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cannibal-nightmares · 19 days

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Trust Fall: Euclid - (Chapter 1)

Stein has a complete breakdown at Spirit's door.

Writing stuff like this helps me defrag. Such is my river. This takes place sometime after anime canon, more or less. It's loose in that regard. I didn't intend for this to be a multi-chapter project, but I think it flows better this way. I also haven't been able to touch art since I've been stuck on this piece, so breaking it up will help in that.

Soul Eater - Stein x Spirit (ship is up to interpretation, SFW) // hurt+comfort, actually schizophrenic author, schizophrenic Stein, psychosis, panic attacks, paranoia, non-verbal Stein Word count - 3,322 -- [AO3 link]

As familiar and cradling as the dark quiet was, the short memory of a cadence echoed in his ears until he realized it hadn’t been a part of his dream and had him gasp in surprise. Two raps and a delayed third had stirred Death Scythe from his sleep that night. A pause, sitting up now, the sound blurred in his recounting over and over in deciphering where it had come from, what it meant, who it could have belonged to. Why was he awake again? Spirit found his face with his palm and blinked into the room, the window shining faint blue with moonglow, sighing and recollecting consciousness.

Someone was knocking at the door.

The weapon made polite and tossed on a pair of pyjama pants before padding out through the apartment to the entrance. If he were any more present, he would have flipped on some of the light switches along the way for whoever it was he was about to greet, but the nicety was left in the sheets.

Too, he forgot to even look through the peephole before fumbling the door open.

“Yeah?”

Now he was awake.

“Franken?”

At the threshold was a drooping figure of a man in a tired labcoat, his countenance evading sight, though what could be caught of his pale irises contrasted back and forth from his deep circles to pin-dot pupils. His eyes darted amongst the floor in the area around Spirit’s ankles, and Death Scythe had an instinct to comment on his unsteady swaying before his guest nearly collapsed into his chest. He didn’t hesitate to catch him, taking the embrace in like a parent holding a distraught child.

“Hey, hey…!” He cooed with worry startlingly frying his voice. “What is it?”

The response returned was smaller than anything Albarn had ever heard before.

“I need your help, Spirit.”

“Help with…” Death Scythe started, but tightened his arms grip as the desperate man went nearly dead-weight over his feet. Exhausted laughter stifled only by breathiness and the fabric of a night shirt escaped the meister’s lungs. “Wh– Hey, talk to me–” Spirit stammered, then recentered as the shattered professor wedged between them one hand to cover his own mouth and the other to tightly shield his eyes. His shoulders jerked as the tormented giggling no longer had a way to escape.

His partner had managed shenanigans before to weasel his way into Death Scythes's apartment for reasons to reveal themselves, but there was no doubt in his mind now that this was not the case. Still, he was admittingly afraid to move as the doctor was convulsing choked wheezes in his hold.

Spirit gently dipped his body to take a look at the professor’s face, but, as they separated, Franken just curled more into himself at the waist, his shoulders hunched more and more in an assured attempt to get smaller. He was tense down to every muscle; Spirit kept a calm hand to the meister's upper arm and couldn't help but acknowledge the high-voltage anxiety course through his own throat.

“Let's get inside, Stein,” Albarn gently pressed him in, granting a few shuffled steps, but barely as the weapon shifted to close the door behind them did Franken's stressed chuckling become audible again, stumbling one more step inward and going weak in the knees. Spirit gasped and made haste to catch him, but couldn't keep them both from collapsing to the floor, jammed to where the perimeter met the wall. His laughter was starting to sound less like giggling and more like a struggle to breathe, prompting Albarn to circle around low to meet his front. The strain in his squeezed-shut eyes reflected something beyond pain and annoyance with it; Stein death-gripped one side of his brow with a flexed hand, the other he met forcefully with the heel of his palm once, twice–

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Spirit heard a tremble in his own tone. He put his hand on top of the assaulting wrist, but didn’t make a strict attempt to hold it back. With his left, he swept heavy hair behind his ear out from the professor's face.

“None of that, dear. You're safe, Stein. You're safe with me.”

With the singular beat of pause did reality come crashing: The DWMA’s greatest meister had scouted and crumpled at Albarn's doorstep. Spirit had only once seen Stein in such a near-drastic state before, but he otherwise often kept aloof and to himself out of what he perceived as self-preservation. What brought him here now, Spirit didn't know, and that unsettled him like a chilled breeze warning storms. It was his immediate reaction to ask questions, but he could only figure how that was going to play out. Franken muted his laugh with his chin to his sternum.

“Stein,” Spirit decided clearly, his jaw trembling. “Take a second, Stein. Can you hear me?” Albarn adjusted so that he could sit more comfortably close before him, rubbing his partner's shoulder soothingly, hoping the touch would ground him and grant him the ability to listen.

“I'm sure your ears are ringing,” he hesitated, fighting the want to trail off out of uncertainty. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

The doctor grew impossibly smaller, his throat hitching a few times until his stifled laughter started to sound too uncomfortably like hyperventilation.

He finally let go of his face to take Spirit’s shoulder in search of panicked balance, each inhale becoming shorter than the last.

"Hey, come on now, Stein, listen to your breathing. Here, sit upright." Spirit hoped his tone sounded encouraging and not pressuring, but it was getting more and more difficult to compartmentalize his anxiety.

"Match me, Stein." He squeezed his shoulder with a confident hand. "Feel that?"

Franken kept his eyes strained closed, his head turned deep into himself and away. A short inhale, a shaky but gentle fist-tap to his forehead, a held breath, and at last forced a deep exhale. His right hand remained clutched onto Spirit’s shoulder. An inhale, a giggle, a flinch away, a held breath… He nodded to Spirit’s ask. Exhale, slowly…

A few more times, and the room fell quiet.

“What's happened, Stein?” Spirit released a sigh to himself, eyes long-since watering.

The meister didn’t seem to dare move from his awkward pose. The question was partly rhetorical, but attempting to answer seemed to gag him, his brow twitching in reflexes. A good moment, and his mouth opened to reply but was chased by his left hand to clasp it shut and a minute though frantic headshake. Eventually, that same hand shifted to further blind his vision as if he could see through his own eyelids.

All of this, he seemed afraid to let go of Spirit.

“That’s okay, Stein. Take your time.”

Death Scythe breathed deep, himself, blinking away tears of shock seeing his ever-strong meister at a loss for words, seemingly as though he had a gun to his head to keep from speaking. To say it was all uncharacteristic would have been a massive understatement.

“Let me help you up.” Albarn said softly. “You can sleep here, I know you need it.” He corrected himself too late with error lumping in his throat. “You look like you need it.”

He shifted only a little in preparation to help him stand, but as Stein accepted the support on his other side, mania neutralized his sheer strength against the exhaustion of fear and Spirit very suddenly realized his current position under his grip.

Death Scythe could have sworn he started to hear a faint yet piercing static-electric ringing.

The difference between them being he was able to ignore it.

His hands having shifted under and near Stein's elbows and forearms, Franken still with one to Spirit's shoulder, the weapon cleared his throat in transition.

“You ready?”

Stein didn't move but a slight pained spasm in his countenance. Spirit didn't, either, but he watched closely in the dim dark for any hint at a micro cue, as if a falling lock of hair could speak more to him. Further pause, and finally Franken gave a small nod followed by a quiet but soothing yet threatening and disturbed shushing to himself. Albarn wasn't sure if he should comment on it.

“I… Didn’t say anything, dear.” He brought his volume down, anyways.

“Not...” Stein gave a short sigh to the sound of his own voice, then very quickly hummed as if he were distracting from a mistake. “They…”

Spirit saw how instantaneous he was getting worked up again. “Hey, listen to me: You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I’m not supposed to tell you.” He choked, a misplaced anger in his eyes as he finally met Death Scythe’s in a spontaneous contact, then let a glint retreat him back to cornered despair as the focus was more disarming than anticipated, very clearly catching the sight of tears in his partner’s eyes.

“It’s not…” Stein’s throat hitched again, panic in his pupils, suddenly stuck in an unfaltering stare. “I–”

“I’m in no rush.” Spirit was bold to interrupt, sighing in hoping his meister would reflect him, would feel his soul attempt to calm. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I am here for you.”

A beat.

“Spirit?”

“Yes, Stein?”

Franken almost couldn’t believe the noise over his tongue. “Spirit, is this actually happening?”

Albarn had started to wonder the same thing, but his position made him the last person to be in denial. The question was nearly too ambiguous to answer directly.

“You’re in my apartment. It’s late at night. You’re wearing your favourite lab coat... I’m here to help you through this, whatever you may need.”

Stein started to half-narrow his eyes and turned his head to face the room, his line of sight still locked to his partner momentarily before snapping it away and flicking amongst the dark. The weapon hoped to Death he hadn’t said the wrong thing, though it seemed the professor’s muscles were finally untensing, even if just a little.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the guest room.”

Franken accepted his partner’s grasp with a squeeze under his palm, unlooking, and Spirit didn’t have to think twice about the weight he was about to hoist up, his foot kicking his hip closer to balance them both as they made it to their feet. What took Albarn by surprise, then, was Stein’s hurried instinct to hide his face into the weapon’s collar; he could feel within his meister the irregularities of natural strength and circumstantial physical weakness fighting against each other, his limbs shaking with effort.

“Sorry, I–” Stein forced a chuff, starting to pull away, only to yelp as if something caught his attention, returning himself to Spirit’s chest with a grimace, groaning scared annoyances followed by hushed manic giggling. He brought his more readily-free hand through his hair so that his fingers were around the stem of his screw between his ear and the head of the bolt, pressing his skull like keeping something from escaping.

“Shh, it’s okay, Stein. I’m here.”

He enveloped the junior inward, brushing his hand across his back like comforting a boy afraid of the dark. In his meister’s convulsions, though, Spirit was beginning to admit to himself the struggle of keeping himself together: Five whole minutes into this intervened altercation and he found himself unsure of where to redirect his self-doubt. No, “uncertainty” wasn’t the word, but so starkly seeing the contrast… Before him was the otherwise most fortified man Spirit knew, hiding from the whims of his own mind in the arms of his weapon; the reversed symmetry in the inverted mirror was truthfully overwhelming.

But, as he had before, Spirit took the role of guidance with unhesitated grace. If Stein wasn’t giving up, neither was he.

“Do you want me to lead you?”

Franken deepened himself, flexing his fingers through his hair repeatedly. Despite the different shade of distress, he counted through a breathing exercise and Spirit waited.

In, two, three, four…

As he considered his patience, Albarn took accord.

Hold, two, three, four, five, six…

In the rows did something stumbling find another: A hushed and scrambled cacophony of channels flipping on a television set fell steep with both hands gripping back on a yoke, the descent mere inches from the utmost height to the floor, like tripping over an edge in a nightmare… The other, a boat on a black sea with the mainsail long-pulled taught against unprecedented but not unexpected winds... Intangible and unlikely otherwise, the two came together in the image of a dream and all became but a tolerable buzz, a soothing pendulum...

Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…

Strain built intentionally tight in Spirit’s chest, but, with the exhale, tension he wasn’t even aware of released from his jaw and neck, his head a bit dizzy with the new air and the familiar scent of his meister. He continued to pause for several more rounds, several more heartbeats, the grip in Stein’s fidgeting lessening in white.

Spirit took his right hand and found his own shoulder where his meister still had not let go. With the smallest smile, Albarn lowered himself in gesture.

“Keep your eyes closed if you need to. I will guide you.”

Stein nodded. Shakily but earnest, he nodded.

The weapon considered prying Franken’s hand off of him to more comfortably take him by the wrist, but instead let his own fingertips suggest that his hand was fine right where it was, turning away and having the placement shift to follow suit. Stein couldn’t help an anxious muttering in the readjustment that had Spirit raise an eye to his attention. He concluded it was all self-soothing. Stein looked so little in his frame.

A few shuffled paces, they made it across the living room to the hall and the spare bedroom door, but a couple clicks of involuntary ratcheting caused Franken to yank back on his escort with wild eyes snapped open in a sudden shock.

“Stein!” Spirit yelped.

“Shhsh! No, no, we can’t– You can’t–” He brought both hands to the back of his neck, elbows almost touching in the middle.

Spirit jammed his nerves into a lower gear. “Slow down, Stein.” He tried to move non-threateningly to alter his focus, but the panic was becoming intoxicating. “What is it?”

“They’re waiting for us, you’ll see, you’ll figure it out. You’ll know.” Stein’s flickering eyes were just as they were when he showed up to the apartment: Frantic, lost, certain of something displaced. He flinched, he shushed, he giggled false reassurances as an apology for his child-like fear.

“Inside?” Spirit had to retain a quiver. “Did your soul perception tell you that?”

Stein went eerily quiet, his mouth just barely open. His lips met again when he allowed a tiny nod, his pindot pupils unchanging in the confirmation.

Albarn forced an amused huff with a playful smirk. “What are the odds a death scythe wouldn't be able to defend himself?” From his forearm that neared the door, an arching blade flashed out from his ulna to his wrist.

Something wild crossed Stein's face, but, this time, Spirit couldn't place what it was; maybe it was the shift in energy in the now-unwavering eye contact, the desperate nod that followed, the microexpression of curling-upward lips. Franken reached out to return his balance to Spirit.

The weapon turned the knob and pushed in–a bit awkward with his scythe unsheathed–half-expecting the darkness inside to spill out and swallow them whole, but, of course, the room was exactly as it were, save the faint luminescence of the moon. They crept inside, Stein mentally clearing the space from one corner to the next, and the blade was put away with a slight metallic scraping. Spirit threw back the comforter of the bed and circled on his heel to suggest his partner to sit on the edge, his static-electric unease gradually ebbing further from its peaks. He made sure to remain patient in his movements, kneeling to help Franken untie his shoes.

“When’s the last time you slept, hon?”

Stein watched Albarn’s meticulous fingers, but Spirit couldn’t tell if he was observing them as an anchor or tearing them apart like a riddle.

“I keep having nightmares.” He murmured, his voice like that of a child confessing to trouble.

Death Scythe pretended that was a conclusive response with a hum, though genuinely surprised and relieved he had an answer at all. He held the junior’s calf while loosening the tongue of his left shoe, slipping it off and setting it aside.

“I’ll…” Stein spoke again. “I’m not sure this isn’t one of them.”

Spirit looked up from his task once he made a pair, expecting to find the professor’s gaze, but it was a thousand yards away like a bullet that had long gone straight through him.

“Franken…” he said just to make noise. Albarn took his hand that rested in his lap and met his height, closing his eyes and sighed resolutely. He touched his forehead to his meister’s and brought his left hand to the side of his neck only thereafter. Stein jerked at the touch, but seemed to then lean into Spirit’s confidence of trust.

“You’re here with me. Nightmare or not, I am here to get you through this; you've made it all this way.” He stepped back to meet his eye contact. “You don't have to fight this alone, I'm here with you. I am here for you.”

Spirit's rambling went on a bit too long to prevent a trembling in his voice, but he didn't think twice in pressing through to convey his sincerity. He knew talking to Stein in that moment was like talking through a TV screen, but hoped to Death something slipped over the cross-reception to sell him worth-while reassurances.

Franken found himself in a different kind of daze, watching not the stitches fray apart, but the sutures sew together. This time, the eye contact torn away seemed more of an acknowledgement than a retreat, though still unfocused on anything in their plane. Spirit slipped his hands away and stood, returning, then, kind fingertips to the inside hem of the doctor's lab coat, but his wrist was met with a startled grab.

“You want to keep your coat on?” Albarn plainly asked aloud.

Stein shakily agreed with a met haze. “It's keeping me here.”

A softness passed over Spirit. “Alright, dear.” He met his meister's bicep gently in gesture, and Franken awkwardly complied to tuck his legs up onto the mattress and let his body sink into the plushness of the sheets. The beat prior, they both realized, would be the last time their eyes would meet that night.

“I don't know what decision led you to come to me, but I am grateful for your faith.” Spirit brought the blanket over Stein's torso and up to his collar, then leaned in to kiss him smally on the temple. “I will be just in the other room if you need me, Stein. And you can come to me for anything.”

The scythe returned upright and stepped towards the hall, his watch worriedly lingering over the junior who huddled the comforter to his chin.

“Do you want the door open?”

He didn't answer.

Spirit dipped his half in a nod after a moment.

“Good night, Stein.”

Death Scythe left the door cracked and took a few paces to stop dead-center in the living room. His ears were ringing. How long had they been ringing? The blackness of the corners of the walls sighed with a heaviness released from the weapon’s chest, and he stumbled a single step for balance while a cry unexpectedly welled up and out of his throat. He met his hands clasped to his mouth to keep from making noise, but nothing could stop the convulsions in his shoulders.

#soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #soul eater fanfic #my fanfic #soul eater stein #stein #spirit albarn #soul eater spirit #franken stein #actually schizophrenic author #spiritstein #steinspirit #spirit x stein #stein x spirit

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iviarellereads · 6 months

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Network Effect, Chapter 5

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which Murderbot sets somebody straight.

Murderbot calls back a lot of its drones to scout ahead and cover behind, heading toward Medical. It knows some intruder is controlling the targetDrones and guiding the ship through the wormhole, so it designates it targetControlSystem (I will use TCS). MB hopes TCS is sentient enough to hurt when MB kills it. MB also sets its drones to logging movement, even if they can't detect the stealth drones.

Some Targets arrive at the crew meeting area, but Target Three used a manual override to seal it from inside, and they can't undo it. They also can't access Art's systems themselves. MB decides Art must be dead, but it has to take care of the humans before it can have an emotion about it.

MB asks the Barish-Estranza pair how many Targets they've seen. When Amena clarifies that it means the grey people, they answer, at least five. MB has already identified six, making their intel useless, as usual. From its scout drones, MB sees Targets Four, Five, and Six reconfigure their helmets to cover their faces. It's not like it has enough drones to waste killing them that way anyway, but it's miffed all the same. Even its risk assessment module thinks the odds are bad.(1)

When they reach the next section, MB lets the humans through, then activates a manual release, and uses its energy weapon to melt a few key components. Ras asks Amena what it's doing, so Amena asks MB. Internally, it says it's using Art's schematic to close off the crew living section of the ship tactically. Aloud, it says it's creating a safe zone.

It loses two more drones to targetDrones on the way to Medical, but clears the way, remembering its time here with Tapan. It tells the humans to stay in the medical suite while it closes off the other hatches. When it returns, it asks where Perihelion's crew is. When she realizes Ras and Eletra aren't Art's crew, Amena takes MB's side in the questioning. Ras makes another comment about MB obeying Amena, who interrupts to say it doesn't even like her. MB thinks that's unfair, Amena didn't like it first. Ras tries, with Eletra's backup, to encourage Amena to tell MB to take orders from them, as the adults here.

I see I have some operational parameters to establish. I crossed the room, grabbed Ras by the front of his uniform jacket and slammed him down on the med platform. I said, “Answer my question.” Behind me, Eletra had flinched and backed away. Amena said, “SecUnit! My mother will be angry if you hurt him!” Oh, we were going to try that tactic, were we. I said, “You obviously don’t know how your mother actually feels about Corporates.”

Eletra and Ras finally admit they don't know where the crew is, they've only seen the Targets since they were brought aboard. Amena tells MB to stop being mean. MB says it's trying to keep her alive. Amena asks if MB is alright, the drone hit it real hard, and it doesn't look good.

MB tells Amena to take care of her leg, but without activating MedSystem. For a heartbreaking second, MB realizes it forgot Art is dead, but it continues that MedSystem was controlled by the bot pilot, who must have been compromised or it would've killed the intruders. All three humans look worried. MB points them to the emergency kits, and says it's going to go clear the section. It leaves Amena some drones, and from her expression, MB realizes she doesn't want to split up.

On the feed, Amena makes a quip about always having wanted drones. MB almost wants to banter, but walking around Art's corpse, it feels wrong.(2)

While scouting, MB wonders why the Targets were pounding on the hatch like they were, and notices that their helmets have turned stealth, though not their suits. MB wonders if TCS shares its information with the Targets, or if they have no idea what happened to 1-3. More evidence that they don't have access to Art's systems, if they don't know that 2 is in the lounge.

Thinking of Art again, MB starts working on a hack for TCS. It has to seize the ship before they get to the other side of the wormhole.

MB watches the medical suite through the drones, as the B-E adults question Amena gently. MB feeds Amena answers to some questions, to make sure the B-Es get the impression it wants them to. Amena ends up having to explain non-corporate polities to them, as they have no concept of non-corporate life. Eventually they get to exchanging real information, and they say they were attacked on a supply transport and pulled aboard in their escape shuttle.

MB finally realizes it still has a drone in the bridge, and has it start scanning for active displays. Ras and Eletra were never told why they were taken, only given the barest of necessities of life. MB still has too many places to look where it might find the crew's bodies. It starts to find inconsistencies, including with the story Ras and Eletra are feeding Amena, when it finds the cabin it believes they were stored in. The cabin doesn't smell as bad as it expected, and the furniture's not in as bad of shape. The cabins the Targets were using don't smell of humans, but of growth medium from agriculture.

At long last, Amena asks what the B-E ship was doing, and the adults say they were attempting recovery on a lost settlement, though it's proprietary information, so they can't share much. Amena says she's a junior intern and not from the Corp Rim, she can't share much with anybody.

Ras, as the less reluctant one, says they wanted to recover a viable planet. Eletra gives in, and together they tell the rest of the story. The locations of a lot of older planets were lost before the wormholes were stabilized, but researchers can find them in old data troves, and corporations can file for ownership to establish a colony. Some corps went bankrupt from their endeavours, and their colonies were lost. Amena and MB recognize part of Preservation's past in the explanation, as their first colony failed and they were relocated just in time.

At any rate, the B-E ship was attacked en route to the colony they believed they'd found. Or, that's what Eletra says before Ras can answer.(3)

MB finds a cabin that holds some artifacts of Art's crew, uniforms and holographic prints. As it has an emotion about how much Art loved its crew, MB has a sudden 5% performance drop. As MB makes its way back, the humans start talking about it again, and the B-E pair tell Amena SecUnits aren't reliable, their human tissue makes them unpredictable, and they go rogue and attack their contract holders. Amena, suppressing an emotion MB can't identify,(4) says she wonders why they'd do that.

MB grabs a bag of rations from a supply locker, and taps Amena in the feed to say it's coming back. It wonders about all the supplies onboard. Ras and Eletra speak as though they're under the impression Amena and MB have been onboard for many days, and Amena must be confused about how much time has passed. MB wonders if Art and its crew did more than stare at space, really not paying attention to the feed from Medical.

So I only had a 1.4-second warning when I stepped through the hatch and Ras fired a weapon at me.(5) For a human, his aim was great.

=====

(1) Oof, even with my theory that the RAM accounts for competence Murderbot doesn't, that's rough. (2) Murderbot is grieving and my heart is weeping. (3) I just find her rushing to answer very suspicious. What's she trying to get him not to say? (4) My personal guess is a bit of amusement with a soupcon of horror. She trusts MB with her life, unquestioning, even if it hadn't had plenty of chances to kill her already if it wanted her dead. But, I think she's smart enough to see how people who believe SecUnits can't be trusted, would mistreat them so much as to ensure the SecUnits want freedom from human rule. (5) Whaaaaaat? Why would he do this? What do he and Eletra know?

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #network effect #murderbot #secunit #amena #eletra (murderbot)#ras (murderbot)

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fangirlshrewt97 · 2 years

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Tale As Old As Time... (Part 8)

Well, I won’t delay too much with the intro because I know so many of you were annoyed with me about that cliffhanger yesterday.

Before we go to the story, let me just add in the links for an art piece by @burningsheepcrown and some incredible graphics + logo? for the story by @teddybat24 which can be found here.

Also, special shout out to @stuckyandlarrystuff, hope this lives up to the idea in your head.

Full work Ao3 link.

(Previous Chapter) (Next chapter)

///

“Hold my arm when we are entering the temple Bhairava garu. We are entering separate from the palace procession, the crowd will be thick, and easy to get lost in.” Tapan yelled into Bhairava’s ears as they made their way through the streets. The sun was about to set, but the city was alight with lamps and people, children running and laughing in all directions. They even passed a small stage where a group of teenagers had been playing out a scene from the Ramayana.

Bhairava looked on in wonder at how much joy seemed to be suffusing the air. As instructed, Bhairava hooked his arm into Tapan’s as they neared the temple, the crowd growing in number till Bhairava felt a little suffocated. He worried for a moment at the thought of how much expensive jewellery he was wearing but Tapan said that tonight there would be so much else to focus on, as well as so many more guards, nothing would happen.

Tapan managed to elbow his way to the front of the crowd though, letting Bhairava exhale a full breath.

Immediately, Bhairava’s breath caught instead at the sight of the King. Standing near the edge of the central shrine’s walkway, he was able to see King Raavana clearly. The man was just sitting there with his eyes closed, but he still exuded so much power. And his clothes. Rather than the customary black kurta and pants Bhairava had always seen him in, the silver jewellery and accents against his dark skin glowed like stars. He looked like the night sky taken human form. And that moon broach on the black turban…maybe he wasn’t the night sky so much as Mahadev himself, wearing the crescent moon in his hair.

Bhairava tried to focus on praying, but kept getting distracted by the King and the intense focus in his eyes that Bhairava could make out even from this distance. When the abhishekam finished, Tapan pulled Bhairava back through the crowd till they were in the outer edge. At one point Bhairava hissed as someone stepped on his foot, nearly falling. Tapan caught him though and hauled him till they were safely out of the crowd pressing inward.

“Are you alright, Bhairava garu?”

“My foot is a little sore, but I’m alright otherwise. You?”

Tapan huffed a laugh as he scratched his neck. “I have gotten so accustomed to being with the other palace guards, I guess I forgot how much getting stuck in big crowds like this feels.”

Bhairava smiled. “I agree. It has been a long time since I was able to attend any temple function.”

“What did you think?”

Before Bhairava could respond though, the crowd started to grow quieter. Bhairava looked around to see what could have caused the change, doing a double take when he saw the advisor, Kaaka garu? Addressing the crowd.

“What is he doing?”

“Oh, every month Kaaka garu gives a brief update about some of the major deals that have been made to the public. King Raavana insisted that only by being honest with the public, trust could be forged.”

A simple admission, but Bhairava felt his world shaken again. Every new piece of information just made the enigma around the King grow. Bhairava itched to unravel it all. He had never heard of any king ever having done such things.

The crowd’s noise grew and fell again and Bhairava’s breath hitched as the King stepped up. Then, his brows furrowed. Something was …off.

The speech was standard fare, it carried the message appropriately but the King...Bhairava would swear it felt like it was a different person. He didn’t process a single word of the speech.

“Hey Tapan…never mind.” Bhairava muttered as he realized how crazy he would sound if he asked him if that really was the King. Who else could it be?

Bhairava kept his eyes glued on the King throughout the speech. At one point he caught sight of those onyx eyes, and that feeling of wrongness settled heavier. Those were not his onyx eyes.

That is, those were not the onyx eyes Bhairava dreamed of. They looked…identical actually but something in them…no something was going on here. Something was off.

After that the crowd dispersed somewhat. Tapan told him to stay put, he would grab some food for both of them and they could head back to the palace before it got very late. Bhairava watched as the man maneuvered himself through the crowd towards the back of the table. He craned his neck when he glimpsed the sight of a midnight black kurta moving in contrast to the bright colors of the rest of the crowd.

He wanted to follow, to find him. To find the King and look into his eyes and see if he recognized them.

But he stayed where he was.

Tapan returned soon enough with two small parcels, a flush of triumph in his face that had Bhairava laughing. While Tapan did not speak a lot, he was always thoughtful with his words. Bhairava enjoyed hearing him talk about the kingdom and his job, the man’s pride for both so obvious. It made Bhairava ache for home, but at the same time, this place was starting to feel like home too. It had not even been a month. He wondered what that said about him.

They took the long way back to the palace, eating as they walked. Tapan kept pointing out various nooks and crannies, shops and buildings, explaining what all could be found there. Bhairava dutifully nodded along.

They parted once they reached Bhairava’s room, Tapan bowing low at Bhairava’s heavy gratitude. “Please Bhairava garu, it was a pleasure to accompany you. Shall I ask for Nandhini to come help you with undressing? She…added a lot of jewellery.”

Bhairava smiled sheepishly. “That would be very kind of you, thank you Tapan.”

Tapan had bowed and left.

Still feeling a little stifled from being pressed against the crowds, Bhairava went to his balcony, leaning against the railing as he tried to take in the city. The temple gopura looked almost hazy under the glow of all the diyas that had been lit upon it.

Onyx eyes flashed in his head again. Nowadays it felt like he was constantly under their gaze. He knew them so intimately, he was sure he could number the flecks of honey gold hidden in them.

They had not been the eyes he had seen on the man who had looked like the King giving the speech. He was sure of it.

Bhairava’s brows furrowed. What was going on here? How was it possible? It was one thing to hide a personality, but how did one change one’s eyes like that? If the King was capable of that kind of deception, what chance did Bhairava stand of ever getting to uncover his secrets?

As if summoned from his thoughts, a voice rang out.

“What has you s-s-so lost in your head Kala Bhairava?”

Bhairava jumped where he was standing. The King was leaning against the doorway. He looked…magnificent. The contrast of the brighter silver against the jet black lit the outfit as a whole. The King’s shoulders seemed so broad, as though enough to cover the breadth of the doorway, and even leaning against it, he looked …painfully handsome.

He swallowed when the man started walking towards him, so reminiscent of a predator about to pounce. A shiver ran through Bhairava at the thought of being pinned by him.

“Ma-Maharaj. Forgive me. I did not here you come in.”

“I knocked. But the door was open, so I let myself in.”

Bhairava bowed his head. “It is your palace Maharaj, you are free to wander.”

The King tilted his head at him. Something about his eyes made Bhairava feel stripped to the bone.

“Given how di-distracted you were, I am not surprised you didn’t hear me.”

Bhairava felt his cheeks flush with shame.

“Did something happen tonight?”

Bhairava thought back to the false King. He shook his head.

The King drummed his fingers against the railing. Bhairava’s fingers were caught by how broad they were. How strong his hand looked. He knew how strong they were. Could feel them in his memories and dreams.

“You are lying to me.”

Bhairava shook his head more violently. “No Maharaj. Forgive me. I am distracted tonight.”

“Alright. I will forgive you. If you t-t-tell me what you were th-thinking about so hard.”

“I-,” Bhairava hesitated. Should he tell the truth? Could he? But then he glanced at him from the corner of his eye and got stuck in that onyx gaze again. His onyx eyes. The ones he saw so often. The ones that sent a thrill of electricity through his spine. He gasped.

“Kala Bhairava?” the King asked, the smallest furrow forming above his eyes.

Bhairava shook his head. “No forgive me. The temple festivities were stunning Maharaj. Unlike anything we have in Udaigrah. You did very well with the abhishekam.”

Bhairava bit his tongue to cease his blabbering.

If the King was surprised or taken aback by any of Bhairava’s speech, he kept it well hidden behind his mask. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Bhairava bit his lip, turning away from the King, even as his mind screamed at him to not leave his back open to danger. “I…I was thinking about you, Maharaj.”

There was a pause, and time seemed to slow down around them as the wind died down, and even the drums went silent for a beat.

“What about me?”Bhairava curled his fingers atop the railing. He clenched his jaw as he felt a line of heat move closer to his back, unable to hold back the shiver. He turned abruptly, only to nearly crash against the King.

They were nearly chest to chest. And they were almost the same height but the King’s massive shoulders had him looming over Bhairava. The soldier pressed himself back against the railing.

“Ah…”

The King repeated his question, this time hovering his fingers over Bhairava’s hand in so light a touch it tickled. Bhairava couldn’t decide whether to press into or pull away from the touch. He felt rooted to the spot with those eyes boring into his own.

“What about me, Kala Bhairava?”

Bhairava felt a light tremble start from inside him. The King’s voice seemed deeper, and it was tugging low in his gut, the husky note making Bhairava want to bare his throat.

“Your eyes!” Bhairava blurted out.

The King’s forehead wrinkled.

“They um…they looked different when you were giving the speech at the temple,” Bhairava laughed nervously. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought it was someone else entirely, but that’s ridiculous.”

Suddenly the King gripped Bhairava’s arm in a hold so tightly, he was half certain it would bruise. He had stepped forward so he was literally pinning Bhairava, trapping him between the stone and his chest. His eyes looked wild. “What do you mean?”

“I-nothing Maharaj. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply anything-”

The King let go of him just as abruptly, stepping back so suddenly the space between them seemed to stretch endlessly. He paced for a moment, a troubled look in his eyes.

“Maharaj?”

The King looked up, and Bhairava felt his breath catch. Those eyes were so expressive for being stuck in a face with a permanent scowl. The King seemed to reach an answer to his internal debate because he suddenly stood up straight.

“Do not w-worry about it Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava absently played with one of the rings Nandhini had given him. What was with the mood swings. He nodded once. “As you wish Maharaj.”

The King’s eyes drifted to his hands. “Nandhini did a g-good job.”

“She was wonderful Maharaj.” Bhairava responded sincerely, grateful for the change in topic.

“Do you like the jewels?” the King asked, again piercing him with a look.

“I- Maharaj, you were very generous, but I am a mere soldier, I have no need-”

“Do you like them?” The King repeated. The words caught in Bhairava’s throat as he remembered how he had looked at the end of Nandhini’s work. A flush bloomed in his cheeks. He lowered his eyes as he nodded.

A finger came into view before it tilted his head up by the chin. He gasped. The King had come closer again. If Bhairava wanted, he could wrap his arms around the King’s waist.

“No need to be ashamed Kala Bhairava. Y-y-you look magnificent. They suit you.” That last word was said with such conviction, Bhairava believed him. His blush deepened.

The King traced a hand from his cheek down his neck, moving closer as he swiped his hand across Bhairava’s shoulder to run down his arm. The bangles jingled as the King ran across them. He bit his lip when the King’s fingers pressed against his tattoo.

Bhairava gasped as he trembled. “Maharaj- what…what am I? To you? Why all these gifts?”

The King’s eyes were indecipherable where they pierced him. “I don’t know what you are Kala Bhairava. I don’t know anything about you. Except that you are driving me crazy.”

Bhairava’s knees nearly buckled as the King leaned some of his weight against him. Maybe he should be trying to step away, to push the king, but all he wanted was to be closer. His eyes swept down to the King’s lips, and he swallowed when the King licked them.

“Were you lying when you said you were thinking about my eyes?”

Kala shook his head. “No Maharaj.”

“I think about yours too. Especially like this, lined with kajal. You should wear them like this only.” the King murmured as he swiped a finger over his cheekbone, right under his left eye.

Bhairava couldn’t contain his whimper.

The King’s hold tightened, his eyes sending fire racing through Bhairava. He felt his chest starting to heave.

“Ma-Maharaj.”

“You forgot something at the temple.” The King said as he continued to caress Bhairava’s face. The other man was having a hard time trying to form a thought. “I- what?”

The King stepped back again, Bhairava barely holding back the whine at this. He placed his hand into his kurta and pulled something. The light caught on it.

Bhairava gasped, paling when he swept up his dhoti to show one bare ankle. When… he paled. Someone had stepped on his foot.

“Maharaj, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t even realize, I swear I did not mean to be so careless-”

The King held up a hand. “The crowds can be difficult to navigate the first time.”

Bhairava’s fists curled behind his back.

The King glanced at the anklet. “They are masterpieces no?”

“Worthy of kings.” Bhairava admitted softly.

The King looked at him curiously. He tightened his fist around the adornment. “May I?”

“Maharaj?” Bhairava asked, confused what the King wanted.

The King knelt down on one knee. Bhairava yelped going on his knees too. “What are you doing?”

“Stand Kala Bhairava, then only I may put this on you again.”

“Maharaj this is-”

“Are you disobeying me?” the King asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bhairava gaped at him. There was no easy choice. Slowly, Bhairava rose.

His heart was thundering in his chest as heat flooded his face. He gasped when the King took his bare foot in hand, lifting it to place it on his thigh.

Bhairava felt like he was gulping in air as he watched the King unclasp the jewellery and then reclasp it around his ankle. His touch was dizzying. Especially when he drew the fingers above the ankle, up the length of Bhairava’s calf.

“Maharaj.” Bhairava cried out, feeling strangled.

Onyx eyes looked up at him. The King grasped the back of his knee with a strong hand, lifting it again to set it down, and rose in a single motion. Bhairava stumbled back, only to be caught by the King with an iron arm around his waist, and pressed against his chest.

Bhairava’s hands rested against the King’s broad chest. His hands fisted the black silk.

The King leaned in, close enough his nose brushed alongside Bhairava’s. He felt the nose digging into his cheek, right where his dimple would be. “Ask me, Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava choked, the silk wrinkling under his grasp as he pressed his forehead against the King’s.

“Maharaj…I…Will you…”

A knock at the door had Bhairava jumping again, pulling away from the King’s grasp. He was sure his face was on fire at this point.

The King handled the interruption a little better, letting his arms fall to his side.

“Bhairava garu?” a bubbly voice called out, “Where are you?”

It was the King who ended up replying. “Nandhini.”

Nandhini popped out of the room, gasping and bowing low when she saw the King there.

“Maharaj! I did not know you would be here.”

“Hmmm,” the King said. “I was just returning s-something to Kala Bhairava.”

Nandhini looked in the direction of said man, who was still hiding his face in the shadows.

Nandhini shrugged before smiling brightly. “Alright. The festivities were so wonderful Maharaj, and that tripundra! It was so big! It was beautiful.”

The king nodded his head. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence settled between the trio. Finally, the King cleared his throat. “Nandhini.”

“Maharaj?”

“I need you to prepare a bag for me. Clothes for three nights and four days. Ready by tomorrow. We leave day after.”

Bhairava whipped his head to look at the King. He was …leaving? Where? For what? What was Bhairava to do in the meantime?

Nandhini looked surprised before recovering quickly. “Of course Maharaj. Any specifics?”

The King shook his head once. “Anything is fine. I trust you.”

Those words seemed to make the young woman glow, the way she lit up, clasping her hands to her chest as the smile threatened to split her face. “Leave it to me Maharaj. I will pick out the perfect outfits for you.”

The king nodded in acknowledgement. He turned to Bhairava. Bhairava stood, terrified he would have to speak. He didn’t trust that his voice would work. He was still burning up from the inside.

That chest was even more firm than it looked.

“Good night Kala Bhairava.” The King said finally.

“Goo-Good Night Maharaj,” Bhairava replied shakily after a moment.

The King made his way to exit the room, only to turn at the last minute. “Nandhini.”

Nandhini had been walking towards Bhairava, but spun immediately. “Maharaj?”

The king reached into his pocket and pulled out something round, which he handed over to Nandhini.

“Laddu? My favorite!” Nandhini squealed excitedly as she clasped the sweet in her hand. “Maharaj! Thank you.”

“I don’t suppose there were any left for you by the time you ate?” the King said drily.

Nandhini giggled and shook her head. “Of course not. You know Arunama’s laddus are always gone by the second round of the feast.”

The King sighed. “How many times must I tell her to make more?”

Nandhini giggled, reaching out to pat the King’s arm. “Don’t blame her Maharaj, everyone knows how good they are, so they always end up taking extra.”

The King…the King smiled. Well, not a proper smile, just a quirk of the lips as his eyes shone with amusement, but it was enough to nearly send Bhairava crashing to the ground.

He had watched the whole scene silently, but that final smile, the thoughtfulness of the gesture of saving an extra sweet for a servant girl just because it was her favorite?

Bhairava’s chest was filling with too many feelings he couldn’t understand.

The King patted Nandhini’s head twice and left, not sparing another glance at Bhairava.

Bhairava tried to pretend that did not hurt.

“-rava garu? Bhairava garu!” Nandhini slapped his arm making him startle again.

Nandhini was looking at him, bewildered. “What happened to you? You look…not well.”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think I am.” Bhairava said as he allowed her to pull him up and drag him back inside to remove all the adornments.

His head was spinning by what had just happened. The phantom feeling of hands that had so far only been restricted to his head now slid all over his chest, leaving him squirming where he stood. The sooner Nandhini left, the better.

He would ask her to leave the kajal behind though.

///

Feedback is appreciated.

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you): @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fangirl-from-discord @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @ssabriel @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls

#rrr #jai lava kusa #jai kumar #jai x bhairava #kala bhairava #bhairava #magadheera #my fic #my writing #TAOAT

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hungrydolphin91 · 8 months

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BIG update this time for Xillia 2 Sister Addition, we've had several long sessions I wasn't writing down but I'll try to share what I can remember 😅

My sister pointed out the symbolism in the Frere apartment naming and I had a :o moment because I keep forgetting that French is a language 😅

Gaius joined in the second half of the chapter and I've been playing as him a bit, he's fun but a little tricky. It's amusing that his partner skill is to defend you, imagine having the king of Rieze Maxia as your bodyguard 😅

We explored the Mon Highlands and those icy caves nearby and for some reason they're chock full of French toast??

And also Hazardous Liquid. Sis: "That's the secret ingredient to their French toast."

We got the knock off Bunnykins in Elize's chapter and both agreed it seems like the kind of thing a shady merchant like Alvin would sell 😂

There's a bit of a gap here because I actually let my sister play without me while I was... otherwise occupied (*coughplayingpersona 4cough*) so I missed another one of Alvin's chapters (Sis: "Him and Yurgen broke up"), and she also started chapter 9:

Me: "So what'd I miss?" Sis: "We're in the square dimension and there's a voice." Took me a couple second to process that one 😂 but I actually like this chapter quite a bit, the stuff with the Arc is fascinating even though it never gets mentioned again 😅

The battle music changed to be Milla's and it's a bop, probably a nod to Fractured Milla before she goes away 😔

A cat found us shamisens while we were in the Ark and my sister equipped them to the whole party. Me: "The rest of the party is going to wonder what the heck happened in this fractured dimension that made us form a band 😂"

The music in the Ark is so soothing, and it has those fun statues that play music from other Tales games so I got to flex my knowledge there a bit 😌

The sentient guardian Waymarker thing wants to turn everyone into digital data. I spent the whole battle trying to come up with a pun based on file types and the name "Elle" but all I came up with was "HTM-Elle," someone let me know if you have a better one 😅

I've been sprinkling in some reminders of the overall lore, like the fact that Julius took Ludger's pocket watch for a while and that Elle's father apparently had one and that the ability to travel between dimensions is a Kresnik thing. She speculated if maybe Ludger was Elle's dad in another dimension... 🤫

My sister loves to play dress up every half hour, here's a screenshot of Ludger so you can know my pain:

Whenever I play Milla, Jude just stands there and shouts "I've got your back!" without doing anything. When I switched to Jude though, Milla jumped right in front of him while I was trying to hit an enemy. Sis: "See, you've got her back, literally!"

I didnt realize there was a skill that pets Milla cast in midair but that's incredibly fun to abuse, I feel like Muzet casting death spells from above 😂

We keep laughing at how Fractured Milla shouts "HEY!" every time she levels up. Sis: "She sounds like she's trying to keep kids off her lawn."

Since I'm not playing Ludger I've been able to enjoy some link artes I never saw, including one where Rowen and Gaius ride a paper airplane together 😂

And since my sister IS playing Ludger I get to get startled everytime she uses Hammer Toss in my vicinity. Me: "Would you stop throwing malatov cocktails around?!"

Both of us were wondering what the others see whenever Ludger uses the Chromatus. It seems like he's kinda freezing time, so he and the enemy would suddenly appear somewhere else whenever time resumes, or just be gone if he beat them all. Imagine blinking and a giant monster is suddenly dead 😅

I forgot how so much important lore is shoved into confusing and not fully explained side quests, like everything with Marvin and Claudia 😓 I wasn't sure how to explain all that to my sister without spoilers but at some point I'll try to fill her in based on my own fuzzy knowledge

Speaking of which theres a sidequest with a guy named Aaron who apparently has beef with Ludger and was all "Don't expect me to forgive you for this," and we were all "??? Who are you again???"

After seeing the skit where Nova complains about Vera's shyness, my sister wanted to ship her with Ludger simply to watch them both squirm in silence 😂

That's the gist of the most recent stuff, though I'm probably forgetting some things. We're in Fenmont currently starting Muzet's chapter but after that is the final waymarker, that's gonna be fun to see 😏

Masterpost link here

#dolphin plays x2 #tales of xillia 2 #sorry if these are weirdly worded or boring it's hard to convey our jokes and reactions well through text format #my sister really enjoys it though mostly for collecting shiny things and paying back the debt #ive told her before the reward for paying it all of sucks real bad but she wants to do it anyway #that's fine but im leaving the room when the teepo vore comes on. the tethering skit was bad enough 😖

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voidthewanderer · 24 days

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I was gonna do this under a read more, but fuck it. You get to deal with me now.

Nothing is truly original and people need to get over this fact.

Yes, you can make original work, but someone, somewhere is going to find a correlation to an existing thing. It doesn't matter if the original work's artist has never seen what they're referencing, it came from somewhere.

The last truly original thing I have ever seen be created was the Cannonball Loop in Action Park, NJ. And you wanna know something about this monstrosity?

This thing never opened to the public because it was too dangerous even for the testers. Gene Mulvihill was apparently trying to pay people to try this death trap. His own son was even hesitant to try it. The last truly originally creative thing I've ever seen was a death trap waiting to happen.

Human creativity builds off of what it sees; changing it into something for an individual's own palette. A good portion of the time, it's a subconscious thing, you don't even realize that you create something that's similar to something else. It could be something even as simple as "I saw this thing a while back" and just forgot until you see it again.

I linked this before, and I'll link it again. TomSka's video on plagiarism in the arts. He talks specifically about his own experiences with plagiarism (both actual and not actual plagiarism). In all honesty, I do urge every creative to watch.

youtube

I shared this a while back specifically for his "Somerton Scale". Here it is typed out.

No Correlation -> Parallel Thinking -> Subconscious Appropriation -> Inspiration -> Influence -> Reference -> Allusion -> Derivative -> Imitative -> Cloning

So, obvious, the first point (no correlation) and final point (cloning) are straightforward. No plagiarism and blatant plagiarism. It's those in between points that I see far too many people get their fucking panties in a bunch. Most specifically, the two points I want to talk about; parallel thinking and subconscious appropriation.

The first two points kind of go hand in hand. Parallel thinking is the process of two unrelated people having the same idea. Now, why do I personally say that this goes hand in hand with subconscious appropriation? Well, there's a reason why certain riffs in music are called earworms or why an idea might sometimes be called a brainworm. You get an idea from somewhere that you love and you make it your own.

Let's take, for example, I dunno... Counting freckles on your partner. I can't begin to tell you how many times I have read this, quite frankly trope in free harlequin ebooks on Amazon. I used to have time to read a lot when I was younger and I didn't care what it was, as long as it was reading material. Did they all steal that idea from one another? No, they didn't. It's honestly a very human thing that actual real humans do. A person doing something to create a mental image of their partner; wanting to engrave every little detail into their minds. That is an adorable thought and a lot of people do it. I know I would.

It's these two points that I always see people throw the biggest, most absolute infantile tantrums. And, almost 98% of the time, it's always the only correlation between two pieces is the same idea. Yeah, you know my "Elect Death for President" art I recently did? I highly doubt I'm the first person to make art of such a dark concept. Especially since I even got the idea from the Wednesday 13 song of the same name. I'm also writing a fic based off the Creature Feature song A Gorey Demise, which was based off of The Gashlycrumb Tinies. Just because I'm using the lyrics of the song for the chapter titles, it doesn't mean it's plagiarism. Now, if I used the lyrics for the chapter titles, didn't tell anybody that it was based off of a song, and possibly changed the name of the story? Yeah, that might be a different story. But even then, that would more fall into the category of allusion (thinly).

As I previously mentioned, we see and hear things we like, it doesn't matter what the media is. Music, stories, movies, tv shows, even just the world around us, and locks it away into a place that we call our own. We make up our own little ideas based off of these things our minds take in; it gets twisted into our own personal tastes. Sometimes people just don't remember where they might get an idea from. Or, they do know, but it's just a small thing, it's not worth mentioning. That doesn't make an idea plagiarism.

Now, I wanna swing the topic slightly for a moment. Character creation and theft. I'm gonna be blunt with you guys, some of my characters are stolen... to a degree. What do I mean by this?

Savino and his brothers; they were all my and an ex-friend's rendition of The Midnight Crew from an old roleplay we'd had going on for like two years. Yes, Homestuck Midnight Crew. By the time I actually took control of the lot of them, they were shadows of their former selves; the only thing distinguishing them from what they were originally being that I hadn't actually made them human at that point or changed their names. If I'd never said anything, there's literally only like two people who would've known that they were originally a roleplay version of the homestuck characters.

The same thing with Jason. He's my former Turbo from my Wreck-It Ralph rp blog days. Now, granted, my Turbo was already pretty disjointed from WiR even in his initial creation, but once I left that era of my life, I didn't want to just throw him into the pit. I still wanted to use him for something; I loved him too much to do that. A fresh coat of paint, a new backstory, and he's now a part of my Fallout line up. Doesn't negate where he came from, however. But, again, if I hadn't said anything, only maybe two or three people would have known.

However, these characters are so disjointed from their original content that they're not that anymore and haven't been associated with their former selves for a long time. Without mentioning anything, most people would be none the wiser unless you previously knew me from those eras of my life. And I am still further developing these characters to further disjoint them from their origins. Vague references at best (Savino and his brothers initials being the same, as well as their crew still being called the Midnight Crew or Jason still sporting the facial markings I'd originally given my Turbo).

There's no real excuse to steal another person's character, however. Outright laying claim or using another person's character for any reason, especially without doing any sort of changes is no different than plagiarism. And, quite frankly, you must be quite the miserable person to do as such. Kinda makes me wonder, what else are you hiding.

Sure, it's possible to have a character that's similar to somebody else's without realizing it until someone points it out. It does happen, quite a lot. However, I also see it more often than naught someone just sees a character, hates how the original creator is portraying them, and then steals it. When they're called out about it, they throw a temper tantrum, claiming that it's totally their own character for sure. Some people are just cheeky cunts and extremely blatant about it.

Theft/plagiarism isn't something that should be taken lightly. Nor is it something that you should just throw around willy fucking nilly. It's a serious claim. And to claim something that you know doesn't actually fall under plagiarism/theft, honestly makes you a shit human being. It's time to learn that not everything you do isn't actually original.

I'll be the first to tell you, just because I ran my shit through a plagiarism checker and got 100% original content? Doesn't mean that I'm not the first person to come up with a brothel in a church or a scummy bad guy kidnapping someone for leverage to rule something. I'm not the first person to write two friends having drunken sex. And I know I won't be the last. You certainly aren't going to be the first to create your ideas either. But you also won't be the last, either.

Just, sit in your little bubble and create. And stay in your own goddamn lane. Unless it's actually, legitimately a beat-for-beat recreation of your work; just shut up. It's not as original as you might think it is.

#shut it void #ngl i'm fully prepared to possibly lose some followers over this but that's ok

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leia505 · 3 years

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The Sunrise and Your Sins | Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader (street racing AU)

This fic takes place in the same universe as “deciphered” by @hoeneymilktea! Here is the link to the car visuals and spotify playlist, as well as AO3 where the fic is also posted if you prefer to read on there.

Huge shoutout to @aikk00 for creating the fan art that inspired both this story and “deciphered”.

And another shoutout to @hoeneymilktea for pushing me to write this fic, if you’re here from deciphered I hope you enjoy this addition to the deciphered universe!

Pairing: Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW(later chapters)

Word Count: 10k

Tags: Street Racing, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Inspired by Fanart, References to Drugs, Aged-Up Character(s), Original Character(s), Inspired by The Fast and the Furious, Inspired by Tokyo Drift, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Mystery, Drama & Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Being a mob boss’s daughter had always been a dangerous life, but Tetsurou Kuroo—street racer and mob henchman—made it all seem easy. Although the mutual attraction between you two was undeniable, the darkness that encompassed your family took precedence over your love. Surrounded by lies and deception, you and Kuroo must work together to uncover the truth of your brother’s death and your father’s shady business.

“Hey there kitten.”

“Is that really how you want to talk to a yakuza boss’ daughter?”

“It’s not like your old man’s here to listen.” Kuroo says, pulling up a chair to sit close to you. You turned your head to stare him in the eyes as he smirked at you.

“You think a man like my father doesn’t have his own office wired?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo chuckles nervously, looking around your dad’s office. Just some harmless flirting boss. Nothing to worry about here.” He says loudly, turning to you with a wink. You can’t help but smile, you’ve always enjoyed the times Kuroo came to see your father. You weren’t going to try to deny the fact you found him attractive, but there’s no way your father would allow it. A mafia princess and a drug smuggler? What a cliché.

Your father’s sudden entrance startles you both, and Kuroo instinctively stands up to bow. You remain seated, knowing that the power he held over this city applied to everyone but you.

“Hello father.” You greet your dad as he sits in his office chair at the front of the room. He definitely has a demanding presence, which is to be expected from the man who has the Tokyo underground in his pocket. Kuroo had power, and definitely had some authority, but he was a guppy compared to your father.

“Sit, Tetsurou.” Your father says, motioning for Kuroo to take a seat. He quickly sits down in his chair, attentively looking at the mafia boss for further instructions.

“So, as you could probably guess, I have another job for you.” He says, pulling a file out from the locked cabinet of his desk. He laid the file open in front of him and turned to Kuroo. “There will be a shipping container coming in this Friday from Cuba. I’m going to need a team of your best racers to get it from point A, the ports, to point B, headquarters.” He explains, motioning for Kuroo to stand next to him to look over the details.

“Seems easy enough, standard job.” Kuroo says, studying the papers in front of him. At this moment, you can’t help but wonder to yourself why exactly you’re there.

“Exactly. Nothing new, just the same old.” Your dad agrees. “However, this is a bigger job. And we do have some eyes watching us nowadays. So what I need from you is to take the lead and choose your team. Approved by me, of course.” He says, motioning for Kuroo to take his seat again.

“How many people are we talking?” Kuroo asks.

“You, maybe two others. And your colleague, Snake Eyes, taking the lead on logistics.” Your father explains, leaning back in his chair. “Snake Eyes will be essential to this one, we need eyes and ears on the route. The less run-ins with the authorities, the better.”

‘Snake Eyes.’ You thought to yourself. ‘Isn’t that Kenma? The nerdy looking mechanic?’

“I’ll let Kozume know.” Kuroo says, nodding. “I think Oikawa and Shinsuke would be a good fit for this one. Fast, experienced, trustworthy.”

“Oikawa…he’s the one that calls himself Cypher correct?” You father questions.

“Yes sir, head of Seijoh Brawlers. Shinsuke goes by Sly Fox, head of Inarizaki Bois.”

Your dad let out a hearty chuckle, startling both of you. “You kids and your code names. You would think you’re playing spy.” Kuroo nervously chuckled in agreement.

“No playing here sir, we’re all in.” Kuroo says, giving him a confident grin.

“That’s what I like to hear, Tetsurou. With that attitude, you’ll fit right in at the grown-up table.” Your father says, getting up from his chair. You roll your eyes, bored of the conversation between the two criminals.

“Why am I here?” You ask, causing both of them to turn to you as if they just realized you were there. You rarely sat in on your father’s meetings, so you were confused from the start as to what your purpose was.

“Oh sweetheart! I almost forgot, Kuroo has a present for you.” Your father says brightly, waving his arms at you, motioning for you to follow Kuroo out the door.

You peered your eyes at Kuroo suspiciously as he smirked at you. You continued to follow him out the door of your family’s Tokyo home, with your father following behind you.

As the three of you exit the house, your eyes fall on a bright pink car, with a giant white ribbon tied around the hood.

“Is that-“You begin saying, quickening your pace to get closer to this absolute beauty.

“A Honda S2000? Yes, yes, it is.” Kuroo says, leaning against his car, a cherry red Nissan Veilside 350Z. He holds up a pair of car keys, which he tosses to you.

“It’s mine?!” You exclaim. You turn to your dad, who smiles warmly at you.

“A gift, from the Nekoma crew to our family. Me and your mother have enough cars, so I figured you could claim this one.” He explains, chuckling.

“Thank you!” You wrap your arms around him, embracing your father in a hug. He tightly hugs you back, the same way he always has. You turn towards Kuroo. “And thank you, you and the whole Nekoma crew. How’d you know I wanted pink?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I just guessed. Seemed like your color.” He says, winking at you. He slyly opens his car door, climbing in. “Thursday night, I’ll bring the team?” He asks, turning towards your dad.

“Yes, and make sure they bring their cars as well. I need to see for myself what type of speed we’re working with.” Your dad says, switching into business mode seamlessly.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, closing his car door and rolling his window down. “I can promise you sir, the one thing we will surely not be lacking is speed.” He says, revving his engine, speeding out of the driveway and down the dark street. The roar of his engine could be heard long after he disappeared from our sight, breaking the silence of the upper-class neighborhood he sped through.

“Sweetheart, Tetsurou and his boys are here if you’d like to sit in on the meeting.” Your father says, peeking his head into your room.

“I’ll be right down dad.” You reply, getting up from your bed. You heard their cars coming from miles away, so you were already prepared to meet them downstairs. You were curious as to why your father suddenly invited you to sit in on his business meetings, he never really allowed you to take part in your family’s activities. Nevertheless, you were glad you finally had something to keep you entertained while locked away in your home.

As you walked down the stairs, you heard Kuroo��s voice speaking to his friends, and you were caught off guard by how mature he sounded. He must have known you and your father were coming down the stairs, so he put his big boy voice on to impress your father.

“Hi.” you say shortly, causing all of them to turn their heads to you. You finally got a good look at all of them, and they were all exactly what you’d expect street racers to look like. Piercings, tattoos, just a bunch of tough looking guys with skeptical faces as they looked up at you.

“Is this the one you keep bringing up?” a guy with shoulder length bleached blonde hair asks, turning to Kuroo. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was a drastic change from Kuroo’s deep, commanding voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kuroo says, awkwardly clearing his throat, tugging at his collar as he avoided your gaze.

“Hola mami.” The brunette one says to you, shooting you a devilish smirk as you descend further down the stairs.

“The fuck is wrong with this one?” You ask Kuroo, opting to stand next to him. You tilt your head towards the brunette guy, who was still staring at you like a luxury car.

“He lived in Argentina for a few years and now he’s just...like that.” Kuroo says. “You kind of get used to it. He also doesn’t care that no one but him knows Spanish.”

“Tetsurou! Glad you all made it here in one piece. Shall we move this to my office?” Your father says, waving his arm down the hall to the large double doors that lead to his office, the space where all meetings, illegal or otherwise, were held.

The five of you made room for your father to lead and followed him down the hall. You were keenly aware of the fact Kuroo stood almost directly behind you, mainly because the smell of his cologne was too strong to ignore. Kuroo was just like that, a presence you couldn’t seem to get out of your head.

Upon entering the office, you choose to take your usual spot on the comfortable sofa chair you put in your dad’s office over a decade ago. When you were younger, more naive to the truth to your father’s business and your family’s wealth, you frequently accompanied your father in his office on long work nights, falling asleep in the chair that was kept out of the way to keep others from taking your special spot. That’s always how your dad was, making sure to accommodate you. Anything for the princess.

“So!” Your father announces, clapping his hands together, causing you and the blonde one to jump slightly. “Don’t be shy, introduce yourselves.” You roll your eyes at him, thinking that he sounded more like a grade school teacher than a yakuza boss with hundreds of skeletons in the closet.

The 4 men stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not knowing how to start. Everyone except the silver haired guy wore a bomber jacket, with names printed on the back. The brunette wearing a white bomber jacket spoke first. You noticed the teal lettering on his jacket that read ‘CYPHER’.

“Tooru Oikawa, sir. Cypher.” He says, bowing at your dad.

“Uh, Kenma Kozume. People call me Snake Eyes sometimes.” the bleach blonde spoke next, his voice quiet and skeptical.

“Kita Shinsuke, aka Sly Fox.” The silver haired guy in the plain black hoodie says, giving your father a slight head nod.

“And obviously you know me.” Kuroo says. He turns to face you, flashing his signature grin. “Your turn.”

“(y/n).” you introduce yourself, giving them a small wave. “If you haven’t figured out who I am then you’re pretty slow.”

“My daughter, everyone. Excuse the attitude.” your father remarks, shaking his head at you. “So, I assume you filled them in on the details?”

“Yes sir, they’ve all been filled in on the job. Kenma running point on logistics, the control tower of the team. The three of us running the cargo from the ports to the warehouse. Basic rules, don’t be dumb, and don’t get caught.” Kuroo says. The other men looked at him, nodding slightly in agreement.

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you to take the lead here. Keep this up and you may find some more jobs like this in your future.” Your father gets up from his chair, pulling more files from his cabinet. He hands each of the men their own file, which they all take and begin looking over. “You’ll find all the smaller details in there, as well as numbers to contact in case you run into trouble. You’ll also find a receipt, with your pay for this job highlighted. I hope you find it accommodating to your work.” He says, studying each of them as they flip through the files.

“Definitely accommodating.” Kita comments, nodding his head as he peers down at the file. You begin to wonder when you’ll be able to see the fine tuned details, to truly see everything your father does in a day. So much of who he is still remained a mystery to you, and perhaps you found some comfort in your own ignorance.

“Thank you sir, our teams greatly appreciate your contributions.” Kuroo says, bowing once again to your father.

“It’s really no problem, after all, who doesn’t like a good street race.” Your father says with a smile. “And, in a way, I feel as though keeping your teams afloat helps me remember my son.”

“You have a son?” Oikawa asks, looking up.

“Had a son, yes.” Your father replied sadly. You winced, not expecting to have to relive these memories. “He passed in a racing accident. It was a few years ago. I think it was before your kids’ time.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was his name? Or, what team was he on?” Kenma asks.

“Keishin. He used the last name Ukai when he raced, to get away from our family name. I believe he raced for Karasuno?” Your dad says, bringing up more and more painful memories.

“Karasuno Killers? They’re getting back on the scene nowadays. I remember someone talking about how they stopped coming to races a while back, but they just recently started racing again because they have a whole new team.” Kuroo says.

“Really? Well, I might just have to come watch a race one of these days. For old times sake.”

‘Old times sake my ass.’ you thought to yourself, knowing the truth about your father and your deceased brother’s relationship. Your father hated racing, and resented your brother for choosing Karasuno over the Sakanoshita name. At the time of your brother’s death, you couldn’t help but wonder if your father was truly upset, or if he was putting on another facade, the same way he was now.

“Well, speaking of races, you wanted to see our cars, right?” Oikawa says, clearly trying to redirect this depressing conversation.

“Oh yes, of course! I want to see for myself what you’re all going to be working with tomorrow.” Your father says, walking out of his office towards the front of the home.

Outside, there were 3 cars parked in the driveway. You recognized the models, and you could guess which cars were Oikawa and Kita’s just from the colorways, white and black, just like their outfits.

“Mi amor.” Oikawa says, looking at his car. “Mazda RX-7 Veilside Fortune. ‘97.”

“He would marry his car if he could.” Kuroo comments, tilting his head towards you. You laugh, looking up at him.

“Nissan Silvia. 2002.” Kita says, walking up to his car and opening the door. The smell of smoke was strong, and he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the middle console. “Mind if I smoke?” Your father nods, and Kita proceeds to light one and take a puff.

“Kenma, no car?” Your father asks, turning towards him. Kenma seems caught off guard by the sound of his own name.

“Uh, no sir, not tonight. I have cars, but I don’t drive all that often. I don’t see the point in risking my investments.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, he’d rather be in the passenger seat with me driving and risking my car.” Kuroo says, playfully shoving Kenma’s shoulder.

“That reminds me, I have a proposal for you Kuroo.” Your father says, getting everyone's attention. “Would you be willing to let (y/n) ride with you on this job?”

“Excuse me?” You say, interrupting the conversation. “Why am I going? You never let me go anywhere, but suddenly I’m running drugs for you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms across your chest.

“Well, sweetheart, I figured it was time.” Your father says, taking a step closer to stand in front of you. “I was around your age when your grandfather started allowing me to learn the ropes of our family’s business. You are the only one who can continue the Sakanoshita name. I think this is a good first job for you.”

“For the record, it's no problem. She can ride with me. I promise she’ll be safe.” Kuroo says, inserting himself into the conversation between you and your father.

“So, does this mean I finally have something to do? I can start leaving the house again?” You ask, hopeful that this decision from your father will mean more freedom. Things haven’t been the same since Keishin died, and your father kept you under a microscope, claiming it was for your safety.

“We can talk about new safety rules after this job. Deal?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Deal.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“Looks like the princess is growing up.” Kuroo comments, smirking at you.

“Hope we don’t scare her too much.” Kita says jokingly.

You scoffed at him, excitement growing inside of you as you realized this will be the start of you growing into a leadership position in the Sakanoshita family, becoming the face of this giant organization that ruled the Tokyo underground. “Nothing scares me.”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your head together before the job. ‘What does a person bring to a drug smuggling? What does someone wear? Fucking jeans?’

‘No.’ you thought to yourself, grabbing a pair of leggings. What if you needed to run? Well then you need sneakers too. And a warm jacket, just in case. Do you bring a phone charger? Would it be weird to ask Kuroo to plug your phone in while you’re smuggling drugs together?

“What the fuck am I doing.” You say out loud to yourself, beginning to question your own sanity. You let out a deep sigh, trying to clear your head.

You eventually decide on leggings, sneakers, and a cross body fanny pack to hold your phone and smaller things. Before exiting your room, you hesitate.

You make your way to your bedside table, opening the drawer and reaching to the back, pulling out a small handgun. You take it out, along with a note that was tucked underneath it.

‘Stay safe. -Keishin’

This was a gift from your brother, before he passed. You kept it close by, both as protection and a heavy reminder. Your family name carried a lot of weight, which the both of you felt smothered by. You both understood the dark side of the luxury you lived with, saw the blood that stained your family’s money. But now, with him gone, it all fell on you. Everything depended on you.

You make the decision to take it along with you, holstering it to your thigh. ‘Better safe than sorry’, you thought to yourself. A regular night could turn deadly in an instant, something that you were very familiar with given the way your brother passed.

You exit your room and descend down the stairs, walking out the front door to where everyone was waiting with their cars. Oikawa was busy on his phone, and Kita was further away smoking a cigarette. Your father stood with Kuroo, most likely discussing the job.

“Where’s Kenma?” You question, walking up to stand with Kuroo and your dad.

“He’s back at the garage. Don’t worry, he has eyes and ears at us at all times.” Kuroo says, pointing at the earpiece he wore. “Here, one for you as well.” He hands you an ear piece, which you put in, immediately hearing the sounds of a video game, most likely from Kenma.

“Are you ready?” Your father asks, turning towards you. You nod in response, and he looks over you, stopping and furrowing his eyebrows when he sees your gun. “Is a gun really necessary?”

“Keishin would have wanted me to bring it. Better safe than sorry, like he used to say.” You say, knowing that bringing up your brother was the easiest way to get your father to comply with whatever it was that you were doing.

He nods, giving you a sad smile. “You’re right. He was always the cautious one.”

“The smart one too.” You say, smiling nostalgically. “Are we all ready to go?” You ask, turning to Kuroo.

“Yup, all set.” He replies, swinging the passenger car door open for you. “I’ll have Snake Eyes let you know when we reach the ports, and again at the warehouse.” He says, turning to your father.

“Perfect.” Your father says. He turns to look at you once more, then back at Kuroo. “Bring her back in one piece.” He says, holding out his hand.

“You can count on me, sir.” He says, giving your father a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the business your family was involved in was always so masculine, so formal. It was something you would have to adjust to when you begin taking part in it.

Kuroo closed your car door and nodded to the other two racers, who immediately got into their cars, turning their engines one. He climbs into the driver’s seat of his car, turning the key in the ignition, the loud roar of the engine startling you. He chuckles, realizing he made you jump.

“Mic check. Roll call.” You hear Kenma say in your ear.

“Tap once to speak, twice to mute.” Kuroo says, pointing to the earpiece. He taps once, and speaks. “DK here, with Princess in the passenger seat.” He says, grinning at you.

“Ew, keep it PG-13 dude.” Kenma says, making you laugh.

“Cypher, ready to roll.” You hear Oikawa say.

“Sly fox.” Kita says shortly.

“And Snake Eyes. Ready when you guys are. All clear on the short route to the ports, I’ll let you know if that changes. Stay safe everyone.” Kenma says, muting himself.

“Alright, we all know the route, I’ll take the lead, Sly Fox you take rear. You already know the rules, don’t be stupid, and don’t get caught. I’ll check back in when we’re 5 away from the ports.” Kuroo says, taking the parking brake off and switching gears, the car beginning to move.

Everyone mutes themselves and begins driving off, away from your wealthy neighborhood and towards the city’s industrial district. The Tokyo skyline was in your rear view mirror, and your heart beat faster and faster as you went further away from your home, the place that you’ve been stuck in for years now.

“You don’t get out much do you?” Kuroo asks, breaking the silence.

“Not really, no. My father doesn’t allow me to go many places now, ever since my brother died. He says it’s too risky, which I think is bullshit.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Kuroo laughs. “I knew you weren’t just some obedient princess. Look at you, all rebellious.”

“I’d be more rebellious if I were able to do anything. This...is my first time out of the house in 6 months. The last time was just for the dentist.” You say, awkwardly laughing at yourself.

“Well, then we better make the most of it, right?” Kuroo says, switching gears, now going 105 km/h on the expressway.

“Kuroo what if we get pulled over?” You ask nervously, knowing the risks he was taking just to show off.

“Relax, (y/n), I know what I’m doing.” Kuroo says, flashing his signature grin at you. Everything about him drew you in, made you want to keep looking, to reach out and know him as more than just your father’s employee.

“Kuroo, stop showing off. Just because there’s a pretty girl in the car doesn’t mean that you get to be cocky.” Kenma says in your ear, catching you both off guard.

“Alright alright, take it easy Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece once, then double tapping again to mute. He begins slowing the car down to 80 km/h.

You let out a small giggle, looking over at him. “You think I’m pretty?” You say in a mocking tone, leaning in closer to him.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He says in a serious tone, catching you completely off guard. You begin to slowly back away from him, retreating back into your seat.

“What?” You ask, not sure if you heard him right.

“You’re beautiful. I’ve always thought so. As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for my extremely deep fear of your father, I’d want to take you out on a date.” He says, laughing.

You laugh as well, suddenly a little sad about what he said. “Yeah, that’s too bad. I would’ve said yes.” You say, turning your face to give him a sad smile.

He smirks at you, but his eyes drooped, giving them a sad, tired look. “Would’ve been a great first date.”

After that exchange, you both remained quiet, lost in thought of what could have been. Thinking of the undeniable chemistry that drew the two of you together, but also the forces at play that kept you from colliding. What could have been, if circumstances were different, if the two of you were different. Normal.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask him, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

“Of course.”

“What would you be, if you weren’t racing and working for my dad? Who would you be?” You were genuinely curious, because all you ever knew about Kuroo was that he was dealing before getting pulled into the Sakanoshita business, and that he raced with Nekoma.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He says, a smile growing on his face.

“Try me.”

“Well, I would be a student. Right before I got recruited by your family, I was in college. Chemistry major.” He says, peering over at you.

“Chemistry?!” You ask, surprised by his answer. “You’re a science nerd?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say a nerd.” He says, laughing at your reaction. “In my senior year, I ran out of money. So, I started dealing. It wasn’t anything serious, but I guess I was pretty good at it. I ended up on your dad’s radar, and he took me in as a transporter and dealer. And so, here I am. No degree, but hey, I have a nice car.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, almost out of instinct. It felt like the only right thing to say, even if it wasn’t something that was expected.

“Sorry for what? Your dad giving me a job?”

“You never got to graduate.” After saying this, it seems as though Kuroo realizes it as well, that he never got to finish school. “You were so close, but you got stuck with my family. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your schooling.” You say, meaning every word. You were sorry, and you couldn’t help the guilt you felt. After all, it was your family that pulled him into this world.

Kuroo stays silent for a few more moments, thinking over what you just said. He appears to snap out of it, switching back to his usual easy going, casual self. “Nothing to be sorry for, princess. Without your dad recruiting me, I would just be a broke bum with a lame car and no money to my name. Besides, I can go back and finish things up someday. But for right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.” He looks over at you and winks, making you laugh. “What about you? Where would the yakuza princess be if she wasn’t a mob boss in training?”

You paused, not knowing how to answer. “I actually don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, because there really isn’t a future for me outside of the family business.” You say, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Kuroo frowned, thinking of a response. “Well, hypothetically, what would you be doing? Let’s say, in an alternate universe, where we’re just normal people, living normal, legal lives. What would (y/n) be?”

“A teacher.” You say proudly, without hesitation. “Or a professor. Definitely education.”

“A teacher?!” Kuroo asks, laughing. “How do you go from yakuza boss to teacher?”

You laugh, realizing just how ridiculous it sounds. “What, you said normal! If I had a choice to be normal, I’d want to be a teacher, in a small town. I think I’d be a good teacher!” You say, defending your choice.

“Okay, okay. I guess I can see you as a teacher.” Kuroo says, still grinning from ear to ear. “But, the hot teacher. With a gang tattoo.” He says, referencing the giant koi fish tattoo you have on your shoulder.

“No!” you exclaimed, laughing loudly with him. “I want to be the generic teacher, with cardigans and sensible shoes and house cats to come home to. I’d grade papers and mentor kids, and just be free to be as boring as I want to be.”

“Y’know, maybe I can see it.” Kuroo says, smiling at you. You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach every time he gave you that smile, the kind of smile that made your day so much better by simply existing. “Maybe someday we can be boring together.”

The profound silence that followed that sentence spoke volumes to the both of you, almost as a silent prayer to the universe, begging for a chance to be boring together. However, that silence was broken by Kenma in your ear, bringing you both back to the reality you both began to dread.

“5 minutes out, turn your headlights off.”

“Going dark. Thanks Snake Eyes.” You hear Kita say. Kuroo flicks his lights off, leaving only the street lamps to light the way.

“What container should we be looking for?” Oikawa asks.

Kuroo replies, reading out a series of letters and numbers. “The boss gave me an idea of where to go, I think we’ll have to get out to look around though. Snake Eyes, you got eyes on the port? Any trouble?”

“Nope, all clear. Limited street lamps though, you may need a car for some light.”

“Got it. I’ll let you know when we find the container. Let us know if anything suspicious catches your eye.” Kuroo says, muting himself once again. As you enter the industrial port, Kuroo begins taking a series of turns, leading you deep into the maze of containers. The further you got, the number of street lamps began rapidly decreasing, and you became very familiar with the reason why it’s called shady business.

Kuroo flicked his lights on, and you kept an eye out for the shipping container, or at least one that was close to the number you were looking for.

“I think I got something.” You hear Kita say, flashing his lights behind you, to signal for everyone to stop. Kuroo turns around, putting his car in park and leaving the lights on, pointing at a shipping container with the exact identification numbers you were looking for.

“Nice work Sly Fox.” Kuroo says, patting him on the back. You stood close by the car as the three men approached the container, Kuroo pulling a key out of his pocket and unlocking the giant lock that secured the container.

As he swung open the door to the container, the scent was strong, but familiar. It smelled like…

“Tobacco?” You ask, walking closer to the container.

“Cuban cigars.” Kita says, laughing as he walked further into the container.

“Hey Snake Eyes, let the boss know we’re in the container. 30 bricks right?” Kuroo asks into his ear piece.

“I’ll let him know. And yes, 30 exactly. He left a note in the file that said you may have to look around a bit for the cargo. Also, Sly Fox, don’t take any cigars.” Kenma says, right as Kita was stuffing a handful of cigars into his pocket. Kita reluctantly returns them to the pile they were taken from.

“Got it, 30 pieces of cargo. We’ll make contact again once they’ve been located.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece twice. “Okay, 30 bricks. Let’s start from the back and make our way out, whenever you find one, take it straight out to my car. Princess, you’re the look out.”

“Why do I have to be the look out?” You protest.

“You can’t reach the top of the containers, chica.” Oikawa points out, putting his hand on one of the shipping boxes that towered over you. Kuroo snickered, walking up to you.

“Just stay outside, kitten. Let us know if there’s any big bad guys coming?” Kuroo says, putting his arm around you and walking you outside.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged his arm off. “Whatever, just hurry up, it’s freezing out here.”

You stand outside, staring out to the distant city lights, listening to the quiet waves that lapped against the side of the port. Kuroo came and went, bringing cigar boxes filled with cocaine out to his car.

After the 12th box, he noticed you were crouched down with your arms tucked into your jacket, the arms of your jacket swinging in the breeze. He laughs, walking up to you.

“Cold?” He asks, looking down at you.

“Maybe.” You answered through chattering teeth. You stand up, looking up at him. He towered over you, meaning you had to crane your neck in order to meet his gaze.

“Here.” He says, taking the red bomber jacket off his body and wrapping it around you, using it as an opportunity to pull you closer to him. “Your dad might slice my head off if you catch a cold.” He whispers into your ear, making you laugh.

“How’re we doing guys?” Kenma asks through the ear piece.

“A little under halfway done. Anything we should be worried about?” Kuroo says.

“Nope, still all clear. Just let me know when you’re done and heading out.” Kenma says, muting himself.

“Back to work.” Kuroo says, pulling you in tighter for a moment before letting you go. You stood there, warm under his jacket, wrapped up in the lingering scent of his cologne that remained. You wanted to freeze time, to live in this moment of calm, feeling protected just by the residual presence of Kuroo.

They continued on, carrying cigar boxes out of the container and into Kuroo’s trunk. Every once in a while you’d hear hushed conversations from inside the container, too quiet for you to hear.

“This is the last of it.” Oikawa says, walking out of the container with Kuroo. They each had 4 boxes in their hands, which they placed in the back of Kuroo’s car.

“Ready to go?” Kita says, popping up next to you out of nowhere, causing you to jump.

“Jesus, where did you even come from?” You ask, startled by his sudden appearance.

Kita smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “They don’t call me sly fox for nothing.” He says, walking back to his car. Kuroo was busy closing up the container, securing it and making it appear as if we were never there. Oikawa was leaning over the trunk of Kuroo’s car, arranging the boxes of drugs underneath a spare blanket.

“Snake Eyes, you there?” Kuroo asks, walking back to the car.

“Yup, all ready to go?” Kenma responds.

“Ready when you are.” Kuroo says, walking over to your car door and holding it open for you. You climb in, ready to get out of the cold. Kuroo closes the door, and continues to talk to Kenma through his ear piece. You figured out that Kenma had made it so their communications wouldn’t be heard through your ear piece. You couldn’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but you assumed it’s some info about the drive to the warehouse.

You watch as Kuroo leans in to tell Oikawa something, which he nods in agreeance to before walking back to his car and getting in. Kuroo then walks around to his side of the car, turning it on and beginning to pull out of the dark alleyway of the port.

“Ready to roll, princess?” He asks, turning to flash you a grin.

“The faster the better.” You say jokingly. He laughs, revving his engine loudly.

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, speeding up as the three cars leave the port and enter the expressway.

“DK, stop showing off.” You hear Oikawa say through the ear piece.

Kuroo rolls his eyes, taking his foot off the gas to slow down. “Buzzkill.” He mutters under his breath.

You rode in silence together, heading towards the warehouse your father owns. The warehouse was a front, being used as storage for the goods your father exported in his legal business. For the illegal business, it was used as a storage and distribution center for the underground dealings.

“DK, we have a problem.” Kenma says.

“Talk to me Snake Eyes.”

“We’ve got some cops heading your way. The boss texted saying someone may have tipped them off to tonight’s job. Apparently the king of Tokyo has some enemies.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You mutter to yourself. Your father had more enemies than allies, meaning that there was a constant target on the backs of every member of the family. It’s no surprise that something went wrong tonight.

“Which way are they coming from?” Kuroo asks.

“West. I think they’re gonna intercept you soon. At least 2 cars, and I’m pretty sure they’re looking for you.”

“Shit.” Kuroo whispers to himself. “Cypher, Sly Fox, you there?”

“Heard it all, DK. What’s the next move?” Cypher asks.

“Sly Fox, take the lead. Take the back route, go straight to the warehouse, fast as you can. Cypher, take the rear behind Sly Fox, if you run into any trouble you’re the diversion. Got it?” Kuroo says, his voice taking on a new tone of authority.

“Roger that. When should we check in with you?” Sly Fox asks.

“I’ll make contact when we’re free. Just get in touch with Snake Eyes when the delivery is made.”

“And (y/n)?” Kita asks. Kuroo turned toward you with an expression of deep thought on his face.

“She’ll stay with me. We’ll be fine.” Kuroo says firmly, turning his eyes back to the road. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him. Given the circumstances, you probably shouldn’t, but some part of you just impulsively put all your faith in him, trusting that being in his car was the best place for you to be.

You hear Oikawa chuckle. “Have fun princesa. I hope DK doesn’t scare you away.”

“Shut your mouth, amigo.” Kuroo says mockingly. “I’ll see you both later. Be safe.” He says, muting himself.

You look behind you to see Kita’s car already in front of Oikawa’s, and you see them both exit off of the expressway, their engines revving as they sped off, out of sight.

“Maybe I’m pointing out the obvious, but aren’t you the one with the delivery to make?” You say, growing worried by Kuroo’s plan.

“Don’t worry about it princess. Just trust me.” Kuroo says, revving his engine loudly, rapidly increasing speed.

“You have 20 bricks of cocaine in your trunk and you’re telling me not to worry?!” You exclaim, turning your body to face him.

“Or do I?” He asks, glancing over and smirking at you. This question caught you off guard, making you wonder if this guy was crazy or stupid, or both.

“On your left!” You hear Kenma say, moments before two police cars appeared behind you two, struggling to keep up with Kuroo’s speed.

You slumped back in your seat, trying to find it in yourself to trust Kuroo. The police sirens grew louder and the red and blue flashing lights started to draw closer, but somehow, Kuroo remained calm, not even bothering to increase speed.

Your heart raced as the police cars began getting closer and closer, nearly pulling up right beside you.

“Hey princess, ever wondered what DK stood for?” Kuroo asks calmly.

“Fucking Donkey Kong?!” You yell at him, having no patience for his games.

He laughed at your stressed demeanor, throwing his head back and shaking his head. “Nope. Not even close.” He switches gears, causing the car to slow down quickly and making the cops draw far ahead of you. He veers off to the side, seemingly to take the ramp that curved to exit the freeway. Suddenly, he speeds up yet again, turning his wheel suddenly as the car begins drifting on it’s side.

“Drift King.” He says with a smirk. The car drifted down the ramp, screeching as Kuroo pulled the emergency brake up and maneuvered the steering wheel to keep it steady. You were familiar with drifting, due to the fact your brother was involved in street racing before his death. You knew that it was something that only experienced drivers could do, and it took a certain level of skill and a lot of practice to perfect. You realized that this meant Kuroo was a skilled driver, far more skilled than you realized. No wonder they called him Drift King.

By the time the two of you reached the end of the ramp and began racing down the industrial district street, the cops just began heading down the ramp, trying their hardest to keep up.

The chase continued on for several blocks, Kuroo barely breaking a sweat. It seemed as though this wasn’t his first chase. After some time, Kenma’s voice comes through on the ear piece.

“Hey DK, you may want to end this chase. They’re calling for backup soon.”

“Got it, I’ll pull over now. Thanks Snake Eyes.” Kuroo replies, beginning to slow down.

“Pull over?!” You ask him.

“Just trust me! You think I’d put you in danger?” He asks you, grinning. The car comes to a stop, and the two police cars quickly pull over as well.

“Give me your ear piece.” Kuroo says quickly, the two police officers quickly approaching the car. You quickly hand it to him, which he shoves in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Sir, please exit the car. You as well, ma’am.” The officer says, shining his light in Kuroo’s car. The two of you exit the car, standing in front of the headlights.

“Now, what in god’s name were you doing?” He asks, as the other officer begins searching the car.

“He was just being a show off.” You say, lying on the spot. Kuroo looks surprised by your sudden statement, but plays it off, acting natural.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Just trying to impress a pretty girl.” He says, putting his arm around you and kissing the side of your forehead. Although it was just an act, your stomach still did somersaults just with that one simple action.

“I see.” The officer says, shining the light at your gun. “You have a license to carry that ma’am?”

“Yes sir. Just a personal protection piece.” You say, pulling your driver’s license as well as gun registration out. You hand it to the officer, who looks it over.

“Sakanoshita?” He asks with fake surprise, looking up at you.

“Yes, my father. I’m sure you know him.” You say, knowing that the name Sakanoshita held a lot of clout in the city.

“We're familiar with him.” He says shortly, handing the papers back to you. “Anything?” He asks, turning towards the other officer who was peering into the car.

“Nothing. Mind popping the trunk?” He asks Kuroo. Your heart begins to race, knowing what they would find. Kuroo however, remained cool as a cucumber, sauntering over to the car to open the trunk. He walks back to you with a grin, standing behind you and draping his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body. You grab his hands, bracing yourself for the big reveal.

“Now what do we have here?” The officer says, ripping the blanket off of the boxes. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. The officers pause, opening one of the boxes.

“Cigars?” They ask. You open your eyes, looking up at Kuroo as he continues to grin at you.

“Yes sir, we were on our way back to her place, to deliver them to her dad. You know, the infamous Mr. Sakanoshita.” Kuroo lies with ease.

“They’re gifts, for some associates of his.” You say, joining in on the lie. “He’s hosting a little get together tomorrow. I believe your boss, the police chief, will be there. It’d be a shame if he heard you pulled over a Sakanoshita.” You knew exactly what you were doing, using your name for your own benefit.

“I see.” He says, closing the box of cigars and putting it back down. “Just some Cuban cigars I suppose.” He closes the trunk, walking to where you and Kuroo stood.

“And I suppose the speeding was because the old man is waiting on these cigars, huh?” The other officer says, standing next to his partner.

“Exactly.” Kuroo says. “Not exactly the best idea to get on the bad side of your girlfriend’s father, right?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Surprisingly, the cops laugh. “You got your work cut out for you kid. Sakanoshita is not an easy man to win over.”

“Yeah, his daughter isn’t any easier.” Kuroo says, pulling you closer. You laugh along, wishing for this interaction to end already.

“I’ll tell you what.” The officer says, taking a few steps closer to the two of you. The headlights from the car streaked behind him, casting a dark shadow over you and Kuroo. “You two can go ahead home, just make sure not to mention this to your dad. Or our boss. Sound good?”

“Perfect. Have a good night you two.” You say, hurriedly pulling Kuroo back to the car.

“Sorry for the trouble!” Kuroo calls out as the two men walk back to their patrol cars.

Once the two of you are back in the car, you breathe deeply, staring into space.

“You alright princess?” Kuroo asks, turning towards you.

You snap out of it, punching him in the arm. He jumps back in pain, looking shocked at your outburst.

“Cigars?!” You question him, unable to form a full sentence. He laughs, throwing his head back.

“Yes, cigars. I told you I didn’t have any drugs back there, didn’t I?” he says, grinning slyly at you.

“Then who the hell has the coke?” You ask sternly, adrenaline still pumping from that run in with the cops.

“Think about it.” Kuroo says, turning his whole body to face you. “Where do you think the drugs are?”

You thought about it, the entire night, all the interactions that occurred. Only one person stood out to you, which was-

“Sly Fox.” You say, realizing the stunt that they had just pulled off. “Kita. I never would have seen him take anything to his car, he’s too sneaky. I had my back turned to his car because it was up against a container, no one could have come from over there. That’s why you had him go straight to the warehouse. It’s all in Kita’s car.”

“Well look who figured it out. Good job princess.” Kuroo says, leaning back in his seat.

“But why take the cigars? And why not tell me the plan?” You question him, not satisfied with the answer you had come up with.

“In case of a situation exactly like this. Insurance, in case everything went wrong. An alibi.” He says peering over at you. “And, well, I wanted to test you. See if you could take the heat.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to see how you’d handle yourself, with your back to the wall. I wanted to see if you trust me.” He says, with a small smile on his face.

“Didn’t really give me much of a choice but whatever.” You grumble quietly.

Kuroo laughs, looking over at you. “You did great, princess. You’ll be a mob boss in no time. I hope you’ll let me keep my job, though.”

You let out a tired scoff, exhausted by the adrenaline rush that had come and gone. “Just- please keep me in the loop about things like this. If you can do that then maybe you can keep working for me.”

“DK, everything good?” You hear Kenma say through the ear pieces that were still in Kuroo’s pocket. He dug them out, handing you one which you placed in your ear.

“Yup, crisis averted. Have you heard from Sly Fox and Cypher?” Kuroo asks.

“We’re right here boss. Delivery has been made, just waiting on your order.” You hear Kita say.

“Meet us back at the boss’s house, me and the princess have one last loose end to tie up and then we’ll head over.” Kuroo says, starting the car.

Kuroo heads back in the direction of the ports, and you assume it’s so that the 20 cigars could be returned to the container. Once again, the two of you ride in comfortable silence, your mind wandering as you gazed at the distant city lights.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Kuroo asks, bringing you back to reality.

“My brother.” You answer without hesitation. “If things were different, it’d probably be him doing this job with you. Maybe not in the passenger seat, but still. The family legacy would be his.” You felt a pit grow in your stomach, your eyes suddenly tearing up. You always had these lingering feelings of doubt, but you never realized it was because of Keishin, having to be in his shadow. No one ever bet on you, or thought you were going to be the one inheriting the empire. Regardless, you were there, because your brother wasn’t.

“Well, no offense to the great Black Lung but I for one am glad you’re here. No one else I’d rather have in my passenger seat.” He says, giving you a sincere smile, one that you haven’t seen before. It was different from his flirtatious smirk, or his arrogant grin. It was just a simple, kind smile.

Black Lung?” You questioned.

“Your brother’s racing name. Y’know, like DK, Cypher, Sly Fox. He used to smoke like 6 packs a day, even more than Kita. He was kind of a big deal in the racing scene. After he passed, Karasuno didn’t race for a long time because there was no one that could replace him. They’re slowly getting back on the road, but your brother is definitely still a driver people remember.” Kuroo explains, pulling into the port once again.

“He smoked?” You asked, trying to remember a time you saw him with a cigarette. You assumed it was because he only smoked when he was away from the house, because it was something that your father would have never approved of. You were pretty sure Keishin would’ve been disowned if he smoked or drank in front of your father.

“Yeah, all the time. That was his whole thing. Did he not smoke around you?” Kuroo asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I guess he never smoked around our family. I don’t think my dad knew either if he only smoked when he raced.” You pause for a moment. “Do you know anything about it? The accident?” You ask, growing more and more curious about what Kuroo knew. Your brother’s death was always explained to you by members of your family, and you wondered if there was something that they didn’t know that the racers did.

Kuroo paused, an expression of deep thought in his face. He looked as though he was trying to figure out the exact sentences he would say next. “All I’ve heard is that…there was an explosion. I think his girlfriend was near it at the time, and she got injured. That’s all I know though, no one really talks about it much because of how bad it hurt everyone. A lot of people cared about him.”

“He had a girlfriend?” You ask, turning towards Kuroo as he puts the car in park.

He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, some chick named Saeko. I think she has a younger brother that races nowadays. I’m pretty sure she’s still a mechanic for the team.” Kuroo pauses, looking out towards the port. “Look, I don’t know too much about the accident. And I assume your dad doesn’t want you looking into it too hard. But if you do want to know more, just let me know. I’ll talk to some guys from Karasuno. Sounds good?” He asks you.

You nod in agreeance, knowing that there had to be a reason why Keishin was so secretive, and why your father is still keeping secrets about his death to this day. “Okay. If you end up talking to Saeko, could I come along? I just...I feel like I’m getting to know my brother all over again. I want to know the side of him that he hid from our family.”

“Of course. Now c’mon, let's get these cigars back where they came from.” Kuroo says, getting out of the car and popping the trunk. You follow him, getting out and standing next to him.

The two of you silently put the cigars back, working quickly to get the job completely finished. By the time Kuroo was closing the container door, Oikawa came through in the ear piece.

“Hey love birds, are you heading back to the house soon?” he asks. Kuroo rolls his eyes and unmutes himself.

“We’re heading back now from the port. Snake Eyes, you told the boss the delivery was made already, right?”

“Yup, I let him know. He’s waiting for you guys at the house.” Kenma replies.

“Sounds good, we’ll be there soon. Cypher, Sly Fox, go ahead and start heading over now.”

“Will do. See you soon DK.” Sly Fox says.

“C’mon princess, let’s go home.” Kuroo says, throwing his arm over you as the two of you walk back to the car. You take the hand he had on your shoulder into your own, squeezing tightly. It was strange how natural it felt, being with Kuroo. It was almost as if it was where you belonged, with him, wrapped up in his arms.

You climb back into the car, watching Kuroo as he starts the car and begins driving off once again. Your head was spinning trying to make sense of everything that had occurred that night, as well as processing all the new information Kuroo had told you about your brother. You knew this day had to come, when you would have to jump in head first into the world your family operated within, when you would have to fully take on the Sakanoshita name and all the responsibilities that come with it.

As Kuroo rolls up to the driveway of your home, you see Oikawa and Kita standing outside with your father, smoke billowing from where the three of them were conversing.

“Tetsurou! (y/n)! I was beginning to wonder when you’d be back!” Your father says, cutting another cigar and handing it to Kuroo, motioning for him to join the group.

“Cubans? What’s the occasion?” You ask your father, standing next to Kuroo.

“Your first job, sweetheart. And with no casualties, no arrests, a clean job deserves a little reward.” Your father says, grinning at you, holding out a cigar for you to take.

“Dad, I don’t smoke.” You say, laughing.

“Oh c’mon, the most powerful man in Tokyo offers you a cigar, you take the cigar.” Oikawa says, smirking and letting out another cloud of smoke.

You roll your eyes, taking the cigar and allowing your father to light it. You thought more about the cigar as you drew the smoke in, about what it meant for you to be invited to smoke with your father. It meant that you were finally owning your family name, you were finally a true Sakanoshita.

You stood there silently, listening as Kuroo explained to your father the decision he made to use Kita as the real transport and to make himself the emergency decoy. Your father listened as well, nodding along with an expression of deep thought on his face.

“Great thinking Tetsurou. That is exactly why I keep you on my payroll.” Your father laughs, smacking his hand against Kuroo’s back. Kuroo laughs as well, putting on his usual submissive attitude that he uses with your father to gain his good graces.

“Let’s just hope your daughter keeps me on when she takes over.” Kuroo jokes, nudging you with his elbow.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve earned your place with the whole family.” Your father says, smiling at you. “Say, isn’t that Tetsurou’s jacket?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, realizing you still had it on. “It got cold at the ports.”

“It’s funny. You’re starting to look more and more like him.” Your father says, eyes squinting as he smiles sadly.

“Like who? DK?” Kita asks with a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

“Keishin. The racing jacket, the gun. Even the smoking.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, remembering the conversation you had with Kuroo about your brother. Your suspicions about your father kept growing, and it became harder and harder to believe his mourning father act, the smoke and mirrors he used to deceive everyone.

“Well, you know how much I adored him.” You say, taking another puff from your cigar. You and your father both pause, staring one another down. There was noticeable tension, but with no clear reason. Nothing more than a gut feeling.

The staredown was cut off by Kuroo clearing his throat, getting both yours and your father’s attention. “It’s getting pretty late, we don’t want to keep the two of you from a good night’s rest.” He says, finding a way for the three racers to leave.

“Yes, it is getting rather late. Oh! Better not forget these. Tetsurou, I put your friend’s pay for tonight with yours.” Your father says, moving away from the staircase leading up to the front door to reveal three paper bags with names on them, which you assume was full of money.

“Thank you sir. I’ll make sure to get it to Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, bowing to your father. Kita and Oikawa follow suit, bowing before grabbing their bags.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Kita says, walking back to his car.

“See you next time boss. You too, princesa.” Oikawa says, waving to the both of you before getting into his car.

“So, you’ll let me know when there’s another job?” Kuroo asks as Oikawa and Kita begin pulling out of the driveway.

“Absolutely.” He nods, turning to face both of you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get inside before your mother comes out here and drags me back in. Have a good night, Tetsurou.” He says, going back inside. It was once again just you and Kuroo.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You say, beginning to take off Kuroo’s red bomber jacket.

“Keep it.” He says, taking a step closer to you. He places the jacket back onto your shoulders. “I’ll be back for it eventually.”

The two of you pause, staring into each other’s eyes. It felt like a moment that you could live in forever, relishing the comfort that Kuroo gave you.

“Thanks for having my back tonight. You sure know how to think on your feet.” Kuroo says.

“Not like I had much of a choice.” You say, remembering the moment earlier in the night. A part of you wished it wasn’t a lie, that you and Kuroo were just two lovers out for a drive. Nothing illegal, nothing scary, just a guy with a car and the girl in the passenger seat.

“Come here, princess.” Kuroo says, pulling you into a tight hug. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden act of affection. You wrap your arms around him, feeling perfectly at home in his arms, being squeezed tightly against his body.

“Please be careful. I don’t trust your father.” Kuroo whispers into your ear. You realize the real reason why he hugged you, so that he could tell you this message in secret. “I’ll talk to some people from Karasuno Killers and see if you can meet Keishin’s girl. He’s hiding something, (y/n).”

“How do you know? What are you talking about?” You ask, holding him tighter.

“(y/n), how would your father know that Keishin smoked? If he lied about that, then we don’t know what else he’s hiding.” Kuroo responds. Your breath catches in your throat, remembering what your father had said, about your sudden resemblance to Keishin.

Racing jacket, gun, smoke.

#haikyuu #kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #deciphered #hq #fanfic #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

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The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family.

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced. You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder.

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers.

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

#The Long Con #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike fic

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

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I recently read Shades of blue after you rwcommended it and Oh My God was it worth it. That was beautiful and amazing and do you have any other recommendations?

✨MISSIONS ACCOMPLISHED✨

AAAAAA I’m so glad you read it!!! Honestly I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me for recs for awhile because I have.........a few...

Miscellaneous ships here, not just Revalink but the first lot are

- Pinesong by @a-perplexing-puzzle D-Do I even need to explain myself more??? I talk about this fic every other day of the week..... it’s just great vibes....soft and fluffy and angsty just *chef’s kiss* two gay boys searching through their old memories to remember how gay they are

- Shades of Blue by @unapologetically-asexual OK I know original anon just said they read this but for you idiots that haven’t read it yet....uhhhh get on that. Nothing I could say would really advertise this fic better than this post

- somebody’s always looking (nothing’s quite as sweet) by @kouzaires One of my FAV Coffee shop AU’s for botw....so sof......so tender...........so warrmmmmm.............they characters are written so well.....just love it...a lot

- Broken Spirits by @legendoftoad It’s just AAAAAAAAAA??!!? My boys are hurting and the malice for half of it is frickin doing things to my boy and then of course you got your PTSD themes meddled in there and hnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhghgh my hurt/comfort itch is sufficiently scratched go read

- Linger On by ICanFlyHigher [idk if they have a tumblr] Ok I actually haven’t finished this fic yet but it’s been recommended time and time again so I’ve been reading this in my spare time I’m on like Chapter 12 or 13 I think but I can say with CERTAINTY that the writing is fantastic and tender moments are off the charts and my boys are so precious and also the Yiga are actually cool in this so that’s nice

- Learning Flight by homewardbound This is just *chefs kiss* *standing ovation* *throws confetti in the air* quality quality Revalink. Just a delicious chocolate cake of botw and Revalink. You got your mysterious Revali waking up 105 years later batter, and your angsty PTSD gay boys duo chocolate chips, and then you can chuck in some engaging sideplot elements as a few tall tiers, and then the cake is all whipped up with the wooden spoon of subtextual writing just mmmm delicious. and ALSO I betaed a thing that is gonna happen and let me tell you shit is gonna happen like VERY IMPORTANT SUPER COOL plot twists be happening so you better read it

- Conversations After The End Of The World by @bismuthllie Ok this one’s a oneshot but I always go back and read it because...idk it just strums my heart strings a lot...I’ve said Pinesong was my first big Revalink fic I’ce read, but this was like...my first, first piece of Revalink content I read ever so...yeah <3 ....and also the art for this comic is fantastic too even thought it gives me the emotions......hahaha ok Revali it’s time to stop being dead

- I See You Swimming In The Sky by @unavoidablekoishi OK OK I know my logic isn’t the best considering it’s the only Revali/Mipha fic I’ve read, but god dammit it’s the best Revpha fic I’ve ever read I still need to catch up cause I’m like 3 chapters behind but this fic CONVERTED me ok, miphvali went from a “huh yeah the art is nice I can kinda see it” to “THAT FISH IS SIMPING FOR THE BIRD 24/7 AND THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER″ This is some *claps* GOOD. SHIT. Ok? *slaps roof of fic* This bad boy can fit so much charming characterization and interaction (and also has made me scream both happily and not happily on several occasions)

- Guardian of The Wilds by @no-themes-just-memes in which I constantly miscall it “Guardian of the Wild” because I’m stupid This isn’t so much a ship fic but it’s so cool Link is a spirit, Urbosa and Zelda’s mom are a thing, Zelda is HERE and she is AMAZING like no spoilers but holy shit Zelda is here and slaying in more ways than one and riding Satori and hhnnnnhhhhhhhh it’s all about those ~plot twists~ and tone changes ya know? very very very nice...

- Firebird by @paellaplease Oh no, it’s Kip’s obligatory Firebird gush whoopsie poopsie who would have guessed surely not me. This is just my standard for Oc ship content now it’s so good I am gay for one fire girl Maiya is my spirit animal and I just wanna cup her in my hands softly even though I know she would probably burn me for it but it would totally be worth it. The writing is just superb and I am also gay for great imagery and action which this is chalk full of so go read it

Ok it’s actually 2am right now and I still need to finish a bunch of AP work so I’m just gonna speed run the rest of these recs

@echogekkos writes such cute and soft Miphlink fics that are on my top tier list like this one and oh crap this post made me realize Healing Touch updated crap there are so many things I need to read and catch up on anyways want more miphlink angst? BOOM read the inspiration for eternity by Merakkli and oh what’s that? You want deep lore that was custom made with lots of hot ocs in a fic that spans way beyond BOTW welp here’s Hyrule Bound a universe entirely created by @themisadventurescrew which is yet another fic series that I am behind on crap but oh shit @kittmoon has started a chapter fic called Jaded Seas recently so you should go read that but also all of their oneshots are great as well so you should follow them and did I mention that everyone I’ve tagged are people you should follow because yeah anyhow here’s a crackfic about Goron children that had me shaking out of either fear or confusion for a few days by @angsttronaut ok moving on @thatsnotzelda writes beautifully just take a look at this angsty Revalink thing and also bambambambam you’ve been ambushed by @hatenostorms @going-fancognito @ashrel @lizards-writing-blog so now go request some from them because I said so they’re great also uhhh @idiotic-canadian and @moonchildrenn [Pins_and_Patches on ao3] hate happiness but that’s ok because I get to be emotionally wrecked by their angst and whump hurray! wait fUCK I completely forgot to rec this earlier but my first Zelpha fic was this gorgeous Coffeeshop AU by @theseventhsage called Dreaming of Coffee and Love so go read that *flipping through entire history of ao3* let’s see let’s see... All of the Rito Chronicles by sturms_sun_shattered is great, and this Teba/Harth one is also a fav and oh CRAP my zelink content is just everything by @fatefulfaerie because it’s just *throws colorful streamers in the air* pretty and I love their writing welp I’m about to collapse lets just end it off with the z’s like @zzariyo and @zeawesomebirdie on ao3 they are some pretty radical french fries if i do say so myself and and ok ok read this other Zelpha coffee au which is also by @kouzaires and this Modern au also by @unavoidablekoishi ok that’s all I can remember right now bye

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everlarkficquestions · 3 years

Text

Sunday Stumped Day 35

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.

In this round, we are focusing on asks for specific stories. If your ask for a more general “type of” story is not included, it does not mean we are ignoring it, it just means we need more time to research and answer these asks.

If you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/ ask/ with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26, Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , Post 30, Post 31, Post 32, Post 33 and Post 34 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

576. Anonymous said to everlarkficquestions: Hi, I am searching everlarkfic that I read couple years ago in ff.net. Post mockingjay, Katniss and Peeta are getting married then when they’ll rebuild Peeta's family bakery, peeta got collapse and they find out that he was dying. In the end peeta died. Annie and Katniss's mother had to move Katniss to district 4 to taking care of her. In district 4, Katniss met with gale and they were slowly building relationships from there?

577. its-hopeless-romantic said to everlarkficquestions: Hey,I am looking for fic in which Peeta is Katniss's college professor (he is 10 years older than her) and they fall in love. He is teaching history of art and I remember he invited her to the opening of his galery. I remembre that he goes to Italy to teach for a few months and before that he introduces her to his family. I think it has 2 long chapters in second one there is his proposal. (It's called Lessons in Love or something like, but I can't find it)thanks 💕💕💕

578. alwayseverlark said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! Looking for a in Panem fic (I think no games) , where Peeta is working in the mines and an accident happens and Katniss is looking for him thinking he’s dead , but Gale thinks she wa s looking for him instead and when he realizes , he’s mad at Katniss.I am not sure if this is one fic... or if I’m mixing two different fics...Thansk!

579. stonyspideypool said to everlarkficquestions:I'm looking for a fanfic were I think katniss wants peeta to take control/be more dominant so she calls johanna and johanna tells her that peeta would never force himself on her and he has dealt with so much blue balls over the years that he's used to it or something (lmao) sorry that's all I remember 😅😅Love the page btw💙❤ literally its the only reason I'm on tumblr, thank you💕

580. amesielee said to everlarkficquestions:Hi I'm looking for a fanfic. It's either a one shot 2 shot or 3 shot and it's about Peeta and Katniss having sex. It's their first time and once it's over Peeta grabs a wash cloth for Katniss to help her out. She then gets mad and assumes he has done it before with Delly. I think Peeta didn't know it was her first time. And Peeta says maybe we are just good together. He then asks if she loves him. It's on Tumblr. I hope you can help xx

581. booksandeverlark said to everlarkficquestions:Hi there! Another story I remember reading but can’t think of the title. I know Leeta is older then Katniss. Peeta knew Katniss’ Parents and is their age. Katniss likes Peeta and Peeta keeps telling her he’s too old for her but she doesn’t care. They start to date and Katniss dad finds out before they can tell and eggs mad. I think Peeta also gets hurt protecting Katniss and how she reacts makes her dad see they are serious. Thanks so much for the help

582. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions:Trying to find a fic...modern au where katniss is with her friends (Annie Johanna Finnick Gale madge....) at a party and they find her the next morning in bed with Peeta?

(582) This could be I Dare You (To Stay) by Thewritershae - thank you @allie-rose

583. justanotherrandomaccount9999 said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! Do you know of a fic where it the story is about each time peeta ruins a cake? I read it before but forgot the title. The last time was when he made Katniss a cake for her birthday but dropped it when she said she was pregnant. Thanks for everything you've done for this fandom btw :)

584. pleasantturtletheorist-blog said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! So this might be a tricky one (bc I don’t remember much of the plot lol) but basically in this fic Peeta was like “don’t deny me post-sex cuddles” or something along those lines hahah. And I remember the scene being really cute but I can’t remember much else about it. I know this is very vague but if you could help I’d really appreciate it!! 🥺🥺

(584) This is possibly Blowout by Annieoakley1. - Thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams

585. yeeyeejones73 said to everlarkficquestions:Hello:) I was wondering if y’all know the name of a fic where it’s canon post mockingjay and everlark is growing back together slowly. I remember peeta gets a boner while Katniss and him are sleeping. I also think Peeta accidentally sees Katniss in only her towel after a shower and it’s super cute and awkward. I hope y’all can help and also thanks for all y’all do!

586. superpineappleenthusiast said to everlarkficquestions:Hey, I'm looking for a fic where the tributes of 74th games escape the arena. Thanks!

587. anonymous-loner95 said to everlarkficquestions:What the fic where Peeta thinks he's about to sleep with some random girl, which I think is actually is Jo, but is tricked into a room with Katniss?

588. thatgirl56834 said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! First of all, I love this blog! You guys rock! I’ve been looking for a one shot I used to read all the time. It was where Katniss and Peeta were friends in middle school and kissed after their dance but then Katniss moved away. Years later they ended up being neighbors and getting together. Peeta lied about who he was at first but then Katniss figured it out. If you know what this fic is, I’d love to read it again! 💗

588 FOUND! Wishes Old and New by Peetasbunmyoven. Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams and @allie-rose

589. neonsnail said to everlarkficquestions:Hey I'm looking for a fic where peeta meets katniss and she has some kind of vision that if she gets pregnant prim dies and tries to stay away from peeta but she fails and then she sleeps with peeta to try to get pregnant and fails then disappears and they meet again a few years later and become a couple

589 FOUND! The story ha been identified as The Fool by Myusernamehere but unfortunately it has been deleted by the author. Thank you @katnissdoesnotfollowback

590. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions: what’s the fic where Peeta cheats (post mockingjay) on Katniss and because of this she ends up with someone else?

591. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions: Peeta and Katniss are in highschool and Peeta goes to prom with Madge and Katniss goes with Gale. She wears a burgundy dress and at the pre prom thing she meets an old friend from home named Josh.

592. tributeintraining said to everlarkficquestions:I'm looking for a specific fanfic I read years ago. It's a modern AU where Katniss and Gale are in a band together. Katniss is the guitarist and doesn't sing. Gale is married to Madge but was having an affair with Katniss. The public finds out and she leaves the band. She goes solo and starts a PR relationship with Peeta. Her first solo performance is singing "Shake it out". That's all I remember. Thank!

593. supreme-doritos said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! im looking for a fic where the rebellion happens early and the capitol gets overthrown before the 74th hunger games by a tribute (then victor) from district 7. At one point katniss and peeta (who lost his leg in the bombing) look after haymitch but he ends up killing himself so they don't starve during a really harsh winter. Before he dies he asks katniss to give chaff a naked lady mug/glass (i cant remember the name lol sorry) Thank you! I really appreciate you guys <3

593 FOUND! The Avalanche And Little Pebbles by Dyce - thanks to @eggplant8

594. entwodreiquatrocinq-blog said to everlarkficquestions: So i'm looking for this fanfic I read once on FF.net. Peeta and Katniss are intimate in the catching fire arena, and later in district 13, she finds out that she pregnant. Peeta is either in a coma or captured and one of his brothers survived. I believe there is a fight between Katniss and the brother, and he says something like "just because you f'ed my brother in front of the entire country doesn't mean....." That's all I remember, I hope it's specific enough. :)

(594) Possibly The Sharp Edge of Memory by Titania522 - thanks @eggplant8

595. lettrsto said to everlarkficquestions:hi guys!! i can't remember for shit the name of this one shot, i guess it was written for promptsinpanem, where katniss dates gale, but haymitch hates his guts so k&g make a deal w peeta so katniss fake dates peeta while she's actually dating gale behind haymitch's back. can you guys give some help, pretty please? does it ring any light? thank you!!!!

(595) FOUND by the asker! Yours And Mine by Andthisisthewonder

596. jonerys-everlark said to everlarkficquestions:I remember a fanfic where Katniss and Peeta were in the 74th games when Katniss learns that Peeta is with the Careers, she remembers him telling her something (I think) but I know that she then waits until they are gone, and says to the audience something to the effect of , “I have something to say... he has not betrayed me, he is protecting me, as to his confession in the interview, I’m still trying to decide how I feel about it” or something like that, basically, she knows he is on her side an

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!

#+#mod post #sunday stumped day #ssd 35 #we're stumped #576-596

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ackerslut · 3 years

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Star Trek Lower Decks Fic Recs

(most of these are by the same rotating five writers bc our fandom is That Small. Still, all of these are absolute gems and worth your time. Please DM me if I forgot to put a fic on here of y'alls or if a link doesn't work <3)

you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid by InsideMyBrain

shipwide crises are a lot more enjoyable when you have someone to make fun of. unless you’re the person being made fun of.

Everything Is Fine by UncreativeIndividual

After several months serving together, Tendi begins to realize that she feels for Mariner as more than just a friend. This is not ideal for her.

The Mariner Protocol by bauchle

AKA: Beckett Mariner's Guide to Scoring With Hot Space Babes

When she learns that Rutherford is crushing hard on Tendi, Mariner selflessly takes it upon herself to coach him in the fine arts of court ship. She even drafts Boimler to help her out, though for some reason he's less than enthusiastic about the whole project.

Cue movie nights, flirting "workshops", and 400-year-old mixtapes - not to mention melees, arguments, and maybe a minor shipwide crisis. This is definitely going to end well.

im standing guard (im falling apart) by @lastoneout

“Dude Barb is way out of anyone’s league, trust me. She’s so perfect it’s freaky.” Beckett continues, “I don’t know if you noticed but it did nearly drive me insane.”

Brad falls silent for a moment, giving her a weird look that she wilts under.

“Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

It's Going Great, Why Do You Ask? by UncreativeIndividual

The sequel to Everything Is Fine.

Mariner and Tendi have been dating in secret for a few months. It's going well, though the former does wish to keep the relationship a secret despite the latter's wishes.

Then, Mariner's mom, Carol Freeman, starts to suspect something is up with her daughter. T'Ana gets stuck in the middle as the only one aware of the relationship, and Boimler & Rutherford are just confused as to what's happening. You can probably s ee where this is going.

are you lonely looking for yourself out there? by @lastoneout

He knew listening to her message would only make him feel worse, but he reached over and pushed the play button, waiting for Mariner’s angry voice to fill the room, reminding him of what a jerk he was.

“Boimler?” Instead of angry, her voice was quiet and groggy, like she’d just woken up, and Brad froze, quickly realizing two things. He must have hit the call button on accident, and he was totally, completely fucked.

- or -

After having a shitty day on the hell ship that is the Titan, Boimler gets drunk and accidentally calls Mariner.

i loved you then and i love you now by @punk-rock-yuppie

Seven years after the end of their friendship, Beckett and Brad meet again.

Enjoy, Endure, Survive (a surprise) by @punk-rock-yuppie

Five times Boimler surprises Mariner with something, and one time she beats him to the punch.

Letting the Days Go By by @punk-rock-yuppie

It’s been three years since Bradward Boimler left his three closest friends on the Cerritos to take an ill-fated stint on the Titan.

It’s been two years since he came back from the Titan with his head hung and his metaphorical tail between his legs.

It’s been a year and a half since Mariner cornered him and told him, drunk and hushed, that she missed him so much it felt like a missing limb.

No Time Like The Present by @lastoneout

If there’s one thing Beckett has learned about Brad Boimler in all the years they’ve been friends, it’s that he has an intense—and frankly worrying—flair for the dramatic. So she isn’t exactly shocked when he decides to confess that he loves her in the middle of a fucking red alert, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it.

Love Your Fate (which is in fact your life) by @punk-rock-yuppie

Five out-of-this-world shenanigans that try to get Beckett and Mariner to confront their feelings for each other, and one time these two idiots finally do something about it.

a collapsing star with tunnel vision (but only for you) by @punk-rock-yuppie

The night before Brad transfers to the Titan, he and Beckett have a one night stand.

Of course, everything gets a lot more complicated after that.

Terminal Infatuations by ProdigySorcerer

A collection for my Rutherford/Tendi fics, will have multiple stories, AU, etc.

Future Nostalgia by sprucetree

Various oneshots about Mariner and Boimler.

Chapter 1: Fletcher spills a secret about Boimler. Chapter 2: A Titan mission gone wrong leaves Mariner worried. Chapter 3: Mariner and Boimler prepare for their wedding with all of their friends and family in attendance. What could go wrong?

Who Says You Can't Go Home? by @punk-rock-yuppie

Brad knows how his reunion with Mariner will go: not well.

Spoiler alert: Brad is wrong.

Delicate by sprucetree

Various oneshots about Tendi and Rutherford.

Chapter 1: Tendi and Rutherford both work well as friends, sure. But are either of them ready to make the jump to being a couple? Chapter 2: After the accident, Rutherford wakes up.

Maybe, Perhaps, Almost by @punk-rock-yuppie

It's a tragedy, the way our story goes: maybe, perhaps, almost.

Mindless in a Worthwhile Way by @punk-rock-yuppie

Beckett and Brad's first date on Earth goes a little awry.

____

I'm also here to shamelessly promo my own fics.

#star trek lower decks #stld rec list #star trek lower decks fanfiction #star trek lower decks fanfic #stld fanfiction #stld fanfic #marinler #tendiford #tendiler #beckett mariner #brad boimler #d'vana tendi #sam rutherford

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strangerays · 3 years

Text

Nothing in Particular Update #3

About seven months and I finished the first draft at 93k!

I always imagined how it would feel to finish a first draft (I’ve been writing novels “seriously” since about 2017) and now that I’ve finally done it, I can say it’s a better feeling than I imagined! Telling my friends and family (and even my doctor, who was really quite excited about it) was an amazing amazing thing. I’m generally pretty nervous to tell people about my work, but I had a really positive reaction. Honestly all of it has me on a creative high (not sure I’m coming down from that any time soon lol).

I’m going back for my last year of school in two days, which means I’m not going to have as much time as I did to write all summer. This is okay, because I’m actually going to take an entire month off of writing! I’m really burnt out - don’t want to start editing a story that’s so near to me if I don’t feel ready. I’ll talk more about editing when the time comes!

In a lot of ways, I found that my life mimicked my art. I think for a lot of people, it tends to be the other way around, but this story did a lot to heal me.

Going to hop right into excerpts now! I’m not going to explain much this far into the story because I would like to try to publish this story (FAR in the future) so I apologize for that! Also, I stopped naming most of the chapters until I go back and edit because there are just SO MANY and I didn’t have the time to stop and think of cool names. Anyways... enjoy!!

(Here is the link to the original masterpost!)

text: Rays of gold curled to the ground, primordial and shy as the fire reeds on the cusps of shallow pool around the bay outside of Mothouse combed them to fine sparkles. I remembered the way Lonan kneeled on the edges of this pool. He never dove in – just blinked slowly as he watched crabs and minnows chase each other in a swirl of sand. I could not resist the water. I’d made it a part of me. My hair was longer then; down to my elbows, fading from dark red to orange and white, soaked always. Lonan let me borrow his shirts when I forgot to bring my own. They hung from my waist, too big for me, and I was warm even as the breeze rocked us inside.

text: The sky was never blue in Point Blink. At least, I couldn’t remember the last time the clouds hadn’t given way to a dark gray mist. Jude was here. I was out of place. I was floating – watching slender, underfed pines wave in the breeze behind houses on the water before they disappeared underneath furls of cloud. Bursts of warm light shone in windows on the bay, like hungry eyes watching for a storm. A group of kids our age chaffed on a rocky expanse, their heads popping over pockets of darkness when they laughed. Froths of cloud stretched across the sky, moving the ground with it. Long stretches of trees and islands far on the other side of our small pocket of ocean looked more like large freight ships. Lights glittered and beamed on the roads and highways that belonged to the city. Pink was starting to show over the horizon. Lonan was on the other side. Somewhere.

text:

Jude sucked her lips in and flopped onto her stomach so she could see the blue below her feet. Her dark curls draped over her ears and hid her nose.

“I can’t see the bottom of the ocean.” She cupped her fingers with the other hand. “See where the water fades to white and back again? The endless tide. Why do people say the ocean is blue?”

I leaned forward. She was right. Blue ocean climbed up the side of the cliffs and turned the rocks a dark gray; ate the erosion as if from a plate. I’d never had the ocean explained to me that way before.

“I think I like it that way,” I said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was at the bottom of Point Blink.

text:

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. This is just guesswork. Patchwork.”

I wanted to apologize again, but I had a strong guess that it might make her annoyed with me. “It’s kind of like… I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”

She wrinkled her nose and eyebrows, scrunched up her little face. “That’s dumb.”

“I think it’s a smart way to live.” Sometimes it felt like worry was the only thing that kept me alive. It wasn’t dumb at all.

“You’re going to be fine though. We’re going to be fine. If something bad happens, we’ll deal with it. Don’t let it eat you.”

There was wisdom in what this seventeen-year-old girl on my bed had offered me. I caught it like a gold coin. Before I could reply with anything, she launched into another question. I didn’t want to think much about change anyways.

text:

“Oh. Wow. That’s like, next year.” I sort of laughed.

“A year can be a long time,” Lonan said with a wince. “What do you think?”

I sighed through my nose and leaned back with him. The sun was going down. Sometimes, my life felt less like a golden hourglass and more like a stopwatch with a broken face.

“For once, I think I agree with your mom.”

Lonan just stared at me, with something like awe.

“I think you should do what you want,” I said.

“Ray,” Lonan started.

“No,” I interrupted him. “It’s not about me. She’s stopped you from doing anything and everything you’ve wanted to for the last four years, so when you go to college, you’ve got to separate yourself from this place.” I pointed to him. “You’re allowed to do this.”

text:

Maybe I was just being strange. Lonan was my best friend. It didn’t help that there was a little bit of him in everything – the tide pools, the echo of shells, my broken camera.

Soon, we stood in the center of the field. A breeze whispered through the cattails, fanning against our knees. Ellis loped behind me as I stepped in and out of tire tracks under the cloudless sun. She wasn’t much different than Jude. Her footsteps crunched excitedly behind mine, excited at the prospect of an unprecedented adventure. I’d missed those.

Lonan said he didn’t like to walk in fields because the wind tricked him into thinking that someone was behind him. Every brisk of his heel was a trick of the mind. Sometimes I felt the same way, like I might be haunted.

text:

The ageless water begged me closer, frizzed my hair and swathed my arms in a sweet, familiar scent. I remembered galloping down to the shore with a childhood friend in one May. Soft piano accompanied croaky lyrics from someone’s radio when we fell chest-first into the water. Static erupted in my head. There had been nothing new for me in Point Blink for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to float. Grass turned into pebbles, and I heard Ellis’ footsteps soften to the beat of the sand. Our eyes crumbled the shells that walled the long expanse of dark sand where waves rolled in. We leaned over like two swans, crunching shells beneath our feet, displaying shells to one another, naming the ones we recognized, and when I looked out at the horizon, I saw blue.

Red plastic cups, cigarettes, and even some broken glass stuck out through the sand as we made our way further down the shoreline, as if someone had thrown a party. My brow furrowed. Maybe this part of the beach wasn’t so abandoned after all.

Between the spit of the waves and dry sand lay some sort of book. Sand trickled out of the pages and onto my shoes when I swept it out of line of an oncoming wave. Ellis was beside me in moments. Shells tolled under her shoes.

*Warning for mention of blood (fake blood and fake knife!!) this takes place on Halloween haha*

text:

Jude held the container in her palm, kneeled down so we were shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes fixed on the knife in my neck, mine on her hands, then her focused expression. Her fingers tipped my chin up, cold on my skin. I tried not to move. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about Dad, or Raven, or Lonan. I only let Jude in – this girl who had come out of nowhere and wrecked me, saved me. And she didn’t know any of that. I didn’t owe anything to her, but I needed her. She kept us afloat when I couldn’t even keep myself above water. Her fingers painted blood over the center of my throat, our breath quiet on each other’s cheeks. She held my shoulder as she set back.

“Absolutely feral,” she said.

text:

“Point Blink is all I have. It’s where I am, what I am.” My throat was tight. “It’s all I’ve known. I am happy with my life. And I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw all of that away so we can dig up answers. I want to stay.”

Jude sat there for a moment. I think Florian and Ellis had turned to look at us, because when we went silent, I could no longer heat their hushed whispers, only the sound of water as it rose and rose and rose. I wondered if it would rain.

Jude sat up on her hands, then her knees, then she stood over me.

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Blood streaked down her cheeks. I’d been so focused on not crying, I had missed when she started to.

“Point Blink is just the same as anywhere,” she said. The words sat somewhere above her inside her chest, weak and frail, as though they’d been realized a long time ago.

I’d stared into her eyes until they disappeared. She grabbed onto a branch above her and quietly swung herself around a corner. Her footsteps echoed until they dissolved into waves and birds and frogs and left me in the dark.

#10

*Warning for strong language!*

text:

“Why didn’t you tell me how you’d been feeling?” he asked after a few moments of silence. It was beginning to stretch uncomfortably.

“I know I don’t deserve to know,” he added, “but you’ve always put me first.”

I picked at the wood that peeled from the fence.

“I just want you to be okay,” Lonan croaked. “Please tell me what to do.”

Even when we were together, we still worried about each other. It wasn’t always that way. Maybe that was my fault. I didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I mumbled into the crisp, red air. “To be fair, I didn’t know it like I know now for a long time. I think sometimes I got the same way as a kid. Now I have a name for it, and I still don’t know if it feels right.” I sighed. “I guess… I guess I just thought that was how things were supposed to be. I thought I was only the humming low and the high.”

“Of course that’s not how you’re fucking supposed to be.”

I coughed on a laugh, wiped away a new set of tears. On the rare occasion that Lonan did swear, he sounded much like he was doing it for the first time.

I hadn’t fully realized what I’d said before Lonan’s hand was around my arm. He pulled me close to his chest. I felt smaller than him; warm and safe. I exhaled and sunk into him, didn’t allow anything else in. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“You’re funny and smart and better than a lot of people.”

And... that wraps up all of my excerpts for the time being! I really enjoyed writing the last four chapters of this book. Of course they aren’t perfect. A lot of the book needs improvement. There are entire characters who are flat and plot lines I just forgot about! Come October, I plan to get back into my edits/rewrite the story.

Really quick before I finish writing this:

I just wanted to thank everyone who read about my story and showed genuine interest in the characters. Had I not received all of this love from people in real life and online, I might never have finished this draft at all. When I started this story, my mental health was really quite bad. (I’m doing a whole lot better these days!!) I guess you could say the idea started as more of a journal entry. All of these characters are like little parts of me coming together to help the main character, and I think there’s something really special about that.

Thank you so much! Good luck on all your creative endeavors! It pays off in the end, I promise :)

tag list (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting @cryptid-s-wips @kingsinking @author-a-holmes

#my little note at the end says it all haha #thank you so so much for reading!#I still can't believe I finished this book on five hours of sleep

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voidendron · 2 years

Text

tagged by @vespertine-legacy for a Get to Know the Blogger - thanks, November! :D

1. why did you choose your url?

okay, so there's actually a bit of story behind it so this answer's gonna be long.

I was a roleplayer...god. years ago (6? ish years ago?), for the Transformers fandom, and because of the character I played, I got called "Blitz" and the nickname just kinda stuck, even after I left that fandom. before I'd realized I was trans, my username had "Queen" in it, and I had a separate account for RPing as that character. well, I had both accounts logged into the chat at the same time once cause I'd been chatting on my main, then decided to hop onto the RP one and forgot to disconnect my main (DeviantArt Chat, haha), someone didn't know which one to tag to get my attention, so just caps-locked BLITZQUEEN at me

it didn't take long for me to change my user to that. I eventually drifted away from that fandom, but I decided to name my mascot Blitz for the nostalgia

I started to get uncomfortable with my user, realized I was trans, and started looking for alternatives to the "queen" part of it. I came across the word "indite" which is a synonym for "write." I liked how symmetrical the I's were from each other in "Blitzindite," so decided to roll with it

so yes. my username is literally just "Blitz Writes" (it's also why my writing tag is "blitz indites")

2. any sideblogs?

@thevehszlegacy - where I keep track of my SWTOR OCs. needs updated, but soooo nice to have for sorting reasons

@swtor--screenshots - haven't posted there in a long while, but as the username says

@fr-thecollectors - my Flight Rising blog. currently in an inactive phase on FR, but I still adore my dragons there

@jse--deep-blue-sea - I had a crossover fic from my previous fandom that I stopped writing like two years ago, but decided to try and at least finish it now (mostly bc of the Subnautica part of the crossover). I only post chapters there so I can keep this blog to Star Wars content

I've got a few others I don't really touch anymore, but these are the notable ones

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

2018

4. why did you originally start your blog?

JSE and Markiplier Egos

5. why did you choose your icon?

my current one is my SWTOR main, but I usually have a gas mask one because my mascot has one in place of his face

6. why did you choose your header?

Aesthetic™

but I just really really love that screenshot. one of my favorites I've ever taken

7. what's your post with the most notes?

art from my previous fandom. not gonna link it because of eyestrain (glitching effects) and blood/gore. in this fandom, my post about being able to use headpieces (even the toothpick!!!!) to hide Vette's shock collar in vanilla

8. how many mutuals do you have?

uhhhhhh

idk

is there even a way to check that?

9. how many followers do you have?

249

10. how many blogs do you follow?

11. have you ever made a shitpost?

yeeee. my followers are probably tired of my dumb posts tbh aksjld;sldk

12. how many times do you use tumblr a day?

If I'm on my laptop, I have it open. so I'll just say "quite a bit" and leave it at that

13. have you ever fought another blog?

14. how do you feel about “need to reblog” posts?

can't stand them. the moment I see "everyone should reblog this" "if you don't reblog-" blah blah blah I scroll past whether I liked/agreed with the post or not, oftentimes without even reading the rest of the post.

15. do you like tag games?

sure! makes me nervous tagging others for them, tho

16. do you like ask games?

yessss I love ask games. haven't been doing em much lately, tho. I should get back into them.....

17. which of your mutuals do you think are tumblr famous?

I...don't actually know. but I know some of them are more fandom-famous

18. do you have a crush on a mutual?

nah

tagging: @thedinalixlegacy @raven-of-domain-kwaad and whoever else wants to do it! like I said, tagging others makes me nervous 😅

#get to know me #blitz rambles

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Six

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Six

The irritation had been building all day, like sand rubbing under his skin, and it was especially irritating because Jace knew he didn’t have a good reason for it. Nothing was actually wrong, just a string of little frustrations that hadn’t let up all day, from the ancient coffee maker in their kitchen that didn’t start brewing when it was set to, meaning he had to go to his morning classes without any caffeine, to discovering he’d left his history textbook at home when his professor announced a surprise open-book quiz, right on through to missing his bus home and having to wait forty minutes for the next one, meaning he walked in the door with less than fifteen minutes before his friends were supposed to show up at his place for a group study session.

“Oh, hey,” Simon said when he walked through the door. “You’re home. I was starting to wonder if I got the day wrong and we weren’t having people over tonight, but then Bat texted asking if he should bring Spicy Ranch Doritos—which, obviously—so I figured you were probably just running late, which it turns out you were.”

“Excellent observational skills.” Jace tossed his bag onto the couch, not looking at Simon, and headed for the kitchen, intending to grab a beer from the fridge. Except when he opened it, there weren’t any left, and he realized he’d completely forgotten to go to the store the day before, because of course he had.

He slammed the refrigerator door shut, taking out his frustration on the appliance. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped.

“Everything okay?”

Jace spun around to find Simon in the doorway, watching him with an expression that held both wariness and concern.

“Everything’s peachy.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Simon said mildly. “You definitely use the word ‘peachy’ in casual conversation when things are going great.”

Jace took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Look, I’ve had a shitty day, all right? I’ve had a shitty day, and we’re out of beer, and I don’t need you trying to get me to talk out my feelings or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now.”

“Okay,” Simon agreed. “What do you need?”

Jace blinked. “What?”

“You don’t need to talk about your shitty day,” Simon said, moving into the kitchen to lean on the counter next to him. “So what do you need? Lily’s bringing beer, so that’s already taken care of.”

It should have been a simple question to answer, but Jace wasn’t used to people asking what he needed. Jace wasn’t used to considering what he needed.

“I don’t know.”

“What about a distraction?” Simon offered.

“A distraction,” Jace repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Simon was grinning as he hooked his fingers through Jace’s belt loops and pulled their bodies together. “A distraction.”

Jace licked his lips, dropped his eyes to Simon’s mouth. “People are going to be here in eight minutes.” He didn’t have any objections to spending those eight minutes making out with Simon.

Simon’s grin widened. “Guess I’d better work fast, then.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath as Simon popped the button on his jeans. “What are you doing?”

“I know you’ve had a shitty day,” Simon said, pulling down Jace’s fly, “but you can’t be that out of it.”

Jace let out a soft laugh and let himself slump back against the refrigerator door as Simon took out his rapidly-plumping cock and worked him to full hardness with his hands and mouth.

He was used to Simon teasing, giving him almost enough and then pulling back until he was desperate with it. This was the opposite, with every touch, every lick and swallow driving him relentlessly toward the edge, the frustration of his day bleeding away as Simon blew him with expert efficiency.

In almost no time at all, Jace was struggling to keep his legs under him as he felt his balls start to draw up, and he was so close—

And that was when Simon, the absolute fucker, pulled off his dick to remark with far more casualness than the situation called for, “Did you lock the door when you got home? Because people are going to be here, like, any second.”

Then his mouth was back on Jace’s dick, swallowing him down like it was his job, and Jace was cursing because no, he hadn’t locked the door and any second their friends could walk in and see—Jace, desperate and falling apart; Simon, swollen red lips wrapped around Jace’s cock taking him apart—and that was—it was—

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Jace came with a strangled shout.

Simon worked him through it, pulling back only when a second knock sounded at the door. “Be there in just a minute,” he called, sounding far too composed for someone who’d just given fucking fantastic blowjob.

Simon stood, pressing a quick kiss to Jace’s lips before saying, “Somehow, I just knew you’d have a bit of an exhibitionism kink,” and heading for the door, leaving Jace to fumble his pants closed and try look like he hadn’t just had his brain sucked out through his dick.

“You all right, man?” Bat greeted him as he entered the kitchen, arms loaded with far too many bags of Doritos for six people.

“Uh,” Jace said intelligently.

“Heard you shouting and I figured you must’ve hurt yourself. You were pretty loud.”

“I heard you down the hall,” Maureen added from the living room.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe,” Jace lied, heading out to the living room. “Somebody left his stats book on the floor, and I tripped.”

Simon flashed him a shit-eating grin. Jace had a hard time not staring at his lips, still red and slightly puffy. “You should really be more careful.”

“Going to go help Maia bring stuff up from her car,” Maureen announced, holding up her phone. “Be right back.”

“You do know,” Jace told Simon in a low voice, “that I’m going to get payback for that, right?”

Simon’s smile grew smug. “Yeah. I do.”

After an hour of going over his notes and rehashing the earlier quiz with Lily, Jace was feeling much better about his history class, and even had some ideas for his end-of-term paper. They all took a break when the pizza they’d ordered arrived, and Jace found himself squeezed between Lily and Simon on the couch.

“So,” Lily said around a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese, “you two ready for your big wedding performance this weekend? Please say no, because I’ve still got fifty bucks riding on you not making it through this without panicking.”

“Your concern is so touching,” Jace said. “I really don’t know what I’d do without such supportive friends.”

“Based on what I saw the night we met, you’d spend a lot more time getting drinks thrown in your face by girls whose names you forgot,” Maia said.

“I did not forget her name,” Jace protested. “I hit on her girlfriend.”

“Not actually better,” Maureen observed.

“Okay, one, I had no idea they were dating, and two, not my fault she flirted back.”

“Just try not to get any drinks thrown in your face at cousin Rachel’s wedding,” Simon said, patting his knee condescendingly. And then left it there, like it was totally normal for him to touch Jace casually like this in front of their friends.

“Would it be cheating if I bribed Simon’s sister to take someone Jace hooked up with as her plus one?” Lily asked.

Jace thought she really didn’t need to. He was already panicking.

“Yes,” said Maia and Bat at the same time Simon said, “Oh god, please don’t.”

“You guys are no fun,” Lilly pouted, reaching for another slice of pizza.

“Speaking of Becky,” Maia said with affected casualness, “I was wondering if you could tell her—”

“Give me your phone,” Simon interrupted, holding out his hand. This had the effect of removing his hand from Jace’s knee, and Jace tried not to miss it.

“Sure,” Maia said slowly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Why do you need my phone?”

Simon took the phone and pulled up Maia’s contacts. “So you just text my sister instead of asking me to be your messenger pigeon.” He passed the phone back. “Or call her. I’m not picky as long as I don’t have to be involved.”

Maia stared at the phone for a few seconds, then shrugged and put it back in her pocket with a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Fair. I guess I can, like, be an adult about this or something.”

“Good,” Simon said, his hand making its way back to Jace’s knee. No one else seemed to notice, and Jace tried not to react. “Please do it before Sunday so I don’t have to listen to Becky failing to be subtle about asking about you.”

Maia bit back a grin. “She asks about me?”

“Who wants to place bets on how long it takes Maia to actually call this girl?” Lily asked.

~~~

“Okay, you need to turn down the charm a little bit or I think Bubbe Helen is actually going to try to adopt you,” Simon said as Jace returned from his sixth dance with Simon’s grandmother. Jace didn’t think Simon needed to know that she’d used every one of those to grill him on his family, his plans for the future, his intentions toward her grandson.

“Just tell her you’re not into incest,” Jace told him, eliciting a gagging noise from Becky, the only one of Simon’s relatives still sitting at the table with them.

“Your boyfriend is gross,” Becky informed Simon, stabbing a spear of asparagus from her plate.

Jace grinned at her. “Simon wanted me to turn down the charm. I’m just trying to be accommodating.” He grabbed Simon’s hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. It was something they’d been doing all day, exchanging little gestures of affection like they couldn’t quite keep their hands off each other. Which was actually kind of true in Jace’s case.

It had started during the ceremony, Jace bumping Simon’s shoulder when he noticed him start to tear up during the vows. He’d meant it to be lightly teasing, but Simon had simply flashed him a watery smile and taken his hand, lacing their fingers together. Jace’s stomach had made an odd little flip and he’d squeezed Simon’s hand, and they just...hadn’t stopped touching each other. All through the rest of the ceremony and reception, it was a stream of constant little touches that made Jace wish for things he couldn’t have, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching either.

It didn’t help that Simon looked really good in a suit.

“That’s playing dirty,” Becky huffed. “I can’t hate you when you make my brother smile like that.”

“It’s all part of my devious plan.” He threw a sideways glance at Simon, hoping to catch the smile only to find him glaring daggers at his sister.

“Aww,” Becky cackled, “are you embarrassed? That’s adorable.”

“Embarrassed that you’re my sister? Yes.”

“Consider it payback for your presence throughout my entire adolescence.”

Jace leaned in. “Is there a story here? It sounds like there’s a story.”

“Dude, don’t encourage her.”

Becky leaned back in her chair, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “I have so many stories.”

“Oh, look.” Simon said, standing suddenly and pulling Jace along with him. “There’s Aunt Ruth. We should really go say hi.”

“I’ll still have stories to tell your boyfriend when you get back,” Becky called after them. “Jace, ask him about the llamas!”

Jace followed Simon, barely holding in his laughter as they ducked through the crowd of wedding guests, and then through an unobtrusive door that led out into an empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Simon said, finally turning to face him and looking genuinely apologetic.

Jace shook his head. “Don’t be. I was having fun. I can see why Becky and Maia get along so well.”

“Because they’re both more than happy to tell embarrassing stories about me?” Simon joked.

“Can you blame them? It is pretty fun to watch you get all worked up.”

“You do seem to enjoy getting me worked up,” Simon agreed with a quirk of his eyebrows. “But my cousin’s wedding really isn’t the place for that.”

Jace glanced around the empty hallway. This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

He turned back to Simon, a suggestive smile playing across his lips. “You sure about that?”

“Jace.” Simon’s voice was warning even as his eyes flicked to Jace’s lips and back up again.

Jace curled a hand around the back of Simon’s neck. “Because I’m not sure there’s any such thing as a bad place to get you worked up.”

“Literally everyone I’m related to is in the next room,” Simon protested. But he didn’t pull away.

“Fair point,” Jace conceded. He glanced around the hallway, then tried the nearest door. It opened into a room just large enough to not qualify as a closet. Jace raised a questioning eyebrow at Simon.

Simon looked dubiously at the stacks of office supplies that lined one wall, then back at Jace. “How are you so good at convincing me to make bad decisions?” Simon asked before grabbing him by the tie and dragging him into a kiss.

Jace grinned against his mouth as they stumbled into the room. “It’s my superpower. I got bitten by a radioactive advertising executive as a teenager.”

“Fuck,” Simon muttered, kicking the door closed behind them. “You can’t make Spider-Man references when I’m kissing you; that’s cheating.”

“Yeah?” Jace asked, pushing him against the wall that wasn’t occupied by reams of printer paper. “Does it get you hot when I talk nerdy to you?” He tugged at Simon’s shirt, pulling it free from his pants. “Or does everything I do get you hot?”

“Definitely not everything.” Simon nipped along his jaw. “Your ego, for example? Very unattractive.”

“Now you’re just making things up.” He slid a hand down to cup Simon through his pants, and Simon bucked into the touch. “My ego definitely gets you hot.”

“I know—fuck.” He rocked into Jace’s hand again. “I know some guys have trouble separating their egos from their dicks, but I never thought you’d be one of them.”

“Any association between my ego and my dick is well-deserved.” He tugged at Simon’s belt. “Don’t bother trying to argue. We both know it’d be a lie.”

“Yeah, that’s not actually how arguments wo—oh.” Simon cut off, eyes wide, as Jace dropped to his knees.

Jace smirked up at him. “I figure the best way to avoid staining your suit is if you come in my mouth. Unless you’ve got objections.”

“I have exactly zero objections to having your mouth on me.” Simon curled a hand around Jace’s jaw, drawing his thumb along Jace’s bottom lip. “Like, ever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jace flicked his tongue out to catch the tip of Simon’s thumb and reached to finish unbuckling his belt.

He froze at the unmistakable sound of the door opening behind him.

Jace’s eyes were trained on Simon’s face, so he saw the emotions play out across it in real time: surprise, then panic, then a slowly dawning horror.

“Bubbe Helen!” Simon’s voice just barely managed to avoid being a squeak. “Hi! We were, uh, we were just—” He looked down at Jace helplessly.

The thing was, Jace had always been good in a crisis. No, that wasn’t exactly right. He’d always been calm in a crisis. Probably as a result of having endured so many starting at such a young age.

So, his gaze and voice were completely steady as he took Simon’s hand in both his own and asked, “Will you marry me?”

He heard a voice behind him that sounded suspiciously like Becky mutter, “Oh my god.”

Simon stared. “Wha—uh. Yes?” His eyes flickered up toward the doorway, then back to Jace. “Yes,” he said more firmly. “I will definitely marry you, which is of course why you’re on your knees right now, and…”

His voice trailed off as Jace pulled his ring—his father’s ring, the only ring he ever wore—off his own finger and slid it onto Simon’s. It was a little loose, but not enough to slide off.

Simon flexed his hand, the fluorescent light above glinting off the brushed platinum. And then he was pulling Jace to his feet and into a kiss that held a decidedly hysterical edge.

The kiss was short-lived, interrupted by a very deliberate throat clearing. Jace kept Simon’s hand clasped firmly in his as he turned around, the metal of the ring pressing into his skin a reminder of what he’d just done.

Bubbe Helen was watching him with a decidedly unimpressed look. Behind her, Becky had a hand clapped over her mouth, smothering what could have been either an overflow of emotion or laughter.

“Young man, did you just propose marriage to my grandson in a storage closet?”

Jace pasted on his best facsimile of a sheepish smile and prepared to lie his ass off.

~~~

“Look, I panicked, okay?”

Outside, rain poured down in heavy sheets, obscuring the passing scenery and dampening any other sounds. It made the inside of the van feel cut off from the rest of the world, like they were alone in their own tiny, bubble universe.

A muscle in Simon’s jaw twitched. “You said that already.” He kept his eyes on the road.

Jace’s eyes fell to the steering wheel, where the soft platinum of his father’s ring still rested on Simon’s finger. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

Simon didn’t respond to that, and Jace wished he could see his eyes, could find even the tiniest clue to what he was thinking. He’d barely said anything since they made their hasty exit from the reception. At least Becky and Bubbe Helen had agreed not to mention Simon’s supposed engagement to his mom until he could tell her himself.

The silence stretched between them as Jace stared out into the blurry downpour. The one saving grace to all of this was that at least no one else knew about it. Their friends would never let them hear the end of it if they found out. And Jace’s family, god, that would be a disaster. Izzy would probably try to plan the whole thing and they’d somehow end up actually married before Jace could even explain the situation to her.

“You know,” Simon said into the silence, “I hated you before I even met you.”

Jace didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know if there was anything to say to that. That was okay, though, because Simon kept talking.

“Clary’s been my best friend since we were kids. My mom likes to tell the story of how we met on the playground and spent the whole day trying to build a moat around the swing set so no one else could play on it, but I don’t actually remember it. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t friends with Clary. She’s just always been a part of my life. The best part, sometimes.”

He took a deep breath, threw a quick glance at Jace before continuing. “So, of course I fell in love with her.”

The words hit Jace like a punch to the gut, and he was very, very glad Simon’s eyes were back on the road and he couldn’t see the jumble of emotions that Jace was sure were written all over his face.

“We were in sixth grade when I realized,” Simon continued. “I think I’d probably been in love with her for a while, but it just sort of hit me one day that I was just completely and totally gone for her. And it only took me like ten minutes after that to figure out that she didn’t feel the same way about me, but that was okay. I mean, it wasn’t. That kind of thing never is when you’re twelve.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Or when you’re an adult either, I guess. But it was as okay as it could be because I figured I just had to wait. Clary was the most important person in the world to me, and even though she didn’t love me like I loved her, I knew I was the most important person in her life, too, so I just figured.” He shrugged. “I figured that eventually she’d realize that we could be, you know, more.”

His voice got soft as he continued, “And then she met you.”

Jace sucked in a sharp breath. “Simon, I—”

“I’m glad she did,” Simon interrupted, and he sounded like he meant it. “Even though it sucked at the time. Every time she mentioned you, I just wanted to punch you in the face. Which is why I always made an excuse not to meet you, by the way. I thought if I did and you really were as perfect as she described you, I would actually hit you.”

“I did always wonder about the mysterious best friend who was never around,” Jace said around the odd lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow down. “She talked about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised. “That’s actually really good to hear. And it makes me even more glad she met you, because her falling for you, even spending so much time with you, it gave me time to get over her.”

The knot in Jace’s throat loosened an inch.

“By the time you guys broke up, I’d actually dated a couple of people who weren’t Clary, and even though I didn’t feel as strongly for any of them as I did for her, I realized that part of what makes our friendship so special is that it is friendship. And I think we might have really fucked that up if we tried to be anything else, so I’m glad we never did, because my friendship with Clary is still one of the best things in my life, and I’m pretty sure it always will be.”

“Is that what you wrote Random Afternoon about? About you and Clary?” It wasn’t what Jace meant to say at all, but he opened his mouth and the words just came tumbling out.

Simon’s let out a soft huff of laughter. “No.” He shook his head. “It’s, uh. It’s not about Clary.”

Jace didn’t understand what was so funny, but he wasn’t going to ask. Just like he wasn’t going to ask who the song was about. Wasn’t going to think about why he cared so much.

“She was my first love, too,” he said instead.

Simon nodded slowly, digesting this information. “I wondered. I mean, when Clary used to talk about you, it sure sounded like you loved her, but once I found out you were, you know, you, I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He was fiddling with the ring, now, twisting it slowly around his finger with his thumb. Jace wondered if he knew he was doing it. “I didn’t think you were a relationship kind of guy.”

“I’m not.” That wasn’t what anyone wanted from him. Even Clary, who really had loved him once upon a time, hadn’t wanted him to stay. And even if someone did want that from him, he was pretty sure now that he wouldn’t know how to give it to them.

“And there hasn’t been anyone since Clary who’s made you reconsider?” Simon’s hands were still on the steering wheel now, his face impassive in the flickering light of passing cars.

Jace thought back to that night weeks ago, when Simon told him that maybe they wouldn’t be a mistake, and just for a second he’d thought—he’d hoped—but of course that wasn’t what Simon had meant.

“No.”

“Of course not. Stupid question.” Simon flashed him a smile, but there was a worried crease between his brows.

The last thing Jace wanted from him was pity, especially over this. “So, tell me about the llamas,” he said, desperate to change the subject.

Simon winced. “Can we just pretend Becky never mentioned llamas?”

“Nope.” Jace grinned. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll get Maia to ask Becky. I’m sure your sister would be happy to share.”

“You’re seriously the worst,” Simon said before launching into a long, involved story about his and Clary’s third grade trip to a llama farm and how Becky had thought it was hilarious to tell them that llamas were venomous.

“So, there I was, just covered in llama spit,” Simon finished as he unlocked their apartment door, “crying my eyes out because I thought was going to die, with Clary shouting at the poor farmhand that her dad was cop and he was going to go to jail for murder. And of course Becky didn’t even get in trouble or apologize. She just started getting me llama-themed birthday gifts.”

“Just so we’re absolutely clear,” Jace snickered, following him inside, “I’m laughing at you, not with you.”

“Which is one of many reasons I should have known better than to let you meet my sister. Speaking of which,” he pulled Jace’s ring off his finger and held it out, “I wouldn’t want to forget to give this back.”

Jace looked at the ring, then back up at Simon, swallowing hard. “You should keep it. Until we break up.” Something flashed in Simon’s eyes, and Jace hurried to correct himself. “Until we tell our families we broke up, I mean. In case you need to, I don’t know, sell the story.”

“Jace, I know what this ring means to you. I can’t just—”

“You can.” He reached out and closed Simon’s fingers over the ring, holding them there. “I trust you to keep it safe.”

Simon stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching. “Okay,” he agreed. “Until we break up.”

Something in Jace’s chest loosened, and he stepped back, letting Simon’s hand drop from his. “Cool. I’m gonna heat up some pizza rolls. You want me to make enough for you?”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Yeah, pizza rolls sound great. Cheeseburger flavor, not triple cheese, though.”

“Obviously,” Jace said, heading to the kitchen. He didn’t think about the ring, or how naked his hand felt without it. Or why it mattered so much to him that Simon agreed to keep it, if only for a little while.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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auror-lovie · 4 years

Text

I Loved You, Mr. Scamander: Chapter 1

━━━•✦.✧. Author’s Note.✧.✦•━

I decided to post these up again. Hopefully they show up in the tags! I can’t wait to show my work with you all!

You can find the playlist link in my bio! If you want to be added to my taglist, just send me an ask or fill out the taglist form that is also linked in my bio!

━━━━━•✦.✧. Summary .✧.✦•━

Let’s just say that first loves are something else.

━━━━━•✦.✧. Warnings .✧.✦•━

Small Angst

Ravenclaw reader ( I hope that won’t sway your opinion on the fic! )

Pssst. Victoria is my HP/FBAWTFT OC~~

Hamilton reference

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

I Loved You, Mr. Scamander; Chapter 1: Wish I Were...

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

From their first year at Hogwarts, Newt and (Y/N) were always friends. During a Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw joint class for Potions, Newt had a little trouble getting some ingredients from a shelf that was out of his reach. Until a Ravenclaw girl from his year helped. From that day on, he realized that they shared more classes than he thought. They were inseparable. Back then, she’d tease him because of his height. Now, she couldn’t joke about it. He towered over her and they were only in their third year of Hogwarts.

What she didn’t expect was to fall in love with him. Cliché, right? She loved his personality- a gentle soul whose loyalty matched no other. She loved the way he’d care for magical creatures. He didn’t trap them or used them for personal gain. No- that wasn’t Newt. He kept magical creatures to study them. So he could prove to the world that they weren’t as dangerous as the books made them.

She fell in love with his smile. A smile that always followed his laugh. The way the corners of his eyes would crinkle when he was in pure happiness. She fell in love with the color of his eyes. They were a mix of blue and green- not one or the other, but somehow merging to form into its own.

(Y/N) and Newt were walking down the halls from Professor Dumbledore’s class, heading over to the library. She hadn’t noticed the cold until a breeze passed through the empty hall. “Ah shoot. I forgot my robes in his class,” (Y/N) mumbled, rubbing her upper arms.

Her mind soon became focused on one thing, staying warm. The walk to the library was starting to feel like a long journey. ‘Hot chocolate, being home, sunshine, summer, warm hugs from Newt-’ She repeated the mantra in her head. Wait- warm hugs from Newt?

The feeling of a warm cloth placed over her shoulders broke her from her trance. (Y/N) looked at the source of her newfound warmth- Newt’s robes. She looked up at her Hufflepuff friend, “Newt! But you’ll get cold!”

Newt let out a soft chuckle. “You know, for a Ravenclaw, you’re quite forgetful.”

(Y/N) blushed, “D-Don’t you start, Newton!” She stuttered. There were only two instances where she would use his full first name. Whenever the situation was serious or to tease him. This moment was the latter of the two.

“Besides, it looks better on you than it did me.” He said, giving her a charming smile.

Oh, how she loved his smile. She felt her chest swell up with adoration. ‘Only if you knew how much I liked you…’ She thought as she hugged his Hufflepuff robes closer to her body.

~*~*~

The duo met up with another one of their friends, Victoria. She was already in their designated meeting spot. Her nose stuck in her Potions book when (Y/N) and Newt reached the library.

When they reached the table, Victoria set down her book and looked up at them. “Five minutes late, my dear birdies.”

(Y/N) sighed, “Vi, it’s only five minutes.”

Victoria leaned back on her seat, relaxing a bit. “Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.” She said matter-a-factly.

“Sorry about that, Vi. We got caught up in Dumbledore’s class.” Newt apologised.

She hummed in response. "That’s okay, Newton. Let’s get started on these assignments so we can all leave this place.” Victoria cooed softly.

“Oh, so, Newt gets your soft mom voice and I get your lecture mom voice?” (Y/N) ranted as she sat down.

Newt chuckled at their banter before walking off to find the book he needed for his essay.

Victoria had waited for Newt to be out of earshot before she leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands. “Last time I checked, you were a Ravenclaw this morning.” She whispered.

(Y/N) looked up at Victoria in confusion as she opened Victoria’s Potions textbook. “What are you talking about?”

Victoria’s eyes landed on the Hufflepuff crest on the robe (Y/N) was wearing before looking back at her friend.

She blushed, “O-Oh! I was just cold… That’s all…”

Victoria rolled her eyes, “I was just cold! That’s all..” She mimicked teasingly. “But seriously… Are you ever going to tell him?”

(Y/N) shook her head, “No, I don’t think I will…”

Victoria gave her a look as if to say “Really?”

“I mean, I won’t tell him now. I’ll tell him when I’m ready and when we’re a bit older.” (Y/N) confessed.

Newt finally came back with a Herbology book and set it down. “Tell who what when we’re older?”

“Oh, nothing! Just talking about potential career choices. That’s all!” Victoria said, before (Y/N) could say anything.

He nodded, “Well… I guess it’s never too early to decide what you want to do.”

(Y/N) looked at Victoria, mouthing “Thank you”.

~*~*~

December passed and the next semester had started. As they left Potions, Victoria and (Y/N) were discussing the day’s lesson, but Newt’s attention was elsewhere.

His attention was on a certain Slytherin student.

“Newt? Hello, Newt? Earth to Newton?” Victoria said, trying to get the Hufflepuff’s attention.

(Y/N) looked at her other friend, following his gaze to see him staring at Leta Lestrange. He was staring at Leta, as she passed by, in the same way he stared at his creatures, with love and adoration.

“Victoria, drop it.” (Y/N) said coldly.

Victoria looked at her friend. From the moment they became close friends, (Y/N) refused to call her Victoria. So she knew something was up. “O-Okay…”

As the weeks passed by, all Newt's affections had stopped. He stopped waiting for (Y/N) after breakfast so they could walk to class together. He stopped staying late at Dumbledore's class with her. He stopped giving her his robes. After it happened the first time, she made an effort to never forget her robes again. He stopped asking her to help him with his creatures. Their close friendship, lost because he started hanging out with Leta.

“Why would he ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty…” (Y/N) sobbed into Victoria’s shoulder as they sat by the lake.

Victoria wrapped her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder and sighed, “One day… Something will happen. He’ll realize his feelings, but it’ll be too late…”

“I wish I were Leta… Then maybe he’d love me…”

One day, while walking to the library, she saw it. Newt placed his robes over her shoulder. She saw the shy smile Leta gave him. She saw the smile Newt gave that followed his laugh. That’s when she realized that they were in love with each other.

She briskly made her way to the library, looking for Victoria, tears already falling down her cheeks.

When (Y/N) came to their meeting spot, Victoria stood, “Hey, what’s-”

(Y/N) ran straight into her arms, interrupting her. Victoria looked down at her. Never had she seen her best friend so heartbroken. All she could do was hug her and comfort her the best way she could.

After the small crying session, Victoria held (Y/N) by the shoulders. “Okay (Y/N), here’s what we're going to do. I’m going to let you cry about him for a week. Avoid him, punch a wall, scream in anger and pain. Do whatever it takes to get your emotions out. Then after a week, you’ll get up and stop thinking about him.”

(Y/N) sniffled, wiping some of the snot on her sleeve. “Y-You’re acting as if Newt and I broke up.”

“Well, you’re crying like it,” Victoria said, patting (Y/N)’s shoulders. “Come on, we have a whole future to worry about guys. Right now, we’re going to do whatever it takes to get us training to be Aurors after we graduate.” She said, smiling at her friend.

“Yeah, we’ll take names and kick ass.” (Y/N) joked.

Victoria winked at her, “That’s my girl. And like I always say, birds of a feather-”

“Flock together.” They said in unison.

~*~*~

And (Y/N) did that. She cried. She wrote angry letters, sad letters, love letters to Newt then ripped them to shreds. She’d punched a pillar once and broke her left hand- yikes, that was not a pretty sight. Victoria had done everything she could to make (Y/N) feel better.

After a week, Victoria came into (Y/N)’s dorm and woke her up. From then on, those two worked hard and smart. They took opportunities whenever they could.

Fifth year came along and the Headmaster had a hard time choosing between the two to be the Ravenclaw prefect of their year. (Y/N) declined the offer, letting Victoria take the prefect position. Although confused, Victoria proudly took the title and accepted the responsibilities.

Fifth year was the year Newt and (Y/N) reconciled. They apologized for leaving each other. They apologized for all the miscommunication. It didn’t take long for them to become friends again. His affections returned, but not to the extent to what it was in their third year.

He waited to walk to classes with her before parting ways. He had “Care of Magical Creatures” while she and Victoria headed off to “Defense Against the Dark Arts”. He tried his best to balance his time between Leta and (Y/N). Though in the end, he would always choose Leta.

When word got out that (Y/N) and Newt were hanging out with each other again, Victoria got concerned.

“Now, is this strictly platonic?”

“Of course it is! Newt’s just a fr-… He’s…” (Y/N) trailed off.

Victoria leaned her back against the bookshelf, crossing her arms over her chest. “You caught feelings again, didn’t you?”

(Y/N) could only nod in agreement.

It did take time for Victoria to trust him again. Who could blame her? He broke her best friend’s heart. Soon after that, she was back to being the “mom friend” of the group. (Y/N), Newt, and Leta- Victoria would do anything to protect her friends.

That was until Newt got expelled. In Sixth Year, one of Leta's experiments involving a Jarvey went too far, endangering the life of another student. Instead of seeing his best friend expelled, Newt took the blame for Leta’s actions. Victoria, (Y/N), and Leta were in the room where it happened. The Headmaster had dismissed the girls. (Y/N) and Leta left, but Victoria stayed to try and defend Newt’s innocence along with Professor Dumbledore.

As they walked farther from the Headmaster’s office, (Y/N) called out to Leta, trying to get her attention. She finally stopped Leta by gently holding onto her shoulder. “Leta,” She said in a serious tone.

Leta turned around, moving her shoulder to get (Y/N)’s hand off. “What is it now?”

“You’re going to ask that when you’re the reason Newt’s expelled? The audacity.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that!” Leta retorted.

(Y/N) scoffed, “He did it because he loved you, Leta! All you did was take and take from him and you loved it. You loved his attention and his loyalty and you just ate it up.”

“Don’t talk to me about loyalty. You and Victoria had no problem ditching him when I came around. You two quickly climbed the ranks in your house. Too bad you weren’t good enough to be prefect.”

(Y/N) stood there in silence. Leta was wrong. She could’ve been prefect. She chose not to take it. No hard feelings. (Y/N) thought that Victoria would be a better candidate. Her eyes teared up- not in sadness, but anger.

Leta saw this as an opportunity to add more fuel to the fire, “And don’t think I didn’t notice… You loved him too.”

Still she stood in silence.

"Well, someone's ought to remind you-"

"What?" (Y/N) snapped.

"You're nothing without Victoria behind you."

"How dare you-" (Y/N) started, pulling out her wand and aimed it at Leta.

“(Y/N).” Victoria’s voice called.

(Y/N) gasped.

“Mummy’s calling.” Leta teased before turning to walk away.

#fbawtft #fbtcog #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #fantastic beasts fanfiction #wizarding world #harry potter fanfiction #Series: ILYMS

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part 18 of ??)

Hey everyone! I 'm probably going to get the rest of this chapter out... Friday? My brain just won’t focus today and I wanted to get something out today :)

If you are new here and want to read from the beginning, here is the link for Part One. I also have links to all the parts on my Masterlist, which is pinned to the top of my page :)

Taggles: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (If you want to be added to the tags list, please just ask to be added below or you can always DM me :) )

Satan/F!Mc

Word Count: 3,172

TW: angst

“I have just done the impossible,” Mc announced, feeling very satisfied.

“Huh?” Satan asked, blinking as he put his book down.

Mc sighed, and flopped on him dramatically, “I just went to petition for our son to stay from the evil overlord, and you couldn’t even greet me for my victorious return?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll never guess what just happened in… Wait… He agreed to it?!”

Mc beamed up at him, holding a paper, “He just asks that you sign this to lay some ground rules down.”

“I knew he’d do something like this,” Satan huffed, folding his arms, “It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, not to play devil’s advocate,” Mc laughed a bit at the expression, “But you did fill the house with cats last time you were allowed to have one. I can understand his… reservations on the subject.”

Satan frowned, looking away from her, “So, even you agree with him?”

“Well, obviously not about everything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to make him let us keep Leo. I can sympathize with not wanting your house overrun with animals. Especially when you’ve already got so many trouble makers already in the house… Am I wrong?” she asked at his frown.

Satan sighed, “I guess not.”

“Just think of it this way. If you can prove to Lucifer you can be responsible and take care of Leo, you might be allowed to keep another cat down the road.”

“You need to stop making such good points Mc,” Satan huffed a laugh, his irritation gone.

“Hmmm… I think I need to continue to make great points actually. Okay, while you look over the contract to make sure Lucifer doesn’t have something up his sleeve, I’m going to go tell Leo the good news.”

“He was upstairs last time I checked,” Satan called over his shoulder as Mc went off in search of the cat. She took the stairs two at a time, having gotten used to climbing them since Leo came into their life. Coming to the top, her eyes scanned the area for him, “Leo! Leo, where are you?”

A small meow announced the presence of said cat, coming out of nowhere, as usual. He started twining between Mc’s legs, looking up every once in a while to meow at her. Once she stopped, Mc laughed, picking him up. He adjusted his paws until he was hugging her as usual, purring the whole time, “Oh baby boy, did you miss me? I know I missed you. But, you’ll never guess! Lucifer said you could stay. Daddy’s looking over the rules right now to make sure they’re acceptable, but after that you’ll be able to stay here! No more roaming the streets in search of your next meal, though you’ll be allowed out obviously. You just have to promise you’ll come back,” Mc started scratching between his shoulder blades, eliciting an even louder purr, “Oh, it’s been awhile since I had a cat. I forgot how soothing purring is,” then whispering conspiratorially, “You’ll be so good for Satan. Speaking of which, let's go downstairs and see him.”

Satan was frowning slightly at the document, his reading glasses having materialized out of nowhere. Mc was sure he didn’t actually need them, seeing as how he was a near immortal being, and suspected he only used them as a tool for intense studying, but she was never going to complain. He looked so good with them on. She shifted Leo to one arm, and took out her phone to snap a photo of Satan. She loved that they had a relationship where they could just snap photos of each other without the other thinking it was weird.

Satan looked up at the camera sound, and reached for his polaroid, “Say cheese.”

Mc laughed, posing with Leo. The photo soon emerged, and Satan smiled as he watched the photo start emerging, “Another one for the drawer.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Mc asked, coming closer to stand next to Satan. Leo wiggled a bit, so she put him in Satan’s lap, where he circled a couple times before curling into a ball.

“It seems… reasonable enough at first glance. I’ll have to go over it in more detail later, but I think you did it.”

Mc grinned and threw her arms over the back of Satan’s chair, giving him a hug from behind, “I’m so glad. Not only does Leo get a home, now you have someone to keep you company while I’m back at home.”

Satan’s hands grabbed her arms, pulling them even tighter to himself, “Do you really have to go?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she smiled, kissing the top of his head, “I could never stay away from you for too long. Plus, I need to make sure to keep Diavolo happy. Otherwise I won’t be able to return at all.”

“I should petition him to let me go with you.”

“You have a job to do down here, Darling. Plus, I don’t want to see what would happen if you got stuck in rush hour traffic. I think you might be able to come visit me though.”

Satan sighed, kissing Mc’s hand, “Only if Lucifer allowed it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him,” Mc smiled, moving down to kiss Satan’s cheek, his soft hair tickling her nose.

He turned his head, eyes soft, a little smile gracing his lips, “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

“I promise,” Mc smiled, looking straight into the eyes.

Mc awoke a bit abruptly, though it wasn’t unpleasant. That was until a wave of loneliness suddenly crashed down, causing her eyes to open, though they were reluctant. The soft light in the room allowed her eyes to adjust rather quickly, revealing the demon she’d been dreaming about, “Mnh, Satan?” He was standing closer to her than she would’ve expected. She extended her arm, to grab at his hand, “Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered softly, accepting her hand in his. The loneliness instantly disappeared, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Mc relaxed instantly, “Mmmm… No. It was a really nice dream actually.”

“I’m sorry you had to wake up then.”

“Mmmm, is okay. It’s nice to wake up and have you here,” she answered truthfully, sleep turning her filter off.

Satan’s eyes went wide, and his grip on her hand tightened and then went rigid, “Really?”

“Mmmhmm,” she answered, closing her eyes.

“Hey. You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again. It’s getting kind of late and you still need to get back to the castle.”

“I can’t just stay here?” Mc asked, yawning loudly, “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

”I’m afraid not. I don’t think Luke or Michael would like that very much.”

“... I guess you’re right,” Mc sighed, forcing herself to sit up. The blanket on her body fell down, and she frowned at it, her sleep addled brain trying to think, “Did I grab a blanket?”

“Oh, that was me. I know my room can get pretty chilly so I wanted to make sure you weren’t too cold.”

Mc blinked at the kindness, her brain clearing, “Oh my… I fell asleep. I’m so sorry! I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I promise it’s not because it was boring or anything. It was really lovely actually. I hope-”

“Hey, hey. Please don’t worry yourself Mc. I feel honored you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence,” he smiled kindly.

Mc felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down, “Still. It’s rude to fall asleep when spending time with someone.”

Satan chuckled and squoze her hand, “You can fall asleep around me if you’d like. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. If I’d had a problem with it I would have woken you up earlier.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course Mc,” Satan smiled again, and Mc felt her heart jolt a bit, “We should probably get you back to the castle soon.”

“R-Right.”

Mc sat at her desk, writing in the notebook usually reserved for her art ideas. She’d need to get a new one soon, but this would have to do for now. Now that she’d had time to think everything through, she was starting to piece something together. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had the feeling it would lead to what she’d been searching for this whole time.

Let’s see, there’s all these dreams… Though, should they even be called that? Are they prophecies? It’s not deja vu, as the situations don’t feel like they’re repeating. Just a sense of familiarity. I might even be able to write it all off as a dream if it weren’t for the fact that Satan’s room was the same as that other dream I’d had, and I’d never been there before. There’s obviously something going on and I need to figure out what it is. Mc looked down at the sheet in front of her realizing she’d been drawing the whole time she’d been thinking. She was a bit flustered when she saw it was Satan when he’d been holding her hand. She shut her notebook, that strange feeling when Satan had smiled at her earlier flitting around in her chest. She had written off the feeling as residual embarrassment combined with relief that he wasn’t upset. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Mc. Are you in there?”

“Just a moment Diavolo,” Mc called out, putting her notebook under her pillow. She felt the strong need to hide what she was doing, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She opened the door to his wide smiling face, “I was wondering if you would like to join me in a game of chess?”

“Oh. Sure, if you want. I’m not very good at it though.”

“That’s alright. After all, how is someone supposed to get better at something if they don’t practice?”

“Very true. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in playing against someone who’s not at your level.”

“Who’s to say I’m above your level?”

“Well, generally when people own a chess set they’re above my level,” Mc smirked.

“Fair enough,” Diavolo laughed, gesturing for Mc to follow him.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“That, not only are you a gracious winner, but that you’re even more skilled at this game than I first thought. It takes skill to bring your playing down to novice level without making “mistakes”.”

Diavolo chuckled, moving another piece, “I wouldn’t say you’re a novice. You’re doing quite well.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there, but thank you anyway.”

“If I’m as skilled as you say, wouldn’t I be better qualified to assess your skill level than yourself?”

“I suppose,” Mc hummed, wondering what Diavolo was getting at.

“Satan is pretty talented when it comes to chess as well.”

Mc paused in moving her piece, “Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s probably the most tenacious player I’ve ever met. Though he’s never beat me, he’s gotten very close before.”

“Ah.”

“That attitude is what made him who he is. His desire to grow and learn is one of his defining characteristics. Though it’s probably not a fair comparison, he has grown and continues to grow the most out of all his brothers.”

“Why would you say it’s not fair?”

“Because they already had defined personalities when they Fell. Certain characteristics were obviously enhanced or repressed turning from angels to demons, but they’re essentially the same beings.

“Satan is a different story. Though he came from Lucifer and has memories of the Celestial Realm, all he really was in the beginning was wrath, the most literal embodiment of his sin I could imagine. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never met another being like him. He is truly unique. I watched all the brothers adjust to their sin, figuring out how they would represent their sin. They’ve all struggled in their own way, but Satan’s struggle is of a different kind. He’s had to learn how to go against everything he was to become something more.

Which brings me back to my point: It’s probably not fair to compare his growth to his brothers, but he continues to grow and learn from his mistakes, while the others seem to have… stagnated a bit.”

Mc nodded as she surveyed the gameboard, though her thoughts were more on their conversation. She had so many questions about Satan, many ones she didn’t feel she could ask him...

“So, anything else on your mind?”

“Only if you’re offering answers.”

Diavolo looked Mc straight in the eyes, “Ask away.”

Mc blinked a couple times, “Umm… Of course I can’t think of anything really pressing now.”

“What’s the first question that comes to mind?”

“Well, I guess since we were talking about it, what was his last period of intense growth?”

Diavolo cocked his head, “Interesting question. Besides right now?... Though it’s not a happy memory, probably the grieving period after she died.”

“Do you mean the girl he wrote the song for? Mammon told me a little bit about it.”

“How much did he tell you?” Diavolo asked slowly, eyes searching hers.

“I would guess the basics? He said he’d loved a human, and after she passed away, he played the song one last time and then said he’d never play it again, but then he did at the dinner party. He also mentioned he hadn’t dated anyone before or since her.”

“I suppose those are the basics,” Diavolo sighed, moving another piece on the board.

“Can… Will… You tell me about her?” Mc asked, the question feeling more important than it had when Mammon had first mentioned it.

“Hmmm… I think my hands might be tied wen it comes to that question,” Mc felt an unexpected wave of disappointment wash through her at his answer, “But, I sense there’s more to that question than what you asked.”

“I… Maybe?” Mc answered, her reaction shocking her. Even so, she couldn’t dispel the feeling.

“What made you ask the question?”

“I… It seems important,” was the only thing Mc could think to answer with.

Interesting. Well, checkmate, and with that, it’s time for me to head to bed. Goodnight Mc.”

“Oh, you’re right. Goodnight,” Mc answered, though her thoughts were far from the game that sat in front of her.”

Mc sighed for what felt like the eightieth time that night. What could Diavolo have meant by all that? He was obviously hunting at something. The problem is, I’m not sure what it is. Though, why do I care about her? It seems more than me just being concerned for Satan’s well being. He’s obviously feeling better about the whole situation with her, seeing as how he played that song.

Mc replayed her memory of him playing the song in question, and found herself questioning that assessment. If he truly was feeling better, wouldn’t the longing in his voice have lessened? He had laid all his feelings bare, and the truth was, he wasn’t over her.

A stab of jealousy attacked her heart, making her blink a couple times. She went back to the memory in question, only to find the whole thing tinged in the sin. She retreated further into her head, far from the feeling. She sat up, grabbing the glass of water from her bedside table, hands shaking. As she tried to put it back down, her fingers loosened too much and she almost ended up spilling the rest of the water. Sighing the eighty-first time that night, she grabbed the book off the table, opening it and trying to drown out her feelings.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Barbatos asked, stepping forward to refill Luke’s glass with whatever tea he’d decided on serving them.

“Everything tastes great. I’m just not hungry this morning,” Mc smiled weakly, before returning to pushing the food around her plate. Attempting to make the butler feel better, she took a bite of the pride cake he’d prepared. It had actually become a favorite of hers, much to the delight of Diavolo who couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Today however, it reminded her more of glue than anything else.

“Are you feeling alright Mc??” Michael asked, “You’ve seemed… off these past couple days.”

“I just haven’t been able to sleep lately,” Mc answered, “I’ve just hit a snag in my art.”

“Maybe you should take some time off today then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have the day free, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about something,” Michael tried again.

“Actually, I’m just going to head out to clear my head.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Well, I do need to talk to you sometime soon.”

“Sure,” Mc answered, relieved he wasn’t going to push the situation further.

Mc wandered aimlessly, willing the sounds of the Devildom to drown out her thoughts, but she seemed to have opened some sort of floodgate in her thoughts. Angels were known for their extreme restraint when it comes to their own feelings. During the process of becoming an angel, there was a sort of damper that was put on their feelings. Supposedly it could be turned on or off at will like a switch. Many angels went their whole existence without turning the switch off. Mc had seen Simeon when his had been off, usually when he was writing, so she knew it existed. She also had some control over her switch, but she had a feeling hers didn’t work quite as well as other angels. She’d theorized that’s why she could create art as readily as she did, and why it seemed humans related more to her art than her fellow angels. When she was younger, she figured it would develop more once she got older. It hadn’t however. She might have had an easier time covering up how she actually felt, but the control wasn’t there.

Now however, it seemed like she had no control over it, relying on outside influences to help her from feeling like she was losing her mind. Among her newfound jealousy at center stage, she could feel her anger at Michael hiding in the eves of her mind. There was also a confusion that seemed to be seeping into everything else she did and was, lighting the whole scene. She had no idea what had changed, but she wished it would stop. She was getting a headache. No wonder humans sometimes went crazy.

“Mc? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey Mammon. What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ got outta RAD for the day. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, I’m… trying to clear my head.”

“So wha’s botherin’ ya?”

“What?”

“You’re havin’ a hard time right? I can see it all written all over your face,” Mammon smiled kindly, “Come get some ice cream with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hehe ^_^

Part Eighteen and a Half

#OBEY ME #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me fic #obey me f!mc #obey me! swd #obey me swd #finding you #aspenflower17 #obey me long fic

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