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my-head-is-an-animal · 11 months

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The Secrets That Bind Us

Bobby Waterhouse x Original Female Character

Chapter 4

Bobby was nervous, he’d not really gone over to anyone’s flat so late before, sure he’d had the odd rendezvous with Michael, but nothing like this. He arrived quite late to Esther’s flat, surprised at how close it was to Jackson’s, and saw that the light was on in her room. He pressed the button on the buzzer and was let up immediately.

The hallway was quiet, aside from music humming from the floor above. He moved quickly up the stairs, not wanting to be seen, Esther opened the door the second he was about to knock. She grinned at him, looking quite casual in her silk shorts and what appeared to be a man’s shirt. Bobby swallowed nervously.

‘Come in Bobby.’ She half rolled her eyes and as he stepped in, it was to find her flat was not exactly what he pictured it to be.

It was cluttered, but not messy, books filled the shelves but also stacked up on the floor where she’d run out of room. A single table sat with a worn chess set, ready to be played and a double bed sat behind it, the wardrobe was open and clothes were hanging over the doors as well as inside, and Bobby recognised some of the outfits from the office. The kitchen was on the opposite side of the room, partially sectioned off, but small and much the same as everywhere else, dim, cluttered but somehow tidy. The last thing to catch Bobby’s eye was a record player, it looked expensive and he wondered how she might have acquired it.

‘I won it in a bet.’ She answered his question. ‘Men think women don’t know how to hustle or play chess or poker, I prove them wrong; frequently.’ She grinned up at his uncomfortable expression. ‘I’m afraid I drank pretty much all the beer and wine, all I’ve got left is whiskey, I assume that’s more to your taste anyway.’

Esther went into the kitchen and Bobby could hear the clinking of glass.

‘Make yourself comfortable.’ She called. ‘Sorry it’s a mess.’

‘Quite alright, no need to apologise.’ Bobby called back, awkwardly.

Esther returned with two small glasses filled only a quarter of the way with golden liquid. Bobby sat down on one of the wooden chairs either side of the chess table, removing his gloves and feeling very uncomfortable indeed.

She handed him one of the glasses and sat opposite him.

The way Esther observed him with her deep brown eyes, she just seemed to see him for who he was and accept that for what it was, no judgments. He let a breath go and felt himself finally releasing some of the discomfort he felt.

‘So.’ Esther said, sipping her whiskey, making him do the same. ‘Where would you like to start?’

Bobby thought for a moment, he honestly had no idea. He knew so little about their situation that he couldn’t even begin to know what to ask.

Esther took pity on him and smiled that sweet smile that had other men swooning. ‘Bobby, I have already stated my interest in maintaining the illusion of a long term relationship between the two of us, now we can discuss what that means, the details of which we can revise and adjust accordingly. Or if you’d rather come up with an alternative, I’d be happy to listen and come to an arrangement with you. The choice really is yours.’

Bobby thought for a moment, long term would certainly solve a lot of issues he had, but he wondered if he could commit himself to it as easily as Esther could.

‘I think I may need some clarification on… long term.’ Bobby quickly sipped his whiskey, trying not to be nervous, he knew deep down there was no reason to be.

Esther smiled once again and took a breath. ‘Well, the ideal would be to give the impression that we’re together for the long term, that would require a small amount of commitment on both sides. I think the occasional dinner date would be a good start, eventually an escalation would include regular nightly visits to each other and beyond that is open for discussion. In terms of making it look convincing… physical contact would eventually be required, but for the near future there are other ways to give the illusion that would not make you as uncomfortable. Again, if you think you can follow through, then we can discuss details, set limits and boundaries and make sure we’re both okay with what we’re asking of each other.’

Bobby sat back in his chair. It was quite a lot to take in, he imagined inviting Esther to stay the night at his home may have presented a slight problem where his mother was concerned, but then again, she was very likeable.

Esther was patient and allowed him the room to think for a while. This was a big decision to make.

‘What, erm...’ Bobby cleared his throat. ‘The alternatives?’

He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of disappointment in her eyes, before she smiled softly.

‘The alternatives…’ she paused for a moment. ‘Well, if you’d like we can create the illusion of a purely physical relationship, I think simple nightly visits would suffice for that.’

Bobby nodded, thinking for a moment. ‘That doesn’t seem particularly stable as an alternative for the truth?’

‘I agree.’ Esther nodded briefly, still smiling softly. ‘But the decision is yours Bobby, whatever you decide, but I will warn you that I am looking for someone to go long term with, if you choose the second option and I find someone else, I will pull out of our agreement.’

‘Seems fair.’ Bobby hummed a brief chuckle, before taking another swig of whiskey. ‘Though should that day come, it does leave me rather exposed.’

‘I agree.’ Esther repeated.

Bobby once again remained quiet, the thought on what kind of life he wanted to lead and how this would afford him the opportunity to perhaps do just that. Esther just waited patiently, watching his every thought floating through his mind and not for a second did he feel exposed under her gaze.

‘I think we should discuss more depth on long term.’ He finally said and Esther’s brown eyes lit up. ‘I feel I may need more detailed guidance though.’

‘Of course, Bobby.’ She smiled widely and drank the rest of her whiskey. ‘We can cover as much or as little as you’d like tonight and anything else can be covered another time.’

Esther went to the kitchen to grab the whiskey bottle and refill her glass. She placed the bottle on the chess table within reach for the both of them.

‘Where shall we start?’ She asked. Bobby’s instinct was to throw the question back, but he did have a question that was coming to mind.

‘Erm… dinner?’ He wasn’t sure how to phrase the question. Esther sipped her whiskey smiling.

‘Have you ever been on a dinner date with a woman before?’ She asked, zero judgement in her tone.

‘No, unfortunately not. Well, none that have ever been particularly successful anyway. Will that be a prob-‘

‘Nothing is a problem, Bobby.’ She interrupted him. ‘I promise, there is no judgment for lack of experience, all that means is we will need to practice a little.’

‘Practice?’ He repeated, nervously.

‘Remember I told you the art of seduction lies in subtlety?’ She asked. Bobby nodded. ‘Next time you’re at dinner with a group of people, take a look around the restaurant, find a couple and observe how little they do to convince the people around them that they are in love. Sometimes the smallest graze of hands can appear forward.’

Bobby listened carefully, it ignited hope in him that if simply grazing her hand could be seen as an obvious sign that they’re together, then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

‘And you think that will be enough?’

‘If we do it right, it may even appear too much.’ She spoke with a playful glint in her dark eyes.

‘How?’

‘The more attention you give to me during conversation and the less you give to other people, creates the image that you’re entirely invested in what’s in front of you. People notice the things that people pay attention to. People recognise love for hobbies because it’s all that person can talk about, a relationship is no different.’

Esther continued to speak about the illusion she wanted to create and what Bobby’s part in that would be, he thought it incredibly simple, to the point he was convinced it may not work, but he promised he would do his homework and observe the next couple he saw at his upcoming business dinner. If she was right, he would concede and continue down her planned route.

They continued to discuss limits and boundaries and it became obvious that he was no where near ready to engage physically, not even a peck on the cheek or even hand holding, it all just seemed very uncomfortable to him, but he mentally noted that he may become comfortable with pushing that boundary in time. Esther’s focus seemed to be on mutual comfort more than it was on simply demanding what she wanted. He was grateful.

Bobby eventually left her apartment with a renewed confidence in their plan. Esther had even discussed the possibility of freeing up a few nights a month for them both to find what they were really looking for in other people. It wouldn’t be easy and she assured him that there would be an extended period of time where they would not be able to visit Jackson’s for any reason. It would be a difficult and delicate period, but as long as he followed in her lead, then she promised everything would be fine.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#bobby waterhouse #bobby waterhouse x ofc #bobby waterhouse x original character #bobby waterhouse x reader #paul ritter #paul ritter fic

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dashend6 · 2 years

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The Ultimate Resolution For World Of Warcraft Servers That You May Find Out About As We Speak

Funny sufficient, it shares a reputation (nearly) with WoW Insider's very own achievement searching column, The Overachiever. Money in WoW is a software -- it's pointless if you do not spend at the very least a bit of bit (or, in the case of at the moment's column, spend loads of it simply to prove you can). And there's a complete lot extra. Their members may not all the time like what they must say, but the ones who have been doing it for a long time are proper most of the time. What's the purpose of doing all of the work and going by means of the hassle of being a GL if you can't run the guild the way you suppose it must be? I used to be doing something to maintain my thoughts off the contractions, but he didn't abandon me to play WoW. Lots of GL's out there have a great deal of expertise beneath their belts, each from WoW and different on-line games. There are quite a lot of various kinds of guilds, from family guilds the place it's only a small group of mates and household who play together and use their time online to attach where they in any other case could not.

She says she still needs to group with me however each time we plan to do anything she tries to carry Zed so I find yourself leaving and she spends the rest of the night time with Zed. But if they don't seem to be, they should still produce other reasons to ignore the final goal of an RP server -- reasons which are actually past Blizzard's management. However some players do concentrate to Blizzard's description of an RP server -- even so, how can they perceive it if they are not already conversant in roleplaying? Not each VPN might be a favorite. A VPN service will nearly always increase your privateness by encrypting your on-line exercise. Provided that you simply fulfill the necessities acknowledged herein, Blizzard Entertainment will: (i) Upon the discharge of World of Warcraft Patch 4.3.Zero to the public EU World of Warcraft servers, add a Tyrael's Charger mount to your Account; (ii) upon the EU retail launch of Diablo III, add a normal version Diablo III retail license to your Account, where you could download a standard edition version of Diablo III that corresponds together with your country settings; and (iii) flag the Account in order that you'll routinely receive an invite to the beta check for the next World of Warcraft enlargement product.

I'm a civil engineer from the far country of Chile. Guilds are as a lot part of online gaming as the overuse of horrible web memes (Mr. Norris I'm taking a look at you, and your wonderful roundhouse kick), and people who play far too lengthy, and bathe too little. And tsaclub is removed from all it does! And while we originally reported that The9 could be turning over their software program, hardware, and staff to run the game, apparently that is not completely true. They are sometimes an ideal supply of fun, and can even result in life lengthy friendships exterior of the game, and that i personally think that the games I have played would have been lesser with out them. It is probably greatest to stick to utilizing TriviaBot in personal channels, and also you can even play it with your self, as you possibly can see within the screengrab to the left -- TriviaBot would not inform the quizmaster the answers to the questions.

How do you inform your personal officers that he isn't needed by nearly all of the guild or that he is not slicing it? Nobody questions whose guild it's. The flip side of the dictatorship coin (you understand, the one together with your august profile stamped on it) is that if you do not make good decisions, your guild will rapidly tank. This is an effective factor. It is a superb compromise: You're sharing each the ability and the tasks. They are often faraway from energy in the event that they break the nation's laws. Private messages. In-game mail might be counterfeited. Then we can concentrate on solutions. All the level 60s had the choice to vote by way of an internet form for officers and officers would then elect the GM. Some people will virtually always type cliques inside a guild (or guilds inside guilds in some circumstances), and other people, try as they could simply won't be accepted. It labored effectively for the populations on those game's servers, however World of Warcraft's hundreds of thousands could be an excessive amount of for that to work.

#TSA CLUB #wow private server club

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grimrester · 3 years

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Deltarune: Whose Choices Matter? (major spoilers for all routes)

I'm so extremely sure others have discussed this to death already, but I'm obsessed with the themes of "choice" in Deltarune. What's really stuck in my head are these three things:

1. At the start, you, the player, are told no one can choose who they are in this world and that your choices don't matter. The character you make gets thrown away.

2. Pretty much the second you're in the dark world, Ralsei starts telling Kris that their "choices are important too."

3. Toby has said many times that there is "only one ending" and, in one interview, that there's "something more important than reaching the end."

Lots of people have said that Toby was lying since there obviously are differences in both chapters depending on the choices you make. But I don't think that's true. Toby's the type to use clever wording to tell half-truths, but not straight up lie.

It's technically true that there's just one ending. No matter what the player does, the king still ends up in jail. Queen still stops her plan and joins you. Kris still opens up another dark foundation.

The changes in each playthrough are only indirectly the result of the player's actions. They are instead direct results of how the characters treat Kris and each other because of how you acted. Your actions don't matter and can't effect how the story plays out in and of themselves. But because all the key moments - the pillars, Ralsei revealing the story of the Roaring, etc - hinge on the characters' actions, their choices are the ones that matter and the ending is always more or less the same. This theme of choice and the effect of your actions on others is central to pretty much every "changeable" part of the story.

Let me provide some examples.

1. Minor Details

If you toss away the manual Ralsei gives you in chapter 1, he'll put a trashcan in Kris' room instead of a stand for the manual.

This is a really small, pretty insignificant detail. It doesn't affect the story. I personally never touched the manual again even though I kept it. If you toss it, Ralsei still gives Kris/the player tips on how to play. But Toby still programmed it in. He programmed Ralsei to notice you threw away something he worked on, and to treat you differently as a result. Maybe just as a joke, sure. But there's many other instances of characters remembering your actions and treating you accordingly.

Another example: If you step off one of the first electric wall switches before Noelle is done crossing to the other side to stand on the other button, she scolds you and then pulls the same prank on you. Kris looks hurt in response - because they're getting punished for something you did. It's a lot harder to brush this one off as just a joke when it ends with someone feeling hurt.

2. Kris' Dialogue

The player chooses a lot of dialogue for Kris. But sometimes Kris speaks on their own or chooses how they say what they're told by the player to say.

After the Spamton NEO fight, if you choose to tell Susie you're okay, Susie will think about how Kris is speaking hoarsely, and so she thinks Kris probably isn't okay. If you choose to say you're not okay, Ralsei says Kris is yelling. No matter what option you choose, Kris chooses to do their best to communicate that they are definitely not okay. It's Kris' choice here that matters and effects how the characters react, not yours.

3. Recruiting

Chapter 2 hammers in the idea that sparing enemies is important by introducing the recruiting mechanic. But recruiting doesn't seem to actually do much yet, aside from giving you some extra dialogue and dojo challenges.

At one point, there's some tutorial text from Ralsei that mentions how from now on, fighting an enemy instead of sparing it will make it unable to be recruited. Then it specifically mentions that there might be times where breaking bonds will make you stronger. There was something like this in chapter 1, too, where Ralsei seems to realize after fighting the king that the party can't always spare everyone.

This is in pretty stark contrast to Undertale, where the fight/spare mechanic basically meant choosing between life and death for any character. The character you're fighting doesn't get any say in the matter in Undertale. In Deltarune, you (or, more accurately, Kris) don't have the power to kill someone. You can only beat them up badly enough that they choose not to join you. At some point in the later chapters, making someone not want to join you might be a better decision.

4. Berdly

If you just focus on the Queen, Berdly tries to remove it himself, damaging his arm in the process. When he wakes up in the light world later, he still can't move his arm.

In the first battle with Queen, Berdly is attached to one of her plugs. You can loosen it to free him, like you did with the Werepires.

You didn't hurt Berdly. But if you choose to ignore him to focus on finishing the fight instead, his own actions in response cause him to be hurt anyway.

5. Snowgrave

Kris doesn't seem to have the ability to kill. Neither does Susie or Ralsei.

But Noelle does.

It's important to note that the player doesn't have complete control over anyone in the party except Kris. At the start of chapter 1, Susie makes her own choices in battle. Even in chapter 2, you can't take equipment off her unless you're swapping in something else (she tells you "Hands off!" if you try). The characters can just straight up refuse to follow your/Kris' orders if they want.

If you command Noelle to brute force puzzles, to "get" the ring, to ice all the Darkners, she gets used to hurting others to feel stronger. Then she can use Snowgrave - the only action that specifies it is lethal - in the fight with Berdly. When you tell Noelle to use Snowgrave, she refuses several times. She even tells you that she "doesn't know a spell called Snowgrave" to get you to stop. If you keep badgering her, she finally snaps, and chooses to cast it.

The wildest part about the Snowgrave route, in my opinion, is that there doesn't even seem to be any reward for doing it. In Undertale, the whole appeal of the No Mercy route was the epic boss fights that couldn't be played on any other route. The reward was the challenge. In Snowgrave, you skip almost half of the story and multiple boss fights. And for what? A slightly harder version of a boss you can also fight on any other run?

You can manipulate Noelle into making a terrible choice and presumably killing Berdly, seemingly just for the hell of it. After you return to the light world, the only things that change in the story are that Berdly doesn't wake up and Noelle is scared out of her mind if she sees you wearing her watch. Susie still walks you home. Toriel still asks Susie to stay over. Kris still slashes the tires on Toriel's car and opens a new foundation. Nothing major changes.

All Snowgrave seems to do is get you to the same ending faster.

Deltarune is about choices, sure. But more accurately, it's about how your choices affect the people around you, and how that informs their choices, and so on.

So, what's more important than reaching the end? It's how you - and the characters - chose to get there. It's about the journey, not the destination.

#deltarune spoilers #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune theory

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rosierin · 3 years

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Who survives? ○△□

=> Haikyuu edition

fandoms; haikyuu x squid game

warnings; violence, blood, mentions of puke, swearing, borderline panic attacks, death, PTSD, trauma

includes; many many many

a/n; aaaah tysm to those who liked/commented and/or reblogged part one! i really enjoyed reading your reactions and its so fun writing this series so im glad many of you like it! on that note, if you liked this part too, don't hesitate to do the same, i put a lotta work into these and it really means a lot!

<= previous, red light, green light

=> next, the purge

For the sake of this AU I'm pretending that the characters know nobody except those within their respective volleyball team.

DAY 2 : HONEYCOMB

Karasuno;

Player 001 (Daichi), eliminated.

His shape of choice; □

His voice is no longer as stern as it used to be, the weight of having lost not one, but three of his friends making him only half the man he used to be. He's a failure. A pathetic excuse for a leader with gaps in his abilities that he couldn't possibly hope to atone for. Especially in a game like this where all he can do is cheer them on uselessly, his voice shaking like the needle pinched tightly between his fingers. He's sweating profusely at the prospect of not only losing, but letting his teammates down twice in a row, but he's trying his darnest. Halfway into the game and he seems to be doing fine, his shape just a few more strokes from being carved out. He's elated to put it simply, glancing at his friends work to make sure they're doing fine.

Then it happens— a crack, and Daichi's heart drops to his stomach.

Player 002 (Suga), passed.

His shape of choice; □

Took the same path as Daichi, refusing to leave his side. They're both deeply scarred from the first game and sticking together is there only hope of staying sane. They're just thankful that they at least have each other. What Suga isn't thankful for, is the game that gives them zero opportunities to work together. It's an entirely solo game and it pains Suga that all he can do is hope the others make it through.

It's halfway down the clock when Suga decides to check on his friends, surprised when his underclassmen are already handing in their work. First it's the freak duo, then the girls, then Tsukishima and Yamaguchi until him and Daichi are the only one's on their former team left.

Luckily, Suga is almost done himself.

"You doing alright there, Cap?" He says lightheartedly, hoping the mention of his former title would lighten the mood. He glances at Daichi who offers a tiny smile in return.

"I'm already finished. Just waiting for you."

"Oh, really? You beat me to it?" Suga feigns a pout. Then, with a few more careful strokes, he eases the square-shaped snack from its mold. "Aha! I got it!" He beams, holding the honeycomb up to the light.

"Congrats," Daichi says. But he doesn't remove his hands from his tin. This doesn't go unnoticed by his friend.

"Well? Lemme see yours!" Suga prompts, but the moment Daichi lifts his hands from his honeycomb, Suga vehemently wishes he'd never asked.

"It's broken," he says plainly, eyes fixed on the cracked honeycomb. His heart is beating erratically in his ribcage and his head unwillingly begins to shake in a 'no' gesture at the realisation of what comes next. "Y-You can't show it to them. You can't or they'll—"

But it's already too late. Without a moment's haste, one of the henchmen walks up to Daichi at an eerily casual pace, his gun poised at his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Suga," he says, and for the first time, his facade is no longer upheld. In its place lies Daichi in his rawest form, all his supressed emotions spilling shamelessly down his cheeks in the form of relentless tears. At the sight, Sugawara can't help but do the same. "Please, help the others. You can all make it out alive, I trust you."

Daichi offers one last smile before the henchman pulls the trigger.

Suga doubles over, unable to stop from screaming.

Player 003 (Asahi).

Player 007 (Kiyoko), passed.

Her shape of choice; ⭐

Her heart is broken in regards to her friends untimely deaths. Not only was their passing— no, murder undisputably barbabic, but more importantly it just wasn't fair. Because what had the gentle giant, Asahi done to deserve this? Or the ever chipper Nishinoya? Or the sweet and lovely Tanaka... The memories of her friends ail her, but it gives her all the more reason to protect those who are still around. This is what she shall focus on, and this is what will motivate her to do her best and not give up. She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand and puts on her brave face, for what more could she possibly do to inspire her teammates?

Player 004 (Nishinoya).

Player 005 (Tanaka).

Player 006 (Yachi), passed.

Her shape of choice; ⭐

Immediately bursts into tears the second the rules were announced. This is it, she thought. This is where she dies; miserably while trying to carve out a star-shaped piece of toffee. Of course, Kiyoko notices her panicking in a heartbeat and offers her kind words of reassurance, saying so long as she proceeds carefully, then there's no reason for her to fail. Yachi tries her best to listen but her anxiety is still sky high. She starts off extremely slowly but eventually falls into a rhythm, her confidence slowly but surely coming back while Kiyoko makes light conversation with her in hopes of taking her mind off things. She reminds Yachi that it's just like holding a pencil and drifting it across a sheet of paper, and just like in design, she executes her work beautifully.

Player 011 (Tsukishima), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

It's crazy, really. Insane even. But despite the circumstances he's in, Tsukishima doesn't feel an ounce of fear. Is he completely out of his mind? Maybe. But to him, why bother fussing over matters that are totally out of his control? It's not like you need any particular skill to complete this game— sure, you'll need a steady hand or whatever, but whether or not the honeycomb breaks is totally out of your control. So, why worry? If you succeed, you succeed, if you don't, you don't. Is it how it is, or rather, it's just how the cookie crumbles, as they say.

How ironic.

Player 012 (Yamaguchi), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

It's pretty on brand for Yamaguchi, but he and Tsukishima are joint at the hip. Wherever Tsukki goes, Yamaguchi has decided to follow, and vice versa. However, he does start to regret his decision when he's presented with a star-shaped honeycomb and is ordered to carve it out, 'less you rather take a bullet to the head. He's as pale as a sheet and shaking like a leaf. He feels like he wants to vomit but contains the urge when his friend places his hand on his shoulder, telling him to stay calm. Easier said than done, Yamaguchi thinks. But rather than giving him a pep talk about not giving up, Tsukishima decides to simply demonstrate instead. Yamaguchi is in awe at how calm Tsukishima is able to stay and watches with utmost attention as the blonde begins scratching away at the sides of their self-assigned shape. Finally, after watching his friend work for a few more seconds, Yamaguchi decides to try it for himself and takes a couple deep breaths. Then, he's off to work.

Player 009 (Kageyama), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Chose the circle because it reminded him of a volleyball and was relieved once the rules were announced. Kageyama's good with his hands ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and he's able to measure the strength he puts into them very well, so he breezes through this game without even breaking a sweat. When he reveals his perfectly carved shape to the henchmen, he flashes Hinata a challenging smirk, only to huff when the former middle blocker sends one right back.

Player 010 (Hinata), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Chose the circle for the same reasons as Kageyama. He's nowhere near as dextrous as him but is really careful about his technique, dragging the needle in small, precise strokes until the the honeycomb's carved out into a nice and clean shape. He finishes it a few seconds after Kageyama and beams at him when the henchmen approve his work.

Aoba Johsai;

Player 008 (Oikawa), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

He's grieving beyond compare. Once the team had made it back to the lobby after the first game, Oikawa's first reflexe was to do a headcount, concerned when three people appeared to be missing. He turned to Iwaizumi, asking where Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Kindaichi were, but one look at his former vice captain's desolate face and Oikawa had his answer. His first reaction was denial, urging Iwaizumi to stop fooling around and tell him where they were, and this went on until Iwaizumi had to physically stop him before he would completely break down.

Ever since then, Oikawa's been eerily silent, merely responding in nods and hums. On the inside however, is a different story. He's a blazing inferno, an insatiable desire of revenge brewing stronger by the hour. He'll make sure to win this game, not for the money, not for him, but for those precious to him lost along the way, and make those who took them away from him, pay.

Player 013 (Iwaizumi), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

Feels the hairs rise on his body anytime his eyes land on Oikawa. He's never seen him so depressed, so quiet, so... Empty. It's like Oikawa isn't even there, as though he's nothing but a blank copy of himself. It drives Iwaizumi mad. He'd do anything to hear that whiny, high-pitched voice of his again, see that conniving grin on his face again, or the child-like wonder of his now dull and hollow-looking irises. Losing Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Kindaichi is one thing, and a fucking cruel one at that. But Iwaizumi doesn't know if he can afford losing his best friend, too.

To distract himself, he regularly goes to check up on his juniors, namely Kunimi, fearing the loss of his best friend would have put him in the same state of mind as Oikawa. Thank goodness he seems to be doing better than him, though knowing Kunimi it may simply be a front he's decided to put up to avoid appearing vulnerable. Iwaizumi can understand that mind set too, and commends him for it. However, Iwa still regularly asks him if he's okay, if he needs anything, someone to talk to. But whether that's for Kunimi's sake, or for Iwa's own comfort and distraction, even he doesn't know.

Player 014 (Matsukawa).

Player 015 (Hanakami).

Player 016 (Kunimi), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

Decides to stick close to his upperclassmen for this game since the enigmatic doors give him little to go off of. It's definitely a strange turn of events, having no captain to direct them in the right direction. Luckily, his vice captain seems to be holding the reigns, keeping everyone together, and although Kunimi doesn't say it aloud, he's thankful for his upperclassman's support.

He does hope his captain will return to them soon however— he doesn't know how long he can listen to the latter's sobs come night-time, or think about the loss of his friend before he eventually gives in himself.

Player 017 (Kindaichi).

Player 018 (Watari), eliminated.

His shape of choice; ⭐

Safe to say that the first round had shaken him up the most. He's still constantly thinking about the people he's lost, or how it's just a matter of time until his untimely death comes as well. And in his mind, it's pretty much set in stone the moment he finds out what this game ensues. He laughs a pitiful laugh at the realisation of the mistake he's just made, eyes glued on the star between his hands. It's like the thing's mocking him, and when he's the only one from his team left on the playground and a piece of his wafer breaks, he barely even has time to react— the bullet's already pierced his brain.

Player 019 (Kyoutani), passed.

His shape of choice; □

One would think the loss of his friends, added to his natural hot-blooded persona, that Kyoutani would fly into a fit of rage, become inpatient and flunk the second game. However, it's quite the opposite; if anything the loss of his teammates was a major eye-opener, a reminder that impulsiveness will cause nothing but his own demise. Not that the fire inside him still isn't burning. No— it's as ardent as ever, but it's tame, controlled and fuels him to move forward, pulling him through to the next round.

Player 020 (Yahaba), passed.

His shape of choice; □

He's gritting his teeth the entire game, repeating a mantra of "don't mess up, don't mess up, don't mess up" in his head, sometimes muttering it out loud. He can't afford to lose, Iwaizumi's always preached about how the the strongest team of players win, yet they've already lost three people— they can't lose anymore if they want to beat the other players and all make it out alive. How? Yahaba doesn't know for a batte royale hardly ever accepts more than one winner, but it's worth a shot. All he needs to do first, is make it past this second round.

Nekoma;

Player 021 (Kuroo), passed.

His shape of choice; □

Thinks it's best that his friends be divided into groups but seeing as they're an uneven number, Kuroo volunteers to go alone and they make a terrible group decision of leaving the triangle out. To put it simply, the amount of grief he feels once the rules were announced is unmeasurable. He apologises to Kai and Inuoka over and over again, his voice sullen and a hair away from breaking. Kai assures him that it's gonna be alright and that he and Inuoka will just take it easy so that they both make it through to the next game. Kuroo has the misfortune of believing them and once he exits the arena, he can't help the nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him he's made a grave mistake.

Player 022 (Kai), eliminated.

His shape of choice; ☂️

Can only offer a tight-lipped smile as his friend apologises profusely. He wants to forgive him, he really does— and he knows it's not his fault, but now he wishes he'd never listened to him to begin with. He sits with Inuoka as both of them begin precariously carving out their shape but deep down Kai already knows he's lost. He sees his friends exit the playground one by one until only Inuoka and him remain and the pressures on now that only a few minutes remain on the clock. He tells himself to calm down so that he can see this through, but he can fool himself into being as optimistic as he can, it's still just not enough. No amount of hope and determination will get him out of this one, and the broken umbrella handle that stares back at him only serves as a painful reminder.

A guard walks up to him, Kai braces himself.

He did the best he could.

Player 023 (Kenma), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

Kenma has extremely steady hands, if not the steadiest hands on his team so he doesn't feel all that stressed about this round. At least not for himself, because although he's confident that he'll ace the game, he has serious doubts about Kai and Inuoka. Anytime he'd glance at them he swore he could feel his chest ache. He sees just how panicked they are, can sense the fear coming off them as they hastily try and carve their shape out. He finishes his work quicker than most— he just wish he could say the same about his two friends.

Player 024 (Yaku), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Looks up to the sky as though thanking the heavens for being blessed with a relatively simple shape. Then he looks over at Kai and Inuoka and suddenly he feels a wave of guilt wash over him. He doesn't know what to do, or what to say to comfort them. After all, it's hard to do so with the constant presence of death looming over their heads. He squeezes his friends shoulders in a small attempt of reassurance before making his way over to Lev. He wishes there were some way he could help them but alas, he knows those thoughts are futile. He holds back the urge to cry.

Player 025 (Yamamoto), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

When he's paired up with Kenma he feels a shameful amount of relief at the prospect of having the team's mastermind on his side. Only, he doesn't seem to be much help here. It's a one-man-only game so all he can do is depend on himself. He looks at the shape like he's challenging it personally, unafraid and determined to ace this round. When he does, he can't help but feel surprised, surprised that he even managed to carve out the treacherous shape and heaves a sigh of relief, beaming as he exits the room.

Player 026 (Lev), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Is honestly thankful that he got paired with Yaku, because as much as he used to scare him, in these conditions he finds his strong will and perseverance extremely comforting. They sit together and although they don't speak, save for the occasional moments in which Yaku would ask if Lev was doing okay, the silence around them is comforting. Lev would flinch any time a gunshot went off, but Yaku was quick to distract him, telling Lev to focus on the task at hand, rather than fretting over the unlucky souls who wouldn't make it through to the next round. "You're not gonna be one of them," Yaku kept saying. And every time Lev would reply "you won't be either."

Player 027 (Inuoka), eliminated.

His shape of choice; ☂️

He forgives his captain for the unfortunate decision. After all, it's not as if Kuroo had specifically appointed him the umbrella. He smiles and tells him that he's gonna be okay, that it's no biggie— but it really is. In fact, he's lying through his teeth. Not only is it bad, it's a death sentence.

He's down to a one minute countdown when yet another bullet rings about the arena, reminding him that if he doesn't hurry up, he could be next. What he doesn't expect is to see his upperclassman falling limply to the floor, blood gushing from his head. Inuoka panics, a scream caught in his throat but unable to escape his lungs as he watches the life disappear from his friends eyes.

He doesn't even register that he'd knocked over his own honeycomb until one of the henchmen points his gun at him. This time, Inuoka does scream, before his body falls beside his teammates.

Fukurodani;

Player 028 (Bokuto), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

He can't even process the emotion he's feeling when the voice on the intercom announces the rules. He should be relieved that his shape is relatively simple, yet as he stares down at the circle moulded into his honeycomb, all he feels is emptiness. Perhaps if Akaashi were here, then he'd be able to smile and brag about how his instincts are on point for choosing the right shape. But as for right now, he doesn't even know if he feels like carving it out at all.

"I swear I didn't do anything! This man just took it from me and now he won't give it back! That's cheating!"

Bokuto looks up when the sound of yelling and footsteps approach him, only for his eyes to widen at the pink men flexing their guns at him. Had he done something wrong?

"Player 028, hand player 044 his Dalgona or you will be eliminated."

Reality comes and slaps him in the face at the realisation that someone must have framed him. He weakly shakes his head, but just as he opens his mouth to plead his case, a gun is firmly placed against his forehead, cold and threatening.

He gives the man his honeycomb. The man gives him his.

Bokuto's heart stops.

Player 029 (Akaashi).

Player 030 (Konoha).

Shiratorizawa;

Player 031 (Ushijima), eliminated.

His shape of choice; ○

He stares blankly at the sugary wafer, the nerves welling up inside him. On top of being left-handed, Ushijima's never had very steady hands. He takes in a deep breath as he starts to slowly carve around the shape, channelling every nerve in his body so that his hands don't shake. He doesn't even realize how fast time's flying by until he sees Tendou walk out the door, followed by Goshiki, then Shirabu, then Semi and suddenly he wishes he was them.

In his own haste to join them, Ushijima barely registers how hard he's pressing into the wafer, and only does he realize when;

Crack.

He looks down at the honeycomb and his eyes widen with horror. A tiny piece of the wafer has crumpled apart, and so does Ushijima's spirit.

His lips press into a thin line when his vision is obscured by a shadow. He dare'nt look up, knowing fully well that death looms over him, his overwhelming presence causing tears to form in Ushijima's eyes.

This is it, he thinks. Game over.

Player 032 (Tendou), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

Chose the shape souly by intuition. And he lets out an unabashed shriek of delight when the lady on the intercom announces the rules. He's grinning the entire way through the game, scratching his way to victory, throwing two peace signs up as he walks out the door.

Player 033 (Goshiki), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Chose whatever shape Ushijima chose. He just wanted to feel a little safer, knowing his most admired upperclassman was with him. What he didn't expect, however, was to be finish before him. He debates not showing the henchmen his carved-out shape just so he can wait for his senpai, but when they march over to him, demanding to see his honeycomb, he's forced to leave the playground. And so he does, albeit with a heavy heart, telling himself that, no matter what, his idol will pull through.

Player 034 (Shirabu), passed.

His shape of choice; □

Wasn't honestly all that fazed by this game. He found it significantly easier than the first, seeing as you didn't need to rely on your physical abilities, nor did you have to worry about spacial awareness. For this game it was just you, a needle and a cookie. Not to mention a shape that wasn't all that hard to carve out. He sends the henchmen a condescending sneer as he presents them his shape, scoffing as he pushes past them.

You haven't seen the last of me yet, he thinks. Better luck next time.

Player 035 (Semi), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Chose the opposite shape from Shirabu's but cringes once the rules have been announced. His is way easier to deal with, he notes.

Shaking his head, he decides not to get too caught up with the details. He's got a task at hand and there's no use in moping about it now. Running his tongue across his lips, Semi sets a careful but sufficiently fast pace, finishing barely a few seconds after Shirabu.

Inarizaki;

Player 036 (Kita), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

He made it through before the rest of his team, meticulous hands working swiftly and efficiently, but as he walks towards the exit he feels a spike of anxiety rise in his chest. He's not quite sure what may be the cause but he asks the henchmen if he can wait until the rest of his friends have finished. When he gets no reply, he frowns and looks over his shoulder. He can see the pain and worry in Aran eyes, the sheer concentration in the twins and the determination in Suna's but all he can think about is the nagging feeling in his chest, one that's insisting that he stay behind.

Silently, he wishes them good luck.

As he's escorted into the lobby, he sits down on the bed. Now, all he can do is pray.

Player 037 (Aran), eliminated.

His shape of choice; ☂️

He inhales sharply when Kita walks out the door, a strong sense of loneliness making him shake more than before. Pull yourself together, Aran, he tells himself. But how could he possibly do so? How could he possibly remain calm when he had the misfortune of picking out the trickiest shape in the game?

He's midway through carving out the thin curve of the umbrella when it snaps and it's like his whole world just crumbles. He shakes his head, disbelief and fear blurring his vision. He looks up at the henchman, pleading pathetically, grovelling at his feet but it all goes unnoticed. Aran gets shot, an apology dying weakly on his tongue.

Player 038 (Atsumu) & Player 039 (Osamu), passed.

Their shape of choice; ⭐

Osamu told Atsumu to look away the second the man in pink cocked his gun at their former teammate.

The sound echoes eerily through the playground and Atsumu's state of mind deteriorates the longer they press on.

"T-They s-shot Aran... They shot him... Aran, they," the words die on his tongue as Atsumu struggles to form a coherent sentence. It's clear he's freaking out, so Osamu grabs his brothers wrists before any damage can be made, holding them in place, away from the honeycomb.

"Put yer tin down if yer gonna freak out. You'll break it." Lowering his hands, Osamu holds them firmly, a way of grounding his brother who looks two hairs away from a heart attack.

"But 'Samu they—"

"Look at the clock." Tearing his gaze from Aran's dead body, Atsumu does as his brother says, noticing the timer that reveals only a 2 minute countdown. "We don't have long left so ya need to focus. Ya promise me you'll focus?"

Atsumu takes in a sharp breath as he holds Osamu's unwavering gaze, sensing the care, but also the deep desperation painted on his features.

He nods feebly, and Osamu can stop pretending that he too isn't shaking as he lets go of his twin's hands.

"Good. Last one to finish is a rotten onigiri."

Player 040 (Suna), passed.

His shape of choice; □

He doesn't say it out loud, but he's eternally thankful for the twins company. It's a reminder of sorts that he's not alone in this mess, like charms that somehow keep him in touch with home. Their usual banter is what helps him remain level-headed, even though the sight of his friends corpse makes him want to puke.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the task at hand, deft hands pulling him successfully through to the next round.

Date Tech;

Player 041 (Aone), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

When Aone plays this game, he's in full concentration mode. The instant he settles down to start carving out the shape, it's like he's in his own personal bubble and all of a sudden he can't see anyone else, he can't hear anyone else— it's just him and the sugary wafer. He's surprisingly delicate despite his big and strong hands and manages to pass the game by keeping it very very slow, finishing just a few seconds before the timer runs out.

Player 042 (Futakuchi), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

He may have looked out for Kogane in the previous round but as for the second game, it's every man for themselves. He keeps to himself for the most part, concentrating purely on his work and his personal victory. However that doesn't mean he won't sneak a glance or two at his underclassman's work, just to make sure he's keeping up.

He finishes a few minutes before Kogane and Aone and would've liked to stay a little longer to keep observing, however with the guards nagging him to move onto the next round, he couldn't pursue that endeavour so he leaves the room with somewhat of a heavy heart.

Player 043 (Koganegawa), passed.

His shape of choice; 🔺

It's a miracle he passed, really. And God forbid he'd have chosen any other shape 'cause otherwise it'd be game over. He likes to think of himself as someone with steady hands, however given the huge amount of pressure he's under, it's hard to keep them from shaking. Needs to pull away from his work every so often to catch his breath and proceeds with utmost caution. He finishes around the same time as Aone, just before the timer runs out.

Miscellaneous;

Player 044 (Suguru), passed.

His shape of choice; ☂️

Is absolutely mortified. No, this can't be happening. He was so dead-set on getting home. He can't let it end here. His eyes scan the room, looking for some way to get out of this mess. Then, as they land on a man sitting in the corner of the room, an idea comes to mind.

He makes it across the playground to sit beside the man— the latter doesn't look up from the tin clutched in his hands. However, Suguru can just make out the circle engraved the stranger's honeycomb.

Bingo.

Suguru stands up. It's time to put on a show.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?! Give me back my honeycomb! Hey, are you even listening to me?!"

The men in pink immediately march in, flexing their guns at both of the men.

"I didn't do anything, I swear!" says Suguru, frantically pacing from the armed men, to the man sat in the corner. "This man just took it from me and now he won't give it back! That's cheating!"

That's when the loner finally looks up from his cookie, his golden eyes obscured by a mess of salt and pepper hair. He can barely open his mouth before the henchmen intervene.

"Player 028, hand player 044 his Dalgona or you will be eliminated."

Suguru's blood is pounding in his ears as the henchmen point their gun towards the innocent man. He looks up at him with a mix of hurt, confusion and betrayal but hands him his honeycomb regardless.

Suguru snatches it from his hands and holds it to his chest before handing over his own. He doesn't miss the way the man's golden eyes flash with fear the moment they take in the umbrella carved into his newly acquired Dalgona.

Suguru inhales shakily.

At least it's not him.

Player 045 (Terushima), passed.

His shape of choice; ⭐

Threw his head back in despair at the realisation of just how badly he'd fucked up. Out of all the shapes, why did he have to go for the star?

He asks the henchmen if he can switch with someone and when they offer not a word in response, he sighs. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

He slaps his face to hype himself up, rolling his shoulders as he gets into a more suitable position. His tongue is poking out his mouth the entire time he's carving out the shape, concentrating to the fullest. And when he's finally done, he grins broadly to himself and brandishes his work. Then, it's onto the next round.

Player 046 (Sakusa), passed.

His shape of choice; ○

Hides his face behind his collared jersey to avoid breathing in the stale smell of blood and sweat. Luckily this game is as straightforward as the last one, and a solo one at that, which is honestly what he feels the most at ease with in these circumstances. This isn't like volleyball when you can afford to make a mistake— no. Here, one tiny mishap would cost him his life, and he isn't about to die while trying to carve out a stupid shape in some children's snack. That, he makes sure of.

Player 047 (Hoshiumi).

164 notes · View notes

everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐓. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

PAIRINGS: Haikyuu boys x fem! reader

GENRE: angst, pining, teasing, spicy level at 1?

A/N: i am hooked, captivated, jealous, and many more emotions🤨 this was honestly a little random but no complaints

⟡𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔's offhanded comments on an essay he didn't participate in was a bloodbath waiting to happen. Though you understood that he was in a tight schedule regarding practice and matches was a tough schedule to keep up with, the expression on his face when he sees the score ignites the rage that was kept tight when you stayed up just to pinch in to replace their mistakes and their unwillingness to cooperate that had you pulled out of calmness.

"Wipe that shit expression off of you, Miya. Maybe if you were there we could've done better but no." You huffed, while there's a chuckle from the blonde as he takes the paper from your hands, a punch to your efforts, while he waves it around before towering over you with eyes glancing to your lips before it goes straight to your eyes before he spoke,

"If you wanted the best, then I'm all yours to take."

⟡𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 would go overboard majority of their practice so at those moments—you never know what to do seeing that you weren't on good terms anyway. He'd be too focused and frustrated to be communicated with while Hinata's drive to progress himself always mixes with the setters competitiveness then it leads to late practices making you stay until they finally leave.

"You two— c'mon I have to lock up. Get going already." Hinata smiles at you softly sharing his intents to stay a little longer while you shook your head. He gave out a defeated sigh while you walked to the storage room to make sure everything was placed to where it was but when you expected silence, it never came. The sound of heavy impacting echoes through the gym while you rolled your eyes to walk out and see the setter all alone.

"Kageyama, go home." You were down to the remaining ounce of energy you had left. You could only roll your eyes as you held the ball he was meant to hold as he blinks at you.

"I'm not gonna say it again. Let's go home already." He turns the other way around whispering, "Just one more." making you hold onto his wrist as he turns to you surprised but held a glare in secret. "Stop being so stubborn." Kageyama scoffs before holding onto your hand on his wrist, a slight tug while you leaned forward because of his actions.

"And stop trying to make me go home with you." You pushed him slightly with raised eyebrows, a fluster in your cheeks as you tried to pull away.

"Idiot- that's not what I mean!" You argued while his hand remained on yours as you both stared each other down. "It's not like I meant it that way either." Tobio said before letting go of your arm, walking away with his own heated cheeks while grabbing his bag and ending the day with one more glance to you.

"I'm going now, if you're going to come with me—then I'll see which of the choices you did mean."

⟡ 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 doesn't like the way your personality mirrored his twin. A duplicate of another duplicate. He saw how well you and the blonde had bonded and brought a migraine to his head, realizing that the annoyance he gets from his twin has doubled when it came to you but he does deny that there's an ounce of envy seeing that you were never that close to him and always favored Atsumu.

And now that you were in their residence, the laughter from you and the setter ticks him off as if he was a thirdwheeler in every situation—god, even in their house.

"Oi, do you mind? I think my controller is in Samu's room can you get it for me?" Atsumu asks while you shrugged before knocking over to Osamu's door. You figured that he didn't like you as much and you kept your distance but at times, you can definitely feel that the distance that had grown to a state that even you were confused in how it got that far.

You casually enter in, glancing at Osamu who was only busy on his phone but shares a stare to you when you wander around.

"What're ye looking for?" He asks, while you responded saying it was the controller. He stands up with a groan, noticing how messy the other side of the room was as you began to pick up a few shirts while Osamu cocks an eyebrow.

"Ain't no touching that, I'll clean it myself." He suggests but you continued nonetheless thinking that this may reduce whatever tension was there. Right at the moment where you reached for the jersey at the stairs of their bunk bed, Osamu had grabbed your wrist making you wide eyed before looking at him.

"I said I can do it." He says in which you followed with, "I just wanted to help you and Tsumu." He rolls his eyes but the proximity of you two is alarming especially when his hand was still wrapped around yours.

"Atsumu this, Atsumu that—can't you worry about me?" He jokes at first but there's warmth to your cheeks alike to his own, but he leans forward, a smirk to his lips. "Only you?" You asked before he spoke again,

"Only me and no one else, doll."

⟡𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀's bad start during mornings never get along with your rants along with Iwaizumi to help maintain the health of MSBY. Whenever Iwaizumi would be off to observe a different team, you'd be the subsitute. All of the things he's said to them—you'll be there to remind them all over again. In which repetitiveness irks him knowing they've been told before.

"We've been through the same routine. Today's not any special." Kiyoomi suggests, though you get how irritating it can be to act like a broken record—you knew Iwaizumi would do the same thing you were doing.

"And if we go through it like every other day, then we'll finish fast." You argued as Atsumu sends you a chuckle before leaning on his teammate.

"Not with all that yapping." Sakusa whispers making you scoff while Hinata and Bokuto share a worried glance.

"You've got something to say to me, Kiyoomi?" You asked, edging him on because you weren't entirely at fault. You were strictly just following Iwaizumi's orders.

The MSBY player then takes a few steps forward before lowering his mask and with a threat of a stare to look down on you.

"Why don't we stop talking and I'll show you a better routine?"

Atsumu rolls his eyes but rather entertained at the vanter unfolding in front of the entire team.

"Like you'll ever find a way to shut me up." You bragged but there's a chuckle from him before he leans forward—a close vicinity where his lips linger on your ears as a cold voice welcomes you.

"I'd like to see you try and stop me then."

⟡𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 is the person that throws distanced glares when it came to you. Ever since the aggravating Atsumu teased you two as a perfect couple that he quickly declined followed by an unnecessary sentence saying you were impossible to date. You understood that you were never friends to even label it but since you were with the twins, you and Rintaro never hit it off the way you did with the Miyas'.

So even as you sat a few seats away from at the local bus, it irks you that this banter goes on even outside school. Looking away, there's a hand to your waist making you glare instantly at the man beside you while he only gives an appalling glance to your attire that made your blood boil as you struggled to move away from him.

"Get the fuck off me." You ordered him but he acts nonchalant. The moment you were about to raise a hand to show some defense, another hand travels to your waist while the previous hand around you was removed.

Gasping you turned to Suna who radiated a heated energy while the man scoffs knowing it was a facade to act like you were together.

"Hey now—if you don't believe she's my girl, then why don't you watch?" Rintaro threats as his lips lingered around your neck while you stood frozen. The destructive and taunting stare he gave to the man caused the bastard to move away not long before Suna had the chance to push him to the other side, cocking a smirk while he pulls you to his body.

"Thank you." You said, while he only shrugs in response, still cautious of the jealousy that lingers the mans eye.

"Seems like you'll be mine for the rest of the night."

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clambuoyance · 3 years

Text

Deltarune Ch 3 Theory (Spoilers!)

This will be sort of a ramble, and I’ll do my best to include screenshots, but this is my personal theory and thoughts on what’s happening and where Ch 3 is headed. Most of this stuff has probably been said by others, so this is mostly for me to come back to!

1. Kris

So there are a lot of moments that seems to hint to Kris’ homelife and I’ll just sort of go through them here.

When you look through the room Queen trapped you in, there’s a calendar with a vacation date circled from a search query about when college has summer break. Given how close Asriel and Kris seem to be, I’m pretty sure Kris is really anxious to see Asriel and have his support back.

Because Toriel and Asgore seem to have divorced fairly recently? Or at the very least, I think it’s still definitely taking a toll on Kris, and Asriel leaving does NOT help at all. It makes me wonder if there’s more to him leaving for college.

There’s another curious thing where if you decide to look through Asriel’s room, Kris shuts their eyes and seems to not want to see what’s inside, despite what the Player might want. Why? Afraid of what they’ll see? What could Asriel possibly be searching for that Kris would be afraid of the truth?

I think some incident happened in the past, one that’s related to the Dreemurr and the Holiday family growing apart, Noelle’s sister “Dess”, and Asgore apparently being removed from the police force. (If maybe he was powerless or cowardly to do something, this could have led to a divorce and Asriel leaving? I’m not sure, but I think Dess has died or its related tot he incident, and Asriel seemed close with them too so I’m sure it was also hard on him.)

(i didnt take a screenshot of the newsclipping with this info but ill put it here later lol)

Circling back to Kris, there’s several details that hint to Kris’ mindset, and basically, I think Kris doesn’t want to grow up because when you grow up you grow apart and don’t live out fun fantasies anymore. Maybe.

If you go to the flyer in the librarby, and read the one about the ICE-E event that says “Where teens can still be Kids!” Kris is relieved, for some reason. Probably because they’re glad to hear they still technically count as a kid.

Not directly related but if you go up to the upperright room and read the book about humans, Kris quickly shuts it. Given the similarities and hints to Chara from Undertale, it seems like Kris wanted to get away from other humans or humanity in general. Which also aligns maybe with Kris being fearful of the bunker. I really don’t know what to make it past this though. Crack theory was that the world of Undertale was just a Dark World Kris made as a kid or something. Or that when “Chara” fell, it was a fall similar to how Kris and Susie fall when entering a Dark World. Lmao probably unrelated though.

2. Dark Worlds and Escapism

The Dark Worlds seem to function as some sort of escapism, and it’s interesting that they’re all based on real life things. In Chapter 1, the Dark World was based on the classrooms various toys like checkers, chess, cards, dolls,etc. In Chapter 2, it seems even more so with Noelle. Queen actually wants the best for Noelle and is very nosy and always chasing after her, in contrast to Noelle’s real mom who is always busy being a mayor. After all, Queen does know how sad Noelle’s search history probably is. (Mainly from this post!)

(screenshots to be added lol)

Kris probably feels the same way, as both Noelle and Kris grew up together and seem to be suffering from dysfunctional families or some sort of drama.

And Queen directly says in the boss fight with Berdly that the internet and the screens provide comfort for many people, and she is well-intentioned in wanting to help make people happy. Maybe for Kris it’s video games or roleplaying or toys or silly things, kind of like how many people in the real world do similar things. I wonder if the next chapters will each focus on a different character and other forms of escapism or storytelling.

3. The Knight

So at the end of Chapter 2, Kris rips out the Player Soul and slashes the tires to Toriel’s car. Then later Susie talks about how cool it would be if they could bring Ralsei and Lancer and everyone to their world and hang out with them. Then Kris takes the Player out once again and pulls out a knife, fills the “Blade” with their “Will”, aka Determination, and creates a new dark fountain that encompasses their whole home (and maybe even the whole town).

(screenshot laterrrr)

It seems that the tires were to ensure Toriel stays inside the house though, so maybe it’s just the house. If that’s the case, and Kris really is the knight, I think Kris wants to envision a better home where things are better. Escapism right inside your own home.

If it’s the whole town, then maybe Kris already had Susie’s idea and really is going to take everyone in a new Dark World so everyone can be together. That or Susie inadvertently gave Kris the idea..it makes me wonder if we’ll see Toriel in her outfit from Undertale, or something like that. The other reason I could see it being a town-wide thing is because now Kris has the knowledge of the Roaring (thanks to Ralsei). I’m not too sure what their stance would be, but maybe they see a benefit to it?

After creating a fountain, a smile flashes on the tv, so I think the next chapter will be television based and feature a tv villain (though it does look like flowey...). Again, i wonder if each chapter will be some form of escape for some people. or maybe it’ll be a different theme.

Also, I just want to add that I really don’t see Kris as malicious or doing thing for a sinister reason. Or maybe it’s still fucked up and selfish, but not the evil people imagine. If you do the snowgrave route, Noelle doesn’t even recognize it as Kris’ voice. The sinister voice in that route seems to be the Player rather, being cruel and making Noelle make these traumatizing choices. Which is why I wonder if Kris is the Knight, or if it’s a red herring. Not sure.

4. ANYWAYS

There’s a lot to unpack. Too much to unpack, like there’s a whole thing I could say about Big Shot and Jevil and Gaster. The way maybe Kris also knows the world is just a game (maybe thats why they hate humans?? were just like go puppet go lol). But i have no idea so this was just focused on Kris mostly, and Maybe i’ll talk more but I finished the game a few hours ago and I just had to get these thoughts out even if others probably already figured it out or think its obvious. It’s just really cool! Again, most of this comes from this theory, cus i havent looked much at others (YET) since i just finished today. Anyways, FUN GAME!

If anyone has useful screenshots or whatever please feel free to add lol

#long post #oops #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #undertale #kris dreemurr #deltarune theory #sort of not really just me rambling

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

554 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

part iii

cw: brief, non-graphic mention of injury and medical assistance

September

Only blue talk and love

Remember

How we knew love was here to stay

Summer hadn’t truly felt over until Remus saw Regulus standing in the airport, bags checked for New York and backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Well,” Regulus said, shifting a little between his feet. “Here goes.”

Remus laughed. “It’s going to be amazing, Reg.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.”

“It will,” Sirius said. “But if you need anything we’re…what? A four hour drive?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, you can call.”

Regulus huffed out a laugh. “You two sound like worried parents.”

Sirius laughed, too. “I’m just glad we know what those sound like now.”

Regulus’ expression shifted, tightening. He nodded, seemed to hang in hesitation for a moment, and then walked forward two steps and threw his arms around Sirius. Sirius froze, too, with his hands in his pockets, and then wrapped his little brother up tight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Remus heard Regulus murmur softly. “I don’t really think you left me there. With them.”

Sirius made an indistinguishable sound, and Remus took a step back, giving them space and not sure if he was fighting tears or a smile. He used to just think about how he could kill Sirius and Regulus’ parents if he had the chance, but now, seeing how far the brothers had come, he wasn’t sure they were worth the time at all.

“Come home sometimes, okay?” Sirius said. “D’accord?”

“Ouais,” Regulus said.

They pulled apart slowly, both a little bright-eyed. Sirius laughed wetly, wiping his face.

“And make good friends.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s supposed to be good choices.”

Sirius reached out for Remus’ hand. “Good friends are good choices.”

“Ah,” Regulus hitched his pack farther up his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Call when you get there, too,” Remus cut in. “My mom would definitely want me to say that.”

Regulus waved them off. “Okay, that’s enough parenting. I’m going now.”

Sirius held Remus’ hand tight as they watched Regulus go through security and then disappear with a wave, sliding his headphones on. He let out a long, unsteady breath.

“Merde.”

“Love ya,” Remus smiled, reaching up to wipe a tear from Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius glanced down at him. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He is,” Remus nodded.

“He forgives me.”

“No,” Remus said. “He told you that you never did anything wrong.”

Sirius let out another tearful laugh, sniffing. “Right. You’re right.”

Remus pushed up on his toes to kiss his cheek. “Wanna get dinner?”

“Ouais. That sounds perfect.”

They wandered the summer soft streets, cooled by the evening and by approaching September. Remus was torn between being ready to let summer go, and never wanting it to end at the same time.

It’s good to hear a packed Hogwarts Stadium again, huh, Dean? Even if just for a preseason game against our New York Rangers neighbors.

Right, Lee? I love this post-summer feeling, and I know our Lions do, too. Especially excited to see what our new talent has to offer. This’ll be fan’s first glimpse at Lupin and Reyes, our two…well, I suppose rookie wouldn’t be quite as perfect a word for Lupin as it is for Reyes. We’re used to Lupin’s face around here, huh.

That we are. Not used to seeing what is rumored to be some very quick feet on him, though. As far as testing went, that is.

Right, the bike test. As well as strength. Who knows. This could be building up to a very interesting season.

Remus stared up at the TV mounted on the wall as he peddled slowly on the stationary bike, keeping his legs warm. He felt bizarre, and had been dodging any type of media to avoid having to talk about it. He was dreading post-game. Every time he tried to think of something to say, his mind went blank.

I’m happy to be here.

I never thought I would be here.

The other half of his brain was trying to compute that it wouldn’t just be the preseason, practice scrimmages he was used to. It wouldn’t just been his team, his friends, out there. Not that it would be a full fledged game, either. No one looked to crushing blows during a preseason game. It was about getting warm. Remus was thankful for it. He didn’t know how he was going to feel when he put his jersey on. When he stepped out onto the ice. He had been nervous enough for the fitness testing.

“You’re literally the fastest guy here,” Finn had said after he’d gotten off of the bike—with the highest score. It had made him feel better, but he knew he wouldn’t really be settled until until coach called his name from the line card.

“Loops,” Logan said, swinging onto the bike beside him. “I keep running into you.”

Remus smiled. “Looks like we having similar warm-up routines.”

“Apparemment,” Logan nodded, turning up the resistance. “Nervous?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Logan nodded, but stayed quiet and Remus was thankful. Everyone tried to talk him out of it, Sirius included, and he loved them for that, but at the same time, this was nice, too.

“Me too, sort of,” Logan said, and they traded a smile before looking back up at the Gryffindor pre-game show.

“All right,” Coach Arthur Weasley clapped his hands and gestured to the side of the room where the assistant coaches and staff were standing. The whole locker room was flooded with energy of all kinds—nervous, excited—and it flowed through those not in uniform, too. “We all know Moody. We all know our coaches. Mason, Alexandra, and Dan. We all know our PTs—should I say new PTs—“ there were some laughs. “Lars and Layla.”

“Double-Ls,” Thomas whooped.

Layla gave two thumbs up, and Lars remained stoic, arms crossed. He hadn’t said much since arriving aside from the occasional wise-cracking joke delivered without a trace of a smile.

“Who’s captain serious now, eh?” Thomas leaned in to whisper, and Remus suppressed a smile, glancing at Sirius—who was wearing an almost equally focused expression on his face, completely still where he sat a few stalls down, past Thomas and James. Remus glanced around the locker room, down the crescent-shaped row. Kasey and Leo, on opposite ends, were both geared up. Finn and Leo were sharing AirPods. Remus knew Kasey had worked hard over the summer, rehabbing his thigh, strengthening and increasing flexibility. He knew Leo was happy to be his back-up, but part of him wondered what Leo thought about all the games he had played in the play-offs, only to be placed right back on the bench now. It happened to a lot of guys—some were called up for injury, only to be sent right back down to the farm team when injuries healed. But Remus thought it was different for goalies. He hoped Coach wouldn’t leave Leo sitting on the bench for too long.

“Who’s calling first line?” Coach asked, and held the card out to Sirius. “Cap?”

Remus didn’t realize until the cheers broke out that he could be loud with the rest of them, and gave his stall a few bangs as Sirius rose, hat keeping his hair back. His eyes found Remus’ briefly once had turned towards them with the card, and Remus’ breath caught at his beaming grin.

“Okay, boys, first line,” Sirius said. “We’ve got Pots.”

Clap.

“Tremzy.”

Thomas drum-rolled his stall.

Sirius smiled. “Myself.”

Finn put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“And on D, Olli and Timmy.”

While the boys burst into chatter again, Remus watched Sirius hand the card back to Coach, and caught his eye again, raising an eyebrow. Sirius held up Thomas’ number, and Jackson’s. Remus nodded to himself. That could be the third or fourth line, and he’d played well with both of them in scrimmages. It made sense. He could work with that.

And it meant he’d get to watch Sirius out there. At least that wouldn’t change.

“All right,” Coach laughed, putting his glasses back on and turning towards the other coaches. “Get dressed, get dressed.”

Remus had sat in his stall quite a few times by now. For his promo-pictures at the beginning of the summer—the first time he had slipped his jersey on, too, right over his suit and tie. But sitting in it now, strapping his pads over his bare chest before a game, a game where he would be up against other NHL players…that was different.

“You’re one of those?” Thomas snorted, flicking Remus’ bare ribs. “Doesn’t the velcro scratch?”

Remus laughed. “Can’t break old habits.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Or is now the perfect time to make new ones.”

“Not after a year like the last,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Thomas whistled, yanking the laces of his skates tight. “You’re that superstitious.”

“I try not to be,” Remus stood. “But playing again…seems to bring it out in me.”

Remus turned to step into his pants, adjusting the pads and his jock until everything fit together comfortably. He eyed his jersey, the number six hanging proudly on a hanger, and he smiled to himself but turned to his skates next. The jersey sent his heart leaping into his throat. He’d save it for last.

“Let’s go boys,” Pascal called, standing by the door to bump fists and pat helmets on their way out.

Remus laced up his skates, pulling them tight over his taped up socks, and then, finally, removed his jersey from its hook. He didn’t waste time staring down at it. That would just make him overthink and, hopefully, he’d have many times to put this jersey on again.

It slid over his shoulder pads, he tucked in the back, and grabbed his helmet.

“I like that Loops is just over there grinning to himself,” Finn snorted as he left for the tunnel.

Remus shrugged, eyes finding Sirius. He already looked like his mind was on the ice, even for such a low stakes game.

“You know,” Remus said as the team started to file down the tunnel. “I used to go last.”

Sirius’ intense eyes lightened into a softer gray. He shifted from one skate to another. “Oh? I don’t know if I knew that.”

Remus tilted his head, smile playing at one corner of his mouth. “Well? What are we gonna do?”

Sirius just stared at him. “I… I go last.”

Remus let out his laughter, leaning up to tap their helmets together. He vaguely heard a camera flash go off, and smiled. He wanted that picture.

“You should have seen your face, baby,” he whispered, and grabbed his stick from the rack before catching up to James.

He heard Sirius splutter out a laugh—and there was definitely some relief in there—and follow.

The sounds of the crowd in Hogwarts stadium only grew louder. Remus could feel Sirius close behind him.

“Ready, mon loup?” he asked quietly, just before the tunnel opened up to the lights.

Remus didn’t know if Sirius heard his yes over the roar of the team’s entry into a sea of red and gold, but then feet were on the ice he was doing a lap, the Rangers at the other end.

On opening night, Remus knew he would be taking this lap alone, along with Cole. A rookie’s first official NHL game. It felt surreal to think about. He couldn’t knock the feeling that he was too old for that—but he knew plenty of guys did it at his age. You didn’t have to be eighteen.

He picked up a puck and headed towards the goal, trying to decide if it would help to block out the noise, or let it overtake him. The boys were dialed in. Remus glanced over at Sirius, feeling strangely bare without him by his side. But he was over by center ice, tracing the Lion printed there—as usual. Remus didn’t want to seem favored. He didn’t want to seem clingy. They weren’t a couple out here, he knew that. They were teammates.

He shot at Kasey, who caught his puck in his glove, and began the wrap-around again before pushing backwards around the outside of the goal, as he always used to. He’d done his routine a few times at the beginning of practices, but it was nothing compared to being surrounded by a crowd—a bigger crowd than he’d ever actually played in front of before.

Kasey tapped a puck at him once he reached his first post, and he laughed, shooting it back until a sign waving at the glass caught his eye. It was held by a kid, maybe around Julian’s age.

I want a signed stick the ReMOST, Lupin!

Remus laughed at the kid’s wide eyes when he saw that he was looking, and gave him a thumbs up the best he could with his gloves on before holding up his stick.

“One second,” he called over the crowd.

When he got to the bench, Sirius was there stretching, holding out an already uncapped sharpie.

And looks like Lupin’s heading over to sign that young man a stick. I bet that’s a good feeling after—oh! Black’s got a pen ready for him.

Remus shoved a glove under his arm and took it. “You saw the sign?”

“I got the kid down to the glass,” Sirius grinned.

“I love you,” Remus said as he scribbled his signature, complete with the jersey number that players always included.

It took two tries to get the stick successfully over the glass, but for the look on the boy’s face, Remus would have tried twenty.

“Feels good, eh?” James said once the horn blew for warmups and they were settled onto the bench.

“Too good,” Remus said.

“First line,” Coach called, slapping his calling card against his palm. “12, 10, 7, let’s go. Olli, Tims, on D.”

Sirius sent him a quick smile, and Remus spun his stick in front of him. “Let’s go, Captain.”

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the boards towards center ice, where Zibanejad was waiting.

Good to see that sort of…what would you call it, Dean, from Black?

Light energy, I think, Lee. Sirius is well known around the league for his intensity.

Right. Nice to see Lupin getting a smile out of him before what is most probably a season that holds more pressure than usual for the Lions, after a Cup year.

One of Black’s coaches once said in an interview that the only thing Sirius feels after scoring a goal is pressure to score another. Ha, sounds about right.

Remus all but held his breath when the ref dropped the puck. Sirius stole it back for James who nicked it over to Logan. Logan sped it into the neutral zone, narrowly avoiding Lafrenière.

“Bulky kid,” Finn said from beside Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Logan?”

“Well—yeah, but nah, Lafrenière,” Finn nodded. “Built like a tree, what is he, nineteen? Crazy. I didn’t look like that when I was nineteen.”

“Well,” Remus said as the whistle blew for an icing on the Rangers. “People are comparing him to Crosby.”

“Kuny,” Coach called. “Lupin, Nado.”

Remus’ initial thought was surprise. The shock of being put out with the second line carried him somewhat numbly over the boards beside Evgeni and Jackson. He didn’t have time to look at Sirius take his place on the bench.

“Hey,” Evgeni said, drawing them in with a glove over his mouth so the Rangers filing out of their bench couldn’t read their lips. “I take Lindgren. Loops, go fast, okay? Nado get you puck.”

“Fox,” Jackson warned.

“Sergei take care,” Evgeni said like it was obvious, and loomed towards the face-off circle.

“Left side,” Remus said to Jackson before they parted. “I’ll try to shake Kravtsov.”

“Nice,” Jackson nodded.

Remus and Kravtsov shared a nod as they lined up shoulder to shoulder on the centerline.

“Welcome to the NHL,” Kravtsov said with a slight smile.

“Thanks,” Remus replied.

Kravtsov was so young. All of these guys were so young.

He couldn’t help feeling like time had been stolen from him.

Have you ever seen this many Russian players in one NHL game, Dean? Pretty nice to see. And here’s Lupin’s first shift. Let’s go.

The puck dropped and Remus gave Kravtsov a shove, spinning out and around him. His heart seemed to press the sound out of his ears until all he could hear was his own breathing. Evgeni won the face off.

“Kuns!” Jackson shouted, and Evgeni passed it to him deep in their own zone. It drew Fox forward, just as Remus knew it was meant to, but Sergei was there for Jackson to derail the puck. Fox was forced to turn around, Kravtsov was made to press forward for a pass, and it left Remus free to shoot into their defense zone. Strome tried to cross him, but Remus spun around him. Sergei and Jackson tried to get it to him, but it left the zone. Remus swore as he pushed hard to touch up the neutral zone.

“6, 58, 86, off, Reyes, O’Hara, LeBlanc, on!”

Remus pulled back to the bench, sending Cole a nod as he hopped over the boards for his first NHL shift. Remus’ shift had been thirty seconds that felt like ten, but he was breathing hard. Finn followed Cole with a tap to his back, promptly stole the puck from Chytil, and slapped it into the corner of the Rangers’ goal.

Remus had barely taken a drink of water when the goal horn blared Gryffindor’s roar filled Hogwarts Stadium.

He punched Sirius’ side, who had his arms raised. Sirius laughed from beside him as they settled onto the bench beside each other.

“Ouch,” Sirius rubbed his padding.

“I don’t know, I got excited,” Remus laughed.

They held his gloves out for Finn to tap as he came down the line, the goal song blaring, the crowd chanting along to the catchy drumbeat.

“Nice solo, Harz,” Remus called, and Finn grinned.

“Thanks, Rookie.”

It remained pretty even through the first and second. Panarin had three good chances, the fourth sailing past Kasey’s glove. Sirius scored a dirty wrap-around just before the second’s buzzer, and Remus didn’t think he’d ever like anything more than getting the full force of Sirius’ smile as he tapped gloves down the bench line. No sooner had the final face-off of the period set up than were Evgeni and Lindgren going at it, hands gripping the back of each other’s jerseys as they dropped their gloves. Gryffindor would start the third one man up.

Remus filed back down the tunnel towards the locker room, smiling at Layla as he dropped his gloves in the bucket she was holding to be dried. He felt warm, his muscles used and a little sore. He longed for an ice bath, but he wanted to use them more too. It was the most familiar feeling in the word. He smiled against it as he sat down in his stall, laughing lightly at the way Evgeni threw a wet towel over his head.

“Not skate enough over the summer,” Evgeni groaned.

Remus looked up when a shadow fell over him and was greeted by two hands on his cheeks and a warm, familiar kiss.

“J’adore,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, holding his wrists where his pulse still high from the game.

“Nice goal.”

“Good to be back,” James said as he pushed his jersey over his head. “Crowd sounds amazing. How you doing, Reyes?”

Cole looked up from where he was re-taping his socks. “The crowd is amazing.”

Remus felt a slap on the back from Evgeni, towel around his neck now. “Good shift, rookie.”

“Kuns,” Remus sighed, and Evgeni just laughed teasingly.

Remus felt Sirius’ eyes on him throughout the entire intermission. He knew he was curious, and had been for months, about Remus’ game routine. He’d asked and asked over the summer, but that was the thing with Remus’ superstitions—he couldn’t talk about them.

Remus took two fresh sticks from his rack and sat back down. He began wrapping it steadily.

“Of course your tape job is perfect,” Thomas sighed, shaking his head. “Of course, of course.”

Remus laughed, ripping the tape with his teeth.

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson grinned, giving his stick a twirl, the tape warped and hurried.

Remus snorted. “All I see is a fucking candy cane.”

Power play. Lindgren went into the box, slamming the door a little too hard on his way.

“Black,” Coach called as the crowd shuffled into their seats, armed with food, and Remus had been expecting that. “Tremzy, Lupin, Fox, Sunny.”

Remus blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Remus hopped the boards beside Sirius, and the stadium seemed to get louder. Sirius knocked their shoulders together, and Remus didn’t doubt the cameras were on them and he tried to control his expression. He didn’t want to look too pleased, or too dopy at the feeling of skating side by side with Sirius in front of a crowd.

I think this is the moment many of us have been waiting for, Dean.

You bet! I didn’t expect it to come so soon. Coach Weasley is trying out lots of different line combos tonight. What’s pre-season for? I hear Lupin’s played on the power play a few times in practice.

Sirius put his glove up by his mouth, holding his mouth guard.

“Try the double pass?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Sirius bent down across from Zibanejad and the rest of the Rangers penalty kill unit.

It happened fast. Remus was used to seeing this from the bench—but maybe that was a good thing. He saw the ice as if through a wide lens, Sirius passed to Logan, and then it was on Remus’ stick to carry up. Remus blew out a breath, pushing his legs hard ahead of Panarin. He needed to get ahead, needed to stay parallel with Sirius. He felt Panarin scrape at his heels, but then Sirius was calling his name.

Shesterkin was still up and on his feet, reading to dive whichever way.

“Loup,” Sirius called, and it was as though it was only the two of them in the basement rink. Only the crowd was different, and absolutely roaring.

Remus snapped the puck to Sirius, who passed it right back. Shesterkin went down when Remus pulled his stick back in a fake, only for him to give it back to Sirius to tap into wide open net.

Remus’ hands shot up, and the crowd screamed. Sirius all but slammed into him, wrapping him up tight against the boards.

“Re,” Sirius laughed through he words, pressing their helmets together. “Mon loup, mon loup—”

Logan crashed into them next, followed by Adam and Henrik. Remus found himself in the center of elated shouts, the fans pounding hands on the glass from the other side.

“Merde, it sounds like the playoffs,” Logan shouted, pressing a hand to Remus’ helmet.

Remus could only laugh, giddy, high on it all.

What a goal! Well, Lee, I don’t think we’re going to have to wait long to see this young man’s first regular season point.

“He fell for it,” Remus said for the tenth time as he handed Sirius the last of their dinner dishes. “Shesterkin fell for it.”

Sirius laughed and slid the dishes into the sink and turned, placing slightly damp hands on Remus’ cheeks.

“You are amazing,” he said, accent heavy and laced with a need that Remus had felt stirring in himself since getting off the ice. They’d been on the ice together today. They’d built a goal together, scored. Igor Shesterkin had fallen for their fake-out.

“I was so happy today,” Sirius whispered.

Remus closed his eyes, caught between the feeling of Sirius’ body colliding with his own in celebration, and the feeling of his warm hands here, now.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Remus said softly, and opened his eyes, hands against Sirius’ chest.

What a terrifying, wonderful sentence.

Sirius just leaned in to kiss him, mouth tender and insistent. It was the same fire he had on the ice, leading Remus in a way that made his insides warm and his toes curl. Remus let Sirius guide him slowly up the stairs, and he relished in the way they stopped on the landing, on a half-way stair, just to be closer again, Remus’ mouth on his neck, Sirius’ against his temple. The hallway was dark, lit only by the nightlight they kept plugged in near their feet. It cast Sirius in warm angles as Remus tugged his shirt off and dropped it right there in the hallway.

“I’m not saying I’m not going to miss Regulus,” Remus said as Sirius bent to mouth gently against his neck. “But I’m not saying I’m not going to enjoy being able to undress you wherever I want now that we have the house to ourselves.”

Sirius’ laugh was soft, a little breathless. “Name your room, I’ll be there.”

Remus laughed, too. “Bedroom. Nice, soft bed.”

Sirius walked Remus backwards through the door, hands on his hips. “How do you feel? That was quite the race with Kreider in the second.”

“Good,” Remus nodded, but let Sirius’ strong hands dig into the muscles of his shoulders and back. He sighed into it, resting his cheek against his chest. “But I won’t say no to that.”

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and worked his shirt over his head. He lay him down on the mattress and Remus closed his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ lips against his neck, and then his shoulder.

Sirius kissed over the scar that Greyback had torn from Remus’ body all those years ago at their shared college, keeping Remus from a career in the NHL—at least until now.

“I wonder what he thinks,” Remus wondered aloud, and he didn’t have to explain himself for Sirius to know what he meant. Remus wound his fingers into Sirius dark hair as he looked up at him.

“Me too,” Sirius admitted. “And then I see red and have to stop thinking about it.”

Remus half-smiled. “Yeah…I felt bad at lunch those few weeks ago. With Cole. I really think he thought he said something wrong, and I wish I could explain but it’s still…it’s still like this weird secret, you know? Like people could find out if they really looked but no one has? And I don’t really want to bring it up but at the same time I know Fenrir has already spread lies. Saying it was a car crash or…who knows what. Sorry.” Remus pressed a hand to his face. “God, I’m completely killing the mood.”

“Re, hey,” Sirius pushed himself up onto his forearm, falling to the side and keeping their legs tangled.

“And it’s such a good mood, I just was thinking aloud.”

“You’re not. Talk to me. You can talk to me whenever.”

Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip. “Okay…yeah, I know that.”

“This was a big day,” Sirius said. “Huge for you. Of course you would be thinking about him. I used to think about my parents every time I stepped on the ice, even after things were getting better. I think…I think its just time. It takes time.”

“It was strange today,” Remus finally admitted. “I couldn’t…I didn’t know how close to you I could be. Out there, I mean. I’m your boyfriend, you’re mine, but we’re also teammates. There’s so much debate, about my place on the team and if you did something to get me there…I don’t know. I don’t want someone to accuse you of favoritism. You don’t deserve that.”

“We’re both,” Sirius said. “We’ll always be both. You’ll always be the boy I love. You’ll always be my teammate.” Sirius shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we’re on the ice or not. And I don’t care if someone thinks I favor you. We both know I don’t. Not like that.”

Remus made a soft sound and pulled Sirius further on top of him, making him smile. “Love you.”

Sirius let Remus press slow kisses to his lips. “This mood feels pretty good to me.”

Remus just hushed him, tucking a hand into his waistband.

Sirius kissed him until Remus’ cheeks were hot and his cock was aching, pressed up against his sweatpants. Remus could still hear the Lions’ crowd rushing in his ears. Sirius’ palm cupped him and pushed his sweatpants down. They were both flushed and pink. Remus wanted to see those colors together.

He pulled Sirius’ hips against his own, discarding clothing until it was all bare skin. Remus ran his hands over the hard curves of his back. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, hooking his arms beneath Sirius’, holding onto his shoulders.

Their mouths found each other messily, dragging and half open in gasps.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, voice higher than usual.

The adrenaline that Remus had thought had faded with the game only seemed to thrum brighter. Remus couldn’t help the smile the crossed his face, brows drawn together at the feeling of Sirius rutting against him.

Remus pressed his ankle gently to the back of Sirius’ knee and rolled them, drawing breathless laughs from both their mouths that he sealed away to keep like a love letter. It was soft mouths and hard hands, clutching each other closer, getting the most out of the warm friction. Remus swallowed Sirius’ gasps. His orgasm built up below his spine and Sirius seemed to read his mind. He reached between them with a hand, brushing a thumb at his base, pressing up. Remus’ hips stuttered and he fell apart, shoving hard against Sirius’ tight fist.

Sirius followed at the hot streak of Remus’ come between them, and they lay there, panting, foreheads together. Remus eased their hips back together, both of them letting out a soft moan, then a laugh, as the spent cocks brushed, drawing out the last tendrils of their orgasms.

“That feels good,” Sirius mumbled, head sunken back against the pillows.

Remus rolled his hips slowly, bringing them down, and then pulled his head up. He pushed Sirius’ sweaty hair back from his cheek and kissed it.

“Communicate to score,” Sirius mumbled.

Remus laughed hard, squeezing his eyes shut, and dropped his face into his neck to catch his breath.

“It’s true,” Sirius said, running a warm palm up and down Remus’ back. “That article we looked at.”

They’d given in and read some press over dinner, laughing at some of the more excitable writers, and grinning at each other at the more serious ones.

Magnetism, one wrote. Feels like we’ve got some mind-readers on this team, a real Crosby-Malkin, Kane-Toews one-two-punch.

“Well,” Remus said, folding his arms across Sirius’ chest. “What am I thinking now?”

Sirius pressed his lips together, pretending to think. “Is it…how to get out of golf with James and the Cubs before the ring ceremony on Tuesday?”

Remus snorted. “Well, that’s definitely on my list. But nope.” He leaned in, brushing their mouths together. “That’s not it.”

Sirius grinned, and Remus sunk into how thick and sated his accent sounded. “Is it…will my handsome boyfriend please run me a bath and make me tea?”

Remus laughed into their next kiss. “Wow, that writer was right.”

It looks…maybe like a twisted knee? What do you think, Dean? Walker is definitely not making a move to get up—oh, there’s the medic. One of the Lions’ new staff members as, of course, someone had to take Lupin’s place. Ah, Walker is pointing to his foot now.

Man, is that a grimace if I ever saw one.

It sure is, Dean.

Here comes O’Hara to help out his teammate.

They were in Madison Square Garden, the Rangers giving them one hell of a re-match. Logan skated a close perimeter towards where Thomas had gone down, just between a line change.

“Shit,” Finn skated to a stop beside him. “It’s fucking pre-season. Did you see what happened?”

Logan shook his head. “Not really. Think it was just a bad fall. Strome looks sorry.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re not jumping him right now.”

Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I have no interest in jumping Strome, thanks.” His eyes found Leo on the bench. With his hat flipped backwards, the intensity, the worry in of his blue eyes cut a clear path to Thomas.

“T,” Finn said, skating closer. “Need a hand to the room?”

Thomas winced as he made it to one knee. “Yeah, man, thanks.”

Thomas stared up at the dark ceiling from the padded PT table, listening to the game continue on the TV mounted to the corner of the ceiling. There was the X-ray pushed to the corner, his results pinned up on the light screen. Fracture. Minor, but it’d take weeks to heal. He’d miss the beginning of the season. He’d be in a suit when they lifted the Stanley Cup champion banner in the stadium. He missed Noelle.

The light flicked on so suddenly Thomas flinched.

“Walker,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was accented—Swedish, he thought. Thomas squinted at the speaker. He was tall, and dressed in the staff jacket he’d come to associate with Remus. Right. Lars.

“I…hey,” Thomas said. His eyes went to Layla, who gave a wave as she slipped in behind the man. “Hey, man, Lars, right?”

Lars gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. So, you probably know the drill by now. Couple weeks. Aspirin will be fine for pain management.”

“Right,” Thomas nodded.

“We’ve got a boot for you here, but I’d take everything to a doctor, just for a second opinion. I’ll recommend someone,” he shrugged. “That was an unlucky hit. I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked. He didn’t know someone could seem sweetly uninterested. He smiled hesitantly. “Thanks.”

Thomas snapped a picture of the boot once he strapped it on and sent it out complete with a frowning emoji.

He had just opened the door to the locker room, accompanied by his new crutches and to meet his victorious team, when his phone began to ring with a Facetime.

“T,” Noelle’s voice gasped. She was beautiful, her hair curling around her face. “Baby, I saw.”

“It’s not too bad,” Thomas said beneath the noise as the locker room filled up. “You look like you’re about to go somewhere, I can call back, I just wanted to…”

I’m just sad about it. It sounded lame in his own ears.

He cleared his throat. “Logan, say hi to your sister.”

Logan poked his head into the frame and stuck his tongue out, then left.

“Lolo!” Noelle shouted for the locker room to hear, and Logan groaned.

“Lolo,” Kasey imitated, grinning, and Logan shoved his mask down over his face.

“How is it?” Finn asked, wrapping an arm around him. “Hi, Noelle.”

“Fractured. Couple weeks.”

“Damn,” Finn sighed. “Sorry, T. That was an—”

“unlucky hit,” Thomas laughed. “Preach.”

“Hey, baby, we’re all heading to grab some food, but call you tonight?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He tried not to feel lonely as the screen went dark. He was in a room surrounded by people. People he loved.

It crept in anyway.

273 notes · View notes

inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

Text

Melody of Revenge

Word Count: 2.4k Description: Everyone knows not to mess with Lucifer Morningstar. Some, however, make the mistake of going after his family instead. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Lucifer was next, and this ended up getting really long, so uh ... yeah. Can be found on AO3 here. content warning: torture, so much torture, blood, body horror/mutilation

Fear and intimidation. Lucifer knew how to use both effectively, striking terror into any and all who looked upon him. The Avatar of Pride rarely had to remind others of just who he was, but every now and then, someone decided to step out of line. It couldn’t be helped -- imbeciles could be found wherever beating hearts or souls resided.

Tonight, however, he was dealing with a very particular kind of imbecile. One that had crossed a line so gravely that he had planned an entire torture routine in his mind as he made his way through the halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Flames of anger licked his insides as he made his way to the dungeons, but he had to keep his rage under control. Lucifer always had to be in control, every action and word deliberate and planned. He didn’t have a choice to be anything less.

“Barbatos.” He greeted the loyal butler and friend, who stood at the entrance of a particular hall of cells.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” The usual polite smile alighted his lips, though a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to handle this one?”

“Absolutely.” He responds firmly, immediately. Barbatos usually had the pleasure of torturing those who crossed the Devildom, and he took great delight in it -- far more than even Lucifer would. After all, Lucifer found torture and punishment as a means to an end, a form of discipline.

Barbatos simply did it for fun.

“Then by all means,” the royal servant bowed slightly, gesturing with one arm towards the dark hall. “She’s all yours.” With that, he left the dungeons, having a great many other tasks to attend to for the day -- though couldn’t help leaving with a melodic, “Have fun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s lips. Oh, he planned to make this a very enjoyable time indeed. Taking a deep breath -- making sure that he was in control -- he dropped his glamour to reveal more of his demon form and walked forward to unlock one of the metal cell doors. It creaked open, allowing for the sounds of muffled screams to leave the dark room.

“Hello, Abyzou.”

The protests suddenly stopped, a chill seeming to settle in the air. Lucifer slowly lit the torches along the dungeon’s walls, bathing the room in a hellish orange light. There, in the middle of the cell, sat the traitor, bound and gagged. Her serpentine eyes looked up at Lucifer with a mix of fear and anger, but she otherwise remained silent and still.

“What’s wrong? Suddenly decided it was a good time to be quiet?” His voice is calm. Too calm. He eases his long coat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a hook by the door. Gloved hands begin to roll up his sleeves as he turns to look at the other demon again, a sigh leaving him. He stepped forward, and with a yank removed the gag from her mouth. “Is that better?”

Abyzou coughed, spitting to the side as she flexed her jaw after it being bound for so long. He allowed her to adjust -- he was a demon of patience, after all.

“Lucifer … “ She begins with his name, spoken with a certain kind of reverence. “I didn’t realize you would be visiting me here.”

“You didn’t?” The surprise in his voice is almost genuine. “Strange, I figured you would have been expecting me any day now, considering the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look upon the greater demon. There was a hint of shame in her expression, but it gave way to a twisted smile as she shook her head. “I see . . .”

“Do you?” He speaks sharply, his hatred for her beginning to show. He grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you see, Abyzou? Or are you still trying to play innocent?”

She hissed as his fingertips pressed into her skin, the red leather of his gloves saving her from the wrath of his claws -- for now. She stared into those magnetic ruby eyes and all the power they held, all of the destruction they could unleash, all of the pain they could bring.

“But was I wrong?” Abyzou knew her end was imminent, especially if the Avatar of Pride himself had requested to punish her personally. So what was the use in being anything but honest? “Was I truly wrong, Lord Lucifer?” The reverence once held in her voice was gone, replaced with mockery. She shifted in her bonds, leaning into the hand that held her jaw. “You know that the Devildom is stronger and better than the other realms, and yet we’re forced to grovel to the likes of angels!” Stretching out her neck, she continued with a jeer. “Or do you and your brothers miss having those white wings and halos for yourselves that much?”

Lucifer roughly pushed her face away from him, hand releasing her jaw. He took a step back, eyes full of cold fury still focused on the other demon. His gaze then swept the cell, taking note of the various torture instruments on display -- but grinned when he saw that Barbatos made sure to include the absolute essential. A vinyl player, the perfect record already in place to set the mood. He set it up to play, allowing the first notes to spill into the air before resuming his interrogation.

“So, you thought yourself better than the others who had agreed to His Royal Highness’ vision?” Lucifer begins to tug at the seam of one of his gloves, steadily peeling it off his hand. “Of course, we knew that plenty of the nobles had their concerns, and many voiced them, yourself included.” He sets the removed glove to the side, now beginning to take off the other. “And yet, you still decided that you would try and work against us behind the scenes,” The second glove joins its pair. “And, what I’m really trying to understand -- truly, I am -- is why you thought it would be a good idea to try and undermine the Seven Lords?”

Abyzou shifted in place, her earlier burst of bravado dwindling, and goosebumps rose along her skin as she listened to the music he decided to play. It was common knowledge to never get on Lucifer’s bad side, but she had taken the risk -- and now she would be answering for it. She lowered her head, staring at the cold stone floor, suddenly finding the way the orange light from the flames bounced and shimmered of great interest. “I . . . “ She started, trying to choose her next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you or your brothers. I was doing what I thought would be best … including for you all! Can’t you see that I was trying to protect you, protect us?”

A piercing, incredulous laugh left Lucifer’s lips, his deep voice sending chills down Abyzou’s spine. He picked up the spool of twisted rope and approached her once more, the steady clack clack from his shoes’ heels echoing throughout the cell, mingling with the slowly increasing crescendo.

“Aby, Aby, Aby . . .” Lucifer clicked his tongue before he roughly collected a fistful of her long raven locks, eliciting a sharp cry as her head was wrenched back to look up at him. “That was your first mistake.”

The Avatar of Pride was nothing short of an expert when it came to stringing others up from the ceiling, though in this particular case, he wanted to make sure it hurt. The imprisoned demon thrashed and squirmed, but he was able to lift and tie her up with ease, making sure that the rough jute cut into her scaly skin just short of making her bleed -- for now. He tied the rope up to her waist, then put each wrist in a metal clasp that was chained to the floor, stretching out her arms to either side.

“You thought you needed to protect us? A sweet gesture,” He derided her, a claw coming up to slowly trace from her chin down through her cheek, drawing blood as it broke skin. “And an absolute lie. Your little act had every intention to put my brothers at risk, in harm’s way … “ A second claw followed the first, creating a ribbon of shredded skin. Abyzou hissed at the pain, biting back anything else in an effort to save some sense of dignity. “ … and you had the audacity to think you’d get away with it. Truly incredible.” The faux amazement in his tone felt like thorns in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look into his face.

“What’s the matter, Abyzou? Shouldn’t you be used to being in this kind of position, or at least … something not too far from it?” Lucifer smirked, delighted to see her eyes shoot back open, bright yellow irises staring at him in disbelief. “If I remember correctly … Solomon had you tied up in front of his temple, and by your hair, at that.”

That riled her up. Forked tongue lashed out to flick at his face, a series of curses leaving her lips soon after. Fangs bared, she hissed, “Don’t you dare bring up that bastard! To think that I wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on him the moment he stepped into our realm. He deserves to have his neck twisted, but you … !”

“But I . . ?” Lucifer took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, nonchalantly wiping away at where her tongue and spit landed on his visage. “Please, do go on.”

“You … you, all of you, let him in with open arms! Even after knowing everything he’s done, how he’s treated our own kind! I don’t care if you say he’s changed, HE NEEDS TO BE TORN LIMB FROM LIMB!” She screamed, thrashing about in her binds, chains rattling as she struggled.

“Temper, temper, Aby.” Oh, that sadistic, pointed grin. A wave of euphoria washed over him, seeing her like this. “You have no room to talk, considering what you’ve done.” He watched as the blood from her face dropped and dripped to the floor, a hum leaving his lips.

“Perhaps you need some more reminding of just how badly you fucked up this time.” He raised a hand, chanting a curse that caused a swirl of glowing energy to encircle both of her hands. It weaved through her clenched fists, forcing them open, and wrapped like binding around each finger. She cried out in pain as she felt the magical binding began to gradually crush her fingers, cutting off circulation knuckle by knuckle.

“You tried to have some of my brothers poisoned,” All five claws of one hand pierced the skin of her upper arm, retracted, pierced again a bit lower, and repeated -- gradually making way down her entire arm. More and more blood began to drip, the usual greenish hue of her scaly skin now awash in dark red. “You tried to gather enough support to attack them, because you were too much of a coward to come face any of us yourself. Though, it’s laughable that you thought you could do damage to us in the first place.”

“I … I’m sorry!” She knew any apologies here were useless, but the pain that she now felt at every point in her body was becoming too agonizing to ignore. “I felt like I was left with no choice!” She felt her vision get hazy, the smell of her blood and the sharp strikes of pain -- from the rope, from his claws, from the curse -- overwhelming her senses. And that damned music, it was driving her insane.

“No choice?” Lucifer scoffed, his claws now repeating the treatment on her other arm. “Abyzou, you did have a choice.” His brows furrowed, wings stretching out as he brought his face close to her upside-down one. “You just chose the wrong one.”

Tears stung her eyes, the magic binding on her hands crushing her fingers until there would be nothing left. She could hear her blood drip in puddles on the floor, and yet the bleeding wasn’t enough for her life to end anytime soon.

“Please … please, Lord Lucifer … just finish me already.” She begged, though deep down she knew her cries for mercy would be futile.

Lucifer’s usual stoic expression settled on his features. He watched her for a moment, then turned around and walked to the table by the door where he had laid his gloves. A cloth was folded neatly next to them, which he took to wipe the blood off of his hands, murmuring a spell to help fully rid his skin of any that remained. Then, he pulled his gloves back on, tugging on the seams to make sure that they were on properly, fingers flexing in the red leather.

“I’m sure that’s what you would like, Abyzou.” His voice is eerily low, his back still turned to the demoness. She could hear him setting something up, but was unable to make out what it was.

Then he started humming, a haunting sound added to the sharp strings and bellowing percussion.

He dragged the table closer to her suspended body, stepping aside to show what was left on it.

She nearly choked. There, next to the record player, was another similar device -- but this one wasn’t for playing.

“However, I have no intention of giving you a quick end. You’ll remain here, like this, until every last drop of blood leaves your body, and your hands are thoroughly crushed, and those ropes cut through you. But, you won’t be completely alone.”

He gingerly raises the needle, setting it onto the record at the correct position. Resuming his humming, he hit the Record button, and the disc began to spin, the needle etching everything it heard into the vinyl. “We’ll have a lovely keepsake to remember you by. Ah, and don’t worry … this is all using magic, so it will document everything up until your last breath.”

Abyzou tried to thrash about with what strength she had left, but in the end only caused herself pain, the chains shackled to her wrists ringing and clanging.

“Farewell, Abyzou.”

With that, Lucifer left the cell, the large metal door shutting to a close behind him. He made his way back through the dungeon halls, a smirk on his lips as he heard a loud, wailing shriek in the distance.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me fics #obey me swd #demons being demons #writings #series: a demon's nature #yeah this gets pretty descriptive in parts so!! be warned #also feel free to listen to heart of darkness by succession studios with this -- or also lucifer's waltz or queen of the damned #can you tell who my favorite is lmao #decided to post directly to this blog now #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos

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koocycle · 3 years

Text

play thing | drabble series (iii)

pairing. basketball player!jungkook x female reader

summary. jungkook is aware of the fact that you’re not his to love, yet he’s determined to show you what you’re missing out on.

wc. 2435

warnings. mild explicit language, suggestive themes.

taglist. if you’d like to be added, please send me an ask!

previous / next

“Do you think he would notice if we’d fuck here?”

The question is ridiculous yet amusing to the ear, but you’re still having a hard time finding it in yourself to laugh at the remarkable query. And that’s most likely because Jungkook’s voice falls heavy in the shell of your ear even as you attempt to ignore him the best you can. Yet the act seems harder than usual when his pretty fingertips start gazing over your clothed waist, softly nipping at the flimsy material of your tight shirt in between his pleasing, tattooed fingers.

“He would.” So I wouldn’t try anything if I were you, is what you mean to add, yet the words don’t manage to slip any further than your charming lips that seem sealed shut as soon as you look at him in the eyes.

‘‘Do you think he would care?’’

This one seems to shut you up soon enough – you’re not entirely sure if the answer to that will suit your fight against the man behind you, and the jerk knows that. Because you don’t even have to look at him to see the grin that’s growing on his pretty features.

It’s taking you one more look upon the living room of which is connected to the rather chilly kitchen you’re finding yourself in before you can come up with a decent answer. The silence hurts your ears, but you have no other choice than to stay quiet by his side. Both you and Jungkook know the situation you’re finding yourself in, lying won’t do you any justice.

Your boyfriend’s dyed, blonde locks are astounding and vibrant alongside his fellow teammates on the sofa. They’re yelling at something that happens in the game playing in front of their noses, multiple chaotic arms pointing at the big screen and already loud voices which are only increasing in volume. And you can only guess there’s no good coming out of it.

“Of course he’d care.” You carry on your act, and you’re not entirely sure if it is you or Jungkook you’re attempting to convince here, but it doesn’t seem to work either way, “He is my boyfriend, after all.”

All the lights in Minho’s apartment are turned off, the only ounce of lighting available being the one coming from the big screen in the living area. And that might as well be for the best, considering Jungkook’s sneering eyes that are boring holes in the side of your face right now. He doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, certainly not when your lips grow into a content, irritatingly smug grin. You probably think you’re the shit now.

“Are you sure about that?” He questions, the fingers that were previously playing with the fabric of your shirt tightening in the heat of his palm as for right now. He can’t keep his hands to himself today, but it seems like you don’t really mind the way today’s play is going.

“So if I do this,” both his hands position themselves down your waist, finding their place on your hips before he slams his chest against your back, “he would come running to punch me in the face right now?”

When his head dips into the crook of your neck, a gasp is leaving your lips and it’s only feeding onto his ego, especially when he can feel you freeze under his fingertips. His lips are only inches removed from the skin on the side of your throat, yet his hot breath spreading down its place is taking an enormous toll on you.

His fingers tighten around both of your hipbones, head dipping even further down your neck to place a wet peck on the spot, a gasp leaving you once a pair of dampened lips make contact with you skin.

‘‘He’d kick me out of his shitty dorm?’’ He stupidly laughs in the crook of your neck, the vibrations against you being anything but sly, but you doubt he even worries about something silly like that. ‘‘Don’t fool yourself, ___. He isn’t even looking.’’

His index fingers that were wrapped around your hips just earlier make a move to tilt your chin up, yet the action doesn’t seem to revolve around him – no, he’s making you look up at Minho. And even though the feeling of his fingertips isn’t overbearing underneath your chin, merely being there for moral support, you don’t make a move to pull your gaze away from your boyfriend.

‘‘Do you think he would care?’’

You don’t need Jungkook to constantly remind you that Minho doesn’t give more than 2 fucks about you, because you’re able to do that yourself just perfectly fine. But what gives him the right to talk about your relationship like that? As if his opinion is relevant to you even the slightest way – he’s ridiculous.

‘‘Cut it out, Jungkook.’’ You snarl in between your gritted teeth, the sweet tone from before completely disappearing as you feel yourself heating up now.

‘‘Or what? Are you going to tell him?’’ His lips are making movements that send shivers down your spine, and you have to refrain your head from falling down to rest on his shoulder, ‘‘I think you’re enjoying this far too much to be putting this to a stop, no?’’

‘‘You’re nothing special.’’ You say, but your body language proves him otherwise. The heavy weight of your head is betraying you, the way you fall limp in his embrace proving his every word to be correct.

He pays no attention to your previous statement, not feeling the need to prove you wrong when both of you already know the deal, ‘‘Tell me why you’re here today.’’ He says instead, voice lower than before.

‘‘Did you invite yourself over because you wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend,’’ flat hands slide down over your clothed belly, large palms reaching lower to the place you desperately need him, ‘‘or because you knew I’d be here?”

You stop him before he can get too far, your own hands clutching own just as desperately. ‘‘Me being here has nothing to do with you.’’

The lie is obvious and perhaps a little lacking in itself, the eager tone in your voice merely being there to overpower him. The attempt was there, but the execution could have been worked on.

His fingers are playing with the belt loops of your jeans, solely hooking his thumbs through them as he pushes you more against him – which he doesn’t even have to put a lot of effort into, not when you sloppily fall against him with your hips wedged to his own, no fight notable in your body. He uses his tallest fingers to reach out from their place to hover over the closed zipper that keeps your panties hidden – and you can’t find it in yourself to break away from him.

‘‘Go to your boyfriend, then.’’ He says, his breath tickling underneath your ear. ‘‘I’m not holding you back.’’

You’re sure it’s the conceited tone in his voice that has something snapping inside of you – most likely the thick layer of confidence nagging at you to stay in your lane. And you have to remind yourself that you’re completely falling for him, melting in his embrace as if your boyfriend isn’t mere feet away from the two of you. As if this Jungkook guy has some kind of effect on you.

Pfft. As if.

You don’t say anything as you remove your body from his own, and neither does he. Yet both of his arms fall slack besides his posture when you look back at him, the tip of his tongue pocking the inside of his cheek. And you know it irks him, yet you’d have to walk over his dead body for him to say it out loud.

If he wanted you to go to your boyfriend, then you will. He can kiss your ass for all you care.

Stupid, hot basketball jock.

With no seats left over of which are relatively close to your boyfriend, you find yourself sitting on the arm of the couch. Annoyed and pissed beyond your limits. He doesn’t reach out for you to make you feel included alongside his friends and neither do you wait (nor want) for him to do so.

You don’t know where Jungkook is, and you force yourself not to care about him for much longer. He didn’t follow you into the living room like as you assumed he would, and for all you know, he could have silently left already the dorm already.

The idea of that doesn’t sit right with you, though. The void in the pit of your stomach is only expanding at the thought of you sitting here with Minho and his friends, watching some stupid game you’re barely interested in. With you being here, bored and out of your mind, does nothing to spark your boyfriend’s interest – and it’s not like you expected much different when you walked through his door today. Your mind is already looping down a hole of excuses you’ll be throwing into his face as soon as you can get out of here.

‘‘Minho,’’ you eventually speak up, fingers nudging his shoulder. ‘‘I’m leaving now.’’

He only hums in response, a quick and effortless ‘‘mhm’’ leaving his closed lips. Eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he unappealingly munches on some popcorn, the greasy saltiness sticking to his fingertips.

He’s not asking you why you’re leaving, and you don’t think it’s happening any time soon. Except doesn’t matter this time, because again, you didn��t expect anything else to happen. His friends are focused on the game, so you’re no use to him at this moment. Not when he can’t show you off in front of the world.

As if on cue, Jungkook comes strolling into the living area as soon as you stand up from your seat on the armrest. A bright red, nearly perfect looking apple rests in the center of his palm as he’s chewing on the remaining pieces in his mouth, flawless and sharp eyebrows just slightly furrowed.

He barely looks at you as he walks by, feet moving to his previous spot on Minho’s cornered sofa, yet he raises an unabashed eyebrow once he catches a glimpse of you. As if asking you where you’re heading to, but at the same time telling you he could care less if you were actually to leave.

That’s a lie though. You know that much.

Seeing the way he falls down on the couch with a huff, cockily munching on the sweet pieces of apple on his tongue; you can see right through him. He doesn’t want you gone.

The guy enjoyed shoving all the blame on you tonight, telling you how much you needed him, yet you know he is in an all too eager frame of mind for your presence just as much as you are for his. And it’ll be a hard job to get him to say it out loud, but you might as well think Jungkook is a challenge you’d gratefully accept tonight.

So in honor of him, you’ll stay just a little longer.

‘‘What are you doing?’’ Minho’s voice rummages through the room when you suddenly decide to slip into his lap, knees on both of his sides as your ass pokes out on his thighs. It doesn’t grab the boys’ attention just yet, only a few glances here and there before they quickly avert back to the game, scooping more loads of popcorn and coke down their throats.

But you can feel the eyes of a certain someone on you.

‘‘I want to cuddle with you.’’ You shrug, resting your head on the base of his shoulder, angled perfectly in a way where you can take Jungkook’s expression in. The dude doesn’t look happy. ‘‘I’ve missed you.’’

Jungkook doesn’t even pretend as if he’s interested in the game, not towards you nor his teammates. They’re not paying much attention to him, anyways. His harsh stare is only locking with your own as he slumps down his seat on the sofa, legs spread apart before you attempt on not looking down once he does so.

‘‘Did you miss me too?’’ You don’t want a genuine answer from him. Heck, you hardly hear him once he mutters an uninterested ‘of course I did’, and instead your fingers lock with his, guiding them down your ass.

And you’re glad his larger hands rest there without question, in full view of the guy you currently have wrapped around your finger. You can see his tongue poking in the inside of his cheek again, which is more than a good sign. He repositions himself quite a few times in his place, hoping the daggers he’s shooting in your direction are put into good use and you’ll back the fuck off soon enough.

There’s no luck on his side when your fingers come up to rest on your boyfriend’s jaw, solely being there for show when your lips make contact with the skin underneath his jawline.

‘‘Do you think they would notice if we’d fuck here?’’ Your voice is sharp and confident in the crook of his neck, the volume of your voice loud enough to catch some ears in the room.

Minho’s head shoots down to look at you as soon as the words escape your lips, totally caught off guard as well as the other boys who seem shocked as well – yet you couldn’t care less about them. Jungkook’s eyes are boring into yours and that’s all that matters at this right moment.

He’s stopped munching on the apple pieces in his mouth, swallowing them down his throat with some effort, his hand is tightening around the pretty colored fruit as he can already feel his body heating up at the sudden reference.

‘‘I don’t think they would care.’’ You continue to blabber on, the guy on the other side of the couch feeling a little tense in the current situation he’s finding himself in.

‘‘Babe..’’ Minho’s uncertain voice booms through his chest as he continues to mumble something about the game, but your focus isn’t on him. Instead you have found your center of attention elsewhere.

Else, where his hands drop down in between his spread legs, cupping the inner sides of his thighs. His jaw clenched so tightly that you’re able to catch the sharp jawline from this distance as the two rows of teeth are clutched against one another – unable to open up.

You’re leading this game. And you’re loving it.

taglist — @jinsalpaca @moonchild1 @annenhypen @fan-ati--c

#jungkook #ficscafe #jungkook drabble #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #koocycle

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

Text

Light in the Window

Jasonette July prompt 10: light

Jasonette July

My masterlist

Marinette jumped as there was a crash outside her window. She cursed loudly as she realized she ended up with a long, jagged line of stitching going off the wrong direction. At least she had just started this part and it would be on the inside so no one would see the mishap. She glanced over at the window. It had gone very silent but the crash was too loud for it to have been something that would have crept away without her hearing it.

She supposed she could use a stretch anyway. It wouldn’t do to not check out something hitting her window at this hour in Gotham. Too many possible things to go wrong. She didn’t want to test her luck against the City of Crime. But test it she had apparently, she thought with a sigh as she looked through the curtains.

She pried the window open to check and see if the form outside her window was breathing. She didn’t know all the characters that ran around on the rooftops in this city. They seemed to have a full cast of rotating characters. It was basically a vigilante soap opera. Too many of them used red as a main color. Perhaps it was inspired by Deadpool. They couldn’t show weakness so they had to camouflage the blood from any injuries.

The man moved and groaned slightly as his arm flopped off her window as she pushed it up. He jolted when his hand landed on his chest. She sucked in a breath as he went from laying there appearing dead to shooting his hand out to grasp her wrist in a death grip instantaneously. She backed away and started what would have been a surprised squeal if his hand hadn't covered her mouth muffling any noise she would have produced. He slipped through the window and closed it and curtain in a quick motion. He pushed her against the wall with his hand that was still covering her mouth. He made a quiet shushing noise before removing his hand and then walked over and turned off her light leaving her apartment in total darkness.

Marinette should have looked for a pamphlet or guide to the rooftop cast. It was something she had thought about but hadn’t done yet because she had hardly left since moving in. She had supplies and groceries delivered and there was a trash chute in the hallway. She hadn’t needed much yet and had a lot of work to do. Learning about the outside world here was not that high up on her to do list. She would have to hope that since he hadn’t already attacked that he would not find cause to do so.

She could have done a better job decluttering her pile of boxes that she hadn’t unpacked. She realized this as she tripped on a stack and then nearly fell over another. She hadn’t realized how close he had left her to the hazard. But before she tumbled all the way to the ground he had caught her mid fall and pulled her off her feet. She was awkwardly against his chest and thrashing until he set her down somewhere else. He moved her hand to the counter so she could tell that he had put her down in the kitchen. He must have some sort of night vision in his helmet.

“Do you have a light in here?" he asked.

“There is a switch by the fridge.”

A brief shuffle of feet and a flick and the soft glow of the kitchen light brought them out of darkness. Marinette still wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed to be moving around a bit, possibly checking for injuries. Now that there was enough light to see, she could see that he had guns on him. So, probably not one of the less dangerous ones. She didn’t think they used guns much. He righted himself a moment later, she could tell he was still on high alert and looking around her apartment. She moved herself closer to her abandoned place setting from earlier and tried to pick the quickest route to the door just in case she needed to escape.

“So, umm, who are you?” Marinette tried to sound casual.

She, of course, couldn't see his expression when he turned his head to look at her, but she imagined it was a quizzical expression on his face. Probably most Gothamites, native or otherwise had a good idea of most of the players around. Maybe he was one of the main characters and was offended that she didn’t know him.

“Are you new here?” he asked.

“Yes, not quite as new as you seem to be right here in my apartment. But I moved here recently.” she paused, not able to help a bit of snark in her current state. “The packed boxes are not just my choice of decor.”

She was glad to hear what she thought might have been a chuckle under his helmet.

“Most would probably tell you to leave them packed and just leave.”

“Everyone I know told me not to come at all, but my work is here.”

“Guess you can’t fault that.”

“So you aren’t offering a name, but you also don’t seem to be heading out. I was making some tea. Do you want some?”

“That sounds really nice. I would love some. Since you are so graciously offering your hospitality.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

She turned away to start the water and went about getting some snacks while waiting for the kettle to boil. He seemed to have no issue helping himself to whatever she had put out after removing his helmet to reveal a lensed mask beneath it. She ended up having to go in search of additional offerings because she hadn’t considered how much the man would eat. She pulled out noodle bowls she had made ahead to have easy food for herself and offered him one. It was simple to do with the kettle already freshly boiled.

She turned back around and slapped his hand away from the last macaron. Then gasped in shock when she realized what she had done. She still had no idea who he was. He laughed at her again before he picked up the macaron anyway. But instead of eating it he walked around to where she was sitting and lifted it up to her mouth. Marinette blushed as she took a small bite of it. He must have still been laughing at her because he leaned his face close to hers before he put the remainder in his own mouth.

“These are very good. I couldn’t just let you have the last one.”

“It's fine,” she said, her cheeks still burning. “I was due to make more soon anyway.”

“You made them? It is definitely settled, I will have to come back for more.”

“I don’t even know why you came here now. Unless you just didn’t have any food and needed some of mine.”

“I followed the light. I needed to lose someone following me.”

“Are you in danger?"

Her unasked question was whether or not he had put her in danger. He carried his tea and bowl of noodles and sprawled out on her couch before answering.

"They will have moved on tonight or will soon. I'm relatively certain no one saw where I went."

She set her own food on a tv tray and sat down on the other side of the couch. She was trying to pretend that this was all perfectly normal. She went about setting her food and tea up how she liked in silence. She didn't know what to say and he was content to remain silent. She could feel him watching her but she didn't want to turn and make eye contact with his mask lenses.

“Tell me about yourself.” He said breaking the silence.

“There isn’t much to tell. I moved here to expand my client base.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Originally I’m from France but after fashion school I took a semester in New York to get additional skills and help with understanding the language.”

“Fashion?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

“Not everyone can be as confident as you and run around the rooftops every night in an outfit that looks like that.”

He leaned close to her when she said that. She was pretty sure he was trying to intimidate her but she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Apparently her could tell though.

“Are you laughing at me?” she shook her head and bit her lip harder. “I like you. You either take no shit or you have no self preservation.”

“You have been here for a bit and you seem to have developed a vested interest in keeping me alive.”

“Did you not notice that I am carrying guns? I’m very good at using them.”

“I did. But you also ate all my food and decided you want to come back for more of my macarons.”

“I could get cookies anywhere. I’m a crime lord. I get whatever I want.”

“You probably won’t get better than someone who grew up in a French patisserie. But maybe that doesn’t matter if you are a crime lord resorting to hiding out in the apartment of a lowly fashion designer.”

“I like this. I don’t get a lot of people willing to talk to me like this.”

“Maybe its just because I don’t know who you are.”

“Could be. But I think you just can’t help yourself.”

He stood up and began walking around her apartment looking around. He spent a couple minutes looking at her designs in progress and then picked up her sketchbook. He held it up silently and she nodded, giving him permission to look in the book. When he got to a blank page he doodled a little picture and then closed the book without showing her. He looked back out the window and seemed to come to a decision.

“Thanks for the shelter and the hospitality. I guess I never got your name.”

“I didn’t get yours either.”

“I’m the Red Hood.”

Her eyes widened slightly. He chuckled. “So you have heard of me then.”

“I’m Marinette,” she said while nodding.

He walked up to her and brushed her hair from her face gently.

“I hope to see you soon Marinette. Its been a refreshing experience.”

With that he put his helmet back on and left through the window her came in and disappeared into the night. Marinette decided she was finished working for the evening and went to bed without bothering to put anything away. That certainly had been an interesting encounter. She wondered if he really would come back. She would have to buy more groceries if he did.

Taglist

#jasonette july 2021 #maribat #jasonette #Red Hood x Marinette #boldlyanxious

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indulge-that-sin · 3 years

Text

A Social Experience

Characters: GN!MC, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Mammon

Wordcount: 1700

Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Bonding Activities, Humor

(No spoilers for latter lessons, but takes place fairly late in the game.)

***

"--a gross, shut-in otaku like me!" Levi finished, on the all too familiar note.

Usually by this point you would already be launching into reassurances that he certainly wasn't gross, and shouldn't talk about himself like that, but this time there was nothing but a silence that bounced off the walls, damning and louder than any words.

You reached into your bag of chips, removed a single potato chip, and ate it as you tilted your head in thought. Levi took your silence like a slap in the face, and recoiled, his face already wavering. The sound of your chewing was distressingly loud in contrast.

You finished chewing and swallowed. "I mean, is that even true anymore?" you asked after a nerve-wracking length of time.

Levi's expression twisted more into confusion than hurt. "Huh?!"

"Don't you kind of lose your hikikomori credentials if you become popular and people start coming to spend time with you all the time?"

"That's not-- I'm not-- You don't count!" Levi sputtered.

"Oh, I don't count, huh," you repeated, putting a hand to your chest and dramatically feigning heartbreak.

Levi looked abashed now. "Th-that's not what I meant," he rushed to add.

"I know what you meant," you said. "Give it an hour."

Now Levi tilted fully into confusion.

"Give what an hour?"

"My point to be made," you said, and placed your D.D.D. onto the lip of the bathtub, out of your own reach. It was also clearly visible to Levi as you both sat on beanbags in front of his TV, next to the bath tub. "An hour," you repeated in a portentous video game narrator voice.

Levi scowled and picked up his controller again, turning back to his game. But his reactions were off, now. His character moved jerkily around the screen, doubling back and taking wrong turns on the 8-bit map as Levi's mood roiled with the strangeness of the conversation.

You continued eating your chips slowly, savoring the taste of the limited edition novelty flavor that Levi had generously acquired for you. He'd tried to pass it as a coincidence, but he didn't really know anyone else who unironically enjoyed the taste of cream and devilradish chips.

Not even half an hour passed before there was a knock on the door. Levi asked for the password on reflex. Surprisingly, from the other side of the door came a sigh, and then Asmo's melodious voice reciting the string of nerd trivia that Levi had set as a password for him ever since they became unlikely allies for the Bloody Moon competition.

"Come in, I guess," Levi replied, giving you a long look. Your D.D.D. was still on the edge of the bathtub, untouched as you sat there elbow-deep in greasy chips. You couldn't have called anyone over. And yet, was this what you expected to happen?

"Give it forty more minutes now," you said low.

Asmo fluttered into the room, like a passing breeze bringing in the smell of perfume.

"Oh, there you are, darling, I was wondering where you were," he said, face lit up as he saw you.

He sat uninvited next to you in the beanbag, and you scooted over to make space for him. Levi would have complained, except moving to make room for Asmo meant you shuffled closer to Levi instead, so he ended up biting his tongue.

"What do you want?" Levi grit out.

"Must I want something?" Asmo asked, "Is it not enough that I give my adorable brother the opportunity to entertain me?"

"He's bored," you translated.

"I'm soooo bored," Asmo whined, his shoulders rolling in a full-body sigh. But he perked up as he leaned forward to look at both you and Levi. "But what about all this? Mind if I join the fun~?"

"Let's find a game Asmo can play," you suggested.

"If you'd like," Asmo acquiesced with a shrug, indicating he'd had some other kind of fun in mind.

Levi gave you another sidelong glance, full of suspicion, but his head was out of the game he was playing anyway, so he exited and pulled up his game library instead. Deciding which game to choose was the trickier part, because Asmo had terrible reflexes, and an attention span worse than Mammon's when it came to playing anything. This ruled out anything requiring twitch reflexes or understanding complicated rules.

Asmo, meanwhile, scrunched his nose at your chips.

"All that grease and salt is going to be awful for your complexion, darling," he said, clearly disapproving.

"I'm not rubbing it on my face," you said, and defiantly sucked crumbs off your thumb. Levi nearly choked at the sound, which was borderline obscene. The little sound Asmo made in response did nothing to contradict this impression. Levi managed to swallow back the wave of envy before it came undammed by concentrating on the list of games on the screen. He still had to make a selection.

A farming sim seemed like a safe enough choice; something bright and frivolous. Just like Asmo.

Levi passed the controller as the title screen came up, and Asmo, to his credit, managed to choose the 'New Game' option without messing anything up. Yet. When the screen went dark as the game loaded, Asmo couldn't resist looking at his reflection and primping his hair a bit. Levi did resist snorting and rolling his eyes, but it was a close thing.

The character creation screen popped up with its myriad of options, and Asmo gasped in delight.

"Oh! This is a good start! Much better than getting shoved into some ugly gray metal suit at the beginning," Asmo remarked cheerfully. He cycled through the hair and clothing options with the speed and deftness of a veteran player.

"Hey, beginner armor in RPGs can be colorful too," Levi protested.

"But not fashionable, apparently," Asmo sniffed.

Asmo had only just barely settled on a hairstyle and color combination he thought was adequately cute, and was scrunching his nose at the shirt options, when another knock came at the door.

"Come in," you called out, before Levi could demand a password.

Mammon's head popped through the door, and he pulled a face when he saw you there, just like he always did when you were in somebody else's company and not his.

"Eh? What're you doing here?" Mammon asked, closing the door behind him and sidling up to the three of you.

He craned his neck and squinted at the screen, like he was verifying that whatever you were doing, it passed his requirements for propriety. Between knowing the kinds of games Levi had in his collection, and seeing Asmo there, maybe he was not completely unjustified in some suspicion, but it still made you want to roll your eyes.

"We're watching Asmo create his character," you explained.

Mammon guffawed. "Betcha been watching him do that for a while!"

"Fifteen minutes, more or less," you said. "But to be fair, Levi takes way longer to create characters."

"It's an important step!" Levi sputtered.

"Especially with the quality of the options," Asmo added. "Look at this. A purple T-shirt with a pink butt on it?"

"That's a peach!" Levi protested, his face turning red.

"I know what a butt looks like, Levi," Asmo replied tartly.

"Wait, wait, Asmo, that black one with the gold design ain't half bad! Go back an' pick that one."

"That gaudy thing! Absolutely not!"

"Mammon, why are you even here?" Levi asked, now completely exasperated with his brothers.

"I was just seein' if we were still on for Devil Kart against those Purgatory Hall guys. We need ta win back our honor, ya know."

"Do we?" Levi asked suspiciously, "or are you running a betting pool again?"

Mammon made a good show of appearing indignant at the very suggestion, but he'd hit you up earlier today about whether you'd be willing to take a dive in the second half of Candy Mountain in exchange for a lump grimm sum, so you knew too much about the subject to defend Mammon without exposing him.

"Can't I be showin' an interest without ya gettin' all suspicious a' me? What makes me so weird, huh? Asmo here doesn't even play games, and I don't see ya hasslin' him!"

"I do too play games," Asmo protested.

"Really? 'Cause only thing I ever saw you play was that stupid matching thing with the gems, and I ain't seen much of even that lately."

You knew which game Mammon meant, because it was the only game app you'd ever seen on Asmo's phone. You'd watch him play in moments of boredom, swiping his screen with a completely blank look of concentration as he matched the colors of the gems in rows and columns, and they burst into sparkles.

"Ugh, of course you haven't seen me play, I finished it. I have to wait until they add new levels."

"Didn't that game have like ten thousand levels already?" you asked. "You mean you passed all of them?"

"Eleven thousand and sixty five," Asmo corrected primly. "And yes, I did them all. I have to wait until they add more now. I asked."

The room fell into shocked silence at this. Even Levi looked mildly dyspeptic at the thought of completing eleven thousand levels of a match-3 game. You'd played it yourself for a while, and past the two hundredth level, the number of complicated mechanics the game introduced had completely broken you.

"Anyway," Mammon said after a few more beats of silence. He gestured to the screen, where Asmo was flicking between two shirt options. "This thing got co-op or somethin'?"

You finished your chips, and folded away the empty bag. When you picked up your D.D.D., fifty five minutes had passed.

"Still five minutes left," you muttered to Levi while Asmo and Mammon bickered over the choice of pants. "Wanna play the long odds and see if the twins show up too?"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Levi grumbled. "I let way too many people waltz in here. I'll have to tighten security."

But Levi's heart wasn't really in it, and when he turned to watch Mammon try to swipe Asmo's controller while the latter loudly protested, there was almost a smile threatening to spread over Levi's face.

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Hyena Laugh (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

We’re going back in time for this one! This takes place during the timeline of S1E1. You’ll see what I mean. Thanks for the cute suggestion; this prompt was really fun to work on! Lee Suga is so cute! Enjoy! ^^

“Hey, Suga, you good to lock up?”

No reply.

Daichi turned to where he’d last seen his friend. He was still there, leaning on a mop handle in the middle of the court, staring at nothing. Zoning out. He must be tired, Daichi thought as he approached the silver-haired setter. We did have a long day today.

Earlier that afternoon the two of them – plus Asahi, who had already gone home for the night – had traveled to watch the middle school volleyball tournament and scout out the up and coming players. Players that might be part of their team one day. The games themselves had been fairly standard; the thing that had really taken it out of the second-years was the actual driving to and from the event. They’d had to borrow Asahi’s family car for the day (hence Asahi going home earlier, as he had to return the vehicle), and being in that small space with each other for hours on end had gotten tiring.

“Suga?” Daichi tried again, gently putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You good?”

“Huh?” Suga turned, blinked. “Oh. Yeah, sorry, I can lock up.”

“Tired?”

“Not really.” There was a hint of something in his voice that tipped off the soon-to-be team captain. “Just thinking about the kids we saw today.”

Daichi nodded. “Definitely some talent out there.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause.

“Anyone in particular stand out to you?”

Suga hesitated. “Well…there was that one setter, I guess. He seems like a natural. He’d be a good one to have on the team.”

“Yeah? So what’s bothering you about him?”

Sugawara didn’t even try to deny it. His shoulders slumped. “It’s just, if he – or any other setter, really – joins the team next year, I won’t get to play as much by default. And I really love playing. I’d…I’d miss it, you know?”

Daichi nodded. “Yeah, I know. I get it. But even if you weren’t on the starting lineup anymore, you’d still get to play some games before we graduate. And there will be plenty of practices, too.”

“I know.” Suga suddenly perked up a little, offering a weak smile. “Sorry. I guess it’s just really hitting me that we only have one more year after this. Then it’s over.”

“Playing volleyball never has to be over,” Daichi reminded him gently. “Just our time at Karasuno.”

“You’re right.”

“I hate to see you upset, Suga.” The future captain pushed him playfully, grinning. “Let’s see a smile before we call it a night, yeah?”

Suga offered a smile, but it wasn’t his normal, full, bright one by any stretch of the imagination.

“Nah, come on.” Daichi started poking his fingers up and down his friend’s side. “A real smile. Give it to me.”

“Hehehehey,” Suga chuckled, stepping back and using one hand to bat at the offending pokes. “Stohohohop.”

Instead, Daichi grabbed onto both of his sides and squeezed, making Suga drop the mop handle as he burst into giggles, grabbing at his friend’s wrists.

“Nohohohohoho, Daichihihihi!”

“Smile for me, Suga!” Daichi teased, keeping his grip firm but his touches gentle, making sure the silver-haired setter was constantly grinning.

“I ahahahaham!”

“Bigger!” The future captain suddenly tackled him to the floor, falling on top of him in an awkward heap before finding his belly and digging into the soft flesh with the tips of his fingers.

Sugawara shrieked, starting to let out loud, high-pitched cackles that sounded oddly familiar. It took Daichi a moment to remember where he’d heard the noise before.

“Dude,” he cried, grinning widely, “you have a hyena laugh!”

“I do nohohohohohohot!” Suga protested, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment. He squirmed helplessly on the ground. “Stohohohohohohop!”

“Do not stop? Okay!” Daichi laughed, slipping one hand under Suga’s shirt to scribble at his belly directly. Suga continued to shriek and cackle and writhe, but then he suddenly jerked and let out a loud yowl, startling the future captain enough that he stopped. “Whoa, what was that?”

“N-Nohohothing,” Suga said quickly, still giggling a little, trying to sit up and push Daichi away. “Let me up.”

“Nuh-uh. I want to hear that noise again.”

“Don’t you—nohohohohoho!” Suga immediately fell back onto the floor, his strength sapped out of him, and he dissolved into hysterical, hyena-like giggles again. “Ahahahahahahaha! Daichi, pleheheheHEEEEASE!!” For the second time he screeched, curling up on himself as much as possible, cheeks bright red at this point. “Nohoho, not thehehehere, please Daichi!”

“Not where?” Daichi asked, genuinely interested. He tugged Suga’s shirt up enough to reveal his small navel, then used a fingernail to scratch at it gently. The setter instantly broke into squeaky, desperate laughter. “Not here? Not your belly button?”

“Stohohohohohohop!” Suga pleaded. “Dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me THEHEHEHEHERE!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Daichi grinned as he slipped his pointer finger into the cute innie and wiggled crazily, watching with great amusement as Suga fell apart beneath him, flopping around like a fish out of water. “Ha! Sensitive spot?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Suga cried, his laughter loud and pitchy and breathy and alternating between hyena cackles and squeals of mirth. “NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE, PLEASE!! DAICHI STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“But I finally got you smiling! It’s so cute that your belly button is your sweet spot. Such a tiny surface area, but it clearly tickles a lot, huh?”

Suga could not be more red. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP SAHAHAHAHAYING THAHAHAHAT!!”

“Saying what? That it tickles?” Daichi dug in a little more, using his free hand to scribble around the area. “That it’s a good spot? Both things are clearly true; I can’t lie to you, Suga.”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! S-STAHAHAHAHAHAP – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Suga gasped for air so hard he let out a snort, which only made him blush harder as Daichi burst into his own laughter and kept tickling. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! DAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAICHIIIIIIII!!”

“That was awesome!” Daichi wheezed, straddling his friend’s thighs to keep him pinned in place. “Do it again!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” As requested – though not by choice – Suga snorted once more, his hysterics growing now that he couldn’t move. His hands desperately shoved at his tormentor. “GET – GEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOHOHOUT!! GET OUT PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Another snort. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Daichi had never, ever seen Sugawara laugh this hard or this genuinely. He was almost in a trance, watching his friend dissolve into desperate hysterics, laughing so hard his cheeks and ears turned pink, his eyes scrunched up, and he lost all sense of control as the tickling wracked his nervous system. It was incredible.

“Your belly button is super ticklish!” The future captain laughed along with his friend, thoroughly amused and warmed to the heart at the same time.

“S-STAHAHAHAHAHAP SAHAHAHAHAYING--*snort*--THAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT WOHOHOHOHOHOHORD!! DAHAHAHAICHI, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! *snort* PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Daichi was genuinely confused. “What word?” He finally showed a little mercy and removed his finger from Suga’s navel, merely scratching at his belly instead as he contemplated. As Suga gratefully gasped for breath, Daichi smirked. “Ticklish? You don’t like hearing the word ticklish?”

“N-Nohohohohot thahahahat,” Suga wheezed, still giggling, though seeming to have lost the energy to fight back at this point. “T-The other wohohohohord.”

“What other word? Belly button?” Color flooded Suga’s cheeks, and Daichi couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “You get flustered hearing the word belly button?”

“Stop,�� Suga whined, covering his face with his hands. “Plehehease, you’re mahahaking it worse.”

“Aww, but why should I stop?” The future captain started swirling his finger around the tiny opening teasingly. “You can’t tell me you’re not having fun, Suga.”

The setter was clearly desperate already, giggling crazily and trying to cover his sweet spot, but Daichi kept pushing his hands out of the way. “I – I am, b-but…but please, Daichi, it really, really tickles there!”

Daichi smirked, slipped his finger inside again, and wiggled. Suga shrieked. “I can tell.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Sugawara pleaded, shaking his head and digging his heels in so hard his sneakers squeaked against the gym floor, trying to shove Daichi away from him but – failing that – beginning to slap the ground instead. “DAHAHAHAHAHAHAICHI YOU’RE KIHIHIHIHIHIHILLING MEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

Daichi laughed, but finally removed his hands from Suga’s poor belly entirely and climbed off of him. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

“M-Mohohonster,” Suga wheezed, rolling onto his side and curling up protectively, smile so wide it took up his whole face. “Y-You’re a…a monster! That was the worst!”

“Was it really?” Daichi asked, only half teasing now. For a split second he wondered if he’d honestly taken it too far, despite how big Sugawara was grinning. “Was it too much?”

“Yes,” Suga replied, still breathless, still beaming. “But you were right. It was kind of fun, too.”

“I, uh…didn’t mean to get so carried away,” Daichi offered, blushing a little himself, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s just, you reacted so well I kind of got addicted to it. Sorry.”

Suga finally mustered the strength to push himself up into a sitting position with a groan. “It’s all right. I’m not mad. Just – look, now that you know my weakness, you gotta use it against me sparingly, okay? I would say not at all, but…”

“But it was fun?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise I’ll only use your weakness against you when the situation is dire.” The future captain held up one hand and crossed his heart with the other. “Like, you know, when you bomb a math test or something.”

“What? That’s not a dire situation.”

“It is to me.”

Suga laughed again. His normal, everyday laugh. Evidently the other one was reserved only for when he was being tickled.

Daichi grinned. “Or, you know, when I need a reminder on what a hyena sounds like.”

“I do not sound like a hyena!”

“You really do.”

“I do not!”

“I mean, I can prove it again, if you want.”

“No!” Suga shoved him, smirking. “You’re so mean.”

“Yet you hang out with me anyway.”

“Some team captain you’re going to be.”

“I happen to think I’ll do great, Tickle Me Elmo.”

“Oh my god, do not start calling me that.”

“You have a better name?”

“My own name is fine, thank you.”

Daichi chuckled, leaning back on his hands, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “So, I take it you’re not bothered by that setter anymore.”

Suga looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “What setter?”

Daichi laughed.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#sugawara #suga #daichi #daisuga #playful #teasing #cute #fluff #cheer up #belly button #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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