#but there is something very earnest and genuine about him in his early appearances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karamfilmare · 3 years

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Always Been You || Kuroo x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve fallen back in love with your best friend, but does he love you?

Disclaimers: Hi, this is my first piece in a while, and my first smut piece. Please be nice, I’m so nervous about this.

Content Warning: Smut, Some fluff, Angst(?), Jealousy, praise kink, etc.

Here we go :’) Enjoy. I’ll just be nervously biting my nails, lololol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A familiar, corny tune sounded through the bedroom, the buzzing on the table causing an irritable disturbance to your sleep. Fumbling for your phone, you brought it to your ear, ready to chew out your best friend.

“Kuroo Tetsurou. Give me one good reason you are disturbing my weekend morning to sleep in, or I swear--”

“Chibi-chan, please,” Kuroo’s voice cut in, “Bokuto was calling me until I picked up and just yelled in my ear. Something about having some important thing, I don’t know, but apparently he wants to meet up with us.”

"Mmm," you groaned. You rubbed your eyes, taking a moment to process his words. Then it hit you. "Wait, he's here for a game?!"

"Hmm, oh yeah, that makes sense," his voice a bit clearer now, the sleep wearing off. "Anyway, let's go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Go where?"

"He said he'll send me the address. Just get ready, I'll come over as soon as I'm done.”

You huffed. “Who said I’m going? Do you know what time it is? It’s early.” You don’t bother to check the time, it didn’t matter; anytime period of time where class or studying wasn’t necessary meant that people were not to wake you up -- Kuroo should know this.

“Fine, I guess I’ll tell Bokuto you don’t love him,” he chuckled. That woke you with a start, his voice sending tingles down your spine.

“Do that, and I will shave your head while you sleep,” you hissed. “That will take care of your bedhead concern, you dork. And I’m up, I should be ready soon. I’ll open the door for you.”

“I have the key to your place, don’t worry, I’ll just let myself in, ok?” Kuroo said softly. “You just get ready, I know you probably need all the time to fix out your cute mess.”

“Kuroo-” you pretend growled. “I swear--”

“Oh no, the signal.” And the call ended with a click.

You huffed, and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. It wasn’t until you had started washing your hair that you stopped in your tracks.

“...Cute...”

Did you hear him right? Did he call you cute? Did he just let it slide out, or did he mean it? To be fair, he did put ‘mess’ after it, but what made him say cute at all? All he did was tease you unless it was something serious. Besides, you two are best friends, it’s not like there was anything going on, not now, not in the past, and not in the future, most likely. You felt your heart clench in your chest.

Well, maybe there was one thing that happened. Back in high school. You two were top of your classes, always fighting over who had top scores ever since middle school (it was always back and forth between you two). Not only that, but you both were talented volleyball players and captains, always organizing practice matches together, trying to improve your skills and techniques against each other; it wasn’t uncommon to have small training camps with Fukurodani and Shinzen, as well. At one such training camp was when the moment that would forever lurk in your mind occurred.

Official practice for your team had ended, but you stayed behind to work on a few more setting techniques. Your fixation on the accuracy of the sets made you unaware of your best friend’s presence, his tall frame leaning on the doorway of the gym.

“Oi, Chibi-chan,” he called out as you set the ball in the air. Startled, you turned to search in the direction where the voice came from. That momentary distraction left you open to the ball falling and bouncing off your head lightly.

“You idiot, you scared me,” you groaned, rubbing the spot on your head, while Kuroo started laughing. “If you’re going to be here to bother me, you can at least be useful and help me out with a few of these sets.”

Kuroo managed to calm his small laughing fit and made his way over to the net, his face donning a somewhat soft look. “You ok there, Chibi-chan?”

You huffed, turning away. “It’s fine. Just hit a few of these sets, I would appreciate it.” He complied, like the devoted friend he was, running through this extra practice until you realized how late it had gotten.

“Damn,” you rubbed your neck. “Have we been at this for two and a half hours?”

“It’s alright, it’s what this camp is for, remember?” He looked as if he had remembered what he came to the gym for, snapping his fingers and pointing at you. “You know, I didn’t see you grabbing dinner, did you eat?”

Cue a very well-timed stomach grumble. Your team had their individual practice slot right before dinner, but when you stayed after, you forgot about it, not grabbing anything to help sustain you. Despite feeling slightly drained, you shrugged it off.

“Oh, uh, you know, it’s not a big deal, honestly,” you had said, collecting the balls that were throughout the gym. Looking back at Kuroo, a rare, serious look appeared on his rather handsome face.

“(L/N),” he frowned, his voice stern. He rarely called you by your name. “You need to eat. Come on, I’ll help find something for you to eat in the kitchen.”

He reached his hand out, turning his face away. Slightly taken aback, you started to wonder if he really wanted to hold your hand. Involuntarily, your pulse picked up, though you dare not to get your hopes up. It was at a recent practice that you had realized what you were feeling for him, when your vice captain almost smacked some sense into you, while the rest of the third years on the team rolled their eyes; why your heart started racing when he sent a genuine smile your way, the way his voice just warms you, the way he always knew how to make you feel better. Everything about him just made you feel things you’ve never felt before.

But you couldn’t say anything. Not when the tentative new manager of your volleyball club with whom you were just becoming friendly with, Misa-chan, came up to you, her eyes shining in humble earnest, asking if you were going out with Kuroo. When you had reassured her that you weren’t, your heart tensing all the while, she brightened up and asked if you could ask to see what he thought about her, because she wanted to go out with him. Even though a pit in your stomach was forming, you agreed, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. You didn’t want to go back on your promise to help her, even though it hurt you. So you tried to push your feelings down.

But in this moment, your heart took the reins, reaching for his outstretched hand, your face feeling warm. His hand was warm and calloused from the years of volleyball, but so were yours, you were sure. It was comforting, yet exciting. None of the previous boys you went out with made you feel this way, not even the ones you thought you liked a lot. This was different. He was different.

You would worry about being selfish and betraying Misa-chan’s trust later. All that mattered was how his hand holding yours made your heart beat faster as you walked out of the gym. You tried to look at your friend’s face from the corner of your eye, only to see that his face was also turned away.

“You know, I worry about you,” Kuroo broke the silence. “I sometimes worry about you just as much as I do about Kenma.”

“Hey, now, that’s a bit harsh. I just happened to miss dinner once or twice, it’s not--”

“I worry about you almost in the opposite way. You work yourself to the bone, whether it’s for school, practice, at home...you’ll burn yourself out. And that’s coming from me.”

“Well, hey,” you shrugged, chuckling. “If I do burn out, you’ll easily get the top spot, you know. And besides,” you curl your hand in a weak fist and nudge his arm, “you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been doing this for quite a while, you know that.”

You felt your hand get slightly tugged as Kuroo stopped in his tracks, slightly tightening his grip on your hand, forcing you to face him. You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern, his lips pursed.

“I will always worry about you,” he let out with a sigh. “You’re...you’re always on mind.”

You’re slightly taken aback, but you tell yourself to not jump to anything. “Well, I should hope you think about me at least a little. I’m your friend after all,” you chuckle.

He shakes his head lightly. “No, that’s...that’s not what I mean.”

“Well, look at the master of provocation looking so serious now. Whatever you’re thinking must be weighing down on you.” Chuckling, you tried to rationalize in your mind, trying to calm your heart, to no avail. “What’s on your mind, Tetsu?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His hand still enveloped yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, gently pulling you a bit closer. You looked into his eyes, the lights of the night causing the hazel to appear nearly ethereal. His face inched closer, to the point where you could feel the featherlight touch of his breaths on your face.

“Have you ever thought about how we would--”

“Oi, Kuroo-senpai! (L/N)-senpai!” you heard Yamamoto call out for you all, which caused the warm hand to drop yours so fast, the boy attached to the hand turning towards the voice, running his hand to the back of his neck. You turned away from him, taking a step back from him, your thoughts spinning. You hardly registered anything that happened when the younger boy approached you all and started talking to his captain.

You walked off to the direction of your sleeping quarters, slightly dazed. You were confused by what he could have wanted to say? Was there something that you had missed? Just what did he think of you?

No, that doesn’t matter, because you were going to help Misa-chan. You were grateful to her for wanting to take on the thankless occupation of being a manager, so you were going to keep your promise. Just keep your feelings down, you were sure they would fade away eventually.

Right?

As you let the water pour over your back, you thought that you had done a good job of doing so. You did eventually get Misa-chan and Kuroo to date for nearly a couple of months, while you had cried yourself to sleep, night after night, until you picked yourself up and even dated others, squashing away your emotions until you couldn’t feel them anymore.

It seemed as if things between you two had returned to normal. Neither of you brought up that night ever again. You didn’t want to relive that uncertainty, it was better to stay in the past. It should have stayed in the past, so why did everything reopen again?

You stepped out of the shower, drying your hair and wrapping a towel around your body, before stepping out of your bathroom to get your clothes ready. Remembering the laundry you had left unfinished the previous night, you groaned and walked out of your room, hoping you could take care of at least finding something to wear before Kuroo came.

Except when you had left the room, you saw a wide-eyed Kuroo in your living room. You both froze for a moment, like two deer caught in headlights. You saw his eyes look down your body, a slight tint of pink coming to his cheeks. You turned away, squeaking in embarrassment.

“Well, Chibi-chan,” he cleared his throat. “If you wanted to seduce me, you could have just said--”

“Agh, turn around!” You could feel your face heat up, but what was worse was that you could feel yourself being...aroused? By what? You shook your head and ran back into your room, closing the door and leaning against it. Biting your lip, you gave yourself a moment to cool down, dry yourself off, and search through your drawers for clothes to slip into.

After getting dressed, you left your room to find Kuroo still turned around, in the same spot as before. “Tetsu, why are you still turned around?” you chuckled, walking up to him. “You do know I changed in my room, right?”

When he turned around, you stole the chance to admire him, thinking back to the difference between high school Kuroo and the present. He grew to be even more handsome through the years, still somehow growing even taller. His face had just about lost all the boyish charm, instead taking on a more angular, masculine shape. The hazel eyes exuded an intelligent confidence that was rather charming; though when he smiled, they warmed and softened, revealing the rare quiet side. The workouts had definitely trained and formed his body into perfection, the kind Michelangelo wished he could model his sculptures from; he took care of himself. The black t-shirt and jeans ensemble accentuated his build. His hair was still his trademark bedhead, but you loved it on him, it just wasn’t Kuroo without it. Overall, he was so damned attractive, and it was utterly exasperating to resist his physical appeal, damned near impossible when coupled with his caring, easygoing nature.

Mr. Devilishly Handsome Bedhead smirked. “Chibi-chan, maybe you should take a picture, it will last longer.”

“Whatever, Tetsu,” you rolled your eyes. “Do I look alright?”

Kuroo fell quiet for a moment, and he looked you down again, before looking into your eyes again, clearing his throat. “You look more than alright.” He shook his head. “We need to go now, so we can catch up with Bokuto a little before he gets busy and causes chaos somewhere.”

You nodded and grabbed your bag, phone, and keys. Kuroo brought his hand to your back, ushering you towards the door. His touch was light, but it still made your insides do flips. Damn it, stop reacting this way to him, he said he was interested in somebody. All you’ll get is a broken heart, you thought to yourself. Recalling one time after studying in the library, he asked a hypothetical question about how he should approach someone he was romantically interested in.

“So, Tetsu, any updates about that someone you’ve got your eye on?” you asked, locking the door, pulling away to walk alongside him.

His eyes widened a little, and he brought his hand to his neck. “Uhh, well, uh, I-,” he stuttered out. “She is, uhm, she’s doing alright. Yeah, I see her a lot.”

“You do?” you asked, your heart dropping a bit, cursing the stupid fluttering at his adorable reactions. “That’s good. I’m glad, is she nice? You haven’t told me much about her.”

“Well, yeah, she’s really nice. She’s very caring, driven, hard-working, almost to a fault. It’s like she can’t seem to-- Oh, whatever, it’s not that important.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s important. You’re my friend, of course I’ll care about this. Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing.”

“Well, it’s just...I’m not ready to talk too much about her, I don’t want to get my hopes up. Besides, I don’t think she likes me that way.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m sure she’s interested, I know quite a few girls in my classes who ask about you, hoping I’d introduce you. But if you’re not up for talking about her right now, I’ll drop it.” Secretly, you were slightly relieved as well. Whoever this girl was had him on his toes.

You both started talking about studying, quirky facts, old friends, Kenma, and other usual conversation topics for a while, until you both reached a cafe, seeing Bokuto and Akaashi sitting at a table. Bokuto was waving excitedly, and you couldn’t help but grin seeing him and his energy. Akaashi was sitting quietly, but he softly smiled at you.

“Kuroo! (L/N)-chan!” Bokuto exclaimed. “It’s been too long!”

You both took your seats at the table. “It’s good to see you again Bokuto. Akaashi, let me guess--Bokuto knocked on your door and ambushed you?”

Kuroo chuckled next to you. “Bokuto, it’s good to see you, man. How’s everything going on the team?”

“It’s been great!” he beamed. He went on to talk about recent skills he’s picked up, matches, teammates, and so on. You felt Akaashi’s eyes on you, and you turned to look at him. You two were rather close, having played the same position in high school, as well as hanging out regularly in the library to study. He knew about your returning feelings for Kuroo, so you pouted when you saw him raise an eyebrow at you. You knew what he was trying to imply, and you shook your head. He rolled his eyes, as if mocking your inaction.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto looked to the younger man. “What are you and (L/N)-cha miming over there?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Oh, it’s nothing. We’re just telepathically communicating, you know, like we do.” You pressed your fingers to your temples and squinted your eyes, pretending to send messages to Akaashi, who rolled his eyes in turn, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I’m telling her she’s being a coward.”

“Am not!”

“What are you being a coward about?” Kuroo jumped in. “Is this something I know about?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, when will you ask out that one girl you like?” You retorted. “You’ll never know if she likes you if you don’t ask her.”

Bokuto quirked an eyebrow and turned towards Kuroo. “Does she not kn--”

Kuroo slapped a hand across the other man’s face in a panic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.” He turned to you. “You see, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” a voice came from behind you. You all turn to see Kenma, looking down at his phone, walking towards the table. “I don’t see the problem in asking her.”

“Kenma!” you greeted. “Wait, do you-- of course you know who he likes.”

“Kenma, don’t you dare,” Kuroo warned.

Kenma shrugged, sitting down at the table, between you and Akaashi. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” He went back to his phone, checking through his emails and social media.

You looked at him, pouting. But you knew if Kenma said something like this, you had to trust him. It hurt that Kuroo seemed to avoid the subject around you, but you couldn’t help it at this point. You would just wait for him to tell you more.

You all enjoyed yourselves, catching up with Bokuto. You found out that he had a match against the Adlers tonight, and he managed to get tickets to see the match for the group. He took a small break to see everyone before he had to leave to get ready for the match. He was excitedly chattering about his teammates, some new techniques he picked up, and other things that had been going on in his life. At some point, Kuroo mentioned a gathering at someone’s place, and Kenma reluctantly offered up his apartment to meet up afterwards to celebrate Bokuto’s achievements. Some time had passed before Bokuto had to leave early (at Akaashi’s reminder) to get ready for the match. You and Kuroo offered to walk Kenma home, but he declined, saying he had to meet up with some investors for his company he was going to found.

So the two of you walked back home, this time in relative silence. You looked up to his face and found it looking a bit distant, as if he had the world weighing down.

“Tetsu?”

He looked down towards you, his trance seeming to be broken. “Hmm, what’s up Chibi-chan?”

“What’s up with you? Ever since we left, you’ve been silent.”

“Oh, just thoughts.”

You fell silent, biting back the quip you wanted to say. You didn’t want to mock him in his serious state, he could feel vulnerable in his thoughts. “Well, if you feel the need to relieve your stress, you can rely on me, ok?” Falling silent, the two of you

Reaching the apartment building, you both stopped at your door. Standing over you, he peered into your face, his eyes searching yours for what felt like years. You couldn’t describe what was in his eyes, but the color was...somewhat intense. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but he closed them again. He brought a hand up, it being nearly centimeters away from your jaw, before it switched directions to land on the door, turning his face down to clear his throat.

“Uh, so Chibi-chan...listen, I’ve been wondering, but…” he hesitated a moment, “a-are you and Akaashi a thing?”

You raised an eyebrow, hoping you were doing enough to mask your slight emotional flustering at his closeness, confused as to why he would think this. “I--no, why?”

“No reason. Anyway, Chibi-chan,” he seemed to revert to his more confident persona. “I guess I’ll see you in a bit to go to the match, and then we’ll go to Kenma’s? What time are you thinking you’ll be ready?”

Giving him a time to meet, your heart fluttered as he slowly pushed himself off the door, turning to walk next door to his apartment. You both stood at your doors, briefly staring at each other, before entering your respective abodes.

What was with Kuroo? You grabbed your phone to text Kenma and Akaashi, the two people who could help sort out your thoughts.

Y/N: Guys, I think something is up with Kuroo. Kenma: You just noticed? He’s always been weird

Y/N: No I’m serious >:(. Y/N: I mean, he just asked me if something was going on between Akaashi and me.

Akaashi: …

Y/N: What’s with that response?

Akaashi: Nothing. I mean, everyone knew I had a thing for you...

Y/N: O-O What?

Akaashi: But you were too focused on him, so I gave up.

Y/N: I-- Wow, I was blind.

Kenma: Yes, you are*

Y/N: Hey!

Kenma: It’s true.

Akaashi: ^^

Y/N: Anyway, I could have sworn he was going to touch my jaw. But that’s probably nothing.

Kenma: ...your jaw? Is that what you texted us for?

Y/N: ...Yeah, sorry, I knew it was stupid. It’s just that he switched his hand direction and leaned against my door instead.

Akaashi: The “sneaky” kabedon ;).

Y/N: ...Nah, couldn’t be…

Kenma: You’re in denial. Just come tonight, don’t worry, things might reveal themselves.

Y/N: ...Is the girl Kuroo likes gonna be there?

Kenma: …

Akaashi: …

Kenma: You know what, yeah, she will be. There, you happy?

Y/N: >:( Tremendously. Whatever, I’ll see you all later.

You entered your room, picking up a few things and putting them away, before plopping yourself on your bed, musing thoughts over. Before you knew it, you had drifted off, the bed providing a small, soft comfort.

Feeling someone’s hand on your back, shaking you awake, you opened your eyes, turning your head to see Kuroo chuckling at your face.

“I should have known you had fallen asleep, it’s so like you.” He sits down on the bed next to you. “You had me worried there for a second, not answering my texts or calls.”

You grabbed your phone and checked the notifications to see nine missed calls from Kuroo, 15 texts from Kuroo, and one call from Kenma somewhere in between. You sighed, burying your face in the bed. “Sorry,” you muttered.

“It’s ok, I’m lucky I have a key to your place to check up on you.” He brought a hand to brush the hair away from your eyes, the light touch stirring your feelings again. “Anyway, you should probably get ready. You kind of need to fix yourself up,” he teased, which earned him a whack with a pillow from you.

“Shoo shoo, let me get ready,” you urged him out, shooting back with, “I think you need to take a look at yourself.”

“Wha- You liar, I look damn fine, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, rooster head,” you retorted, though you silently agreed with him. As you pushed him out of your room, you changed into your outfit to watch the match and the meet-up afterwards.

Stepping out, you picked up your wallet, purse, keys, and phone, then turned to Kuroo who was gazing at you. He looked as if he was trying to memorize the outfit on you, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you weren’t the only one with feelings.

“Tetsu? You ready to go?”

He blinked a few times, shaking his head. “Uh yeah, yeah.”

“Wait.” You went into the bathroom to grab a comb you kept around only for him to use. You went over to him and started combing through his hair, trying to fluff out his hair a bit more. “Damn it Tetsu, how did you get even taller than you already were in high school?”He tried to back away, but you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down, trying to adjust his wild hair. “Just hold on...there, now you’re ready.”

He smirked, ready with his usual quip. “Damn Chibi-chan, if you wanted to--”

“Seduce you, I could have just said so?” You finished for him, shaking your head, chuckling. “Come on, you’re so predictable.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with Kuroo. His eyes went slightly dark for a second, his smirk dropping. “Predictable? We’ll see about that.”

Caught off guard by his sudden shift, you let go of him, clearing your throat. He stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck, the flash of dominance dissipating. “Uh, I mean...let’s just go, we don’t want to keep Akaashi and Kenma waiting.”

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You all made it to Kenma’s after the game, with an extra person in tow. The match was highly entertaining. MSBY had won, 2-1, in close sets, even with the formidable spiker Ushijima and the genius setter Kageyama on the Adlers. Bokuto had played extremely well, along with the rest of the team. After the game, he came out with a dyed blonde-haired guy you recognized as the setter of the team. Bokuto introduced him as Atsumu Miya, saying he wanted to have him hang out with the group.

So there you all were, enjoying a few snacks and learning about each other. Kuroo and Bokuto were laughing in one area, Akaashi standing next to Bokuto, while Kenma was sitting down, playing a game as usual. You were chatting with Atsumu, who turned out to be quite charming, if not a little full of himself, but you couldn’t help but enjoy his company. Easily transitioning from topic to topic in the conversation, you got to know each other fairly well, laughing at his jokes and stories. Sometimes you would glance over at Kuroo, catching him staring in your direction with a hint of envy.

~~~~~ Kuroo POV ~~~~~ Kuroo couldn’t help but feel uneasy looking at a new rival with (y/n). He didn’t express it fully, but he was seething. Atsumu seemed like an alright guy, but at the moment, all he could feel was bitterness towards him.

“Kuroo, man, whatcha thinking?” Bokuto drew his attention away from the two. “How much I kind of want to punch you right now.” Kuroo looked at his friend with a pained smile.

“Over (y/n)-chan and Atsumu?”

“Noooo, over you and Atsumu, yes about them.”

Bokuto smiled and lightly punched Kuroo in the arm. “Come on, man, it’s not like you two are dating,” he said, a mischievous look on his face.

“Bokuto. Spit it out.”

The grey haired athlete shook his head, chuckling. Even Akaashi seemed to smirk a bit. Something was definitely going on, there had to be if Bokuto was in on it. He pursed his lips, forcing his gaze away from (y/n) laughing with Atsumu, his heart clenching. He gritted his teeth and glared at Bokuto and Akaashi, then went over to talk to Kenma.

“Yo, I know you’re in on whatever Bokuto and Akaashi are plotting, so you’re gonna have to spill.”

Kenma didn’t look up from his game. “Mmm, no.”

“I figured. Whatever.” He turned to see Bokuto getting on the couch, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Guys, let’s spice this up and play a game! We’ll get to know each other a little, like truth or dare, but with small little consequences if you don’t do either.”

Atsumu turned around, grinning. “Alright, this oughta be fun. (L/N)-san, ya gotta sit next to me.”

Kuroo glanced back, throwing daggers at the blond-haired setter, but trying to avoid his eyes. He then shifted to see (y/n) smile and nod, which only fueled his jealousy.

~~~~~~ (Y/N) ~~~~~~~~

You were all having a fun time, especially listening to Atsumu’s little truths whenever he was picked. Bokuto was boisterous and fun as always, following through on all the dares given with no shame. Akaashi was shaking his head at his best friend’s antics, holding back his laughter, while giving vague answers when truths came up. He would occasionally give pointed looks between you, Atsumu, and Kuroo, but you rolled your eyes. Even Kenma seemed to be mildly amused, a glint appearing in his eyes when he looked up at you and Kuroo occasionally.

Kuroo, on the other hand, seemed unusually sour, especially when Atsumu occasionally would lay a hand on your shoulder or arm, laughing and getting your attention. His eyes would avert away as soon as you looked back at him, but it didn’t stop him from stealing glances at you.

“Oi, (L/n)-chan, before ya do yer dare, tell us, any men in yer life?” Atsumu asked.

“Well, all of these guys are in my life, as well as a few others,” you laughed.

Atsumu smirked, leveling a flirty gaze at you. “Ya know what I meant.”

Before you knew it, you stole a glance Kuroo’s way before your mind took over and made you look away from him. “Uh, well, currently, it’s a no, no boyfriend at the moment.”

“Hmm, interesting. Well, I dare you to kiss all the guys here,” Atsumu dared. “At least one of them has to be on the lips,” he tagged on, as if expecting a loophole.

Your eyes widened, and you looked down at your fingers. You could feel your face heat up at the dare. You could get away with kissing the guys on the cheek, but who would you kiss? Would you be bold enough to kiss Kuroo? This was your one chance to do so. But what if he didn’t want you to? He could push you away, and your heart would just shatter. But there was no one you wanted to kiss.

“Hey, she shouldn’t have to--” Kuroo started to defend you when another voice cut in, one you didn’t expect.

“Come on Kuro, it’s fine.”

You whipped your head to Kenma, who actually looked up at you from his phone, a slight smirk on his face. “You’re a big girl, you can handle yourself, can’t you?”

You huffed and pouted at him, but stood up anyway. Walking over to Kenma, you grabbed his face and planted a goofy kiss on his cheek, being obnoxious about it, knowing he would hate it. This elicited a few laughs from the group.

“Come on (f/n), that was uncalled for.”

“That’s what you get,” you teased. “Bokuto, you’re next.”

“Yes!” He fist pumped the air. “Get over here, I want a (l/n)-chan kiss!”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing his cheek. “There you go, big boy. Congrats on your playing today!”

Releasing yourself from him, Akaashi was next. You softly press a kiss to his temple, then ruffling his hair. “And there’s pretty boy Akaashi’s kiss.”

“Was the hair ruffling necessary, (l/n)-san?” He said, before glancing towards Kuroo. Turning your attention towards to the latter, you could see his crossed arms and his slight scowl. Shaking your head and sighing, you turned to Atsumu, wearing a small smile.

Walking over to the confident setter, your intention was to kiss his cheek and quickly move on. However, it seemed that the young man had other ideas, slightly turning his head in a split second to catch your lips, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek. It only lasted for a moment, but he pulled away, a cheeky grin appearing on his face.

“Well, pretty girl, ya have one more guy to kiss on the cheek, and then yer free.”

Your heart started racing, thinking of whether you should go through with kissing Kuroo. Swallowing the anxious feeling, you stand up and walk over to him. You paused, heart pounding, looking up into his eyes. There was something unreadable in his expression that left you feeling conflicted about what was about to happen.

Lightly grabbing his collar, you leaned in, gently pressing your lips against his. Briefly, the thought of pulling away crossed your mind, but Kuroo’s firm hand on your neck removed all thought. He snaked a hand around, pressing you closer to him. The feeling of his soft lips sent your heart soaring, those years of daydreaming could not compare to this moment.

Reluctantly pulling away from the kiss and letting him go, you shift your feet away, feeling his hands slip down your body before dropping to his sides. Avoiding his gaze, you turned away, excusing yourself and heading into Kenma’s kitchen to try to calm down from the slight rush.

Gripping the counter, your thoughts swirled in a cloud, not being able to form anything coherent. Nothing seemed to be any clearer, no matter how much you sighed and shook your head.

“Hey, ya seem to be deep in yer thoughts.” You looked to see Atsumu leaning on the doorway of the kitchen. “Mind telling me about ‘em? Won’t do ya any good huffing them out to no one.”

Chuckling, you contemplated the tempting offer. “I have a feeling you know more than you’re letting on. I mean, it’s pretty obvious what I’m feeling.”

He stood up straight, walking over to the cabinets to reach for a glass to fill with water, placing it in front of you. “Drink this. It won’t hurt ya.”

You shook your head, giggling at the action. “I didn’t take you for someone who would look after someone’s well being. It’s sweet of you.”

“Well, for a pretty girl like you, I think I could make myself a bit more chivalrous, don’tcha think?” He smirked, appearing to search your eyes. “Anyway, you, uh, look like ya need some company. I’d be willing to listen.”

A wry smile appeared on your face. You spoke of your feelings for Kuroo, how you’d thought you’d given up on him until a few months ago, how sure you were that he didn’t like you back, how you just compared everyone to him as a standard, how you hated feeling this way. Atsumu stood there, leaning against the counter, listening attentively, nodding along to your words. It was kind of a relief to spill these feelings onto someone else.

“Ok, I see what’s going on. I mean, I had an idea of what was going on from Bokuto, but I didn’t really care about his drama until he roped me into this.”

“Of course Bokuto told you,” you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“He told me some friends needed help getting their asses kicked into action, and if I would be willing to help,” he continued. “I was going to refuse, but I heard about a damsel in distress, and I knew I had to meet this lovely lady. Now...I kind of wish I didn’t agree.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ve half a mind to steal you away,” he angled his head a bit bashfully, contrasting his confident tone, having edged slightly closer to you. “Listen, if he doesn’t treat you well, I’d snatch ya up in a heartbeat.”

“Very funny, Atsumu,” you giggled. “I’m glad I met you, ythough. It’s nice getting this off my chance. I really appreciate you, you’re not so bad.”

“(F/N), are you still here?” A voice approached from the entryway. You knew who it was, feeling the slight jolt down your spine every time he spoke. “Have you seen Miya-san around? I can’t seem to--oh, he’s here.” The last statement took a slight edge to it, something you weren’t used to hearing from him unless he was really upset.

“Ah, Tetsu,” you started, feeling the temperature rise a couple degrees to something a bit uncomfortable. “Yeah, Atsumu’s here, he’s been keeping me company. Don’t tell me you’re stealing him away from me.”

You swore you could hear him huff. “Bokuto was trying to find him to see when he was ready to leave. But it seems you two have gotten cozy with each other. I’ll let you two carry on.”

"Ah nah, it's getting pretty late," the younger man sighed, backing away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'll grab Bokuto and get to the room. Maybe we'll see you tomorrow before we have to head back."

"Yeah, I hope so," you nodded. "Here, let me walk you out."

Exiting the kitchen, you saw Bokuto standing around the door, a smile springing on his face when he saw you. "Hey hey hey! Did you have fun with Tsum-Tsum here?"

"Bokkun, I told ya not to call me that around other people, come on now," Atsumu frowned, crossing his arms. "And I think so, (L/n)-chan here is a delight. I'm glad we get along so well."

Chuckling, you nudged his ribs, and he wrapped an arm around you, messing with your hair. “Yup, Atsumu and I are thick as thieves now.”

You didn’t need to turn around to sense an intense glare at you two coming from Kuroo. You could see it in the way Bokuto’s face slightly twisted as he grabbed Atsumu’s arm and pulled him away, saying “Well, we best be getting on now. Have a good night everyone. Hopefully we’ll see you soon.”

Bidding them a farewell, the rest of you stood around for a moment in awkward silence, before Kenma asked Akaashi to help him out with something, leaving you frozen under Kuroo’s hard stare, his arms crossed. Taking a silent breath, you gripped your wrist, unsure of what to expect next.

“You seemed pretty close with Atsumu, considering you two just met,” he all but hissed out.

Your eyebrows slightly drew together, eyes narrowing at his comment. “Yeah, I made sure to know he’s welcome in the group. He’s a pretty nice guy to be around. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Just kind of weird.”

Shifting your weight onto one leg, you crossed your arms, your eyebrows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Chibi-chan,” he smirked, but his tone was nothing but full of edge. “You normally don’t jump to the first guy who shows you attention.”

“Excuse me?!” Your voice level raised a few decibels, disbelief in what you were hearing. “I was not ‘jumping’ on him. We happened to talk a bit.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he scoffed. “He seemed to cling to you.”

“And is that so wrong?”

“He has a thing for you, can’t you see?” Exasperation seeped in his voice.

You rolled your eyes. “Wow, is that so bad that he does? Besides, we just met, it’s not like--”

“Do you have a thing for him?” Kuroo cut in, his stare piercing right into you.

Pausing, you took a moment to try to understand this line of questioning. “W-Why does it matter to you?”

He shook his head in what seemed to be in disbelief, bringing a hand to his forehead, and sighing out. “You know, (F/n), you can be really heartless sometimes.”

“Heartless?! You’re the one who kissed me back, even though you have feelings for another girl!” You were fuming. What on earth was he getting agitated for, and why did he drag you into his tantrum? You turned your back to him, grabbing your stuff and opening the door out. You tuned out the voices from inside calling your name, pleading you to stay, but you were not having it. You slammed the door behind you, marching in the direction towards your apartment.

~~~~~ Kuroo ~~~~~~ Standing in the same spot, he stared after the door, the bitter feeling of jealousy slowly ebbing, giving way to remorse. Why did he let his anger cloud his judgment? He’d gone and fucked things up now, she would hate him. He dropped his gaze towards the floor, bringing his hands to his face, his fingers digging into his scalp. Breathing heavily, he clenched a fist, turning towards Akaashi and Kenma. They exchanged looks with each other, looking back at him.

“Kuro,” Kenma broke the silence. “Listen, it’s--”

“I fucked it up. I fucked it all up. She’s going to hate me now,” Kuroo muttered.

Akaashi stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Listen, Kuroo-san. You really are a pain in the ass…”

“Thanks, but now’s not the--”

The younger man held up a hand, motioning for silence. “...but you’ve a heart of gold. And (f/n)-san knows this. She wouldn’t hate you after one intense argument, that’s not how she is.”

Starting to become distraught, he shook his head. “I don’t want to be like my parents. I-I can’t lose her, too. She’s been there for me. I just can't believe I let her see that side of me.”

“What, that you’re jealous? Listen, if you tell her how you feel, I’m sure it’ll clear up things,” Akaashi insisted.

“I don’t think I can tell her like this.”

Kenma, doing the most unexpected thing, set down his game, walked over to Kuroo and looked him in the eyes, fully gaining the latter’s attention. “Kuro, listen. I don’t normally spill her secrets, but this is probably the one time I will: (F/n) has been in love with you for such a long time. She knows you pretty much everything about you, and she still loves you. She would still forgive you, if you hurry and apologize about what an ass you’ve been.”

Akaashi and Kuroo just stared at Kenma, speechless. Akaashi cleared his throat. “Yeah, what he said. Run over to her and spill your feelings. Don’t worry about anything, just let it all out.”

“I got you a ride to get you back there. You can probably make it before she does if you hurry,” Kenma piped in, smirking, “go and grovel before her.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to say something, but he was immediately shoved out the door and told to get in the car. The rest of the ride was a blur, thoughts racing in his head, heart pounding in his chest. God, he wanted to make this work. He’d never seen her so angry at him, she’d never stormed off like this. Seeing the pain in her eyes just upset him to the core, but jealousy was a cruel mistress, only wanting to wound. He should have stopped, he should have just let it go.

“Your stop.”

The driver’s voice snapped Kuroo out of his spiral. “Oh, uh, thank you, is there--”

“Don’t worry, you’re deep in your troubles. Just make sure she accepts your apology.”

Kuroo nodded, feeling the pressure. He quickly stepped out of the car, thanking the driver, and ran up the stairs to her apartment. Seeing the lights out, he realized she hadn’t arrived home yet, so he waited outside, not wanting to enter her home with the spare key, feeling like he couldn’t enter her place.

~~~~ Y/N ~~~~~

You saw a figure stand at your door, startling you, since it was dark. “Hey, you there, what are you doing?”

“Chibi-chan, it’s me.”

Hearing that voice, a swarm of emotions you thought you had pushed down on your walk here threatened to overwhelm you. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Please, hear me out.” His tone was pleading, desperate, and painful for you to hear.

You hiked up the stairs, rushing over to feel his face. “Tetsu, you’re cold! How long have you been waiting here?! Oh, nevermind, get inside.” You fumbled for your keys, opening the door, and dragged him inside. “God, why were you waiting for me out there?”

“I have to come and apologize. Please hear me out.”

Sighing, you motioned for him to sit down on the couch. “Alright, fine. Lay it on me.”

Kuroo sat down, hunched over, seemingly biting the inside of his lip. He sighed, lifting his head, his gaze meeting yours, which still made you catch your breath. “(F/n), listen. I’m so sorry for what happened back there. It’s not my place at all, but I just… I kind of snapped. All those years of being on the sidelines, seeing you with others…it all came flooding back. I thought I had the chance of letting you know how I felt, but seeing you settling in with Miya...it just stoked my jealousy. And, without really considering anything, I just lashed out on you.”

You held up a hand, pausing his words. “Wait, telling me how you felt? What do you mean?” Your heart picked up its pace again, not caring about getting its hopes up for naught. He expelled a short breath through his nose, almost in disbelief, standing up over you. “What, you don’t know? Do you need me to spell it out for you? Fine, damn it, Chibi-chan--I love you. I always have, and probably always will. It’s always been you, since pretty much the day we met in middle school. But I never did anything because it was you, me, and Kenma, and I didn’t want to ruin anything.” He gently grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his face, his lips touching the back of your hand, ever so lightly, before continuing. “There wasn’t another girl, it was you. No matter how much I tried getting over you, I couldn’t remove you from my brain.” Noticing how silent you went, he stopped in his tracks, lowering your hand, still holding it. “Chibi-chan? Please say something.” His voice had softened, uncertainty coloring his tone.

Stunned, you just stared up at Kuroo, words failing you in that moment. Here he was, admitting his love for you, the moment that you had yearned for years. The floodgates opened, and, without thinking, you placed your hands on his face and pulled him in for a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, his arms slid around your, one hand gripping your waist, the other snaked around the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair. Your own hands slid down, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to get as close as possible. The kiss was gentle and slow, as if you were exploring each other the way you hadn’t before. The way his lips moved against yours caused your heart to beat faster than before. It felt like it had been ages before you pulled away, coming for air.

“Does that explain at least a fraction of what I feel?” You asked, biting your lip.

Kuroo let a devilish smile creep on his face. “Oh, just a fraction. Chibi-chan, I’m a little greedy, I’m gonna need the entire thing.” He slid his hands to your hips and pulled them closer to him. “That is, if you want me to show you how I feel.” You nodded your head, to which he leaned back in, his lips capturing yours, fiercely and passionately.

This kiss held nothing back. The tip of his tongue lightly swipes at your lips, begging for entry. Opening your mouth, he explores your mouth, pressing you against him. A small gasp escapes your mouth as you feel his lips move to your jawline and neck, his teeth ever so slightly grazing against your skin.

“Chibi-chan, you sure you want to go through with this? Because there’s no way I can hold back after this point,” he groaned near your ear.

“Tetsuro, don’t you dare hold back,” you hissed, biting your lip as you felt his hand reach up to your chest to feel you through your bra. “You have no idea how much I want this.”

“Oh yeah? So naughty, I didn’t know this side of you existed,” he chuckled, bringing his lips to your neck again. “Well, then, let me treat you right.” His lips make their way back to yours, tenderly, bringing his hands around you, he lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently kissing you all the while. As he reached the bed, he gently tosses you on it, before stripping off his shirt, jacket, and pants and climbing over on top of you. “I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me earlier. Like what you see?” He smirked down at you, his overly confident attitude turning you on even more. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but admire his body.

Kuroo brought a finger to your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down agonizingly slowly. You started to whine and shift your hips to shake them off. You could hear him chuckle, clicking his tongue. “So needy, Chibi-chan.” His fingers traced over the top of your panties, leaving you squirming. “Let’s see how long I can go before you start begging.”

Your breath hitched, your legs rubbing together, feeling your arousal growing. You sat up and stripped your shirt off, pulling Kuroo in for a quick kiss. He pulled away enough just to let his lips brush over yours, then sank in, bringing your bottom lip in between his teeth before letting go. He pushes you down, one hand near your panties, tracing the lines and getting tantalizingly close before pulling away; his lips going to your neck, gently biting and marking his way down before reaching your breasts. “Chibi-chan, I can feel you getting so wet, and I barely even touched you.” You moaned in response, trying to lift your hips to press against his hand, but you were met with the clicking of his tongue, telling you to be patient. He wrapped his arm around your back, unclasping the bra and pushing it up, bringing his lips to one breast. His tongue swirled around, his teeth gently touching the nipple, then moving to perform the same action to the other breast. “Oh, Chibi-chan, I have such plans for you, just you wait.”

He resumed his marking of your skin down your abdomen, one finger finally looping around your panties and sliding them down. “Well, look what we have here,” he said, bringing a finger to touch the slick left on your panties. “So, so wet for me.” You whined, gripping the bed sheets, not able to stand the teasing anymore.

“T-Tetsu, please.”

“Please what, Chibi-chan? Come on, use your words.” He started rubbing a finger ever so slowly along your fold. “I want to hear you beg for what you want.”

“I-I need you to fuck my cunt. Please, with something, anything!” You whined out. “Fuck please, I need you so bad.”

He brought his head down to your sex, the devilish grin back on his face. “Hmm, what a good girl you are. See, I knew I would have you begging so soon for me.”

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, making sure you wouldn’t leave, and dragged you to his mouth, his tongue starting to lick at your clit. You cried out, the sudden touch you’ve been craving for brought you close to the edge. He kept licking against you, adjusting his arms to slowly finger you, one digit, then another. “Mmm, good girl, my Chibi-chan, so close already. It’s alright, you can cum for me.”

“F-fuck,” was all you could manage to hiss out, your breathing growing ragged. “Just like that.” You felt your orgasm build up quickly, his tongue playing you just right. Your hand quickly flew to his head and you dug your fingers through his hair. Tears started to spring forth from your eyes, your legs started shaking, and then you felt the coil snap within you, and you climaxed right there.

“That’s a good girl, there you go.” He drew out your orgasm, removing his mouth and his fingers slowly. He dragged his coated fingers across his tongue, savoring your taste. “But we’re not done yet. You got any contraceptives?” You mumbled out something about your birth control, saying it’s taken care of.

He stripped off his boxers, letting his pretty cock spring free. He pumps it slowly a couple times, before lining himself at your entrance, slightly grinding. You bring your knees up, readying yourself. “Tetsu,” you whimpered.

“Yes, Chibi-chan? What is it, baby girl, talk to me,” his look grew slightly concerned.

“I love you.” You looked away, not being able to handle his reaction after that. You heard him chuckle before feeling his hand on your cheek, coaxing you to look up at him.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, tenderly. Leaning down to kiss your lips and neck softly, he sighed against your skin, then pulled away. Gripping your thighs, he pressed the tip at your entrance, causing a small moan to escape from you. “You ready for me?”

You nodded. “More than ready.”

“Fuck, that’s all I need.” And with that, he pushed himself into you slowly, groaning at the tight feeling of your walls surrounding him. You gripped the sheets, panting out his name as he stretched you. “Damn, you’re doing so good for me, keep taking it, my pretty girl.” He kept going slowly until he bottomed out, both of you moaning out. “That’s it. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You took a moment to adjust, nodding to let him know he could continue. Muttering a curse, he pulled back and started his thrusting at a slow pace. “Fuck, Tetsu, you feel so good.”

“That’s it, take my cock. Fuck, you’re so good to me,” he praised, hiking your leg above his shoulder, trying to hit you deeper, his hips driving in to you slightly faster, kissing that sweet spot within you, sending you higher and higher. “I want you to take my cock so deep that you can’t think of anything else.”

At that last statement, you cried out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You were still feeling sensitive from your first orgasm, but you were feeling your second build again. “Fuck, Tetsu, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

Kuroo leaned over you, his breathing ragged, nearing his end, bringing a finger to tease your clit. “Oh fuck, ‘m close, too. Come for me, call out my name. God, I love you so much, you’re doing so, hngh, so well for me. Where do you want me?”

“Fuck, I need you inside me.”

“Damn it, what you do to me.” Growling at how lewd you were, he dropped your leg and worked your clit slightly faster, leaning down and growling from the sight of you beneath him. He kept thrusting as he marked your neck and shoulder, licking them to soothe you, trying to keep the pace as best he could. Wrapping your legs around him, you chanted his name, crying out your orgasm, shuddering your high came and washed over you. Throwing your head back, your walls clenched around his cock, creaming around him, to which he hissed out a curse. “Fuck, ‘m c-cumming, Chibi-chan,” he panted, before he buried your cock deep inside, feeling his cock twitch as he came inside of you.

You fell limp on the bed, while he stayed above you, still inside of you, trying to catch your breath together. You stared at the sight of Kuroo above you, a small smile forming on your lips as you brought your hand up to his face and wiped the hair out of his face, admiring his beauty like this. He smiled down at you, his panting beginning to slow down, and then he rested on top of you, his head near your face.

“Fuck, I’m so happy,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.” He then slowly pulled out, groaning at the drag, as you arched your back, moaning at the sudden emptiness, feeling the cum drip from between your legs. You scooted off the bed and tried to stand, but your legs refused to work.

Kuroo rolled out of bed, immediately scooping you up. “Here we go princess, let’s go get cleaned up.”

After you both washed up, you plopped down on the bed, Kuroo sliding in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You heard him chuckle, and you gave him an inquiring look.

“I’m laughing because I don’t think Kenma meant this when he said I should grovel for your forgiveness,” Kuroo remarked. “If he asks, you tell him I got on my knees before you.”

You laughed, before leaning in to kiss him gently. “As if I’d pass up that opportunity.” You stared into his eyes, bringing a hand to his cheek, caressing it.

He brought you in close, kissing the top of your head. “I know we didn’t do this quite the right way,” he laughed, stroking your hair, “but would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“I wonder,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “I guess I’ll go out with you and spare the women of the world your horrible chemistry pick-up lines.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” he replied, his hand going to his heart. “But I’m glad. I’m so happy I have you now.” He leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly.

You smiled against his lips. “Well, I’m not letting you go either. For me, it’s always been you.”

#kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo x female reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 7.4

Author’s Note: I believe I’ll be doing a LIVE pulling for Xiao tonight around 7:45 PST. Join me if you want to see me cry from happiness or from not pulling him LOL. The link is in one of my previous posts. Before, during, or after this chapter, listen to this song to get a feel of what’s happening! https://youtu.be/ifQ3JRS4gqc

.....................

The voices never truly left you alone after that. You were practically becoming unhinged by the endless whispers that plagued your ears, and the quiet of night only seemed to egg them on further. When you were blessed with their silence, you were plagued the physical pains of the karmic debt and your depression from joining the harbingers. Childe was obviously growing more and more concerned with each passing day; you were beginning to freak him out. The Tsaritsa and the other harbingers, however, found great amusement in your...condition. It was a blessing in disguise; they were manipulating you much easier now that you were exhausted from the sleepless nights.

And it wasn't like you were constantly needing medical care, though you wished they would give you some heavy pain killers. No; whatever damage your body was burdened with would be repaired by morning thanks to Xiao's blood. The pain wasn't nearly as dramatic as the first wave, but it was a constant dull aching that ate away at your bones. Slowly but surely, the pains grew over time.

Xiao made his presence known to you only twice more; he showed himself in the late evenings for brief periods of time to quell your aching heart and mind. At least when he was able to be with you, the dreadful screams would disperse if only temporarily. At least when he was with you, you were granted sleep. Small waves of peace would reclaim you as Xiao watched over your sleeping figure.

But once Liyue's festivities were underway, Xiao's visits became nonexistent and your mind was once again thrown into deeper chaos while he fought off more demons. It was the busiest time of the year for both the inhabitants and the demonic presences of Liyue; it was Xiao's task to fend the latter off since the festivities attracted their attention and strengthened their presence. He felt you slowly shattering, and it hurt him to know he couldn't be with you as often as he wanted to.

One day out of the blue, over a month after you joined the Fatui, Childe approached you with a grand smile across his face. "Ojou-chan! Why don't I show you around Snezhnaya? It's much better than sitting in your room all day."

"...Aren't you always saying we could freeze to death?" Your unamused expression failed to hinder Childe's enthusiasm. "Why would I want to go outside?" The bags under your eyes spoke volumes about your continuous sleepless nights.

"Come on, Mezzetin, it'll be good for you. You could use the exercise."

"Are you implying something?" You're eyes narrowed dangerously, but Childe's grin only widened when your normal quips shone through your broken character.

"Well, if you ever feel the need to put me in my place, I'm more than willing to oblige to a fight," he watched your expression lighten for a moment before urging you. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Sheer cold wasn't an issue for this winter wasteland like it was on Dragonspine, but it had to be at least five times colder here. Childe made sure you were bundled up in a large furry coat before guiding you out of the castle and leading you to a town square that was surprisingly bustling with people despite the frigid temperatures. Stalls lined the streets. People gathered around to buy the freshest local food that included some incredibly large seafood varieties. Others were in line to buy trinkets, house decor, and a variety of other items.

"...A farmer's market?" Your cold breath of a remark caught Childe's attention, and he turned to you.

"Of course! Go ahead and look around. If there's anything you want, I'll buy it for you."

He's trying to cheer me up? You examined Childe's earnest demeanor as he eyed the fish stall with stars in his eyes. Can he just pick a side already?! You rolled your eyes. Still, might as well bankrupt him if he insists. You broke away from him and continued down the rows of stalls for awhile, unaware that the harbinger had rejoined you.

You were busy examining a few intriguing necklaces made of materials you haven't heard of when the whispers of the damned regained their voices. You staggered a bit only to be steadied by Childe's hand on your shoulder.

Childe noted your glowing eyes. "Happening again?" His genuine concern made you relieved that he wasn't a complete monster like the other harbingers. "If you need a break, there's a café over there that we can sit in." Your strained nod prompted him to guide you with a hand at the back of your shoulders.

"Hm?" A strange sound reached your ears, and this time it wasn't from inside your head. Your feet came to a halt before the two of you reached the building, and you tilted your head towards the sound.

It was a light and effortless tune that floated through the open air from yet another building. The melody was slow to build, yet you hung onto its every note. It took you a moment to realize that it calmed the demonic voices from screams to hushed murmurs. You followed the path of the sounds until you found yourself in an extremely outdated music shop.

"Mezzetin?" Childe attempted to regain your attention as he followed after you. He caught onto the childlike wonder glistening in your teary eyes. "Care to explain?"

"The pain..." a tear fell. "It's subsiding." You continued to stare at the harpist that played her tune at the back of the shop, eyes never leaving the fingers that plucked the strings. The voices were gone, and now you were only overwhelmed with a sense of peace.

Childe watched you silently listen to the music for a long while. An idea struck him. "Have you ever played?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daze and wiped the tears away. "Um...Granny used to play a lot when I was little. I know a couple tunes, but--" Childe walked to the shop owner without letting you finish, pulling out a large sack of mora while he was at it. "H-hey! What're you doing?"

"If it brings you happiness, then I don't see the problem in buying it," Childe argued back after he had purchased the most expensive harp in the shop and left a considerate tip. The two of you were walking back to the palace now. He had ordered for his subordinates to take the instrument back with them.

"But I haven't played in years! And I said I only knew a few simple tunes--"

"--Then I will ensure you receive lessons." He was not going to budge on this, and he made it obvious with his firm gaze. "The rest of the harbingers made it clear that they do not care for your wellbeing, but I do. Think of this as a gift and a type of therapy. You've been down ever since Xiao left you--"

"I left him," you corrected. And I so regret my decision.

"I'm just trying to prove that you aren't in a prison anymore. If you want to see it as that, then by all means, continue to be depressed. But something tells me you want to see Xiao again and find a way with him, no?"

"...Right."

"Then at the very least accept my apology gift to you."

"Huh? Apology?" You gave him a questioning look, but he either didn't hear you or elected to ignore you.

......................................

Xiao was being as antisocial as ever, but it's not like he would ever turn down an invitation for tea from Rex Lapis himself. Here he was, sitting just outside of Wangshu Inn with his master in the bright of day. Aether probably put the archon up to the task considering how Xiao pushed him away what felt like ages ago, but the yaksha decided to give Zhongli the time of day only because of his deep respect for his savior.

"I've also brought more pain killers," Zhongli handed the yaksha a small jar of other-worldly medicines as he continued to fill him in on the upcoming Lantern Rite. He had yet to bring you into the conversation, most likely to avoid irritating the throbbing wound in Xiao's chest.

"Mm." Xiao gladly accepted the medication and set it aside. This ensured yet another lull in their conversations.

"Will you go this year?" Zhongli sipped at his tea. "To the Lantern Rite?"

"My presence would only hinder the festival. Besides, I'm not great with crowds." The yaksha had yet to meet the archon's eyes, and kept his gaze firm on the teacup in front of him. Truth be told, he would have gone this year...with you, since it was you who had asked him. But now that these circumstances have come to pass, why should he go? "It's just another excuse for humans to discard their trash into the ocean." Why should he go when it would only remind him of his failure to keep you at his side?

Zhongli narrowed his eyes as he pondered whether words of comfort would aid his yaksha. "It would be good for you to experience something new after all your years of living."

"I already have," Xiao clenched his jaw, signaling that the topic was beginning to walk on thin ice. "She--"

"--Is not dead," Zhongli reminded. "Do not mourn for a loss that has not occurred."

"But she's dying," he argued back, finally releasing the emotions he's pent up ever since they left you. Zhongli's look of confusion prompted him to continue. "She can feel the karmic debt bestowed upon me."

"When did this begin?" The archon's usual reserved composure faltered slightly while his eyes widened.

"A month ago. I visited her; she can hear the voices of the damned. She's been in physical and mental pain ever since."

"The bond..." Zhongli set his teacup down a bit abruptly as he thought to himself. "It appears these side effects grow stronger in the other's absence. How intriguing..."

"How do we discard them? Is there a way?"

"Have you not interpreted my words in Qingce Village all along? Or my words at the Dawn Winery? I've already given you the means to act, Xiao."

--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave... Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table. "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"

"She's done her part, now it is your turn," he straightened. "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all. If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive. Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."

Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby. "Tch. How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position. Another sound reached his ears, but he neglected to react to it. The notes are off.

Zhongli didn't question Xiao's sudden alertness, but that didn't take away from the fact that yet another side effect has revealed itself to the archon. It appeared as though the yaksha was already aware of this side effect.

And man, did this one annoy Xiao the most. He heard the most random of tunes and chords at the most random of times. It would even jolt him awake when he managed to fall asleep on rare nights. It wasn't all unpleasant though; there were times in which the melody struck all the right notes and the result was a beautiful thirty second song before it was gloriously ruined by the musician's hesitance or embarrassment.

He knew it was you. Your constant need to practice was as pestering as your old daily prayers before he revealed to you that he could hear them. At least he only sometimes heard the plucking of strings. As pesky and invasive as it was, your insistence upon playing what Xiao only assumed was a lyre somehow brought a bit of joy to his heart. It meant that you were doing better than the last time he saw you.

He just wished he could hear the end result and not your sloppy practice sessions.

........................

Only on the eve of the Lantern Rite, several days before the celebration, did he come to appreciate the hours of hard work you were putting into practicing the music.

You had locked yourself in your room again after watching the failed experiments Dottore had forced you to witness. How many did you see die today? Fifty? He clearly needed to adjust the ratio of your blood to whatever else he had in that serum he developed. What was worse was that you were beginning to become desensitized to the loss of human life; amused by it, even. Just as the Tsaritsa wanted. Sometime into the fortieth treatment, your pains grew stronger as did the voices of the slain daemons.

You retreated to your room, relieved that Childe had for once allowed you to be without his presence. You sat yourself next to the window and allowed for the evening light to illuminate the music sheets the harbinger had bought for you. Your fingers grazed lightly over the strings as the voices continued to grow louder, absently plucking one of them to ensure that you still had full control over your slightly twitching limbs. You had nearly snapped the strings last time the voices overwhelmed you--

There's no time nor need to reminisce those incidents. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and began to play, the smooth vibrations of the harp humming against your chest and shoulder as the strings were struck. Unlike your practice sessions, your hands glided over the strings from one position to the next like you had played for a thousand years. No hesitation could be felt from the chords. Finally, it seemed as though you mastered this song.

Xiao. I miss you...your warmth...your embrace... Your infested thoughts soon cleared as your mind drifted to an image of him. I wonder if he too finds comfort in music when the voices overwhelm him? For you knew that when the voices grew louder, he too, was subject to them. The music overcame the screaming daemons, and you were relieved with a sense of peace. Your fingers continued to play through the music and repeated the song for as many times as you felt fit. Your aching limbs continued to throb, but you didn't let that stop you from playing. Your mind now clear as water, you poured your longing for Xiao into your music. You hummed the melody as you played.

One day you'll find your way back to him, or him to you. Was it okay to allow yourself to believe in the possibility that he held the same feelings for you? Did he love you? No--Could he? It was already naïve enough to think he was capable of harboring such intimate feelings after living through hell for over two thousand years. And even if he did, it's not like you'd live as long as he has. Would he push me away again? You shoved that thought out of your mind with another series of chords.

You wouldn't be able to put an end to your feelings no matter what he did. He was too admirable, too strong, too strict, too beautiful. He was too kind, even if he put up a front. You loved him too much; perhaps that would end in your own downfall just as Childe predicted and beat into your head every day, but that was alright with you. If the voices were to eat away at you until all that remained were ashes, you were okay with being true to yourself until the very end. Even if he never thought of you as something more than a companion. And as you thought of him, the longing to be reunited swelled within your chest and overflowed into your fingers.

Your song was your unspoken prayer, your love and dedication were your offerings.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao #xiao fanfiction #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao

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gaawachan · 3 years

Text

Discord Convo: Yasha, Essek, Culture, Shadowgast Ramblings

Me: Man I wish Essek and Yasha could have - nvm I'll finish that thought later.

Sibling: I KNOW. I ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY AND I WISH YASHA HAD BEEN MORE PRESENT IN THE STORY

Me: Stop doing the hive mind thing. it's invasive. i feel violated.

Sibling: I can't help it.

Me: But yeah Essek and Yasha. I find it very interesting because there's actually a lot of crossover in their temperaments, but in terms of physical presentation, they couldn't be more different. They both came from completely different sub-cultures in Xhorhas, and it's like... that temperament among the Rosohna Drow. It makes me think that they learned how to like... Okay hang on this is hard to put into words... Right so from a meta perspective, it reads like Matt took Yasha's basic temperament and applied it to other people of Xhorhas. Like Yasha was a broader expression of typical mannerisms of Xhorhas (except that Yasha was no longer bound by the modesty of the cultures there, and having been exposed to Molly, was freer with her sexuality after it was stifled in the Wastes in her youth). Right? So with that thought in mind, look at Essek. Essek doesn't have the same trauma Yasha has so he doesn't have the same sort of dysfunctions, but when you first meet Yasha, she does display a casual arrogance/confidence about her power, and Essek has the temperament, but what he lacks is the freedom from modesty. He's extremely withdrawn.

Sibling: Are you saying he's going to become an e-boy? Because there's no promises that under that cloak, he isn't already one lmaoooo

Me: Well, I think it's interesting because this is actually one underrated area where I think Caleb would actually be really good for him and vice versa. It also says a lot about the odd intersections of culture in Xhorhas, because in old drow society, sex was uh... you know, let's not go into that.

Sibling: Just all of the nasty tags from AO3

Me: but my point is that it makes sense that the Kryn dynasty would be heavily influenced by and adopt a lot of the mannerisms and cultural relations from the people of Xhorhas because... they would be trying to distance themselves from the violence of their past by integrating stuff from the cultures they colonized. It makes sense that maybe the nomads of the wastes would impact their mannerisms and dynamics, though you can see echos of old drow culture in the dynasty, of course, with the dens and all.

Sibling: They're doing what the pirates from Wind Waker did once they found New Hyrule lol. "Yes, oh yes. We love technology"

Me: Yeah. So anyway, Yasha and Essek would have been interesting to have more interactions with.

Sibling: I mean, both are good characters? They just didn't have a lot of screentime, and it didn't really seem like Ashley was super interested in exploring her past. It doesn't help that Yasha was essentially silent for all major character interactions lol.

Me: They are both socially awkward, with casual confidence in their skills, and somewhat similar mannerisms, but Essek is very modest but manipulative, and Yasha is very upfront/blunt, and both of them have the guilt thing going on. Going back to Essek and Caleb. I think that their immediate positive effects on each other are obvious, but on this topic specifically... Caleb's only ever hesitant with his affection because of his trauma, really. You get the distinct impression that he used to be a lot more touchy feely (just look at his early game dynamic with Nott), and while he is usually very polite, he has no problem with being blunt about his sexuality when he thinks he can get away with it. At the same time, Caleb's history with sex and relationships is really twisted and complicated, so he needs a partner who is respectful of boundaries and willing to check what is going on at any given time. In other words, he needs someone who is not like Molly (no offense to widomauk shippers).

Sibling: I mean, that was the primary problem with Molly. They had no sense of boundaries and that was good for someone like Yasha. Not so much for people with trauma related to lack of boundaries.

Me: (text dump) No, Molly DID have a sense of boundaries; they deliberately crossed them in order to make people uncomfortable. THAT was my biggest problem with Molly. Molly knew exactly what they were doing. Taliesin said as much. It's why I never shipped widomauk, because it’s yet another relationship where casual disregard for Caleb's comfort is present. It's why if I had shipped Caleb with anyone other than Essek, it would have been Fjord or Caduceus (but he's a disinterested ace and I respect that) or Yasha (but she's gay and I respect that) simply because they were clearly the ones who appeared most cognizant of Caleb's social comfort levels and such (so basically widofjord is what I'm saying, lol). This isn’t a widomauk hate thing; it’s just not to my taste because I relate too much to hating having my personal boundaries deliberately treated with disrespect. That's going off on a tangent, though.

Essek, in contrast, needs someone who he can let his hair down with comfortably. Essek seems to only really feel that way around Caleb and Jester. Caleb's the only one Essek really initiates touch with. Caleb's the one who gets Essek to swear for the first time, like Caleb swearing gave Essek permission to do the same just for the hell of it. Caleb and Jester, more than the others, made it clear that he's allowed to be goofy when he's with them. The two of them joking around with Immovable Object (and Caleb openly participating in that clownery with Seeming and such when he and Essek have so much in common) makes Essek feel comfortable with exploring not having a stick up his ass 24/7, which is exactly what a clearly extremely repressed person like Essek could benefit from in a partner, a person who he can relax around and vent with, because he's very obviously never had that before, or at least not consistently. And how did he get to that point?

It's from a thing about Caleb that is extremely underrated. Caleb, be it from his natural personality or that coupled with his training, knows the value of being openly vulnerable. It's very clearly NOT something that Trent specifically taught him. Caleb recognizes that the best way to manipulate people is to be sweet and earnest and awkward and TRUTHFUL about his beliefs and vulnerabilities, but this pays off in ways unintended. Caleb expects it to just be transactional, but people end up genuinely forming bonds with him because of it, and what's more, that he does that with such regularity results in other people responding in kind (which is the goal). Someone as reserved as Essek could only stand to be vulnerable BECAUSE Caleb made HIMSELF vulnerable first. I think the best thing Liam ever did for Shadowgast was make it clear that everything he said to Essek may have been manipulative... but every word of it was also true, because Essek is clever enough to recognize that honesty.

The most underrated line in Essek's growth as a person doesn't even come from Essek, and it doesn't come from Caleb talking to Essek. I think people forget about this, but during the final conversation with the scourger, which Essek was present for... the scourger asks Caleb why he's bothering with her. And Caleb says (paraphrasing) "I think that I hoped if I could see one hint of change from you, I could believe that we aren't both damned." Imagine being Essek and hearing that. It recontextualizes everything about Essek's growth. The rapid change between the boat scene and Aeor isn't just because Essek wants to be a better person. It's because he wants to prove to Caleb that Caleb isn't damned, because no one has ever done that for Caleb. Caleb is so obviously drowning in his past during the Aeor arc. That sort of hope is something he desperately needed. It's one of the few things about the Aeor arc that isn't botched by the rush to end the series; Essek's consistent determination to be a positive influence on Caleb, for Caleb, was gold from start to finish. Remember too that by the time of the boat scene, Caleb had already met with Astrid and had that disheartening conversation. Essek's efforts to become a better person feel like he's trying to almost unknowingly undo the damage that the recent interactions with Astrid and Trent had done to Caleb's psyche.

... tldr, Caleb is going to teach Essek how to be a manslut... in private... jk but not really.

Sibling: I SAID THAT EBOY ESSEK LOL! Ugh... that final epilogue screwing over my favorite MLM ship... It's not canon. They went and made their own school, and lived forever in disguises to keep the scourgers coming after them.

*That was the end of this part of the conversation. On reflection, I ought to have noted that Essek’s modesty might not be so much a cultural thing as it is an “Essek trying to keep people away from him like a prickly porcupine” thing, but you never know. If it is cultural, that may be the result of the dynasty trying to distance themselves to the practices of those who worship Lolth, but I don’t know that Exandria lore has ever said anything about this? And if it is a cultural thing, is it limited to the nobility, like Essek? One could also argue that the cultural practices of Yasha’s people, with the arranged marriages and such, may have influenced the dynasty’s own cultural formation, but I feel like I didn’t make that clear enough? Anyway, that’s why it’s a ramble.

#critical role #critrole #critical role spoilers #critrole spoilers #shadowgast #essek thelyss #yasha nydoorin #caleb widogast

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Together under the moon

Pairing: Oz x male!werewolf!reader

Request: could I request something for oz? enthusiastic male reader who is mayhaps also a werewolf and has been for him for a while and finally gets the guts to confess to him! whether its fluff or not idc bc I'm a sucker or fluff and angst but i rlly enjoy your work so thank you for seeing this!!!

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Oz gets a little hurt. But nothing is described.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Thanks for your patience, hope this is okay !! 💜🖤

You had loved him for as long as you could remember now. You had been friends for so long but these feelings that you harboured in private you just weren’t ready to share. You didn’t want to lose the close relationship you already had.

You were completely, blissfully head over heels for him. Oz. He acted so cool and unaffected, but you knew that he had such a sweet and kind soul.

And he got you, like he really got you. He was a werewolf like you.

Becoming a werewolf had never really been on your bucket list. You had been bitten one evening when you had taken a misguided walk after dark. It had devastated you at first. You had confided in him, knowing already that he was a werewolf too. He had helped you adjust. Pulled you into a hug when you thought you couldn’t go on that way any longer. It had near-broken his heart when he saw you that way. You were usually so enthusiastic and sweet.

You had been worried when you thought he was graduating, wishing that you could still see him every day. Spend all your time together. In comfortable silence and others with you chattering, gushing over your interests. Him encouraging you softly. He near melted for you. So, when you found out he was re-doing the year you were secretly so pleased.

You were the reason he realised he was attracted to men. He had just gone ‘huh’ and shrugged when he realised and just accepted that he liked you. Only now, it was hard for him to actually verbalise his affection for you.

He found expressing his earnest feelings harder despite how often he tried. He would open his mouth, ready to confess how much he wanted you to be his boyfriend. But then you would look up form what you were doing and make his words fade back into nothing.

It was afternoon and you and Oz had a free period together. You loved this time of day because you could spend it just you and him. You rush into the library, a whirlwind of enthusiasm as you sat beside him and waved a little. He began to smile in that wry way he would when you made your presence known to him.

You had run in, gushing over everything that had happened and excited you in the last few hours since you saw him. He listened closely, he always did when you spoke. Even when he wasn’t as invested in the topic as you were, he always loved hearing your infectious excitement.

“Cool, man, very cool” He nodded. He adored you. Your enthusiastic nature was incredibly endearing to him. He wanted to spend all of his time with you.

“What’re you working on?” You asked, a smile tugged at his lips again. When you asked questions you were always genuinely interested in the reply. Ready to hang onto every word. You were special to him.

“Another song - for tonight. We thought as a band we’d give the whole gig thing a go”

“Nice! Are you gonna play ‘Together under the moon’?!” You couldn’t hold yourself back from gushing, that song was one of your favourites by Dingoes. Saying that, you did claim this about all the songs they played.

“Yeah, it’s on the setlist” Oz shrugged a little but his face always softened when he was talking to you. In a way it never did with anyone else, no matter how fond of them he was.

“You’re super talented! You say you wrote that one by yourself?” You praised him, missing the slight blush tinging his complexion as you laid such kind words upon him. He began to open his mouth to speak, to explain his inspiration behind it.

But he was interrupted as everyone else rushed into the library, their faces were solemn.

Giles explained that there was a wolf hunter in town. A really cruel one, his speciality was hunting werewolves while they were human, catching them and hunting them for sport later. It made everyone in the room’s blood run cold. Especially yours and Oz’s. You weren’t only worried about yourselves, but the idea of the other getting taken this way. It was horrible to even think about it.

There was a tenuous plan, whereby Giles suggested that you would have to wait it out until research told you otherwise. The group split into two halves so that you and Oz were split up and the others can provide back up. That way, if the hunter came across one of you, he wasn’t able to potentially capture the both of you at the same time.

You were both incredibly important parts of the Scooby gang so everyone nodded along to this plan, wanting to assist you both the best they could.

You didn’t want to be separated from him and the lingering gaze he gave you told you that he didn’t want to part from you either. He loved you, wanted to be there with you. Even if neither of you had spoken on it, in this moment somehow you knew. Even if you were still nervous to act on it.

Oz left you in the care of Willow and Giles. You were nervous, pacing and wringing your hands. You had so much nervous energy. The further he was away from you the harder it felt. You couldn’t bear being away from him.

You eventually sat down, leg bouncing still but you had appeared to calm down a little.

“You should tell him, you know…” Willow said kindly, watching how your gaze was still on the door from where Oz and the others had left through.

“What?” You asked. You were fond of Willow, she had been very nice to you ever since you had come out to her. She understood, maybe even more than she comprehended herself.

“U-uh, you and Oz with the softness and the heart-eyes” She murmured a little, faltering as she realised she could have gotten it wrong. But you smiled at her.

“Is it obvious?”

“Only to people with eyes” She said, although she was smiling. Trying to distract you from your worry. To give you something to hold on to. Telling him how you felt.

You appreciated her friendship and her encouragement. You felt Oz’s eyes on you when you were in the same room. You dared to hope he felt the same, just like how you had read his expression earlier. His innate need to be by your side. Because you felt it too.

But you often second-guessed yourself. You could have been projecting your own feelings. But hearing this from Will just confirmed it. Your love was shared.

The sun had set and it was early evening. You were still in the library with your minders. Willow was practicing a few spells just in case the hunter came your way. Just as she whispered a few practice incantations there was a massive bang at the door.

All three of you jumped, looking up. Hoping it had been Willow’s spell gone wrong and not worse.

Buffy and Xander ran in, turning your fears true. It was Oz. The hunter had managed to take him. Buffy was limping, holding her side. You didn’t blame her. you thanked her for protecting him the best you could. But you got angry yourself. Because it was him.

Your usual demeanour changed. Had an edge to it. You were kind-hearted and near wholesome for the most part but not now. Not when he was in danger. His heart called out to you. His cries. You felt it in your very soul.

You ran to where Buffy had said that it had happened. They warned you against it, tried to stop you but you just ran. As fast as your legs could take you. Through the thick undergrowth and past crumbling cemetery plots.

You saw blood. A trail of it. Leading towards the abandoned warehouse on the corner. You couldn’t not follow it, despite your instinct telling you it was going to be bad.

You felt this pull. This need for you to follow the path. The path to him.

You ran into the room, spotting him immediately. He had gotten away. Managed to release himself from the hunter’s grip but not without being hurt in the process. He had

“Oz!” You shouted, voice echoing around the abandoned warehouse. He was crouched on the floor holding his side.

“God, Oz, are you okay?!” You ran full speed over to him kneeling beside him, “I couldn’t stay away, I came as soon as I could!” You explained, your touch gentle with him, expecting the damage. You lifted his shirt up gently. Luckily it was a surface wound but you would patch him up once you got him back to your place. You explained this to him.

“It’s ok” He shook his head at you, his hand resting over yours as you let go of his t-shirt, “I knew you were there with me”

“Yeah?”

“We’re always together under the moon” He said, wincing slightly after the fight he had put up against the hunter. The song. It was about you.

You gasped, whispering feelings that had only been allowed the release in this moment. You cupped his cheek, eyes staring into the other’s.

You needed to leave, before the hunter tracked his blood the way he had. Your werewolf instincts made it easier, but it was only a matter of time.

But before you helped him to his feet, took his weight and helped him back to yours, there was something you had to do. It had been building between you for so long. You knew so completely that he was yours. Wanted you to be his. You just had to.

You kissed him. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You had almost lost him. Your lips met his and he responded immediately. Pulling you closer, the scratch forgotten with his innate need for you. Instinctual yearning. Love. All of it. In that moment, neither of you knew where he ended and you began. You were connected. Soulmates. This kiss, passionate and full of urgency told you everything. Confessed all. As if you could read the other’s thoughts. The wolves inside you that had been calling for so long for the other took over.

This was no mere lust. Both of you with this kiss weaved stories of love. Of adoration. Desperation to name this feeling.

You were destined to be together, hold each other this way. To love him was as easy as breathing and as soon as you thought it, he knew.

From that moment, you truly would always be together. Connected by love. The moon blessing your union.

#Oz #Daniel Osbourne #Oz x reader #Oz imagine #Oz x you #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs x you #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #buffyverse #male reader #male #werewolf reader #wolf

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

Text

Spells and Sneezes

I needed to try some Fantasy sickfic, and also practice my “stuffy talk”, so have ~3700 words of a very sneezy, stuffed up sorcerer. This post was inspired by a prompt I saw from this site long ago about a tall, thin, sneezy warlock, but I can’t find that post again to link it to save my life. So generic thanks to whoever came up with the prompt!

“Hehhtt’SSCCHHEEEWW!!

The tickle he thought he’d stifled exploded out of him unexpectedly as a massive, wet sneeze. The tall, young sorcerer groaned and wiped his dripping nose wearily with an already sodden handkerchief. His entire workbench was now covered in the spray. He sighed dejectedly, glancing out the window, the weak afternoon sunlight offering little comfort.

He had been stuck on this spell for days now, and the deadline was fast approaching. And this wasn’t just any order, this was for the KING. He was preparing to wage war and was looking for chainmail woven with a defense spell for 3,000 of his top officers. The king had chosen him to fill this order because defense spells had been his specialty during his apprenticeship, but for some reason this powerful chain was toying with him. If he could get just one prototype together, making the rest would be the work of a day. But he had not been able to make even one yet.

He groaned again, wincing as he continued to wipe his raw, dripping nose. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His eyes hurt. His chest hurt from all the coughing he’d been doing. But he couldn’t rest until this was done.

He summoned the chair he had shoved aside a few minutes ago. Neither sitting nor standing seemed to help him concentrate better, so he kept going back and forth. He leaned his head in his hand and picked up his quill again, scratching sigils fruitlessly.

A merry knock startled him and he leapt to his feet, his lithe frame quivering. For a moment he imagined it was the king’s advisors coming to collect the spell a week early. Instead, his younger sister poked her head in, waving cheerily.

“Brother, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost! Did I startle you? I’m sorry. It has been some weeks since I’ve seen you, and I wanted to check on you.”

She bustled in, her cleaning cart clattering behind her and parking itself by the door. Elliamina was a kitchen witch, and renowned throughout the land for her cleaning abilities, especially for never having an apprenticeship of her own. She had helped her older brother with his studies, being the more studious of the two, and had picked up some knowledge of her own, enough to make her own way in the world without formal training.

She danced over, wrapping her arms around him warmly. She was almost a meter shorter than him, but otherwise they were nearly identical, though there was a 5 year span between them. The length of their hair was the only difference. Elmrador weakly returned her hug, his heart still pounding.

“Good to see you, Mina. I have missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you, but I’ve been quite busy with orders of late. I can’t visit long today though. I have much work to do.”

“Well, at least let me give your cottage a quick tidy while I’m here.” She stepped back and surveyed him, cocking her head. “You are ill, brother.” Her mouth immediately quirked down sadly.

It was a statement, not a question. He also frowned. “I am fine.”

As if only to betray him, a hoarse coughing fit snuck up on him, leaving him red and breathless. He rubbed his chest ruefully. “Or at any rate, I don’t need you fussing. I need to finish this order. It’s for the king.”

“Hm.” She looked at him skeptically. “I have the supplies to make a tonic for you. Let me give you that at least. You look miserable.”

He grunted his approval. “As long as you don’t mix it with a sleeping draught.”

“If that's what you want,” she said, rolling her eyes. She flitted back to her cart and began to mix up a simple potion. Meanwhile, he seated himself again and resumed his scribbling. Another dratted tickle was growing in his nose though, which was streaming in earnest. He mopped the drips, to no avail.

“Ah… ah… Ahhkkt’shoooooo!” His handkerchief caught only part of the spray due to how sodden and crumpled it was, and his workbench was once again covered. Mina was at his side in a moment, rubbing his back.

“Poor dear! Elm, you sound awful. You should be in bed.”

“As soon as I work this through.”

She sighed and shook her head, handing him the steaming tonic. He took it with a grateful smile and gulped it down before taking up his quill again, rubbing his hands together to warm them before he did.

Seeing he didn’t intend to chat further, she began to clean his one room cottage. It was all he needed, just the right amount of space. He kept it cozy and neat for the most part, but when he was busy, cleaning was the last thing on his mind, which is one of the reasons she liked to visit often. She genuinely loved cleaning, especially for people she cared about. She began at the ceiling, sweeping down cobwebs and dusting the corners as she sang to herself. Elm personally thought her singing was a big component of her magic, though she denied it.

After the ceiling, she moved to the walls and cupboards. Elm found himself watching her idly rather than working. He turned back to his papers, shaking his throbbing head, trying to clear it. The tonic seemed to be affecting his fever. He had previously been shivering in the warm room, but now he was starting to sweat. The congestion seemed to be leaving his chest but was streaming out of his nose in earnest.

He didn’t know where his other handkerchiefs were, so he kept using the current one, but it was getting less and less effective as his sniffles got wetter and wetter. It wasn’t long before he started sneezing, both from his overactive nose, and the dust his sister was creating.

“Errr’sssHUUH! ErrrRIESSH’shew! Ehhhkxxt’SHEEEWW!”

Mina threw down her duster in exasperation. “I don’t know how you can stand to keep working. *I* can hardly work with you like this!”

He shrugged petulantly, rubbing his red nose. “Well, if you weren’dt kickig ub so mbuch dusdt…”

“Oh! Is the tonic not helping? It shouldn’t make you sound like that.”

“Idt helped the cough. Bud idt mbade mby ndose worse,” he mumbled weakly.

She rolled her eyes. “That tonic works on everyone else, except stubborn sorcerers. I bet your magic is going haywire and counteracting it. Especially without the sleeping effect.”

“Thadt’s ndot mby fauldt.” He shivered and coughed softly, summoning a blanket to wrap around his shoulders as he was suddenly freezing instead of sweating.

She sighed and moved to his side again, rubbing his back some more. He leaned against her wearily.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Ndo. I worgk best adt ndight.”

“Poor dear. You’re exhausted. No wonder you’re ill. What has got you so worked up?”

She glanced at the papers spread before him. “Chainmail woven with defense? Clever. Lucky you, getting an interesting project like this.”

“Idt’s driving mbe to distraction. I can’dt quide sordt it oudt.”

Her sharp eyes roved over the parchment quickly. “Your writing is terrible when you’re ill. I can hardly make it out. Ah, but here’s one of the reasons you're having trouble--half of these sigils appear to be reversed. See these here? They’re meaningless. Don’t tell me you’ve been working with them like this?”

He groaned pathetically. “They weren’dt like thadt whend I wrote themb! I ndo they weren’dt!”

She reached out and tried to feel his forehead. He batted her hand away before she could. She frowned.

“You know your magic is unpredictable when something is wrong with you, brother. My guess is you sneezed on these and they reversed themselves. You’re positively crackling with stray mana. Not to mention you’re probably feverish. You need to take some rest.”

“I can’dt. I have to deliver 3,000 of these in a weegk’s time, and I haven’dt even godden one yedt.”

“You’re not being productive like this though.”

“Ndeither are you. I thoughdt you were cleanig.”

She swatted him playfully. “See to yourself first, Elmrador, before you worry about me.”

Shaking her head, she reluctantly went back to her cleaning. The thin sorcerer directed his gaze back to his work, slowly fixing the reversed sigils, but he couldn’t get his eyes to stay in focus. They were so heavy. Everything was blurred around the edges.

His head was overwhelmingly heavy too, and achingly throbbing. He let it drop to the workbench, the cool wood pleasant on his hot forehead. He let his mouth hang open and tried to breathe, letting his nose drip gently into his handkerchief.

He must have dozed off, because Elliamina’s touch startled him some moments later. He turned to look at her, his cheek still on the bench.

“Why are you fighting yourself? You’re no good to anyone like this. The project can wait.”

“Will you mbake mbe some tea?” he asked pitifully, changing the subject.

She rubbed his back, surveying him keenly. “I’ll make you some tea if you take it in bed.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, slowly pulling the blanket closer to himself as he rose and shuffled to the corner where his bed stood. He clumsily discarded his outer tunic and boots as he went, kicking them aside before falling onto the mattress and heaping blankets and pillows over himself, dozing immediately. His sister busied herself boiling the water and preparing the tea leaves.

When it was ready, she shook him awake again and helped him sit up.

“I can do idt mbyself,” he muttered, shaking her off.

“You’re worn out enough,” she chided gently. “So let me help.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The tea was sweet and hot, the perfect temperature to start drinking immediately. But naturally, the warm liquid made his nose stream in earnest. His sister had been fussing around, fluffing his pillows and picking up his discarded clothes. When she noticed his sodden handkerchief, long past its usefulness, she quickly summoned another. He took it with a grateful smile, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his watery eyes. He blew his nose several times, but his sinuses were stopped tight, and blowing just made his head throb terribly.

Once the tea was gone and he had finally stopped shivering, he felt he couldn't keep his eyes open for another minute. He fell back into the bed as Elliamina dimmed the lights and covered him warmly.

Mina watched as he seemed to slip into a doze immediately. After a moment, she returned to her cleaning. She had made up her mind that she would stay here with him until he was over the worst of this. And since she would be here for a while, she had decided she would scour his cottage from top to bottom.

However, her brother couldn't seem to settle. He tossed and turned, coughing more and more often, the most awful-sounding fits. Finally he rolled over and opened his eyes, looking at her pitifully.

"I can'dt sleebp," he croaked. "First I'mb sweatig, then I'mb freezig. And I can'dt breathe for the coughig."

She clicked her tongue, coming to his side. She felt his forehead and cheeks, and this time he let her, leaning his head into her hand.

“You are so warm, Elm,” she tutted, brushing the sweaty hair off of his brow. “Would you like me to make you another tonic, a stronger one to help you sleep?”

He hesitated, then nodded miserably.

“Just a moment, then.” She trotted to her cart, ingredients flying to her hands before she had even reached it. She made a potion double the strength of the first one, with a strong dash of sleeping draught. Turning, she made her way back to the bed with the steaming mug as her brother once more struggled into a sitting position, hindered by another coughing fit.

He swallowed the mixture in a few gulps, grimacing, whether from the taste or his sore throat, she wasn’t sure. Then, she helped him lie back yet again, propping him up with pillows so he could breathe easier. The process seemed to wear him out. His eyes drifted closed immediately.

Elliamina tucked him in, straightening the blankets around him. He mumbled something incoherent as sleep overcame him.

“What did you say?”

“Stay with mbe,” he mumbled, his wheezy exhale turning into a snore.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she whispered, though she knew he did not hear.

Elliamina spent the rest of the evening puttering around, finishing her deep scour, making soup for when her brother woke, tending to his garden, and other domestic things that she had helped him with since they were children. She gave special attention to his workbench. She cleaned it and sanitized it thoroughly, even using a special cleansing spell on the parchment he had been working on. Sure enough, as soon as it was clean, she saw many of the sigils reverse themselves to what they should be. With a little smile, she replaced the papers where she had found them. Meanwhile, the tonic did its job admirably; Elmrador hardly moved, and he was breathing much easier. The only sound he made for many hours was soft, even snoring.

Evening turned into night. Mina was an early sleeper and early riser. As soon as the sun was down, she made a little nest for herself with extra blankets and pillows on the freshly scoured floor in front of the fireplace. She was weary from her day’s efforts, and dropped off to sleep without any effort, expecting her brother to sleep soundly through the night as well.

Imagine her surprise when she was awakened by him jumping out of bed in the middle of the night and running to his workbench, lighting candles hastily as he went. He banged down into his desk chair, picked up his quill, and began scribbling furiously, muttering to himself.

“Elm? What ails you?” she yawned, getting to her feet and wrapping her shawl around herself to go stand at his side, feeling his forehead. His temperature seemed almost normal, though his cheeks were flushed. He paid her no mind.

“The spell. It came to me in my sleep. I know what I was missing.” He sniffled wetly, wiping his sleeve under his nose, but continued scribbling away.

“I shan’t try to reason with you, since you’re so determined, though I wonder how you’re awake at all for how strong that tonic was. I don’t want to imagine the state you’ll be in in the morning.” She sighed softly. He seemed fine for now, but the tonic could only mask symptoms for so long.

With a shrug, she shuffled back to her nest. As she went, she mumbled: “Fates help you if you wake me again, though.” In front of the fire once more, she burrowed into her blankets, and was quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his quill and his muttering.

It was a harsh cough that woke her again in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, but not hers. She yawned and stretched luxuriously. For a moment she forgot where she was, until a wet sneeze made her turn.

Elmrador was just as she had left him the night before, hunched over his workbench. Spread out all around him were what appeared to be hundreds of chain shirts, and more were in the process of being finished. However, her brother looked more asleep than awake as he worked. Harsh, dark circles ringed his eyes, vivid against his pallor, as was his raw, chapped nose. Just as she noted this, the nose disappeared into his handkerchief .

“Hrrr’RUSH’eeww! Ahh’NNXGH’shuuh!”

“Oh Elm,” she murmured fondly. “You are in quite a state now, aren’t you?”

“Mbina… Good mornig. Loogk, I fidished mby prototype. Idt’s mby best worgk, I thingk.”

“It had better be, for you to be working as ill as you areYou look awful. You ought to go back to bed right away.”

“Id a few mbinutes. As sood as I fidish these three, I’ll have 300 done. Thed I cad automate themb to reblicate thembselves.”

Such a long speech made him cough harshly, his voice long gone. She tutted disapprovingly. “You’ll be in bed for a week after this. You’ve done yourself in, stubborn fool.

“Id was worth idt,” he said, almost smugly. “Idt’s for the king.”

“So you said,” she said, yet again rolling her eyes. “We’ll see if you can say the same in a few days.”

A hoarse grunt was his only reply. He had gone back to his work and needed all his remaining concentration to finish.

Seeing that he wasn’t moving until he reached his target, Elliamina did her own washing and grooming, cleaned up her bedding, and got coffee and breakfast going. Just as she was putting the eggs on, she saw him toss down his tools with a final flourish. However, as he said, the chain mail materials continued to manipulate themselves to form more armor even as Elmrador wearily stood, scrubbing his face and swiping at his dripping nose with a once again sodden handkerchief.

A round of rough, barking coughs made him hunch over again a moment later, a hand pressed to his chest. A weak “ow” was all he could manage as he tried to catch his breath, a hand now at his temple.

“I didn’t thingk coughig could hurdt so mbuch,” he wheezed.

“Only when you push your body past its limit. Come along, it’s bed for you for the foreseeable future, you dunce.” She moved to his side and grasped his elbow, leading him back to his mattress.

“You don’dt ndeed to help mbe walk, I’m ndot an invalid, only full of cold,” he muttered, trying to pull away. Mina was not dissuaded.

“Be that as it may, I’d rather help you get there just the same. You look as if a strong breeze will blow you over, and then where would I be?”

He deigned not to reply and instead allowed her to seat him on the edge of the bed where he swayed weakly as she helped him remove his sweaty clothes and don his nightshirt before propping him up against a heap of pillows, as his wheezy breathing was rather worrying her. She plied him once more with tea and tonic, which he accepted without a fuss. Then she brought over the plate of steaming eggs and toast. He made a face and pushed it away.

“I don’dt like eggs even whed I’mb ndot sick. I cerdainly don’dt wandt themb ndow.”

“Ah, so that’s why you have so many eggs. Well, would you at least eat the toast?”

He grunted noncommittally and took a half-hearted bite, taking a long time to chew and swallow. He only managed to finish half a slice before he pushed that away too. “Can’dt. Throadt hurdts too mbuch. Jusdt mbakes mbe feel sicker.” He gamely finished his tea though as she watched worriedly.

“You never turn down food. You’re already a beanstalk, Elm. I wish you would eat something.”

A rough cough was the only reply he could manage as he quickly coasted toward sleep once again. Mina sighed and decided to let him sleep, putting the food aside. That was what he needed most now anyway.

And sleep he did, for a long time. Yet his work was not done. He had to get up for a few hours the next day, for once all the shirts were complete he had to do the final quality review of the armor. Elliamina hovered worriedly at his elbow as he did intricate magic to test the limits of his creations. He was so weak he could hardly stand, arms shaking and face flushed as he cast. He had to sit often to catch his breath and wait out bouts of lightheadedness or coughs, but he would be damned before he delivered a subpar product to the king. Mina assisted him as best as she was able, doing whatever she could for his health and ensuring he didn't harm himself.

After hours of rigorous testing, he finally pronounced them suitable, while Elmrador himself ached with weariness. Without another word, he proceeded to crawl back into bed and bury himself in blankets, immediately beginning to snore as one deeply exhausted.

He passed most of the next several days in an illness and tonic-induced slumber. He was miserable when he was awake, every fiber of his being aching or throbbing. Mina forced him to eat and drink whenever she could, but mostly he wanted to sleep, and she let him do just that.

He was in fact asleep when the king's men arrived for the armor. A small crew of men rode up to the cottage with much pomp and ceremony. Mina greeted them in the garden, introducing herself as the sorcerer's assistant. They were immediately enthralled with her, as was everyone that met her for the first time, and she utilized this to expertly manage the transaction. Within 20 minutes the men were departing with many sacks of chain shirts in their cart, ecstatic with their purchase, while Mina carried a hefty pouch of gold, more than Elm had originally bargained for, into the cottage. Elmrador was still asleep, oblivious to it all. She knew he had lost track of the days some time ago, and she didn't see a reason to excite him until he was better.

Instead of waking him, she safely hid the gold in his stores. She then pulled up her chair once more to her place beside his bed, took up her needlework, and softly began to hum as she worked while her brother slept on peacefully.

#sickfic #sicknario #Sickness #snzfic #snzblr #snzario #fantasy #spellcasting #MY OCs #fever #everyone is hotter with a fever #story prompt

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acrylicqueen · 3 years

Text

My Version of FNAF Canon

(a.k.a. my attempt at cleaning up the FNAF timeline) FNAF’s canon is messy and confusing, and I personally think the story would be better if the series ended with FNAF3 like Scott had originally intended. So, a few days ago, I wrote up a revised version of the story and explained every detail so it is all easily understood. You can read the revised story/timeline of events underneath the read more!

Characters:

Henry Emily

Original Founder of Fazbear Entertainment

Friendly and approachable. A family man despite being a single parent. Harbors big aspirations and is determined to stick to them. Has a tendency to get in a little over his head; has so many ideas that they all tend to muddle together and become confusing. Despite this, he is very professional. A HARD worker.

William Afton

Co-founder of Fazbear Entertainment

Founder of Afton Robotics

Manipulative and controlling. Narcissistic; possibly a megalomaniac. Has a habit of taking advantage of others for personal gain. Incredibly fake in earnest, but good at pretending to be a genuine person. Bad temper. Highly intelligent and sly, which makes him appear rather charming to most people.

Timeline:

Early 1970s

Henry has an idea for a kid's pizza restaurant utilizing animatronics and arcade games as entertainment.

He employs an old friend of his, William Afton, as his business partner. He becomes the co-founder of the company Henry's creating.

Working together, Henry and William found Fazbear Entertainment and in-turn Afton Robotics.

Henry and William create the restaurant's animatronics, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, and open their first location, "Fredbear's Family Diner." While they both design the animatronics, William builds them.

Late 1970s

Restaurant is successful and groundbreaking

After a few years of being open, to make the restaurant more exciting, Henry and William design new animatronics to be displayed alongside Fredbear and Bonnie. These new animatronics are Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy (what would later become their withered variants)

With an added aura of confidence due to building these new and more technologically advanced animatronics, William wants to take the company in a direction Henry isn't fond of; William is trying to take control of the company too much for Henry's liking

Eventually Henry fires William

Fuming, William files a lawsuit on Fazbear Entertainment, claiming he is the rightful owner of the physical animatronics. Since he built them he believes he is entitled to their copyright

William loses the lawsuit because when he forfeited the animatronics over to Fazbear Entertainment, technically Henry became the owner of them

Because of being fired and the result of the lawsuit, William is left penniless and disgraced

William grows to resent Henry and the Fazbear Entertainment company because not only did the company ruin him, but he also he believes it's not fair he helped the company become successful only to be fired and kicked off the team

William wants to get revenge, so he vows to figure out a way to ruin the company's reputation while also getting "even" with Henry for dropping him as a business partner

William takes his revenge to the extreme when he decides to murder Henry's daughter, Charlotte, outside of Fredbear's Family Diner in an act of vindictiveness and self-importance

Charlotte possesses the Security Puppet, binding her spirit to all future versions of the Puppet as well

Henry is devastated and the company takes a massive blow when the public finds out Fredbear's Family Diner is now linked to a child's murder

Henry closes Fredbear's down until further notice due to his grief and the negative reception from the public

Meanwhile, William gets away with his crime, no one even suspecting him since he dropped off the public radar after the lawsuit

Mid-Late 1980s (1985-1987) (FNAF 2)

Henry is being dogged by investors of Fazbear Entertainment to rekindle the restaurant

Feeling backed into a corner, Henry agrees to make a new version of Fredbear's Family Diner, which he renames "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

Henry makes new animatronics for the restaurant himself. He dubs these the "Toy" animatronics. Toy Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy (+ a new version of The Puppet, "The Marionette")

Henry equips these new animatronics with special facial scanners to detect potential criminals in the restaurant. The animatronics identify these criminals through a database. Henry is determined to have this restaurant be safer than his last attempt.

Note: This restaurant is most likely when the company began using the spring lock suits. Therefore, the safe rooms for bleeding out are located in THIS location specifically. This may have been a suggestion and action from investors, as I can't see Henry making this reckless idea up.

The restaurant opens to mixed reception. This new restaurant is in a different city than Fredbear's. Henry made this decision mostly to help his mental health.

Eventually, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza becomes just as popular, if not more so, than Fredbear's Family Diner. Kids ADORE adore the restaurant for the characters, games, and prizes, and adults can appreciate the groundbreaking technology that goes into the animatronics.

Despite still being the owner of Fazbear Entertainment, Henry attempts to distance himself from holding a strong management role. He's still traumatized by the brutal death of his daughter.

William, noticing that Fazbear Entertainment is becoming successful again even after the crime he committed, becomes enraged.

Still doing poorly mentally and financially because of his termination from the company, William realizes that in order to truly tarnish the reputation of Fazbear Entertainment for good, he's going to have to hatch a new plan (William is truly a vindictive bastard)

Note: William tries so hard to ruin the company because not only did it put him out financially, which essentially ruined his life, but it wronged him personally, and since he's so narcissistic he believes people shouldn't be able to get away with doing him wrong. This is most likely not his first experience with breaking the law/doing something truly horrible.

Under the alias 'Fritz Smith' William applies for a job at the new location, landing a position as a day-worker and part-time night guard

William changes his appearance slightly just in case anyone recognizes him from Fredbear's

Considering the fact Henry is trying to distance himself from the new restaurant, he doesn't notice William (posing as a different person) is now working at Freddy's

Note: The animatronics begin to act strangely toward the staff of the restaurant after William gets a job there because Charlotte (inside The Marionette) can sense that an evil presence is within the building now. Therefore, the animatronics start to act aggressively toward all adult figures (considering Charlotte mostly remembers that the murderer is an adult.)

For a while, William works a normal job at the restaurant, getting close to the patrons and other staff members. He takes this time to study the inner workings of the company.

He's seen as a slightly odd, but generally well-meaning individual (and a pretty good worker too!)

After about a year or so William finally puts his plan into motion, using one of the old animatronic suits to lure five children into the backroom and murder them, just as he had done to Charlotte (maybe he does this on a day he's supposed to have off in order to have an alibi. Takes the day off and then sneaks into work anyway)

He finds great satisfaction in this and ends up having quite a bit of fun committing the crime. It reminds him of the catharsis he felt back when he murdered Charlotte.

(As an added bonus 🙂) William takes each corpse and shoves them into spare animatronic suits in the backroom closet for someone to discover later. He then cleans himself up and promptly flees the scene of the crime, lying in wait for what will happen next.

Charlotte's spirit, now residing inside of The Marionette, gives life to the dead children by allowing them to possess the animatronic they were each stuffed into. This permanently binds their souls to any and all past and future versions of that character. (So technically each child is possessing EVERY iteration of their respectful animatronic. Ex: The child stuffed inside of Freddy is haunting Fredbear, Withered Freddy, Toy Freddy, Regular Freddy, Etc.)

Note: The childrens' bodies were most likely stuffed inside the Withered animatronics. William probably figured it would take people a bit to check those specific models, which would give him enough time to prepare for the fallout that would occur when they were found.

With the disappearance of five children at the restaurant, an investigation is launched. The staff plans to have the restaurant closed for only a few days so the police can conduct it.

As expected, the corpses of the children are found during the investigation and the restaurant is promptly closed

After being cleaned out, the restaurant holds one final birthday party before shutting down to allow for further investigation into the crime

With these five murders, the animatronics are sent into a frenzy, acting more aggressive than ever and generally not working right

During the last birthday party, Jeremy Fitzgerald, the night guard that was instructed to work the dayshift, is attacked by one of the animatronics, resulting in the "Bite of '87". He survives, but with the loss of his frontal lobe he loses cognitive abilities and all motor skills.

Note: You may ask "Why'd Fazbear Entertainment agree to still do the birthday party even though they literally just found five childrens' corpses in the building?" Money, duh. The managers don't want to miss out on a sale, and they CERTAINLY don't want to have to refund parents for the party.

This is the final nail in the coffin for the restaurant, so it's completely shut down, the future of the company unknown.

The murders of the five children and the Bite of '87 completely tank the reputation of the restaurant, and the tragedy is all over the news.

Henry is left in utter disbelief and turmoil after the incident. Unable to deal with everything, he makes the decision to sell Fazbear Entertainment, completely cutting ties with the company.

Meanwhile, William sits back, satisfied with the fact that he was successfully able to achieve what he set out to do.

Early 1990s (1993?) (FNAF 1)

The Fazbear Entertainment company is in limbo for a while after the incidents. The FNAF2 location is left to rot.

The investigations into the murders of the five children culminated in the wrongful arrest and detainment of another Freddy's employee. Therefore, William has remained innocent.

However, as the years have passed, William has begun to be haunted by the spirits of the five children.

He decides that in order to get *them to stop bothering him, he'll break into the rotting Freddy's location and completely dismantle the animatronics, effectively destroying their vessels and hopefully causing the spirits to be destroyed along with them.

*This doesn't necessarily have to be the actual spirits of the children. It could also be an inkling of William's conscious seeping through and torturing him about the crimes he committed.

William does this and during the dismantling process is ambushed by the five spirits, scaring him into the safe room and causing him to hide in an abandoned Spring Bonnie costume lying on the ground.

This is where the spring locks release and kill him inside the suit, as seen in the FNAF3 mini games.

Now that William is finally dead, the spirits believe they can pass on, but what they aren't aware of is that being killed in the Spring Bonnie suit has now fused William's spirit with it. Therefore, he is not truly dead.

Mid-Late 1990s (FNAF 1)

The people that purchased the Fazbear Entertainment company from Henry decided to once again try and revitalize the company, still seeing great potential in it despite the tragedies that took place. (They want their money!)

They decide to turn the restaurant into more of a chain.

They salvage some parts from the old FNAF2 location, board up the safe rooms inside the building, and use the parts they find to remake the animatronic characters.

(Q: Why do they board up the safe rooms?

A: Considering these people technically still own the old FNAF2 building, I would imagine they would like to keep it around for potential other locations in the future. Therefore, they don't want anyone easily breaking into the building and screwing things up, so they just board up any and all entrances, doorways, etc.

Q: Why did they decide to do this now? Why not earlier? The building was just sitting there, so why hadn't they boarded it up sooner?

A: Up until this point the people that own Fazbear Entertainment now weren't planning on doing ANYTHING with these old locations. They had no plans, so why would they need to make sure that one of the old locations doesn't get vandalized? They only start caring now because the building is finally a potential way to make a profit.)

These characters are cheaply made and look like a significant downgrade from the Toy animatronics (considering they weren't made by William or Henry)

Most of everything in the new restaurant is dingier and cheaper than the past two locations because the new owners of the company care more about money than quality, unlike Henry.

Since William's spirit lives on inside the Spring Bonnie suit, the children's souls are unable to pass on, so even these new animatronics continue to act strangely and attempt to attack the night guard.

This continues until this new location is shut down as well for health violations. The place is a mess, the pizza is nasty, and families are complaining that the animatronic characters are glitchy, smell awful, and seem to be leaking "what appears to be blood and mucus."

~2017 (FNAF 3)

Far in the future, the Fazbear's Fright horror attraction is made to capitalize on the infamous Freddy Fazbear's Pizza "rumors"

William, now possessing Spring Bonnie, is found by Fazbear's Fright while they scavenge through the old FNAF1 location

He is placed into the horror attraction after he is salvaged.

Influenced by his remaining bitterness toward anything Fazbear Entertainment related, plus the animalistic nature he processes while inhabiting Springtrap, he attempts to attack and kill the night guard of Fazbear's Fright

After a week, the Fazbear's Fright building catches fire and burns down. Springtrap burns with the building and, with his vessel destroyed, William's spirit is sent to Hell. It's currently debated on whether or not the fire was caused by an outside party, or by the faulty wiring and ventilation in the old building.

Note: It's quite possible Henry found out about the horror attraction and burnt the building down himself, attempting to end all things related to the seemingly cursed franchise once and for all. This might have been an act of catharsis for him, almost like he's finally letting go of the past.

With William officially gone, the spirits of the six kids he murdered can properly pass on.

#five night's at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf1 #fnaf2 #fnaf3 #springtrap #william afton #purple guy #henry emily #script revision #story revision #story rewrite #drabbles

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celosiaa · 4 years

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I dont know if you're taking prompts at the moment but when you have time if the idea interests you what about martin greying after their time in the apocalypse and growing a beard and being distressed because he looks like his father. jon comforts him and helps him feel better about his appearance. maybe some soft domestic comfort where jon helps martin dye his hair and shave the beard away to look like himself again.

hi friend!!! thank you for this prompt, it’s probably not perfect bc I wrote it really fast!! But I hope you like it anyway :)

CW panic attack

When Jon wakes, head still spinning in the light of the sun, Martin is once again gone. And Jon is so, so very tired.

Tired of the weariness, the deep ache that has settled so heavily in his bones he is unsure if he will ever truly shake it. Tired of the sapping away of his strength, as he attempts to rebuild, day by day by day even after a year has gone by since the end of all things.

Tired of waking up alone.

It’s a wonderful thing, in a way, to know that something is wrong with Martin rather than Knowing it—the realization that he is, in fact, able to discern when something is bothering the love of his life is a rather comforting fact, after everything. Even so, he finds himself frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that he cannot intuit the source of his husband’s distress, much less pull anything out of him.

Martin is shutting down. Plain as day. And it terrifies him.

Running a hand briefly over the Martin-shaped imprint beside him, long gone cold, Jon props himself up on too-slender arms, waiting a moment for the spots to clear from his vision, and standing on too-slender legs. At once, he reaches for his cane at the bedside, finding his injury sitting heavy in his hip this day—and heads quietly out of the room and into the hall.

If Jon had not known better, he would never have guessed that Martin were there at all. For the entirety of their normally-cozy, tiny little flat seems nothing but desolate and dustladen and darkening, ever darkening. Something Lonely creeping through every window sill, beneath the outside door, through the vents—

Streaming from the open bathroom door.

Of course, Jon had seen it coming for days, had tried to warn Martin of the fog carried on each of the few words he has spoken over the past few days. But it did not matter—Martin has often explained how muffled everything becomes while he finds himself once again in this place. Muffled and meaningless and fading, fading. Buried under guilt and fear and apologies, so many apologies that Jon could drown in them.

And now, perhaps—just perhaps, he might let him in. If the open door of the bathroom is a sign to be taken as hopeful.

“Martin,” he calls as he approaches the doorframe. “Habibi, are you alright?”

Upon looking in, he finds Martin leaning over the sink—staring with empty eyes back into the emptiness of his reflection in the mirror, fog swirling so thick beneath his glasses it’s a wonder he can see at all. The word that comes first to Jon’s mind is frozen—and he cannot help but hurt over just how long he has stood here, alone and in his private grief, limbs shaking ever so slightly in their static hold.

“Habibi,” he starts again—quieter this time, stepping a bit closer. “Look at me. I’m right here.”

He follows these words with resting a hand against his forearm—ever so gentle and cautious, yet Martin jumps bodily all the same.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Jon continues, without moving his hand away.

“…what?” is the eventual reply, so dim and far away it echoes, swirling around Jon’s head dizzyingly.

“Look at me, Martin. Can you look at me?” he pleads, beginning to rub his hand up and down his forearm now, anything to create some warmth over his ice-cold skin.

“Jon.”

“Yes. Right here, please look at me.”

At last, at long last—Martin turns his face away from the mirror, the fog beginning to dissipate from his eyes as soon as he meets Jon’s. The ache of it all sends something twisting in his stomach, over the fact that this still happens so regularly, that Martin still struggles to be open, even with him, even after all this time.

And buries it.

“There you are,” he soothes as he slips a hand up and into his hair, beginning to stroke through it as Martin starts to come back to himself. “You with me?”

He blinks a few more times, slowly, strangely—before tensing suddenly beneath Jon’s hands, eyes blown wide as he gasps in a breath.

“J-Jon—”

“Easy. Easy, now,” he murmurs easily, grasping at his arm once again. “Just sit down. You’re alright.”

“Jon—”

“Sit down, my love.”

Back to the wall, Martin slides down to sitting braced against it—bowing his head between his knees at once, one hand against his throat as he gasps for something beyond the fog to fill his lungs. Jon steps over his feet—coming to rest on the side of the tub, leaning forward to keep a gentle pressure moving across his shoulders as he works through the panic. All too common panic, unfortunately.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

As always, Jon feels so helpless here. He knows there is very little to be done but to sit and wait, talk if it helps, stop if it doesn’t, always keeping that contact to ground Martin in warmth. Every time his heart breaks—and every time he swallows the lump in his throat, no matter how thick with fog it may be.

“I’m right here.”

Several minutes pass this way, rapid breaths fading into rhythm, color returning back to Martin’s skin, the fog at at last dissipating into the floor beneath them. And finally—finally—Martin looks up, eyes just barely meeting Jon’s for a moment before he covers them in shame.

“God, I’m so sorry, Jon,” he croaks, scrubbing over his eyes as he speaks. “Happened again.”

“No need, habibi,” Jon replies, as always. “No need.”

And still the silence remains for a while, Jon’s hand never leaving Martin’s back, Martin’s hand never falling away from his eyes in his misery. It is in this moment, feeling his husband shaking beneath him for the third morning in a row, and the fourth this week, that Jon makes a decision.

“Martin,” he begins, pausing to worry at his lower lip for a moment. “Martin, please…please tell me why this is happening.”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” comes the terrible reply, the one that tells Jon there is so much hurt still left to heal in his soul.

“I am worried. And will continue to worry, because I love you.”

A small huff of laughter behind a ghost of a smile.

“I love you too,” he replies, as if still shocked he is allowed to say it.

“Then please—talk to me.”

“It’s silly—it’s nothing, I dunno why it’s bothering me so much,” he continues, at last letting the hand covering his eyes fall and rest atop his knee. “And—and I’m sorry it’s—it’s worrying you. But I’m alright.”

Yet another small and fragile thing shatters in Jon’s chest over this—this utter falsehood, that he would ever see Martin drowning in the Lonely and think only of himself. That he would ever think that way.

“I-I wouldn’t—this isn’t about me, Martin,” he assures, refusing to bely the hurt pushing against the steadiness of his voice. “I know that you are hurting. Please—please tell me why, and I will help.”

“Jon—”

“That’s all I want. Is to help.”

A moment—a long, terrible moment in which Jon cannot be sure he is trusted, cannot be sure he is ready to talk. That he will have to accept whatever the next breath brings, even if it hurts. Even if it hurts.

Please please please

“I—like I said, it’s silly, right?” Martin begins to choke out, tears rising immediately as he begins to speak. “I-I know it is. And I’m just going to sit here and blubber about it like a fool.”

“It’s not silly if it hurts you.”

“I—well, just—just wait till you hear it,” he says tremulously, letting out a terribly damp little laugh at the end, swiping at his eyes yet again. “It’s just that—with the, the grey, and the—beard, I—god—I look just like my dad.”

And there it is at last, the aching truth of it all. The trauma Martin would rather call silliness. The panic he would rather call a terrible display of dramatics. The tears he will apologize for in three, two—

“God, I’m so sorry,” he bursts through gritted teeth, trying desperately to make a noise sounding something like laughter.

“Martin—”

“It’s so silly, I—”

“Stop, stop.”

Catching both of Martin’s hands in his own, Jon grips them tightly, tilting his head in a gesture that begs Martin to look, please look at me. And when he does, eyes still brimming and barely holding together—it’s nearly enough to do Jon in altogether.

“It is not silly,” he begins forcefully, gently. “You have every right to feel upset by this. This—this pain makes sense—and it is real, and it is justified. Alright?”

The damp smile Jon receives in return is enough to tell him that Martin does not really believe him, perhaps he never will—but that his words are appreciated all the same.

“Now listen. There are some things we could do that might help, alright?” he continues, starting to massage Martin’s hands gently as the tears begin to fall in earnest, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking. “I could—I could help you dye it. Any color at all. And—only if you want—I can help you shave. If you think it might help.”

A laugh—a real, if still damp, laugh comes from him then—cast in the glow of a genuine smile. As it always has and always will—it sets Jon’s heart fluttering with love for this man, for his anchor—for his love. For his always.

“Yeah, I—heh—” he begins, swiping away the remaining wetness with another laugh. “Early thirties is a bit young to go grey, I reckon.”

“Is it now?” Jon teases at once, a grin spreading wide across his face, tossing his own greying hair over one shoulder. “Is that young to go grey?”

“Oh come off it,” Martin says, rolling his eyes, bumping a shoulder against Jon’s leg. “You know what I meant.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonmartin #hurt/comfort #cw panic attack #my writing

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kim-miri · 3 years

Text

HALF(have a little fun) pt. v

→ one | two | three | four

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part five / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 3,127

☾v.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾v. part v: the mafia(2/2)

Sayomi made her way to the elevators once again, dispatching the control room through her walkie talkie that she needed to get to her shift.

It was currently a quarter to 1, the last minutes before her shift would start. With a hand resting on her katana, Sayomi now exited the elevator having arrived at the 48th floor.

As she approached the VIP’s room, the two bodyguards on duty sighed in relief.

“Thank god, it’s finally rotation time”, the woman exhaled lazily.

Sayomi tried her luck at a friendly interaction, casually asking the pair a question. “I’m guessing there wasn’t any action?”

The man laughed a genuine, but tired laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We haven’t moved an inch since the start of our shift.”

Sayomi laughed at the pair’s lack of enthusiasm, her violet eyes crinkling at the edges. Her expression of joy seemed infectious, as the older members in front of her laughed along with her in their despair.

She was starting to feel like a true member of the team already.

This is nice, I didn’t expect the others to be as unmotivated as me.

Closing in on the time designated for the shift change, Sayomi’s partner arrived as well. Seeing no purpose in waiting around when everyone was present, the pairs switched early, starting Sayomi on her very first stretch as a bodyguard.

☾v.

The first 30 minutes into her shift, Sayomi had learned that her partner was a rather quiet person by nature.

Upon starting their shift, the two had exchanged a brief greeting, nodding to acknowledge the other.

It was only after an hour of standing and staring at the wall that Sayomi decided she couldn’t stand the silence while they waited out their shift.

She initiated a conversation with the older man, coming out bold as to establish her character.

“So, how did such an average man like you get stuck working for the mafia?”

The man was unmoving, replying to her question in a soft voice. “My family’s debt… Why did a young girl like you get caught up with the mafia?”

She wasn’t expecting such an honest response from the man. It threw her off, making her unprepared to answer the question shot her way.

“Um… I guess you could say family circumstances?” She hadn’t lied, given that it was her family’s actions that left her at Meteor City.

The man nodded in understanding at her vague answer.

Another wave of awkward silence fell over the two, Sayomi’s initial attempt at socializing having failed miserably.

She decided not to reattempt a conversation with the man, sensing that he didn’t care for idle chatter.

Family circumstances, huh. That’s the best thing I could think of.

Sayomi had fallen deep in thought, her brows furrowing as she reflected back on her life.

I wonder if… father ever came looking for me? Or Illumi… did Illumi want me gone too? Ah, I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. Either way I won’t return home, because that would mean mother winning.

She exhaled audibly, tired from the splurge of thoughts that had taken over her mind once again.

The man glanced over at the teen stationed next to him. She was obviously just as bored as he was to be stuck with this job.

Moving his eyes back forward to the wall in front of him, he attempted to kickstart a conversation once again. “You seem a bit too young to be on your own, don’t you miss your family?”

Sayomi blinked at the man in surprise, both at the question and the fact that he had initiated a conversation.

She contemplated whether she should tell the truth or cover it up with a lie. Deciding that a lie would take more effort, she settled for the truth. “I’ve been in the assassin business for 6 years now, so I wouldn’t say too young… I do miss my little brother though. Do you miss your family?”

As the man appeared to be deep in thought, Sayomi mulled over her words. My little brother… Killua, are they treating you alright?

“My apologies for assuming. And, yes, I do indeed miss my family. But, why haven’t you escaped yet, then? With no leverage against you, you could easily run away at any time.” The man spoke while looking at her this time.

She thought about his question. “I guess… well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s my first time in Yorknew City, and I wouldn’t want to go back home to the people that left me in the first place.”

He let out a hmm at her response, obviously putting the pieces of her situation together. “If I told you of a way you could live here in Yorknew without being trapped under the mafia… would you oblige?”

His eyes were soft and earnest. He knew what it was like to remain helpless at the hands of the Mafia, and saw no reason she should as well, especially at such a young age.

Sayomi’s expression formed one of shock and surprise, obviously taken aback by the man’s sincerity to help.

“I suppose I would… but if you know of a way out, why haven’t you left yet?” The two were now holding eye contact as if to read the other’s intentions.

“I’m afraid I’ve already received too much from the Mafia. I owe my life as well as my family’s safety to them.” He responded somberly.

Sayomi nodded silently, understanding the man’s situation. She decided to at least take a listen to the plan he had to offer. “So, you know of a way I can live in Yorknew without the Mafia breathing over my shoulder?”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and the man could sense it as something between the recklessness of a teenager and the confidence of a powerful assassin. She has no fears. I wonder how much she’s experienced to be this strong at such a young age.

“Ah, yes. Sticking with the Mafia will never do you any good. There’s a way of living here in Yorknew City if you’re especially confident in your fighting abilities. It’s called Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi raised her eyebrows at the man’s words, curious. Heaven’s Arena? Sounds like some shoddy place where people bet on fights.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention. So, what does one do at Heaven’s Arena?” Sayomi asked.

The man cracked a ghost of a smile at her interest. “You fight. From what I’ve heard, it’s set up in multiple floors, and each time you win they let you advance to higher floors. I’m pretty sure the pay goes up with each floor as well.”

Sayomi was impressed. A place where they pay you to fight? Count me in.

“I wonder what the catch is though… if it’s as easy as you say, wouldn’t everyone be taking their chances at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man hummed in agreement with her words. “You’re right. The most I’ve heard is that once you reach a certain point, the matches become a fight to the death, and through any means possible. I’m guessing that’s where most people falter- it’s either life or death matches that’ll provide you with a stable income, or small fights once in a while that pay very little. Only the strongest find what they’re looking for at Heaven’s Arena.”

Gambling with your life in order to pay the bills…

“And you think I could make it at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man looked down at Sayomi with a fatherly gaze. “I don’t think you’re the type of person to need someone else’s approval. But to answer your question, yes, I think with the right amount of training you could find a new life with Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi smiled at his judgement of her character. “Well, then that does it. I just need to find my way out of the Mafia’s grasp, and then I can get to training.”

☾v.

Sayomi’s shift was over before she knew it. Just as the pair before them had said, their VIP client had no one after him.

Her partner had told her all he knew about Heaven’s Arena and the Mafia from his many years working in Yorknew City.

She had learned that there were members of the Mafia hidden within the assassin recruits, keeping anyone from sneaking away. Her escape would have to be well planned out to avoid getting caught along with any consequences.

Tagging out with the next pair of bodyguards, Sayomi head back to her room once again.

2 days later

VIP Adachi Yuto’s stay came to an end, with it marking the end of Sayomi’s first job. The team was dissolved as a result, and Sayomi was dispatched by her section leader to meet with him down at the lobby.

The section leader turned out to be the man who had first brought her to Yorknew City, a familiar face that relaxed Sayomi’s nerves a great amount.

Upon meeting, he was immediately down to business, letting Sayomi know of her next assignment.

It was an assassin’s job.

She had originally planned to find a way out of the Mafia’s scope soon, but with the mention of her finally getting some action, the plan was postponed.

Her target was a man in his 30s. No other information was given to her besides a photo and his location.

Not much to her surprise, an ankle monitor was situated around her right leg, keeping her from straying from the job.

Damn you, bloodlust. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to ditch the cold blood and murder mother and father drilled into my head.

Sayomi was falling victim to her old habits. She knew it was wrong to stick around any longer, but the consequences of the offer to satisfy her thirst for blood didn’t sink in until the cool metal of her ankle monitor pressed into her skin.

The man seemed to read Sayomi’s thoughts as she realized her mistake. “The ankle monitor is programmed to shock the user upon our command. It’s enough power to deal sufficient damage to even the largest of animals, so I insist you remain focused on the missions we give you. We never enjoy having to resort to using it, but keep in mind that we will not hesitate to, given a reason.”

She looked down at her ankle in defeat. It seemed Heaven’s Arena would have to wait.

☾v.

Later that night

Sayomi paced anxiously about in her hotel room. It was a mix of long-overdue bloodlust and hatred towards herself as a result of her assassin’s instinct to kill.

Deep inside her head, a war of conflicting feelings raged on.

Calm down, Sayomi. Every time you do this it’s only proving that mother succeeded in sculpting you into her little assassin.

She had completely thrown away a perfect chance to escape just because she couldn’t control her impulses to kill in cold blood.

But is it that wrong to want to kill? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I’ll be exactly like mother. I can control my own future now, I am my own person.

Setting her katana down against the wall, she opted for her needles instead. It had been a while since she’d used the smaller weapons because they reminded her of the past.

Now putting the past behind her, Sayomi walked with a new air of confidence. It was her greatest skill and job to kill, she’d decided. And this was a decision she had come to on her own, a new mindset for a new beginning.

A static-ridden dispatch over her walkie talkie marked the beginning of her assignment, and Sayomi headed down to the lobby.

Since she was still underage, a driver was provided to her, stationed in front of the hotel with her designated license plate.

The brisk night air greeted Sayomi as she exited the hotel. It was currently a few minutes past 12, the streets being mostly empty except for the young city goers enjoying the nightlife in Yorknew City.

Exhaling out an envious sigh at the stunning city lights surrounding her, Sayomi watched her breath disappear into the night as she walked briskly to the car.

The drive to her target’s location was silent. Sayomi sat alone in the back seat, watching with empty eyes as friends, lovers, and complete strangers came together in harmony within the lively city.

She started to wonder what it would be like to live a normal life like them. What would she be doing right now? Staying up and texting friends? Going to bed before midnight?

As the teen sat in the back of a luxurious car going towards her next target to assassinate, she couldn’t help but wish she had a normal life, with friends who cared about her feelings or guy problems instead of waiting for orders on which guy she would kill next.

These are useless thoughts. There’s no turning back now.

The car came to a stop at an intimidatingly tall company building, around the same height as the hotel.

Stretching her limbs as she exited the car, the driver notified Sayomi he would wait for her return in the same spot.

Thanking the driver for his services, she took quick steps towards the entrance of the building. With her persistently developed speed and underground techniques, sneaking in and out of the building would be no problem.

Taking notice of the lack of security, she rolled her eyes as she let out a breath in annoyance. This is amateur work.

Activating her zetsu, Sayomi’s menacing purple aura dissipated into thin air as she dashed past the sorry line of security, making her way to a deserted hallway.

There was a lone guard doing rounds with a bright flashlight in hand, failing to notice the slight breeze that Sayomi had left in her path.

Positioning a needle between her fingers, Sayomi flicked her wrist out at lightning speed, sending the needle flying towards the guard.

It hit home in the guard’s neck, knocking him out instantly. Taking nimble steps towards the fallen guard, Sayomi made quick work of grabbing his access badge before heading to the elevators.

Seeing as no one else was around, she tabbed an elevator, rocking back and her toes as she waited.

Just as she had expected, the elevator required an access badge, which she tapped against the scanner while pressing on the button for the 38th floor.

In a bored attempt to keep herself preoccupied on the way up, Sayomi spread her band of needles out in her hands. Closing her eyes, she ran a pale hand over the band.

Her hand came down on a single needle, the needle she would use to finish off her target. Putting the band back into her pocket, she held the single needle between her knuckles, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The elevators chime signified Sayomi’s arrival at the 38th floor. The floor was empty, being past working hours and in between shifts for the security guards.

A single desk lamp shone in her target's office, and Sayomi strolled casually to the partially open door.

She could see from where she approached that her target was busy at work, having stayed overtime.

Knocking twice on the inside of the open door, Sayomi just barely caught the attention of the man before moving her wrist in a single, fluid motion.

The man had no chance to react, slumping face down onto his desk with a muffled thump.

She had hit the jugular clean and precise, leaving no trail behind of her job besides the now motionless man.

Satisfied with her work, Sayomi returned to the elevators with a skip in her step. A few months without my needles and I’ve still got it!

Greeting her driver with a smile this time around, she didn’t blame him for being utterly confused.

The job had taken her just under 5 minutes, the majority of the time belonging to the elevator rides up and down from the 38th floor.

Dispatching her section leader of the completed job, Sayomi returned back to the hotel, looking as if she had gone out for an evening stroll.

Her section leader greeted her in the lobby, letting her know she had the remainder of the night off. She frowned slightly at the news, her adrenaline still rushing from the short job.

An easy target like today always left her wanting more, unsatisfied with the lack of fighting that came with it.

I’m getting all caught up in this again.

Shaking away her thoughts of possibly finding more action, Sayomi returned to her room with slumped shoulders. She forced herself to set her needles back down on her nightstand, finding it hard to keep herself from fiddling with them.

It was late. And though the 51st floor around her seemed to be deep in sleep, Sayomi was restless.

She decided to wash up and take a quick shower to relax her nerves, changing out of the uniform and into one of the other outfits they had provided her with.

Wrapping her silvery-white hair in a towel, she opted to sit on the floor, gazing out of the floor length window in front of her.

Yorknew City was quieting down, the street vendors having cleaned up for the night, stores being long closed, and clubs starting to die down. The last of the neon signs flickered in the darkness, looking like tiny specks of color from where Sayomi sat, high above most of the buildings bordering the one she was in.

The 16 year old girl sat cross-legged in a trance, no longer focused on the city in front of her, but something within her mind.

What am I gonna do now… I ruined my chances of escaping anytime soon. All because I couldn’t control myself, my old habits. Does this mean mother was successful with her plans?

No. I don’t have to give in to defeat. I’ll find a way out, just like how I got out of Meteor City. Maybe if I gain their trust they’ll take this ankle monitor off.

I just have to become one of their obedient assassins, quiet and reliable.

Sayomi fell asleep slouched on the rough carpeted floor that night, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.

But despite the uncomfortable position, her face proved differently. She was only ever at peace when she was fast asleep, because that’s when she could see her loved ones within dreams.

Illumi, Killua… Are you two taking good care of each other? Are you doing better than I am?

Do you guys even miss me?

I miss you two so much I feel like I could die.

☾v.

to be continued.

a/n: taglist open!

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phantomato · 3 years

Note

What is your favorite Voldemort moment in canon and why?

Ah, a wonderful question! 💕 It’s got to be the second job interview scene, where Tom Riddle, in perhaps his last appearance under that name, meets with Dumbledore.

I’ve rewritten it twice, I enjoy it so much. It’s probably because I’ve been through dispiriting academic job interviews of my own. Tom’s shock and disappointment when he realizes, quite early on, that this was never genuine—that Dumbledore brought him here just to waste his time—cuts deep on every reread. He wants to be a teacher. He might want other things, too, he might want to have influence over younger generations or have proximity to the castle’s resources and magic, but… he wants to take this job, at a place that felt like his first (only?) real home, and to occupy the role of the incredible, untouchable professor that he admired when he was a young child. That’s so earnest. It’s a scene where I feel like we see Tom wanting something, not coveting it, really hoping to put in the work to do this.

And maybe he’s ill-prepared, maybe he should have seen this for the trap that it was, but does that not make it all that much more heartbreaking? If Tom allowed himself to be hopeful about this one thing, and had it torn away from him so brutally? Albus comes across awfully in this scene, demeaning Tom‘s life experience (my read is that Tom is in his forties during this interaction), asserting that Tom is completely unchanged from his 11-year-old self, reminding him of past traumas (being a penniless orphan), and refusing to acknowledge his chosen identity.

Like, to be clear—I don’t always, but I can read this as Voldemort using his deadname for job application purposes, trying to be vulnerable by asking Albus to use his actual name, and being completely shut down without hesitation. If you want to make Albus a shitbag, have him deadname a trans Voldemort.

Ah, but back to the scene: this has all of the elements of the tension between Tom and Albus that I love, at the life stage I most favor for Tom, and it’s a perfect jumping-off point for an alternate universe. It even has mentions of Tom’s very good friends waiting at the pub to be moral support! It’s a great scene.

With that said, what scene should I have named? What did I miss?

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #non-binary voldemort forever #trans voldemort

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

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

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

Chapter Seven

Jace knew they were in trouble as soon as he saw Maia’s face. The Cheshire Cat had nothing on her grin as she sauntered into Java Jones Monday afternoon, the last of their group to arrive.

She pulled a chair up between Jace and Simon, spun it around with a flourish to sit on it backwards, and flung an arm around both their shoulders. “So, is this the part where I say mazel tov?”

“I am going to literally murder my sister,” Simon announced.

Lily perked up. “Wait, what happened?” She looked between Simon and Jace, then fixed an intense gaze on Maia. “Did one of them finally break down and call you? Why didn’t you assholes mention anything? Who won the bet?”

“Oh, I got a call,” Maia said. “Not from either of these fools, though.”

Jace drained his coffee cup, wishing it were vodka instead. There was clearly no stopping this, so he might as well just face the music now.

“According to Becky, she and her grandmother caught these two in a storage closet about to get down and dirty, and Jace tried to cover up what they were doing by pretending he was down on his knees to propose.”

“Oh no,” Maureen said through a fit of giggles. “That’s terrible.”

Jace flipped her off, which only made her giggle harder.

“Don’t worry,” Maia said, patting Simon’s shoulder, “Becky said she’s like ninety percent sure your grandma didn’t know what was really up.”

“I can hide two bodies,” Simon told her. “I have a van.”

“And my sister is studying forensics,” Jace added. “I bet she’d tell me how to cover up a crime scene if I asked.”

“Every time you bring up your family, I just have more questions,” Lily said.

“Wait,” Maureen said suddenly, holding up her hands. Everyone looked at her. “If you guys are giving each other clandestine blowjobs, does this mean everyone in our friend group has slept together now?”

“Nope,” Bat said, and Jace shook his head.

“Wait, really?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised.

“We thought for sure you two were hooking up back when Simon and I were dating,” Maureen added, looking at Bat. “Jace was over at your place pretty much all the time.”

Jace stared intently into his empty coffee cup. He wasn’t about to tell them he’d spent so much time at Bat’s because he couldn’t quite stomach spending time in his apartment when Simon and Maureen were there, together.

“Jace was over at my place sulking because he got his ass dumped.” Which was the excuse Jace had given him. “He swore me to secrecy because he didn’t want you guys giving him shit for getting his heart broken.”

“You seem to be a little confused about the whole concept of secrecy, though,” Jace said.

“You could’ve told us,” Maureen said, earnest and sympathetic. “We wouldn’t tease you about something if you were really hurting.”

“Well, I’d tease you a little,” Lily said.

“You had your heart broken?” Simon’s voice was soft, and when Jace met his eyes, he found a confused curiosity there. Which of course there would be, Jace realized, given the conversation they’d had on the drive home, where he’d admitted that he hadn’t been serious about anyone since Clary.

“I wasn’t heartbroken,” Jace said, putting as much disdain as he could manage into the word. “Sasha just had some very strong opinions when I told her I didn’t want to get serious, and I kind of wanted to lay low for a while after.” The part about Sasha wasn’t even a lie.

“Oh,” Lily said, dragging the word out with relish. “You were embarrassed because she told you off in public.”

Bat looked skeptical. “You really expect me to believe you spent three weeks curled up on my couch eating Double Stuf Oreos because your ego was bruised?”

“Of course not.” Jace grinned at him. “That was because you’re a sucker who kept buying me Double Stuf Oreos.”

Maia smacked his arm hard enough to sting. “No taking advantage of Bat’s kind and generous spirit.”

Bat looked unconvinced. “Well, next time you decide to hide out at my place because you definitely didn’t get your heart broken, you’re on your own for Oreos.”

Simon was still watching him. “I would’ve shared my Oreos if I knew you needed them.” His tone was far too serious for a conversation about Oreos. Like maybe he knew Jace was hiding something. Like maybe he suspected what Jace was hiding.

Jace flashed him a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’m taking that as an invitation to steal your Oreos whenever I want from now on.”

“Dude, you can’t just steal Oreos!” Maureen protested. “That’s like rule number two of the roommate code.”

“What’s rule number one?” Bat asked.

“Booze,” Maureen and Lily answered in unison.

“And for everyone who keeps asking how we managed to share a dorm and not murder each other freshman year,” Lily continued, “this is the answer.”

“Truth,” Maureen agreed.

This sparked a lively debate about what did and did not constitute violations of roommate code that lasted until Jace had to leave for his evening class.

Two days later, a package of Double Stuf Oreos appeared on Jace’s desk. He didn’t bring them up, and neither did Simon.

~~~

Jace wasn’t sure exactly how they started studying together on the couch instead of their separate rooms. It might have been that one group study session where everyone else had to bail early. But somewhere along the line, he’d started dragging his textbooks and laptop out to the living room any time he needed to get work done. Half the time, he found Simon already there, and the times he didn’t, Simon usually joined him pretty soon after.

And it was…nice. Comfortable in a way Jace tried not to think about. Just another item on his ever-growing list of things not to think about. Conveniently, his assigned paper on the Thirty Years’ War didn’t leave room for thinking about much of anything else.

Which was probably why it took him so long to notice on this particular evening that he and Simon had somehow migrated from their usual spots at either end of the couch to sharing its center. And once he did notice, all thoughts of the Second Defenestration of Prague went out the window, the warmth of Simon’s leg against his own and occasional bump of their shoulders as they worked driving him to distraction.

It was stupid, really. It wasn’t like they never touched. In fact, Jace would bet they’d spent more of their time together over the past few months touching than not, in increasingly creative ways.

But they didn’t touch like this, without teasing or seduction or intent. It made Jace feel twitchy. Restless. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into it, to let the warmth of Simon’s touch seep under his skin. But a far greater part was telling him to pull away, to retreat back to his end of the couch. Or maybe to turn and press Simon back into the couch cushions and turn this into something far more familiar. Something safer.

“Hey,” Simon said, making Jace flinch in surprise. If Simon noticed, he didn’t let on. “I was gonna make stroganoff for dinner tonight, and I’m pretty ready for a break. Any chance I could talk you into slicing mushrooms for me while I start on the beef?”

It took Jace several seconds to process the question, so far from what he’d been thinking. “Um. Yeah. Sure, sounds good.”

Once they made their way to the kitchen, Jace was grateful to be back on familiar ground. They didn’t cook together often—didn’t have much time for cooking at all, really—but they’d done it a handful of times, and they worked well together in a kitchen, which was not something Jace could say about most of his friends, or his family.

It was also, he realized as he stood next to Simon at the stove, boiling egg noodles while Simon stirred the roux, acutely domestic. It was another addition to the list of things he wasn’t going to think about.

When they returned to the living room, bowls of saucy noodles and beef in hand, Simon sat right back down in the middle of the couch, where he’d been before they got up to make dinner. Jace hesitated only an instant before reclaiming his spot next to him. Simon flashed him a quick smile before pulling his financial analytics textbook over to balance precariously on his knee so he could read while he ate. Jace tore his gaze away, turning his attention half-heartedly back to his notes.

By the time he finished eating, Jace had realized two very important things. First, he needed to make another trip to the library if he wanted to have enough sources to back up his thesis. Second, it would be far too easy to get used to nights like tonight, and that wasn’t something he could allow himself to do. Before he could make himself do something about it, though, Simon shifted, half-turning to pull his knees up onto the couch and letting his head rest back against Jace’s shoulder.

“This okay? The light’s better like this.”

Jace took maybe a second too long to answer. “It’s fine.”

He placed his empty bowl on the coffee table—gingerly, so as not to jostle Simon—and returned to his reading. When he shifted a few minutes later, tossing one arm over the back of the couch and letting Simon rest against his chest, it was just a matter of comfort, really. Letting his hand come to rest on Simon’s chest, fingers absently toying with the neckline of his shirt, was not, but Simon didn’t object.

When his fingers encountered skin-warm metal, it took Jace several seconds to realize it. By the time he did, his fingers had already followed the line of the chain down to the center of Simon’s chest, where the object that hung from it rested beneath his t-shirt. He recognized its shape at the same time he felt Simon go unnaturally still.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Simon said in a rush.

Jace traced the shape of the ring through Simon’s shirt. His ring. “It’s a good place to keep it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, flattening his hand against Simon’s chest. The ring pressed into his palm, the telltale beat of Simon’s heart thrumming behind it. He wondered if his own were beating just as fast.

“You know,” he said slowly, “Alec is getting married next month.”

Simon relaxed against him with a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that in the approximately five hundred phone calls you’ve had in the last couple weeks.”

“A best man’s work is never done, apparently.” He took a breath, let it out. “But, I was thinking, you should come with me.”

Simon craned his neck to look at him. “Like, to play your boyfriend again, or…?”

As my date. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. He wasn’t ready to risk that he might be reading this wrong. He’d done it before, and for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, it felt so much more dangerous now.

“I mean, it would be weird if you didn’t, right?” he said instead. “Since my entire family thinks we’re together still.”

“Right.” Simon looked back at the book in his lap, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Jace could almost imagine he sounded disappointed. “Totally weird. I think Clary’s expecting me to be there, anyway.”

“Cool. I’ll RSVP you as my plus-one.”

Simon made a soft noise of affirmation and returned to his reading. Jace tried to go back to his, but he found himself unable to concentrate. After reading the same paragraph five times and not retaining a single word of it, he gave up and let his head loll against the back of the couch, cheek resting lightly against the top of Simon’s head. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

Jace was pulled out of sleep sometime later by gentle fingers stroking through his hair. He scrunched up his face and made an unhappy noise; he wasn’t ready to be awake.

“If you’re going to sleep, you should go to bed.”

Jace cracked an eye open to find Simon watching him with a fond smile. Still half-asleep, it was easy to smile back, something warm and soft settling in his chest. Sometime while he slept, they’d shifted again so Simon was leaning back against the arm of the couch with Jace sprawled half on top of him. Simon’s books were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Jace wondered how long they’d been there.

“‘M comfy.”

Simon chuckled. “You won’t be if you stay here all night and wake up with a sore back.”

Jace thought that spending the night with Simon as his pillow might be worth waking up with a sore back, but the fog of sleep had lifted enough that the feeling of impending danger was returning. He pushed himself up to sitting and immediately missed Simon’s warmth.

“I think I’m a couple decades away from waking up with a sore back from one night spent on the couch.”

He reached for his dirty bowl, still sitting on the table, but Simon stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Leave it. You’re tired; I’ve got the dishes.”

Jace frowned at him.

“Go to bed,” Simon insisted with a laugh. “You’re obviously exhausted.”

It was the laugh that got him. The way Simon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. The way he always smiled wide enough to show teeth. The way it never failed to tug at something inside Jace, urging him to smile back no matter how much he might resist it. Except this time it was less of a tug than a wrench that threatened to break him wide open.

Jace remembered, with sudden, vivid clarity, that drunken conversation he’d had with Maia last year. The one he tried to forget ever happened.

They’d all be hanging out at Maia’s new apartment, a tiny studio that wasn’t really big enough to host a six-person housewarming party, but they’d made it work because she was so proud of finally making good enough tips she could afford to live in her own place off campus.

Everyone but Jace had early morning classes that semester, so he’d stayed behind to keep the party going with Maia while the others had headed home. Jace didn’t remember how many shots it had taken for him to start complaining about Simon’s propensity for wandering around the apartment in only a towel, but he absolutely remembered Maia’s knowing grin.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

“It’s not a crush,” Jace had insisted. “He’s just annoyingly hot.” If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have spoken the next words. He wouldn’t have even let himself think them. “And I bet he’d be stupidly easy to fall in love with, too.”

And then Maia had laughed so hard she’d fallen over onto her cheap, beige carpet that still smelled faintly of new plastic while Jace was left to deal with the slowly dawning realization of what he’d just said.

“Before you fall asleep again,” Simon prompted, snapping Jace’s mind back to the present. Where Simon was smiling at him with an indisputable fondness that made Jace feel raw and exposed.

“Right,” Jace said, practically jumping up from the couch. “Bed. Thanks. For,” he waved his hand vaguely, “dishes and whatever.”

“No problem,” Simon said, bemused. “Sleep well.”

Jace understood what that feeling of danger was about now. It seemed there was some truth to that old adage about finding answers at the bottom of a bottle; it had been so easy, he wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen in love.

~~~

“You’re sure this is a classic?” Jace eyed the grainy opening shots of the movie playing on Simon’s laptop with some skepticism.

They normally did movie night out in the living room, on the flat-screen TV that had probably cost more than every other piece of furniture in their apartment combined, but Simon insisted a film this old would look ridiculous on a large HD screen. Considering how bad it looked even on Simon’s old laptop, it was probably the right call. And Jace wasn’t going to complain about having to squish together on Simon’s bed so they could both see the screen, even if that did make it feel perilously close to being a date.

“Cult classic,” Simon corrected. “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama is, like, peak so-bad-it’s-good 80’s horror comedy. And they’re making a sequel with the original cast, so you have to watch the original.”

Jace grabbed a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in Simon’s lap. “You mean so you can drag me to the sequel when it comes out?”

“Exactly.” Simon grinned at him. “Thanks for offering to see it with me.”

“That’s not what just happened,” Jace said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Agree to disagree.”

The movie turned out to be surprisingly entertaining, film quality and 80’s aesthetics notwithstanding. And the atrocious special effects. And, well, the entire plot, really.

“Do you think sororities were really like that back in the 80’s?” Simon wondered as the titular sorority babes outlined the hazing their pledges would undergo.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of them still are,” Jace said. “But Greek life isn’t really my thing, even if I have seen the inside of a few sorority houses in my time.”

“Was that supposed to be a flex?”

Jace ignored that comment and pulled out his phone. “Alec might know, though.”

Simon leaned in to watch Jace type, resting his chin on Jace’s shoulder. “I know I’ve only met your brother once, but I’m having trouble picturing him anywhere near a sorority.”

“Alec was in a fraternity in college,” Jace explained.

“Yeah, no, still not seeing it.” Even after Jace sent the text, he didn’t move away.

Alec’s response came only moments later.

why would I know that Phi Beta Kappa is an academic fraternity and sorority girls are well outside my areas of interest

“Okay, that makes sense.” Simon slid the bowl of popcorn off his lap so he could lean more fully into Jace’s side.

maybe ask Iz

Jace snorted and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He reached for the popcorn and gave an irritated huff when he found it just out of reach.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Simon grabbed the bowl and moved it to Jace’s other side. On impulse, Jace caught his hand and laced their fingers together. They hadn’t talked about that night on the couch—not about the casual intimacy or Simon wearing Jace’s ring around his neck or Jace falling asleep on Simon or any of it—but there was no question things were different between them since. Or maybe it was just Jace that was different, knowing how deep he was in this just making him more reckless with his heart.

Simon’s fingers curled around his, his arm coming to rest draped over Jace’s hip as he let out a small, contented sigh.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Jace. But Jace wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He could probably have written an entire treatise on navigating hookups, but he had no idea how to navigate…whatever this was. The only experience he had with actual romantic relationships was with Clary, and despite how fucked up they’d both been back then—or maybe even because they’d both been so fucked up—there had never been any ambiguity about how they felt, no questions about what they were to each other. No wondering if she knew she could do so much better than him.

It was different with Simon. Simon, who never seemed fazed by the shit life threw at him. Simon, who actually dated, and always seemed to leave a breakup on good terms. Simon, who held him like he was afraid Jace might break, who fucked him like he wanted him to break.

Simon, who had to know he could do better than Jace.

“Let me guess,” Jace said as the two characters he’d mentally tagged as the protagonists ducked into a closet to escape a demonic minion, “the nerd and the hot bad girl are the only survivors, and they get together at the end.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “You don’t get any points for guessing that. This is a comedy made in the 80’s that leans heavily into the tropes of the era.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I guessed it. I just figured you’d be into the whole ‘nerd gets the bad girl’ thing.”

“That’s not why I like this movie,” Simon said. “But Spider might have been part of why 12-year-old me liked this movie,” he admitted.

“Thought so,” Jace said smugly.

“You’re the worst.” Simon’s arm tightened around Jace’s waist, belying his words. “I’m seriously questioning why I even like you right now.”

“Because I’m charming, witty, and great in bed.”

The smile Simon flashed him probably shouldn’t have made Jace’s stomach do a pleasant little flip, but it did. “Those are some pretty great selling points.”

“Watch your dumb movie,” Jace said, trying and failing to hide his own smile.

When Jace’s phone buzzed several minutes later during a particularly tense scene, they both jumped. Jace pulled it out to check his new messages, then chuckled and turned the screen so Simon could read Alec’s message.

Magnus says there was at least one sorority exactly like that five years ago also I’m now being subjected to this atrocious movie, so thanks for that

“I knew Magnus would have good taste in movies,” Simon commented.

“I’m disturbed you can even talk about this movie and good taste in the same sentence.”

“Oh, come on,” Simon said reproachfully. “Didn’t you once tell me that any movie with boobs and explosions was a good movie?”

“Yeah, but this movie doesn’t have any—” On screen, the nerd threw a Molotov cocktail at a possessed sorority babe. Jace sighed. “Objection withdrawn.”

Simon flashed him a smug grin. “Admit it, I’ve got fantastic taste.”

Jace smirked. “I do like the way you taste.”

“Not what I—” He cut off as Jace illustrated his point by licking a line up Simon’s throat.

Simon let out a hiss. “You’re going to miss the end of the movie.” He didn’t pull away.

“Told you,” Jace murmured, scraping teeth along his jaw, “I already know the nerd and biker girl are going to survive. I don’t need to see the end.”

Simon turned his head to catch Jace’s lips with his own in a surprisingly gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup Jace’s cheek. They stayed like that for what felt to Jace like hours but couldn’t actually have been more than a minute or two judging by the tinny screams coming from the laptop speakers.

“What do you need?” Simon whispered when he finally broke the kiss. His tone was teasing, but the way his thumb caressed Jace’s cheekbone was all sincerity.

“Just this,” Jace whispered back, and it was the truest thing he’d ever said.

Then they were kissing again, slow and soft, and Jace thought he might drown in it, thought he might want to drown in it. He kissed Simon like he’d been wanting to for weeks, for months. Maybe longer. He put everything he felt into the kiss—his hope and his love and his fear—and prayed that Simon would understand, that he wouldn’t pull away.

He didn’t.

They kissed until they were breathless with it, until the last strains of the movie’s closing credits had long since faded away, until there was no room for anything in Jace’s thoughts and heart and dreams but Simon. He knew he was grinning like an idiot when they finally broke apart, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially not with Simon grinning back at him.

“See?” Jace combed a hand through Simon’s curls. He couldn’t stop touching. “Way better than that movie.”

“You don’t know that,” Simon protested. “You didn’t even watch the end. It could have been twenty straight minutes of boobs and explosions, and you’d never even know.”

“Weirdly, I think I might like kissing you even more than I like boobs and explosions.”

“Wow, high praise.” Simon was still teasing, and Jace suddenly needed him to understand how much he wasn’t really joking.

“No, seriously.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Simon’s neck, drew him close enough to feel his breath. “I—” Words he meant far too much—that would be too much—stuck behind his teeth. “I’m not really here for the movie,” he said instead. “No matter how many boobs or explosions it has. You get that, right?”

“I—yeah.”

There was something subdued and almost vulnerable in Simon’s voice, something that didn’t quite track with the conversation they were having, but before Jace could even catch the thread of it, he was being pushed back into the bed and kissed breathless once again. By the time Simon was tugging his shirt over his head, brushing calloused fingertips over a peaked nipple and making him gasp, Jace thought he must have imagined it.

Simon took him apart slowly, deliberately, maintaining a calm focus even when Jace teased, never altering his pace even when Jace begged. And Jace did beg, edging on desperation before they even got all their clothes off. By the time Simon had him spread out on the bed, opening him up with slick fingers and teasing his dick with strokes far too light to even approach enough, Jace wasn’t sure he was capable of anything but begging.

“Simon, please.” He scrabbled ineffectually at Simon’s shoulders, trying ineffectually to drag him close. The angle was bad for it, but Simon was also strong, something that was easy to forget until they were like this. It was also seriously fucking hot. “Please. Fuck. Need you in me already, please.”

“You’re so beautiful.” There was an edge to Simon’s voice, but Jace still thought he sounded far too composed for what they were doing, for what he was doing to Jace. “God, do you even know?”

Jace couldn’t even begin to answer, because Simon chose that moment to press his fingers very deliberately against Jace’s prostate, and the only words Jace was capable of anymore were garbled curses and Simon’s name.

“You have to know.” Simon withdrew his fingers and all Jace could do was whine in protest. “I bet people tell you all the time.”

Jace shook his head, not sure if he was disagreeing or just objecting to the sudden tragic lack of Simon’s hands on him and in him. Simon pressed a soothing kiss to his knee before pulling away to roll a condom onto his own dick, which took way too long in Jace’s opinion, but it was enough time for Jace to find his voice again.

“Please, Simon.” His voice was half a sob, and he didn’t even care. “Need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Simon breathed, the faintest tremor in his voice as leaned in to line his cock up with Jace’s hole and brushed the lightest of kisses against his lips.

“Yes,” Jace whispered. “Yes, please.”

And then Simon was finally, finally pushing inside, and Jace was rocking down against him, desperate and greedy for everything Simon was willing to give him. It took exactly two thrusts for Simon’s composure to crack completely, and Jace swallowed down his moans as greedily as he took everything else, licking into Simon’s mouth to chase every sound.

Jace would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came after that, lasting maybe a full ten seconds after Simon wrapped a hand around his dick, except that Simon was right there with him, following him over the edge with a barely audible, “Fuck, fuck, Jace, oh god.”

After, they lay next to each other on the bed, catching their breaths. This would normally be when one of them left to go back to their own room, or went to take a shower, or make food, or anything, really, to keep this thing between them from seeming like more than it was. Except it was more for Jace. Maybe for both of them.

“You’ve got me.”

Jace wasn’t sure if Simon had meant the words the way Jace wanted him to, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the possibility that he did. Trying not to overthink it, he curled into Simon’s side, resting a hand on his chest.

For a few seconds, Simon went absolutely still, and Jace thought for sure he’d fucked everything up. But just as cold dread was beginning to claw its way up his throat, Simon let out a shaky breath and cuddled closer, pulling the blanket up to cover them both and covering Jace’s hand with his own. Jace smiled into Simon’s shoulder.

“You’ve got me.”

He would hold onto that for as long as Simon let him.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis #pun absolutely intended #i regret nothing

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annhellsing · 4 years

Text

Rough One

notes: soooo i started this at a deeply unchristian hour and it turned smutty on me, of course it did. welcome to keishin fucker’s anonymous!!! rating: explicit, there’s wall sex!! pairing: ukai keishin / reader word count: 2,322

It’s difficult, remembering to romanticize even the unkind moments in your life. And waking up before six o’clock in the morning, you’re convinced, is deeply unkind.

You can see Kurasuno high school on the hill, at the other end of the steep slope. It looks clean and faint-orange in the half-sunrise from your spot far down the street. You stare, in a haze of wishing you were still asleep for several minutes.

And then you return to your senses. You lift your chin up a fraction and breathe in cold, early-spring air. The storefront to your right is crowded outside with vending machines, you’re almost tempted to grab a bottle of iced coffee and try to take a nap in your office.

But you shake your head, too tired merely dismiss the thought in your mind. The bell rings above your head when you open the door.

A man sits behind the counter, his hair spiked and his eyes tired. His bangs are held back with a headband, you pause a moment before turning down an aisle to look at him. He’s blonde and handsome, with his nose buried in a magazine.

He looks up at you just for a second before returning to the article he’s reading. His smile is slow and sleepy. It makes you feel warm in the pit of your stomach.

“Morning,” he offers up when he isn’t looking at you any more. You nod.

“Good morning,” you return.

You drift off down the aisle sporting bandages and rubbing alcohol, picking up a bottle of contact solution. Then you stare blankly at the labels on the pre-packaged food, considering breakfast somewhat distantly. The only time your vision is in any way pointed is when you turn your head to look at the clerk.

He’s more than handsome, you decide.

You think of your bed and its fluffy duvet, unmade and well-loved. You washed your sheets last night, and rolling between them with him would be nice. Passing in and out of sleep, his lips at your neck and shoulder.

You look at him again, at his tongue that darts out to wet his upper lip. His eyes aren’t moving across the magazine page.

He’s handsome and you want to take him home.

Your shoulders droop and you decide on what you’re going to eat, picking up the package and tucking it under your arm. As much as you’d like to mill about, stealing glances at this very beautiful man-- it’s getting later by the second. And you’ve made promises this morning.

“Just this?” he asks when you set your items down on the counter. He’s set his magazine down in preparation. And though he seems as sleep-addled as you, you appear to have his full attention.

“Mm,” you mutter in return. He quirks an eyebrow.

“You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he replies, gesturing to the heatbox at his elbow where meat buns slowly spin. “Want one of these? No charge.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, giving a little smile that borders on playful. And he seems almost embarrassed at the offering.

“The high schoolers eat ‘em all up around eight, so you’re here just in time,” he continues. You shrug and open the heat box, taking a bun and putting it on the counter for him to ring up.

“I promised I’d meet my boyfriend up at the gym,” you say, “he coaches the volleyball team. I wanted to see them practice.”

“You must love him an awful lot to get up this early,” he comments. You smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “Hey, I was in the medicine aisle and--”

“Something not there?” he asks, he almost looks impatient. Your smile widens.

“Condoms,” you say, “you sell that here?”

He glances at the door behind you, then at the clock on the wall immediately above it. Then, he returns your impish smile and stands up from his stool.

“In the back,” he says, “be lucky my mother’s not here.”

“Lead the way,” you reply, your purchases forgotten on the counter.

You follow close behind him, putting your hands on Keishin’s waist. He feels warm, his pace slowing considerably so that you can fold your arms around him.

“I said in the back for a reason,” he tells you, “I don’t want to traumatize my customers.”

“I love you,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. His blue tracksuit is faded and worn, the material scratching your lips. He sighs.

“Love you, too,” he says, “come on, we gotta be up at the gym in half an hour.”

“Wow,” you start, he takes your hand and keeps walking. You’re pulled along behind him. “I have you all to myself for a whole half hour? Think of the possibilities.”

“Oh, I have,” he says, “weird stunt, pretending you don’t know me.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you admit, “it was kinda hot, though.”

“You make the oddest shit really hot,” he replies. That heat in your stomach burns a little brighter. “That’s a compliment,” he adds.

“Thank you,” you say.

His hand, the one not gripped in yours, reaches into his tracksuit pocket. Keishin takes out the back room key and unlocks the door, flicking the light on as he guides you inside. The door is safely locked behind you.

“Someone could rob the place,” you tell him. But he’s already turned around, an expression other than exhaustion on his face.

“You think I care?” he asks. You shake your head.

You move towards him, putting your hands on his broad chest and moving him back towards the wall. The shelves are stacked close together with overstock items, but there’s enough room to move between them. You press Keishin back against the wall, applying affectionate pressure.

“I was thinking about you,” you say, “what we could be up to right now if we were both home.”

“Well, it is Friday,” he says, “I don’t have to coach on Saturdays until ten o’clock.”

“We can have more fun tomorrow,” you start, moving closer and pressing your chest against his. You dip your head, taking a soft kiss from him that he eagerly returns. “But I want you now.”

“You got me,” he smiles. He kisses you again, just a quick peck, like he needs it to live. “You can have me.”

You intend to.

You take his tracksuit zipper and tug it down, opening his jacket. You push your hands under his shirt, and though he flinches at how cold they are, he doesn’t complain. His chest is soft, but you can feel firm muscle underneath as you press him back against the wall.

Keishin turns his head to the side, covering his mouth just in time as he yawns. And though you try to giggle at him, the same compulsion takes you over.

“Jerk,” you kiss him again, for longer this time. He tastes like cigarettes and you don’t have the energy to tease him about that. But he can tell when you pull away that it’s a conscious choice not to comment.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, like he’s trying to make up for it. You roll your eyes.

“I know,” you say, leaning in again and kissing his jaw. Your hands push his shirt up his chest, but you’re too short on time to undress him. “So are you.”

The chatter fades to sluggish silence, broken up by the sound of Keishin’s appreciatory grunts. When you nip at his neck, his head lolls back to allow you better access. You hold him, pressed between your chest and the wall. Your heartbeat is loud as thunder against his, he wishes he had three hours at hand.

No, he doesn’t. He knows how important practice is to his team, how much of a fight it is to force them to sleep in on Saturdays. But his mind drifts to tomorrow, to doing this with more time to spare.

He rolls his shoulders, pressing back against you. When your hand skirts over the front of his pants, Keishin groans in your ear. The sound wakes you up a little bit, spurs you to action. You palm him a little more heavily, feeling his half-hard bulge stir and throb.

“You were thinking about me,” you say. He laughs, still close to your ear. The sound raises goosebumps on your neck.

“I already told you that,” he reminds you. Keishin cuts himself off with a low moan when your hand slips past the waistband of his pants. But, even with the time crunch you seem determined to be a tease.

You toy with him over his boxers, pressing your palm harder against him. He leans back against the wall, going rigid before relaxing. His smirk is still tired, but now it’s for a different reason.

“Love you,” you tell him again, placing a delicate kiss at the corner of his mouth. He turns his head, chasing your lips.

“Love you, too,” he sighs.

“Where are the condoms, Kei?” you ask, nudging his jugular with your nose. You kiss where his pulse point flutters.

His hand darts out, fumbling on the shelf beside you. He turns to look only for a second, grabbing the first box he touches and giving them up.

“Switch with me,” he says, you inspect the box and tear the top open. His hands on his shoulders guide you around him until your back is pressed against the wall instead.

“All right,” you say, “but don’t get any funny ideas. Who’s in charge here?”

“Trust me,” he huffs, “it’s you. It’s always going to be you.”

You smile at that, happy to find genuine earnestness overcoming the sleepy expression on his face. Keishin stands back far enough for you to shift the box of condoms from your hand to the crook of your elbow, you push his pants down his thighs.

“Wait--” he starts, “hang on, I want to--”

“Ten minutes or less,” you warn him, “I know how you get when you’re fingering me. You can go forever.”

“Only you would think that’s a bad thing,” he mumbles. But he kisses your exasperated look away, and in the very same breath that he coaxes you to lift your leg.

You hook it around his hip, granting him access up your skirt and between your legs. Keishin wastes none of the precious time he has to begin his exploration, dragging the pads of his middle and ring finger over the crotch of your panties.

The box of condoms slips, you hurry to snatch a packet from it before your grip fails and it falls to the ground. With one in your fist, you loop your arms around his neck.

“You’re pretty,” he tells you, hooking his finger through the gusset and tugging the cloth aside. He’s gentle, almost to a fault and when he circles your clit it’s almost frustratingly light in pressure.

“More,” you whisper, “now. We don’t have time for teasing.”

“Hey,” he says, “you’re telling me you weren’t being a tease when you had your hand down my pants?”

“That’s different,” you sigh.

“Yeah, how?” he asks. You shake your head.

“It’s funny to watch you look so needy,” you reply.

“Funny, huh?” he asks, you open your eyes and watch his expression turn playfully sinister. “Well, I could say the same about you.”

“Whatever happened to me--” you cut yourself off, strangling a moan as Keishin finally deigns to press a little harder on your clit. It’s not painful, far from it, it’s the perfect amount of contact. It takes a moment for you to right yourself before repeating, “What happened to me being in charge?”

“You call the shots, same as always,” he says. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you insist, gripping his neck ever-tighter. “Please, no.”

“Since you asked so nicely--” he teases, slipping his fingers forward and sinking one inside you.

It’s jarring how quickly it happens, Kei can draw out foreplay with the best of them. But you look at the storeroom clock and realize with a sinking feeling in your stomach that it’s already fifteen minutes to seven.

“Hurry,” you whisper, tugging on his jacket with more impatience than you have energy.

“We got time,” he says, “we still got time. Come here.”

You’re pulled against him, hugged tight with one arm and your back is spared the wall. Keishin holds you there for a moment, wrapping you up in his warmth and the faint smell of smoke. You wish, more than anything, that you could fall asleep like that.

“Give me the rubber, babe,” he says. You drop it into his open palm and snake your arm back around his neck as quickly as you can.

He fumbles with it, content to lead while you have a rest. He tears the foil with his teeth and wastes no time rolling it down his cock.

“Ready?” he asks. You lift your head from his shoulder and kiss his cheek.

“Yes,” you tell him. He shifts, holding you against the wall and lining himself up.

In a slow, unassuming motion, Keishin eases into you. You fall forward again on his shoulder, too warm and content to stifle a moan.

“Now, that’s what I like to hear,” he grunts, pushing inside slow enough that you feel only a pleasant stretch.

His hand helping your leg stay wrapped around him relocates, finding its new home just above your joining. He teases your clit just as before, applying barely any pressure.

He starts up fast, rocking his hips and setting a pace that has you reeling. His middle finger presses harder, tapping and rolling over your clit in time with his shallow thrusts. You grab him tight, burying your head in his neck. You’re determined to leave as many love bites as you can below the collar, before you run out of time.

#ukai keishin #keishin ukai #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #ukai #ukai x reader #keishin x reader #keishin ukai x reader #ukai keishin x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu ukai #anniewrites #winks @ u all #this came outta almost nowhere #i did mean to write this for a while but #it happened quicker than i thought!!

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liquidstar · 3 years

Note

I'd love to hear some of your recommendations! And I'm good without any content warnings, but since you're posting this for all your followers to see probably best to add them

Alright sure! I’ll be general then and since you’re just starting out this will sort of be bringing up a lot of really popular ones, the really good ones where the general consensus is “you gotta see this!”, but I’ll also try to give ones from different genres so you have a variety of things to pick from, so this isn’t really a list of personal favorites but I’ll throw in a couple of those too lol, but generally think of this as a handy beginners guide with just a little personal bias.

I wrote a lot so I'm gonna put them under the cut here.

Fullmetal Alchemist

Fullmetal Alchemist is a franchise that’s considered a must-watch, it takes place in a world where alchemy is a borderline magical power, but is considered scientific in-universe and follows scientific laws, namely the law of equivalent exchange. Something can’t be made from nothing, to gain something of equal value must be lost. The story follows the story of two brothers, Edward and Alphonse Elric, who at the ages of 10 and 11 committed alchemy’s one and only unforgivable sin, human transmutation, in an attempt to bring their mother back to life. As a result, one brother lost his arm and leg and the other lost his entire body, leaving his soul bound to a suit of armor. However the brothers are resolute to regain their original bodies, and the older brother, Edward, joins the State Alchemists, a branch of the military, to try to gain access to research materials to help them achieve their goal. But was that really such a good idea?

Fullmetal Alchemist can be a bit confusing to get into due to the fact that there are two series: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (2009). The latter is a reboot with a different story that follows the original manga. They both have the same beginning, but diverge paths and tell very different stories. My recommendation for how to watch this show is: Watch 2003 first, and Brotherhood second. Everyone has a different opinion about which is better, but everyone agrees that 2003 has better backstory but a contrived ending, and Brotherhood has a rushed beginning (Because it works off the assumption that you’ve seen 2003) with a great and fulfilling ending. If you can’t do both I say just watch Brotherhood because it will leave you more satisfied and you don’t have to watch 03 to get into it.

For both series the biggest trigger warnings are: Parental death, child death, pet death, war, genocide, dismemberment, religious themes, and miscarriage. For brotherhood specifically: on-screen suicide, and for 2003 specifically: rape (not on-screen) and pregnancy from it. The 2003 series is also a lot darker than Brotherhood which has a more optimistic tone, so that’s worth noting too.

Soul Eater

A show I think is incredibly fun, and a good one for an October watch if you wanna save it. It takes place in a world where certain people have the ability to transform into weapons, and they team up with other people who become their meisters. The characters often travel around, but the main setting is Death City, a fictional city in Nevada based off of Las Vegas but with a huge Halloweentown vibe, and a school right at the top of it called the Death Weapon Meister Academy (DWMA) where a bunch of kids that turn into weapons learn how to hunt down witches and kishins (Beings that consume human souls). The school, of course, is run by the grim reaper, Lord Death himself.

Our main characters for the series are a group of 7 students. Our protagonist Maka Albarn and her weapon partner Soul “Eater” Evans, a scythe. A loud mouth assassin named Black✰Star and his weapon partner Tsubaki, who has many weapon forms. And the son of the grim reaper, Death The Kid, and his two weapon partners Liz and Patty Thompson, who are twin pistols. There are also a bunch of really lively colorful background characters and antagonists, and the cast of the show being as insane as it is really makes it, on top of the great atmosphere and of course the plot, which just builds more and more as the series progresses. Also Crona is there and we all love Crona.

Trigger warnings for this show include: Child abuse (Mental and physical), manipulation, snakes and spiders (The motifs of two major villains), some very surreal moments that can verge on unreality. Also, in the dub and most subs: misgendering of a canonically trans character. Crona is a character who is non-binary, but the dub and subs use gendered pronouns for them due to general ignorance about neutral pronouns in 2008, though this isn’t the fault of the original series and falls on the translators hands.

Also it’s important to note: that the first 3 episodes are prologues and they take themselves less seriously, there’s more fanservice in them than there is in the rest of the series (Except for Blair she stays the fanservice character :pensive:)

Zombieland Saga

Idol anime is really prevalent as a genre, the most popular being Love Live, but my personal favorite is Zombieland Saga. It’s an idol anime, but it’s also a comedy about zombie girls who become idols. It sounds ridiculous but there’s an insane amount of heart in it regardless, it wasn’t a show I expected to get emotional at but I did! It also made me laugh a lot too. The series itself can serve as a bit of a subversion on what idols are, not just because they’re literally zombies, but because of who the characters are.

Sakura Minamoto is a character who starts off as a more typical idol, a peppy pure girl, as the series continues her struggle with depression gets highlighted. Saki Nikaido serves as her initial foil, a delinquent girl with a criminal record who subvers the idea of pure perfect idols. Ai Mizuno, a former idol who has since undergone severe trauma (The way she died). Junko Konno who has ideals that seem very different on what idols “should” be due to the time period she died. Lily Hoshikawa, an explicitly transgender idol. Yugiri nolastname, a former high ranking courtesan, subvering the pure image of an idol by being a sex worker. And Tae Yamada, a completely nonverbal idol who’s still treated with the same amount of importance as the rest of the team. The premise here really is just that these girls don’t fit the incredibly rigid mold of what idols should be and yet they still all deserve love and they gain a fanbase by being their earnest selves.

Trigger warnings for this series aren’t incredibly severe but since they’re zombies there’s still talks about death and they way they died (Including motorcycle/car accidents, plane crashes, getting struck by lightning, and a heart attack), there’s also comedic dismemberment, as in their arms just sort of pop on and off and stuff like that. The most notable thing is the deadnaming of Lily, the trans idol, by her father, but it doesn’t appear to be malicious in any way.

Note: this series is in the middle of it’s second season right now, if you want to wait until it’s over it should be 12 episodes long and just aired it’s 3rd, so about 9 more weeks.

Death Note

This is also absolutely another series that gets recommended to people right off the bat, and for good reason, this show is an intricate game of chess between a serial killer and a detective trying to catch him, and it’s incredibly easy to get super invested in the suspense of what happens next. The story begins when a shinigami, a god of death, drops his “Death Note” into the human world out of pure boredom. A Death Note is simply a notebook where if you write someone's name in it… They die! And who better to pick up such a powerful object than Light Yagami, a prodigy praised for his genius and academy accomplishments as well as his charm and popularity, and with a very strong but juvenile black-and-white sense of justice, likely due to being raised by a cop.

So naturally Light begins his power trip as soon as he finds the notebook, he intends to “fix” the world by cleansing it of all the bad people, but truly he intends to become the world’s new god. Or the “God of the new world” as he puts it. But there’s one thing standing in his way, a detective resolute on catching him with the codename L. The series entire crux is a game of cat and mouse between these two, as they try to outsmart each other and the murders continue, Light loses more and more of his humanity, L becomes more resolute on catching him. There are more twists and turns than a cheetah race, and it’s honestly pretty addictive to see what happens next.

Trigger warnings here obviously include a lot of death and murder, including suicide, but in some cases it’s a forced suicide at Light’s hands. Also abuse, as Light loses his humanity he isn’t above manipulating and discarding people who love him. And one instance of near-rape on screen fairly early on, but the purpitrator dies before it happens and the victim escapes.

K-On!

Slice-of-life is an incredibly popular genre, and K-On! is the quintessential example of it. It’s a series that not everyone will like, because not a lot truly happens, and it can be overly saccharine or “moe” for a lot of people, and that’s fine. But I personally think that despite not a lot happening, the story has genuine substance, more than you may gather at first glance. It’s true that not much in the way of big plot really happens, it’s mostly life events, that’s why it's a slice-of-life. But it’s not about nothing. The real theme of the show is the fleeting nature of youth. It’s about how important the friendships you form at that time are, how they’ll stick with you for a lifetime, and how everything comes to an end. It’s sweetness even becomes a little bittersweet because you knew their after school tea time would end come graduation, and as they realize this it breaks their hearts a little, but they continue on, because they’re still After School Tea Time!

The series itself is simply about 5 girls in a band, Yui Hirasawa on lead guitar, Mio Akiyama on the bass, Ritsu Tainaka on the Drums, Tsumugi Kotobuki on the Keyboard, and Azusa Nakano on Rhythm Guitar (Who shows up later). They’re in a club at school called the light music club where they waste a lot of their time just drinking tea and eating cake, but they’re having fun and that’s what counts! The series has a lot of really great direction and expressive animation despite the fact that a lot of it is just sitting around and talking, it’s incredibly visually interesting so you don’t get bored.

I honestly don’t think there are any big trigger warnings I can give for this series, maybe that Sawa-chan can be a little too forceful when she wants to dress up the girls in cute outfits sometimes but it’s usually not presented as too creepy especially after season 1 where they tone it down due to straying from the manga.

Mob Psycho 100

This series is an absolute love letter to the art of animation as a whole, the artstyle itself may not seem like much to look at but the animation is some of the most expressive, fluid, creative, and vibrant out there right now, it’s the type of series that you can tell was made with a real passion for its medium and it’s story. It’s protagonist is Shigeo Kageyama, nicknamed “Mob”, a term that literally means “Background character”. Mob is a middle school kid and an incredibly powerful psychic, like, insanely overpowered, but he’s currently working part time for a shady conman, Reigen Arataka. Though it may seem as if Reigen is just using Mob for his powers, their bond is actually a very sweet one and you can tell they care for each other, it’s a very important one at the heart of the series.

The core themes of the series itself are what really make it shine, it’s message is stated as clearly as possible in the opening songs, “your life is your own” and “if everyone is not special, maybe you can be what you want to be”. Put simply, you’re the protagonist of your own life, but the other important message of the series is that all the supposed background characters are just as important. The friends you make, the connections you have with other people and the way they impact you, they’re what make you strong. No one is born special, everyone is just a normal person, and everyone deserves kindness. It’s a series that I recommend incredibly strongly for just how powerfully it portrays this message.

Trigger warnings for this series include kidnapping, possession, a scene with a “man in a dress” joke, and a racist design for a background character. Also (spoilers) a scene where it seems like a child was murdered and a scene where it seems like Mob’s entire family was murdered.

Kaguya-Sama: Love Is War!

Hey, speaking of amazing animation, Kaguya-Sama is a romantic comedy series centered around the premise of two incredibly arrogant people falling in love. Kaguya Shinomiya and Miyuki Shirogane are the vice president and president of the student council at the prestigious Shuchi'in Academy, they eventually develop feelings for each other but they’re both simultaneously too proud and too insecure to admit it, so the real crux of the series is the 3D chess they play with each other to try and get the other to confess first. Along with the scatterbrained secretary, Chika Fujiawara, the treasurer in desperate need of Prozac Yu Ishigami, the cast is incredibly fun and they all fit into the comedy great. Every single little game of “do you like me?” that they play is written like the most intense thing in the world, the insane animation absolutely adds to it, making it seem almost like a psychological thriller, the comedy comes from the absurdity of just how much they hyperbolize it.

It’s not pure comedy though, due to a lot of the series being set up around mindgames, the characters are actually fairly psychologically complex with a lot of genuine development stemming from their childhood to explain why they are the way they are. The series may be about mindgames, but the actual narrative frames them as a juvenile way to go about relationships, a way to try to protect yourself from getting hurt because you’re afraid to trust. The entire core theme is that communication in relationships of any kind is the most important thing and you cant replace it with clever little tricks, so the main pair only ever make actual progress when they’re actually upfront with each other. Even if it’s scary to be that vulnerable with someone, especially if you’ve been hurt in the past like they have, the relationships you build off of mutual trust and openness will be worth the risk, and they can help heal you. And one of the things I love about the series is that this doesn’t just apply to the main pair, but it places equal emphasis on the importance of friendship. All the characters' relationships with each other are unique and interesting and they all develop the same way, with trust and openness, and they become better because of each other.

Despite being generally a comedy, a lot of the characters deal with some really heavy things too so trigger warning for: child abuse (not on-screen), child abandonment (again not on screen), anxiety and panic attacks, suicidal ideation- initionally played off as a joke but it becomes very obvious the character in question is legitimately suicidal and in the manga he nearly attempts it but is stopped, this plotpoint will most likely be in the anime at some point as it’s also not complete.

Your Lie In April

Alright I gave you a funny show now I’m going to make you cry. In fact it’s hard for me to type this synopsis because I’m an absolute crybaby and thinking about this show gets me, but I think it’s absolutely worth checking out because it’s a very beautiful sadness. Your Lie In April is a series that follows the stress and trauma young musical prodigies face in their lives, as well as the people around them, and it’s a series about the beauty of music and art, and just how much it affects people. The music in the show is absolutely gorgeous, the way that they convey emotion through it is so beautiful and intricate that it just sticks with you. You feel the music, and you understand.

I’m actually going to give the trigger warnings right now instead of at the end because in order to explain the plot I’ll have to talk about them so tw for: Child abuse (phsyical and mental, on-screen), terminal illness, death, in depth depictions of PTSD, vomiting, panic attacks, the works.

The series follows Kousei Arima, a formal piano prodigy who hasn’t performed since the death of his mother two years ago. Kousei's mother was terminally ill, but she was also incredibly abusive. Kousei has incredibly complex feelings about his mother because of this. The trauma she instilled in him is severe, but because he was a child, he still is a child, and he loved his mom a lot, as any child would, and he didn’t want her to die and he blames himself for not being good enough. He wanted to make her happy, and the only way he knew how to do that was to play the piano. So he played and played and practiced until he was perfect, they called him the human metronome. But he would still get severely punished for being anything less than perfect. He had lost all the passion he once had, and after his mother died it was the final nail in the coffin, his trauma manifests now in a way that makes him unable to play. But all that changes one day in April when he meets a violinist named Kaori Miyazono, a girl full of life and passion for music, she’s someone who according to Kousei “Exists in springtime.” and she’s going to help him play again and refined that love for music whether he wants to or not! Teen drama happens of course, but there are much bigger roadblocks ahead.

Assassination Classroom

This series is thankfully generally more lighthearted… Most of the time at least. The premise is pretty simple, but incredibly ridiculous. An incredibly powerful octopus-like creature is the teacher of a classroom of middle school students tasked with the assignment of assassinating him in order to save the world. The series starts off very slice-of-life as it focuses on introducing the very large cast of characters inside of Class E, also known as the “end class”, but it quickly gains traction and gets a lot more intense as time goes on.

The octopus creature in question, Korosensei, is actually a very kind and genuinely good teacher to all his students. The real crux of the series is that it’s sort of a critique on the educational system, the students in the end class are there because they’ve been ostracized from the rest of the campus, far away in the mountains, to be made examples of. Why? Because they’re students that are considered worthless, instead of getting help they’re only pushed back further down in the system and left to struggle within it fruitlessly. They’re given up on, despite being children with so much potential, because they don’t fit a very rigid mold. That’s what Korosensei wants to help them with, and they’re able to grow as people together. As the series progresses you feel such a great sense of unity for the class, they’re like a family, they stick together and it’s very heartwarming. And watching them work as a team of assassins is so fun!

However the series can get heavy at times too, it doesn’t stray from heavier subject matter at all and i found myself incredibly shocked by it a few times, so trigger warning for: Child abuse (on-screen and off), both at the hands of a parent and a teacher and in one case a parent who is also the principal, misgendering of a character, sometimes as a “joke” but other times played dead serious at the hands of his mother, child death- specifically suicide, a successful one as well as 3 assassination attempts that doubled as suicide attempts by the main 3 characters (weird parallel they all got there huh)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Honestly this is a series that is good to go in blind for if you need to tws, it’s a deconstruction of the magical girl genre, but if you don’t want to know more than that you can stop reading here. If you want to know more, it’s a series that starts off very light-hearted and in tune with typical magical girl conventions at first, however by episode 3 it’s made painfully clear that these girls are being led to sign up into something they shouldn’t. It’s heavy, though not incredibly so, but it’s also a lot to explain in a summary. Madoka magica is… It’s Faust with magical girls.

I’ll explain as much as I can without giving too much away. The story begins when Madoka Kaname and her friend Sayaka Miki encounter a creature who calls itself Kyubey, who says it can grant a wish of theirs and in exchange they have to become magical girls and fight witches. Both the girls are hesitant, but Sayaka wants to wish for her childhood friend’s injuries to be cured so he can play violin again, while Madoka is content as she is and can’t think of a wish. Luckily they have a mentor, a magical girl named Mami Tomoe who helps introduce them to everything. However something is stopping Madoka from becoming a magical girl, a mysterious new student who is also one herself, Homura Akemi, is resolute on keeping Madoka from becoming a magical girl by all means possible, for reasons Madoka doesn’t understand. Things get even more complicated when a rival magical girl shows up, Kyoko Sakura, who becomes Sayaka’s new rival. As things get more heated between those two they discover a terrible secret about the nature of magical girls, and what they truly signed up for.

Spoilers ahead but trigger warning for: Child death, parental death (backstory only), decapitation (off-screen), needles, incredibly surreal imagery inside the witch’s labyrinths that may feel unreal, mind control, suicide, depression and despair expressed by young characters. Also don't bother with Magia Record

The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K.

Alright something lighthearted now, there are a lot of comedy anime I enjoy, a lot of series that have made me laugh, but none has made me bust a gut like this series has, it’s absolutely hilarious. It follows the life of a boy named Saiki Kusuo who has psychic powers. His powers are incredibly overpowered, and he absolutely hates them, in his eyes they cause him nothing but trouble. There’s not much in the way of a plot to describe, because there isn’t any, the series is comprised of 5 minute segments surrounding Saiki and an incredibly vast and colorful cast of characters that are just all completely insane, many serve as parodies as types of anime tropes because the series as a whole is very self aware and doesn’t shy from breaking the fourth wall a lot, but the characters surrounding Saiki are what make his life… Disastrous.

Like I said there’s not really a plot to describe but like FMA people may get confused with this one, there are 3 seasons but one of them is titled “The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K: Reawakened” as is a continuation of the first two with just 6 episodes in it. Also for some reason only the second season isn’t dubbed so if you’re planning on watching it that way you’d have to either stop or switch to subs for season 2

The only major tw I can give here is an ongoing joke about a character being into his sister, he’s treated as disgusting for it of course because he’s a parody of that trope but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable, luckily he doesn’t show up much.

Little Witch Academia

Little Witch Academia is a series I personally just adore, it takes place in a world where witches are common and well-known among the people, but the era of witches is over and magic is dying out. However that doesn’t mean passion of magic doesn’t exist, the protagonist is a young girl named Atsuko Kagari, or Akko for short. She’s resolute on being just like her icon, a witch known as Shiny Chariot, as she attends the same magic school: Luna Nova! Unfortunately Akko isn’t exactly a magical prodigy, in fact she can’t even fly a broom, but that’s not gonna stop her, nothing will. Just like Chariot said, believing in yourself is your magic.

Once at school Akko gets into all types of crazy shenanigans with her with her two roommates, Lotte Yanson and Sucy Manbavaran, and occasionally her rival, Diana Cavendish. Akko still struggles a lot in school, in fact her inability with magic is pretty explicitly handled as a metaphor for a learning disability, and though this makes it harder for her she’s still resolute. Though the series is generally episodic, a concrete plot starts to form by the second core. Along with the help of her guidance counselor, Professor Ursula, Akko learns that she needs to unlock 7 “words” to bring magic back to the world, each time she learns a new one it comes with an important lesson to her and ultimately relates back to each of the core themes of the series

The series is pretty lighthearted so the biggest trigger warning I can give is one for bullying, two characters in particular tend to target Akko for not being a good witch and it can really sting to watch. Other than that none come to mind

#if you want stuff out of a more specific genre i can give a list of those too but this is like. general

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Note

Dick and Jason are Robins at the same time

(titans ‘verse. au after 1.06)

(tagging @superohclair and @cautiousamber!)

dick has to admit that it’s not the worst arrangement: jason continues to be robin in gotham, and dick travels across the country with his little family while running from a homicidal cult, wearing the costume every now and then when he has no choice but to fight. this way batman is covered, dick still has access to some advanced gear and weaponry now that he needs it, and internet sleuths are kept on their toes when robin shows up in different ends of the country on the same day.

so what if reading news coverage of batman and robin in gotham feels like being punched in the chest, or hearing jason’s stories about learning new things from bruce everyday makes dick want to scream into a pillow? he is fine with this.

he. is. fine--

(kory knows he’s fraying at the edges. she watches, and she says nothing.)

the fight to help rachel and defeat trigon is long and hard, and involves painstakingly unravelling kory’s memories. they manage to find her spaceship, and it becomes their base for a good long while. they stay there long enough that dick loses some of the tension that’s had him on edge for... well. the better part of the last five years, to be honest.

dick begins training rachel and gar in earnest. kory is able to coax some memories of tamaranean cuisine and culture out, and dick is reminded more and more of the team that he lost everyday. despite his best efforts he’s invested now. he cooks and dances with kory (good thing he’s so flexible because the tamaranean version of a waltz is like a particularly sadistic game of twister), teaches rachel algebra and does yoga with gar. he even manages to forget about bruce for a bit.

jason shows up quite often when he figures out where they’re based, and after some initial tension, he becomes an unofficial member of their team (though at this stage dick is still reluctant to use that word). dick and jason patrol in the nearby city some nights, then go for ice cream later. dick’s even starting to see the strategic (and frankly comedic) potential of two robins on the same patrol.

time and familiarity softens how dick perceives jason: less reckless asshole and more bright young kid full of curiosity and a need to prove himself. he continues to tend towards gratuitous violence, but dick learns his triggers and helps jason recognise them as well. he soaks up the info on alien cultures and battles on kory’s ship faster than dick himself could hope to, and there is a terrible sort of tenderness to how he talks to the people he saves while on patrol. terrible, dick thinks, because he doesn’t know if he comes across like that now at all: soft and empathetic instead of aloof and shaking, too caught up in his own neuroses.

here’s the thing, the crux of it, the faultline that’s always threatening to break dick apart: he’s so afraid that he’s taken robin, his legacy, the ideals and persona that he modelled as a tribute to his parents, and made it into something so dark and broken that only batman could pass it on. jason showing up as his replacement one day only seemed to affirm that fear. but now, swinging through the skies with this kid who’s taken robin as an opportunity to learn and grow and be better, dick’s reminded of the best of his early days in the costume.

for the first time in what feels like forever, dick feels good about putting on the robin costume again.

(are you asking if dick tried to call home? of course he did. he chickens out and cuts the call to bruce after only a few rings, and feels a sad sort of vindication in noticing how bruce never attempts to call him back.

alfred picks up his call on the second ring, and dick feels like the smallest person in the world when he hears the genuine warmth, joy and relief in alfred’s voice as he greets him. there’s no excuse for dick refusing to talk to the man that practically raised him after his parents died and he knows it.

they talk for an hours while skirting around anything to do with bruce, which is an impressive feat all in itself. they finally talk about jason, and there’s a wistful sort of fondness in alfred’s voice as he says, “you’ve been a good influence on master jason.”

dick laughs. “he’s been a good influence on me.” it’s the first time he’s said it loud, but it feels true.

“you mustn’t underestimate the ways in which you change people, master dick,” alfred says. “you have been a light in our lives for so long.”

dick’s jaw clenches. all his memories of batman smudge together in never-ending shadow; when he thinks of bruce, he can only remember that remote expression on his face, that expression dick can project all his disgust and loathing and disappointment onto. maybe people should start considering how they influence me, dick wants to say. sometimes i can’t recognise who i’m seeing in the mirror every day and other times i hate him so much i want to--

“i miss you, alf,” he says instead, softly.

“my dear boy,” alfred starts, but he sounds choked. it’s ok. dick understands.)

things get worse, quickly. their enemies find and destroy their spaceship base, and they’re not nearly ready to take on trigon yet. they’re on the run again, alternating between motel rooms and empty warehouses.

the cult finally catches up to them; they are kidnapped and tortured for days in an abandoned asylum. they eventually escape, the building and the organisation in flames behind them, but the scars from the experience are deep: rachel is anxious and tearful almost all the time, gar’s usual cheer is replaced by a quiet, simmering self-loathing, kory refuses to talk about her experience but flinches at every touch, and dick... he feels like he’s been flayed, his mind and body laid raw and bleeding until nothing recognisable, nothing human is left. he can’t think, he can barely feel. half the time it feels like he’s observing what’s happening to him like it’s happening to somebody else entirely.

they’re a mess. he can’t do this, not when he feels like--like this. he resists calling anybody for help, but one night he breaks down and calls donna. he doesn’t remember what he says on the call, but wakes up the next morning, eyes raw, tear tracks on his face, and a text from donna that says: i’ll be there in a day. stay put, bw,

“wow you’re a mess,” jason says from a corner of the room. any other time, dick would be on his feet, demanding to know how jason found them. now though, he’s feeling out of his body again, and so he says, “i kind of am, aren’t i?” and watches the words float, parting the air above him.

jason sighs.

being with donna helps get his head on straight, even though at first her appearance threatened to bring back even more traumatic memories. she’s a soothing, sobering presence not just for him, but for the others as well. they continue to motel-hop as they prepare for their big final battle against trigon.

jason continues to find them, somehow. (dick wouldn’t put installing a tracker on one of them beyond him, but he’s much too tired to feel angry about that.) he chats with dick and sometimes they bond by watching a movie together or swinging from buildings in the chill, crisp night air, jason’s cackling laugh echoing in dick’s ears.

jason always leaves as quickly as he appears, but dick is grateful for his presence.

they defeat trigon, and there’s a party. even hank and dawn show up. jason is conspicuous in his absence.

after several unanswered texts and calls, dick bites the bullet and calls alfred. “hey alf,” he says when the man picks up, “is jason there?”

there’s a long pause at the other end of the line. then: “did master bruce not tell you?” his voice sounds uncharacteristically hoarse.

dick’s stomach starts to sink. he steps away from the others and into a quiet room. “tell me what?”

“master jason...” alfred sighs. “he--he was killed by the joker two months ago. the funeral was last week.”

dick stumbles back to sit on the bed. the phone threatens to fall from his numb fingers even while his heart thunders against his ribs. “that’s impossible,” he manages. “i saw him five days ago. we saw--” there’s a hysterical laugh building in his chest, howling like a thunderstorm, “fuck we saw moulin rogue together. he told me how much he fucking loves musicals, i--”

alfred’s voice is suddenly distant and tinny. dick looks down to see his phone on the floor. he’s suddenly very, very aware of the dryness of his palms, the hot flush at the tips of his ears, the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks, the way his lungs are burning with shock and grief and rage--

“hey, dickie,” jason says, smiling at him. “glad you finally caught up.”

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#this got completely out of control #yikes #titans #my fic #dick grayson #jason todd #a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #cw mental illness #ptsd #please let me know if i should tag/warn for anything #sillierthanasillylaugh

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hoodwinkd1 · 3 years

Text

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 15

Ch 14 here.

Chapter 15: light hearted jokes

A pillow smacked his face, shocking Eris out of what had been an extremely pleasant dream. He almost snarled at the attack, turning onto his side, before remembering that the object of said dream was lying beside him.

“Sorry,” Rhia whispered, her eyes wide. “Did I wake you up?”

Her fingers played with the edge of the pillow still sitting between them. To Eris’ delight, she appeared to be in the process of removing the barrier, explaining the early morning attack.

“Not many people are brave enough to assault the High Lord first thing in the morning.” Testing the waters, he placed his hand next to hers, palm splayed open. The tumultuous ocean between them turned into a gentle stream as she took it.

Rhia let out a soft sigh. “Go on then, if you must. Lock me in the dungeons, imprison me for life.”

Was it his imagination, or had she shifted closer? Either way, Rhia looked entirely too tempting in the mornings. Her hair had fallen out of its updo and into complete disarray, but framed her face in a way that reminded him of cozy sweaters and falling leaves, of the brief moments he had ever truly relaxed in his life, of safety and of comfort.

He twisted their joined hands so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. “You shouldn’t dangle an idea like that in front of me. I may just keep you here forever, though certainly not in the dungeons.”

She hummed in response, releasing his hand to run hers through his hair. Her fingers continued to explore, drawing the most delicious shapes over his cheekbones, his nose, his jaw, and his neck. Eris would have traded all his fire power in exchange for the fiery lines her touch brought forth.

He also would have traded his powers in an instant for nothing at all. The unpleasant memory of the night before shadowed his thoughts, reviving the roaring self-hatred and guilt at causing her pain.

“Is this why you wanted to remove the pillows? I hadn’t guessed you’d be so affectionate this early.” Eris kept his tone light. She could take his question at face value or use it as an opening to talk about what had transpired.

Rhia grimaced. “Am I that easy to read?” She pushed his shoulder lightly, and he let himself fall onto his back. Eris almost lit the curtains on fire when she moved forward so they were chest to chest, one arm slipping on the other side of his waist. He curled his hand, the arm pinned underneath her, around her back, reveling in the simple touches. “The pillows were in my way.”

“We can’t have that,” Eris concurred. He grabbed the remaining pillow, resting against both of their knees and threw it over the side of the bed. He might have aimed too low and brushed her cheek. All’s fair in love and pillow fights, of course.

“Asshole!” Rhia launched herself on him in earnest this time, straddling his waist with her insanely gorgeous legs. She let a wisp of magic loose, pulling the pillow from the floor to her hands. Eris sat up, hands flailing to grab her wrists, but she got a good smack in before he could. He caught one of her hands and--

“This is too cute!”

Eris let out a snarl that could have woken half the palace at the intruder's voice.

---

Rhia desperately needed to catch up on inter-Court politics. She was relatively confident that foreign diplomatic officials weren’t allowed to show up in High Lord’s bed chambers without invitation or announcement. And yet, Carina Archeron leaned against the door frame.

“Take your time! Just letting you know I’m waiting in the sitting room when you’re ready for a chat.” The dark-haired female sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Eris dropped her hand and pinched his forehead in frustration. “I would say she’s not usually like this, except...she is.”

Rhia sighed and removed herself from his body. She had hoped that in the morning light, maybe some activities would be marginally easier than the night before. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“I have some very choice words for her,” Eris grumbled. “No more showing up wherever, whenever like she owns the building.”

“Oh? Does she show up in your bedroom often?” Rhia raised an eyebrow.

Eris’ reaction was better than she’d hoped. The High Lord, halfway through putting on a new shirt, whipped his head around, almost ripping the fabric apart. “We haven’t, she’s not, I can promise you that there’s nothing to worry about--”

“I’m teasing, love.” She reached up and helped navigate the sleeves down his arms. “Do you have a spare dressing robe? And not one that was meant for your previous consorts?”

He bit the tip of her ear as he moved past her towards the massive closet. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Carina perked up when they finally joined her in the main room. “That was much quicker than I expected. Look, I even put up a sound barrier.”

Rhia could feel the magic buzzing, right as Carina popped it. At least she had more faith in their sex life than Rhia did.

“I’ll be brief.” She sat back on one of the golden chairs, watching as the couple settled themselves on the couch. “I am sorry for interrupting; I forgot you would stay the night. Anyway, long story short, my parents have invited Eris to come stay the week before the Winter Solstice.”

“How wonderful,” he replied drily. “My ideal vacation.”

“They’ve also extended the invitation to you.” Carina winked at Rhia. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them about your hero worship tendencies.”

She glanced over at Eris, who’d gone surprisingly stiff at the statement. “Isn’t that normal? Letting a fellow High Lord bring guests?”

“Of course it is,” Carina continued. She shifted in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Half of Prythian has heard the news of your mating.”

Eris let out a low growl. “I’m sure Rhysand has the purest of motives here.”

“Ignore him. Rhia, they stressed that you’re invited to come, even if you must come alone.”

Eris growled louder this time. “Not a fucking chance.”

Rhia whipped her head to face him, mouth gaping at the blatant demand in his tone. He never, not once, had said anything territorial or commanded her in anyway. “And who are you to stop me?”

“I would never stop you.” Eris clenched his jaw. “I just want you to see this charade for what it is.”

“Is it? A charade?” She directed the question at the Heir of the Night Court, who looked increasingly uncomfortable with every tense remark.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought it was anything less than genuine,” she insisted. “Eris, you know I’ve never taken their grudge seriously.”

He leaned forward in his chair. Rhia tracked the movement of his arms as they slid down his thigh, hands joining together and elbows resting on his knees. “Tell me, then, with complete certainty, that the Inner Circle has no plans to investigate our relationship. That they have no desire to inspect my mate for themselves. That they have no beliefs that she might be in any danger.”

“What?” Rhia almost choked on nothing. “They can’t think — they have no reason to believe that you would harm me.”

Eris looked down into his palms, searching for something in the creases that brought her so much comfort. “You know our history. Of course they have reason to believe I would treat you maliciously.”

Carina glanced between the two of them. “Yeah, so third wheeling a fight isn’t really my idea of a grand time. I might just go—“

Eris cut her off. “Answer my question or return home with our most insincere apologies.”

“I don’t know! I didn’t ask and I honestly didn’t consider it.” Carina uncrossed her legs and stared him down, intensifying her gaze. “I swear on all the stars in the sky, I only came here with good intentions.” Her eyes jumped to Rhia and her smile turned apologetic. “And if they did pry, it’s only because they happen to be the nosiest assholes in this world.”

Rhia wanted to sweep this entire conversation under the rug and never address it again. She knew that Eris, like he would with any topic, would let her do exactly that if she asked him to.

But something in her heated. Some fire in her core, some deep-seated instinct urged her to defend, to protect, to snarl at any threat with every drop of her power.

“That isn’t fair. They have no right to judge what’s ours, without proof or complaint.” Her words were quiet, but the look from Eris screamed so loudly that she blushed. “If they have any sort of motive, then I have to decline.”

Carina dipped her head. “I can send that message to my parents. If you did say yes, I would set down clear and strict boundaries for your comfort.”

“Thank you. It’s not a yes or a no at this moment.” Eris’ response was much calmer than before, drawing a soft sigh of relief from her lungs.

Rhia offered a weak smile to the other female. She genuinely wanted to bond with Carina, sought friendship with one of the few Fae Eris trusted, and this conversation had deterred her from that goal. One last question lingered, though.

“I know the history between our Courts is tense, and rightfully so,” she began. “But truly, what purpose does it serve to antagonize Eris like this? After successfully allying with him for so long?”

Carina shrugged. “They always have to be the hero. My parents and family have centered themselves in one narrative for too long, unable to really break the molds they were forced into.”

“My father grew more powerful than anyone expected, than anyone knew how to handle, all while facing scorn from both halves of his bloodline. He had to comprise his own beliefs when dealing with the Illyrians and the Hewn City, yet never could find a way to actually fix the problems. My mother was thrust into almost unlimited power and given a hyper-dedicated soulmate at 19 years old, with no worldly perspective or aged experience.” Carina bit her lip, as if holding back a grin before adding: “oh, and of course they both died for Prythian, so that really set the entitlement in.”

She waved a hand casually, wiping away the fact that she had just analyzed the two most magical beings in this world with utter candor. “Whatever, enough about them. Think on it, and send me a note when you decide. Either way, I’ll still visit and demand the latest Autumn gossip.”

She winnowed before Eris or Rhia could move, a person much too used to always getting the last word.

“How are you feeling?” Rhia leaned back into the couch cushions and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Eris draped his hand over hers and squeezed. “I don’t think I ever feel normal after conversing with Carina,” he admitted. “But I’m no longer angry. I apologize that you had to see that.”

Rhia snorted. “You’re much too calm normally. I can appreciate some rage now and again.”

“Never at you.” He leaned over to kiss her knuckles. “Not ever at you. If you’d like me to rage at someone on your behalf, however, that’s completely acceptable.”

“A wonderful sentiment.” The hand on his shoulder slid behind his neck, while its twin danced across his abdomen. “I would like to see the Night Court someday.”

Eris hummed. “I’ll make sure you see all the Courts and the continents beyond, if you wish.”

“Even Illyria?” she teased.

“Nope.”

“Why the hell not?” Rhia pouted. Rhia hadn’t felt any actual desire to go to the bitterly cold mountains, but his denial struck her as a bit odd.

Eris glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now I simply must know,” Rhia giggled. “Or I’ll assume something much worse than what it is.”

She watched him scrunch up his nose in the most adorably frustrated way. “The General and I....we don’t mix.”

“Eris,” she sighed. “You can’t let this grudge eat away at you like—“

“It’s not the grudge.” A blush crept up his neck. “It’s not me that, well, I don’t want you meeting Cassian.”

Rhia swatted him. “Is he so horrible? Or are you worried I’ll take one look at his hulking body and fall madly in love?”

A beat of silence. Another. Too much time passed, and Eris still didn’t respond to her taunt.

“No.”

He groaned and pulled her closer to him, hiding his face in her curls. “It’s not what you’re thinking! It’s beyond silly, I know, but he did manage to take not one, but two betrothals from me.” His voice went soft. “It’s silly to even think this.”

Rhia bit her tongue, trying to think of anything comforting or sweet to say. She couldn’t do it. A giggle slipped out, and Eris shot his head up.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me.” His eyes flashed in warning, pushing her over the edge.

Rhia gasped for air as the laughter fully overtook her. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to be serious but...” Another laugh interrupted her sentence. “That is so incredibly ridiculous and superstitious!”

Eris glared at her. “My ego is utterly shredded right now, thank you very much.”

“I love you.” She finally calmed down enough to press a light kiss to the edge of his mouth. “I love you and we’re mates and I promise I won’t leave you for the General of the Night Court.” She kissed the other side of his mouth, punctuating her words.

He wouldn’t risk her pulling away, gripping her waist to keep her against him. She teased him with a few more pecks, adjusting her position to hover directly on his lap.

“Kiss me, you cruel, despicable creature.” His breath fanned her neck and she smiled against his forehead.

A heartbeat later and they were tangled up in each other, lips and tongues and limbs coming together as one. Rhia gasped when he bit her bottom lip and Eris purred when her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Promise me we won't be interrupted this time," she breathed, as he moved down her jaw and back to that one spot on her neck.

Eris smiled against her skin. "I've tripled the wards."

She licked her lips, drawing his attention back up to her face. Slowly, torturing them both, her fingers grazed the neckline of the dressing robe, gliding it down her shoulders, letting it fall off her arms. He looked at her with all the intensity and desperation of a drunkard on his last bottle of wine.

She leaned forward, kissing her way from his chin to his ear. "Should we try again?"

-----

thank you for reading!

tag list: @moonbeamfenrys @qamariana

#eris #eris vanserra #acotar #acosf #sjm #sarahjmaas #autumn court #you are in love

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