#finally pushed through the art block from hell

[paladinbaby]

some @d20zinejam previews going into the last few days

[Image description: two close ups of digitally drawn faces. The first is of Ricky matsui from the unsleeping city. He is in a red hat and scarf and smiling. The second is a digital painting of queen caramelinda from a crown of candy. She has her eyes closed and makeup running down her cheeks but she is smiling slightly. She’s wearing a purple tiara and dark pink veil. End id.]

[cuubism]

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

[heartshapedmisery]

thinking about art x fem reader whose also a tennis player, she gets hurt playing practice against art and he feels so bad.. leading to other things to help her feel better

like best friends to lovers type thing IDK JUST A THOUGHT for a blurb

IM LOVING THIS IDEA THANK U ANON! <3 (this was meant to be shorter but i got so carried away with it lmao)

tags: heavy makeout, slight dry-humping, fingering...

No because Art truly is the competitive type, so if you were to suggest a friendly game after practice he would definitely take it way too seriously...

"What, you're giving up on me now?" he'd taunt when you were getting worn out, bent over with your hands on your knees to catch your breath. You looked up at him to see his knowing smirk, twirling the racket in his hand impatiently.

You didn't expect him to play so hard, since you thought it would just be light-hearted like you had suggested. Though that was the thing about Art; he never went easy on anybody, especially not you—his best friend.

"Nope," you said simply, brushing your fly-away hairs out of your face. "Just wondering why the hell I suggested this."

Art laughed, but didn't give you any sympathies. He waited for you to get back into position before serving to you, and you got back into the game.

It seemed to go well for a while, the bright yellow ball going back and forth between the two of you with a mix of grunts. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, which is why you didn't feel your ankle twist from underneath of you until your body fell onto the court harshly.

A confused whimper sounded from your throat as you rolled over, grasping at your ankle that was now searing with pain. A few tears welled in your eyes as your face contorted with discomfort, the sound of Art's racket smacking down against the court as he quickly jumped over the net and crouched down next to you.

"Oh my god," his eyes scanned your face, his heart sinking at the way you silently sobbed with your head lulled back on the court. He quickly examined your ankle, realizing that it was already swelling and needed to be iced.

"It's okay, it's okay," he assured you sweetly, helping you sit up before wrapping his arm around your waist. "Put your arm around my neck and we're gonna stand up, alright?"

You did as he told you, slinking it around his neck and fisting his shirt as you fought back a cry when he pulled you up, the pressure and bloodflow to your foot making the pain worse.

He tried to help you walk as best as you could, holding you upright while you put all of your weight on your left foot and hobbled with him back to his dorm since it was only a block away from the tennis courts.

When you did finally make it, he helped you over to his bed and helped you sit down gently, before going to his mini fridge and tying up an ice pack for you to put on your ankle.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he shook his head defeatedly, crouching down in front of you and carefully wrapping the bag around your ankle. The new sensation made your breath hitch, before the pain slowly started to subside.

"No its okay, it was an accident. It's no one's fault," you told him honestly, your mind slightly fogged at the feeling of his hand cupping the back of your calf as he held your foot up. He mindlessly rubbed your soft skin, unaware of the affect it had on you as his mind spiraled.

"No, but I pushed you too hard," he explained, his voice low. "It's my fault."

You shook your head, before taking his face in your hands. You cupped his jaw softly, your forgiving eyes holding his gaze.

"No it's not, stopping beating yourself up about it."

"I know, I just-"

You abruptly cut him off by bringing your lips to his, the apology falling dead in his mouth. You caught him completely off guard, but he still melted into the kiss, allowing his hands to run up the sides of your thighs.

"Now will you stop?" you whispered once you finally pulled away, running your fingers subconsciously through his blonde locks of hair.

He nodded, before pulling you back in for another kiss. He took it upon himself to lay you down against his bed, slotting himself in between your slightly spread legs.

You didn't know why, but this felt so easy. It didn't feel weird or awkward, given that he had been your best friend since high school. If anything, it made perfect sense.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, cradling your head with his free hand while the other ran up your side. You nodded eagerly, giving him the green light to bring his lips back to yours.

Your heartbeat picked up as you felt him harden beneath his shorts against your thigh the more intense the kiss became, his hips slowly beginning to move in seek of friction.

You slipped you tongue into his mouth, earning a moan from him as his hand wandered down your body before grasping your waist and thumbing your hip. Your non-injured leg wrapped around his waist in attempt to bring him closer with a moan, completely enthralled with the feeling of him.

Suddenly, your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your skirt, dipping into your panties. You let out a shaky moan as Art sunk his middle and ring finger into your soaked cunt, curling them upwards gently as he continued kissing down your jaw and the soft skin of your neck.

It drove him wild how wet you already were for him, the muffled squelching sound of his fingers moving in and out of you making his dick harder.

It didn't take long for him to have your thighs shaking around his hips and your toes curling in your tennis shoes, disgruntled moans mixing with his soft grunts.

You would've never guessed you'd be sprawled out on your best friend's bed coming down from the orgasm he had just given you, but you definitely weren't complaining.

[heich0e]

splintered - drummer!osamu miya/f!reader (haikyuu!) tags: band!au, pining, angst, high school friends to ?, unspoken feelings, mentioned semi eita/reader and osamu/groupies, here is some lovely drummer!osamu art by @/tnkisu if u want to pine for him like i am! word count 1.6k

Osamu replaces his drumsticks, on average, about once a month. 

It's less frequent now than it once was, thanks largely to the fact that he started buying better quality sticks since the band has been gigging regularly and he can afford it, coupled with the fact that he'd gotten old enough to outgrow that adolescent ignorance of his own strength or frenetic enthusiasm while he’s playing. Still, every time he breaks a stick, he hears his mother's voice in the back of his mind, furious that for the second time in as many weeks he was begging her for more pocket money so he could replace them. 

(She would always buy him new ones, anyway.)

Osamu has broken three sticks this week.

He tries to pretend that he doesn't know why. Tries to pretend it's no big deal when yet another stick splinters in his hands on a particularly violent rap against his snare. Tries to pretend he doesn't see you in the bright red of the first aid kit each time he has to bandage up his bloody fingers—the first aid kit you'd bought him to keep in the studio space that the band rents in a block of office buildings, for when he injures himself by practicing too much.

But there's something more pressing he's pretending not to notice now. Something more real and tangible looming over him. 

Literally. 

Because you're standing next to his drum kit with your arms crossed and a scowl on your face, and he's beating away at the drum kit and acting like it's totally normal that he hasn't so much as acknowledged you since you came in unannounced.

Finally, like the three sets of sticks Osamu’s thrown away this week, you snap.

Your hand shoots out and Osamu panics, aborting whatever motion he was in the process of following through and flinching away from you. 

“What the hell are you doing!” he exclaims angrily, drumbeat silenced, as your hand wraps around the stick in his right hand and you wrench it out of his grip. “I could’ve fuckin’ hurt ya!” 

“Oh,” you say, chucking the drumstick across the cramped little studio, your expression twisted into something a little meaner to match his own, “how nice of you to finally notice me.”

“I’m practicin’,” Osamu grunts, pushing himself up from his seat behind his drum kit, “or I was before ya interrupted me.” 

“I need to talk to you.”

Osamu pauses as he moves to cross the room towards where you tossed his stick, his broad back facing you.

“I’m busy.”

You make a strangled noise of frustration.

“Well then make time for me, Samu,” you snap. “You’ve been ignoring me for days!”

Osamu crouches down and starts searching for the wayward drumstick among some sound equipment stacked up in the corner, tucking the one you hadn’t pried from his hold into the back pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t reply to your demand. Doesn’t even acknowledge it.

“Why would you try and ban me from your gigs?” you ask—and he’s sure you mean to sound furious. Osamu’s known you so long that your intent is as clear to read as your words. But your tone breaks just before the anger can rip through it, a lilt of disappointment—of hurt—wavering in the question. 

Osamu is sweaty from the hours he’s been banging away at his drum kit, but suddenly the perspiration on his skin feels cold. Still crouching down, he grabs the hem of his t-shirt in his hands and lifts it to wipe at his face. 

“‘Cause.”

It’s not a justification in the slightest. It’s barely even a fucking word. But somehow it’s all that he can muster in reply. 

“‘Cause?” you echo incredulously. “What kinda bullshit is that? I had to find out about this ‘ban’ from fucking Suna, of all people—Suna, Osamu!—because Tsumu refuses to get involved in our shit, and I’ve gotten radio silence from you all week. So, mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

Again, Osamu opts for silence in response, shifting a busted amp when he spots the tail end of the stick you’d sent flying peeking out from under it. 

“Samu, would you please just talk to me?” you plead, all the strength bleeding from your tone.

He uses the tips of his fingers to fish the end of the drumstick out, and once he has it in his grip he twirls it around his fingers instinctively before clutching it in a white-knuckled fist. It’s painfully quiet in the soundproof studio, the foam sound insulation on the walls almost makes the stillness more stifling.

“What was up with you and that Semi guy last weekend?”

You're quiet.

“Are you serious, Osamu?—”

That same fight, all bitter resentment and defensive hostility, has made itself known again in your voice. 

“—You banned me from your gigs because I hooked up with some guy?” 

“So you two hooked up, huh?” Osamu’s tone is dry as he muses out the rhetorical question. 

“God!” There’s shuffling behind him that he doesn’t turn to see, but it sounds like you’ve knocked something over. Maybe the first aid kit. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” 

Osamu finally risks a guarded glance back over his shoulder towards you.

You’ve dropped your bag on the ground at your feet, your hands tangled in your hair in frustration.

“You know Eita. You’re friends.”

Osamu sniffs. “Don’t really know him. Just run in the same circle ’sall. He’s a city boy.”

“You’re being unfair,” you say to him, your eyes whet with fury. Your hands fall to your sides and clench into fists. “You hook up with little groupies at your shows all the time. I meet one guy and all the sudden-“

“It’s distractin’,” Osamu says, rising back up to his full height to face you head on. “I don’t wanna spend the entire gig worryin’ about what scumbag yer cozied up to.”

“I’m not your responsibility to worry about!”

Osamu feels something sharp and blisteringly sour pang in his stomach. 

“I can’t just not worry about ya,” Osamu snaps, frustration sharpening his words into a blade that he never meant to turn on you, but that he fears he’s lost control of.

“I never asked you to do that,” you reply—lips, shoulders, hands all quivering. You’re trembling as you stand before him. Furious and bewildered. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not babysittin’ ya,” he replies tersely, knowing that nothing he’s said is what he means. Nothing has gone according to the plan he didn’t even have to begin with. “And I know ya didn’t ask, but I can’t help it; I’ve been worryin’ about ya since we were teenagers. Practically kids. And most of the guys hangin’ around those gigs are slimy fucks. Dirtbags. Worse than that, even.”

Your upset is plain on your face, and all Osamu wants is to touch you. To fix the pain he’s caused. But his anger won’t allow it. His ego. He’s too proud and too deep in his own delusions to admit to the real reason why seeing you and Semi Eita cozied up near the bar while his band was playing on stage last weekend made him feel something close to feral—the thrum of vicious adrenaline in his veins had nothing to do with the performance he was in the middle of. 

“You’re a liar.”

Osamu freezes. You’ve said the words so quietly and yet they still somehow shake him to his core.

He wants to say something, ask you what you mean, but the sight of tears pooling in the corner of your narrowed eyes stops him. Immobilizes him. Disarms him completely. 

The drumstick in his fist slips to the floor, clattering at his feet. 

“Hey-“ Osamu panics, taking a step towards you with his hand outstretched. You flinch away from his touch, and the movement pierces his chest.

You laugh, watery and mirthless, and fix Osamu in the coldest glare he thinks you’ve ever turned on him.

He knows he fucked up.

God, he fucked up.

Really bad this time.

You stoop down and grab your bag off the floor brusquely, yanking it up over your shoulder again. You whisk past him towards the door, tilting your body away from his so you don’t have to brush him as you pass, but he still feels your warmth fleetingly.

Osamu smells your perfume as you go. The same one you’ve been wearing since he met you in high school. The same one that clings to his jackets after you borrow them because no matter how many times he tells you, you never bring your own. The same one he’ll turn his head towards when he catches a whiff of it in public, but it never seems to smell quite as good on anyone else as it does on you.

His chest aches. 

You stop at the door, your back to him—shoulders rigid like you have your hackles raised.

Your voice is flat when you speak, but you don’t turn to face him.

“Just because Semi wasn’t too fucking afraid to make a move doesn’t mean you get to take it out on him. Or me.”

Your words ring in Osamu’s ears like a crash cymbal, his heart plummeting in his chest.

The door slams behind you on your way out.

[ensemblesmile]

rockstar in love

tags: best friends dad, age gap (reader in their 20s, semi in his 30s), fingering, hickeys, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, infidelity, (and probably more that i can’t currently think of).

warnings: minor and ageless blogs DNI!! i will block any that do interact without ages in their bios or pinned.

word count: 10.6k

summary; famous rockstar semi eita is thought to be in a happy marriage with two amazing kids, however his life isn’t quite so picture book perfect as his fans might think. or, at least it wasn’t. but the moment he met you, he dreams of the actual picture book life he could have with you that finally comes true during your final summer break of college.

a/n: it's finally posted! it feels like ages since i posted this thirst of a rockstar!dilf!semi eita. it is definitely different from that post, however the dilf rockstar semi is still the same, and that he is also readers best friends dad. also, this was my first time ever writing smut so i would like to apologize if that part of the fic is not written well... also also, i may or may not write a second part depending on if this is well received or not as well as if i get any ideas... anyways, i hope you enjoy!

semi eita, lead bassist and composer for the infinity order, had prided himself on the fact he had the most perfect family anyone could ever dream of. the perfect wife, an amazing son, and a beautiful daughter. or at least, that's the façade he's kept up for years because his manager didn't want him to ruin his image or his bands.

however, behind closed doors, his family isn't all that it's cracked up to be. his son hasn't willingly talked to him in years, his wife cares more about money and status than being a good wife, a good lover. the only thing good in his life is his daughter, the only one who's been by his side through everything.

when his daughter had gone off to an arts school in the states, he'd thrown himself into his work, hoping to distract himself from having to see his wife or son the few times a day they would come home. due to his newfound dedication with his work, his band mates had started to worry about their lead bassist and composer. they hoped he wasn't pushing himself too much, but they couldn't lie and say they didn't find his dedication to his work admirable. and because of this need to stay away from home, the band had been able to crank out single after single, eventually being able to turn out a few new albums before the year was up and gaining more and more attention from new fans, both nationally and internationally. and due to this newfound popularity, semi and his band mates had been able to quit their day jobs in order to focus solely on their band.

once semi quit his day job, he'd moved out of the penthouse suite he shared with his wife and son, buying himself his own house and a huge property, thankfully being able to afford it due to his bands rise in popularity.

the few times his daughter had come back to japan for breaks, she'd brought various friends with her, though only one seemed to always be by her side. that friend was you, a sassy dancer semi had started to get to know as incredibly strong willed, stubborn as all hell, and, at least in semi's eyes, sexy as fuck and intriguing as hell. whenever you were visiting with his daughter, he would always find himself secretly searching for or staring at you, sometimes feeling an erection start to grow if you happened to be trying out a new dance routine when you thought only his daughter, semi aiko, was looking. he'd always curse himself when he found himself growing hard to his daughters best friend, hating that you, someone almost half his age, had such an effect on him. he couldn't help that he once recorded a new dance you had been showing aiko, jacking off to the you in the video who's hips swayed tantalizingly and the look on your face which was pure sin in semi's eyes.

you, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to his growing attraction towards you. when you'd first met him, he'd been nothing more than your best friends father, the one person in aiko's family that she even still talked to. but as you started to get to know him during your visits to japan, you'd slowly started to find him attractive the more you got to know him. you, however, would always shake off your attraction towards him, cursing yourself for starting to feel something for your best friends father. honestly though, you couldn't keep shaking off your growing attraction towards the mysterious, tall, dark, and handsome male that always welcomed you into his home with open arms. you would have to face your feelings eventually.

so one spring break, when you returned to japan with aiko, your attraction for him (and he for you) started to bubble over, resulting in "coincidental" run ins, lingering looks shared over meals or conversations, brief touches as you passed each other in the halls, or random excuses to touch each other in...less than appropriate ways.

you had also found yourself dressing differently. not in a way that would show more skin, but in a way that showed off your curves without revealing skin. you were confident in your body up to a point, but once clothes started coming off, your comfort levels started to decrease. that was why you'd stuck with clothes that accentuated your curves. and boy did semi notice these changes, finding that he seemed to be getting harder a lot more frequently, finding more chances for lingering touches or chances to talk with you more just so he could stare at you in the guise of being a good listener.

these actions, however, did not go unnoticed by aiko, the one person who knew semi the best. the mutual yet hidden feelings had become clear to her one day during her second year of college when she and you had been visiting japan for a short visit during spring break. at first, aiko was a bit weirded out by this development when she'd first found out, however she had slowly started to accept it — and even silently support it — the more she realized her father had been happier than he had been in a while. if you, her best friend, were able to make her father genuinely smile — a feat he'd only been known to do when onstage nowadays — then of course she would support a relationship between her best friend and her father. how couldn't she? if you genuinely made her dad happy, she would help your relationship blossom.

so, after months of secretly planning, she invited you to visit her father in japan with her during summer break where she would finally put her plan into action. well, she would start working on her plan before summer break by getting you more comfortable with wearing clothes you were usually less than comfortable wearing. and one day, after you had agreed to visit japan with her for the third summer in a row, she had suddenly brought up you and her father which had caused you to blush bright red and stutter hurriedly to change the subject. however, with that reaction, aiko's suspicions had finally been confirmed — at least on your end. she would still need to confirm things concerning her father, but that could wait. right then, she had to grill you about those feelings you were feeling towards her dad.

"so, y/n, now that you've agreed to visit japan with me for summer break, is it because you know my dad will be back from tour?" aiko had suddenly asked one day during a sacred girls day you and aiko usually did after a rather stressful week of classes.

"wh- what are you talking about, aiko? of course that's not the reason," you'd quickly rejected, face heating up into a deep red blush, quickly turning away from her so she couldn't see the blush coating your cheeks.

"i knew it!" aiko cheered upon seeing your reaction, hands thrown into the air in triumph.

"shut up, i have no idea what you mean," you muttered, shaking your head at your best friend in embarrassment.

"oh, i'm not mad," aiko assured, reaching out to give your arm a squeeze of reassurance. "yeah, when i first found out i was a bit confused and concerned, but the happier i saw my dad get, the more i found i was okay with it. sure, you're my best friend, and sure, it would be weird to start thinking of you as my stepmom, but so long as my dad is happy and finally out of that toxic relationship, the better off he'll be. and i just know he'll be better off with you in the picture."

"wait, so you're actually supporting this?" you had questioned, dumbfounded at the way aiko seemed completely okay with whatever might happen. "and don't get ahead of yourself. i don't even know if eita-san likes me in that way."

"so long as you make my dad happy, then yeah, i'll support you," aiko nodded, sending you a smile so big and contagious, you felt your own smile grow in response. however, you felt it slip away the moment aiko had given you a serious look. "but i swear, if you end up hurting my dad, i will make your life miserable. and don't be ridiculous, if he didn't also like you in that way, do you think i would even be bringing this up?"

"of course, ma'am, i would never dream of hurting eita-san," you responded seriously, earning a quick attitude change from aiko in the process. this had you raising a silent eyebrow in concern, musing silently to yourself about how the semi family — at least the two you knew — were very strange people. but you knew for a fact that if given the chance, you would never choose to not meet your best friend, the first true friend you had ever known — your own siblings excluded.

and so, the rest of that girls day was spent discussing aiko's surefire plan to get you and her father together.

step one: get you more comfortable with wearing more revealing clothes so that by summer, you could confidently strut around in clothes aiko knew would drive her father mad. step two: get you both chances for those lingering touches to get bolder, more insistent. in aiko's words, "build up that sexual tension." step three: set up the perfect occasion for you and him to be alone, setting the most perfect atmosphere for all that built up sexual tension. in aiko's words, "that built up sexual tension needs to snap at some point, why not make it while i'll be out of the house so you have the whole place to yourselves? besides, i don't want to hear any of it."

after giving you the plan, you and her worked continuously on it to refine and rework the plan before heading to japan for summer break, where you would start to enact said plan into your daily life.

it started the moment you arrived in japan, wearing a much too revealing outfit in public for semi's liking. you wore black combat boots, black fishnets, short jean shorts, a black crop top decorated by a silver sun design that happened to reveal your stomach if you were to move or stretch a certain way, and a red flannel that hung low over your backside so that from the back angle, it looked like you weren't wearing any pants. never in a million years would he have guessed it was you walking beside his daughter as you both made your way to the baggage claim, talking excitedly to each other with bags slung haphazardly over your shoulders.

as he stood in the airport, he realized that he must've been standing out too much because he found himself surrounded by a sea of fans, all bombarding him with questions and requests, though he hardly seemed to notice them as he barely took his eyes off you and your — in his eyes — very appealing yet revealing attire.

"sorry, my daughter and her friend are here, thank you for supporting my band and i," semi quickly spoke up, pushing through the crowd to get to you and aiko's side.

"hi, dad!" aiko smiled, giving her father a bright smile and big hug, happy to see her father after the semester apart. "you didn't have to pick us up, we could've called an uver," aiko added, glancing towards the large group of people who all seemed to be staring at them.

"nonsense, i wanted to greet my daughter the moment she came back to japan, just like i always have," semi responded, ruffling the younger semi's hair in amusement.

"hey, not the hair," aiko protested, sending her dad a glare as she fixed her hair.

"thank you for having me again this summer, eita-san," you finally spoke, having been silent the entire exchange, but now finally finding the perfect opportunity to speak up — though it may have had more to do with aiko giving you a sharp elbow to the side.

"of course, y/n, thank you for continuing to watch over my daughter in the states," semi responded, giving you a warm smile.

"of course, i'd never leave aiko, she'd be in trouble if it weren't for me," you spoke teasingly, eyes twinkling in amusement as you smirked at your best friend due to the look she had shot you.

"shut up, y/n, like you're one to talk," aiko responded, elbowing your side, causing you to double over in mock pain.

"ouch, i'm wounded, aiko," you responded, placing one hand above your heart while the other went to rub your side as if to soothe a sharp pain.

"payback's a bitch, isn't it," aiko teased, a twinkle of amusement in her eye that semi had grown used to whenever you and her were together.

semi simply watched your and aiko's exchange, used to the dynamic you shared due to your closeness. it was something semi had no idea he was missing until it suddenly came back into his life. he was so lost in thought thinking about how much he had missed his daughter, and especially you, that he hadn't realized that aiko was heading towards the carousel to collect your and her luggage until you were pulling gently at his arm in order to move off to the side so you weren't taking up so much space. with a muttered apology for getting lost in thought, he quickly followed you, watching from the corner of his eye as you tapped away furiously on your phone. he had an urge to see what you were doing, but he knew he needed to respect your privacy, so he refrained, deciding to simply watch in amusement as you reacted to what was on your phone with minute facial details. a crinkle in your brow to show confusion, a light blush to show embarrassment, a huff and pursed lips to show annoyance, a smirk to show smugness. semi should probably feel worried that he could pick up on so much when it came to you, but he just couldn't find it in himself to actually feel that way. after all, you were a puzzle he just wanted to solve — or was there more to it?

"—ther, father you there?" aiko questioned, waving a hand in front of semi's face to try and catch his attention. "i got our luggage if you want to get out of here." aiko explained, gesturing down to the two bags that now sat at their feet. "and also, to get away from...this," she added, glancing behind her to gesture to the sea of people still trying to get a good look at half of the semi family.

"ahh yes, sorry," semi apologized, glancing from his daughter to the crowd gathering behind her then back to his daughter before sending her an apologetic smile and then taking both bags for the girls and leading the way to his car so they could leave. he could hear you and aiko whispering together behind his back, however it was too soft so he wasn't able to pick up on just what you might be whispering.

"you take the front seat, talk to him," aiko was whispering, urging you to make a move, even if it was just a small one.

"you'll be in the backseat though, so won't that be a bit awkward," you whispered back, glancing nervously in front of you to semi's back.

"as if, i'll have my headphones in and i am a bit jet lagged, i'll probably take a nap on the drive there," aiko responded, rolling her eyes at your nervous attitude in amusement.

"but-" you tried again, only to earn a sharp glare from aiko to stop you from continuing.

"look, think of it this way, this is step one of our plan to get rid of the sexual tension between you and my father," aiko hissed, shoving you towards the front seat upon the arrival to semi's vehicle.

having finished putting your bags into the back of the vehicle, semi had watched the particularly insistent shove from aiko with a raised eyebrow, a small smirk taking over his features as he notices the subtle glare you had sent aiko before opening the front passenger door and taking a seat in the passenger side of the car.

aiko simply rolled her eyes at you in reply as she got into the back seat, instantly pulling out her headphones and blasting her music, loud enough you could just barely hear it in the front of the car. reaching a hand behind you, you swatted at air, hoping to give your best friend a smack for being so obvious. aiko simply watched a you flailed around in amusement, making sure to keep to herself until semi got into the car, stopping your vain struggle in finding aiko in the back seat. she noticed semi's mouth moving, meaning he was probably talking to you though she couldn't hear anything over her music, not that she wanted to hear anything you or he would be saying. with that thought firmly in her mind, aiko stared out the window, letting her mind wander as she watched the scenery pass by, eventually letting jet lag catch up to her and resting her eyes.

you were in a similar position as aiko, though you tried to push through it in order to continue the conversation you'd been having with the rockstar. it was mainly about his career and your semester since you'd last seen him. small talk that slowly petered out as you, too, felt the affects of jet lag starting to catch up with you.

noticing the newfound silence, semi glanced at you from the corner of his eye, realizing you must've been tired though you looked like you wanted to fight it. with a small smile on his face, he reached over, placing a large, calloused hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, urging you to go to sleep and that he would wake you when they arrived at his home. you sighed softly and nodded your head, resting it against the glass as you let your mind wander. absentmindedly, mind muddled with sleep, you had reached down towards his hand to gently start playing with his fingers as you felt yourself slowly fall asleep.

semi couldn't help the surprise that took over his face for a second before a soft smile made its way onto his face, stilling your fingers to gently turn over his hand and simply hold your hand, fingers interlaced as you slept. fleeting moments like these are what semi wished for, to bask in your warmth and acceptance of who he was and what he stood for. because that's what you did, accepted him for who he was the moment you'd met him.

semi silently lamented the fact you were his daughters age, because if you had been older, he would've instantly called for a divorce with his wife and had pursued you. no one besides aiko had ever accepted him for who he was, they were always too enamored with the fact he was a rockstar, too interested in his money or using him in order to get at his bandmates. they never seemed to see him as the man he was, but rather the man the media portrayed him as. but you were different, you had made an effort to get to know him, to understand the real him, who he was behind his rockstar persona.

upon arriving to the house, semi gently pulled your hand up to his lips where he pressed a gentle kiss against the back of your hand before he gently placed it back on your thigh and let go of your hand. you had made a sound of protest as he let go of your hand, though he couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not, so he simply leaned over, pressed a kiss to your temple, and then, in a whisper, promised he'd be back for you. then he got out of the car, grabbing both your and aiko's luggage, and bringing them inside and up to your designated rooms. then he came back for aiko, gently lifting her bridal style and bringing her to her own room and placing her on the bed. he knew he wouldn't be able to wake aiko so he decided he wouldn't bother. then he went back to the car in order to wake you up, though when he opened the passenger side door, he instantly found he didn't have the heart to. you just looked so peaceful, a calm look on your face instead of the worry that usually marred your beautiful features. sighing softly, he carefully unbuckled you and then picked you up bridal style, stiffening for a second when he felt you cuddle closer to him before heading towards your bedroom in the house. when he reached your room, he had carefully placed you down and then tucked you in, smiling to himself because you just looked so at ease while you slept.

as semi was turning to go, he froze as he felt a tug on his arm, causing him to slowly turn around to face you. "please stay," you murmured half asleep. semi silently cursed at the invitation, inwardly debating with himself on whether or not he should actually stay. he couldn't lie to himself, the thought of holding you while you slept did sound tempting, however he wasn't sure you knew entirely what you were saying as you lay there, half asleep, trying to get him to stay there with you.

sighing, he knelt down on the ground. "i want to, beautiful, but i don't want you to think i'm taking advantage of you or anything," he explained softly, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip as he spoke.

"i don't care about that, i just want someone to hold me," you responded, leaning into his touch subconsciously. "please, eita-san, hold me, that's all i'm asking." honestly, you weren't above begging at this point, you just felt so touch deprived since your breakup that you didn't care who it was so long as they held you close. semi seemed to be debating with himself why he should and shouldn't give in, though he ultimately gave in to the desire to hold you close like he had when carrying you up to the room.

sighing, semi slipped off his shoes before lifting the blankets, urging you to scoot back as he climbed into the bed beside you and then enveloped you in his arms, smiling softly to himself the moment you shifted closer and buried your face in his chest. oh if only he could stay like that with you forever. finally holding you in his arms, softly tracing random patterns onto your back, semi felt at home, more at home than he'd ever felt when holding anyone — besides maybe aiko, though it definitely was in a different way from how he felt when he held you. you hummed softly, a content sound to semi's ears, as you slowly drifted off to sleep, your breathes evening out and lulling him to sleep as well. it didn't take long for him to fall asleep despite him trying to fight it.

it had been a few hours since you had arrived at semi's home when aiko woke up, slowly at first until she felt her stomach growl. after that sound, she quickly got up, dressed, and headed to your room to check if you wanted anything specific, though she froze in her steps upon opening the door, spotting her father cradling you against him as you both slept. a small smile took over her face as she whipped out her phone to snap a picture, forgetting that her sound was on and cringing when the shutter sound went off. despite the loud click her phone had made, she had managed to capture a sweet moment between them, smiling to herself as she closed the door and went towards the kitchen to make some food for herself, staring at the picture with a soft smile on her face.

in it, semi's back was facing the camera, his lower half covered by blankets. he had his arms wrapped around your midsection, with his chen resting softly above your head. she had managed to capture the picture at an angle, so she was able to just barely make out your face buried in semi's chest, a soft smile on your lips as if you were subconsciously reveling in the warmth semi provided as he snoozed right next to you.

"is that the picture you took of us?" a voice spoke up behind aiko, causing the young semi to jump in surprise and turn to face her dad who wore an apologetic smile at having scared his daughter.

"geez, dad, a little warning next time? i thought you were still asleep," aiko muttered, clutching a hand over her heart as she felt it racing beneath her hand.

"sorry, i thought you would've realized i woke up," semi grimaced, glancing away in embarrassment from his daughter. "but you have to admit, that click wasn't exactly subtle, im a bit surprised y/n's still asleep."

"oh please," aiko snorted, clicking her phone off and sliding it into her back pocket. "that girl can sleep through anything. it's a pain trying to wake her up in the mornings so she isn't late for classes."

semi hummed thoughtfully at this new information, enjoying the fact he was learning more about you, even if it was from his daughter and not directly from you. as he absorbed this new information about you, he made his way into the kitchen, grabbing pots, pans, dishes, anything he felt he would need when making dinner, aiko taking a seat at the island which sat in the center of the rather large kitchen. no words were spoken between the father daughter pair as the elder semi made dinner and the younger semi prepared a side dish, the pair working well together despite neither knowing what exactly the other was making.

when the meal was finally finished, neither semi had the heart to wake you just yet so they made sure to keep whatever needed to stay warm was nice and toasty in the oven while they cleaned up and set the table in the dining room that semi only ever used whenever the pair were there or he had guests over. the silence was broken by aiko who had been trying to come up with a subtle yet serious way to bring up the potential relationship between two of the three people who mattered most to her.

"so, you and y/n?" she had questioned, earning a raised eyebrow from semi as if asking what she meant by that. "like, what's going on? do you like her or..."

"why are you asking, aiko?" was semi's response as he continued to set the table, making sure not even the napkins were out of place.

"oh, you know," aiko responded, a teasing glint in her eye as she unlocked her phone and tapped on the screen a few times before sliding the phone towards the rockstar, a smirk on her face as she watched a light blush coat semi's cheeks as he glanced at the phone and then looked away. "i totally encourage whatever it is you might want to pursue with my best friend. just, yknow, don't do anything gross around me, that crosses the line."

"pursue?" semi questioned, eyebrow raised at aiko as if questioning why she was bringing up something like that now of all times.

"yeah, i saw the way you were holding her, and when you picked us up from the airport, don't think i didn't notice the look you were giving her," aiko responded, a smirk now permanently on her face as the elder semi just continued to prove her point. "look, i was a bit weirded out at first when i found out about your...mutual interest in each other. however, as i watched your interactions from afar, i realized that y/n makes you happy, more happy than i've ever seen you with...her. if she makes you happy, i won't complain. but if you hurt my best friend..."

"yeah, i guess you're right," semi mused, thinking back to the time when they'd first met and the many other interactions since. okay, so maybe she was definitely right. "look, i won't hurt y/n, i could never hurt her. and i promise not to show too much affection with her in front of you. however, i don't...does she really like me like that?"

"seriously?" aiko questioned, an unimpressed eyebrow raised. semi gave her a somewhat sheepish look as aiko sighed and muttered something unintelligible under her breath. "geez, it's like you're a lovesick teenager, dad. i'm not having this conversation with you. no, no way."

"alright, i get it, i'll figure things out on my own," semi sighed before turning towards the archway and leaving the room.

"where you going?" aiko called after his retreating form.

"to wake up y/n so we can eat," semi responded, striding towards the stairs and to your room. pushing open the door, what semi wasn't expecting to find was you curled into a ball, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, eyes squeezed shut as if you were in pain. "hey y/n-hey y/n are you okay?" he questioned, dropping to his knees in front of you in order to be level with you. he had never seen you like this, though, so admittedly he didn't exactly know what to do in this sort of situation. he shot a quick text to aiko who suddenly appeared in the room, shoving her dad aside so she could be at eye level with you if you were to open your eyes.

"hey, y/n, open your eyes for me and breathe," aiko spoke, her tone gentle yet demanding as she spoke to her friend. y/n cracked an eye open slowly, one after another, staring into a familiar pair of hazel eyes. "good, now breathe in slowly through your nose, and then slowly out through your mouth." when aiko instructed you to breathe, you followed what she said, over and over again as you slowly felt the pounding of your heart decrease. the three of you sat in your room for a good half hour as you slowly calmed down and regained your bearings, neither semi willing to leave your side until you were calm enough to move.

when that happened, you slowly pulled yourself from your ball and gently sat at the edge of the bed, smiling softly in thanks at aiko for helping you get through yet another of your panic attacks, before your gaze averted to semi, eyes widening at the pure, unadulterated worry and relief swimming in his eyes as he gazed at you, hands going up to reach up to cup your face as he stared into your eyes, searching them for anything that might give him a hint as to what had just happened. he hardly acknowledged when aiko spoke up, saying she would be getting their dinner on the table, instead keeping his full focus on the woman who was slowly starting to steal his heart for herself.

"ei- eita-san, i'm okay, really," you murmured, a sigh escaping your lips as you leaned into his touch, hands moving up to cover his own resting on your cheeks.

"you really worried me there, beautiful," semi breathed, thumb absently running over your cheek and causing you to sigh into the touch.

"i'm sorry, i think it was just the unfamiliar environment that caused the panic attack, or it could've been my dream...though i don't really remember what it was about," you murmured in response, closing your eyes as you tried to remember just what your dream had been about.

"don't worry about the cause, i'm sorry i wasn't able to help you with it, i felt pretty useless just sitting there staring at you," semi apologized softly, taking his hands from your face and instead holding them out for you to grab, pulling you up so you were almost flush against him. honestly, what he really wanted to do was lay back down with you wrapped securely in his arms, however he knew you needed to eat something and aiko was probably waiting for them so he instead settled for wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i'm sorry for worrying you, eita-san, thank you for staying though," you murmured, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning a cheek against his chest.

"shhh, it's okay, beautiful," semi responded. "now let's go eat dinner, i'm sure aiko's getting impatient."

"mmh, she does this to me all the time with her boyfriend, she'll survive," you hummed despite pulling away from semi and heading for the door, pausing when you felt a tug on your hand to turn back to him.

"stay with me tonight," semi murmured, interlacing your fingers together.

"feeling lonely?" you teased, eyes twinkling in amusement as a myriad of emotions seemed to pass over his eyes before landing on adoration.

"i just want to be there for you if something like that happens again in the middle of the night," semi responded, pulling you along with him as he led the way through the large house to the dining room where aiko was no doubt waiting for them. your brain seemed to have stalled at the new information which had caused semi to lead the way, making sure you were following behind despite your still clasped hands.

"ugh, dad, what did you do to my best friend?" aiko muttered, catching the almost vacant look in your eyes as you took the seat across from her, semi to your right at the head of the table.

"i don't think i did anything, she was fine until we left her room," semi responded, glancing worriedly at you as you absently started scooping food onto your plate.

the three of you fell into silence, both semi's casting worried glances over to you every so often. it wasn't until after dinner when you had offered to do the dishes that both semi's seemed to breathe sighs of relief that you were fine. aiko blamed it on the fact you still seemed tired, and the way you woke up hadn't been the best way, either, wracked with panic.

"yeah, okay, you do the dishes then, i'll set up a movie or something in the theatre to watch before we go to sleep for the night," aiko nodded, heading for the archway after having cleaned up her side of the table, handing the dishes off to semi as she left.

then, with hands full of dirty dishes, semi followed you into the kitchen and over to the sink where he set them down and then headed back out for the leftovers, transferring them to tupperware and placing them into the fridge.

the two of you worked in silence, with you washing the dishes and semi drying them after you had finished washing them. it felt so domestic to you, almost feeling like something you could get used to if it was with semi. the dishes were done faster than you would've liked, wanting to spend even just a little more time with semi before joining aiko in the home theatre room semi had redecorated part of the basement into.

it seemed semi had the same thought, wanting to spend even just a little more time with you before joining aiko for a movie night. after you had dried your hands with a towel semi hadn't used to dry dishes, semi had caged you in between himself and the island, hands resting on the island countertop to keep you trapped there. your usually soft e/c eyes went wide with surprise as you glanced from his arms to the smirk he wore. his hands slowly travelled from the island to your hips, lifting you up onto the island and setting you down on it so that you were almost eye level with him, though he was still taller than your seated form.

"eita-san, what are you doing?" you asked breathlessly, eyes never leaving his gaze.

"i was planning on finally kissing you if that was alright," semi responded softly, hands trailing from your hips to your thighs, spreading them apart so he could stand between your legs so he could be even that much closer to you.

"oh please," you murmured, wrapping arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, your bodies almost flush with each other as you got your first taste of each other. you smiled into the kiss as semi groaned, loving the way you felt against him. his lips parted and his tongue shot out, licking at your bottom lip as if demanding entrance. you responded in kind, parting your own lips to allow him entrance, tilting your head slightly to allow for better access, hands going from around his neck and into his hair to brush through his hair. when he slipped in his tongue, it met your own, at first fighting for dominance before he won, almost finding himself moaning at the taste of you and feeling himself go hard to the taste of you.

"ugh, please stop biting each others faces off," aiko muttered from the entrance of the kitchen before she entered and went about making popcorn.

semi silently cursed aiko for interrupting, pulling away from you who quickly buried your face in semi's neck to hide your blush from your best friend.

"i'm happy for you guys, truly, i am," aiko continued as the machine started the process of popping popcorn. "however, if i have to see anymore of that, i will cut you. i do not want to see my dad going at it with my best friend, that's a picture my mind would much rather live without."

"shut up, ai, it's not like i wanted to see you and your boyfriend going at it either, and yet here we are," you spoke up lightly, still blushing like crazy though your face was no longer hidden in semi's neck.

"shut up, that was completely different and you know it," aiko sniffed, turning her nose up and away from you in mock defiance.

"really? because at the time, your boyfriend happened to be my older brother," you responded, earning a sheepish look from aiko in response.

semi, who was simply content holding you close after you had pulled away from the kiss due to aiko's interruption, raised an eyebrow at the conversation between the best friends. "oh? you dated y/n's brother?" semi interrupted their conversation, earning a small nod from y/n in response while aiko sighed.

"yeah, they ended on good terms though," you murmured, smiling softly over semi's shoulder at aiko who couldn't help the slight frown on her face.

"they may have been good terms, but you never really forget your first relationship," aiko sighed, cupping her face in her hands as she thought back on her relationship with sora.

"if only you could," semi muttered darkly, though he had to admit that two good things came out of that relationship, and they were both currently in the kitchen with him. if he had never been with that woman in any way, he never would've had aiko, and if he never had aiko, he never would've met you. so one good thing that led to another good thing had happened between him and that woman — semi refused to think of her as anything else now that he was finally able to hold you in his arms.

"hey, stay with me, don't think back to then," you murmured, moving a hand up to his forehead to rub at the worry lines that started to mar his features. "be with me, in the moment, not then with her."

"you're right," semi murmured, moving his head to your neck to give you some featherlight kisses there.

"alright, and that's my cue to leave the room," aiko declared, taking her newly made bowl of popcorn and marching from the room, calling over her shoulder how the movie was ready whenever they were if they still wanted to watch it.

"we're coming!" you responded, pushing lightly at semi's shoulders in order to make him move back to give you space to jump down from the island. semi grumbled about having to watch a movie, saying he'd much rather spend his time doing something else to which you just laughed at, commenting how it was true guys only have one thing on the brain when it came to the object of their affection.

semi watched you for a few seconds, admiring the slight sway of your hips as you followed aiko, calling over your shoulder if he was coming or just going to admire your ass to which he chuckled and quickly caught up, grabbing your hand to guide you to a couch behind the one aiko sat at and away. he then got comfortable, reclining back before pulling you down to sit between his legs, back resting against his chest so he could cuddle with you as the movie played.

or maybe he wasn't thinking of just cuddling because aiko had barely even started the movie before semi swept aside your hair and you felt lips on your neck along with the subtle scape of teeth against your skin causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the feeling. without much thought, you exposed more of your neck to the bold male, feeling a smirk take over as he continued his ministrations on your neck, growing bolder as he listened to your breathing hitch in your throat or the way you exposed more of your neck to him. loving the way you reacted to him, he continued on, growing even bolder by lifting your shirt with his hands so he could trace your hips and stomach without barriers between his hands and your skin. another bold action was him trailing kisses along your neck until he found the spot on your neck that you reacted to the most and then biting down, leaving a bruise in its wake. he was quick to soothe the inflamed area with his tongue, feeling himself go hard at the breathless moan you released at the feeling.

"if you guys start doing it on that couch i swear to god," aiko spoke up, throwing a handful of popcorn in their general direction. "are you even paying attention to the movie? go upstairs if you're going to do...that."

"yeah yeah, i hear you aiko," semi responded, standing up with you in his arms bridal style. "enjoy...whatever it is you're watching. i think we'll be busy tonight so don't bother us any." he called over his shoulder as the two of you left, you slinging your arms around his shoulders for two reasons. the first being so you could steady yourself, not wanting to risk possibly falling from his grip. the second reason being to hide your face in his neck, your cheeks burning as you heard over and over again the exchange between your friend and the man you were slowly starting to realize you were in love with.

"hey now, beautiful, don't go getting shy on me now," semi spoke softly, stopping in front of a door and swinging it open, maneuvering himself and you inside before gently laying you down on the large king size bed on one side of the room in the center of that wall.

you carefully scooted yourself up the bed so that your back was resting on many pillows. then you took a moment to take in the room around you. directly across from the foot of the bed sat a nightstand with a large tv. on either side of the nightstand stood two doors, one of which you assumed led to a walk in closet and the other to the bathroom. a few pictures hung here and there of him and aiko mostly, though you did see some of him with his bandmates and even some of you, him, and aiko. honestly, the room didn't look how you were expecting it to. you thought the musician might have more instruments in his room just in case he thought of a melody or lyrics late at night. 

semi could see your mind racing with questions, smiling softly at the sight of you slowly taking in his room. "what are you looking for, beautiful?"

"your room just looks...different from what i was picturing, i guess," you replied softly, turning your head to face him.

"really? how so?" he questioned, crawling into the bed right next to you, laying on his side so he could stare at you as you spoke.

"i don't know, i guess i just assumed, with you being a musician and all, especially being the composer for your group, that you would have more instruments set up around the place," you murmured, sighing at the feeling of his fingertips dancing over your hip as you turned onto your side to face him.

"that's a fair assumption," semi responded, loving to see how you reacted to his every touch. "my recording studio is right through that door though, so i don't really need them with me in order to compose in the middle of the night. however, i will tell you that this room is soundproof just like my recording studio, so you can be as loud as you want to and aiko will be none the wiser." he whispered against your lips, having moved closer as he explained where his instruments actually were.

your face instantly bloomed bright red at the implications, wanting to turn away from the shameless man in front of you, though he wouldn't let you because he was now kissing you, rolling you over so that he landed on top of you, using his forearms to steady himself so that he wouldn't crush you under his weight. but before the kiss could go any further, you moved a hand to his chest and pushed him away, a look of hurt flashing in his eyes for a millisecond before being replaced by worry. maybe he was too bold, maybe you didn't actually want this, maybe maybe maybe. many other possibilities flew around in his mind but before he could get carried away, you spoke up, speaking words he never thought he would ever hear from your mouth.

"are you sure you want me, you want this?" you whispered uncertainly, voice shaking with emotion as you looked anywhere but at semi. semi, confused on where this was coming from, sat up and then pulled you with him, sitting at the edge of the bed and pulling you into his lap where he could watch your side profile even if you tried to hide your face.

"what do you mean, dove?" he questioned, wanting to get to the bottom of this sudden hesitation from you.

"i- i just mean like-" you spoke, pausing every few words because you weren't sure if you were ready to share the sudden flash of insecurity you felt. "you could have anybody you wanted, literally anyone at all, so why choose me?"

"are you kidding?" semi questioned incredulously, almost throwing his head back and laughing at the question though refraining before he could tell you were serious about it and he didn't want to give you any reason to get mad at him or leave. "look at you, dove, you're the most beautiful woman on the planet, nothing can change my mind about this fact."

"no i'm not, i'm really just average, there are so many more beautiful women out there," you responded, playing with your fingers in embarrassment at the conversation you two were having.

"hey, no, look at me," semi spoke, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up to look at him, his thumb gently tugging at your bottom lip to pull it out from between your teeth. "are you listening?" you nodded at his question, albeit shyly. "good. the first time i ever laid eyes on you, you stole my breath away. i couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you could ever exist. but it felt wrong to think of you in that way despite you being a legal adult. but now, you're here in my arms and i wouldn't change anything for the world. let me show you the love i feel for you in my heart, please beautiful." semi finished in a whisper, forehead dropping forward to rest against your own. you sighed at the admission, truly feeling the sincerity in his voice.

instead of answering, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his, arms moving to wrap around his neck as you kissed. with semi not moving from his seated position, you carefully shifted your own position so that you were straddling his lap, your lips not leaving his own as the musician deepened the kiss, licking at your bottom lip to gain entrance to your mouth. you granted him the access he desired.

as the kiss deepened, you rolled your hips, moaning at the friction you feel against your clothed cunt. semi let's out a hiss, pulling back from the kiss to watch your eyes roll back at the feeling of his growing erection. he loved this side of you, a side only he would ever get to see as he vowed to ruin you for anyone else. as you lost yourself in pleasure, semi carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his own shirt following yours onto the ground.

"you're so beautiful," semi murmured, taking in the sight of you, shirtless, before him. a blush bloomed on your face as semi fiddled with the clasps of your bra, unhooking it and watching as a little more of you was revealed. semi groaned at the sight, he couldn't help it, you were just so beautiful, so tempting. semi stood up, almost so suddenly you would've fallen had you not had the quick reflexes to wrap your legs around his waist.

semi was quick to throw you onto the bed and then climb on top of you, using his forearms on either side of your head to bare most of his weight. with this new position, he couldn't help the groan that escaped him at the sight of you beneath him. with one arm, he started to fiddle with your pants, causing you to giggle and help take your shorts off, with his being quick to follow. with the hand that had pulled off your shorts and fishnets, he cupped your warm cunt in his hand causing a moan to slip from your lips and grind down on his hand, wanting to feel friction against your pussy. semi watched your reactions, loving the fact that it was him that made you react this way, it was him that you were currently under. all those years of thinking he wasn't good enough, that he didn't deserve any love went out the window the moment you had first moaned for him.

without any warning, semi dragged a finger along your sopping slit and then inserted a finger into your hole, almost coming on the spot at the beautiful moan of pleasure that left your lips. you really were so reactive to him, evident by the way you were clenching around his finger. you gave another moan of pleasure as he curled his finger inside you, mouth falling open in pleasure when he added a second finger. this had you absolutely creaming around his fingers, a sign you were close to coming. with a few more thrusts, he pulled his fingers from your dripping hole, smirking at the whine you let out as he moved his hand up to lick his fingers clean of you, eyes closing in pleasure at just how sweet you tasted. it was better than he ever could've imagined, you were better than he ever could've imagined.

"you feel and taste so good, angel," semi murmured before he leaned forward to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. "but however pretty you may look coming on my fingers, you'll look even better coming on my cock."

"mm whatever you want, eita-san," you murmured, slowly opening your eyes to look up lovingly at the man before you.

"good girl," he murmured, kissing the side of your lips before rolling off you in order to reach into a drawer on the nightstand next to his side of the bed. you whined at the loss of his warmth before you rolled over as well, landing on top of him so you were straddling him.

"no need for that," you murmured upon realizing what he might be grabbing, reaching over to hold his hand in yours, fingers naturally intertwining. "m' on the pill. want to feel you, no barriers."

semi cursed softly at your admission, groaning at the feeling of you grinding down on him before he was quick to roll you both over so he was again hovering over you. "do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispered against your lips, hands still clasped together as his other hand trailed from your hip to your thigh, prying open your thighs so he could drag his painfully hard erection along your soaking slit before entering you slowly, moving in bit by bit to allow you to grow accustomed to his size.

semi wasn't painfully large nor was he unnaturally long. he also wasn't short or small, but rather it felt like you were the lock to his key, you slotted together so perfectly. it was like he was made expressly for you and you for him, it was that perfect. once you'd grown accustomed to his size, you started to squirm beneath him, needing to feel his length move as you clamped down around it. semi couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled his chest and then traveled to yours, giggling at the feeling of the vibrations it gave off against your own chest.

as he started moving, he wrapped your leg around his hip to give him a better angle, allowing him to hit different areas you never even knew you had. you moaned as he continued his pace, head thrown back in pleasure which semi found extremely sexy. it stroked his ego to think of the fact he alone was able to bring this reaction out of you, he alone was able to see the side of you. as he continued pistoning in and out of you, he found you clenching tighter and tighter around him, a sign he came to realize meaning that you were close. with a few pleasurable thrusts, you came undone around him, coming on his cock and arm sling around his neck, moaning beautifully against his neck.

he continued to thrust in and out of you, chasing his own high.

"wanna feel- inside-" you babbled, a groan leaving semi at your words, coming inside you and filling you with his seed. after all, who was he to deny you?

with a final thrust, his collapsed on top of you, his now softened cock still inside you and plugging up your hole, keeping both your and his cum inside you.

"so good f'me," semi murmured, peppering soft kisses against your neck that caused you to giggle. "can i make a confession?"

exposing more of your neck to him, you spoke up breathlessly, a quiet yes slipping between your lips as you started to drag your fingers through his hair, pulling softly at his his hair each time he kissed an especially sensitive spot.

"i'm in love with you, have been since i first laid eyes on you," he murmured, looking up into your now wide eyes before softly kissing you on the lips.

"i think i'm in love with you too," you whispered against his lips, a moan surfacing after your words as you felt his teeth digging into a rather sensitive spot on your neck as if in response to your submission.

"then marry me?" semi questioned, causing your eyes to shoot open as you stared at him with wide eyes.

"b- but you're still married," you sputtered. "and what about your fans? and aiko? and what about-"

"shh," semi murmured, silencing you with a finger to your lips. "i'm in the process of getting a divorce, it's just been taking a long while because that woman has been refusing to meet with our lawyers. my fans don't need to know anything, you will be my secret, i don't want to share you with anyone. as for aiko, we can talk to her if you wish, however she has said she approves of us so long as i don't hurt you, which i could honestly never do. you're too precious to me, i could never see myself hurting you, angel."

"so she threatened you, too, huh?" you murmured, almost to yourself though semi was able to just barely catch your words, a laugh escaping him as he realized aiko had used the same threat for both of them. "relax, i want this, i want you, and nothing will stop me from getting you. i will even chase you to the ends of the earth if i must."

"i want you too, eita-san," you whispered, pulling him down to connect your lips and his in a passionate and heated kiss. if he wasn't carefully, his softening cock would surely become erect again, especially considering your current intimacy. he was, after all, still inside you.

"so then do you accept?" semi questioned happily, peppering kisses from the corner of your lips to your neck where he gave you a fresh hickey.

"i do accept," you responded, a moan escaping your lips as he continued to leave hickeys along your neck.

needless to say, that night was very...busy, though aiko had been none the wiser to what was going on because true to his word, semi had in fact soundproofed his room.

it wasn't until the next day that aiko found out about the proposal, not that you or semi had said anything about it. if it hadn't of been for the large rock on your left ring finger, she would've been left in the dark until you and semi had decided to break the news to her. but the moment she saw the ring, she let out a high pitched screech which had alerted you and semi to her presence as she rushed from the doorway of the kitchen to your side where you sat on the island, not even taking notice of the fact you wore a large shirt that belonged to semi that covered your shorts.

"you- my dad- he- i- you- when-" she stuttered, picking up your hand as she studied the ring on your finger.

you and semi simply shared a loving look over her head, both of you smiling softly as semi responded that you'd made it official last night. if aiko had seen that look, she might've walked out of the kitchen in mock disgust, however her attention was too focused on the ring.

"actually, aiko," you spoke up softly, watching as your best friend continued staring at your ring. "we were hoping you would keep this a secret between the three of us."

"of course, but do you mind if i ask why?" aiko questioned, finally taking her eyes off the ring to look between you and her father.

"we have three reasons," semi responded, continuing to make breakfast for the three of you. "the first being that i'm still not divorced yet, so if she was to get word of this, she could use this to get even more undeserved attention."

"yeah, that sounds like something she'd do," aiko muttered under her breath.

"the second reason being my manager would have a fit," semi continued as if aiko hadn't spoken. "he was adamant on my keeping up my image of being a happily married man with a happy family. however recent events have persuaded him to allow my divorce and now he wants to sell me as a recently divorced bachelor with a kid to appeal to...other crowds. or something, i don't entirely understand what goes through his twisted mind."

"what a questionable manager you have," aiko muttered, moving to sit beside you on the island to read your twitter feed over your shoulder.

"the final reason is because, well, i don't want to share y/n with anyone," semi finished, sending you a loving look to which you blushed at, aiko silently gagging beside you.

aiko was quick to hop down from the island when she noticed semi walking towards you. she really didn't want to be in the room when you guys started kissing, that was a sight she would much rather live without so she stole a piece of toast from the plate semi had set the finished pieces on before she headed out to the dining room, calling over her shoulder for them to hurry up with their lovey-dovey shit so they could eat.

semi responded with a comment for her to be patient as he stood between your thighs, hands resting on the island countertop beside your thighs to cage you in and give you a kiss. you giggled into the kiss, arms flying around his neck to pull him closer to you, chest to chest as he moved his hands from the island to your ass, pulling you to the edge of the counter to pull you flush against him, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss. before the kiss could get any more explicit, you pulled back slightly, giggling as semi tried to chase your lips, though you kept pulling back, always barely out of his reach so that you could catch your breath.

"aiko's waiting for us, let's go eat," you whispered to a playfully annoyed semi who refused to allow you to move from his hold.

"she can wait, i cannot," semi growled, eyes narrowing at you as you continued to giggle.

"the food will get cold," you responded, not backing down. "besides, we can continue this after breakfast when my best friend isn't in the room next door."

"i agree, listen to her," aiko called from the dining room that sat adjacent to the kitchen. "besides, i'm starving so hurry up dad."

"what a cockblock," semi muttered as he pulled away, causing you to burst into laughter as you hop down from the island, collecting plates and cutlery that you would need for your breakfast while semi trailed behind with the food, all the while muttering about how he'd pay aiko back, just she wait.

the rest of that morning passed into afternoon where aiko soon left the house to meet with her boyfriend, leaving the newly engaged couple to continue what had been started in the kitchen.

needless to say, that summer break passed in a blur and you were reluctant to part ways with semi for another four months, the only thing pushing you to go being the promise of your secret marriage happening during winter break, as well as the promise of a spot in semi's bands dance group so you could travel with him during tours after you graduated in a semester.

— 2023 ⓒ ensemblesmile, do not repost or translate my work. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated

[gabessquishytum]

College Hob is a little bit of a himbo, but he likes this job delivering pizzas to frat house row.

Sometimes, if he times it right the guys will be drunk enough to share a beer (or their weed) or maybe invite Hob back over once his shift ends.

There's a new guy who seems to have the job now of paying for the pizza - he's cute, doesn't seem the frat type, but he does seem the bounce of Hob's dick type.

Dream doesn't really like being a member of this frat, but it's a legacy thing and his father wouldn't have been happy if he didn’t join,,, going to school for art was pushing it as much as he could right now.

Since he tends to be the most sober person in the house, it now falls to Dream to pay the (cute) pizza guy when he comes by. Hob has the worst pick up lines, he's lucky he's cute.

AKSKSJFJ the idea of Dream in a frat is killing me. Hell yeah.

He very much does not want to be there but his dad made it pretty clear it was his only option. So Dream is suffering quietly through his college years - the boys in the house with him aren't terrible people, but there are a lot of vaguely homophobic jokes. And the house kinda stinks.

The one consolation is Hob, who brings pizzas over on his motorbike and occasionally crashes the party. The other guys in the house think Hob is cool so he's almost always invited to stick around, and it's always Dream who ends up ushering him and getting him a drink. Dream doesn't really like to drink but he does get really good weed (apparently from his sister?) But that's not why Hob really likes him.

Dream just looks so fucking pretty when he's bending over, head down and arse up, clawing at his bedsheets while Hob rails him into the early hours. Hob’s dirty talk is no better than his pick up lines, and he'll whisper all sort of nonsense about Dream paying for the pizza with his pussy...

...it would be nonsense if it didn't turn Dream on so much. He can't help the way he goes vice tight around Hob’s cock and moans loud enough to wake the entire house. In fact he likes Hob so much they almost always go another round in the morning before Hob finally disappears around the block on his bike.

Dream's family are going to be so mad at him for living off pizza every day for the entire school year but hey... he's invested in this frat house experience!!!

[goddess-aelin]

Accidents Happen

For Rowaelin Month Day 2

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: having a bad day

Rowan Whitethorn planned to start his day like he always did, a cup of coffee in hand and no ambition to be more social. And then his coffee machine had to take a crap and his need for caffeine outweighed his social aversion, especially if he was supposed to deal with his hellion of a boss. Working from home had its perks, he supposed, especially since it gave him time before his 9AM meeting to run down to the corner coffee shop and pick up a fresh cup of coffee. That didn’t mean that he particularly wanted to put pants on and trudge the block to the overstuffed cafe.

But he did it anyway. Ten minutes later, wearing the comfiest sweatpants he could find and bringing nothing but his wallet and his phone, Rowan was standing in the ridiculously long line winding throughout the tiny cafe. The smell of fresh grounds was inviting even if the amount of people was not. The cafe had a certain charm, though. The mismatched chairs and exposed brick walls featuring art from local artists made Rowan not mind the crowd as much.

When it was his turn, he gave his order, left a generous tip, and stood to the side to wait for his drink to be called. Luckily, the wait time was short and just for that simple fact, Rowan fished out a few more dollars and threw them in the tip jar. These poor college kids probably weren’t getting paid as well as they should have been considering the way they were working their asses off.

Wrapped up in the contentment of finally having the familiar warmth of a coffee in his hand, Rowan completely missed the blonde woman standing behind him. Naturally, when he turned, he walked right into her. And so, apparently, did his coffee. All Rowan could do was watch with widened eyes and an apology on his lips as the stain gradually spread down the front of the woman’s white shirt. Rowan slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers, her turquoise eyes enrapturing him from the first glimpse. Well, fuck. Not only did he spill his coffee on a poor, innocent bystander, but she just happened to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, too.

Even Rowan’s distraction couldn’t hide the simmering anger the woman was barely containing.

“I am so–”

The woman cut him off by holding a single hand up, palm toward him. The woman repeated the gesture again, giving a slight pushing motion to her hand to make him back away slightly. She left without another word. And Rowan, well, Rowan was confused as hell.

A very sweet employee took the now empty coffee cup from his hand, throwing it in the trash and already beginning to mop up the mess he made. Rowan felt helpless though he mostly felt terrible for the victim. Hopefully none of the coffee got on the woman’s skin given how scalding the liquid had been.

A quick glance to the line told Rowan that, no, he would not have time to reorder another cup. His meeting was in less than 15 minutes and he had to get back to his apartment. Rowan pushed through the crowd that amassed toward the door, avoiding the spill he caused, and left through the exit. He started making his way back to his apartment. Correction. He would have started making his way to his apartment had a sobbing sound not hit his ears.

Sure enough, the woman from the cafe was huddled on the edge of the sidewalk about 10 feet away from the coffee shop, her bag laying haphazardly next to her and her heels kicked off. If Rowan was a normal person, he would have walked right by her and got to his meeting on time. But Rowan was, well, Rowan, and his guilty conscience would not allow that.

He shot off a quick text to his boss, telling her he would be a few minutes late because of an emergency and stepped up to the still-sobbing woman. What was the best way to approach her? A ‘hey are you okay?’ seemed to be obviously wrong and tapping her on the shoulder was a big no considering he already felt like he violated her space enough today.

In the end, he settled for a simple, “Excuse me.”

The woman turned her head, her now red-rimmed eyes glancing up to him. Once she realized who he was, she let out a huff of breath and he could have sworn she rolled her eyes before putting her face back into her hands.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry and I didn’t mean for that to happen in there.” Though she didn’t answer him right away, her breathing at least slowed and her hands dropped away from her face. He took that as a good sign. Once again, he thought that normal people probably would’ve given up and walked away. But he caused this. And he would not be the reason someone was crying on the sidewalk, at least not without trying to fix it.

Maybe he was overstepping and maybe he’d regret it later, but he decided to take a seat next to her a few feet away.

“I…the coffee didn’t burn you, did it?”

The woman gave him a wary glance but after a few seconds, shook her head ‘no.’

“Is there anything I can do to help you? I can run and get you a new coffee or napkins or...if you need–”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was hoarse from crying. She cleared it a few times before attempting to speak again. “It’s just been a bad day. Bad week.” She let out a humorless laugh.

The wheels in Rowan’s brain started turning. “Wait here.” He held his hands up in supplication while getting up from the curb. “Just…wait here. Please.” He gave a half smile before running back inside. To his delight, the line had gone down considerably and he only waited a few minutes to reorder. The barista remembered his order from a few minutes before and also, luckily, remembered the woman’s order, as well. He threw in a few pastries for good measure and was on his way back out the door in no time.

To his relief, the woman was still outside, though she moved to the bench a few feet down the sidewalk. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she noticed him coming back with more than a few treats.

“This is for you,” Rowan said as he passed her the large coffee cup that smelled like it had way too much sugar in it. Once she took it, he opened the bag of pastries, their sweet aroma wafting toward the woman, whose eyebrows only went higher.

“I know you still have the stain on your shirt but I hope this at least helps make your day a little less…terrible. I really am sorry.” After a few moments of the woman still not saying anything, he started to get up and make his way back home.

“Wait!”

Rowan turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers.

“Why?” The question was barely a whisper. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Because I was the cause of this. I spilled my entire coffee cup on you. The least I owe you is a new cup and maybe some money for dry cleaning.” She huffed a laugh at that.

“You don’t owe me anything. It was an accident, one that was just the icing on the cake of a very long, very stressful week.” She shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

Rowan slowly sat back down on the bench. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, the woman’s brows furrowed and confusion crossed her face.

“You want to listen to me talk about my problems?”

“I mean, obviously you don’t have to. It just seems like you might need a listening ear.” He shrugged.

“ O…kay. Well it started when I found my boyfriend in bed with my boss.”

Rowan almost spit out his coffee. His eyes slowly gazed toward her and he noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “What a way to start a story. Seriously?!”

The smile that crossed her face did…funny things to his insides to say the least. “Technically that happened a few months ago but I did run into him on Monday, which started all these terrible events. Then my cousin, who was visiting for a while, left to go back to Caraverre, my new boss is turning out to be a total creep, I got gum stuck in my hair from someone on the train and had to have an impromptu haircut, and well…here we are.”

“Gods. I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him.

“Don’t be. It really wasn’t your fault.” She started to get up, Rowan following suit. “Well, I guess that I should get going considering I have to stop at home before going into work.” Rowan gave her a sheepish look. “Thanks for the coffee and muffins…and for listening. You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Rowan.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“Aelin.”

“Aelin,” he repeated. He liked the way her name easily rolled off of his tongue.

“Well, Rowan, this may be presumptuous of me but would you maybe…want to meet up sometime? You know, if me word vomiting my baggage didn’t scare you off.” A slow smile crossed Rowan’s face.

“You didn’t scare me off. If anything, it should be you who’s scared off, what with spilling my coffee all over you. “ He gave her a sideways smile. “But yes, I absolutely would love to meet up again.” She gave him another one of those room-lighting smiles.

After exchanging numbers and going their separate ways, Rowan couldn’t help but walk toward his apartment with a little pep in his step. He was definitely about to get an earful from his boss about being late but it occurred to him that he didn’t really care. Not when the reason he was late was so worth it.

A/N: My writing is a little bit rusty but I hope this was fluffy enough that it makes up for it! I have a few other fics planned and I’m hoping that this productive streak continues

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[whatavery]

My part of an art trade with @goobygaba, featuring their OC Sylas and Mordecai Heller himself! I was told to freestyle it, so I decided to make a short compilation of moments between the two. It was a lot of fun writing this one and the last part is partially inspired by an art piece featuring the two.

Again, I'm so glad you liked it, Snail!

August 3rd 1927

Mordecai’s ear gave a slight flick in annoyance. The gambling tables were especially crowded and loud tonight. Even from across the Marigold Room, it was hard to ignore everything that was going on down there – clearly, someone was putting on a show. Standing on the upper level of the party room near where his boss was seated, Mordecai’s green eyes surveyed the scene from afar. The sizable crowd would have blocked his view had he been there in person. Even with the live band music, the gambling table seemed to be the loudest source of noise in the Marigold room.

“Have a seat, Mr. Heller; people are going to mistake you for an ornament, if you keep standing around like that!” Mr. Sweet told him, before he chortled. It had to be the third time or so tonight alone that he’d asked him to sit with him and his guests.

“I’ll stand per usual, Mr. Sweet,” the tuxedo cat simply replied, not averting his gaze from the gambling table, quietly observing.

“Oh, fancy yourself a game of cards, kid?” The older cat seemed to finally have noticed where Mordecai's attention was directed. He chuckled, apparently finding the idea of Mordecai playing cards quite amusing.

“No, I most certainly don’t,” he told his boss, shooting him a rather contemptuous look. Mordecai may be many things, but a gambler was not one of them. He watched as Mr. Sweet pushed his chair out from the table and stood up. Mr. Sweet was a stoutly built man and quite tall as well, and he carried quite a presence wherever he went within the walls of the Maribel Hotel.

“Well, gentlemen, perhaps we should go have a look – I think I know who's putting on a show,” Mr. Sweet told the other guests around the table, though not many of them seemed to be quite as interested as he was. Mordecai sighed inwardly and followed his boss. He hadn't the slightest clue who would be entertaining a crowd like that. His most immediate thought was the Savoys, but he didn’t recall ever seeing them draw people to them like that.

In the main party room, Mr. Sweet guided Mordecai and the rest of the party towards the gambling tables. The craps tables looked downright empty next to the tables where people were playing cards, but even despite still being occupied.

Mordecai flinched when Mr. Sweet grabbed his shoulder and guided him forward through the crowd to watch. “Ah, Sylas! How’s it going, kid? Hope you're remembering to go easy on our patrons!”

Ears giving an irate flick, Mordecai looked upon the three players. The one Mr. Sweet seemed to address looked to be around Mordecai's age. His fur was dark brown with darker accents on his fingers, ears and in the form of dots under his orange eyes. However, what Mordecai took note of immediately was his state of dress.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Mr. Sweet? If they ain’t holding back, I won’t either!” Sylas was dressed in a way Mordecai wouldn't call up to code, far from it; white shirt, black vest with vertical gray pin stripes and a pair of black pants. The dark-furred cat’s white dress shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it wasn't very neatly done – very asymmetrically done, in fact. And on top of that, quite a few of the top buttons of that white shirt were undone, showing the dark cat’s chest fluff. Mordecai scoffed quietly.

“Does he work for us?” Mordecai asked with mounting dislike as he looked over his spectacles at the other cat. He turned to look at Mr. Sweet, who grinned at him.

“Sure does. He’s one hell of a card player. Almost as good at playing cards as he is at his job,” the older cat told Mordecai vaguely. Mordecai raised a white eyebrow, staring at Mr. Sweet, clearly awaiting elaboration. Mr. Sweet smirked and lit a cigar in the midst of the crowd and when he saw the look of dislike on Mordecai's face, he only seemed to smirk more. “Oh, you want to know what he does… why don’t I introduce the two of you?”

“Please don’t-”

“Hey, Sylas, I need to speak with you once you’re done here!” Mr. Sweet called loudly before Mordecai could stop him. Laying his ears back in annoyance, Mordecai inwardly groaned and knew that he was in for another unpleasant meeting with some other crazed Marigold employee. As if the Savoys weren't hard enough to deal with…

When Sylas eventually finished his game, Mordecai couldn’t help but notice how much he was playing to the crowd; loudly bidding the people at the table farewell, wishing them better luck next time and he even bowed once he'd left the table. The sight alone made Mordecai frown.

“Ah, gentlemen, sorry for the wait,” Sylas greeted the two, grinning at the two. Mr. Sweet returned the grin and put his hand on Mordecai's shoulder yet again to guide him forward against his will.

“Evening, kid. This here’s Mordecai Heller – said he really wanted to meet you.” Mordecai cast a startled look at the taller, older cat, who just grinned. “Well, you kids play nice – show him your collection sometime, yeah?”

Mordecai looked at Sylas again, taking a glance up and down the other cat once more. Sylas likewise fixed Mordecai with a curious glance as he approached with strong, confident strides, holding out a dark-furred hand for Mordecai to shake. He did so reluctantly, which earned him another curious glance.

“A pleasure,” Mordecai said, tone flat and formal, meeting the orange eyes with his own green ones.

“A pleasure it is,” Sylas agreed with a smirk. “Can’t believe I’m finally meeting you – your reputation precedes you, Mr. Heller. I heard you’re real handy with a hatchet.”

Mordecai was left in silence for a moment as he stared at the other cat. His gaze then turned to Mr. Sweet, squinting at him. He sighed and shook his head when he saw the look on Mr. Sweet’s face. “Of course…”

“Yeah, he usually prefers guns, but I’m sure he could learn a thing or two from you,” the older cat said with a chuckle as he nudged Mordecai with his elbow. “How about I leave you kids alone to talk? You’re already getting along swimmingly well.”

“Sure, we’ll talk!” Sylas loudly announced before Mordecai could excuse himself and leave. Mr. Sweet chortled and walked away to rejoin his guests, leaving the two alone in the middle of the party room. The crowd had dispersed quite noticeably by now, spread between the card tables and the craps tables.

“Please, don’t mind Mr. Sweet, he just likes to… kid around,” Mordecai told Sylas, hoping he might have a chance to get out of this arrangement. He wasn't at all sure just how familiar Sylas was with Mr. Sweet’s antics, however.

“Oh, but I did want to talk,” the other cat nonchalantly noted with a shrug. “Let’s go sit over… there.”

Much to Mordecai's dismay, he looked towards the bar when Sylas waved towards it. He frowned. “Well, if you insist…”

September 7th 1927

“You fool… what were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? No, you stay down there.” Sylas had tried sitting up, Mordecai forcing him back down onto the bed. The sheets around him weren't exactly clean, far from it. Blood stained the otherwise clean, white fabric here and there, though Mordecai couldn’t exactly change the sheets, even if he wanted to – not without getting Sylas out of bed.

“Hey, I don’t question how you do your job-” Sylas began, but as he tried to get up again, he grunted and gave up, laying back down. He supposed he deserved it. “Ow… Alright, no, I’m staying down…”

It had been a work-related accident for Sylas and he knew he had been the cause of it himself. A moment’s carelessness had led to him getting shot. Sylas knew going on these jobs wasn't all fun and games, but he supposed he'd been over-confident as he made to finish off a target, only for them to pull a gun on him. Being a hatchet man wasn't an easy job, far from it.

“Why do you have a fixation on these things anyway?” Mordecai almost spat the words as he held up one of Sylas’ knives with two fingers, as if he'd rather not touch it. Mordecai looked at the small bladed weapon with mounting dislike. After putting it down on the nightstand, he looked back at Sylas. “They’re a liability, obviously.”

It was true that Sylas fancied knives – hell, he'd even go so far as to say he preferred knives and would pick them over guns any day. He had to admit that the fact that they best in close quarters with his targets was their main downside, but usually Sylas was careful. Usually.

“Wait, what time is it?” Mordecai raised an eyebrow at this as he wiped his hands clean with a cloth, but nevertheless he checked his pocket watch.

“It’s… nearly 1,” he told Sylas. He fixed Sylas with a curious look again as he put his pocket watch away. “Why?”

“To think that I’ll be spending my birthday injured… tsk, tsk, tsk… what a pity, eh?” Mordecai stared at him in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. Sylas smirked up at him, finding the reaction rather amusing. When Mordecai stared at him like that, Sylas offered a wink. “What? I had plans – am I not allowed to be sad about having to cancel those?”

“I-… I’m just astounded that you got shot and that’s what you’re thinking about after getting stitched up,” the tuxedo cat said, frowning. He shook his head. “Well, you need bed rest – maybe some day I’ll have to teach you to use guns instead.”

Sylas raised both eyebrows in surprise and grinned. “Oh, really now? How very generous of you. You gonna have your arms around me while you teach me?”

Seeing the stunned look on Mordecai's face made Sylas laugh, though he had to stop as his injuries didn’t make laughing a very fun activity. Sylas swore under his breath.

“I can’t tell if your… attitude is admirable or appalling,” the black cat noted, shaking his head, before removing his glasses with one hand, rubbing his face with the other, he sighed. “Just get some rest, I need to go inform Mr. Sweet of this development.”

“Well, good thing we still got the job done, eh? You have a good night, Mr. Heller – hope to see you soon. I wouldn’t mind some company tomorrow. Well, later today…” Mordecai shot Sylas a look as he crossed to the door of the hotel room. Sylas winked at him and Mordecai sighed.

“I’ll… be about. I’ll inform Mr. Sweet what room you’re staying in… Hmmm… Goodnight…” Mordecai said, before he moved to the door, leaving Sylas by himself for the night. Sylas laid back on the luxuriously soft bed and sighed.

It wasn’t ideal, no, but at the very least he hadn’t been alone. Mordecai had proven to be an asset to have near. Sylas had incapacitated the target with the fling of a knife. He'd seen them drop their gun, but Sylas hadn't counted on them pulling out a second gun when he approached to finish the job. The pain of getting shot was one he wouldn't forget soon, only comparable to the pain and discomfort of the following treatment.

He had to say, even if he didn’t seem to care on a personal level, Mordecai had been a great help; he'd brought Sylas to the Maribel immediately and called a doctor. Sure, it was… unusual, but this hardly seemed to be the first time Mordecai had gone through with an arrangement of this nature. It was just a part of their line of work.

Having Mordecai along on the job was quite pleasant. He was a quiet, yet strangely comforting presence. And what made Sylas smile was the fact that Mordecai more than likely didn’t even realize this.

October 31st 1927

“Oh, Mr. Heller! Or is it Count Heller tonight? Count… Hellercula?” Sylas couldn’t help but grin when he saw the rather annoyed look on the tuxedo cat’s face as he approached him. Truth be told, he hadn't taken Mordecai for the type to dress up, but seeing him in a puffy white shirt, an orange vest and a black cloak with a high collar was a sight to behold. A sight that had made Sylas smile.

“Good evening…” Mordecai said rather stiffly. “I can assure you that if Mr. Sweet didn’t ask me to, I wouldn’t-”

“A shame… it’s fun dressing up, isn’t it?” Sylas asked, cutting in as he moved in on Mordecai. The black cat stood with his hands crossed over his lap as Sylas leaned on his shoulder with his arm. The black cat’s ear gave a twitch. “See? This is fun.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mordecai replied, frowning.

The Marigold Room was fully decorated for the occasion, fake bats hanging from the ceiling, jack-o-lanterns situated in the center of the tables, alongside rather unorthodox decorations such as chains, fake cobweb and what was (most likely) fake bones. Just about every party-goer was dressed up too; if not in full-on costumes, most of them stuck to the color scheme of orange and black.

Sylas had spotted quite a few women dressed as witches, a few men wearing masks, though Mordecai was the only vampire present – at least the only one Sylas had noticed.

Snickering, Sylas rolled his eyes. “Well, I think you make a lovely vampire.”

Mordecai looked Sylas up and down briefly, eyes scanning his form. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a werewolf, isn’t it obvious?” Truth be told, it likely wasn't obvious, but Sylas felt good about his getup. The brown cat wore a pair of black, pin-striped pants, a white shirt and an orange jacket. His feet were bare and around his wrists and his neck, he wore shiny metallic cuffs with chain links on them. And of course, all his clothes looked torn, especially the knees of his pants and the hem of his shirt and jacket.

Mordecai squinted at Sylas. “You just fell into a thorn bush. Am I correct?”

Oh, a killjoy as usual. Side-eyeing Mordecai, Sylas grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know, hatchet boy…”

Sylas offered Mordecai a wink of his orange eyes and let out a soft chuckle as the black cat looked anything but amused. He frowned and gave a low sigh. “Well, I see you’re walking around just fine. I take it your wounds have healed?”

“They have, wanna see?” Sylas burst out laughing when he saw the look on Mordecai's face. “Oh, ease up, Mr. Heller. As a matter of fact, how about we go get a drink?”

“You’re welcome to get a drink – I’m not drinking, however,” Mordecai said. To Sylas’ surprise, the monochromatic cat still walked with him towards the bar. He could feel Mordecai's eyes on him as that emerald gaze scanned his form. He knew Mordecai was looking for signs of weakness, signs that he hadn't fully healed.

“I’m fine, Mr. Heller, seriously – I’m alright,” Sylas told him, turning to grin at him. “But your concern is very sweet.”

Mordecai didn’t seem to have a rebuttal to this comment as he silently walked with Sylas to the bar. Taking a seat, Sylas patted the stool beside his own before Mordecai joined him. He seemed hesitant, but the fact that Mordecai had chosen to sit with him despite his hesitation told Sylas all he needed to know.

“One Sidecar, please!” Sylas loudly told the bartender. As he put his hands on the counter, the metallic chains on his cuffs rattled slightly against the wooden surface. Orange eyes settled on Mordecai as Sylas smiled. “And you, Mr. Heller?”

The white-furred bartender cast a curious look in Mordecai's direction, offering a polite smile. When Mordecai said nothing, Sylas gently nudged him with his elbow. He gave an annoyed grunt, ears giving a flick. “Whatever doesn’t have alcohol in it…”

“Slip him a club soda – with one of those little paper umbrellas in it,” Sylas told the bartender, smiling at Mordecai who looked progressively annoyed. And yet he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. As the bartender set about preparing their drinks, Sylas turned back to face Mordecai. “So… you're not going to run off tonight, are you? You're just here for the party, right?”

“I suppose I am… No jobs tonight,” Mordecai replied, tone exasperated as though he wished he would get called away at any moment. Mordecai's order was finished first, the tuxedo cat staring at the clear, carbonated drink in the tall glass. His eyes settled on the bright orange paper umbrella, which looked quite out of place.

“So you’re all mine tonight, eh? Lucky, lucky me…” Sylas winked at Mordecai yet again, before Mordecai turned to raise his drink, sipping from the straw. It clearly wasn't what he'd normally drink, but as he watched him sip, Sylas just leaned back against the counter as he pulled out one of his knives.

Both Mordecai and the bartender fixed him with very cautious looks. “Do you ever not have one of those on you?”

“I don’t know,” Sylas responded in a snarky tone, raising an eyebrow. “Do you ever not have a gun on you?”

Mordecai had recoiled visibly when Sylas had gestured towards him with his knife, making the brown cat grin. Mordecai scowled at him as the Sidecar was pushed towards Sylas, who eagerly took a big sip. “Fair point… but you don’t see me playing with it every chance I get…”

Sylas offered a shrug as he twirled the knife about in a way that made the bartender flinch. He certainly did make sure to move to the other end of the bar for the time being. When his and Mordecai's eyes met again, Sylas looked quite pleased. “Do you dance, Mr. Heller?”

“… No.” Mordecai squinted at Sylas. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m not going out there.”

The brown cat glanced towards the stage where a band was playing, not an uncommon sight, though they had similarly dressed in orange for tonight. Sylas chuckled lightly. “A shame, you look like you have the frame of a dancer. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in action. Sure you don’t wanna dance?”

Mordecai nearly choked on his soda as he took yet another sip of it, Sylas bursting out into laughter as he nearly dropped his knife. Mordecai coughed lightly and Sylas patted him on the back to try and help him out. “Easy, easy. Don’t worry, Mr. Heller, I can take a hint – if my ego was smaller I’d be hurt by that.”

Sylas turned back to his own drink and finally put his knife away. When he looked at Mordecai again, the tuxedo cat glared at him, a sight that wasn't too unfamiliar, though it always did make Sylas grin. Knowing that he could get that much of a reaction out of Mordecai was in itself amusing to Sylas – to him it was a sign that he knew Mordecai well enough to push his buttons.

“But in all seriousness… I’m glad Mr. Sweet introduced us – you’re really quite a cutup.” Sylas didn’t know anyone else whod describe Mordecai as a cutup, but he liked to describe him as such. He was certainly a very unique man.

Sylas held up his glass to toast with Mordecai, though the black cat seemed less than willing to do so. Sylas smirked. “Here’s to more jobs without injuries…?”

“To fewer injuries,” Mordecai agreed, finally raising his glass to gently bump it against Sylas’. As the two drank together, their eyes met, the orange fixated on the green. Sylas couldn’t help but look and feel pleased with himself. He felt like he was making progress with Mordecai, even if there was still so much about the tuxedo cat he didn’t know yet. He just saw it as a challenge to get closer, seeing as he never did turn him away completely. Mordecai Heller sure was an alluring man…

[trippygalaxy]

Awesome thank you so much—I do have an emergency request. Things have been kinda rough these past few days and I was wondering if you could write some Legend x reader? Maybe something like a little bit domestic, just really sweet run of the mill daily life with him, soft and sweet stuff lol. I’m a sucker for that. Thank you so much in advance 🫶it’s much appreciated

Of course, my lovely anon! I hope this can help you, even if its just a little bit!

Edit: IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS SMALL!! Hopefully you still like it! If you want me to redo it just send in another ask! sorry again lovely anon!

Legend

You have to admit it, your favourite spot in this forsaken world is by his side. Who's side? Your dashing hero, of course! The man who's been through hell but came back stronger, the man who's laugh made your face split in two with a grin, the man who is currently laid across your lap with that oh so comforting smile.

"You're staring again, trinket." He teased, eyes squinting at you while his grin only grew. His hat has long been discarded, allowing you to comb your fingers between his soft locks.

You huff, rolling your eyes to add to your dramatics.

"Is it such a crime to admire my darling?" Tilting your head at the man in your lap, mirth in you voice as you shamelessly trace every feature of his. The blush on the tips of his ears don't go unnoticed.

You're sure he's rebutting your comment with some sarcastic yet charming remark, but it all but falls on deaf ears. You couldn't help it, really! Laying in your lap was by far the most handsome, welcoming, and loving person you have ever met. The sun rays that filtered into the cozy living room danced across his face like fireflies.

Legend's hair was softer than any fur or yarn. When you asked how he managed to keep it so silky, he jokingly said it was a gift from the goddesses. And you believed him. Playing with his hair was an experience like no other, the locks between your digits felt like the coiling of a snake --but a snake made of the finest silks! The simple act never failed to lull the hero into a sleepy state, his eyes fluttering close and his pout turning to a soft smile.

Oh, his smile…

His lips, soft and kind, moved with such elegance when he spoke. You loved the way his bottom lip stuck out ever so slightly when he asked for a kiss. Or how his lopsided smile tugged at his lips, nearly pushing his cheek to his eye.

Legend may call you his trinket, something he is proud and overjoyed to have by his side, but he will forever be your treasure. Something so precious, you'd be foolish to ever let him go, so you won't. And he'll do the same, keeping you by his side, never to be lost.

A tug at your shirt and lips crash against yours startled yelp from you. The sound quickly gets muffled between you and your lover. A moment passes and the warmth of your hero leaves you, making you lean forward to catch him once more.

You didn't notice your eyes had closed until a hand was smooshed against your cheek, blocking you from continuing your path forward and gently pushing you back once more. When you finally open them once more, you are met with the sight of a flushed Legend.

"You truly need to learn some manners, trinket." The hero fakes a pout, his head nuzzling back into your comforting lap. "A little obsessed, aren't ya?"

That breathy laugh Legend has come to love, bubbles up once more as you continue your loving admiration of the art piece that laid before you. "For you my treasure? Always!"

[miceysfandomcreations]

After drawing straight through a dnd campaign session! I’ve finally finished! Happy early Lunar New Year @itoshisoup!

What do you get when you cross a Hell Fic alternate universe with a tragic ending, a Touya with bad coping mechanism, and a multiverse-hopping quirk? HTTM DTTS: HELLVERSE!

Ok, so, I finally read Hell fic which is really good! I’ve been keeping up with the blog for a while, so I was a witness to the 2022 descent into Dabi Hell along with the bajillion Hell fic aus that popped up. Earlier this month, I hit my mha phase, read Hell fic, and understood what the hype was about. I kept thinking of those aus and how they were perfect for a spiderverse-style crossover epic. So fueled by writer’s block for a completely different project, I made a mockup poster of the concept!

general art notes:

this was hard. Dabi’s anime hair is stupid hard to draw. The flame effects covered so much. I’m glad I didn’t do shading. Also, super proud of myself for figuring out a way to draw anime hair! I took inspiration from an across the spider verse poster with all the characters facing the camera head on. Because I had less characters, with designs similar to each other, I had to modify the poses to give some more character. Not sure how well I did on that. The white shape in the center represents MC, and I wanted it to look like the shape’s been erased from the canvas, cutting through all the Touyas.

the touyas (top of left column to top of right column, like a horseshoe), individual art notes, and story notes:

Normal fic!Touya. From default/default adjacent Hell fic universe. Don’t have much variation to go with, so he’s a ‘normal’ Dabi. Not much to say here. I think I drew him last? Was weirdly hard to finish.

jjk curse au!Touya. None of the other Touyas know what the fuck he’s talking about. What do you mean curses? What do you mean you’re dead? In universe, he and MC are HS second years/16-ish, so I made his eyes bigger, face softer, hair fluffier, tried to make him look youthful. I think you noted that this Touya didn’t look much different than normal, but as you can see, I made him blue. I think it’d be cool if he had fire glowing from beneath his scars. I thought about replacing with burned skin with exposed muscle (also blue), but decided against that for ease of drawing. His uniform’s white, because, y’know, death.

Villain au!Touya. From the au where Touya and MC ran away to become horny villains together and Touya makes a ‘no bitches’ joke to Shigaraki. He gets a matching tungsten ring and a smile! I envision him as the first alternadabi to pop up in Normal’s dimension for some reason. Maybe because he’s the most similar?

Pro-Hero!Touya. Is miffed and yet not surprised that so many of his counterparts are villains. The most well-off financially of the Touyas. The Touyas raid his agency’s fridge at some point. There are so many awesome hero au designs floating in the fandom. I came up the outfit on the fly and it probably needs to be redesigned a few more times before I’m personally happy. Still, it serves its purpose. This Touya gets gold-plated piercings because he’s worth it.

Toxic WLW!Touya. TBH I don’t remember much about this au. Does it take place in the MHA world or is it a mundane au? Either way, this Touya was the first one I had concepts for. I think every Touya is a trash gremlin no matter the gender, and I didn’t want her to lose that aspect. I gave her a new, pushed-back hairstyle because I didn’t want to draw 6 versions of the same hair, and canon Touya looks really cute with his forehead exposed. The nose piercings are replaced with eyebrow rings to take advantage of that.

late 20s!Touya. From that concept you had about an older Touya having a happy ending. This one is stable, happily married, and is a good parent. The others totally aren’t jealous at all! Why hasn’t the rogue Touya who started this mess try to take over his life? Uh…something something this reality too unfamiliar to him…too used to destruction and dying young…can’t fathom having a life like this where he builds instead of destroys…would rather tear open the multiverse than face the prospect of internal change. This Touya is more often than not the holder of the sole braincell and is trying to wrangle his younger selves in more positive directions. Assigned Responsible Adult (tm) despite not hitting 30. Wears sweats the entire time.

- I see late 20s!Touya as entering the story in 2 ways. Doing laundry and getting sucked into a portal waiting for the washer to finish (1). Seeing his alternaselves in the distance, calling his MC, and being like ‘I’m gonna need to leave for a week I have to stop myself from doing something stupid’ and following after (2).

misc notes:

I thought about doing a version of this for MC, or Shouto, but I never had a solidified design for MC, and Dabi was the funner brother to come up with concepts for.

The Touyas without the flames:

[ask-sebastian]

TL;DR. Allegra's villain arc is a rollercoaster: Angst, survival mode, heartbreak, more angst, hope and change, a massive betrayal and the point of no return.

(I apologise for the huge blocks of text + unnecessary character lore, everyone! Please skip it all - I got carried away.)

A life for a life. A birth at death. While it was never said outright to her, she heard it through the mutterings of their house-elf when she was four. Of the way, his mistress had perished at the hands of the young miss, the screams, the blood and the anguished, heartbroken wails of his master. 

Her father had named her after his late wife, a forever reminder that she was merely a trade. Afraid of his resentment, Allegra lives tirelessly to measure up to his expectations: to be the perfect daughter, in the hopes that one day, she could emulate even a sliver of the witch that her mother was

After her mother's passing, her grandparents, too grief-stricken, moved to America with the rest of their family to start afresh. They left her alone with her father, who overbore her with stories of how magnificent of a woman her mother was. Without the Picquery name to uphold his status in pureblood society, her father took on an unyielding determination to establish his family name. In pursuit of this, he relentlessly pushed his daughter into the limelight, parading her out to foster connections with the next generation in high society. 

Though she knows that her father loves her in his own twisted way, she is never sure whether this love is for her, if it's for who he thinks Allegra should be or worse, if only because she's the only reminder of his beloved wife. 

Allegra has never known what it is like to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally, which translated itself into a deep mistrust of others. She can never be sure whether someone sought her out for her or for what she represents.

Her years in Durmstrang further fed into her insecurities as it was very much "only the strong survive". Known for teaching the Dark Arts, the rest of the curriculum was based on a "sink or swim" mentality, pitting students against each other.

One shining light (she had thought back then) was that she met someone who showered her with affection. Starved, she latched onto them, ignoring all the red flags until she overheard them bragging to their friends that they had their prospects settled because of Allegra and her father's connections. She still wonders if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy on her end, but the worst thing is that she still loved them despite their deception.

With that deceit, Allegra withdrew over the summer, prompting her to question everything in her life. Even as a child, she had disliked the path her father had set out for her, and with adulthood approaching, was there a point in pretending to be someone she was not? 

It was not until she was reunited with her childhood best friend, William (@ask-elland-n-will) and started her final year at Hogwarts that she realised there were genuine people with no hidden motives. Her friends' sincerity, love and support give her the courage to change. 

(Yay! Happy ending!)

(lol, she wishes)

Just when she's learnt how to trust and let her guard down, if she is ever betrayed in the worst way possible (think a lover, Will, or even her father ), that will send her down the path of no return. She will kill any semblance of emotion and arm herself with enough power to make life a living hell for those who have wronged her. 

By then, she will see herself only as a mere cog in the wheel that could be easily replaced and will singularly seek out the power to protect herself from further hurt. With Durmstrang having equipped her with knowledge of the Dark Arts (though not necessarily to use it), a lifetime studying her father's manipulative ways, and her own vindictiveness, nothing will be beneath her in her quest for vengeance. 

[hellobunny044]

Panels. | Series

panel. in manga art, panels refers to the frame that wraps around one moment in time.

********************************************************

an original Haiky AU pairing Udai Tenma (the og little giant)

warning!!: containing some manga content.

word count: 5914

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Panel - 7

Sendai City Gymnasium, Miyagi Prefecture, Nine years ago

The crowd was roaring in anticipation as the final match of the Prefectural Volleyball Tournament of Miyagi Prefecture between Karasuno High School and Shiratorizawa Academy was on the edge.

It was a neck-to-neck game that had been ongoing for hours, and no one knew who would emerge victorious. The score was 22-21 in the final set, a match point for Karasuno after one hell of a catch me if you can deuce battle with Shiratorizawa Academy.

The players were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, but their spirits were still indomitable.

As Udai stepped onto the court, he could feel the weight of the crowd’s anticipation, and the stakes were higher than ever before. The tension was palpable, and each player could feel the weight of the game on their shoulders.

The game was no longer just about winning or losing, but it was about the pride and joy that came with being the best team in the Prefectural Volleyball Tournament of Miyagi Prefecture.

Udai knew that being the ace meant he had every right to lead his team to victory, and with that thought in mind, he took a deep breath and waited for the ball to come his way.

Shiratorizawa’s blockers were a formidable barrier that Udai had to blast through. He had to overcome them, and with only a split second to react, Udai rose to meet the challenge.

With all his power, he smashed the ball, soaring it through the air towards the opposing team, aiming for the perfect spot.

Shiratorizawa’s defense was tough, but Udai was determined to push through. He had been preparing for this moment his entire life. And then, as if by magic, he saw an opening in the blocker’s defense. He aimed his shot carefully towards the open gap with pinpoint accuracy. His strike was like lightning, and the ball crashed downwards onto the opponent’s side, past their defense.

Udai’s teammates watched in awe as the ball soared towards the gap, and with a loud crunch, it hit the ground. Karasuno's supporters erupted in joy, and the sound echoed through the stadium.

He had scored the block out, securing their victory over their rivals.

Karasuno players ran to Udai, their adrenaline pumping. They hugged him, and celebrated their win with great exhilaration. With Udai’s efforts, they had become the Prefectural Volleyball champions. Shiratorizawa’s blockers looked down in dismay, unsure where they went wrong.

As Karasuno team lifted the trophy, the entire stadium erupted in applause. The win was a moment of triumph, and Udai had proved his mettle once again. He had proven that size doesn’t always matter, and that a player’s heart, passion, and skill were all that mattered.

Karasuno High School had won the Prefectural Volleyball Tournament of Miyagi Prefecture, and with Udai’s contribution and the team’s dedication, they had become legendary in the game.

For Udai, it was a moment he would cherish forever, and he knew that it was much more than just winning. It was about the love of the game, the camaraderie of the team, and the joy of triumph.

As Udai basked in the afterglow of Karasuno’s win in the Prefectural Volleyball Tournament, he noticed some people from his school approaching him.

He had always been an aloof and hostile character, and he wasn’t used to random people trying to talk to him.

Udai felt a wall rise up within him, and he didn’t know how to react. He was so used to being on his own and not letting anyone get close to him.

People from his school tried to congratulate him and bask in the win together, but Udai wasn’t having any of it. He dismissed their attempts to talk with icy silence, immediately excluding himself from the crowd.

He wanted to be alone and process everything that had happened. He was proud of his team, and was grateful for those people’s support and sentiment, but alone was ten times better.

So, Udai excused himself and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the people from his school looking disappointed and confused. He just needed to be alone.

********************************************************

As Udai walked away from the crowd, his heart was heavy with conflicting emotions. He was proud of Karasuno’s victory, but he was also struggling with the attention and recognition that came with it.

He… just didn’t know how to share his joy with others.

As he continued to wander aimlessly, he became aware of someone calling his name.

“Udai Senpai!”

He turned, seeing a particular, familiar girl approaching him. Sasaki Tsubasa. He knew her, remembered. It’s just, this time, he didn’t know that one other girl tagging along with her, looking like she was being dragged and completely helpless about it when she was pulling her in her iron grip.

A moment there. What’s with this continuous encounter with this girl? When did it start to feel like a habit rather than just a coincidence? And since when did this girl had become so familiar with calling him around, stopping him like they know each other, Udai wondered. He wondered if he ever made her feel that way before. And he just wondered what she wanted from him now.

“Thank you for the great play during the match, senpai! We’re having a great time watching from the cheering section.” She greeted, “And congratulations on your victory.”

Should he… respond to that?

Well, he technically had turned everyone down with his hostility, the aloof brat that he was.

“Thank you.”

Just a little thank you won’t hurt, right?

Then he was staring. Like… staring and just waiting whilst asking himself, what there is to be pondered about that he stayed still and not yet walked away.

He watched the way Sasaki Tsubasa cautiously looking at him, studying everything, whilst distractedly turning to her friend, acting so weird.

She was mumbling something about whatever. That’s enough to make him linger in his defense.

Studying everything that’s currently going on before him, Sasaki Tsubasa’s friend was holding a small box of homemade cookies. She looked nervous and jittery, and Udai could sense her discomfort as Tsubasa pushed her forward.

“This— my friend has something for you.”

Udai’s gaze shifted to the glasses girl beside her, stammering in her words, looking nervous.

Why would anyone be scared to give something to him? He was just a member of the Karasuno volleyball team, albeit one of the shorter ones— no. Why would anyone ever give him something in the first place?

“I m-made you this.” She said, handing some cookies to him.

Udai blinked, couldn’t comprehend what’s coming for him.

Sasaki Tsubasa explained that her friend just wanted to give them to him as a token of appreciation.

Udai felt a twinge of guilt as he watched the girl nervously clutching the cookies. He knew how hard it was to put yourself out there and offer something to others with your own hands. But at the same time, he didn’t want to create any false expectations. He couldn’t promise anything.

“She made them herself,” Sasaki Tsubasa said, adding one more pressure in his guilt.

Like he can unheard what the girl previously told him about it.

Sasaki Tsubasa then continued, her voice insistent. “She had always been the fans of the club—“

“Sasaki…”

She turned distractedly to the girl to tell her, “leave this one to me—“ then shifted to Udai to continue, “and you’ve been the one working really hard right there to do all the hard tasks blasting through for a point that leads the team to get to this point. You’re the Little Giant of Karasuno. She admires you—”

“Sasaki… you’re being too loud about that…”

Sasaki Tsubasa turned, “Datte, you admire him, don’t you?”

The girl was fighting for dear life to utter the word, redness dusting on her face, “W-well, I-I do, but…”

“Then, there’s nothing wrong about that. He’ll listen.”

Sasaki Tsubasa turned briefly at him and said, “He’s still here, isn’t he?”

Her friend also turned briefly to look at him, but when she met his gaze, she immediately looked away.

Instead of helping her out with whatever admiration she has towards him, Sasaki Tsubasa was actually torturing her friend. Almost really clueless about her bluntness being so overwhelming for that girl to handle.

“Then, Giant Senpai,”

Udai turned, meeting Sasaki Tsubasa’s gaze.

“Thank you for that, but I’d rather not have this.”

He tried to politely refuse, but Tsubasa was having none of it.

“You would be a terrible Senpai if you turned her down, Giant Senpai.”

“I don’t go well with—”

“You know how much she admires you and your team.”

Udai sighed, “Look—”

“Are you really down to be seen as a bad senpai? That’s gonna be so harsh of you to turn her effort down, you know.”

Udai frowned. Why isn’t she listening?

He tried for another attempt to explain himself. Opening his mouth, he was about to say something appropriate to make these girls understand that he just won’t go well with such gifts, especially cookies. But the girl beside Sasaki Tsubasa spoke.

“That’s enough, Sasaki. It’s alright…”

Udai shifted to the glasses-girl instead of the brown-haired Sasaki.

“Why, though? You’ve spent quite some time making the cookies.”

Udai’s gaze shifted to the cookies.

“And because of the effort you pour to make this specially for him, we should try harder to make him accept this. You’ve worked hard for this, right?”

“B-but…”

“Suzuki wa, you’re the best baker. You should be more proud of your hard work instead of being a wimp.”

Sasaki Tsubasa sighed.

“Leave this one to me.”

Udai felt cornered. He felt really bad for ever wanting to refuse the gift, being slapped with everything that Sasaki Tsubasa said.

Of all the things… why does this have to end up being an unnecessary drama?

“Senpai, you know—”

Sasaki Tsubasa playfully threatened him with dire consequences if he turned down the gift, and urged him to show some kindness and support.

He took a deep breath and decided to compromise.

“I’ll take it.”

He agreed to eat the cookies, but he made it clear that he would do it on his own terms.

“T-thank you so much, Giant Senpai!”

Yeah. That giant calling is just a troublesome one.

He hummed, and was convinced to finally excuse himself or at least that they are excusing themselves now.

Tsubasa, however, had other plans. She insisted that he should eat the cookies there and then, in front of her friend. She argued that it was the proper way to receive a gift, and that it would make the girl happy.

“She warned him, her eyes flaring with a possessive light. “If you don’t eat those cookies, you will regret it. I promise you will,”

“Sasaki—”

“H-hey, that’s—” he halted midway.

“This is probably our last chance to talk with you in person, Giant-san.”

Udai could see the determination in her eyes and knew that he couldn’t refuse her.

Just a little more push and he was done for.

“Just a bite won’t hurt, right?”

Udai sighed, finally relenting.

“Fine.”

The glasses-girl, and of course Sasaki Tsubasa, both lightened up when Udai took one of the cookies from the box. It was a small, round, chocolate chip cookie, with a crumbly texture and a sweet aroma. He examined it for a moment, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the gaze of those two presence before him. He wondered if he should say something, or if he should just start eating it.

In the end, he decided to opt for the latter. He raised the cookie to his mouth and took a small bite.

As he ate, Tsubasa watched him like a hawk, making sure he ate every last bite.

The taste however, was surprisingly good. The chocolate chips were rich and creamy, and the cookie had a subtle sweetness that was very pleasant. He took another bite, and then another, feeling the anxiety and the pressure slowly dissipate.

“How’s that?”

Udai almost choked, feeling embarrassed that he almost forgot that he was being watched. He coughed, feeling there was a certain portion of the cookies that wasn’t chewed properly stuck somewhere in his chest. He coughed, trying to be cool about it so as not to look stupid while distractedly peering at the two girls who were looking at him expectantly.

Clearing his throat, he trying to sound nonchalant about it when he look at the glasses-girl. “It’s good.”

He saw something flushed in her eyes as the redness dusting on her cheeks, face brightened than before, as if life wasn’t there before.

“Thank god!”

Udai hummed nonchalantly. His fingers resting on the box full of cookies, tempted to take another bite.

“See?”

Udai shifted, returned to Sasaki Tsubasa.

“Wasn’t that good?”

To his surprise… she was smiling triumphantly.

“I promised you that you’ll regret not eating those cookies right away, didn’t I?”

He…

Sasaki Tsubasa’s friend, the glasses-girl, looked positively ecstatic, her eyes gleaming with happiness. “I’m so glad you liked them!” she said.

She was smiling triumphantly.

Udai smiled, trying to be polite. “Y-yeah, they were really good. Thank you for making them for me.”

Sasaki Tsubasa smiled at him, nodding approvingly. “See? Just a little bite won’t hurt, right?”

No, he guess.

Finally, they excused themselves, bowing politely.

As they walked away, Udai couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. He had survived the whole ordeal and had come out the other side unscathed.

Still, though, he could hear them muttering something like, “Suzuki, you finally gave him the cookies! That one’s to be celebrated!”

“I was able to give it to him because of you. The Little Giant is scary.”

“Hm? He is?”

“Not that he had some kind of scary face or something, though.”

“Though?”

“I mean, just everything about him is scary.”

Sasaki Tsubasa turned and Udai was still there to meet her gaze, just very briefly.

“Indeed.” She muttered to her friend, “But he’s not that little.”

There was something else there too, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

.

Tokyo, Present Day

Udai stared out of the window as Akaashi spoke, his mind wandering into the past, staying quite a while right there to recall past events that slipped past his fingers. Nine years ago, that was a lot.

He knew he shouldn’t be daydreaming, especially not when Akaashi, his editor, was discussing a serious issue about the next volume of his manga. But he just couldn’t help it.

Akaashi sighed, interrupting Udai’s thoughts. “Udai Sensei? Are you even listening to me?”

Udai blinked, suddenly brought back to reality. “Oh— ah, Akaashi-san? I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Akaashi’s expression softened, and he sighed. “I said that there’s a serious matter with your manga that we need to discuss.”

Udai felt a sense of dread fill his stomach.

Mr. Task-focus Akaashi didn’t take his work lightly, and any criticism or suggestion for improvement was always met with a stern reality check.

He braced himself for what was to come as Akaashi launched into a tirade of criticism. But as he spoke, Udai struggled to focus. His mind kept drifting back to his own world, to where the leaking of his past was flashing.

He caught the occasional word, "plot holes," "character development," "story pacing," but it all seemed like a distant blur. He nodded and muttered responses when necessary, but all the while his mind was elsewhere.

“We have a deadline to meet, and you’re here daydreaming. You need to focus, Udai-san.”

Udai felt a twinge of guilt deep in his chest. He knew Akaashi was right. They had a lot of work to do, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted like this. “I’m sorry, Akaashi-san.“

Akaashi sighed then nodded. “Good—”

His phone rang. “A minute.”

Akaashi was about to get up but halted midway, “While I’m gone, I want you to finish up those panels we discussed earlier. I need them done by tomorrow, no excuses.”

Udai felt a pit begin to form in his stomach. He knew those panels were going to take a lot of work, and he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to do them all overnight. “Can’t you give me a little more time? Tomorrow’s a bit too much, Akaashi-san~”

Akaashi fixed him with a stern gaze. “No can do, Udai-san. We can’t afford to miss our deadline.”

Udai groaned inwardly, knowing there was no way out of this. He was going to have to pull an all-nighter, again. He watched as Akaashi left the room, his mind racing with all the things he still needed to do.

He opened up his computer, the screen of which was filled with the unfinished panels. The characters were only halfway drawn, their expressions and movements stiff and lifeless. He knew he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to make them come alive.

He worked tirelessly for hours, the only sounds in the room being the scratching of his pencil on paper and the occasional beep of his laptop. He didn’t have time for breaks, for food, or even for sleep. He was determined to finish these panels, no matter what it took.

Hours passed, and the clock on his laptop showed that it was already early in the morning. His eyes burned with exhaustion, his body aching from sitting at the desk for so long. But he couldn’t stop. He had to finish these panels.

He could feel his fingers began to shake with exhaustion, his mind becoming more and more foggy as he continued to work. But he couldn’t give up. He had to keep going.

As dawn started to break through the window, Udai finally finished the last panel. He slumped back in his chair, his breath coming in short gasps. He had done it. He had finished them all.

He sat there for a few minutes, his eyes closed, trying to recover from the long night he had just endured. But he knew he couldn’t rest for long. Mr. Task-focus would be calling soon, asking for an update on his progress.

Sure enough, his phone rang, interrupting his moment of peace. He groaned, knowing he had to answer it. “Moshi moshi. Good day today, Akaashi-san.” his voice groggy and tired.

———————————————————————————

Akaashi’s voice was tense as he spoke. “Good morning, Udai-san. How’s it going? Did you finish the panels?”

———————————————————————————

Udai nodded, even though Akaashi couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I finished them all. They’re all done.”

———————————————————————————

Akaashi sounded nonchalant. “Congratulation on successfully doing an overnight, Udai-san.”

———————————————————————————

Udai laughed bitterly over those words, and ended it with a long sigh.

As he hung up the phone, he looked out the window again, it was still early in the morning. He couldn't help but think about the way his manga would be received by readers, wondering if they would appreciate all the hard work that went into it.

His eyes trailed what’s on the last page. The blank page is now alive with lines and words in panels.

The world was still too quiet, only the ticking of clock was in the room, but to Udai, those panels on the last page were speaking to him, thanking him for hanging there for another good work this time.

Good job hanging right there to birth us alive, they said.

Udai smiled, feeling a sense of pride washing over him. Nothing felt better than knowing he had completed his task, and he had done it well.

He knew it didn’t matter, though. He had done his best, and that was all that really mattered. He closed his eyes, feeling a sense of calm wash over him.

When the sun finally rose, casting its golden light through the window, Udai once again looked at the last page with a sense of satisfaction.

He remembered why he had started drawing in the first place, why he had felt that spark of creativity that had led him on this wild and difficult journey.

********************************************************

It was on the 10th volume that Udai started to go undercover and do a little field research about public reaction to his manga, eager to witness it first hand to gain some new motivation if he ever stuck.

A month later, after the publishing of the 24th volume of Zomb’ish, Udai decided it was time for him to conduct a little field research.

Dressed incognito in a faded hoodie and a worn-out beanie that partially obscured his thin-framed glasses, Udai stepped into the first bookstore on his undercover journey. It was a bustling place, with high schoolers perched in every corner, their animated conversations weaving through the air like playful spirits.

This sight brought back a flood of memories for Udai, reminding him of his own rebellious days when he used to cut class just to read manga without buying it.

He meandered among the bookshelves, like a shadow drifting in the twilight. The colorful spines of various mangas lined the shelves, each one beckoning him like a siren’s whisper.

His heart swelled with pride as he caught sight of his own masterpiece nestled cozily amongst the crowd. It felt surreal to witness his creation in the hands of others, to see their eyes devouring each page with an insatiable hunger.

Udai decided to strike up a casual conversation with a group of high schoolers huddled near the manga section. Their excitement was palpable, their discussions echoing in animated pitches.

Engaging them was like stepping into a time capsule and being transported back to his youth. Their camaraderie, their passion, and their unwavering loyalty to the world of manga sparked an ember of inspiration within Udai's soul.

The group of high schoolers laughed and exchanged manga recommendations as Udai listened intently, their words carrying a certain melody that resonated deeply within him. Their glowing faces as they spoke about their favorite characters and thrilling plot twists made Udai realize the true impact his manga had on their lives. It has always been awe-inspiring to witness the magic weaved within the pages of Zombie Knight Zomb'ish transform into tangible emotions and connections.

As the conversations grew louder and more enthusiastic, Udai caught whispers of his work amongst their discussions. The realization hit him like a tsunami of gratitude, washing away any lingering doubts. It was, once again, an affirmation that his art had found a place in the hearts of these young souls, as it had done with him so many years ago.

He was so lost in thought, wandering through the bookstore’s shelves, that he didn’t notice the group of high schoolers clustered together until too late. He collided with one of them, causing that one girl to stumble backwards and her books to scatter across the floor. Udai quickly bent down to help her, and amidst the chaos, he noticed a small keychain dangling from her bag in the shape of a volleyball.

The sight of it stirred something within him, transporting him back to his own high school days.

He remembered the countless hours spent on the court, the sound of the ball smacking against his palms, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. A flood of emotions washed over Udai, the memories mingling with his present circumstances, making him feel both young and old all at once.

“Are you okay?” he asked, handing some of her books back to her.

The girl nodded shyly, her eyes lingering on his beanie-covered head. Udai could feel her gaze on him, his incognito disguise seemingly fooling no one. He offered her a comic from his pile, and as she reached out to take it, he noticed the keychain again.

For a moment, Udai wished he could go back in time, to relive those days of infinite freedom and limitless potential, to play volleyball and to just go back to where reading manga was ten times better than being in class. But then he realized that he didn’t need to go back; those memories and those joys were still with him, embedded in his soul, reminding him of the power of storytelling and the import of connection.

Udai’s nostalgia was interrupted by the excited chatter of the other high schoolers nearby, talking about the new volume of Zombie Knight Zomb'ish. Their enthusiastic conversation pulled him back into the present, reminding him why he was here in the first place. He gathered himself and focused on observing the reactions of the group.

He watched as they leafed through the pages, their eyes widening with each new twist and turn. The sound of their laughter and exclamations filled the air, banishing any lingering doubts from Udai’s mind. He had created something that touched the hearts of his readers, something that he could be truly proud of.

Udai continued his little incognito field research at the bookstore, his eyes scanning eagerly through the shelves, a special display of his very own Zombie Knight Zomb’ish. As he picked up a copy, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a call from Akaashi.

“Moshi moshi, Akaashi-san,” Udai answered, his fingers lingering on the cover of his latest volume.

———————————————————————————

“Udai-san, good afternoon. I was just checking in on the rough sketching progress. How’s it going?”

———————————————————————————

“Ah, that? It’s coming along well.” He smiled, scanning through the red cover of the copy he had in his hand.

———————————————————————————

“That’s great to hear,” Akaashi replied. “where are you? It sounds pretty noisy.”

———————————————————————————

He grinned, “Oh? I’m elated to have you unexpectedly care about another thing than about work. Where do you think I am right now? Give it a try, Akaashi-san.”

———————————————————————————

“No. Thank you. Probably just another day of slacking off and procrastinating the deadline it is.”

———————————————————————————

“What do you mean slacking off and procrastinating? Didn’t I tell you? This is research.”

———————————————————————————

“Better be some research, Udai Sensei.”

———————————————————————————

“Akaashi yo, didn’t we agree that I’ll be teaching you another lesson everytime you underestimate me about things like this?”

Udai glanced around him, noticing a group of high schoolers approaching the display shelf where his manga being displayed.

Udai promised to send the sketches and hung up the phone, watching as the high schoolers swarmed the manga display. He felt a sense of pride and joy, seeing his work in such high demand. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel like an outsider, removed from the throng of young readers who had embraced his creation.

He wondered what it would be like to be one of the high schoolers once more, to spend all afternoon immersed in the world of manga, bonding with friends over the latest releases.

He quickly judged that it would be better to excuse himself and not expose his identity.

Udai tucked the manga back onto the shelf and made his way to the exit, determined to complete his undercover research before the day was over.

By the time Udai returned home, the sun had already surrendered to the twilight sky, casting a purplish hue across his apartment. He took off his beanie and let his tousled hair fall freely. Thoughts and emotions surged within him, ready to be immortalized in the form of ink and paper.

The drawing swept Udai away, transporting him to a realm where the line between reality and fantasy blurred into kaleidoscopic hues. It was a dance of prose and scratches, a symphony of emotions told through the tale of a young hero fighting against an army of undead. Udai poured his heart into every word, weaving a tapestry that would resonate with the souls of his readers, just as he connected with his own youthful spirit that fateful day.

********************************************************

Udai sat at his desk, phone pressed to his ear as he discussed the plot of the next volume of his manga, Zombie Knight Zomb’ish. His mind raced with ideas and possibilities, his creative vision already taking shape in his mind’s eye.

“Akaashi-san, listen…”

———————————————————————————

“What is it, Udai-san?”

———————————————————————————

“I’ve got some major plot twists that I think we can work with. What if the zombies aren’t the only villains in the story? What if there’s a human organization behind the outbreak?”

———————————————————————————

Akaashi’s voice crackled over the line. “That’s brilliant, Udai-san. It adds a whole new layer of complexity to the story and raises the stakes for the characters.”

———————————————————————————

Udai felt a thrill of excitement coursing through him, the validation of his editor and friend lending him a sense of confidence and inspiration. “Right? Right?”

———————————————————————————

“But how can we link this new twist to what’s already been established in the story?” Akaashi asked.

———————————————————————————

Udai thought for a moment, the gears of his mind turning.

“What do you think if one of the characters is secretly working for the organization that’s behind the outbreak? It would add a layer of betrayal and conflict that we can use to fuel the story.”

———————————————————————————

“Well, yes, that’ll do, I guess.”

———————————————————————————

“Geh!” He grumbled, “Can you be more enthusiastic, Akaashi-san? I am working very hard right here.”

———————————————————————————

“Congratulations on working very hard for your manga, Udai-san.”

———————————————————————————

“Geh.”

As he and Akaashi continued to brainstorm, Udai’s mind wandered back to his time spent observing the public’s reaction to the release of his manga’s new volume. He remembered the faces of the readers, the way they laughed, cried, and cheered as they devoured the pages.

He felt a sense of pride and gratitude, knowing that his work had touched their hearts in profound and meaningful ways. But he also knew that success was not guaranteed, that the creative journey was fraught with obstacles and challenges.

********************************************************

Udai rubbed his bleary eyes, staring at the rough sketches he’d drawn the night before. He had spent another restless night, his mind consumed with the plot of the next volume of Zombie Knight Zomb’ish, his pencil scratching frantically against the blank pages of his sketchpad.

He couldn’t help feeling a sense of frustration and desperation, knowing that his work was still not where he wanted it to be. He traced the lines of his drawings, seeking some kind of inspiration or insight that would help him unlock the creative puzzle that had been eluding him for so long.

With a sigh, Udai got up from his desk and left his apartment, heading straight for the convenience store in his neighborhood. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the streets as Udai made his way through the quiet morning stillness.

As he entered the store, he reached for an instant breakfast, his mind still consumed by thoughts of his work. He paid for his purchase and sat down at a small table, sipping his coffee and staring out the window at the passing cars and the city as it stirred to life.

But even as he ate, Udai couldn’t shake the restless feeling that consumed him. He knew that he had to find some way to break through the creative blockage that was preventing him from realizing his vision for his work.

Udai left the convenience store and headed back to his apartment. He sifted through his laundry, looking for a fresh shirt to wear, but his eyes were drawn to the ocha-stained shirt that he’d worn on the day he’d accidentally bumped into Sasaki Tsubasa for the second time.

As he stared at the shirt, memories of that day flooded back to him. He thought of Tsubasa’s smile, the way she had looked at him warmly.

Then Udai was immersed a little further into everything that happened that day. One thing that made him reluctant to leave his reverie was about Tsubasa surprisingly being one of his manga readers. Well... even though it wasn’t supposed to be that surprising. The bottom line was what her co-worker, Hatakeyama Jiro, had said about Tsubasa’s interest in his manga.

Udai still remembered everything:

“You know, Udai-san, this kid sometimes steals time to read manga in between her work breaks. She has a stock of manga in her desk drawer to read every break.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I don’t know about the details, but, clearly it’s something about Zombies…”

“This is your last warning, Hatakeyama.”

“Hora, something recommended to me, Sasaki.”

“What?”

“That manga you recommended— was it called Zombie Knight or something else?”

Tsubasa sighed, her eyes glancing at Udai before she said, “You know, we should talk about your timing next time, Hatakeyama.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Hatakeyama-kun, let me introduce you once again to Udai Tenma-san; the creator of Zombie Knight Zomb’ish manga that you were talking about.”

There was silence after Tsubasa introduced Udai to Hatakeyama Jiro once again.

Udai glanced at Tsubasa before he returned to Hatakeyama Jiro, deciding to lower his hand again after raising it awkwardly to greet Hatakeyama Jiro. Waving was certainly not a good choice. His laughter was thin and awkward, almost insincere.

“Ah! So, Udai-san is the mangaka of Zombie Knight?”

“Well…”

“And what?” Tsubasa replied, “After this you’re still going to say that manga is only for kids?”

“Hey, come on! That one’s because you’re childish.”

“Ha!? Don’t make so many nonsensical excuses for your insulting claim!”

“Exactly.”

Hatakeyama Jiro turned to Udai, “Speaking of manga, it’s an honor to know that you’re the very author of Zombie Knight, Udai-san,”

“A-ah... thank you.” Udai said awkwardly.

Hatakeyama Jiro turned back to Tsubasa, “That’s why you’ve been reading Zombie Knight so diligently, apparently.”

“This kid,” Hatakeyama Jiro’s hand pointed at Tsubasa as he turned to the stunned Udai, “she really likes your manga.”

The world stopped.

“Not only that she kept it in her drawer, one day, she wouldn’t stop talking about your manga and gave everyone the hassle of having to listen to everything she said. Not to mention how every week she would go to the bookstore just to buy the latest edition— ah, last time you, remember? She also got the latest series of your manga to bring to the office.”

“H-hey! What’s so wrong with that? I have taste, you know! Besides, the story is that good!”

That’s right. About Tsubasa liking his manga is something that should be normal. However, it was different because it was Tsubasa. He had no problem with anyone—anyone, even perhaps his former Japanese Literature teacher was one out of the million of his readers—but it was a different story if it was her.

Because it was her, everything that was normal in his sense, became unusual.

For one thing, though, his hope has been broken because the heart he once put a scar on has found a healer. The door that he had left open that time, had found someone who politely entered in and locked it tightly. And here, Udai was just an uninvited guest of the story, a merely side character of Hatakeyama Jiro and Sasaki Tsubasa’s blossoming panel.

Udai felt a pang of jealousy, unsure of his own feelings and motivations.

He folded the shirt and placed it back into the hamper, his heart heavy with unanswered questions and unresolved emotions. He knew that he had work to do, that he had to focus on his art and pour himself into his creative vision.

But even as he re-immersed himself into his work, Udai couldn’t shake the memory of his last unexpected encounter with Tsubasa.

With a heavy sigh, Udai pushed those thoughts aside and threw himself back into his work.

—

[anonymous-user-a]

The tunnels of the hideout had seemed to have gotten worse. Rot and viscera coated the walls like a repulsive amateur art project. The beasts had become more frequent and aggressive. Often they'd attack Lance instead of Archer, seemingly wanting to spare their unknowing creator. Archer couldn't help but feel guilty; whatever these beasts were, she'd played a part in their creation and seemingly painful existence - not to mention all the people who must've been hurt by them. Toxin helped cut down the beasts, clearly more tolerant of the near-toxic environment due to its poison typing. Unfortunately, this also meant that the creatures were resistant to Toxin's Cross Poison and Leech Life attacks. Either way, they all made their way through the tunnels that the hideout had consisted of. Luckily, the spin-tiles had been deactivated by the lack of power, making it far easier for them - Lance, mainly, as Archer knew the puzzle's solution like it was second nature due to working there - to get through certain sections.

The hideout wasn't particularly small but, with the corpses strewn about and two people trying to navigate it, it certainly felt both claustrophobic and endless in the worst way possible. Between the two of them, Lance seemed considerably more disturbed by the environment than Archer. It supposed they couldn't blame the Champion; this was likely the first time that he went down here and Archer was far more familiar with this level of gore. He helped Lance as much as possible, often guiding him despite their subordinate disposition and - quite frankly - poor leadership skills, and being as patient as possible despite just wanting it to be over. The environment didn't seem particularly welcoming, even to someone familiar with it - Arceus knows how unsettling it was to someone unfamiliar with it. Together, they pushed forward, Lance mapping out the area as they searched for the source of the creatures and a way to easily dispose of them without causing more harm. After all, it was the least that Archer could do in this self-made hell.

Eventually, most of the rooms had been explored. Only a handful remained, including the freezer room that Archer had halfheartedly attempted to seal on her first foray into the festering tomb. To be blunt, he especially didn't want to go into the freezer room, delaying it as much as possible. After all, that is where the majority of organs and limbs were kept; if it was bad elsewhere, it would be hellish in there. Archer felt sick to their stomach trying to imagine how bad it'd gotten there - and the inevitable look of horror on Lance's face when he realises the true scope of Archer's actions. Maybe he'd finally realise that Archer was too far gone to atone for all his sins, or maybe he'd be too nice and naïve to care - just as long as Archer was trying. Neither possibility seemed particularly appealing. Perhaps it would've been smarter to get it out of the way first, but if they could all immediately leave after dealing with the freezer and therefore avoid the awkwardness that would likely come with working alongside someone who knows it's a monster, that would be optimal.

Of course, they eventually got to the freezer room as the last stop before they returned upstairs to reconvene with the Elite Four and discuss their findings. The door seemed to resist being opened, but there was no way it could be locked with the automatic lock mechanism down. Furthermore, it didn't feel locked exactly - it felt like there was something elastic covering the door and forcing it closed. Working together and pushing the door at the same time, Archer and Lance began to make progress. Though, part of them really wished they hadn't. Sounds of tearing and some sort of cruel approximation of screaming could be heard from the other side of the door. They managed to get the door open enough to see what looked like stretched, torn skin blocking the door. It was like the door had been grown over by some sort of fragile, tearable skin, like a scab forming over a wound. Both of them froze in shock, feeling sick at the uncomfortably organic sight. Lance was clearly braver than Archer, asking Toxin to try to cut open the skin enough for them to get through. Equally unsettled, the Crobat looked towards Archer for confirmation of the command, who nodded in agreement.

With a slash from Toxin's wings, the skin was cleanly sliced through, allowing for the pair to squeeze their way through. Whatever thing that the skin belonged to let out another loud scream, sounding like the cries of hundreds of Pokémon bellowing at once in a terrifying, discordant harmony. It was so loud that it shook the floor, forcing Archer to cover its ears and causing Toxin to bolt around in a panic. After the horrid wail subsided, Lance took Archer's shaking hand, giving them the most encouraging look he could muster. As much as it wanted to run away and leave this place behind, Archer nodded back, as ready to enter into the hell that he made and face the true consequences of her actions as they'd ever be. In all honesty, Archer didn't know why he didn't just abandon Lance to deal with it; it was absolutely not worth the risk for Archer to be involved, but it stayed anyway, regardless of the consequences and a lack of reasoning for doing so. Either way, they entered the freezer room together, hands intertwined as they tried to silently encourage one another to do what they must.

The freezer room barely counted as a room anymore, seeming more like a mouth or stomach. The walls were made out of screaming faces and writhing limbs, all trying to claw at the pair and closing in on them. It seemed to pulsate and breathe, letting out another terrible cry as it grabbed Toxin, seemingly trying to gain more flesh and build upon itself by eating the poor Pokémon alive. The flesh of the wall seemed to be attempting to suffocate the Crobat as it struggled to escape. In a panic, Archer let go of Lance's hand and charged at the wall that grabbed Toxin and attempted to drag the Pokémon back out. It was seemingly futile, only resulting in the corrosive flesh attempting to consume their arms as well. Lance grabbed Archer, helping her in saving Toxin and pulling his arms out of the sentient flesh. Toxin was injured, but it didn't seem fatal; Archer returned the Crobat to its Pokéball with bleeding, shaking hands to allow for the Pokémon to recover.

In the center of the room was an odd machine, seemingly breathing despite being made entirely of non-organic materials. Archer immediately identified it as a GameShark - clearly powering the horrid creature and was likely the source of the beasts tormenting Celadon. This was the heart of all the agony that Archer had accidentally unleashed on the world, beating right in front of them. The device had been used in previous times to allow for the experiments to be successful, seemingly breaking the fabric of reality to allow for it in ways that Archer could never understand. In those times, she simply saw it as a gift from Arceus to the world to its loyal servants - like him - the power to further their individual goals. Now, it was hard to see the device as anything merciful or pleasant - not with the results of it surrounding them.

The grasping, pulsating walls reached for Lance, forcing Archer to respond. Lance struggled against the living rot as Archer used the abomination's focus against it, reaching for the machinery and grabbing it in his palm.

The beast let out another pained cry, letting go of Lance to devote all its power to tearing its creator away from its heart. Archer's body seemed to reject touching the device. It was as if the universe was trying to tear her arm apart, his skin burning and melting away and exposing flesh. They let out a similarly agonised scream as it began to pull the machine out of the desperate abomination clawing at him.

Just as he did when they were saving Toxin, Lance grabbed Archer and began to pull. As they pulled, the abomination seemed to come undone, the bonds that held the rotting limbs together tearing and ripping themselves apart. Blood and viscera leaked from the device, muscles and skin attaching it to the walls. The pair tore at the muscles with desperate ferocity, like trapped animals.

With a sickening snap of the muscles breaking, it came loose, and Archer fell to the floor with the device in his injured hand. Lance hurried towards Archer, trying to make sure she was okay.

The last thing that Archer felt was the uncomfortably warm floor. The last thing that Archer saw was the abomination coming apart and dying. The last thing that Archer heard was Lance insisting that they stay alive. Then, Archer fell unconscious.

When it returned to consciousness, he was in a hospital.

[ajgrey9647]

"Suck on it." + Boom! Comics; GGPR universe or Coinless Universe + Billy/Skull ^^

In the Moment/It's All That Matters

That night as they sat at the counter in Billy’s kitchen, devouring steaming bowls of Hamburger Helper and hotdogs, followed by shy, soft kisses, Skull considered one of the best of his life. To know that the blonde genius returned his affections made his heart feel as if he were soaring. He thought he must be dreaming that he’d tasted the Blue Ranger’s soft lips.

He kept his promise about keeping the Rangers’ identities a secret, not even letting his best friend, Bulk, know what he’d seen. Nor did Billy make the others aware that Skull had seen them morph. All that the scrawny teen could do was cheer quietly from the sidelines, though his stomach clenched with worry whenever he watched the deadly battles on television screens.

Seeing Tommy strutting down the halls at school made him bristle. Knowing that the viper was slithering about so close and being unable to do anything about it made Skull feel nauseous. He was right that Oliver, that fucking dick, was dangerous. More than once Tommy caught Eugene glaring at him angrily and he’d smile brightly before flipping him the finger.

That dreary, rainy Saturday afternoon, Skull lounged on his lumpy mattress, idly flipping through his new copy of a Spiderman comic, gifted from Bulk, when he heard a sudden series of blows hammering smartly against his bedroom door. He jumped causing the brightly colored pages to flutter to the floor.

“Hey butthead!” Stan screamed from the opposite side. “Your little boyfriend’s here to see you!”

Butterflies swirled in his guts as he scrambled to his feet, excited to be seeing Billy unexpectedly even here in this hell pit. Straightening his clothes and running a hand through his disheveled dark hair, Skull struggled to fight the goofy grin threatening to stretch across his face.

As soon as the door swung to, the problem of a cheesy smile was no longer his biggest issue.

“Hey there, buckaroo,” Tommy cooed, all sunshine and rainbows except his eyes which were bottomless black pools.

‘He really IS a demon,’ the punk’s mind realized despite the eruption of fear and panic blasting away logical thought.

“You two don’t be making out now,” Stan chirped before bounding back down the stairs to the living room where his buddies were plotting their newest escapade.

As soon as the older boy was gone, Tommy bulldozed his way into Skull’s bedroom, shoving him back until he tripped, landing roughly on the worn carpet in an untidy heap.

“Why are you here?” Eugene squeaked as he stared up at the menacing, psychotic teen who was pointedly swinging his door shut.

The patrician lips curled in an icy smirk when he heard the latch click ominously.

“You tell me, you chicken-looking motherfucker… Because I think you know.”

Skull inched away on his bottom under the Green Ranger’s contemptuous glare.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit, you fucking dick!” Skull spat, the words tumbling out to his bewildered horror.

Tommy’s head tilted as he considered the smaller, weaker boy scooting across the rug like a dog dragging worms out of its ass. His feline grin was full of sharp, white teeth and the black eyes flashed an emerald fire.

“Now, now, which one of us is running around pushing people off ledges, Eugeeennneee…” he hissed. “You can stop playing dumb. I know you know about me. And the other technicolor bitches.”

Somehow Skull managed to find his feet, not that it would do him any good. He couldn’t fight, not really, not skilled in any martial arts like the Rangers or this raging asshat. Dumb luck was the only thing that seemed to step in on his behalf and that wasn’t exactly a reliable weapon. His ass knocked into the splintered wooden chest of drawers, blocking further retreat.

“Did it make you feel good, Eugene, feel like a hero? Swooping in to save that little Blue nerd…” Tommy growled, coming ever closer. “Did it finally earn you some ass?”

Skull’s grey eyes were stormy as he stared back defiantly.

“Eat shit, Oliver, you pompous, power hungry, witch humping dumb fuck!” he snarled. “I bet you prance around in that Madonna inspired titty holder like you actually are in charge of anything, you sniveling puppet bitch!”

Tommy’s advance halted, his expression one of stunned fury at the scrawny little punk’s outburst.

“The fuck did you say to me?”

“What? Are you deaf AND stupid?” Eugene nearly yelled. “I had you figured out from the start even if I didn’t know you were a Ranger! You’re a sick fuck and I’ll be glad when Jason trashes your smug ass!”

This made the Green Ranger howl with laughter, his hands clutching his sides like a cartoon style bad guy.

“Is that what you think is going to happen, Skull? Haven’t you seen little Red Riding Hood limping down the school hallways? Or any of the rest of them? I know you saw what I did to Billy, the night you two sucked face…”

Inching his way around the room, Eugene frantically tried to figure out how he was going to escape this monster. Tommy slowly circled like a shark, awaiting an answer, amused at the boy’s glowering stare.

“What I think is going to happen is you getting your ass kicked five ways from Sunday!”

The green-clad teen rolled his eyes.

“So full of empty insults and pathetic wit. I’m going to bring those pitiful little children low, toy with them until they beg me for death, then drag them into the fiery pits of hell. But first I think I owe you for my little impromptu swim, don’t you, Eugene?”

At that moment, his shaky hand brushed a large plastic box perched on his nightstand and he instantly knew what he was going to do.

“Alright, Mean Green, come on! Take me out!” Skull challenged. “I’m not afraid of you, you nutty trash panda!”

Time seemed to stand still as Tommy took a large step forward, teeth bared and rearing an arm back to punch the smart ass into next week. He didn’t realize that the other boy’s arm was also moving until five seconds past too late. A wave of bright orange smacked him squarely in the face, painfully coating his wide eyes and invading his nostrils and mouth.

As the evil Ranger spat and hissed in fury, a mist of orange kinetic sand issuing forth when he bent forward to dig at his burning eyes, Skull ducked around him and out of the bedroom, sprinting down the stairs in a mad dash towards the living room. Fortunately, Stan was no where to be seen and his good ol’ ma and pa were who the fuck knew where…

Slamming into the front door, he hurled it open and darted out into the chilly rain.

Somehow, Skull had gotten lucky yet again…

However, eventually luck does run out and he was keenly aware of this fact.

The Day of the Great Battle was coming, though no one could know that and in the interim, Angel Grove was trashed along with many other cities across the world. The Rangers were hanging on by a thread, exhausted, demoralized, and knowing that they were most likely looking down the barrel to their own death. But they stubbornly refused to back down and surrender.

No where was safe and the frightened citizens had abandoned their homes, fleeing in terror from the army of monsters that seemed to come in wave after wave, prowling the streets as they gleefully sought weak, pathetic humans. Fires raged well into the night, the smoke permanently choking the air and giving everything the scent of burnt wood and decaying flesh.

This night was no different as Skull carefully crept amongst the shadows toward the park, not the popular one everyone else used, but a smaller one that he and Billy spent hours in as small children. The wooden play structure that served as their ‘ship’ somehow still stood against the dark sky, backlit by the moon.

And waiting inside, a lithe figure crouched.

“You came,” Skull whispered as loudly as he dared, hooking a leg up to climb into the makeshift tower.

“Affirmative,” Billy answered, leaping to his feet, his smooth hands gliding along the sides of Eugene’s face to pull him in for a deep kiss.

The lanky teen was happy to accept the passionate lip lock, relishing the warmth and softness under his lips. He wasn’t sure that he’d see the Blue Ranger again. And after tonight, he just might not, thanks to that demented, evil fucker cavorting up and down the city with his band of merry assholes.

Pulling back from his boyfriend’s lush mouth, but only slightly, he gazed into those amazing blue eyes intently.

“I thought you might be too busy. You mentioned that you guys might have found a way to stop that slimy son of a bitch, Captain Crazy Ass.”

Billy chuckled, always amused with the wide variety of nicknames and adjectives his boyfriend had coined for their deadly nemesis. It made the gravity of the situation a little more bearable.

“We’re harnessing the power of the White Light. They’re being made from the light of goodness and are stronger than any of our Ranger powers, including the Green Dragon,” he answered. “Ninjor, one of our allies, is feeding the energy into a coin that will create a new White Tiger Ranger. It should be ready in a day or two at most.”

“Sweet! I knew you guys would figure it out!” Skull crowed, pulling Billy tightly against him to twirl through the air. “So, who gets the honor of smoking that fucker?”

Steadying himself once he was back on his feet, Billy adjusted his glasses and quickly scanned the shadows for listening ears.

“Jason has the best shot against Tommy compared to the rest of us. He’ll have to take on these new powers and it might take some time to do it safely. We don’t want to risk overloading him by doing it too fast. It’s unknown how much Grid energy a human body can safely handle,” he whispered. “We just need to hold out a little longer.”

Eugene gave a theatrical sigh.

“Thank goodness! I miss the way things used to be, even going to school every day, just don’t tell Bulk I said that!”

Taking the Blue Ranger’s hands in his own, the skinny teen brushed his thumbs tenderly over the scratched and burned skin. Billy had been working nonstop, fighting the Green Goofy, repairing Zords back to back to back and earning painful electrical burns in his hurry, and assisting with this new power coin. It was obvious he was overwhelmed and exhausted.

“You know, in spite of all this fuckery and shocking revelation going on, I can honestly say that one positive thing came through,” Skull’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t know if I’d have ever got up the courage to tell you how I feel. Or to save a Ranger. Well, Rangers, I mean if you count me and Bulky intercepting Oliver before he blitzed Jason.”

He chuckled.

“I’ve learned a lot about myself during all this and it’s changed a lot. So, when this is over, Billy… I want everyone to know what you mean to me. I don’t care what anyone thinks about it. They can go pound sand!”

The blue eyes behind those wire frame glasses were sad and Eugene paused.

“What?”

Billy nestled closer into his boyfriend’s protective embrace.

“We not out of the woods. Not yet. Anything could happen between now and defeating Tommy. My brain can’t help but look at probabilities, Skull, and overall we don’t have the greatest odds until we secure the White Tiger powers.”

He was right. Skull knew it too, though he couldn’t bring himself to go down that line of thinking. Every moment needed to count.

Starting now. If Billy was feeling what he was feeling. There might be no second chances. Oliver was too goddamn nutty and unpredictable.

His hand moved to smooth the soft blonde hair back from the Blue Ranger’s face. Billy felt the charge in the air that sparked between them and his cheeks flushed shyly. All the uncertainty was making things happen at a faster pace than they would have if they could have gone along their natural course. Considering that they had never faced a foe as deadly as Tommy was proving to be, neither wanted to have regret.

Words were not needed once blue eyes met grey ones.

A sudden volley of passionate kisses and swarming hands was not something Skull expected from Billy. If anything, the punk was quite surprised that the Blue Ranger beat him to it. That evil asshole might liken Billy to an innocent, pathetic lamb, but there was a wolf hiding in this sheep’s clothing.

And he loved this unexpected contrast, seeing the meek, quiet boy ignite into full bloom.

Skull was more than happy to oblige Billy’s wild side as he no longer had to worry about frightening his boyfriend or if he was moving too fast. Time was a factor in their lives, looming over them like a Grim Reaper.

Scarred hands tugged at old black leather jacket, yanking it from the other man’s shoulders and down his arms before tossing it absently to the mulch below. They found their way to the hem of the faded orange t-shirt and worked it up and off to join the discarded coat below.

For once, Billy’s rational brain was offline.

Skull’s lips felt swollen from the deep, desperate kisses, the skin was his jaw to ear peppered with nips and licks before descending his throat in long sweeps.

“Fuck!” he couldn’t help but hiss, tilting his head back to give more access.

Where was this coming from? Billy had been holding back his human instincts for years, whether due to his shyness or the chaotic lifestyle of ‘Rangering’, and it begged for release. NOW.

Pulling Eugene’s face back down, those piercing eyes flashed with Grid energy, the Blue seeing the hints of Orange flashing in and out of existence, like a ghostly aura. Soul recognized soul, their places long cemented by forces beyond their control in the great vastness that comprised the mysterious, almost sentient Grid.

Fate or destiny or whatever you wanted to call it was not alone in making the decisions that shaped this world. The Grid was her chess partner in this friendly game.

Perhaps that is why it was so easy for the two new lovers to come together this way.

Breathlessly, Skull panted into Billy’s open mouth.

“Tell me what you want, Blue… I want to make you feel good, you deserve to feel so good…”

Without realizing what was going to tumble from his lips, the blissed out Ranger hissed painfully.

“Suck on it…”

He was too far gone to feel the embarrassment that he normally would have at uttering such crass and vulgar words, for desiring something so…so… primal.

But his boyfriend was more than eager to obey his strained wish, already sinking to his knees as he unzipped the pants confining an already engorged cock. His slim fingers slipped inside the waistband of the underwear and smoothly slid them down the smooth, muscular thighs.

Billy stared at the top of his dark hair as he moved and the moment his head passed the salivating lips, all thought was gone. He was fully flush with hormones and need and the way he needed this intimate moment with the man he loved.

Because in his heart of hearts, the Blue Ranger felt something ominous was on the horizon. Though no logic dictated this to be so, the Triceratops, the Blue energy felt the encroaching Green with its obsessive and monstrous force of will…

A more evil energy loomed, one unfamiliar but no less real…

Standing in the shadow’s a mere stone’s throw away, Tommy stood, watching the lovers. Of course, he knew the Rangers’ comings and goings. He even knew where they laid their heads at night. No reason to broadcast his knowledge because it wouldn’t matter in the end.

But this clandestine tryst revealed something he DIDN’T know.

‘Interesting… A new power for Little Red Riding Hood?’

He grinned in the darkness.

“We’ll see about that… I have a feeling things are going to go out of control…”

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Kamino

Clone Cadets being looked after by a Cuy’val Dar.

A/N: Finally got my first @clonexreaderbingo prompt done! Thanks to @a-single-tulip for inspiring 🥰 gonna drop this and go to bed, so hit me up if you see anything I missed.

Square: Kamino

Warnings: mention of blood, war, children, weapons, my own version of cadet training and fighting.

Word Count: 3666 😬

Cuy’val Dar: Those who no longer exist

Osik: Shit

Udesii: Calm down

Kandosii: Nice one

‘ika: Little

Buir: Father

The rain lashed against your window, raging in the howling wind like it was trying to reach you. Each patter was faintly heard whipping into the thick transparisteel only to dash out of existence. The whole of this facility was state of the art, designed to weather the harshest of storms, protected to the hilt from catastrophic waves and jarring winds that would sweep you off the platforms and out to sea.

Your alarm started to buzz, an irritated grating noise that you had learnt to block out.

Everyday here was the same. The routine was rigid, structured down to the very minute, so the clones that were under your care got the most from their lessons.

With a sigh, you hauled yourself from your bed, glaring at the bright white that assaulted your eyes every time you blinked. Thankfully what the Kaminoans were paying you for doing this daily osik was enough to keep you going. And the boys weren’t that bad. Really.

Your armour was stacked up in the ‘fresher. You had barely needed it the last couple of years, having your arms full of babies and small children rather than weapons and other people’s appendages before you cut them off. Clutching the sink you steeled yourself to keep going, every morning was the same drag but as the day wore on it got easier. Until you fell asleep and you had to start all over again.

Slipping on a new set of fatigues you slapped your cheeks in an effort to startle yourself awake, trying to get that sharpness back that had been dulled from being in this white washed, aiwha-bait, infested hell hole.

First things first—breakfast.

The kids were awake by the time you got to their room and it looked like Fox had woken up on the wrong side of his bunk today. None of them even noticed you’d entered, standing in a circle as they chanted fight, fight to the two kids in the middle, really going for it.

You cocked an eyebrow when Fox slugged a decent left hook into the side of Cody’s face but the kid didn’t go down. He was dazed and Fox took advantage of that, yelling as he launched himself at his brother and flattening him.

Honestly. All before they’d even eaten.

“Udesii!” You pushed your way through the boys, hauling the angry red faced nearly four year old off the other and putting him in a rugby hold on your hip.

The others backed up, their caramel brown eyes wide as you glared at them all and suddenly they remembered what to do. Lining up, shoulders back, standing rigidly to attention. Cody groaned from his position on the floor specks of blood dripping from his nose or lips, you didn’t know, you didn’t care. Not this early in the day.

“Get up.” You grabbed his collar and got a look at his face as he sniffed and smeared the blood across his cheek.

“I’m ok, Sarge,” but as he spoke you could see blood between his teeth and you sighed.

“Go and see Mij,” you told him, shoving him towards the door. You still had hold of Fox who had gone remarkably still in your hold, he hung heavily and you knew he was hankering to get down. Being held like this was probably humiliating. So you jostled him into a better position and walked up and down the line of the others.

They were all identical to someone who didn’t know them. Their eyes were the same shade, their hair had the same cut, they could swap clothes and all still look exactly the same. You could tell them apart though. Noticing the slightly different shade of Rex’s eyes compared to Cody’s. Or the browner colour of Keeli’s hair next to the deep black of Wilco’s. And their personalities were all sparks from the same flame, some just burned hotter than others or channelled it differently.

“Rex’ika.” One of the boys stepped forward, sneaking a glance at Fox who was turning even more red as he hung his head as low as it would go. “What happened?”

Instantly they all started gabbing at once and you held up a hand, silencing them instantly. “I asked, Rex. Speak.” He drew himself up taller, pushing his shoulders back and you saw the frown marking his face.

“I’m not entirely sure, Sarge. I woke up to the sound of a scuffle as they had woken up first. Their shouting woke the others and that’s…” his shoulders sagged slightly but then he steeled himself and carried on. “That’s when we all got up to watch them.” Fox was getting heavy now, so you dumped him on his feet and he stood sullenly with his head down.

“None of you saw what started it?” You asked and they all shook their heads. “Fox’ika.” Crouching to his level you prodded his shoulder and he lifted a hand to rub his arm. “Why?”

“Because he grabbed my collar so he could get into the ‘fresher before me!”

“And that was reason enough to make him bleed, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” he pouted. “I didn’t mean to but he just made me so angry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you got up.

“Anyone would think I’ve got a bunch of Nulls on my hands,” you breathed. “Come on. Breakfast. Chop chop or you’ll miss out.” You watched them file out, Rex in the lead with Howzer on his heels, followed by Thorne, Wolffe, Keeli, Grey, Fox, Wilco and Bly.

This group of ten troublemakers were your boys for another a year before they joined the wider ranks. You oversaw their training, taught them to look after themselves as well as each other. It felt like you were failing at that at the moment.

You followed them to the mess hall where they each grabbed a tray and chose what they wanted this morning, sitting in neat rows at their usual bench and you joined them, feeling Cody’s absence.

“You’ve lost one,” a deep voice said behind you and you turned in your seat.

“Thanks for that observation, Jango. You know, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Fighting again?” He sat down at your bench with his son. Boba was older than your boys, (if you went by their visual age) only by a couple of years, but you could already see Jango’s influence over him. He glared at your cadets who stared at the older boy with wide eyes as they chewed silently.

“One’s in the medbay,” you said, chucking a haughty look at Fox who didn’t cow under yours and Jango’s combined scrutiny.

“I see the aiwha-bait hasn’t ruined them completely,” he murmured.

“They could be worse, I suppose.” You tossed the bland food back onto the tray, making a point to raid Skirata’s room for some uj cake for the boys later. “Eat up. We’ve got deecee training in 5 minutes.” There was a collective scuffle as they quickened their chewing, these boys were always hungry and you wondered if they had enough to eat at all times. But if you faltered in their training, they failed in their tests and then it reflected badly on you and they got punished. And nothing broke your heart more than seeing your boys with tears in their eyes because they didn’t achieve their best and they were made to relive that.

Exactly on the hour, they were lined up, dumping their rubbish and slipping their tray into a stack before heading off to the training area. This one was set in the middle of Tipoca, each area blocked off so multiple groups could train at one time. You and the rest of the Cuy’val Dar, working together to make an army. An army of children.

The boys spread out, Cody slipping in at the last minute and taking his place next to Rex. Each deecee was in pieces on the ground before them. The challenge was to make the blaster, correctly, and take out the targets before anyone else. Take the blaster apart and move onto the next weapon. Rinse and repeat.

“Go!” You barked, not needing to prepare them before your order, they knew the drill. You paced up and down, pursing your lips as you watched their little fingers deftly put together a weapon that could fell a bantha with one shot.

You heard the whir as the first deecee charged up successfully and Wolffe was off. His aim was perfect, it had been since he looked two years old. Next to go was Fox. The challenge now was for them to work effectively together, aware of each other in the field while staying on their main objectives.

Keeli was next, sliding in on his knees as he clocked a shot on the first target. Bly and Howzer went together, automatically splitting and taking opposite sides. You looked across at Rex, his gaze was on the cadet next to him as he waited for Cody to catch him up so they could go together.

Eventually they were all in the maze of targets and you watched their scores on the screen, leaning easily against the wall. Wolffe and Fox returned, taking apart their Carbines and turning to the rifles.

Not a word was spoken and you honestly wondered if they communicated telepathically. Sometimes it scared you how in sync they were but when they had the same brain patterns, getting the same training, some similar behaviour was inevitable.

Wolffe clocked the best numbers today, Fox not far behind and the rest were all fairly evenly matched. You tried not to think how they would soon be doing this with live rounds. And they wouldn’t be yours anymore.

You pressed some buttons as they waited patiently for the room to change, the droid targets disappearing, being replaced with a weapons wrack.

“Pair up.” Your commands were needless but sometimes you just needed to hear someone say something. Even if it was yourself. “Today we’re using blades.” The boys put on their contact sensors and each took a knife from the rack. Fox and Thorne, Wolffe and Howzer, Rex and Cody, Bly and Wilco, Keeli and Grey all stood there looking at you. “Ready positions.” You activated their sensors with a touch of a button and you saw them all tense. “Begin.”

You watched the hits increase on the screen, seeing Howzer was coming out on top today and you felt a sense of pride. Thorne was beating Fox, which probably wouldn’t go down well. Usually those two were thick as thieves.

“Switch!” There was a groan, Keeli tipped his head back, making it obvious he didn’t want to switch from Grey. Fox pushed him causing the cadet to stumble which started another fight. Before you could move Rex and Howzer stepped in, kids being adults.

“Udesii!” You stressed for a second time today. Spreading your arms as you stepped between them. “What crawled in your fatigues and died today?” But Fox just glared at you. You thought he was going to spill whatever was troubling him, but then he lowered his gaze.

“Nothing,” he muttered, shrugging off Howzer.

“Fine. Continue.”

There were no more incidents. They went to lunch and ate in silence, shooting looks at one another as Fox concentrated on his food.

You hated the way the ration cubes coated your mouth in a chalky paste but you made a point of eating what they did in the mess hall. If only the Kaminoans would vary it every now and again. Maybe you could bring it up with Jango. He was the golden boy after all.

After lunch it was study time. They sat at desks and just absorbed. It really blew your mind the amount of information they went through everyday. Lists of species, equipment they’ll be using including their kit, so when they finally grew into it they’d know exactly what they were doing. Ships and their specs, droids and their functions—it just carried on and on flashing before their eyes. They talked now, shouting facts to one another, answering questions and relaxing a little.

You let them. As long as they stayed on topic you enjoyed watching their interactions. Occasionally you sat with them, answering what questions you could but already painfully aware their knowledge surpassed yours dramatically. You were just a supervisor until they went up to the next level.

Dinner was more relaxed, they talked, laughed and acted like children for a moment. It made you ache inside, knowing their lives were going to be so short, bred for a single purpose that could make their lives even shorter.

It was getting darker, not that you could tell on this infernal, cloud covered hellhole. You were walking the boys back to their quarters when you came across Rav and her clutch of lads with their noses pressed against the thick transparisteel. They sounded excited, gasping and giggling as they pointed outside and you let your boys blend in with hers.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

“Kal. He’s got his hands full,” she chuckled. You leaned to look outside, not seeing anything at first until you realised you were looking at a foot on the outside. Your eyes travelled up to see two young clones climbing the dome of the mess hall, in the driving rain.

“Kandosii!” You exclaimed with a grin, as Mereel caught your eye and gave you a quick wave. “Keep your hands on the line, boy.”

“I don’t know how Kal hasn’t died of a heart attack,” she muttered. “Come on, boys. Bedtime.” Her lads separated from yours and carried on walking in the opposite direction.

You led the way for your lot, listening to them talking about the Nulls like they were some sort of other species. But if the Nulls were causing mischief…it meant Kal’s room was empty.

“Inside…if I come back and you’re fighting or doing anything you shouldn’t, I will make you watch me eat Kal’buir’s uj cake. Got it?”

“Yes, sarge!” Came an excited, blended response and you nodded. Closing the door, you hurried off, keying in the code for Kal’s room and hoping he didn’t catch you red handed. Rather you’d let him assume it was his boys than you, not that he’d be mad. You just liked him wondering where all his food was going.

“Kandosii,” you whispered, dragging the sticky heavy cake out and slicing it up neatly. You were able to get five large chunks and halve them, pushing the cake back together so it didn’t look like any was missing. You’d done this way too many times. Wrapping up the slices you quickly exited his room and went back to your boys.

You found them sitting on their bunks, or sitting on the crate looking outside. Rex was happily swinging his legs over the edge of his bunk, a little smile alighting his face when he saw you return. They clamoured around you, excited whispers filled the room until they were all chomping happily. That would keep them quiet for a moment. But you had one slice left.

Fox was in his bunk, back turned to the room as he pretended to be asleep already. You even checked on him, putting a hand on his back and feeling him tense up.

“All right boys! Wash, teeth and then bed.” They took turns and you watched proudly until they were all settled in their beds. “Lights out,” you warned them, plunging the room into darkness save for the lightning that slashed through the room.

Back in your quarters you left the cake on the side. You debated eating it but something said, you were going to need it.

Sure enough, just as you started to doze there came a small noise at your door. Activating the panel it opened to reveal Fox standing with his hands behind his back. He scuffed the floor with his bare toes and refused to look at you.

“Come on then,” you sighed. He seated himself on the little sofa you had, his eyes watching every move you made as you put the cake on a plate and handed it to him. He didn’t take it and you gently sat beside him. “Fox’ika…you can talk to me.” His hands fisted in his lap and you gasped when he suddenly dived into your arms. His grip was tight and that’s when you noticed he was shaking slightly, so you put the plate down and hugged him back. Rubbing little circles along his shoulders as he quietly cried into your top. You murmured to him in Mando’a, letting him know he was ok while all the time hating this entire programme and what it was doing.

These boys had only existed for less than 2 years and already had seen and done more than the average human adult in their entire lifetime. The strain was immense, you knew because you could feel it, you saw it everyday. Just because they didn’t know any better didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle. They were human, real blooded humans after all and they needed some nurture amidst everything else.

“What happened with Cod’ika?” You finally asked when his emotions had slowed down.

“I was coming to see you,” he admitted straight away. “He was awake and saw me get up, I thought he was going to tease me…” he trailed off and you took a breath.

“So you punched him instead?” Fox sat up and rubbed his sleeve over his face, giving a shrug that told you everything you wanted to know. “Eat your cake.” He dived on the plate with relish, getting crumbs all over the seat but you didn’t care. Your attention was drawn back to the door and Fox looked at you with wide, scared eyes. “It’s ok,” you reassured him, slipping your blaster free of the holster that hung on the back of your chair. It was habit, to react this way, you didn’t trust the Kaminoans as far as you could throat them. You checked the safety and then punched the door open only to come face to face with a group of shining wide eyes.

“Is Fox’ika in here?” Wolffe asked, a slight scowl marking his brow. “His bunk is empty.” Howzer eyed your blaster with the gaze of someone who knew what he was looking at.

“A modified DE-10 pistol,” he rattled off.

“Yeah. Of course you knew that.” The safety clicked back on and they all exhaled as one. “Get in here before the aiwha-bait see you.” You checked the corridor and shut your door. The nine of them clambered onto the sofa, squeezing around Fox as he broke off tiny pieces of his cake and shared them with everyone. “Now, why am I getting the special treatment tonight?”

“We were worried,” Cody spoke up. “We thought Fox’ika got in trouble.”

“No one is in trouble,” you told them. Their companionship touched you and it made tears threaten to spring to your eyes. They fought like siblings, because they were siblings.

Their heads followed your motions as you crouched next to the sofa. “This, right here, I want you to remember it.”

“Why?” Asked Grey with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Because one day you’re going to be scattered. There’s going to be moments where you think nothing is worth continuing for. When you hit those dark moments I want you to think back to this, right here. The warmth in your chest,” as you spoke you prodded at Wilco’s chest and he suppressed a giggle. “The feeling of always having a brother at your side even when you fall out.” Now you prodded Cody and he had the decency to look slightly sheepish. “Because no matter what happens you will all have each other, through thick and thin, through the battles and the sickening distance. Nothing can break this bond you have.” They all looked at each other, Bly leaned into Thorne and rested his head on his shoulder, Rex put his arm around Fox and the rest huddled in for the embrace.

“I’m sorry, Cod’ika,” Fox spoke up unprompted.

“It’s ok,” Cody replied. “Made one of my teeth wobbly, see!” They crowded round to get a look at his tooth that barely moved but he looked so proud. You bet Mij had told him the punch made it wobbly to make him feel like it was worth it.

“Come on, you lot. I need to sneak you back to your room.”

“Can we stay here?” Keeli asked quietly but the rest didn’t say anything, just turning one by one to look at you with pleading eyes. How could you resist?

“Ok. Ok, make yourselves comfy.” You went over to your bed, surprised when they came over and clambered over the sheets to settle in bedside you. “Oh, you actually meant, here. With me.”

“It’s cold in our room,” Thorne said. “Reminds me of the tank.” The others all murmured in agreement and you closed your eyes, laying back against the pillow and having your arms spread so at least four of the boys could lay on them.

The others pressed in around you and soon enough they drifted off, becoming heavy deadweights that cut the blood supply off to all your extremities. Still, you’d rather face down the entire population of Death Watch than move any of these sleeping troublemakers from your side.

Lightning flashed like a jagged spike, thunder curling outside as it wrapped around Tipoca. You had already made a vow to make these boys the best of the best, but now it burned hotter than ever. They deserved to be Commanders, Captains, leading the charge with their Jedi Generals. These boys deserved the finest gear and the best chance of staying alive. And you were going to equip them with everything they needed to survive. Even when they weren’t your charges anymore, they’d always be your boys.

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Arc 4: Suffering

815 words

The dust settled gradually, making the stale air of the chamber even harder to breathe. Gethin stayed low, forcing himself to calm down before he faced his next challenge. He wanted nothing more than to find an easy exit from this bizarrely personal hell of a labyrinth, but he knew in the progressively sinking pit of his stomach that it was only going to get worse.

"You've made it further than I thought you would," a thin voice emerged from the darkness ahead, "The Mastermind promised you would be a tough nut to crack. I must admit I'm impressed, Gethin of Valenwood."

Gethin pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to cough.

"Who's there?" he called out, "Show yourself!"

"Very well."

Torches burst to life along the walls of the chamber, revealing it to be far smaller than Gethin could have hoped for, given its occupant. The tall Altmer who stood mere paces from Gethin wore loose, faded scarlet robes, emphasizing his unnaturally emaciated frame. His pale golden hair hung in lifeless strands around his long face. His cheeks were sunken and shadowed, his eyes an unnerving blood red. A chill gripped Gethin's spine as he realized what creature blocked his path to escape.

"Vampire..." he whispered, feeling a tremble enter his hands. He clenched them into tight fists to hide it.

"Indeed I am," the Altmer confirmed, "Quite ancient and skilled in the arcane arts, as you have seen from my welcome party, but fear not. I will not harm you until you have been given time to prepare to meet me in combat."

"I'm assuming this isn't optional," Gethin cautioned, not comforted in the slightest by the vampire's words.

"If you want the piece of the mask I guard, you must take it from me by force. I will give you time to find a suitable weapon, but when that time runs out, if you have not reached the final chamber, I will hunt you down wherever you hide and drain you of every drop of blood you possess. Have I made myself clear?"

Gethin swallowed, a lump of fear lodged in his throat, and an icy sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

"Perfectly," he answered, uncomfortably aware that the vampire could sense his every microexpression of mortal terror, "How much time do I have and what am I looking for?"

The skeletal Altmer gave what could be considered a smile, but its sinister intent was far too palpable.

"I will give you thirty minutes to find your way through the passages behind me, retrieve your weapon, and meet me in the final chamber," he explained, "This is more than enough time if you don't dawdle. You must select a weapon suitable to you - I cannot tell you which is the correct choice for obvious reasons. In the final chamber, you will find the piece of the mask shrouded in ash and blood. I will not restrain myself in guarding it. You will need to kill me if you want to escape."

"Sounds straightforward enough," Gethin commented, "I imagine there's a catch somewhere?"

The vampire glided towards him suddenly, faster than Gethin could blink. He towered over him, his sanguine eyes piercing through his very soul.

"Gethin. Has anything in your life been easy or straightforward? Have you ever been able to trust someone's word at face value? Have you not been betrayed by every person you believed in the most? Consider my task. I shall be waiting at the end."

Gethin froze solid as the vampire lingered, but managed to keep his voice steady.

"I have one more question for you before we begin," he said, "How do you know me?"

The vampire chuckled and reached into his robes, producing a bound lock of wavy, honey blonde hair, which he dangled tauntingly over Gethin's head. Gethin's gut wrenched at the sight of it. He would recognize that hair in any context.

Alaia.

"Aside from the research done on your history, I have been following your group at the request of the Mastermind for some time now," the vampire revealed, his voice somehow even airier than before, "I know you care for them, despite the front you put up. I know you care for Alaia most of all, and I will take great pleasure in tearing her apart should you fail here."

"Keep her name out of your filthy mouth," Gethin growled through gritted teeth, surprising himself with his burst of courage.

"Her name won't be the only part of her in my mouth if you don't hurry."

With that, the vampire vanished into a fine mist, which then swept into the doorway at the far end of the chamber and out of sight. Gethin's heart pounded hard against his ribs, his breaths becoming uneven and strained. He had to survive now, if not for his own sake, for Alaia's.