#it is always ok to bother me with questions and statements

[jobean12-blog]

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”

[spectral-devotee]

Spring will come

Original prompts by @ stmarchmm Crossposted to AO3

Day 01: Courting Rituals Summary: It seems you have a secret admirer

For the seventh time that week you found an, admittedly small, pie on your designated desk in Viktor’s lab.

It had found its way to the center of your workspace, right over the sketches you had been working on the prior day. This time the filling was blueberry and cream cheese. Weird, usually you received the strawberry and white chocolate pie in the morning, and the blueberry one in the afternoon.

You pulled off the ribbon and, as always, it smelled divine.

The pastry came inside a pink little paper box decorated with a big red ribbon and the bakery’s signature ornate design. Kind of flashy, but beautiful nonetheless.

The first time it happened, you thought one of Jayce’s secret admirers had left it there for him to find. You took a few steps closer to inspect the item and noticed a small card attached to the box with a twine string.

It read only your name. No signature, no name, no return address.

The second time it happened —that same day in the afternoon may you add— you noticed the only difference, aside from the filling, was the note attached to it. In the evening the note would have a heart drawn with blue ink and nothing more, almost as if expecting you to know it was yours.

This continued for the next two days. You tried arriving early at the lab, but your attempts had been proven futile for the pastry was always there with no trace of the person who delivered it.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate it, really, you are actually very thankful for the gesture as it had saved you from going hungry when your schedule didn’t allow you leisure time to go for a bite at the school’s cafeteria… but who’s leaving the small pastries there?

They were clearly there for you, yet you were not sure of the intention behind it.

So far you had ruled out any of your friends in school, the students you would tutor from time to time, and any gifts from people who wanted your favor regarding the new gallery you were working on.

If not any of them, who?

“Hey, Eda!” Jayce called over to you from the doorway “Huh. What’s got you moping?”

“I’m not-” You started, but his knowing gaze got through your defenses “Ok, you got me…” You raised the little box for him to see.

“I have been getting these” You shook it gently for emphasis “for the past few days and… I don’t know… They are a little…”

He seemed to react to that statement “Huh... Did you not like the strawberry filling or…?”

“Oh, no. No, it’s not that. I actually love them, they are very thoughtful gifts. I’ve always liked both blueberries and strawberries.” You noticed a slight change in his posture at that, but you continued “It’s just that I just have no clue on who’s sending them or why. I would at least like to say thank you, if anything”

“What do you mean ‘blueberries’?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew better. Jayce was hiding something. You eyed him for a second, but thought nothing of it.

You opted to keep his reaction in mind for the time being.

“Oh, well, yeah. In the mornings I usually get the strawberry pies, and then, in the evenings I get the blueberry ones. Weirdly enough I got the blueberry one early today, I think there may have been a mix up…” You thought for a moment “I’m sure my sugar levels are off the roof, but they are just too delicious to ignore, specially when I’m hungry”

His serious expression did not change before speaking again “I see. I uh… have to go. I’ll see you later” Jayce made a rush for the hallway, not even bothering to look back.

Now alone with your thoughts you were left with only one question: how did he know about the strawberry filling before you even mentioned it?

…

The day came and went in a rush. You had only managed to push out one floor plan of the general layout of the new and improved Hexgate design before lunchtime. You sighed when the prospect of having to stay after hours again for the complete master plan came to your mind.

Only a few more weeks before Progress Day and, with that, the first real step towards Hextech being a reality.

The three of you were hard at work. You were in charge of the entirety of the building and surrounding areas, at least on a preliminary level. Jayce was still deciphering some of the more complicated runes and their effects, a key piece to make the nucleus work as anticipated.

Meanwhile Viktor should be working on a few other things to make that same nucleus more stable. Namely, working on the capsule that would contain and send direct commands to it.

A crash and the subsequent mutterings in a foreign language probed you right. He must be getting tired, the last time you saw him leave his workstation was early in the morning, most likely to get another kettle full of coffee “for maximum efficiency” during work hours.

You took a final glance at the drawings and structural plans spread on your desk and decided to check up on him, if only to take your mind off things for a moment.

As you approached his side, you noticed Viktor correcting his posture, quickly straightening his back and putting his work aside for a moment.

“Hey Vik—” Before you could muster up a cordial greeting or to ask what he was working on, he immediately welcomed you “Eda, what a wonderful surprise seeing you here. The pleasure is all mine, yes, yes. What can I do for you?” You didn’t miss him grabbing something off the side of his table and putting it aside.

“Uhmm… I was actually here to check up on y— on how things are going around here, haha” You did your best to disguise your concern about his health habits. Thankfully he paid no mind to your slip up and he promptly turned to show you how his latest advancement was going.

His excitement was somewhat contagious as you found yourself fascinated by both his work and his way of explaining the intricacies of it.

You spent a few minutes talking about the advances towards the final design of the Hexgates and how many square meters would be needed to fit the entirety of the mechanism he and Jayce were working on. It was bigger than any of you had expected at first.

The first sketches depicted a small nucleus the size of a train motor (if that can even be called small), but more recent schemes show that you’d need to build a whole tower to fit every component needed to meet the city’s minimum requirements. There would be a lot to work on for the next few years, to say the least.

That is if you managed to win the Innovators Competition, and the process of design, and getting sponsors, and finding workers experienced enough to work with the technology, and—

Viktor noticed your sudden change in demeanor then.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just have a lot in my mind” You sunk on the seat he had grabbed for you while he was explaining the rune-code system he had managed to crack that same day.

“Would some food help you with that? I hear you spiraling into madness all the time until you get a bite of the pies” You chuckled at that “I guess someone is prone to ‘hangry-ness’, don’t you think?”

That last bit caught your attention.

“How do you know about the pies? Did Jayce tell you?”

“Something like that. He told me you seemed… intrigued by their sudden appearance, but did not elaborate further. Are you not satisfied with them?”

“No, it’s not that. I… I’m gonna be honest, Vik” He seemed to be even more attentive to you after that “I don’t think whoever is leaving those pies understands what they mean… to us” You gave him a knowing gaze which he didn’t quite return.

“What they mean to… us?”

“Y’know, us Zaunites” You pressed your hand to your chest, emphasizing your words.

“Ah” Something seemed to click for him “Did you think those gifts were merely that? Favors?”

“I’ve learned the hard way that Piltovian culture is very different from ours, Viktor, Courtesy, especially, is different for them. At first I thought someone wanted something from me, but the note had only my name written on it. No ‘Thank you, miss duMarquis’ or ‘You have been invited to…’, y’know?”

You took out the last note, the fourth heart drawn in blue ink you had received that week, and you extended it for him to see it with his own two eyes.

Common Piltovian courtesy insisted on giving small, yet expensive, gifts to ask for favors or to thank someone for their help. Some other times those same gifts came as a form of invitation to certain events. However, in Zaun, gift-giving had a very different connotation. Elaborate or expensive gifts were only given under two conditions: between packmates or courting rituals.

The first few times you had been given gifts by Salo you had been horrified, then you came to find he had only meant to welcome you into your new home.

Viktor kept eyeing the note, lost in thought, when Jayce entered the room once more.

“Oh, are we having a meeting? Let me grab some—”

“Actually, Jayce, I’m just telling Viktor about the pie debacle. I have to get to the bottom of it”

“Maybe debacle is just a tiny bit of a strong word for that, don’t you think?”

“No I— Jayce, I… uhmm. I don’t think you get the importance of them. It’s fine, I just need to find who’s leaving them there”

“They clearly say your name, Eda. They are yours!”

“No, they can’t. No one’s asking anything from me with them. They have to be someone else’s”

“Eda, they are gifts. Why don’t you just accept them—”

“Because I swear if I continue getting more of these pies I will start believing someone is actually trying to court me!” You stood up, surprising them both.

While no tears threatened to fall off your eyes, your voice still cracked.

It had been really hard for you to adapt to Piltovian mannerisms, but you managed to do it at the cost of your omega’s sensitivity. Many unrequited advances taught you to stick to what was normal for the people here.

Gifts held close to no significance to them, when they meant the world to you.

“Would that be wrong?” Viktor’s voice cut through the silence after being quiet during your exchange.

Even if you didn’t trust your voice, you answered back “I don’t want to be let down again” A sad smile appeared on your face “Besides, I’m busy, and I already have some— I… I don’t think I could reciprocate the feelings for this person. I have you guys to take care of. The Hexgates won’t build themselves I— We have a lot of work ahead of us!”

You cleared your throat and made your way to the door, on the way noting no pie had magically showed up on your desk even as the sky turned dark.

As expected, too good to be true.

“You say you have enough with the two of us, but would you pursue this ‘person’ if given the chance?” Jayce’s voice startled you. How did you not notice him following after you?

“I’m not sure Jayce, I…” Then everything fell in place. Why Jayce knew what the filling was, why Viktor hid something as soon as you got near him, and most importantly why there were two different kinds of pies in the first place “Wait a second. Are you two courting me?”

“In his defence,” Viktor spoke from his desk, not too far away “I came up with the idea. I heard you missed the pies Jericho made. I thought them a good enough alternative. Besides, sending Jayce down there would have cost us millions in scams”

“Hey! I told you I know how to bargain it’s you who won’t let me—”

You couldn’t help but laugh audibly at that. They stopped arguing to join you, seeing the absurdity of it all.

After your hollering died down, Jayce spoke again.

“So… is that a yes or…?”

Viktor glanced at you, expecting an answer too.

“That’s a stop giving me any more trouble, I’m already behind schedule” You finally relaxed, now sure you had no other prospects to worry about.

The pair tried to appear unaffected, of course they would try to hide their disappointment “Of course, sorry” Jayce started walking back to his own desk and Viktor started putting on his protective gear when you interrupted their moping.

“... but we can get back to this discussion as soon as we submit this project”

Their happiness was just as palpable as their previous sulking.

You all got back to work and, to your excitement, the night ended up going better than expected. You even got to go back to your dorm room an hour earlier than expected.

It seemed almost as if your two partners had a new reason to work harder.

…

Extra:

“Viktor, I will actually murder you if you don’t tell me where you bought these” You took one last bit out of the strawberry pie, which had now arrived on schedule.

“I don’t think you will be pleased to know. It’s better if you don’t”

“C’mon, it’s not like you went out of your way to get them with Jericho and then made them pass for another bakery’s so no one would scam Jayce”

“...” Viktor remained silent, opting to take a sip of his coffee.

You left it at that. A warm feeling spread through your chest knowing what they were capable of for you.

You really needed to teach Jayce how to haggle, though.

...

[buckysgrace]

ok, hear me out : a soft gator fic based on this 🥹

Absolutely 100% I've missed my baby boy. Changed just a smidge but Gator is just a softie, lil sad and love struck <3

It had been a few weeks since he had seen you, growing close to a month now. Work had been busy, and he didn't want to bother you with his own issues. Or get you harmed. But tonight felt different. He missed you, he was lonely.

The stress of everything else just made him want to see you even more. He missed your kind tone, your cheesy jokes and the warmth of your skin against his own.

He took another long drag from his vape, staring at the unread messages as he glanced towards the clock on his car again. It was well past midnight, but you had always told him he could call whenever he needed you. And he needed you now.

The vape obnoxiously hit against the side of the truck as he waited for you to answer, his eyes closed as he reminded himself how dumb this was. You needed to sleep. He was being selfish; he wasn't the only one with shit going on.

"Hey," You spoke up quickly, voice raspy with sleep as he jolted in surprise, "You alright?" You asked, probably shaking the sleep off of yourself.

"I'm good," He winced to himself, forgetting that you probably though something was wrong, "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, wishing he could go ahead and delete the desperate messages he'd sent earlier.

"Gator," You hummed, your voice a little less raspy this time around, "Are you sure everything is okay?" You questioned him as he nodded along, knowing that he couldn't tell you the full truth. Just bits and pieces. But he was alright at this moment.

"Yeah," He answered quickly as he dragged his vape between his fingers, "Just tired is all." He breathed out softly, imagining how nice it would be to be situated between you and your many blankets right now.

"You don't sound tired." You pointed out, the soft creak of the mattress registering in his ears as he supposed you were probably sitting up now.

"I guess I miss you." He mumbled as he glanced out the window, looking up at the stars that seemed to be twinkling in a dull way tonight. He wondered if they looked the same from your apartment.

"You guess?" You teased him, making him realize how backwards his statement probably sounded. He really did miss you, probably more than you realized. He just wasn't good at saying it out loud.

"I missed your voice," He replied, not wanting you to think otherwise, "I just wanted to say goodnight. And that I love you." He told you a little softer, listening to your soft inhale.

"Well, I miss and love you too, handsome," You played along, sounding like you were shifting in your bed, "You could come over when you get off." You suggested, tempting him with the offer.

"It'll be too late," He told you softly as a grin formed on his lips, glad that you still cared for him despite the recent distance, "I didn't mean to wake you up anyways."

"I'm glad you did," You told him, "And I'm off tomorrow, who needs sleep?" You asked him seriously, making him think about the options. He didn't have to work either. And he already had a drawer full of clothes at your place. And a toothbrush. Maybe it would be fine.

"Do you want anything to eat?" He asked as he stared at the clock, knowing the next four hours would drag by until he saw you again. You hummed loudly, balancing your options.

"Just some donuts," You said seriously, making him laugh, "And that's not a cop joke. You'll get all of the fresh, hot ones this early in the mornin'." He'd get you as many damn donuts as you wanted.

"I can do that," He said softly, "I'll see you soon then." He added softly, wishing he was touching your face rather than his phone.

"Be safe," You said sternly, making him nod his head in agreement, "Gator. I really missed you." You replied softer, less teasingly as he sighed in agreement.

"Things will slow down soon enough," He promised, hoping he was right, "Sweet dreams, honey."

[nim-rambles]

Hii! I have a request for Mha ✨️

What if Fuyumi adopts a kid? And they can go out and do a bunch of fun things like playing at the park and getting ice-cream. :D

~Fuyumi x Child Reader~

Reminder: drink water and eat a full meal! Turn on dark mode if it’s currently night where you live~ wouldn’t want ya eyes to hurt right?~ —go to your profile and press the icon that’s on the VERY right, then click “General Settings” and scroll down a bit till you see “Color Palette” and there should be a few options for ya there!—

Note: AHHHHHHH MHA SHALL NOW BE INTRODUCED INTO THIS BLOG!!! 😆 I’m gonna be honest- I got so excited while writing this! 🤩 Enjoy! <3

P.s Fuyumi might be ooc considering this is my first time writing her 😓

Edit: guys it’s been like months how r ppl liking this 🤯⁉️ but u do u 😼💪

(this is more of a FNAF blog now, tho I’m on a hiatus for a few more days but if u into fnaf and u like seeing C.C art then YUPPPYYYYYYY)

Masterlist

Main Masterlist+Introduction

Fuyumi=Red, Y/n=Pink, Teacher+Ice cream worker=Black or White (depending on your Color palette)

it’s been a while since Fuyumi has adopted you. She was always busy with work and other things you did not need to know but she still made room for you, but half of the time it’s either your uncle Natsuo, Shoto or your grandpa babysitting you. Usually ends up with Natsuo. You’ve visited your grandma at the hospital one too many times and you wonder why she’s there, she isn’t hurt or anything right?

You were currently in school playing with your friends until your teacher made an announcement “ok everyone! Y/n will be leaving early today so say your goodbyes!” The teacher beamed, all that was heard were ‘awes’ and ‘bummer’ and ‘lucky…’ eventually everyone got over their little tantrums and said their goodbyes. You were guided towards the office as Fuyumi came in sight, you ran towards her wrapping your arms around her torso with your head buried in her stomach and you felt soft hands touch your head as you looked up making eye contact with Fuyumi “Hi mom! How was work?” You say excitedly. She smiled at you as she ruffled your hair “Y/n, sweetie! Can you give me a few minutes?” “Ok!”

Time passed by and Fuyumi was done talking with the staff. Both of you got in the car as you questioned“Mom, why did you pick me up from school early?” Fuyumi smiled at you again. “Well~ I though maybe me and my cute precious daughter can have a day out with just the two of us!” There were stars in your eyes showing you were indeed excited but you also got embarrassed at her statement of ‘my cute precious daughter’ “mom!!!” Fuyumi giggled as it seemed time passed by so fast that you two were already at your destination. Fuyumi and you got out of the car and we’re walking towards the play ground.

“Ahah! Mom come play with me!” You tugged at Fuyumi’s shirt wanting her to go down the slide with you. “Ok! Ok!” The both of you giggled as you were placed onto her lap, you put your arms in the up as you and Fuyumi slid down “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Let’s go again!”

Now both of you were getting ice cream.

“Y/n which one do you want?” Fuyumi said pointing to a bunch of popsicle flavours displayed onto the ice cream truck. “I want chocolate!” “One chocolate ice cream with sprinkles please!” You beam at the fact that she remembers you like ice cream with sprinkles “alright one chocolate ice cream coming right up! Anything for you ma’am?” You proceed to chant the word ‘chocolate’ as the other two speak. “Ah! Yes I would like vanilla if it’s not a bother!” “One vanilla ice cream coming right up!” Fuyumi paid for the ice creams and you guys went for a short walk.

“This is the best day every!!!” You laughed and Fuyumi joined in the laughing with you. “Be careful with your ice cream! It’s melting!” Fuyumi said as she wiped your mouth with a tissue as you just smiled towards her.

Both of you were finally back home as you were being carried in Fuyumi’s arms “mom?” Fuyumi hummed in response. “Can we ever go out like this again someday?” You say getting sleepy by the time Fuyumi responded you were fast asleep. She giggled and kissed your forehead “of course.”

[cheesetheft]

My Hot Ass Classmates Pt 3!

18+ contains smut and everything in smut Yk I don’t wanna get into details but it’s in later parts so no worries rn! And LOTS OF FLUFF, My oc is in here also have fun reading!!! Also you get all 4 of your classmates so..5 some..? Lol

“I’m washing my hair don’t bother me.” Mizatsu says coldly giving you all chills down your spines.

Mizatsu slams the bathroom door shut making you kinda jump.

“Is she always this cold when she’s mad?” You ask low-key worried for your safety.

“Yeah and it’s bad we have training in an hour shes gonna break the dummies into pieces I swear.” Shoko answers your questions

“I wouldn’t bother her until we can tell she’s cooled down okay?” Geto says.

“She’s scary..” Gojo says hiding behind Geto..That bitch ass coward-

“Right.” You say, nodding at Gojo and Geto’s statements

From inside the bathroom you all hear her yell “Someone get me my clothes I forgot them!”

“I guess I will don’t worry.” You say to the group as you pick out an outfit for Mizatsu.

You go inside the bathroom and close the door so none of the boys can see Mizatsu (Smart girlll)

But to your suprise the barrier surrounding the shower was glass so you could see everything ( but steam was covering Mizatsu’s privates)

“Just put them on the counter.” Mizatsu says like she’s not even fazed you can see her n@ked..

You were a blushing mess bro…. Anyways you set them on the counter and get one more good look at Mizatsu.

With her hair wet, her skinny figure, everything about her was majestical, her hair, her eyes, head to toe. Then you rush out of the bathroom when Mizatsu opens on of her heterocromia eyes and side eyed you, raising an eyebrow.

You shut door so hard.

“You good Y/n?” Shoko asks.

“Yeah the steam from her shower made my face really red.” You reply.

“Oh.” Shoko says.

“Anyways we have like 50 more minutes until training what should we do till then?-“ Geto was cut off by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Mizatsu had a tight tank top on either side an overdose zipped up jacked and some jeans which were all black ( not surprising I said she only wears dark colors).

She was drying her hair with a towel. Mizatsu looked fucking hot with wet and dry hair?!

( JUST LIKE YOU ALL POOKIES!!)

”Let’s go.” Mizatsu says tossing the towel into a bucket for laundry her hair now fulliy dry.

You all say “Yes Ma’am” knowing she’s still in a bad mood. And follow her out the door.

“Ooh we should just play games outside and wait for Yaga sensei for training!” Gojo suggested.

“Yeah!” Geto says agreeing,

“Sounds fun.” Shoko says.

“Mhm sure.” Mizatsu says halfway agreeing?

“Yes sounds like so much fun!” You say.

You guys get outside and play some games while Mizatsu watches like a hawk making sure you guys don’t get hurt, and if one of you does she’ll roll her eyes and help you heal it up.

Then Shoko drags Mizatsu to play with them and she reluctantly does.

“Class settle down.” Yaga sensei walks up to you guys.

You all settle down.

“Today we’ll be watching each other one by one hit the dummies that move okay?” Yaga sense explains what you all are doing that day.

“Okay.” You all agree to Yaga sensei.

Everyone went and hit the dummies.

Now it was your turn.

Being the badass you are you hit the dummy with your cursed technique (It can whatever power you want pookies😍).

After training for fucking 5 hours cuz after that the dummy thing you guys did even harder stuff.

You guys go inside the building and everyone collapses on Mizatsu and basically passed out (SLEEPING GUYS) so Mizatsu being the caring friend she is she carries you guys to your own dorm. And says to everyone one on you. “Sleep tight.” SHES SO SWEET OMG

In the morning you all did your morning routines and met in the classroom you sat in between Mizatsu and Shoko.

Blah Blah Blah boring school stuff now it was your guys free time and could do whatever as long as your all together.

“So what should we do..” you ask confused on what to do.

“Anything.” Mizatsu states.

“Ok you can’t just say ‘anything’ Mizatsu, she meant what we COULD do.” Shoko says

“Anything.” Mizatsu says again.

They all sigh and decide to just talk while walking around the school.

It’s been a good 30 minutes when all of a sudden.

“Gojo you cant eat grass-“ Geto was abruptly cut off because Gojo had shoved grass in his mouth.

“That’s wild.” Mizatsu says trying not to laugh.

“Oh my..” Shoko says also trying not to laugh.

“Can't we have one normal day for gods sake..” You say but trying to laugh either.

“When is it a normal day, we live in a world with curses.” Shoko says.

“You’re right Shoko.” You agree with Shoko

Meanwhile Geto chases Gojo around while spitting grass out his mouth

ILL WRITE MORE BYEE POOKIES

[pbaz7]

Ok we are so back! Had a quick re read of last chapter and ready to react!

the quiet anger she’d been too sore to entertain was beginning to bubble back up.

- this is gonna be fun

made plans to get the hell out of town.

- real, the benefit of being European is that I can go to another country for €10😭 last year in college I went to Barcelona for the day because I was so done, spent €30 total

Paige smirked at her phone a little

- smiling at her phone already?

You sure you aren’t still concussed?

- valid response

Paige grinned a little wider this time. “Bringin’ out the government name now?”

- what else does she call you damn

Paige’s eyes flicked over to her hearing that. “You tryna threaten me or reward me? M’gettin mixed signals with that statement.”

- seeing Azzi in a red bikini is always a reward calm down p

Don’t bother me unless someone dies

- I have sent this message many times how did you know my dnd message 😭😭

Minnesota,” Paige answered plainly, dropping the bags by the stairs.

- Ayyy back in the hometown

Paige handing her a glass of wine. In Minnesota. At her family’s cabin that she willingly .

- realll casual

Paige gave a small grin, setting her glass down. “Alright. I’ll change.”

- working out tg is such an underrated love language

Azzi eyed her, skeptically. “I’m almost 100% sure you were never a scout.”

- Paige gives off major scout energy tbh

Paige sighed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “C’mere.”

- acting like this wasn’t her plan all along we know Paige we know

Paige glanced up, the flicker of a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Occasionally.”

- Paige high is gonna be funny

You

- obviously

She wanted her attention more than usual.

- weed does do that

You always do what you’re told?” Azzi asked, lowering her voice on purpose as her eyes met Paige’s.

- #subtleforeshadowing

For someone who fought for a living, Paige’s touch was unexpectedly soft.

- she’s just a lover girl at heart, and a teddy bear

That’s funny. I thought you wanted to sleep with me the first day we met.”

- lover girl but borderline whore potentially but it’s ok

Paige groaned at the pointless conversation, “You cockblocked me.”

- leave cam alone p

Much later that night, Azzi was in bed, restlessly kicking at the sheets.

- go cuddle your girl Azzi

Better than melting,” Paige mumbled. After a pause, she added, “C’mere then.”

- this is perfectly describing how slightly awkward the first time sharing a bed is

Paige’s arms tightened around her, pulling her back into place as she mumbled against Azzi’s shoulder, “Go to sleep for me.”

- this is so cute

Ok loved this! So adorable! I wanna know more about Paige’s past actually, has she got any crazy exes I need to prepare threats for? Also so excited for the date scene! Hope you are well bestie and congrats to your gf on graduating!!

- 🫂🫂🫂

this is gonna be fun

“this should be good”

smiling at her phone already?

she’s cooked

I have sent this message many times how did you know my dnd message

it’s the only one that actually get through to folks

working out tg is such an underrated love language

it’s so great i love it

lover girl but borderline whore potentially but it's ok

woah how she get whore allegations before Azzi in this !???

this is perfectly describing how slightly awkward the first time sharing a bed is

my girl just turned over and cuddled me immediately. no questions asked i was like oh??

i hadn’t even thought about their past lmao 😭

[flamemittens]

For the bhaalspawn asks:

OK but how does Durge actually view relationships and romance?

From the 9th Edition DU asks here!

Gortash x F!Durge. 900 words.

A/N: So...this got a little out of hand. I'm not even sure if I've answered the question as I got lost in the sauce™, but have this silly thing anyway :)

The weather could have been better tonight.

Admittedly, the trellis that facilitates the climb up to Gortash’s chambers is more difficult to scale in the heavy rain, but she completes her ascent with relative ease, dropping onto the terrace.

There is no need to pick the locks on the doors—in a touch of perhaps foolish confidence he tends to leave them open these days—thus the only challenge is to enter quietly. She slips inside through half-drawn curtains, and pulls the doors shut behind her.

The light in here is low, but her eyes make the adjustment.

Then she sees him.

Enver is fast asleep on one of the large chaises by the fireplace, head back, feet planted on the floor, chest rising and falling. Free of his usual finery, he is simply dressed in a half-open black shirt and trousers. She pads softly over to him intending to wake him up, but…something stays her hand. She stands there frozen in place, a tightness in her chest, and imagines the lifeblood flowing through his veins. Considers him in his vulnerability. Considers them.

She has no point of reference, no guide for how all this is supposed to go. It was never meant to be like this. It’s been an evolution, a negotiation. Communication shifting from parchment to in-person, from neutral locations to between his sheets. Gifts viewed with suspicion at first, then reluctantly accepted. An unwelcome distraction—and indulgence—morphing into a welcome one. A meeting of minds, a push and pull. It is both delightful, and confusing.

She wonders if this is what it is like for everyone.

Truthfully, Enver Gortash is the only friend she has ever had. She smiles, thinking of what Sceleritas would say to that statement—the butler is devoted, and not fond of her Banite.

Her reverie is broken however as Enver chooses this moment to wake up; he gives a brief start, then relaxes, as he looks up at her with a level of softness she’s never seen before.

Something twists painfully in her chest as she realizes he is relieved the interloper is her when he should be afraid—it digs in alongside everything else she carries. She is struck once again by the thought that he has not been afraid of her for some time now. If he ever was. He’s not even surprised.

“Good evening, my dear Bhaalist” he says calmly, voice still raspy from sleep. He reaches out a hand and pulls her closer. “Why are you wet? You’re soaked through.”

“It’s raining outside. I was caught in a downpour.”

A resigned sigh signals his acceptance as he runs a hand across his face. “When it comes to you, it could be worse, I suppose.”

He stands up. “I shall call the servants and have a bath drawn for you.”

“There’s no need. Do not bother them.”

“Nonsense, I insist. For the sake of my new rugs, if nothing else. And I do so enjoy you smelling of my soaps.” He leaves the room, returning a moment later.

“Good. They are seeing to it now.”

“Enver?”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

He frowns and then turns to the fireplace, tossing another log into the flames. “Why what? My dear, as much as I enjoy puzzling you out, you’re going to have to give me more to go on.”

“Why do you care for me?” The question is neither simple nor complex, and it slides off her tongue like liquid before she can stop it. He has his back to her, but she catches how he briefly freezes, a sudden and subtle tension in his shoulders that he expertly dismisses before he continues. She has cornered him—not something that she achieves often with this man who is always several steps ahead—and bent their unspoken rules.

“So, you have decided to ask me all the difficult questions tonight, hmm?” He has opted, of course, for deflection.

“Oh, it’s a difficult question, is it? Should I be offended?”

“You know that’s not quite what I meant.”

“But that’s what you said.”

“Gods below. Well, it certainly isn’t because you infuriate me with disconcerting regularity.”

“No.” She grins slyly. “It’s in spite of that.”

He barks a laugh, then regards her for a moment before continuing.

“Now, while we wait, how about I show you what I’ve been working on today. And after we’re all done, perhaps you can give me the pleasure of your company until morning?”

“Lord Gortash, do you say that to all the guests you host in your personal chambers?”

He closes the distance between them, and gently grips her chin in his calloused fingers, tilting her head from side to side. She hopes to pass the inspection. Granted, there are times when she wants him to be the Chosen of Bane, but others where she prefers him to be Enver. Tonight, she finds she wishes for the latter.

“No” he murmurs after a spell, releasing her. “Only the ones who show up at near midnight drenched from head to toe, drip all over my upholstery, force me to call the servants to prepare a bath, and ask me questions.” He smiles down at her.

Enver it is.

She mirrors his expression. “That sounds awfully tiresome. You must suffer so.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Very well” she replies, leaning closer and patting his chest. “Tell me about your day, if you must.”

[ilovemrutterson]

Since s0urbat won’t answer any of my questions, will YOU tell me what you dislike about the glass scientists so much?

ok sure by the way ive only read the first chapter before i got extremely bored and didn't bother to read more so if i get some things wrong feel free to correct me,

1. i hate how jekyll and hyde have different minds..? if that's the word??? i mean how hyde can speak to jekyll like he's an entirely different person. it seems more like a DID situation in the comic rather than jekyll being a shitty person and transforming into hyde to fulfill these shitty deeds, they're two different consciences in the comic.

2. the hyde design is ass im sorry, its a good design in general but it doesn't seem like it's good for hyde??? i mean he's described as fucking ugly in the book like so fucking ugly while in the comic he just screams twink (same goes with jekyll **WHY IS HE A TWINK HES 50 YEARS OLD** but someone told me that in the comic he's 30 is that true if it is that makes no sense what an odd choice to do)

3. ok don't cancel me but its victorian times right? why is every character I've seen queer, like don't get me wrong yes queer people have existed for the longest time possible but EVERY character I see in tgs is queer. like im gay myself but i think it gets to a point no?

4. i hate the fact that utterson only appears like once in the comic and that he's an easter egg character, i understand that he's the main character of the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde so they decided to not involve him, but he still contributes alot ALOT to the plot of j+h (im not writing the full name again.) so i hate that ALSO WHEN HE DOES APPEAR HIS DESIGN IS FUCKING UGLY. this may be biased because he's my favourite character so haha...

5. the art in most of it is lowkey so ugly im sorry that's my opinion, i don't want to read a comic if the art style is genuine buns in my opinion.

6. i don't like jekyll x lanyon, that's just my opinion and i know the comic really pushes it, i don't want to read something that involves a ship i don't like you get me? i just don't see it happening but that's my opinion

mike oxlongs full statement of the case

i like posting hate about it just for fun since i geniually have nothing better to do LOL, i don't interact with tgs stuff at all, it appears on my tumblr feeds and fyp so i always skip it. i just like ranting about stuff i hate to my 4 tumblr followers. and as some tgs fans said they think my posts are funny so i guess in the end it all depends on humor. thank you for listening to my rant if ive gotten some things wrong please tell me

[eadanga]

The Royal Romance Chapter 10 Part 2

Liam looks as his father continues to address the crowd “I’m sure you all have questions but I promise you in due time I’m gonna release an official statement for now let an old man enjoy the festivities” He steps down from the podium

Liam watches his father I’m gonna be king in a few weeks? Why would he just announce that without discussing it with me? I thought I would have until

“Liam are you ok?”

Liam snaps out of his thoughts and looks over at her then leads her away from the crowd “Yes I’m fine but it’s a shock”

“I can tell by the look on your face you didn’t know about this?”

He sighs “No I always knew that my father would retire just not so soon to be king in a few weeks it’s a lot”

“Not many guys have to ascend to the throne and choose a wife all at once”

“It means that my future bride will be thrown directly into the role of queen”

“Seems like it really caught you off guard”

“My father usually keeps my counsel on all matters I wonder why he didn’t discuss this with me” He shakes his head “I’ll talk later for now he’s right we should just try to enjoy the day”

****

This is bothering him a lot how’s he gonna get through the regatta She looks over his shoulder and sees the press walking over to them And here comes the swarm

Liam grins “We should answer a couple of questions to satisfy them let’s put our best smiles on”

Riley grins “No can do I only reserve my best smiles for you”

Liam chuckles “At least give them half your best”

The reporters come shoving microphones and cameras every where

“Your Highness a few questions please?”

Liam nods “Of course”

“The king’s announcement was quite a surprise what do you think about it? When did you find out?”

“As much as I’d love to answer my father has made it clear he’ll issue statement later for now I can’t comment”

“If we can’t talk about the announcement then we’ll have to talk about something else you’re looking awfully friendly with mystery woman”

Liam raises an eyebrow “Is that what they’re calling Lady Riley?”

He nods “The public does find her an enigma but let’s cut to the heart of the real mystery what’s the connection between you too”

Riley steps up next to him “You wanna know the relationship between the prince and me?” She smiles “I care for him but we are still getting to know each other”

****

Did she say just say? Liam smiles as the press snaps pictures “I couldn’t have said it better myself”

“Do you feel the same way about Lady Riley your highness?”

Liam looks over at Riley who gives him an encouraging nod Guess I’m following her lead “Yes I care for her but as she said we’re still getting to know each other” Can’t tell them the full truth He steps between the press and Riley “That’s all the time we have for today we should really get going”

“Can we get a photo of you two?”

Liam nods “Of course”

He wraps his arm around her waist pulling her closer before they snap a picture Riley kisses his cheek Liam feels it linger as she pulls away and grins as they snap pictures

“Perfect your highness Lady Riley it’s been a pleasure”

Liam nods “You’re welcome” As they leave he turns to Riley “I think that went well”

“Oh?”

Liam nods “I can tell by now when they like someone” He takes her hand “Now come on the race is gonna start soon we should get you to your boat” He guides her to the boat where Maxwell waves

“Riley over here!”

“Your ride awaits”

“You’re not coming with me you can witness my triumph first hand”

Liam chuckles “I wish I could but my place is with the king right now I’ll witness your victory from there good luck” He watches her head on the boat then turns to walk back to where his father stands. He touches his cheek as he walks I felt her resistance to pull away could she feel the same way I do? He shakes his head as he approaches his father Focus Liam you gotta keep your head in the game

****

Riley heads to the boat and sees only Maxwell and Drake on it she looks around in confusion “Drake what are you doing here? And Maxwell didn’t you leave with Bertrand? And shouldn’t there be other people here like an actual crew?”

 Drake looks at Maxwell “Yeah Maxwell what happened?”

Maxwell sighs “Well I have good news and bad news”

Riley pinches the bridge of her nose “What’s the good news?”

“The good news is that you do have a crew to man the boat”

“Uh huh”

“But the bad news is that we’re the crew”

Riley’s eyes go wide “What happened to the people Bertrand hired?”

“Yes well our fund being what they are they dropped out but not to worry Drake volunteered to help”

Riley raises an eyebrow “He volunteered?”

Drake leans against the railing “Maxwell begged me”

“I thought I was rather dignified”

“Practically in tears actually”

Riley giggles then sighs “And you both know about boats”

Maxwell nods “I used own several and Drake is an excellent boatman”

Riley turns to hear “But from what I hear you and Liam nearly capsized once and that says you aren’t”

Drake looks at her in shock “He told you about that?” He shakes his head “Ok that was bad but after that I spent the whole summer learning how to sail properly so you’re in good hands I can’t speak for Maxwell”

Maxwell pouts “Hey!”

Riley sighs Well this should be fun

Tags: @choicesgodfanatic @indiacater @twinkleallnight @princess-geek @iaminlovewithtrr @the-soot-sprite @gkittylove99

[psychiatry-and-poetry]

Missed Chances and Stolen Glances

Part 1 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |

A/N: Here I am, back again with a new work instead of finishing my WIPs 🥰 anyways I hope you enjoy! Also I know this fic is gonna have so many classic and overused tropes 😭 don’t come at me ok? I wanted to portray Azriel’s father here as cruelly as possible while also keeping him compliant to how bad parents can be in our world. This is just my interpretation of how Az’s father would look like in a modern AU!

Summary: Az is failing high school Spanish, and he desperately needs to get his grades up in order to graduate. He manages to conveniently find a tutor a couple of years younger than him, but there's no way he'll fall for her. Right?

Word Count: 1444

“Scattered ‘cross my family line,

I’m so good at telling lies”

~ Family Line, Conan Gray

Az ran a hand through his already messy hair, groaning. What the hell? How had he failed his Spanish test again?

“So, what’d you get?” His friend asked, leaning down to get a glimpse of his test. Quickly snatching it off the table before his buddy could get a look, he scowled up at him. “Piss off, Cassian.” He’d always been too nosy for his own good, and Azriel knew it was bound to land him in trouble. 

“Not in the mood, huh?” Cassian inquired. Azriel didn’t even bother responding, only flipping him off as he grumbled internally. 

I swear to god Azriel, if you fail one more test, you’re not playing on the basketball team this semester, his father had chided when he’d flunked chemistry. He couldn’t stop playing basketball. He simply couldn’t. He was well on his way to getting a scholarship from one of his top sports universities, and even his middle-aged, cranky father could see that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. 

How was Azriel going to break the news to his father this time? Truth be told, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about Spanish, but he needed to continue playing basketball, and right now, that was the same thing. 

Shoving the paper into his backpack, not caring if it got crumpled or ripped or utterly destroyed, he dragged himself home without so much as a goodbye to his friends. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Standing outside his father’s study, he stared at the mahogany door and the gold engraving in neat, elegant letters. Mr. Ellison. 

He’d been standing here for the past five minutes, not being able to work up the courage. Useless coward, he chided himself. Absolutely pathetic. 

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, and knocked twice. The sound echoed all around the marble lobby, and did nothing to ease his nerves. 

“Come in,” boomed his father’s voice from the other side. Slowly pushing the door open, he slipped inside. He was trapped in his father’s lair.  Nothing and no one was saving him now. 

✦ ✦ ✦

“Father,” he started, voice devoid of emotion. His father merely nodded, brow slightly furrowed as he perused what seemed to be vital documents. With no further directions, Azriel took a seat across from him in one of the plush burgundy armchairs, the sheer size of them dwarfing him despite his considerable height. 

He supposed it was another one of his father's tactics, to have over-the-top, extravagant furniture that caused nothing but discomfort to the client. It would make it so that they’d want to leave as quickly as possible and give him additional time to exploit loopholes in their statements and contracts. At least that was what he told himself, because there was no other explanation for his father's ghastly interior décor choices. 

“Well? You came to see me for a reason, didn’t you?” His father barked out. Impatient, ruthless man. “Yes. I…do you remember our deal about me being kicked off the team if I failed another test?” He asked sheepishly and immediately realised how stupid of a question that was. Of course he remembers. His father was never one to forget, especially not when it came to the deals he made. He prided himself on it, flaunting his ‘greatest quality’, as he so happened to call it, like a badge of honour. 

Azriel’s statement seemed to catch his father’s attention, and he paused, staring at the paper as he contemplated…whatever it was selfish, old, stuck-up businessmen contemplated. His eyes narrowed, lips pursing. The only way Azriel could make out his clear displeasure was because he’d been forced to learn how to read the man like a book his entire life. Mood swings and bouts of anger were more common than was healthy, but he’d learned to live with it. Stay out of his way, and wait until the dust settles, his mother had told him before she’d died. Cancer, he remembered. 

Indeed, he couldn’t remember much of his mother at all, seeing as she’d passed when he’d been around six and had only begun to understand the world and its fleeting mechanisms, the slippery nature of some people. What he did remember was the hospital visits and the long discussions with the doctors late into the night. His father was never present for those, instead choosing to work late because of whatever pressing issue there had been at the office that he simply had to take care of. He hadn’t cared for her treatment, delaying it until she was practically begging to be taken to the hospital. He hadn’t even shed a tear at her funeral, only been his somber, distant, aloof self that had made Azriel hate him even more than the day of his mother’s death. 

His father’s sigh brought him back to the present and he could see how irritated he was as he rested his forehead on his index finger and thumb. “Please don’t tell me you failed yet another test?” Azriel opted to stay silent, only placing the ruined test paper on his pristine, polished desk. His father’s eyes flicked down to read the number on the paper, marked in red ink, and then looked straight at Azriel. Avoiding his piercing gaze that would make even the bravest uneasy, he looked down at his lap and his folded hands. “You know what this means,” continued his father. “I’ll have a talk with your coach. You’re benched. Until you get those grades up boy, you won’t be seeing a basketball, let alone touching one.”

“Yes father,” he said solemnly, even as his heart plummeted. He knew what was coming, he knew it, but it still hurt to hear it said out loud. 

As he made to leave, his father called, “When’s your next progress report coming?” He turned, facing him fully, and answered, “Not until March, father.” Why the hell was he asking about these things like he gave a damn? He merely hummed to indicate that he’d heard, then inquired, “And how are all your other subjects coming along? Any more that you’re on the verge of failing?” Without waiting for a reply, he ploughed on, “Or rather, let me phrase the question differently. Are there any subjects that you’re actually passing, boy? Any real chance that you’ll graduate at all?”

He was seething. He wouldn’t have been surprised if actual steam was coming out of his ears, because this was an entirely new level. Indifference he could handle, could handle being treated like he was invisible or that he didn’t matter. It was easier that way. But direct confrontation? He’d never mastered that. It was clear on his face as he stumbled for words, and his father being the vulture he was, pounced on the opportunity. “I thought so,” he hummed. “Well, there’s no use in you standing here like a statue. You can go make yourself useful. How about you actually sit down and study for once, hmm? Try to get those drowning grades afloat?”

“Father,” he cut in, heart beating rapidly, knowing he was playing a dangerous game. He was an egoistic man, and thrived on power, on oppressing those who had nothing to call their own. “You don’t have to bench me.” Before he could really yell at him, Azriel rambled on, not quite sure what he was trying to say. “I can find myself a tutor. If I get my grades up with a Spanish tutor, I’ll be able to pass high school with decent enough grades to be accepted by the university I’m aiming for, and I’ll be able to play basketball. It’s a win-win situation for everyone,” he finished, slightly out of breath and hoping he wasn’t about to get thrown on his ass for suggesting something like this. 

His father was silent, and cocked his head to the side as he mulled over the proposition. It was seal-tight, after all. Why would he say no?

“Fine,” he answered curtly. “You find yourself a Spanish tutor within the next three days, and you’ll get to keep playing.”

“Three days? I need at least a week, father, please.”

“Five days,” the man bargained. “Final offer. Take it or leave it.” Suppressing the urge to tell him how unfair it was, he said coolly, “Okay. Deal accepted.” They shook hands on it, his father’s iron grip unrelenting, as if it was trying to squeeze the very life out of him. Taking a deep breath, Azriel managed to leave the office slightly relieved, if not entirely satisfied, and his heart beating like anything.

Part 2

Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings

[hey-heigo]

Chapter 21

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BYAKUYA ok i said i would be going on hiatus but i got really inspired and also it's my guy's birthday today so surprise update. going on hiatus fr now tho

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

trust ended with makoto and never really started with kyoko now celeste is my new conversation partner

cant believe hes 31. and blond

@digitaldollsworld roman my friend romannn !!!

Content warning tags: description of depression/PTSD, mention of suicide, description of eating disorder

< previous - from start - next >

“Your hand.”

It’s the first thing Byakuya says to her as they leave the bathhouse. Kirigiri pauses mid-step, already halfway to the stairs, and turns over her shoulder.

“What of it?”

He gives her a pointed look. WIth her gloves on, he can’t tell the extent of the damage, but remembering how hard he’d tried to shut that door, he can imagine it’s not exactly pretty. “Is it broken?”

In response, she raises the hand in question, flexing it in front of him with the soft creak of well-worn leather. “It’s fine.”

Like hell it is. The fingers of her left hand hadn’t even been moving when she was typing, curled into a half-moon that skittered clumsily over the keys. But if she doesn’t want to admit it, there’s no point in him pointing it out. He has other questions, anyway. “Did you already know?”

He doesn’t mention Alter Ego out loud, but he doesn’t need to; there’s nothing else he could be referring to. She lowers her hand slowly. “Why do you think so?”

Of course, she would answer with another question. It was nothing but ambiguities and obstructions with her. “You didn’t seem surprised at all. You opened up the locker without any trouble. And you were very quick to volunteer yourself to take full responsibility.” It had been a thought in the back of his mind since the possibility of having to reveal Alter Ego to the others was brought up. She was the one who gave the computer to Chihiro, after all. He lowers his voice: “Considering how you were the one who passed that computer off to Chihiro, I can’t imagine that you weren’t aware of what he was up to.”

She doesn’t reply immediately, instead glancing around the ceiling for any wayward cameras, then behind Byakuya for any stray ears. But everyone else was still gathered around the bathhouse entrance, preoccupied with discussing their next move. Hiro was at the head of it, voice loud and excessively optimistic. “I’m curious as to how you perceived me as being unsurprised, all things considered.” She says flatly, and he feels a muscle twitch in his cheek. “And it wasn’t as if there was any lock on the locker itself. And it was the most logical thing to do, considering our room assignments.”

It doesn’t escape him how she hasn’t bothered to respond to his last statement, and it was too risky to make her answer it out loud, and especially not here or now. He hated having to concede, and especially not to her of all people, but the risk outweighed his pride. “Fine.” He grits out. Let her keep her secrets. “And where are you going now?”

He can probably guess, but he wants to hear it from her anyways. “The third floor was recently opened to us.” She replies coolly. “I am going to investigate.”

“Alone.” He doesn’t say it like a question. “You’re not bringing Makoto?”

“I always investigate alone. Anyone else…would get in the way.” She says that last part hesitantly, as if she’s not sure of her own reasoning. “I doubt he’d want to go with me regardless. Not after yesterday.”

Yesterday? He tries to think, if there was anything that happened yesterday that could have affected their relationship, but all he comes up with are the worst parts of the trial, the body discovery, the confrontation with Fukawa. The memories of everything else had blurred, melting together to become indiscernible.

She’s answering before he can even open his mouth to ask further. “I was the one who told Makoto to out you in the trial.” She says, monotone and unreadable, and then stands there, almost expectantly, as understanding sinks in.

He tries to feel angry, that familiar rush of fury, but there’s nothing, and it leaves him feeling jarringly cold in its absence. At his silence, she continues: “Let me be clear, Makoto did not want to betray you to begin with. I told him that it would be unavoidable, and the only way to clear you of all suspicion.”

“The two of you made me into a bigger target.” He points out, bitterly. A person who would be of no help in investigations or otherwise, who was helpless enough on his own to be an appealing victim who couldn’t retaliate. 

“There’s only ten of us left, in an enclosed space. With smaller numbers, it’s less likely for any one person to be willing to kill. Or get away with it, at least.” If she was trying to reassure him, she was failing miserably.

“Why Makoto? If you were aware, why couldn’t you have told them instead?”

She takes a step closer, and he barely keeps himself from stepping back. “Would they have been as ready to believe me?” She asks quietly. “You said it yourself: I’m someone who you all know nothing about. If I was the one who did it, would they be as quick to accept it? Or would they have started wrongly accusing me as well? Where would we be then?” She reaches out and grabs his lapels - in her left hand - and pulls him close, just enough to whisper: “I am the only one who can get us out of here. I’m sure you know that well.”

He feels his hands clenching into fists at his sides, but she’s right. Of course she is. Out of everyone here, she was the only one who was actively searching, trying to escape, and probably the closest to succeeding. That was the most frustrating part; that he couldn’t even properly argue back.

She releases him and retreats, tucking her hair behind her shoulders. “I will admit. If I had been the one to absolve you, then maybe you wouldn’t have had to be betrayed.” She says simply, and it’s probably the closest thing he’ll get to an apology. An offhanded acknowledgement of his miserable state.

He’s heard enough. He turns on his heel, but hasn’t made even a step when she grabs his arm so suddenly that he almost stumbles. “What?” He demands. Her fingers are tight around his forearm, and he can feel her leather glove, smooth and creased at the knuckles, digging through the fabric of his jacket.

There’s another pause, as she opens her mouth, but she’s silent long enough for him to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Then she releases him. “Nothing. Go eat.”

He was already planning to head to the cafeteria to do just that, but her tone irks him so much that he’s almost tempted to turn around and stomp back to his room. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Starve, then. But don’t wear yourself out.” She was already brushing past him, hair streaming behind her like a ghost. “You still have some use yet.”

He watches her go, a little stunned and more than a little scandalized. For her to belittle him, patronize him, and mock him, after he tried to help her - demonstrated concern, even - he clenches his fists to stop them from trembling, and smothers down the insult that she was already too far away to hear.

What an-! Insufferable little-! He sputters silently. To go from blatantly labeling him as ‘useless’ just a few days ago to saying this now, when his most fatal flaw had been laid bare to everyone…even more frustrating, was how underneath the anger, a smallest shred of pride had curled to life in his chest, undaunted by the disgust that immediately followed. As if he were a dog easily placated by nice words.

…The hunger must have started to interfere with my thoughts. He shakes his head, and turns back to the cafeteria. Behind him, he can hear the squeak of sneakered footsteps, pattering to catch up with him, and starts walking a little faster, knowing full well who it could be. And sure enough:

“Byakuya!”

It was just one after another. Makoto’s hand pinches onto his elbow sleeve, and Byakuya jerks out of his grasp with enough force that he almost stumbles, staggering awkwardly to maintain his balance. Makoto steps back, one hand still raised hesitantly, and his breath stutters slightly as he freezes, unsure what to do.

There’s a lot that Byakuya can say here. He’s envisioned this interaction a thousand times, in between chess and shogi games with Alter Ego, as he showered, as he rested his exhausted, sightless eyes. But the vitriol he prepared doesn’t come; the very act of trying to come up with something to hurl at him just leaves him feeling drained. Hollowed out.

Luckily, he’s saved from having to say anything at all. Seemingly out of nowhere, with only a sudden rustle of velvet to announce her arrival, Celeste appears by his side, placing one hand delicately on his elbow.

“Oh, excuse me,” She hums serenely, entirely ignoring the strange, tense air between the other two. “I pray I am not intruding. Byakuya, won’t you please join me for tea?”

She’d never shown interest in him before. He scowls, instantly wary. “What for?”

“There’s no need for such frightening looks. I have no ulterior motives.” She’s probably smiling, though he can’t make out her mouth on her pale face. Just her eyes, pinpricks of an artificial, unsettling red. “But you have not eaten since yesterday’s breakfast, no? Hifumi’s milk tea is almost passable, and I would appreciate it if you could offer your refined opinion on it.”

He doesn’t move, arm held at an awkward position away from himself to keep her at a distance. Makoto is still there, watching them, hesitating. “Um, Byakuya-”

“And…I would like to apologize for my actions during the trial.” Byakuya’s eyes snap back to her. Her posture has relaxed somewhat, and she speaks slowly, as if every word was pushing against her pride. “I spoke rather callously, and…shed some rather insulting suggestions of your relation with Chihiro. At the time, I genuinely thought I was doing the right thing, but it seems I should not have been so rash.” The hand on his elbow slackens, just enough to be in danger of sliding off his arm entirely. “I can’t imagine how you are feeling now. It’s clear now, you were one of the people closest to him, if he was able to entrust you with something so precious.”

He feels his lip curling with disgust, at her shamelessness. It was unsurprising that someone such as the Ultimate Gambler would use words like cards, and know exactly how to play them. But even despite knowing that she wasn’t likely to be genuine, the stifling, uncomfortable pressure on his chest dissipates, just a little.

And he was hungry. And he has no desire to be face-to-face with Makoto at all, and he doubts Celeste’s intentions to kill him. And there was no motive, nor had he slighted her in any way - and besides. Prepositioning him here, in the middle of the hallway with Makoto to witness it, meant that it would be very difficult for her to free herself of suspicion if he were to turn up dead.

“Fine.” He forces his posture to relax. At that, her hand twines around his arm with the grace of a snake, much like how a lady might be led by a gentleman, resting there lightly.

She radiates smugness, and the self-satisfaction of a pampered cat as she leans into him. “Then, shall we go?”

He doesn’t really want to. But sometimes sacrifices were a means for a better end, and he only spares a single glance at Makoto as he leaves, standing ignored and alone in the middle of the hallway. 

___

“Ah, Princess!” Yamada calls as they enter. And then, slightly panicked: “And - M-Mister Togami-?”

Byakuya scoffs, disgusted, but Celeste tugs him along. “Yes, I am aware of the nature of the company that I keep.” She sounds almost apologetic about it, as she half-guides, half-steers him towards a two-person table near the far end of the cafeteria. “But I assure you, he has his uses. He’s loyal where it counts, and accomplishes things decently well.” She pats his arm, a gesture that feels far too familiar for his comfort. “I’m sure you understand?”

He makes no comment, seating himself with a scowl, and eyeing Celeste warily from across the table, a graceful shape of black and white before him. The girl had always been an enigma - much like Kirigiri in her careful, conniving ways - but he hasn’t forgiven her for how she so carelessly dropped the mention of his meeting with Chihiro. It hadn’t been to clear anything up either; he was sure that her intentions were for her own self-satisfaction, and nothing more.

Yamada waddles out of the kitchen, a large, silver tray balanced between his hands. He sets it on the table with a flourish, its contents rattling slightly - an intricate porcelain tea set decorated with a swirling black design, with a plate full of small teacakes, cookies, and other such deserts - and begins pouring out two cups of tea. He’s surprisingly graceful about it, making a show of pouring the milk in a large arc and stirring it all with a tiny silver spoon, before he sets one down in front of both of them.

Celeste lifts her cup to her lips, taking a careful sip. “Hm. Better,” She praises, and Yamada swells with pride, his chest puffing out. “Thank you. You may go.”

He deflates immediately. “Ah, but-” He clutches the empty tray to his chest like a shield. “Er, to sit alone w-with another man-!”

“Now, please.” There’s a firmness behind her gentle politeness, and after a moment’s hesitation, Yamada retreats to the kitchen with a quiet grumble.

There’s some sound near the entrance of the cafeteria, and when Byakuya looks up he sees Hagakure leading Owada towards a table, talking jovially about the importance of health and food, asking about any preferred dishes, and launching into some inane story about a hamburger and aliens.

“He’s been like that since this morning.” Celeste comments, and he turns back to her. She sets her teacup down with a gentle click, and laces her fingers beneath her chin as she leans forward, her voice lowered to an exaggeratedly conspiratorial degree. “You were not there, but Hiro declared himself the de facto leader in Taka’s absence. He stated that he has rights by age, but thus far he’s only taken responsibility for Owada.”

De facto leader…as if they had such a thing. “Good. Someone has to.” Byakuya grunts, as he lifts the cup to his lips. Owada was the farthest thing from stable at the moment, and he would rather avoid having to participate in another trial so soon. The tea Yamada made is passable, though too sweet for his tastes and richer than he would like.

“Hm, quite right.” She sighs. “I have no interest in repeating yesterday’s events for as long as I live.”

She says what he was thinking out loud, and somehow, that bothers him deeply. He didn’t like how similar the two of them were, how similar she was perceiving them to be. How similar they already were.

“But let’s not waste time on depressing things.” She claps her hands lightly. “I am curious. How is your relationship with Makoto now?”

He chokes on the teacake he had just taken a bite of, crumbling into crumbs and dust into his throat, and takes a hasty gulp of tea. It’s too hot and scalds his tongue, and the raw, healing wounds on his inner cheek. He almost doubles over with the pain, just barely managing to keep his posture. This whole time, he was painfully aware of Celeste watching him over her crossed hands.

“Are you alright?” She asks, offering him a handkerchief. He ignores it and takes another sip of tea, ignoring the burns.

“M’ f-ine.” He spits. He has the feeling his eyes are watering, though there’s not exactly a clear difference in his vision to suggest if that’s the case, and counts himself lucky for not choking. He tries to blink the tears inconspicuously away, and clears his throat. “Why - why do you ask about him?”

She tilts her head as if his question is the odd one. “You underestimate how much attention you drew when you accepted Makoto’s company. In the course of just a few short weeks, we’ve seen you two develop a sudden companionship, then a sudden lull, and then rekindle that relationship as if nothing had happened at all.” He has the feeling she’s smiling, though he can’t make out the gleam of her teeth compared to her chalk-white face. “Would you like to hear some of the rumors that have been spread?”

“Not in the slightest.” He can imagine what tasteless things have been whispered already. “The truth is nothing as scandalous as you’re hoping to hear. He was the first person who discovered my blindness, and was simply assisting me. Though-”

He grimaces inwardly now, at the memory of the trial. The earth-shattering feeling of betrayal. The quiet, hesitant way that Makoto had reached out to him afterwards, guilty as a thief. “Though, I have no need for people that can’t obey orders.”

That’s not the exact reason for his avoidance of Makoto, but he’s not interested in analyzing exactly why the other boy was bothering him so, and especially not now. It’s also not the sort of answer he would expect Celeste to be satisfied with, but to his surprise, she simply shrugs, and nods as if she understands it completely.

“I am the same. Though given our situation…I have had to be a little accommodating.” She flicks a hand carelessly in the direction of the kitchen. “I am surprised, however. Given your nature, I hadn’t expected you to be so merciful. You seemed to let Makoto off very kindly compared to the injustice he did you.” She leans forward slightly, staring at him. “You’ve changed, it seems.”

“Excuse me?”

“It is not an insult.” She says, with the same, gentle tone as a nanny with a displeased child. “If anything, it is praise. You’re far more open now, when compared to before.” She taps at her face. “You’ve stopped wearing your glasses, which you didn’t need in the first place. It’s a sign that you have become less shut off, no?”

“It’s not a sign of anything. My glasses broke when Owada punched me.” Never mind the fact that he has several spare pairs in his room. Trying to wear them now when everyone knew they were pointless would be more humiliating than anything, though he still has to consciously refrain from reaching up to touch his temples, fighting the habit to adjust something that wasn’t there.

“But even so, my point still stands.” Her eyes narrow as she smiles. “Before, you seemed very distant, but now it is more obvious that you are of flesh and blood.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. That was what he was afraid of, becoming more human, more like those around him. His glasses had been a part of him for as long as he could remember, even before there was a real need for him to wear them; they made him look older, Pennyworth had told him, and more mature. Less like a boy, more like a proper heir. Less like his mother, and more like a Togami.

He notices the pale, spindly shape of Celeste’s hand reaching for his face just in time, jerking backwards and out of her reach. If she’s surprised, she gives no sign, and simply retreats slowly. “I apologize. It seems I’ve said something insensitive once more.”

“...You said nothing of the sort.” He lies. Has he become that easy to read? He presses his lips into a thin line. “Even if I still had them, there’s no point in wearing them anymore. Not when everyone knows they’re pointless.”

“I see…if it is any consolation, I do find your appearance appealing now.” She says this hesitantly, shyly, hiding her face demurely behind her cup. But either she had layered on enough makeup to completely conceal her face, or she was an exceptionally skilled liar, or most likely both, because not the barest hint of a blush is visible on her at all. “You were uncomfortably perfect before, more like a little porcelain doll than anything. I rather enjoy this new, human side to you. Even the…imperfections, if you will forgive the term, are quite endearing.”

He can feel her gaze, bright red eyes, roaming his face. “Save your flattery.” He mutters. The burn on the roof of his mouth was making itself known again, and as he glances down at his plate at the remains of his earlier pastry, all he sees is an unappealing, sand-coloured blur. “Asides from the change in supposed ‘leadership’, what else happened when I wasn’t around?”

Thankfully, Celeste doesn’t push the topic, and instead launches into a detailed recount. Monokuma opened up the third floor as a reward for a successful trial, which included new amenities: an art room with just about everything needed for any medium, from sculpting to calligraphy; a very robust physics lab with a very large and elaborate air purifier; an equipment room without anything particularly noticeable; and a recreation room with a pool table, darts, board games, and a weekly magazine rack.

Byakuya raises his eyebrows at this last mention. “Weekly magazines?”

“Yes, but unfortunately, Monokuma has no intention of providing us with any new issues.” She sighs. “I asked him myself.”

He clicks his tongue, disappointed again but unsurprised, and leans back in his chair, taking a biscuit. Everything that Yamada had brought out was too sweet for his tastes, and tasted cheap, with the chemical-ly staleness of preservatives. It was killing his appetite, and he was ready to retreat back to his room.

“It seems that our school life has gained more opportunities to become enjoyable, however.” Celeste continues, ignoring his apparent sourness. “Won’t you join me for a game of Othello, sometime? I’m sure someone of your caliber is familiar with the rules.”

“I’ll pass. I have no need for a partner.” He doubts that she would be a better opponent than Alter Ego, in any case. Especially if he couldn’t see the board.

“A shame. But it was worth asking.” She doesn’t sound surprised by his blunt rejection. “I’m sure I could not compare to the games you have witnessed among the aristocracy?”

He hesitates for a moment. Her intentions were clear, full of the subtle eagerness of a child trying to wheedle out a prize for good behavior. “Witnessed, and participated. But I have to disappoint you, they’re more or less just like the gambling games that the commoners play, blackjack and roulette and such. The only difference is the wagers.”

“Very high wagers, I presume?”

“Yes, but not in money. Most of the time, all the participants have enough money to their name that mere cash becomes meaningless. So they place their stakes in other things- properties, businesses, liquid assets and even people. A family castle, their favored butler. Things that have more value to them than just monetary.” She leans forward on her elbows, listening intently, and after another moment’s pause, he continues. “I’ve only played once, and wagered a genuine second-generation [Delafoy] portrait bust. I won the original copy of the opponent’s family records.”

“A rather underwhelming prize.”

“Not at all. There’s nothing more valuable than information - especially when it’s limited.” He replies, smugly. That book of records was the only copy to exist, and the stupid, sheltered boy who had wagered it had gone nearly catatonic when he lost. He was outright disowned when his family discovered what he’d done, and the family head offered a fortune for the return of it - but Byakuya had kept it, both out of spite and necessity. That book ended up being a precious bargaining token later, when the game of inheritance found him and he needed a place to lie low.

Celeste is captivated, leaning as far as she can over the table with her chin tucked on her laced hands, eyes so wide that the red of her irises - contact lenses, surely - are twin, bloody suns on her milk-white face. Like a vampire bite, he notes distantly, with a hint of snide amusement. “It has always been a dream of mine to sit among those tables.” She says, and her voice is hushed and passionate, eager, expectant; a demand hidden in plain sight.

“It would never happen. Someone of your status would never be afforded the chance.” He scoffs immediately, matter-of-factly.

“Do the wealthy not recognize the value of skill? I’m sure I can provide a stimulating enough game for them.”

“And I don’t doubt that you could. But that wouldn’t matter.” She was certainly clever, but if she was still dreaming such foolish things, then he suspected that she would not last much longer in the mastermind’s game. He leans forward, fixing her with a stare. “The only reason why I could participate at all is because of my lineage; the Togami name is the only reason that family offered to buy back their precious records, rather than simply assassinate me and pick it off my corpse. Someone like you wouldn’t even be allowed to leave that table alive.” Those esteemed elderly with nothing to do and those spoiled brats with lofty ideals would let her join their table, for the novelty of having a member of the peasantry try her luck, but the moment she humiliated them would have marked her end. 

That answer seems to discourage her, and she sits back, plucking another cookie from the tray and turning it in her hands. “Such a violent reaction…it seems that the nobility are much less civilized than given credit.”

“Do you think yourself uncivilized for shooing away an insect? Like I said before, do not flatter yourself into thinking that we are on the same level.”

They’re quiet for a moment, sipping their tea and nibbling at the deserts. Hagakure was trying to coax Owada into eating a bowl of rice porridge, pressing a spoon into his listless hand. Byakuya watches with a strange, uncomfortable feeling growing over him, and suddenly wants nothing more than to leave.

“Ah, speaking of being human,” Celeste says suddenly, as if remembering something. “Makoto found a particularly interesting photo in the third-floor maintenance closet. And a very odd one, at that.” She pauses to take a delicate bite of a pastry, making him wait as she chews. “One of Mondo, Leon, and Chihiro laughing together in a classroom setting.”

“What?” He frowns. Were the three of them that close? He hadn’t noted them having any particular interactions between them to suggest such a thing. “When was the photo taken?”

“That, I cannot say. Monokuma seized the photo, so the only one who saw it was Makoto.” She shrugs, an elegant lift and fall of one shoulder. “But from what he said, they couldn’t have been much younger than they were when we first arrived.”

Perhaps they knew each other before enrolling here. It would be the most logical explanation, and it wouldn’t be impossible based on what he knew of them. He says as much aloud, and Celeste simply shrugs again.

“Perhaps.” She agrees, and takes another bite. “But if they did, they gave no indication of it, and certainly did not act like they knew each other at all. Though, I am inclined to believe it was nothing more than one of Monokuma’s pranks, intended to shake us.”

That wasn’t an unlikely possibility either. Byakuya certainly didn’t doubt that the bear might do such a thing. But for some reason it bothers him, sitting stubbornly in the back of his mind and refusing to be brushed away. Like a conspicuously empty patch of dust in an old room, marking the place where something unnamed once occupied and was now gone. Was it really just a prank, and nothing more?

From the kitchen, Yamada was humming, accompanied by the sound of pans and sizzling oil, hissing steam. Hagakure was still coaxing Owada into eating, while regaling him with another long-winded, far-fetched story. Despite everything, everyone was still going about their lives, domestic and carefree.

He thinks about Kirigiri, who never seemed to stop moving. Always thinking, always searching, always leagues ahead of him. She was similar to the girl in front of him now, clever and scheming and concealing everything behind an unreadable face. But different as well; Celeste speaks in an elegant, lilting cadence that reminded Byakuya of the children of the nobility that he had bumped elbows with before, and he can’t imagine himself having tea and small talk with Kirigiri in a similar setting.

“What will you do now,” He finds himself asking. “In regards to the killing game?”

Celeste tilts her head as if this were an obvious question. “I have no interest in dying. Nor do I have the stomach in me to imagine taking another person’s life.” She shudders slightly, as if the very thought of it was horrifying. “But all our amenities have been accounted for here, and I imagine we have all the provisions to live very comfortable lives. I can be content with this, so long as it ends the pointless tragedies.”

As he thought. Despite all her secretive, careful ways, the way she took to lying like a second skin; she was nothing like Kirigiri. Kirigiri had spine, at least.

He stands up suddenly with a screech of his chair, and she makes a noise of surprise. “You are leaving?”

“I have exhausted your company,” He says bluntly. “So there is no reason for me to stay.”

“Is that so…” There’s a sharp click as she raps her fingers against the patina. “In that case, thank you for the conversation. It was very insightful.”

He has no doubts about that. This was not a simple excuse to have a leisurely chat, but an exchange of information. She gave him what he wanted to know about the third floor, and he gave her a story to stave off boredom. Something to daydream about while they waited to escape.

He doesn’t bother deigning her with a proper goodbye as he turns to go. On his way out, he catches sight of Owada, sitting across from Hagakure, spoon still unmoving, watching him. Faceless and blank.

< previous - from start - next >

[clumsiestgiantess]

Cold weather prompt part 3! Since it’s angst day, I thought I might as well offer some angsty writing of my own @entomolog-t come and get it!

Stretching my arms high over my head, I wake up for the day and instinctively flinch, expecting my hands to whack painfully against the wooden wall behind my bed.  They don’t, and I let my arms fall back down confusedly.  A few seconds later, my foggy half-sleep disperses and I remember where I am.  There’s clamoring noise coming from the other room, probably the reason I woke up.  I didn’t want to leave the new bed I’d been gifted; even inside the air was cold, and the sun hadn’t even risen.  In this blanket, all of that disappears as if by magic.  It’s like no material I’ve ever felt.  This type of soft and insulated fabric is extremely difficult for a borrower to get — rarely ever discarded by humans for the taking.

How does it manage to stay so warm?  The echo of footsteps in the hallway sends my nerves readily spiked with adrenaline, and suddenly I’m out of bed.  Alice appears in the doorway, in a hurry once again.  “Oh!  Good morning!” she greets me, “You were sleeping so soundly I thought I might have to write you a note to tell you when I’d be back.”  Nodding with a tired yawn, I watch as she packs a drawstring bag with various utensils.  “Another one of those exams?” I ask her, concerned that her worried behavior hadn’t changed despite my return.

 “Yes,” Alice sighs, “I think I understand the material better, though.  After you fell asleep, I stopped complaining so loudly about things I didn’t understand because I didn’t want to wake you.  I guess I just needed to calm down and think things through a bit instead of just cramming everything at once.  Seems like a silly thing to learn now of all times, hmm?”  I’m not quite sure what sort of ‘cramming’ she was doing while I was asleep, but I nodded along politely.

“If I was a bother in any way sleeping here…”  “Nonsense!”  Alice waves a hand nonchalantly at me, “If anything, you being here calmed me down.”  There was a brief silence as Alice tugged her bag closed.  “Thank you.”  Her voice softened, stepping up to the desk where I stood.  “That must’ve been a hard decision for you to make.  Just know, I’m glad you did what you did.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m still stressed.  But I think I would be a lot more stressed without knowing you were alright.”

A warm feeling similar to pride swells in my chest.  It isn’t often that I’m assured I’ve done the right thing.  “When will you be back?” I ask, for once genuinely wanting her to be around.  Usually it’s the opposite; humans being out of the house is prime time for collecting harder-to-get materials.  “Just about three hours,” Alice replies.  That gives me time enough.  

I’ve been meaning to check the outdoor faucet and drain some of the water.  Sometimes, when no one’s been using it for a while, it stops running through the makeshift spigot I’ve set up in my home beneath the floor.  It stopped working a few days ago and I’ve been meaning to go run it.  These days it seems like I’m always running low on the precious liquid.

“Will you be alright here without me?  Do you need me to help you down?”  Glancing around for my bag — and inside it my climbing gear — I found it resting in a spot just to the left of my very cozy bed.  Nodding satisfactorily, I turned back to the human who’d gone to sling her bag over the side of her shoulder.  “I’ll be fine!” I assure her, “I am alone in your house often enough to know what I’m doing.”  “Right!” Alice gasps, “I forgot you’ve been living here…  Ok, s- see you when I get home?”  It was a question, not a statement — unsure whether I was willing to let a freak occurrence like this happen again.

“Yes, I’ll be around.  I always am.  Call for me, and this time I’ll actually listen.”  Alice’s smile brightens almost relievedly.  Saying another quick goodbye, she steps out of the room and down the hall.  I stand and listen until the sound of the door locking behind her reaches my ears.  Clapping my hands and rubbing them together readily, I scoop up my things.  “Alright, three hours.  Time to go pay a visit to the water pipes.

Stepping around my perfect bed, I snatch my bag off the ground and rummage through its contents.  I sigh in relief.  Everything is here.  Taking out my grapple and securely attaching it to the wooden ledge, I let the rope fall to the floor and lift myself onto it, slowly easing more and more of my weight on the cord to ensure it would hold me before scaling down.  “Now all I need are a few supplies and I’ll be on my way.”

Only after arriving safely home do I realize I forgot the thread I’d journeyed all the way to Alice’s room for.  Cursing my obvious mistake, I blame it on my disoriented awakening and began exchanging borrowing supplies for another set of equipment — boots that would cushion my fall to the ground outdoors, and a tough strip of fabric to help me grip and turn the spout’s handle that was meant for much stronger hands than my own.  “I’ll just have to go back for the thread later.  Alice will probably take me back to her room herself when she gets home.”

Alice.  How is it that a person can be so frightening yet so welcoming at the same time?  If you’d asked me a week ago what I thought I’d be doing in several days, you could’ve had me guessing for hours on end before I’d even think to answer: ‘Well, I think I’d be snuggling up in Alice’s hands and sleeping beside her on her desk, of course!’

Certainly not Alice.  I’ve had nightmares about her before.  During the summer, she’d kill every bug she stumbled upon without hesitation — some of them even spitefully.  While it’s true I’m no bug, her general ferocity towards small creatures living in her home was more than enough to put me on edge for a month or two.  Why was she so kind to me?  Alice knows I’m.. not human.  She knows that I’ve always been this small, that I’ve been living off the things she’s bought, in her apartment.  

An embarrassed red rushes to my cheeks, and I shake my head stubbornly.  That’s not even a thing for a borrower like me to be embarrassed of!  I’m proud I’ve managed to live with a human for so long without her even knowing I’m here!  Yet, the thought of Alice — the radiating warmth of her hands, the steady thrum of her pulse — is tantalizing to think about.  I don’t even realize that I’m standing in the middle of the hall in dazed silence until someone moves something on the floor above, startling me.  

Relax, Fen.  She’s just a.. strangely benevolent human.. who saved your life.  Ack!  Thinking about this sort of thing is bizarre; just focus on the task at hand.  Jogging the rest of the way there, I slip through a vent on the side of the building and into the chilling winter air outside.  Seconds later, I hit the ground with buckled knees to further cushion my landing.  If anything, this frigid weather should snap me out of my funk.  Expertly, I skirt around the side of the building along the decorative bushes and reach the edge of the side wall.  A water spout curves away from the concrete here.

Using the same grapple I’d slid down the desk with, I take a few good swings and attach it to the handle.  My weight isn’t enough to set the water off, so I clamber up.  All goes well as I use the strip of strong fabric I collected from my home to yank the faucet on, then let it run for a while.  I can feel it through the pipe — freezing enough to make my skin burn red in seconds by just touching it.  Thankfully, I don’t need much longer to get the water running through it smoothly again.  Any longer and I’d risk someone spotting me unawares.  Once, I’d nearly been grabbed by a child while doing this, but I’d jumped into a bush nearby and clung to a hidden branch until they’d gone.

With the coast remaining clear, I head back down.  Just as I unhook my grapple from the handle, the sound of large footsteps rumbles over the paved walkway to my right.  I dart beneath a bush and watch as two humans walk down the path towards the faucet.  Fortunately, I’m finished using it, and there isn’t a trace of me for them to spot.  “Watch out!” one human warns, “There’s some ice over-”  “WOAH!”  The other human yelps and slips over the frozen spot, reaching out and catching themself on the side of the building before they hit the ground.  I freeze where I am.  “You ok?”  “Yeah, I just slid a little.”  The humans walk carefully off, and I let out a relieved breath.  Neither of them had noticed me.

Trekking back over to the vent, I wind up and cast my hook at one of the metal slats.  The two pieces of metal collide and bounce off eachother, my grappling hook sliding uselessly down the closed grate.  Closed?  It’s.. It’s never closed!  I-It’s not supposed to be closed!  Oh no.  The human who’d slipped had fallen against the building here.  They’d hit the metal slits and accidentally whacked them shut.  Shit.  

The wind suddenly seems colder — the bushes sparser — as I make my way to the front doors.  It’s already a rather cloudy day, but I swear the clouds weren’t such an ugly shade of rippling grey when I first arrived.  Through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the building, I can see the lobby.  So close yet so far; I’ll never make it through such a big space without getting caught.  A shiver wracks my body as the wind picks up.  I’m not supposed to be out here this long, not without the new clothing I need to stitch for myself.  Even though the weather’s a bit warmer than the freezing temperatures I was caught in before, it’s by no means warm.

Desperate for at least some heat, I slip behind a discarded cup near the entrance, my skin numbing then prickling with warmth every time the doors open.  For just a few moments, I get relief before I’m shut out again.  WHAK  I cover my mouth to keep from yelping as something hits the ground right behind me.  Whirling around in utter terror, I fear the worst: a human found me.  A relieved chuckle bubbles out of my throat as I realize it’s just a splash of water.. from.. above me.

No no no.  No, please it can’t be.  Two more drops of water hit the pavement around me.  “AHHH!” I cry out as a freezing raindrop hits me square in the back.  My vision blurs briefly, my head pounding with fear.  Terrified, I glance around the walkway.  No one was around to hear me, but that wasn’t nearly as frightening as what I did see — one of the most dreaded things a person like me can encounter while venturing outside.  

There’s an ominous crackling onslaught of noise before I can even spot the wall of water racing across the parking lot faster than any human can travel.  It’s the kind of situation where all you can do is stand in one spot, utterly helpless to stop whatever awful thing is coming for you.  Terror is coming from so far away, but there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop it.  Instead, you stand back and watch.

Water pounds over me, stinging my skin with freezing projectiles.  I’m on the ground in an instant.  My own lungs choke my throat of air, convinced I’m drowning when I’m not.  I take a few gasping breaths to try and assuage it; my face nearly presses against the pavement to do so.  “Please,” I whine, unsure whether it’s the rain or my tears rolling down my cheeks.  If I could just get to cover.

Weakly, I struggle to haul myself towards the foliage I’d left behind.  I flinch and falter with every new pelting droplet of water that tears into my numb flesh.  Panic grips my chest when I pull my hands back to my head, only to find them bloodied and shredded after trying to drag myself across the rugged cement.  I can’t move; I can’t breathe.  I’m dying.  I’M DYING.  “HELP!  Someone please!”  The last word I speak comes out in a nasty rasping groan as I’m hit again.  

Thunder rumbles rhythmically around me.  I doubt anyone could even hear-  “Fen?  Fen!”  Holding a numb hand up against my brows, I barely manage to recognize the looming form of a human kneeling beside me.  Seconds later, the drilling raindrops cease.  Everything’s blissfully quiet and numb.  I lay there and pant.  “Fen, what are you doing out here?!  I told you I’d be back!  Why on Earth would you-?  Oh please be alright!”  

Slim fingers slip delicately beneath me and I wheeze a pained gasp.  It hurts everywhere.  Every breath shakes in my throat with a keening whine.  Soon, I'm hoisted cautiously into the air, covered by a second hand to block the horrifying bombardment outside.  I bask in the freedom to breathe properly, though my relief is largely shadowed by pain.  When at last I’m deposited onto a tabletop, Alice tries to rub me dry with a hand towel.  “AHHGGGGHH!”  She flinches harshly away from me.  “E-Everything burns,” I gasp.  “The.. rain…”  

I peel off my shirt in a hurry.  Large red welts bloom along my skin where I was hit with the freezing water.  Alice gasps, and I tilt my head up slightly to look at her.  Her hands are clasped over her open mouth as she stares at me with a horrified expression.  “Fen..” she whispers, voice laced with tears.  Tears begin to sting my eyes as well, but with pain rather than pity.  The human rushes away while I sit there and shake.  I don’t want to, but I tear off my pants, too.  Their course material stings awfully.  When Alice returns, she hesitates very slightly at my appearance, but quickly moves closer with a tube of some strange ointment in hand, and my blanket in the other.

“N-No!”  I struggle away as she reaches to place it over me.  “It’s ok, it’s ok, see?  The blanket’s a lot softer.”  The fabric falls over me and I cinch up, only to drag it closely around myself not a moment later.  She’s right.  It hurts, but not nearly as badly.  A few minutes of shaking later, and I begin warming up again.  “Oh Fen, will you be alright?  Why were you out there in the rain?  If I was running late.. or if I hadn’t heard you.. you..”  Tears start rolling down her face.  “I- I’m ok.”  My voice is still raspy, but at least I’m warm enough to speak.  

Alice wipes her tears away with a few swipes of her wrist.  “H-Here, I brought you some medicine.  Once you warm up a bit more, you can put it on.”  We waited as I told her what had happened.  However, the more I heated up, the more feeling returned tomy body, and the more painful things became.  After so long, I couldn’t keep talking, and instead lay down sprawled out over the soft material, breathing shallowly.  “You poor thing.”  Without the blanket wrapped around me, she could finally see just how harshly the weather had treated me.

With gentle caution, Alice lifts one of my arms carefully onto the pads of her fingers.  I inhale sharply, but she quiets me.  “It’s alright; let me put this on you and I promise you’ll feel better, ok?  This’ll heal up your skin in no time, I promise.”  I nod and let myself go limp.  Alice takes the ointment to my skin, rubbing it gently over all the reddened patches across my arms and chest.  They sting briefly, but fade away soon after.  My eyes are closed when she gasps and they flicker fearfully open.  “What happened to your hands?”  

“I tried to get myself beneath the bushes.. couldn’t make it.”  Alice gives me a pitying look.  She takes extra caution with them, dunking them in semi-warm water to get the dried blood off.  They start bleeding again, and she shakily wraps them up in little strips of larger bandages.  I try to do it myself so she doesn’t have to struggle with their tiny scale, but the bleeding only worsens, so I have to stop.

Eventually, once the front of me is cared for, Alice reaches for my sides.  “I’m going to have to lift you up to get to your back.  Will that be too painful for you, or should I do it?”  Her fingers hesitate less than an inch from my torso.  “Do it.  I can take it.  I’ll be alright.”  My voice has grown a bit stronger.  The pain is more intense than I thought, and I take in a sharp breath, but ask her to continue.  This awful pain is all the more reason for me to get it taken care of now rather than later.

I can’t sleep, but neither can Alice.  She sits beside me the whole time, occasionally getting me water, snacks, or just conversation throughout the night.  A few minutes past midnight, I gasp.  “Wait, your exams!  Don’t you need to study!?  I’ll be fine; you have to-”. “It’s alright, Fen.  I don’t have anything tomorrow.  Well, today now,” she amends, nodding at the microwave clock.  I relax with a sigh.

“That’s rather sweet of you, though.  You seem awfully worried about me for someone who didn’t believe I’d be kind enough to help them just a few days ago…  Sorry,” she adds after a brief silence.  “I don’t mean to sound rude.  It’s just.. nice of you.  I was thinking about it earlier, actually.  If I were in your shoes — if I were scooped up by some massive being — I probably would’ve run away too, even if they did claim they wanted to help me.”  I sit up curiously, flinching slightly at the pain in my back.  “I- I still can’t imagine what life must be like for you.  I mean, I’m sure it’s fun getting to run around secret places all day just living life to the edge instead of worrying about school and working jobs like me.  But it must be scary, too.  This is twice now in the last three days I’ve saved your life.”

I huff, slightly upset.  “I’m not usually in that much danger.”  Alice shifts closer to me and I glance up at her with a bowed head.  “Alright,” she says simply.  Gently, her chin falls onto her arms — crossed on the counter beside me.  She doesn’t say anything else, but her eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes crinkling worriedly at the edges.  I’ve never been so close to a human to notice all these small details before.  My arm must’ve drifted between my lap and the air several indecisive times before I finally let myself reach for her.  

All those little details shift and soften into a look of surprise muted by a soft relief.  Her hand reaches for me, engulfing my entire forearm before sliding my palm gently onto the pad of her thumb, holding it with the side of her pointer finger pressed on top of it.  Releasing my bandaged hand, her fingers drift upwards towards me.  My heartbeat quickens, but I make no move to get away.  A single gentle finger glides across my head, tucking some of my mussed hair back behind my ear and away from my eyes.  Alice’s hand drifts back down and rests beside me, though her gaze never leaves mine.

“Now that you know I won’t hurt you,” the human begins quietly, “will you stay here?  More.. out in the open?  Where I can talk to you or.. hang out.. sometime?”  Her cheeks redden slightly, and our gazes finally break as hers darts away from mine.  “It’s ok if you don’t want to, you- you probably have a whole house somewhere around here that I’ll probably never see-”  Quickly, I put a hand over hers beside me to stop her from babbling any further.  “Alice, I still live here; I won’t be far.  True, I don’t exactly have to sneak around the place to avoid you anymore, though.  I’ll probably be walking through here all the time.  We can stop to talk.. or hang out.. whenever you want.”

Alice gives me a grateful look.  “I’d like that.  It- It gets lonely sometimes,” she explains, again glancing embarrassedly away from me.  I can’t help but smile.  How could I have been afraid of a human so docile as her?   

Less than an hour later, Alice is asleep.  Her tired face rests smushed against the counter, breaths evenly and slowly rushing through the otherwise silent room.  Something about the moment makes me smile despite the constant throbbing ache of my raw skin.  She’s certainly nothing like how I thought she would be, but at the same time, everything I’d want her to be.  “Please stay like this,” I whisper to no one but myself.  “I know your kind is still awful.  Don’t let them change you.”

[extracontentmediareviews]

FF12 has been my favorite FF game for years, but I always find myself muttering "I hate this part" when I play it...what's up with that?

For the past decade or so whenever someone would ask me about Final Fantasy titles I would always say ”FFXII (12) is my favorite!” And yet, at the same time, whenever I’ve played it (which has been about 3-4 times), I’m always finding myself muttering “Oh! I hate this part!” 

Recently, I’ve been playing Theatrhythm Curtain Call and Final Bar Line…a lot, and even though FF12 (for seemingly arbitrary reasons) has remained my default answer to “my favorite FF game,” I find myself largely avoiding its song selection (Except Rabanastre, my one true love). Besides Rabanastre, I can’t be bothered to actually care about the songs. I would even go as far as to say listening to them inspires a sense of tedium rather than excitement more often than naught. (This might have more to do with the song selection too though. I'll write about that another time.)

It begs the question then…do I even like FF12? Why has it been my go to answer for so long? What was it that even drew me into the title to begin with?

I think the best place to start is perhaps mentioning the first way I truly interacted with the game. (Ok, the actual first interaction was in 2009-ish, my brother was borrowing it from a friend and I would walk into the room every now and then to see him playing it. I distinctly remember thinking every time “Weren’t you just watching that cutscene?!” I had dabbled in the game myself, but, as it goes for typical middle-schoolers, I really quite sucked at it.) But I digress.

So, back in 2012-ish, I didn’t have access to a PS3 (I know it’s a PS2 title, bear with me). I had never had the opportunity to play FF13 but I wanted to know the story, so for the next week I binged a full “cut-scene” movie (in its 43+ gloriously separate parts) on Youtube. After “finishing” that title, I saw that a similar video had been spliced together for FF12, except it was only 6.5 hours long! Clicky Clicky.

I. Was. Intrigued. The first thing that stood out to me was how the narrative pacing of the cutscenes felt incredibly cinematic in comparison to the FF13 “movie” I had just watched. Maybe it was an impression at the impressive opening video that colored the rest of my consumption, or maybe it was the uploader’s particular editing and splicing choices, but I found the narrative extremely engaging. It’s admittedly been a hot minute since I refreshed myself on the nuances of the story, so my statements will be reflecting more on my lingering impression than specifics (give me some grace please) but…

This leads me to the first reason I believe I “fell in love” with FF12. It was the first story that made me consider “maybe I like political intrigue as a plot genre?” At the time, most of the stories and RPG titles I remember engaging with were the typical fate-of-the-world high fantasy plots rife with foretold heroes, oracles of saviors, OP protagonists that held their worlds by the throat, and (ugh) god-killers. In FF12, though it does arguably fall into a lot of these tropes, there remained at its core a sense of  “insignificance” to the characters when considering the entire world of Ivalice. Perhaps it was the absence of  “inevitable-destinies” or that our protagonists were not “famous” due to some well-known prophecy, or that Vaan and Penelo were literally insignificant to the plot, but it all made the characters feel more relatable. Or maybe it was the sense that no one character felt unreasonably powerful in the face of their larger political foes. The geopolitical consequences of warring nations would have manifested regardless of the specific cast’s coming together. Something about the plot also felt grounded in how selfish and narrow it really was. Ashe wanted to recover her kingdom not for the fate of the world, but because it was unjustly stripped from her and she wanted revenge. It was also at this same time I started to discover a fondness for the “slice-of-life” genre where plots existed comfortably within a small, largely insignificant to the broader world, personal scope. By no means am I out to say FF12 was a cheeky little “slice-of-life,” but the first act at least did make it feel that way for a while.

Which brings me to the second reason I default to FF12 as my favorite: Rabanastre. To me, this city’s presentation felt incredibly alive. Part of this I attribute to the sheer amount of NPC’s visually present in the streets and shops. It really felt like there were people believably living their own lives in the city. On top of that the mentions of the mixed architecture (i.e Galtean versus Dalmascan) and the distinct vibe and socio-economic divide evident with Rabanastre’s Lowtown alluded to a rich history and socio-political fabric that made the world feel lived in. It enforced a sense that the world came first and the characters followed, rather than a world being created to justify the characters’ existence. I know there are a lot of good examples across media that also get this right, but there was just something about FF12’s execution that particularly resonated with me. Maybe it was the timing (I was in those impressionable middle and highschool years after all), or maybe it was the grittier approach to the colors and graphics. Maybe it was how absolutely enthralled I was with the silhouette of the Garifs (I don’t cosplay, but I want to cosplay…), but something about the world of Ivalice as presented in FF12 continues to inspire me to this day. 

I think it is here that lies the real reason I’m so drawn to the spirit of FF12 even in the face of the tedium I somehow equally attribute to it. It’s much less the specifics of the story or even the cast of characters that compels my declaration of “favorite.” Rather, it is the robust world of Ivalice that inspires me. It feels so real, so tangible, like a place I could actually visit. I remember for years I would say “If I could visit any place, real or fantasy, I would want to visit Rabanastre.” I wouldn’t mind experiencing and learning that city’s history first-hand.

So is FF12 still my favorite? Realistically, probably not. I can recall a lot more things I liked about other titles. Nevertheless I don’t think I will ever entirely relinquish my fondness for FF12, or more accurately, Rabanastre. The fact that the innovative auto-gambit-based gameplay was surprisingly fun was just a bonus.

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 35

Author’s note: First of the last four chapters...

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"May I come in?" I ask after knocking on the door.

"Yes, of course" Charles replies. "It's good to see you again, Eleanor."

"Yeah, you too" I smile.

"Please, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"So…" he says, nervously playing with his hands. "You wanted to talk, right?"

"Yes. I… I owe you an apology, Charles."

"What for?"

"What for?" I chuckle. "Charles, you asked me to marry you in front of a hundred guests and I said no and ran away!"

"You did. And?"

"And? Aren't you mad at me?"

"Not really" he shrugs.

"What?"

"I mean, I was when you left. But now I'm just… sad."

"And it is all my fault. That's why I must apologize."

"It isn't all your fault. I am the one who fell in love with you despite knowing that you loved someone else."

"I… I…"

"It's ok, Eleanor" he says, taking my hand on his. 

"I'm sorry, Charles. I truly am. I really tried to make things work, to love you the way you love me. But I…"

"You are in love with Declan."

"I am, yes. I tried to forget him, but I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"That usually happens when you meet the one, yes" he chuckles.

"Do you think he is the one?"

"Definitely" Charles smiles. "You've never looked at me or any other guy the way you look at him. Never smiled or laughed with me the way you have with him. And I've always been so jealous… Because I could see that it was true love, the one many people wish to find one day. And you should see the way he looks at you too, Eleanor… Heart eyes emoji."

"What?" I laugh.

"It is the only way to describe it" he shrugs again. "You are destined to be together, and one way or another, it was bound to happen."

"I just wish it would have happened differently. That I hadn't broken your heart in the process and made the press harass everyone Declan and I know because of it."

"Has it been that bad?"

"He's been living at West Ham's training center since Christmas because there are paps outside his house day and night. David still has people keeping an eye on his family because they've also bothered them. And from time to time they also follow Roberta and Mason."

"That sucks. I'm so sorry" Charles says, giving my hand a little squeeze.

"Thank you" I smile. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted to see you. To apologize, but also to tell you that I'm planning on talking with the press. I want to try and answer all their questions so they will leave everyone alone."

"What are you going to tell them?"

"That I said no to marrying you because I wasn't ready to take that step yet. That we discussed it, realized that we wanted different things, and decided to end our relationship."

"And when they ask if it was because you still love Declan? Because they will ask about him."

"I'll tell them that all these years we've remained as friends, and that it still stands, that nothing has changed between us. And then of course I'll ask them to please stop harassing him and his family."

"Will they stop, tho?"

"Knowing them they won't, no" I sigh. "But I have to try." 

"Is that a wise idea, tho? Talking to the press like that? You know they will push you to say more, to doubt and give them what they want" Charles says.

"David says it isn't. Grandmama says that it is the best option, to make things clear and that they hear me saying it. And my parents think the best idea is to release a statement."

"How did they take the news? Your mum must have been pissed."

"She's actually been very supportive, you know how our relationship has changed these past few years. The one who still is a bit confused is my dad. He didn't see it coming."

"Him? The man who knew you liked Declan since the moment you met? C'mon" Charles chuckles.

"That's what we've told him!" I laugh. "But he just says that he didn't notice because he is getting old."

"Could he be thinking about passing on the crown?"

"Nah, not yet."

"But you should start thinking about it…"

"Charles, I have enough problems and things to worry about right now. I don't need more."

"Ok, ok" he laughs. "But one day you are gonna be an amazing queen."

"You think so?"

"I'm sure of it."

"When I'm queen… Will I still have you as one of my best friends?"

"You will. I promise" Charles smiles, showing his dimples.

"Everything good between us, then?"

"Everything good."

"I love you, Charles. Even if it isn't the way you would like me to."

"I love you too, Eleanor" he says before hugging me. "Though one last thing."

"What" I say, moving to look at him.

"Tell Mr. Rice that if he dares to hurt you, I myself am sending MI6 after him."

"Oh, don't worry about that. My family already warned him."

"Good, good" Charles chuckles. "But now, since you've come all the way down to Monaco and the weather is pretty good keeping in mind it is January…  Would you like to go for a boat ride? As friends, of course."

"I would love that."

"On y va, your royal Highness" Charles says, standing up and offering me his hand.

"On y va" I smile as I take it.

[unstablehorsestance]

discussion on ship

I know no one asked this but I just want to pour my thoughts on them. Maybe I'll get better and not get hurt in the future. Since I have no one to talk to and/or a safe place to pour this thought out beside my mind, I'll just write here. Firstly, my English isn't good in the first place, and this is just a rambling thought. This will be a long messy writing.

What is it about?

Like last time, this is about shipping stuff. It will be 'easier' for me if all my ships consist of fictional characters. I know damn well that shipping real life people (celebrities/idols) is not healthy. I need to remind myself, every time I get carried away, that they have a life off-camera, and not everything they show on-camera is true. But yknow, can't help it. So, writing this out my mind in this messy essay is my coping mechanism. I no longer write fics of real life people ships, that was traumatizing, even though my mind keeps making headcanons.

What ship is this about?

Yes, the only real life people ship that is bothering me this year is... no other than sungbri.

Like wow man wtf!

Yes, I too have other real life people ships from different fandoms, but this one is the worst case since 2017. For example; I have shipped coupshan since 2015 till now but never this bad, I think. Like, coupshan is almost glued 24/7 but I never ship them this bad. Sometimes I even question their 'friendship'. Bro, stop looking at your premium best friend like he holds your whole world like that, I'm so single! Can't relate man!

Anyway, this essay isn't about coupshan, so sorry (or not).

Back to sungbri.

Like wow man wtf! From where I have to start this, it's complicated. Ah, I'm not joining the fandom (btw) even though I ship them. Just pure for this ship. So, I'll just start from when I know this group. It was around early 2016, but all I knew about them was: they are a 'brother group' of G7. No offense to the fandom (please). I know they were 6 first and their 'infamous' debut song, but not following them. I don't know the members name but jae. I started listening to D6 since; one day I 'accidentally' watched mubank on TV and they were there promoting 'I Smile'. It was like love at first sight(?); oh ‘that voice’ belongs to this man, sungjin I love you ! After that I started doing ‘research’ on them. Members name, position, age, memorized their faces. But still I didn't plan on joining the fandom. So, just that and I became a casual listener.

However, I have this habit of looking for the parents of the group. Every group always has members that have those roles. Then I discovered that D6 only has the 'father' role that is sungjin. That was the statement of the mayor voice of the fandom. I remember, they (the fandom) also stated that D6 isn't like your typical boygroups that do fanservices. I don't know what that means but my first thought was about shipping stuff. No shipping the members, and it's just 'sungjin and his children'. I was so intimidated by this fandom, really. So I kept that in mind till earlier this year.

Now, did I just start shipping sungbri this year? No. I have been shipping them (in silence) since 2018, maybe. But I never dare look for their contents/moments on yt or anywhere. I was so intimidated by the fandom, I never thought that one ship ever existed in this group. Until one day, I found this video clip of doun, sungjin and brian, and my first thought was: he is 'the mother'! Still the fandom statement is valid: this group doesn't have a 'mother' role, like it was an insult.

Well, if I worded it like that the fandom will definitely be offended for real. OK, if you accidentally found this you can bully me. Sorry.

So, I'll discuss a bit about that 'famous' clip that makes me a sungbri shipper (in silence). I was like, the baby is scared, sungjin! Stop acting tough. And then brian rushed in to help the baby. They are sooo typical asian parents on that clip. Papa wants the baby to be tough like him. Mama doesn't want the baby to get hurt. Omg, SHIP!!

And then there is this, I don't know what to call it… comparison? Is it 'parallel'? Anyway, I think personally, they are a bit similar to jjp. This is pure personal opinion! That's what I see on them. Like: "a hard life of jb/sungjin as a leader" they share that kind of vibes. Even though brian isn't as 'motherly' as jinyoung who self proclaimed as G7 mother (or bambam's specifically), he did have that motherly side, at least to doun.

Just that! Really just that! It never developed further. I am purely only a casual listener. Especially after I watched that 'infamous' video of glamor where they hugged awkwardly. My first thought was: they are sooo awkward, are they not close? Does this ship really only exist in my mind? I was so dejected, and I buried this idea of shipping them since that day.

Until earlier this year, I randomly stumbled upon a sungbri pic on pinterest. It was the one where sungjin piggyback brian on one of their concerts. I was like: who is that? Brian's face wasn't visible from that angle of the photo I found. I mean, I know sungjin isn't into skinship but why is he piggybacked one of the members? Then I scrolled down and found the one where brian's face is visible. I collapsed. It felt like finding an oasis. There was 'sungbri' written under that pic, and I was like: they have ship names! The ships exist! I'm not delusional. Then I rummage through sungbri keyword/hashtag on pinterest and twitter. There was a lot! It felt like I had been fooled! 

I was happy to find out that the ship indeed exists, however small. At the same time I wondered why the fandom stated something like that? I mean, they did ship the members. Are they (the shippers) just a small part of the fandom? Are the members homophobic? Are the fandom homophobic? Really, it felt like I had been fooled, for like what, six years?? OK, maybe it’s part of my own fault since I didn't find out myself, back then. But I was already intimidated, what can I do about that? I was just trying to respect the fandom ‘rules’. Also I tend to be curious about a fandom from the ships first. (I stan svt because of coupshan first, yknow)

So that was the story of how I’ve been fooled. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, finding out that it was OK to ship them way earlier. But it's not all bad just finding out this year. I mean, I’m trying to look at the bright side. They have a lot of moments this year! Not only the shippers, even the longtime/old fans were also shocked with their dynamic/relationship development. Like, what do you mean sungjin is OK with any skinship now?? Sungbri even hugged several times in front of fans, and on national tv!! And what do you mean now sungjin looking at brian with heart eyes too? Even often calling him cute too. I was like: after all these years, his love is reciprocated!! I don’t mind brian having sungjin for himself, he deserves that.

I’ve watched some of their videos from last year and they were still timid to show affection to each other. It’s funny to me how they were just standing there, staring and smiling to each other on brian’s military discharge >< I mean, I watched suju military discharge (years ago) and all the members were hugging each other. The sungbri one was hilarious. Well, it’s not surprising with sungjin and his no touchie agenda >< But seeing them smile at each other warmed my heart. Oh, I want to point out a little from that moment. We got two videos from D6 yt and sungjin yt. I always wondered, did brian really have zero idea about sungjin picking him up? Why did he show up with casual clothes and not his military uniform? I mean, when D6 staff picked up dopil they were still wearing their uniform. Nevermind that. What I want to point out is; on the meeting point, while still inside the car brian could’ve seen sungjin waiting outside, but he didn’t. After stepped out of the car he seemed really surprised and happy to see sungjin there. I mean, he closed his eyes right before stepping out of the car, not before the car made a turn to the meeting point. It is even funnier to me how the manager led him to sungjin. Like, she walked him down the altar to meet his future husband >< omg, i’m delusional this is not healthy.

OK, I no longer write ships analysis like years ago, however bad I want to. That's traumatizing. So, I need to stop writing more of this. My only wish for them is; please have a grow-old-together kind of love, and stay healthy, men.

I’m not regretting anything, but consuming this ship's contents too much isn’t healthy. I really need to stop. This essay has no intention to offend anyone. Sorry.

[bleue-flora]

hey moot we disagree on majority of things I'm ngl but you seem like a caring person and I enjoy reading your takes and perspective.

I don't think disagreements over lore should stop us from being friends ^^

(Is this you confessing to being an innitor? ;D Don’t worry, it’s okay I promise I won’t bite lol XD)

I agree absolutely, I see no problem disagreeing with people and still being friends and stuff as long as that disagreement doesn’t spread to acts of hate and causing harm. An opinion is just an opinion after all, and everyone have a right to one whether I agree or not. I certainly don’t know everything so my opinion can only be as good as the information I have, which as it grows so does my opinion.

And I do say some more outlandish things compared to most people, to which you are not the first nor I suspect the last to disagree with. What I find interesting however is that I think some people misconstrue what I’m sometimes saying, because the amount of actual “takes” I post is actually kinda small. Because the majority of the time I’m just highlighting lore or actual fact. A another large part is just me asking the questions - what if? - whether I agree one way or another. There are also the times I play with reasons for weird lore discoveries, which I may or may not actually agree with but is interesting to think about nonetheless. And on top of that my opinion continues to constantly evolve and change as I rewatch more lore and read other people’s posts. So the amount of actual takes is rather small to be fair. I think sometimes people mistake my takes for when I’m poking holes in other takes, but just to be clear there is a reason I put question marks and statements like: “I don’t know” “I think” “in my opinion” “the way I see it” “in my mind” “it is my understanding” “who knows” “to me”…etc because I am stating my perspective, maybe even my unsure thoughts or current thoughts at the moment of writing, which may not be the end all be all. What I often poke holes in are peoples statements who say things as if it is objectively true or fact, when while there may be things to support it that doesn’t make it factually true. That is just more so our perhaps collective headcanon not necessarily canonical fact. And it sometimes bothers me the lack of the above statements that separate an opinion versus something objectively true.

All that to say, it’s possible that I may actually agree with you even if I sound like I’m not, because I may change my opinion, and I do try to separate my opinion from the straight up facts. Or maybe I do disagree in which case that’s ok too. I mean, I’m always right, but ya know everyone has a right to an opinion, even if a bad one ;D (jk XD lol).