#and promptly going: actually. I could be monster food

[flowerflamestars]

Abattoir snippet

Cassian didn’t know why he did it. He knew these storms like he knew how to breathe- Maybe that was it. An effort, every day, to pull air in to lungs that seem to have forgotten their basic function, careening for listless misery to endless hectic drive, no sky open enough, clear enough, enough- Cassian was across the battlefield when Rhys died, might as well have been miles, and still, the day haunts him. He had loved his High Lord, true. A friend, if difficult- a brother, if only by bloody training. Cassian may no more have seen the whole of Rhys alive than Rhysand had been able to look and see the entire reality of the life Cassian had been living- between two peoples, between an aching dream he knew would break him to possess, what he woke screaming for, between myth and reality, Morrigan pulling him awake. Illyria was not home anymore. Velaris, too quiet. The House of Wind a refuge, still- warm stone and warmer magic, Morrigan quietly running the Court with the selfsame effortlessness as dragging her hands through his hair in benediction. Maybe that was why. It was a particular, excruciating, specific loneliness to be utterly alone in a bed with someone else. A gulf he cannot cross- to have everything he’s ever wanted in this empty, echoing, wretched fucking world and here Cassian still is- Cassian more than five centuries older than the last time and still, just Cassian as he’d been at twenty, tearing his fingers from Azriel’s ever-careful grip to throw himself toward thunder. That light, silver and godsgiven.

[mr-walkingrainbow]

DESCENDANTS: The Rise of Red! (or the REAL hidden story in the movie + what’s gonna happen in the sequel THEORY!)

So we ALL watched the movie right? We ALL thought the plot sucked and the movie ended abruptly with a underwhelming climax?

WELL HERES WHY WERE WRONG!

So I did some really deep thinking, and I figured, these writers can’t be THAT stupid? The director can’t be THAT idiotic, lame, and boring? That would just embarrass Disney, not to mention all the well respected actors that are in this!

So I thought hard. I thought hard and I thought long. Like hella long. And I tallied up all the plot inconsistencies, all the weird explanations, all the very specific lines in songs, and I did it. I fixed descendants rise of red! I FIGURED IT OUT!

So!! Here it is! What TRULY happened that crowncoming night! And what going back in time actually did!

(I intentionally put a keep reading so if anyone wanted to avoid spoilers they can)

So! Now that we’re under the keep reading. Anything spoilerly can be said!

So first things first. The biggest theory everyone is saying.

ELLA DID IN FACT POISON BRIDGET!

Yes! I said it! We all thought the movie was leading to this! So it was underwhelming when it was revealed it was Uliana and her crew were the origins behind the prank.

OR WERE THEY?

We all saw that once they opened the book; they were frozen. Because they were ‘bad’ and Merlin’s security system was set into place.

And many of you came up with the giant plot hole that this would have happened REGARDLESS of whether Red and Chloe interfered.

AND YOUR RIGHT!

This sole reason, is why the group COULDNT have done it! Not only were they frozen, but they couldn’t read the recipe, and were properly sent to detention, ergo exonerating them from being at the dance! Meaning their was literally no way they could have been behind the prank!

So with them being withheld from the dance, who could it be? Who was the one person who was originally at the dance, but now no longer could be? What was the one actual change that Red and Chloe set off?

ELLA. AND THE VASE!

We all see that when the two go into Ella’s house, Chloe knocks over a Vase. Breaking it. Lady Tremaine GROUNDS Ella! Meaning that she COULD NOT go to the dance!

This DIDNT happen originally! Meaning Ella DID go to the dance in the original timeline! Which is proven when Cinderella (I’m calling Adult Ella, Cinderella) talks to The Red Queen (I’m calling Adult Bridget The Red Queen) about how the prank being pulled was wrong. She had first handed knowledge of the prank. AND she told Chloe she fell in love with Charming at the dance.

But! Since Ella is the only difference in the two timelines in regarding to the dance, this is PROOF that she was the one who actually pranked Bridget, NOT Uliana and her crew!

So here’s what I think happened!

Ella, who saw Bridget being bullied about the cupcakes, and saw Uliana take all the cupcakes. And promptly being threatened by Uliana. Decided to bake Bridget something to cheer her up. However Bridget literally has all of the cookbooks in auradon. As shown. So she snoops around and finds Merlin’s cookbook! (Because it’s also shown she’s okay with breaking the rules if it’s for a good cause. From her get our hands dirty song!) and double and, the book WOULD open for her because she is a good person. AND she was doing it for a good reason!

she flips through the book and finds some simple blase recipe that cheers Bridget up. Maybe gives her cool hair (Red hair??). Something simple but sweet.

However. While doing this, she happens to see the Monster food recipe. She doesn’t look at it for long of course. Just enough to remember it’s a thing.

BACK TO BRIDGET!

Now! I swear to whatever’s out there that the person who played Chloe said there was a queer character in Dedcendants 4. I can’t find it now but it was some tumblr or insta post. I know cause I immediately told my friend afterwards.

Anywho. I think Bridget is the queer character! We see in the movie her only friend was Ella. Not only that but she YEARNS for someone to care about enough to ask her out (in a romantic way like charming just tried to do for Ella) Ella, who again. Is Bridget’s only friend. And ergo, shows her love no one else does, IMMEDIATELY asks her to go to the dance with her! (Might have said as friends in the other timeline too. Who knows)

But! This only makes Bridget’s crush on Ella even BIGGER. And she falls in love with her! She probably thinks they might have a chance!

This is also somewhat proven by The Red Queens song ‘Love Ain’t It’

Title ; Love Ain’t It

Red : “With all the Grief you’ve experienced”

Red (Speaking of Cinderella) : So you Knew her?

The Red Queen : I saw through her. Cinderella and I were classmates in a way.

(Notice how she uses Ella’s mocking name after she has time to recover from the interaction. She said ELLA originally when she caught her off guard. Also. The line. I SAW THROUGH HER. It’s a double edged sword. Saw through her fronts. Saw the hurting girl inside. Saw through her LIES saw the mean girl behind)

Proven by the next lines

The red Queen : I spent way to much time in this place

So I had to escape

the people might smile

but their two faced, too fake.

Girl was relentlessly bullied and betrayed by someone she loved

And Ella Knows it.

Cinderella : Some people act mean at first, because their too afraid to feel

[the reverse is also true]

Cinderella : Look hon. Back in high school, a mean prank was played

And ever since that fateful day

She was never the same, it’s quite a shame.

So the Red Queen sings a whole song about how Love isn’t it. And we ALL KNOW that her only connection to love as a kid was through ELLA. meaning Bridget HAD A CRUSH on Ella. Was IN LOVE. With Ella.

So. How did Crowncoming originally happen you ask?

Here’s my theory

Ella and Bridget go to the dance. They are happy! They have fun. Bridget falls further in love with Ella. Meanwhile. Ella falls in love with Charming!

Her and Charming hit it off. And Ella starts to feel loved and appreciated for the first time in her life.

Then, Bridget performs her ‘Shuffle of Love’ dance. All the attention is on her! Even Charmings.

Ella feels robbed. She feels jealous. She feels angry that her friend is stealing the one good moment she is finally having to herself.

And so she briefly remembers the spell. And in a moment of error, she either A. Remembers the recipe already and makes the recipe. Or B. Re-Sneaks back into the office to see it. However I’m going with A because the book wouldn’t have opened again for Ella because of her bad intentions.

Whichever way. Bridget eats the baked treat. (I think it was a cupcake. Ella could have lied and said it was from the earlier batch)

And then. IT HAPPENS! Bridget is turned into an ugly terrifying monster. Everyone LAUGHS at her. Everyone makes fun of her

And Bridget, who is confused, understands only ONE person could have done this to her. She looks at someone she was in love with. And just sees Ella and Charming laughing. Laughing at her. Bonding over laughing at HER.

Bridget runs off. In tears. Broken inside. With an equally broken heart.

Maybe if Ella had immediately realized her error and run after her she would have turned out differently. But no. It is proven that Ella stayed at the dance and stayed with Charming. They wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love if she left.

So Bridget. Spends the rest of the night terrified. Looking like a monster. And being laughed and screamed and made fun of everywhere she goes. And not only that. But her ONLY FRIEND. Her CRUSH. Someone she TRUSTED did this to her

Now THIS! THIS is something can break a person. This is something that can change their views on the world. On humanity itself. She was a kind girl. Was kind to everyone no matter how meanly they treated her. But through it all, Ella was her rock. Her friend. Her secret love. Someone who was good and kind through it all.

But she betrayed her. Tbe one nice person betrayed her. Showing that being nice doesn’t do it. Being nice does not mean good things happen. Being nice doesn’t is worthless if this is what it gets you. Everyone is two faced. And the only thing that’s real. The only thing she CAN feel. Is hurt. And pain. And fear. And so that’s what she swears to become. That’s what she swears to do. Be mean and cruel and heartless so she never has to feel all this pain ever again. So her eventual DAUGHTER never has to feel this again. It’s better to be alone and feared. Then alone and broken.

Ella probably realized the error of her ways the next day. But as she said. It was too late. Bridget was never the same.

This Explains why they had so many odd interactions. The raw feral burning chemistry between them. All the odd phrase. Why The Red Queen would be okay sending her BEST FRIEND to death. Why she would be okay killing her. And taking over auradon. To Her? Cinderella is the one who made her this way.

but also part of her still remembers. Still cares. It’s why she gave her once chance to kneel to her. (And as we’ve noted in the books and movies. She doesn’t give ANYONE else a second chance. She punishes I’m immediately and harshly)

And so! With all of this happening. Theirs gonna be some catylist in recent times. The Red Queen might be nice now. But something will have changed. Ella never went to the dance. (She clearly fell in love with charming somewhere else cause otherwise Chloe would have disappeared) but something happened when she wasn’t at the dance. Something that caused another problem. And THATS gonna be the sequel to this movie. Descendants : Rise of Red part two.

(as we’ve seen the official script for the movie is literally called Descendants : Rise of Red part one. MEANING they wrote it with the purpose of being part one to either a sequel or a threequal)

And THAT! Ladies and Gentleman, is what I think the REAL plot behind Descendants : Rise of Red is! A movie that is not idiotically not thought out at all, but really something so secretly genuis is blows your mind!

Hope you enjoyed!

[eldritcmor]

IDEA!! You know how in most legends and myths involving dragons there’s often a hoard the dragon is protecting? What if the 141 was the hoard of someone (or something) not entirely human. They masquerade as a human and fight alongside the 141 but they’re insanely protective of them and have dragon like abilities. Heat and smoke never seem to bother them. Sometimes the 141 can see the shimmer of scales out of the corner of their eye but when they turn to check it out all they see is their “human” teammate. Maybe they have reptile like tendencies and prefer to have meals alone because they’re “insecure” about their eating habits (they’re actually eating nonhuman food like raw meat or something). Idk, I just really like the idea of the 141 being oblivious to a monster in their midst. Also I really REALLY like dragons

Gaz looked up as the sharp screech of twisting metal met his ears. The guard at his door poked his head out to see what was happening only to jerk and slump, a rather large piece of rebar right between his eyes. Gaz did not want to meet whatever the fuck did that and so scooted the chair he was tied to as far back into the shadows as he could. He tried to keep his breathing even but as the steady clomp of boots on metal grew closer, he couldn't cut it. A hand curled around the door frame and for a second, Gaz would forever swear he saw gleaming copper claws. He blinked and suddenly you were in front of him. Kneeling low as you confidently cut through the rope around his ankles.

"Breathe Sergeant. I got you." Gaz practically melted at the familiar rumble of your voice. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as you moved to the bindings on his chest. Then he was confused.

"It's good to see you lieutenant, but how did you get here?"

You hummed as you finished cutting through his bindings and hauled Gaz to his feet. While there wasn't really any major damage that you could see, you still didn't like finding him like this.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. For all intents and purposes, this was never sanctioned. Now before you go thinking too hard, the others did try to come as well. Unfortunately, they got placed under the equivalent of house arrest by Shepherd. Now come on, our ride is waiting."

Gaz rolled the information over in his mind as you led him through the little facility. Everywhere he looked was some form of evidence of a fight. It looked like something had absolutely ripped through their defences.

--

Ghost startled as he entered the little kitchen of their current base. It was incredibly late at night and he hadn't expected anyone to be awake. You were sitting on the counter, ripped open package of red meat in one hand and a piece of meat midway to your mouth. Ghost raised an eyebrow and you slowly lowered the little chunk back into the tray.

"is this why you never eat with us?" Your fellow lieutenant asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. You have a little noncommittal shrug as you set aside your dinner. Ghost popped the mug into the microwave and pulled out a few teabags.

"No need to stop on my account, lieutenant." The microwave beeped and ghost retrieved his mug before plopping the teabags in and promptly exiting the kitchen.

--

Soap raised an eyebrow as you stripped off your jacket and bundled it into your pack. The team was visiting Farah and the desert heat was harsh on all of them. Even Price had taken refuge under the nearest shade cloth. You however just seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat. He thought the heat was finally getting to you. That is until you climbed up on huge flat rock, laid in direct sunlight and promptly fell asleep. You were fucking basking while the rest of the team was baking in the sun. Soap stomped over, sun be damned, and climbed right up beside you. He purposely blocked the sun as he kneeled next to you and raised his hand to slap down in the dead center of your back. That is until your hand shot out and easily caught his wrist. You two briefly wrestled for a minute or two before soap yelped as you scooped him up over your shoulder and carried his ass back over to the others. Farah laughed as you deposited Soap right at Price's feet. A simple no left your mouth in a sort of grumbling growl as you went back to your rock. Soap pouted in the shade but didn't move to try again, as Price handed him a canteen of water.

--

Price watched from the door as you wrestled against Ghost, with Soap and Gaz sitting on the side. You two were dirty fucking fighters. Anytime Ghost flipped you on your back, you'd yank him by his mask or shirt to the side. Anytime you'd flip him on his back, he'd take his nails down any piece of exposed flesh in order to get you to rear back and topple. Price thought it was like watching two feral ass badgers fighting. He decided to intervene when Ghost pinned you and his fingers were just a hair too close to your mouth. Your fangs were on display.

"That's enough boys!" He watched in amusement as You and Ghost scrambled to your feet. "Go clean up, all of you. We got a briefing in twenty. Except you, Drake. I need to talk to you." The rest of the squad exited the training room. Price could practically feel the gossip spinning in their heads.

Price turned to you once the team was down the hall and out of earshot. "We need to talk about that little trip you took."

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Little trip, sir?"

"The one you took while the rest of us were under house arrest. The one where you somehow returned with the single missing member of this task force."

You simply hummed, a noncommittal sound, as you tapped your wrist. Price shook his head at your silent question. "Ah my most recent leave. What's the issue?"

Price sighed. "Unfortunately, the higher up want to know how Gaz returned." Price grabbed your shoulder and pulleed you down to his height. "You were not involved in anyway, clear?"

You groaned as the grip on your shoulder tightened. "Loud and clear, sir."

"Good man, now get. I'm sure the others are wondering what kind of ass chewing you just got." Price watched as you walked out the room, defeat lining your shoulders. Good, no need to trouble anyone else with your little rescue mission. Price glanced down at his hand. He hadn't meant to grab you that hard but he had to get the point across. There was a red lined imprint of scales in the center of his palm.

[chubbycelebs]

The Weight of Fame (part 2)

Harry had had an expansive first month or so of his break from being the mega pop star he was destined to become. After his descovery of gaining weight and the joys that come with it, Harry had now gone from fit, in shape, peak from to now slob, pig, round chubby and out of shape and he loved it. The excitement of trying on clothes to see if they can accommodate his growing frame or if he will pop right out of him was becoming thrilling. He knew he wanted to expand more, see how far he can take it.

Of course to achieve this, this meant he had to carry on eating terribly. His daily routine for meals consisted of, a whole packet of bacon stuffed into a buttery ketchup filled sandwich in the morning, with waffles coated in syrup, and a banana for good health (of course), then for a snack between breakfast and lunch he would eat half a tray of brownies. Then for lunch he would have nearly a whole roast dinner every day, making sure to coat everything in greasy gravy (but also eating his veg). He would then finish the tray of brownies afterwards and probably slip into a food coma until dinner time arrived. When he would wake from his nap, he could never be bothered to cook so instead he'd order a monster of a take out meal. Usually 3 99p burgers with 3 large fries to go with that, a family box of chicken strips, a box of cheese bites, 2 apple pies and 2 donuts. After he'd polish that off, Harry would always find room to eat a carton of ice cream as he watched his favourite TV shows before promptly passing out from another day of stuffing. It was no shock to him that he was starting to balloon very quickly. All of his clothes fit snug around his fat body, he couldn't escape the fact he was now fat.

Even though he loved his softer, relaxed body, he couldn't help but think what his ex-band mates would think of his piggish ways. He would lay in bed rubbing and jiggling his belly thinking about his band mates calling him names like "hog!" or saying "Jesus Christ Harry look at you, you have blown up like a whale!" Even though he was happy with his body the way it was and even wondered if he should keep growing, he couldn't help but think, "maybe this is too much, maybe I shouldn't be enjoying lazing around all day, stuffing my face and growing this big belly." He decided he would call his closest friend from the band, Louis, and see what he had to say. He knew he could trust Louis, after everything they'd been through together, they were always close and Harry knew he would help him out.

The next morning Harry decided to give Louis a facetime call and just show him the damage that he had caused to his waistline. As he pressed to call on Louis' number, Harry's heart began to race. What if he laughs at his rounded body? What if he takes screen shots and posts them to social media and the whole world knows how much of a fatty he is now? The worry built up further until the call was answered.

"Harry! You alright mate?" Louis voice put to ease all the worry Harry had just moments ago. "I'm good thanks, how are you doing?" Harry replied, unable to stop smiling just at the sight of Louis.

"I'm good thanks, good. I've been meaning to call you recently actually. I've got something I need to ask you."

Harry was taken aback by this. He had expected to be the one asking Louis something not Louis asking him.

"Yeah of course go ahead what is it?" Harry asked wondering what it could be.

"Alright but no photos and you can't laugh" Louis said as he propped his camera up on the kitchen side in his house. As Louis walked back, it became very apparent to Harry what Louis was showing him. Louis had gotten fat. Just like Harry Louis was squeezed into a tight shirt that barely covered the bottom of his belly. His chest seemed so soft that Harry could make out Louis nipples clearly. As Louis turned slightly, his love handles looked as though they could pop out the shirt at any moment. Even Louis' thighs and arse seemed bigger, filling his grey joggers full of fat. Harry didn't know what to say, he just sat there mouth open as Louis showed off his body. "I know. I'm a fucking pig. I just couldn't help it. I enjoyed relaxing for once and-"

"Oh thank GOD!" Harry interrupted.

"What do you mean 'thank god'?" Louis said,now confused. Harry now propped up his phone and stood back revealing Harry to be in an open buttoned up shirt and displaying a similar fatter figure just like Louis. Harry's fat was more around his belly and hips rather than Louis chests and bum but the two fatties were around the same size. "Your fat too?!" Louis said smiling.

"Yes! And I actually really enjoy it!"

"Me too!" Louis agreed. The two of them spent ages catching up now, talking about the joys of expanding and stuffing and growing and endlessly getting bigger. Before they knew it, they had been on facetime all day, having eaten together and showed off their bodies to each other. It wasn't until the very early hours of the morning when they finally hung up on each other. Harry collapsed into bed, in his boxers, now much more bloated than before. He was so happy to not be the only piggy from the group. For all he knew the rest of the boys could all be sporting huge guts like him and Louis. That night, Harry had the most peaceful nights sleep he'd had in years.

The next morning, Harry awoke and had his usual family sized breakfast when he was struck with inspiration. He had finally been inspired to write a song. He got up from the sofa and ran as fast as he could to the piano in the room. This was the first time he'd ran in a good 4 months. The jiggling of his body was a great feeling but how out of breath he was when he reached the piano was not fun. "I'm no... not running.... again..." Harry said out of breath as he plonked his fat ass on the piano.

Harry spent all day on the piano writing new songs for his first solo album. He finally was getting excited about music again. As he sat there playing piano, it never even crossed his mind that with a new album, comes press, photo shoots, talk shows, public appearances, music videos. At this moment he had completely forgotten about the weight he had gained and that was quite clearly visible. What would he do now?

Well he answered that question rather quickly. After the day writing songs, he decided to order a huge take out meal, the biggest order yet. Harry wasn't going to lose the weight just yet. He was only getting started. He enjoyed it too much, the feeling of his expanding body, knowing that he was not the only one gaining now. Why stop now when he had so many more clothes to grow out of.

Part 2 of this story. I hope you guys are enjoying the slower pace of these stories. i’m enjoying putting loads of detail in and really exploring Harry’s love for gaining

[angelofchaos001]

Stranded in the Rain - Chapter 4

Link to Ao3

Link to Masterpost

Previous (Survivor) | Next (Curiosity)

Chapter 4 - Monsters

There was hardly any trace of the events Hatchling had gone through the previous day in the world. Any and all bootprints had been washed away, churned by the storm into new and fresher mud. There was no blood or shards of glass from where their helmet had cracked. Gingerly, they reached towards their covered head and brushed against the splintering line. They hadn't even thought about repairing it. But . . . the air here seemed breathable (luckily). And it wasn't like it was actively posing a problem, so . . . the broken helmet stayed. For now.

Beside them, Pearl was shaking out it's fur and staring at the moss and plants around them. Was it waiting for Hatchling to do something? Or was it just as lost as they were, exploring unfamiliar surroundings? The creature leaned towards a small flower, brushed it's nose against it, and promptly sneezed. Moissan giggled. "Hehe, careful there, little buddy. Don't go touching random things, okay?"

It sat down, sneezed again, and rubbed at it's face with expert paws to clean itself. Despite the dirt and brush tangled with it's slimy fur, Hatchling guessed their new friend was likely a much paler white than the messy gray they currently saw. "Hrrrrrrng."

Oh, I wish I could understand you, poor little creature. I'd have so many things I'd ask of you. They stared at the beast, finally done sneezing, before it looked back up at them. "Prrrrl? Mrprrrl."

"Uh . . . yeah!" Moissan said, pretending like they knew what that noise meant. "Sure, whatever you say!" They smiled and reached their hand out again, and it leaned into the touch with a headbutt. "Such an affectionate creature you are, Pearl. I wonder why."

Could it have had some kind of friend or partner before now? Was it simply substituting Hatchling for a missing person in it's own life? Maybe it was lost and separated from a larger group, just desperate to have something alive to cling onto. It could have always been alone and never known how joyful the comfort of touch was. Would they ever know this creature's past?

After a moment of holding their cuddling position, Pearl suddenly wiggled away and darted towards the pole at the far end of the room, pawing at the ground. "Oh? See, Pearl, you can climb of these poles," Hatchling instructed, walking over and grabbing the smooth metal. "Are you watching?" They glanced down only to see their friend focused on something half-buried in moss.

"Pearl?"

The creature reached down and gripped it's paws around something. Moissan watched with great interest, wondering what it could be. Food? A tool for transportation? Part of this pole? Scraps? What could it be?

In Pearl's hands was a piece of metal slightly taller than itself. It was sharpened on one end, and Hatchling shuddered. It could easily pierce flesh, even if it didn't have any force behind it. Gently, they reached over to grab the spear for themselves. "Hey . . . Pearl, maybe we shouldn't take this with us."

They tried to pull it away, but the beast's fur bristled and it gave a low growl, holding firm. They were confused, but lost their own grip on the spear as Pearl yanked it towards themselves with a hiss. "WaWARRgggg . . . " Hatchling took a step back and raised their hands defensively.

"Woah, woah . . . I'm sorry. You- You can keep it."

Pearl narrowed it's eyes before firmly clutching the spear in one paw and the pole in the other. With speed and finesse only time could grant, it shimmied up the pole and all the way into the tunnel effortlessly - Even with only one front paw actually holding onto it. Hatchling's eyes widened before they grabbed the pole and climbed up it, following their companion deeper into the world.

No sooner had they emerged from the tunnel did Pearl take off running towards the end of the room again. Hatchling didn't expect it to be so agile and fast when it looked like that tail alone would weight it down so badly. They wiggled free from the pipe and made haste to continue following their buddy, hoping it would wait for them once again. I hope I'm not a burden to it. I hope it doesn't leave me alone here. I want to help it.

How can I show it that?

They were currently following the same path they'd gone on before, heading to the room where they'd seen the starbugs flying about. Curiosity seized Moissan, wondering how their friend would react to yet another living creature. Has it seen them before? Does it treat them the way it treats me? The idea of Pearl being buried in a cuddly pile of starbugs was an awfully cute one. They found themselves hoping it would be true.

Faintly, there was a squeak from the tunnel. A sound, a cry of desperation. Hatchling stared into the hole, the technology that shouldn't be possible, and tried to decode whether it was their own friend in trouble, or something greater. But I won't get anywhere if I stand around waiting here. Better keep following it.

On the other side, they saw Pearl jumping into the air, flailing around and trying to grab a starbug that flew just out of it's reach. The spear had been laid aside, leaning on some plants, and they watched as the creature struggled with a task that had been fairly easily for themselves. "Pearl? You want some help?" they asked, stepping into the room and reaching their hand up.

It turned towards Hatchling, flicking it's ears curiously as two starbugs gently floated down to land on their hand. "Just like that. Be calm and they'll come to you." They brought their hand down to show their friend, and the second it could reach, Pearl grabbed one of the bats viciously in it's paw.

"Pearl!" Moissan shouted, alarmed, shaking the other bug off their hand. "Pearl, put it down, you're hurting it!"

The squeak of distress came from the bug as tiny pinprick claws stabbed into it. The beast seemed unconcerned as it squeezed harder. The bug's struggles seemed to get weaker. "Frrrrrio. Urrrp?"

"I don't know!" they cried, trying to reach over and take the starbug away. Pearl hissed and shuffled further, fur bristling and the thick tail raising off the ground like a club. "I know you don't understand me, but please, let it go!" They frantically made the motion of closing and opening their hand, hoping their friend would copy it. Please. Say the creature's okay. Please say Pearl didn't hurt it too badly.

Without warning, their companion took the bug, brought it to their mouth, and bit down into it. Moissan stared, some mix of horrified and suddenly understanding. Creatures had to eat to survive. Even they'd eaten once-living fish before (The thought of eating a fish made their stomach growl. How long had they been asleep?). But never had they been the one to kill it, and certainly not in such a brutal way. And why did it have to be a creature that they'd found themselves taking a liking to?

It didn't matter now. Pearl took bite after bite, and before long, there was nothing left but some blood on their paws. Judging by how the bug never screamed again, it must have already been dead before Pearl ate it. "Are you satisfied?" Hatchling asked, looking away. It was an understandable thing to do. That doesn't mean I have to like it, though. Their friend shook itself out before tilting it's head up again, looking at the numerous starbugs swarming around them.

Before it reached for any more of them, though, something suddenly appeared from a crack in one of the walls. Hatchling stared at the thing, startled, and Pearl's attention flicked towards it as well. But I don't see fear or curiosity in it's eyes, they thought, looking at their friend. Has it seen this before?

The thing in the wall was a soft, pale yellow color. It was thin, almost like a worm or noodle of some kind, and had even thinner tendrils around it's 'head' that held a small dark blue fade on their ends. It also had a single wide eye with a dark blue pupil that scanned over Hatchling and Pearl frantically.

They took a step back, cautious, but their friend took a step forwards and reached out with a paw. "Frrrmrrr?"

The thing blinked before making some kind of projection on the wall before them. Hatchling saw flashes of creatures that looked like Pearl, but in all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes. Some were huge, others hardly the size of Pearl itself. They were black, blue, yellow, green, all sorts of colors. One picture showed a group happily cuddling, three large ones curled around a smaller infant.

The image shifted. A pair of youngsters climbing one of the many poles, starbugs flitting around their head. From the ground below, a dark maroon one watched on, the moment of admiration and a watchful gaze capture perfectly in the image. Hatchling felt like it was back to when they'd been so young and still learning the world, with all the older hearthians watching over them.

Another frozen picture appeared, this time a large and overweight specimen eagerly leading a trail of others behind it. Was it a large family? An expedition? A class, maybe? Some of the following creatures seemed more interested in the world around them. One even looked suspiciously like their little friend, who was desperately watching the images with drooping ears and little motion.

After rapidly flickering through the pictures, the scene came to a rest on four of the creature with a dotted outline of a fifth.

Pearl let out a cry and rushed towards the wall, placing both front paws against it and whimpering. Moissan could only watch as the projection then faded away completely, and the thing in the wall made a simpler one - an arrow. It pointed towards the tunnel in the room, urging the duo to go upwards.

Without the projection of the other creatures, though, Pearl made another cry of anguish and scratched at the moss and metal. "Rrrrrl . . . fmrrrrlrr . . . "

Hatchling walked over to it and sat down beside it, reaching their hand out. "What's- What's wrong, little buddy? Were those your friends?"

Pearl howled out and turned to dive into their lap, forcing all of themselves to fit in the small hearthian's space. They saw tears welling up in the creature's eyes, trickling down their fur and leaving dark trails behind. It constantly made low, soft crying sounds, and tried to bury it's face in Hatchling's suit. Unsure of what to do, they reached up and started to gently pet their partner again.

"What are you?" they asked, looking up at the thing in the wall. But all it did was stare back at them until it retreated, disappearing into the crack with no explanation. Is it pointing us in which way to go? Or is it some kind of trap for us?

They wanted to think the creature had no ill intents, but it was hard to tell. It could be some kind of hunting tactic for a much larger beast, or the workings of a species they knew nothing about. From their lap, Pearl continued sobbing until it turned, looked towards the wall again, and whimpered, looking at their spear propped against the wall. Dejectedly, it crawled out of Moissan's arms and picked up the sharp stick.

"Are we going now?"

It turned back over it's shoulder, watching them politely as it scrambled partway up the pole in the room. Hatchling nodded and stood up, taking large steps to follow it as fast as they could and shimmy up behind it. In the next room, air finally washed over their face again. They closed their eyes and took a moment to bask in the softly moving wind, the damp and dripping world around them, the constant chirping of bugs and small creatures all around them.

It could have been a wonderful place to live, they figured.

"Chrrrp!" Pearl gently poked Moissan with the blunt end of their spear. They still flinched, though, and hastily moved out of the tunnel and sat on the ground beside it. They raised their hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm up! I'm up!" Pearl nodded and leaned on it's spear a little, making Hatchling laugh. "Well, where to, little buddy?"

It turned and took a step towards a marked tunnel on the ground of the room, but something else forced it's way through from the other side first. All they saw was a bright green, angular head that glowed and pulsed brightly. It had small frills, rows of sharp black teeth awkwardly sticking out from massive jaws, and stubby, short legs that it hauled itself through with. They could see a black body only accented with the same bright green, and a fan-like tail with more of the same neon coloring.

Another creature! Moissan thought excitedly. It swung it's head around, staring sideways at the pair with beady black eyes before opening it's jaws and emitting a high-pitched hissing sound. It's head slowly flashed to black before the glow returned, and it slowly started lumbering towards them. "Pearl, what is that?" They asked the question without even taking a second to remember it couldn't understand them. Maybe I'm just so desperate to talk that I don't even care anymore.

Their friend didn't seem nearly as excited to see the creature as they were, though. Pearl shrieked and crouched against the ground, flattening. Hatchling looked over, and could see bristling, trembling fur. Their noise quivered slightly, and they took a subtle step backwards. "Uh . . . should I be scared right now?" Is something wrong?

The creature paused, lifting it's head and flicking out a short, forked tongue before hissing again. Now that it was getting closer, it was massive. Maybe double Moissan's size, just guessing from a glance. It paused, taking a few awkward steps backwards with a much more guttural sound, and Hatchling got up to step back as well. "Pearl?"

Fwip!

Something thrown from behind just barely missed their shoulder, sailing past and hitting the creature straight in the head. They gasped, stumbling and falling over, but watched as the object simply bounced off. The creature made an odd sound and recoiled, shaking it's head, but it had sounded like a collision of metal on metal, almost. Staring at where the thrown object had landed a few feet away, they noticed it was the spear Pearl had been carrying around.

They turned to see their partner on a short pole in the room that supported a small platform, shaking and clutching it with both paws. No spear. That means . . .

"Pearl, did you throw that?"

"Mmmmrble!" Whatever that meant, it sounded distressed. "MMMMRRR!"

Hatchling tried to get upright, but failed to find their balance and hit the ground again, mud splashing around them with a sickening squelch. The hit creature hissed, turning towards them, and suddenly leapt forwards with force and weight they couldn't have predicted.

All of it's weight was thrown onto Moissan, the force of the impact dislodging their helmet. It rolled away, stopping just within their reach, but their arms were pinned to the ground by the hissing beast. Oh stars, oh no, oh please, THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING, they thought, panic slipping in control with disturbing ease. "PEARL!" They hollered, trying to struggle against it. "PEARL!"

The creature lifted a small, clawed limb and placed it firmly on Moissan's chest, freeing up one of their arms but making every breath agony. Was it crushing their lungs? Were their ribs cracked yet? Was this going to be the end? No. No, no, it can't be, not yet!

Not when I've just started figuring this all out!

Hatchling took their arm and pounded at the creature's side, and while it heaved and grumbled, it didn't seem to dissuade it from sitting on them. It was getting harder to inhale, such an immense weight being pressed down on them. Have to get it off of me - How? How can I do that?!

"RAWR!"

Suddenly, it lifted it's head and parted it's jaws for a high-pitched hiss. Strings of saliva dripped from it's mouth, glistening in the dim light that shone through the clouds. Hatchling strained their ears, listening for the source of the sound, until the white blur of their companion ran past them and the creature. Slowly, it backed up off of them, and as Moissan wriggled away, they curled into a ball to calm down.

What was Gabbro's technique again? To stay calm, even in the face of impending doom? How did they teach me to do it so easily?

Every time they'd gotten stuck exploring a planet, stranded in space, broke their ship, or anything else that made their mission too difficult, they'd been able to steady themselves, take a deep breath, and sleep until they woke up again in the next loop. Meditating was something Gabbro had taught them to do, and something they did themselves. Even if Hatchling didn't want to let themselves be caught in that awful downpour again, the same trick could help them stop freaking out right now.

Their heart was thundering as they took in huge gulps of air, relieved to be free and desperate not to let it happen again. Stars, calm down. Stop panicking. Breathe. In and out. In and out. In and . . . oh suns I'm going to die here, aren't I? I came so far and this is what awaits me? Just more dying over and over, but this time it's forever?!

Now they were crying again, feeling just as lonely and scared as the moment when they first woke up. The world around them seemed to blur and fade away to black, the hissing and yowling turned to a dull humming, and all that was left was Moissan and their thoughts.

I'm so useless.

I couldn't even defend myself from the first thing that tried to attack me.

I failed Pearl, didn't I?

I failed myself.

I failed the universe.

I can't accomplish anything it wants me to do.

This whole time, I had my friends right behind me, and now . . .

Now I have no one.

Nobody is here.

No one is coming to help.

No one.

I'm alone.

. . .

Maybe-

"MRRRRP!"

The world flooded back to them, and Hatchling awoke to the feeling of sturdy paws smacking them in the face over and over. "HRRRMMP! FRRREEE!"

"AH!" They shouted, jolting upright and scooting backwards. Their face was cold and wet with tears, their pulse still racing, and their mind trapped in such a dark corner. But standing right in front of them, a startled look on it's face, was Pearl.

"Rrrrrp!" It chirped, sounding almost full of an excited kind of glee. Without waiting for another moment, Pearl rushed over and jumped on Hatchling, nuzzling their face and even gently licking them. It's tongue felt grainy and wet, but was a comfort in an awkward sort of way.

"P-Pearl?" Moissan stuttered, eyes still wide with fear. They were in a different room, and there was no sign of the huge green monster that attacked them. Hatchling could see that Pearl was trying to hide part of their tail, but there was a smear of blood on the ground leading from a tunnel. "Pearl, what happened? Where are we?"

The creature glanced away, ears drooping, as it looked at the claw marks on it's tail. But then it reached beside it, picked up one of the small blue fruits Hatchling saw before, and shoved it in their face. "Urrrrl, urr!"

Gingerly, they reached out and took it, but they felt sick to their stomach. How could they eat at a time like this? When the world was so cruel and hostile, trying to crush them at every chance it got, was it worth it anymore?

"S-Sorry Pearl," they stammered, setting the fruit down. "I'm not . . . I'm not very hungry right now."

It flicked an ear before picking up the fruit again and holding it out to them. "Prrrrfrpl. Urrrm!"

Hatchling sighed and turned away. "I told you, I'm not hungry."

With a snort, it pushed the fruit at their mouth a little, adamant on them taking it. "URRRRRMML."

"Pearl!" Moissan suddenly shouted, anger getting the best of them, "I already told you I don't want it!" They reached over and took the fruit, throwing it as hard as they could across the large gap in the room. "I don't care if you don't understand my voice, you should at least understand when I don't take it!"

The creature paused, watching the fruit sail through the air, before leaping after it. Hatchling watched, feeling guilty for yelling at such a small creature that was likely just as primal as the monster that tried to turn them into a flat hearther. Why did I get so mad at it? It just wants me to eat. Pearl just cares about me.

They drew their knees in, watching their friend jump into the hole where the fruit had fallen. I don't know how to even talk to it again. Is it running away? Leaving me? The thought of having truly no one again scared them. It scared them worse than death, worse than the thought of being purposeless, worse than anything else. As they watched the clouds slowly drift overhead, hoping for even a single ray of sunlight to cheer them up, a flicker of movement caught their eyes.

Was . . . one of the poles in the gap moving?

Sure enough, the top suddenly twisted, revealing large fan-like leaves neatly spaced along the sides as the once-sturdy stick curled in on itself and moved downwards. Hatchling curiously moved towards the edge, watching the display, as it moved down to coil around something snared in the leaves at the base of the not-pole.

Hold on.

That's Pearl caught down there!

Without a second thought, they jumped down, grabbing one of the poles sticking out from the walls to break their fall before sticking the landing on the actual ground. Right next to them, Pearl was twisting and turning, fighting the grip of long, sticky leaves that tried to restrain it desperately. I can pull them out, probably. Right? I can do this, right? Just one thing. One tiny thing to help my partner.

Pearl saw them and gave a pitiful, desperate squeak, reaching out one of it's paws for a helping hand. Moissan nodded, grabbing the damp appendage, and started to pull. It grunted, squinting it's eyes in pain, and the not-pole seemed to shudder from base to tip. Like it can sense I'm stealing it's catch. But I won't let Pearl become some predator's lunch! Not as long as it's my friend.

They took a deep breath and pulled again. One of the leaves lost it's grip, and Pearl was able to free it's other paw to grab Hatchling with. But as the rest of the pole came lurching for it, an idea struck them. "Hang on, Pearl!"

Taking a jump, Hatchling kicked their jetpack thrusters, sending them flying upwards while still firmly grasping Pearl. The creature yowled, but held firm as the grip from all the leaves was broken and the pair flew upwards, landing back on the same platform where they'd started at.

"Are you okay?" They asked, looking their friend over. It shuddered before opening it's mouth and taking out the same fruit it had gotten caught grabbing. Despite the food just being stored in another creature's mouth, Hatchling got the feeling it wasn't going to take their 'no' for an answer.

"Hrrrrlp. Prrrfple . . . "

Moissan reached over, taking the fruit and patting Pearl. "Alright. Fine. You win," they whispered, taking a bite. After the first one, their stomach viciously growled, and they realized that they felt like they had been starving until now. Hastily, they devoured the fruit, then looked at Pearl. "Happy?"

With a small fanged smile, Pearl produced another one and held it out. Moissan blinked, then took this one and ate it as well. Their friend nodded, satisfied, before stepping over to Hatchling and butting it's head against theirs. "Mrrrrrple. Thrrrreeeer."

They couldn't find any words to say 'I'm sorry' to Pearl, but they could make the poor creature feel better after what they'd done to it. Shouting, scaring it, sending it straight to it's almost-doom . . . it was a miracle Pearl came back at all.

"We're both too lonely to lose each other, aren't we?"

Moissan could have sworn Pearl nodded in response, as they finally felt their heartbeat steady and their breathing even out.

I can't give up.

Pearl needs me.

And I need it.

-----

@mellow-mooon

@0silverbluedragon1

@corn-worshipper

@doodlebug091

@isnt-that-grape

@fishbone5

@dragonpurplecristal

@obsidianmage3

[the-teapot-hatter]

Can I request Deuce and Ace visiting off-script mc’s home for the first time. They were expecting mc to lead them to the garbage dump they call home but instead mc leads to their actually very tidy albeit haunted house.

So, I couldn't tell if you wanted them to get acquainted with the house separately, I ended up writing it with them both together. But if you would like to see it with them separate, feel free to submit another request and I'll rewrite it properly next time.

| Ace & Deuce |

(Y/n) didn't really know why they were leading the two knubskulls to their home. Well, they actually did. They were helping them carry back groceries. Grimm ate like he had a black hole in his stomach, so they always made sure to mass buy everything. Well, that and the fact that the other villagers obviously didn't like interacting with (Y/n), even if just to sell them something. Constantly raising the price just for them even though last week they had just helped that very same person with repairs.

Though, (Y/n) casted a glance towards Deuce. They would have to make sure that he didn't see the fish they had caught earlier. Or really, any of their fishing supplies either. Fish was expensive, and rightfully so. By imperial decree, only those with a license could go fishing. And it was even harder due to pirates lately, so fishermen were highly advised to take the Navy with them.

(Y/n) didn't have a license. And they certainly didn't take any member of the Navy with them. However, suspiciously enough, that wolf beastmen that was part of the Navy kept finding them every time they tired to go fishing, often cutting their actions short. 

Point being, it was illegal. Dumpster diving wasn't exactly legal either, but there were technically no laws against it either. And (Y/n) didn't want to find out what would happen if they actually broke the law in front of the young guardsmen. Who would take care of Grimm? The little monster would get himself thrown into a dungeon within the first week on his own. And he would probably get executed for treason for doing something stupid.

Ace on the other hand, they weren't as worried about. Even though he was a young Count. He bared to much resemblance to a certain Phantom Thief to simply be ignored. They didn't have any evidence, and they had never actually confronted Ace about it, but they were pretty certain. In that regard, Ace had absolutely no reason to judge them.

If Ace was actually able to hear what (Y/n) was thinking, he would strongly disagree. Who goes digging through a dumpster for trash when plenty of nobles have offered you a home and a good job? Though, Ace was painfully aware of the reverse. Who's attracted to someone that goes digging through the dumpster? At least Ace wasn't alone in that regard, his red eyes glancing at a certain dumb guardsmen.

Ace knew the aquamarine boy liked (Y/n), but unlike Ace's own selfish reasons, it wasn't the only reason why he was helping them. He genuinely wanted to help and just wanted (Y/n) to have a better living situation. After all, if one goes through trash, they probably live in it, right?

"Um, (Y/n)? Are you sure taking home all of this food is the most... sanitary?" Deuce asked as delicately as he could. He didn't want to offend his strange friend. He'd come to learn they were strangely prideful for someone who regularly dug through the trash.

"Why wouldn't it be?" (Y/n) asked, their tone just a little too sharp. Giving away that they knew exactly what Deuce was talking about. Only, they didn't. Why would they think everyone thinks their living in the dumpster?

"He's talking about the fact that your homes a dump." Ace stated bluntly. Deuce turned to gap at him in horror but didn't have any time to snap at the read haired male when Ace himself was promptly kicked in the shins by (Y/n). 

"My home is perfectly fine you prick! Maybe it doesn't meet your noble standards, but at this point that just means you need to get your eyes checked!" (Y/n) snapped. 

"You mean your home that's in the middle of nowhere!?" Ace countered. And he wasn't wrong, they had been walking for at least an hour in the middle of the woods. Deuce would have worried they were lost if not for the fact that (Y/n) seemed so confident in where they were going.

"It's right over there, you prick." (Y/n) huffed, nodding their head to the left. Deuce and Ace turned to look, fully expecting to see a landfill, but were surprised when they noticed at least a three-story house (house was really putting it too simply). It looked as if it was going to topple over at any given moment, but it certainly wasn't a landfill.

"That's your house!?" Deuce sputtered, and (Y/n) nodded along, looking particularly smug.

"Apparently, it was an old, abandoned dormitory for some prestigious school hundreds of years ago. But it was so run down, the owner gave it to me for cheap!" (Y/n) chirped, not out right saying that they had actually gotten it for free because that's how much the old owners simply didn't want it.

Ace was a little confused. Whoever previously owned this must have been from old money, so why not just fix the place up instead of giving it to a commoner? Even if he was relieved that said commoner didn't actually live in a landfill like some feral raccoon. Deuce seemed to be thinking the same thing, even if he didn't have nearly as much tact as Ace.

"Why would they sell you something that has such an old history? Why not fix it up?" Deuce inquired, his face the picture of innocence. Probably because he didn't actually mean anything by the comment.

"Probably because it's haunted....?" (Y/n) trailed off.

"Haunted!?" Ace and Deuce yelped.

"Henchmen! Hurry it up, I'm getting hungry waiting around for you all day!!" It hadn't actually been that long, but Grimm shouted from the porch as if it had been a lifetime nonetheless. And when he caught sight of Ace and Deuce, he's expression soured. "What are you two doing here?"

"We're here for dinner obviously." Ace cut in. Grimm wasn't the only one left sputtering as Deuce looked at him in shock and (Y/n) turned to glare at him. Ace's grin was devious as he spoke. "I mean, we helped you carry all of this here, it's the least you could do." When (Y/n) rolled their eyes at him, he knew that he won.

"Fine, put you're helping put this all away. And with the cooking. And don't go wondering around on your own either!" (Y/n) snapped.

"I promise that we'll be on our best behavior!" Deuce stated. Ace huffed. (Maybe the fact that Deuce had been assigned to Ace to watch him had gone to his head. But Ace knew Deuce was better than some of the other options the young heir Duke could have given him.)

Grimm groaned and complained the whole time, but Ace and Deuce couldn't find it in themselves to care. And they both had the same thing on their minds, even if one was much more exceedingly mischievous than the other. They were one of the only ones that actually knew where (Y/n) lived, it wouldn't do to not take advantage of such information, right?

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Unwanted Visitor pt 2

Part 1's here, enjoy! (And yes I am desperately trying to work out why I can find a way to finish APNS, which is why you're getting this filler fluff instead)

As we sat, I heard the scuffling of feet. Looking up, I found my parents standing in the hallway, staring at us like we'd grown ourselves extra heads.

It was a fairly normal occurrence, of course. They were terrified of Visitor, and spent most of their time either assuring themselves that he didn't exist or threatening to leave. They never did, in the end, because he never took things too far and they were too much of a pair of cowards to do anything about him.

"Well, hello, Mr and Mrs O'Dell," Visitor smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was a shark's grin, all teeth and no humour. “How lovely to see you two. Won't you come eat with us?”

"I-" My mother stared at him like a frightened rabbit and scurried into the kitchen, where I had left the salad and bacon out for her. Belatedly, my father hurried after her.

"Don't do that," I said tiredly. "They'll think you're gonna kill them or something."

Visitor smirked. "Perhaps I will. Someday," he said, menacingly.

I rolled my eyes. "You've been at it for over a decade now. If you haven't killed me so far, I'll bet good money that you won't ever do it," I told him. Deep down, I suspected he wouldn't hurt me, if only because he treasured having someone to argue with.

"You can't know that for sure," Visitor pointed out, still smiling.

"Yes, I can." I finished my coffee (which was already half gone, thanks to Visitor) and stood up, collecting the plates. "Besides, if you kill me, who's going to give you food?"

"I'll steal it," he said, affecting confidence.

"And how's that working out for you?" I grinned back.

"Shut up," he snapped, the classic signal that I'd won this round. I decided not to push him any further and went into the kitchen, where my parents had perched in the corner.

"Mom, Dad, you really need to stop being afraid of Vis. It encourages him," I scolded.

My mother opened her mouth, and promptly shut it again, before saying, "How do we know he won't hurt us?"

I sighed. "Mom, if he hasn't hurt you in the 10 years he's lived here, he's probably not going to."

"He threatened to kill us!" My father pointed out, shaking with rage or fear. Probably fear.

"Yeah, he's threatening to kill you, but he doesn't mean it," I explained. "It's all a bit of fun."

My parents exchanged glances, then turned to me. "Fun," they echoed.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound convincing. We'd done this song and dance for far too long for me to retain any hope of truly convincing them.

"How can you even say that? He's a demon. A monster," my mother said, shaking her head.

"Yes, and? He hasn't actually harmed you. I mean, aside from breaking the window and hiding your car keys. And the time he set the oven on fire. And the other time he broke the windows. And-"

"You're just proving our point here! He's dangerous!" Gods, I was getting sick of their nonsense. If they were truly in so much danger, we would have moved out by now.

"I was just getting to the good parts!" It was a jest, of course, but they took it far too seriously, as they always did.

"Like the part where he burnt the house down?" My father crossed his arms, as though to exert his authority. Unfortunately, I hadn't respected him since the day he pissed himself upon seeing the dead moose Visitor had brought into the house. Honestly, a bit of gore and they were all fainting over themselves.

"Yeah, no, he's never done that," I said thoughtfully. "That'd be a good trick, though. Imagine the look on your face. Oh, yeah, speaking of which, Mom, the house isn't burning down, is it?"

"What? No." My mother glanced around frantically, sniffing the air, as though to detect a hint of smoke.

"Well, it could be," I said, turning away and dismissing them. "Visitor! If you're done eating, can you do the dishes, please?"

"No." I heard the sound of a chair scraping and felt the signature breeze of his movement.

"Fine. I'll do them myself." I picked up a cloth and began to clean the dishes, ignoring my parents. They eventually decided that they had more important things to do (such as not coming face to face with Visitor, apparently) and wandered off.

"That was rude," I commented, when I felt the breeze swirl around me.

"So was asking me to do the dishes," he retorted, appearing (this time, sans the dumb t-shirt) right beside me.

"You're right, I'm sorry." I glanced down at him with a smile. Every now and then it was a good thing to apologise. Hurting Visitor's ego too much led to him making angry outbursts, such as the bird incident. I never wanted a repeat of the bird incident. "I was just trying to show my parents that you aren't as scary as they think."

"And why would you want them to think that? This way, you have all the power," he said.

"True, but they'll keep bugging me, and you by proxy." I sighed.

"I can live with that." He leaned over and picked up a plate, drying it with the towel.

"Thank you, Vis. For helping me." I meant it, surprisingly. It had taken a long time for him to like me enough to help me out with chores.

"Of course. After all, you made me breakfast," he said tiptoeing up to ruffle my hairm

I smiled and we continued to clean the dishes together. "By the way," he said as we polished the last dish, "It's 9:45 now."

I froze and looked up at the clock. So it was. 9:46, in fact. And my school started at 10:15. "Goddamn it, Vis. You couldn't remind me earlier? Now I'm going to be late for school, you little bastard!" I threw the dishcloth down and made a beeline for my bag. Swinging it over my shoulder, I ran for the door and hopped on my bike.

Taglist down here:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[joslincox]

Ozzy and Drix in 2023

Travis and hector hyped each other up to go to the five nights at Freddy’s movie for sure. both of them also seen Mario too

OZZY AND DRIX LOVED SPIDERVERSE, and the boys took Leah and Maria on a date to see Spiderverse

Drix liked young sheldon

Ozzy, Drix, Maria, and Leah went all out and feud on Family Feud

What was I made for was on, and Christine cried to it

NASTY GOODIES REMIX ON SOUNDCLOUD????? Leah and Maria went nuts to that

MARIA LEAH DRIX AND OZZY WATCHED BLUEY😭😫🤯

Ozzy started blasting Kendrick Lamar’s recent diss tracks (they’re just too good)

Leah, Maria, and Christine totally vibed with Barbie

IM JUST KEN OZZY AND DRIX SOOOO VIBED TO THAT

The Mayoral election was coming up, and Spryman's opponent, a brain cell named Sylvian Fisher, was using a secret growth formula in order to cause destructive unnatural growth spurts and hurt the Mayor's image. Ozzy and Drix had to stop this plan, which became more difficult when Sylvian took the growth formula himself and became a raging and muscular monster.

Hector ate too much candy before Easter, creating a sugar rush that sped up all the cells and caused the bacteria population to swell. When his parents cut him off sugar as a result of this, his drop in blood sugar slowed all the cells to a crawl. However, the bacteria needed sugar, so they formed an army to raid Hector's sugar reserves. Now Drix and an extremely sleepy Ozzy, with the help of the Mole, had to take on the bacterial army.

Hector had recurring nightmares after seeing Five Nights at Freddy’s before Halloween, keeping everyone in the City of Hector awake. Ozzy and Drix promptly went to the Subconscious Network, where dreams are produced, and entered Hector's nightmare in order to help him face his fear. Whatever happened to Ozzy and Drix in the dream happened for real.

Everyone inside Hector forgot who Ozzy and Drix are when Hector experienced a concussion, forcing them to locate the site of the concussion so they could reboot Hector's memories before Hector crashed.

Hector ate an under-cooked chorizo and got sick to his stomach, leading him to get two flatworms Trichinella spiralis in his body. The male worm died, but the pregnant female survived. Ozzy, Drix, and a captain had tried to kill it before Hector's stomach was infected.

Hector discovered hair growing on his chin; the testosterone gang tied up the Mayor and wreaked havoc, causing Hector to get into trouble, especially when sneaking out to an all night party in a dangerous part of town when his parents forbid it. Ozzy and Drix had to stop the testosterone gang and save the mayor.

After getting injured on a police case, Maria was sent home to rest for the week. She decided to use this time to work on a family reunion coming up for her. Drix noticed a rip on the corner of Maria's family picture. Maria didn't seem to want to talk about it, but then her brother Ricky came in and started putting the puzzle pieces together. Maria and Ricky shared their past with Drix, which turned out Ricky being the family troublemaker. Maria lost her trust in him, so Drix decided to help Ricky get it back. He allowed him to be a private eye along with Ozzy with good results, and Ricky actually became one of the best. However, Ricky was working for Strepfinger, who ploted to create a tumor out of Drix's medications, but now Ricky was reluctant to hurt Maria again. Meanwhile, both Hector and Spryman had their quincenaros/15th birthdays and celebrated Day of the Dead.

Hector used a nose spray to clear his congested nose, and Drix's aunt Auntie Histamine appeared. Suddenly, Hector's water levels dropped, and Ozzy realized Drix's aunt was causing it, thanks to Hector's carelessness.

Hector was super-sizing at fast-food restaurants too much which not only made him gain weight, but it also gave a cholesterol named Stickety Lipid, the chance to kidnap a fat cell family's child in an attempt to clog an artery. Ozzy and Drix (and the new navigational system, installed by Drix, named Backseat) had to return the huge blob to his parents in time. Hector also had to get in healthier shape.

While snowboarding with Travis in Christmas, Hector crossed an off-limits area. Hector started to freeride but fell and ripped his snowsuit. This caused a virus named Cryo to drop Hector's temperature. Ozzy and Drix were getting ready for a day at the beach, but now had to stop Cryo from making Hector die of hypothermia.

Christine saw the trailers for Trolls Band Together and even owned the movie soundtrack and saw the movie in theaters.

All the female cells (especially in Christine) started wearing pink clothes to school (#BARBIECORE)

Christine went BIG and ended the year by going to see Disney's Wish in theaters.

Ozzy went on vacation inside Christine's body (#BADDIE)

Hector, Christine, and Travis graduated from middle school and are now in high school.

Hector had to go to a dentist's appointment and then take a driver's test

[thebiscuiteternal]

since you said crossovers were okay can we see some of that fashion buddies crossover you mentioned awhile back?

(Man, copypasting and editing this on my phone turned out to be a pain in the ass.)

----------

There are rumblings of a strange new monster wandering about the jianghu. It appears to be a woman dressed in scandalous black clothing with gold armor, except it can't be an actual woman because the scout reports say that she can grow taller than the trees or smaller than a bird, that she can fly on insect wings and shoot lightning from her hands.

A joke, the great sects think. A tale created and spread by drunkards.

Until a group of Lan disciples are the next to cross her path.

---

Janet van Dyne is having a very, very bad week. She's lost count of the number of magical or technological portals she's been tossed through in her lifetime, so at first she'd been grateful to at least have ended up on Earth this time.

And then the first group of people she had come across had promptly run screaming.

What Mandarin she's picked up on both her jobs is no help, since no one gives her time to speak before they attack, and like hell she's just going to stand there and let herself be stabbed.

Which has only led to this. Staring at a drawing of a snarling face under the hooded visor of her costume.

She groans and pinches the bridge of her nose to stave off a headache, then considers her options.

She's been (guiltily) stealing food in her small form already... maybe if she could nick some clothing, it would be easier to hide...

The only problem being that she would also need to steal a basin so she could particle-treat them to change size with her (no naked escapes, thank you very much), and that would be noticeable.

She's still deciding what to do when two young men, a grouchy looking one Steve's size in greens and greys and the other more placid one in the white and blue of the last group to try and kill her, enter the inn through the doorframe she's currently hiding on.

And they have swords like that last group.

Shit.

Time to go.

She slips out of a gap between boards and heads for the edge of town, but only a little ways away from the inn, she starts feeling inexplicably exhausted.

Maybe the sleep deprivation is catching up to her. Holes in trees and cracks in walls aren't exactly comfortable.

Without meaning to, her flight path starts drifting lower as the sleepiness gets worse.

-and then she's startled back to fully awake when she's snared right out of the air by a net with glowing threads.

"Fu-" <<Hey! Let me out!>>

The kid holding the net looks a year or two younger than Nadia and Ying, and... oh, damn, he's wearing the same colors as tall, dark, and grumpy back at the inn. That can't be a coincidence.

<<You don't look all that scary for a monster,>> he says, tilting his head.

Oh, thank God. Finally, someone who talks first instead of going right for stabby things.

<<That's because I'm not a monster,>> she replies, retracting her visor into her hood and yanking it back to uncover her hair, ears, and face.

<<But you are magical?>>

She briefly debates how much she should explain, then settles on keeping it simple. <<I was a science experiment.>>

That seems to be good enough, as the boy puts the net down on a table that passers-by are unlikely to notice, letting her start untangling herself.

He sits down and rests his chin on his fists with a grin she knows all too well promises mischief. <<So does that mean you don't want to use your giant size to crush thousands of innocents into soup?>>

<<Alright, one: That's morbid. And gross... Are people really saying that?>>

<<Among other horrors.>>

She groans. <<Great. No. Literally the only two things I want right now are a bath and some sleep.>>

Before he can answer, there's a commanding bark of "Huaisang!" from the street, and the kid winces.

<<Friend of yours?>>

<<My older brother,>> he replies, then scratches his cheek in thought. <<Can you hide in my sleeve?>

<<Your collar would be easier on both of us,>> Jan says. She's still wary, but seeing as he seems willing to risk trusting her, she'll go along.

She flutters up to settle between the third and fourth layers, hiding under his hair and tucking her wings in to curl herself up small.

<<All set?>>

She hopes she's not making a huge mistake. <<Let's go.>>

[magic-is-something-we-create]

I would like answers for your most weird girl energy OC.

🌙 - What’s their sleep schedule like?

🤡 - What’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

🍳 - How well can they cook?

🧸 - Do they have any stuffed animals? If so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

Hi!! Thank <3

I'll answer these for Dawn, because she is the Weirdest of Girls (affectionate).

🌙 - Absolutely fucked! She's vampiric (which in the Ehlverse is more like Magical Rabies except you aren't guaranteed to die, and if you survive the initial Monster Phase, your metabolism goes wacky and you get severe sunlight sensitivity) WHICH ALSO HAPPENS TO MEAN that my girl is awake approximately 20/7 from a mix of less need to sleep and also traumatic nightmares from said monster phase.

She does sleep, just not consistently, and she's almost always awake when other characters are, no matter how offset their own schedules from everyone else's. Her eyes also reflect in the dark like cats, so she accidentally jumpscares people a lot because of that.

🤡 - Not dumb, per se, but she did at one point angrily mock Lakia for refusing to read on their joint research assignment, and promptly found out that it's a very sore spot for very good reason. Cue mortification.

I'm pretty sure that's actually the last point where she yells at Lakia in canon too? Their rivalry is still going strong, but she never pulls that kind of thing again. I imagine she still thinks about it when she does try to sleep.

🍳 - She cannot cook at all. 1) she's recently-Vampiric, so she can't even eat solid food any more, 2) she's 16 and up until very recently two of her three parents were adamant about not letting her near the kitchen ever, and 3) she plans to spend as much of her adult life in the wilderness as possible subsisting off of hunting and gathering.

🧸 - No stuffed animals any more, but she absolutely would if she could! She's had quite the life upset even after the Vampirism thing got settled, and uh. Is no longer even on the same continent as what stuffed animals may have been left anymore.

She would totally sleep with them, though! Maybe she'll get some more in the future.

Thank you for the ask!!

[ilwolf]

Day Two- Treat

Character: Paracelsus, Bigby and Audrey 

Word count: 1579

I just wanted to write something soft.

Paracelsus returns home after a particularly tough excursion.

  Paracelsus trudged up the stairs. Heavy boots on carpet so worn you can see the rotten wood underneath, threatening to take her down. Even the clothes on her back felt like a lead weight trying to pull her down. Every step towards the door just made her want to collapse and give up. She’d be happy to die in the most inconvenient place possible.

    The only reason she kept going was because what was at home. 

    She finally reached the door to their tiny one room home and walked in. Promptly falling over the heavy shackles on the floor.

    “Sorry.”

    She picked her face off the floor to see Audrey putting tiny plaits into Bigby’s mane. 

    She felt sorry for the poor guy, he probably got overly stressed out if he transformed at home. 

    “Why didn’t you move them from the door?” She asked as she sat up and started undressing herself. She needed to remove the outside world off her. 

    “Why?”

    She rolled her eyes and scooted across the floor to join them. 

    Bigby lifted his head and put his muzzle in her lap. 

    She instinctually stroked his face. 

“You two are happy I’m going to make food.” Audrey got up and straighten out her top before making her way to the fireplace. 

His skin was warm and his breathing was so rhythmic that she started to doze off. “Take it you had a rough day as well?” She asked in an attempt to stay awake. 

He huffed but he just melted into her lap as she pet his ears. His leg started to kick as she found the spot. It was funny to do this to him when he’s human, but adorable as a monster. 

She looked up when she can smell something cooking. Audrey had the frying placed precariously on some apparatus she had found. They really needed an actual oven and not using what was affectively a camp fire in their living room.

The peace was ruined by the distinct cracking of bones. She moved her hand and let him back up. 

She tried not to look as his body returned to his smaller form. There was an opportunity to work out how it worked but she was so tired. Tomorrow was going to be another day.

“Welcome back.”

He gasped and heaved. 

There wasn’t anything either of them could do for him. Unfortunately, it was a waiting game. At least they were under attack so he could recover from the transformation. “Do you want me to plait your hair?” 

He nodded and tried to move towards her, but his limbs weren’t having it. 

She scooted over towards him and helped him move, so she can reach his hair. 

“I should be comforting you.” He mumbled. “You are the one exhausted.”

She methodically parted and played with his hair. It was easy, left over middle, right over middle. “It’s fine, I have to do work tonight. So I can’t really sleep.”

“No.” He flopped backwards and pinned her. 

“BIGBY.” She tried pushing him off. There was much she could dp as he was deceptively heavy.

“You need to sleep.” He rolled over so he could bury his head into her neck. “I need you two next to me.”

How could she say no to that? She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and just held him. 

“How does it feel being the disgusting one?” Audrey laughed at them two. 

“Get your butt over here and do your job then.” She bit back.

“Chill.” Audrey held out her hands in a placating manner. She gave a small, soft smile. “I will soon. I’m not ignoring the eggs cause eggs.”

“Smells good.” She could feel Bigby smile against her neck. 

“I don’t think Para would smell that good.”

Paracelsus found the nearest thing to hand and threw it at Audrey. The graverobber laughed and danced out the way of whatever it was.

He lifted his head. “She’s smelled worse.”

“Rude.” She gasped and jabbed him into his side. Unless move as it didn’t affect him.

“Food.” There was a laugh as three plates got placed on the floor.

It was way too much effort to move to get food.

Bigby let out a quiet sad noise.

“Can’t complain you didn’t cook.”

“I know. I feel bad being unable to have done so.”

Paracelsus shrugged. “Why? She’s been freeloading off the both of us.”

“Damn right.” Audrey leaned forwards to kiss Bigby and steal some food off his plate.

Para rolled her eyes and scrapped some of her food onto his plate. Ignoring his whines. Bigby retaliated against Audrey to steal food for Para. Light, it was a mess at meal time. She still thought they should share off one plate. Would also save on washing up but they told her no. Reason rarely worked with those two.

She leaned against him as it was getting harder to focus on getting food from the plate to her mouth. 

“Hey wanna bird food?” Audrey waggled her eyebrows at her.

She glared at her. “If you spit in my mouth, it will be the last thing you do.”

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tightly for a hug. “Do you need help? Or would you rather sleep?”

“I want to know what happened to you.” She can eat slowly. Didn’t matter if food went cold as long as it was cooked. Terribly, but it was cooked. 

He went very quiet. “It’s nothing different from every other day.”

“Who am I stabbing?” She stated matter of fact. She could get away with it. There weren’t many competent healers around. 

“N-n-n- no one.” 

Audrey snorted. “Yeah, I gave Tardif a bottle of wine and a name.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You said I couldn’t do anything. All I did was give Tardif a name. I didn’t say murder them.” She grinned.

Bigby placed his face in his hands. 

“Murder will happen regardless of who stabs them.” Paracelsus stabbed the meat a little too forcefully. No one was allowed to hurt Bigby.

-

“Come on.” 

She stared at Bigby in confusion. She didn’t realise when she had fallen asleep or when he picked her up. 

Her hand wandered to the scarring on his face. He flinched when her fingers touched it. She moved her hand down to cup his cheek before wrapping her arm around him. 

“You have to let go.”

“No.”

And like the absolute monster he was, he dropped her on the bed. 

He could have at least looked sorry for it. Instead he just tried to get her clothes off her. Not that she was being helpful because holding her arms up was too much effort. 

“Para.” He whined at her.

There was no intent to be awkward and difficult. It was just happened that when she put her hands in the air she went backwards on the bed. 

He just sighed at her. “You aren’t sleeping in your day dress.”

“Why not? It is just clothes.”

The bed shifted as Audrey appeared. “He wants to see your boobs.” Bigby made a small distressed noise. A noise he normally made when he got called out for something true. 

“You want to see my boobs.” She stated plainly. It was so hard keeping her eyes open. Next time she was going to argue about extra camping. Even if she really wanted to go home.

“Yeah and?”

It took both of them to help her get changed. Annoyingly, she did feel better in her clean night dress. She wasn't going to give either of them the satisfaction of being right. A part of her didn’t want to let go of the stupid argument.

Bigby just threw her like a doll to the top of the bed. “Hurry up, it's cold in here.” 

She just stared at Audrey getting undressed and into her night gown. 

    It didn’t take long for them to make sure everything was locked up, and their abomination joined her in bed. He was so warm to the touch that honestly they didn’t need a fire during the night. Audrey just had to made one last check to make sure the fire was contained. It will burn out in the night, or kill them but at that point who would care. 

    She blinked. Bigby would kill her himself if he had heard that thought. Or maybe he could hear her thoughts as he pulled her closer to him. 

Audrey straddled his hips. “Hey.”

“No.” He pushed her too hard and she fell off the bed. If Paracelsus could focus properly, as she could barely keep her eyes open, she would have laughed at the dumb confused look on her face. .

“You ok?”

“I’m good.” The grave robber stood up. “You won’t be.” Then proceeded to try and tackle him. 

She wanted to join in on the play fighting, but she was going to have to be content with the laughter.

-

Paracelsus opened her eyes. It was still dark out. She could feel Audrey’s legs wrapped around hers. She flexed her hand and Bigby instinctually grabbed it. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dark. She saw Bigby trying to curl up on himself in his sleep. Audrey was stopping that by being flopped over him like some dumb cat. She rolled over, ignoring Audrey’s grumbling, and rested her head against Bigby’s.

She smiled and closed her eyes. These were her idiots. She wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[morganalefay]

"Yenralt Repeat Until Death" !!!!! tell me everything :D

So "Repeat Until Death" is thanks to the song by Novo Amor, since it reminds me so much of Yenralt, and the lyrics fit the mood for the fic. "I can't seem to let myself leave you ... I can't seem to not need to need you"

This story was something I started before s3 aired, and it was my "fix-it" version of the show after s2. So basically, our little found family coming together and Geralt and Yen finding their way back to each other. I lost a lot of my drive to finish it once s3 aired, since I felt like it made this fic a bit pointless, but I did love a lot of the ideas I had, so maybe I'll get back to it.

One of the scenes that inspired the fic was the idea of Yen trying to teach Ciri how to read minds, calling back to how Tissaia tried to make it about their worst fears, whereas Istredd helped Yen by imagining things she'd like. (Of course it goes wrong, and Ciri sees Yen's worst fears.) Another idea that stuck in my head was what happens when portals go wrong, because Geralt's hatred of them has to be based in something.

Most of this fic is roughly mapped out in outline form, but here's a snippet that's actually fleshed out:

“Can you read minds?” “Mm, yes, ugly one, I can,” Yennefer replied, taking a slow sip of her drink. Ciri looked back at the table where the witchers sat, then over to where Jaskier was drumming his fingers restlessly on his knees. “What’s Jaskier thinking right now?” Yennefer paused for a moment, concentrating, then snorted in amusement. “He’s composing a new song, shockingly enough. Something about, ‘piercing eyes like lightning, a woman so very frightening’--” she stopped abruptly, glaring at the bard. “Jaskier,” she snapped loudly, at which the bard startled, banging his leg against the table in the process. “That song better not be about me.” Jaskier laughed awkwardly as the witchers looked on in confusion, then promptly stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. Yennefer huffed in annoyance before returning her attention to Ciri. “See ugly one, this is why you have to use this ability with caution, you may hear some unpleasant things otherwise.” Ciri’s curiosity still wasn’t sated, however, and she nodded in Lambert’s direction with a grin on her lips. “What about Lambert?” Yennefer sighed before acquiescing, unable to resist encouraging Ciri’s interest in her magical abilities. Usually the girl only cared when it came to learning about monsters and beheading tactics. “Witchers are a bit more difficult to read, but not impossible.” Taking a breath, Yennefer pushed past the slight resistance in Lambert’s mind. After a few seconds of silence, Ciri impatiently asked, “Well?” Narrowing her eyes slightly at Ciri’s impertinence, Yennefer purposefully made her wait a bit longer before sharing, “He’s complaining about the food.” Coen, who had been listening in, let out a burst of laughter. “Wasn’t it your turn to cook, Lambert?” Ignoring Lambert’s crude retort, Yennefer continued to tune into his thoughts, narrating them for Ciri. “Now he’s focused on something he heard-- footsteps. It’s...” she trailed off, looking up as Geralt entered the Great Hall. Their eyes met for a brief moment, just enough for her breath to catch before he turned away. It didn’t escape Yennefer’s notice that he took the farthest seat possible from her. Ciri watched the wordless exchange between the two before quietly asking, “Can you read Geralt’s mind?” Yennefer met Ciri’s gaze, swallowing down the pain that rose in her chest at the thought of hearing Geralt’s feelings towards her right now. “I can,” a beat and then, “but I won’t.” She could feel the heat of Geralt’s stare on her back and knew he could hear them. “He’s not particularly fond of people rifling around in his head, and I can’t say I blame him.” “Oh, but you have no problem doing it to us, I see how it is,” Jaskier grumbled.

And another little bit:

“It was all our little witcher here, she came up with the plan.” Ciri beamed and began to reenact the fight for Geralt. As Ciri climbed up on a rock, Yennefer kept her eyes on the girl, but leaned toward Geralt to comment, “Apparently she learned it from some reckless fool who used her as bait one time.” Out of the corner of her vision, she could see Geralt’s stoic expression falter, and she teased, “Wonder who that could have been.” A hint of a smile appeared on his lips as Geralt watched Ciri leap from the rock, but it vanished before Yennefer could turn to face him. “Hmm. Must’ve been Lambert.”

[sabineelectricheart]

The Runaway Queen and the Exalt Who Seeks Her [Pt. 1]

Summary: Robin cannot go on anymore and surrenders to Chrom. He promptly takes her back to the capital.

Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.

Explicit depictions of violence. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1515

Notes: Risen King is hot and I can’t deny, but let’s make it creepy, too.

Honestly, Robin thought that she would die somewhere more domestic.

She does not remember her life in the before times, before she met the Shepherds, before she came to Ylisse, before Emmeryn passed away, before Grima and the Risen King. That being said, they did come about to her as a vagrant, passed out on the side of the river, so she does not hold much hope that they were much better.

Perhaps this has been always her destiny, to have no set place to live nor to fall at last, but circumstances made her wonder with some frequency. Perhaps it would be on the doorstep of an empty cathedral, or on the floor of a filthy tavern, or at the dungeons of Ylisstol Castle, with his hands around her neck and his eyes still filled with that wild, fiery anger he could never seem to wash away words of love and promises of safety.

She thought she would die somewhere closer to home, to the place she ended up, much to her chagrin, calling as such, if nothing else. She thought she would fall somewhere less alien to her than a hole of a cave on the outskirts of Plegia, where the air was heavy and the closest friendly face was that of the beast pursuing her, separate from the monster who would probably take her life. She thought it would be quick, that she would struggle, that she would be able to struggle, and that she would fail.

Robin thought she would be able to accept it. She thought she would be able to face it bravely, and yet, here she is. Cowering. Drawing it out.

Being difficult, as Chrom would have loved to put it.

She might have had a chance, if she had managed to get her hands on a proper weapon. The dagger strapped to her thigh was a joke compared to the claws of the Falchion she is hiding from, the one who had sent her crawling into a slit on a barren cliffside. Even with her supply of magical scrolls and spells, glowing faintly with elemental energy, she needed a catalyst, a sword, something to release that energy through that would not be ripped apart as easily as skin and bone.

If she casts right now, all it would do is alert her husband of her position, which, conversely is the only thing between them.

For now, the artificer could only buy herself some time, threading strings of frost between her splayed fingertips, wrapping a thin layer of ice around the gaping wound in her calf. She could do nothing about the throbbing in her chest, the awkward bend of her ankle, the sharp edges of jade and lapis cutting into her bruised skin, but it was enough to stop the bleeding, to give herself another second to breathe. She needed a second. She needed an hour. She needed a small eternity, but she doubted any of her aggressors would ever be so kind.

Robin does not know where she is. She had only been able to find a few maps of Plegia, but she doubted they had survived the Falchion’s initial attack, and she had never been this far away from Ylisse, or at least, not that she can actually remember. The same went for the rest of her supplies, what little food and water she had been able to buy with the meagre collection of golden coins she had stolen from the Royal Treasury before she left.

That had been a risk, in hindsight. The staff would not notice if she were gone, not for a few days, but they would notice the missing coins, and then they would think to check her hiding spots, and her absence would be reported to her doting husband with minimal delay, who would launch a campaign post-haste. She would have to hunt or beg her next few meals off of the locals of the nearest village.

Of course, that is assuming that she would even survive this, and that seemed to be more and more…

A wave of heat washed over she, intense and smouldering and familiar. There was a scream, animalistic and inhuman, and just like that, the rampaging Falchion fell silent.

Robin hoped for a moment, beyond any reason, that it was someone else, anyone else. That it was just an adventurer, a kind stranger, another magician or artificer who would come more prepared for a fight. Then, she caught a distant sigh, the sound of metal against solid earth, and she cursed herself for ever daring to be so optimistic.

“Come out.” Chrom called, barely raising his voice. He did not have to. If she were close enough to hear, he already knew that she would be listening. “I don’t want to play this game anymore, Robin.”

She could have refused. She could have tried to stay hidden, pushed herself deeper into the crevice that has kept her safe so far, held her breath and shut her eyes, hoping that the Exhalt lost his will before she did. However, she is injured, and exhausted, and she already knew that he would only take disobedience as an excuse to drag her out himself.

Favouring her good leg, she pushed herself through the slit of an opening, exiting the tight cavern and stumbling into the open valley.

The smoke hit her first, dry and fragrant, hanging the air and making it hard to catch her breath as she leaned against the cliffside. The dry grass was still burning, trees and shrubbery completely scorched, and the Holy Monarch stood in the middle of it all, his posture straight and his broadsword embedded in the ground at his side, the charred embers of what used to be a sword still disintegrating around it.

Chrom looked like a god, like an ancient dragon. He looked like a demon. He looked like a monster, but he would always look like that to her.

His gaze flickered over she, appraisingly. She knew how she must have looked: bruised, bloody, her clothes tattered and skin smudged with dirt. She tried to stand tall, regardless, as she could not stand the thought of letting him look down on her so quickly.

The blue-haired man scoffs. “Five days.”

“That is all?” She dismissed, trying to keep her tone apathetic, uncaring. “It feels like weeks have passed since I last saw you, darling.”

He ignored her sass and continues, “You have been gone for five days.”

He is not listening to her, the woman notes with some disinterest. That was probably for the best. Nothing she is willing to say would have improved her situation.

“I come home, spent and ready to embrace my beloved, only to find your window unlatched and my best horse missing from the stables. I had no way of knowing where to find you. I thought you had been kidnapped. I thought were dead.” He says, his voice almost sounding agonized.

Robin is starting to bleed, again. She is more of a strategist than a fighter, better at planning action and dealing with the fallout than being out on the field, but her injuries would need time, attention, a lot of scrolls of magic. More than she could give them under his careful scrutiny.

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Because it would be so terrible for someone to steal me away from such an accomplished tyrant.”

Chrom did not try to deny it. His frown deepened, his agitated expression hardening into something a touch closer to genuine rage, but he only let out another airy sigh, shaking his head as his broadsword vanished. He took step towards her, then another, a gloved hand nearly brushing against her cheek before curling into a fist and falling away.

She almost wished he would hit her. At least then, she would not have to watch him try so hard not to.

“I was not the only one you worried with your selfishness, my dear.” He said, instead. “Morgan is very concerned.”

She really, really wished he would hit her.

“Don’t say his name.” The woman growls.

The rage fades slightly, giving way to sadistic glee. “You left him in my care. I have every right to mention my new responsibility.”

He does not have to take her wrist, to grab her by the collar, to offer an idle threat in exchange for her cooperation. He just had to turn away, to gesture for her to follow. She knew better than to disobey, especially after she had already been caught.

“I have a carriage waiting in the nearest village. You can tend to your wounds on our way home.” He informs his wife, without bothering to face her.

Robin knew better than to disobey. Yet, she did not know better than to test his limits.

“And if I do not want to go home with you?” She countered in a heartbeat.

Chrom only glanced over his shoulder, a smile nearly tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t believe I gave you another choice, darling.”

*_*_*_*_*

The Runaway Queen and the Exalt Who Seeks Her Masterlist

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Awakening Masterlist

[deadwooddross]

could you tell us about umami and grendel?

YES i CAN, theyre kind of also my group playtime ocs so they have a variety of AUs, but theyre pretty consistent thematically throughout, so for the Basics Umami: Gentle and gregarious giant from a pack of communal punks relatively cut off from the rest of society, good natured and primed to be ripped apart by the realities of life Outside Home. Grendel: Only child with basically 0 support network and chronic conditions that rig their entire life from the jump, prone to self destructive habits, especially if things start looking Too Good. MORE BELOW...

Umami is adopted, sometimes this means being a baby left on a doorstep in Appalachia, other times this is being a fuzzy puffbaby found on the icy fields of a tidally locked snowball, but either way she always sticks out like a sore thumb amongst her peers. Tends to feel like she doesnt quite fit, both socially and just. Physically, in some cases more than others, so you get a very restless late bloomer who finally leaves the fairly cozy farmy life on her own little adventure! Her house is a bus, and at some point it doubles as a food truck- which she charges absolutely not enough for, so once she's Really out by herself that alone is a struggle. But she tends to do well by pure charisma- and parking near bars with $3+ Pay What You Can burritos the size of a baby Grendel on the other hand has just had shit luck from the get go! Bare minimum care-taking, running around with packs of half feral kids stealing stuff, typically gets mauled by some animal in a thievery attempt gone bad and then is promptly sent to one of those...you know when instead of going to jail or juvie some kids get sent to those.."character building" nightmare camps. That kinda thing, in their "canon" it involves working on the coast and doing oyster farming and isnt actually the worst for awhile. They do get in trouble there though and then go to Actual Prison and continue to dig a hole because even getting out on good behavior, they're still kinda kneecapped by.. ~The Prison Industrial Complex~. They usually make money via theft and Whatnot bc they are trying to keep up with medicine for maintaining a heart transplant or something similar. Canon/sci-fi grendels are in somewhat less dire of a situation and just have an Experimental one shoved in there- though there is probably money on their head for that No-Maintenance billionaire heart...(which they escaped with). Their maintenance problem comes Later. Zombie au grendel gets Bit and steals a bunch of proto-cures that only work on a monthly or so basis, sci-fi grendel sips something they shouldnt, etc etc. Eventually the two of them meet and the more Grendel learns about Umami the more they cannot fucking stand her- they just get So Mad about the differences in their situations that they decide to fuck her over by stealing her whole ass house/bus and ditching her somewhere. Thus thrusting poor unprepared Umami Directly into the middle of everything with Nothin, and leaving Grendel with the GUILTIEST CONSCIENCE..and a bus! Now everything after this i don't have especially figured out bc Solo and Friend Sandbox makes things happen differently fdhjgf Oh yeah also their 'canon' setting is a sorta capitalist hellscape where reality is a little bit broken and there might be little a monsters? Ish and her mud family also live there! Grendel is also my little meow meow but they kinda take turns with umami in the baby rotation, but its kind of a different Vibe. UMAMI PLEASE DONT GIVE IN TO THE VOID, TAKE CHARGE OF YOUR LIFE vs OH GOD GRENDEL STOP SABOTAGING EVERY CHANCE YOU HAVE AT A RELATIONSHIP

[eloquentornot]

Inspired by this post by @theminecraftbee

To be fair, he had thought the "transformation" would be more of a metaphorical thing. The potion's description said it would reveal the true nature of his spirit, and help him become one with that nature. So he thought it was a self-acceptance thing. He had been feeling a bit down on himself lately, especially with the idea that his new rival somehow came from some dark hidden part of himself, so he thought it would help. And for about three seconds, it really did!

"The true nature of a young lion. You are brave and strong, dependable yet not afraid to show a more playful side. You are beloved in equal parts for your firm loyalty and sweet kindness. Do you accept this?"

He answered "yes" to the mystical voice in his head, hoping to feel unnaturally confident for a few days and get an overall boost to his mental health, only to then find himself glowing and shrinking, surprised at how painless the process was as he looked down at his new, tiny, beige paws.

He looked up in confusion at the wandering trader who had sold him the potion, and she promptly drank a bucket of milk to reveal that she was actually a witch. Of course. He growled and prepared to pounce, but she drank a speed potion and soon disappeared into the woods.

Welsknight's day went from bad to worse when, after about an hour of pacing about, getting distracted by his new kitty instincts and playing with the grass, then suddenly refocusing on wondering how he could possibly fix this, he heard the familiar shimmer of his nether portal being used. Ears flat against his head, he spun to face the incoming visitor, wondering how he could possibly explain this...

Only to see that, of course, it was Helsknight. He stepped out of the portal on the opposite side to Wels, and walked around a little, looking at what had been built since their last encounter. Wels considered running or hiding, but he knew he couldn't just leave his evil counterpart to roam free around the base.

"Go away, I don't have time to deal with you right now!" he tried to say, but to his horror all that came out of his mouth was an adorable little mewling growl!

Helsknight looked over at the source of the sound, seeing only a small lion cub standing boldly before him, its face scrunched into a somehow cute expression of disgust. He smiled, leaning down towards it.

"Hey there, little guy..."

The words sounded absolutely alien, coming from that monster's gravelly, echoing voice! Helsknight's pale face showed nothing but a typical human reaction to something cute, but Wels backed away in shock, almost not caring that he probably looked like he was cringing in fear.

"Hey, it's okay, I won't hurt you!" Hels assured the cub, bending down to make himself look as small as possible and reaching out gently, invitingly. "I'm a friend, I promise."

Welsknight was baffled. Wasn't Helsknight supposed to be made entirely of negative traits, things Wels would choose to remove from himself? How could he have a love for animals? Although, in some stories, the villain always had a cat... No, that would be ridiculous, cats weren't evil, no matter what some people thought! This had to be a trick...

"Here, do you want some food?" Helsknight was now holding a cooked porkchop, and despite everything he knew to be true, Wels found himself cautiously stepping towards the delicious scent, and taking a bite of the offered meal.

He ate slowly, his lion side savouring the taste as he watched Helsknight's reaction carefully. His red eyes lit up in delight, and he slowly leaned closer, reaching towards the cub's head. But Wels flinched back, swiping at the armoured hand with a hiss!

"Okay, no touching, I get it!" Helsknight said quickly, taking a step back but leaving the remaining food on the ground. The cub finished it quickly and then sat calmly, staring up at him with a somehow perplexed look. "You're quite interesting, kitty," he mused. "Almost certainly a lion cub... What are you doing here, anyway?" He looked around suddenly, remembering where he was. "Good thing Welsy didn't see that," he muttered under his breath, but the cat's small ears heard it loud and clear.

Welsy? An idea began to form in Welsknight's mind. More of a concept at first, evolving into a kind of maybe plan. Helsknight had claimed to be some sort of terrible shadow, a force of pure evil to be feared. And Wels, naïve as he could occasionally be, had bought it, taking the villain entirely seriously. Of course, the seriousness of the situation was warranted, whatever Helsknight really was he was still aiming to bring destruction to Hermitcraft. But now, Wels got to see a glimpse of something else in his so-called Hels counterpart. Something he would be embarrassed to admit to. A warm, gentle side to the supposedly heartless knight of Hels. What more could Wels learn about his foe, if he played along in this situation?

"Well, if he's not here then I've got some searching to do... Eh, can't be bothered right now." And with that, Helsknight walked back into the nether portal, but was surprised to see the cub follow him! "Oh, you want to come with me?" he asked, as the two of them swirled in the purple mists between dimensions.

Welsknight stumbled out into the burning hot air, as dizzy as the first time he had ever used a portal! It seemed his new body wasn't used to it, nor was the new nose an advantage in the stench of blood and foul dust that permeated the dimension. His distress must have been clear, because despite his earlier promise not to touch, Helsknight picked him up and carried him in a surprisingly comfortable position.

"Hey, you'll be okay soon, it's a lot to get used to, I know," he said soothingly. "There's a secret way we have to use to get to my home, it's a bit scary but it won't hurt, okay?"

Despite his nausea, Wels forced his eyes and ears open, suddenly very aware of what a risky plan this was. If this was a trick after all...

Helsknight tossed a strange block, cyan with details in gold and a grey frame, into a fire, turning the flames purple. He stepped into the fire, and for a moment it felt like they were falling, the purple light rushing up around them and vanishing in an instant! They were now in a totally black void room, with nothing but a strange door before them; it looked like a mashup of the crimson and warped door variants, glitching and shifting as if the two plant types of the nether were at war within the wood. Helsknight opened the door a crack and looked around cautiously before stepping through and placing the cub on the ground.

The corridor was wide and long, with soul lanterns hanging from the low blackstone roof in random places giving it a claustrophobic feel. The floor was some weird blend of netherrack and something else, possibly crimson nylium, possibly something far worse. The walls were completely covered by hundreds of doors like the one they'd come through, some more magenta and others more cyan. Above the doors were signs, most likely labels of where the doors led. Looking up, Wels saw the sign that said "Hermitcraft 7" with a note added at the bottom: "Property of Helsknight! Back off!"

Wels followed Helsknight along the endless hall of doors, doing his best to keep track of how far they had to go. From some of the other labels, it was fairly obvious that this place was like a nether hub between nether hubs, he recognised the names of a few other worlds and they were all very far from home, going further as they went. Eventually, the doors stopped and the hallway opened out into a much larger area, looking somewhat like any nether except for the massive unspeakable horrors just visible moving around in the distance. Wels decided not to look too far for too long, and focused on following Helsknight up a precarious blackstone brick staircase. As they reached the top of the cliff, his tiny jaw dropped at the sight before him. An ornate blackstone bridge with a few blocks of netherite for decoration led to what looked like a beautifully renovated nether fortress, a massive dark castle above an ocean of lava. The lava seemed to have sharks in it.

"Stay close to me," Helsknight whispered, before striding confidently across the bridge. Welsknight scrambled to follow, trying to ignore the glowing green stares of distant wither skeletons, equipped with what looked like fully enchanted netherite gear. Helsknight stopped some distance before the gate, and Wels nearly bumped into his shoes. There was a something. Wels didn't look directly at it.

"Hideous..." it rasped. "Since possessing that frail vessel... You are pathetic, knight. Now you bring a freak of the light world? To this place?"

"You're just jealous I can do whatever I want now, Darling," Helsknight growled, pointing his sword at it. "I know you miss me, but we're done, now move along..."

It shrieked quietly and went in a direction Wels didn't want to keep track of. No-one else interrupted their path through the castle, and he hoped this wasn't the sort of place to magically shift about as he made a rough mental map of the way. The insides were mostly nether brick, with red carpets and soul lanterns giving the place an almost homely feel. If one ignored the sounds coming from the dark teal plants growing in some of the corners.

They stopped in front of a door labelled "Domain of Helsknight" with the additional note "KEEP OUT" carved into the door itself. Inside, the room was lit by a roaring central fireplace, familiar orange flames burning for once and surrounded by red nether brick fences from floor to ceiling. Bookshelves lined the left wall, and there was a dark oak desk against the far wall, papers strewn across it. On the right was a small window of red glass panes overlooking a garden courtyard full of crimson plants and cold striders, with one slightly larger strider sitting in the single block of lava in the middle. There was a brown sofa with red cushions in front of this window, which Helsknight slumped into once he'd locked the crimson door behind him.

"Those idiots," he sighed. "They think possessing this clone was a tactical error? I'll show them. I'll show them all."

Wels mewed, wondering what would happen next. Helsknight looked up, slightly surprised as if he'd forgotten about the lion cub, and then smiled.

"Heh, but world domination can wait. What do you want to do, kitty? Hm, I'll have to think of a name for you..."

Somehow, seeing the softer side of Helsknight in the privacy of his own dark home was even stranger than seeing it in the overworld. Wels leapt onto the chair beside the desk, peering at the papers curiously. There was a map of the Hermitcraft server, sketches of a few hermits' nether portals... Was that poetry? He put his front paws on the desk to get a closer look, but slipped and sent papers flying!

"No! Get down from there!" Helsknight shouted, rushing over to pick things up. Wels ran to the sofa, and tried to look calm as Helsknight reorganised his desk and turned around with a glare. "Paws off the desk from now on... okay?" His voice softened as he spoke. Clearly, he was unable to stay mad at a cute kitty.

Wels almost laughed, but it came out as a purr. He rolled cutely on the sofa, curling up on the cushion and watching Helsknight's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Helsknight giggled. "No, you will be in trouble if I see you on that desk again. I mean it!" His voice still had the same eerie echo to it, but Wels didn't think anyone would be too scared of him right now.

The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Wels sat up straight as Helsknight put on a serious face and opened it. It was a witch, and Wels had a sinking feeling of recognition.

"Oh, it's you," Helsknight said. "Is it done?"

"Indeed it is," she replied, smiling in Welsknight's direction. "I presume you have seen the results for yourself?"

"Not yet. Where was he?"

The small lion and the witch stared at each other for a moment.

"Somewhat near his base," she said with a smirk. "I'll take the second half of my payment now. And remember, the effects are only permanent while he stays within that world. If Welsknight somehow leaves Hermitcraft 7, he will be able to lift the curse with a single bite of any food, so don't blame me if that happens."

"How convenient," Helsknight said with suspicion. "I'm not in the mood to argue right now, so I'll pay you. But just to be clear, what is it you did to get rid of him?"

She cackled. "He has become a small, harmless beast. One whose form reflects the true nature of his spirit. His brave, adorable-"

"Whatever," he interrupted, shoving a netherite ingot at her. "Great job, go away." He slammed the door in her smiling face, and waited until he heard her walk away before relaxing.

Welsknight now knew what he needed to do to escape. All he had to wait for was the right time.

Helsknight sat back on the sofa. Wels shuffled closer to him. Helsknight half-consciously scratched behind the cub's ears. It was nice.

Welsknight wondered how his transformation back would affect Helsknight. He could see that there was something valuable here, something insecure. If he realised that his new beloved pet was really his worst enemy, sure the initial embarrassment would be funny, but he would probably also take it as a real betrayal. What new darkness would he stoop to, after such a devastation mixed with humiliation? Even if Wels didn't laugh at all, even if he immediately promised not to tell anyone, how would Helsknight's fragile ego take such compassion? All Helsknight wanted was to be feared, it seemed, but now he also wanted a cute pet. Despite all the horrors of this place, Wels would feel guilty leaving now, even if he managed to do so without his unexpected new friend finding out what he really was.

But... how long could a baby lion go without food? And what about all his plans for the rest of season 7? Surely he couldn't stay here, in the hopes of somehow redeeming his evil counterpart, right?

Some time later, Welsknight startled awake. Good thing sleeping on a sofa wasn't the same as trying to use a bed, if this place followed nether rules... Come to think of it, that was probably why this room didn't have a real bed. He looked over at the desk, where Helsknight was intently reading and writing something, muttering under his breath every now and then.

"No, stupid doesn't rhyme with useless... Ugh, I used up all my good ideas already! Can't be bothered... Gah! Why did I have to end up paired to someone afraid of being lazy? News flash, idiot, you're not! If you stop beating yourself up about that coma, maybe we could both focus!"

Welsknight blinked. So the whole "made of the things you hate about yourself" really was true, huh? Maybe this could end up sort of being a journey of self-acceptance after all... He approached Helsknight quietly, getting his attention with a soft mew.

"Oh, you're probably hungry by now... So am I," Helsknight said, biting into a golden carrot and tossing a porkchop on the ground.

Wels tried to be careful. He picked up the meat gently in his mouth, intending to carry it away before deciding what to do with it, but he couldn't help biting down just enough to qualify as starting to eat. He began to glow, and spat out the mouthful but it was too late. He ran but only reached the other end of the room before he was fully human again. Not that an actively transforming cat would have been able to open the door.

He turned and leaned awkwardly against the wall. "So... Hi?"

Helsknight stared, bewilderment frozen on his face but something dark boiling behind his eyes. "What."

"Okay so I feel like I should just say, that witch is not to blame for this, she told me nothing and it was a coincidence that I decided to follow you back here because, well..."

"Go on." Helsknight was glaring now.

"Well first of all let me make it clear, I do not think any less of you for caring about a small animal, I was just curious as to how that's even possible if you're meant to be the evil version of me? I wanted to learn more about how Hels works."

"...You were curious."

"Yep."

"Well..." Helsknight stood up, and slowly approached Wels.

Wels realised that his inventory was completely empty for some reason, and Helsknight was holding an enchanted netherite sword.

"None of your business."

A flash of fire and pain, and Welsknight respawned in his bed, back home on Hermitcraft 7, totally safe. He even somehow had his stuff back from before he'd been transformed!

But he couldn't help but wonder... Was it that there was some part of him, deep down, ashamed of liking cute things? Or was there truly more to Helsknight than he would ever let on? Only one thing was certain. Neither of them would ever bring this up again.

[amjustagirl]

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her. 

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance 

Wordcount: 7.8k 

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics. 

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!). 

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time. 

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out. 

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter. 

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball. 

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party. 

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.   

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back. 

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air. 

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory. 

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head. 

Why on earth did he agree to this again? 

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’ 

His glare softens by a fraction. 

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting. 

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here. 

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down. 

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’ 

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’ 

‘Hm.’ 

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’ 

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews)  when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey. 

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively. 

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender. 

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’ 

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’ 

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree - 

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek. 

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest. 

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness. 

Then he takes a breath. 

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end . 

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands. 

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn. 

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts. 

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders. 

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even  worse . 

Much, much worse. 

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand. 

He ends up face planting directly into her chest. 

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – , 

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.  

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt. 

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.  

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed. 

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.  

He takes her hand with a rare smile. 

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband. 

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees. 

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough. 

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product. 

He appreciates that. 

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal. 

He likes that. 

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify. 

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.  

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules. 

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer. 

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls. 

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently. 

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings. 

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.   

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together. 

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes.  He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so  I  know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’ 

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ 

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb. 

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks. 

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’  on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread  the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way. 

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod. 

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other. 

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north. 

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself. 

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant. 

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course. 

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night. 

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’ 

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands. 

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence. 

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’ 

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify. 

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’ 

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘ 

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle. 

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind. 

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’. 

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze. 

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before. 

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze. 

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant. 

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways. 

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day. 

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on. 

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially. 

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’ 

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.  

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time. 

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands. 

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.  

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss. 

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her. 

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain. 

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars. 

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’ 

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up. 

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer. 

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air. 

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands. 

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look. 

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either. 

He finds himself wondering about them. 

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text. 

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?  

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two? 

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion. 

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’. 

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.  

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him? 

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers. 

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card. 

Oikawa Tooru . 

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’ 

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further. 

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’ 

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer. 

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’   

He blinks. That was unexpected. 

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ 

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance. 

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt. 

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb. 

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’. 

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’ 

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined. 

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache. 

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’. 

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘ 

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance. 

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause. 

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.  

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her. 

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground. 

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales. 

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’. 

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.    

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because  you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him. 

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips. 

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips. 

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no  – it’s always going to point towards her. 

They move in together after that. 

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards. 

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.  

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife. 

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.  

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while. 

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep. 

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much. 

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh  - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.  

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’ 

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold. 

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning. 

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob. 

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly. 

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other. 

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell. 

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’ 

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes. 

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way. 

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back. 

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’. 

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them. 

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.  

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in - 

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their  genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place. 

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open. 

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’. 

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.  

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal. 

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat. 

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath. 

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.   

He waits. 

Then his phone buzzes. 

Ah. 

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back  home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.  

“Omi?” 

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first. 

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind. 

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.  

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what  I  want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’. 

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.  

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’ 

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles. 

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.  

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date. 

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again. 

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two. 

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.  

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more. 

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party. 

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association. 

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread. 

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name. 

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make. 

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’. 

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake. 

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out -  pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead. 

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability. 

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’ 

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.   

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud. 

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.  

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser. 

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist: 

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius​ (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)