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aeoki · 1 year

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Grand Slam - Prologue

Location: Yumenosaki Grounds Characters: Tomoya, Eichi & Wataru Season: Summer Writer: Akira

TL Note:

This is a Japanese proverb for putting one’s own children through severe hardships in order to test their spirit and raise them to be respectable human beings.

< The latter half of September, the first year ES was established. At the Yumenosaki grounds (the “Old–Fashioned Sports Festival venue) up in the sky. >

Tomoya: GYAAAAAAAAAAAAH!?

Eichi: “Now, it has finally begun! The first category of the traditional event “The Old-Fashion Sports Festival” at Yumenosaki Academy: Sky Blue…☆”

Tomoya: I’ve never heard of this ridiculous event before! This is completely different from the sports festivals I’ve been in!

Eichi: “It seems one of the players is saying something, but we’re too far away to hear. Let’s not mind him and continue with the live broadcast.”

Tomoya: That’s so meaaaaan!

Eichi: “Also, your MCs for the event are fellow alumni of Yumenosaki, Eichi Tenshouin from “fine” and…♪”

Wataru: “Your very own Wataru Hibiki…!”

Eichi: “Fufu. Both of us have already graduated from Yumenosaki but for ES, the four great agencies can be rather competitive when it comes to the ‘Old-Fashioned Sports Festival’, after all.”

“We are graduated students so we don’t have the right to take part, but we’ll be cheering and supporting the current students as part of the staff.”

Wataru: “Amazing! I hope you’ll have a wonderful time watching the lovely tragicomedy that is the high schoolers living out their youthful days…! ☆”

Eichi: “But the sports festival is indeed nostalgic. It’s truly hard to believe only a year has passed.”

“A lot of things happened, such as our graduation and the establishment of ES; it’s been a very jam-packed time.”

“My recollection is already fading in the distance.”

“However, the fun memories of my youth will always remain.”

Wataru: “I had thought you would have nothing but terrible memories of the sports festival, where muscles and stamina are everything, as you were born with a frail body.”

Eichi: “That’s not true. Those who are weak have their own means of enjoying things. In actuality, one cannot participate in all the events by themselves.”

“Just because you are a ‘weak character’ with no stamina whatsoever doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the sports festival at all.”

“Last year, I enjoyed tactically guiding and moving those around me. It felt as though I was playing a game of chess, it was rather delightful.”

Wataru: “Ohh, that’s a very Eichi-like thing to say! It appears the ‘Emperor’ of Yumenosaki is still alive and well!”

Eichi: “That is simply my nickname. I’m not that sort of arrogant figure at all. Fufu.”

Wataru: *Whispers* Oh? I touched upon a risky topic but you dodged it quite gracefully. As expected of you, Eichi ♪

Eichi: *Whispers* Fufu. I’m probably a “compassionate and lofty idol” in the eyes of the world, though.

*Whispers* It’s not interesting if you’re a straight-laced person, so I need to sprinkle a few jokes here and there.

*Whispers* Besides, ever since “Crazy:B” appeared, they spread and exposed everyone’s weaknesses, so I may not be able to maintain my clean image forever.

*Whispers* That’s why I’ll let a few “maybe-I’m-actually-a-little-bit-black-hearted” phrases slip and make the fans' perception of me grow closer to my actual image – until it has thoroughly blended together.

Wataru: *Whispers* Right. It’s because of such tactics that I commented and said the “Emperor” is still going strong ♪

Eichi: *Whispers* Fufu. I’m no match for you, Wataru ♪

Tomoya: You murdereeeeeeers!

Stop chit-chatting and explain what’s going on! I’ve got no clue~!

Why did I get taken up to the sky in a helicopter, was told no ifs or buts and then thrown off!? Just what did I do to deserve this~!?

Wataru: “...Oh, we must direct our attention to Tomoya-kun soon.”

Eichi: “You’re been working very hard, Wataru.”

Wataru: “Tomoya-kuuun! My Tomoya-kun! Can you hear me?”

Tomoya: I don’t ever remember becoming yours but, yeah, I can hear you, dammit!

Wataru: “Then, please listen carefully! The first category of the “Old-Fashion Sports Festival” is called ‘Sky Blue’ and, just like the name suggests, it will be held in the sky!”

Tomoya: What do you mean by that!? Humans can’t fly, you know? The only movement we can do in the sky is “falling”!

Wataru: “Rest assured! By introducing a variety of new equipment, it is now possible to hold a new ‘Sports Festival in the Sky’!”

Eichi: “We can fly through the air using the wings of an aircraft, after all. While we’re on that subject, the Tenshouin Zaibatsu are the ones responsible for supplying that new equipment.”

“It’s technology that can only be used for children to play with or in war, but I’m deeply moved to have the opportunity to showcase it this time.”

Tomoya: You guys can actually hear me, right? Then, why did you ignore me earlier and just start talking between yourselves? Are you guys heartless or something~!?

Wataru: “Tomoya-kun, Tomoya-kun! Can you see four different coloured mats on the ground? Currently, you have been tossed out into the open air but…”

“Find the colour of your agency – you’re in RhyLin, so that’ll be pink! Please land on the pink mat skilfully!”

“Once you do, that’ll count as a huge success and RhyLink will gain one point! That’s what this event is all about!”

“It’s the first event in ‘Sky Blue’ – Meteor Impact ♪”

Tomoya: Okay, okay! So I’m a meteor! I just have to let gravity do its thing and fall, right?

I’m most definitely going to turn into minced meat but is that fine!? This year’s sports festival is being broadcast on TV and the internet, right!?

Ahh~ I’m doomed! ES and Yumenosaki are doomed too! It’s going to be a huge incident that’ll go up in flames online and everything’s going to be done for! It’s game over!

Wataru: “Don’t despair, Tomoya-kun! Remember the days of our training!”

“If you remember your experience and handle it calmly, you will – for sure – succeed in this event!”

Tomoya: Yeah! Unfortunately, I do remember you tossing me out into the sky numerous times!

From the number of hot-air balloons that you’ve got! You said it was all for me to “build courage”...!

Wataru: “Fufufu, lions will toss their precious children into a steep valley[*], after all ♪”

Eichi: “If you were to think about it normally, no matter how strong their bodies are, anyone would die after falling from such a high place, though ♪”

Tomoya: Daaaammit! I’ll never forgive you for this!

If I die and get reincarnated, I’m coming straight for you two for revenge!

Wataru: “Amazing! I’ll be looking forward to it, Tomoya-kun ♪”

Eichi: “Fufu. I’m curious to see how the event will turn out, but we’re just in time for a commercial break ♪”

Tomoya: You monsterssssss!

(Oh, jeez! Why is this happening!? Wasn’t the Sports Festival a peaceful event for Yumenosaki~!?)

Next Chapter →

#enstars translation #grand slam

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whosyourcreepyunclenow · 10 months

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alright, for some reason this exists. not quite aware about your boundaries, so I'm obligated to warn: this content may not be suitable for some readers

warnings: smut, ust, non-conish dub-con(?), toxic crap, sad silly nonsense, probably weird english

was written to a nice song though

(it's pov Michael but I can only write in second person, so imagine yourself a depressed middle-aged man and go ahead)

It’s supposed to be a fucking jinx, doesn’t it? Just how you missed the old times few crazy weeks ago, so much you hate ‘em now. And of course, hate yourself for missing ‘em, like it somehow brought back that wild crap right into your present day. What a joke.

Memories should remain memories. To indulge yourself in a good old shitty nostalgia, to dive headlong into that abyss again and get off scot-free. Your personal paradise of fun where the heart trembles, the night's still young, and the bullet in your shoulder doesn’t bother like a real one. No bruises from recoil, no shortness of breath. You’re the sharpest shooter, Mikey, the clearest mind, you always make the right decisions.

Such a calming little lie to fool yourself you could be better than this. Not just a drunk old loser, feeling sorry for himself, but a drunk old loser with history, which you wisely choose to left behind and move forward. You were a terrible person, you still are. However even a terrible person needs something to be proud of.

And there must be no way for that special something to become more than just a back door to escape reality. No fucking way.

The old days taste like nauseating warm beer and smell like piss. Stained with blood, sweat and cum, sound like annoyingly loud swearing and crunch of broken glass. It was a lot easier to forget their true colors, so you gladly forgot, leaving the only ones suitable for a proper melancholic reminiscence. You know, ain’t nothing wrong with romanticizing the past. The trouble begins when you're starting regret things. Oh man, you should never trust your memories, they’re such fabulists…

Another bottle became a pile of trash for Patricia to clean up. Not sure how obvious but you kinda hate her for no reason, just along for the ride. She could tidy up this rubbish dump for days, it’ll never get clean. She could call him good, kind, mature or whatever, he’ll never stop being himself. And neither will you.

Trying to steady the swaying room, you stabilize its dirty walls with your hands, occasionally grabbing a poster girl’s ass, she doesn’t get offended. The next one even deserved a slight slap, as if you weren’t already horny enough – to even feel the seductive warmth of skin through the faded paper and sincerely enjoy that little illusion of touch. Same 'bout an illusion of privacy behind the flimsy folding door you keep closed anyway.

At least he doesn’t mind. Being asleep and completely wasted, the only thing his doped body’s still capable of is snoring. Lying on his back, with his arms and legs spread out, in that smelly stretched briefs, he’s utterly disgusting and sexy at the same time.

Well, in the old days you wouldn’t think twice. But it ain’t the old days.

So you just carelessly shoved him aside and fell down with your face in the pillow, warm and wet from his oily hair. Took a deep breath. Fucking awful as always. He murmured something unintelligible, then turned on his stomach too, but faced to the other side. You don’t look at him either.

“Forget any idea ‘bout molesting me, pork chop. Or I’ll get sober and shove a grenade into your butt, you hear me?”

Feels like you’d blow up his butt right now, without any other tools except your own. Why the hell.

“You really flatter yourself, T. Like… greatly.”

Still somehow managed to keep your voice smooth, though the stupid nervous smirk makes it a bit softer. You swallowed hard, throwing the fuck out of your mind that nostalgic bullshit ‘bout using your saliva in a more efficient way. There was times when your fingers woulda been doing their job already, now they simply clenched into a fist, crumpling a checkered blanket. Those times have passed long ago.

“We both know you ain’t too picky.”

Is he taunting or just mocking you? Any mistake could be unreasonably costly in a lot of senses.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The catch is you ain’t even confident about yourself anymore, face it. Desire is enormous, the foretaste drives you crazy – hey, when was the last time you felt so aroused by someone? Or just aroused without any fucking reason, like in your twenties, but still aroused as fuck? Though it doesn’t mean that need can be satisfied, since any little bullshit’s enough to ruin the feeling and turn you off like a broken switch. So you hate yourself again and hate your body, hate your deceptive mind, hate your everything.

Guess getting old is a great excuse for losing interest, yeah? At least it works for Amanda and your other whores who demand from you much more than you're capable of. But the truth is you haven’t ever lost interest, you’ve just become more… picky? Or egoistic. Or less randomly horny for pretty things or simply tired from imitating it – that’s what they usually call sexual problems.

Resumed snoring let you know that T’s asleep again. So alright, you can continue feeling pity for yourself until the morning. The only thing you can do as long as you want.

Or there’s another option. Weirdly compromise, still crazy. Hence exciting.

You cautiously turned on your back and glanced at him to check, as if the obvious sound was not enough. Part of you treacherously want him to wake up at the worst moment possible, but clearly not yet. Man, what the fuck are you doing…

Quietly unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants, suddenly worrying. Years ago it was his thing to masturbate on you sleeping, what always felt confusing when you caught him doing that. As if you were jealous of him to himself and somehow got offended, what a dumbass. Didn’t realize that every opportunity to touch someone you wanna touch is a treasure.

And now you’re casually squeezing your cock, remembering his. You jerked him half-ass mechanically, roughly, without giving a single fuck about his pleasure, the only one that really mattered was your own. Of course you tried to make it less obvious, but it was obvious – you were awful. And he loved you awful. More than anyone.

“Fuck, Trevor…”

Can’t help but whispering, not expecting to be heard. Your handjob is a lot better when you’re staring at his sweaty back, fighting the urge to remove these shitty briefs. Ain’t no even need to screw, you may climax just from looking at his naked ass.

It's almost perfect time for him to wake up and punch you. Almost.

Luckily, he doesn’t. Even when you’ve finally lost your damn mind and pull off his underwear, then predicably realized you need more than looking. And holy fuck… this was your last meaningful conclusion.

Quite unable to mess around, you got to the point, eagerly lubing up your cock with saliva and pushing apart his buttocks, barely maintaining a sense of reality… With all these toys he regularly shoves in himself, you thought it would be easier, but his hole just doesn’t let you in. So you spat on your fingers once more and smeared on his tight entrance, then tried again. He’s already disturbed enough to start moaning and lazily fidget, but not fully awake yet.

“Hey, T… You wanted the old me? You’ll get him.”

Finally, he howled when you pushed yourself inside, probably too fast. Ain’t exactly how things should be done, you was merely trying to avoid that awkward pause between “I wanna fuck you” and “I’m actually fucking you” stages. Just can’t deal with that clarifying relationships shit, not fucking now…

“FUCK!”

Alright, he woke up. And he’s trying to shove you out, if only you hadn’t held his bottom like a fucking lifeline.

“Am I shitting? Feels like a big turd’s stuck in my butt… Not so big, actually.”

“Hi to you too, Trevor.”

It’s so tense here like he’s trying to bit off your manhood with his anus and chew it. And maybe a little dry, yet not enough for him to lament.

“Remember what I said ‘bout molesting me, sugar?”

You spread out his cheeks slightly, conciliatory massaging them to appease, but he keeps struggling. It’s easier to lay down and put your weight upon him, bury yourself even deeper, softly mutter into his neck.

“C'mon, T, let me love you…”

He smells attractively horrible, alluring your lips to fondle his skin with short kisses. He tastes salty.

“It’s not fucking LOVE, you dick! It’s taking advantage!”

“Call it whatever you like.”

You thrust in him slowly, knead his hips with all tender affection you can muster, what the fuck else does he want? Alright, it ain’t really convenient now but lift him a bit to play with his boy too, and this time do it right… Oh please, just make sure to do it right.

God, he’s hard. He’s hard and hot like hell, goddammit…

“No! Just, NO I said! And pull your junk outta me!”

So this moron just slapped your hand, shoved it away and wriggled out from under your body, making you both highly unpleasant. Fucking great!

He got up, swaying and shaking, put up his briefs back on and somehow fixed his boner. Still doesn’t look at your face, though he’s not the only who hesitates. After all, you have no damn idea what went wrong or what he wanted you to do. From your perspective it felt as good as it could be, unspeakably good.

“Oh seriously, what’s the problem?”

Crap, he clearly didn’t like the question.

“What’s the problem?! WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM you asking?!”

“Yes, what’s the fucking problem!”

Fuck it. He finally turned and faced you, with so much desperate hate in his eyes that you went numb. Like everything what happened was so terribly wrong he could never forgive. Like you hurt him in ways you can’t even imagine.

“Listen… Right now, I’m making incredible efforts to not kill you, Michael,” his voice got menacingly quiet, yet notes of deeply rising anger strive to break through. “If that ain’t A PROBLEM to you, guess what I’d be doing with your corpse!”

Shit, he’s so fucking fine when he’s mad. Scary to realize, you’d probably rape him, if only he wasn’t a lot stronger, even with a such hangover. Or perhaps what you’ve already done can be as well considered as a sexual violence – of course, how else. So you’re a rapist now. Congratulations, pal.

“A-right, I got it,” but you’re still a human, who has his goddamn feelings too. “Go fuck yourself then.”

That treacherous, suicidal part of you expected him to react – in any way. He could punch you, slam you against the wall, chock you, shove a fucking grenade into your ass, rape you in revenge. You want him to do fucking anything, you just want him. Desperately.

Hastily zipping up your pants, slide open the door and leave. Patricia’s asleep on the coach or pretending being asleep. Who cares.

When harrowing horniness finally let you go, thirst hit. So bad you’d dry up the Alamo Sea despite its saltiness and ask for more. You bursted into a bathroom, opened the tap at full and drunk greedily from your palms until you felt sick, but couldn’t bring yourself to vomit. The water was muddy, rusty and smelled like sewer, lovely taste of a childhood. Lastly, you washed your face and turned to the broken mirror.

Of course, you’re miserable. Fat old fool with shadows under his eyes, saggy skin and smoky teeth. So what goddamn hopes you had for yourself? He might like that perfect old you, young and handsome, everyone’s blue-eyed boy. Oh, you were hot back in the day, admit it.

You were something to jerk on. Now you ain’t even someone to drunkenly fuck.

So go outside, get in the car. Find yourself the ugliest, the dopest hooker and blow your load into her stretched ass to chill out. Kill some strangers, if doesn’t help, trash someone’s car, rob a store. No other entertainment in this fucking nowhere.

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bibatbrat · 9 months

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TMA Season 4

I did take a hiatus for several months three episodes before the finale for unknown (depressed) reasons 🥲 But nonetheless, I stay silly

Oliver Banks relatable as hell for stealing a dead man’s identity to sneak aboard a scientific research vessel so that he can get some damn sleep

But also him laying out for John what’s happening and why and the choice he needs to make… and then John starting to breathe again…. God

Tim being the first one John asks about when he wakes up. Screaming and crying and throwing up.

And Basira immediately adding Daisy 🥲

He’s The Archivist now huh

I love Melanie so much, queen of having emotions that no one else will fucking acknowledge

Chelicerae and the story-spinner are so good, I’m 100% stealing them for DnD or something

John saying he wishes he could talk to his team and then acknowledging that he’s nostalgic for something that never really happened 🥺

Simon Fairchild is so funny, man just loves being spooky dooky

Civilian Casualties is very good. I don’t normally care that much for the Slaughter statements, but this one was tasty

Performing non-consensual surgery on your unconscious co-worker = hostile work environment?

Martin talking to the tape recorder is so fucking cute

Man, that coffin just fucking loves eating cops huh

John using his powers to track Martin down for a convo…. Gay as hell

Martin telling John that he won’t let him die again…. Gay as hell

The whole concept of “bias of survivorship” is so interesting… I know that John doesn’t want to access that knowledge, but I do

Personally think that the Flesh ritual should have been called “the Munchies” but that’s just me

Helen trapping Jared in a rat maze labyrinth is so funny, I love her

Self-harm in the name of seeking knowledge… yes 😌

Jared’s so funny for being an Avatar and nope-ing out of his Fear’s ritual. He simply did not feel like it.

ngl seems a little disingenuous to leave behind an explanation/apology to your friends for the stupid thing you’re about to do w the rib that you got yanked out of you for some spilled tea (a stupid thing to do)

*uses my evil magic powers to give my friend therapy*

Seriously though, Daisy and John have a… rocky relationship, but it was very nice for them to get some Comfort together in the midst of the Hurt

The Everchase is so good. They got the zoomies

T H E E X T I N C T I O N

Shoutout to the Web and the End for being the baddest bitches around

I do love the “protag works for the bad guys bc they’ve traded their service for the safety of the people they care about” trope

Martin putting a bunch of tapes on the coffin to help John find his way back 🥺

Very funny that the Dark’s ritual was like “what if we had a sun….. of DARKNESS 😈😈😈”

John being disappointed that he can’t watch the cursed Web horror movies… same, bestie

Gertrude saying that she cares for Gerard and doesn’t want to risk losing him stopping the Unknowing… makes me 🥺 but also lowkey makes everything so much worse

Elias telling Martin that his decision about joining the Lonely is “too important to interfere with” is so funny

Smirke’s statement is so interesting… it’s wild that someone who was so instrumental in the academia of the Fears would have a change of heart so close to the end. It’s also wild that he continues to trust Jonah despite it all. At least he got the quick death he prayed for.

The Desolation’s beef with Gertrude after Agnes is so tasty

And the way they create Agnes is so wonderfully fucked up and terrible

Agnes being destroyed by DOUBT. AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE MADE THEM HANG HERRRRRRR

John getting hurt when he tries to use his powers to Know what Peter’s plans are is very good

Can’t believe Mikaele Salesa fell for the old “one last job” trap 😔 we hate to see it

Gertrude intimidating Arthur Nolan…. What a fucking girlboss

V much like Arthur’s notion that the entities understand people as little as people understand them

And him talking about how he thinks they fucked up raising Agnes bc they treated her as their messiah and not as a child 🥺

Annabelle 💜

Basira beating the shit out of Elias is very funny

Cul-de-sac is so fucking good

Daisy saving John from Julia and Trevor… Hunter v Hunter shit is AWESOME

Eric’s statement makes me crazy… I love all of the old Institute drama and it’s so fucked up to hear him being so intensely focused on keeping Gerry safe when we know in the present-day that he’s dead

John going to Martin to suggest that they both blind themselves and run away together… Gay

Cost of Living is also fucking bonkers

Melanie ☹️

Peter thinking that it’s funny to jump out and scare Martin is so fucking funny

Adelard concrete-ing an avatar to death(-ish) is badass as hell

But also very funny to imagine him doused in gasoline and about to light the match when he’s like “oh shit!!!” and runs off to write the email real quick lol

Georgie and Melanie… love wins

I love it when John tries to compel another avatar and they get into a stand-off. I think he loses to Helen because he’s acting out of the very human emotions of fear and love. To do it properly, I bet he needs to lose more of his humanity

Peter mentioning Tim and Martin shutting him down… my heart…

Jolias…..

Gertrude challenging Elias to shut the fuck up or actually kill her and him shooting her in the heart before she even finishes the threat is so camp, I love him

Daisy letting the Hunt overtake her so that she can fight Julia and Trevor AGHHHHHHHH

Elias and Peter do have incredibly divorced energies and I love them for it

Peter taunting John in the Lonely while he desperately looks for Martin

Oh god and him coming out with the “you won’t be able to hurt anyone if you stay in here ☺️”

It kills me how readily Peter gives up his statement. Yeah he resists and yeah he’s compelled, but once John gets him started it all comes tumbling out so easily… something something ironic how an avatar of the Lonely jumps so quickly at the chance of being heard and understood, the most human connection of all

Absolutely fascinated by the Lukas family dynamics… need some more statements from those bitches

Gertrude fucking stops his ritual by cancelling him, I’m….

The parallels between John compelling Martin to see him in the Lonely to follow him out versus John compelling Tim to see the truth behind the Unknowing to stop it (by killing himself)

OH IT’S THE FUCKING MEME HERE WE GOOOOO

I love Elias so much, what a fucking bitch

What a fantastic villainous monologue 💜

Oh they are so fucking fucked

#live blogging #j listens to tma #tma

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ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 11 months

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What's your favorite kind of car?

Do you like video games? Which is your favorite genre? Specific favorite game?

Favorite dog breed?

What's your morning routine?

Favorite writing space?

Best fictional character of all time?

You have a microphone that makes you heard around the world. You can say one thing. What will you say?

Okay, I honestly don’t… care much, for cars. They’re just meh to me. I like bikes better :D

I used to play Mario Galaxy and Mario Kart and Super Mario Bros Wii alllll the time when I was little, and to this day they’re still incredibly nostalgic and hold a lot of good memories. I think I was… six, when I played Mario Galaxy for the first time. My dad played Mario and I played the little player two star—it was freaking awesome, and always something I looked forward to. One of my favorite things to do was collect star-bits for my dad, and freeze enemies. It was just… awesome. So much fun.

However, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve liked video games less and less. My brother is the video game guy, and he is a hekkin nerd about it XD

I don’t really play any video games now, and haven’t played any for years, BUT! Zelda Breath Of The Wild has amazing cutscenes and a great story and ZELDA IS VERY LIKABLE and LINK OH MY GOSH LINK MY BELOVED!!! HE EATS ROCKS FOR FUN!!!

I went through a phase a year or two ago where me and my sister came up with loads of fanfic ideas for BOTW, and I still want to write them!! I think it’d be really fun! I’m just preoccupied with DSMP at the moment :)

So long story short, I’m not a video game person, but I really really like BOTW for the story (and also Tears Of The Kingdom).

Favorite dog breed oh goshhhh

I love golden retrievers (special dogs, and also the same breed as Shadow from Homeward Bound, which is my Most Nostalgic Movie and I need to see it again) and I also like golden doodles (same breed as my dog Ginger <3) and I also like german shepherds (really cool dogs they look so awesome) and I also like great pyrenees (giant fluffy darlings the lot of them and they protect sheep)

But I also really really like wolves :D

I don’t have much of a morning routine, to be perfectly honest; I’m a night owl, and mornings haven’t ever been my thing 😅

I guess they’re… chill? I don’t know, not much happens. I don’t even eat breakfast, most of the time.

FAVORITE WRITING SPACE I LIKE THIS QUESTION!!! Okay, so until just a couple months ago, I didn’t have much of a writing space. If I wanted to write, I usually wrote on a very uncomfortable chair in the living room, or sometimes in my bed.

But at the start of this year, I (somehow) got into a writing routine; every day at 8-8:45pm, I’ll sit down at the tiny table in the kitchen, where I stay until 10pm. It’s been my writing place for a while now, and it’s gotten to the point where I feel wrong when I write anywhere else 😅

So definitely that! Actually here’s a picture:

Now you get to read part of my romance story ajsgajsvjav I honestly had No Idea what I was doing as I wrote it

I can and have written other places—a park bench, a cabin, the notes app on my phone—but I much prefer the kitchen table!

Best. Fictional. Character. Oh boy. Deathy. I will probably ramble. Oh boy.

I gotta start with Ghostbur, of course. My beloved, the ghost of all time, lover of the color blue and sheep, Innocent, weirdly relatable, wearer of yellow sweaters… the perfect guy <3

The way cc!Wilbur treated him is criminal. cc!Wilbur needs to be tried for his crimes and found guilty of malicious intent, murder, enjoyment in other’s sufferings, and Far More.

AND THE FANDOM!!! DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE FREAKING FANDOM!!! People either see Ghostbur as an overgrown toddler who can’t understand anything, or they see him as this strange mystical Being who is serious all the time and never smiles and is always sad and depressed.

Neither are true! Stop it! It’s annoying and terrible! Freaking stop!

Ghostbur didn’t deserve what happened to him, and he doesn’t deserve the awful fandom interpretations.

Ghostbur deserves the whole world, and all the sheep in the world, and the softest sweaters imaginable <333

I also really really like Wilbur, Tommy, Tech, and Maul :D

Oooh… hm. That’s a tough one.

I think I’d say…

GOSH DEATHY THIS IS HARD!!!

I’d want to say something about Christianity, but there’s so much to say, and I’d want to make sure people understood and didn’t get confused, and I wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing and give people wrong assumptions.

Oooh… maybe I’d share some of my story, like when I dealt with doubts about my faith. That might help people. Oooh :0

Thank you soooo much, Deathy!! This was quite fun to answer :D

#Deathy tag #ask #ghostposting

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torikengel · 3 years

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Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 14)

“Tommy… You will be fine from now on; everything is going to be just fine,” you comforted him in a gentle tone as you caressed him. You spent a few minutes in a tight embrace that you wish would last forever, but you heard Luda calling you from the stairs.

“Darlin’, can you please open the door? My hands are full!” she said. You rushed to the door as you didn’t want to keep her waiting. She was already there as you opened it.

“Let me help you, Luda Mae,” you insisted and took one plate from her.

“I need to go check on Charlie. My boy is restless since the incident,” she exhaled with a worry in her voice.

“Sure, I can handle it from here,” you smiled at her, “Thank you.”

She nodded and disappeared down the stairs. You could only imagine what was going on with Hoyt. His regular self was a nightmare, but now? Now it’s gonna be hell. His thoughts about being discovered will eat him alive, and he will get out his frustration on everyone around him.

You fed Thomas, as you didn’t want him to move all that much. He was still hurting a lot, and his whole body was sore. When you both finished your meal, you put the dishes aside on a nightstand and caressed Thomas’s hair. He looked at you with a tired expression on his face.

“Oh Tommy… you need to be more careful… what would I do without you.” you sniffled as it pained you to see him like this. Also, what would happen to you if Thomas… well, wasn’t there. That would be a death sentence for sure. Despite having feelings for Thomas, the thoughts about you being kidnapped were creeping into your mind now and then, even if you tried to disperse them.

Thomas weakly smiled at your words but then turned away and stared at the ceiling before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep. Your words resonated in his head. He knew exactly what would happen to you if he was gone. No matter how hard you tried to get on Hoyt’s good side, without Thomas, there was no benefit in having you, other than being another mouth to feed, and letting you go was simply out of the picture.

You started humming a peaceful melody to ease Thomas’ mind. It helped, as his dark thoughts were exchanged by your beautiful face in the sun. He dreamed about that day he took you for a walk into the fields…

When you were sure he was asleep, you stopped humming and started thinking about the current situation. Who did the guys call? What did they manage to tell them? Do they know your location? Are police going to get involved? All these questions plagued your mind. You looked at Thomas. He seemed so sweet and innocent in his sleep… you’ve come this far. You did all those unspeakable things… because of him- no, for him. There was no turning back, was there?

You were battling with your logic. As quietly as possible, you stood up and looked around the room. The cuff that was holding you here before was on the floor next to the bed. You crouched down and examined it with your hands. As you got all teary-eyed, you noticed your diary under the bed. Right, you threw it there a couple of days ago. You thought about writing something down to get your emotions under control, but the empty pages were destroyed as you stabbed them with a pen last time after you finished writing. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to write something terrible about Thomas… You read stuff from before when you were still at home when everything was different. Nostalgic feelings overwhelmed you.

You were hurting. There were times you could at least try to escape, but you never took the chance. Now it was time to decide what you were going to do with your life. If anyone comes here…

You sat on the floor and thought about the current situation. Things looked dire. But now, it was time to take matters into your own hands. You crept outside the room and tried to listen for any voices. It was quiet. You heard snoring from somewhere, and after inspecting it closer, you realized it was Monty. That makes two people still possibly awake. If you met Luda, you could just say you needed to drink or something… if it was Hoyt, well… Just don’t act suspicious, you thought to yourself and tiptoed down the stairs. It was dark, and Luda was nowhere to be seen. You squinted to see better. There was a particular object you were after. After looking around for a bit, you located the phone on the floor where Hoyt last threw it.

“Yes!” you whispered to yourself, excited that Hoyt forgot about the phone and that it had some battery left. Now you had no time to waste; you hurried upstairs and closed yourself in the bathroom to make sure you had some level of privacy.

After a few deep breaths, you finally gained the courage to do it. You checked the last numbers called. There were two from the night they died. One button… the beeps gave you goosebumps as you awaited someone to pick up the phone.

“Hello? Mason?” you heard after a few seconds of waiting.

“Who’s there?” you replied with a shaky voice.

“Mason’s sister, who are you? Why do you have his phone? Is he okay?” she was visibly scared for her brother; it made you curious.

“I met Mason on his way, we hooked up, and he forgot his phone here…” you tried making your lie as convincing as possible. “You sound worried. Are you okay?”

“WHAT?” she said in disbelief.

“Maybe you can call his friends to come back for the phone?” you ignored her distressed tone.

“That’s fucking unbelievable, so he made up that story about a mutated maniac to cover up for his cheating, huh? He called his fiancé and told her the same bullshit story! We were so worried and called the cops…” she shouted into the phone.

“Well, I don’t know anything about that happening. We spent the whole night together, and he left after I made him breakfast. I just noticed the phone was in bed when I was preparing to sleep,” you said in a surprised tone.

“Thanks for calling, I guess; I have to go deal with the cops searching for a fictional killer…” she abruptly ended the call. You exhaled and smiled… you did it! You protected Thomas, and it involved no killing.

Your smile didn’t last long as the door swung open, and Hoyt was standing there with a shotgun aimed at your head.

“I knew it!” he licked his lips. “You just whore yerself out for Thomas to stay alive, but that ends here.”

You completely froze and lost any ability to speak for yourself. He was closer and closer; you could feel his breath on your neck. “But I’ll have some fun first.” He whispered into your ear while pressing the shotgun against your abdomen.

a/n: *suspense* You are pretty brave tho! Also don’t worry, it won’t be a year until next part. I’d say just a day or two.

#Thomas Hewitt #thomas brown hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x oc #Texas Chainsaw Massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #Sheriff Hoyt #luda mae hewitt #slasher #horror slashers #slashers x you #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt/you #story #roadtrip #x reader #tommy hewitt #horror

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eponymous-rose · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E123 (Feb. 2, 2021)

After last week’s thoroughly relaxing and brief episode, tonight’s guests are Sam Riegel and Liam O’Brien!

Brian, to Sam: “You look like Tim Curry moved to Nantucket to become a sommelier.”

How did Caleb and Veth approach the ally-ship with the Tombtakers? Sam: “I mean, we got some information, and I think we got a little closer to Lucien and knowing whether he has any of Mollymauk inside of him, which is I think the most important knowledge that we’re seeking right now. Is there someone to be saved inside there? We got glimpses, and we got a little hint that Mollymauk is maybe still in there? Maybe? And we got a little more insight into their plans, so that was useful.” Liam: “We know why we were having that fucking dream.” Sam: “But other than that, it was just a road trip with assholes.” Liam: “All our plans have been ripped in a new direction, and it’s just been improvisation.” Sam notes that it feels like we’re always about to rip into Caleb’s backstory, but haven’t yet followed that thread all the way through. Liam: “It’s partially frustrating, to be sure, but also I like the idea that-- his whole shit has been selfish, it’s been dealing with the trauma that he’s been through and not the greater world, and that’s been shifting somewhat.”

Does Caleb think the book was worth it, and is he still interested in reading more? Sam: “How do you ask Caleb not to read a book?” Liam: “Caleb has spent enough time with the Nein to know you shouldn’t put a hand on a hot stove. After what happened with the book, he knows it’s a terrible idea. But maybe. But it’s a really bad idea. But reserve judgment, but it’s a really terrible idea. I think that Caleb is very aware that mages and people like him very easily fall prey to their curiosity and it can lead to bad places. But there is still that amount of scientific endeavor where you think there is value in knowing and learning, and maybe we can ride that line. He was True Neutral at the start of the campaign, and maybe he’s Chaotic Good now, but part of him is hubris, even if it’s a little bit, still.”

What about Otis has drawn Veth’s focus? Sam: “I mean, he’s a little shit. She was curious about Otis because he’s a small like she is, and in talking to him, he seemed to be real creepy, but he was just creepy and distant and didn’t value his past or family or anything like that. She sees someone who’s like her, but so not like her, and maybe that scares her a little bit more.”

How does Caleb feel about Beau being on this ride with him? Liam: “The dream is another example of how Caleb had very narrow vision of the things he wanted to do. It used to seem so massive to him, but now... To have Beauregard involved feels right. If anyone in the group is going to stop him from grabbing something he shouldn’t, it is probably Beauregard. She’ll punch him in the fucking face to stop him, which I think he needs, to a certain extent. They’re two different kinds of nerds, and I kind of like that, that this group of nine philosophers, they’ve reached out and somehow grabbed the two nerds in the party.”

How do Caleb and Veth see the Somnovum? Sam: ��I mean, they seem real bad. Anything that’s a quorum of powerful entities heading towards your planet to unleash an energy of any kind, typically bad? I assume they’re bad, or at least the Tombtakers wish them to do ill.” Liam: “I think they want the kind of peace that comes from snapping your fingers and turning people to dust. Caleb sees them as a cautionary tale; they’re the worst-case scenario for arcane inquisitiveness.” He sees Allura Vysoren as the antidote to that.

Why the staunch refusal to use Halfling Luck? Sam: “I don’t like Luck! I just don’t like Luck. I think it’s cheap, I think it’s a cheat, I think it’s stupid. It just feels like a do-over.” Liam: “I am your antithesis! If I ever voice a halfling, I am going to hammer that feature!” Sam: “What I love about D&D is that you don’t know what’s going to happen. If you roll bad, okay, that’s it. If you roll well, it makes the success more enjoyable to know that it’s a pure success and don’t one where you’re like well actually... it’s so stupid. If someone was about to die, I would probably use the fuckin’ Luck feature. Well. It depends who. If it was Travis, yeah, no, he’s fucked, sorry.”

Liam drops that he’s picked Sam’s character class and race again for a hypothetical campaign three. Sam: “It’s not what I was thinking for future characters, but I’m excited to explore.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Mollymauk by KatofValkyrie!

What was it like to bring the Tombtakers into the tower? Liam: “It is complicated, because he does not like him. Lucien’s just a fucking dick. But Caleb also knows that Molly’s in there somewhere. That tower’s only for the M9, and Lucien’s not in the M9. Their situation with these people is shitty, it’s terrible. Caleb doesn’t feel like they have the upper hand. He doesn’t like that they’re even going on this journey per se, because life is bigger than his bullshit. He feels like they’ve been losing over and over again, so it was a gamble to try to get on equal footing.

What spurred Veth into making sure she and Yasha have some one-on-one time? Sam: “Yasha hasn’t been getting a lot of moments to shine. Now that she’s back, I just got the impression that Yasha feels out of place sometimes, or timid, or unsure of herself. When Veth was Nott, Nott certainly had her share of those moments. I think she sees a kindred spirit and wants to make sure that she’s been giving all the opportunity she can to flourish and thrive. Dani, you’re just laughing at my mustache, aren’t you?” Dani: “Yes, that’s the only thing I’m laughing at through this whole bullshit.” Sam denies all knowledge of trolling, but eventually admits, on the topic of Yasha and Beau getting together: “They’ve made me wait this long... I’m going to make them wait a little bit longer!”

What was it like to show his friends the upper floors? Liam: “I kinda expected somebody to sneak up there before that. That being part of the tower is not even a conscious choice of his, it just is. The reason Caduceus has creeped Caleb out for a long time is because he talks about how-- Caduceus is a really kind person and wants Caleb to let go of the past. And in a really simplistic way, turn that frown upside-down. And that’s just not who Caleb is, and it’s not who everybody is. There is something to be said for trying to stay open and positivity, but thinking you can shut out the past, especially a traumatic one, is just not true. When things happen to us, we carry them. But to candy-coat it and say, ah, I’m free, or everything is good, or I’ve turned the corner... life is way messier than that. It’s not flipping a switch, it’s not bad-to-good, it is such a work in progress. Even when you make strides and start to get to a better place, you can backslide a lot. So the tower is who he is, and the tower is 7/9ths love for his friends, and 1/9th hope, but there’s still a percentage of him that carries everything from the past, and knows that he should, and knows that he should not go back to where he was. And the way to do that is not to say everything is rainbows, but to remember it. The tower is just like an extension of who he is. He’s never going to forget the past, and he’s never going to be like, I’m good, or I’ve turned a corner. He should remember the past, and he should do better, always.”

Does Veth still believe it’s possible to get Molly back? Sam: “Well, she was a person trapped in another body for many years, so has some experience there, and definitely believes that the spirit and soul of Molly is in there and just needs to be unlocked somehow.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot by HarpySN!

How are Caleb and Veth dealing with their guilt and fear about being in the middle of this? Sam: “It definitely was a deep conversation that might have repercussions going forward. The problem with all of what we’re doing now is that we don’t have time to deal with our petty problems anymore. It’s all high tension all the time!” Liam: “It’s true; they’re not in control of their situation at all anymore.” Sam: “It’s good to have these check-ins, but it’s not like we can do anything about them. We’re reactive right now.” Liam: “He’s not happy with where they are, but they wouldn’t even be this far if the goblin hadn’t pulled him out of the mud. So part of it is, you saved me from where I was and got me on my feet again, and now it’s disconcerting to see it all just get knocked sideways by something he never could’ve predicted. I think Caleb felt nostalgic for when things were simpler, in a way, for them, when we’re both troubled drifters.”

What was it like to see Gelidon’s return? Liam: “I am the least superstitious person at the table. Ashley’s dice suck.” Sam: “It was fun fighting a dragon!” Liam: “Two massive battles in one episode, neither of which came away with a victory. I guess surviving is a victory.” Sam: “I’d forgotten about the dragon, honestly.” Liam: “I loved it. I was so upset at the idea that we were going to stealth and not get into it.”Sam: “Mercer doesn’t keep a live dragon around and not do something with it. That dragon’s coming back.”

How do Caleb and Veth feel about going to see Essek? Sam: “He can be very helpful, I believe, but as Sam Riegel, a player of D&D, I’m super suspicious. What the fuck is Essek doing up there, so close, now? I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. And I can throw him pretty far because he floats.” Liam: “I 100% agree with you. I do not understand what Essek could bring to what we are going through. I know the audience loves him, I love him too. He’s a really cool character. But he’s fucking toxic. He out of curiosity caused a war between two nations. And Caleb has been changed for the good by the M9 from months of travel with them. Essek has had none of that. Caleb has changed for the good, but not because of people like Essek. Essek is where Caleb came from. We kept the lid on the pot during the whole treaty at sea and it almost all went fucking sideways, and only because we pressed him into a corner. I hope that guy finds some sort of balance and peace for himself, but I do not see how his input here would be helpful. There’s other heavy hitters that I would try to pull in.”

Liam notes that the Cloven Crystal is in the Bag of Holding. Sam: “Do I have Fluffernutter, or is Fluffernutter gone?” Liam: “Nope. 300 pounds of fireworks? Gone. A dead mage, a threshold crest, and fireworks.” Dani: “Your basic essentials.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

Note

[The following ask is just an attempt on my, Winter's, part to exploit a quirk in tumblr's code that keeps formatting from copy/pasted items when answering an ask on desktop as opposed to making a text post.]

MC is a Phoenix and Child of a Famous Magic User

A slightly modified request fill for @guardianoftheunderworld090! This ended up getting away from me a bit, and by a bit I mean a lot so uhhh Oops! Because of that, I didn’t end up doing the dateables+Luke, so apologies! But this is already probably wayyyyy off from the original request anyway.

Again, oopsie :3

Content Warnings: Temporary character death, spoilers for Lesson 16+, brief implication of immolation (but not really bc, y’know, phoenix), mild-to-moderate blood and injuries/violence

As soon as they learned their name, everyone knew of MC. While not quite on Solomon or the great witch Maddi’s level, their parents had made quite the name for themselves in the magical community. Their pre-existing knowledge of magic and the supernatural was therefore completely expected.

Less so was what happened when they died.

Mammon had been cradling their body when it happened, still too stunned to react to his smug younger brother gloating about taking out such a fragile, weak creature. The entire House of Lamentation was in shock: MC, the human they had come to cherish, was bleeding out right in front of their eyes and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

The Avatar of Greed’s breath hitched as he felt their pulse fade, watched the rise and fall of their chest cease…

And then he screamed as MC’s body burst into flames. They were scorching hot, but left no marks on him nor the surrounding area. On instinct, Beelzebub darted forward to pull Mammon away from the inferno, his protests weakened by surprise and grief. Belphegor was knocked backwards off his feet by the force of the flames, and they all watched as the fire raged on, until it began to take on a recognizable shape.

Not of MC, but of a brightly coloured flaming bird.

The phoenix cocked its head to the side, as though assessing its surroundings, eyes passing over each of the frozen brothers before rounding on Belphegor. It shrieked, puffed up feathers interspersed with jets of flame, and charged the youngest with its sharp beak and talons bared.

And suddenly it was no longer a bird.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” MC yelled as they continued to slash at Belphie. A large pair of bright flaming wings arched behind their back, threatening to torch anything they touched. “I LITERALLY RISKED THE WRATH OF LUCIFER FOR WEEKS TO HELP YOUR SORRY ASS GET OUT OF THAT ATTIC AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! WITH MURDER?!”

Blood pooled in Belphie’s mouth from a particularly nasty slash across his lip. He spit to the side before replying, “In my defense, most people stay dead when you kill them!”

“THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO—”

“...MC?” Levi said, voice small. “I-Is that really you…?” His tail swished behind him anxiously.

MC turned their attention to the rest of the brothers (one set of talons still embedded in Belphie’s leg, in case he had thoughts of running).

Beel was stock still, eyes pointed ahead but staring at something beyond the room. Asmo was crying silently, though his expression was neutral and wide eyed. The gears in Satan’s head were visibly turning even as he shredded the sleeves of his shirt with his claws. Mammon was misty eyed, with such an open expression of love and want and hurt that it made them want to cry as well. And Lucifer… The Avatar of Pride’s usual mask of stony superiority had crumbled into something lost and broken.

They looked back to Belphegor, who clutched at his leg, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes. They slowly remove their talons from his leg and face the group, folding their wings inward until they regain their humanoid form.

“I guess I have a bit of explaining to do, huh.”

Lucifer

Too many things have happened so fast, he doesn’t even know how to respond.

Not only has MC apparently been having secret meetings with Belphegor, not only are the pacts they’ve made with his brothers just tools to free him, not only did Belphegor then betray them and attempt to kill them, but they’re also… A phoenix?!

Distantly, hysterically, he thinks, how in the three realms is that not on their file?

“Oh, I’m also not technically from this timel-”

Lucifer shushes them. He can’t deal with any other reveals right now.

Once… everything is dealt with, he allows himself to be curious about MC’s origins.

Have they always been this way? Were they adopted by their parents, a familiar given human form, or had something gone wrong one day with a spell?

He’ll never ask them though. He knows origins can be touchy subjects.

He grounds himself in the practical. Does MC know how to control their abilities? Are their needs being met? Are there any additional accommodations they require?

Sometimes, when their wings are out, he can’t help but be reminded of the similarly fiery wings of the seraphim from home the Celestial Realm and feel nostalgic.

His more possessive side also relishes the fact that they share a connection through association with birds, especially considering how some varieties of phoenixes tend to resemble peacocks.

It must be difficult for them to preen those large wings, do they need any help? No, it’s not that he wants to, don’t be ridiculous. But if they ever want his help...

Mammon

Once the initial shock of “holy shit the love of my life just BURST INTO FLAMES IN MY ARMS” fades, he’s just happy MC’s alive and well.

But he does put on a front of being upset that they never told him about their nature.

“Stupid hu— uhhh, phoenix, I worried for nothin’! Wait, no, I wasn’t worried at all—”

“Sure you weren’t,” MC retorts with a smile.

Seriously though, why didn’t they tell him? He’s their guardian, their First, he should know these things!

Do they think he’ll… try and take advantage of them because of their powers? He’d never!

Okay, maybe when they first met he might have considered it, but not now! Not now that he…

One night, Mammon and MC are up late watching some terrible Devildom romcom. MC has long since fallen asleep, and one of their enormous wings is draped over Mammon, pinning him in place.

The flames interspersed amongst their feathers are short and glow only dimly, like dying embers. Occasionally, a few will flare slightly or twitch as though a breeze has blown by.

“...I was really scared, you know,” he murmurs to their sleeping form. “I really thought you were gone. And I realized at that moment that I… I can’t lose you. I love you so much MC. You’re worth more to me than anything else in the Devildom, than anything in all the three realms. Please don’t scare me like that ever again…”

MC doesn’t stir, but the flames on their wing follow Mammon’s hand as he pets the warm feathers. They’re only pleasantly warm, with a smooth, silky texture to them.

He snuggles closer to them and drifts off himself, comforted by the heat of their body, human and avian anatomy alike.

Leviathan

Levi cannot believe his luck. He finally gets himself a friend he can really trust, and then his younger brother (who was trapped in an attic by the way, NOT in the human world like Lucifer said, because oh yeah, also Lucifer’s a liar) kills them, and now they’re—

It’s too much to process at once. All he can latch onto is that’s them, right? That’s really his MC, his Henry, the one person outside of his family who doesn’t dismiss him as some gross shut-in?

Once he’s assured himself that they’re safe, he’s immediately hit with the rest of the surprises to process. He hugs MC tightly against himself, whether to protect them from Belphegor or himself from… everything, is anyone’s guess.

It takes a long time for Levi’s newfound clinginess to dissipate. He refuses to let MC be alone around Belphegor under any circumstances, even if it means leaving his room more than he’s comfortable with.

In this time, he learns a lot about MC.

He learns that they seek to cool off the same way he seeks out warmth, and that this makes them excellent cuddling partners. He learns that they let out very adorable chirps of squawks when caught off guard.

He learns the hard way that a phoenix in love is a fire hazard.

But he also learns that he’d risk every item in his collection to see MC’s radiant smile.

Satan

Set the phoenix thing aside, Satan thinks to himself as he rushes over to inspect MC for injuries. Set it aside.

Once he’s sure they are unharmed, he turns his attention to Belphegor.

The Avatar of Sloth is lucky MC got to him first. Satan wouldn’t have stopped at a warning strike. Belphie knows from the murderous glare shot his way that it is only the presence of the others that’s stopping Satan from taking his revenge.

His fingers linger in their wings. MC’s feathers are all out of sorts, but there are no bald patches indicating any serious burns or other wounds. Still, Satan cards through them carefully, checking and double checking for any signs of damage. MC fidgets under his attention.

“Uh, Satan?” They’re blushing. “That kinda tickles.”

“Oh! Oh, um, sorry, I was just— you’re okay, right?”

They let out a small laugh and bop him gently with a wing. “Everything’s in working order, don’t worry.”

“That’s— Good, that’s uh, that’s great.”

“...Go ahead, you dork,” MC prompts with a smile. He blinks at them owlishly. “Ask your questions!”

He does, over the course of the next couple of weeks, in between therapeutic pranks against a certain youngest brother.

Asmodeus

As MC is born again from flame, Asmo learns the true horror of love.

He had always been the one to invoke passion in others: to seduce loyal partners and drive others mad with desire, to twist their love into lust and unleash its destructive potential. Despite this, he never really understood the feeling himself, why something as ephemeral as a feeling could drive humans to such extremes.

But seeing MC wounded and bloody, watching the light in their eyes dim, the Avatar of Lust had felt the call of blood and rage and grief and love for the first time. And watching MC dust themself off as they explain their unique heritage, Asmo realizes that those feelings would have destroyed him. He would have done anything and everything to bring MC back to him, given up any part of himself just to see them one more time.

So forgive him, MC, if his movements ever slow to a stop while preening your wings. If he sometimes stares at you with awe, or holds you tight enough to bruise.

His heart has never been anyone’s but his before, and he is so very afraid of getting burned.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Oh this is Not bringing up good memories at all.

Something about seeing MC and Belphegor, bloody with the scent of fire and death in the air jumbles his senses and suddenly they’re not in the House of Lamentation but the battlefield and she’s been struck down, he was too slow, he chose his twin over his sister can he live with that? Can any of them? She’s falling she’s falling and he’s falling and they’re going to—

When he snaps back into awareness, Beel is restraining a hissing and spitting MC as they scratch and claw at him to get to Belphegor, the one wing Beel didn’t manage to pin down flapping about erratically.

Their movements only stop when they feel hot tears on their back. MC calms down and shifts more gently in Beelzebub’s grasp, turning to face him.

“Beel, it’s okay,” they say, cupping his face with a bloody, taloned hand. He smells the blood and lets out a sob.

Belphegor moves to comfort his twin, but MC’s wings snap open, shielding the pair in a ring of fire and feathers.

“I— I…” He can’t form the words. You died, my brother killed you, he’s here, you hurt him, why is he here, why did he hurt you, how did— “Please,” he says, finally.

MC frowns, hesitates. But slowly, they lower their wings and step aside, letting the twins reunite. As they embrace, Belphegor shoots them a look, but it’s not hateful. It’s not regretful or apologetic either, more of a profound confusion.

Despite demons’ regenerative abilities, Belphegor remains mostly bedridden for quite some time. It seems a phoenix’s wounds negate most healing factors, and the 5 pronged gash in his leg is particularly stubborn in its refusal to close. He jokes that the slow recovery must be because MC will never forgive him for what he’s done. Beel chastises him and says they’re more forgiving than he thinks.

Still, Belphie is surprised to see MC join Beel when he comes to change the youngest’s bandages. They hold out their hands, revealing 10 strange, press-on caps over their talons as they assure Belphie they won’t hurt him.

Where Beel is overly cautious and gentle, MC is practiced and efficient as they inspect, clean, and redress his wounds.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” Belphie can’t help but ask, earning him a stern glare from his twin.

“For attacking you after you killed me, not knowing it wouldn’t take? No,” they reply around a mouthful of medical tape. “It’s an excuse to talk.” They gesture for Beel to move his hand from the gauze pad so they can tape it down.

“You want to talk with your would-be murderer.” MC gathers up the garbage and old bandages to toss them in the trash.

“You’re not the first person to try, you know,” they remark as they dust off their hands.

“What?!” the twins shout in unison, Beel nearly dropping the scissors he was putting back into the first aid kit.

“I’ll tell you about it if you tell me why…” MC gestures broadly to Belphegor, “this all happened the way it did.”

This exchange of stories does not repair MC and Belphegor’s fraught relationship. That is not how wounds heal. But nevertheless, some weeks later, the House of Lamentation has a movie night. And sandwiched in the middle of the familial cuddle pile is MC, Beel, and Belphie, each tucked under one fiery wing.

#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #as you can see this stylistically got very far away from me lmao #i'm not sure how i feel about it #eh #c'est la vie

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 3 years

Note

if you share fluffy/comforting hcs i will be your bestfriend

Come here, we need some soft content after all the angst happening with the League:

Kurogiri likes bees and he turns into a beekeeper. He buys a house some time away from the city, where he can be at peace.

Mr. Compress let's Toga decorate his prosthesis with stickers. They clean it after certain time so she can decorate it all over again.

Spinner teaches Tomura how to drive every Friday in an empty parking lot. The kids from class 1-A take turns going with them and they record the whole thing. People is really into that, specially when they get Bakugo screaming at both of them for being terrible at driving. After every session, Tomura buys them ice-cream and they sit around while he asks what have they been doing at UA.

Dabi goes with Natsuo when he decides to get his first tattoo. Actually, they end up getting matching tattoos as a promise to never get apart again. Shoto wants one two but Fuyumi is making him wait until he's 21 years old.

Eri once sees Toga smiling and she goes to hug her, telling her that crying is okay too. Everyone goes deadly quiet as Toga suddenly cries a little, hugging Eri back. The girl who can't smile is smiling and the girl who can't cry is crying. And they're doing it because they're happy.

Dabi and Shoto take turns mocking Bakugo while Shigaraki and Deku take turns defending him. Which is really funny because them you have Toga and Uraraka pointing out which team is winning.

Bakugo gets to punch everyone at least once. At least people stop him before he goes against Toga and Uraraka. That'd be a hell of a fight.

The girls at class 1a and class 1b adore Toga and they always invite her when they're going out. Tomura drives her to the place and gives her money to buy ice-cream.

Speaking of which: have you ever thought about Kirishima punching Dabi and Shigaraki just once for kidnapping Bakugo and then going "okay, and now let's hug".

Spinner is like a big brother for the whole class 1b. They are always calling him for advice and help. Once they all decided to cosplay him for Halloween and he almost cried.

Hatsume gets all excited when Compress asks her if she can do a prosthesis for him. He let's the kids at UA create him support tech that he tests. He finds it pretty funny.

Eri tests her power on Dabi every few moths to keep his body from going worst. He messes her hair every time, pointing out how cool is her horn. She reminds him a lot of Tomura and that makes him a little nostalgic.

They find pics of Tomura as a kid by pure luck. He's with his sister and his mother and his grandparents, his father taking the photo. They also find the photo of Nana with Kotaro. Tomura let's All Might keep that one.

When Tomura first meets Momo it hits him how much she reminds him of Hana. He's ashamed at first but eventually he tells the class about his sister. The girls are nicer to him after that and so are the boys.

Rei invites Toga and Tomura for dinner every few weeks. Toga and Shoto are somehow friends, because they can rant about Deku and not understanding people. Since the first meeting, Natsuo became sort of friends with Tomura because they are the same age.

Natsuo invites Tomura to sport games and to the cinema sometimes and Fuyumi worries, but after some time she realizes Dabi is right. Tomura is not a danger to Natsuo.

Spinner joins them after a while. They are not like a crazy trio ranting about sports and movies. Spinner even finds a way to take Natsuo to the gym with him and now they train together.

Tomura and Dabi sometimes disappear together at night. They're on the roof, watching the stars. Those nights when they're feeling raw and violent, they prefer to go with Kurogiri and stay there for some time. Those days are hard, specially because it's easy to miss the friends that did not make it out alive, but they have each other and they hold tight together.

Mr. Compress helps the following years with the cultural festival. Everything is colorful and dramatic and lovely. He is like the special guest. Kurogiri visits the city those days.

Inko finds herself protecting Tomura more than once, mothering him about his scratching and scars. He's constantly eating with the Midoriyas.

Toga and Monoma become besties and no one knows who that happened. She spents a lot of time around class 1b. She also teaches Shinso how to become invisible. Present Mic gets kinda nervous but Aizawa finds it interesting. Well, that kid stabbed him once, she's good. Shinso can learn a bunch from her.

Kurogiri starts helping Fuyumi with teaching kids somehow too. He's really patient and kids adore to play around with his misty form. Fuyumi finds him reliable and responsible. Who would guess they'd find comfort in each other.

Tensei, Iida's brother, gets help from Natsuo with his therapy. Iida and Deku get Melissa Shield to help him with new tech support. He finds a way to work as a minor hero again, and he trains a lot with Compress, both of them trying to regain more mobility.

The best day of Tomura's life is when Stain recognizes he was right. Also? Iida and Tomura bonding over hating Stain? Think about the possibilities.

Tomura teaches Uraraka how to win money online playing games. She's AMAZING at that. Dabi and Shoto secretly gives her a lot of money on her streams. Dabi because he can waste Enji's money and Shoto for the same reason, plus she's her friend.

Tsuyu and Spinner bonding over the stress of their friends being morons. Also they enjoy each other's company a lot.

Dabi and Denki and Cami speaking in memes and only Present Mic is able to translate.

Tomura and Uraraka bonding over not being able to touch things with all their fingers.

Dabi and Sero doing pranks with Sero's tape.

Dabi is definitely a bad influence for class 1a. And even a wrost influence for class 1b.

Tomura is not better but at least he teaches them important stuff.

Dabi will deny to his death that he likes those kids. Tomura teases him constantly.

Toga has a secret account to post stuff about Tomura and Dabi and how they are secretly in love. Class 1a and class 1b join. Soon they're losing their shit all the time around them and they both are angry because they don't know what's happening.

And then class 1b makes it a competition because they ship Spinner and Shigaraki better. It is a naive game, Tomura can't be mad because it's really chaotic, but he asks them eventually to tone it down because they're crossing some limits.

Dabi and Spinner are clueless.

Kurogiri says he ships Tomura with happiness when they ask him.

Then proceeds to say he adores Spinner.

Shoto gets insulted in behalf of his brother and he gets Compress to say he prefers Shigaraki with Dabi.

When they officially asks Shigaraki, he send the meme of "Both? Both. Both is good". Next day Vlad King and Aizawa has to endlessly ask them to stop laughing in class. Specially when Tomura walks in wirh the biggest smirk ever.

AND THIS IS GOING TOO FAR. OMG. SORRY FOR WRITING SO MUCH. I GOT EXCITED.

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warmau · 3 years

Text

"congratulations and welcome to the team!"

the overly peppy voice that comes out of the body of the middle-aged man somehow doesn't match the soulless look in his eyes

he hands you a whistle and a t-shirt, which when you unfold greets you with the name of the water park you've been cursed to work at all summer

the font is big and bubbly and very, very, very yellow - it's almost nauseating

you turn the shirt around and on the back, in that same childish font, is the word staff

"jungwoo, glad to see you here again!"

you turn your head to see the man, who is your shift manager, patting a rather thin and tall looking boy on the back

he makes a gagging noise which the manager just laughs heartily at before dropping the same shirt and whistle in jungwoo's palm

"hey wait - which ride am i on this year?"

"um let me see - you're on ........ ah, the log flume with the new employee."

you motion to yourself because it seems like you're the only new face at the orientation

everyone else has cliqued up and is already mumbling about how much this is going to suck with each other

jungwoo slinks over and throws the shirt over his shoulder

"log flume kinda sucks, just so you know."

"really? i can't imagine getting sprayed by residual dirty water isn't a thrilling experience - especially when it happens a hundred times a day."

there's a pause and then a large grin forms of jungwoo's features

"oh - i like you."

you affirm the notion with a little bit of a prideful shrug and smile yourself

good, i think i like you too.

of course - when you and jungwoo first exchange these sentiments, it's nothing more than an employee-to-employee relationship

jungwoo has a sense of humor that either tends to fly over peoples heads or offend them (sometimes both)

but you catch on quickly and sometimes even beat him in a game of his own wits

during an opening shift where you two are testing the ride and cleaning up the waiting area, jungwoo confides that when he was in middle school someone had pointed out that he's "eccentric"

you scrunch your nose up as you tie a knot around the garbage bag in your hand

"eccentric is a polite way of saying fucking weird, you know that right jungwoo?"

"do you think im 'fucking weird' then?"

he does a pose and you shake your head with a little laugh

"no i think you're just....you."

he relaxes his limbs and tilts his head to the side, without a verbal answer you somehow sense that that was the one thing jungwoo really wanted to hear

working the log flume though - is as hellish as expected

most of your days are spent standing in those hot, cheap plastic ponchos and waving at families with screaming children or rowdy teenagers who barely fit in the ride with their bony knees

despite your efforts to keep dry, you and jungwoo always end up soaked

he's forgetful and clumsy so half the time you have to share the towel you bring with him, not to mention your lunch gets gobbled up by him too

you ask at some point why jungwoo just doesn't bring his own stuff - you are not a one-stop 7/11 shop

he laughs and takes a bite into the huge soft pretzel sold in the water park

"why should i bring anything, you've always got everything we need!"

a pang like the toll of a bell vibrates through the cavity of your chest

we - what about "we", there's no "we", there's just......."friends"

a sour taste in your mouth accompanies the thought and so you push it to the back of your mind

"still - at least start bringing your own change of clothes, you're too tall for any of my shirts."

"crop-tops are in though!"

you stare down at the switchboard that operates the log flume - the buttons with scraping labels, the emergency stop button, the little cubbies below where people leave their phones

the park is closing in thirty minutes and jungwoo has scampered off to hand in your ticket collection to the manager

the summer evening is hovering between the last beams of light and suddenly - alone at the top of the ride - something shifts

you unfile the thought you had before, the idea of what 'we' means to you and jungwoo

and you come to a daunting realization that, after only a couple of weeks of laughter and grueling minimum wage work, the statement "i think i like you too" is starting to take a new shape in your heart

"hey - did you drown up there?"

you lean over the side and see jungwoo below waving

even with the distance the essence of his warm shine floats up and tickles at your cheeks.

you swat it away, but it doesn't work.

"no - the log flume ghost caught me, i can't come down."

you joke back and he salutes

"wait there, i will come save you - i have fought that ghost once before!"

he's joking, but something flutters its wings when you hear him rush up the steps with all the seriousness of coming to get you. to save you.

when he reaches you - you mask the weird flush climbing up your spine - and pretend to be flailing

jungwoo gives you a kindergarten laugh as he joins in on the fun - a fake punch to the face of a fake ghost

he grabs you around the waist and tugs you toward him, and inches from his face, you see something behind the childish glint in the brown of his eyes.

he's so handsome.

"saved you! let's get out of here or the manager will accuse us of trying to sneak in overtime."

the weight of his hands on you is only described as comforting, easy. so very easy.

so even when he lets go and you are trailing behind him and the rest of the park employees after closing you miss it, you miss the touch of a friend who is becoming a lot more than just that.

"jungwoo's being switched to the lazy river starting today, that place is such a cease pool of idiocy that i need more coverage on it."

a groan escapes jungwoo before you can even process what the manager is saying

"what? but i hate that place most of all - do you know how many random dads get into fights on that thing?"

"am i going to be on log flume alone?"

your voice is way calmer than you expect it to be and the manager makes a passive motion with his hand, "yep - and i trust you'll handle it fine."

jungwoo's look is apologetic and slightly bitter, you reach out to give him a pat on the shoulder, but your palm hovers above the fabric of his shirt before pulling embarrassingly back to your side

either he doesn't notice or he chooses not to say anything because jungwoo turns and trudges over to the other three people assigned to the river

without jungwoo, the weird gnawing feeling of a summer crush only gets stronger, because now that he's not glued to your side

you miss him so terribly it almost makes you feel sick

coupled with the boredom of being alone the entire day with strangers seems to just worsen the symptoms

a week into the switch, you make the choice to visit jungwoo on your lunch break

you arrive just in time to see the aftermath of one of those dad fights he had mentioned

jungwoo is waist-deep in the water with two of those inflatable tubes on either side. he looks like he's negotiating a war truce between two disgruntled generals and he hands the tubes back as the men disperse to their respective families with scowls on their faces

jungwoo is also not wearing a shirt

"lazy river is much more hands-on then log flume"

the line of his back is lean and there are some healing bruises under his ribs which you can only assume are from his rather clumsy nature, the other thought of what could have caused them makes your head spin

"hey - i see you're literally in the trenches"

jungwoo turns and runs a hand through his wet bangs to get a better look at you. the action shouldn't make your knees feel like jelly.

"i hate this place, come over here and dunk my head underwater please."

you squat down near the edge and jungwoo wades closer to you

you place a brown paper bag beside you and motion to it

"im assuming you still aren't bringing your own lunches and are surviving off scraps from everyone else?"

he grins, "you know me so well"

i know i do - you think to say, but keep the words in your throat - i know i do, which is weird because we've been friends for a little over a month.

"hows log flume?"

"boring without you."

jungwoo whistles and you catch the way the sun makes every little drop of water on him glisten

"ill stop by on my break since you stopped by on yours"

a second of comfortable silence passes and jungwoo jumps up and out of the river with an ease

he grabs the lunch you've brought and is about to say something when a whistle from the other side of the river catches your attentions

"ugh this place is supposed to be lazy."

he complains and before he turns to the direction of the sound, he touches your cheek with the slightly wet palm of his hand

"thanks for lunch, see you later."

the gesture haunts you.

you even ask someone in the line for log flume what it means and she gives you a side glare that can only be conjured by a specific breed of mom.

you try to google it, but nearly drop your phone into the water.

jungwoo doesn't come by that day - he actually only manages to visit you the next day.

he shows up in his trunks, no shirt, and the towel he never gave back to you after he borrowed it over his shoulder

"sorry, do you know how many kids get food poisoning and decide the riv-"

you put up a hand to stop him from divulging details and jungwoo leans against the post that controls the ride as you wave off the next bunch of people

you feel him watch you before he joins you and helps start lowering the bar for the next log that splashes its way into the starting point

as you two go through the rows with practiced repetition

you meet in the middle

your hands both reach out to touch the bar, bringing it down over the laps of two young-looking middle schoolers who are pretending not to be holding hands

one of them giggles as you and jungwoo's fingers brush

the slight pass of skin on skin feels like a burst of electricity

stepping back to wave the group off - jungwoo slips in beside you and asks with a kind of strained sarcasm

"who takes their date on the log flume?"

"i think it's cute."

jungwoo doesn't miss a beat and that's what nearly knocks you backwards

"wanna go with me on our day off?"

jungwoo asks you on a date.

that you're sure off. but why - that's the part that does not click for you.

so is it a friend thing - are the 'we' on this 'date' just two friends running around the water park they work at with the freedom of having to not do their jobs? are the 'we' on this 'date' something completely different?

the nervousness makes you jump when jungwoo meets up with you at the bust stop and he doesn't look or feel any different than usual

you start to accept that your first thought is correct - this is a platonic date - nothing more

until you get to the waterpark and put your things away and jungwoo pulls a small container from his bag

"what's that?"

"you're always taking care of me, i want to take care of you for once too."

he opens it and inside are some lopsided looking cookies

"did you- jungwoo did you bake this?"

he poke his tongue out, but nods

"well, a friend who is a better cook than me helped."

they taste better than you could have imagined, you take a bite and understand that no something is definitely

different

friends don't hold their other friends hand the entire day

friends don't lean into their other friends shoulder while waiting in the line for one of the rides and then biting softly down on the skin, kissing it after like an apologetic kitten

and friends don't kiss their other friends in the dark, shady corner where a line of vending machines have been abandoned behind the pretzel stand

the infamous makeout spot that every water park employee buzzes about

when your date comes to an end and you and jungwoo are waiting for the bus back, you keep touching your lips.

jungwoo tastes like citrus when he kisses

there are some things i don't know about him

you smile to yourself when his pinkie brushes yours and hooks up with it as the bus approaches

i can't wait to learn all of them

it takes the manager exactly forty-eight hours to figure out you and jungwoo are dating.

everyone else in the park gets the memo the minute you two step into the staff room.

there's a little pushback against it, just because there is some stupid company policy, but the manager claps you both on your backs and whispers that whatever - it is summer - kids should have fun during the summer.

maybe the fun means sneaking kisses on lunch breaks, visiting each other on your off days, swapping shifts so you two can arrive and leave together

the fun of having jungwoo nuzzle his wet face into the back of your neck as he complains about work

the fun of having you trace patterns on his arm as you two wait for the bus home

the fun of seeing each other outside of work, sprawling across his bedroom floor and talking about nonsense

the fun of jungwoo's features shifting from languid and sleepy to acute as you shift your weight ontop of him and let your hands flirt with the hem of his shirt

"cover those up jungwoo, we are a family-friendly establishment"

the manager mumbles, motioning to jungwoo's neck with his pen

you thin your lips and jungwoo huffs, slapping a bandage or two on the slightly puffed skin

when the days get a little colder and the droves of families dwindle slowly, you know that your summer job is coming to an end

on your last days, you have back your uniforms and whistles and the manager makes a speech about how much good work has been done and how he's holding back his tears, but he's sure he'll see you next year

jungwoo mutters that you two can't come back here next year - you two should look into summer jobs at the mall or something

your last walk from the park gates to the bus stop home is calm, even a little chilly. jungwoo drapes a hand around your shoulder and pulls you into him for the warmth.

"we never got to go on the log flume together"

you suddenly muse and jungwoo coaxes his mouth into a frown

"you really want to go together on that contraption? it's not even fun."

"it's sentimental to us."

"that's a weird thing to say."

he looks at you and you poke his cheek

"it's an eccentric thing to say."

a number of summers pass until you and jungwoo ever follow up on the notion

actually, the one summer you two end up sitting together on the log flume, is not even at the water park from your memories

it's somewhere abroad

you're on vacation together and jungwoo claims you dragged him onto this thing

but you see the little smile he tries to hide when the bar comes down

the two teenagers working the ride brush their fingers as they do so, catching the look of shyness that passes from one to the other you giggle and take jungwoo's hand in your own

"what's funny?"

he asks and you tell him oh, nothing.

the ride starts and just as the log reaches the end of the dip - you let out a small shout of excitement

jungwoo joins you, but he doesn't just make a sound. he says something.

"i love you!"

oh, i think i like you too - the sweet taste comes back.

"i thin- i know i love you too!"

#shoutout to ONF - Sukhumvit Swimming #nct scenarios #jungwoo scenarios #nct au #jungwoo au #nct imagines #jungwoo imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #jungwoo #nct #nostalgia!au #sfw #water/

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jeongjaebae · 3 years

Text

To the boy I’ve always loved

⇢ Younghoon x reader, 1.3k, fluff fluff fluff, best friends to lovers!!!!!

⇢ Out of the five letters you send to your past crushes, somehow only one makes its way to its recipient.

"There's no response from any of them," you sigh. "Was it too much to expect a reply? Maybe I'm just not likable."

Younghoon nods at your words from where he's walking home by your side but doesn't say anything. He's strangely quiet but it's not unusual since he never seems to be very interested in your love life, often choosing to remain silent or react with very short acknowledgements before changing the subject.

So you had been quite surprised that he was the one to suggest the idea of sending out letters to your past crushes in the first place. And perhaps that had been a big part of the reason you'd actually went ahead with filling pages with nostalgic memories of the past and brief moments in time when there may have been a spark between you and these people. But it wasn't anything too deep as there hadn't been anyone you really had feelings for in the past; you mainly just sent them for the sake of wanting to experience what's it's like being the main character for once in your life.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," Younghoon says slowly. His gaze was trained forward though you knew your best friend well enough to see that there was something on his mind.

"It was just for fun," you shrug. "No harm done if they don't reply, and if they do, we can see how to go from there."

It was definitely nerve-wracking waiting for a response though.

You'd been afraid that it would be awkward in class today since you delivered Juyeon's letter a couple of days ago, however the guy hadn't even spared a glance at you. If anything, it seemed like he hadn't read the letter at all. Maybe that was a good thing because then he wouldn't know about how you'd found him cute since fourth grade and briefly liked him after he helped you up when you'd fallen off the monkey bars. It was a nice memory, even more so when Younghoon had bought you ice cream afterwards.

"Were you hoping any of them would reply?"

"Hmm." You sneak a glance at him to see that his lips are pressed, brows furrowed. "Maybe one of them."

If Sunwoo had read his, there was no indication at all today as he made faces at you in calculus when the teacher wasn't looking. Maybe it was better that he didn't find out your friendly academic rivalry had made you feel some type of way at some point, and that you didn't actually need the hours of study sessions you spent with him. After all, your best friend was already the best study buddy you could have.

"Y/N..."

"Hmm?"

There was no way of knowing whether Hyunjae and Eric read the letters you delivered to them, but it's been a few days and there's only been radio silence as your answer so far.

Younghoon sighs and finally turns to you as the two of you approach his house. "Y/N, it's not you. You're likable, okay? They just... haven't read the letters."

"How would you know that?"

His eyes wander as he hesitates to answer, but you already had a feeling what he was going to say. "Because I—I stole them," he finally says. "The letters. I stole them from their porches before they could be read."

"But you literally told me to send these letters," you say, confused that your best friend would act in such a way. Couldn't he just be supportive of your non-existent love life for once? It seemed like every time you had something borderline romantic going on in your life, he'd be the one to ruin it if it hadn't been already ruined by you first. "So why are you going back on your words now? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I—I didn't want you to get hurt," he says softly. His eyes meet yours briefly before they flicker away. "The suggestion was just a joke anyways; I didn't think you'd actually send them out."

"Younghoon, I'm your best friend, not your little sister. You don't have to protect me from getting hurt. Besides, pain is just part of the experience. How am I supposed to live out this main character life if it doesn't fully encompass all the emotions?"

"You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He reaches into his bag and pulls out the four envelopes with the names written in your neat scrawl. "I only managed to get back four of the five letters though, so you might still get a response from the last person."

You sigh, taking the letters from him and quickly stuffing them in your bag.

Maybe it was a terrible idea after all. Things don't usually turn out like in fictional books and movies anyways, so maybe this was meant to happen to save you from a lifetime of embarrassment. Now that you think about it, you didn't even want to imagine the way Sunwoo would clown you if he ever read your letter.

"No, maybe you're right," you say, "I don't think I'll send these after all... they're too cringe-worthy."

"Really?" Younghoon looks up at you in surprise. "No, Y/N, I really didn't mean to stop you but it's just that I've liked—"

Even if you were avoiding his gaze, you're aware of the exact moment he looks behind you and sees the last white envelope sitting on the sill of his window by the porch. The one with his name written in a font all too familiar as it was identical to the rest of the letters that he's already seen.

"Yeah, um. The four letters that you took were mostly just for fun. The one that you didn't take is the one I was hoping to get a response from the most..." you trail off.

He goes to pick it up carefully and glances at you with wide eyes. There's some surprise there but you could see the ways his face lights up and his body sags with relief as he takes out the letter.

As his eyes skim over the page, you know that he's recalling all of the memories you'd shared over the years. Spending summers at the local playground as kids, awkward middle school dances, how he went from being the same height as you to much taller now. The realization that the reason you couldn't crush on anyone else was because the right one was beside you the entire time.

The other letters are probably crushed when your bag falls to the ground and he's so close as he always is, but it feels different than before. Maybe it's felt different for a while now, but you find yourself wondering when he became so attractive, when his familiar face and presence became something that wasn't familiar at all with the way you felt slightly strange as the butterflies fluttered in your stomach and in your heart.

"You beat me to it," Younghoon says when he looks up. "I was planning on telling you first, but I just didn't know how. Y/N, maybe it was selfish, but this was the reason why I stole your letters. I've liked you for so long and just didn't want to see you falling for someone else."

"Did you not expect a letter? I thought you told me to send them just so that you might get one," you tease. The nervous pounding of your heart shifts into a bud of hope at his words and you can't help the way your lips curl upwards.

"Ah, I was indeed hoping for one but didn't think it would actually happen."

"You don't need to steal letters when you've already stolen my heart."

And when his eyes curve as he smiles and it warms you like the sun on your face, you know that the other letters didn't matter, never mattered when this was the only letter worth sending at all.

#younghoon fic #the boyz fic #the boyz x reader #younghoon fluff #tbz fic #tbz x reader #kim younghoon #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #younghoon x reader #tbz x you #tatb au #just some more writing practice~#ayeee slowly getting back into writing short things #don't @ me for the 16k coming up #my fic

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https-sen · 3 years

Text

Life

Pairing(s): Razor x gn!reader/gn!traveler (and Bennett)

Genre: Angst (and Fluff if u simp for Benny like i do <3)

Warning(s): Cheating (like sleeping together and all that jazz), Very angry reader (you threw a thing to a bush), Cursing [lmk if i missed any]

A/N: i love benny and razor vvv much so i made this :3 but uh lets try this first genshin fic? if this flops i'd continue my suna part 2 (or just 2 diff endings)

!!!THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!

!reminder [ALL genders (including males) are allowed to read my fics <3]

"Stop."

Dead-stuck in your tracks, you sigh before turning around to meet him. Staring down into the teary eyed boy as he mustered his way to you, trying to catch up with your fast pace. "Please, I-I'm sorry! I never meant to kiss her, it was just an accident. A m-misunderstanding!", feeling himself falling into the hole of desperateness. "Razor, I-" "Pups. It's Pups, love.", he cut you off trying to hold your hand while the tears fall down quicker and quicker. Unwrapping his grasp around your wrist (because you tough-tough bestie 😼) making him quiver since he's never seen you so livid. "Razor, I saw the signs. I've heard all the rumours. I've known about him/her (Aether/Lumine). But, being quite foolish and stubborn, I decided to ignore everything. My only remaining question is, why am I so blind!?", throwing your sword aside to rupture 4 bushes (🍃) in rage and frustration making little Razor flinch in fear. "Why was I so fucking happy even if I knew what was going on between you and your new.. new lover..?", crouching your entire body for him to stare at you. You who was trying so hard not to cry. Razor was scared of being left alone and felt terrible you were going to shed tears because... because of him. He began to bawl his eyes out repeating "I'm sorry", "I never meant to" and "Please dont leave me" with sniffles between every single word. Getting up as you wipe your teary eyes once you calmed down, silently glaring at whom who ruined your idea of love. "Let's never meet." as you ran, and ran, and ran not bothering to look back.

Timeskip to 5 months later... (Razors POV and he hasnt met bennett in a year since he went for an adventure with Aether/Lumine to find their twin and they found each other ig 🧚🏻‍♀️)

"Hey, thats my tart!"

"Wait that voice sounded familiar.", running as quickly as I could through the forest, I darted behind a tree as I saw a nostalgic silhouette. "It.. It cant be. Bennett and.. y/n..?" Watching from an oak tree, I saw them kissing his cheek as he playfully nuzzled against their neck. Something.. something we would do. Bennett grabbed the picnic basket for them to carry before walking hand in hand. Something we did.. all the time. "I love you so very much". My heart shattered to pieces once I heard that. The words they would tell me everyday and reminding me.. I was their everything. But I ruined that of course. By sleeping with Aether/Lumine, I ruined their life. For now all I can do.. is watch them have the life.. the life I wished I didnt mess up.

rip those bushes </3 im hoping this doesnt flop like my other angst (if it does istg writersblock finna whoop my ass) and i hope you enjoyed this uh petty angst? i dont have much to say except for helping me out by reblogging, liking and following me if you enjoyed it! Im a small account so it'll be much help ^^ oh, and please gimme asks on whatever tf you want idrc i just need writing material- stay safe, healthy and hydrated! remember dear reader, you are LOVED!! <3

#genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fic #genshin angst #genshin bennett #genshin x you #gender neutral reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader #gn!reader

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 3 years

Note

Congrats! Can I ask for A and C on Rengoku and Reiner please 🤗

I’m so glad you asked for Reiner!! I haven’t written for him yet and I love him so much!! I’m excited to write for him :)) tysm for the request! .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡:+*

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ 🔥 ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

A - Arcade:

Kyo would not be a poor sport at all!! He’d find games really really fun and just be happy that he gets to spend time with you! He wouldn’t understand why someone would get so upset over losing. It’s just a game?? You could win next round??? He just doesn’t understand

“What’s this game?! How do you play it?! AHA! I DIED!!”

In a modern au, I can see Kyojurou not knowing shit about games lolol so he’d learn it all from you if you knew more than him

“A game? About ghosts?? Why would you want to scare yourself like that?”

Games I can see him really enjoying is Mario Kart (or any mario game lol), any fighting game (like street fighter, mortal kombat, ultimate smash bros, etc), Wii Sports, maybe some PC games like Valorant, Minecraft or League of Legends but his knowledge is pretty limited and would depend on the console(s) you have

He’s sound like a parent when he asks you about your games lmao

“Y/N, my dear! Is that the crossing of animals?! How do you win the game?! ....You don’t???”

“Could you pause the game really quick, My Dear? I need your help with something. You can’t pause it? Why not? Isn’t that button usually the pause button?”

He can’t remember titles for the life of him! Making him sound even more like a parent with your games

“Duty That Calls!” “Man of Spiders for the PX4!!” “Thievery of a Grand Auto?! That’s what it’s called, right??” “Redemption of the Dead!” “The Last of Them!!” “Zelda’s Legendary???”

C - Cooking:

Surprisingly an amazing chef!! He cooked a lot for his father and brother so he knows a few tips and tricks that make him an excellent chef

Although, I can see Kyo failing miserably at a recipe he’s never done before. But the second time he makes it, it’s like he was a professional at that recipe for seven years

He’s also willing to explore other cultural foods and learn how to make them, especially if it’s from your culture! He loves to explore new things and learn about them so you opening a new door to all different kinds of foods excites him

“Oh, this is something you always ate as a child? Do you know the ingredients? I’d love to try making it!”

I can also see Kyo being pretty sloppy in the kitchen while he’s cooking. He’s just so in the zone he doesn’t realize he spilled some sugar on the floor, wiped his flour ridden hands on his forehead or knocked over the salt and let it spill all over the counter

But he does a very well clean up afterwards and leaves the place looking like he didn’t just create a mess for two hours straight

He’s always excited to hear your input on is good so that he learn how to improve it and make it taste even better

You guys typically switch on a off with cooking and he loves the way you cook. Even if you fucked up the food a little, he’s still love it because he can feel the secret ingredient of love in the cooking

Even if you’re so terrible that all you can even make is cereal, Kyojurou would literally gobble that shit up as if it’s the most tastiest thing in the world

“You poured me this cereal, Y/N?” *ANSOOQNFIFHAIOWO* “IT TASTES SUPER GOOD!!!” “DELICIOUS! DELICIOUS!!”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ⚔️ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

artwork by: twitter.com/AFpocketbee

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ⚔️ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

A - Arcade

In a modern au, I could totally see Reiner loving games

He got a lot of the consoles when he was a young boy so the older version of consoles are super nostalgic to him

And since he dabbled in a in all the consoles, his range of games is real large so he plays almost any and every game on every console

If you’re not into games, he’ll try his best to get you into it as well so that it’s something you both could share together he just wants to do everything with you 🥺

“Here, Babe, look. This one is easy! All you have to do is aim at the target and shoot. Try it!” you failed miserably “Oh... no no you did good!! Just... keep practicing and you’ll be an expert in no time!!”

And honestly, this guy’s a little bit of a poor sport. Not to a toxic level but enough for it to be kind of cute. If you beat him at one of his favorite games, sheeeeesh he’s gonna pout so much!

“What?? No. You got lucky. That’s not - I - you - ANOTHER ROUND!”

He will literally keep playing you until he wins then turn off the game as if he “doesn’t wanna play anymore”

He would definitely beat you up a lot in a new game you’ve never played before and not even teach you the controls or give you time to learn them. He’d just beat you up.

He’ll get his fill of victory though and then start to teach you and take it slow. He’d even let you beat him a bunch so that you can start getting the hang of it. But once you do, beware. He will not hesitate this time, he’s going all out.

C - Cooking

Oh dear... oh gosh... this man cannot cook. Get him out of the kitchen. Please, he’ll start a fire.

There’s like literally only two things he can cook and that’s French toast and pancakes. Maybe Kraft Mac and cheese.

But he makes some really good French toast and pancakes, he loves making them for you when you wake up

But other than that, he’s so bad. He’d manage to burn the outside of the chicken and the inside be raw

But if he really, really practiced, I think Reiner would end up be a pretty good cook

Now, if you can cook, you can bet your ass this simp would act so extra when he eats your cooking

“It smells SO GOOD!!” “Mmm!! Oh my god!!! BABE!! MMMMMMM!!! MMHHMMMM!!! SSSOOO GOOOODDDD!!!”

“Reiner, stop simping with your mouth full.”

He always looks forward to your cooking and is literally drooling the entire time waiting for it to be cooked. Let’s just say he’ll be a very well fed man because that’s how much he asks for you to cook for him and how much he eats, not even the left overs are safe

#so sorry for getting these out late! I’ve been busy with work lately ^^;;#thanks for being patient with me and I hope you guys enjoy!!#send in more requests!! I’m super happy to get more!!#demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #snk x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #kyojurou x reader

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nagimitsus · 3 years

Text

Title: somewhere along the line

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave.

That is someone I could believe in.

[Read on AO3!]

For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

That is someone I could believe in.

It should come as a surprise, the amount of respect that he has gathered for the bard of melodious voice that makes himself at home only at his tavern. But it doesn’t. Maybe Diluc felt a pang of nuisance at first, when he thought of Venti only as a drunkard with too many stories to tell.

That was before he came to know him. Before the nights when his smile became sad after too many bottles of wine, small and nostalgic and unfitting in such a bright face. Before he understood that there was still a raw wound behind those eyes of his, still bleeding as much as Diluc’s own.

Diluc took the habit of offering him a glass of water and telling him to go home. The sensation of discomfort that nested his chest when Venti smiled up at him and asked what home was he talking about made Diluc wince.

At some point between that and the whole Dvalin situation, he stops asking Venti to go home and starts keeping him company until the silent streets of Mondstadt, illuminated only by the moon and the stars, call back for its bard.

When Venti leaves, his smile is a bit more grateful and a lit less lonely, and Diluc tells him “I hope you find something more rewarding to spend your time on, tomorrow” but thinks See you later.

Venti laughs. It sounds like a breeze. “What’s more rewarding than wine, I wonder?” he says, and has the audacity to wink.

Diluc sighs, because there’s nothing else he can do.

The thing about Venti is that he doesn’t want to be worshipped.

He doesn’t. It’s made clear in the way he behaves, the way he doesn’t stop too much in front of the church unless it’s to perform, the way he talks to the citizens of his country as if they were more friends than subjects. And it’s not because he likes the freedom that comes with anonymity, it’s not because of his own wants or needs.

It’s because he wants them to be free, in this city where there are no tyrants and no gods. This city where they can follow the winds and their hearts alike, bound by nothing but their own ideals.

Diluc protects Mondstadt, fiercely. Because he loves everything it represents and everything it stands for.

And likewise, he protects the god that gifted them all of this.

Venti stops by the Winery of Dawn sometimes. Diluc finds him trying to steal wine or sleeping inside a barrel, and thinks: this is not a deity, this is a raccoon.

Still, because he has a bit of faith left in him and because he used to go to church with his father back in the day, Diluc takes him by the back of his cape and into the house, where he makes sure he’s put to rest in one of their spare rooms, with enough water on his bed table to deal with the hangover.

By the next morning he’s always gone, but the wind blows gently through the open window.

Sometimes, if he’s still sober enough to string a few words together when Diluc takes him in, Venti laughs, and clings to his shoulders with both arms, and says things like “I can sing for you if you desire it, Master Diluc”, with that sweet voice blurry but cheerful.

Diluc sits him down before the fireplace on those occasions, just so he can make sure that Venti drinks enough water and doesn’t do something like throwing up into his own mouth and suffocating on it.

What a troublesome bard, Diluc thinks. The thought is covered in affection anyway, and he has to sigh to himself at that. Venti blinks slowly at him, almost as if he could know what’s crossing his mind just by looking at him, and then he leans in his direction with a drunken smile that makes Diluc roll his eyes.

“You,” Venti says, slowly but with intent, “are a very good person. Do you know that, Master Diluc?”

The reaction is immediate. Diluc can feel it start on his stomach and creep up until his head, his ears, his hands. It’s a fuzzy sentiment that makes home on his chest and purrs like a cat, a reminder of how good it is to be acknowledged.

Diluc looks back at Venti’s eyes, clear even in his state.

When he was young, he wondered how the truly religious felt. He asked Jean once, eleven or so, as little Barbara tried to sign in tone with the croaking of a frog. And Jean, always patient and warm, had said: I don’t think it can be explained.

But it can.

Diluc feels like he’s being hugged by a tornado and cradled by the breeze at the same time. It’s excruciating and infuriating and exhilarating, and it’s making a knot into his stomach, reddening his ears.

He scoffs lightly, but his voice is not unkind when he says:

“And you are very drunk.”

Venti laughs at that, and the sound reverberates in the space of the room.

The only reason Diluc doesn’t leave is because he’s still afraid that Venti will throw up all over himself.

(The traveler comes.

The traveler comes, they fight against Dvalin, and Diluc has to see Venti’s slender form fly across the battlefield when the dragon hits him once. Even when he gets up immediately, smiling through the pain, the knot that he made in Diluc’s stomach twitches and hurts.

He makes sure to tell Barbara that the bard got hurt once they go back to Mondstadt, and ignores the perplexed look that he sends his way.)

Venti doesn’t come to the winery for a few weeks after the Dvalin incident, and they don’t meet up at the tavern either. Diluc would be worried, if he didn’t see him here and there, talking to Kaeya or playing a simple tune for Klee (who he seems to adore, if the warm look in his eyes as the little girl tries to harmonize with him.)

Diluc is not prone to lie to himself, so he doesn’t even try to deny that he misses Venti’s annoying presence. Still, since the traveler left for Liyue, the whole town seems to have subdued, its upbeat attitude turned into a dull sense of longing.

Someone knocks on his door one night, almost sixteen days after he saw Venti for the last time. And of course, as fate would have it, it’s the bard himself who’s waiting at the other side.

Rain is not unusual in Mondstadt, even when they’re accustomed to a gentle drizzle, so most citizens have learned to take an umbrella with them when the spring is creeping on them.

Venti is dripping wet, and there’s something in the way his clothes cling to the line of his shoulders that make him straight up sad, almost pathetic. Still, the gleam on his eyes is a tell-tale that he’s been drinking, and the curve of his smile is too close to loneliness. It stirs something in Diluc, calls for the silent understanding of their nights in the tavern.

He doesn’t say anything, just takes a step to the side to let him in.

The maids will find awfully unpleasant the wetness on the carpet, Diluc’s mind supplies, but it’s difficult to care when Venti smiles like rain and alcohol and apples, all mixed up. His mere presence tends to be intoxicating, with the way he takes so much space with his voice and his laugh and his music, but it’s even worse now. Maybe it’s because Diluc has become unaccustomed to it.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Diluc asks after a few seconds. Venti’s smile is still sad, but it’s there nonetheless.

If this were any other person, the sound of the wind outside might have drowned their words. But Venti has never known how to be quiet, and so Diluc hears him without any trouble:

“You care about me, don’t you, Master Diluc?”

He sighs, and closes the door. The storm becomes a muted sound behind the wood and the steel, and somehow that adds to the intimate atmosphere that this scene carries. Diluc can feel it at his throat, the warning, the threat that comes with the closeness. He talks through it.

“I don’t think you’ve made all the way here just to point out the obvious, bard.”

He turns then, and Venti is still there, looking straight into him. In the pit of his eyes there’s an ancient kind of loneliness that makes him look terribly old. It’s in times like this when it becomes easy to think of him as a god. Again, Diluc thinks of what being religious means, thinks of kissing his temple and his hands until pink and red go back to his skin, thinks of drying his hair and lending him a bed.

That’s not the kind of devotion that a God requires. But for Venti, who would treat the cathedral built in his name just to see Klee smile, who dirties his hands helping Sucrose with her work and runs away from Diona between laughs whenever she gets angry at him, it might be enough.

Venti laughs. The sound is enough to loosen the muscles of Diluc’s tense shoulders.

“I haven’t,” Venti says, and then he turns around and walks into the house as if it belongs to him. Diluc follows, waiting for him to go on. Since he doesn’t, he adds:

“I’m not going to serve you wine here,” just to make sure that’s out of the table.

Venti hums, amused. He goes straight to the fireplace, sticking both hands in front of the flames. Diluc stops just three steps away from him, taking a few seconds to stare at the side of his face, shadows dancing over the curves of his nose, his eyebrows, his neck.

“I lost something important,” Venti says at least, his voice soft, “and my power has decreased drastically.”

Diluc frowns before he can stop himself. Venti looks at him with that same smile that doesn’t suit him, even as he’s winking, probably trying to downplay his own words.

“Worst possible time too, right?”

Diluc would know. The Abyss Order’s activity is still on rise, and the Fatui are getting bolder every passing day. He knows the Knights of Favonious are not good enough to keep them all at bay, not enough to protect all of Mondstadt, bound by the laws and diplomacy and their own duty.

Even so,

“I’m still here,” he reminds him, as if it was obvious. “And Jean will do everything in her power.”

Venti looks at him through the corner of his eye for a second before he’s turning his whole body, hands on his hips. He giggles again, and even though the sound is far off the usual, it doesn’t sound as tense as his last words.

“Are you saying you will protect me, Master Diluc?”

Diluc doesn’t roll his eyes, because he’s not keen on the gesture, but he hopes that the expression on his face is enough to convey his feelings of fond frustration. One can’t be serious with Venti around unless someone is in immediate danger, it seems.

“I am saying that if my actions can bestow some peace upon you, know that I’ll keep protecting Mondstadt.”

Venti takes a step in his direction, then another. When his hands close around Diluc’s white shirt, they leave wet marks that extend through the cloth under his fingers, cold against his skin. The flower on his hat has lost at least two petals in the rain, but his eyes are alive and warm as they look straight into Diluc’s red ones.

He doesn’t feel the need to confess, doesn’t want to kneel down and ask for forgiveness for his sins. But he wants to keep Venti here nonetheless, in the intimacy of the room illuminated only by the flames. Maybe that’s a thought that needs absolution.

“You,” Venti says, very slowly, “are a very good person. Did you know that, Master Diluc?”

He smirks, the little shit. Diluc doesn’t bother to answer this time, because he’s too busy trying to calm down the beating of his heart as Venti gets on his tiptoes, one hand going to his shoulder, the other remaining on his chest.

Diluc leans down into the kiss, and it’s impossible to think of a god when the laugh that he swallows in his own mouth it’s so undeniably Venti.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fic #diluven #dilven #diluc ragnvindr #venti #diluven fic #diluc x venti

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

Text

Pitch Woo

1. old-fashioned To court or seek the affection of someone through romantic gestures or overtures.

Jasonette July prompt 4: game on

Enemies to lovers if you squint

This was supposed to be a throw away prompt that I put no effort into but somehow I ended up putting a lot of energy into it. Please love it

Legal age drinking and questionable song choice

Jasonette July

My masterlist

"Okay and thank you for coming to our Karaoke face off. I'm DJ Carapace and I'll be running the show tonight."

He paused while the crowd cheered.

"For those who haven't been here before, long time patron Marinette has recently been butting heads with Jason who recently returned after a long absence."

Boos came from one section. He didn't recognize them as associated with either of the performers.

"None of that now. Here tonight we love all of our friends the same. The competition tonight is all about the performance. Also giving a performance is Dick back behind the bar. Show him some love and show him the money. Or your money maker. Shake your ass for him. He doesn't discriminate; he loves all asses."

Cheers went up as Dick did a few bottle tossing tricks before Carapace could continue on to explain the rules of the competition. Jason and Marinette start off with a duet chosen by Carapace. He mentioned that they would be singing multiple songs, some that they prepared for and others that would be a surprise before that started. At the end of the singing the voting would be opened up for everyone to choose the winner.

"Starting off with a little magic both singers will show us a Whole New World," Carapace said as he started the music.

"Are you ready for this, Princess? You aren't allowed to magically fall in love with me."

"That should be easy enough. I control all the magic here."

"Do you trust me?"

"Not at all, Street Rat." Marinette said into the mic before he started singing.

She would never admit to anyone how much she loved his voice. It was rich and smooth and he seemed to feel the music as he sang. She put everything she had into her part. This was one of the first songs she learned to sing in English so it was very nostalgic. They both had the same idea when the joined section came up. They turned to face each other and kept eye contact through the last note.

"Well they may be competing but they sound great together too. Next up Marinette chose the song Perfect."

It felt good to start off with a song she knew. Most of them tonight would be a surprise so it was good to start where she was confident. This song worked particularly well because it started soft and then got bolder as it went on. The words were very helpful too. Jason must feel the same way about singing his choice of It's My Life because he was nailing it. The crowd was cheering and Carapace played a Jagged song to give them a break and encourage people to get drinks.

"Alright, bringing us right back into the show Jason and Marinette are going to wow us with the song Senorita."

Both of them were sent shots and drinks during the break. Mostly Marinette wanted water but as the crowd ramped up she and Jason took a shot together for luck. Then Marinette saw the list of songs they were doing and drained her drink quickly. She needed the courage if they were going to put on a show. Putting on the best show is how she would get votes.

Jason didn't feel like he could keep up with her. Her song choices were stellar. He had always loved her range. He had wandered away to take a couple shots to loosen him up. Still when they met back at the stage they took one together before they looked at their set list. He felt a bit better watching her drain her drink after she saw the set list. Maybe it wouldn't be as easy for her as he thought. He allowed the energy of the crowd to flow into him. He could do this. As he watched her start the song, he suddenly remembered how he had actually been interested in Marinette when they first met, but she had gotten very frustrated over something to do with the song choice or order. He couldn’t remember now. It was the first in a long list of times they had butted heads here.

He moved to the beat of the song and started singing. He kept his voice low and sultry and his attention focused on his partner for the evening. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened but the room and the crowd disappeared. It was just him and her looking at each other and singing. She shimmied around to the song and he reached out for her hand, spinning her until she was against him. He leaned over her shoulder and sang the ooh- la-la-la into her mic. He could feel her tense and suck in a breath before she sang her next section. He swayed her back and for and then spun her around. She did her oohs and then he dipped her down and then back up at the last notes of the song.

She was happy that it was his turn next, singing Fields of Gold. She had to catch her breath. She needed to convince herself that it was from the singing and dancing and not from being so close to him. She sipped on her drink and sat on the provided stool as he moved between singing for the audience and serenading her. As the song was at the final repeating line he pulled her back up and sang directly to her. He bent low and kissed her hand as he passed her the mic.

Marinette started singing the song Only Exception and as she did she circled him before guiding him to the stool. His performance was stellar so she needed to start strong and continue through the whole song. As he had she made sure to sing to the audience and not just him. She wandered down from the stage and near the tables to get the most visibility during the instrumental interlude. She sang the part that picked up right to the crowd before turning to him and walking back to him with determination at the ending lines. At the final line she got very close to him to sing directly at him that she was “on her way to believing”

Next they were singing Landslide as a duet. Marinette loved this one. But it was slightly bitter for her. The first time she met Jason she had put the song in but the old DJ XY said he would save it for her for later in the evening. Jason had arrived after that and when her song came up it was him singing it instead of her. He had done really well but the DJ didn’t like to do repeats so she didn’t get her chance to sing. It hadn’t helped that he had come up and used a terrible line on her and laughed at her reaction.

Jason loved this song. He knew she did it really well too. He had heard her sing it once before. It worked great as a duet for them. They were both able to showcase the best of themselves. Carapace was right, they did sound good together. They took turns with the parts and joined in together at the chorus. They addressed the crowd for the beginning of it but part way through she walked slowly up to him as she was singing. He put his mic to the side and met her in the middle. Something about sharing the mic made it feel more intimate. They were no longer looking out. They were looking right at each other. Her eyes closed during one part and he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from reaching up and touching her face. She looked up at him as they sang the last line together, drawing it out.

Carapace gave them another break and played a couple other songs before he would call them back up. Alya was ready with a couple waters and people were basically lined up to buy them drinks and shots. Alya told her she was recording the whole thing and would be posting it after, linking back to both of them so they would probably get a lot more traffic on their pages soon. The break went quickly but Marinette was ready to be done with it. The songs were a little more upbeat so it would feel like it was going faster even though it was more songs. She laughed when she saw the first song. She knew Alya picked that one because she had told her how much she liked it but was always too nervous to sing it.

Marinette took another shot while bantering with Jason to get the crowd invested again at the end of the break. She didn’t hold back. She stalked towards Jason channelling all her sexy energy as she started singing Do Not Disturb. She didn’t turn back to the crowd at all. She moved with the song and sang with everything she had and based on the look on his face, he was eating it up. She dared approach him and slid her hand up his chest before seizing his shirt and pulling him to his feet. He moved right along with her. That is what made him a great opponent. He didn’t want to trip her up and win by default. He wanted her at her best and she felt the same. An even playing field so they could get a good gauge of a winner.

Jason could feel her almost groan when she heard the opening of Give Me Everything start. He had played along with her song and she went all out. Now it was his turn. He was pretty tame. Just serenading her and moving to the beat. He could tell she was expecting more though, she moved easily with him when they got to the line “grab somebody sexy tell them hey”. She was ready for it and matched him move for move. He liked it better this way. They may be competing but he was having a blast. He had the sudden thought when he sang the last line "we might not get tomorrow". He put the microphone under her chin and used it to tilt her face up to his. She stared right up at him perfectly. The natural move would be to lean down and kiss her but he didn't think it would be right complete the move.

"Okay guys get ready to vote after this last number here. Their grand finale and then we can go back to your regularly scheduled karaoke until we announce a winner."

Marinette and Jason both took drinks and readied themselves to sing. Jason started out the song Shallow. He didn't bother with the audience. The song was designed as a romantic duet and he loved watching her eyes widen slightly as she looked up at him. He dropped his hand when he finished but during her verse she moved up to him and places her hands on his chest. At the end of that verse she patted his chest before turning to the crowd for the bridge. They came back together to sing the chorus. Without thinking, they moved closer at the end. They were right next to each other and sharing a mic again. He pulled her close to his as the song ended and the crowd cheered. He turned off the mic before asking his next question.

"Are we gonna make the ending a show stopper?"

"I'm already doing that. Try to keep up."

She smirked at him. He spun her around and dipped her low. His face was right in front of hers as he whispered. She could feel his breath by her chin.

"The audience would love a finale. If you think you can handle it."

"I can handle anything you can. Game on." She said.

He was pulling her back to her feet out of the dip. Their eyes never strayed from each other's. As her feet touched the floor, she grasped his collar. He met her halfway pulling her against him. Their lips met as the crowd cheered again. It was meant to be a momentary thing. For the audience. They had both done it for show. But the surge they felt as they kissed was not just because of the crowd. They pulled back but felt the loss even as they stood in each other's arms under the shining lights.

DJ Carapace was announcing how to complete the voting but Marinette couldn't hear anything over the heartbeat thumping in her ears. Maybe Jason felt the same because he guided her back behind the makeshift curtain of the stage. He planted his back against the wall and pulled her flush against him. She didn't expect to crash against him so suddenly but she used the momentum to pull herself to him and resume kissing.

They could find out who won later.

Tags

#jasonette july 2021 #maribat #jasonette july #jasonette #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #boldlyanxious

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

The city he had chosen to stay in was terrible.

It was noisy, it was crowdy, and the constant heat was making Levi go insane.

And while the city’s loudness and the amount of people in it made it easier for him to blend in, get lost in plain sight and all that bullshit, the heat— the fucking heat, gods, it was killing him.

Levi didn’t like cold weather, despised all the layer of clothes he had to put on just to get to the nearest supermarket and buy instant noodles, he hated the snow with passion he carried since his childhood, he thought that winter was the worst season of them all.

Oh, how wrong he was.

The heat was making his skin crawl. Even in just tank top and shorts, he felt too hot. Drinking cold water, taking cold showers, none of it helped. Levi turned the air conditioning in his room on maximum, but the motel he was staying at was shitty, his room was shitty, and, as a result, the air conditioning was shitty too.

Levi was sick of it. His skin was constantly clammy and sticky, he couldn’t sleep at night, there was never enough air around him, and walking around the city during the daytime made him seriously consider whether he was actually a vampire.

The sun… could it really burn so much? It didn’t used to be so unbearable before.

But apart from that… Levi was starting to accommodate to his new life.

Leaving his hometown behind, he decided to let go of his previous habits too. He got himself a job - not a respectable, but at least an honest one.

Being a janitor in a shitty bar after spending most of his life as a thief was almost… therapeutic.

The vomit on the walls and piss on the floors were enraging him to the point of seeing red and sometimes he wanted to break a leg of every asshole who didn’t know when they had enough and went to make a mess in the toilet, but… working there was therapeutic nevertheless. And a definite improvement too.

At least, his life wasn’t in danger anymore and he didn’t have to run away from police.

Although, he wouldn’t mind running away from a certain police officer. Perhaps, this time he would let her catch him. Perhaps, then his heart would stop clenching in pain every time he thought about Hange.

Perhaps, then he’d be able to let go.

He tried letting go, forgetting about Hange, just as he tried to put behind his life of crime. Unfortunately, putting Hange behind proved to be that much harder.

Some nights, when the heat was especially bad, he felt especially lonely and the shitty whiskey at the shitty bar he was working at didn’t do the trick, he’d snuck a look at how Hange was doing. He’d open his phone, scroll through a news feed. If he’d get lucky, there would a recording of some press conference with Hange at the center of it all.

Apparently, she was doing well. Her shoulder was almost healed, although sometimes she still winced, when gesticulating too frantically. But the paleness in her face that was present when he had visited her at the hospital was long gone, and at the few press conferences that allowed Levi to catch a glimpse of her, Hange’s cheeks were adorned by healthy, rosy blush. Her hair was just as wild, just as messy, and her voice carried the same inspiring conviction.

Whether Hange found out the truth about him or not, he didn’t know, but she had moved past Ackermans’ case and during the time Levi was getting used to his new life she alredy solved two robberies.

She was working on a new case now, something about a young girl who had mysteriously vanished. Levi didn’t bother to find out the details, the name Krista Lenz meant nothing to him, but nevertheless, he wished that Hange would succeed. She deserved that, her quick wit and determination were meant to be recognized and celebrated.

That bright, happy smile on her face, the one she was sporting during the conference that discussed one of the solved robberies, it suited Hange so much. Levi wished she’d wear it more often.

He wished he’d see it more often, but well… some things just weren’t meant to be.

Strangely so, Kenny didn’t contact him even once. No obnoxious phone call, no mysterious messages or weird gifts. There was no sign of him for almost two months, and Levi would have started worrying, would have tried to contact the man himself, if… if Kenny wasn’t Kenny.

His uncle was like a cockroach, Levi was one hundred percent sure that nothing and no one could cause him any harm. And if there was someone who actually could do this, Kenny would have harmed them back, ten times worse.

Still, the thoughts about Kenny lingered at the back of his mind, and memories about Hange did the same irritating thing. It made Levi feel awfully nostalgic sometimes, borderline melancholic. And fairly quickly he found out there was nothing he could do about it. No amount of whiskey or dirty toilets could chase that sadness away. That sadness was a new part of his new life.

Maybe, it was better than always living on the edge.

Luckily, he didn’t feel so lonely all the time, his colleagues at the bar made sure of that.

And while his boss, a bald, gross man called Shadis definitely wasn’t a joy to have around, two others – a barmaid named Sasha and waiter Connie were so much better.

They were annoying in their own right, of course. Sasha had a weird obsession with food, Connie’s sense of humor left much to be desired, and together both of them were so damn loud, but for brats who barely stepped into adulthood, they provided a fairly enjoyable company.

They let Levi take his mind off certain things, and they kept him from falling into the abyss of loneliness and depression.

They also opened up the side of him that Levi wasn’t even aware of.

Connie had once mentioned in a passing that his mother had died years ago, and whatever happened to Sasha’s family, she wasn’t living with them anymore, sharing a small flat with Connie and another guy, Jean.

In Levi’s humble, unbiased opinion, Jean was a self-centered, pompous jerk. He wasn’t working in the bar with his two friends, and instead had involved himself in some shady shit with a local gang, which apparently terrified the whole neighborhood. Levi wanted to tell the boy that he was a fucking idiot, if he thought that messing with criminals was a good idea, but he doubted that Jean would listen. Luckily, Jean wasn’t around too often and visited the bar only, when he was miserable about some girl he had a crush on, or whenever he wished to get drunk for free.

It was a good thing that Levi barely interacted with Jean. The boy was so annoying. And also – too damn tall.

He didn’t hear about any other friends of theirs, and as far as Levi was aware, there was no actual adult watching over Sasha and Connie, so… he kinda, unwillingly, of course, took that task upon himself.

Obviously, he made sure to remain discreet. He didn’t want the brats to know that he cared, because he didn’t, naturally.

He claimed that he simply cooked too much food and the leftovers would go to waste, if he didn’t give them away, when he brought them pasta or soup. He mentioned his insomnia and pretended that long walks helped him sleep better, when Sasha and Connie went home after midnight. He lied about having experience in bartending when Sasha got stomach flu. He said that he was just accidentally passing by their apartment, when later that day he visited to check on her.

The brats were too dense to notice his subtle attempts anyway, or so Levi hoped. They had never brought it up, and that had to mean something, right?

And that time when Connie tried to fix Levi’s air conditioning, or when Sasha brought a whole jar of his favorite tea, or all those evenings when he felt blue and homesick and they helped him clean the bar and took him out to dinner, surely it was nothing more than a coincidence.

The brats had their moments, Levi had to admit, and sometimes their presence was almost pleasant.

But sometimes they made him wish they shut their mouths and never opened them again.

Right now, that desire was more prevalent than ever.

“Say, Mister Levi,” Levi hated when they called him that, it made him sound even older than he actually was. He told them to stop it, many times. But the brats didn’t care. He slowly raised his eyes to show that he was listening. As soon as he did, Sasha put a fist underneath her chin, forgetting about the important task of cleaning the glasses to stare at him curiously. “Do you have someone?”

“Someone?” he had an inkling of what Sasha was asking him about, but he didn’t wish to discuss that with the damned brats. He didn’t wish to discuss that topic with no one, ever. Because… there was nothing to discuss.

“Yep, someone!” Connie chimed in. “Like, hm, a significant other?”

“A beloved!” Sasha agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

Levi felt the migraine coming. “I don’t have any kind of someone,” he gritted. “And I never did.”

“Really?” Sasha tilted her head to the side, looking so skeptical that Levi was ready to get offended. Was he not convincing enough? “I thought you do. It’s just that sometimes—”

“When you think no one is looking!” Connie swiftly added.

“Your face seems so much softer, and your scowl almost disappears, and you look—”

“Just like Jean when he thinks about Mikasa.”

Who the fuck was Mikasa? And what face was Jean making? Levi couldn’t be making the same one, could he?

“But if you say there is no one,” Sasha sighed, returning to her task of cleaning glasses. Wearing the same sad face as she did, Connie went back to gathering dishes from the tables. “Then I guess we’re wrong.”

Damn right, they were. There was no one, and whatever face they thought he was making, it couldn’t possibly be related to a certain police officer from the other side of the world.

“And if there is no one you have to think about,” Sasha winked, like she was seeing right through him. “Then let me make you a drink. It’s a new recipe I found, it involves tequila, vodka and—”

Levi raised a hand to cut her off. “Just surprise me.”

Sasha nodded and went to work. She frequently let Levi taste her new cocktails. He was the perfect man for it – he didn’t get drunk too fast, and he was the only Sasha’s friend who tasted something better than cheap whiskey or a beer from a local supermarket. He also never shied away from telling her when the drink was fucking awful.

Sasha hummed as she mixed the drink, some song Levi vaguely recognized from the radio. She was smiling too, she did that frequently, and something about her, be it the ponytail that jumped up and down when she was excited, or her easy-going, cheerful personality reminded him of Hange.

These days, lots of things reminded him about Hange. There were days when almost everything reminded him of Hange. It seemed like today was exactly a day like that.

“You’re making that same face again,” Sasha whispered, as she handed him the drink.

Levi scowled, glaring at the girl, as he put the glass up to his lips. He finished it in one go. “It tastes like shit,” he told her. “Put it on the menu.”

Sasha beamed, refilling his glass. “Knew you’d like it.”

“By the way, boss,” Levi wasn’t their boss, as far as he was aware, their actual boss was getting drunk in his office, all the while mumbling incomprehensible gibberish about some Carla. But Levi had to admit, being called boss was so much better than the godforsaken mister Levi. "Are you free tonight?"

Levi was free every day and every night, when he wasn’t working in the bar with Connie and Sasha. It wasn’t like he had any friends or even acquaintances beside two brats. However, saying it out loud would make him look even more pathetic that he actually was. So Levi shrugged, and said, as nonchalantly as possible, “Depends.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” Connie asked, looking at him with a smile so hopeful that Levi was ready to say yes right that instant. God, they already had him wrapped around their fingers. How embarrassing. At least, Kenny wasn’t here to witness it. He’d have a laugh of his life, if he found that Levi was adopted by two teenagers. “Jean is away on a trip, so we’d be glad to have some company.”

“He went to see his family?”

From the way Sasha bit her lip and Connie refused to meet his eye, Levi knew – their friend didn’t go on a simple trip. He sighed, taking a sip from his glass and letting the bitter liquid burn his throat. Admittedly, it was none of his business. He shouldn’t care about it, he wasn’t their father, for god’s sake. But… a friendly piece of advice wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Your friend plays with fire. And if he continues doing so—”

“Jean knows what he is doing,” Connie crossed hands on his chest defensively. “He is smart.”

Levi couldn’t help but scoff. “Just being smart is not enough. There will always be someone smarter.”

“Jean knows what he is doing,” Connie repeated stubbornly. “He’ll be fine.”

Maybe, he will, maybe, he won’t. At the end of the day, Levi had no say about it. He might call them brats, but they were already adults. They were allowed to do as they wished. They were bound to make some mistakes.

“Tell him to be more careful. Otherwise, you’ll suffer too.”

Levi left it at that, not wanting to antagonize Sasha and Connie any further. Besides, it was time to open the bar, or the drunkards all across the block would start banging on their doors. Worse than that, Shadis might come out of his office too. His sour face was the last thing Levi wished to see.

“Let’s get to work,” he nodded to the kids, and took his drink to the dark corner of the room, where he usually spend his shifts, waiting until the patrons start making a mess he’d have to clean.

Surprisingly, the evening came and went, but there was no mess for him to deal with. No one vomited, no one shitted all over the toilets. No one spilled their beer on the floor, or even a table. Were their patrons starting to learn how act like people, and not pigs? Or were they so well-behaved because it was just the beginning of a week? Or did the heat finally get to them and turn them just as slow and tired as Levi himself felt?

However, the weather was more merciful that day. The temperature was still high, too high for Levi’s taste, but just after the sunset the wind was starting to pick up, the storm slowly brewing. During the smoke break outside the bar, Levi could see the lightening, illuminating the far edge of the sky. The rain was in the air, and he allowed his lips to curl up in a pleased smile. Perhaps, he’d finally be able to sleep through the whole night and not toss and turn, feeling like the bed turned into a scorching pan.

When he went back inside, the bar was almost empty, just a few regulars left, nursing their half-finished drinks.

“Do you want to have pizza or sushi?” Sasha asked, as he started sweeping the floor. “We can order both if you wish.”

Levi rolled his eyes with a disgusted tsk. “Eating so much takeout is unhealthy. Let’s finish here and go to supermarket. I’ll cook you something decent.”

Connie yelled a loud yahoo, while Sasha squeezed him in a suffocating hug. The heartwarming moment was cut short, when the door to the bar was thrown open with a loud bang.

It let inside the gush of wind and drops of freezing rain. With a broom still in his hands, Levi turned sharply to the door, ready to rip the unlucky drunkard a new one, the bar had closed almost an hour ago, the sign was right there for everyone to see.

All harsh words died on the way between his throat and his tongue. Levi froze on the spot, and in the silence that followed the lightning strike was as sudden as a gunshot.

Sasha’s distressed cry and Connie’s shocked sob put him out of the stupor.

Throwing the broom away, Levi moved, catching the falling, bloodied boy into his arms.

“Jean!” Sasha was the first one of the two to snap out of it. She ran to Levi, with trembling hands lifting up her friend’s face.

“What the fuck had happened?” Connie kneeled next to them, his eyes wide and scared as he stared at Jean.

Jean looked awful, there was no way around it. His cheeks and jaw were bruised, his right eye was already swollen, and his light brown hair had too much red in it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, too weak and injured to offer something more than a shaking whisper. “I’m sorry, I’ve fucked up, I didn’t know where to run and now they’re coming here, I didn’t mean to do this, I didn’t think, I—”

He could continue that nonessential ramble for the rest of the night. But if they, whoever those they were, were truly coming, Jean and his friends didn’t have that much time. Carefully, Levi lifted Jean’s arm, wincing when he saw that the boy’s shirt was bloodied too, and threw it over Connie’s shoulder. Then he took the key from the back pocket of his shorts and thrusted it into Sasha’s palm.

“Take him to my room in the motel.”

“And you?”

Levi pushed the hair away from his face, already hating himself for his next words. Kenny was right, he cared too much, and it was his biggest weakness, one that would probably get him killed one day. Perhaps, that day had already arrived.

“I’ll stay here and buy you some time.”

“No!” Jean protested, frantically grabbing Levi by the elbow. “It’s my fuck up, you shouldn’t get involved, you don’t know—”

“I do know. And unlike you, I can actually take care of myself.”

Perhaps, he was too harsh, but it was necessary. Jean had fucked up, and whatever he had done, he had to own that mistake and learn from it. That was the only way he would survive through another one of his mistakes.

“Hurry up,” he told Sasha and Connie. “I’ll meet you as soon as I’m finished.”

Thankfully, they didn’t try to argue. Connie wished him luck and Sasha made him promise to come back, and that was it.

As soon as they had left, Levi hopped behind the bar counter to pour himself a shot of whiskey. He lighted up a cigarette, waiting for the front door to swing open and Jean’s persecutors to arrive. Hopefully, they’d do it without guns blazing.

He was just finishing the first glass and was thinking of getting himself a second one, when the mighty kick almost as loud as the thunder outside pushed the door open. Three men tumbled inside a second later, their faces transformed by fury into caricature masks.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” roared one in the middle, their leader, Levi assumed.

Levi was in no hurry to answer. He took the last drag of the cigarette, meticulously put it down against the surface of an ashtray. Then looked at the men in front of him. “The bar is closed. There is no one here but me.”

“Stop fucking with us!” the asshole on the left shouted. “We saw him run inside!”

“If that fucker isn’t here, perhaps we should look around for his friends,” the third man offered. “I know they’re working here.”

So there was no way around it? Levi sighed, walking from beyond the counter. “Just so you know,” approaching the men, he cracked his knuckles. “I don’t condone violence.”

One of the thugs started laughing, the other two immediately followed. Levi didn’t expect any other reaction. The men were burly, large, they definitely weren’t smart.

“What are you going to do to us, midget? Do you seriously think you can beat us up?”

The insult was followed by a punch, a careless, blundering one. Levi effortlessly dodged it, delivering a vicious kick to the stomach of his attacker. The man - who upon the close inspection had yellow teeth and reeked of cheap alcohol – staggered. He caught himself at the last second, holding onto nearest table with white-knuckled desperation. Levi hit again, this time with his knee. With a gasp that turned into a groan, the man fell onto the ground.

Luckily, he stayed there, and Levi turned his attention to the other two.

The one who stood at the left attacked instantly, aiming his enormous fist at Levi’s jaw. There was an unfinished bottle of whiskey on the counter right behind him, and Levi grabbed it, smashing it against the man’s head. The resulting sound was loud, almost deafening. Levi tried to forget about the mess of spilled whiskey on the floor and let himself enjoy that pleasant sound for another moment.

That was a slight miscalculation on his part, because the last man apparently was armed with knife, and he swung it without hesitation. Levi jumped to the side, but wasn’t quick enough. The knife’s edge kissed his cheek, leaving a smear of blood behind it. A mere second later, the knife was in the air once again. Levi was ready for it this time, but as he prepared to take a swift step back, his ankle refused to budge. He looked down to see that one of the defeated men was back in the game, still laying on a floor, but holding Levi in one place. Levi quickly dealt with him, using another leg to kick the man’s head. It took him no more than a moment, but it was enough for him to lose sight of his last attacker. Whatever plan of retaliation Levi had, he lost it, when the knife embedded in his forearm, making him hiss and cuss. Irritated, he roughly grabbed the hand that held the knife, twisting the arm at the wrist.

There was a loud crack, then the even louder scream.

Not too elegant, but, at least, it did the job.

Yanking the knife out of his arm, Levi threw it away, allowing it to clutter on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of here!” he snarled at the men, who weren’t laughing anymore. On the contrary, their faces were panicked, frightened. They pathetically scrambled to their feet, pushing each other to get outside as fast as possible. “And don’t come back!” Levi shouted to their backs.

When the door fell closed, Levi slumped back against the counter. The spot on his cheek was tingling unpleasantly, his arm was hurting like a bitch, and the whole bar had turned into a mess – the shards of glass and spilled whiskey were all over the floor. The blood from his arm was creating a small puddle too.

Levi viciously cursed and grabbed a towel, making a make-shift bandage. It had to do for the time being.

One mess was dealt with, and now another was awaiting him. He’d be lucky if the dirty floor would be the biggest of his troubles tonight.

But somehow, Levi knew that it was just the beginning.

***

Levi never considered himself to be a philosophic kind of person, he never pondered on the meaning of things, never felt the desire to look at the problem at hand from all possible angles, never reflected on his feelings and emotions.

He did however notice that the small room he had rented in a shitty motel at the edge of the city never felt to him like home. It was a place to live, it had a bed to sleep, it held some of his belongings, but it wasn’t a home, it didn’t provoke in him the feeling of belonging that he found inside the walls of his and Kenny’s old apartment.

He spent a little more than two months, living in that shithole, and never once he thought – I’m home, never once he felt – I belong right here.

But something very similar was blooming in his chest, when he passed the threshold of his shitty motel room and fell right into the arms of Connie and Sasha.

Sasha started cleaning his wounds right away, while Connie rushed to get the new bandages for his bloodied arm.

“You should have been more careful,” Sasha chided, and, fuck, he really got adopted by a couple of kids just like that.

“We could have dealt with this ourselves,” Connie said, and then, after a little pause, added, “Probably.”

Levi hummed and resisted the urge to ruffle the hair on their heads. He didn’t have that much affection for the little shits. Probably.

Just as they finished, Jean appeared, unsteadily walking out of the bathroom. He stopped not long after, leaning against the doorframe. Patched up and cleaned, he still didn’t look like his usual, confident and complacent self. Now he reminded Levi of a puppy who was thoroughly and viciously kicked. His hair was now clean of blood, but the shirt was still covered in red patches. Levi would have offered him one of his own t-shirts, but… on Jean’s lanky body it’d look more like a crop top. Or a child’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Jean murmured, not meeting Levi’s eyes. “I didn’t know it’d lead to this.”

Yeah, they almost never know. Levi sighed, there was no point in scolding boy any further. He had realized his fuck up already, his buddies from the gang made sure of that.

“What the hell happened?” Levi asked, his back turned to Jean, as he went to prepare the tea for all of them. It would help to soothe some of Jean’s injuries, and it would also help to relieve Levi of the building tension in his shoulders.

“I… wasn’t quite ready for this life, I guess,” Jean sat down on a bed, covering his face with hands. “There is a guy I’ve been working with, he stole some drugs he was supposed to sell, and other gang members found out and decided to punish him, make an example out of him, but that guy… he was my friend, sort of? We hanged out a lot, and I just couldn’t see him get hurt like that…”

“Oh my god!” Sasha’s hands flew to her face and her mouth opened wide. “Did you get beat up because you tried to protect Marco?”

Connie snorted. “I see you’re getting over Mikasa pretty quickly.”

Behind his hands, Jean’s face started to gain color. “I just helped a guy out.”

“And didn’t even ask for a kiss after the heroic rescue?” Sasha teased.

“There wasn’t much time for kisses after the whole gang started running after us.”

“You poor thing,” Connie patted Jean’s head, sharing a mischievous look with Sasha. “Didn’t even get a kiss for all the trouble.”

The two boys started to bicker, and Levi watched the scene, feeling the pounding inside his head increase. It’d be a long, long night. The one he’d have to spend sleeping on a floor, because there were three brats in his room and only one queen-sized bed.

He raised a hand, putting a stop to the argument that was starting to raise in volume.

“Is the other guy alright?” he asked Jean, as he handed him a cup, filled with steaming tea.

Jean accepted the drink with a grateful nod, but didn’t answer the question right away, staring inside the cup thoughtfully. “He managed to get out of the city. The assholes that beat me up caught me just after he got on a bus.”

Well, that was certainly good news. The only one they received since the beginning of this evening.

“You have to run away too, preferably for quite some time. Those guys won’t forget about you so easily. Do you have a place where you can hide?”

“Well…” frowning, Jean rubbed his neck, “My parents have a summer house…”

“Excellent, does anyone know about it?”

“No, not even these idiots,” Jean answered, pointing at Sasha and Connie.

“Then take these idiots, because your gangster pals know, where all of you live and work,” Levi grumbled. “And get out of here first thing in the morning. Spend a few months in the countryside, wait until this shitty storm is over.”

“And what about you? Now they know about you too.”

What about him… good question. And a very easy one to answer. He’d have to change cities again, luckily, he already had some experience with that. Sure, it was an inconvenience, but… better than live his life and have to constantly look over his shoulder, or die in some dirty alleyway. Perhaps, he’d be able to return some day, when the tensions were long over.

“I’ll leave the city,” he told them. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You had to run away before?” Connie asked, awe written all over his face. “So cool!”

“And you beat up all these guys for us!” Sasha agreed, adoration shining in her gaze.

“You aren’t just a janitor, eh?” Jean stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Levi saved from answering by a loud shrill of the phone.

Everyone in the room tensed, Levi felt his heart pounding inside his chest, a relentless boom, boom, boom. He wet his lips, his throat suddenly too dry, and stood up.

“No!” Jean grabbed his arm, stopping Levi from picking up the phone. Levi understood his panic, it was the middle of the night, who in their right mind would call him at this time? Who would call him period, all the people Levi knew in this city were sitting next to him. Unless, it was Shadis who got out of his drunken stupor and decided to have a friendly chat with a janitor from his bar?

And if it wasn’t Shadis, then…

Acutely feeling his every heartbeat, Levi pulled his arm out of Jean’s grasp. Swallowing that persisting lump inside his throat down, he put his hand on a phone handle. Slowly, holding in his breath, he lifted the phone and put it to his ear.

“Is your name even Levi? Or was that another lie, you asshole?”

That voice. Her voice. Levi helplessly fell back in the armchair behind him.

“H-hange?” the crack in his voice was heard and analyzed by a bunch of kids, who now all stood beside him. Levi waved them away, drowning out the intrigued murmuring, and focused on a person on the other side of the line.

“You still remember my name, I’m flattered, Ackerman,” ah, so she found out. Not surprising in the slightest, but disappointing nevertheless. But how did she find out? And when? And why she was calling now? And how she managed to obtain the number of a motel he was staying at? So many questions, Levi wanted to ask them all at once. He didn’t even know where to start. “And just a piece of friendly advice, next time you go into hiding, don’t go around asking police officers on a date.”

Well, that was one question answered. Only one hundred remained.

“Are you going to arrest me now?”

“No, unfortunately,” Hange bitterly replied. “I need you, Ackerman. For work,” she added, before Levi could get any ideas and just before his heart started racing like crazy. “Take the first flight back to city, if you don’t want me to drag you out of there by force. I’ll be waiting for you in the airport.”

Hange was going to end the call, Levi could practically see her finger hover over the button. Before she did, he cried out, “Wait!” and then, much more calmly he added, “What do you need me for?”

“Your uncle went missing. I need you to help me find him.”

The line went dead immediately after that. It took Levi another moment to pull himself together.

Kenny was… missing? Kenny, his ruthless, unstoppable uncle? And Hange was looking for him? Too much was unknown, too much was unclear, too much was yet to be explained.

One thing for sure, he wouldn’t find the answers here. Well, one problem was solved then, he didn’t have to change cities anymore. He’d just have to return home.

“So.”

Just a short word, but so much meaning was put in it. With a feeling of dread, Levi turned to face Sasha. He shuddered at the sight of her wide, shit-eating smile.

“Hange, hm?” she asked, twirling a lock of hair.

“Hange is your someone, right?” Connie excitedly exclaimed. “Your Mikasa?”

“Hange is his Marco,” Sasha corrected, earning a vicious curse and a middle finger from Jean. “I guess it’s all over with Mikasa.”

It was all over with Hange too. There was nothing with Hange to begin with. And there would be nothing, because apparently she hated him now. For a good reason too.

Fuck. Kenny, Hange, the brats, they all caused Levi a massive headache. And there was no running away from it, they’d find him whenever he ran.

Perhaps, it meant that he had to stop running. And come back home.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he told the kids. “A long journey is ahead of you. And ahead of me too.”

“You’re leaving? To your Hange?”

“Hange is not my someone, I’m just leaving,” Levi grunted, turning off the light. “Go to sleep before I knock you all out.”

Thankfully, they listened and got on a bed without a word of complain.

“It’s good that your Hange found you,” Sasha mumbled, already sleepy. “Maybe, now you won’t be so sad anymore.”

Sasha seemed to fall asleep immediately after, not waiting for Levi’s answer. Or, perhaps, she wasn’t interested in it.

Soon Connie was out as well, and even Jean, after a few of tosses, turns and more than a dozen pained groans managed to settle in comfortably and fall into deep slumber.

Levi didn’t get so lucky, the thoughts about what tomorrow would bring swirling in his mind and keeping him awake.

But, well… at least his melancholy and homesickness wouldn’t be a problem anymore. After two months of being away, he was going home at last.

Strangely, the prospect didn’t seem that thrilling.

#remember when i said that sasha and connie are my literal favorites? yeah it's a chapter dedicated to that #levihan

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