#he still spends most of his free time with the weirdos of course

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Danny gets bullied into joining the cheer squad sometime during junior year after Star sees him somehow do a backflip out of his locker.

He discovers he legitimately enjoys it and that the acrobatic/gymnastic practice helps with fights. Meanwhile the rest of the squad basically has a social reconning because Weirdo #1 is actually very cool and is practically responsible for them making country-wide finals.

[capn-twitchery]

hi this is @neathyingenue! your drawing of lt. grace and capt. twitchery was so dynamic and i would love to know more about their relationship if you'd like to share 👀

OHOHO rubs my hands together--you've activated my trap card >:3 (also thank you sm!! :D♥︎) SO-

short answer: their relationship is a complicated nightmare at best, and it changes a ton over time. they meet in weird circumstances, things stay weird for a long time, & they end up "together." what that means, i have no idea, bc i think they would die before they talked about it or said they were Actually Dating

long answer: they meet when twitch rescues a very nearly dead grace from the arctic. twitch thinks this poor guy looks very haunted, which is apparently interesting enough for them to reroute the entire ship so they have an extra couple months to hound him for secrets.

upon getting back to london, they want nothing more to do with eachother: twitch got all the secrets they could, grace wants to get far away from this weirdo, preferably as soon as possible, thanks

so they part ways, for a while. grace starts working with the constables (he thinks he can help people there. poor guy) they keep giving him the unwanted jobs: drag bodies back home, sort the paperwork, stand guard outside the cells because this new inmate is chatty and it's annoying everybody else and-oh, it's twitch. of course it is.

they get talking, since there's nothing else to do, and twitch is Very Persistent. they strike a deal: grace can use his connections to get twitch on the good side of the legal records, and in return, twitch will give him free zee trips when he needs it. twitch thinks this will be basically never, since grace has nothing going on, right? so they got the better end of this deal for sure-what do you mean he's on an unhinged revenge mission to murder a fucking master of the bazaar? oh, they have got to see this.

grace is too reluctant to zail himself, has no other contacts & doesn't know anything about the neath. twitch is his only real, consistent source, and they want to see & know everything about how it's going-- this is like the most interesting story in the world to them! so they're spending a lot of time together. a weird amount of time together, really, for two people who don't spend lots of time around any one person in particular.

and it's...kind of fun? sure, twitch is very unreliable, their weirdness is still offputting to grace, sometimes-- but less than it used to be. they're nicer than he gave them credit for, smarter, and their enthusiasm is infectious. and grace is very helpful, it turns out, and it's nice to have company in the captain's cabin, and making him smile instead of looking miserable all the time starts to feel kind of like an accomplishment, and- oh, no.

they both react to their feelings about as well as you would expect: ignore them! or in twitch's case, ask the ship's surgeon to surgically remove them (and get refused. cruel.) they both deny their feelings for a long time. it could never work anyway, right? they're far too different.

except, not really. grace later finishes nemesis, and after parting (somwhat bitterly) with twitch & a brief stint at the grand geode, he realises maybe the laws here fucking suck, actually--maybe he doesn't need to uphold them to help people. lucky for him, twitch has a hell of a rivalry with the admiralty & it's only a matter of time before they cross paths again. he deserts the admiralty in the midst of a naval battle, onto twitch's ship.

til i give either of them an ending, they stay together from that point--at least, as much as they want to. old habits die hard--twitch still likes zailing off to do weird shit, twitch is still a criminal, grace is very much not (more of a vigilante, i guess.) they still can't talk about what they are, they still clash sometimes. but they make it work! captain & (honorary) first mate.

(& twitch's crew breathe a sigh of relief. bc they've been waiting for their emotional brick wall of a captain to semi admit it for at least a year)

[thisfairytalegonebad]

"They don't care about you." - Whumptober day 2

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Character: Prompto Argentum Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Captivity, mild psychological torture

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

Prompto considers himself an optimist. He’s a glass-half-full kind of guy, he tries to see the best in everyone, and he firmly believes there’s something good to come from just about every situation.

He’s failing to find much good about his current situation.

It could be worse, he guesses. For the most part, he’s relatively uninjured. Yeah, he aches all over, and he was kind of bleeding from various injuries for a while, but even with his limited medical knowledge, he can tell none of them are fatal or likely to leave permanent damage. Most probably won’t even scar, and even if they do, well, scars are kinda hot, aren’t they?

Ardyn gives him water every now and then - Prompto has trouble telling the days apart, so he doesn’t know how frequently the water comes, he just knows that he’s usually pretty thirsty by the time he gets to drink.

He’s not been fed since Ardyn picked him out of the snow and brought him here, but he doesn’t think he could keep anything down anyway. His head hurts - a concussion, maybe - and it leaves him with persistent nausea that is just about manageable, but he’s not so sure he’d be able to stomach even Iggy’s food, right now.

So, it could be worse… but it sure could be better too.

Prompto’s always prided himself on being able to be alone. It doesn’t feel great, he’s naturally extroverted despite his anxieties and he prefers the company of people, but he’s not one of those people who can’t be alone with themselves. He can manage fine alone. He’s had enough practice, after all.

That was before, though. Before befriending Noct and gaining two big brothers as a bonus, before spending most of his free time with at least one of them at any given time, and before embarking on a road trip where they’ve been stuck in a tiny tent together more often than not.

Maybe he’s lost the ability to bear being on his own, now that he got to know something different.

Of course, he’s not truly alone - he’d be stupid to think so. Ardyn is watching him, if not in person then over some camera set up in his cell. Sometimes, he taunts him over the speakers, and in a twisted sort of way, Prompto’s almost glad for it when he does. It’s a reminder that he’s not dead yet, he’s not lost in his own mind, he’s still alive and existing in the same reality as everyone else.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t flinch every time the speaker crackles and Ardyn’s creepy voice echoes around his cell, though.

“Do you still believe they’ll come for you?” Ardyn purrs, sounding tinny and warped through the speaker which somehow just makes it even more unsettling. “Poor boy. So caught up in your delusions.”

Prompto grits his teeth and stares at the floor - he doesn’t have the energy to lift his head enough to stare at anything else. Ardyn’s been trying to put these thoughts into his mind from the moment he brought him to his cell.

Joke’s on Ardyn, though. Prompto’s own mind has been trying to feed him lies for as long as he can remember. It’s been hard to unlearn those ideas, and he hasn’t managed to free himself from all of them quite yet, but Noct’s friendship - all of their friendship, really - gave him something to hold on to, something to combat his own feelings of inadequacy. He’s not quite there yet, but he likes to think he’s come a long way, those past few years. Like hell he’s throwing away all of that hard work because some weirdo whispers things into his ear.

“They don’t care about you,” Ardyn’s silky voice tells him, and a younger, more lost Prompto would have believed him without question. “They’ve forgotten all about you.”

You’re wrong, Prompto thinks, just you wait. They’re coming, I know they are.

----

When they do come for him, Prompto is just coherent enough to tilt his head towards the camera, defiant and unwavering.

See? I told you so.

And then, he lets himself sag into Gladio’s arms, lets Ignis’ anxious hands check him over for injuries, lets Noct tell him how worried they were about him, and for the first time since he fell off that train, he feels warmth seeping back into his bones.

----

Read all of my Whumptober prompt fills here.

[symphonic-scream]

If you could tell me more about the P5 Inaba AU, that would be nice.

No obligation, of course!

This is bound to be months late I'm sorry

But. Here's more

This au predates me playing Persona 4. I still haven't. I've gone through the like. Minimum to save my file under "Pizza Slut". What I know comes from PQ and gathered info from a very dear and lovely friend of mine

That being said.

Joker is being sent to live in Inaba because his parents are. Having a time. And don't want their son around to, get in the way. Or something like that. No one is willing to take him in at first, but when money is offered to a young lawyer raising her sister, she's willing to pretend he's a cousin

He's unlucky he happens to show up right around the time murders take place

His new older cousins don't get along well. Sae is strict on Makoto but more lax with Joker, and the two rarely eat dinner in the same room. Makoto is clearly running on a thin wire, from her student council duties to spending her free time at June's for any sense of calm. And now. Her "cousin" is here

Most of the au is the goofy fun times of course. Instead of the Beef Bowl it's Big Bang Burger, a food truck run by a Good Father Kunikazu Okumura, and his one server is his lovely daughter Haru. Their tables have umbrellas painted like planets, and Haru wears her hair tied up at work

Yusuke has a weird thing for watermelons. He. Shows up randomly whenever there's one. He's the town weirdo, and all that

Oh also Futaba is Hatsune Miku. No room for change in that she's Hatsune Miku.

[curestardust]

Dust Watched: Black Clover

Genres: Shounen, Fantasy (Magic), Comedy, Action // 170 episodes

Jesus Christ. It’s over. I’m free.

So... if y’all were here in the crisp old year of 2017, you’d remember “Black Clover” being a huge meme, mainly because of Asta’s VA, who was a rookie and this was his first main role and his performance was hilariously bad. So then, why did I decide to watch BC anyway? Well, I was kinda craving some traditional Shounen and it was only 50 episodes long. Quite short for a Shounen! I’ll finish it quickly and it’ll be just a nice time waster haha, right? ....Right?

I don’t know if BC garnered much more popularity than initially thought but one day, the number 50 disappeared from its episode listing and now 5 years (for me) and 170 episodes later I’m left as a husk of a human being. Worst part? It was ACTUALLY starting to get good!

✧  story  ✧

The story is your usual Shounen affair. Asta and Yuno are orphans who are found in front of a church. They grow up together in a small little village in the Forsaken Realm of Clover Kingdom. Yuno starts using his Wind magic at an early age while Asta looks like the Liver King at the age of 10 because he believes that intensely working out will “awaken” his magic. They make a vow to become the “Wizard King” and at the age of 15 they both attend the ceremony to recieve their grimoires which are spell books that help enchance ones magic abilites. You could see this as a sort of “coming-of-age” ceremony.

Grimoires have leaves on them, with 3 leaf ones being the most common. Of course, Yuno is too special for that, and he recieves a 4-leaf grimoire (meaning he has insane magical potential). Meanwhile Asta gets umm, nothing. This is when he finds out that his magic has not manifested as he has none. He gets ridiculed, falls into depression for one episode, then comes into possession of a 5-leaf grimoire. These grimoires are extremely rare and are said to contain a Devil inside them. Nevertheless Asta takes what he can get, as the grimoire also gives him the power to negate magic.

The two of them then set off for the Noble Realm to take part in the Magic Knights Entrance Exam. The Magic Knights serve under the Wizard King and getting into a squad is a feat in and of itself. Of course, Yuno joins the Golden Dawn, the most prestigious one while Asta barely gets accepted into the Black Bulls, the one everyone considers the loser/weirdo squad. This is where their story splits and we spend most of our time with Asta and the Black Bulls as they go on missions.

I don’t have any problems with the set-up itself. It’s full of Shounen cliché’s but that’s fine! Doesn’t mean you can’t make the story your own! But that’s where the problems come in. The cliché’s don’t stop. 

I went back to rewatch the OP’s as it really has been quite some time since I’ve first seen the first arcs and that’s where I realized what the problem was with this anime. Around the first 130-140 episodes are ONE story building up to an honestly pretty mid climax. There’s a big enemy but actually he has a boss who is an even stronger enemy but actually they also have a boss who is an even stronger enemy but ACTUALLY THERE’S- repeat until the end of the arc. That, plus collecting some stones are the entire plot for 75% of the runtime. It’s boring! In a bubble the fights are great; all of them need a different tactic which keeps them exciting. The fillers are absolute boredom. I know they’re a Shounen staple but just because they’re fillers doesn’t mean you can get away with no effort put into them.

Worse, the next big arc after this one is GOOD! It’s REALLY good! And I have no idea why they stopped the anime at 170 episodes because it actually ends while this arc is still very much going on. So now I’m mad. I sat through the mediocre 140 episodes of this anime to finally get something good only for them to end it right when things were starting to get exciting. I don’t know if they caught up with the manga or whatever, and I know there’s at least a movie coming out but argghhhh.

I was also going to include a VERYYY long rant of all the problems I have with the world-building but it’s not worth it. One thing I’ll mention is the class divide. Peasants are seen as worthless by not only the nobles but also the commoners as they usually have the least powerful magic. That in itself is an okay set-up. What is NOT okay is that in flashbacks we’re shown that the 1st Wizard King was trying to fight this class divide. The current Wizard King is the 28th. NOTHING changed in that amount of time. Literally, how?? What?? Let’s see, if we say each King’s rule comes out to ~30 years on average that’s almost 900 years. It’s baffling. And there are multiple other times where the worldbuilding just makes no sense similar to what I just mentioned and it ruins immersion. Worldbuilding can make or break a Fantasy story and BC’s is very much surface level. It truly comes off as the mangaka just putting out the first thing he thought of but not believing that it’ll succeed long enough to need a well established ground to stand on.

✧  characters  ✧

Ast and Yuno’s friendship/rivalry, the mainstay of all Shounen protags, is the weakest I’ve probably ever seen. Due to them being selected to different Squads and the story mainly following Asta, Yuno barely gets any character development for the majority of the series. Their only interactions is also just them fist bumping when they meet, insulting each other in a bro way, then declaring that “I’ll become the Wizard King, you’ll see!” and they go on their seperate ways until another random chance encounter 30 episodes later where the same thing happens. I have nothing else to add. It’s just underwhelming.

But you’d think the Black Bull members would be interesting enough to help carry the show as they have the most screentime after Asta but they have the same problem as the worldbuilding. They’re all 1-dimensional characters whose entire personality usually revolves around one joke that gets repeated every single damn time they’re on screen. During the fights, they basically turn into different characters. There’s a sense of character growth and introspection that allows them to bring out more of their strength; but the second we’re back into filler territory, it’s back to square 1. The writer seemingly had no idea how to make these characters interesting without their gags so their growth are a complete roller coaster. It’s very dissapointing to see a character revert back to their old behaviour after a huge fight where their characters really shined. It’s also difficult to really see the true comradery between the squad members when they’re so one note. 

The randomly appearing and disappearing characters is another big complaint of mine. Villains turned good guys not turning up again is something I can let the anime get away with as most of them aren’t from the Clover Kingdom and so have no reason to stay in the vicinity. But the Black Bulls seem to have a weirldly high number of members who literally turn up out of nowhere with no foreshadowing just to help with the plot. Most egregious case of such a character is Zora; dude basically gets an entire mini arc for himself. Gets to show off his magic, we get his backstory, character growth, how he would work well within the Black Bulls and after he joins the squad the dude basically vanishes off the face of the Earth. Bring him back! What the hell is he doing while the others are on the verge of being killed off by the new villains! What was even the point of giving him so much screentime?? 

✧  art  ✧

Honestly, BC’s general art style is just kind of unappealing to me but that’s nor here or there as I’m more interested in the quality and animation. And that is... a mixed bag. Fight scenes obviously go hard. 99% of effort went into those, as it usually does for Shounens. Filler episodes can get quite ugly though, like hilariously so. The section of the anime that doesn’t exactly keep up with these rules is the episodes right after EP50. It’s quite obvious that additional episodes were requested quite late into the runtime and so you can see a significant drop in quality just overall for every episode for quite a bit. I don’t even want to imagine the crunch the staff had to do.

On a sidenote: they should’ve hired whoever was doing the OP’s as the art director. I couldn’t figure out for the longest time why the OP’s look so good, yet when we see the same scenes in the actual anime they’re underwhelming. Then it clicked; the colour pallette! BC’s colours are very washed out which just makes it boring to look at. But the OP’s are the exact opposite. Stark colours, interesting compositions... I’m honestly on the verge of tears just thinking about how good BC would’ve looked with that style.

✧  sound ✧

So what of Asta’s VA, Kajiwara Gakuto, whose performance propelled BC into memedom with just one episode? Since then he has banked himself a few roles here and there, most impressive of which is Shinra, the MC of “Enen no Shouboutai”. His improvement cannot be understated. I didn’t even realize it was him for quite a while. And that’s all well and good but I still don’t think he should’ve been thrust into the limelight with such a difficult role as Asta. We can admire his improvement but it’s still a fact that at least the first 30 episodes of this anime still has his rookie scream-talking before he managed to find a good balance between the two. 

One thing I absolutely have no complaints of is the OP/ED songs. Shounen OP’s always go really hard and it’s no exception for BC. 

✧  overview ✧

Despite its rocky start, “Black Clover” has managed to amass a small but rabid fanbase. Or rather, for that reason. As fans’ most often cited reason for why they like BC is its Grand Improvement that it showed during its runtime. However, if I look at the big picture, while BC’s improvement is definitely worthy of praise, the anime started 10 steps behind other Shounens and, in my opinion, it only managed to claw its way up to the starting zone. An anime needing ~140 episodes to get to the level that most other Shounens START at isn’t that impressive in my eyes. Due to that, I could never find myself recommending BC to anyone. There’s just too much garbage you need to ignore til you get to the actually good part.

My Rating: 4.3/10

[kadiraksoy]

Name: Kadir Aksoy Location: Celestial Hills Gender/Pronouns: Cis Man, He/Him Age: 238 Place of Birth: London, England Occupation: Owner of Sucré and Puck’s Luck Faceclaim: Alperen Duymaz Species: Vampire Clan Position: (soon to be) Second-In-Command Age at Transformation: 30

Quick Facts (Blood TW): 

The bastard child of a high-society mother, Kadir was born in secret and then raised by his father, a poor fisherman. As a teenager, he began working at a gambling house, learned his boss was a hunter, and was indoctrinated into the world of the supernatural. After falling in love with a witch he was investigating, he was killed and turned by a vampire he was hunting.

He hated what he’d become for years and will often go on cycles of not-drinking, followed by blood-lust binges when he finally snaps. 

He owns two businesses in town, Puck’s Luck and Sucré. He knows a lot about gambling and almost nothing about baking. The last time he was in town was six years ago, briefly, to set up Sucré.

He’s been popping in and out of Lunar Cove (officially) since the 90′s, but he was that weirdo checking it out from the shadows periodically for decades before that. He has never stayed in town more than a few years at most. 

He’s been in love twice, two very serious relationships, both of which ended badly, and is now very anti-feelings.

Technology? Never heard of it. He is a grumpy grandfather when it comes to the twitters and the instagrams. He still hand-writes letters, pays in cash, and no, he probably doesn’t understand that reference. 

He loves fishing and he’s had a boat docked for years that he’ll now be spending all his free time fixing up again.

Possible Connections:

Connections around the world: Kadir is an old man who has been traveling the world for two centuries, so if your character ever lived somewhere else, we could definitely make a connection of it.

Employees: Both his businesses are run by competent managers, so Kadir is that owner you’ve probably never actually met before, until suddenly mr. boss man is back in town.

Fight Club: As a human, Kadir used to compete in underground fights for money. As a vampire, he still engages in fighting competitions, but now only with other supernatural beings (gotta keep it fair) 

???: I’m open to all the things 

Full bio under the cut!

Trigger Warnings: Murder, Suicide Attempt, Terminal Illness, Gambling, Blood

Kadir was born a child of two worlds, and it became very clear very quickly which side would win out. Though his mother came from a family of great renown in London, when she fell in love with his father--a poor fisherman and trader--their affair lasted only a few short weeks before she was found out and forbidden from seeming him again. When her family learned that she was pregnant, they did all they could to marry her off as soon as possible in hopes of passing off the child as her future husband’s. Unsuccessful, her family sent her away to hide the pregnancy instead and, once the child was born, gave him to his father with enough cash to buy his silence and his promise never to contact the family again.

And so Kadir grew up on the docks, helping his father with the ship, learning to work the nets and to trade fish in the market. The hush money paid to his father was enough to buy a small house fit for two and a better boat, and for a time, they lived comfortably--not in the mansions his mother roamed, now married off to another man of high society, raising three “proper” children who would be given all the right clothes and tutors, music lessons and etiquette courses--but they had enough to get by, to be happy. Kadir never even imagined a life of more and, as his father had told him his mother died in childbirth, the idea of a spurned inheritance was completely foreign to him. Then, when he was fourteen, Kadir’s father fell ill. Unable to work and with all their extra cash going toward medicines and treatments, their savings began to dry up. The fish Kadir was able to catch sold for barely enough to get by, and soon Kadir was finding other jobs to make ends meet. He ran various errands for neighbors until one day, he met the man who would change his life forever: Edwin Calstock.

A successful, well-dressed, fast-talking man, Edwin Calstock owned the most exclusive gambling house in the city, and when he took Kadir under his wing, Kadir thought he was the luckiest kid in the world. For the next few years, Kadir worked at Edwin’s side, running various errands, working the door, then the bar. As time went on, Edwin let Kadir in on more and more of the business, trusting him with larger projects and more responsibility. Then, when Kadir was eighteen, his father died, finally succumbing to his long-term illness, and Edwin became even more like a father to Kadir, allowing the boy to sleep in the flat above the casino. Finally, when Kadir was twenty-one, Edwin let him in on the biggest secret of all: that behind one successful business was another.

Edwin explained to Kadir the unbelievable: that their city was plagued with magical beings, vampires and werewolves and witches and more. Edwin and his associates had made it their business years ago to rid the world of such dangers and keep their city safe, and they now offered Kadir a spot beside them. Kadir had gotten into more than his fair share of fights on the docks and over the years, had realized that fighting could even be profitable, having joined more than a few underground fighting rings to make some extra cash. But hunting was like nothing else he’d ever done before: more intense, more time-consuming, and far more brutal. On his first assignment, Kadir was sent out with several of Edwin’s best men; together, they corned a vampire who had been terrorizing the city for months. They handed Kadir the stake and told him to prove himself, to make his first kill, that it was all to protect the innocent. But Kadir couldn’t do it. He froze, the stake shaking in his hand, and watched as the other men attacked the vampire without him, staking her in the heart before she could get away.

Kadir went back to the gambling house after that, doing his normal jobs and continuing his training. Another year passed before Kadir gave him a second chance to prove himself: follow the rumors of supernatural events within London’s elite. Edwin sent him to the Pleasure Gardens, a popular amusement park in which anyone from any social status could attend if they could afford entry. It was there he first began to observe the behavior of London’s finest, searching for the threat. Instead, Kadir met a woman that stopped him in his tracks. He was almost positive he had never seen her before, and yet there was something about her that was like looking in a mirror: his eyes, his nose.

The second she saw him, the woman burst into tears and embraced him. You look just like your father, she told him. By then, Kadir was twenty-five, and his mother’s new husband had been gone for several years. Her eldest son, the head of the family now, was married off, but the younger children--a boy and a girl--were at home, preparing to partake in the next season. His mother insisted on making up for the years apart and invited him to several high society events, sending him first to the family’s tailor to be dressed properly and then for rapid lessons in etiquette. But it became very clear, very quickly to Kadir that this was not his life, not the place he fit in. The clothes all fit wrong, and he stumbled over the dinner formalities. The dances were like none he’d ever practiced in the clubs he’d attended--all too stiff and without passion. The conversations all went over his head in seconds.

Kadir allowed himself to be dressed up and paraded around--the scandalous bastard son--for only two nights before he snuck out the back of the ballroom and never came back. He continued to go to the Pleasure Gardens, however, because there, he didn’t feel so out of place, and it was during one of these nights, when he was dodging his mother and keeping an eye--and ear--out for rumors of supernatural activity, that he began to pick up on rumors of a magical family and a young witch. Kadir reported back to Edwin at once, excited to be on the right track finally, to feel like he had purpose and a goal. High-society would never be his life, but he could do this. He might not revel in the kill, but he loved the hunt, the mystery, the searching and putting together of clues. He had no idea how that job would change his life, but he did know, the second he set eyes on the might-be-witch, that he was in way, way over his head. It was impossible not to fall for Meena Raja. Kadir might have told himself--again, and again, and again--that he was spending so much time with her simply to make absolutely sure of what he suspected, to get proof that she was really using magic, and to see if she could lead him to more beings like her. But the truth was, Kadir was falling for the woman, and he was falling fast.

During this time, Kadir was still unsure if Edwin had the right idea about things. The more he got to know Meena, the more he wondered if maybe the supernatural wasn’t really as bad as Edwin thought it was. Then he met Theordore Moore. Theodore was a regular at the gambling hall, and in time, Kadir came to know him as the man he had to kick out night after night. Soon, Kadir was tasked with kicking Theodore out before he could even make it through the front doors, and the next time Kadir would see him would be in the early hours of the morning as he fought with Edwin about repaying his longstanding debts. Then, one day, while Kadir was cleaning up after a long night, he heard screams from the back room. Mop still in hand, he hurried to the scene only to find a true horror laid out before him. Edwin and five others, men Kadir had worked with day in and day out, men who had become like fathers to him in their own right, lay now in puddles of their own blood, eyes open but unseeing. Above them stood Theodore, his mouth dripping, fangs still peeking out from between his lips. On instinct, Kadir snapped the mop he was holding in two, crafting a makeshift stake like he’d been taught to, but it was too late. With a bloody grin, Theodore was gone.

From that moment on, the threat became real to Kadir. Whatever he’d thought was possible, whatever fairytale magic he’d been imagining, it was all a rouse. The supernatural, just like Edwin had always warned him, was dangerous, deadly. Now, with everything he’d ever known gone, Kadir sought out his mother for help. He would not become part of her world, but if she still wanted to help, he had an idea now: she could give him the money he needed to take over the gambling house and help Edwin’s dream live on. His mother agreed, and Kadir took on the business himself: both businesses. For when he wasn’t running the hall, he was training, searching, on the lookout for any hint of what had become of Theodore Moore. In the meantime, he continued to see Meena. He had learned his lesson about trusting magic, but perhaps she was the exception, not the rule. His heart tugged him in two directions, and one would always lead right back to her. Night after night, he would meet her in secret, and day after day, he would prepare tor the next fight. Next time he met Theodore, he would be ready.

But he wasn’t ready. The vampire was faster, stronger, and in the end, none of his training meant anything. As he lay in the alleyway, bleeding out, his life flickering away, he remembered hearing her voice, remembered her hands in his hair, remembered blinking up toward the sky and seeing her face instead. At least she would be the last thing he saw. At least, he would be with her for his last moments on Earth. And then he woke up, not just covered in blood, but hungry for it. Starving. He stumbled away, stumbled back home. He would not feed. He would not become a monster like Theo was. Determined to ignore the hunger, Kadir planned to lock himself at home and wait for death to come, but hour by hour, the hunger grew. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, except that the sun was rising and there was a knock on his front door, a familiar voice calling out to him. He didn’t remember much of what happened next. For the next thing he knew, Kadir was kneeling over his mother’s pale, drained body. She must have come to bring the money, come to help him; Kadir couldn’t remember. All he knew was that she was dead, and it was his fault. He was the monster now.

Horrified at what he’d done, Kadir attempted to kill himself, only to wake up a few hours later, perfectly fine. He stayed inside that day, hating himself, hating Theo, hating Meena for making this deal for him. And then, the next night, when the sun had finally set, Kadir took his things, the money his mother had given him to keep up Edwin’s business, and he fled town. In a way, he had always been a creature of the night, used to sleeping in the day and working when the moon was at its peak. He was used to skating the law, doing what it took to survive. And now that he’d crossed that line--the line he’d feared for so long: taking a life--there was little to hold him back. He started up a new business in another town. The business grew, and the decades passed in a blur of booze and blood.

Kadir knew about Lunar Cove, of course. For years, he did all he could to stay away from his sire and to keep from ever again seeing Meena. Those were lost years for Kadir, a haze of his own self hatred and his hatred for the world. Kadir’s bloodlust was particularly strong, and his resistance to feed would often leave him in a dangerous cycle: starving off blood, trying his best to resist, only to lose control all over again. One night, Kadir was out with a few other vampires, determined to do things right this time--simply catch and release, drink, compel, and let go--but the vampires he was with had other ideas. These particular vampires drank fae blood and had corned a pixie. When Kadir realized what they intended--not just to drink from but kill the fae--Kadir did not drink from him but stepped in to protect the man instead.

From that day on, he offered the man, James, a place of protection at his newest establishment, a gambling hall in which James was tasked with keeping the luck on the side of the house. In exchange, Kadir would protect him from the vampires who were hunting him. For the second time in his life, Kadir fell in love, and the years that followed were some of the happiest he’d ever had. He learned to feed safely, taking only what he needed and never killing to survive. For nearly a century, they lived together, traveling the world, changing towns every few decades before anyone could notice that they’d both stopped aging. It was James who convinced Kadir to go to Lunar Cove. He wanted to settle down, to stop running, to stay, finally, in one town for good. In the 1950′s, they moved together to the little town, and for the first time in over a century, Kadir came face to face again with Meena and Theodore.

In those years, Kadir did what he did best: he opened a casino, Puck’s Luck, and for a time, that was enough. Some days, he could even see Meena and not feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Some days, he could see Theo and not want to finish the job he’d failed to do all those years ago--a feeling at war with a sort of horrible, instinctive pull toward the man, his sire. But Kadir had learned not to stay in any place for too long. After years of running the casino successfully--with the help of a pixie by his side--he grew restless, and so they left town and did not return again until the mid 1990′s when they decided, finally, it was time to go back.

James, as it turned out, had always wanted to open his own bakery and had spent the last century teaching himself recipes, Kadir serving as his taste tester. Once they had settled in, reclaimed their vacant house, and got things organized with Puck’s Luck--which seemed to have been doing fairly well in their absence--they would open a bakery in town. But the two never got that far. Just before they were set to fly back to Rhode Island, they were attacked, and after a century of protection, Kadir failed in his job. James was killed by vampires, though in his last seconds, he chose to regenerate, vanishing into thin air to be reborn who knows-where. Kadir hadn’t killed in a century, but that night, he killed without hesitation.

Kadir could not bear to go back to Lunar Cove, to pick up that life with all the plans they’d now never finish. He continued to travel the world for several years, checking in on the casino from time to time, but otherwise avoiding the little haven that might, this time, have been his final home. And so the haze started again. Another love lost. Another decade spent in grief and hate, in violence and blood. Those were years without any sense of control, no sense of right or wrong, no plan. And then one day he woke up and saw the mess of his life he’d made yet again, and once more, he found himself on Lunar Cove’s proverbial doorstep, ready to put the pieces back together. He didn’t need another business, of course--after all those years, he had plenty of cash to spare--but this time, Kadir did as he promised: he opened James’ bakery, even if James wasn’t there to see it. He played nice with Meena and Theodore--or as nice as he could--but again, the restlessness came.

Maybe it was the old heartache of seeing Meena every day, maybe it was living in a town Theodore controlled. Maybe it was the crazy hope that he’d find James, reborn and thirty-something now, though Kadir knew he would not remember him--but again, Kadir couldn’t stand to stay in town. He knew little about running a bakery anyway, and so after finding Beatriz Ramos and leaving the business in her more than capable hands, he departed again from Lunar Cove. It was years later that he heard about Theodore’s death, though heard was hardly the right word. He felt it. Felt it like he’d been stabbed in the heart. But even then, it was many months before he came back. Back to check on his businesses, to check on Meena, and to maybe, just maybe, stick around for once.

[antibioware]

Deltarune and Escapism

Alright now that my hands have finaly stopped trembling and my eyes aren’t burning anymore, time to write my two cents about the new chapter and the reveal that the mysterious “Knight” who has been opening the worlds is Kris themselves, while being free of their soul.

I’m not surprised that people automatically assumed that Kris is doing it because they’re “evil” or what the fuck ever, because even back in 2018, without any whatsoever no mercy route available or true hints beyond a 3 seconds cutscene, people were already giving Kris the Chara treatment.

My personal thoughts about why Kris keeps doing it is actually very simple: they’re using the Dark World as a mean to escape reality.

Kris doesn’t appear to be living a particular easy time in their life. Their brother just went to college, and both from their internet searches and from general talks around town, it’s very evident that Kris misses him fiercely.

On top of that, their parents divorce seems to have happened very recently and they’re stuck in the middle of it (with Asgore using them as a bridge to give Toriel flowers, for example) and their social life doesn’t seem to be  the best: Toriel is pleasantly surprised in Chapter 1 to discover Kris is spending time with a friend, and by many they’re considered a weirdo.

So what happens when a teen who doesn’t have the best life creates a parallel “pretend” world were they’re a hero and have friends who love them?

If Dark Fountains are caused by a Lightner stabbing the Earth with a knife, it’s not hard to imagine Kris, who apparently has a personal knife, doing it on either  accident or curiosity. Back at the beginning Chapter 1, when the door “changes” in front of Susie and Kris, their instinctive reaction outside of player control is to take a step back, which could easily mean that they were scared, but it could also mean that they could have caused whatever was going on inside and were scared of seeing what it was.

The fact that the Dark Worlds have been so far used as escapist fantasies is also proved by the fact that all the Lightners who have been under are also teens who are having a rough time in their everyday life:

Susie is someone who’s considered a violent bully, has no friends and she’s hinted so far as not having a great home life, between the way she reacts to getting her own room in Ralsei’s castle, as well as her reation to Toriel being nice to her and also her accepting to sleep over while only pretending to call back home to alert she was sleeping at a friend’s house.

Noelle allows people (Berdly) to push her around because she’s afraid of standing up for herself and make her own choices (this is also highlighted by the Snowgrave route), and back home she has only a too busy, too harsh mother, due to having an (apparently dead) absent sister and her father stuck in the hospital with an unknown illness.

Berdly made his own life harsher by pretending to be something he’s not and now he’s slowly being crushed under the weight of adult expectations for him, and due to that he ends up taking merit for stuff Noelle does and speaking over her, despite the fact that he seems to genuinely care for her.

All of which seem to thrive in the fun settings of the Dark World, despite being in a situation of danger and the ups and downs of the plot (this without considering the Snowgrave route). It’s exactly why in the end Ralsei has to intervene with the Legend in order to convince them to return to the world above, while they were dead set on creating new Dark Fountains.

Now, Kris may be possessed most of the time during their time in the Dark Worlds, but they still seem to appreciate the good they get from it. It’s Kris themselves, without player control, who moves to save Susie in Chapter 1 and tells Toriel they have made a new friend. It’s Kris who changes the verbal inflection of some of the dialogue options the player uses in order to let others know they’re either joking or insincere.

It’s also Kris who makes the decision, outside of player control, to create another Dark Fountain.

Escapism is one hell of a drug, after all. You can’t blame the kids for wanting to be somewhere they can be themselves without being judged, or even be with people that irl tend to avoid them, or where a loving character who vaguely resembles your missing older brother is. So they make more worlds, for better or worse, because it could easily be that a fantasy world were you’re manipulated in your actions seems better than your actual life.

I say for better or worse, because a thing that the Snowgrave route pointed out to me is that there’s some levels of player control that Kris can experience. While you can say there are actions in the regular game when Kris does things out of their free will, in the Snowgrave route there aren’t. There’s no bit in the game were Ralsei gets to speak alone with Kris while the player is occupied looking at Susie, you stop getting dialogue options and instead Kris turns silent. Noelle also says that the voice who was ordering her around wasn’t Kris’, but rather something else entirely, which means that Kris, when obliged to Do All That Nightmare Stuff, wasn’t in any way in control of themselves. It could be said that while Kris was manipulating Noelle into hurting others, the player was manipulating Kris into believing that hurting others is all fine too, because the Dark World isn’t real, after all. It’s natural to want to hurt others. It’s just a game.

In which case, of course, Kris still wanting to open up a new Dark World the moment they’re out of player control takes a MUCH darker meaning.

tl;dr Kris is creating the Dark Fountains for themselves to escape their current life, and it’s not because “they’re evil”, but to keep having adventures with friends OR because the level of player control they’re experiencing makes them believe being violent to others in the world under is justified and fun.

[thetoadghoul]

Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

[kamotoshi]

reminders [fushiguro tōji x reader]

pairing: fushiguro tōji x fem reader

genre: fluff

warnings: a bit of swearing; brief mentions of past trauma, manipulation, and financial instability/struggles

word count: 2.3k

overview: a sunset picnic reminds him to stop for a moment and remind his wife how he truly feels about her

note: just another fic to serve as evidence for my obsession with making big, beefy 2d men with tough exteriors completely soft for their significant others (wives especially)

“Aren’t we just the cutest couple ever?”

Tōji’s eyes move from the spread of food laid out across the patterned blanket beneath the two of you over to either side of him, where a few other couples and families have set up their picnic spots for the evening, then, to your phone. A glance at the screen displaying the timed photo you’d just spent the past five to ten minutes setting the scene for and perfecting brings a smirk to his face.

“Just the right amount of nauseating.”

“Like, to the point where people are a little envious, but they don’t think we’re being too over the top, right?”

“Right.”

You hum in understanding as you pop a piece of fruit into your mouth.

“But, I would say err on the side of caution and don’t post the super lovey-dovey ones. Actually, please don’t. That’s a request now.”

Your hand flies to your chest to match the look of feigned shock on your face at his words. He doesn’t miss how the diamond on your finger sparkles in the amber glow of the setting sun. The thought crosses his mind that he wants to buy you a bigger one when he has enough money to set aside—something that would shine just a bit brighter. Almost as brightly as that beautiful smile of yours he had the pleasure of seeing each day, if he was lucky.

“You mean… I can actually post a picture that I took with my notoriously elusive husband?”

With a nod, he shifts his gaze to the horizon—or whatever he can see of it peeking around the sides of each building—for a moment. “Just know it’ll probably end my job,” is his response given with a sigh, “Nobody’ll fear me after they see that I enjoy sunset picnics with my adorable wife, now, will they?”

“Or,” you offer with a grin, scooting closer to him so his arm can snake around your waist, “it could give you an advantage, people thinking you’re kinda sweet. Like, oh, he’s a cold-blooded killer who takes care of business, but he’s got a soft side, too. And then, bam! You swoop in and they’ll never even know what hit ‘em.” Sweeping a hand dramatically across the landscape in front of you, as if you want him to picture the scene in your head, you add, “Suddenly, you’re the talk of the town. Women want you. Men want to be you. Hell, they’d probably want you too.”

“And that’s the story of how I end up on the front covers of magazines, right?”

“Exactly. This is just the start of your success story, baby.” Tenderly, you place a hand on the side of his face to bring it closer to your lips. After pecking him on the cheek, you whisper, “Just try not to forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”

He turns to look directly at you, his eyebrow raised with incredulousness in an expression you’ve seen many times before. “You kidding me? I would never. Be famous, I mean.”

The teasing smack you land on his chest doesn’t deter him from leaning down towards you to press a kiss against your lips that you readily return in spite of your complaints at his devious comment. He relishes in the sweet taste lingering on his tongue when he pulls away, and the affection present in your half-lidded gaze brings a comforting warmth over him akin to the feeling of finally crawling into bed after a long day. In his moment of distraction, you’re able to sneak in another meeting of your lips before grabbing one of the snack boxes you’d meticulously crafted and dropping it into his lap.

“Since I’m nice, unlike you, I’ll still let you eat the food lovingly prepared by your loving wife.”

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, giving your thigh an appreciative squeeze, “You know I love you.”

“I mean, I hope you do. You did marry me, and stick with me all these years, after all, you weirdo.”

He chuckles and pats your leg before shifting his attention to the delicious food you’d put together for the two of you, and you settle down beside him after collecting your own. His free hand plants on the ground beside your opposite hip, closing the gap between you.

Each day that he gets to spend with you he’s thankful for. But there’s something different about those where the sight of the sun slowly descending toward the horizon is beautiful enough to draw both of you out of the house to sit and watch it. He can’t quite explain it, but everything about these days feels different. The harshness of the city seems to fade away for a bit. The air smells sweeter. His breaths come a bit more deeply. The absence of your body against his in some way is felt more intensely.

In between gazing ahead at the sunset—allowing his eyes to flicker to his meal, the kids zipping past every now and then on their bikes, or other passersby—he finds his attention being drawn back to you. Each feature of your face bathed in the golden light of the sun’s last rays brings an unexpected flutter to his heart. He’s never surprised by how gorgeous you are, but, still finds himself in awe of just how lucky he is each time he stops to take it all in.

Lucky that he gets to wake up next to you and see you in those quiet moments of the morning when your eyes are still struggling to focus and your cheek is stamped with each wrinkle of your pillowcase, but you look beautiful all the same. Lucky that the arms and legs he has draped around him until you both wake up sweaty in the middle of the night are yours. Lucky to be offered a refuge wherever you are. Lucky you’re one he promised to love for the rest of his life.

In the busyness of your days, sometimes things are assumed rather than said. He assumes the parting kiss he presses to your lips each time he leaves the house translates into a small, “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” Just like he assumes the way he pulls you onto his lap while you’re sitting together, watching a movie, sends a small message of, “I need you here, close to me.” Or the pause he takes to gaze into your eyes after your more passionate displays of affection means, “I love you more than I know how to say.”

He realizes, given the risky nature of his work, that thought alone isn’t enough, though. Maybe he’s too afraid of saying something that’ll curse you for his lips to form the words he’s thinking as often as they should, but if he was one to let his life be ruled by fear, he wouldn’t be sitting with you in the first place. He would’ve let his family wreak havoc on him for the entirety of his life, weighing it down with constant reminders of his failures. He would’ve let his fear of being vulnerable keep him from getting close enough to you to fall in love with you.

Yet, here he is, making relaxed conversation with you—his wife—as the two of you sit together beneath a sea of brilliant oranges, candied pinks, and the gentlest hues of lavender. With the way you use your steadily built and strongly maintained trust in him to speak so freely and be so vulnerable without fear of judgment, he feels it’s only fair that he shows his trust in you by doing the same. That he reminds you of his feelings rather than lets the implications behind his actions speak for him.

When he decides to mention it, most of the sky has lost its fire and quite a few of the other picknickers have packed up and returned home. But the two of you choose to remain out just a bit longer in the warmth of the summer night, bathed in the sound of cicadas chirping incessantly. “Hey babe?” he calls, giving your hand resting in his a gentle squeeze as his cheek drops to the blanket so he can look at you.

“Mm?” You shift onto your side and scoot closer to him, moving your interlaced hands to your chest, holding the back of his against your gently beating heart. On instinct, your other set of fingers find his face to brush a few strands of dark hair away from his eyes, and he presses feathery kisses to your palm.

Sighing against your skin, he asks, “Do I tell you I love you enough?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you assure him, “I know you do.”

“Because I say it?”

You hum with uncertainty, fingers gliding from the scar at the side of his mouth down his neck, and to one of his broad shoulders. “More because I can see it in the way you look at me. But, then again, I also see you look at a really good meal the same way. Makes me kinda jealous sometimes,” is your answer given with a small, teasing smile, “Besides, I feel like I can safely assume that you’ve stayed with me all these years because you love me, right?”

“Of course,” he says, the strength in his voice contrasting the subtle, pained look behind his eyes, “But I don’t say it enough, do I?”

There’s a short pause before you murmur, “Not usually unless I say it first. But it tends to be more of a reflex for both of us, anyway. Like, ‘I’m heading out now, love you!’ or, ‘Goodnight, I love you,’ y’know?”

A gentle tug on your wrist pulls you towards him, until you’re propped up on both elbows, body leaning over his. Wrapping an arm around your waist brings your chests flush against one another and your faces mere centimeters apart. The way he’s regarding you as nothing else is as important as you are to him in this moment has you melting into the kiss he plants on your lips.

“You’re the love of my life.” Heat radiates from your chest all the way up to your face at his tenderly spoken words accompanied by his thumb skimming along your cheekbone. “And you deserve to hear me tell you how much I care about you more often because you’re the only person who’s made me feel deserving of love.”

The hand on your back slowly moves up and down, his fingers tracing along your spine. It was once deemed as a mindless behavior in your eyes, but after many years with him, you’ve come to learn that sometimes it’s a means of comforting himself or finding the courage to speak about something that’s been on his mind. To reassure him, you place a soft peck against the corner of his mouth and run your fingertips across his jaw.

He seems to find the strength he needs to speak the rest of his truth, since he continues, “I remember being terrified when I first realized how much I loved you. Because here I was, thinking I was only gonna marry someone as a way of erasing my connections to my family, and that falling in love would weaken me—make me easier to be manipulated—but you changed my mind. And I don’t think there’s a damn thing that could ever happen to make me wish I did things differently, even though we got married young, when we barely had enough money to our names to get ourselves through the week.”

A pang of somewhat bittersweet nostalgia ripples through you at the memories of sleeping on the floor, clinging to one another to keep warm during the cold, winter nights. Of how you’d both worked so tirelessly to make a living that sometimes all you’d do was cry into his shoulder when you got home. But soon, there was a couch. A bed. A table. A lamp that didn’t flicker. Then, a new place in a safer part of the city, filled with all the furniture and appliances you could need. Jobs that paid enough for the tears to subside.

The impulsiveness the two of you had displayed in your early twenties had gotten you into a lot of sometimes unbearable situations, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing had you somehow been granted the power to alter the past. While unpleasant, those events had helped the two of you get to where you are today, happier and more in love than ever.

“After all we’ve been through, and that you’ve stuck with me through, I at least owe it to you to remind you how much you mean to me instead of just assuming you know. Because you really do mean the world to me. So, this is me telling you that I love and appreciate you a lot more than I might feel capable of saying sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.”

With that same, bright smile of yours that he adores, you take your weight off your elbows to wrap your arms around him while he gives your body a tight squeeze in return. “I love you so much, Tōji,” you hum, heart swelling with joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

There’s a few moments of peaceful silence while the two of you remain wrapped up in a tight and much-needed embrace. Eventually, a deep exhale fans across your neck before he mentions, “That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

“Just a bit. But I promise not to tell anyone you’re secretly a bit of a sap, okay?” you comment, sending the two of you into a small fit of snickers. Your tone is more serious, however, when you mention, “It made me really happy to hear, though.”

“Good,” is his response as he moves his head so he can press his mouth to your temple. His next words are spoken quietly, as if just to himself, and nearly lost beneath the layers of environmental noise surrounding you, but you’re glad you hear them.

“That’s all that matters to me.”

[chocolatecakecas]

Not so Cold Feet: Destiel Wedding Ficlet Part 1

Part 2

Congrats to the happy couple💙💚💍!!!!!!!

So far, the day had gone off without any major hiccups, to everyone's complete surprise.

They had somehow managed to keep Dean and Cas away from each other since late last night, which neither of them were happy about. Cas had tried to explain the actual origin of that tradition, and how it definitely didn't apply to them, but nobody budged (Cas you have the rest of your life to be gross with Dean, you can handle a couple more hours). And as they were shuffled off to opposite ends of the bunker, Dean had to agree with Cas, it was a stupid tradition.

Was there an attempted escape plan (meet in the kitchen at 3am to make out), that was foiled when Cas flicked on the lights to see Sam, Eileen, Charlie and Claire, all leaning against the kitchen island? It's possible, but they did manage to catch a glimpse of each other before being frogged marched back to their holding cel-bedrooms.

Other than the failed coup and his wounded pride, Dean was fine for the rest of the night. He was fine throughout breakfast, he was fine in the shower, he was fine when he began getting ready. But now as Dean was staring at his deep blue suit in the mirror, he knew one thing for certain.

He was definitely not fine.

It wasn't that he was getting cold feet, quite the opposite actually. Dean loves Cas with his entire being, more than Dean can put into words, he wasn’t sure that the right words even exists. He doesn’t want to be with anyone else in the world. Cas was it for him.

And listen, Dean knows Cas loves him. He tells him every chance he gets, and they've been raising an actual baby together, for godsake. So Cas loves him, and logically, Dean knows that it's true.

But because his mind apparently can't let himself just be happy for once in his life, he panics.

What if they're making a mistake? What if this isn't what Cas really wants? What if Cas marries him and realizes that Dean actually isn't the one thing he wants?

Ice rushes through Dean's veins.

He has to talk to Cas. Dean has to stop this befo-

A knock interrupts his thoughts. Sam's head peers around the door, and with a blinding smile, tells Dean it's time.

They walk down the hallway together in silence, the energy of the day bounces off the walls, excitement hanging in the air.

Dean's mind races. He has to talk to him.

When he sees Cas he'll just tell him the wedding is off an-

Okay well, I'll word it better than that, Dean thinks.

They slowly make their way to the backdoor that leads out to the clearing. It's hidden from view behind the bunker, and it's where Cas had started a garden, spending hours out there taking care of the land. Now the ground now covered in various wild flowers.

That's where everyone is waiting. Right. He has to talk to him, before they go out there in front of literally every single person they know.

Dean fiddles anxiously with his cufflinks, heart rate increasing with each step.

He'll just tell Cas that this is a mistake, that he can't let Cas do this. He has too, even if it break Dean's heart. He has to let him go, for Cas.

By the time they reach the door, a small crowd is gathered, and he starts to sweat. Dean’s eyes find Eileen and Charlie first, in long, flowing dresses (Eileen had picked them out).

As soon as she sees him, Charlie tackles Dean in a hug, excitedly whispering her congratulations, and wipes tears from her eyes as she pulls away. Eileen makes her way over next, wrapping him in a tight hug, and signs a quick, "good luck" with a teasing wink.

It does nothing to quiet the noise in his mind.

He can't let Cas tie himself to Dean forever, Cas deserves better than him.

He can't let Cas make the biggest mistake of his life.

So Dean has to tell him. He ha-

Dean freezes.

He spots a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. His back is to Dean, and he's crouched down low, fixing Jack's tie. His focus is on the conversation he's having with Claire, who stands above him in a deep green suit.

Then he rises and turns. And Dean feels the air leave his lungs.

Every word dies in his throat, and his thoughts stall in his mind, because suddenly, nothing else in the world matters more, than the sight in front of him.

He drinks in Cas for the first time in 10 hours.

The way his deep green suit perfectly hugs every inch of his body, his hair carefully (but still messily) tousled, his crooked bowtie, eyes dancing with excitement as he places Jack on his hip.

And Dean has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Tears begin to form in his eyes as he tries to commit everything to memory.

Love, like he's never felt before washes over him, quieting his anxieties, filling his thoughts with blue eyes and gentle touches.

Jack spies Dean first, excitedly yelling as a greeting, and alerting Cas of his presence. Their eyes meet.

Cas's jaw goes slack, blue eyes widening, and a look Dean has never seen before, takes over his features.

A soft smile grows on Cas' lips, Dean smiles back.

Jack wiggles free from Cas' arms and crashes into Dean's legs, effectively breaking their staring contest.

As he ruffles Jack's hair, he hears the conversation on the other side of the door subside.

It's time.

Sam engulfs Cas in a tight hug, whispering something Dean can't quite make out, so he shifts his focus to the three year old, who's hanging on his leg. With a laugh, he bends down to actually fix his kid's tie, since it's still completely uneven (Cas is hopeless). Dean stands, throwing a wide smile to Claire, who smiles back and makes her way over.

In a flash she's wrapped her arms around his neck giving him a quick hug and a whispered congrats. Dean is completely stunned, but manages to hug back, before she pulls away. He watches her walk towards Eileen and Charlie, with Jack in tow (he pretends not to notice the tears in her eyes).

Sam eventually pulls back from Cas, both a little misty eyed. He rights Cas' bowtie and makes his way over to Dean.

They share a meaningful look before wrapping each other in a tight hug.

"I'm so happy for you, Dean. You guys deserves this. You deserve this".

Dean's breathe catches as they pull apart, clasping each others' shoulders for a moment longer.

Then with a watery smile and a whispered, good luck, Sam begins to usher Jack and his little basket through the door, sending Charlie and Eileen after. Then Sam and Claire disappear.

Dean watches in a daze as Jack toddles down the aisle, tossing petals (from Cas' garden of course) as he goes. Eileen and Charlie each had to put him back on track, as he got distracted seeing all of his family seated on either side, which earns a laugh from the crowd. Sam and Claire follow slowly behind them, moving to opposite sides of Bobby, where he currently stands on the makeshift "alter".

Dean feels the fears slowly begin to creep around his edges, his mind racing once more.

He has to tell him, he's running out of time, he has to stop this he can't let Cas make the biggest mist-

A hand on his shoulder rips him from his thoughts, he feels it's warmth radiating through his jacket. Their eyes meet in silence, the gravity of the situation clearly weighing on the both of them.

Dean fears he might blurt out something he'll regret for the rest of his life, but his thoughts settle. And the only thing his mind telling him to do, is reach out and tilt Cas' bowtie. So he does.

And Cas lets out a surprised laugh, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. Cas reaches out, doing the same to Dean's tie. He laughs back.

The tension melts away and Dean's mind quiets. He finally feels like he can breathe as he finds Cas' eyes again.

Then it hits him.

The angel that he fell in love with, with the ratty trench coat and backwards tie, with the smile reserved just for him, and that stupidly endearing head tilt, now stands before him. The man he loves more than anything in the world, the man who raised him from hell, the man who sacrificed everything for him, the man who saved him from himself so many times he's lost count, stands before him. In his deep green suit, with his wild hair, piercing blue eyes, a gummy smile, and a now crooked bowtie. His guardian angel, the light of his life, his best friend. This awkward, wise, dorky, powerful, ancient, little weirdo, stands before him.

And Dean is going to marry him.

The music swells pulling them from their daze, and they watch as all of their family rises and turns to face them.

Cas takes hand and squeezes, and Dean squeezes back.

Now, as Dean stares into those deep blue eyes, as they stand together on a makeshift alter, in a field of budding flowers, in front of everyone they love, tightly clasping ring-clad hands. He knows one thing for certain.

They are definitely, going to be fine.

Tag list:

@theangelwiththewormstache @smiledean @shelikestv @good-things-do-happen-dean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale

@wikiangela @organicpurplepants @bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy

@martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

As always, let me know if you want to be added or removed!!!💛

[fanmoose12]

Hello would you mind writing vets as a music band? And that fans suspect the “normal” relationship of head vocal Levi and bassist Hange? Sorry if my english isn’t writing properly at all.

Mikasa invites him to a No Name concert.

And it's like- whatever, right? Who cares? Jean certainly doesn't.

So what if the girl of his dreams asks him out on a date? It's not like he has been daydreaming about it for the past two years. So what if she offers to see his favorite band in the whole world? He doesn't even like them much. Sure, he knows all their songs by heart but- he doesn't listen to them that often. Only twice or thrice each day. And it's not like his closet hides an insane amount of their merchandise. That is between Jean, his closet and his mother.

He isn't nervous, he doesn't care about the upcoming date. At all. Most certainly, he doesn't spend literal days, obsessing over his outfit. And he obviously doesn't pester Sasha and Connie with questions on how to style his hair.

Most importantly, he doesn't imagine how it would feel to hold Mikasa's hand or maybe even go for a hug or a kiss-

Jean tries not to think about it, his heart starts to beat to fast, when he does, but when he doesn't think about Mikasa, he starts thinking about No Name and the little, tinie tiny fact that he's going to see them in person. That he's going to meet them and maybe even shake their hand, because Mikasa being the gorgeous goddess she is, got them tickets with access to a backstage. It didn't require any kind of effort from her side, since the famed, spectacularly, dreamy Levi Ackerman is Mikasa's cousin, but- Jean doesn't remember sharing his No Name obsession with Mikasa, for obvious reasons - he doesn't want to think that he likes her just because she's Levi Ackerman's cousin, Mikasa is great not because she's an Ackerman, but because she's Mikasa, but- but Jean is so, so grateful that he'll have the chance to see No Name in all their glory.

Of course, he is not at all nervous about meeting his favorite band in person. No, no, he doesn't lose sleep over it, his palms don't turn clammy. Sometimes he feels like he'll combust from anticipation, but he's fine, completely fine.

He just can't wait until that fated day will come.

---

When that day rolls around at last, Jean is cool. He's cool, calm, serene.

His hand is greasy from all the times he touched his slicked back hair, and he can't stop tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket, but- but he's cool.

The band that is currently playing isn't that bad - not nearly as talented and awesome, and hot as No Name, but still good. The crowd is bigger than Jean is comfortable with, but today it works in his favor because it prompts Mikasa to hold his hand. Maybe, he'll get that kiss after all. If he continues keeping his cool.

That proves to be just a little harder task when Mikasa announces that they reached the backstage.

Jean can't help it - he gawks around helplessly.

This is it, this is a place where miracles happen, where stars lounge and rest.

This is the place where he'll meet No Name.

Jean can't imagine how this meeting will transpire. Will they like him? Will they agree to make a photo? Will they give him an autograph? Will they think that he's a weirdo who is too obsessed with their music?

All of the above? None of the above?

Jean doesn't know.

There are so many things he wants to say. There are so many things he wants to ask - how can they play with those bandages on? How do they never trip during performances? What is their favorite song to play? What do they do in their free time? What is their favorite food? Are the rumors about Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe-

Okay, no, he probably shouldn't ask that last question, no matter how much he wants to know the answer. And he wants to, so, so much.

The thing is- there are many rumors about No Name. It's not surprising, they are young, famous and extremely hot. These rumors usually exclude the drummer, Mike Zacharias, who is already engaged with a very pretty blonde lady, their stylist. Although, there are some fans who speculate that the engagement is not true, and Mike actually dates their producer, one Erwin Smith, but- Jean usually ignores that type of fans, branding them as freaks.

Now, as far as everyone is aware, nor Levi Ackerman, neither Hange Zoe are involved in any kind of romantic relationships, and that's- that's where the juicy stuff begins.

There aren't many rumors about Hange - some say she's involved with Pieck, the band's make-up artist. Or their manager, Moblit Berner. Or an indie artist, Onyakopon. But that's where the list ends.

Levi Ackerman, however, oh he has a far longer list of lovers. Petra Ral, for example, a rising pop-star - young, talented and so pretty that it hurts. Or Erwin, although on that subject rumors wary - some say that Erwin is the one who got Levi in showbiz, some say that Erwin is his sugar daddy, some say that they're already engaged and even married. The rumors are as varied as they're wrong, in Jean's opinion. Most rumors about Levi are like that. There are even talks about his involvement with Yeager brothers - with the front man of the rival band, Zeke, and Jean's and Mikasa's classmate, Eren. Jean doesn't understand where these rumors even come from, as far as he's aware, Levi hates them both. But- but rumors still exist.

As stupid as they are.

Now, Jean has a different opinion, one that he spends nights defending in chats and forums. Yes, Levi Ackerman has a lover. And no, it's not Petra Ral, Erwin Smith or any of the Yeager brothers. It's Hange Zoe, No Name's bassist.

There are many reasons why he thinks so. Firstly, they are always together. And by always, Jean means always. In photoshoots they stand side by side, during performances they lean against each other, on all kinds of photos - from after-parties to official events, they always touch each other in some way. And that's not all. They spend their vacations together, they hang out at movies, restaurants, museums, their respective instagrams are full of the other's candid photos. And it's a known fact that they share an apartment. Honestly, how much more obvious it can get? Also Jean is pretty sure that one of the songs written by Levi is about Hange, and he has an entire essay, explaining why he's right. He prays to every saint known that Mikasa will never find it. He doesn't want his almost girlfriend to find out just how invested he is in the romantic life of her famous cousin.

As they walk further and further into the magical territory of the backstage, Jean tries to think of something cool to say, something laid-back and easy like 'hey, what's up, guys? I've listened to the couple of your songs, you're not that bad...'

Yes, he decides. That's a good way to start. A cool way to start.

And Jean is cool. And calm.

And- oh my god, there they are, the three of them, already in their costumes, just without the signature bandages. They look even cooler in person. They look even hotter and-

Mikasa squeezes his hand.

"If my asshole cousin says something awful, I'll punch him in the face for you."

God, that is so sweet. So Mikasa. He wouldn't be opposed to anyone getting a punch from her except- her gorgeous cousin. His pretty face should be protected at all costs.

However, as they approach, the face that charmed millions transforms, turning into a quite nasty scowl.

"So that's him?" Levi Ackerman asks (Jean's sick brain, even in that moment, can't help but note that Hange Zoe is standing right behind her band member, a hand laying on his shoulder). "That's the guy you're going crazy about?"

"Yes," Mikasa answers, and suddenly the air grows stiff. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The lines around Levi's mouth harden, and Jean tries to focus on Hange Zoe, while his mind prepares for something not at all pretty, but- Hange is smiling - not smirking, smiling. That is a good sign, right?

"Don't mind the Ackermans," she stage whispers to Jean. "Levi was actually very excited about meeting you."

Right now it's hard to imagine that dark (and still so handsome) face in the expression of excitement, but. Hange knows him a lot more, right?

"Oh and by the way," she giggles, and at the back of his mind Jean wonders if that's how angels sound like. "I'm Hange."

He almost blurts out 'I know' but- that'd be creepy? Or not? He can't decide so settles on a simple nod.

"Jean," he says, taking the offered hand in his. With his hand that isn't holding Mikasa's (they're holding hands, wow!), he shakes Hange's. It's unexpectedly calloused. But still warm and gentle. Not as nice as Mikasa's but... somewhere very close.

"And that is the one and only Levi Ackerman," Hange continues, gesturing to the man in question. "He only looks so scary. But actually," she winks and lowers her voice. "He's the biggest softie you'll ever meet."

The biggest softie Jean has ever met, practically snarls, baring his teeth. But the hand on his shoulder tightens and he instantly relaxes, scoffing in annoyance. Oh, so that's who Hange Zoe is? The one who tames the beast?

"You're not as revolting as her other dates," Levi says. Jean is pretty sure that it was meant as a compliment. "But if you dare to-"

"Oi," Mikasa's face becomes as stormy as her cousin's. "He won't."

"And even if he does," Hange smiles, so handsome and a little scary. "Mikasa knows what to do."

Jean gulps. He has seen Mikasa train that one time. He was very impressed, and a little bit scared. Also a lot aroused.

He knows with ironclad certainty that should Mikasa kick him... his face may not survive it.

"Hange, Levi," a gruff voice behind them calls. Jean lifts his eyes, mouth opening in shock as he sees him in the flash - the third member of Non Name, Mike Zacharius himself. In person... he is even more enormous than on photos. His shoulders are twice as wide as Jean's, and next to Hange and Levi, he looks almost like a giant. "We're starting in five."

"Oh!" Hange covers her mouth with a palm. "I haven't checked my guitar yet. Let's hurry, shorty!"

Hange dashes away instantly, Levi sighs and trudges after her. Mikasa tugs at Jean's hand as well, whispering that they need to go to their places.

Jean nods, absentmindedly, because right in that moment, at the other side of the room he sees Hange and Levi exchange a playful, quick but undeniably a kiss.

Triumph courses through him, firing him up. He knew that he was right, those fuckers from twitter can eat his shit.

Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman are truly dating.

He wants to know more, wants to ask Mikasa to spare the juicy details, but for now-

For now, Jean has to take care of his date as well.

He interlaces their fingers, and, keeping Hange's words in mind - Ackermans are not as scary as they look - he leans in to press a kiss to Mikasa's cheek and whispers,

"You look fantastic."

Ever so slightly, but Mikasa blushes. It's the best moment of the evening so far.

And, hopefully, there will be more of that.

[askthewvba]

So, do you guys have any hobbies outside of the ring?

Little Mac

While Mac does devote much of his time to training and preparing for his next matches, he's still a teenage boy! That bike is good for casual rides too, and when he and Doc have some time they'll go riding through the streets of New York (while avoiding fans!). Video games are another go-to pastime; he and Birdy get together to game pretty frequently, though he also makes the effort to teach Doc how to play. Doc's still figuring out how to manage newer generation controllers.

Glass Joe

When out of the ring, Glass Joe greatly enjoys his time to be spent in calm, quiet comfort. He frequents libraries and book shops for new reading material, then makes himself cozy in his reading chair with his cat Miette on his lap. When he chooses to leave the house, he'll drop by his usual café and pick up a snack and a cup of coffee - sometimes he'll visit the café twice in one day if he'd already gone there for breakfast.

Von Kaiser

Von Kaiser's never been one for idling, and prefers even his free time to be productive and/or busy. Otherwise, he just feels antsy! He's got a collection of boots to be polished, bookshelves to be reorganized, training equipment to be tidied and touched up, anything to keep his mind from wandering and his hands occupied. Additionally, he'll take his dog Jäger out for walks around the neighborhood.

Disco Kid

Oh, it's not too hard to imagine! Disco Kid loves the nightlife, hosting parties at his own place or going out to whatever club he can find around town. He just wants to dance and have a good time! Sometimes he'll cruise down the highways going nowhere in particular, blasting his music out of his sports car and flashing the fancy lights he's got, making a real spectacle of himself and his ride.

King Hippo

King Hippo is a simple monarch, and if there aren't any important kingly duties he has to attend to, you can usually find him feasting, resting, or zonked out with a hunk of food still in his hand - best of both worlds! Since coming to the Mainland, he's developed an interest in trying other global cuisines and determining if they compare to his own tastes and what he usually dines on at home. As of now he has determined that spicy foods do not spark joy.

Piston Hondo

Piston Hondo is another who enjoys quiet simplicity. Though he devotes much of his time to meditation and training, he also takes great pleasure in the culinary arts of his culture. He’ll spend hours cooking traditional meals to perfection, and he’s nearly mastered the art of the tea ceremony. Other hobbies include reading (though he’d be hard pressed to tell you what he usually reads), calligraphy, and painting.

Bear Hugger

Bear Hugger’s an outdoorsman, through and through! He spends many hours enjoying the wilderness with his wildlife friends, cooking hearty meals over campfires, hiking through tundras and mountains, and maybe even a game or two of hockey if he’s got the time for it. You could also say boxing’s a bit of a hobby for him - his usual gig is lumberjacking and carpentry!

Great Tiger

Like his friend Hondo, Great Tiger spends much of his time meditating and honing his magical abilities. Speaking of, though he could and has easily sold out arenas to see him perform his wonders, he’d just as soon travel the streets of his hometown and perform tricks for delighted locals free of charge. Like Kaiser, he also takes satisfaction in regularly reorganizing his living space and belongings, just to shake things up.

Don Flamenco

Of course, the obvious answer would be his dancing skills. Which is true! Don Flamenco and Disco Kid often spend nights out at local clubs, where both of them display their abilities for whoever happens to have their eyes on them. But at home, he tends to his flower garden that grows carnations, asters, dahlias, and of course - roses, his pride and joy. Would you believe Don doesn’t mind a little dirt here and there?

Aran Ryan

Aran Ryan’s favorite pastime is, without a doubt, annoying people. Needless to say he’s quite the prankster, lurking around the WVBA gyms for anyone he can mess with, usually some hapless soul just trying to get a workout in. If he’s stuck in the lodgers? Might as well crank his music up as high as it goes to piss off the neighbors! He’s picked up tagging as a hobby too, though mostly keeps it in America.

Soda Popinski

On many days after vigorous training at the WVBA facility, Soda Popinski and his buddy Aran go bar-hopping around town, even if the sun’s still up. Soda’s not drinking liquor anymore, of course, but he does get totally sloshed on soda! Those evenings usually end with both men drunkenly stumbling back to their lodgings, belting pub songs out of key. But on days when he’d rather take it easy, you can find him reading, knitting, or... wrestling bears in the mountains. 

Bald Bull

Whatever he’s doing, Bald Bull values his time spent privately away from the public eye. Visiting hot springs and saunas are a tried and true way for him to relax. Back home he lives near a few foothills with herds of wild cattle, and will spend time bonding (and training) with the bulls there. Plus, he’s good at construction! Does he need another firepit in the backyard? No. Is he making one anyway? He’s already halfway done.

Super Macho Man

Hosting lavish and expensive parties with groupies and other socialites? Check. Calling up one of the many numbers in his phone and taking a lucky lady out for a wild night on the town? Check. Showing up to other parties and events and totally stealing the show? Check, check, check. But what Macho loves most is actually a solo activity, out of the limelight - he loves to surf on his private beach, spending hours catching sun and taming waves.

Mr. Sandman

Mr. Sandman is one of those weirdos who legitimately goes to the gym for fun. Whether lifting weights, using the machines, or getting in some cardio exercises, you can be sure that Sandman’s showing up literally everybody else with how efficient and effortless his routines are. But would you have pegged him as being a science fiction and fantasy fan? He’s got quite the sizable collection of novels!

[five-rivers]

Stars Aligned Chapter 3

(Please do not ask when the next chapter will be, I do not know. Links to AO3/FFN will be included in reblog.)

.

Here’s the thing. The very, very, stupid thing. Despite all his planning for this trip, Danny had no idea what his birth family looked like. Presumably, they also had no idea what he looked like.

As much as Danny would like to blame this on a wizardly aversion to the internet and photographs, he couldn’t. Danny could have sent them a picture of himself through the mail at any time. Even if wizard mail involved owls for some unexplained reason. But he didn’t. Because he was dumb.

And his equally dumb wizard family had also failed to send any pictures.

What were they thinking? Did they assume they’d somehow recognize each other on sight? Was that a wizard thing? Did they expect to spontaneously develop blood-relative telepathy? Was that a thing?

Danny did not know what to expect. He honestly didn’t know enough about wizards.

The end result was that Danny was standing in the middle of the wizarding world’s equivalent of an airport, which involved way more open fires than could possibly be safe, and people stepping into those open fires, which, again, could not possibly be safe. Of course, Danny had done it, as uncomfortable as it was for his core, and anything that used internal combustion was technically also using fire as a means of transportation, so Danny might have been a bit of a hypocrite, but still.

But, back to his dilemma. He, a dumb teenager, could be expected to do dumb, thoughtless things and make easily avoidable mistakes. It was basically a requirement. His actual family, who probably could have realized the error, didn’t want him to go and could be forgiven for any oversight. But dumb wizard birth family had at least one semi-competent adult in it. Supposedly.

Despite himself, his desire to kidnap his brother increased. Even though it would most likely cause an international incident.

He sighed. Maybe he should just follow the crowd and see if anyone stopped him. After all wizards might have magic blood-relative detection something or other.

He trudged along, pulling his trundle suitcase behind him. Silver lining was that whatever happened, he didn’t have to spend hours in a metal tube breathing recycled air. Silver lining. Silver lining. Silver—

Ah. Hm.

Danny blinked at his name written in large letters on a square of poster paper. His first and middle names, that is, and his bio-family’s last name.

He was highlytempted to turn around and go back home, but there was his twin, holding the card and looking fragile and hopeful, standing next to a tall woman with greying black hair.

He sighed. He was doing this, then.

“Hi,” he said, “you must be Draco. I’m Danny. And, uh, you must be Narcissa Malfoy?” He sort of held his hand out, feeling awkward.

“You can call me mother, Deneb,” said Narcissa. She sounded slightly tearful.

“It good to meet you, Deneb. Er. Danny.” Draco’s eyes flitted up to his mother.

“Yeah, um. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Mrs. Malfoy, but I don’t actually know you. And I’ve got a mom.”

“Yet,” interjected Draco. “You don’t know mother yet. That’s what this visit is about, right?”

“Right,” said Danny. “I’m… really looking forward to it.”

Draco looked relieved. “Excellent. Well, then, Looky can get your luggage and we can floo home.”

A very small, rather wizened person stepped out from behind Draco’s legs.

Okay. Danny had questions.

.

Danny did not particularly care for the answers to his questions.

.

Draco didn’t know why his twin had stopped talking to him before they’d even gotten home. He had, to some degree, expected rough spots. Merlin knew his family didn’t get along perfectly. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t hoped he and his twin would have a special connection. That they would mesh.

That… wasn’t happening. In fact, this was rather… awkward. Painful, almost.

He thought back to what they had been talking about. He didn’t think he’d said anything particularly objectionable. Had he hit on some chip on the shoulder those squibs had inculcated in him? Well, he thought, rather shamefacedly, he shouldn’t think of them like that. They hadn’t been the ones to abandon Deneb – Danny – just for not being immediately magical.

“Right,” he said, as Danny stepped (jumped, looking slightly disturbed) out of the fire. “Let me show you your room. We’ve had the house elves clean it out.”

Something on Danny’s face went dark, but he visibly controlled himself. “Thank you,” he said. “And, um, thank you, Looky. For your help.”

Draco frowned. He was confused, and he didn’t like feeling confused. He knew muggles didn’t have house elves, of course, but still. The concept wasn’t that hard to understand, was it? Although, it was possible Danny had never come across house elves at all, even second or third hand.

He supposed they might be unsettling if they were the first magical creature one came across. Ugh. He’d never tried to put himself in the position of someone learning about magic for the first time. Why would he? That was mudblood business, and he’d never associate with one of those.

But Danny was in that position, just about.

That meant it was Draco’s job to help Danny understand.

.

Danny was hoping he was misunderstanding something and that wizards did not, in fact, practice slavery.

This seemed to be a forlorn hope.

“So,” said Draco clasping his hands behind his back in the doorway of ‘Danny’s’ room, “er, house elves. You’ve probably not seen them before.”

“Can’t really say so, no.”

“Probably the first magical creatures you’ve seen.”

“Um,” said Danny. “Also no. I did have to go get a wand and stuff, and you’ve got to go to a wizard town to do that. I saw a bunch of different stuff there.” He didn’t really want to explain the ghosts, but… “Also, my parents study ghosts.”

“You mean, your adopted parents.”

“My parents, yes.”

“I didn’t know squibs could see ghosts. Well, they never seemed to have any trouble with it, so…” He shrugged.

“I… see.”

Danny doubted it, somehow. “But you were saying? About house elves?” Benefit of the doubt, he reminded himself.

“They’re servants,” said Draco. “Magically bound to serve certain families.”

“Magically bound,” repeated Danny, liking this less and less.

“Yes, it’s very old magic. An ancient agreement between our race and theirs, and the individual families and the house elves in question.”

“They can’t, like, opt out or anything?”

“That would defeat the point.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “So… Do they get, you know, paid at all?”

“Of course not,” said Draco.

Danny closed his eyes. “Okay. Um. Draco.” How to put this in a way that wouldn’t immediately alienate him. “Isn’t that slavery?”

“No,” said Draco, immediately. “They want to serve.”

“Well, they might say that to you, but human slaves used to say the same thing, because they’d get in trouble if they didn’t.”

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, confidently, “It isn’t like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“They aren’t human. They want to do this.”

Danny was no stranger to dealing with inhuman mindsets (but he most definitely did not have one himself). Even so…

“I think my point still stands. Like, are there very many house elves in this situation?”

“I don’t know,” said Draco. “I suppose so. Most families of substance and breeding have at least one.”

“Okay. Ah. Look. I’m not even sure where to start with this. Slavery is bad, right? We can agree on that.”

An annoyed expression passed over Draco’s face. “Yes, we can. That’s a given. But that’s for humans—"

“Great. Let’s start there. It’s bad for any human, right? Even, like, no-majs, or stupid humans, or—”

“Muggles,” corrected Draco. “No-maj is the American term.”

“When in Rome, I guess, sure. Muggles, then.”

“Yeah,” said Draco, uncomfortably crossing his arms.

Oh, Ancients, there was something there. Which Danny should have expected, given his birth father, whom he had yet to meet, threw him out of the house literally at birth.

Wizard supremacist weirdos corrupting his poor twin brother.

“Then what makes house elves so different?”

“Like I said, they want to do this. It’s in their nature. You wouldn’t, I don’t know, decide a dog was unhealthy because it barked instead of meowed, would you?” He spread his hands in frustration.

“I’ll give you that, but Looky looked actively afraid of you. And what was she even dressed in? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Giving them real clothes would free them – only if it’s their master, which in this case is Father.” He shifted slightly. “Except for Looky, I suppose, who is technicallymine. Great Aunt—Oh, you won’t know her. Why do you even care?”

“Why do I care about other people suffering? But otherthan that, what’s the difference between a house elf and a human servant? Like, would you treat a human servant like that? If you were a servant, wouldn’t you want to be treated with respect, even if being a servant was all you’d ever wanted?”

“But I’m not a servant.”

“But if you were. Can’t you just try to imagine it? A little? Please?”

“I… fine. But don’t bring this up to Mother and Father. They wouldn’t be pleased.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“Deal,” agreed Draco. “So. Do you like your room?”

Danny looked around. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice. Bit different from what I have at home, but, yeah. Good, um. Good floors. And wallpaper. And, um. Do all wizard paintings move like that?” He genuinely hadn’t noticed until just now, intent on the house elf problem.

“Yeah,” said Draco, seemingly relieved at the more normal topic. “It’s an enchantment on the canvas and paint.”

“Seems like it’d be hard to work with,” observed Danny.

“Well, the spell isn’t finished until after the actual painting part is done. At least, that’s my understanding.”

“I see, that would be easier.”

Silence.

“Would you like to see the peacocks?”

“Sure, why not?”

.

It took a bit of time to get bundled up in coats (cloaks in Draco’s case) because it was cold outside, but once they did…

“Wow. They’re albino peacocks.”

“Yes.”

“Wild.”

“No, they’re quite tame.”

“Oh, it’s, um, it’s an idiom. Like cool. Or wicked, I guess? Do British people use that?”

“I’ve heard some people use it. But Mother and Father are… not particularly enamored of slang.”

“Right,” said Danny. “I’ll remember that.”

They continued walking through the garden, towards the pond. Danny tried not to dwell on how much labor it would take to keep the grounds here so pristine.

“What do you do for fun in America?” asked Draco, out of nowhere.

Danny blinked. “Different people do different things,” he said. “Uh, a lot of things I usually do won’t work here because of the whole magic and electricity not getting along well thing. Have you ever heard about video games?”

“No,” said Draco. “Is it anything like quidditch?”

“I have only the loosest of understandings of what that is. It’s that broom sport, right? The one where you fly?”

Draco looked scandalized. “… Yes,” he said, finally. “I’m going to have to teach you how to use a broom before you have to go back to America.”

“The flying type of broom?” asked Danny, teasingly. Sure, he already could fly, but whatever.

“Merlin, yes.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m part of my house’s quidditch team. Letting you leave without some understanding of the rules would be a crime.”

“Draco, are you a jock?” asked Danny. “What is this world coming to. Related to a jock.” He shook his head dramatically. “I’ll never live it down.”

Draco nudged him slightly. “I’m not a meathead beater, at least,” he said. “I’m the team seeker.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Draco’s smile slowly slid off his face.

“What?” said Danny.

“It’s just… you should. You should have grown up here, with family, as part of this world.”

“I did grow up with family,” said Danny. “Just not direct blood relatives. It kind of sucks that we didn’t get the chance to grow up together, but, like, I’m not really impressedby your parents so far.”

“Mother was very upset when she heard what Father did.”

“Sure, but she also kind of ditched us as soon as we got back here.”

“She has a delicate constitution? I’m sure she’s just trying to decide how to act… giving you space to make you feel more comfortable?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, we’ll see what happens. I’m going to be here until the end of the break, after all.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to Hogwarts, just for the rest of the school year? I’m sure they’ll be better than any alternative in America, when it comes to catching you up. Father has friends on the board of governors and the Ministry Department of Educational Oversight. It would be easy for you to go.”

“My friends are all back home,” said Danny, “and magic or not, what I really want to do with my life is become an astronaut, and I need ‘muggle’ grades and school for that.”

“A what now?”

“An astronaut?”

Surely, Draco had just misheard him.

“Is that some sort of muggle thing, then?”

“I- Do you not know what an astronaut is?” asked Danny, flabbergasted. “Really?”

Draco’s eyebrows were furrowed. “No, I don’t.”

“How about cosmonauts? Do you know about them?”

“No,” said Draco. “Is this related to the Argonauts, somehow? That Greek thing?”

“No,” said Danny. “I mean, the root word – But no. Not the same thing at all. How do I even… Do you know what outer space is?”

“Astronomy is a class at Hogwarts.”

“Not a very good one,” said Danny, “if you don’t know what an astronaut is. I think I’d die.”

“It’s a very good class. Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in Europe. And I know what outer space is. It’s the space up above the atmosphere, where the planets and stars are, and stuff.”

“Okay. I mean. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything,” reassured Danny, sensing that he had ruffled some feathers. “I’m just… an astronomy class should teach about astronauts. Astronauts are people who’ve been to space. Outer space.”

“That’s rubbish,” said Draco. “You can’t go to space.”

Danny refrained from informing Draco that he had, in fact, been to space. “Well, I want to go to space,” said Danny, “and other people have been there.”

“No one’s been to space,” said Draco. “Unless maybe someone apparated there by mistake, but how would you even do that?”

“I don’t know what apparating is,” said Danny. “Some kind of teleportation?”

Both of them stared at each other, each one probably at a loss for words regarding the other’s ignorance of things they themselves considered common knowledge.

“Yeah, more or less,” said Draco, finally. “But you can’t get to space. It’s impossible.”

“It isn’t. There are people up there right now,” said Danny. “On the International Space Station. Which is… it’s sort of a little house. In space.”

“There’s no air up there.”

“They bring the air with them.”

“Wouldn’t it explode?”

“They figured out how to make it so it wouldn’t explode. It’s very, um. Sturdy. Rigid. The space station is airtight.”

“And you’re saying that there are muggles in it. In space. Outer space. Right now.”

“As we speak. I mean, I guess some of them could be secret wizards, but considering your reaction, I’m doubting it.”

“Muggles. In space.”

“Yeah. We made it to the moon, too. But that was—”

“The moon?”

“Yeah?”

“In the sky?”

“That, uh.” He looked up, as if expecting to see the moon despite the thick cloud cover. “Yeah. The moon.”

“You’re telling me,” said Draco, in a hushed voice, “that there are muggles on the moon. Right now. As we speak.”

“No, that was before we were born,” said Danny.

“What.”

“Yeah, some people went, but it was really expensive, so they haven’t been back. Which I think is silly, because can you imagine the scientific advancements we could have made? The resources we could have brought back?”

“The moon.”

“You seem really hung up on this. Are you okay?”

“You- That- The moon. And muggles in space?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you see why I need to go back. I’m sure Hogwarts is great and all, but I really want to be an astronaut.”

“Can you see them through a telescope?”

“See what?”

“The muggles in space.”

“On a clear night, sure, if you know where to look.” Before the Accident (the Big One, the Unaliving, the Green Flash, the Knockoff Origin Story), Danny usually checked the internet for the times the ISS passed overhead. But he’d developed a ghost power that gave him a pretty good sense of where anything in the sky was, so long as he concentrated for a few minutes. “It orbits the Earth every ninety minutes or so, although it doesn’t always catch the light enough to see properly. You can actually see a lot of satellites.”

“There are more of these things?” hissed Draco.

“Not with people on them.”

“I’m getting my telescope,” declared Draco, starting to stride back to the house.

“We won’t be able to see anything now,” said Danny.

“It’s enchanted to see through cloud cover and ignore non-reflected sunlight. It’s top of the line.”

Danny had never wanted a physical object so much in his entire life.

“What? What? Magic can do that?”

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

A Comedy of Errors. Chapter 3: The Way of the Aces.

Please read the previous chapters before proceeding!!

Click here to read Chapter 1: Negotiations.

Click here to read Chapter 2: Suga the Setter.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Background: Y/N is a transfer student who joined Karasuno High in her second year because her family shifted to Miyagi. She is a volleyball player and plays as a wing spiker (ace) in the Girl’s Volleyball team.

Pairing: Karasuno x fem reader || Romantic Pairing: Asahi x fem reader

NOTE: Y/N plays volleyball in this. I am not familiar with all the rules of the game so pls 2 forgive if I get any of the technicalities wrong.

Genre: Fluff and comfort with sprinkles of comedy this time! || SFW

A/N: At last, the final chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I really poured my entire soul into this. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Say, since you guys are already here. Why don’t you stay and watch us practice?" Asahi's lifespan is being shortened with every word as Suga invites Y/N and Michimiya to watch them practice. Asahi waits with bated breath. Even though he is extremely nervous, a part of him does want you to stay. So, when you do say yes, he doesn't know whether to feel happy or run out of the gym screaming. As they walk off to warm up, Suga whispers to him, "I know you're probably thinking about how you're going to fuck up your play and embarrass yourself in front of her. But while you're at it, maybe you should also think about what will happen if you actually play well." Asahi nods. "Suga." "Hmm?" "Thank you. For everything you just did. I really do appreciate it." "Of course! I'm just glad it worked out well." "And you are right, I do like her. I don't know her much but I would like to." "Aha, finally some truth around here! Well, then we just gotta make sure you give her a show worth remembering!" Suga says, winking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michimiya had been watching the game intently, as was evident by her gasps and comments on everything. But you? You hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of Asahi the entire game. So much so, that you had barely given a second thought to the first years' amazing quick attack or Nishinoya's outstanding libero skills.

Asahi's spikes, his serves, his receives, his posture, his spirit, and his determination had you just...rapt with attention.

"In case you are wondering, yes, he is single." Michimiya's whisper startles you.

"W-what?" you start to blush. "I'm just taking notes!"

"But I didn't even specify who I was talking about."

You turn redder.

"He's really nice too, you know. A very genuine and kind person. I think you two would make a cute couple."

Your face is so hot now that you're sure you'll hear a sizzle any moment. You turn your head back towards the game to avoid Michimiya's gaze.

"I- I don't know who you are talking about."

Michimiya chuckles. "Of course you don't."

Even though you can feel Michimiya's gaze on you, you can't help but smile as you watch Asahi land another beautiful spike in the opponent's court.

You didn't know, of course, that you being around and watching him had been a huge boost of motivation for him to perform at his peak. You didn't know how he had been wondering what you were thinking about him the entire game. You didn't know how hard it had been for him to not glance at you after every move he made, just to see your reaction.

But he didn't know how you had felt either. He didn't know how your heart rate sped up every time he came on to serve. He didn't know you had also felt frustrated whenever his spike got shut down, feeling as though you had been shut down. He didn't know how you had wanted to shout and cheer him on but you hadn't because you didn't want to come off as a weirdo.

Truly, you would make a good couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Practice is now over. Asahi's team won both the practice matches (of course they did, Suga would not have had it any other way). You and Michimiya walk over to the third years. As Michimiya starts gushing to Daichi about their game, you turn to Asahi.

"You were really - glorious, brilliant, like a God, I wish you were spiking me instead - amazing out there," you say, your eyes full of admiration.

Asahi instantly turns a deep shade of red.

"Th-thank you." He says with a smile.

"See, I told you he is great!" Suga says with a proud smile on his face.

"You were right. Karasuno really has a very talented ace."

"No, it has two of them," Asahi says, looking at you with a smile.

Now it is your turn to blush.

"Aah, I wish. I'm not quite there yet. I'm definitely nowhere close to your level," you say.

"I would love to help you any way I can."

"I would be honoured to learn from you," you say with a bow.

Suga piped up, "It's Saturday tomorrow! The boys' gym will be free till 10AM. If you want, we can practice here early morning. Say, around 7? Asahi can teach you the techniques and I can set for you both. We'll ask Daichi and Michimiya too if they want to join." and before you can answer, Suga is off to ask Daichi and Michimiya.

Wow, he really doesn't wait for an answer, huh.

Asahi looks at you and he can see you're a little unsure. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... I really don't want to bother you guys so early in the morning like that."

"It's no problem at all, we usually practice early on the weekends anyway." Asahi says with a reassuring smile. That seems to melt your doubts away.

Suga walks back to you. "I've spoken to the two of them, they will join us but a little later."

"It's sorted, then." you say, smiling.

Of course, Asahi was the one who ended up walking you home that night.

Of course, Suga was "late" for the morning practice the next day, giving you and Asahi a lot of time to get comfortable around each other get nervous and DIE.

Of course, situations like these happened more than a few times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you know it, two months have passed. With Asahi and Michimiya's help, you improved tremendously and the Karasuno Girls Volleyball team cleared the first set of qualifying rounds for the Spring Interhigh. And so did the boys.

During this time, you and Asahi have become really good friends. Since you two live in the same area, you often end up going to school and walking home together, giving you a lot of time to talk about every topic under the sun. It took a while but you are now very comfortable around each other. In fact, Asahi himself wonders how he is able to tell you things so easily.

Both of your friend groups (and your entire school, also the neighbouring schools, random passersby, street dogs, birds flying past - you know, basically anyone with eyes) can see that you two are absolutely head-over-heels for each other. The only two people who don't know it are you two.

The way Asahi had gone out of his way to teach you everything he knew; how patiently he had walked you through every technique, every mistake; how he had sweetly asked you for permission every time before correcting your posture and showing you the right finger placement (mind outta the gutter fellas, we talking about volleyball here); how every time he did that, you felt a jolt of electricity whenever his fingers touched you (I promise it is still about volleyball); how he cares about even the littlest things regarding you; how every time he smiles reassuringly at you, the world feels all right again; how supportive and encouraging he has been through it all: You have fallen for him harder than you have ever fallen in your entire life.

And you just keep falling harder and harder every moment you spend with him. He has become your comfort now. No matter how stressed or nervous you are, just having Asahi around makes you feel much calmer and confident.

Asahi, on the other hand, has smiled more in these last two months than he has ever smiled. He can't help it, being around you just makes him feel like he is floating. He was blown away by how talented and hard working you are and is so proud of the progress you have made.

The way you are so kind to him. The way you always speak up whenever someone makes fun of him. The way you always hype him up and believe in him. The way the world seems to stop every time you smile at him. The way your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world. Asahi could not be more enamoured by you even if he tried. You too, are his comfort now. He knows he can talk to you about every "sentimental" topic on earth without being made fun of.

The only problem is: You both are afraid that this comfort you find in each other will be ruined if either of you confesses and the other does not reciprocate your feelings. It is now a waiting game to see who spikes their ball into the other's court first, if at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are shaking. Partly with excitement, partly with nerves. After defeating Tohoku High, only one school remains between you and the nationals: Niiyama Joshi, one of the most powerful schools that always makes it to nationals when it comes to the Miyagi prefecture.

The boys' game had ended earlier than yours and they had already left the stadium. You were absolutely delighted to hear that they beat Seijoh. Now, they have to face Shiratorizawa, another powerhouse school that always makes it to the nationals.

You and Asahi both have your own mountains to climb tomorrow.

As you are walking out of the stadium with your teammates, you spot something.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, I will be right there." you say and turn back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a very long day but you cannot sit still at all. You cannot stop thinking about the match tomorrow. Your hands are sweaty knees weak, arms are heavy because you keep clenching your fists open and shut as you pace around your bedroom. You had hoped to be able to meet Asahi and maybe feel a little better but by the time you had reached school, the boys had already left. You know how big a day it is for him tomorrow too so you don't want to bother him by asking him to meet. However, you should at least text him and congratulate him on his victory. You open your phone and see you already have a message from him:

Asahi: Hey, I heard you guys beat Tohoku! Congratulations! I knew you could do it.

You smile.

You: Thanks, I still can't believe we did that!!! Congratulations on beating Seijoh!! I heard it was a close match.

Asahi: Thanks! Yeah, it was anyone's game by the end. It was really intense. But we managed to win. Also, I had full faith that you would make it!

You: Damn, wish I could have seen it. Sooo, Shiratorizawa next. How are you feeling?

Asahi: Really, really nervous. They're really strong and I don't think anyone believes we can beat them.

You: Well, you just gotta prove them wrong, then! I truly believe that you guys can do it.

Asahi: I really hope so. Anyway, what about you? How are you feeling about going up against Niiyama tomorrow?

You: Honestly, I cannot stop shaking and thinking about tomorrow. We are so close and I just don't want to screw up and let my team down.

Asahi: Can you get out of your house?

You stare at your phone for a moment before replying.

You: Yeah, I can sneak out the backdoor. Why?

Asahi: Sneak out after 5 minutes. I'll be there.

You: You sure about this? It's late and you need to rest for tomorrow too.

Asahi: I'm sure and I'm already on my way.

You grab your schoolbag and quietly make your way out the backdoor. You see Asahi standing outside your house. He's wearing a purple t-shirt and is carrying a bag in his hand. He smiles and waves at you as you make your way towards him. The knots in your stomach are already starting to loosen.

"Hey, Asahi!"

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry for making you sneak out like this but... I couldn't help myself when I read your messages."

"No, it's completely alright. Actually, to be honest, I was kind of hoping to meet you too. I-I always feel calmer after talking to you."

Asahi blushes.

"R-really?"

"Yeah."

"I always feel better after talking to you too."

You can feel the heat starting to build in your face as you smile at him in response.

Asahi continues, "I-I know I am not good with words. But I want to tell you that I know exactly how you feel. You won't let anyone down. I have seen you play and really, you have nothing to worry about. You have made it this far and you are strong enough to take it further."

His words make you want to cry. He has always shown so much faith in you. You look at the ground and don't say anything as you try to hold back your tears.

"-And I - uh - got you something that I thought might make you feel better."

You look up in surprise and you see him reaching his hand into the bag he brought with him. As you watch, he pulls out a light blue cloth. It's a t-shirt.

You gasp as you recognize what it is.

He holds the t-shirt open by the sleeves so that you can read what's written.

It's a "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

"Oh my God!!" you say loudly.

He is completely thrown off by your reaction as you throw your head back and laugh.

Oh no. Does she think this is lame? Asahi starts to panic.

You reach into your own bag and pull out a similar looking light blue cloth. Asahi's eyes widen.

"I bought this today at the stadium for you. I know how important tomorrow's match is for you and I knew you'd be nervous so I wanted to give you this as a motivational sort of good luck thing." you say as you hold out a larger sized "The Way of the Ace" T-shirt.

All of your tension and nerves melt away as you both stand there laughing and holding the T-shirts.

"I hope I got the right size," Asahi says as you exchange the t-shirts.

"Same."

"It's perfect!" You both say at the same time and erupt into a hearty laugh again.

"Thank you, Asahi. I feel a lot better now. Really, thank you for everything. We wouldn't have made it this far if not for your help."

"It was all you, Y/N. All I did was show you the way. You walked it on your own."

"Yeah, you showed me the way of the Ace." you say, smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The score is 30-31 and it is match point for Karasuno Girls' High School against Niiyama Joshi for what seems to be like the 100th time. It has just been ties after ties after ties and every set has stretched well into the 30s. Somewhere at the beginning of the fifth set, you looked up to see the Karasuno boys piling into the stands to cheer your team on. From the looks of it, they won their match against Shiratorizawa.

Playing such intense 5 sets back to back has taken a massive toll and the players on both sides of the court are at their limit. However, it is now your turn to serve and if you manage to get this point, you will be through to the nationals.

"Y/N, GIVE US A NICE SERVE!!" the boys cheer for you from the audience.

Your knees are quaking and you feel like you can barely stand, much less run or jump. You are so out of breath that you feel like you are going to pass out any minute. As you somehow force yourself to walk into position, you can feel your knees buckling under you.

As you stand there, waiting for the referee to blow the whistle, your eyes instinctively search for Asahi. Even though he is far, you can easily spot him due to his height and the familiar light blue t-shirt he has changed into after his match.

As your eyes meet, Asahi cups his hands around his mouth and BELLOWS.

"JUST ONE MORE. YOU GOT THIS!"

The whistle blows.

BAM.

You barely have time to realize what happened as you are tackled to the ground by your teammates. There's a lot of hugging and crying and shouting.

As you recover from your shock, it finally registers. It was a service ace. Niiyama's libero had tried to dig the ball but it had bounced out of bounds.

You've won.

Tears of exhaustion and exhilaration start to flow from your eyes as you hug your teammates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are killing you as you walk out of the locker room towards the bus, wearing your own WotA t-shirt. It's late and the corridor is silent and empty as you're one of the very last few people to leave.

"I told you you could do it."

You look up and see Asahi standing a little further ahead, smiling at you.

You don't say anything, you just walk up to him and hug him. He seems taken aback but only for a bit as, barely a second later, you feel his large arms wrap around you tightly.

You both stand there for a while, both too exhausted to speak but finding comfort in each other's arms. It just feels so...right. Like this is exactly where and how you are meant to be.

When you finally break apart, you can see that Asahi is looking a little nervous.

"S-say, Y/N. I was wondering... i-if you would maybe want to go on a- on a date with me?"

Your eyes widen in surprise.

"It is completely okay if you don't! I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythi-"

"Yes, yes, YES! I will go on a date with you."

"Really? You really want to go out with me?"

"Yes. Honestly, Asahi, I fell for you a long time ago. I was just afraid of freaking you out and ruining our friendship. So, I didn't say anything."

Asahi let out a little laugh. "It's freaky how we think so similarly because same." He takes your hand in his. "I fell for you the day I met you. And I just kept falling harder and harder the more I got to know you. I just never imagined you would feel the same way for me too."

"I do, I do, I so do! I always have!"

Both of you have the biggest smiles on your faces as you stand there holding hands and looking into each other's eyes.

You suddenly start to blush furiously.

"So...um...since we usually seem to be thinking the same thing. Um, would you like to kiss me?"

Asahi's eyes open so wide that you're worried they'll pop out of their sockets any minute. He is blushing furiously as he simply nods and leans in.

Your heart is thundering as your lips meet. But, it's Asahi. He kisses you with such tenderness and affection that you just melt into him.

The two aces of Karasuno walk out of the stadium hand-in-hand, wearing their matching WotA T-shirts. You're going to nationals, you've found some really great friends and you have found each other. Life is good.

FIN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, I am so happy with how this turned out. I was stuck for a while trying to decide where to go with this story and I was panicking a little about not updating sooner. But I am glad I did not hurry this up because I really LOVE the turn this took in my head which it wouldn't have if I hadn't let the ideas stew in my mind for a while.

I know this was a long read but I really hope you guys enjoyed it and it was worth the read and the wait.

Likes, comments, reblogs and follows are always appreciated. Please DO NOT repost

Buy me a Kofi! <3

[dragonsareourfuture]

Light Yagami/GN! L’s Sibling!Reader — Protector

⚠️Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, manipulation, reader experiences grief, major character death, open ending.

requested by @darkrose33 ! sorry this took so long, I mostly finished writing it and then changed ideas halfway through, so I rewrote it all lol. I could not think of a way that the dynamic and story line that was requested could work in the context of a healthy relationship, so this isn't exactly a happy or romantic oneshot. I wanted to make this as realistic to Light's motivations and character as I could. I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted but you can always request something else if you would like :)

For as long as you can remember, your big brother was the person you looked up to the most. He was the brains, the one who had no trouble with the academics but every ounce of trouble with the social aspect of life. He wasn’t one to care what people thought about him socially, which in turn allowed him to behave however he wanted. He was an expert at leaving a room silent and stunned with just his words because of his lack of filter, telling only the brutal, honest truth when necessary. You couldn’t help but admire L Lawliet more than anything else in the world.

And because you held such admiration for the boy, you appointed yourself to be the role of his protector. Some kid called him a weirdo behind his back? Not to worry, with a little persuasion you can get them to apologize. He’s feeling overworked and you overhear one of the adults talking about a pile of paperwork they are about to drop off to L’s room? Huh, it seems that paperwork somehow ended up in the fireplace, nothing but a pile of ashes left of it. How strange. However you could protect him, you took on that challenge, even if it was simply being in the same room as him for emotional support. If you knew he needed to consume at least one vegetable that week, you were there to deliver, even if you had to hide it in a piece of cake. Whatever you could do, you did. Some told you that was what made you two so interesting – he was the brains, and you were the brawn, but you both needed each other to balance out. Like Yin and Yang.

So imagine your despair when, quite suddenly, L didn’t need you anymore. He was solving more cases, gaining in fame as the world’s greatest detective in his mere teenage years. He would, undoubtedly, need more protection than little ol’ you could provide once professional criminals found the desire to seek him out and kill him. And of course you wanted him to be safe, wanted him to thrive in the occupation that he excelled at, but…you missed your big brother with all of your heart. Not a day went by that you didn’t wish you could bring L his lunch or defend his honor out in the kickball field when some kid wouldn’t shut their big fat mouth. You missed those days.

You heard about the Kira case and how it was kicking everyone on the task force’s ass, including L’s. It only made you wish you could be there more. You kept up on the news, though. It was just about the only thing you could do. You tried to distract yourself with your own studies, but it was difficult to even try when you knew you could never in your wildest imagination come close to rising above your big brother.

You kept reminding yourself that you were grown now. You were fully capable of making a life for yourself that didn’t involve L – that didn’t include worrying about him every few moments. So you worked however pointless it may have seemed. You cooked, you did chores, even started taking up odd jobs to complete during the little free time you would have spent sleeping if you weren’t prone to dreams about the danger L could be in. Every moment in life was spent trying not to worry…only for you to realize that you had every right to worry all along.

The news itself was not particularly surprising. L and every single one of his runners up had to write out their will in advance – about a decade early. Death was to be expected in that line of work.

You had since moved out of Wammy’s house officially, but always stuck around to do the gardening, occasionally the cooking as well. Also the cleaning…you were basically the Wammy house maid, but you were grateful for the distractions.

When the news came, you were in the middle of planting a batch of bulbs you had bought at the store the previous day – white lilies. You had nearly passed them by in favor of a more colorful flower, but when your eyes caught the lack of pigment of the fully grown lily on the packaging, you couldn’t help but be reminded of your big brother’s pale as bone skin. You had chuckled at the memory, blinked away a few rising tears, and plucked the bulbs from the shelf. Now, with about half of the bulbs buried under the soil and half waiting to be planted, you listened to Roger’s words grow increasingly louder the closer he came to where you sat crouched in the dirt. You wished you hadn’t listened, though. For he only brought you sorrow.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Roger when he had come to tell you of your brother’s passing, it was simply that it was near impossible for you to imagine a world without the eccentric boy you’d grown up alongside. Sure, you’d been separated for some time now, but you’d grown used to knowing that even if he wasn’t with you, he was still somewhere fighting for the justice he believed in. To be told that he suddenly wasn’t in this world anymore…? You had to see it for yourself. So, despite Roger’s warnings, you ran inside and booked a flight to Japan as soon as you could. In your blind panic, you must have trampled the remaining bulbs you had yet to give life to.

…

The flight was stressful, the landing equally so. The drive to the task force building – torture. By the time you made it out of the car and through the doors of the task force building, you swore your throat was closing up. A glass of water was offered to you and, gratefully accepting the offer, you glugged the water down in a matter of seconds before someone else was offering you a seat.

You sat, pulling your legs up and curling them in. The chair was then pushed into place at a table and the man who offered it to you…placed a hand on your shoulder…?

You jolted, the empty cup in your hands almost toppling out of your grip.

“I’m sorry…! I should have asked first. My apologies…and my condolences.”

He appeared younger than everyone else around you. Young enough to be just about your age. His apologetic smile shone down on you like a beacon of light in the dark and dreary times you had seemingly been trapped in for so long. After that thought, you had stared in disbelief when he told you his name. Light. Fitting, you thought.

Light placed a hand onto the chair next to you, looking at you as if for permission. You nodded vaguely, hoping to convey your silent gratitude for him being so considerate. It wasn’t as if no one else had been this kind to you since hearing about the news, it was more so that you got the sense Light actually cared rather than simply spouting out the usual ‘I’m sorry’s you’re supposed to when someone experiences a loss. His words were not empty; they were full of life and intent. What that intent was, you didn’t know, but you wanted to keep feeling it over the usual hollow atmosphere you and your brother grew up in. So, before you knew it, you were spending hours at a time talking with Light Yagami, the very man who would be taking over the Kira case since your brother’s death.

It was indeed shocking to you how someone so young, even young in comparison to L, could lead an entire investigation. Granted, he had the rest of the task force by his side, but after only one day of observing their dynamic, you could feel the disconnection between them. Light was multiple steps ahead of them; there was no question about it. At times you got the sense he was keeping things from them. But, then again, you were almost certain L had done the same thing while he was leading them. It was difficult to blame someone so intelligent when they wanted to save time and not explain to everyone what their plan is, but lead them all like sheep. It would be faster that way, easier too.

With that final thought, the pedestal you were putting Light on became visible to you. But it couldn’t be a bad thing. It was normal for you to look up to your brother, yes? With Light, it was a different sensation altogether, but the same idea. You admired him, and you couldn’t see the harm in that when he was rubbing your back in comforting circles as you cried, talking to you and telling stories when you wanted to focus on something else. He was helping you, and because he wanted to, no less.

…

It was a strange sensation to wake up and have everyone you know suddenly become cautious around you, treating you like glass that would break if they said the wrong thing. After just a few minutes of this, you knew exactly what day it was. It somewhat startled you, your brother’s funeral being so soon. You wondered if the date had been pushed up, but no. You had simply been…distracted. In a good way, that is. When you first arrived in Japan, you thought that nothing but dread would accompany your visit. You had no clue how you would make it through the couple of days leading up to the funeral, how you would occupy your time. Sightseeing felt disrespectful. Besides, how could you appreciate fine architecture or lush greenery with such a weight in your heart, spreading throughout your body like a disease? What you hadn’t expected was to find someone who seemingly made everything more bearable. Someone who made the days pass faster.

This special someone helped you into your outfit – all black, casual yet put together. Light was gentle with you that day. Not skittish or cautious like the others were, but soft and loving. He would touch you, hands on your shoulders and a brush of his fingers through your hair every now and then, but it would be feather light and comforting all the same. He knew exactly how to make you feel noticed and cared for, but not in the least bit overwhelmed with affection – a perfect medium.

Driving to the graveyard was not as stressful as your initial drive from the airport. You originally suspected this was the case because you had time to accept the reality of it all; you were able to let the information ferment and sink in. But, as you got steadily closer to your destination and all the grief you had avoided for the last few days began to bubble to the surface of your mind, you realized this was not the case. What you had time to do was ignore the truth, become distracted as you always did. It had always been your way of dealing with your own problems. It was L’s problems you could face head on. But anything personal to you? No sir. You desperately wished you’d taken the time to develop a better coping mechanism as the car pulled into the small patch of asphalt among a sea of grass and graves.

You hadn’t even realized how fast you were breathing until Light clasped your hand, his free hand reaching to turn your head to face him directly. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” You nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to take slower, deeper breaths, alright?” you nodded again and followed his instructions – in then out at a slow pace, inhaling as deeply as you could before blowing the air from your mouth. You squeezed Light’s hand and sent him a weary smile when you had gathered your wits.

The fresh air did you good as you stepped out of the car, shoes crunching in the loose grains of asphalt and soon gliding through blades of grass. You started to calm down, internally congratulating yourself for not freaking out with each step. This was the continued routine until the gravestone came into view. The task force was heading toward it, so no doubt it was L’S. It was marked by a fairly large, golden cross that reflected the setting sun like a mirror. You ducked your head, pretending that it was indeed the sun in your eyes that caused you to stop and cover your face. You waved for Light to go on ahead and assured him you would meet him there in a bit. You were absolutely sure no one bought your excuse, but they still respected your wishes and left you behind to gather around your brother’s grave while you turned your back to it.

You walked back to the car almost on autopilot. You could barely see, so you trained your eyes on the ground as tears freely flowed down your cheeks, not a sound leaving your lips until you were safely beside the vehicle you arrived in. You stomped your foot in the asphalt, kicked the loose pebbles around, feeling just like the child you used to be. Throwing a tantrum was not on your funeral to-do list, but there you were. You just didn’t know if you could bear it, seeing your brother for the last time as nothing but a slab of stone. You could sit by it, protect it all you wanted but it would never need you. Not like he used to. You could plant those lilies you had abandoned by it. That wasn’t actually a terrible idea.

You didn’t know how long you were standing there, pacing in the middle of the parking lot. Mustn’t have been too long, as the sun hadn’t even passed over the horizon, but it felt like an eternity.

Until…what was that? Something caught your attention, causing your head to snap up in search for the source. The others were nowhere in sight, all that stirred were a couple of birds from a nearby tree. That could have been another family visiting a grave, which would make sense given that the noise sounded similar to hysterical crying. Or…was that laughter?

You began to grow worried, deciding on a whim to check up on the others. You wouldn’t approach the grave unless you had to, you decided. Yeah, good plan, you managed to convince yourself as you took steps toward the grave. With every few feet, the noises grew louder, and you were soon able to recognize words. You sped up your pace until you made it over the hill that separated the parking lot from the field only to find…

What was Light doing on the ground? No, a better question would be: what was Light – the person who was working his ass off to catch Kira – doing kneeling on your brother’s grave, shouting that he would get rid of the police? That this is his perfect victory? That he wins?

You felt…what? What could sum up that feeling that filled your chest when that sight was exposed to you? You felt confused, you felt unsure. Then, with the realization of what was going on, you felt betrayal. Then, in a sudden wave intense enough to make you feel as though you would fall over, you felt furious. You felt a sudden need to protect your older brother just like you had done for years with playground bullies and critics, but this time with someone you thought you could trust. Someone you loved who had apparently taken advantage of your care for him – someone who had lied to your face about who they truly were.

Before you knew it you were sprinting across the field. You had no clue what you were going to do until you got to the grave and quite literally kicked him off the soil your own flesh and blood was buried under. The move was so swift you wondered if it had actually happened or if this was all some sick nightmare. God, you hoped it was. Although you almost didn’t want to pray to god now, as there was a self-proclaimed god sitting with the wind knocked out of him at your feet.

“You…you GODDAMN FUCKING TRAITOR—” you couldn’t tell if Light was actually looking at you with eyes glinting with fear or if the sunset lighting was playing tricks on you. “THAT’S MY FUCKING BROTHER—YOU CAN’T—I SHOULD NEVER HAVE—” It was impossible to finish a sentence or even a thought in your own brain. There were so many things you wanted to say and kill him for but right now everything was jumbled together.

The way Light was staring at you didn’t exactly help. Eyes that now looked red in the setting sun bore into your own pupils from the ground. He looked dead serious, almost angry that you had the guts to knock him to the ground in your fit of rage. But although your words were coming out in screaming stutters your movements seemed swift and sure, as the moment Light moved to stand up your foot flew to action once more and planted right onto his chest. His back met the ground for a second time. He wasn’t even trying to contain his fury, clawing at your ankle and baring his teeth like a dog trying his best to be intimidating, but still eager to know what you were planning to do next. After all, he could have easily shoved you off. But he was curious.

You spoke calmly now, mind set on what you wanted to ask. “You never cared about me, did you?” Light’s mouth opened to answer but you went on without letting him speak. “No, you cared about me, but only because my brother was L, and I could give you information now that he’s gone. Am I right?” again, his mouth opened, but when your heel unexpectedly dug into his chest he let out a pained and irritated groan instead of coherent words. It was like you were teasing him, not to get a laugh out of his pain but…for what? You barely even knew yourself. It wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t make you less humiliated for being tricked and it certainly wouldn’t bring your brother back. Either way, Light definitely didn’t like it.

Before you had the chance to react you were thrown onto your back. Light had pushed you back by your leg and rose to his feet, now above you in every sense of the word. He – Kira – had carried out his plan. Meanwhile, you had nothing left.

“You don’t have to go against me,” Light seethed, “All you have to do is let the new world take its shape, and everything will fall into place.”

“That’s a shitty sales pitch.”

“It’s an offer. You’ve done nothing wrong, committed no crimes. You’d do well in my world.” The look on your face made it apparent that you had no interest in his words. Light furrowed his brows, then the ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I know you –”

“You don’t know anything about me. And I clearly didn’t know you.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows.

“—you wouldn’t want your brother’s death to be in vain.”

“I—” you paused. “What?”

“L was an obstacle I had to pass to get to a world where less people would have to suffer the same loss you have. I expect you don’t want to just throw away his death and turn me in. you can make something out of his sacrifice—“

“He wasn’t TRYING to be sacrificed; he was TRYING to put a vigilante maniac to death.”

“But if his death could mean a better world for others, you would just throw that away for your own revenge?”

You blinked, once, twice, then rapidly, shaking your head as if trying to prevent dust from getting into your eyes, or Light’s siren song from getting into your head. “Stop. That’s not…Just stop.”

“You know I’m right.” He stepped towards you and for a second you thought he was about to repay you for crushing his lungs moments ago. All that followed was his hand shooting out, stopping in front of your face. You looked up at him in disbelief. “I’ll love and care for you as I did before. I can be the one you care for in his place. All I ask is that you help me create a better world, or at least don’t try and stop me.”

You nearly scoff, but some of his words actually catch your attention. He’d love and care for you…but it would all be fake. Still, what kind of person would you be to reject others a grief-less world just to avenge your brother? But who ever said Light would follow through, not become corrupt along the way if he wasn’t already? There were so many possibilities and so many possible outcomes, all influenced by this one decision that you had to make right now.

You choked on your words.

Familiar voices were approaching.

Time was ticking.

“I…”

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 2

Part 1

This is gonna be many more parts... I can already tell 

Word Count: 2.2k

SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader!

- Admin Myah

You spent your entire free period up on that roof, hoping by some miracle that you weren’t crazy, that the group of second-year students that had seemingly vanished before your eyes were in fact pranking you, and upon seeing that you weren’t amused, would get tired of hiding and pop out, finishing the surprise. No such luck, however, and so you left, the second-period bell forcing your hand. Spending the first period of your day - a bit of free time meant for studying, finishing homework, or otherwise enriching yourself educationally - up on the roof and unaccounted for by any teachers was a bit risky already, and you were a decent enough student. There was no way you could just sit there all day, skipping the rest of your classes. Sighing, you resolved to just give up the hunt for your destined main character and by extension the group of potential new friends.

＊

Often after school, you headed to the library, which stayed open along with a select few other areas of Shujin for student use after the last bell rang. Today, however, you felt drawn back to that place, back to that rooftop where you’d seen Akira, Ryuji, and Ann disappear hours earlier. It just wasn’t sitting right with you; you felt a stirring in your soul, like a tiny voice in your head, a shimmering blue butterfly in your stomach. Lucky for you, the rooftop was also open, though you’d never really spent time there. Certain students, including another third-year you admired raised plants up there where the sun could reach them, while others simply came up there for the view or the breeze, some private space to study.

Today, the breeze was indeed blowing, and you sat there writing as it whistled past your ears, polishing up some plot points, scrawling down ideas for your protagonist straight from the imagination, since it seemed you wouldn’t be finding any real-life inspiration anytime soon. It was frustrating, writer’s block, and for the past month or so, it’s all you could do to write a single paragraph. You always found yourself lost in the pages of the novels you loved, and you could identify great writing, appreciate the artistry of another writer, but it was sometimes so hard to put your own thoughts down on the pages of your journal. Why was it so hard? You knew what real romance was. You knew which themes and cliches were overdone and unrealistic. You had a mature and healthy outlook on real relationships and could pick apart the stereotypical female protagonist who was strong and independent until she met the man who would break down her walls or the toxic bad boy who women loved on paper but would cry their eyes out over in real life. You’d read thousands of books and fan-fiction, listened to hundreds of audiobooks, watched tons of romance movies, so why, lately, was it not clicking?! Where was the disconnect between having thoughts and transcribing said thoughts down into your very own masterpiece? Fantasy came so easily to you, sci-fi, non-fiction essays for class, mysteries, research papers, but romance, the genre you loved the most, seemed to purposely elude you.

You were shaken out of your frazzled state when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Shaking your head a bit to try and focus your vision, you looked over your shoulder to see that the black spot on the fringe of your blind spot was in fact actually there. You rubbed your eyes just to be sure, but there it was, a wavering black inky spot hovering in the air. Another appeared, then another, now red in color. You were beginning to feel insane for the second time that day, but rather safe than sorry, you quickly stood, shoving your work and pencils into your bag and shuffling away from the blobs, which were now oscillating and dancing around each other, phasing in and out of existence like a fisheye lens. This was a bit too freaky for your liking, and you were beginning to feel a frightening chill up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you elected to put some kind of barrier of safety between yourself and the floating bubbles. Like any rational person, your mind was screaming “unknown situation: possible threat: run!” but again, that little butterfly in the pit of your guts was saying there was something worth staying for. So, running to the door to the roof, you swung it open, a ringing in your ear starting to buzz and chime. You closed it frantically, pressing your nose up against the small glass windows that allowed a limited view of the roof. A small gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto your bag a bit tighter.

The red and black splotches began to dissipate and fade like some kind of glitch in reality, and three figures appeared like mist, like ghosts before beginning to solidify and slowly become tangible silhouettes. Then, as if some kind of magic ritual was coming to a close, the figures poofed into existence, and your brain processed the scene before you.

“Holy shit…” you whispered. There, clear as day were Sakamoto, Takamaki, and the new kid. They were just standing adjusting their clothes, stretching their arms and legs, situating their personal items. It was just then that you saw a little furry head poke up out of Akira’s school bag. Your harsh, analytical gaze softened a bit upon seeing the small black cat that appeared. Had he been carrying that cat around all day? Surely not, right? How would he keep it quiet and still? “What the…?” The inquisitive glare returned to your features when they began… speaking to the cat. It wasn’t the cute baby talk people often use with their pets, either. It was a full-on, serious conversation, and the cat was meowing back, clearly, in response to their statements.

It was a bit muffled by the thick door, but you could make out bits and pieces.

 Metaverse? Palace. Shadows... treasure? Kamoshida? Great, that asshole, but what could he have to do with this? What even was this? 

You were questioning everything you knew. You were wondering if the juice you had this morning at breakfast was spiked. There was no winning in this scenario, either you were crazy, or these kids were. You looked downward, contemplating your navel as your mind tried to make sense of the events of today. You glanced up again, trying to eavesdrop a little better, get some more detail. You took a step closer, trying to will the sound of their voices through the door to be just a little louder, just a little clearer, when Sakamoto suddenly pivoted, stretching and cracking his spine with a sigh.

“Gah!”  You shouted out. His eyes met yours through the window and widened like a kid caught in the cookie jar. You jumped with a start, taking a cautionary step back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. It was a miracle you caught yourself in time, but your little outburst had definitely caught the attention of the group. Your cover was thoroughly blown. “Oh, no…” You cursed under your breath, spotting both Ann and Akira’s eyes on you now as well.

“Shit! Do you think they saw?” Ryuji’s hands flew to his hair, mussing and working out his frustrations on the dyed strands while simultaneously, Akira was already in motion, rushing toward the door to apprehend the unwelcome listener.

Your heartbeat sped up, and like a gazelle spotted by a lion, a fire was lit under you and you began to sprint, clumsily fumbling down the stairwell and onto the flat platform where the stairs rotated 90 degrees and continued downward. Inhaling sharply, your foot, nervous and supporting jelly-like legs, missed the final step. Your belongings, along with your body, spilled across the square, flat platform, and the door behind you slammed open.

“Hey!” Akira’s yell echoed through the stairwell, and your thoughts bounced off the walls just like his voice. Scrambling, you scooped only the essentials into your hands: your journal, the phone of course, a few homework binders, ditching the easily replaceable items like chewing gum and pencils. Taking to one scraped-up knee and ready to bolt, you felt a hand close upon your bicep and clamp down firmly. “Hey, hey… slow down.” Akira again, now gentler with his tone, spun you around to face him. You stood clutching your things to your chest like a life preserver. “I’m not gonna like… kill you or anything.” A breathy chuckle, and now he was on the platform next to you, scanning you up and down for injuries with his hands in his pockets. “So, uh… so don’t kill yourself by fallin’ down these stairs, huh?” He played off the tense feeling in the air with humor, but the sheer proximity of him, standing there in front of you mere inches away in the cramped space, it was like you could hear your blood pounding in your ears.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think you were some weirdo stalker? I mean, you’d just met him this morning and now you were watching him through a small window like a creep after school… after following him there. Wait, that wasn’t important right now! Was he going to kill you? He didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type to phase in and out of existence either… neither did Ryuji and Ann… what were people with powers like that capable of?

Right now, you were just going to mind your business, and play it safe. It wasn’t worth getting mixed up with people who warp through a “metaverse” and talk to animals just for some good writing material, not if it turned out to be dangerous.

“Well…” you hesitated, “it’s none of my business, what I just saw, and I won’t tell anyone.” You breathed a little easier, tried to regain your composure, to not look too weak.

“So they did see! Awww, shit!” Ryuji’s head popped through the door, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation, and the hot air of the enclosed space was cut through by a gust of wind from the now open rooftop door.

“Now, just hold on, Ryuji,” Akira held out one hand to placate his rather temperamental friend.

“No, no really it’s fine that you talk to your… cat and just… vanish... and I’m sure it’s all fine and multiverse-y and…”

“Metaverse.” Akira corrected you with a small smile, bending down to pick up the rest of your scattered objects.

“Dude!” Ryuji ran a hand down his face in defeat.

“They saw us, no point in being tight-lipped,” he stood, handing them to you.

“Metaverse… right,” you took them, watching every move he made carefully. “Sorry, I’m… a bit more... eloquent in my writing,” you moved to the side, ready to sneak past and descend the rest of the stairs. Anything to get on with your day and escape this unbelievable situation. Akira shuffled, mirroring you and completely blocking the stairwell. There was something clever about him, something sharp and charismatic. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted to achieve, and he knew how to calmly and smoothly execute his plans, unlike Sakamoto, who was far less… organized.

“Writing…?” He was keeping you locked into this conversation, as gently and amiably as he could, and you were not leaving until he was sure he could trust your word.

“Uh… yeah, that’s why I was up…” your eyes met his, quickly recoiling and looking toward the floor again, “...up on the roof. I was just looking for a quiet place to write.”

“What, uh, what kind of stuff do you write?” Ann had now joined Ryuji at the top of the stairs, leaving you feeling completely caged in. Ann threw Akira - who seemed like the leader of the small band of misfits - a desperate glance, a sort of look that seemed to ask: “Where are you going with this? Are we screwed?”

“It’s… it’s kind of private. It’s just… romance stuff. I don’t know, I do all kinds of different stuff, whatever I’m in the mood for.” Akira nodded, more to his friends than you, something you had a feeling you weren’t supposed to pick up on. He stuck his hand out flat, gesturing toward the rooftop behind you. You took the hint, heading a bit anxiously back up the stairs, Ryuji and Ann making way for you.

“You any good?” Akira followed behind you, and now on the rooftop once again, the cool air felt freeing, less constricting, though his question felt a bit insulting, a bit nosey.

“I don’t know… I’ve been told I am…” The three friends took a seat in areas that seemed very familiar to them, like they’d been up here warping in and out of this realm many times before. Now settled into place, Ann spoke up, obviously as apprehensive as you were:

“Well do you… do you think…?” Her high-pitched voice seemed to be hesitant, not yet confident in her next words, not sure if they were all on the same page.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Akira smirked as if the three had one mind. He turned to you, trying to make eye contact that you vehemently avoided. “How would you feel about helping us out?”