one's happy. I read that part this morning before I went to work and I was like this is definitely one of my favorites. xDD It's so easy to read, too, they're both 100% in character (granted, so is everyone else, though that's hardly a surprise).

Which brings me to my next thing! THEIR VOICES. Okay, so while I was reading, I could HEAR Jason and Micah speaking their lines, especially Jason. With that voice of his that is EXACTLY PERFECT for these types of situations. It's like...you've got these guys DOWN, and I'm 500% pleased about it. It made it feel like this is exactly what happened after they got out of the forest and back to Bishamon's. Like I accept it as canon. Even if I'm shown otherwise. Just. No. I don't care. This is right.  Also, Yukine made me grin with some of his lines (which I'll detail below, I made sure to pick out my favorite parts thisisgettingwaytoolongI'msorry). xD;;; 

Laaastly, the SPELLINGS, you're wonderful, I can't deal with this kind of perfection. >/////< My favorite part is the buildups, like damn, son, what are you doing?? There was something about them that just fit. I headcanon Yato as having pretty unique and dramatic buildups, and you captured that here precisely how I wanted to hear them while I read. Like they're desperate and sort of lead into these uncontrollable sneezes of his, which is another thing--how he tries talking and just...can't do it without being interrupted by little hitching buildups, I love it. X3 But man, the spellings themselves are great, too. Like...wet, but not gross? And, for the moment, somewhat contained? They just sound very him, I don't know how else to describe it. xD;; 

 

Anyway. Favorite lines:
 

15 hours ago, alias said:

Blight sizzled up his neck where Yato clung, one of the god’s arms hooked around his shoulder while the other anchored to Hiyori.  The blister seared as it crept over his skin, as if a tongue of flame licked every part that it touched.

I LOVED this description. It paints the image so clearly, and I can feel the blight, the heat of it, the stinging, spreading...it's excellent.

 

15 hours ago, alias said:

This is my job, he thought to himself.  I will take care of Yato.

This one just...it's like I said earlier, Yukine's devotion to Yato is shown beautifully in lines like these, and it shows, too, how strong-willed Yukine is, which really brings out the incredible emotion of this fic, and the depth of their bond.

 

15 hours ago, alias said:

“You’ve been blighted beyond recognition, almost died in the underworld, and then were inches away from being obliterated by those heavenly bastards.  I’ll be damned if you drown now in a PURIFICATION POND!”

This might be my favorite line, I don't know, but it cracked me up. xDD Like, dude, after all this crazy crap you went through, you're gonna fucking die in the most pathetic way possible?? HELL no. 

 

15 hours ago, alias said:

“Where are you going?”  His voice raked through his throat, and his hold tightened as she tried to stand up.  Glossy eyes bore into her like shards of ice, gleaming even more striking through the webs of red that bloodshot them.  

“I’m just going to grab the rest of the towels,” she soothed. 

“Don’t leave,” he begged, and his voice broke beneath the words.  His hands shook even harder where they clung to her.  “Please.”

Aaaand this gem. I wasn't expecting it, but I felt this tightness in my chest for Yato, and how badly he doesn't want to be left behind or forgotten by anyone. As if we didn't have enough feelings, you brought this into it and made me sad and I am suffering but I am happy about it. This part actually makes me wonder now, what happens to a god's Regalia if the god is forgotten and disappears?

Anyway, wow, this got way longer than I meant it to be. ^^;; But dude, you have to know how fantastic this is, and how wonderfulamazing you are for writing it. X3 I absolutely love it!! We always need more Yato (and, well...Noragami in general ). xD;; I enjoyed it very very much!!

[bazzpop00]

I wish I would have found these drabbles earlier!!! Oh god, so many of my fandoms on this thread I can't take it 0w0

You are so good with keeping them in character, expressing feels in them, and adding in humor! I srsly can't wait till you come out with more drabbles because these were absolutely fabulous! 

[alias]

@EmeraldThread HOLY CRAP DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WONDERFUL COMMENT.  I know I've obviously already talked to you since you posted it, but I just read it again and you make me so ridiculously happy.  :*)  I'm so happy you got that much out of it, because I put my heart and soul into it, ha.  *blushes*  Thank you for loving Noragami with me. <3  I was so so nervous to share (and to even WRITE it) because these characters mean so freaking much to me, so your feedback means the world. *hugs*

@bazzpop00 Yay I'm so glad you like it!  Thank you so much for commenting and following!  I hope you continue to like what you see.

Alright, so sorry I've been MIA for so long!!!  I have been trying to survive my new big-girl job and figure out this adulting thing.  But I am NOWHERE NEAR done with this thread.  So I hope are all still enjoying reading as much as I am enjoying writing (you know, when writing doesn't feel like it's beating you over the head with a hammer).

This next drabble is a sequel to the Blue Exorcist drabble, requested by @Yatogami-kichi.  Because Rin simply wasn't done being tormented in part one. >:)  I hope you like it!  As always, feedback is more than welcome.

---------------

 

Title: Symptoms, Part 2

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Rin (m), Shura (f)

 

Four days.  He hadn’t left the dorms in four freaking days.

Rin let a groan grow into a wail as he exclaimed it at the ceiling, if only to prove that he could shout again without being wrenched into a coughing fit.  All week, he had been stuck under house arrest while Yukio loomed over him like some psycho-watchdog-Nazi that wouldn’t let him so much as step too close to the bedroom door.  The esteemed doctor had dictated that Rin be shut away from everyone else and all signs of life until his symptoms had subsided entirely.  As if he were accidentally going to transform into some demon monster and start eating people or something dumb like that.  

Yukio was way too paranoid.  But more than that, he was controlling.  Mr. High-and-Mighty Perfect Exorcist thought that just because he was a teacher he could blackmail Rin with a failing grade in his class.  Well… okay, so he could blackmail his brother that way, seeing as a failing grade would put Rin a step behind in getting his exorcist certification… but Yukio was still an ass for doing it!  He was a big-headed, power-hungry, egotistical creep.

He was, also, not here at the moment.

It had been five minutes since the mole-face left for his tutoring session with Shiemi, not failing to remind Rin that he still wasn’t cleared to leave the room to do anything short of walking to the bathroom and back.  Rin kicked against his bed restlessly, letting his legs bounce against the spring of the mattress in attempt to burn some of his pent-up energy.  He knew Yukio would be gone for at least forty-five minutes.  That was more than enough time to run outside and get some fresh air.  Yukio definitely wasn’t joking about doling out consequences if Rin were to transgress his orders.  Of course, Yukio couldn’t do squat as long as Rin didn’t get caught…

Screw it.  Rin leapt off the bed and bounded for the door.  You don’t get to tell me what to do, four-eyed dork.  Caught or not, at this point, risking having to take an extra semester of his brother’s class was worth the return to freedom and civilization.  

And if Yukio did get back before he did, he could always just say he was taking a shit or something.

The hallway of the dormitories was dead, no doubt everyone out frolicking in the sunshine, like he should have been doing all week.  Yukio was out of his mind to think he wasn’t perfectly healthy by now.  He hadn’t had the cough for a whole day, and he had kicked the fever the day before that. The illness might manifest in strange ways with your demon side, Rin.  Psh!  More like his demon side gave him super badass healing abilities!  All his symptoms were completely gone.

“Hih-hh!—”

Well… mostly completely gone.

Rin fastened both hands over his face, pinching tight to his nose, and scrunched his eyes shut.  So maybe there was one tiiiiiiny little ghost of a symptom that still hadn’t quite abated yet… and it was currently fluttering around in his sinuses.  The tickle had a tendency of sneaking up on him like a wave crashing up from the ocean, stealing his breath before he had a chance to realize he’d been taken under.  He swallowed hard, sealing his tongue to the roof of his mouth in refusal to feed the itch any more oxygen.  It flared angrily in response, causing his nose to twitch even beneath his rigid grasp.  Then, almost as if dying in combat, the sensation dissipated. 

Rin let out a breath and sniffed, testing his success.  His nose was still itchy, but he was pleased with himself nonetheless.  He smirked.  Should the need to sneeze arise again, he could just suppress it again.  If it doesn’t happen, it’s not a symptom.  

Rin stopped only to look both ways down the hall to make sure the coast was clear, then made a beeline for the exit.

His pace never slowed from a run as he made the most of his half hour of freedom, covering as much ground as he could over True Cross Academy.  It felt so good just to get out and move, and the more he did it the more he was convinced Yukio was just some crazy sadistic dungeon master who’d rather keep Rin locked up like a beast than let him outside when he was perfectly healthy.  He barked a laugh as he parkoured along the brick railing, further proving his fully-functioning lung capacity.  How could Yukio seriously believe he was too sick to be outside?  He had no case to keep Rin shut in anymore.  Rin skipped as he traversed the outer corridor, the sun streaming brilliantly against the side of his face.  Yeah, cutting loose from his room was definitely a good idea.

“Hey… Okumura!”

Rin’s feet skidded to a halt as if by magical command.  Though nothing arcane truly wound around his consciousness, the voice still made his heart skip a beat, and he was reined by a threat much sharper than Yukio’s blackmail.  It was hard not to see boobs as he thought of the sword that always manifested out of cleavage, and Rin put on his best innocent grin as he spun around to face Shura Kirigakure.  

“Hey,” he said flatly, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “What’s up?”

A pair of knee-high boots clopped toward him, and Rin’s eyes jumped straight from her fishnet stockings to the swish in her eyebrow, which made no effort to hide her suspicion.  Her stance cocked to the side as she stopped in front of him, knuckles propped into her hips.  A wordless moment passed as she waited, giving him a chance to confess, but Rin only blinked as he refused to drop his beam.  The arch in her brow steepened.  “You look way too chipper to be out here alone and not be up to something.”

Rin snorted, and it almost made his throat turn on him as it carved an itch into his breath.  “Pa-hah!  Just out enjoying the sunshine.”

He grinned so hard his cheek started to twitch.  Shura’s arms crossed over one another, her knuckles crinkling over the top of a stuffed paper bag.  She must have been on her lunch break.  That meant Yukio was probably on his way back…

“Oh yeah?  Aren’t you under house arrest?”

Rin swallowed against the irritation that only seemed to be crawling higher up his respiratory tract.  “All better now,” he shrugged.  

Shura took another step toward him, staring him down as if she could get him to break.  He didn’t drop his smile as he met her gaze right back.  Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him up and down, and then she whipped out her hand and planted it over his forehead.

Rin blinked, resisting the urge to jerk away.  Shura twisted her lips in contemplation.  After a few seconds, she flipped her palm over to feel with the back of her hand.  

“Heh.  I guess you’re telling the truth.”

Rin let out a tiny breath, then found the smile on his face much easier to hold.  Ha!  I told you so!  And I told that stupid four-eyed mole-face so.  When is everybody going to learn to trust my judgement?  “Of course I am,” he smirked.  “You doubt me?  Pshh… I’ve been absolutely fine for the past two days.  You people are way too paranoid.” 

“Apparently.”  Shura smirked back, and then shrugged.  He could see her interest in the matter drain from her face.  Rin gave himself a high five in his head.  Victory.  He had done it.  And he was going to get back to the room before Yukio could even be the wiser.

“Alright then,” Shura conceded.  She crinkled her hand once more around her lunch bag, hunger winning out over suspicion.  “Don’t cause any trouble I’ll have to clean up.”

She squinted an eye at him as she moved to depart, to leave him to bask in his triumph and celebrate his one-up over Yukio and everyone else trying to hold him down, and then, as she crossed his path to continue on her merry way, she flicked her finger over the tip of his nose.

The effect was almost instantaneous.  Like a match falling into a puddle of gasoline.  Rin gasped and his hands flew to his face, clamping down over his mouth and nose to stop the flow of oxygen, but it didn’t stop the itch from raging through his sinuses.  DAMMIT, why did she have to do THAT!?!  Shura was already three steps past him, oblivious to the fuse she just lit.  Despite his refusal to breathe, his throat still leapt in fluttery spasms, hitching as it stole air through his fingers.  Shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiiiit!  He squeezed his eyes shut.  He just had to hold it until she rounded the corner.  If she just—hh!—kept walking… sh-she wouldn’t see a thing.  He could do this.  Don’t sneeze.  Don’t…  sneeze…  Dhih-don’t… hh-hheh!…

FUCK.

“Hh-huhh’t!—hiih’GKhIHTSHch’hU!!”

Rin didn’t have to open his eyes to see the chaos.  The sapphire explosion radiated beyond his scrunched eyelids as his flame torpedoed through the corridor.  Warmth flooded his skin, and it took a good five seconds before the lick of the harmless fire dissipated.  He swallowed hard, almost choking on the itch as it grappled at his throat now as if to spite him.  As the flash bomb of blue light dulled, he kept his fist fastened to his face and his eyes screwed shut with the blind hope that maybe… just maybe… Shura hadn’t seen it.

“RIN.”

…Maybe?

Her boots clacked back toward him until she was so close he could feel the huff of her breath in his hair.  With a final scrub at his nose, he slowly opened one eye to peek at his accuser.  To his relief—and mild disappointment—the flames had avoided incinerating her garments, and she stood before him fully clothed; or at least, no less clothed than she was before.

“Y-yes?”  He tried to grin it off.  She did not grin back.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh… that… heh heh… that was, uh…”

“Does that happen every time?!”  

“No!  It only ever happens when… I mean… I totally did that on purpose—ow!”

Shura’s fingers latched around his forearm like a hawk seizing a rodent in its talons, and before he could finish bullshitting she heaved him from where he stood and dragged him onward down the hall.  As long as he wanted to keep his shoulder in its socket, he had no choice but to stumble after her.

By the time she hauled him up the umpteen stairways and a billion steps to get to the rooftop, he was practically gasping to regain his breath.  His legs felt like jell-o when they finally stopped, the climb not the best of tasks to tackle after having spent so many days on bed rest (and running around for half an hour beforehand probably didn’t help matters, buuuuut that was beside the point).  Shura released him without warning, and the momentum nearly plummeted him into the stone floor.  He braced his hands on his knees and coughed, his chest burning in complaint to the recent abuse.  Shura slung her lunch sack against the brick siding, then fished in her backpack until she produced three ritualistic candles.  She arranged them into an all-too-familiar array across the ground, aligned perfectly about three inches apart.

“You know the drill,” she commanded, taking a lengthy step back.  “Light only the two on the outside.”

“Oh come on!” Rin spouted.  “I thought we were past this!  I can control my flame, okay?”

“Prove it.”

She crossed one arm over the other, unable to be swayed.  Rin growled his complaint, and when that did no good, decided to just do what she said and get it over with.  After all, he could control his flame.  It was cake.  Pie.  Plain and simple as blinking.  Taking one last gulp of air to catch his breath, he straightened his stance, closed his eyes, and let the fire within him reach out to the outer wicks.  He felt them ignite in perfect unison before he even had to look and admire his work.

Shura tapped her foot, examining the blue tongues of flame as if trying to find something wrong with them.  Rin folded his arms in front of him to match her stance and raised his eyebrow with a challenging smirk, resisting only the urge to utter told ya.  He waited for her to sigh in defeat, to wave him away and release him to his freedom, to apologize and admit she was wrong and never should have questioned him.  

Instead, the gleam that flashed across her eyes was one that scared the shit out of him.

Rin flinched as she whirled around suddenly, making a grab for the lunch bag she had tossed aside only a moment before.  She didn’t explain what she was doing as she fished around inside it, but a satisfied grin crested her lips when she withdrew her fist, clutched around a tiny paper packet from the cafeteria.  She strode toward him as she tore it open, dumping the umber dust into her cupped hand.  Rin’s smirk twisted into a query. 

“What’re you—”

That was as far as his questioning got before she raised her hand to her lips and blew a cloud of pepper into his face.

His immediate reaction was to cough, as the particles rode his inhale into his lungs and singed his throat.  The burning was short of painful, but it was irritating, and in the throes of his choking he could barely pry an eye open to catch a glimpse of Shura making a hasty retreat behind the corner wall.  What the hell was that for, you stupid half-naked tramp!?  He punched a fist up to his lips in attempt to contain the spasms and get a breath in edgewise.  But said breath seemed to have other plans.

“Hhh-heh… hh’ehht—!”  Rin’s throat leapt, and he clapped both hands over his face in a desperate attempt to smother himself as he realized far too late what Shura’s intention was.  The flaming itch erupted through every inch of his airways, stealing every sip of breath and spitting it back out in spasms, and for the third time today he warred with his bedraggled respiratory system to not sneeze.  He had won the first battle, and put up a valiant fight in the second…

But the third was over before he even had a chance to surrender. 

“Huhh-NGKZSSHh’ih!”  His body snapped forward so hard he almost crashed into the floor, and as he tried to recover he could barely steady himself.  He knew it was disaster.  But he didn’t get the opportunity to survey it.  Before he could so much as open his eyes, the next three were on him with only a tiny hitch of breath.  “Haah’IEGhSHCH’hu!!  IhGhITSSH’h!  Heh’tTCHSHu!  Hihh—heh…”

He could hear the firestorm whoosh with each explosion, igniting the rooftop with a magnificent light that only fed the itch that was nowhere near being burnt out.  His chest shuddered, and instead of trying to hold it back he focused his effort simply on not careening over the edge to plummet to the pavement below.  “Hiehh—‘tNJSHhCH’u!!  HUHt’TCHSheh!  IEGkIZSSHch’h!  ‘NJSHhZHh!  Hyeh-eh’t—!… nguhh… heh…hh!”

“DAMMIT, Rin!”  Shura’s voice sliced through the firestorm, and between desperate gasps he managed to pry an eye open and catch a glimpse of her through the sea of blue.  “I thought you said you could control your flame?”

“I-I—hh!  IHkSSHhieh!!  c-can control my flame!  I can’t con—hih… control my—hh’UH’tCHhJSHuu!!—sneezes!”

“Well you’re doing a pretty shitty job of either at the moment!”

“That—h’TZSSHJshiu!!— ’s ‘cause y-hou… huh—gk’hih-hh!… H’yihNgKTCHsh’ih!  ‘NtZSHHh’hu!! Y-you sneak attacked me—heh!…”

“Stop making excuses and get it together, Rin.”  He tried to find her to shoot her a scowl, but the blue inferno was so thick he could only make out the vague outline of her curved figure.  Not to mention his face was too scrunched up into his fist to obey any other command.  “Before you burn the whole academy to a crisp.”

“Nguhhhh!”  Rin groaned, for lack of any other means of protest.  He ground his knuckle into his septum, trying to crush the itch to death, though he knew the solution Shura was looking for was not about stopping the sneezes.  “Hh’t!—H’NGhTSHHsh!!”  His body convulsed with the attempt to contain it, but he could still feel another blaze of fire erupt from his core.  This was her fault.  If she hadn’t assaulted him with the goddamn pepper he would have been perfectly fine!  Well, except for that one incident in the corridor… but that didn’t count!  Because… well… that was… um…

Rin heaved a sigh of defeat (which, consequently, only leapt back into his throat as his breath buckled to the ceaseless hitching).  He drove his fist into his forehead.  He didn’t want to admit it, and he could scarcely even focus on the thought as the itch continued to terrorize his airways, but Shura was right.  It may have been her fault, but it was his flame.

“Hh-hih’k!…  Ihh’kGhSSHhu!!”  Another explosion lit up the rooftop, flaring into the sky in blinding cobalt for all of Assiah to see.  Dammit!  If he could just have one second to focus!  Then he could… could—“HihTZSSHJ’shh!!  IEH’GkSHhCH!  ‘NKtCHshih!  Eh’—hehh-hh’t!… Huh-IH’GkTSSHh!!”  Fuuuuuuuck, no, that wasn’t the right way to do it.  He wasn’t going to get a chance to focus in battle, so he shouldn’t expect to now.  This wasn’t about focus.  It was about control.  As the flames whooshed over his head and licked his ears, he wasn’t sure if the voice he heard was from across the sea of fire, or just an echo of a memory inside his head.

Use your willpower and make those damn flames do what you want them to!

“Hhih!…hh-huh…”  He let the breath strangle him like a rope around his neck.  Then it lassoed him forward.  “IH’t…iHkGSHtZSHhu!!!—NNF!”  

His chest hit the cement floor so hard that any hitch his lungs could have tried to swallow was knocked right back out of him.  The sharp pain of the impact made him cough, and he winced as he dug his palms into the ground to push himself to his knees.  His bruised muscles felt like they were on fire, but, as he slowly opened his eyes, he realized that nothing else was.

Nothing but the two candle wicks on the outside.

“Alright.”  Shura’s boots clopped to either side of the array, and she propped her hands on her hips as she examined the result.  “That’s more like it.  Nicely done.”

Rin blinked at the tiny balls of flame as they swayed in the rooftop wind, his eyes falling heavy as they tried to hold the image, and the longer he took it in the more their number multiplied in his vision.  He sniffed deeply, swiping the back of his hand under his nose as he did so, and Shura tossed a napkin at him.  His sinuses still burned, but at last he could take a breath without being wrenched into a fit, and he took advantage of the reprieve to unapologetically blow his nose into the paper cloth, fold it in half, and do the same thing once more.

A heavy hand clapped down onto his shoulder, and he flinched, half expecting to be attacked by another cloud of pepper.  “You’re free to go, kid.  Go ahead and tell Yukio I’m releasing you from captivity.”  He wavered at the weight, and his feet misplaced a few steps before Shura snagged a handful of his shirt and hauled him back upright.  He would have shot her a glare, maybe a snarky comment too, but he was too busy trying to set the world back on its axis.  Shura ruffled a hand through his hair with a smirk, then her eyebrow twerked as her palm found a stopping place over his forehead.  “You might wanna go back to bed though.  You look like hell.”

He thought about trying to find that glare or snarky comment again.  But his ability to argue at the moment proved just as thin as his energy was holding out to be.  Besides, he didn’t need to argue anymore.  His head spun in a vortex that turned the whole roof upside-down with every blink.  His sinuses ached and itched, promising to flare up and attack him with a fit the moment he let his guard down.  His chest burned as if it really had been on fire.  He looked like hell?

He felt like hell.

------------
 

[Sitruuna]

........I thought I was following this topic but APPARENTLY I WASN'T

Aaaanywayy

Mmmmfhshhskd I'm pretty sure I've also forgot to comment any of these so idk what to say? lol They are all great! : D

 

[bazzpop00]

RIIIIIINNNN my baby!! XD I'm so glad you continued this one since its one of my favorites on this thread. I can't wait to see who you torment in the next drabble

[Akahana]

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH~!!!!  I've been looking for a good Blue Exorcist fic FOREVER and I'm SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!

Rin baby~~ <3

[EmeraldThread]

Once again, I start reading beautiful forum fic right after I wake up and cannot bring myself to be on time for work. ^^;; Just gonna go ahead and start quoting my favorite parts as I read (and go back to what I couldn't quote while reading it on my phone earlier). 

On 5/4/2016 at 10:54 PM, alias said:

And if Yukio did get back before he did, he could always just say he was taking a shit or something.

This had me grinning, and I confess once again that I don't know much about this fandom at all, but I can tell this is totally in character for Rin. Plus it's just a freaking hilarious line. xDD

On 5/4/2016 at 10:54 PM, alias said:

If she just—hh!—kept walking… sh-she wouldn’t see a thing.  He could do this.  Don’t sneeze.  Don’t…  sneeze…  Dhih-don’t… hh-hheh!…

Have I mentioned that I LOVE this sort of writing? Narration with hitching/trying not to sneeze is one of my 239483898 favorite things to read. And this is just beautiful. X3 Also, the match in a puddle of gasoline thing was a pretty great thing to relate it to, and tooootally fitting. 

On 5/4/2016 at 10:54 PM, alias said:

That was as far as his questioning got before she raised her hand to her lips and blew a cloud of pepper into his face.

Wait what?? I was totally not expecting that, but I love it, and I have no idea who she is, but I get the feeling you wrote their relationship perfectly. xD

Okay, so I had to pick out things as I read without picking out ALL OF THE THINGS. This was so fantastic, I love your writing. X3 Let's see...I'm not really sure how detailed I can give feedback, since I don't know them, but based on what I read alone:

The first part where he sneezed? YES. Just so much yes. I'm not all the way clear on the flame stuff (I know it's part of his demon...thing...and that's about it), but I LOVE how you connected it to the sneezing and made it like a reaction to his illness. And then again with the fit!! The fit, that beautiful fit with all of your wonderful spellings, guh! What are you trying to do to me! I could picture them so well - harsh, painful, overwhelming. So perfect.

Second thing, despite how I don't know these characters well (or in Shura's case, at all), I can feel their essences in your writing. Rin is such a snarky loser, like he's so overconfident and then when someone throws him off balance (literally?) he's like CRAP. Also, his comments about Yukio and the names he calls him - I'm not sure if he calls him those in canon, but I would so not be surprised. Also, his general attitude, it's so well written. And even his relationship with Shura, I feel like I'm getting an intro to this before I read/watch it, and then when I actually do, I bet I'll be like "man, this is exactly like what alias wrote!" You got me interested in them after that interest has remained dormant for months now, so I might have to try and get into this one, along with the 500 other anime I need to catch up on/start.

Also, the way you write Rin finally getting his flame under control, how that plays out is wonderfully written. This whole thing is so well paced, and I could see everything happening at a speed that felt right. Not to mention, no skimping on details - the heat of the flame, the burning in his throat...and also, the likenesses of sneezing to the flames/fire, I really liked those. I liked everything, dude, I don't know how many times I've said this now, but you write so well, and it's ALWAYS a treat to read your stuff. Looking forward to the next one~!  (How do my comments always get so freaking long, not sorry because you deserve tons of awesome feedback for this and all the others.)

[Dylan]

HOLY CRAP YOU WROTE MORE BLUE EXORCIST YOU'RE MY FAVOURITE PERSON EVER AHHHHH
Rin having such an over dramatic reaction to the pepper was perfect, and your spellings are a godsend :0
I'm looking forward to whatever you write next!!
(Also quick and kinda random question, have you seen haikyuu?

[alias]

@Sitruuna: Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it!  The forum upgrade seems to have cleared out the follow list.  *stab to the ego*  But I'm happy you found it anyway!

@bazzpop00: Eeeeeeee I'm glad you love the torment. XD  Thanks for commenting!

@Akahana: Yayyyy I'm so happy it's to your liking! <3 

@EmeraldThread: OMG YOU ARE WAY TOO GOOD TO ME.  *tackle hugs you*  You didn't even have to read this when you haven't seen the show but you did and you have no idea how happy that makes me.  And not only did you read it, but you took the time to write such a wonderful response.  Thank you so much.  I'm so happy you enjoyed it and still appreciated the characters. <3 

@BringDylanTheHorizon: Waaaaaaaaaah yay I'm glad you approve!  Thank you so much!  I haven't seen Haikyuu yet, but it's one on my list!  Anime is literally the only kind of sports I will watch...bahaha.

WOW it has been a long time since I have posted.  BUT I AM NOT FINISHED.  As long as there is anime, as long as there are characters to torment, I will have drabbles to write.  Just, ya know, in between all the stupid stuff in real life that keeps me too busy for fanfiction.

This next one is from my current obsession and easily one of my new all-time favorites and if you haven't seen it get yourself a crunchyroll subscription right now and binge it because these characters are freakin fantastic.  I'm talking about Bungou Stray Dogs.  <3  So definitely expect more from this fandom.

A few things to know before you read:

1.) Mild spoilers ahead (directly below, in fact) if you haven't met Chuuya yet.  Only in relation to Dazai's backstory though and how they know each other.

2.) This takes place when Dazai was in the mafia and partners with Chuuya (aaaaand that was the spoiler mentioned above).

3.) If you aren't familiar with the show but still want to proceed, be aware that Dazai is a character who is obsessed with suicide, and he treats the topic very flippantly.  In keeping with the character, I mention it in the same nature a few times, so if that doesn't sit well with you, you might wanna skip this one.

4.) I ship Dazai/Chuuya with every fiber of my being.  If you aren't into that... don't say I didn't warn you.  

SO THEN, if you are okay with everything in the list above, don't let me waste your time any further.  Please enjoy and feel free to comment.

-------
 

Title:  Double Black, and a Dash of Clove

Fandom:  Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters:  Dazai (m), Chuuya (m)

 

The first light over the bay was almost the color of blood.

Chuuya’s gaze fell over the port, resting on the water that was so still it may as well have been the corpse to the sanguine sky.  A sky like that was supposed to be an omen—and it very well may have been, for someone tomorrow—but for a number of men who walked the port the night before, it came a morning too late.  There’d been no warning light for them.  No portent, no inkling, no whisper.  In one moment there was life.  In the next, there was Soukoku.

For Chuuya, the crimson light was a ledger of the night’s work.

He let his back sink against the brick building, a repose in a place so familiar there was a part of his subconscious that claimed it as his territory.  It wasn’t so much for fondness that they revisited it—all the water in the bay couldn’t wash away the blood to give it any sense of comfort—but perhaps it was precisely because it came after the bloodbaths that they spent the remnants of the night there; their small corner of the port was quiet.  Clean.  He didn’t find solace there, but he wasn’t looking for any kind of penance either.

When the sun finally slivered over the bay it prickled his eyes and made him squint.  The gesture stung the bed of his cheekbone, drawing warmth to bruised flesh, and absently his fingers swiped at the wet stickiness.  The skin was swollen under his touch, firm like overcooked steak.  It didn’t hurt, but putting pressure on it shot a star over his vision, and he scoffed as he whipped his hand away, plunging it instead into his coat pocket to curl around a box of cigarettes.

“You’re going to have a black eye.”

The box crunched in Chuuya’s grip.

The man that slouched against the wall next to Chuuya wasn’t even looking at him, but Chuuya was far past being surprised that his partner liked to stalk him with the corner of his eye.  Even though he was used to it, it still boiled the contents of his stomach.  Or maybe it was the fact that he was used to it that his insides turned to acid.  It was a corrosion over time, each minute that passed reminding him that he’d already spent far too much time with this asshole.  And time after time again, they still ended up here, in his corner of the port.  His place of quiet?

Only until Dazai opened his mouth.

Chuuya stuck a cigarette between his teeth.  “That’s what I get for covering your ass,” he sneered, digging in his other pocket for a lighter.  Before he could find one, a tongue of flame clicked over the end of the cigarette.  His eyes followed the bandaged arm holding it back to its owner.

“You wouldn’t get it if you learned how to block properly.”

Chuuya’s breath hitched, and he choked on his comeback as the smoke scored his lungs.  He coughed angrily into his glove, and he didn’t have to look over to see the demonic fucking grin plastered across his partner’s face.  When he managed to speak his voice came out gruffer than he would have liked.  “Well if you’re such a master, you can block for yourself next time.”

“You’re so grumpy, Chuu~ya!”  Dazai trilled, poking at the bruise on Chuuya’s cheekbone.  Chuuya swatted his hand away.  “You should look on the bright side!  If you were a normal person’s height, it would have been a throat punch and that would be much more unpleasant!  You need those vocal cords to scream with when you get mad.”

“Fuck off, asshole!”

“Like that!”

Chuuya’s throat tensed in desire to growl something else, but he forced the cigarette to his lips in lieu of giving the bastard any more bait.  His partner hummed a laugh anyway, taking victory in Chuuya’s strained silence.  God damn him.  Every second with this suicide junkie bandage-whore was like living in a constant state of being tasered, a lightning bolt surging through his body and keeping his muscles unable to release their contraction.  And Dazai fucking loved it.  He delighted in smashing his fist on every single one of Chuuya’s buttons, and when he hit them all he would find new ones even Chuuya didn’t know he had.  That was his game, one he was so good at that he was laughing at the prediction of Chuuya’s response before he could reach his own punch line.

Chuuya sucked on the end of his cigarette, more steadily this time, and let the sweet smoke taint his lungs for a few seconds before releasing it in a measured stream.  Fine.  Dazai was good at reading people.  He could admit that.  But Dazai wasn’t the only player in this game.  Being able to analyze and predict your target, your opponent, and your partner was a survival skill in the Port Mafia.  The bastard may have learned Chuuya after all the years he spent with him, but that glass was transparent in both directions.

I can predict your every move too.

“H’nh!”

…Except that one.

The spasm was sharp and abrupt, buckling Dazai at the waste as if he were dodging a bullet aimed at his head.  Before Chuuya could analyze that there was nothing of the sort to elicit such a reaction, his hand was already around the knife at his belt.  His grip slipped off when the lack of threat became evident, and he could only assume Dazai was just trying out a new way of being stupid.  Maybe the suicidal maniac had been struck with the urge to swan-dive into the bay, and then upon remembering that a new issue of his Beautiful Blonde Babes subscription came out tomorrow, thought better of it. 

Dazai straightened in a much more controlled movement, but he froze midway back to the wall.  He probably wanted Chuuya to look, whatever the hell he was doing.  As much as Chuuya suspected it was another ploy, curiosity still got the better of him, and he let out another cloud of smoke to veil his eyes as they ticked toward his partner.  Dazai remained carefully still, his knuckle braced under his nose as a vacant expression took command of his face.  It wasn’t entirely unlike the one he was wont to wear, the one that had even the highest executives of the mafia scrambling their brains to decipher what the fuck was going on behind it.  There was something peculiar about this one though…

Chuuya didn’t need to study him to figure out what it was; enlightenment came before he got the chance.  

“Hh—!”  Dazai’s throat leapt as it took in a quick jet of air through his fingers, and in a stalled moment of held breath he pinched his nose between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger.  Chuuya found himself holding his own breath as he waited, though he didn’t have to wait long.  In the next moment, Dazai snapped forward again.  “H’NKkGt!”

Chuuya was almost more taken aback by the second sneeze than he was the first.  Maybe because he was expecting something more… contrived?  Not the polar opposite.  By now his surveillance of his partner was obvious, but if Dazai noticed—and Chuuya was certain he did—he paid no mind to it.  He merely sniffed and rubbed a finger under his septum before returning his hand to his pocket.

Chuuya’s gaze lingered for a few more seconds, and when nothing else happened he retired himself to his cigarette.  The son of a bitch had him on such an edge that even something as inconsequential as a sneeze raised his hackles.  He rolled his shoulders, aware that such a gesture wouldn’t go unnoticed by his perceptive partner, but he cared more about shrugging off his tension than he did about Dazai reading him like an open book—Dazai was going to do that either way.  It had been a long night, and Chuuya needed to stabilize himself.  There was nothing unusual about a sneeze.  Well, or two.

“HehkNGT’t!!”

Or three?

This time Dazai staggered, the spasm lurching him more violently as his face scrunched to contain it.  Chuuya dropped all guise of ignoring it and diverted shameless scrutiny to his partner—though at this point, Chuuya wasn’t certain he was still on Dazai’s radar; as sly and acute as the bandaged bastard regularly proved to be, a renewed vacancy in his eyes suggested that another distraction was occupying his full attention.

He fought it longer than Chuuya would have put money on.  For almost a minute he kept rigid, maintaining shallow, steady breaths, and the same poker face that matched his usual mask almost perfectly.  But Chuuya didn’t miss the tiny collapse of his eyelids, nor the twitch in his nose as the carefully crafted visage began to crack.  His chest leapt silently, and only on the last intake of air did Dazai finally bring his hand to his face as the last line of defense to stifle it. 

“NNGhXt! hih’kGNXtt!  —hih!”  The second one fired before the first one had even finished, and going by the wide blink in his eyes even Dazai seemed to have failed to predict it.  Chuuya swore he saw a flash of annoyance twist into Dazai’s brow, but whether it disappeared under Dazai’s composure or was overtaken by what was still impending, Chuuya couldn’t be sure.  But he certainly enjoyed the spectacle.  “Hhh—uht’NtGXshh!!  ‘GkNXtt!  Hh!—‘iehGXjhh!  ‘NTSSh!!”

Dazai clamped his hand so hard to his face that he was going to end up being the one with a black eye in the morning.  It did the trick enough to relieve him from the fit, and in the pause a chuckle broke through Chuuya’s lips.

“What is your problem?” he criticized, feeling the cut on his cheek twinge as his grin crested it.  “Don’t tell me you finally caught your death from all your river plunges.”

Dazai didn’t answer right away, his face still pinched into his hand, and the delay to his otherwise insufferable wit almost swallowed Chuuya’s mirth in the matter.  Chuuya quickly shook himself out of it, clenching his fist that he would nearly deign to worry about the bastard.  Any need to worry vanished in the next moment as a smile curled beneath Dazai’s fingers, as if the talk of suicide brought him enough joy to breathe again.

“If I have, are you going to nurse me back to health, Chuuya?”

Chuuya’s own smile fell back into a grimace, and he sucked on his cigarette.

“The only thing I’ll be nursing is a full glass of merlot.”  Chuuya let the smoke carry his retort and he turned back toward the bay, trying to erase his partner from his periphery.  

“Hm,” Dazai laughed, and he sniffed as he rubbed his finger under his nose.  “How romantic.  Shall I pick you up at eight?”

“Fuck you.”

“Not before dinner, Chuuya!  You have to seduce me before you get me into bed!”

Chuuya was ready to stab him, and nearly vocalized his intent before predicting that Dazai would easily twist that into something even more raunchy.  His next breath of smoke escaped as a growl.  He considered bypassing any sort of comeback and just actually stabbing the son of a bitch.  He might have done it if he didn’t suspect the freak would enjoy it.

“Won’t you be too busy getting ready to ditch your latest girlfriend so you can never call her again?”

Chuuya could only guess what Dazai’s response was going to be.  He waited for it.

And waited.

And waited.

And then got impatient.

He felt a vein threaten to rupture in his forehead as he jerked toward his partner, but before he could grind his teeth too hard at what Dazai was about to say, he realized that Dazai wasn’t about to say anything.  

Chuuya watched with suspicion, still not entirely convinced it wasn’t some sort of act.  This time Dazai’s hand was already cupped to his face, his nose pinched in a firm brace and his eyes smashed so tightly shut that a little wrinkle swiveled between his brows.  He didn’t flinch.  He didn’t even breathe.  Until…

“H’tNh!”  Dazai’s body convulsed as if he’d been kicked in the stomach by an invisible foot.  The sneeze was nearly silent but for stunted grunt it wheedled from him, and it would have been disappointing for all the anticipation… had it been the only one.  “Hh!—‘kGNht!  N’GtXsh!—Hht’NkKGSHih! … h-huh… H’tNGKh!!”

“Okay seriously, what is with you!?”  Chuuya found equal parts humor in the situation as he did confusion.  He had never seen Dazai react to anything like this before, not even after the dozens of times he’d returned to headquarters soaked head to toe from one of his frequent suicide ventures.  On the occasion Dazai ever did fall sick, anyone would be hard-pressed to take notice of it; Dazai kept even the smallest grains of truth under impenetrable layers of bullshit, and anything he was so generous to let you glean was just as much by design as the mask was.  Watching that mask fall off was something that Chuuya, in all his years of too-close quarters with Dazai, did not witness often.  He couldn’t decide if it was pleasing or unsettling.

Dazai blinked, his fist firm at his septum as his head ticked a notch toward Chuuya, as if for a fraction of a moment he forgot he was being watched.  The stupid smile came back when their eyes met.

“Aww, are you worried about me Chuh—Chuuya… HuhKkGXCH’shu!!”

The smile dropped as quickly as it had reappeared, a look of utter displeasure falling over his face at the one that finally broke through his attempt to stifle.  The sound seemed to tweak the soft palate of his throat, and Chuuya almost cringed as he understood Dazai’s preference for wanting to hold them back.

“Like hell,” Chuuya answered.  “But if you’re sick I’m not gonna be picking up your slack when—”

“What is in those cigarettes?”

“—we… What?”  He faltered at being interrupted, then after shooting Dazai a glare for it, dug into his pocket for the box.  He hadn’t even turned it over in his hand before Dazai snagged it from him.

“Hey!”

Dazai stretched the box far overhead and craned his neck up to read it, holding it outside of Chuuya’s jumping range, and Chuuya wanted to murder him.

“This isn’t even in Japanese.”

“They’re imported, you cretin.”  

Chuuya made a leap for the pack, falling so short of reaching it that his face flushed with heat.  Dazai wafted the box carefully under his nose, and then made a face.

“Why do they smell weird?”

“That’s clove.  Now will you give them back?”

“Clove?”  Dazai snorted.  “You really have awful taste, Chuuya.”

“Says the man who drinks wine out of a box!”

Dazai beamed down at him with absolutely no desire to deny the accusation.  Then he flicked his wrist and tossed the box of cigarettes into the bay.

“YOU ASSHOLE!”  Ire took hold of him, and in the split second he let his guard down, Dazai swooped down and swatted the lit cigarette from his hand, extinguishing it between the sole of his shoe and the concrete.  Chuuya grabbed a fistful of Dazai’s vest, cranking his other fist back ready to connect with the bastard’s smug face.  “Dammit, Dazai!  Those were not cheap!”

Dazai held his hands up in childlike innocence, his stupid smile a perfect bullseye for Chuuya’s punch.  “I’ll pay you back tonight.”

“Like you could cough up the dough!”

“That’s not how I was planning on paying you back…”

Chuuya’s fist never made it to Dazai’s face; it remained paralyzed by the suggestive swish in the bastard’s eyebrow, eyes glinting with many more words than his mouth had spoken.  Chuuya’s grip collapsed, but Dazai’s stare didn’t, his smile slicing his face in a more slanted and dangerous way than his usual stupid grin.  It parted his lips enough to show the movement of his tongue between his teeth.

In the next beat the distance between them had shortened, though Chuuya wasn’t sure whether it was he or Dazai who had moved.  It always happened like that.  Why the hell does it always happen like that?  In one moment he was filled with murderous rage and loathing, and in another his chest was pressed into Dazai’s, locked together with the synch of one inhale to the other’s exhale.   That feeling of being tasered shot through is pulse again, though instead of rendering him tense it electrified his veins, and as some demon inside Dazai stared down at him through fire and darkness, Chuuya wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or angry or something very, very different.

Dazai took Chuuya’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, claiming it like it was his for the taking, for possessing, and he tilted Chuuya’s head upward to align their eyes, holding him captive by nothing more than the blood-colored tinge to his umber irises.  Warm breath swept over his face and Chuuya suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, but he was more preoccupied with where Dazai’s other hand was descending…

“Are you going to tell me how much I owe you, Chuu~ya?”  The voice was low and smooth, curling around Chuuya’s neck like a snake, and as he waited to be bitten the only response he could manage was to exhale the last of his smoke-stained breath.

Then Dazai froze.

He was close.  So fucking close that he could feel static between their lips, begging to gnaw into each other.  Dazai didn’t move.  Chuuya couldn’t move.  It was like someone had pressed the pause button on their forms, holding them rigid in a purgatory of anticipation.  It might have only been for a second.  It might have been for a fucking century.  It was going to drive Chuuya mad.

And then it ended.

Dazai was the first to move when a sharp inhale cut through his lungs.  He tore away from Chuuya, ripping out of the tie that had them bound, and in the same violent motion his body seized forward, his wrist barely making it to his face.  “Huh’k—gk’tTCHShhu!!”

He lurched so forcefully that he could have easily toppled into the bay, were it not for the railing that halted him.  The sneeze wrenched his voice high, and afterward he cleared his throat with a groan Chuuya was surprised to hear.  Dazai sniffed, his own frustration becoming evident as he rubbed furiously at his nose.

Chuuya let out a growl, then crossed his arms and sank back against the brick building.   He listened to Dazai continue to sniffle next to him, and then turned his attention back to watching the sun crawl over the water.

Fucking tease.

[truth]

ooohhh my goodness. wow. we don't deserve you !! we really don't. your writing is so good i can't believe you're still wasting your time with us (but please don't stop).

i loove bungou stray dogs and dazai and chuuya are a great pair !! this was soo well done i don't even know where to begin. dazai's expressions, for one thing, were written perfectly! and you got the dynamic between the two so well.

[bazzpop00]

0w0 oh yes...OH YES

 So glad to see you back and writing with this thread, especially that amazing Bungou stray dogs drabble and would honestly LOVE to read more. I'm really excited for more drabbles coming from you ^^

[Ti🌸]

Ok, so first of all, I have been a fan of your work for a REALLY long time and have just never commented because I'm very awkward and can never put my thoughts into words. But Dazai pushed me over the edge. (Can't wait for S2!)

Your character interactions, spellings, and descriptions are always on point no matter what you write! I wish I had half of your skill. And I look forward to whatever you write in the future!

[Dylan]

HOLY SHIT. IM DEAD. 

You literally always manage to write fics for anime that i know and bungou stray dogs is one of my faves. You got Dazai and Chuuya's interaction absolutely perfect, and Dazai's sneezes omg <3 Seriously you're amazing  

(you should definitely watch haikyuu, you'll be pleased to know there are a few very well acted sneezes somehow sneaked in there  and same here XD) 

[alias]

@truth - Waaaaaah thank you so much you are way too nice! ^.^  I'm so happy to find fellow Bungou fans here because SERIOUSLY this show is amazing.  I was so so nervous to post this because Dazai and Chuuya are SO HARD to write and they mean so much to me and I was certain I got them wrong.  Your feedback means so much. <3 

@bazzpop00 - Eeeeeee thank you so much for always being so supportive!  Oh and don't worry, you will CERTAINLY get more from these characters.  ;D  So much tormenting to be done... >:)  Chuuya will get his turn too.

@Tippy - I'm so happy you popped in to say hi!  Thank you thank you thank you so much for all of your nice words! <3  You made me smile really big.   DUDE SEASON TWO ON OCTOBER 5TH!!  I start shaking like an excited chihuahua when I think about it.  XD  I dunno if you've read the manga, but all I'm saying is chapter 31 BETTER be in season two.  If I have to wait for season three for that, i'ma die.

@BringDylanTheHorizon - YAS I love killing fellow fangirls!  XD  Haha, I'm glad we obsess over the same characters.  Thank you so much for following and commenting!  You are wonderful.  <3  (And oh reeeeeaalllyyyy now?  Hmmmm I will DEFINITELY have to check out them volleyball boys now XD).

GUESS WHAT GUYS I HAVE ANOTHER NEW OBSESSION!  And what comes with new obsessions???  New characters to torment.  >:)  I love these boys so much.  So so so so so much.  I'm talking about the Greed pair from Servamp.  EVERYONE GO WATCH IT.

This doesn't contain any spoilers, unless you don't want Lawless's given name revealed to you yet.  In which case, don't read any further, because that's how I'll refer to him throughout the fic.

Also fair warning... this one is long... longer than the others... If I wasn't pushing the drabble label before I'm definitely obliterating it now.  So prepare for a 5,565 word drabble. #imsosorry

Well then.  Have some JekyllandHyde.

----
 

Title: I’m Not Sick, I’m an Angel

Fandom: Servamp

Characters: Licht (m), Hyde (m), Krantz (m)

 

“I think you’re both making much too big a fuss about it.”  Krantz sat the last of their suitcases against the wall, then propped his fists into his hips as he turned to address them.  The rigidity of his shoulders collapsed when he met both of their faces.  “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I think we can all survive for just one night.”

Not ideal?

There were a few aspects of their situation that Licht could qualify as not ideal.  Having to carry their own suitcases to the room without the assistance of a bellhop was not ideal.  Knowing there would be no room service or continental breakfast to greet them when they woke up in the morning was not ideal.  And the freeway roaring right outside their window with blaring car horns and speeding trucks that would undoubtedly keep them all awake at night was not ideal.

But having to spend so much as a few minutes, let alone an entire night, with the shit rat in a cramped hotel room that had one bed was about as far from not ideal as they currently were from Austria.

“Ngaaaaaaah this place is a total duuuuump!”  The demon flopped down onto the couch next to him, a full seat away but still far too close.  Licht pierced him with a glare, ready to shove a boot down his throat if it would get him to shut up, but the shit rat was too engulfed in the throes of his whine to notice.  And, as it turned out, they didn’t exactly disagree on this particular matter.

“You’re far too used to being pampered.”  Krantz smirked, finding some level of humor in the situation that neither Licht nor Hyde found in their capacity to appreciate.  “One night won’t kill you.”  The vampire only groaned again, grabbing his hair and rearing back over the couch as if he’d just been told he was about to be set on fire.  Krantz ignored him and directed his look now to Licht.  The pianist crossed his arms and maintained his hardened scowl.  “It’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before.”

A shudder claimed his spine at the thought of it, and Licht wrinkled his nose.  Sharing pillow space with what you thought was a hedgehog you picked up off the street, only to find out later that the critter nuzzling up to you every night was actually a piece of shit vampire who had yet to clue you in on that fun fact, was hardly an argument to be used for why he should be okay with sharing so much as breathing space with Hyde.  The reminder only fueled Licht’s urge to kill him.

“Ohhhh!”  The demon sprang forward out of his tantrum, his mood instantly transformed by Krantz’s suggestion.  He hooked an arm around Licht’s neck and beamed down at him with a fanged, shit-eating grin.  “Does Lichtan wanna cuddle just like old times?  I’ll keep you warm and cozy as you fall aslee—mmfh!!”

Licht’s palm grappled with the demon’s face until he had pushed him an acceptable distance away.  He didn’t break his stare with Krantz.  “There has to be another place we can stay.”

Krantz pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes, and he didn’t have to answer for the third time already for Licht to know the dire straits.  “Unfortunately with this late of notice and the holiday weekend, everywhere within reasonable—and even unreasonable—driving distance is completely booked up.  We’re lucky to have gotten this room.”  He said it with a sigh of exhaustion, as if winded from the battle, and all Licht could bring himself to do was cross his arms more tightly and silently protest Krantz’s use of the word lucky.

“So then,” Krantz went on when neither of them decided to argue further, “why don’t you find something to watch on TV and get settled in for the night.  I’m going to make a quick trip to the store so we can have something to eat.”  He held out the remote in front of Licht, and before he could uncross his arms to retrieve it, Hyde snatched it from the mediator’s grip.  A short laugh of triumph bounded off the demon’s tongue as he reclined back into his seat, spinning the controller in his hand.  Licht dug his heel into the floor and readied himself to kick the shit rat straight out the window and into traffic, but the moment he shifted his position he felt a firm clamp over his shoulder.

“And just a reminder,” Krantz’s voice was as solid as his grip, and he looked Licht pointedly in the eyes, then turned the same unrelenting stare toward Hyde, “if you two start fighting and we get kicked out of the hotel again, our next option is to spend the night in the car.  So please,” for that one word, his tone slipped from parental, to pleading, “behave yourselves while I’m gone.”

He held each of their gazes for a quiet moment, and when neither of them voiced an argument, he let out a breath, gave them a fatigued smile, and then turned to leave the room with a look on his face that seemed to suggest he was hoping and praying to all the gods and angels alike that the hotel would still be standing when he returned.

Licht figured the odds were probably fifty-fifty.

The door latched shut behind Krantz, and Licht listened to his footsteps disappear into the night, until the only noise that cut the tension between himself and the shit rat was the hum of the equally shitty heater that failed to pump any decent amount of warmth into the room.  Another shudder trailed his spine, followed by a wave of disgust as he fixed his gaze on the blank screen ahead of him.  As if in response to the silence, Hyde opened his mouth and took a breath to speak.  Licht cut him off before the demon’s voice could defile his ears.

“If you say two words to me I swear I will kill y’—hh… H’GkNSHh!!”

The sneeze hit him out of nowhere, and he only reacted in time to catch the end of it in the back of his wrist.  He sniffed, hoping to assuage the remaining tickle, and he rubbed the fabric of his sweatshirt angrily over his nose.

“Gesundheit.”

Licht blinked up blearily and the vampire smirked at him.  Gesundheit.  One word.  

Now I’ll kill you twice.

“Well then, Angel-chan,” Hyde kicked off from the back of the couch and plopped onto the center of the bed.  He bounced up and down so that the springs screeched and whined.  “Do you want the left side or the right side?”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you, shit rat,” Licht snarled.  The demon only snorted another laugh and rolled around in the sheets, wrinkling up both sides.

“I guess you’ll be sleeping on the floor, because I’m quiiiiite comfortable here,” he warbled.  Hyde sucked in a long, indulgent breath through his nose and made a production of stretching his arms into a hammock behind his head, then slathered a wide grin across his face.  Once he sank into the pose, he popped one eye open to pierce Licht with a devilish, crimson iris.

He was practically begging to be kicked in the face.

“Stop contaminating it with your filth,” Licht growled through his teeth, and in two steps he was off the couch.

In one more step he was almost on the floor.

The vertigo had to have been from standing up too fast, or maybe his head was just churning too much of the demon’s bullshit—either way, if he hadn’t had the reflexes to latch onto the bedpost, he would have gotten a face full of grungy carpet.  He groaned, slamming his eyes shut to allay the dizziness, but it only dissolved into a dull ache between his eyes.  As he steadied himself, the headache stretched into a burning sensation in his sinuses, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Hyde sprang up from the bed the moment Licht staggered, planting his hands on the mattress and leaning toward him.  “Don’t fall, Angel.  Use your wings!”

“Shuh—s-shut up…”  Licht managed to get the retort out just in time, then strangled his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  “HuhNkGt!  h’NGxt!  h-hh— ‘NkXSHh!!”

The triple stifle didn’t help his head any, nor did it do anything to kill the tickle that still buzzed around tauntingly just behind where he plugged his grip.  He held his breath, hoping the lack of oxygen would snuff it out.  It only served to make the room tilt.

“Oi, Lichtan,” Hyde sat up from his goading posture, the smile on his face flattening.  His new tone irritated Licht more than the provoking one had.  He blinked up at him with a wide expression Licht didn’t care to read.  “You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?”

Not daring to open his mouth yet, Licht opened his eyes instead, searing Hyde with a glare that said more than his words could anyway, though the sharp expression sent another pang through his skull.  “Nuh—no…”  He swallowed hard against his traitorous breath, refusing to let it flutter into his lungs and feed the itch.  As it turned out, it didn’t need air anyway.  “hk’KSSht!  H’NgkXt!  k’hh…”  He jammed his tongue into the roof of his mouth.  If he could just cut the fit off with one good stifle it would stop.  Or at least it fucking better.  Even if his head imploded as a result, he wasn’t going to buckle and give the demon another thing to taunt him with.  “Heh-hh’NGXhKK!! …Nngh.”  

Stars combusted at the edges of his vision, and a sharp pain tweaked somewhere inside his eardrum, but it made the fit stop.  Carefully, he unlatched his hold over his nose, and when he trusted it enough to get a steady breath in, he rubbed his finger under his septum and sniffed, then grimaced at the liquid sound that resulted.  He straightened, finally letting go of the bedpost, and it took him a moment to remember what he had been doing before the interruption.  Then his focus fell on Hyde, who was still staring at him with some gaping look on his face that might have been intrigue, or hunger, or confusion, or perhaps something else entirely. 

“No,” Licht reiterated.  Hyde squinted an eye at him, the opposite eyebrow arching into a swish, and from behind the red frames of his glasses the sharpened expression made him look more vampiric than his oversized fangs did.  “The dirt in this shitty hotel doesn’t agree with me,” he added.

Something about the comment curled the grin on Hyde’s face once more, and he slumped forward onto his stomach, resting his elbows in the mattress and propping his chin in his palms.  He kicked his legs merrily behind him like a kid watching cartoons.  “Well that’s good,” he said with an overzealous sigh of relief.  His voice was much too playful for Licht’s liking.  “‘Cause it’d be a shame to have to spend the night in this trash heap just to have you end up being too sick to perform tomorrow.”

Licht scoffed so furiously that his throat ripped into a harsh cough, and his fist flew back up to his face.  He teetered as he fought to keep his stance, refusing to use the bedpost as a crutch again, but the new spasm proved to be just as unforgiving as the sneezing was, and even harder to quell.  The bout seized air from deep in his chest, tearing through his throat as it refused to relinquish him.  The racket he was making drew a flush to his cheeks, and he was practically panting by the time it showed him mercy.  For a split second he considered collapsing straight into the bed, but the demon’s occupancy there swiftly dissuaded him from that direction.  He swallowed carefully, the motion raking his throat as if he were gulping down grains of glass, making him wince, but he was sure to maintain his pointed scowl.  As he gathered himself to fire off the retort that was long overdue, he tried to brainstorm ways in which all of this was Hyde’s fault.

“Even if I were sick,” which he wasn’t, “I would still play.  I’m not a weakling that gets incapacitated by a stupid illness.”

“Oh?”  Hyde chuckled, though Licht failed to determine what he continually found as so damn funny.  The vampire stretched out and rolled onto his back.  “I dunno why you’d bother though.  It’s not like anyone important will be at this show.”

“Stupid sh-hih… shit rat…”  Fury ignited within him, but unfortunately, so did the itch in his sinuses.  Dammit, he was not going to lose this battle again. He pressed the back of his hand against his nose, but he didn’t take his eyes off Hyde.  “You d-hon’t—heh… g-get iht… ih’tNGXT!!”

That one broke his stance, offsetting his equilibrium as his whole body shuddered with the contained force of it, and this time he did reach out for the bedpost, though his arm swung too wide and he had to settle for a fistful of sheets at the corner of the mattress instead.  And, to his compiling malcontent, he wasn’t done.  As if in defiance to being repeatedly smothered, the irritation combusted to a flame that burned through his whole respiratory system, and he wasn’t sure whether he needed to cough or sneeze but he was viciously loath to do either.  His only option was the not-breathing method, which he didn’t expect to work.  That didn’t make him any less infuriated when it failed again.

“H’hkKNgxt!! ‘gkNXtsh!”  They assailed him with no room for breath in between, sending another knife through his ears as he refused to let them free.  It still didn’t stop the onslaught.  In fact, with each head-bursting sneeze they only seemed to get angrier, and he was beginning to lose his grip on them.  “hk’KSSH’ih!  huh-NgKXxtSh!!  hah’t—!…ngh… hAhNGk’kh!!”

He managed to wrangle them again by the end of it, though after only a few seconds, the flame still kindling in his nose told him the end had not in fact arrived yet.  His eyelids fluttered in anticipation of more, breath leaping into his throat despite every effort to cut off its passage, and his head tilted up on its own accord as if his body was warring with his mind’s determination to stop them.  He pulled his sleeve over his hand and clamped it once again over his nose, buying himself another moment.

“Too bad you can’t stop sneezing long enough to explain it to me.”  Licht blinked through bleary vision to find Hyde still fixated on him.  He tried to glare.  He tried to scoff.  He tried to fucking not sneeze.

He failed each one.

“A d-heh… demon like you wouldn’t understah—‘NDGkk’h!—stand…”  Hyde crossed his arms, growing impatient as he waited for Licht to stop, though Licht had no desire to keep talking to him anyway.  Why he played was of no concern to a demon.  The only reason the vampire was there anyway was because of the stupid contract bond—

“OHHHHH, I get it!”  Hyde’s eyes lit up, and he bolted forward on the bed and pointed a finger far too close to Licht’s face, making him go cross-eyed.  “You’re the important one!  You’re not worried about missing out on important people.  You don’t want people to miss out on you.  Gahaha!”  Hyde curled into peals of laughter, and Licht felt another wave of heat flood his cheeks.  “Haaah!  You don’t want anyone to miss out on the miracle of Angel-chan’s music!!”

Licht shifted his weight without thinking, ready to plant one boot on the floor and send the other into Hyde’s over-borne teeth and through the back of his skull.  One short displacement of his foot instantly told him this was a bad idea, and he anchored it back to the ground before he could lose his balance completely.  His head pulsed, the room swayed, the damn itch was threatening to flare through his sinuses again, and in just the small movement it took to right himself his body ached.  It was too much to let Hyde get away with his boorish cackling.  Depleted of his usual attack method, Licht had to settle for snatching the nearest throw pillow and hurling it at the demon’s head.

Hyde didn’t even flinch as his gaze followed the arc of the projectile to where it dropped pathetically about a foot in front of him.

The laughing stopped so instantly it was as if the vampire’s vocal cords had been snipped in two.  For a moment, they just stared at each other, Licht’s cheeks flaming hotter than ever, and the mirth that was smeared over Hyde’s face vanished into something heavier.  

“Uhhm, Lichtan…?”

“Shut up!”  Licht sniffed, his cuff still at his face, and he was so repulsed by the sound that he knew his sleeve was not going to suffice.  “Shut uh… hup and… H’NkXSSHhu!!—die until you dh…die…”  Sleeve was definitely not going to suffice.

He wasted no time in storming to the bathroom, leaving Hyde to gape there like the idiot he was.  Normally Licht was averse to such revolting displays as blowing his nose, but at this point he was desperate enough to expel the itch that he just didn’t care anymore.  And… it was also becoming necessary.  He spun out a length of toilet paper and shoved it unceremoniously into his face.  It was disgusting, and he cringed at himself for the noise it produced, but he didn’t half-ass it.  Once he had used up one side, he folded the paper and did the same thing again.

“You’re the one who seems to be dying right now, Lichtan.”

Licht’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he whipped back around to find Hyde right at the doorway.  Fucking sneaky demonic piece of shit.  His fist clenched around the ball of toilet paper until it started to shake, then he made a production of chucking it into the trash.

Unfortunately, the motion demanded more from him than he had given any consideration to, and he overshot the swing, losing the rest of his body to the falling momentum.  His eyes widened as he realized he was about to hit the floor.

“Whoa, hey!”  

The hard tile never met him, and it took him longer than he cared to acknowledge to realize why.  His lungs beat a harsh tempo as he tried to unfix his gaze from the ground, and it wasn’t until he accepted he wasn’t about to collide with it that he felt the other pair of arms hooked under his own.

“Maybe you should lie down or somethin’…”

“Get off me!”  Licht ripped away from the demon’s grasp, nearly sending himself to the ground after all.  But he managed to maintain upright, albeit unsteady, and he reached out for the doorjamb as he shoved his way past.  “Don’t t-touch me with your f-hihlthy—huh-uh’gKkSSCHhihmff!!”  He had no hope in stopping that one, and barely even succeeded in smothering it into the crook of his elbow.  The rough fabric of his sweatshirt was no welcome handkerchief, and while he had hoped blowing his nose would stay the sneezes, it only seemed to have provoked more.  “Hih-hh… khh!—”  His breath hitched furiously, sucking air into his lungs so far past their capacity that he almost choked on it, and the building spasm held him there in a lightheaded vertigo for so long he thought he might pass out before it released him.  “HAhNGkjSSH’hk!  Hhk’GXSSHuh!!”  Dammit.  He was losing them.  He couldn’t even stall them anymore, let alone stifle them…  “IHGht’SCHhu!!  ihhk’—KSSHch’h!  H’tNjSSHhu!!  ‘gkNXtSH’ih!  Hh-uh’h… UHtK’khh—!”

The last one halted, halfway through completion, and it paralyzed him in some limbo between the torturous buildup and any satisfying kind of release.  He was stuck, bent at its mercy with one arm still smothering himself and the other latched onto something for support.  A violent shudder ran down his spine, but he was still frozen, unsure of whether he should breathe in or out, or if he even could.  The captivity felt like a century, though it couldn’t have been more than a moment, until finally his chest leapt one last time, and he slammed his eyes shut.  “Hh-h!… IH’tSShZCH’huu!!”

The final spasm ripped through his vocal chords like it wanted to tear his throat in half, and were it not for the firm grip on his support beam he would have careened into the floor just by the sheer volume of it.  He sniffed deeply, abusing his nose with the back of his wrist for allowing him to be that obnoxious, and as he took a few careful breaths he was relieved to find that, at last, the itch seemed to be at bay.  Blinking, he tried to make the room around him settle back into its axis and stop the rocking motion his head was lost in.  Thank god he had had the dexterity to grab on to…

“Wow, that was quite the show.  Very impressive, even for you, Angel-chan.”  Licht’s gaze swiveled from Hyde’s lip curling over a fanged grin, and down to where his own fist anchored into a handful of the vampire’s ridiculous orange vest.

Licht let go as if the garment were about to become an active power line.  He swung with his other fist, but as his arm swooped through the empty space in front of him, even he wasn’t sure if he was trying to sock Hyde in the face or if he was merely trying to catch his balance enough to keep upright.  No sooner than he dislodged himself from Hyde did the vampire’s hand connect with him again on his chest.

“Don’t touch me you—kmff!”

Licht’s back hit the mattress before he even realized how hard Hyde shoved him.  The impact didn’t hurt, but it knocked enough of a cough from his lungs to tumble him into another fit.  His elbows tangled into the sheets as he struggled to get up while his frame convulsed with the spasm, and the rattling in his chest held him down like an extra weight sinking him into the mattress.  He swam through the bedding, trying with all his might to sit up as he choked, but then a much heavier weight planted itself over him.

“I don’t think so.”  Hyde straddled his stomach, making it difficult to quell the coughing fit and even more difficult to get up.  “Time for the angel to lie down on his cloud.”

“You—!”  Licht coughed harshly, sacrificing one fist to cover his face with, and it was all he could do to sputter the same word again.  “Y-You—”  But whatever Hyde was that he was searching for, Licht lost in the throat-raking spasms.

“Jeeeeez, will you calm yourself already?” Hyde groaned, hardly even having to adjust against all of Licht’s struggling.  “Can’t you see I’m letting you have the bed?”

Licht gave one more lurch before Hyde’s words sank in.  Then he felt the bed beneath his back.  He stopped fighting, and the air broke shakily from his lungs before it calmed again to slower, rasping breaths.  Beneath him, the pillow seemed to stretch up toward his head, as if trying to cradle him in its feather-soft cotton, and as he felt it stroke the nape of his neck, he let his head collapse backwards into it.

For as shitty as the rest of the hotel room was, the bed was actually really nice.

His lids fell heavily over his eyes, casting out half of the room, and through the blurry screen he could see a different sort of smile widening softly across Hyde’s face.  The stupid vampire was still on top of him.  Whatever.  Just because he pinned him didn’t mean he won.  Licht had the bed…  He felt his body continue to sink into the mattress like quicksand, and a sheet of black fluttered over his vision as sleep tempted him… He could kick Hyde out the window tomorrow.  Stomp his face in.  Knock his ugly vampire teeth out.  He didn’t have to do it now, when the room was cold, and the demon’s body provided so much warmth…

Licht was yanked from his near-slumber when an icy palm planted itself over his forehead.

His eyes sprang open, ready to pierce Hyde with a glare, but his gaze got distracted in the crease of the demon’s brow line.  “That’s definitely a fever,” Hyde sighed, then shook his head with what looked like mild amusement.  “So stubborn, Angel-chan.  Why didn’t ya tell Krantz you weren’t feelin’ well?”

“I’b dot dot feeling well.”  Licht winced at the garbled gibberish of his own words, then glowered as he watched Hyde bite his lip in suppressed laughter.  He sniffed, looking pointedly at the space about six inches from Hyde’s head.  The next part came out as a mumbled rasp.  “And he would have cancelled the concert.”

Hyde hummed with another short laugh, and Licht thought he was finding far too much pleasure in the situation.  Though, he still wouldn’t let him off the bed—not that Licht was putting up much of a fight anymore.  With or without Hyde on top of him, his body felt like lead.  As if by the mere mention of fever, a new ache pulsed through his bones, and as much as he wanted to connect his boot with the demon’s smug face, he also wanted to just not move at all.

Hyde shook his head, then he leaned down so fast that the closed distance made Licht dizzy, and the demon’s warm breath tickled his face.  “You ever think that maybe you’re a little too dedicated?”

Stupid fucking hedgehog doesn’t understand anything.  Weak and pathetic shit rat… he didn’t know anything about dedication.  What it meant to be somebody.  To be an angel.  Typical of a vile demon.  Licht was about to open his mouth and tell him as much.

If it weren’t for the incensed itch in his nose about to make a reappearance.

Licht felt his nostrils twitch, and before he could speak his breath hitched in on itself.  He scrunched his eyes shut, trying to crush it, but it only flared back with more fury.  His next tactic was to smother it into his fist, but only when he tried to lift his arm did he remember that it was still pinned under Hyde’s grip.  The demon’s presence loomed a mere inches above him.

The bastard most definitely deserved to be sneezed on…

But Licht had more dignity than that.

“Mhuh—move…” he stuttered, choking on the spastic inhale.  He bit his tongue to try and hamper it, but was certain it would only buy him a few seconds.

For what very well may have been the first time ever, Hyde obeyed his command without argument, and the instant he retreated Licht hastily yanked the collar of his hoodie over his face.  The rough fabric barely covered his nose before he lost it.  “hh’IHNXSSHh!!”  It hauled him from his recline, jolting his body off the pillow, and he only just began to pull the neck of his shirt down again before the second one was upon him.  “Hh-uhkNKkGSH’hu!! —Nngh…”

His abdomen burned from the force of the spasm, unwillingly wrenching him into a sit-up, and then gravity claimed him again and his head flopped back into the bed.  Another groan broke from his chest.  Hyde stood over him, his raised eyebrow and overbearing smirk beaming down at him like a spotlight, and Licht flipped onto his side so he didn’t have to look at him.  He expected to hear some kind of snort, maybe even a full out guffaw.  

He only heard the tapping of thumbs on a cell phone.  

“I’ll tell Krantz to pick up some ibuprofen.  Jeez, it’s so hard to tell when you’re getting sick, Lichtan.  You look pale and sulky every day.”

“I’m not sick,” Licht argued into the pillow.  He buried his face further at the sound of his own voice, rough and nearly unrecognizable.  “I’m… an angel…”

This time Hyde did laugh, but it was more of a quiet hum.  “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”  Licht thrashed his foot out at random, figuring it had a one in four chance of being in the right direction to connect with the demon.  It didn’t.  Hyde laughed again.  “Or perhaps I should say more temperamental.”

Licht had a comeback.  He swore he did.  But the moment he opened his mouth, the air snagged in his chest and he lost it to another bout of coughing.  He brought his arms up over his face, his whole body curling into the pillow as air scraped through his lungs with each harsh convulsion, like an axe thumping repeatedly through his rib cage.  It hurt.  As much as he tried to ignore it, everything just fucking hurt and he couldn’t fucking breathe and the room was still tilting and his nose was still burning, and as he struggled to make the spell stop all he could actually do was cling tighter and tighter to the pillow.  When he finally got a moment of reprieve, the frigid air of the shit-hole hotel room snaked through his sweatshirt, and the uncontrollable shudder that resulted cut straight to his bones.

The cold only assaulted him for a moment, for as soon as his body began to shiver, something warm and heavy was draped over his frame.

Licht flinched, though the surprise blanket was by no means unwelcome.  He opened his eyes, and his stomach did a back flip when they zeroed in on the figure right in front of him.  His servamp pulled the covers up to his neck.  “Rest well, Angel-chan.”  A gentle whisper.  The flick of a lamp switch.  Then quiet footfalls moving away from the bedside.

That’s it?

“Hyde…”

The name stopped the vampire instantly in his tracks, and in the dark Licht could make out his posture, frozen in a way, but not rigid or captured.  Just, stopped.  Paused.  Like the sound was still registering in his ears and he wanted to hear it.  Licht wasn’t sure why he said it, or why he didn’t say shit rat instead.  Hyde turned a head over his shoulder, but Licht couldn’t see his face.  “Hm?”

The words didn’t come as unconsciously as the name had.  Licht opened his mouth, then clenched his teeth.  He thought about saying nothing and waiting for Hyde to lose interest.  Then he shivered.  He decided to try again.

“You don’t—h-huh!…”  He shouldn’t have been surprised when his own breath tried to strangle him, though he still struggled to make any preemptive attempt to halt it.  He slid a hand to his face as his throat hitched again, but didn’t have the time—or quite frankly, the effort—to do much else.  “Hhh!—hh’NjSShZshh!!”

He really wished he had covered with his sleeve instead, and once he was sure another wasn’t right behind, he sniffed and wiped his hand on his pant leg.  He closed himself back into the blanket, letting silence fill the room, and he hoped the interruption would have killed Hyde’s curiosity.  But Hyde still hadn’t moved.  The vampire stood as he did before, patiently, waiting for Licht to say what he apparently wanted to say.

Licht closed his eyes.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

Silence again.

Then the whine of springs as Hyde sat on the edge of the bed.

The mattress sank under his weight for only a moment.  In the next, there was a fffh! noise, almost like the whooshing flap of a cape, and a figure much smaller made its way up the bed.  

Licht didn’t shift away as the hedgehog crawled over his arm and nestled itself just below his chin.  Hyde burrowed against Licht’s chest, the critter’s soft underbelly brushing warmly against his collarbone, and the steady beat of the small lungs against his own regulated his breathing to a slower, easier pace.  Hyde raised his head to look up at him, inquiring, and Licht stroked a soft finger along the spines of his back.

The room didn’t quite stop rocking as he drifted off, but with the warmth over his heart to relieve the shivering, the spinning settled enough to allow him a more tranquil repose.  A ballad played distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind, and it was one he knew, one he played a million times, but in the intangible pool of its notes streaming through him, intermingling with the enclosing darkness, he couldn’t grasp his fingers around what the name was.  But it was a good one.  A nice song.  Or maybe that was just how he heard it right now.

His fingers twitched once more over the bristles of his angel mouse.  Then he let the song lull him to sleep.

[Dylan]

....that......... i think i just melted into a puddle of goo....

Servamp is amazing, and I love Licht the most <3 

Everything about this fic made me so happy and oh mY GOD. YOU ARE THE MASTER OF SPELLINGS AND HITCHING BREATH !! 

3 hours ago, alias said:

“HAhNGkjSSH’hk!  Hhk’GXSSHuh!!”  Dammit.  He was losing them.  He couldn’t even stall them anymore, let alone stifle them…  “IHGht’SCHhu!!  ihhk’—KSSHch’h!  H’tNjSSHhu!!  ‘gkNXtSH’ih!  Hh-uh’h… UHtK’khh—!”

and this .. did i ever mention how much i love when someone who normally stifles gets into a fit and isn't able to stifle anymore 

I'm looking forward to what you gift us with next!! <3

[Kaze]

Wow, wow, wow :D This fic is so amazing. Servamp has also been my obsession and when I saw this, I needed few minutes just calm down before I could start reading, I was soo excited. I was really excited after reading this too. this is one those fics that I will defiently come back to and read many many times over and over again :3

[Ti🌸]

Wow I didn't expect to see a new fic so soon! That was amazing! Out of all the Servamp characters, these two are my favorites!  

By the way, sorry if you've already answered this, but have you ever seen Haikyuu, Kuroko no Basuke, or Ace of Diamond? They're three of my favorite anime of all time haha.

Oh and I found this too. Dazai sneezes at about 6:05 from being talked about.

I look forward as always to future fics!

[alias]

@BringDylanTheHorizon - Hehehe that was the plan .  Licht is SOOO much fun to piss off and torment.  I believe EmeraldThread is the one who came up with the headcanon I happily accept, that Licht is prone to "stifling until he's dying."  I am so obsessed with Servamp right now that I can't even start a new anime, I just keep replaying all the JekyllandHyde scenes.  I cannot decide which one of them I am more in love with.  Which is why Hyde is up next.  Thank you so much for always reading and commenting!!!  You make me so happy.

@Kaze - Waaaaaaaah I'm so excited you're excited!   Yaaaaas join us in the Servamp obsessionnnn.  XD  I can't get enough.  The characters are just so fantastic and complex and beautiful and I just want to play with them forever.  Thank you so much for your nice comment!!!

@Tippy - Eeeeeee thank you for reading I'm so glad you liked it!  Dude the Greed pair is the best and I love them so much.  I want more of them.  MOOOAAAAR. XD  I haven't seen those shows yet, but Haikyuu is def high on my list!  I loved Free and it definitely looks up that alley.  And DEAR MOTHER OF GODS THANK YOU FOR FINDING AND SHARING THAT BEAUTY HOLY SHIZ-NIT.  XDDD DAZAIIII!!!  GUH it is so PERFECTLY OBNOXIOUS.  That is EXACTLY how I headcanon Dazai sneezing in front of Kunikida.  He would be loud and annoying on purpose to get attention and to drive Kunikida up the wall.  

ALRIGHT FRIENDS I've got another Servamp one!  I couldn't torment Licht without evening out the playing field a little.  XD  Thank you guys so much for always commenting and following.  I seriously can't tell you how happy it makes me.  You are all the best.  <3  

Here's one that the shit rat probably certainly most definitely deserves.

NOTE:  This is not a sequel to the previous one.  It takes place on a different occasion in a different hotel.

----

Title:  What You Do in the Dark Is Your Business

Fandom: Servamp

Characters: Licht (m), Hyde (m)

 

Licht didn’t want to know what the shit rat had been doing in there all afternoon.

He hadn’t bothered to check.  As far as he was concerned, Hyde shutting himself in the bedroom just meant a length of time that the vampire was out of his sight.  No hideous orange vest to assault his vision.  No high-pitched nasally voice to goad him.  No looming presence hanging over his shoulder staring at him with its too sharp and too wide smile like he was simultaneously a teddy bear to play with and a hunk of steak to devour.  It was a rare reprieve to come by.  

Licht couldn’t understand why Krantz was making such a worrisome fuss about it.

“What if there’s something wrong with him?” he insisted.

“There’s a lot of things wrong with him.”

The manager sighed, crossing his arms as he pulled for the pianist’s attention.  “For all you know he could be dead in there.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Krantz let it go for another hour after that.

Though as the third hour came to a close, they rounded on the hotel room’s checkout time, and the peace and quiet Licht had taken advantage of was about to reach its inevitable end.  The bags were packed.  The room was tidied.  The bellhop was waiting.  Really the only thing keeping them there was the remaining five minutes they had to spare.  That, and the room’s third occupant who had yet to be seen.

“Alright then,” said Krantz, his eyes sweeping the room one last time.  “I’m going to go make sure everything is cleared with the concierge and apologize for the… noise last night.”  His manager pierced him with a sharp gaze, and Licht made a point to scowl towards the window.  “Guil is waiting with the limousine.  Can I trust that you and Lawless will both be with him by the time I’m finished?”

Licht could still feel Krantz’s eyes on him as he awaited a response.  He clenched the fist tucked under his arm, wishing they could just leave Hyde to be swept up by housekeeping with the rest of the trash.  When Krantz didn’t waver, Licht uttered a begrudging “Yes.”

“Good.”  Krantz let a small sigh escape, then said more warmly, “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

The door closed, and Licht used two of those minutes to glower at it.

When he couldn’t stand sitting there doing nothing for any longer, he got up and tramped toward the shit rat’s bedroom.  With any luck, he really would be dead in there.  Though when Licht got close enough, the all-too-familiar voice that was muffled just beyond the door shattered that possibility.  Who the hell is he talking to?  He put his hand on the doorknob, hoping the rattle would alert Hyde enough to stop doing anything indecent that Licht didn’t need to witness.  The voice inside shot to a peak, trailing with a dramatic flair before falling back down again, but Licht still couldn’t make out what was said.  And he really didn’t give a shit.  

But the car was waiting.  

Damn hedgehog.

Licht opened the door… and stepped into darkness.

“Come, come, and sit you down!  You shall not budge!”  Hyde’s voice exploded from somewhere in the shadow, and through the black Licht could barely make out the vampire’s silhouette towering from atop the bed.  The springs screeched as he crouched with the words, and his frame turned toward Licht as the newcomer entered the stage.  Hyde whipped a finger at him and continued as if Licht were another actor in the same play.  “You go not till I set you up a glass where you may see the inmost part of you!”

“Oi, it’s time to check out, idiot,” Licht growled.  Hyde merely jumped on the mattress, his face hidden in the dark.  As he tried to focus his vision in the room, Licht could see that not only were the curtains drawn, but Hyde had also hung the comforter from the bed over them, sealing out any sliver of sunlight that could leak through.

“What wilt thou do?”  Hyde pitched his voice high, one hand spread delicately over his chest while the other flew in feigned distress to his forehead.  “Thou wilt not murder me?  Help, help, ho!”

Licht kicked the door shut behind him so hard that the decor clattered where it hung on the wall.  “Stop goofing off.  I said it’s time to go.  Krantz and Guil are waiting downstairs.”

“What, ho?”  The vampire’s voice changed again, this time low and bumbling, like a distressed clown.  “Help, help, help!”

Fury burned within Licht’s core and quickly stretched down to his boots, activating his lead with a faint violet glow, illuminating just enough of the room to make out the demon’s wild eyes.  The balls of his feet bent like coils ready to spring.  “I swear I’m going to kill you.  Die until you die, shit rat!”

“Wrong, Liiiichtan~!” Hyde’s natural voice trilled.  “But you’re close.  The line is, How now, a rat?  Dead for a ducat, dead!”

A rapier materialized out of orange hellfire, stretching out from the demon’s hand and casting a glow up to his fiendish smile.  Hyde swung the sword in an indulgent arc over his head as his knees bent.  A crazed sort of chuckle slithered through his fangs.  He lunged.

Licht flicked on the light.

Hyde yelped and toppled off the bed face-first into the floor.

The yowl that grated through the air was almost more annoying than the impenetrable theatrics.  Licht stepped toward the balled heap of his servamp on the floor, his boots dulling as he approached.  Hyde dug a fist against his forehead as he tried to look up, his face scrunched tight against the brightness.

“Lih—hihCHtSh’iih!”  His body lurched the instant he tried to open his eyes, and his hand flattened over them to try to shield the light.  He peered through his fingers back up at Licht, a deep crease cutting between his eyebrows as he struggled.  “L-Lichtha-AGkNSsH’h!!  IEDSZCh’hih!! …y-you can’t jhuh-just—Hhk’GIhZsSCHu! …turn on th-heh… light like that without—‘NtChZSHh’uh!!  nguh… warning me f-first—hh!”

Licht tensed, snarling at the revolting display as the demon sneezed openly, apparently too caught up in his own plight to worry about decency.  Hyde continued to grumble and whine on the floor, his face contorting as he brawled with the light and his breath hitched again.  Licht stomped forward and crouched before him, then latched a hand around the vampire’s wrist.

“Cover your mouth, not your eyes, disgusting rat,” he growled, shoving Hyde’s hand into his face.  Hyde startled, his throat squirming with a sound of surprise, and he blinked widely as if he wanted to protest, but only for a second.  His eyes narrowed once again, unable to stay open for long in the new light.  A sharp jet of air shot into his lungs as he tried to wriggle out of Licht’s hold, but Licht kept an unrelenting grip and smothered the demon with its palm.

“Hgh… tenshi-chhah—Hh-hhk… IHkKSZCHh’nmfh!”  Licht almost lost his balance when Hyde snapped forward, but he made sure the vampire caught his own sneeze.  Hyde grumbled, and frustration sharpened his brow line as he wrestled to free himself from his eve’s clutch.  His breath jumped again, and Licht could feel his chest go rigid as he tried to hold it, his eyes slamming shut once more against the other attack.  He lost both battles simultaneously.  “hht’—Hh’EIhTSHCh’hu!!  hhk’KGtSsHh!  huh-AEGhKSCHh!  HhN’JtSHhmff!  H-hh… huh’kh—!”

His breath stuttered indecisively, holding him halfway through the last one, and he stopped struggling in obeisance to the stalled sneeze.  Licht felt the vampire’s nose quirk even through his grip over Hyde’s hand, and he watched his teeth clench together in the torment of waiting for it.  Hyde shuddered, his lungs denying him a new gulp of air, until finally, when he could take it no longer, he let his eyes flutter open, and he titled his head toward the light in surrender.  “heh’IIHtTDZhSSh-hu!!”

The final spasm ripped through his throat so harshly that it curled him into a couple of dry coughs afterward.  He sniffed, then groaned, and his features finally slackened as he dropped his fight with Licht in the exhaustion of the fit.  Licht released his hold, allowing Hyde to rub his nose.  Carefully, the vampire ventured to open his eyes, the whites of which were rimmed with a color that matched his scarlet irises.  He cupped a hand over his brow to give himself shade, then whined.

“That wasd’t ndice, tedshi-chan.”  Hyde sniffed thickly, and his face fixed into a wince as he tried to keep his eyes open for short moments at a time.  “Turni’g the light od like that without givi’g mbe a chadce to acclibate to it…”

Licht scoffed.  “It’s your own fault for shutting yourself in here and holding us up.”  Hyde only sniffed again in complaint, his face pursing into such a pout that Licht considered turning the lights off again just so he didn’t have to look at it.  Though as much as he wished there was an off switch for Hyde’s over-dramatics, he couldn’t deny that the pathetic rat looked like he was genuinely in a pit of discomfort.  A deep flush flourished over the bridge of his nose and stretched out beneath the cradles of his eyes, only glowing brighter in shade as he thumbed at his sockets, and with every little groan the hard lines etched into his features gouged a harsher wince into his face.  Licht huffed an irritated breath.  “Why were you in the dark all day anyway?”

“The lighti’g id this stupid hotel is too brighdt.  It gives mbe a heh…headache—hh’IHtCHSShJHhu!… ngh… and that.”  His voice squeaked as another spasm wrenched it from his chest, leaving him hoarse.  He buried his face in his hands to muffle a prolonged groan.  When he couldn’t curl himself any tighter, he rocked sideways, and as gravity took him to the floor his form shrank into a tiny ball of spines that rolled once over the carpet before burrowing into the mass of overturned sheets.  “Outside isd’t godda be ady better.” 

“Hey, don’t go hiding under things,” Licht snapped, whipping the sheets off the floor with one hand and making a grab for the rodent with the other.  He snatched up Hyde before he could dash under the bed, hedgehog legs still peddling through the air as Licht lifted him off the ground.  Licht secured both hands around his soft underbelly, careful to avoid the white spikes that bristled out and threatened to jab him.  “I’m sick of telling you.  We’re leaving.”

“Ngehhhh, Lichtan stahhhp!!  I dod’t wadt—ihDtSh’ii!!  hhk-!…kssh’ih!”  Hyde lost his stamina as his tiny body jolted, and his beady eyes squinted shut against the glare.  The complaint turned into a series of squeaks as he squirmed tiredly in Licht’s hands.  It took no effort to hold him still.  Usually, even in his hedgehog form the shit rat retained a level of his inhuman strength and resilience, but as he shuddered there in Licht’s clutch, it became apparent that Hyde strained even to maintain his whimper.  And while the pouting humanoid face of his servamp just looked stupid, the weak little rodent that squirmed and winced against two tiny sneezes looked… pitiful.

Licht made a decision before he could give it too much thought.

“Here,” as swiftly as if he were straightening his collar, Licht flipped open the lip of his hood and plopped the little ball of bristles inside, “hide in there then, if it’ll get you to shut up.”

The new weight tugged against his throat as Hyde fumbled about, writhing at first before realizing the cozy cradle Licht dropped him in.  Two small feet propped themselves up against his back as the hedgehog pointed its face toward his ear.  Hyde stalled for a moment, then his high voice chirped, “Really?”

Licht turned to leave, flicking off the lights behind him.  “Just until we get to the car.  You’ve made us late enough as it is.”

Hyde said nothing, and the silence almost made Licht stop.  But he ignored it, kept walking, leaving the lights of the too bright hotel room behind.  The hallway was empty, the only sound between them the hum of the ascending elevator, and as he waited for it to arrive, he felt a warm kind of static prickle in his chest.  He couldn’t quite decide what it was, or whether or not it was pleasant.  Maybe it was just a breath of nostalgia, from a short while before when his pet hedgehog was only that.  A companion to talk to.  A friend, even.  Licht wrinkled his nose.  It was ridiculous how immensely things had changed since then. 

And yet... as he stood there, feeling the weight of the critter on his back, it was almost as if they hadn’t at all.

The hedgehog pressed his nose into the back of Licht’s neck, and the featherlight warmth of a little tongue flicked once over his skin.  Then it curled back into its snug hammock and went to sleep.

-----

[Ti🌸]

Love it! Wasn't expecting that you'd do Servamp again so soon, and it's a very pleasant surprise. I like the idea of vampires being sensitive to the light in THAT way haha!

And yeah, I found that Dazai sneeze by total coincidence and I laughed my head off cause I wasn't expecting it. Just perfect.

(I love Free too btw)

[Dylan]

AAAA!!!! MORE SERVAMP WITH MY PRECIOUS HYDE  <3 

You seem to always write the characters I love the most (I'm definitely not complaining omg), and photosensitive Hyde is the most amazing idea ever??? How do you even think of these things???? Another thing, the way you write his sneezes is so perfect for him and they make me v happy

Also you're totally welcome, your fics are honestly so amazing that I can't help it