seravphs

[seravphs]

just saw you saying to an anon that you haven't read "Seabird" yet. GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU SHOULD READ IT, it's so fucking funny and i like that his ego gets humbled there😭🤯 - From a Sae girlie

I don't read much fic in general but I'm sure it deserves all the love everyone has for it! Maybe over the summer.

If you haven't seen it though I think everyone should look at the art Sumi drew for it: link

[seravphs]

a present for sumi <3

“Where are you going all buttoned up like that, Father?”

“You think you’re funny,” Sae says. 

When you laugh, your whole body shakes with it. The iron chains holding you make scraping noises across the concrete floor. 

“I’m being serious,” you say earnestly. “I’m looking out for you, really. Don’t you know that my imagination is so much worse than reality? Trying so hard to cover up only makes me wonder what you’re hiding.” You let your eyes leer over his form, as if you can see under his black robes.

Sae ignores you, getting closer. He kneels by your side and tests your chains with one hand. The iron holds fast. “Not too uncomfortable, I hope?” 

You try another tactic. 

“You’re a brave man, Father. But brave is just another word for stupid sometimes. Don’t you feel bad? You’re going to leave your flock unguarded. Maybe, when I’m done with you, I’ll come and eat them up.” 

You bite at him playfully. At least, it was meant to be playful. Sae doesn’t seem to be interested in playing along. 

Quick as a whip, he snags your mouth and pulls it open, running the tips of his fingers against your razor sharp teeth. Amazingly, they remain unbroken. 

“Hey!” You spring back. “That’s rude!” 

He scoffs at you. “Eat them up with those blunt teeth? You’d be better off taking the meals I give you.” 

You should’ve known he’d be harder to manipulate. He’s already proven it to you. 

You came to him in the guise of an angel. It wasn’t hard to pretend. The family resemblance means you all have the same otherworldly features. Without a moral axis, divinity is just divinity. And if you’re not told otherwise, you might just mistake a demon for a god. 

So it’s justifiable why you thought Sae would be easy. Most people are, even priests. They’re too taken with your burning eyes to notice the scent of brimstone that follows you around. 

You thought Sae was the same. He invited you in, led you into the basement. Then, just before you were about to strike, he clapped you in these chains. 

Finished with testing your restraints, he stands up. Before he gets completely off the floor, something catches his eyes. His hand lashes out, catching your tail. It writhes in his grip. 

His eyes spark, almost like a cat does upon seeing a mouse. He tugs at it. 

“Stop,” you whine, trying to tuck it under you. 

It only makes him worse. He runs his thumb against the underside of it, stroking where it tapers to a point. It makes you shiver. He cracks a small smile. 

“Cute.” 

Your tail lashes, pulling itself out of his grip. 

“I’ve never seen a demon up close before,” Sae says. His gaze is intense. “I know you have a tail. What else about you is different?”

You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It’s a cold kind of gaze. You feel like he’s preparing you for dissection. You wouldn’t put it past him. 

His hand cups your cheek, forcing your gaze up at him. Down on your knees, you feel strangely like one of his parishioners, a sinful being seeking absolution. His thumb rubs itself back and forth over your cheekbone. 

He almost looks like he might kiss you.  

“Wait," you stutter out. “Your vows. Your god, remember?” 

Sae looks down at you. His face is impassive. For a second, the light reflects off the stained glass behind him, catching him in its glow. He looks almost divine. 

“I think,” Sae drawls, his hands on you. “He’d forgive me this once.” 

“Wait,” you’re panicking. “Wait. Hang on. We can talk about this.” 

“I’m just joking,” he says. “I would never.” 

That annoys you. What does he mean he would never? He thinks he’s too good for you, just because he’s a lamb of god? 

“I am grateful for you, you know,” he says softly. “I thank my god that he sent you.” 

“He did not!”

“I was losing faith before I found you.” 

“I’m going to kill you,” you tell him. “And drag you screaming down below!” 

“Then take me to hell,” Sae says. His finger taps your cheek lightly, almost fondly, almost in the imitation of a love peck. “That is, if you can, little demon.” 

guys i have a wicked idea. what if you guys give me a public execution

[seravphs]

BESTIE CAN YOU REC ME SOME MORE SAE FICS, I'VE READ ALL OF YOURS AND THEY'RE FUCKING AMAZING. i've heard seabird is also really good but idk which author it is so if you read it pls tell me your thoughts before i dive in🤡

Thanks! Anything I've read and recommend can be found under #sera reads but I know that's not organized by character so it can be annoying. I don't know if I've read that many Sae fics to be honest. If you're 18+ I recommend @suguwu and @/prettyboykatsuki.

I literally just saw Sumi talk about Seabird and I think she drew a comic for it! She has immaculate taste so I would 100% recommend it even without having read it yet. It's by @/m1ckeyb3rry. Here's the link! Honestly @sumiscribe-side is probably a better person to ask for recommendations. Scroll through her blog!

[seravphs]

mutuals what perfume or cologne do you use? 👀

[seravphs]

Just childe

[seravphs]

Reading isn’t enough I need to be in Blue Lock so I can murder Ego

[seravphs]

canon gojo and the ambiguity of your deeply intimate relationship and the look of subtle devastation when people ask what you two are to each other and you smile somberly and say "comrades" without missing a beat

[seravphs]

guys i have a wicked idea. what if you guys give me a public execution

[seravphs]

another one of your roommate’s hookups is drinking your oat milk.

he eyes you appreciatively, his eyes tracking your legs, covered only by a low-slung pair of sleep shorts, up to where your tank top bares your shoulders and little clavicle divot. you frown at him and slam the cabinet shut so he jumps a little and sloshes coffee over the rim of his mug.

“hey,” he says, “i’m oliver.” when you don’t say anything, he continues: “i’m a friend of himari.”

you snort. friend. he still has her lipstick print on his neck. he’s still looking at you expectantly with a pair of long-lashed heterochromatic eyes so startling they’re almost beautiful, so you take pity and tell him your name.

“you’re up early. i heard you guys come in pretty late last night.”

“ah, yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, a sheepish gesture, but he somehow doesn’t look shy at all. maybe because you can tell that he’s flexing as he does it. “sorry about that.”

“eh,” you shrug it off, “i was up anyway. cramming, you know.”

you were reading romance manga, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“oh, so you’re a student! i bet you could teach me some things, then.” you turn your back to sit at the kitchen island and try not to let him see you smiling at his total corniness before you sit facing him. he’s so blatant it flips the corner back to endearing. “i play pro football. i’m used to getting up early for practice.”

and to leave before my hookups wake up, you read between the lines.

“cool.” it is, actually.

you’re leaning across the island with your elbows propping you up, not noticing how focused you are on the bob of his throat as he finishes up his coffee. you flutter your lashes, eyes wide as he crosses his arms and does the same, bent at the waist so you’re almost nose to nose, bridging the countertop.

“right! so i was thinking i could give you—“

“is it supposed to look like that?” you blurt, brain momentarily overwhelmed by the minty smell of his breath and the way you can almost feel his lips against yours. he backs up slightly, more than half an inch between you now.

“what?” he has a bemused half-smile on, like he thinks he should be turned off by your bedhead and bluntness but is too intrigued to care.

“your beard. is it supposed to be shaped like that?”

he blinks.

“what is it shaped like? is it bad?” he scrubs a hand over the facial hair in question, suddenly looking so concerned you almost feel bad. it was a genuine question.

you don’t normally go for guys with beards, but he really is good-looking under all the rakishness.

“it’s not bad,” you shrug. “you look kind of like a dog. scruffy. in a good way.”

“that doesn’t sound like it’s in a good way,” he says, aggrieved. “it’s supposed to be handsome. mature.”

that rips a laugh from you. “it’s definitely not giving that.” he makes a noise that almost sounds like a sob. you wonder if all football players are this dramatic.

your roommate chooses that moment to start making waking-up noises from the room oliver left open, and he glances at you with panicky eyes. they’re almost hypnotic as his gaze darts between you and the door.

“better get going,” you laugh. “see you on the sports channel, maybe.”

he whips around, stuffing a pair of keys in his pocket and heading for the exit. he turns around with his hand on the knob, pointing at you.

“come see a game in person. i’ll tell ‘em to let the prettiest girl in for free.”

[seravphs]

“You have crazy eyes,” Oikawa says offhandedly, setting a glass down and leaning hard on a wooden table, long legs crossing over each other elegantly.

“I do not,” Iwaizumi retorts. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mhm,” Oikawa pushes his head into the other man’s line of vision, dodging as Iwaizumi unfolds his arms to make an attempt at pushing him away, his gaze locked on the other side of the deck all the while. “Nothing’s happening, that’s why the vein in your forehead is about to pop. You’d think he’d notice the big dumb guy staring at him this whole time.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” says Iwaizumi, casually posing his arm to rest on the table, open palm up.

“Maybe he has noticed and he’s just ignoring it?” Oikawa squints, dropping his (prescription, but don’t you dare tell anyone) sunglasses down his nose for dramatic effect. “A braver man than me, then.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Iwaizumi says, but his fingers twitch, not quite a fist and not far from being one. His eyes are an olive orchard burning. As Oikawa said: crazy.

You are: oblivious, blithe, gorgeous. The tops of your shoulders are sun-warmed and you’re swirling a glass of red in your hand, the contented lilt of your smile familiar to him after many nights watching your favorite wine stain your lips. He sees you sway a little, your eyes popping wide as you realize all too quickly that you might be a little further past tipsy then you’d thought, and the bastard you’re talking to puts his hands on you. One on your shoulder, one on your waist to steady you.

Hajime’s always had a penchant for parkour when he’s drunk, and you and he have been taking sips of each other for days now. He slams a palm down on the hard wood, momentarily airborne as he jumps over the table and cuts through the other people standing around to get to you.

“Hey,” he says, grin looking a little feral as he watches the hands on your waist come off. The guy’s movements are jerky, looking at him like what the hell, man? Iwaizumi has no idea why.

“Hi, Haji,” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. “This is Naoto. He’s from the same place I am, actually.”

“Cool,” Hajime says, extending a hand to shake like he learned at networking mixers at UCI. Naoto stares at him for a second and then takes it cautiously, wincing as Hajime crushes his fingers in his best arm-wrestling champ grip. “Good to meet you.”

Naoto clearly does not think it is good to meet him. He steps back upon release and makes a rushed goodbye to you, citing a group of friends he suddenly needs to find urgently. You smile and wiggle your fingers at him vaguely, already far more focused on the sun setting over the waves past the terrace than you are on whatever is happening between the two of them. Hajime steps up behind you, sliding a hand over your waist, his palm covering the surface area touched by Naoto. You put a soft hand over his, stroking slowly over his calloused knuckles, and hook your other arm back to tug him forward so he’s pressed against your back, bending so he’s cheek-to-cheek with you, watching the water undulate.

“You havin’ a good time?” His voice is a little rough from the clear liquor he and Oikawa were drinking paired with the effort of keeping his voice quiet, his concern just for you.

“Yes, sir,” you say, taking another sip from your glass. You hold it across your chest and he wraps his fingers around the delicate stem, putting his mouth right over the print yours left. “You?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s beautiful out here. I think Shittykawa got sunburnt on the beach, though.”

“His fault for being pale,” you wave your left hand dismissively. He wants to pin you like a butterfly, your wrist arched gracefully against the darkening sky. “He has all those fancy skin creams to stop it from flaking, too.”

He feels a little bad for abandoning his best friend, but when he turns his head to check on him, the other man has reunited with Makki and Mattsun, who are all clustered together while taking photos of the two of you. Oikawa’s features specifically are spelling out something very smug and that will be very annoying for Hajime later. Iwaizumi concludes that he will probably survive thirty seconds without direct entertainment from him.

“He gets bad flush, too,” he thinks aloud. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“See?” He hums and rubs his thumb over your top where he’s holding you with the right hand, soothing circular patterns. He can almost feel you purring. “I can always tell when you’ve started drinking for the night because Kawa gets red and you start running around and climbing things.”

“I don’t,” he protests, but it dies in his throat. You shake in his arms as you laugh.

“You always do. You tried to climb up my balcony once, remember? You said you could beat the elevator up.”

“I would’ve done it if security hadn’t come out,” he grumbles. You take your glass back and put it on the railing. It’s perilous, but Hajime doesn’t say anything. If it spills over your outfit, he’ll follow you back to the room and help you change.

“When I met you, I didn’t expect you to be the crazy type,” you say, turning so your lips brush his skin as you speak. “You seemed so steady compared to Kawa.”

“Only crazy about you,” he says. You sigh happily and melt back into him. He exhales slowly, a controlled breath, and wonders how a bastard like him got so lucky.

[seravphs]

this makes no sense but in a good way you are so blue to me the way you portray your people so gently

love you :) this is such a kind thing to say

[seravphs]

“He acts like your boyfriend,” Hiori says. “Are you okay with that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really,” he says, his voice going purposefully flat so you know that he’s mocking you. “No idea.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” you gripe.

He tilts his head at you. He’s a little more drunk than he should be. There’s something about him that feels off, more so than usual. He normally has quite a good grip on whatever strange tendencies lay dormant inside him, but tonight his inhibitions are loose.

It unnerves you. You’ve always known there was something fundamentally fucked about his psyche. Other people have tried, futilely, to warn you away from him, but you came into this relationship with your eyes wide open.

You’ve always known there was a crack in his personality, as twisted as his face was cute. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, actually. There’s something sexy about someone with a secret side to them. You can’t help but want to pry it out of them.

But knowledge and experience are two different things, and Hiori’s acting kind of scary tonight. He’s not doing anything, technically. It’s all in your head. It’s like watching a charmed snake dance - sinuous, mesmerizing, and perilous.

“I thought,” he says, enunciating his words carefully, his finger tracing the rim of his glass almost as if he’s not paying attention while you’re hyperaware of him, “that you liked that sort of thing. You have a type, ya know.”

“Wasn’t aware, actually.”

He looks up at you from under lowered lashes. You suck in a breath. It’s seductive in the way an anglerfish light is seductive. There’s a small smile playing about his lips.

“Yeah?”

“I have to- um. I’m going to get another drink.”

He grabs your arm before you can flee. “You can just have mine. It’s your favorite,” he says softly, gently. You’re definitely the problem. He’s being so nice to you and all you can feel is this weird vertigo inducing blend of overwhelming lust and fear. Forget Hiori, something is definitely fucked in your brain.

“I’m okay-“

“Why are you being so skittish?” He’s still smiling. He’s so, so happy about this. His hand is still on your arm. His thumb is tracing warm, comforting circles on your gooseflesh skin even as he tries to devour you with his eyes.

The thing is, you kind of want him to.

“Oh,” Hiori says. His face has gone kind of dead and flat. “Look. Your little boyfriend is back.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you protest, reminded of your initial argument.

“Really?” Hiori smiles. It’s this special, rare thing that only shows up when he’s drunk. It’s just the hint of curved lips and eyes that are a little too bright. He looks kind of unhinged, but not in a serial killer way. It’s far more subtle than that. “Should I do something about it, then?”

[seravphs]

I think it's sweet when people comment "stay healthy" on fics <3 I am a person before I am a writer! Thank you for thinking of me

[seravphs]

sorry my first fanart in this fandom is gaku fanservice. but tbh if it had to be anything it has to be gaku fanservice 🤷🤷🤷🤷

[seravphs]

selfship coded. in reference to this so the very itti-bittiest hsr 3.2 spoilers. choosing to roll with this dynamic and characterization for sunday (roast).

"I never pegged you for a kiss up."

Sunday's ear wings quiver every so slightly before he turns toward you, expression smoothed over with a smile. A sense of deja vu washes over you, but you blink it away. As much as Sunday is working toward changing himself, there are still remnants of the Oak Family, such as this practiced look. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says evenly. "I was merely giving the esteemed madam a compliment." 

"A backhanded one?" you ask dryly. 

"Is that how it seemed to you?" 

"I'm very used to the way you talk, you know," you say with a sigh. Or rather, you're acquainted enough with Sunday's unique brand of eloquently phrased snark that you could pick it out in a heartbeat.

Sunday hums. "Is that so?" 

You give him a deadpan stare and wonder idly if Mr. Yang would mind if you tossed him from the space station into outer space. Again, you sigh. "Besides, I don't think I know anyone as calm and collected as you."

While you think Sunday has been making an effort to genuinely learn humility, you know full well that he's self-aware— actually, had he not said that you would have nearly taken his words at face value. 

"... should I take that as a compliment?" 

Normally, the answer would be yes, right? For any other person, definitely, but for him... 

"No." The word comes out of your mouth unintentionally. You'd meant to give him a more vague, noncommittal sort of answer, but you suppose this sort of obstinacy is hardwired into your brain now. 

"Oh?"

Guess you need to own up to it now. "I think it'd do you some good to unlearn some of those control freak tendencies that keep you so calm and collected."

There's a familiar flicker in Sunday's gaze and he gives you a soft but strained chuckle. It’s obvious he doesn’t completely agree with the notion. You wonder if he’ll tell you outright. “I’ll… consider it.”

"No, you won't," you say immediately, clocking the lie.

His eyes widen a fraction, and this time, when he smiles, it’s a little more genuine. "I guess you're right; I won't."

You knew it. 

"But..." he adds slowly, his ear wings curling slightly toward his face as his voice grows soft. "I will try.”

[seravphs]

do you know why @yinyuedijun deactivated??

Hi! Mao just needs a little time away but her fic archive is @yuexiaoshuo if you wanted to read something!

[seravphs]

first encounter

from the end of the f***ing world by my goat @m1ckeyb3rry