#alas i had no motivation to write back then so nothing i ever came up with was finished

[fearandhatred]

reading through my very old unpublished stony wips for the first time in years and oh my god. WHY WOULD I WRITE THIS

[theleetoalerandalertoalee]

Day 8 - Truth

Kazuha x Heizou

I had to type the tword in this one and I flustered myself, but we’re gonna ignore that<33

Enjoy ^^

“Hm…? Well, if it isn’t Kaedehara Kazuha. What brings you to Watatsumi Island? I know it’s not to see General Gorou, he’s with his Excellency at Narukami Island.”

The samurai turns, lending the detective an ear, “Ah, Shikanoin Heizou, I’m here to reminisce before the Crux ships back to Liyue.”

“Oh? Is that all? Simply reminiscing?”

Kazuha nods, “yes. You may join me if you wish.”

“Why, thank you. I will.”

Heizou sits beside Kazuha, underneath a sturdy tree that shades the two from the eavesdropping sun.

The detective leans forward to look at Kazuha, “what are you reminiscing about?”

“I’m just listening to the wind as it tells me stories that people don’t remember.”

“You’re as poetic as ever.”

“Hehe, thank you. I’ve been working on haiku skills.”

“Any works you’d like to share?”

“Hmm…well here’s one:

‘Dropping rainwater,

Petals crying as roots sing

Those of land abide.’

What do you think?”

“Ah, it’s very well-written.”

“Thank you.”

“Now…why are you really here, Kazuha?”

“Pardon?”

“My intuition tells me you have an…ulterior motive, than the one you have presented.”

Kaxuha raises an eyebrow, a small smile of amusement teasing the corners of his lips, “ah? What is the renowned detective suggesting?”

“I think…you writing haikus is not why you’re here,” Heizou smirks.

Kazuha returns the detective’s smirk with a gentle smile of his own, “so, why am I here then?”

“Oh, we both know why, but I just want to hear you say it.”

“Is that it?”

Heizou nudges Kazuha’s side with his elbow, “hehe, I think so.”

Kazuha softly pushes Heizou’s elbow away, not revealing what the detective was looking for.

“Oh, come on~ surely, there’s nothing you’d have to hide from me, my friend,” the detective shifts his position to be in front of the samurai, sitting on Kazuha’s thighs.

Kazuha tilts his head, still acting cool like the whispering breeze, “precisely so.”

“With that being said…what is the mysterious wanderer wondering?”

Heizou slowly walks two fingers up Kazuha’s body, from the hip to his chest and back down again. Kazuha giggles softly, looking up at the tree branches above them to direct his laughter away from the hungry ears of the detective.

“Oh? Well what do we have here~?”

Heizou suddenly skitters his fingers over Kazuha's chest, tapping it with the lightness of a feather. Kazuha crosses his arms in front of himself, giggling even more.

“Ah, ah, ah~ I wouldn’t do that. That would simply leave other places exposed, my friend.”

The detective kneads the sides of Kazuha’s now exposed ribs.

“Heizou- hahahaha!”

“Hehe, yes? Is there something you’d like to tell me? My intuition tells me you do~”

Kazuha nods as he tries to protect his ribs, exposing his chest once more- giving Heizou the unintentional incentive to lightly poke the samurai there again. In turn, Kazuha crosses his arms again, so the cycle of teasing continues.

“Oh, do share then,” Heizou smiles innocently as he continues taking advantage of Kazuha’s ticklishness.

“Ah- hahahaha! I came here to- hehehe- to wait for you- hahahaha! I- I thought that you’d come by here- hahaha- because you like the scenery of- hehe- the island- Heizou, enough!”

Heizou stops, tilting his head in both satisfaction and surprise, “you came here...for me? Why?”

“Well, ah…you usually come here on vacation, so I… just wanted to ask if you’d like to spend it. or at least a small part of it, with me.”

“Aw, hehe, I’d be honored to~!”

Kazuha blushes as his grin intensifies, “aha, thank you.”

“Of course! Alas…perjury is a crime, my friend.”

“Hm?”

“You had tried to cover up your initial motive with a white lie, this is punishable by law.”

“Ah..that is true.”

“I sentence you to a hundred pokes!”

“A hundred what-?”

Heizou starts lightly poking at Kazuha’s chest again and the samurai falls into another fit of giggles.

“H-Heizou! Hahahaha!”

[grxceful-ly]

Hello there! I hope you're doing good!

19, 21 and 29 for the Fanfic Writers Ask Game!

hii thank you so much for sending me an ask!! i hope you're doing really well yourself. you picked some good ones and this got kinda long, i'm sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

i'm going to take this opportunity to say that something in me does not allow me to fulfill all the multichapter, long fics of my dreams so i mostly share oneshots. i wish i could be like "this is from my [insert title here] au from chapter 14!!" or something. but alas. anyway, this is from my wip sequel to the sabezra secret relationship i wrote a while back. it's almost done, i'm excited to share the full thing soon!

Maybe the Ezra Bridger who wasn’t in a relationship with Sabine wouldn’t have said that. Maybe he would’ve been a little giddy—like, wow! Sabine is actually touching me! And isn’t completely averse to it! Maybe he should have said something like that. Or just. . .smiled? Or hugged her back? Sabine still wasn’t letting go. His heart ached a little. He let his arms come around her loosely, his gaze stuck to the floor. “So. . .” he started. But nothing else came out. 

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

yes and no. i don't think i've ever had to delete an entire scene--usually i will spend a lot of time writing a scene or two and i hate it a little more than usual so i end up losing motivation for the entire project. this happens often. i don't like it.

however, sometimes i'll write a line i really like but in my heart i know it won't work for the overall goal of the paragraph or scene, so i have to delete it :( i mourn for like three minutes and then move on lol.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

goodness, the amount of star wars time travel fix-it fics i've written in my mind. that's kind of where they stay. but occasionally i jot down a scene that has a chokehold on me until it goes away. i was going to share an anakin one, but for some reason i can't find my doc with that in it :') so you get this scene from my vostress wip where asajj goes back in time. this is kind of a cheat bc i don't know if it'll NEVER be posted, but as of now too little of it is written to share much more than these snippets. also there's very little interest in a fic like this versus my usual stuff lol.

Her eyes softened. “It is more important to reject that power and preserve those things. Understand me, Vos. Truly. There is no power that can take away the pain you feel. No power that is worth it for a fleeting sense of victory.” She realized she'd put a hand to his chest, naturally drawn closer as she tried not to plead with him. This was it. If he should ever listen to her, let it be now.

and for a bonus, here's an 'asajj takes omega to meet quinlan' snippet that was just for fun and will never again see the light of day lol!

“Your jedi?” Omega asked, eyes lighting up, glancing from one of them to the other. Vos flashed a lopsided smile at Ventress. “I love when she calls me that,” he said in that smooth, unserious but oh-so-truthful voice of his. Ventress's eyes slid to him, then went up to the sky in feigned annoyance as her hand fell to her side and she swiveled to walk away. “Come on.” Unfortunately, Vos and Omega were making quick friends. He was the type to do so; always had been, and it seemed she, too, was eager to befriend anyone she set her sights on. A horrifying pair.

[imhereforscm]

Your ' Two different worlds' series is amazing! Can you write something fluffy for Scorpio x goddess reader?

"It's love"

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: The timeline the story is set in is a little after Scorpio first became a god. Also, I'm so sorry you had to wait so long, but at least it's here now. I hope you're still around to see it 😅🌹🌹🌹

Only recently did the young god start this life—a life without blood and cruelty—and he wasn't completely used to it yet.

He experienced a variety of emotions and he was frustrated at the amount of times he couldn't put a name to them. It wasn't like he ever experienced anything other than terror, suffering and emptiness before.

He was walking down the palace's hallway early in the morning—way too early for his liking, perhaps. He clicked his tongue at the noise of deities walking around and chatting energetically. "Where the fuck do they get the energy?" He muttered to himself. He might have been a god now, but he still hated mornings and his motivation to do anything was incredibly low, alas, he had to keep going.

He gripped the doorknob of the door to the department of punishments, but just as he turned it and was about to make his way inside, his hand froze in place.

The young god was barely blinking, the sight having stolen his breath away and there came the feeling he couldn't put a name to once again.

And all that at the mere sight of her. A goddess, who somehow and for some strange reason had managed to stand out in Scorpio's eyes.

He stood there like a statue, watching her as she approached, with her tunic swaying lightly and airily on her walk. "Good morning." She spoke and her voice was... Not something he hated. She bowed her head a little and smiled, before passing him by and disappearing dowm the golden hall.

"Do you fancy her?" A male voice made Scorpio's shoulders jerk and he snapped his head towards the entrance to the office. Partheno stood at the door, after creeping up at him like the deranged pervert Scorpio thought of him as. "If so, I could set you two up."

"What the hell kinda bullshit are you sayin' first thing in the freakin' morning?!" Scorpio groaned and pushed his way passed him, but much to his dismay, Partheno was thirsting to find out more and see if his assumptions were correct.

"Honestly, I'd be surprised if she already hasn't taken note of your interest in her." The god of virgo, stole a document from Scorpio's desk and sang a carefree rhythm to himself, as he circled around the desk, chased by Scorpio, who wanted that document back. "The way you stare at her is so lovestruck, it's actually adorable!" He Partheno laughed, as Scorpio snatched the paper out of his grasp.

"I couldn't care less about 'lovestruck' or whatever that crap is." Scorpio grumbled as he flopped down onto his chair and picked up his quill.

"Even if her soft, delicate hands were tickling up your sides and her kissable lips were whispered sweet nothings into your ear?" Partheno's face reddened shamelessly at his words and Scorpio's followed his lead, but dipped in shame, the vivid scenes playing out in his mind's eye.

"Shut up, pervert!"

Partheno sighed dramatically, pretending to be offended, as he headed for the door leading out of the office. "Fine fine, if my presence isn't appreciated here..."

Once Partheno was gone, Scorpio sighed, burying his face in his palms and then directing his gaze out of the window. "Could this feeling be it...?"

The day blended into night and stars started peeking out of the dark blue curtains covering the previous evening sky. The moon was half and shining faintly, yet it too added beauty to this late time of nature.

The soles of Scorpio's boots clicked against the floor of the hallway as he made his way back to his room. It's not like he had anywhere else to go. He didn't have any friends and the only purpose he had here was work, which he had finished by now. And he would have retreated back into his room, he really would... If he hadn't seen her beautiful figure, her hair swaying as she exited the palace.

The racing returned to his heart and the empty husk he once felt himself to be, was filled with the flattering of his stomach.

Scorpio looked around him and confirming that no one was around, something pushed him from within and he worked up the courage to follow the goddess's footsteps.

The trees of the garden were steady, since no wind was blowing and the starlight resembled a beacon, which he followed down an uneven path, until sounds of gurgling water reached his ears, which were tired from the constant sounds of gunshots and screaming.

His feet came to a stop and his breathing hitched, upon finding the center of his passions there.

She kept her eyes closed, dipping her hair into the stream that crossed the fresh grass and flowers and then run her fingers through them.

Scorpio swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple moving visibly as his eyes followed every movement of hers.

She slowly opened her eyes and her eyebrows rose a little, before her lips curled into a pleasant smile. "Oh, hey. A pretty night, isn't it?" She spoke and her calm voice ripped the silence apart.

"Wh... What...?" His lips barely moved and the blood rushed to his cheeks when she chuckled gently, her wet face appearing so soft, as if begging to be touched and kissed.

"I've never seen you out of the palace before." She addressed him and Scorpio almost couldn't believe his ears, that this exchange was actually occuring. "Is this your first time walking around the Heavens?"

Scorpio cleared his throat and steeled his expression into a stern one, something he always found easy to do and hide everything behind it. "Yes, there's no reason for me to be out here."

"It seems to me like you found one though, considering we're talking in this place."

His lips opened and closed repeatedly, the words not coming out no matter how hard he tried to think of something. It's not like he could just tell her the reason was her and an unnamed instinct.

"How about that." The goddess spoke to him, drawing his attention back to her. "I show you around the Heavens tonight and if you don't like it, I won't bother you again. If you like it though..." She trailed off, her gaze shifting around her and then back to the young god. "Then we can do it again some other time." She finished her speech with a smile that gave Scorpio's heart a newfound tug and it was nothing unpleasant.

Scorpio's first instinct was to agree, a sense of joy washing through him—at least that's what Zyglavis called that feeling. "I guess... But only because you seem like the person who doesn't back off!" He rushed to throw his excuse at her and she laughed, emerging from the stream, with her dress and hair completely dump.

"Great! Let's go then!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him off into the forest, where multiple fireflies flew around, their golden light reflecting into Scorpio's dark irises, which were like a canvas, taking everything into their depths.

He looked around him with curiosity and surprise, seeing all the pretty things the Heavens and its nature had to offer.

They walked side by side across the dark greenery of the forest, until they reached a clearing with a lot of flowers of many kinds and colours, basking beneath the starlight.

"What do you think?" The goddess asked, coming to stand by his side and take in his intrigued and wide eyes, appearing so innocent right now.

"They're not... Terrible."

She smiled softly at those words, relief filling her up. The honest truth was that she noticed how empty he looked every time she spotted him in the palace. She heard about his past, so she didn't wander into such tragic topics and kept their conversation pleasant throughout the night.

The months went by, moons and suns coming and going each on its own turn, without disputes and jealously and Scorpio kept meeting with the goddess.

He always tried to act indifferent and as if her charms went unnoticed by him, but she knew him enough during that time to understand the hidden meanings behind every word he spoke and every action he made.

Night had covered everything again and (name) was in her room, the soft breeze blowing the curtains of her balcony and the bright moonlight of the full moon slipping into the bedroom and crawling across the floor, as if the moon had fallen for her beauty as well and was now trying to reach her.

Rapid knocking interrupted the peace of the midnight and she was surprised at the desperation of this person enough, to fear it was an emergency.

She rushed to the door and opened it. "What's the matter?! What happened?!" (Name) wasted no time asking, seeing how much Scorpio's hands were shaking as he stood outside her house. "Talk to me, what is it?!" She simultaneously pleaded and demanded, when the young god refused to speak.

"(Name)..." He started and the goddess hushed instantly, making room for his words. "(Name)..." He repeated.

"Is it a pressing matter?" She asked, trying to push the situation forward to the important part.

"No, nothing troubling."

"Alright..." She calmed down, reassured and breathing out in relief. "What is it then? You know you can tell me anything."

"Yeah, I know... But this one..." His voice fell in volume and he swallowed thickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight between his legs. "It's... It's... Well, it's...!" He clicked his tongue, groaning and his face heated up, his shyness getting the best of him. He inhaled deeply and looked (name) in the eyes, before pushing through and speaking, in a slightly shaky voice. "I love you, (name)."

"You... Do?" She breathed, surprised at those words coming from him, but she was definitely content by them.

"Yes." He leaned against the doorframe and allowed his head to rest against it, his chest moving up and down vividly, thankful he managed to confess and didn't run away.

(Name) took his shaking hands in hers and gave them a supporting squeeze. "I love you too."

Scorpio's chest bloomed with a feeling so sweet, he swore his heart would give up on him any moment now. "No way..."

She laughed at his shocked expression and threw her arms around him, into a tight hug. "I do and I'm so happy you love me too."

He hugged her back, hesitantly at first, but he soon melted into the hug and buried his nose into her hair, pressing a kiss on the top of her soft head. "Hell... This feeling is so intense."

"It's love."

"I don't hate it. Not when it's about you."

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

[forever-rogue]

request: some christmassy idea where marcus moreno brings presents he bought for missy to the shop to get wrapped up bc he cant wrap for shit. And he wants to flirt with reader whos the one whos gonna wrap the presents but for the love of the above he cant. hes stuttering and hes flustered and its cute. And reader is like okay mister "i can use the force", heres my number, call me so we can shedule a date. And hes so shocked about it 😄😭😭😭 thank u patricia! 🌟

I see it's time to write for Mr. Moreno? Excellent 😌 Enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly returned to the store, the bag of presents in his hand a sign of defeat. How hard it could possibly have been to wrap a few presents? Apparently too hard for someone like Marcus Moreno. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, oh no, he’d spent several hours the previous evening after Missy had gone to bed attempting to wrap the clothes and other oddly shaped boxes perfectly. But instead of success, all he gained was frustration. 

Instead of another vain attempt at the wrapping, he gave up and threw everything back into the bag and made his mind that he would go back to the small department store and ask...beg if you required it, for you to wrap the gifts. 

He might have been able to save the world on several occasions, but apparently his talents ended at Christmas gift wrapping. Well, he huffed to himself as he pulled open the door, the soft twinkling of bells meeting his ears, everyone had a limit. His just happened to be a little more pathetic than others. 

Super Hero, he reminded himself with each step, he was a fudgin’ super hero for fuck’s sake. But alas, when it came to more domestic things, such as cooking, and wrapping apparently, he was far from super. He was working on it though - spending time each day to make sure he was learning - doing enough - to be the father Missy needed. For her, and himself. Things weren’t always easy, but they were always getting better. 

Although tired from a long day at the office, throwing swords around, as Missy had dubbed it, his face instantly lit up when he spied you behind the counter, an almost bored expression on your face. The last of the Christmas rush was almost over, which meant business had slowed down, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Marcus would have been a liar if he said he didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming back; sure - he wanted the presents wrapped, but let’s be honest, the man was smitten with you. Any excuse to come back and chat with you, even if it was just five minutes was good enough for him. 

He’d known you, casually, for a few years now. You had been Missy’s teacher at school last year, and he knew that you worked the summers and holidays at your parent’s store to give them a hand with the rushes. Sometimes, being the sneaky Heroic he was, he’d made up excuses in the past to come into your classroom to spend a few minutes here and there talking to you. It was hard to believe that anyone could make him nervous, to make his heart flutter and beat like a nervous schoolboy, but there you were. Managing to do it every time. 

But he’d never act on it. No, no, no. That would be downright outrageous. After all, why on earth would you be interested in Marcus Moreno? He couldn’t even wrap a present.

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you looked up from the counter you were organized and offered him a dazzling smile, accompanied by a small wave. He was positive his heart stopped at the sight as he had to remind himself to breath. After a quick inhale and exhale, he marched over to you, ready to be firm, and hell, maybe today he’d finally ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime. Why not, after all? But then he took a good look at your eyes, those soft eyes and that gentle smile and he came undone.

“Hi Marcus,” you beamed at him as he did his best to give you a normal smile in response, “what a pleasure to see a friendly face. How are you?”

“Hi,” he managed to choke out as he calmed himself. How did you have this effect on him? He was a grown man, a man with plenty of experience in dating and love, and yet this one he couldn’t seem to nail down, “I’m fine  - you know what, why lie? I’m tired and I can’t wrap presents for shit. I hate to ask, but could you help me out? I’ve seen you do it for other people and I’m afraid if I try again, it’ll be worse than the first time. It’s been awful - oh my God, I’m so rude. I’m rambling - you look pretty - nice - how are you?”

“Marcus,” you giggled at him, watching as a nervous tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. You put your hand on his, effectively getting him to calm down and shut up, “slow down. It’s okay - I’ve got you covered. I assume work is busy?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he was instantly relieved as you took the presents from and grabbed some wrapping paper to display to him. He nodded at your choice and watching in awe as you made quick work of grabbing the first present and getting to work, “I was about ready to just leave him in the bag and give them to Missy like that.”

“Ahh, it’s not a big deal,” you shot him a quick wink, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But then again, I’ve been helping my parents with this stuff for years. Maybe sometime I’ll show you how.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he exhaled as he leaned against the counter and tried to pay it cool. His heart was thumping in his chest so rapidly, he was sure you were able to hear it as well. If you noticed anything out of place, you didn’t show it, “I’ll pay you - whatever you want.”

“Marcus,” you waved him off, “there’s no need. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Friends,” he almost choked on the word as he grinned at the delicate look of concentration on your face. Your brow was furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you made sure to get all the measurements just right, “how’s everything been? It’s been a while…”

“I know,” you agreed as you started some ribbon to start curling it, “I miss you coming into my classroom all the time, I miss Missy - it’s not quite the same without the Morenos.”

How much could hint at it before he finally got the bait? You’d harbored a crush on the man for years now, even before you became Missy's teacher. He was a Heroic after all - handsome, funny, smart, and kind. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? You'd hinted at your feelings a number of times and you thought he reciprocated a few times, but you could never be quite sure. And neither of you ever seemed to make a move. You'd come close a few times, but somehow just hadn't...quite gotten there.

“I miss it too,” he agreed quietly, turning his attention to his hands, “Missy doesn’t like her teacher as much this year.”

“That’s because I’m pretty cool,” you teased gently, “you look nice too, by the way. The all black thing - pretty sexy.”

Marcus was sure his heart stopped at your words; you couldn’t seriously have said what he thought you said. Right? Right. He looked at you with wide eyes as you refused to look up from what you were doing in case you had completely overstepped any remaining boundaries. 

“I, umm…” he paused for a moment, chuckling at his own nerves as he moved to stand in front of you, “I’m shit at this. But I, umm...I like you.”

“Marcus,” you stopped what you were doing and set the scissors down to meet his soft brown eyes. He had a small smile on his face, nervous as he watched your expression to try and get a read on the situation. Honestly? He’d rather have taken down another horde of aliens than wait for your response, “it’s about time you said something. I was beginning to think you never would.”

“Oh,” he let a nervous chuckle as your words set in, “oh. Oh?”

“I like you too, Marcus,” you admitted as a warmth flushed over you, “I just...I didn’t know how to say it. I was…”

“Nervous,” you both blurted out at the same time as you both laughed. At least you were on the same page. 

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he confessed as you nodded in understanding, “I feel like an old fool more than anything...but I’d like to take you out. On a date. A real date. Like you know not just...this, and I’m sorry if this is awkward. Missy’s been telling me to ask you forever and I just feel like -”

“Marcus,” you grinned at him as you reached up and held up a finger to his lips, “you’re rambling again, silly. I’d love to. I’d love to go out with you.”

“Seriously?” his eyebrows raised in surprise as you just nodded. Needless to say, he was not expecting this - any of it. 

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “come on, Mr. Force Hands, give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

“Okay,” he looked at you with nothing but soft hope in his eyes as he fished out his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You let your hand brush over his as you took it and quickly saved your number for him, “I...yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “but don’t actually forget to text me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed out easily, “besides, I owe Missy twenty bucks now and she’ll never forget it. We made a bet - she said I’ve never get the nerve to ask.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” you grinned at him, “now come on. Come around the counter and I’ll show you how to wrap properly.”

Marcus shuffled around the counter and you pointed to the spot you had previously occupied. Moving behind him, you paused for a moment before reaching around him to put your hands over his and help guide him. He swallowed thickly at your tender touch, trying to keep himself composed. 

“Now,” you said softly, “do it like this.”

It was definitely not what Marcus had expected to come out of this evening - but he was so glad it did. Finally. 

Maybe not being able to wrap presents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[sohin-ace]

Rohan - It's got to be Rohan

This is inspired by something that just happened to Giovanna. I chose Rohan as the mysterious japanese man.

This is kind of crackfic-ey, it's not to be taken too seriously, I just had a moment with @gio-is-writing. Please don't expect any quality from this.

Also no beta, we die like men, we take it raw, my gangsters.

You were seated in the boarding room of the airport, rubbing your tired eyes. No matter how much you loved travelling and how relaxing your vacation was, you could never get used to the stress of boarding, moving around from one plane to the other and walking kilometers of huge airport grounds.

You barely had any sleep at all and your neck was killing you from the poor excuse of a nap you took in the preceeding plane. You felt like your head was about to fall off from your shoulders.

Now you could only wait for your seat number to be called for your next flight back home after another bizarre adventure.

You tried to mute out the dull background sound of people in the airport, staring out the large window right to the vast runway where workers were signaling pilots and directing planes to the parking zone and moving around to who knows where, making sure air traffic was fluid and secure.

Barely able to focus on the boring sight, your eyes instead fell upon not what was across the glass but rather was was reflecting it.

Right behind you was a young man, seated just there. You could make out his handsome features and beautiful face from where you were.

Now, you tried not to stare and act like a creep, but no matter what you did to distract yourself, your attention always came back to this beautiful stranger sitting so close behind you.

He seemed to be about your age, nicely-styled dark hair, and with very intriguing sharp eyes. He looked asian-phenotyped, but you could never be sure of his exact origins. You could only guess he was most likely japanese.

He had came from the same plane you just landed from and your departure destination was a place known to be popular amongst the Japanese population, so you speculated.

But how could you confirm? You could never just go talk to him. You just couldn't dare. You couldn't imagine walking up to random people asking them if they were japanese or not based on nothing concrete.

Talking to him was out of the question, you thought to yourself. He looked so handsome and intimidating. A normal, basic person like you couldn't just come up to him and strike a conversation, not even knowing if he spoke your language at all. You couldn't muster the courage to do so.

In a pit of despair, you thought of the brilliant idea of trying to peek at his phone discreetly through the glass reflection. Maybe you could see which language it was set in, clearing up the mystery once and for all.

... But all in vain unsurprisingly.

You rubbed your temples in frustration. You didn't know why you were suddenly so infatuated with this man, but for your defense, he was the most interesting thing in the boring, endless wait of your boarding.

Ah, yes. Like that could work. You just had a thing for coming up with clever ideas that you would never execute.

You thought. Hard. What would your best friend do in this situation? Maybe you should just throw logic out the window and punch him in the face for daring intruding your already fragile peace of mind.

Or maybe on the other end of the spectrum you should go out there and kiss him until he doesn't remember his own name.

Sighing at your own very stupid and mindless thoughts, blaming boredom and exhaustion for them, you glanced back at whatever just made noise somewhere in the boarding room.

It seemed like the mysterious supposedly Japanese stranger had the same idea and glanced behind him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment.

You couldn't help but take in his features once again, this time even more clearly. His eyes were greener than emeralds and his skin looked as gentle and heavenly as porcelain. You couldn't believe how soft yet inexpressive he actually looked like from this close.

You even took in his strange bandana, suddenly curious about the odd shape and thinking that could make for a great conversation starter. Nothing weird about asking some stranger about their fashion, right?

But alas, before you could even think about opening your mouth, the beautiful man had already turned back around to mind his own business.

You pouted, thinking of the lost opportunity. The butterflies in your stomach and the burning warmth in your cheeks completely staining your proper judgement on the situation.

Oh you two must be meant for each other. You looked back at the same time, your eyes met. That was a sign, you could already hear the wedding bells singing your union. Your heart was stammering.

Oh you couldn't wait to tell your best friend all about this fictional husband you haven't even talked to at the airport, knowing they would absolutely approve of your ectoplasmic relationship and would root for you all the way, like the supportive friend they were.

You stood up. Maybe you could walk around a bit in his direction, pretending you had something to check somewhere farther in the boarding room, motivated by your own inside pep-talks.

You had no idea what you were doing but you hoped to get his attention somehow. Who knew what could happen. There were plenty of people out there having incredible stories straight out of movies where they found love in such improbable ways, meeting people from across the world once and ending up meeting them again in impossible circumstances or somesuch.

Maybe the little child inside you wanted to live that kind of fantasy as well.

You suddenly regretted looking so awful today. Make up and hair barely done and hardly bothered to put on nice clothes for the sake of comfort and practicity on a long and tiring trip.

Trying to act as nonchalant as ever yet still elegant, you slightly turned back around, only to realize you couldn't see him anymore.

...What? What was going on? What happened? Did he leave? Was his seat called while you were turned around?

Your heart pounded in anxiety, aching for a moment, thinking it was over. That you had lost him forever. Your one true love. The delusional love of your life. The man of your dreams. A nameless soulmate that you knew nothing about, yet that you would trade everything for, even your life.

Your lips threatened to twitch as your held back tears, regretting every decision in your life that had led you to this suffering, this tragedy. God, why did love hurt so much? Why did you have to be the one to go through this?

"Why..." You sobbed dramatically in the middle of the boarding room, walking shamefully as your heart bled. "Why did you go... Why did you have to leave me- Oh... Nevermind he's right there."

Your theatrical number instantly switched as soon as you realised you had just wandered too far and were actually walking in the wrong aisle, quickly coming back to where your and his seat were.

You did not care for the strange looks you were receiving from people sitting by who thought you were completely mental, which you probably were.

All that mattered, is that your handsome Japanese prince charming, your very own 'Ouji-sama' was right here, looking as beautiful as ever, staring down at his device and completely ignoring your entire existence.

As soon as you got back to where your belongings were, extremely frustrated with your imaginary lover's sheer obliviousness, you heard the echoed sound of the boarding room speakers call your name.

'Passenger L/N Y/N. L/N Y/N seat B-17, is requested for boarding. Please present yourself at the gate immediately."

Your mother, much more reactive than you, hurried to gather your luggage and walked towards the gate where you were expected.

You grabbed your bag from your seat and instantly noticed the object of your obssession stand up, briefly staring at his boarding pass in hand, confirming his own seat number.

He looked up and sent you an effortlessly handsome look, staring down at you for a moment and you swore you saw his eyes widen for a split second before returning back to his resting sharp look.

You blushed and flinched at his intense gaze, feeling squirmy under his scrutinizing eyes. You didn't know what to do with your hands and averted your eyes, deciding to join your mother who was already waiting in line.

'W-w-what the hell?' You panicked as he elegantly strided in your direction, his expensive-looking clothes framing his body so perfectly he looked like some Versace supermodel. 'Is he... Following me or something?! No way...'

Just as you thought he was about to board in the same plane as you, bringing your hopes up, he talked to one of the airline agents.

"I'm so sorry sir. We indeed called the seat B-17, but it's for the flight GW3180. For your flight you need to go to that boarding room, on the far left." The lady instructed, giving him thorough indications as he nodded in understanding.

You slumped your shoulders in defeat. He wouldn't board the same plane as you, he just got mistaken. Of course, you thought unsurprised, he would probably go back to Japan, he had no reason to join you, now did he? That would be one unsuspecting trick of fate.

You could just watch him as he walked away, farther and farther away from your reach, never to be seen again. Your chest tightened as his legs took your love away, guiding him to fly off somewhere out of your reach.

"Oh, you recognize him?" Your mother called out, noticing how persistently you were staring at the fine man. "He does look familiar..."

You looked back at your mother in confusion, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"He reminds me of that one japanese child you befriended when we came here for vacation. Oh it was years and years ago. You were still a little kid at the time." She chimed, reminiscent of old times.

You blinked. "I... I can't remember at all, I'm not gonna lie."

She hummed. The waiting line not shortening one bit she added, "He couldn't speak our language at all, but no matter what you were telling him, he always acted like he understood you and nodded his head." She chuckled and you smiled.

"That's... That's adorable." Your voice softened, wishing you could have remembered such a wholesome memory. "What else do you recall about him?"

"He loved to draw in the sand with you. I wonder if he ended up becoming an artist. I think his name was.... Hmm.." She furrowed her eyebrows and held her chin, deep in thoughts, "Hold on I can't remember it's been so long..."

"Well, I can't really blame you for not remembering a japanese name you heard once from years ago." You bashfully reassured her, but she still tried to remember.

"No. I know I remembered his name because it was the same at that one famous French art school.... I think it was... Ro.... What was it... Roh...an..? I think. Yes, Rohan."

Your eyes widened at the name. Yout delusional self couldn't barely hold back the joy of finally putting a name to that beautiful face that stole your heart. Needless to say you were quick to jump to conclusions like on a trampoline.

That was it. 'It's got to be Rohan!' you screamed in the comfort of your own mind.

Oh and what a beautiful name it was too. It rolled out the tongue so naturally. Rohan. Rohan...

"Oh but it's probably not him. The odds of meeting a kid years later like that in the same place are too small..." Your mother dismissed as she showed her boarding pass to the gate agents, not aware that she was crushing your tiny little hopes. "Oh well, whatever."

You liked the fantasy of some impossible reunion with a long lost childhood sweetheart love story much better. Especially with the way he stared at you, as if he remembered you, after all those years.

But for now, you just had to board on that plane and go back home pretending your feelings have never existed, for there was nothing you could do about it.

You could only dream that it had got to be Rohan.

[nad-zeta]

Vincent - Better together

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Vincent x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1100+

Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.

Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.

You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.

Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.

But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?

After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.

The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.

You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.

“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.

His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.

Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”

“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.

And so you marked and Vincent... drew?

You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.

You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.

They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath

Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”

Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.

A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”

“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”

“Jip”

You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.

Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”

With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”

[what-the-witch-stuff]

Landings Through the Grapevine

Chapter 2: Unfulfilled Expectations

Masterpost: here Go to:  Ch.1   |   Ch.2  |

_________________________

"I have news for you. One good, one bad" Shane said hours after the dance, when everyone was busy cleaning the place up. "Wait! Help me with that table first...Allright. Shoot". Shane grabbed the other side of the table and together they heaved it off the ground to carry it back to Marnie's farm. The path that led to the narrow bridge which divided the forest clearing from the rest of the village, was not large enough for them to carry the table side by side. So Shane volunteered to walk backwards while Riley gave directions. For a few moments Shane didn't say anything but occasionally looked at something over her shoulder. Then he lowered his voice:

"Ok, so...Mr. Darcy" – that was code for Elliott – "has been mingling with my aunt for almost the entire festival and now they both keep looking over at you".

"What?"

"Don't look! I didn't want to say it earlier, because I wasn't sure. But given how Marnie has been really chatty today, I bet she's playing matchmaker again"

"Oh for fuck's sake! What about Elliott?"

"Don't know, maybe he finally figured out that you don't understand his poems, or something"

"Shane!"

„I'm kidding. Don't act so horrified. Also, it's true!"

„No! It's not."

„Okay. Remember the poem he 'gifted' you at the Feast of the Winter Star? What was that about?"

Riley was preparing to answer him in a know-it-all manner but soon realised that she had actually no idea what to say. She hoped her death glare would shut him up for good. Alas, it didn't.

„You can give me the evil eye all you want. I already cringed to death when he started performing it in front of the goddam tree."

„Maybe a few metaphors and references go over my head sometimes, but that's because I never read much poetry before.

„Or maybe his writing is as inflated as his ego"

„Stop! For Yoba's sake, just tell me what's up with him!

„How should I know?"

„Then why tell me?"

"I thought you would want to know these things"

"Well, what does he look like? Does he look upset or anything?"

"Ehm",– at that Shane peeked back over her shoulder, looking rather pained as he tried to awaken his interpersonal skills: "Well he looks like a schmock, so nothing new there. Maybe that's just his –oh shit!"

"What?!"

"He's coming"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Stop! Jesus, Riley have you never been to highschool? You don't look at people you're talking shit about."

"Ok! ok, act natural !"

"You're the only one acting like a headless chicken", he hissed under his breath.

"Well, maybe I would be calmer if you –"

Shane dropped his side of the table. It came to the ground with a soft thud and Riley almost lost her footing from the sudden yank it caused on her side, forcing them to an immediate stop shortly before the bridge. This interrupted Riley's tirade and in hindsight saved her some embarrassment, as Elliott appeared by her side soon after, brushing a strain of hair behind his ear : "Good day, you two. I am so very sorry I didn't get to chat with you sooner. Can I help you with that?", he asked, having seen them struggle but obviously mistaking the situation at hand. Before Riley could even say anything, Shane intervened again : "Glad that you ask!" he said in an overly friendly manner while stretching theatrically and making a face: "My back is killing me! If you don't mind, I'd rather go see if I can help with something else" and with the blink of an eye, Shane and Elliott had switched places.

"You're welcome!", Shane murmured while brushing past her and he was gone. Meanwhile Elliott was getting into position and testing the table's weight while Riley could do nothing but watch him dumbfounded. When he noticed her staring, Elliot winked: "Shall we then?"

"YES! I mean, sure. Thanks for the help", If Riley's face looked as flushed as it felt right then and there, Elliott was gentleman enough to pretend not to notice. "Please, don't thank me! I should have been more involved with the preparations to begin with. I was just so caught up with my newest draft, that I had forgotten all about the dance until a few days ago. Oh, also, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything between you and Shane?", he added, leaning slightly towards her in mock-conspiracy.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it did look like you've been arguing, before I came over. I hope it was nothing serious"

"Ehm... I was just worried. His, eh... his 'back pain' is quite bad, but he didn't want to bother Harvey during a holiday", Riley lied between her teeth, as they made their way over the narrow bridge.

"Poor fellow, no wonder he seemed rather miffed today. But he danced like a champ!", Elliott stated sympathetically.

"Yes, he knows how much it means to Emily and didn't want to let her down"

"See, I was wondering about that a little. I did expect the two of you to be dancing today"

At that, Riley tripped over nothing, looking at Elliott with such astonishment that she almost forgot to warn him about the slight slope the path would be taking, shortly after the bridge.

"Sorry, who?"

"Well, you and Shane….?"

"Huh?"

Elliott then must have come to some sort of realisation, for it was now his turn to look flushed and embarrassed.

"Oh, Let the greater part of the news thou hearest be the least part of what thou believest." he exclaimed ruefully and smiled at her apologetically: " I should have known better than to make assumptions. I am sorry, Riley. It was something I overheard, please pay no mind to it!"

Riley suppressed the urge to ask him if he had been quoting Shakespeare again, as in 5 times out of 7 she had already been wrong. And by now, she had the nagging suspicion that Elliott chose anything but Shakespeare, just to mess with her. Instead, she stammered: "N-No, it's fine! Shane and I are close, but we are just friends...'', and almost Riley would have given into the temptation of adding something like: '...just as you and Leah, if I am not mistaken?'. But she discarded that idea as soon as it came to her. Too obvious. Though Riley was dying to get her hands on any piece of information about what kind of relationship he and the artist were cultivating, she had to be careful. The last thing she needed was the awkwardness of unrequited feelings or the loss of a friendship because of it. However, remembering Shane's assumption regarding Marnie, she continued : "...Though I do believe Marnie wouldn't mind me as her niece-in-law. But neither Shane or I see that ever happening,". She then laughed. But, following her gut instinct, she kept an eye out for Elliott's reaction, who, still dealing with his own embarrassment, couldn't help but wince slightly.

Bingo.

Shane's words were practically echoing in the back of her mind: I bet she's playing matchmaker again.

– ‘Yes she is and you won't like to find out with whom exactly', Riley thought grimly.

To say this was news to her would be a lie, sadly. Last year it had been just a few questions, if Riley was seeing someone, or if she fancied someone from the village already. Before long, Marnie had gotten more obvious about her actual motivation: "Have you met my nephew, yet? Shane. He is from Zuzu-City too. Oh, I need to introduce you to each other, next time you visit."

But said introduction flopped big-time. It had been difficult. Well, Shane had been. But Riley now knew that this wasn't anything personal. She had involuntarily witnessed his downward spiral until the fateful day at the cliffs, where Shane had finally hit rock bottom. Since then he was getting the help he needed and they could manage having a conversation that wasn't ending in a disaster. Nevertheless, as she and Shane clearly never hit it off, Riley thought that Marnie had moved on and was satisfied with talking her up to some other bachelor instead. Apparently, she had been wrong. "Please, do not believe that I usually engage in petty gossip." Elliott exclaimed and Riley knew, if his hands were free, he would probably underline his words with some dramatic gesture: " This is not why I wanted to talk to you. I would never bother you with such shallow conversation!". They finally reached Marnie's farmhouse and were greeted by Gunther and Clint, who were busy sorting Marnie's belongings back to where they belonged. Soon Elliott and Riley were relieved of their task and hurriedly shooed away. "Riley, you did enough! You've been here all day and surely your farm does not run itself", Gunther called over his shoulder as he and Clint disappeared into the house, leaving Elliott and Riley to themselves. „Well, I don't want to keep you from your duties..." Elliott eventually said rather deflated, after some seconds of them just standing there.

„It's fine! Really. I have time to chat."

„Are you sure? I would hate to inconvenience you", though Riley could easily tell that Elliott was just saying that to stay polite.

„You aren't, believe me. What did you want to talk about originally?"

Elliott immediately straightened his posture, his demeanour getting more relaxed as Riley's question offered him the chance to return their conversation back towards familiar territory.

He suspensefully cleared his throat.

"I wanted to thank you, for you have played a significant role regarding my latest draft. Well, draft is a bit much. It's more of an outline, actually."

"Really?!", Riley could not believe her ears. This was like the beginning of some obscure fever dream, where Elliott would finally announce her as his muse and declare his undying love for her…. Totally hypothetically of course, because Riley would never fantasize about such a corny situation! Ever.

"Yes! For as much as I frequent the library, I just recently noticed the marvellous collection of exhibits you have been providing to the museum. I would've never thought for our tiny valley to be such a place of wonder and history! I must be honest, my latest works were getting nowhere and I dreaded starting a new manuscript. I had gotten quite far with my latest piece. But all these treasures have ignited a new spark within me. Now I can hardly put my pen to rest. But I need more inspiration!". Elliott got more excited the more he talked. It was no longer just polite enthusiasm but an almost childlike delight that made his eyes sparkle in a way she rarely got to see on him.

"Oh that's wonderful! But how can I help you with that?" Riley was getting somewhat confused. If Elliott needed more information on the artifacts, he would be better off talking to Guntehr instead. And following that line of thought, Riley couldn't really fathom what Elliott needed of her, to fuel his newfound inspiration.

"It's about this Adventurer's Guild..."

The answer was: absolutely nothing.

"Oh", Riley tried not to sound or even look unhappy about this revelation and Elliott seemed too fixated on his own issues to notice anything, for he continued talking: "I have seen you standing next to that older gentleman, today. What was his name again?"

"Marlon?"

"Yes! He is the guild's leader, I suppose ?"

"Eh, yes, you could call him that."

"I would like to ask him a few questions. I would love to hear some of his adventures. He looks like a man who has many stories to tell. However, I struggle to get a hold of him!

Surely, I tried asking around. But before today, I didn't even know whose company he keeps. I have never seen him in town either, other than during holidays, which is why I had hoped to talk to him today. But shortly after the dance I lost sight of him and he was gone! I could tear my hair out, Riley! That man is like a ghost. How am I supposed to write about fantastic tales of danger, when I have no authentic experience to write from?!" Elliott had talked himself into such a frenzy, that he ended up being short of breath. While he needed a moment to collect himself, Riley used this pause to talk some sense into him.

"Well, you will be happy to hear that the guild building is actually very easy to find. It's right next to the entrance to the mines.", she informed him, trying to push away the feeling of disappointment. "Office hours are between 2 pm to 10 pm. Normally, entrance is only allowed for adventurers only, but technically you would be considered a potential client. And If you really cannot get in, then Clint, Willy and I see Marlon often enough that we can relay a message to him." "Is that so? Thank you so much, I knew I could count on you! I will seek him out first thing tomorrow!". With that he made his goodbyes and hurried back towards the meadow, presumably to find Leah and share his progress with her. She looked after him until his silhouette disappeared from her sight and with a groan Riley decided that it was indeed time to head back to her farm. The gleeful excitement she had felt at the prospect of being alone with Elliott, had vanished to sober disillusion. She wasn't even in the mood to get worked up over the whole Marnie-situation. Therefore, she decided to no longer think about whatever had transpired today. That would be future-her's issue to deal with. When Riley entered the premises to her own farm, the sight of the seemingly endless plot of land filled her with awe, like it did everytime. Proudly, she watched her cows, chicken and ducks peacefully napping in the sun and listened to the faint rustling of leaves above her head, as she finally made her way towards home.

[secondhand-trash]

A/N: it’s been a long time without any new bentos but its back uwu I know we usually clown osamu a lot in this series but this one is kinda where we give him the appreciation he deserves hehe also its winter and I just have to write about something winter related so enjoy ouo

Warning: sickness, Osamu being baby

Word count: 2375

(click here to see more of Osamu’s bento)

(taglist in the notes, please go to the link in my bio or send me an ask to be added to the bento taglist uwu)

-

Winter in Hyogo was lovely, by all accounts. Not too chilly, but cold enough for the gentle sunshine gracing on your skin to feel like a blessing from the universe when you walked on the streets. 

It would have been a flawless season if you were to be given the luxury of staying underneath your thick, fluffy futon every morning after waking up until your body was sufficiently warmed up and the worst hours of the day had passed before you finally had to leave the comforting confines of your bed. But alas, you wouldn’t get paid for staying in bed and before the day that such a magical occupation becomes a reality, you still had no choice but to give up on the blissful warmth of your blankets at unholy hours in the morning before leaving for another day of sitting still in a cold office with nothing but lifeless documents as your company.

You let out a sigh as the blaring screech of your alarm kept ringing, shutting your eyes tight to relieve yourself of the soreness lingering behind your vision before turning it off in frustration. The room was still dark, and it would not be until you were ready to leave the door that any light would shine through the curtains.

That was winter work days for you, always making the offer of early retirement all the more tempting.

Rolling to your side, you sucked in a deep breath to brace the impact of what was to come before lifting up the corner of your futon that you would certainly miss throughout the day. The chilly air broke through the trapped heat within the layers. You shivered as you hastily searched for you cardigan that draped at your bed side table, slipping your toes that were numb from the cold into your room slippers. Osamu shifted in his sleep at the sudden evasion to his warm little bubble, curling up uncontrollably at the sudden loss of his heat source as you left the bed.

Wait, Osamu?

“Samu?” you called out for him gently, putting your hand on top of his body that was wrapped up by the blanket that he now occupied entirely. 

“Hm...”

There was a whimper that came from beneath the layers, hoarse and muffled as the man barely moved. 

No wonder why it was so quiet this morning. Osamu was rarely up later than you, always out of the bed at the first alarm to start preparing for the day. You had taken being woke up to the smell of warm breakfast and the sound of pan sizzling for granted with it being one of the few motivations you had to actually open your eyes. 

But right now, he was still in bed with seemingly no intention of waking up. You walked to his side of the bed, clutching your cardigan closer to your body as you bent down to push down the blanket that was covering his face just a little. His brows furrowed at the miniature, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead as he clenched his jaw. His face was flushed but his lips looked dangerously chapped, the few strands of his bangs that had fallen down matted to his forehead.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, the clear nasal in his voice making it sound like there was something stuck at the back of his throat as he spoke.

“8:30.” You replied, rubbing your hand along his arm as you took in his expression.

He shuddered at the time, kicking away the blanket but seemed more tangled up by it under his attempt as he shifted and tried to get up. “Shit... that’s so late. Why did I miss the alarm?”

You did not miss the way he nearly fumbled the moment his feet touched the ground, leaping forward to hold him by the shoulders before he could fall. 

You had expected it when you saw that he didn’t get up. Osamu rarely misses his alarm, and the number of times this had happened as a careless mistake on his part was near none after he had the responsibility of Onigiri Miya on his shoulders. 

But you knew your guess was correct when you pressed your forehead against his as he slumped over you. He was burning up, his face and his entire body as it laid on yours despite it being difficult for you to hold up his much larger frame. However, the person who was basically a human furnace in your hold was still struggling to stand back up straight as you held him there.

“Osamu,” you said, patting his back and trying to urge him to lay down, “go back to bed.”

“No...” he replied stubbornly, but ended up sounding more like a child who was trying to sound serious with his voice coming out weak and shaky.

“You are sick, I won’t let you get up like this,” you peeled off his hand that was latched onto your forearm, the lines between your brows deepening when you felt how he was sweating from his palms.

“But-”

“Miya Osamu.”

He let out a defeated whine, succumbing to the way you coerced him back onto the mattress as the dizziness weighing on his head finally took over. He was still mumbling about all the things he needed to do today under his breath as you tucked him back under the covers, reminding you to contact the staff that was supposed to come to work this morning as you reassured him again and again that you would get it figured out for him.

He spoke slower and slower as you fixed the pillow underneath his head, words melting into near incoherent slurs before he finally closed his eyes back up.

You did not move away until you saw the heavy breathing returned to a steady pace, even though the loud inhales indicated that he was still having a hard time. Sighing as you relaxed your hands that had curled into fists at your side when you hadn’t paid attention, you pressed your finger to your own forehead where it felt like his heat was still lingering on your own skin.

-

You had gone back to work as usual after spending too long pacing around that morning to call for a day off completely, but managed to file in to leave early. Just the thought of a sick Osamu being alone at home had you shifting in your seat. What if he woke up while you were gone and tried to force his wobbly body to handle chores? You had never packed up your things as quickly as you did when the clock finally strike at the hour when you were allowed to leave, dashing out near immediately the moment you finished off the work at hand. 

Osamu was still deep in sleep by the time you got back, much to your relieve. He seemed slightly more at ease now than he was when you left the house, the cooling pad on his forehead sufficiently absorbing the heat emitting from him. It had been a long while since you last saw him so vulnerable, his lashes fluttering at his eyelids jumped at the way your finger brushed against his cheek when you reached to check his temperature.

“Mm...you’re home,” he fought his eyes open when he sensed you moving away under his half-woken state. 

“Don’t go...”

You forgot how needy he always was when he was feeling unwell and how weak you were against his glassy eyes. Patting the back of his head, you tried to appease him as you cooed, “Let’s try to get you something to eat first, I’ll be back soon. Ok?”

He did not seem to be happy about the suggestion of you leaving his side, but still, let you go with a whine. Grey eyes stared at you from behind hooded lids, his cheeks squishing against the pillow as his hands curled and released at the corner of the futon he was grabbing onto. “Ok...”

When was the last time you ever stood in front of a stove? You were not completely useless in the kitchen by all means, but the long period of having all your meals being taken cared of by someone who not only knew what they were doing but found so much love in doing so had reduced you to nothing but a clueless cloud as you stared at contents in the fridge. There sat the jelly you had got for Osamu, which apparently was recommended to feed to patients for increasing appetite and reducing heat according to the articles you looked up on your way home. But other than that, it was a territory of unknown to you.

There were several Tupperwares labeled with different dates in Osamu’s scribbles. He had always been smart when it comes to domesticities, making sure that the best before was always marked clearly on the package of everything he bought. The drinks and soda cans were always refilled, which you had clearly taken for granted because the suddenly empty space stood out to you more than ever before. There were a few plates stacked up at the corner with sticky notes on the side and you felt a hollowness in your chest when you saw what it said.

“Monday’s bento.”

Oh baby boy...

You clasped your hand together as you gathered your thoughts, not giving yourself the room to stand around doing nothing. There’s a patient waiting for you in bed, and you couldn’t just let him suffer through a fever with an empty stomach.

You rolled your sleeves up, bracing the winter cold that graced against your arm, before searching in your sea of memories of all the times someone had taken care of you when you were sick.

The sweet smell of rice gathered in the steam, warming up your body with each inhale. You lifted up the lid tentatively and was pleased to see the all the grains had already melted together into a soft, fluffy cloud. The strings of egg added a tint of flavour to the otherwise bland congee. It was all starting to come together, and you let out a relieved sigh to know that at least he wouldn’t have to starve. The mess around the counter was evidence that you had to stumble through each step, the ingredients that you choppily diced up still lingering around the cutting board. 

You thought of the way Osamu always out so much effort into making sure you were well fed each day and all the thoughts he had put into each bento. 

The sheer cheesiness and absolute embarrassment that followed what popped up in your head made you shiver. Since when were you the type of person who could even think of things like that? But still, your hand moved to pick up the knife that was put to the side with the other reaching for the scraps that were left from the cooking.

He would probably like this a lot.

You hope he would like this a lot.

-

“Samu? Are you awake?”

The creek of the door was met with a soft whimper. The man on the bed swung his arm over to the side so his still heavy body could move with him, a small smile crawling onto his face when he saw you.

“Took you long enough...”

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I cooked anything,” the wooden tray landed on the bedside table with a clank. He tried to get up on his own, but the shaking of his arm had you rushing to help him at once. He looked sheepish as you lifted the cover of the pot, mixing everything together with the spoon before handing it to him.

Osamu was always touched by food, but maybe the lack of taste in his mouth all day had done a number on him when he had to choke back the urge to sob when he smelt the warm steam filling his nostrils the moment you opened the lid. 

“Is that a heart?” he was grinning ear to ear as he pushed around the congee with the spoon.

“Yes,” you huffed with a defeated laugh under his knowing stare, “now hurry up or it’ll get cold.”

He looked up at you, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he pouted. 

“Feed me,” he demanded, his voice sweet and like a kid as he held out the spoon in his hand.

You knew he would be all over it. You let out a soft tsk as you took the spoon back in your hand, sitting on the small space next to him on the bed as you scooped up some of the rice.

Osamu felt a warm swell in his chest at the way you carefully blew against the congee, one hand cupping beneath the spoon before bringing it to his lips. His head was still pounding, and the dryness felt nearly painful as he had his first bite of real food of the day but he loved, simply loved the way your eyes never left him for even just a second.

The congee warmed him from within, and he indulged in the leisure of laying against your shoulder while you babied him. 

He latched on you when you were about to move away, rubbing his face against you as he whined. “It’s cold without you.”

“I need to get this in the sink or else it’ll be hard to clean up-”

“Nooooooo,” he held out for the last note of his voice, burying his face at the crook of your neck, “do it later...”

“You’re such a child when you are sick,” you joked, pushing away his bangs and caressed his jaw with your thumb.

“Yeah?” he muttered, leaning into your touch, “Good thing I have you here to take care of me then...”

You sighed, knowing that there was no way you could win when he was acting all clingy and cute like this. He let out a satisfied hum when you climbed under the covers, wrapping your arm around his waist while tugging his head against your shoulder.

“Get well soon, you big baby.”

[otonymous]

Prisoner Of Love (Ikesen Kenshin - NSFW)

Description: Can two victims of circumstance find their way to love? Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Spoilers for the first half of Kenshin’s MS.  Potential trigger warnings: angst, imprisonment, mild mentions of injuries, self-harm and death, self-loathing, anxiety, possessiveness (it IS Kenshin after all 🤣), slight dub-con elements, profanity, vaginal intercourse, squirting Word Count: ~3100 words (~17 minutes of angst and smut) Author’s Notes: Sending out a super giant thank you to the incredibly kind and gracious @azuchi-princess​ for commissioning this Kenshin piece from me.  I cannot tell you how honoured I am to have been entrusted with writing for your husbando! 🥰💕 It was an absolutely wonderful process working with you, and I’m so glad to have been able to indulge in my need for angst and smut at the same time!

(SPOILER ALERT!) This story takes place shortly after Kenshin has MC (read: YOU!) placed behind bars as his “spoils of war,” but I have taken creative license in altering the events that occur afterwards.  Moreover, the perspective shifts between that of the reader’s and Kenshin’s in the hopes of delivering that optimal punch of angst 👊🏼🤣

Please note the warnings listed above — especially the potential triggers — and avoid this read if anything makes you uncomfortable.  Otherwise, dear readers, I sincerely hope that you enjoy this piece! 💕

Chapter I (Kenshin’s POV)

Betrayal.

Cutting deeper than the sharpest blade.

Unforgiving like Himetsuru-Ichimonji, severing the red string of fate as quickly as it is drawn from its scabbard.

So why was it that Kenshin still couldn’t bring himself to hate her?

Footsteps echoing along stone walls in the bowels of Kasugayama Castle — the very place where he had her cast behind bars — Kenshin wanders, trapped in a hell from which there was no escape.

For the confines of the mind were impervious to even the God of War’s sharpened steel.

And in between each beat of his thunderous heart, he hears her: gentle tears rolling down that delicate face to fall on packed earth, the ground’s inhospitable chill reaching up through limbs to rob even the final vestiges of warmth from bone.  Her every shuddering breath is a weight upon his chest, suffocating until Kenshin clings to the reins of reason holding him back from storming her cell like a madman, animated solely by the fire commanding him to see, to touch…

…to love her.

Hands clenching into tight fists, Kenshin’s knuckles blanch whiter than his already pale skin when he slows to a stop.  Round the corner and there she’ll be.

Woman of the Oda.  The Devil King’s own.

She, who had lied in the same breath that commiserated with him as they waited for Sasuke’s return.  She, whose tears left him dazzled, catching the light of the fire like precious stones even as their salt stung, seeping into his open wounds.  She, who had held his hand within her own, caring not about sullying her perfect skin with his tainted blood.

Because tainted is what he is.  It is what he deserves.

And yet, he can’t help but see the moonlight in her gaze, shimmering like a spectre every time he closes his eyes.  Can’t stop himself from desiring the tender warmth of her smile.  Still wonders at her fearless bravado in the face of a man who brought nothing but death and destruction upon friend and foe alike.

Isehime.

No.

No, he will not see her, Kenshin thinks, gaze frosting over as he wills the ice in his veins to freeze a heart he no longer wanted to feel.  He walks away, forcing himself to believe that the sound of her sorrow growing faint was nothing more than mice in the walls.

Chapter II (Reader’s POV)

Ethereal moons beckon from scrolls depicting each of the four seasons — resplendent colours discordant against the drab stone walls on which they hang.

Cherry blossoms flutter against gold-foil skies; delicate petals frozen in time as they float across a folding screen.

Even the futon in the corner of your cell seemed fit for a princess at court, much more luxurious than the one in which you had slept at Azuchi.

The Dragon of Echigo had took it upon himself to see that his spoils of war would want for nothing, and yet he would deny you the one thing you truly desired:

The man himself.

Sasuke, Shingen and Yukimura would visit — sometimes together, sometimes in turn — graciously sharing their company for which you were so starved.  Your ninja friend swore with as much emotion as he could muster to do anything and everything possible to persuade his lord to release you, or at the very least, agree to see you.  Yukimura couldn’t stop shaking his head, the expression on his face indignant to see you treated thus, ‘boar woman’ though you were.  As for Lord Shingen, he likened you to a bird in a gilded cage, trying to tempt you with offers of freedom and a ready smile on his face that surely would’ve moved any woman to see it…

…any woman but you, that is.

For in your eyes, there was only ever Kenshin — the man who came to your rescue time and time again without knowing your true identity.  Intoxicating like the finest sake, each and every moment spent by his side became a precious embrace of a memory, emblazoned in your mind until it was impossible to forget:

The black cape that flowed from broad shoulders like a powerful wave, trailing behind him that night he saved you from those thugs in Azuchi.  The way your feet dragged behind his footsteps, moving slow just to watch him cut swift through tall grass with all the seasoned grace of a dancer.  His porcelain skin glowing from within as if lit by the light of his own moon.

And in his eyes…sorrow as unfathomable as the sea was deep, rising like smoke from sapphire and emerald in those rare moments the Dragon of Echigo let down his guard.  But alas, no more.

You had broken his trust.

How many nights have you lain awake, seeking out pinprick stars through the sliver of window high above your prison and thinking about how things might have been different?  What if you had disclosed your relationship with the Oda at the very start?  Would the press of the cold steel of his blade be more of a consolation against your neck than the heartbreak spreading from chest to limb every time you lay down to sleep?

Sleep?

No, that was not forthcoming these days — rest a luxury you couldn’t afford until the moment you could face Kenshin for yourself and tell him that you never meant to hurt him, never meant to lie.  That though Nobunaga found you first, you had no ulterior motive in approaching Kenshin other than the fact that you…you…

…simply couldn’t stay away.

No matter what anyone tried to say about him.

For even on the battlefield, every nerve singed as the stench of freshly spilt blood filled your nostrils, you still couldn’t tear your gaze from the one they revered as the God of War.  Like an immortal stepping from an unfurling scroll, Kenshin moved with the fluid grace of a master painter wielding his brush, completely at one with his sword as he dispatched his enemies with a precision that terrified and awed all at once.

And when he held you in his arms that night — the same hand which had claimed countless lives bleeding into your own as you clasped it in prayer for Sasuke’s safe return — you had felt no fear; only the wish that time would stretch into eternity so that you might forever have him near.

“Kenshin.”

You say his name once…twice…the syllables rolling off your tongue to echo down the hallway like a ghost, lonely and forgotten in the dungeons of Kasugayama Castle.  What was freedom to you when you couldn’t bear to break the shackles chaining you to a god who would never look your way again?

Chapter III (Kenshin’s POV)

“Kenshin.”

Her voice halts him in his tracks, one hand shooting out to rest upon the cool stone wall as Kenshin bolsters himself against the sudden weakness in his knees.  When was the last time he heard her speak his name?  Had it always sounded so melodic, caressing up the spine to curl gently upon the lobe of his ear?

That she is calling for him at a time when she should’ve been fast asleep is a source of elation and anxiety all at once, She is thinking of me tempered by the dread in knowing that she wasn’t getting the rest her body needed.  And slowly, slowly…the scales start to tip: if she didn’t sleep, she’d become too exhausted to eat.  And without eating, she would…

…die.

The nightmare would begin anew.  Except this time, it would be her blood on Kenshin’s hands, spilling crimson over the scars left behind by Isehime’s lifeless body.

She’ll slip away from you like the other, the voice in his head chastises, full of malice as darkness begins unfurling from the corners of his mind, tightening the vice in his chest.  They come hard and fast, thoughts tangling one over the other like a labyrinth of vines from which there was no escape:

Poison runs through your veins.  Loving her would only doom the girl to misfortune and regret.

If she is not yours, could you possibly surrender her to anyone else?

You cannot outrun your curse.  All those you hold dear will end up like Isehime: sleeping in the cold earth.

No one must lay eyes on her beauty, witness her elegance, know of the rare flower blooming in the depths of this dungeon.

No one but you.

Fist pulling back, Kenshin releases the full force of his strength in a punch to the wall.  Bruised bone and shredded skin send blistering pain to interrupt the cacophony in his head, silence reigning supreme once more until

“Kenshin?”

…she calls for him again, voice coloured with anticipation this time.  He hears a shuffle, sees her in his mind’s eye — throwing off the covers of her bedding to press against the bars, straining to peek around the wooden slats that kept her from freedom.  Kept her from him.

“Please, Kenshin…is that you?”

He knows not why he does it, body moving before his mind is even aware.  Kenshin had managed to make his way to her cell undetected every night since he put her there, standing silent in shadowy corners just to watch her sleep, allowing the rise and fall of her breath to soothe him with the knowledge that she was still very much alive.  But now, in a single moment of thoughtlessness, he had thrown it all away.

She gasps to finally see him and even the sound of that is beautiful, resonating clear like the note of an expertly plucked koto.  His gaze falls on her tightened grip around the bars, follows the solitary tear gathering starlight as it rolls down her cheek.  And when her eyes widen in horror to look upon the state of his injured hand, Kenshin feels it:

A shift deep within, barely perceptible but wholly significant, like ice cracking beneath the surface of a frozen stream.

And the rush of waters that follows drowns the lovers in a flood from which neither was capable of nor willing to escape.

Chapter IV (Reader’s POV)

Perhaps he really was a god, answering every prayer that ever slipped past noiseless lips to materialize before you in that prison.  His white kimono is pristine beneath that black cloak, as if emphasizing the sanctity of his being, the unalterable distance between Uesugi Kenshin and a mere mortal such as yourself.  But then the rivulets of red run down that swollen hand to tell you otherwise; the revelation bittersweet because maybe now, there was a way for you to be together, complicated though circumstances were.  

So you reach for him through the bars and he complies, watching as you lay kisses upon bruised fingers, feeling the familiar sting of your tears as they seep into wounded flesh and broken hearts — full of sorrow, full of joy…and impossible to stop.

“Push me away.”

His voice is soft for the hard edges of his words.  Head lifting, you meet those striking eyes, focused and still.  Yet, you felt the storm brewing in those blue and green depths, turmoil barely concealed beneath the ice of his gaze.  And there, standing before the man whose very blood stained your lips, you refuse.

Lightning flashes in those eyes and suddenly, his fingers are curling tight about the sleeve of your kimono, Kenshin pulling you close through the bars in one swift motion until the stilted rhythm of his breath is dancing hot over your skin.  

“Say it.  Say you hate me, that you want absolutely nothing to do with me.  Do it now or else—”

“No.  Never.  How could I ever bring myself to hate the one I love—”

The grimace on his handsome face cuts you off, the great Dragon of Echigo trembling at the very word, love, like it was dirty, taboo.  And as the final threads of control slip from his grasp, Kenshin is moving once more without thought — his body a slave to the dictates of the heart.  Yanking on the ring of keys hanging from his tapered waist, Kenshin throws open the door to your cell and in an instant, he is by your side.

“Fine.  Then I’ll make you hate me.”

His whisper is a promise.

The keys clatter as they’re thrown to the ground, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears, deafening with every pounding beat of your heart to feel his lips on yours for the very first time.  The insistent tongue pushing into your mouth carries a hint of sake, the fervour of his kiss leaving you intoxicated and desperate for more.

Long fingers thread through the silk of your hair, Kenshin’s grip gentle yet firm as he angles your head to deepen the kiss, bringing you closer and closer until the end of his exhalation marked the beginning of your next breath.  And hadn’t it always been this way, you forever chasing after the mystery that was this beautifully broken man?  The intensity of his want is a spell that bewitches, inexorably pulling you into the crucible of his desire, passion matching yours flame for burning flame until all else was extinguished.

Good and bad, right or wrong.

Words insignificant like ash in the face of this all-consuming love.

“Hate me,” Kenshin begs, teeth sinking into your lower lip until the taste of your blood mixed with his.  “Please…or else I’ll never give you up.”

Open-mouthed kisses now trailing wet along the column of your neck, your fingers find purchase in his golden hair, pulling hard as you yield to the sensation of his breath moving lower and lower still.  Kenshin groans, the sound resonating from deep within his chest to send a rush of heat that dampens the sacred space between your legs.

Body ready and heart set, your mind had been made up long ago.  So you grasp onto those shoulders — broad and strong — to pull Kenshin up before you.  And in the silent space between the beating of twin hearts, you say with a conviction so strong there could be no doubt,

“I am yours.”

The sound that catches in his throat is guttural, almost feral as those eyes of emerald and sapphire train on you with the intensity of a thousand suns.  A sea of emotions flit across that handsome face, subtly shifting until one finally wins out:

Need.

You barely feel it though it must’ve taken considerable force to tear your obi off, the sumptuous kimono he gifted you with slipping from your shoulders as the God of War sets you upon the futon fit for a princess.  Elegant even in haste, Kenshin disrobes with the grace of snow falling on frost-covered pine, revealing porcelain skin stretched over perfectly sculpted muscle that beckons to your every nerve.

And before the dungeon’s chill could rattle your bones, he gathers you into the heat of his embrace.  Skin to skin, the arms wrapped around you tremble when he whispers, “I’ve wanted you so desperately, I-I don’t think I can hold back.”  

Head falling back onto your pillow, you will Kenshin to see the sincerity, the surrender in the darkened gaze that reflects his very image.

“Then give me everything.  I want…all that you are.”

It tears a breathless gasp from your lips, mouth drawn open in a silent scream when Kenshin fills you to the hilt with a single thrust — the thick, hard heat of his cock testing the limits of your body with its size.  Equally skilled in bed as he was on the battlefield, the God of War is a force to be reckoned with, the swing of his hips graceful even as they connect with yours, ruthless in speed and intensity.

He moves within your body like he belongs, pulling out only to dive even deeper into slick depths until pleasure bloomed pink along your skin, the hardened tips of your breasts so enticing Kenshin couldn’t help but take them into his mouth in greedy turn as he continued thrusting, harder and faster until your legs began to shake.

“Oh god, Kenshin!  You feel…so…good...ahh!—”

Pants and screams echo down darkened corridors, the sound of your pleasure in being taken this way resonating in the corners of every prison cell until you think to bite onto the sleeve of your kimono.  But Kenshin just shakes his head, the sweat of exertion glistening on his body as his fingers move towards your mouth.

“No, I want…hmm…to hear you.  Every sound you make is…precious to me.  Let it out.”  

With that, he removes the embroidered fabric, lips pressing to yours to swallow every licentious moan for himself as he props your legs up against his shoulders.  All of a sudden, like pieces of a puzzle sliding into place, the motion awakens sensations you never before knew existed.

Unable to scream with your lover’s tongue in your mouth, your body responds in the only other way it knew how: convulsing beneath Kenshin until he is forced to pull out, allowing a flood of your arousal to cascade past swollen lips, spilling down the insides of your thighs in a lewd display that wets the bedding beneath your entwined bodies.  And yet,

“More.  Please, Kenshin…I want more…”

…you were insatiable.

The sight, sound and smell of you so undone ignites a fire inside the warlord, his mind scrambled by lust.  And when he slides into you once more, he fucks with absolute abandon, yearning for complete union even as he leaves you breathless to finally spill into your depths.

* * *

You awake to moonlight glowing soft beyond shoji screens and the rhythm of a heartbeat, measured and slow beneath your ear.  The robe you wore was fresh and soft; vague recollections of Kenshin gently caressing your fatigued body with a washcloth filtering in and out of your thoughts.  At some point, he must’ve carried you to his chambers, sleeping now as you were upon his chest.

Lifting your head, you gaze at your lover in repose.  It fills you with affection to see him — heart tightening to bind you to this man.  And as his muscular arm winds about your waist, you knew you would forever be a willing prisoner to his love.

Thank you so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[tomuras-doormat]

Subordinate - Tomura Shigaraki X F!Reader

Wow, ok. Sorry for the lack of work. This story and the Overhaul story have been rewritten multiple times and I haven’t had the motivation to continue writing them for awhile, hence why they took WAY longer than expected.

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Uh, just kinda sad? 

You and Dabi had finally come home from an exhausting mission. It wasn’t a hard one, just annoying. If you thought about it, it was more like an errand that Shigaraki wanted you guys to do. Based on the game titled “Stardew Valley” that was in your hands, it was clearly just some dumb errand. Looking at the bar you saw Shigaraki talking to one of the new recruits, something about a mission for all the rookies. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have a little crush on your scary boss. Maybe it’s because he screams “danger” that you’re attracted to him, but whatever it is you still like him. Love him? You’re not all too sure yourself how strongly you feel about him. You walk over to the man you call boss and hand him the game. You may not be able to see his face, but from the way he immediately stopped the conversation with the new girl you could tell he was excited. With a quick nod to you and a “we’ll finish this conversation later” to the girl, Shigaraki was off to his room to play his new game. “Later” to Shigaraki means days, so Shigaraki will probably be in his room for a couple days, maybe even a week, only stepping out to get food or use the bathroom. Which means you won’t be able to see him either unless he asks you into his room. The last person who stepped into his room when he was on his FNaF kick, well, you don’t talk about it.

You and Dabi shared a glance, a mutual understanding that had both of you heading to the bar and asking Kurogiri for a shot of vodka. “I can’t believe the boss tricked us into getting him a stupid game” said the raven haired man. You smiled and let out a small chuckle. “I mean he did make it seem like it would be dangerous. Either he was having fun with us or he was afraid we’d say no if he asked us to get him a game.” Kurogiri set the shot glasses in front of both of you. You and Dabi shared a little toast to your stupid completed errand and downed your drinks. Dabi asked Kurogiri for another shot, you weren’t too big on drinking so you said your goodnight to Dabi and headed to your room. You were one of the lucky ones who had their own room and you were thankful for that. Even though the walls are thin, you at least have a space for yourself that you can escape to and relax. 

You closed your door and walked over to your bed to put your pajamas on. Nothing too flashy, just a pair of fuzzy pants and an oversized tee shirt. Another plus of not sharing a room, you could wear whatever you wanted. You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your dirty ceiling. You’ve tried to clean it before, but nothing ever works. Like the stains are permanent and it’s super unflattering. You may be a villain, but that doesn’t mean you want your room to be dirty. Alas your ceiling has been your greatest challenge with your room. Laying on your bed, you let out a sigh and closed your eyes. The whole Shigaraki issue was starting to bother you, how much did you like him? Did you just admire him or do you actually love the guy? What would happen if you told him you loved him? What would he even say? Lot’s of questions ran through your mind, but as more questions came you found yourself getting even more tired and eventually you were fast asleep.

When morning came you felt even tired than you did before you went to bed. Maybe all that thinking messed up your sleep. You rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes and changed into your usual clothes, brushed your hair out and headed out to the bar. You’d been wearing the same outfit for as long as you could remember, maybe it’s time to get a new one, or at least some different clothing items to add to your closet. Looking around the bar you saw no signs of your fearless leader, so you told the next best person. “Hey Dabi, I’m gonna head out, I’ll be back later.” you said as you put your shoes on. Dabi nodded, “Be back before 9 so we can have our traditional shot.” You laughed at his request and nodded. You put on a mask and hat and headed out the door. You’re not exactly a “famous” villain, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little cautious. Even though you were just out yesterday, it felt next to go out and nod have to complete some mission; or errand. 

You didn’t have much cash on you, in fact all your money was just coins that you’ve picked up off the street. After 3 whole days of just searching for loose change you managed to get about $120 out of quarters and dimes. Of course you never told Dabi because he’d probably steal it on you. 

Walking down the side walk gave you a peaceful atmosphere to think in. Maybe you could find an answer to your struggling feelings on how you felt about your boss. Boss. He’s your boss, does he even want a relationship? Would he even want a relationship with a subordinate? The man only seems interested in destroying the Hero Society, he probably hasn’t even thought of having a girlfriend. 

You walked into the clothing store still with the questions flying into your mind. All unanswered questions. You shook your head a bit and started to walk around the store. Everything was relatively cheap so you could possibly get 8 or 9 items. Maybe even some small accessories. Would Shigaraki like you if you dressed more feminine? Maybe if you wore a little makeup? You sighed as you looked at the dress, even more questions you didn’t have an answer to. You looked through the sizes to see if they even had your size, most stores usually didn’t have it, but what can you expect for shopping in a nearly abandoned part of town. You smiled as you found your correct size and put it over your arm. It was a pretty dress so even if Shigaraki didn’t like it you could just wear it for yourself for when you go out. You walked around the store for a bit longer and ended up finding a couple shirts, jeans and a pair of leggings. You even found a necklace that would match with the dress! After buying the items, you asked the store clerk if you could change into the dress. The questions will be left unanswered unless you make an attempt to have them answered, so when you get back to the base you’re going to “confess” to your boss. Is it still a confession if you’re not certain on your own feelings? 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled a bit. The shoes clearly didn’t match but it’s not like you wear your shoes in the base anyways. For once you actually look like, a girl. You had been wearing such dark and tattered clothes for so long, you’re happy that you actually look feminine. Feminine. You blushed at the thought and looked away from the mirror. You really did have a crush on Shigaraki.

You had some extra money so you decided to buy some snacks for Shigaraki, maybe it’ll score you bonus points by giving him his favorite snacks. You held the bag tightly as you made your way back to the base, ecstatic to get back and finally confess to the man who has been running through your mind the past couple days. Will he be flustered? Will he be expressionless as always? Either way it didn’t bother you, that stone cold annoyed look made you like him even more. You liked your fearless leader; Tomura Shigaraki. 

You took your mask off as you made your way up to the abandoned bar. How should you say it to him? Should you be blunt or try to give him hints? Shigaraki probably doesn’t have any experience with girls so hints might not work. You smiled at all the possibilities as you walked into the bar, taking your shoes and hat off you looked up to see Dabi on the couch. Your smile immediately vanished when you were met with Shigaraki and that girl he was talking to yesterday making out. You were frozen, was this really happening? Why? She just joined last week. You bit your lip and quickly walked past them, heading to your room. You stopped and looked down at the bag in your hand, looking at all the snacks that you had bought. You smiled a bit and hung the bag on Shigarki’s door handle, you wouldn’t eat them anyways so it’d be a waste. You made your way into your room and closed the door behind you.  “It’s ok, you were just confused on your feelings is all, it’s not either of their faults..” you said quietly. Your eyes started to fill with tears as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Did you really think this dress would win him over? It’s an ugly pattern, it has a couple holes in it and it doesn’t even flatter your body. You slide down your door and pull your knees to your chest. At least you can still be his subordinate. Taking orders from him as you watch him fall in love with someone else.

 Because why would he like you?

[cobaltusami]

Tropical Vacation pt. 1

Hey hi hello! So I'm going to be starting to post the 50 follower special over the course of this week, I have proof read 10,000 words worth of writing so hopefully by the time I have all the parts already written posted, I'll have the rest of it done or almost done!

There aren't any real tickles In this part because I was setting up for the rest of the story, but there's a close encounter near the end. Next part will have lots of tickles!

Characters In this part: Makoto, Leon, Mondo, Chihiro, Taka, Sakura, Hina, Hiro, Celeste, Kyoko

Words: 1,944

PT 1: [You are here.], PT 2: [Click here.]

It was a normal day In Hope’s peak academy-- If there was ever such a thing. The students were gathered In the dining hall eating breakfast as they normally do and chatting amongst themselves.

The energy was pretty calm today, Hiro cheerfully pointed out upon arriving, only to be told not to jinx them.

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

“Hey, do you hear something?” Makoto asked hesitantly. Kyoko nodded and closed her eyes momentarily, focusing on the odd sound.

“It sounds like… Ocean waves.” She concluded, her lavender eyes scanning the room curiously.

“Ocean waves? Why would we be hearing the ocean?” Makoto pondered aloud.

“Hina, Is that not what It sounds like to you?” Kyoko asked the swimmer, who had perked up at the mention of the ocean.

“You’re totally right! I hear It too!” She agreed.

Leon looked to his left where a speaker was attached to a support beam. “It’s coming from over here. Don’t tell me, Monokuma…” he trailed off with a heavy sigh.

As if he were Beetlejuice and his name had been mentioned 3 times, a wild Monokuma appeared from out of seemingly nowhere. “I thought you students might benefit from a change in scenery! I wouldn’t want you getting TOO depressed, You might get too depressed to kill anyone!”

The whole room heaved a collective sigh. “For the last fuckin’ time, We aren’t going to kill one another! So you can go fuck yourself!” Mondo snapped.

“But Robots don’t have the right parts for that!” Monokuma retorted, looking dejected. “How could you be so cruel? Pointing out my insecurities like that…”

“Yeah yeah, This Is great banter and all but--” Leon wasn’t about to sit through another hour of Mondo and Monokuma going back and forth, not after the last time. “What the hell do you mean, ‘Change of scenery’?”

“Good question, Kirishima!” Monokuma responded. “Oh, Whoops, Wrong series!”

“Has Monokuma finally lost it?” Hiro whispered. “What’s he talking about? Series?”

“I dunno... Did Monokuma ever have It to begin with, Man?” Leon whispered back.

“Anyway!” Monokuma cleared his nonexistent throat. “I thought I would liven your surroundings up with some ambience for a while, What do you think? Pretty realistic huh? You can practically feel the ocean breeze right?”

Makoto exchanged glances with Kyoko, not trusting this little shit for a second. “That’s It?”

“What? Were you expecting more?” Monokuma asked, tilting his head.

“There’s not going to be like a shark In the pool or anything… Right? This is it?” Hina asked hesitantly.

“Don’t give him ideas.” Makoto said, exasperated.

“Eh? Why would I do that? I want you to kill each other, Not become shark bait!” The bear retorted. “If you don’t believe me, go check around the school. I don’t have time to explain my feng shui to you, I have places to be!”

As abruptly as he appeared, He disappeared In an annoyed huff. Leaving the dining hall confused.

“So, Does everyone else think he’s using paranoia as a motive again or Is It just me?” Leon asked in a deadpan tone, a few students nodded in agreement.

“I for one would welcome a change in pace! Perhaps he is legitimately concerned for our mental health!” Taka spoke up. “We should absolutely check out the school after breakfast to see what’s changed!”

“T-Taka… Bro…” Mondo sighed. “Monokuma don’t give a shit about us, This Is obviously a trick.”

“What did he mean by that?” Chihiro asked quietly. “He has places to be?”

“He was probably just bullshitting us as usual.” Leon replied.

Kyoko hummed quietly, skeptical. She had also caught that unusual dialog line.

“Let us finish breakfast and then go look around.” Celeste suggested, taking a sip of her tea.

Everyone agreed and the energy of the room returned to It’s previous lightheartedness.

Upon exiting the room afterwards, the students noticed inflatable palm trees and random piles of sand scattered across the common area.

Makoto stared at the ‘decor’ In awkward silence, there’s no way it could be this harmless… right?

“It appears as though Monokuma really did do some redecorating…” Kyoko hummed thoughtfully, though not fully convinced of the remodel either.

“It’s…” Hina trailed off, an inflatable Monokuma wearing a grass skirt catching her eye.

“Tacky?” Leon suggested, kicking one of the Monokuma decorations out of his way.

She eyed a giant inflatable flamingo as she replied. “Kind of cute? I mean, At least It’s different.”

“Different, It certainly Is…” Sakura mumbled, sticking by Hina’s side just in case any of these inflatable beach toys decided to spring to life like Monokuma and try to attack the Swimmer.

“I think It looks fuckin’ stupid!” Mondo scoffed.

“Not just that, Monokuma has completely made a mess with all of this sand everywhere!” Taka seemed more outraged about the mess than the ominous looming threat.

“Sakura-- Look at that!” Hina pointed excitedly at a massive flamingo floaty. You could literally fit multiple people on it. “It’s so cute! I’m so gonna put this in the pool!”

“Hina, What do you need an inflatable this large for?” Sakura sighed. “You don’t even use them.”

“So that we can both chill on it together and pretend we’re at the beach, Duh!” Hina giggled, The martial artist couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at that.

She was about to say something in response but felt something light land on her head, She instinctively grabbed it and inspected it. It was a pink lei. “What the… Where did this come from?”

“The fuck?” Mondo grabbed a blue lei off of his shoulder.

Hina perked up as a yellow lei landed in her hands. She looked up in the direction It came from to see Chihiro standing atop a massive duck floaty that was similar in size to the flamingo. In their hands they had several more lei’s.

“Chihiro, where did you find those? These are so cute!” Hina squealed, happily putting the lei on.

Chihiro giggled. “I found them sitting in a box next to the door.” They replied, smiling.

Sakura and Mondo both looked up at Chihiro in silence for a moment as they both processed what they were looking at. But once they did…

“CHI!” Mondo yelled, alarmed.

“Chihiro!” Sakura gasped.

“Y-Yeah?” Chihiro asked meekly, startled by the unusual reaction from their friends.

“What are you doing up there??”

“Get down from there right now before ya fall and hurt yourself!”

“What are they now, Chihiro’s parents?” Leon asked, exasperated.

“I mean, If I had to pick anyone here to be my parents, I’d pick these two.” Makoto chuckled quietly.

Chihiro frowned and went to climb off of the duck’s head but they stumbled and squeaked as they went crashing towards the floor.

Mondo dove for the small programmer but Sakura had already seen they were gonna fall so she had taken off in their direction.

Sakura managed to catch them in her arms but didn’t anticipate Mondo also diving for them, she figured Mondo would have seen she was already on it but evidently not.

Mondo ended up colliding with Sakura and the two went tumbling to the floor, luckily Chihiro hadn’t been collateral because Sakura had just put them down.

“OW FUCK!”

“Ugh…”

Leon and Hiro both cracked up laughing at the two, but quickly stopped when Taka and Hina sent them death glares.

Mondo laid there, winded. His upper half was draped across Sakura, She had tried to catch him to break his fall but underestimated how much momentum he’d built up and they both ended up hitting the floor a few times whilst they tumbled.

“Oh no! Are you guys okay?!” Chihiro gasped, rushing over to them with teary eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would get hurt!”

“Hurt? Who says... we’re hurt?” Mondo tried to put the programmer at ease, mustering up a lopsided grin. “I’m fine, what about you Sakura?”

She was silent for a moment, Most likely also winded from hitting the floor so hard.

“Sakura?” Mondo repeated, pushing himself up off of her, his hand brushing against her side. Her eyes snapped open, suddenly very alert as she jerked upwards into a sitting position.

“Y-Yes. I’m fine too.” She blushed, her arms wrapping around herself self consciously.

Mondo made a confused face. “What’s wrong? Ya hit your head?”

“No, I… Nevermind.”

Chihiro’s face scrunched with confusion too as they replayed what had just happened in their head. Then they realized. “Ohh! I think I know!”

“What Is It?” The Biker asked, turning his head to look at the small student.

“I-It’s nothing. I suppose I’m just a little bit winded from you landing on me.” She said calmly, her face unreadable.

“Well… That could be too…” They mumbled, thinking over It more carefully.

Suddenly, Hina began laughing, as she had apparently figured out what happened. “Oh my god! Mondo! Dude she--”

“Hina!” Sakura interjected quickly, sensing danger. “Don’t even think about It!”

“Will someone just tell me what the fuck is going on!?” Mondo snapped.

“I can’t say It, Because Sakura might kill me If I do.” Hina snickered.

Chihiro sat down next to the Martial artist. “Are you hurt…?” they asked quietly, putting their hand carefully on her side.

She flinched visibly and looked at the small student, blushing. “N-No. I’m fine, Really.” she tried to reassure them. Because she was too busy worrying about Chihiro, she didn’t catch the look of realization across Mondo’s face. Ohhh and the evil grin that followed…

“Sakura, Don’t tell me…” Mondo grinned as the white haired student looked back at him. “Are you ticklish?”

She recognized the almost predatory look in his eyes, and quickly put distance between them by backing up then rising to her feet. “No.” she responded In a serious tone.

Mondo stood up and was slowly advancing towards the slightly nervous woman. “I think you’re lying~”

“Taka!” Sakura said suddenly. “I think Mondo’s bleeding.”

“What!?” Taka was quickly in front of his Kyoudai, checking him for injuries, also effectively standing in his way.

“Wh-what? No-- Taka I’m fine! She’s tricking you!” Mondo stammered, incredulous that Taka would fall for such an obvious trick.

“Trick or not, I need to make sure you’re okay!”

This gave Sakura a chance to get away from the biker, sneaking past back to the safety of her room.

Once Taka was sure that Mondo wasn’t bleeding, he backed off. “Ogami! This isn’t fuckin’ over!” He called down the hall in vain.

“I believe It Is!” She called back, Hina was nearly on the floor laughing her ass off.

“S-Sorry Kyoudai…” Taka meekly apologized.

Mondo sighed. “It’s fine. You were just worried.”

Taka was about to say something else but felt a lei being placed around his neck, he looked down at it in surprise. It was red to match his eyes. “Ch-Chihiro?” he stammered, turning around to face the Programmer.

“I saved the red one for you, there was only one in the box and I thought it would look the best on you.” They smiled.

Taka teared up at the kind gesture. “Th-Thank you! I shall treasure this for as long as I shall live!”

Chihiro giggled as they hugged the strict student, making him even more teary as he returned the hug.

“Using Taka against Mondo to escape Is really smart…” Leon said quietly to Makoto and Hiro.

“Yeah, How come we never thought of that?” Hiro replied.

“That would require you all to have a functioning brain in your heads.” Celeste smiled as they gave her pointed looks.

Kyoko smirked at this, apparently agreeing with Celeste’s sentiment.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! Could I request the V3 boys reactions to their s/o becoming the blackened because they were trying to save them.

Yesssss more angst! These were fun to write!

TWs: Blood, Death, Suicide Mentions, and Major DRV3 Spoilers

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

Ryoma

No..it couldn’t be true..could it?

Ryoma couldn’t believe you’d actually kill someone, though your reason came as a shock: It was to save his life.

Kirumi was plotting to murder him after the second motive came out. And she obviously panicked when you showed up instead of him, so she tried attacking you.

But you retaliated, leaving her body in the bathroom and altering the crime scene to make it look like she slipped while cleaning it.

You didn’t want to kill anyone, but you were terrified she might target him some other time if you didn’t stop her.

Yet Ryoma vehemently denied you did anything, arguing with Shuichi up until he pointed out incriminating evidence.

He was crushed, knowing he’s going to lose another loved one.

He can’t understand why a criminal like him was worth saving.

But the deed was done. And as your final wish before being executed, you plead for him to survive and see that life’s worth it.

While he’s never been good with promises, he’ll try to keep this last one...for your sake.

Shuichi

He learned the truth earlier than anyone else.

Someone knew he was too smart, always leading the trials and making the swift deductions.

So they believed eliminating him would guarantee them escape from the academy, as everyone would arrive to wrong conclusions without him.

However you put a stop to their plot, accidentally killing them with their own weapon they prepared.

Shuichi didn’t want it to be you--not you, of all people--so he’s far more reluctant to accuse you of murder. 

He’s pretty much mute throughout the trial, but you take notice fast and see him slipping back into that cowardly detective persona.

“Shuichi, don’t you dare go back into hiding. Don’t you dare look away from the truth again.”

“..but...”

He just absolutely refuses to. He can’t....not this time.

So instead, you reveal the truth about your crime. Every last detail--from when the motive came out to how you disposed of the evidence.

By the end of your explanation, he’s in tears--realizing you saved his life..in exchange for your own.

Every night since then, he cries as he hugs the Helping Yacchi plush you gave him the day before the body was discovered.

It hurt so much to condemn you, someone he truly loved.

Kokichi

You learned very quickly that Miu was plotting to kill Kokichi, after noticing her put a bottle of poison in his seat before returning to hers and logging in.

That made you livid. But more scared than anything else.

So you formulated a plan after learning everything (or almost everything) about the virtual world.

You overheard Miu and Kokichi planning to meet on the mansion rooftop, and you didn’t like that idea one bit.

Little did you know, he and Gonta were conspiring to murder her, too, but you beat them to the punch.

Obviously he was pissed someone foiled his plans....but imagine his shock when it turned out to be you.

The two were suspects for a long time as they explained the “Killing Game Busters” scheme.

But since Miu died by your hands--their names were cleared.

Kokichi was in frustrated tears, yelling at you for not telling him sooner.

But he ultimately breaks down when your punishment was announced.

He clings to you, crying and begging you not to leave him--he even pleads with Monokuma to let him die with you.

This time it’s not an act.

He feels genuine sorrow and heartache for a long time after the trial.

Gonta

It’d be impossible to think anyone would try to kill him.

But someone tried taking advantage of his gullibility. And you happened to be there at the exact same time, attacking the assailant while your entomologist boyfriend ran off in fear.

You cleaned as much evidence as you could before finding and consoling him, lying that you just talked to them.

He believes you and is relieved---until the body discovery announcement plays later on.

Even though you lied, he doesn’t blame you. Not even during the trial where you made up an alibi.

But when Gonta himself is questioned...he clams up, knowing exactly what happened and being too scared to say the truth.

He doesn’t want to condemn you! Gentlemen don’t-

You reassure him it’s okay. Shuichi has you in a corner and there’s no point in letting the trial drag on.

So he eventually admits what he saw, and he can only cry as he votes you as the Blackened.

You two share one last hug, and he says he’ll never ever call you a killer, thanking you for protecting him even if he failed to protect you.

Korekiyo

It doesn’t come as a surprise that someone would try murdering him. He could see the hatred in their eyes whenever he looked at them.

His menacing appearance seems to be more than enough of a reason to target him.

However, after finding their body and signs of a struggle surrounding the crime scene, he arrives to the conclusion that the culprit knew he was in danger and killed to protect him.

Ah...how beautiful that realization was.

Or so he thought.

When it’s revealed you carried out that deed, using his golden sword to swiftly kill the victim, his heart is completely shattered.

‘No..no, no, no, no, no!!’

He feels anger, sorrow, confusion, and..so many other unpleasant things at once as you confess to the crime.

Not even Sister calms him down. He becomes belligerent, trying to steer everyone away from the truth and claim he killed the victim in self-defense.

You have to step off your podium to console him, as he was screaming his head off and scaring everyone.

When the trial is over, he just holds you close, begging Monokuma not to take you--his one true love--away from him.

But alas, it’s all for nothing as you’re sentenced to your execution.

Though you remind Korekiyo of what he’s taught you about death, as you didn’t fear it, and you promise you’ll watch over him in the afterlife.

Kaito

He’s incredibly outraged when everyone suspects you as the culprit in spite of the evidence that piles up.

“Shuichi, you're not actually gonna believe their crap, right?! Stop screwing around--!”

“He’s not, Kaito. It's the truth."

Stunned, he looks at you. Since your podium was conveniently next to his, he didn’t have to look far to see the guilt in your eyes.

Learning your motivation, however, is what ultimately crushed him.

You killed...to protect him?

No..

That couldn’t be right! He was suppose to protect you! Didn’t he always tell you how killing was wrong and-?!

But the truth was you did try talking some sense into the victim...but they attacked you instead, and you retaliated in self-defense. So it was purely accidental.

Kaito is pissed when Monokuma jests that “murder is murder” no matter what and he actually tries fighting the Exisals.

You insist he doesn’t interfere, and plead for him to use that strength to help protect everyone else instead.

His spirit is broken for a while, but...he’ll recover and keep fighting on. For your sake.

K1B0

Something in you snapped when you overheard Kokichi taunt your robot boyfriend for the last time, actually hurting him physically as well as emotionally.

K1B0 went to you in tears, not understanding why he hated him so much.

After comforting him, you’ve finally had enough. You were sick of him being harassed nonstop.

So you sent him to see Miu while you met with Kokichi to “talk”. 

While the Ultimate Supreme Leader seemed suspicious, he let his guard down...sealing his fate as you strangled him with his own scarf.

Then you inflicted numerous wounds on his corpse to disguise the true cause of death.

But when the truth was revealed, K1B0 was in total shock at your motive.

He couldn’t believe you’d do something so barbaric.

Even if Kokichi bullied him relentlessly, there’s no reason you had to go as far as murder him!

However he understands anger can be a powerful emotion--one that throws any and all sense of logic out the window.

Still..it hurt to watch you get executed. He went into shutdown for the rest of the day/night.

And here he was, thinking you two had finally torn down the wall of “forbidden love” between human and robot for good.

Rantaro

You managed to kill Tsumugi before she had a chance to murder Rantaro and Kaede’s final part of her plan went into motion.

The shot put ball’s sudden appearance startled him into forgetting about the hidden room and running out of the library..

And up the stairs as the obnoxious music stops and one of the girls yelled for everyone to come into the bathroom--where Tsumugi’s body was.

At that point, the game should’ve ended since you actually killed the mastermind.

But of course, Team Danganronpa had backup plans and thus the game kept going.

You had rearranged the crime scene to make it look like a suicide, leading everyone to assume the time limit’s pressures are what killed the cosplayer.

But eventually your crime was unraveled and Rantaro was utterly devastated.

You’re the first Blackened in yet another killing game he was forced to participate in.

You only killed Tsumugi because you found it suspicious she suddenly ran off on her own near the time limit’s end.

In doing so you unknowingly saved Rantaro’s life in exchange for your own.

He was upset you did something so rash when he clearly told everyone not to, but...at the same time he’s grateful to be alive because of you.

He swears your death won’t be in vain. He’s gonna escape this game with everyone else.

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.

[deliberatelyvague]

Taboo (beelzebub x gn! reader)

Started: May 16, 2020 at 12:59pm

Ended: May 16, 2020 at 1:33pm

Pairing(s): (beelzebub x gn! depressed! reader)

Trigger Warning(s): disappointment from an ‘authority figure’, self harm, almost suicide, talk about mental illness

Author’s Note: if you all are every struggling, just know that there are people out there who care. I am here, I see you. If you ever need someone to rant to, just someone to just hear your struggles, or someone to talk through something, I am here. My DMs are always open ❤️

Request/Prompt: A beel x (f) (small) reader, who has Depression, self harms(deep cuts with razor) who tries to commit suicide because Lucifer was angry at her and said she's a dissapointment and he'd rather have someone else in the exchange Program and that triggered something in the reader? If not that's okay-

————

Halfway through the school year you had started to desperately wish that the forms Diavolo and Lucifer went through listed medical issues. It would be a lot easier to talk about you issues then, if they already knew about it, but now you were suffering and too scared to mention your struggles with them.

You had been doing rough, your depression had made itself known again and your lack of motivation came with it. And it wasn’t that you were struggling with your classes, they were pretty easy for the most part and anything you didn’t understand you either asked Satan, Simeon, or Solomon. But you just couldn’t find the motivation to do it, especially when you gained nothing but a good grade from it.

So when you had been called out by the teacher for the third time for dozing off in class, Lucifer just had enough of it. He demanded that you come to his room before dinner but after you did your homework, and a sinking feeling settled in your gut. You knew what the talk would be about, and you didn’t want to have it because that either meant taking the backlash of your mistakes or explaining to him your mental state, and neither of those seemed like good options to you.

But alas, you did go see him and you just stood there, taking his judgement and frustration. There you stood, in front of his desk, listening to him rant about how you were pretty much a disappointment to the exchange program, and to Diavolo, and about how someone else more motivated and thoughtful should’ve been chosen.

Through the entire lecture, you could feel your chest tighten, and you desperately stopped yourself from crying, holding in your breath as much as you could before he dismissed you. When he did, you practically ran to your room, passing Beelzebub who had called out to you, but you didn’t look back at him. You could feel his eyes following you into your room where you shut the door and locked it, making your way to your closet when you shut the door once again and wrapped one of your blankets around yourself.

And itching feeling when up your arms, a desperation- craving almost to grab your blade and just cut, only a little bit.

Everything was always better after you harmed yourself, the endorphins masking the actual issue and you didn’t worry about what was troubling you. Besides, you deserved to be punished, and Lucifer didn’t lay a hand on your after the few incidents where he almost killed you- so you got no reprimand about what you did other than the scolding.

So, you dug your fingers into the shag carpet that you had placed in your closet and found the razor, and pulled up your sleeves, starting the make small cuts. You didn’t feel anything from them, so you applied more pressure, think crimson blood oozing from the cuts and dripping onto the carpet. After a few more of these deeper cuts, a dizzy feeling washed over you, and you looked at the injuries, noticing very quickly that you were losing too much blood, and that if you didn’t do something about it you would probably pass out.

You stood up on wobbly knees and made your way to the door as quickly as you could manage, almost falling out of the room as you made your way to the lounge, where someone was knots surely at. You stood in the entry, and two sets of eyes landed on you- Beel and Lucifer’s. You lifted your arms and shakily asked for help before you fell to the ground after exuding so much energy.

You were still conscious, but the rim of your vision was black and everything was blurred, and you could see Beel rushing over to you and picking you up, a look of pure worry on his face that you barely saw. He was saying something to you, but something you couldn’t make out, and you lifted your blood covered hand to his face, wiping away a tear that had made itself seen. When you hand feel, a handprint of blood was left on his face. You felt the ground move, but before you knew where you were being taken to, you had already closed your eyes.

When you woke up your were laying in Beel’s bed, a warm body pressed to your side. You looked over slowly and saw that Belphegor was holding you, his head resting on your stomach, a frown etched onto his face.

You almost said something so he would wake up, but a voice cut though the almost serene feeling of the room.

“That’s the first he’s slept for awhile.” Your eyes shot over to see Beel walking in with a wet rag, a bucket of water, some bandages and what looked to be hydrogen peroxide.

“Why is that?” You asked, adverting your gaze.

“He was worried about if you would wake up or not,” he answered simply, unwrapping your arms and starting to clean the wounds. You didn’t say anything. “We all were, honestly.”

After he cleaned the wound, you could see how bad they had been. They looked to be sewn up pretty well, and you laid back on the bed. You didn’t really want to discuss this with him, but you’ve learned that delaying the inevitable would only cause bad things to happen sooner. Then he finally asked the question you had been dreading.

“Why did you.. cut yourself?” You looked over at him, so you weren’t focused on the cuts anymore.

“I needed to be punished, and I had been feeling bad lately. Cutting myself makes me feel better, I guess.”

“Diavolo had Barbatos get your medical files from your home, and it said that you had been struggling with these issues for longer than just your time here. Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped you.”

“There’s a stigma where I live surrounding mental illness, it’s kind of a taboo thing to talk about, even though most people struggle with some type of it.

“People are scared of reacting incorrectly or offending someone, so they just choose to not talk about it in place of discussing it so people know how to address it. I guess the stigma travelled with me, so I was worried about how you all would react, considering mental illnesses isn’t really a topic you can bring up while eating dinner.”

“Well, we need to talk about it. I don’t like it when you feel bad or you get hurt, whether it be by your own hands or someone else’s. I want to protect you, and love you, but I can only do that if you let me. Please, [Y/N], tell me when you’re having bad days, or even a few bad minutes. I want to help your though it.”

“I will, I’m sorry for worrying you, Beel.”

“Don’t feel sorry, please. Never feel sorry.” He was finished with cleaned and rewrapping your wounds, and Belphegor had turned over in bed.

“Can we cuddle, please?” You asked, scooting over so he could fit.

“Of course,” he answered, and laid down next to you, allowing you to rest against him.

————

This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.