#Animal Crossing seems. FAR more appealing right now.

[jorvikzelda]

Legitimately help why is my comment on SSO’s instagram doing numbers. If I knew it would get 90 likes and 4 people, two of whom are Elli and Helena, were gonna reply, I would have like. idk worded it better 😭

[after-witch]

No Strings to Secure You [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: No Strings to Secure You [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: You push too far and get sent to a white room with white walls.

Word count: 2000ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, food deprivation, chastisement, abusive behavior

The push and pull of captivity is not something you could have prepared yourself for, really. Could anyone? 

There’s the pull, that intoxicating desire to behave for him. To do what he says, to act how he wants, to make things easier on yourself and him in not-so-equal measure. 

There’s the push. That feeling you’ve buried deep inside you but can never fully wash away. The need to get away, to never give in, to pound against the walls and scream and tell him to shove his stupid rules up his ass.

No matter how many times you pushed, it never seemed to get you anywhere.

But the pull? When you followed the pull, it was a different story. He becomes softer. Kinder. More prone to agree to your requests, like asking for new books, or a warmer blanket, or a stuffed animal similar to the childhood one you’ll probably never see again.

That’s where you are now, you think; deep inside the pull. Yet there’s no telling when that push will come rearing its ugly, primal head back into your life.

--

“It’s not smut,” you insist, soft voice raising just a little.  You keep your head down out of stubborness or embarrassment,  you’re not entirely sure which. 

“It is.” There’s no question or argument in his tone. “There are plenty of other books that are more appropriate, angel.”

“But…” You know what you should do here. You should agree, thank him, and tell him the name of a different book to procure. It would be sensible. It would be what he wants. And maybe that last part is what edges you away from it. “But you said I could ask for any book I like. And I like that book series.”

“I’ll find you a different book,” he tells you. “One that is more suitable.”

Stubborn, stuffy breath comes out through your nose. “I want that book.”

“No,” he says simply. You should let it go. You should.

“That’s not fair.” You lick your lips. You feel pressure starting to build inside your chest. Familiar pressure, a push. “It’s a book. You’re being--you’re being ridiculous.”

“Apologize.” It’s not a request.

Push or pull? You can make a choice here. Or maybe you can’t, and that’s the worst part of it all. All of your choices are made for you, whether by Overhaul or your own damaged psyche.

“No.”

You cross your arms. 

“Apologize,” he repeats, more firmly. And, oh, you should. 

“No!” Louder, now. You stand up and your fingers shake as you grip the edge of the sterile hospital-style tray he serves breakfast, lunch and dinner on. The food is just as appealing--which is to say, it is often not: mostly overcooked vegetables, bland proteins, plain white rice. 

You asked him, before, if you could have something different. Like the food you used to eat. He said no, even when you compromised, asked not for a whole meal, but just a little treat. He still said no.

And now you’re the one saying no again, and it feels right, it feels fair.

“I’ll ask you one more time.” The patience has left his tone almost entirely. You know this. “Apologize or there will be consequences.”

Your breath comes in heaving. It leaves in a huff, spit flying, as you grab the tray of food and throw it as hard as you can across the room.

It clatters and food splatters and your ears ring from the sound and the hot, heavy pressure in the air.

Overhaul’s chair screeches as he stands up.

Tightness chokes your throat and you swallow. You should do what he says, you should. But it’s not fair. It’s not right. 

You force yourself to look up at him, and oh. He’s furious. Livid. There’s something sharp in his voice as he spits out the words:

“I warned you.”

--

The hallway you’re walking down is completely unfamiliar. You didn’t even know it existed, yet here it is: connected to Overhaul’s bedroom through a plain door hidden inside of a bookcase. 

He stops in front of a door with a glass window towards the top and opens it with a key, and there’s nowhere to run when he silently commands you inside with a gesture.

The room is small--white floors, white walls. Narrow overhead lights. There is a mattress on the floor with no sheets at all. A metal toilet and a metal sink. Your eyes scan the room for something, anything else; but it’s just walls. There isn’t even a light switch.

You turn, eyes wide, heart feeling like it wants to leap out your throat.

Before you can speak, Overhaul takes a step backward and fills the doorway.

“You’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future. II thought you were past such untoward behavior. It seems not. We’ll see if your behavior improves and revisit your… living arrangements then.”

Part of you wants to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. The other part of you prevails, staying stubbornly silent, refusing to give him what you think he wants: pitiful tears and apologies.

After a moment, he steps back and shuts the door. You can see him through the little glass window, which slides open before he speaks. “When I feel you are ready to apologize and mean it, you can come out.”

The glass window shuts. 

The overhead lights flicker on.

You plop down on the mattress and hug your knees to your chest. It’s… a relief, isn’t it? To be away from him? At least when you’re here, you won’t be subject to his stupid rules. 

This suits you just fine, then.

You say so, even, to the white walls. 

They don’t answer.

--

There’s a hinged slot on the bottom of the door, and your first meal--it must be dinnertime--is silently slid through. There’s a glass of water, a cup of your vitamins and pills that you hate to take but always have before, under Overhaul’s watchful eye. There’s some sort of mush-looking porridge that is a step down from even the overcooked vegetables you usually get.

You drink the water, and taste the mush. It’s impossibly bland, and you decide not to bother with it; you’ll wait for breakfast, which always has vegetables.  The vitamins remain untouched.

Nothing is said when the tray is taken. Not that you expected it.

When the lights go out later, you’re startled at first--you were standing up looking for cracks or tiles or anything to count. Quickly, you feel your way back to the mattress and curl up. For the first time, you miss your bedroom--just a little. You miss the comfortable warm blanket, and your stuffed animals. 

Sleep comes fitfully, with the loss of routine.

In the morning, the lights come back on with a loud buzz and a breakfast tray is pushed through the bottom of the door.

A glass of water. A cup of pills. A bowl of mush. 

You drink the water. You force down half the mush because your stomach is growling, although the texture is so awful that you gag a little. Again, you refuse the vitamins, leaving them there for the tray to be taken away.

Boredom sets in quickly. Normally, you’d be reading a book. Or doodling on some paper. You think about the books, running some of the stories through your head; but it’s different than reading the words on the page.

Lunch comes. 

A glass of water. A cup of pills. And a bowl of--what else, apparently: mush. You leave the pills untouched. Fuck him, and his pills and his rules and his stupid room.

Dinner comes--at least you think it’s been a few hours--but the tray does not.

You pound on the door.

“Don’t I get dinner?”

Nobody answers. Is there anyone who can even hear you? The hallway was empty, before. 

Your stomach growls until you fall asleep.

The morning comes, and you practically skid your knees sliding over to the tray when you hear it being slid through the door.

A glass of water. A cup of pills. And… nothing else. No mush. No veggies. Your stomach complains, but you have nothing to answer it with. So you gulp down the water and leave the damned pills, and go back to your mattress and try not to cry.

Lunch is the same. Water. Pills. No food. You refuse to take the pills.

This time, you can’t avoid the tears.

When your dinner tray comes with nothing but water and a cup of all-too-familiar pills, you pound on the door.

“This is fucked up! You can’t starve me! You can’t--”

The lights go off without warning.

How long do they stay out? You fall asleep eventually, wishing you had something to cling to--a pillow, a stuffed bear--but you’re stuck here in this unfamiliar room in the unfamiliar dark.

The lights aren’t on when you wake up. You start to imagine things in the dark. Not monsters, but patterns. Little swirls of rainbow lights, like the kind you sometimes saw as a kid.

When the lights do mercifully turn on, your breakfast tray is pushed through. A glass of water, a cup of pills. You miss the mush.

Hours pass slowly, stretched with nothing but your thoughts and hunger.

Your stomach growling punctuates the boredom, but not by much. You’re even missing the bland food Overhaul served you before; vegetables and plain rice seem like a dream. Grilled chicken, steamed fish--heaven.

It must be days that you don’t eat. It must be. 

You can’t hold out forever. Who can? The room is starting to drive you a little mad, you think. Nothing to do. Nothing to see. No one to talk to…

Finally, one morning, when the tray comes through, you swallow down the pills. The tray is taken away without comment, and the hours until lunch seem more endlessly than usual.

You’ve taken to picking at a loose thread you plucked out of the mattress during the long hours of the day. It’s something to do, at least. Not that it helps much.

When the tray comes through in the afternoon, there is a bowl of mush there. It takes you a few moments to register it; when you do, you don’t hesitate to dig in, eagerly swallowing the warm, bland oatmeal-like bowl with a gusto that would have been ridiculous a few days ago. 

Your fingers hesitate at the cup of pills, but you never want to be this hungry again, so you take them.

“Overhaul?” You ask, when the door opens for your tray to be removed. “I-I’m sorry I acted out, I’m ready to come out now.”

You did what he wanted, didn’t you? Took your pills. Apologized. Surely he would forgive you now.

But no one answers.

Eventually it becomes its own routine, really, although it’s nothing as luxurious as your old one. You miss that routine--the nice, clean clothes picked out for you every morning; the fresh food every meal; the books, the drawing, the little things in your room.  You even miss the conversations.

You ought to have appreciated the things he gave you. That’s what you realize over the days, sitting on the mattress, picking endlessly at the thread until your fingers bleed a little.

You ought to have appreciated his presence, really. The way he let you ramble on about the books he gave you, the way he complimented your drawings. 

Was it worth it? You think one evening, waiting for the lights to turn off. It was just a book. You could have had others. Maybe it was too dirty, maybe it was a bad book, to cause all this trouble.

Maybe he was right.

--

You don’t know when it happens, but the door does open.

The light that comes in is so harsh that you cover your eyes for  what must be minutes. Then there are gloved hands on your wrists, pulling you up and off the mattress on unsteady legs.

He doesn’t stop pulling until you’re out of the room, and the cool air of the hallway is both welcoming and dizzying in equal measures.

“I--I can come out now?” You ask, still squeezing your eyes shut, blinking rapidly as you try to get them used to the light.

“Yes.”

It’s the most beautiful word you’ve heard in ages. Well. The only word you’ve heard in ages.

He leads you back down the hall, back through his bedroom, and if it weren’t for his grip on your wrist, you would’ve leapt clear across the room and flopped on your bed like a child. 

Instead of letting go, he leads you to your en-suite bathroom. 

Ah. You hadn’t properly washed in um, a while. The occasional attempts to clean yourself with your hands using the sink next to the toilet notwithstanding.

“Go on,” he says. His voice is mild, testing.

You scamper into the bathroom without complaint. It’s familiar and lovely and you missed every bit of it. 

There’s a set of fresh, clean clothes laid out on the counter. Your favorite soap and shampoo set in the shower. You wash yourself three times, until the water is clear and your skin is almost raw from scrubbing clean. 

You dry yourself and dress yourself and stand in the doorway, head down, waiting for him to tell you what to do now. You don’t want him to get mad--you don’t want to go back in that room.

After a few moments, Overhaul speaks.

“Come here.”

Your heart flutters. Will he yell at you? Tell you that this was just so you could get clean, and lead you back?

But you should do as he says. And you do, legs trembling, glance unable to meet his gaze. Instead you look at the walls, covered with your own drawings, plus a few pretty prints he gifted you. You look at your bed, and its comfortable floral blanket, and the stuffed rabbit sitting on your pillow. Just where you left it before--before the room.

His gloved hand grips your chin and turns it towards him.

“Eyes on me,” he says, so you listen. He tilts your chin up, making it even harder to look away. Not that you would--you want to listen.

“What did you learn?” His voice is soft but there’s an underlying firmness to it. A firmness that you want to walk on--it’s like solid ground after so much uncertainty. 

“That…” Your voice is still hoarse and you swallow, coughing. “That you know what’s best?”

He might be smiling behind the mask. You can’t tell.

“That I  know what’s best about what?”

You don’t dare look away from him. But your fingers find the soft fabric of your fresh, clean dress. It’s one of your favorites--did he pick it out on purpose? Guilt begins to roil in your stomach alongside anxiety. 

You think over the words before you answer. “About… what’s best for me.”

He doesn’t stop there. “In what way?”

“In-in… I mean… in everything?” 

You think he likes it--that you stammer over your words. He hums, and it sounds like pleasure.

He lets your chin go and peels off the glove, dropping it in the trashcan before he snaps on a fresh one.

“Very good.”

The breakfast tray is steaming hot with steamed vegetables, white rice, eggs. A cup of pills in the corner, waiting for you to swallow them down. The eggs are overcooked but they might as well be caviar from the way you begin to eat them without complaint, humming, feeling grateful that you’ve got a good meal in you. 

Were you ever really someone who argued with him? Someone who felt pulled to rebel, to complain, to feel that the treatment you received here was anything less than gracious? 

Whoever that someone was, they need to be gone; they must be. That person can stay behind in the white room, for all you care. 

After you finish your food,  you swallow down your pills, one by one, as Overhaul watches. 

Maybe in a few days, when you’re sure that he’s not mad, you’ll ask him for a new book. This time, you’ll let him pick the title. 

He knows best, after all.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 3/8

Summary - After a traffic accident reader is left with no memory of her life with Ruben, who desperately tries to get her to remember him.

Enjoy!

You spent most days inside because your recovery required it. You still had some aches and pain in your body, let alone in your head, so taking things easy was highly recommended by your doctors. You couldn't stand it though, being trapped in the house like an animal. On top of that Ruben was leaving you. He had previously made the choice to put his career on pause. He told you that he couldn't possibly play football knowing you were in the hospital. Now that you were out it was time for him to return. Back to his old life, hoping that you would do the same.

"My assistant will come by around three o'clock to check on you. If you need something,  anything, don't be afraid to tell him and he'll get it for you."

"Okay." You nodded.

"Alright, I'll see you later tonight."

"Tonight." You confirmed.

Ruben lingered in the doorway, watching you.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, it's just..."

"What?"

"It's nothing." He muttered on his way to shut the front door.

You crossed your arms. "Ruben, if there is something you wish for me to know you should tell me."

He scratched his beard. "Fine. Usually when we say goodbye..."

"Yes?"

"Well, usually when we say goodbye you also kiss me."

You batted your eyes. "Oh."

"Obviously we won't do that now." He was quick to add. "But it's something that we usually do, like on a regular."

"I see....okay."

"Okay?"

You nodded. "If it's something that we usually do....the doctors say that old habits might help with my memory and..."

"Of course..." Ruben coughed. "Your memory."

Silence fell. It was awkward. You took a step forward. Ruben seemed hesitant at first but removed his gym bag that hung across his shoulder.

"You sure about this?" He asked, tilting his head down to look at you.

"I'm sure." You nodded. Ruben wasn't the type of guy you would usually go for, but you could definitely see the appeal in him. He was typically handsome. Well built, charming and gentle. Any girl would want to be kissed by a man like him, maybe even you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his breath warm against the side of your face. Ruben had gone for the kiss and to your suprise he wasn't shy about it. He sort of got lost in it and so did you. There was even some tounge in there, more from Ruben than yourself.

"I get it." You smiled. "You haven't kissed your wife in a while, no?"

He shook his head, his forhead resting against yours. "No."

You remained like that, foreheads resting against each other.

"Did you um...did you feel...or remember anything?"

You stepped back. "No. I'm sorry Ruben."

He shook his head. "It's okay. The doctors said it would come to you sooner or later."

"Right."

"I should probably..." Ruben backed away, searching for his gym bag on the floor. He draped it over his shoulder and returned to the door. "I'll see you later tonight."

"See you." You waved.

He nodded and disappeared through the door. The house fell silent as you were left behind.

What now, you asked. Whatever the doctors recommended you weren't having it. You were no animal. You were not staying at home.

You had always been a sharp and independent woman as young. Beetje stront (Little shit) your dad used to call you. The many books in your room indicated that you were even sharper than you thought. They all came from the same place, the library of the University of Manchester. Maybe that is where you were supposed to be? Maybe that's where you would find yourself again?

By foot you got as far as to the city. For some reason you remembered how to get there, but then all the traffic and busy pedestrians seemed to throw you off. You suddenly found yourself in a part of town that you didn't recognize. You tried to use your phone to navigate your way home, but the streets all looked unfamiliar and you couldn't remember the name of the street that you lived on.

"Shit."

Panicked and disoriented, you wandered the streets for hours, unsure of where you were or how to get back home. Just when you were about to give up hope, somone called your name.

"Y/N! Is that you?"

It was a woman, waving to you from across the street.

"Y/N! Oh my god, it's so good to see you!" The woman exclaimed, rushing across the traffic to hug you. "What are you doing here? Why are you all alone?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The woman's expression faltered, her red lips parting in astonishment.

"I'm sorry I....Ruben told me you were out of the hospital and so I thought..."

"You know Ruben?" You asked.

"Of course I do. He and I used to...never mind. What are you doing here, are you shopping?"

"No, I'm lost and I can't find my way back home."

"I see." The woman observed you skeptically. She wore a blue dress, a long coat and a pair of high heels to go with it. She was really beautiful, you thought.

"Well let's get you back home then." She said and raised her hand to alert a taxi.

"Thank you." You said, feeling obligated to explain the situation with your memory.

The woman, who's name was Rachel, told you not to worry, or be embarrassed. "I'm a friend of Ruben's." She reassured.

"Fuck Y/N!" 

It was arpund six o'clock in the afternoon when the taxi reached the house. Ruben had already returned home from training by then.

"Where were you?" He asked. "Didn't I tell you to stay inside?" Ruben was both relieved and angry to see you. Apprently his assistant had been quick to alert him of your disappearance, forcing Ruben to leave training early. He hugged you tightly, tears of relief streaming down his face. "I was so worried about you," He said, voice shaking.

"I'm, sorry."

You didn't really understand his intense reaction to your brief disappearance.

"Rachel, I don't know how to thank you." He said, moving on to kiss the red haired woman on the cheeks.

"Well firstly you can stop being such a stranger Ruben. If I would have known that Y/N was in need of getting out more I would have taken her out myself."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you. But the doctors say that she needs to rest."

You rolled your eyes hearing Ruben talk about you, making life decisions for you.

"If you say so. Just know that I'm one call away." Rachel waved goodbye. Once she left it was just the two of you again, you, Ruben and your big house.

"I'm going to bed." You announced and disappeared upstairs.

Ruben seemed like he needed time alone to cool off. You understood his concern for you but why did he feel the need to keep you locked up? A trip to the city wouldn't kill you.

Later there was a knock on your door. It was Ruben, looking ready for bed himself.

"We need to talk." He said.

You stepped aside for him to enter what used to be his bedroom too.

"What happened today can't happen again." He said.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N, you left the house without telling me. How was I supposed to know where you went, if you were even alright."

"I'm alright Ruben, I can take care of myself."

"No you can't." He said, raising a finger for you to stay silent and just listen to him. "You still have no memory, of me or us. You couldn't even remember the adress back to our house. I can't let you go outside knowing you might be lost somewhere, wandering the streets of Manchester. That much you must understand?"

You nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry."

He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I just don't know what I would do if somthing happened to you again."

"It won't." You reassured. Seeing him like this, all shook up. It did somthing to you. Inside.

"Come here." He said, but it was more him coming to you, holding you tight, afraid of letting go.

"I did remember something." You mumbled, from beneath the pit of his strong arms.

"You what?" Ruben let go, holding arms length instead.

You smiled. "I remembered something."

"You did, well w...what was it?"

You sat down on the foot of your bed, recalling the day. "I remember wanting to go somewhere, somewhere in the city."

Ruben knelt down before you. "Okay, do you remember where or what this place looked like?"

"Yes, I think it was a school. The school you told me where I did my research. I saw myself in a lab, measuring things."

"That's great Y/N. You're starting to get memories of your life back."

"Yes, but I think what triggered it was going outside, facing the world, you know?"

"Y/N." Ruben looked worried. "The doctors said..."

"I know what the doctors said, I was there. But what if I could leave the house two or even once a week. Would it be that bad?"

Ruben looked to contemplate. If the choice was his alone he wouldn't recommend it, but somehow he knew that the choice was yours and that he shouldn't stop you.

"Okay." He nodded. "I'll call the doctors tomorrow, ask them if it's possible. If it is, then I'll arrange for someone to take you to the University twice a...."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You rushed to hug him, his frame too solid to be moved by your sudden ambush. It felt good, hugging Ruben.

"You should get some sleep." He whispered, a hand stroking your head.

You tilted up to look at him. He was already looking down at you. Neither of you said anything although there was something you felt drawn to do. You rose to stand on your toes. Ruben caught you with a hand between your shoulder blades. The kiss was rushed but sensed long after your lips parted.

"Goodnight Ruben."

He smiled and backed away towards the door. "Goodnight Y/N. Sleep tight."

[more-than-a-princess]

EVADE / he doesn't mean it, such a sudden grasp away from what was once considered a walk as casual as it could be in their current situation. ever since the tragedy, he supposes he has become far too attuned to the sounds around them, a little more wary to the shadow he has caught in the peripheral in his vision, the gentle crunch that sounds far too behind to be either his or sonia's own, so much so that byakuya twists for his own sudden detour. a hand on her wrist enough to guide them both to the side for a moment of security, alertness, until he can work out exactly what is going on. / aka: for one muse to pull the other into an alleyway to escape their pursuer.

An old meme that I've lost

She wasn't sure why he insisted on working with her all the time, in comparison to the other Remnants.

Well, that wasn't entirely true: Sonia had a hunch, one based entirely on superficial traits that, in her opinion, hardly elevated her to some sort of acceptability and appeal in Byakuya Togami's eyes. She was, in honesty, still Queen of Novoselic: the country still stood and it was her legal right to claim it. If only it hadn't turned into a Constitutional Monarchy (a good thing!), she wasn't so mentally and emotionally broken (a bad thing), and in the latest national polls, 57% of the surviving Novosonian citizens now demanded her return home purely for a public execution (a worse thing). That number was something both the remaining monarchists and the Future Foundation were working to lower, but much of the country didn't want to listen and she was the worst advocate for herself to begin with. Bottles and beds were far more appealing than trying to repair her tattered reputation.

Still, it had been in the best interest of the former Remnants to work alongside members of the Future Foundation, at least according to Makoto Naegi. To help them when their minds and bodies failed, to encourage and support their transition back into society. Togami, about as proficient with manual labor as she was, seemed ill-suited as her partner. Today, in an attempt to keep Sonia from the kitchen and the cabin repairs (she'd already made a mess of both), her friends had kindly suggested she spend her morning in the island's library, and so she'd set off, the former Ultimate Heir accompanying her like a shadow.

Just as well: she felt quite certain he'd cast one over the day, at least once he saw her entirely frivolous choice of reading and watching materials: romances not unlike the ones Toko Fukawa had once written, and anime targeted at children with happily-ever-afters. But they, unlike her previous literary diet of horror and true crime, did not fill her with nightmares later on. Or at least, they didn't contribute to the onslaught of memories of her time following Junko's ideals. For that alone, she'd visit the library frequently to amass novels, comics, and films.

Yet, just as they'd been minutes away from crossing the bridge to the second island, Byakuya had reached out and nearly pulled her arm out of her socket, pulling her off the main path with him. "Togami-san!" Sonia cried out, in shock and in pain, "That hurts! What is going on? The Second Island is just there-"

Another crunch, of leaves and twigs from what Sonia could tell. Her blonde eyebrows raised: had they been followed? And by whom? Most of the Future Foundation employees and her friends were busy with their own daily tasks: no one had the time, much less inclination, to pursue Byakuya Togami and Sonia Nevermind undetected. And for what? It wasn't as if they would do anything interesting anyway beyond select books and chide each other for their literary choices.

"I am going to investigate it," She told him once she'd gotten her wrist free. "Please stay here." It was a skewed sense of priorities: who would people be more upset to see harmed? A queen who nearly razed her entire country to the ground, or the leader of the Togami Corporation whose funding of the Future Foundation seemed to be what kept it, and the Earth's restoration as a whole, going? It was an easy decision for her: a good amount of the world would celebrate if she were dead. She couldn't say the same about him.

Stepping out onto the path once more, she took a step, then two, slowly and quietly as she followed the sound back along the trail. Until she came face-to-face with a pair of large, round, golden eyes. 

Well, face to knee was probably more like it, as she looked down into the red, wrinkled face. The several meters between them was comfortable enough to keep both of them out of hiding.

"Are you lost? Or perhaps lonely?" Sonia asked, her expression softening as she smiled down at the Japanese macaque that had so cleverly tracked them all the way through the main island. Kneeling down, the best she could in her sundress, she tried to look a bit less large and imposing for the grey-haired monkey who now sat on its two back legs, studying her intently.

Whose golden gaze darted towards the crossbody bag she wore. Sonia followed it, before connecting the mental dots as to why the animal found her so fascinating.

"Or you are simply hungry," Sonia nodded, opening the top flap of her bag and reaching for one of the canisters inside. "Just as well: if you have skipped breakfast, lunch will be quite a ways away. I think there is something in here that you will find delicious...like this!"

She'd rummaged long enough to pull out a small plastic sealed dish, opening the lid and reaching for some of the contents inside: two plump, ripe strawberries, from an arrangement of freshly-cut fruit Teruteru Hanamura had set out for the morning breakfast just an hour ago. She tossed them towards the animal, both pieces of fruit landing roughly halfway between them. The macaque dashed forth, seizing a strawberry and taking a large bite, juice running down its mouth, its chest, its paws. 

"That looks a little eerie, don't you think?" Sonia asked, turning her head to look at him but otherwise not moving from the spot. She'd likely scare the monkey otherwise. "I know it is juice, but it looks a bit like blood."

[mirage-of-the-virtuoso]

Darkness...

Silence...

Calm, cold, collected.

My emotions do not control me.

Control myself, and serenity will follow.

I am no one's possession.

I am no one's pawn.

The choices I make are my own.

I will take my fate into my own hands.

A figure looms high over the Dreamdark Enclave, watching from the mushrooms above. They had snuck by the guards with the help of invisibility and have found a spot among the mushrooms and twisted vines where the mortars won't detect them, where the Courtiers and their pets can't detect them.

Be still...

Be silent...

The figure - a sylvari with blue skin, white leafy hair tied back, and a pale pink glow - watched from above. By now, the Courtiers and Kennelmasters should be wrapping up whatever party they're indulging in. They seem so... normal, in terms of what Sylvari would act like. Their beliefs are just different than Dreamers. They wanted independence, individuality, to embrace the darker parts of their soul and to crumble the idealistic perfectionism into dust. They see cultish noble-esque pawns obsessed with a stone, and their enemy sees them as maddened fanatics obsessed with setting the world ablaze.

It's difficult to remain as a neutral party. A spy for neither. But his Wyld Hunt relies on communication with the Firstborn and the Pale Tree. The Nightmare Court, while considered a threat in Caledon, is far from priority.

Would he even be welcome here? Would he even belong? In the end, he must be considered a "convert" and that didn't settle with him. He's not "switching sides", and he refuses to be another's willing pawn.

I am no one's pawn...

One of the Counts tried their luck, attempted to reason with him and lure him in with promises of mental freedom and a release from the shackles of the Pale Tree.

How he wished it were that simple, to just be discontent. How wrong they were; it's not the Pale Tree that keeps him paranoid, clouded with self-doubt, unable to sleep. No... it was something else.

Breathe in... Breathe out...

The courtiers dispersed, and only a few guards lingered. Right on schedule.

The lone Dreamer drops down carefully, keeping behind vines and mushrooms, ever-vigilant for any sign of detection. As needed, he used his Mantras to quickly tear apart mortars and burst blossoms. With the help of his Signet, his teleports, and his invisibility magic, he swiftly crossed the otherwise open clearing undetected and climbed the mushrooms on the other side. The stealth spell won't last for long, he just needs to be out of sight when it fades.

The sylvari hid amongst the nearest twisted vine, and ripped apart yet another mortar that activated with his presence. The courtiers took notice, but they shrugged it off. The mortars had apparently been going off with random animals and insects. No reason why it was different.

The trespasser took a silent breath and glanced around the corner. Still nothing out of place to them.

Now that he was on the other side to his exit, perhaps it was time to reduce their numbers...

He climbed closer to the top and began to hum an unknown melody. The sylvari left a clone behind to shatter, as one of the guards would try to investigate and by then, he would be too far to maintain it.

Before long, one of the courtiers bark at another to inform one of the Counts of a mesmer intrusion. Only one, but who knows how many more are lurking. This is sure to send them into a panic.

Another courtier or two joined in from below, overhearing the commotion. The sylvari's face began to have a suspicious grin on it. While he may not understand their appeal for senseless killing, he does understand the appeal for mind games. And what better mind game than trying to figure out if the trespasser is a Dreamer, gone rogue out of a sense of justice, or another dissident unhappy with the Grove, toying with the Court as a means of proving themselves of their usefulness.

Funny how the answer is just out of a simple boredom, spurred by a feeling of being eternally out of place.

The sylvari hurried along and climbed to his exit. Behind him, various clones were shattering and drawing attention.

Usually, he doesn't jump the gun and lure someone early. But he's particularly stressed and they just happen to be there. Wrong place, wrong time, poor unfortunate souls.

Once he makes it up there, he turns to the chest he had made use of up there and pulled out a pistol and sword hidden inside. The first courtier to show their face got taken out right between the eyes with a bullet. The second and third were startled, calling a warning before being silenced with one shot each. Fourth, fifth, and sixth drew their weapons, only to be caught up in a large circle and inflicted with various phantom sensation of chills, poisoning, and sudden weakness.

One of the veterans came from the rear, greatsword in hand, only to find the corpses of their fallen allies on the ground.

And a haunting melody being hummed from the lone sylvari mesmer.

The mask the trespasser wore, crafted to look obnoxiously happy, pissed the courtier off. With a battle cry, they lunged, clashed blades with the mesmer, and was taken by surprised by the pain of the mesmer's blade.

As they lay bleeding on the ground, they demanded to know their identity. With their final breath, they got their wish.

The mask came off, but held so the mask was shielding the tresspasser's face still from any stragglers bringing up the rear.

It was the Valiant that tricked and killed Renvari with Caithe. The one known as Chrysallus.

What was he doing here?? Did the Pale Tree send him?!

A group of courtiers stood by the mushrooms, and the one Chrys only knew as the "Duke of Terror" walked closer, rifle in hand.

When asked what he wanted, Chrys distorted his voice and replaced the mask, saying that he wanted nothing. He was bored and they interrupted his period of solitude. He said they had a choice: either he can use this spot as a place to relax without interruption and therefore spare them the trouble of replacing more courtiers and relocating, or he would come back during the day and destroy the entire camp.

What guarantee did they have that this mesmer would keep his word? The most the sylvari offered was this: "See for yourself for two nights. Leave me unharmed, and I'll see to it that you are undisturbed by Dreamers. I only wish for my mind to be at peace."

The Duke told him that his request is laughable at best, and that there was nothing stopping him from killing the trespasser here and now.

"I'll take that as a no, then?"

The simple question was laced with an unsettling calmness, sending an odd chill down the spines of some of the newer courtiers.

"Suit yourself, I suppose. Should you change your mind on my offer..." The mesmer tapped the chest beside him. "Just leave me a sign of a peace offering. You have 24 hours. After that, what harm comes to your camp is on your hands."

With that, a couple of the feral hounds snapped free of their leashes and lunged at the mesmer, only to have him distort, then shatter, then disappear off the edge of the cliff.

A courtier hurried over to see where he had gone, but by then, there was no trace of him.

Two squads were sent out to search for the mesmer, but by morning, only three courtiers returned, half-scared out of their wits and insistent that "the Siren" was coming for them, that they were next.

Impressed by the display of showmanship and profiency at mental torture, the Duke reconsidered, and awaited the so-called "Siren" upon the high ledges of the Enclave.

And sure enough, he returned, as promised. The Duke asked why the mesmer expressed discontent with both the Grove and the Court. Were their goals not the same? To break free of Ventari's Tablet and cut off from the Pale Tree?

"No. As I've said previously, I only wanted some peace of mind. Silence has it's benefits, but I much prefer to be an observer. The background noise helps with collecting my thoughts. No offense to the Court, but I am ill-suited for them as I am for the Grove. I'm better off on my own."

The Duke of Terror told him that, should he ever change his mind and wish to be a full member of the Court, to only say the word and reveal his identity. That he earned his two nights of solitude.

"Siren" was expressed his gratitude, but warned that this doesn't mean a permanent alliance. It was just fortunate that the Dreamers wouldn't come near this place because of the Court.

[luigi-mcdingle]

a while back, out of sheer morbid curiosity, i went back to beta version 1.7.3 of minecraft (the earliest version i could find new records of people playing) yknow, to see what was different and if it was still any good that far back it was. um. not? i mean i guess i see the appeal but i couldn't play without the ability to sprint, no end, no enchanting, no hunger? but that's just me, again i see the appeal then, again out of morbid curiosity, i upgraded to version 1.0.0, expecting a similar experience i now have 142 hours on my 1.0.0 world. | v

this version of minecraft is, compared to today's vision of minecraft, simple so many things we tend to take for granted aren't there, like stained glass, hoppers, maps, item frames, villages, horses, stone walls... you get the point

i didn't expect to put more than an hour or so into this world before going back to my heavily-modded 1.16.5 world or making a new 1.20 world, but something about it just kept me entranced there were simple goals and simple ways to reach it, but the basic gameplay was just so fun

i've always thought modern minecraft was kinda bloated, and this really cemented that feeling; we didn't need frogs or ocean monuments or horses or redstone comparators or any of the stuff that has been added since that time

yeah, it'd be nice for some of the modern quality of life features to be available like pressing ctrl to sprint or sheep being able to regrow their wool, but it's not needed minecraft became popular because the concept is perfect as is; your imagination really fuels things before i realized i was having so much fun, i was doing things i had never done before in my thousands of hours of minecraft, like building functional mob grinders, mining out slime chunks, and making elaborate redstone contraptions

(the walls of the lower room in this pic ^ are made of mushroom blocks... that i had to manually push into the room one by one with pistons because silk touch only gave solid brown mushroom blocks, no red ones) when i decided i was getting bored of this world, i went to good ol curseforge and downloaded about a hundred mods for 1.16.5 and played that... for maybe five hours, then i went right back to 1.0.0. yeah, i know, those are kinda polar opposites in terms of content and bloat, but it says something, right?

(yes that's the animal crossing train station) the one thing i ended up doing in this world that i had never done, that i honestly thought id never do, was go to the end and kill the enderdragon. yeah, in thousands of hours playing this game, i never once beat it. id always make a world, dick around for a while, then stop playing and eventually come back and start the whole process again... that or id play on multiplayer servers. remember mineplex? i should ramble about that one day...

i had known about the ending poem, especially since the whole thing with it becoming public domain (have you read the author's blog post about that situation? where he talks about how he took a bunch of shrooms in the woods and God told him what to write, and the end poem was the result?) but i never read it because... well, i just never felt like it, really. reading it for the first time after my long playthrough of this simple, fun version of minecraft that i so quickly grew to love so much was... something else. id say you should read the poem (it's available online, obviously) but it really doesn't work nearly as well without the experience of a full minecraft playthrough backing it up.

all this talk and im not really sure what my point in all this is. i guess it's something along the lines of "you don't need everything to enjoy life. limitation breeds creativity, and simplicity can bring happiness." or something. i dunno, it's fuckin' minecraft. maybe try making a new world. and having fun.

oh yeah, also i never really got that "creepy feeling" most people seem to get in these older versions of minecraft. i got a little creeped out while strip mining but that's just me not liking corridors.

[kazuhasbunny]

Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.

You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.

He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?

Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.

The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.

Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.

Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.

"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.

"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.

The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?

"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...

"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"

The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.

Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.

And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.

"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.

"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.

A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.

"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.

The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.

"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.

Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:

"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"

Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"

Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.

You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.

Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.

"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.

All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?

Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.

"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"

All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO

(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)

THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him

AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh

[august-bleeds-red]

Texas Heat

Alpha!Tommy x omega!Reader (AFAB). When you find yourself trapped within the Hewitt family’s web of murder, violence and pain, the last thing you expect to do is fall in love.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

~

The Texas sun beats mercilessly down on the back of your neck, the air thick and slow as dark molasses. You tied your sweater around your waist, but even that was too much for your sweating skin, so now it just hangs limply from your fingers.

 You manage to hitch a lift from a family of three on a cross-state road trip – the parents were both betas, the little girl in the back unpresented. You tell them you’re heading back to college from visiting your family, that your car packed up some three miles back. You also tell them you’re a beta. Two truths and a lie.

 They pull into a small gas station in Travis County called Cele Community Centre to fill up, while you step inside the sore to ask to use the phone. A middle-aged woman with cats-eye spectacles stands behind the counter, a couple of leather-clad bikers sitting at a table littered with beer bottles.

 The phone’s busted, but when you explain about your car, she offers a different option. Her brother’s got a tow truck – he could go pick up your car and bring it back for repair. It’s too good an offer to refuse, so you wave goodbye to the beta family and take a seat in the diner. The woman – Luda May Hewitt, she introduces herself – gives you a soda on the house and asks you about yourself. You tell her about your parents, your brother in the army, your little sister about to graduate high school. By the time her brother arrives – a unkempt, bespectacled man she calls Monty – you feel as though you’ve been talking to a matronly aunt for the past hour. She’s kind, with good old-fashioned Southern values, and so when she asks if you’d like to join them for supper, you accept. Monty says your car needs a new valve or something, which he has back at the homestead, so you hop in the cab of his truck next to Luda May.

 The Hewitt family home is a large farmhouse, with sprawling fields surrounding and a dilapidated garage. Monty parks up in the front yard and disappears, presumably to find the missing piece for your car. You shoulder your bag and follow Luda May inside the house. It’s not particularly clean, but your mother raised you to be polite, so you accept some sweet tea and some homemade biscuits.

 Shortly, another man appears in the kitchen – this one younger and more well-presented than Monty - who introduces himself as Sheriff Hoyt. A rough, brutish scent of alpha pheromones follows him through the door, but you know by instinct its not from him.

 “Tommy,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at a hulking figure beyond the doorway. “Come say hello to our guest.”

 The person who steps into the room has to be the largest man you’ve never seen. Not only is he tall – at least six and a half feet – but he’s also broad; wide shoulders, muscular arms, and a chest like a barrel. Despite the suppressants you’ve been careful to keep concealed in your bag, your glands tingle pleasantly as his scent washes over you. Your nose recognises earth, leather and sweat, but your finer-tuned olfactory senses catch hints of sandalwood, charcoal, and the unmistakable metallic tang of blood. You contribute this to the butcher’s apron he’s wearing tied around his thick waist – the dark brown stains a clear indication of animal slaughter. While this doesn’t exactly strike you as comforting, you can’t deny his scent is . . . appealing.

 You focus on his face for just a moment, not wanting to stare. His dark hair is long and wavy, most of his face concealed beneath a crude leather mask, revealing only his eyes, forehead and a small glimpse of chapped lips. The space where his nose would be beneath the mask is strangely flat, leading you to suspect some kind of physical deformity. His shadowed eyes catch yours and you look away in embarrassment.

 “This here’s Thomas, my boy,” Luda May says. “Tommy, meet Y/N.”

 “Hey,” you rise to your feet and hold out a hand. Even at your full height, you barely come up to his chest. “Nice to meet you, Thomas.”

 He doesn’t speak or move to shake your hand, but his right-hand fingers flex at his side, so you can tell he wants to. Moreover, you can smell it on him. The pheromones he’s giving off betray his interest, and your face flushes at the thought that such an impressive alpha’s attention is directed at you. Eventually, you lower your hand and return to your seat, taking a sip of tea to hide your awkwardness.

 “So,” Hoyt says, sitting down opposite you and placing his hat on the table. “Y/N, what are you?”

 You know what he’s trying to say, even if the question comes across as a little rude.

 “I’m a beta, sir,” you say.

 “Seems the whole dang state’s beta these days,” he says, leaning back and accepting a glass of tea from Luda May. “Tommy’s pretty much the only alpha ‘round these parts, and as for omegas, forget it.”

 Praying that your suppressants are doing their job, you nod along with his words and try not to focus on Thomas, who’s still standing like a full-door draft excluder in the corridor. You wonder if his senses are strong enough to tell that you’re lying. Surely if they were, he’d say something, wouldn’t he? Such a big strong alpha like him, wouldn’t be able to help himself.

 Big strong alpha . . .

 The thought makes you shiver slightly, and you notice Thomas shift where he stands. Covering your neck as casually as you can with one hand, you pretend to be intently interested in what Hoyt is saying. As he’s illustrating the hardships of being the county’s only sheriff, Monty appears, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

 “Well, hope you didn’t have nowhere to be anytime soon, ‘cause that tin can sure ain’t going without a new carburetor.”

 Your heart sinks – the car was a gift from your parents when you got into UT, and you’d taken good care of it since. How had it sustained so much damage without you realising?

 “D’you know where I can get a new one?”

 He blows his cheeks out. “Nowhere ‘round here. Next town, maybe; ‘bout twenty miles north.”

 You mentally count the small handful of notes folded in your wallet – your mom had given you $50 to get back to college, enough for fuel and food along the way, plus extra to stay in a motel. Certainly not enough for such a hefty repair.

 “Course,” Hoyt says, a strange smile playing at the corner of his lips, “Uncle Monty’d be more’n happy to drive through for one tomorrow, wouldn’t ya, Monty?”

 Monty nods slowly. “Be my pleasure.”

 A strange tension has fallen over the small room, setting the hairs on the back of your neck a-prickle. Hoyt’s eyes are burning into you with a fierce intensity, almost . . . hunger, Monty bearing a smile, too leery to be comforting. You’re wondering if you’ve made a mistake in coming here, when Thomas moves from the shadows, his scent passing over you. Your shoulders drop a little, his presence proving an inexplicable reassurance to you. You know it’s your hormones talking; with such an alpha nearby, you’re safe. It takes a nudge from the logical side of your brain to remind you that biology is not fact, and you could be very, very far from safe with these people.

 You clear your throat, mouth suddenly dry.

 “Well, that’s awful kind of you. Is there, um . . . a motel or something I could stay at tonight?”

 “Motel?” Luda May laughs. “Don’t be so silly, honey – you’ll stay here.”

 You turn to look at her, her warm, motherly gaze refilling some of the certainly draining from you. Maybe you’re just being paranoid. After all, you’re a young woman – an omega, no less – so it’s no wonder that Hoyt and Monty might act strangely around you, whether they realise it or not. As for Thomas, well . . .

 “I don’t want to be a bother, ma’am.”

 “Oh hush, you’re no bother at all, and call me Luda.” She takes an old apron from a hook on the wall and nods towards the door. “Tommy’ll show you to the spare room and then you can help me start dinner.”

 Thomas looks as surprised by the idea of being alone with you as you are, his gargantuan posture stiffening. His eyes flit from Luda May to you, unsure of what to do.  

 “Go on, boy, m’sure she don’t bite,” Hoyt chuckles.

 But does he? Your mind races as you lift your bag and follow Thomas from the kitchen. His heavy footsteps make the floorboards shake as he ascends the stairs, decidedly not looking anywhere in your direction. The room he takes you to is small, barely more than a box room, with a narrow cot bed, a chest of drawers, and a dirty sink built into the wall. The white ceramic has been long since hidden beneath a layer of brown grime, and the light from the window is filtered through what looks like years of dirt.

 You turn your head to thank Thomas, but the words die on your tongue when you see how close he is. His chest is heaving, and you suspect he’s . . . smelling you. Shit. You remember the mace your mom forced you to take with you, stowed safely away at the bottom of your pack. There’s no way you could get to it before he could grab you. He’s so big – his hands could easily encompass your entire head – you’re sure he could do irreparable damage without breaking so much as a sweat. His eyes – how had you not noticed how blue they are? – are fixed on you, all trace of shyness gone. You raise a hand – to do what, you’ve no idea – and stifle a shriek when he takes hold of your arm with surprising agility. Your blood stills as he lifts your wrist to his face, the air whistling through his nostrils beneath the mask as he breathes in your scent. He must know – there’s no way he can’t. He must either be the strongest alpha you’ve ever encountered, or on the brink of his rut, to detect your omega scent through your suppressants. Or both.

 Part of you wants to run, to scream for help, but you can’t; your legs won’t move.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, though you’re not entirely sure what you’re pleading for. Your eyes meet for one long, electrifying moment.

 “Tommy, get down here! We got trespassers!”

 Thomas drops your hand like it’s scalding hot, disappearing from the room and down the stairs after Hoyt’s harsh commands. You stand rooted to the spot, your heart beating a brand against your ribcage, and the bed creaks ominously beneath you as you drop down onto it. Fishing in your bag, you pull out the thin blister pack of pills, swallowing one dry. You have enough to get you safely back to Austin – you’ll just have to hope your stay here is a short one.

~

Comments are greatly appreciated because I’m a needy little trashbag.

[yan-twst]

hi! could i please request yan azul, kalim, leona and malleus with their darling figuring out abt them,, yknow being yanderes and trys to flat out look and act unappealing and/or just basically be the opposite of what theyd want in a s/o, as an attempt to try and get them off their back?? 

warnings: general yandere themes, mentions of physical violence

azul ashengrotto

the problem with azul’s attraction is that it comes from his own insecurities rather than him attaching to some aspect of his darling

perhaps they somehow reassured him when he was feeling low, perhaps they accidentally said something that soothed his insecurities- maybe it was something as simple as them always being nice to him without him ever having done anything for them; once he first gets an inkling of interest, it snowballs into an obsession and a desire to have them reassure him and keep him company

his darling starts to notice something is off when azul suddenly seems to be almost always pestering them to form a contract with him, when they can feel the tweel’s eyes on them throughout the day. it- it feels wrong to say he’s stalking them, but fuck, it sure feels like it

every day it seems to increase a little- the stalking, the pressuring, the way he’s trying to force himself closer to them, and it feels like a ticking time bomb. it’s as if every day they put off a contract or avoid him, the pressure’s building up, but they don’t know to what. but they can tell that if this goes on for longer, something is going to happen

azul notices when they stop taking as much care of themselves. they’re disheveled, hair messy and uniform wrinkled; not something bad enough that they’d get in trouble, but just so enough that it seems they’re actively trying to appear “unappealing”. too bad for them, though; in his love-addled mind, he dreams of them holding him, caressing him and telling him he’s loved, he’s good- the fact they’re not put together doesn’t affect him that much

of course, if they realize that what azul is fixated on is how they treated him and try to do the opposite of that- being rude to him, then that’s just making things go worse. azul was obsessed with them before, yes, but once they start acting rudely to him it just makes him snap

no more waiting. he was trying to get them tied up in a contract, lure them in until they were too far in and couldn’t leave him; but once they burst his little bubble by being rude to him, once they snap the fantasy version of them in his head (the fantasy version of them that’s always at his beck and call, always reassuring them and telling him how great he is, that adores all he does with no questions)- he’s suddenly craving their kindness again, and he doesn’t care how he has to get it

that really might be a fast route to getting dragged by floyd into a dorm room- azul’s room- and be confronted with a desperate azul

suddenly bombarded with questions- why did they do this? is he not enough? did they find someone else? it’s that bastard who sits next to them, isn’t it? what does he have that azul doesn’t? he can take it from him- he can be better than that guy, he promises! why isn’t he enough? why don’t they love him? why why why why-

it’s dizzying, and they realize just a bit too late the door is locked- and it’s going to stay that way. azul might regain his composure, but going back to his usual self from his little crybaby side doesn’t mean he’s suddenly letting them go; no matter in what state he’s in, making them his is all he has on his mind

kalim al-asim

the problem with kalim is that it’s so hard to tell his love is something far worse, far more dangerous, bordering into obsession until it’s too late

he’s just so naturally loving and affectionate; it’s not weird for him to always invite the same person over, not weird for him to be hugging them, it just doesn’t raise any alarms for him to shower them in expensive gifts that they didn’t ask for, it’s just not unusual for him to compliment them so sweetly every time he sees them

after all, he’s just known for being adorable and sweet and nice. if anything, onlookers might think he has a puppy crush and find the whole thing adorable

hell, outside of the discomfort of receiving so many expensive gifts, the target of his obsession probably also thinks it’s just some passing fancy, just another demonstration of his big heart and his boundless kindness

but it’s just a little too much. the hugs last a second too long, it’s just too many gifts- where the hell do they safely put all this gold? it’s too much time spent in scarabia’s common room being hugged and pet and coddled by kalim

perhaps the kindest way to make him back off is to just not appeal to him, right? to be just a little bit cold, to look a bit worse for wear than the average student- surely that’ll be enough to dissuade him, to make him lose interest and maybe focus his attention on something else

but it doesn’t really work. trying to even give a cold shoulder to his affections makes kalim so visibly sad it hurts them (even though they’re the ones trying to make distance between him and them), their disheveled appearance makes him fuss and worry and pay even more attention to them

if the plan was to get kalim off their back, then it backfires completely. he’s suddenly just that much more attached to them; he doesn’t seem to take their cold treatment as a dissuasion, and he gifts care products and clothes and jewelry saying that perhaps they need a little pick-me-up

it just culminates in him “worrying too much” and “taking the decision to care for them, since they’re clearly unwell!”- which translates to being put in a private room in the scarabia dorm for kalim to pamper

he seems to chalk up their distress and their absolute anger at his actions as them “being unwell”. is it the school stress, or something else...? well, it’s ok! he’s taking care of them now; they’re not gonna have to work a day in their life or stress over anything at all, because he’s going to stay with them forever. that’s what love is, after all!

leona kingscholar

what a ridiculous little herbivore

do they truly think he can’t tell what they’re doing? leona knows he isn’t subtle about his little crush, as ruggie calls it- he isn’t stupid enough to deny the obsession that swirls in his heart and raises all his animalistic instincts when he’s in the presence of his darling. he knows they’re worried about how he’s monopolizing their time, that they’re keenly aware he’s trying to keep them for himself

but do they really think that they can somehow drive him away by switching up the way they act? that if they try to put on a brave stance, try to act as if though they aren’t a little weak herbivore for the big mean lion to hunt down for dinner, that he’s just going to shrug and move on?

if his obsession was something so minor, he wouldn’t be putting in the effort to secure his prey. really, how dumb do they have to be to think it’d be that easy? they know him- they know he wouldn’t be putting energy into this whole thing if he didn’t truly want to

leona isn’t stupid. he can see right through them; he’s had his eye on them for a while now, and all of a sudden they’re trying to change up the way they are? he can easily figure out what they’re trying to do

in fact, he might bring it up to their face- looking down at them with a smirk arms crossed

just because the prey tries to act brave doesn’t make it any less of a prey animal. he can sniff them out without trying.

really, it’s about then leona just says ‘fuck it’ and pounces. it’s as easy as saying that if they don’t nicely follow him back to savanaclaw he’ll gladly turn them to sand, with his hand pressed against their back- and that’s all it takes for the brave act to crumble and for the lion to force the rabbit into his den

even if once held captive they keep trying to act unappealing, leona sees it as amusing and perhaps as a bother he can quickly get rid of with a bit of force or punishment. cats like to play with their food, after all: he might let them try to keep up the act for a while, just for his amusement, but once he says they’re done and to drop it, they better drop it, because he isn’t above letting them learn through pain that they aren’t in charge of themselves here

malleus draconia

catching on that malleus draconia might be a bit too interested in them is a bit of an unnerving discovery- because what does one do when the most powerful student in nrc and the heir to the throne of the valley of thorns is a bit too into one? 

it doesn’t help that malleus is just not very socially adept, and it feels... cruel to tell him off. maybe it’s just the way he makes friends- perhaps showing up to their dorm unannounced is just him being friendly, perhaps him just staring at them is how he thinks friendship goes, maybe the extended physical contact is just him being touch starved

it’s just tricky, because what can they do? malleus is powerful and he’s very, very much attached to them. perhaps it’s their fault for letting it get to this level, but they just thought the guy needed a friend; they were trying to be nice, to offer him companionship, and now they’ve got a fae watching them sleep, talking about how they’d be a perfect co-ruler for the valley of thorns, glaring at their friends when they spend time together; it’s a problem

and yet what to do? trying to make malleus “not attracted to them” is easier said than done. after all, what seems to have gotten him so attached is the fact they treat him nicely, that they weren’t scared of him- and they’ve seen malleus spit fire and use magic so powerful they can only dream of it. they don’t want to just go ahead and upset him by suddenly being mean.

and trying to put him off with their appearance just doesn’t seem to work either. if anything, it just makes him that more overbearing; as if he’s worried about their behaviour

there’s no way to win, really. they can try to keep going this way, as his obsession grows more and more each day and he starts to take more and more from them, eventually declaring his “love”, eventually placing them in a tower, trapped with him- no amount of messy hair and poorly ironed clothes can make the lovesick obsession leave malleus; and the alternative is to potentially anger him, to make the move from their dorm to a cold, stone room somewhere in the dorm for malleus to unleash his anger and the worse parts of his obsession onto them

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress- Darker the Weather // Better the Man

Warnings: topics from the empress, Violence

Sarah laid on the makeshift cot. Lately with how everything had been pulled out, the war seemed like it had no end. Her eyes danced dully well her fingers fiddled with the locket from her lovers. Tears easily welled her eyes at the thought of them waiting for her.

Distant, everything is scattered

She missed them, she missed them more than she thought she truly would. The way their fingers danced warmly around her locks. Or how mornings were spent wrapped up tightly within her wives arms, the cold artic air contrasting to the warm blankets. She just missed the softness of the lingering moments.

When your mind is shattered and torn apart

She knew the war wouldn't last forever, yet with every passing day, it seemed the ending was fading. Sarah knew she shouldn't be mad at Technoblade or (y/n), but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it started with (y/n), the way she clinged and lulled the grand emperor into a false sense of pride. She easily Loathed that. Everyone within the empire assumed the Emperor was in control, but Sarah- being the general, knew exactly who had the power.

In an instant, I can be indifferent

But could she really bring herself to hate her? After all she was pregnant with the Emperor's baby as of currently.

She knew she shouldn't, yet it was so easy...

When she walked into the tent to see the Grand Emperor packing his things- it left her seething. He was going to leave them- leave his troops- his people- people who gave so much in hopes to end the conflict quickly. Technoblade should have known others were missing important family events, yet here they stood, proudly serving under his name.

The blame is always shifted from the start

And it was all because She, called- begged, him to come home.

She couldn't linger about any longer, she needed to distract herself. So grabbing a cloak she left the base camp, although some of the men asked about where she was leaving too. Sarah simply wiped her eyes with pride and assured them of her return.

Leafless treetops in the snow

Views of death and bitter cold

The walk towards the nearby village was a bore. Due to the cold, barely any animals found home within the snow, anymore Sarah was starting to see the appeal of moving somewhere warmer.

Instead of visiting a bakery or a warm café, Sarah found herself wondering into a bar. Perusal, only the odd were within the warm walls. Brute men and sly women hogging up around the bar.

Without a step of hesitance she took her seat at the bar, the two brooding men beside her looked as if they should have scared her off. Yet when they tried to comment on Sarah's seat she simply sent a cold glare. Towards them, a wordless death threat of silence.

When the men backed off, they ultimately decided to move seats completely. In turn a younger gentleman took their seats.

Sarah didn't acknowledge him, something seemed off about it, yet she couldn't place her finger quite on it. The man took a glance to her, his fluffier Blonde hair radiating a familiar tone.

"You seemed troubled..." the man purred, sending Sarah into a eyeroll. Typical men. She thought, knowing exactly where this was leading.

"Don't think like that." The man said, his green eyes flashing slightly as a warning. "I'm only here to hear out a strangers problem... I'm hear to help." He mused.

Although Sarah was offset and held the high urge to not tell a thing to this man. Something told her it was worth it. She needed to get it off her chest.

So she did.

And through that, she felt her nerves lessen. With layer, and layer dropped about Technoblade, his wife, his family, everything. She felt a silver lining.

Something that should have stuck out to her however, was when she went on about Technoblade, the Man seemed to just know everything about him. Even things she didn't know- things that seemed future related. It was odd.

Yet here she found herself, drink in hand, explaining her problems to a lost man at a bar. Through the end of her rant, the only thing he had to say was "Men are hard, but im sure you've herd it before..." at the line she shrugged and looked to her glass.

The swirling bourbon within held her reflection, but something eerier about it, was when she glanced to the man inside the glass. The reflection, although looking exactly like the man beside her, when looking closer she saw halo's crossing over his face, Golden beams of bended light.

When she looked back to the man, he was looking at her unamused. "You know, there is a saying out there, that you may find, useful..." the man said.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

"What is the saying..." Sarah asked cautiously, now alarmed from the mans reflection. She watched the man take a drink before smiling- almost sinisterly.

"The Darker the Weather, the Better the Man" he said. Sarah gave a odd look to him, not understanding, but it didn't take long for the man to elaborate. "Say something hardens the man your talking about. Something that will truly drive him cold. He may turn out better than you expected. After all, weaklings rarely survive war." The man said casually.

The line rang around inside Sarah's mind, what could make techno so cold, that he refused to go home. The man watched her, trying his best to hide the wicked smile he held.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

And then it hit her. Almost like sheer brilliance, it hit her dead on.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

The letters to you.

You can't have my-

When Wilbur was tasked with waking you up, it was easy to say he was always overjoyed. With techno being absent from your side, Wil always tried his best to make you smile. Sometimes even Tommy would tag along.

Of course, Tommy didn't understand the severity of the moment how heartbroken and lost you felt, but he could easily tell you were sad at the least. So he also tried to cheer you up.

Sun shines through an open window

So on days he woke you, he would often run into Technoblade room, your silhouette laying within the oversized bed. He often viewed it as misplaced for how lonely your body looked.

But that didn't ever stop him from pulling the curtains open, the light rarely shined brightly through the glass, but in the end it did allow more light within. Well Wilbur pulled the curtains, tommy would often bounce on your bed, doing his best to make you smile.

Close the curtains real slow to hide the light

Although you would hide your face and try to hide, tommy wouldn't stop his smiling and joyful laugh. Yet Wilbur would always watch how your eyes would linger to techno's side of the bed. Wilbur hadn't seen the letters between you and techno, but he always saw how they tore you up. Whatever he was saying was hurting you, and Wilbur despised it.

But in time, maybe I can change it

At the least Wilbur was thankful you had Orion beside you, he was able to calm most of your haywire nerves. Of course, Wilbur never liked how close he was to you. But, he understood it was a time where you just needed someone.

We'll find someone who feels the same as me

Wilbur saw how you tried to hide your pain, your long nights spent crying, the days you refused to eat, the way you refused to acknowledge techno's lost presence. It was obvious who you were not on good terms.

Wilbur couldn't help his curiosity, he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway. When you had left your office for bed Wilbur snuck in, it was the first time he was in Technoblade office alone. The sword you made held high on the wall, truthfully it was poetic.

On a plaque underneath it, was lettering inscribed "the Empress" like the embodied empress, the sword similarly hung alone. With care he slid into your chair, slowly pulling the letters out to read.

You broke me down and stole my soul

And oh was his pissed. For good reason, he saw why everyone was so upset with him.

Left me vacant and all alone

Out of everyone, Orion was the one to see you at your worst. Never had he assumed he would have been so close to someone that he would have gave everything to take your pain away. It left his blood boiling to see you hurt the way you were.

Months of being alone, feeling lost, unloved, unwelcomed. It truly left him with a burning hate. Orion knew he could treat you so much better, that he could take care and provide for you and your infant child.

Over the time techno was gone, he felt he was the only commander to truly hate his leader. Hate what he puts others through, he hated the sorrow he brought along.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

But nothing compared to the pure rage Orion felt when he herd what techno did to you. When you all rested at Foolish's summer home, you didn't lay with techno right off the bat, instead you explained what happened between techno and you.

And Orion was livid.

Techno had put his hands on you- had put his hands on your throat. Orion felt every bone in his body scream to get even. No one raises a hand to those they love, it was just a unspoken law. Orion would have taken to Technoblade as well, only thing holding him back was your tender soft words.

"Please don't- please Orion... let it stay between us..." you begged to him. Soft doe eyes pleading to the Enderian.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

Although it gnawed at Orion’s heart, he respected your call and left it lie. But that didn't stop what fallowed.

With the Enderian's blood flowing strong with rage, emotion, and the urge to defend, he couldn't help the way his eyes slit with the dragons hue, the blood curdling purple that drove fear into those around him.

You were far down the hall, everyone was asleep, it was a perfect time to let everything go.

You can't have my

And go he did..

He had never felt it, even though his blood ran with the Enderian's, he had never felt his anger hit the point of breaking.

The point that others forewarned him about. The point where his jaw would dislocate and his skin would tear open to allow the canines of a monster to show.

It wasn't a side he thought he had.

You can't have my

Yet when the thought laced through his mind again. The thought of techno putting his hands on you, he felt the pop, and the blinding rage that fallowed. Throwing the nearest object as he let the curdling scream out.

You can't have my soul

When techno undressed for the night, he couldn't explain the shame and hurt that he felt. He couldn't meet his own gaze within the mirror. He knew you were willing to bathe with him again. Lay for the night and try and wish it to be what it once was.

But he knew he Hurt you. He knew it wasn't his direct doing, but he was involved- he took it too far.

He could still see the nail marks from where you grabbed his face, he hoped it wasn't the same for your neck.

He didn't deserve you.

He knew it. The way he lashed and you too willing asked him to bathe with you like it was over. You taking his hands, his face his body into your hands, you were truly too wonderful. To amazing for him.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

When you stepped into the bathroom he saw your tired eyes, your arms firmly around Thena. He saw how attached you were to her. She was your world, she was the world techno wanted to live with.

Techno knew he had no right to ask to hold her, not after what he had done to his tiny family. Yet he couldn't help but want to feel you and her in his arms. He wanted to redeem himself and show you he was worthy enough to protect you both.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

After all he was still your husband and her father in the end, it was his job, his one thing he cannot mess up. He knew others were on the line. Others more important than a endless battalion, you were his wife, his life, the mother of his daughter.

You were his world.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

So from that day, he swore. Dare anyone lay a hand on his wife, and daughter. He would raise hell upon them.

He would never loose you too like he almost did.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem!reader , platonic hajime iwaizumi x fem!reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , amnesia recovery

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

what is hajime’s deal ? what did oikawa do to him to get him so upset ?

word count : 1.3k

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀you weren't an idiot. you know, damn well at that, you are far from an idiot. and you sure as hell hoped hajime didn't take you as one. you lost your memories, not your common sense.

⠀it was quite obvious that hajime had that oikawa boy pinned up against a wall, and not in the dreamy way fanfictions like to describe it as. no, there was definitely unwanted tension between the two; it was evident they didn't like each other. despised each other, even. whether you had known of this before or after your incident, you wouldn't have been able to remember something like that.

⠀you really, truly hoped hajime didn't underestimate your observation skills, or your common sense. any random passerby would've seen the anger blazing those olive hued irises of his as he glared down at your classmate. was it coincidence that it was oikawa of all people that you two happened to bump into after school? you wouldn't have known of the brunet's reasons to have stayed at seijoh; then again, it probably wasn't any of your business.

⠀you wanted to speak up and confront iwaizumi as you had turned the corner - he was fast, but not fast enough to back up from the other before you laid eyes on the two boys. if the atmosphere between the three of you alone wasn't suffocating, you might've. it wasn't like you were afraid of confronting him. he seemed like a reasonable person, open to communication.

⠀in truth, it was oikawa you were worried about.

⠀the poor guy turned pale, the color draining from his skin when you entered the scene. as to why he had such a pitiful reaction, you wouldn't be able to guess. from the looks of his typical poise and attitude during school hours, he certainly didn't seem like the weak, bashful type. and according to hajime, he too had played volleyball alongside him. however, the universe seemed to not want you to know of their current relationship status - every time you asked, distractions would get in the way of an answer. in this scenario, oikawa’s silent plea for an escape was what drove you to play the oblivious card. the relief that shone in both of their eyes as you turned around to walk away sent your stomach in nervous turmoil.

⠀come to think of it, you were pretty kept in the dark about all of this. you only knew as much as hajime was willing to tell. the idea of asking others wasn't appealing to you yet; hajime seemed to be quite content being the only individual answering all of your questions. and while you were more than grateful for his assistance and his company alike, there was always that voice in the back of your head trying to reach out to you, but you had no idea what it was trying to say. it was too blurry to be put into words.

⠀you waited in front of aoba johsai with your arms crossed loosely at your sides, waiting for iwa to take you home as he had been insisting to everyday this week. whether he wanted this to occur everyday or not, that’s what it seemed like to you. you didn’t mind, but you wanted to branch out and find out who your other friends were. you spoke to the volleyball team at lunch time, and you enjoyed their company tremendously. alas, it was the only time of day you were able to give them, as hajime was quick to escort you everywhere, practically glued to your hip.

⠀the thought of you two being in a relationship crossed your mind, more times than one. it would be a valid explanation for his behavior. he acted the way a boyfriend should - walking you to and from school, helping you with assignments and keeping you company after hours, even offering to carry your belongings when you can clearly do it yourself. you appreciated and acknowledged the chivalry, but when it became too out of hand, you were curious. if you two were an item before your accident, was there a reason he hadn't told you yet? you remembered quite clearly what happened that first day you woke up in a hospital bed, he made it clear that you and him were just friends - nothing more, nothing less - but his behavior has been convincing you otherwise.

⠀"hajime - " you were cut off by the way he gripped your wrist - firm, but nothing that could hurt you. you wouldn't have been able to pull away if you wanted to, though. his strength outmatched yours. your words caught in your throat, he was angry, very angry. the scowl painted on his face frightened you; you hadn't seen him act this way all week. was this oikawa's fault? what could he have done to make him this worked up?

⠀"hajime, please slow down. i can't keep up with you pulling me around like this." your voice was solid enough to knock him out of his frustration, he jolted a bit and loosened his hold on your wrist so you could pull back. his hands clenched into fists, but you could tell he had calmed down. not all the way, but he was sensible. you were on your guard. usually you could read him like a book - he was always open to you. now, there was no telling what he was going to say to you next.

⠀"y/n, i have a request for you." his voice was quiet, soft spoken - as if projecting any louder would let off a bomb. "of course, you're not obligated to, but i would really, really appreciate if you could do this one thing for me."

⠀"sure, it's the least i can do to repay the kindness you've showed me all week. i can handle a simple request." your body was tense, and so was his. however, the tension was created from two different reasons. "what do you need from me, hajime?"

⠀"stay away from oikawa."

⠀you blinked. "excuse me?"

⠀"as far away as you can, don't let him talk to you, don't let him step near you, nothing. you shouldn't be with someone like him." your eyes shot open wider as your feet abruptly ceased walking, your chest dropping to your stomach as he caught onto your reaction. you didn't need to open your mouth, he knew exactly what you wanted to say. "he doesn't look like it, but he's a bad person, y/n. you don't need him in your life, you're better off without that germ infecting it. he's done bad things - especially to you. i don't need to remind you, i'll just plague your thoughts with bad things. you don't need to hold that burden."

⠀the vendetta he held against oikawa sent goosebumps through your body, and it wasn't anything comfortable. now he's telling you that he knows something about you he never bothered to tell you about before? didn't you have a right to know? if oikawa hurt you, shouldn't it be your business so that you yourself can judge if you should stay away from him or not? his lack of logic was beginning to concern you, but the glare in his eyes stated clearly that he was taking no argument. and since he was the one with all of his memories, you really had no room to impose.

⠀"... yeah. got it. oikawa bad. very bad. do not engage." hearing your compliance flipped a switch, he smiled brightly and nodded.

⠀"i knew i could count on you, y/n. believe me, you're much better off this way. the things he's done, are completely unforgivable. if you had your memories, you'd agree with me."

⠀maybe, but you wanted to be the judge of that.

a / n : this stupid taglist almost made me cry i had to do it six times because tumblr kept glitching on me n my dumbass kept forgetting to save it BAHAHAHA

wow i’m being productive lmao. second post in one night WOOOOO who needs school 😼 n e ways bit of a self promo but my new smau, rumor has it, is finally out! would be grateful if u check it out 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

taglist : @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-a-lot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @citruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @lissa-writes-and-does-matchups @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddleslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch @readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan @catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammers @monviemoo @dicerawr @psychopath-satan

taglist closed , i’m so glad you’re enjoying the series! 🥺🤲🏼✨❤️

[mikaze-discord]

HEAVENS: Love letters

Soooo this is the last of the love letter, I really must reiterate how thankful I am to the people who responded to my message. Specially thankful for the people who ended up writing for one of the boys, all of the love letter writers are so cool. If you wanted to write your own love letter for your oshi then feel free too!! Utapri Tumblr is kinda dead.... but! I hope you enjoyed the love letters

Please enjoy under cut!!!!!!!!!!!!

EIJI OTORI 

From Anon:

Eiji Otori is another member of HEAVENS and he is a down-to-earth type of character. One can say he is a cinnamon roll as he looks out for HEAVENS and his brother, Eiichi. Eiji talks in a formal manner to people outside of HEAVENS and addresses them by their surname like the time he worked with Tokiya for Mighty Aura, or when he was working with Camus and Masato for Feather in Hand. Around HEAVENS, Eiji talks casually, calling them by their first name. He is very mindful of other members of HEAVENS and Eiji keeps an open mind for ways to improve his skills as an idol and to help out his bandmates come to a solution where both sides agree. Eiji speaks very fondly of the people he works with formality and a lot of respect.

What I love about Eiji is his relationship with his brother, Eiichi Otori. The two have a strong bond as Eiichi looked after and took care of Eiji when growing up. The two of them are inseparable and do a lot together while looking after each other. Personally, their sibling bond is what I wish to have with my sibling as well, even though we're complete opposites like day and night! Their interactions are easily seen throughout the anime, you can even see their sibling bond show the most through HEAVENS Radio as Eiichi and Eiji are the co-hosts. If there is anything that I'd like to know more about Eiji, it would be about his hobby, gardening. He has a lot of knowledge on plants and perhaps agriculture. It'd be nice to see HEAVENS talk about their hobbies one day. But all in all, Eiji is a great character that I appreciate with a heart of gold!

From Anon:

Eiji Otori, the 4th member of HEAVENS is one of my two most favorite characters in Utapri. I was originally drawn to his kind and gentle demeanor, that made him such an easily lovable character. He was introduced in the 4th season of the anime in the cross idol unit episodes. The way he treated Tokiya besides knowing he was part of the rival idol group ended up becoming an essential part of Tokiya’s later character growth. Although Eiji is meant to be a foil for Tokiya’s character their personalities are completely polar opposites, their devotion to wanting to be an idol being one of the only similarities besides level headedness. Eiji is his own character, right down the way he speaks to the way he sings. Eiji seems to always carry the group in a loving and family-like way, even going as far as having domestic hobbies like gardening and baking. We always see him and even hear the way he interacts with the other members of HEAVENS on the radio show as if they were an inseparable family. Eiichi, his older brother and the leader of HEAVENS loves him in a way that is so complex but Eiji will always love him back with every fiber of his being to the deepest parts of his soul. There is a deep connection between the brothers that is so beautiful that even poetry couldn’t express, it’s more profound then words can show. It’s a bond they share that only they know, like a secret.

However, even then there is so much more about Eiji that makes him such a wonderful character. When it comes to myself, Eiji hits a bit close to home in a more personal way. Perhaps that is also a factor in why I love him so much. I empathize with him and I can see through his eyes in ways only a younger sibling would know. As a younger sister to a sibling who has always been in the spotlight in some form of way with a big presence, I always lived in her shadow, but I admired her and cared about her above anything else. The way Eiji feels about Eiichi is something that I can personally relate with and understand. Eiichi is an essential part of Eiji’s character and the anime does not lack to show this, nor does it lack to show that Eiji is just as much an essential part of Eiichi’s character. It’s more obvious in the radio show that is hosted by the two brother but it’s not fully ignored either in the anime. I love how Eiji interacts with all of the characters, and seems to find ways to treat everyone with kindness even if they aren’t kind to him in return. He admires those who show a deep love for the things he does, and respects those who are more experienced then he is. He’s always eager to learn

and please. He’s the kind of person you’d always want around and you’d want a hug when things get rough. Eiji is definitely the most pure hearted character of all the Utapri characters. And, I’ll always stand by that through and through.

VAN KIRYUIN

From @whereisvanderwood:

Kiryuin Van. Where to start? He’s cocky. He’s cocky as all hell. There’s something in his air that is poised yet undignified. Childish yet mature. The man is founded on juxtaposition, not dissimilar to a painting of Picasso. His ability to be unique in an industry that begs for individuality, to rise above a tidal wave of competition and stand apart from other fish in the sea, is awe-inspiring. Expectation is dead to him; though the oldest member of Heavens, the weight of bearing the role as ‘most mature’ or the ‘parent’ of the group couldn’t be further from his concern. He is only any dimension of himself he wants to be at any given time. Dumb bitch by morning, bad bitch by night. Much like his bandmates, his confidence and intimidating aura is unwavering. He claims his victory before a race begins, and I couldn’t say if that undying faith in oneself is a skill or a sin. Whatever it is, he owns it. He shamelessly, unapologetically owns who he is and shares it with his fans, friends and enemies.

Also, he’s hot. He’s very appealing to the human eye. His ruggedness reminds me of a warm blanket in winter. His voice, oh his voice. If the world was about to blow up and he just said “No it won’t”, in his own way, I think I’d believe him. Regardless of what he says being juvenile or mature, he’s always authentic. No sugar coats, no little white lies, only genuity. As just said before, he is who he is and wouldn’t change for anyone if it wasn’t in his own best interest. Who couldn’t love a guy like that?

YAMATO HYUGA

From @kusagiiiii:

I'll be honest, I used to forget Yamato exists alot LMAO I fell in love with him when I was looking at a HEAVENS group photo! I think he is a very stronk,very cute and a very soft boy! in some ways haha he's my type

I honestly wish there would be more story on the HEAVENS boys since they all seem like they had a pretty rough past so yee that's basically it~

From Sammy:

Everybody, listen up! It’s Sammy here! Are you ready for some strong appreciation? Let’s shout it out! Yeah!!

Where do I begin when it comes to Yamato? It took me a while to actually like him. At first, I wasn’t a fan of how he was when he first showed up in the anime. I still remember when Yamato was one of the few HEAVENS members people really didn’t like or care much for, next to Eiichi and Nagi.

I used to be one of those people too with Yamato. I found him to be very stubborn, but over time after listening to HEAVENS Radio; The Drama CDs; Watching Maji Love Kingdom, etc… I came to realize there’s so much more to him.

I’ve learned a lot more about him, especially through role-playing as him, and my love for Yamato skyrocketed. Even with all the new content that’s been coming out for HEAVENS lately like Black Garden and Endless Score, my love grows even more every day. Yamato sneaked his way up to being one of my best boys.

Yamato is HEAVENS’ Strongest member. (Seriously, how the heck does this boy train everyday and do so much of it?!) He’s not always aggressive and violent. He’s actually a really thoughtful person who cares about his friends a lot, even being very protective of them. Yamato is the kind of person that’ll immediately stop what he’s doing, and only think about how to help the other person feel better.

A lot of things tend to be overlooked for him cause of how he’s written in the anime, and there’s fans who only pay attention to that. Not even giving the extra content a thought or a single glance.

As Ryuya’s younger brother, Yamato has his own insecurities, especially since he’s always seen as just a shadow. He’s been trapped in darkness where he feels he’s not good enough to be appreciated and loved as his own person. He doesn’t know what to do and which path to take. Yamato only became an idol just to defeat and finally be better than Ryuya at something. I feel that goal is still there, but it’s not a major one like before. Now, Yamato has people like the other members of HEAVENS, the angels, and the other idols. He found his light and happiness.

Overall, Yamato is the kind of person he wants everyone to be proud of. He wants to always share his strongest power and energy, carrying the burden of everybody’s smiles. Wanting to see those around him happy and be the best they can be.

Another part that I really like about Yamato is whenever he gets embarrassed. I can’t help, but find that really cute cause it’s something we don’t see or hear out of him a lot.

There’s also the times he demonstrates how much he loves food. Even though he overeats and knows he can’t help it when he’s hungry, I really liked when Yamato stated that if eating makes you happy, go for it. Just make sure you train afterwards to burn off calories. It helps people feel good about themselves.

Even the times when Yamato struggles with difficult words, specifically English and kanji. It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but he knows he’s not good at that sort of thing. What I really like about this is HEAVENS is always willing to help him, even Tokiya and Cecil. They help keep things simple and easy for Yamato to understand.

There’s a lot you can say I just simply vibe with when it comes to Yamato, and I love him. Hope everyone enjoys this long appreciation of this strong boy, and I hope you all love him too!

SHION AMAKUSA 

From Anon:

When I saw Shion for the first time, he caught my attention with his beautiful appearance. His cream-white hair, his periwinkle eyes and his pale skin were a wonderful combination that I just couldn't ignore. Physically, he was exactly the type of character I love… Even his hairstyle is great! And what to say about his pretty face! To me, he looked like an angel.

His style in clothes is something I also like about him. With all this mixed, the only word I can use to describe him is "perfect".

But, of course, there's more than just physical appearance. Shion's way of speaking, as we all know, is quite… Particular. And those beautiful words made me be more interested in this boy, even if they were a bit difficult to understand. This characteristic is something that, in my opinion, makes him special, not only in his group but among all the groups.

That poetic way of speaking is a beautiful combination with his voice. When he speaks I find it so mystical… And when he sings his solo songs I feel relaxed and even a bit emotional. He's not an angel just physically, he also sings like one!

But what made me love him completely was his personality. To be honest, at first I didn't understand why he acted so hostile to Cecil and signed with him, but when it was explained later I could see his point of view and I felt sorry for him, for how he was feeling and the big sacrifice he was making if we take into account his thoughts.

Loyalty is something I value a lot, and Shion has a huge loyalty towards his friends. After that incident, he changes his way of thinking and he starts getting more friendly to the rest, something I find beautiful.

I also find him very cute, an extra point for me to like him. His -sometimes- childish attitude is adorable! And how he acts around his friends… So lovely!

I also feel a bit similar to him in some aspects, such as listening to the same song again and again, liking birds or even usually feeling sleepy, besides other things. These similarities make me feel connected in some way with him.

Shion is a very special character for me, and I can't wait to see more content about him, to know more about this wonderful boy, for example, about his family, where he is from, how he ended up in HEAVENS, how he started to speak the way he does… There are a lot of things we don't know yet and I hope we can get more information about Shion soon!

[heavenunderthemoon]

Line Without A Hook- Jennifer Jareau x Reader

summary: You were brought onto the team as a tech analyst to help with the new workload and find a certain blonde has taken an interest in you. 

warnings: none just some angst and then some fluff

I would recommend listening to Line without a hook by Ricky Montgomery while reading bc that’s what I listened to while writing (hence the title), always, enjoy! Also go check out my other works here

"Hey, hot stuff."

Your fingers tightened around the black, government issued telephone you had been holding up to your ear, eyes flickering to Penelope who was finishing up typing in a code to help filter your search results for the unsub.

Jennifer Jareau's arrogantly smooth (in your own, professional opinion, of course) filtered through the phone with ease and successfully made your cheeks tint pink.

"Jennifer." You said curtly, and Penelope spun around in her chair, her face twinged with amusement already.

Ever since you had started working at the bureau a month ago, the team had noticed a...flirtation between you and the blonde former media liaison. You remembered your first day, how her hand had gripped yours tightly and the way her lips had quirked up when you pulled yours back just a bit too fast.

The team had watched for a whole month as the blonde had found fun in her flirtatious poking, the first time she had expressed interest in anyone since her divorce. And you hadn't had any complaints- well, any real complaints. Sure, you answered her stiffly, choosing to only call her Jennifer (because, according to her, only  friends called her 'JJ' and you would vehemently attest that you were not friends), but, if you had actually been bothered by the constant poking you would've voiced it. So, she continued.

"Now, that's no way to greet your favorite co-worker." The blonde teased and you could swear you could hear the smirk in that overly-confident, pompous, velvety voice of hers.

You rolled your eyes as Penelope hit the button to put it on speaker, eyes glued to your face as if to gauge your reaction. But, over the last thirty days you had become excellent at putting on a poker face. With a dry tone, you responded.

"You're right, I'd never greet Emily that way." You cracked wittily, and a small chuckle ghosted from her lips.

They had only been gone for six hours and you knew she probably hadn't changed. She was probably still wearing that wonderful little blazer that fit her slender, toned arms so well. The one that made your eyes follow her as she moved throughout the room, that annoying, adorable little smirk on her lips because she knew it too.

"Ah, how you wound me, Y/N/N." The name grated against your ears and your lips twitched in annoyance.

You hated that nickname. You had never had a nickname before, which, you supposed should be surprising because you were well above the age that nicknames were typically given but no one had ever bothered to give you one and now that someone had (and that someone was Jennifer), you couldn't help but have your annoyance spike at the usage of it.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate when you call me that?" You asked sarcastically.

"Every time I use it." Jennifer responded cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, scooting in to your desk while Penelope giggled.

And just like that she was asking you for an address and you were dutifully searching for it. This case was similar to most you had worked on so far, though the likeness to the others did little to numb the severity of the situations these people found themselves in. You didn't know how they had all been doing it for so long. Looking at this team from the outside in had made it seem like a safe haven, a group of untouchables, of the elite. But now that you were one of them you could see that it was the opposite. That, eventually, this job chipped away at them, piece by piece. You wondered how long it would be until the first part of you left too.

The address pinged onto the corner of your screen and you were speaking into the phone once more, giving it to Jareau woman as she showered you in thanks. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, or perhaps it was the case itself, the way the women all had blonde hair- it wasn't like Jennifer's hair, no, Jennifer's blonde was golden, like the sun itself had ventured down to earth to lay a kiss atop her head, bleeding some of its golden rays onto her long locks. Whatever the reason may be, you wouldn't particularly know because you were speaking far before you could think twice.

"Wait, Jennifer?" There was shuffling on the other end, the agent most probably gearing up as she walked to the squad cars, preparing to catch the man that had started the whole chase.

The blonde noticed the change in tone immediately. Of course she did, because you had developed a certain tone whenever you spoke with her. An exasperated, breathy, really adorably annoyed sort of tone that she knew was just for show because that cute little smile that you had, the smile that tilted down at the corners because you were trying so very hard to suppress it, always tugged at your lips. That tone was gone, stripped bare and all that remained was you.

"Yeah?" And now you noticed the change in tone, because the tone she normally used with you was irritatingly confident and poised and so frustratingly perfect that it made you automatically go in defense mode because, let's be honest, you were very far from it.

"Be safe." You said, and it seemed more like a plea than a statement and the back of your neck felt extremely hot when you recalled Penelope's presence behind you, the very excitable woman practically shaking at the small interaction and you hung up the phone before Jennifer could even respond.

"Not a word." You warned the Garcia woman, keeping your eyes glued to the screen before you. There was nothing to be done, at least, nothing pressing. You had given the address to the team. Now, what was left was the waiting. The waiting to confirm you had the right guy,  waiting to make sure your team turned out okay (the standards for okay, you had learned, was that everyone was in one piece or not in jail by the end of the case), and that the paperwork was filled out.

Penelope Garcia, being that she was Penelope Garcia, did not follow your request. Her earrings jangled as she rolled her way to you, your shoulders touching as she occupied the space next to your desk. She hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of a new occupant in her bat cave. In fact, she had detested it, all but striking where Emily had brought up the idea. But, the Prentiss woman had been quite adamant about the new addition, claiming that the technical analyst needed help with the new workload as they began to take on more cases, not to mention your resume had been nothing short of sparkling.

Grumbling, Penelope had met you, her eyes landing on the woman staring at the rows of action figurines on display on the righthand corner of the room. She had watched the way you peered at them, the recognition flashing in your eyes and successfully called you out on being a nerd (a secret nerd, as she called you, because you didn't broadcast your 'dorky' interests quite like Penelope liked to.) And that had been that, the Garcia woman clearing out a space for your desk and promising not to tell anyone about your weird niche interests that she had all but pried out of you.

"'Be safe', I think I'm swooning." The Garcia woman fanned her face teasingly and you huffed, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What part of 'not a word' needed to be translated into Penelopian-"

"Peneloponese is actually my official language, but continue."

And this time you did turn to face her with a cross look, arms folded. "Very funny, we'll have to get you on Seinfeld." You said flatly.

The blonde let out a laugh, as she so often did around you. As adamantly against she had been on your presence in her bat cave, she was grateful you had come into her life. Previously, she had relied on figurines and plush animals to bring her happiness when the darkness threatened to breach her area of sanctitude but now she had you, her secretly dorky, outwardly cool coworker who very obviously had a crush on one of her oldest friends.

"I tease out of love, Y/N. Speaking of love,"

You turned back to your computer, cutting th Newman off swiftly. "No."

Penelope let out a whine. "No? You don't even know what I was gong to say." She argued, though she knew you did.

And you did. You knew that she was going to ask what the latest gossip was on you and Jennifer was because that's what she always asked and, yes, while you typically playfully denied anything going on you didn't quite this you could do that this time because this time you were far too trapped into your own brain to dig yourself out long enough to lie. You were stuck, deep, deep in there, think about all the ways in which you thought Jennifer Jareau was an actual angel sent from Heaven above, starting from the golden color of her hair and ending with the way she twirled her pens out of boredom. And you hated that you noticed all those things, mostly because it meant you spent more time than you cared to admit sneaking Ito the bullpen, making excuse after excuse just to stand there and observe the funny way she did things (she ate Cheetos for almost every meal and it baffled you how she was still standing).

But you also hated it because it meant that you liked her and you could not like Jennifer Jareau. You couldn't like her because there was no way in hell that you were dumb enough to set yourself up for failure like that, you weren't that sadistic.

You would never be able to handle the crushing weight of rejection that would inevitably come from unrequitedly liking Jennifer Jareau and, of course, it would be unrequited because how could she like you? How could she like you, someone who simply refused to read a book unless it was a physical copy (you didn't understand the appeal to e-readers because you couldn't smell the old pages as you flipped them or run your fingers along the spine as you read it. Someone who had learned seven languages, one of which was Klingon just because you wanted to see if you actually could (it hadn't been too hard but now you had to live with the fact that you actually knew Klingon). Someone who hated polka-dots. Someone who had a fear of walking over sewer grates because you thought you might just be the one person unlucky enough to fall in. How could Jennifer Jareau, the woman who always walked in to work, never a wrinkle in sight or a hair out of place, possibly like you?

Surely, the flirty nature of your conversations was just something to tease you with, something she found satisfaction in and you hated it because as much as you wished it was true, those sultry looks and kind smiles, the shoulder squeezes and over the shoulder smirks, the walks to the car and greetings in the morning, it wasn't. It wasn't true and it never would be because she was Jennifer Jareau, a newly divorced mother of two.

"Drop it, Pen." And before she opened her mouth once more your tone was softening, shoulders deflating from the tense posture you held before, slumping in vulnerability. "Please."

Penelope's lips pursed shut, the two of you sitting in that silence you had created for what seemed like eternity. The hum of the machines, something that had typically served as a sense of comfort to you, seeming to mock you, a symphony of interruptions that added to the very loud, very panicked screaming currently happening in your brain.

It was the kind of silence that you asked for but once you received but, you regretted it. The silence that enveloped you in its entirety, consuming you whole and dropping you right into the belly of the beast. You started to drown in that silence because, for you, it wasn't silence at all, it was just a big, large, bottomless abyss that served as a chasm for your thoughts to fill and boy did you have a lot of them, none of them entirely pleasant and almost all of them torturous. You felt yourself teetering onto the edge of that metaphoric chasm, tiptoeing the ledge of hate and love for Jennifer Jareau.

But, Penelope Garcia was nothing if not a savior, and her hand latched onto your still one with gentleness.

"She likes you too."

And just like that the chasm was emptying, mind going blank, going absolutely numb because your ears were ringing at even the slightest notion that Jennifer Jareau liked you. Your face must've displayed that because Penelope was continuing.

"She does, I swear, she told me. Well, she told Emily but it was Girls' Night Out and I went to get more drinks and she told Emily but you know that JJ can't hold her liquor all too well and I don't think either of them know that I know and I can't tell them that I know because then they'll know I was eavesdropping- which I wasn't! My eyesight is just really bad so I think my hearing is just hyper-sensitive-"

Your mind raced attempting to keep up with the blonde. "Wait, hold on." You throat felt dry, full of cotton and closing up by the second so you forced yourself to breathe. "She...likes me? Not as a friend but actually likes me?" And you hated how juvenile it all sounded, cringed at the concept that you had to ask your friend if the girl you liked, liked you back, but you had to.

Penelope took a breath of her own, that brilliant smile she always adorned coming back into play. A nod toddled out of her head and she squeezed your hand. "Yes! She never told me, though I think that's because everyone thinks I can't keep a secret. But she always talks about you, never shuts up actually, and the look on her face-"

"She likes me." And as cool as you always tried to look, as mature as you always claimed to be, that childish little smile that overtook your features demolished all of those walls in an instant. Your heart beat quickened and you could've sworn they were singing, singing her name, cheering it, really.

Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.

"She does." The Garcia woman confirmed.

The phone ringing cut off your inner symphony, your hand flying to the phone as you answered it.

"Hello?" You were breathless and you couldn't quite help it.

"First ring. Nothing better to do than answer my calls, huh, Y/N?" And Jennifer was back on the line, the sound of sirens haunting her background. It had been almost an hour since your last call and you could safely assume she had gotten out of the situation alive, the unsub apprehended and the team beginning their victory laps.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jareau, I thought it was someone else." And because your mind had emptied, because your thoughts had gone blank, your quips weren't;t as lethal as they always were, your guard lowered.

JJ snorted. "Oh yeah, like who?"

You spun your chair around, blurting out the first name that came to mind. "Penelope." And instantly your hand was slapping your forehead.

"Penelope? Is she not right next to you?" A breathy little laugh escaped her lips and you stared at the blonde tech analyst, eyes widened and hands gesticulating wildly to which she merely shrugged.

"Uh, yeah, she is...it's a, uh, game...we play." Your excuse was weak and asinine but it was the only one you could think of and if you could astrally project out of your body to smack yourself you would but you couldn't. "Anyways, did you catch the guy?" You asked, quickly changing the subject.

If JJ noticed the awkwardness, she didn't mention it. "Yup, so you won't have to wait too long to see this face if that's what you were wondering." That confidence, the confidence that you know understood was her way of flirting and also would probably be your cause of death.

And with that new understanding, your mind simply stopped working. "Good." And at the realization of what you had just said you attempted to recover. "I mean that's good that you'll be home soon, not good that I'll see your face- not that I don't want to see your face, it's a good face, symmetrical and all that-"

Penelope was waving her hands, signaling for you to stop and your hand was covering your own mouth to stop yourself.

JJ was silent for a moment, the sound of a car door closing before she was speaking once more. "Are you okay, Y/N? You're being...weird."

"Ask her out!" Penelope hissed and you smacked her shoulder.

"Was that Pen What did she say?"

"Nothing!" You shrieked, before clearing your throat, voice returning back to normal. "Nothing, just, uh,"

The Garcia woman was back to miming and you watched as she panto-mimed a date (very poorly, you might add, but it was enough to make you relax, shoulders regaining some movement).

"Do you want to go out for dinner sometime?"

The silence you had so loathed had returned with a sickening fervor and your stomach flipped at it. "With me...in case that wasn't clear." Your hand scratched the back of your neck, hot with embarrassment toward the entirety of this exchange.

And just when you thought you might die from the embarrassment or Penelope might faint from the whole ordeal, Jennifer responded.

"Yes."

[ijenoyou]

Bright eyes.

Chapter two.

werewolf!jeno x human!resder.

summary; jeno is ready (not at all) to tell you the truth.

warnings; one bad word ig(? lmao

notes; this part sucks ass lol anyways part 3 might be better haha also remember english isn’t my first language soooo if there’s any mistake just ignore it :p enjoy~

MASTERLIST.

——————————————————————————

Jeno has been trying to get closer to you but everytime he tried to talk to you, a annoying girl would plant herself in front of him to have a conversation. That girl is Kwon Eunbi, one of the most well known people in the whole school but Jeno couldn’t care less about her. He only wanted to see you.

“Will you sit with me today?” Eunbi asks while pouting.

“Oh.” Jeno wanted to be nice and politely say no but he was under pressure since all of Eunbi’s friends were behind her looking at the both of them. “Sure.” He tried to give her a small smile and she jumped in excitement.

When he lifted his gaze from the tiny girl, he saw you already looking at him. He waved and you awkwardly returned it.

“Is that you?” Jeno asked and you nodded.

“Apparently.” You answered and stuffed the photo back into your bag. “I don’t remember having a pet at that age though.” You furrowed your eyebrows trying to understand why you just couldn’t remember anything that involved the animal.

“You don’t remember your childhood pet?” Jeno’s expression suddenly dropped making him look like a kicked puppy.

“Why does everybody ask that?!” You groaned.

“I mean, you don’t look very young in that picture so maybe people would think that you can remember something like that.” He tried to answer without being too pushy.

You sighed while letting your head fall to the desk you were sitting at. Jeno smiled and patted your back. “I think Moonie would be sad if he knew you can’t remember him.” He softly spoke and you turned your head to the side to look at him.

That made you laugh, just a bit. Enough for Jeno to feel warm inside him.

“It’s just a dog, and he’s probably dead by now.”

“You mean wolf.” He tried not to let your words hurt him, he was stupid for thinking that after all these yours you would remember him because as far as Jeno knows, you saw his human form multiple times when you were a kid.

“Why are so keen on about that stupid animal?” You suddenly asked making him bite his bottom lip trying not to speak again.

It’s a mess. He knows you want to talk to him but Jeno isn’t sure if he wants to hear the harsh words that are directed towards his wolf form. He just had to find a perfect time to tell you who he actually is and why he came back. But it was becoming harder to do so since he always sees you next to Mark, a guy who is very loud and likes to hit people when he does it.

It was driving you crazy. The way Jeno would search for you in a place full of people just to give you a smile which you usually returned but the very next moment you try to make a conversation with him, he would ignore you. It’s been almost three weeks since he told you Moonie was a wolf and yet, you wanted to know more because oddly enough, he seemed to know a lot about the white fluffy wolf. But Jeno has been avoiding that type of talk with you for a while now. 

“Looks like someone took a piss on your cereal.” Mark said while putting his food tray in front of you.

“Ha, very funny Lee.” You answered with a sour expression on your features.

He raised his left eyebrow questioning why you were acting like that. Before taking a bite of his frozen pizza he decided to speak again.

“Is it about that Jeno guy?” He asked and turned his head to the side to watch him talk to the ‘popular kids’ as any other student would call them.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to talk to him but he always runs away.” You answered and started to poke your food with the plastic fork the school gave you for your meals. “He also started to hang out with Eunbi so.”

Jeno couldn’t help but to listen to the conversation you were having with Mark, it’s a good thing he has perfect hearing even when he’s at the other side of the room. He knew he had to become closer with you one way or another but he also knew he messed up. Jeno was forbidden to say anything about what happened years ago, a rule he himself made.

There was no one to stop him, he left the pack a long time ago. But he wasn’t ready to tell you everything.

“I mean, I could talk to him for you if you want to.” Mark said after finishing his pizza. “He joined the basketball team the other day, he’s really good— he’s very fast and wow, it’s impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not in love with him?” You ask while laughing.

Jeno admired your smile. It’s been a very long time since he saw you and he still wanted to protect you from everything.

“So Jeno.” A voice next to him made stop looking at you. “Why did you move here?” Eunbi asked.

“I-I uh, I used to live here.” He tried to give her a casual answer.

“Ow, so you came back because you missed home?” She pouted trying to be appealing to him.

“Yeah, home.” He said and looked at you.

Eunbi followed his gaze. She wanted to scoff when she saw that Jeno was looking at the table you and Mark were sitting at. Eunbi wanted to think that maybe he was just looking at a random direction but when she saw Jeno smile while still watching all of your moves she started to feel heaviness on her chest.

She used to be a friend of yours, way before Mark, but jealousy took over her actions. No one knew about that friendship —not even Mark. But that’s a story for another day.

When lunch time was coming to an end, Jeno decided to make a plan, one that would help him control his feelings and talk to you, but he’s scared. Scared that when you found out about the whole deal he has with you, you might run away and never want to see him again.

Classes were almost over when Jeno decided to approach you. He was very nervous because he so badly wanted to hold you again and re-build the bond you and him had. A bond that was never meant to be broken.

“You’re not wearing your sunglasses.” Was all you said when he found you in front of your locker.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “My eyes tend to get sensible.” He told you and you nodded.

There was a weird silence. You really wanted to say something but you just couldn’t, it was a weird sensation, like something kept pulling your heart.

“I was wondering—“ Jeno began talking. “If you wanted to maybe, hang out one day.”

It was hard to come up with an answer right away, just a few days ago he was ignoring you with all his power and now he wants to talk. You didn’t even know why you were upset and Jeno could sense it. After all, he’s your soulmate and you are his.

“Uh sure.” You said without looking at him. “But— Why are you suddenly asking me out?” You asked him and he was now the one trying to avoid your gaze.

Well fuck. Jeno thinks to himself, he had to come up with a good lie since he just couldn’t say ‘hey! i’m your pet from childhood who actually is a werewolf and oh yeah! you’re my mate’

“You have all my attention.” Was all he said and smiled making his eyes form into crescent moons. “I want to know you better.”

You hummed trying to ignore what he said while hugging yourself. You forgot to bring another jacket since you woke up pretty late. “Are you cold?” Jeno asked in which you nodded. He took a step closer to you making your whole body freeze, when he was close enough you could sense the warmth of his body onto yours. Jeno placed his hands on sides of yours arms and pulled you closer, hugging you.

“Is this... is this okay?” He once again asked. You hugged him back, placing your arms on his waist and gripping his hoodie with your fists.

Why are you so suddenly at peace? Most important, why are you hugging someone who you just met a few weeks ago? There’s no explanation to the feeling you have in your whole body. The way your heart beats faster when you see him makes you feel dizzy, you sighed against his chest and pulled apart missing the warmth he provided you.

You also missed the way Eunbi was looking at both of your figures with anger in her eyes.

It’s finally the day in which the so called date would actually happen.

“Dude, I’m so excited!” You hear Mark say while he throws himself to the your bed. “You’re going on a date!”

You laugh and start looking for an outfit change. “Sounds like you’re the one going on it.”

Mark takes one of your pillows and throws it towards you, hitting the back of your head then falling to the ground. You roll your eyes and take the pillow he threw to start hitting your friend with it, he loudly laughs and takes both of yours wrists to stop you from attacking him.

“Anyways.” He says after you began to search for clothes again. “Where are you guys going?” Mark asks.

You were taking a shirt out of your closet. “It’s snowing outside, we’re staying here to have dinner.” You murmured while taking another shirt.

Mark whistles and crosses his arms on his chest. “Does your parents know that you’re bringing a boy?” He suddenly asks.

“No, and don’t say anything to them or i’ll beat your ass.”

You finish picking your outfit and decided to change in your bathroom since Mark wasn’t planing on leaving your room. When you finished changing Mark smiled and gave you a thumbs up.

“You have to leave.” You said and started to do a bit of makeup, not too much since you were too lazy to bother taking it off later.

“What?!” Mark shouted. “You’re gonna make me walk when it’s snowing?”

You groaned and turned around. “Fine, you can stay but please stay at the living room, Jeno and I will be here at my room.” You told him and he just smiled.

Mark was so happy you were starting to open up to other people. He’s been so worried about you being alone since he was leaving soon but you didn’t need to know that. Yet.

“Are you nervous?” He asked while sending a text to one of his team mates.

“Uh, yeah but I—“ You got interrupted when an upcoming call appeared on your phone screen, you held one of your fingers up telling Mark to wait for a few seconds. “Hello?”

“Hey! I’m outside your house.” Jeno’s voice came through the speaker of your phone. Mark’s eyes widened and got up from your bed, ran towards your door and left the room as fast as he could with you trailing behind him. Mark opened the door revealing a smiley Jeno — with a huge plastic bag of takeout— whose expression changed when he saw your best friend instead of you. “Oh! Hi Mark.” Jeno said while waiting for you to appear.

You pushed him to the side and gave Jeno a shy smile. “Come in!”

“Why is Mark here?” Jeno asked as soon as the both of you went into your room.

“He was bored so he just came to spend time with me, I told him to leave before you came but he was being whiny about me making him leave when it’s snowing outside.” You answered while scratching your palms since you were nervous to have Jeno in your room, alone.

He laughed. “It’s fine. I mean, it could be worse like your parents being here instead of him.” You cracked a smile and nodded.

Jeno left the takeout food on your desk and sat on your bed, you did the same. There was a weird silence, it wasn’t awkward at all. Jeno’s mind couldn’t think straight, he was too nervous to even say anything. He debated on tell you everything right of the bat or wait for another few days to gain your trust and make sure you won’t freak out.

He opted for the first option.

“So...” He trailed. “I have something to tell you.” After saying that he stood up from your bed and placed himself in front of you. You look up making your eyes look bigger, like a doe which almost made Jeno let a whimper out.

His wolf so badly wanted to come out.

“What is it?” You asked with worry since you could tell from his sour expression that it had to do with something very important.

“I—“ He stopped talking after he caught two different essences aside from yours and Mark’s.

He turned his head to the window you have in your room with view towards the backyard.

With the good vision he has, he easily found Taeyong’s yellow eyes, looking at him. Next to him Jeno saw the one person who hurted him the most in all his life, whose red eyes held sadness and anger mixed together. Doyoung —his older brother.

“Jeno, are you okay?” You stood up when you saw his eyes started to water out of nowhere. You took his face between your hands and made him look at your eyes. “You’re feeling very warm, are you feeling okay? Do you need some medicine or—“ You got cut off after he placed his lips on yours.

Kissing you is the only way to calm his wolf since seeing his brother and his ex pack leader made him angry.

You reacted very slowly, so when he was about to pull away you decided to chase his lips. The only sound that could be heard on your room was the sound of lips smacking together, Jeno decided to place both of his hands on your waist bringing you closer to his body. You played with the hair at the back of his neck trying to ease your nerves.

“Hey Y/N can I borrow your charger?” Mark opened the door without knocking first. “Oh shit!”

You pulled away and pushed Jeno making him fall backwards on your bed.

“Please don’t tell my parents.” You said while putting your hands together.

“Well, too late for that young lady.” Your father said.

Mark turned around with wide eyes.

“Living room. Now.” Your father spoke with seriousness in his voice.

Oh no. I’m in trouble. You thought.

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write Day 3

Scale– each of the small, thin horny or bony plates protecting the skin of fish and reptiles, typically overlapping one another. - OR - an instrument for weighing, originally a simple balance ( a pair of scales ) but now usually a device with an electronic or other internal weighing mechanism.

(yes there's other definitions, these two are what's relevant for my response)

It was a somewhat chilly morning in the Azim Steppe as Dahkar Darkspear, Warrior of LIght and kahn of the Azim Steppe, strode through Dotharl Khaa, striding in the direction of the khatun's tent.  Hushed whispers seemed to follow him, as every Dotharl Xaela in the settlement could not stop watching him or speaking quietly to each other.

It made little sense to Dahkar. He was a Xaela himself and a regular fixture in the settlement at least once a week. He made sure to check in with all of the major leaders of the Steppe regularly to hear news, arbitrate disputes, and otherwise do whatever he could to ensure the people of the Steppe were mostly doing well.

Well, almost all of the leaders. He ignored Magnai and Daidukul on principle. Esugen, the Oronir's culinarian he'd helped a few times, made sure he was always in Reunion when he knew the khan would be arriving so he could pass on information about the Oronir and the Buduga.

He was a day early in this instance, so perhaps that was the reason behind the whispers. He put it from his mind as he approached the woman standing in front of the khatun's home.

Shar smiled and nodded to him. "Welcome, khan. You're early this week."

He smiled back to her. "That I am, Shar. How's your son doing?"

"He's growing well. The khatun does not yet know who is behind his eyes, but it has been but only a couple of moons. She is confident the soul within will reveal themself soon enough. I'm very excited to re-meet whoever it is!"

"I look forward to the day I can meet them. Is Sadu within? I have some...well let's just say an interesting proposal for her"

Shar smirked at him. "Oh, really now? Very bold of you, khan. Very Dotharl. I hope you're ready for a long fight. When my husband proposed to me, we fought for 10 bells straight!"

A look of shock crossed Dahkar's face, descending into horror. "What? No! Not that kind of-!"

She began laughing, loud and from her belly. "HA! Aahahaha! Oh, khan, the look on your face! Priceless!" In between fits of giggling, she opened the tent's flaps to admit him.

"Pretty sure there's rules against sassing your khan" he muttered to her as he walked past her, into the tent. "And if not, I'm gonna make some." This did nothing to stop her laughter.

The tent's sole occupant, a beautiful white-haired Xaelan woman dressed in her people's blue attire with a horned darkwood staff, turned to him. She smirked at him. Dahkar had often witnessed that smirk directed at him, but it was only now that he noticed Shar had given him a very similar one. Clearly she'd been taking lessons.

"Well, well, our glorious khan graces us with-". She suddently stopped and looked at him, frowning. "What in all the hells are you wearing?" she asked, incredulously.

Dahkar looked down at his attire, a style he'd seen many on the Steppe wearing during his first two trips there. He'd made sure to acquire some before departing that second time, aetherically aligned towards boosting magicks. "What? It's hardly unusual. Hells, I saw many of the Dotharl wearing very similar garb on my way in. Granted, this is white in color, but I didn't want everyone to assume I'd joined the Dotharl or-"

"No no, the garb is fine. But...I have never seen you wear anything other than that heavy black armor you favor. Or carry any weapon other than those slabs of metal you refer to as swords. Now you wear this? And is that the weapon of a conjurer on your back?"

Ah. That explained the stares and the whispers. "Yes, it is." He removed the cane from his back. The white crystal embedded in its head began to glow, a series of green-yellow energy lines shimmering around the head of leaf-covered branches. "Before I ever took up the sword of the Dark Knight, I was a conjurer. Pretty good one, in fact. So good they actually decided to let me train as a White Mage, which...well, you probably aren't aware of what those are or why it's a big deal. Suffice to say, I'm damn powerful with conjury."

"Hmmph", she signed, annoyed. "And what, you just decided that one day, it didn't work for you and took up a giant sword, instead?"

"Not quite that simple, but that's not far off the mark. Bad things happened to me and I changed in response to them in part by taking up the art of the Dark Knight." He shrugged and slung the cane over his back again.

"Oh yes, our glorious khan knows all about change!  You and that Doman. First you win the Naadam, as foreigners no less, then you rope us into this alliance of yours and persuade us to fight those men of metal and machines!" Sadu threw up her hands and turned her back to him. "Tell me, khan, what change will you bring next?"

Dahkar sighed. It was an argument he'd heard from her, and others, many a time. "Are we really doing this every time, Sadu? You know there's no rules against foreigners entering Bardam's Mettle, nor against competing in the Naadam. You agreed to help Hien and I fight the Garleans. Multiple times. You even told me you enjoyed the battle to liberate Ala Mhigo! You aren't actually angry about any of this, because you know what i know. Change is inevitable, stagnation equals decay."

She turns, smiling at him again. There's still mockery in her smile, but not as much this time. "Hrmph. Fine, you are correct. I suppose I just wanted to throw you off balance. As usual, you are hard to break. So what brings you to us a day early? It's too early in the day for you to have gone anywhere else first, so I assume this is important."

Dahkar smiled. "That it is. I want to talk with you about the future of the Steppe, and of the Dotharl, specifically."

Sadu's narrowed and her smile turned downward. She crossed her arms. "Speak. I suspect I will not like this, but you have earned the right, many times over, so I will hear you."

"It's simple, really. Many of the other Xaela fear the Dotharl. They see you as merciless raiders who seek only to deal death to them, who lust only for battle and killing. I would have you change that perception."

"And just how would you have me do that? Moreover, why would I even WANT to? The Dotharl live for battle. How many times have you heard me say it, khan? 'In battle do our souls burn bright, and in death do they sing'. Those are not empty words, they define us."

Dahkar smiled. "I'm well aware. I'm also aware that you very much realize that your way of life is not sustainable to the Dotharl's continued existence. You admitted as much to us, Gosetsu and I, that day we first met." Sadu turned her face away from him, eyes downward. "Hrmph. So I did. What of it? We have endured thus far. I will not compromise our way of life, khan"

"I'm not asking you to. What I propose is not a change to it, but a direction for it. I would have the Dotharl become protectors of the Steppe."

She turned to him again, her face a mixture of shock and rage. "...Protectors??  Have you heard a word I've said?" Dahkar raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Wait, just hear me out. It's not as radical as it seems, and it will solve your biggest problem of numbers in the long run."

Sadu resumed crossing her arms, glaring daggers at him. "...fine."

"Very well. First of all, I ask you what exactly the Dotharl gain in making war on weaker tribes? You yourself told me that only in great battle does the soul burn brightly, so what does it gain your warriors to slaughter those of lesser skill in battle than you? Seems unworthy of you. Turning that strength on the marauders who engage in such unworthy predation? That seems like a far better chance for a real battle. Not to mention the Steppe is crawling with monsters and vicious animals of various types. They may pose no threat to most tribes, certainly, but there are those to whom a monster attack is a death sentence. You can protect them and test your strength and bravery at the same time."

"If memory serves, you told me that it was in a monster attack that your own tribe was slaughtered. Purbols, I believe. I can't help but wonder if this is why you ask this of me."

"Which leads me to the second benefit this would bring to you. What do you suspect would have happened had the Dotharl come to our aid?"

"I imagine you would have been grateful, which is hardly worth anything to us."

"Gratitude is a long-term investment, Sadu. Think on it. If I'd been raised on tales of the tribe of warriors that saved us from vicious monsters, that fought back against other marauding tribes that kidnapped people like the Buduga? There's a very good chance that I would have bid farewell to my tribe and joined you all the day I came of age."

A single eyebrow raised. "You would have?"

"Very likely. I became an adventurer because it seemed like the easiest way to earn a living helping people and making things better. If my tribe hadn't been killed and my mother fled the Steppe? I doubt I'd be so different as to not want to do the same, still. Joining the Dotharl, becoming an undying one, born again and again to fight to save people, to help them? Well, it would have been extremely appealing to me. And I doubt I'm the only one, too. In time, I believe this swell your numbers significantly. Furthermore, when the Naadam comes around again, all those tribes you helped? Seems to me like they'd be more willing to help you as allies. In time, this will tip the scales in the Dotharl's favor and you'll reliably have more than enough numbers to rout the Oronir without question. Frankly, I would rest easier knowing the Steppe was in your hands rather than Magnai's. So long as you don't intend to break your word to the rest of the Othard Alliance, that is.  I'll kick BOTH of your asses for as long as I have to, if that's your intent."

She smirks viciously again. "Is that a challenge, khan?"

All mirth or joy fades from Dahkar. "No, Sadu, it's a promise. I have fought through some hellish things these past few moons, and I know that the worst of it is yet to come, and it's going to affect the entire world when it does. I take it you've heard about that large metallic tower that suddenly appeared off the southern coast of Yanxia? They're all over the world, and they're part of it. The Steppe is going to get caught up in this whether the people want to be or not, and I would rather my people fight what's coming together with all of the Alliance than risk being slaughtered and their culture gone. So yes, if I have to fight you to preserve that, I will. But I'd rather see to it that the Dotharl are in a place to help preserve it and maybe even guide it to a better future without leaving tradition behind entirely."

Shock appeared on Sadu's face. "....very well, I'll admit your suggestion has merit. I will not give you an answer now, however. I will need time to think on this, discuss it with the others."

"I expected no less."

"And I demand another battle with you as payment for even entertaining your presence!"

Dahkar rolled his eyes. "I expected that would be the case as well. You DO know that we're going to be interrupted, right? Magnai and Daidukul and whatever others he decides to bring with him are going to show up and whine about us not asking his permission or something along those lines."

Sadu's vicious smirk was on her face again. "I am counting on it!"

"You don't actually want to fight me at all. You want to fight at my side."

"More than one way for our souls to burn bright, khan."

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 6: “Heartfelt Appeal”

You find two characters that click so well, look them up...and there’s no content! ‘Why?? Someone please make content!’ The pleas go unheard. You’ll just have to make it yourself. Show some love for your rare pairs today!

MORE FANTASYSHIPPING! 8D

Year 2’s Duel Monster Spirit Day! Friendly reminder that ‘Mana’ is the name Dark Magician Girl gave when she introduced herself to Syrus last year.

Colorful banners and streamers hang from the entrance hall once more, market tents set up in the main yard with flashy signs and flags announcing their wares or food or other activities. Syrus stares at it all with the same wonder as last year, and peers through the throng of students hopefully. His other friends have already gone off to find the activities they like best, be it duels or carnival games or the kissing booth, so Syrus is free to wander at his leisure and search.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, and Syrus still wonders if last year was a fever dream regardless of the way Christina keeps teasing him and the ghost of arms he sometimes feels around his shoulders. But still, he hopes and maybe this year he can confirm it for sure.

“Syrus!” a voice calls out that tickles his memory and Syrus swings to face-

“Mana!” Heat floods his cheeks. Dear Ra, did she get prettier or is he just hopelessly, stupidly crushing? “You...you just disappeared last time,” he squeaks out the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t a jumbled mess of pretty hug magic like, and wants to kick himself when Mana’s expression falls.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, looking so sad it physically hurts. “I didn’t want it to end that way. I lost track of the time and I wasted too much of it showing off.” Her voice turns a bit bitter before she shrugs it off and smiles again. “But not this time. This time you have my full attention.”

“No, no!” Syrus frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean- I what?”

Mana giggles and leans down. “Just for today, you have me all to yourself!” Winking, she taps his nose and Syrus wheezes as his heart makes a valiant attempt at pounding straight out of his chest. Leaning back, Mana clasps her hands behind her back. “So what do you want to do?”

“Ah, well, um, we, we could, we could check out the carnival games,” Syrus finally stammers out a full sentence. Gods he hasn’t been this bad about it since the beginning of the year!

Mana only giggles again as she takes his hand and heads off toward the game booths. “Don’t go hiding in a trashcan on me now.”

Syrus’ brain freezes for a full second. “YOU SAW THAT?”

“I see everything Chinatsu sees! Well, almost.”

Who the hell is Chinatsu?!

*

It takes a solid 30 minutes and two botched carnival games to finally work himself out of that last anxiety attack, but finally his heartrate feels normal and he doesn’t want to die of mortification. If he dies he won’t get to see Mana smile or hear her squeal over the stuffed Happy Lover she won from the last game. Her throwing arm is ridiculously good. She’s also amazingly child-like for...however old she’s supposed to be.

“Ooo! I wanna try that! I wanna try that!” she squeals, pointing animatedly at the food stall with an assortment of pastries. “The bean fishies! Chinatsu loves these! I always wanted to try one!”

Syrus orders them a taiyaki each and ends up going back for seconds when Manna practically melts where she stands. “It’s so rich and sweet~!”

The next half hour ends up devoted purely to letting Mana sample all the food at the festival and discover her favorites. They compare tastes and Syrus offers recommendations. Mana ends up leaning more towards milder flavors of the sweet and savory variety; too much flavor and she’ll gag on it even if she likes the taste. Syrus prefers saltier foods with just a tiny extra kick. Mana’s reaction to hot spices had been concerning but strangely fun.

“Hey, um, if it’s not rude to ask...” Syrus starts as they sit on a bench nibbling on dango. Mana tilts her head to show she’s listening and Syrus ploughs ahead before he can talk himself out of it. “Are you really the Dark Magician Girl?”

Manna chews slowly before swallowing. “What do you think, silly?”

He thinks she is, and he’d call it crazy if not for, well, everything else crazy about the last two years of his life. After literally sentient murder crazy light, he might be ready to believe anything. But then- “Why me?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me,” Manna says without missing a beat. “You didn’t just see a pretty face or a powerful mage; you wanted to know the real me beneath all of that.”

“Oh...” Syrus remembers that conversation. Christina asked him why he had a card crush on the Dark Magician Girl. Did she ask because...

“And because I want to get to know you too,” Mana continues and Syrus sputters as his poor heart makes itself known again. “I’ve gotten to watch you a lot but that’s not the same as interacting. I want you to show me who you are. And I want to show you who I am.”

“Me? But I’m...I’m not...” His eyes fall to the ground as he thinks of that embarrassing episode of hiding in a trash can, of his brother who he couldn’t even stand up to in the end, of the Society of Light that he did absolutely nothing to help stop and even got himself kidnapped by a digital woman and her duel monster lackeys.

“Syrus.” A hand on his cheek brings him back to face Mana’s deep green eyes. “You can do anything and be anyone you want to be. I mean, just look at you already.” She plucks at the yellow blazer and Syrus’ chest fills with pride at the reminder. That’s right. He did do that. All on his own. “You look so good in yellow!” Mana cheers and Syrus’ ducks his face away again. He doesn’t know how to handle all these compliments! “Believe in yourself, and when that’s hard to do, believe me when I say I believe you can do anything.”

Those words might mean more to him than any other praise or pep talk he’s gotten before, simply because they sound so genuine. He’ll hold those words close to his heart for the rest of his life, because someone as strong and powerful as the freaking Dark Magician Girl believes in him. Swallowing, he nods and clears his throat to find his voice. “So, um, what do you wanna know?”

Smiling, Mana stands and pulls him straight back to the carnival games. Oh, so they’re not talking more? Syrus has to admit to being disappointed.

“Favorite color?” Mana asks as they try to catch tiny goldfish and distracts Syrus from the extra shiny one he almost caught.

“Actually...it’s orange,” he amidst sheepishly. “But I look horrid in it.”

“Aw, I think you’d look cute in orange! Like a little pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?!”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was that an insult?” Mana asks with such genuine concern and confusion that Syrus can’t even be mad.

Shaking his head, Sryus flips the question around on her. “What about you?”

Mana stares at the water in the plastic pool. “It used to be purple...but I think I like grey a little better now.” She looks up and smiles and Syrus can’t help but feel like he’s missed something significant in that response.

“Favorite animal?” Mana asks once they’ve moved on to a ring toss game.

“Dogs,” Syrus says immediately, then feels self conscious about it. “I mean, they’re loyal and fluffy and I’ve always wanted one, they look fun to play with-”

Mana laughs. “Dogs are man’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Mine are birds.” Mana looks up to the sky. “Because they can fly. I always wanted that freedom.”

“But you can fly too, can’t you?”

“In spirit form. But I can’t go too far from my card. Like this I can only float a bit.” With a snap of her fingers, her feet lift a couple centimeters off the ground in demonstration.

“That’s so cool.” Syrus stares in awe as Mana sets her feet back on the ground.

“The silliest thing you’ve ever done?”

A deep breath as a laundry list of his most mortifying experiences assault him. Breath out. He digs deeper for an older memory less tarnished by years of ridicule and insecurity. “I wore a sand bucket on my head and called myself a king.”

Mana laughs, loud and sudden, and Syrus takes pride in his four year old self for managing to entertain two people. He doubts he’d share that memory with anyone else; it’s one of the few he has of Zane smiling.

“I used to hide in giant vases then jump out and scare the crap out of my best friend,” Mana says with a wide grin, and Syrus snorts because he can picture it clearly. “Master always scolded me, but his reactions were too fun.”

Her master? Dark Magician then? Syrus wonders what kind of person would get to hang out with both of them. Probably another powerful spellcaster. “What is he like? Your master? Or...is he here today too?”

“Mahad? No, his situation is different from mine so it’s harder for him to cross the border,” Mana says, scanning the festival for their next game. “He’s pretty strict, and doesn’t know how to take a joke. But he’s kind and selfless.” Her voice grows soft and wistful, then she shakes herself and scratches her cheek. “Honestly, we’re kinda opposites, but that’s what makes it fun.”

She points to a shooting game booth before eagerly charging toward it; Syrus shows her how to use the toy gun and manages to beat her at this game. He still lets her pick out the prize, giggling when she picks out a lucky cat keychain.

“Dream career?” The key chain sways as it dangles from her finger.

Syrus fidgets. “It may seem kinda obvious, but I wanna be a pro duelist. A really famous one,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the ground.

“I bet you’ll be more famous that Yugi!” Mana cheers and Syrus quickly waves his hand in front of him.

“No! No, I doubt that!”

“Do you wanna have kids?” she asks while they fish for balloons with little hooks on strings.

Syrus chokes and drops his string straight into the water. “I mean, uh, maybe?? I guess I’d like- like to settle down and- and have a family- eventually...”

Mana smiles, but it looks a bit sad. “Yeah. I definitely want that too.”

“Best childhood memory?” Nimble fingers rifle through the Senbonbiki strings before giving one a tug.

Syrus answers without hesitation. “Zane teaching me how to duel.”

The string is a dud without a prize attached; Mana turns from pouting to look at Syrus with curious eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah... we...” Syrus looks away, tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. “We had a good relationship back then.”

Mana hums, reaching out to take his hand and wander back through the festival. “I think...mine is meeting Atem for the first time.”

Atem. That’s Christina’s ace card. Syrus shouldn’t be surprised he’s a duel spirit too. “Are all monster cards duel spirits?”

“Not every card has a spirit attached, but I have noticed almost every design mirrors a creature or person that actually exists.”

“Weird.” Honestly, Syrus never thought about it before, but it’s really weird that a game on Earth could accurately depict creatures from another dimension. Sure, Pegasus based the original cards off carvings he found in Egypt, but those were 3000 years old! Some of the new archetypes look distinctly futuristic, and Jaden designed the Neo Spacians so explain that! Just thinking about it gives Syrus a headache.

“Have you ever lost a fight?” he ventures to ask as they nibble on chocolate bananas.

“Lots of times,” Mana laughs at herself. “Especially during training. And no matter how good you are there’s always someone stronger, so tactical retreat is necessary!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Syrus nods. The sky’s getting darker. Will Mana still be here for the fireworks? “What’s it like being a spirit?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. “It’s...lonely sometimes,” she admits, voice soft, almost forlorn. “Not many people can see us. We entertain ourselves by watching the world and taking bets on what kind of trouble Jaden will get into next.” Mana shrugs and smiles, an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, but Syrus can see straight through it.

“Oh,” he says, wishing he could put his emotions into words that wouldn’t hollow.

Mana glances out at the darkening sky, voice soft as she asks, “One thing you really wanna do before you die?”

“Huh?” The question startles Syrus as much as the oddly wistful tone. “I guess...” He hesitates. One thing? The thing he wants to do most? That he’d regret never doing? “I wanna be happy. With someone I mean!” he quickly amends and the word babble spills out from there. “I wanna get married and buy a house and share my life with someone. I know it probably doesn’t sounds that ambitious but-”

“No, that’s a great ambition.”

Syrus can’t really name the emotion on Mana’s face. Nodding, he looks down at his feet and fiddles with his hands. “Maybe...if we get to know each other better...you could be that person?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look up.

An intake of breath. “Syrus...”

The boom rattles through his bones and Syrus screams, flinging himself towards the nearest source of comfort and shelter, straight into Mana’s arms. Oh. Oh, the fireworks! Prying his eyes open reveals bursts of color lighting up the sky as another boom shakes the air. He laughs awkwardly and rights himself, murmuring an apology.

“I don’t have much time left,” Mana says, colored light illuminating her mournful expression, and the dread seizes Syrus by the throat.

“Ki-kiss me properly this time!” Oh gods his voice cracked and got really screechy, but he said it! His hands fist against his legs, trembling as her heart goes off on another marathon, and what if she rejects him? What if he read this all wrong? What if-

“Okay.”

Her kiss lingers on his lips long after the fireworks fade and she disappears back to being a spirit. He can still feel her hand against his own, and this time he knows it’s real.