#high chances I forgot to mention something i wanted to talk about

[calekinnieplus]

Would you look at that? I've read 5 hours today. Not too shabby. Also reached chapter 550, noice

Anyway, Klein just Loves involving himself in matters concerning gods, huh? Not that I'm complaining, it's very entertaining

This time it was a goddamn Sea God, Kalvetua (I had to double check how to spell that name).

Poor Danitz, he is now tied to Gehrman Sparrow for a while. He is definitely fine with that hahaha. (He kinda reminds me of Emlyn, with his reluctant cooperation with Klein lmao)

Edwina Edwards is so cool tho. Imagine havimg the authority to convince a bunch of pirates to attend classes. Badass.

Just Elland is a cool guy, too. I appreciate his fairness. He is great for that (He's like Detective Isengard Stanton: the Sea version heh)

Alger is such a crafty fox lmao. His eye for the perfect opportunity is impeccable, very admirable. o7 to you, Mr Hanged Man. Here's to your future advancement to Sequence 6 🥂 love seeing you more in this volume, Mr Wilson

Audrey and Fors advanced to Sequence 7 and 8 respectively! Good for them! They're so lovely, but they have less of a focus this arc, it seems. That's alright, each character brings something interesting to the table when it's time.

And of course! I can't go to sleep before I mention how much of an absolute BADASS Klein - or should I say, Gehrman Sparrow - has been in these chapters!! HE'S SO EPIC AND SMART AND RESOURCEFUL AND CAREFUL AND STRATEGIC AND RUTHLESS AND- kind. At his core, it's still Klein Moretti. And Klein Moretti is kind. Even in this world, which seems to desire madness and chaos. Kudos to Klein. Keep it up, dear boy

Until next time :)

[bunnys-kisses]

Hello!!! How are you?🫶🏻✨

First of all, I love your writing, you have a marvellous mind. Pls keep doing what you're doing, it's chef kiss 🤌🏻🩷

Secondly, I would like to make an order I can share and enjoy with Lando 😉 Can we have a carrot cake, a chocolate chip cookie and a custard tart with a mocha coffee and a double espresso shot?

We know the mix is a bit too much but we trust you. Thank you very much in advance. Xx ♥️

the bakery menu

feel free to order your own treats! as for this order i am happy to serve up something sweet! i really hope you like this, i am proud of it! i'm also surprised of the amount of lando norris everyone wants!

carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + custard tarts ("i've never done this before.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, oral sex (femme receiving), dirty talk, engineer!reader, driver!lando, virgin!reader, oral sex (lando receives),

lando loved you. he really did, not only were you his favourite engineer, you were also his girlfriend. lando didn't want to mess it all up and going too fast. but after almost five months of dating, you two had never had sex.

not that lando really minded, he wasn't some horny dog who needed his dick wet all the time. he wanted to cherish and love you. but sometimes, he'd let his mind wander at thoughts of you.

a particular one that bounced around in his mind, a personal favourite was the one where he bred you. that was for when you weren't with the team at races, and it was just lando and his fist.

thoughts of you in his arms, his cock bullied into your sweet pussy. his filthy words in your ear. sweet promises that he was going to breed you nice and well. and anytime you tried to mention your career, he'd just kiss you quiet. promising that you could still be an engineer with a couple of norris kids.

the thought of that made his cock ache every time he thought about it. belly full of life that the could snuggle after a race, taking your kids to the park. being a proper family. it always sent him over the edge and left a huge mess in his boxers.

but before he could make sure you were all full of his cum, he'd needed to have his first time with you. it wouldn't be fair to get you pregnant on your first time!

it was the off-season and you were back home. you two didn't live together, but you were over often. often scolding your boyfriend for misuse of the oven or something else that would be considered silly. he'd just smile and smooth the lines in your face with kisses.

the break between seasons felt like the perfect chance to finally get intimate with you. there was no jet-lag or running around. there was no sleepless nights and high anxiety days. you two could rest and get familiar with one another.

he was watching you check the pasta in the pot to see if it was fully cooked yet. he licked his lips and crossed his arms before he asked, "love, do you even think about us getting.. closer?"

you looked over and chuckled, "lando, i think it's a little too soon for us to live together."

lando scratched the back of his neck and replied, "no, no.. not yet. i mean, if you're comfortable. maybe we could try... having sex?" he felt his blood pressure jump.

you put the wooden spoon down on the counter and looked to your boyfriend. your mouth was in an 'o' shape for a moment before you said, "oh! sex!"

lando laughed, "you forgot about sex? i mean... did you ever think about sex.. sex with us?" he knew you weren't asexual or something akin to it, he knew that you masturbated and what not. you just never were in a situation where you would've had sex. and lando didn't want to shove it onto you.

your face went hot, "i mean... of course! i was just worried about having sex during the season!" you scratched your neck nervously, "i was worried that you'd pull something and your performance on the track would be worse. or that a change in the routine before and after races would ruin your chances of a good season."

lando laughed, "oh my god, love. come here." he got closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. then kissed you on the top of your head.

you looked at him, "i'm sorry. i didn't realize! but yes! i would love to have sex with you! but it might take a while. i've never even given a blow job."

lando kissed you once more, "how about after dinner, we start with that? we have a few months to get a little.. closer."

you nodded eagerly, "of course! i'd love to!" you heard the water boil over out of the pot and onto the stove. you got out of your lover's arms to check on the food.

lando felt excited. how could he not. he was getting a chance to feel intimate with his lovely girlfriend. the excitement that coursed through him even made your lovely dinner taste better!

-

"is there anything you want to try before we start. anything i can do to make this more comfortable." he asked as he looked down at you. you were seated on the bed. you feet didn't touch the floor of the bedroom. it was cute.

you swallowed, "um... i, uh. well." you looked away, your cheeks burned.

lando cupped your face and looked down at you, "nothing is gonna scare me, honey." he smiled at you, "tell me."

you said, your gaze met with him, "i.. i like dirty talk. anytime i've read it somewhere in like a story.. i found it very hot. and i know you're... mouthy." you chuckled a little to make a joke.

"well then." he said, "i'll keep that in mind."

you said a little nervously, "i'm a little nervous, i've never done this before." you felt a thrill of excitement through your body as you watched lando let go of you and pull his cock out of his shorts.

"don't worry, love." he said, "i'll make sure you feel good as well."

you pressed your cheek against his abdomen, letting him take control. the sight of his cock stirred something in you. a need for you to do your best and make your boyfriend feel good. even if you didn't have the skills, you were eager to learn.

and who would be a better teacher than your loving boyfriend. you closed your eyes and let lando guide your head onto his cock. you kissed his length before you softly took it in your mouth.

lando hissed through his teeth, but when you looked at him nervously he gave you a thumbs up, "don't worry. all good."

you took more in your mouth and started on a steady pace. you felt your heart hammer in your chest. you really had never done this before but you didn't want the excitement to cause you to mess up.

"that's it. that's a good girl." he groaned, the praise made you rub your thighs together. you were just so adorable. he couldn't wait to explore every inch of your sweet body.

he had all of the off-season to make love to you. and if he was lucky maybe his breeding kink could show a bit of himself. that made his cock twitch in your mouth.

your eyes were closed and your hands were on his hips to steady yourself as you orally pleasured him. you weren't terrible, at least in lando's opinion.

"are you sure this is your first time doing this?" he asked softly. you looked up at him once more, eyes gleaming. you nodded and little and lando laughed, "hmm, i don't know. you're really good at this." the praise made your core throb and lando noticed. he held onto your hair a little tighter and moved you a little further down his cock, "don't worry, love. it doesn't bite." and laughed. his cheeks were pink from the rush in his body.

you whimpered as you continued. you kept an ear open for all the noises that lando was making. from his heavy breathing to the shudder through his body. you trusted him that if you were doing something wrong, he'd tell you.

"you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat" he cooed at you, "i wonder what the rest of the team would feel if they saw you like this. i know some of them have thought about you, get a few drinks in 'em and they're talking about how they want to be the one to ruin your virginity." he laughed, "but i know i'll be the one to ruin them for you. you'll only want my cock."

you whimpered, your pussy was slick. this was hottest thing you've ever thought could happen. yeah, you've read erotic fiction and gotten a bit flustered. but this was something else. this sent a shock through you as you continued to pleasure him.

orgasm felt sharp in his mind. he softly guided you as the dirty talk tumbled out of his mouth. "i wonder if i could make you choke next time." he panted, "i wonder how good you could take me. i want all of you, love. i want to see all the ways i could make you cum. i want it all, and we got all of the off-season to see what makes you tick."

you whimpered.

"my pretty girl." he purred, it made your heart leap.

"lando." you said with a glaze in your eyes. your voice was muffled by the cock in your mouth and it was so painfully cute but also erotic that it sent lando over the edge.

his pretty girl, his little engineer with his cock stuffed in your throat. it couldn't get better than that. the words tumbled out of his mouth, "swallow it. all of it." and the look you gave made him easily cum down your throat. he almost got hard for a second time when he saw how dutifully you swallowed it all down.

"holy shit." he panted.

as you laid back on the bed to catch your breath. you knew the night wasn't over because lando was soon between your legs with your calves over his shoulders. it was only fair that he returned the favour.

after all, he learned something very important about his girlfriend. she was easy to get wet. <3

[jjkilll]

-——-— ✫ FALSE GOD | JJK ✫ —-———-

— pairing | bestfriend/fuckbuddy jk x y/n

— summary | After a date, a very jealous Jungkook wants to remind you that there is no love like his.

—  warning | smut, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (eeeekkkk)

— word count | 1.7K

— song | False God - Taylor Swift

You shuffle into your shared apartment, shedding yourself your coat and shoes. Jungkook sat on the couch watching a movie, his arms folded.

You and Jungkook started fucking around after one night of drunken sex. When you needed him he came running. No distance or circumstance could stop him from getting to you. When you landed on the friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook stopped bringing girls home. He was usually the type to bring a girl home whenever he went out with his friends, but it's been a ghost town since. You figured it was just out of respect for your newfound relationship. You never got jealous... well you never got jealous and showed it. Jungkook went on plenty of dates, you were afraid just a little bit. What if this date went so well, that he forgot all about you. It wouldn’t be just the sex you'd miss, It'd be the fact that, whenever you called the chances of him dropping everything to get to you would drop to zero. You loved him; he was your best friend and you'd do anything to ensure he'd stay.

But, when Jungkook reached his fourth date with Miyeon, you figured it was time to start dating around too. You and Jungkook weren't dating, that's something often had to remind yourself. Yeah, you slept together, a lot, but he wasn't your boyfriend. Just your best friend with whom you had casual sex with.

Mingyu was a friend of Jungkook's, he was nice and funny and had always taken an interest in you. So when he asked you to grab dinner, you figured it wouldn't be a big deal.

"How was it?" Jungkook asked arms still folded, his eyes never leaving the screen. He tried to not make it obvious when he was jealous but it never worked. You always saw right through him. He was pissed, maybe because it was Mingyu, or maybe it was the thought that he had to share you. You weren't sure, but you weren't going to ask.

"Great actually. We went to that fancy Italian place downtown." You explain. Truly the date went well, Mingyu was chatting you up and making you laugh. He talked about his job and asked about yours. He asked how you met Jungkook and you explained that you two had been friends since your junior year of high school. After talking about Jungkook, he never left your mind. You found your mind drifting wondering if he might've been bored at home without you, or even worse fucking Miyeon. You were snapped back into reality when Mingyu complimented you. You felt bad, a hot guy was sitting right in front of you and all you could think about was if your best friend was fucking someone else.

He hums, "Good," was all he said. Man, he sucked at hiding his jealousy. You flopped down beside him. "You look pretty." He said glancing over at you. He always thought you were beautiful, regardless of the circumstance. You could've just rolled out of bed hung over and he'd still think you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. "Thank you." You replied sweetly. "Did he tell you?" He asked sighing. "Tell me what?" You asked curiously. "That you look pretty." He responded, arms still crossed eyes locked on the screen. He wasn't even paying attention the the film, quite frankly he wasn't even interested. He only turned in on and skipped through once he realized you were on your way home. He had been sitting in silence waiting on you anxiously. Hoping and Praying Mingyu wouldn't follow behind. He had the biggest sigh of relief when it was just you.

"Yeah, he said it a lot actually. I felt like I wasn't complimenting him enough," you chuckle. "So, are you going to go out with him again?" He asked this time turning his head to look at you. You had been looking at him the whole time, watching him struggle to control his face when you even mentioned Mingyu. "Uh, he didn't ask me out again, at least not in person but I'm hoping he'll text me." He scoffed.

"What?" You asked, you knew what was wrong, you just wanted to hear him say it. "Nothing." He said not wanting to start anything. He knew that you weren't his girlfriend. "Jungkook, don't lie to me please." He huffed. "It's just... Why him?" You're taken aback, he's really mad. The thought of Mingyu touching you the way he touched you made him want to wring his neck.

"He's nice and sweet, you know this." You respond simply. "So am I." He mutters under his breath. "What?" you asked playing dumb. You heard him, you needed to know if he wants you as bad as you want him. "I said, so am I. What makes me different than him." He looks you in the eyes, no trace of a joke. "You're dating Miyeon, I don't see why me dating Mingyu is such a big deal." You say confused. He chose to go out with her, why does it matter if you do it.

He pauses the movie before he continues, "I only went out with her so I could stop thinking about you! You fucking consume my thoughts! Every time you're not around me I wonder what you're doing, who you're talking to, what you ate, who's looking at you... who's touching you. I shouldn't feel that way about you but I do. So yeah, you fucking one of my friends doesn't excite me. I'm sorry," He says angrily. He's now looking away from you. His hands balled into a fist. You're sure if Mingyu was here, he'd probably deck him in the face. You don't like how angry is he, his neck is turning red and his ears might as have had steam blowing out of them. "I'm glad you had fun, I just wish that it was with me." He breathes out.

You lift your hand to his chin and turn his face to you. His eyes are dark but soften when they meet yours. He examines your face, you're not upset with him and he was relieved. "Tell me what you really need to stay, baby." You say softly. He sighs, his neck cooling down and he takes a deep breath before speaking, "I like you y/n. I have since the day we met, and I was fine with being your friend because I'd rather have some of you than none. I can't sit back and watch you fall for someone else. That shit might kill me. That shit will kill me." He spoke, his eyes locked in yours.

You lean in, "I'd rather die than live without you," you whisper. "So have me. All of me, because I want all of you." His lips crash onto yours, and he kisses you like you are going to disappear into thin air.

He kisses you and you fall back onto the couch. You're so small under him. Sometimes he'd be afraid that he might break you. Your kisses were so messy and deep, that your hips bucked up grinding against him. He moans into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, kissing your neck. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head then kisses down your tummy. His soft lips against your skin made you lose it. He unbuttoned your pants slipping his hand in rubbing circles on your clit. You moan and he silences you with a kiss. You grab his face with both of his hands. He plunges to fingers into your dripping cunt. You gasp against his lip letting his fingers stretch you out. "Fuck Jungkook please." You moan against his lips. "Tell me what you need baby." He says kissing your neck again, still fucking you with his long fingers. "Your mouth, please I need your mouth, Kook." You feel him grin against the softest part of your neck.

He sits up yanking your pants off of you. "These panties are so cute." He snaps the band against your skin making you whine. "Oh, I know baby. How bad do you need me?" He asks teasing you playfully. "Please Kook, I need you so badly, I need your tongue on me. Please please I'll do anything." He loved to hear you beg for him. He pulls your panties off of you and settles between your thighs. He lifts your legs over your shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs. "You smell so good, baby. I know you taste even better." He speaks before licking a long stripe up your folds. You moan pornographically. His tongue swirls around your clit driving you batshit crazy.

Jungkook's tongue was crazy, you thank every girl before you for teaching him all he knows because you've never had head like his. His fingers enter you once again, the sensation of his tongue and fingers has you about to fall apart. "Y-yes oh my fucking god, keep doing that." He hums against you. You run your hands through his hair. Your eyes roll back and before you know it you're coming and shaking. You struggle to keep your legs open but Jungkook holds you still. He continues fucking into you and quickens his pace curling his fingers.

You've barely had time to recoup before you feel like you're coming again. "Jungkook please fuck. I can't- I-" You struggle to breathe before your vision goes blurry and you're coming again. You squirt all over his face and fingers. He pulls his fingers out of you and sits back up kissing you. He slaps your pussy and you moan into the kiss. "Shit, that was so hot, I didn't know you could squirt." He chuckles. "Fuck me neither." He pecks your lips once more before sitting up completely. "Let's go get you in the shower baby." He lends you his hand helping you stand. "Wait, Jungkook you didn't come." His eyes widen a little. "Oh uhh" He looks away nervously. "I- I did." He sniffs and looks back at you. He looks down at his sweats noticing a wet spot. "That's so hot." You pull him closer. "It's a little embarrassing."

"You came in your pants just from eating me out. That's really fucking hot Jungkook. I turn you on that much huh?" You tease. "Stop coming in my pants twice is crazy." You laugh as he softly pushes you away. "Then how about... In the shower, you come in me." You say with a playful smile biting your lip teasingly. "Don't threaten me with a good time, baby." He lifts you carrying you to the bathroom.

Finally, you got him after pinning over him for so long. Jungkook is finally yours, and you are his.

✫ -----------------------✫

a/n: Something a little fun, I love this song and had the idea of doing something with Taylor's music like I did with Mac. Thank you for reading if you did. If you like please like and repost :D thanks for the support. feedback and requests are appreciated just inbox me.

[lihhelsing]

Part 3

Eddie can barely react when Steve offers to pick him up at his house for their date night.

Eddie is a nervous wreck at this point as he's been with everything that's related to Steve (or related to not-Steve). 

Ever since he first matched with him, Eddie felt like he was living in a parallel world because there was no way in hell someone like him would ever swipe right on someone like Eddie. And yet. It really happened. 

Well, at first it didn't, but then Steve called and said all those nice things to Eddie and fuck if he wasn't easy when someone flattered him. 

But Eddie was also a paranoid shit, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Steve to laugh at him and tell him it was just a prank. For him to ghost him - which maybe would be even worse. 

But Steve didn't and now he was waiting outside of his place in a fucking BMW? What the fuck was that? 

Steve looks good because he always does. They had been exchanging pictures of themselves as they talked and even when Steve was all sweaty and gross from a workout he still looked good. Eddie compensated with good angles and dork faces that Steve said time and time again were adorable. 

He insisted so much that he thought Eddie was cute that Eddie was almost believing him. He had also tried his hardest for their date, putting on some of his favorite clothes, a band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans that made him look good. His hair was down because it felt like a good armor if he needed to hide from something. 

Steve doesn't even give him time to anything before he's smiling and saying 'you look so handsome,' and placing his hand on Eddie's thigh and fuck, he forgot how to breathe. 

"Thanks, you, uh, you look good, too," Eddie blabbers and Steve chuckles and it's adorable. He's adorable and Eddie is losing his shit. 

"Ready for our date?" Steve smiles and turns the car on, his hand heavy on Eddie's leg still. There's a part of Eddie that's sure he's the farthest thing from ready, but this is happening, no question. 

X

Somehow, Eddie tricks Steve into inviting him over after the movie is over. Steve said he wanted to take him to dinner, but he failed to mention dinner was actually eating popcorn and candy at a drive-in. 

Eddie had no notes. 

After the movie started, he managed to relax a bit. Steve seemed to feel it because he, too, relaxed and when they were done with their food, he offered his hand for Eddie to take. He felt giddy like a high-schooler and like Steve had, somehow, known Eddie never had the chance to do any of that in high school.

Despite his fancy car, Steve's apartment is more modest than Eddie expects it to be. He mentioned having a roommate who he's friends with, although he said he just met her over the internet and she hooked him up with the job. 

"So, is she like your best friend or something?" Eddie asks as Steve opens the car door for him as if he's a prince out of a fairy tale. 

"Oh, no. I mean, we're friends and we talk and I really like her company, but I don't think she likes me very much."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugs, but Eddie can tell it's a sore subject‌. Eddie gets it, though. For the little he knows Steve, he can already tell he cares a lot about people liking him or not. He also doesn't understand why someone wouldn't like Steve, but well, people are weird. 

"Is she out?" Eddie asks as they get in the elevator and Steve nods. 

"Yeah, she usually spends Friday nights at her girlfriend's place. That's why I normally get the Friday shift. I kind of hate being home alone and it's just a nice thing to do for her, I guess."

Eddie hums noncommittally. He's trying to piece Steve together, but it's hard because his looks and his posture sometimes say one thing and then he lets out this incredibly vulnerable information and it leaves Eddie confused. 

They walk in together and the place is small, but cute. There's an old couch and Steve tells him to sit down, saying he's getting them some drinks. Eddie doesn't want to drink, he wants to just grab Steve by the face and kiss him dumb. 

Steve doesn't take long and as he sits down, Eddie can't hold it anymore. He has no idea where all this bravado comes from, but he leans forward and pecks Steve on the mouth. Steve's eyes widen and Eddie is about to apologize when two hands cup his face and pull him forward. 

And then they are kissing. Really kissing. With tongue and little huffs that come out of Steve's mouth and Eddie feels like he's died. 

If he is, in fact, dead, then Eddie is going to make the best of it. He lets his hands move to Steve's waist and he pulls him in. He has no idea what he was trying to do, but Steve seems to be much more confident because he straddles Eddie's hips and then he's on top. 

"Fuck," Eddie says. He's completely out of breath and Steve feels so good like this. He grips his waist harder and Steve thinks it's a go-ahead for him to roll his hips down and Eddie sees stars. 

Steve kisses him like he's hungry for him, and it's a heady feeling. Eddie has kissed boys before, but no one that looked like Steve. No one that made his heart skip so many beats like he does. 

No one that seemed to want Eddie as much as Steve does right now. 

"Stevie," Eddie whispers. He's not even sure he managed to get the words out but Steve stops kissing his neck. His pupils are blown out and his mouth is red and swollen and Eddie did that. 

"Yeah?" Steve is out of breath, too. His chest rises and falls in quick intervals. 

"Can we slow down?" Eddie says when he catches his own breath. He's afraid of saying it because it makes him look pathetic, but he doesn't want to rush this. 

They've been talking for a month before they even went out, but Eddie still feels too raw and insecure and-

"Of course, baby," Steve interrupts Eddie's train of thought and he has a soft smile, but he doesn't move away. He's not repelled by Eddie. He leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. 

The pet name wraps itself around Eddie's heart. He's desperate to believe all of this means more than just a casual hook up but he knows he can't. Not yet. 

"Oh, wait! I saved a video I wanted to show you," Steve says as if they weren't eating each other a few short seconds ago. Eddie chuckles. He likes it. He likes how Steve can just roll with whatever Eddie throws his way. 

"Yeah, let's see this video," Eddie smiles, takes a moment to just admire Steve, hair a complete mess thanks to him, face flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looks perfect and Eddie wants to keep him so bad. 

"Wait, can you call my phone? I don't know where I put it." 

Much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve gets out of his lap and pats his pockets, frowning. He starts moving around the house and Eddie fishes his phone, dialing Steve's number from his contact list. 

He watches as Steve disappears back inside the kitchen and listens as his phone starts to ring right beside him, on the couch. Eddie can't see it, so he pushes his hand at the edges and pulls out Steve's phone. 

They must've been making out pretty hard for the phone to go this deeper on the couch. Eddie chuckles and presses the red button at the same time Steve comes back into the living room. 

"Found it! I left it at the kitchen counter when I grabbed us water," Steve says, waving a phone he has in his hands. Eddie frowns at him and holds out the phone he found. 

"Me too."

It's Steve's turn to look confused. "What?"

Previous | Next

[kurishiri]

01 . . . happy birthday, alfons! ˗ˏˋ🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— this is a fan translation of alfons’ second birthday story. for full enjoyment, i would recommend you to read his first birthday story and his and elbie’s past records story, but it’s not required!

— cw: smut 👍

——Mirror, mirror on the wall,

What, pray tell, entails the happiest birthday celebration of them all?

A scrumptious cake? A beautiful scene of the night? Or a surprise present? Perhaps, a most sweet, blessed kiss?

If I were able to shower your birthday with wonderful memories to make you happy,

and if you were able to bury that empty expression you sometimes show, with a genuine smile…

…I wonder how much of it would remain in your memory?

Kate: Hey, Alfons, could you clear your schedule a week from today?

Alfons: A week from today, you say? …My, now what might that day be?

Kate: Jeez, don’t tell me you forgot. Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?

Alfons: My birthday… Ahh! Now that you do mention it, indeed that would be the case.

Alfons clapped his hands together, as though having just realized just now.

Alfons: Do you plan to celebrate it, by any chance?

Kate: Of course! It’s a special day that comes around only once a year, and besides that, we couldn’t really do much for your birthday last year, so…

K: …that’s why, if anyone else invites you to something on that day, please decline. Like last year.

Alfons: Very well, I will do as you say then.

Kate: Great! I plan to have a packed schedule on that day, so you better be prepared!

Alfons: I see your words resemble that of a declaration of war. One that I accept.

A: Well then, I will be waiting most patiently like a good child, yes?

And so, holding onto the promise I made with Alfons, I made plans for his birthday.

However——

The night before his birthday, with a little bit of pleading from him, I couldn’t bring myself to say no, causing me to fall completely into his trap.

Kate: Mn—ahh… plea—sto…hh!

Alfons: Indeed… you can stop if you wish. I don’t have the slightest intention to restrain you here.

A: Go on now, by all means you may let go if you so wish. I won’t chase you down, after all.

(But even if you say to let go…)

I was on top of Alfons, straddling him, where our bodies connected.

I tried to let go by raising my waist, but…

Kate: …ah, mn…!

Just the slightest movement caused me to feel my insides being rubbed, enough for me to feel good,

and I ended up falling back down, the heat inside me reaching ever more deeply than before.

Kate: hh… haa…

Alfons: Dear me, was all your talk about wanting to stop naught but empty words?

Kate: That’s not… ahh…!

Holding my hips, he thrust into me from below,

and the pleasure I had been trying to hold back was forcibly brought out.

Kate: Hngh… I said ‘just a little,’ but this…!

Alfons: Hehe, that should be my line, no?

A: Seeming to want me so, and reluctant to let go, that’s your body, is it not?

Tonight as well, dragged into the waves of pleasure, I drowned in him.

—— The next morning ——

(I overslept…!)

It was the day of Alfons’ birthday, and yet when I awoke, the sun was already high into the sky.

(It’s because we did all those things late into the night…)

Kate: Hey, Alfons, wake up already!

Alfons: …In two hours I will.

Kate: We can’t afford to sleep away two more hours! Come on, let’s get ready quickly.

Putting aside his unreasonable demand to sleep in, I somehow dragged him out of the bed.

(I’ll celebrate so much so that Alfons can have an unforgettable birthday!)

first. next →

full masterlist 🪞🍰 ╱ ko-fi ☕ (30% of proceeds will go to doctors without borders for donations $17↑)

[keiicom]

Yjh things the Webtoon 'forgot' to mention or to point out bc they hate novel yjh

Warning for vague webtoon spoilers ig?? No spoilery names are named and no unreleased scenarios are mentioned/specified btw but I thought I'd add this warning just in case :)

He waited three days on the bridge for kdj to resurface after he dropped him in the Ichytosaurs mouth. Just. Waited there.

He smiles when Kdj tries his food and says it's good (it's more like a tiny smug smile tbh)

He is a WORRIER. Man worries about everything, but sucks at expressing it through actions bc that's when he's most easily misunderstood. It is EXTREMELY easy to misunderstand his actions unless the other characters ask him what he's doing and why [after he explains, he turns out to be actually really thoughtful tbh]

When he tells 41st round shin yoosung to "quit her blabbering"...he wasn't that harsh in the novel. The line was changed (still don't know why) but originally he said something about not having enough time, and wasn't a complete asshole.

Also during that same arc/scene it was revealed that he woke her up because he genuinely didn't think she'd attack him/be mad at him iirc, so it wasn't him being stupid, just somewhat naive

When Iris called KDJ ugly he actually stepped forward and intimidated her by glaring so she'd stop talking :) because he sensed fighting spirit in her and he decided to react lmao

His eyebrow moves similarly to a caterpillar when he's about to make an important decision (note: kdj points this out in the novel because he's always staring at yjh I swear to god there's proof)

Yjh puts on a 'cool' face when he's been caught or called out after trying to be sneaky (he's SO BAD at being sneaky istg I love this man so much)

He sometimes uses his skills for stupid and petty shit *said lovingly with heart eyes*

He's more likely to give someone/an NPC a quick death than to make them suffer until they die

He always goes along with KDJ's plans, even though Kdj barely tells him ANYTHING about them ever 😭 He glares but still goes along with them I NEED Y'ALL TO UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS- /lh

He drags his sword on the ground when he's happy/satisfied with something, or generally in a good mood. Also Loves to clean his sword (I think the webtoon added a scene of him cleaning the sword like. once)

He loves his sister more than anything (we haven't seen a lot of scenes with yoo mia AND yjh in the webtoon yet but I have high expectations for those knowing how much he adores her in the novel)

Mans RUNS to help every time kdj is in danger, unless he genuinely thinks kdj 1) can handle the situation himself or 2) deserves the punishment

He has MONOLOGUES in his head even though he only ever says like two sentences thakrhsjfjb, and is very eloquent when given the chance to explain his thought process/reasoning

[which kdj rarely lets him do. bc he's hellbent on doing the talking and most other characters don't expect yjh to talk anyway]

The hand holding scene that was turned into a weird wrist holding scene? Yes originally they held hands (he wasn't as angry then either)

He's a serial texter and will spam message people

He loves dumplings

He gets jealous when other people monopolize Dokja's attention for too long (also canon, ex: Sangah, [redacted 1], sometimes han sooyoung, [redacted 2], [redacted 3] 💀 and WILL glare at Kdj or demand answers depending on how severe the transgression is)

He's tired. So, so tired.

HE CAN LAUGH

he doesn't let Han Sooyoung live out of pride/not wanting to lose to kdj (???? what even was that). he lets her live because he doesn't want kdj to think poorly of him / alternatively he doesn't want to lose him as an ally. Not everything is about pride with him 🫠

he looks embarrassed after hearing yoo mia tell him he looks "happy when you talk about [kdj]". the narration also gives her statement some credibility, because "she knows him well since she's his sister". but of course they made him look angry instead of embarrassed 🙄 bc god forbid he shows any other facial expression ever

He's nosy (again: said lovingly with heart eyes). You'll notice how even when he pretends not to care, he'll still stick around to see how things develop/gather info on 'important' stuff. If he's not interested, he'll just leave, bc he's the kind of guy to just do that. So if he doesn't leave, even if he's pretending not to care... you see where I'm going with this

He has a sense of humor, believe it or not (though most of the time he's hilarious without meaning to)

When [redacted] asked yoo joonghyuk what his deal was with kdj and why he wanted him in his group he said "kdj is necessary for this world. I need him." but webtoon decided to skip that line 🫠

I'd add more but the rest is spoilers fhajhrjeka so yeah I'll just wait to see what webtoon does first and I'll update this as they go

Yjh says "I guess your mother doesn't like me" instead of this "like mother like son" bullshit, because the second one implies dokja doesn't like him. which couldn't be farther from the truth

Yoo Joonghyuk actually looks distraught when he realizes he's the one that has to kill [REDACTED]. To the point [REDACTED] has to tell him to not make that face.

He holds him tenderly as [REDACTED] falls, and tries to hang onto him as he's dragged away.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 13

You woke up the next morning, all the memories of the session with Helion flooding your mind and you blushed at the thought of Azriel kissing your forehead. Claude was slithering around your hands soothing them with its cold whisper.

“Why did he do that?” you asked with a sigh.

Because he cares. Claude whispered and caressed your cheek.

You hummed and closed your eyes again. It felt good to have someone care about you and the fact that it was Azriel the one who did, gave you too much comfort. You knew that the painful days were over, no one was going to fight you and you could finally enjoy your days here and have a semi-peaceful life. You thought about the mating bond, it would be an awful mistake to accept it, everyone could understand that a relationship between you and him would be toxic and it would probably destroy every chance you had to be a part of the night family. It would be so stupid of you to accept someone who treated you so poorly as a mate and even if he gave you the world, you would always feel naïve for giving him a chance.  So, friends it is. Friends. The thought of Aeden resurfaced, and you groaned. You had forgot about him the past days, you didn’t want to believe that he was a part of that but deep down you knew that you were a stranger to him, he would always choose his brother over you, and you couldn’t hold this against him. Everyone had someone else they would choose over you because they grew up with them and you were new here. You let a breathy laugh at the thought. You didn’t have anyone, you were a stranger amongst families and even if you went back to the winter court you wouldn’t have someone to care about you like they do with each other. Your parents’ death now felt both a curse and a blessing, you were truly alone in this world but at least you had your own personality now, or at least you were building one. Was being your own person enough? Was it something that could fill the void in your heart and mind? Would you do all of this again just to be free? You didn’t know but it doesn’t matter because you’ll never have the chance to decide.

You got up and got ready for the day, your hands were itching but the tremor had stopped, and you smiled. If the tremor stopped with one session you couldn’t even imagine what more sessions would do. You could barely hide your excitement as you practically ran to the dining room ready to explore more of Helion’s abilities. Rhysand, Azriel, Helion and Nesta were already in the room sitting around the table, eating fruits and talking.

“Good morning” you chirped and almost shoved Azriel to the ground when you jumped next to his chair and shoved your hands in his face. “Look the tremor stopped!”

Azriel chuckled at your excitement and leaned back to take a look.

“Woah that’s amazing!” he smiled and grabbed your hands to inspect them more.

Nesta and Rhys were gaping at you while Helion smirked.

You glanced at the high lord of the day court and your eyes watered “thank you so much” you said softly.

“I should be the one thanking you, without you and your trust to me I wouldn’t be able to practice on healing burns.” He said with a sad smile.

You had heard about him and Lady Autumn, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he is practicing to help her heal from Beron’s abuse, afterall his power is fire so he surely burns his wife. No, I’m overthinking, she also has fire power so she wouldn’t get burned. You thought but remained nauseous at the thought.

“You should eat before we have another session” Azriel said and pulled back the chair next to him.

You thought about the pain “maybe I shouldn’t, what if I throw up by the pain?”

He thought about it and sighed. “I will have a bowl next to you just in case. You need to be strong so not eating is not an option.”

He was right, so you took a seat next to him and a plate appeared in front of you.

“I will only eat fruits” you said more to yourself but smiled when Azriel hummed and nodded.

Rhysand was watching you like a hawk, he wasn’t blinking as his eyes moved between the two of you and his jaw fell a bit. Nesta was also watching the whole interaction with a confused look. Azriel filled your plate with different kinds of fruit explaining what type of vitamin each one has and why you need to eat it.

“I’m full” you breathed when he tried to shove a piece of apple in your mouth.

“Okay” he replied and ate it with a shrug.

Rhysand looked like he was having a life crisis. “Are you two…?”

Azriel glanced at you with a smile “we’re friends” he said causing you to smile back at him.

“I never expected this” Nesta joined.

You shook your head “that makes two of us”.

“Three” Azriel mumbled.

“Four” Rhys lifted his hand.

“I would say five, but I don’t really know what’s going on” Helion shrugged, and everyone chuckled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After some walking and stretching with Azriel in order to help with digestion and eliminate the possibility of throwing up during the session you walked into Rhysand’s office.

“Let’s do this” Helion smiled, and you took your usual seat on the desk. Azriel brought the belt and Helion stretched his arms.

Everything repeated but the pain was more bearable now, at least that’s what you thought because you didn’t notice how Azriel’s siphons beamed, and how the sweat broke on his forehead. You didn’t notice the way his hands twitched, and how he teared up. You didn’t know that he found a book with wards and spells to take the pain from someone and of course you didn’t know that most of your pain went to his own hands. Helion knew it though because he was the one who did the spell, and this time he didn’t hold back with his healing powers like he had the previous day. So this time the pain was thousand times stronger.

Helion’s eyes focused on Azriel, his expression challenging like he said, “Can you take it” and Azriel gritted his teeth. Of course he could take it, he could take the pain of the whole world in order to help his princess, even though she would never belong to him, even though she would find someone better than him, more deserving than him and she would start a family…. he would be there, lurking in the shadows and taking all the pain away from her. He had realized how much he loves her last night, he realized everything when his heart turned into mist by the sound of her muffled cries when Helion worked on her hands. He spent the night hurting himself for not treating her right, for destroying every chance he had with her and then he searched for the book with spells and woke Helion up to do it. But you would never know that, he would make sure of that. If you knew… you would probably forgive him for the way he treated you and you might even want to be with him and he couldn’t allow that. You deserved someone better, he would keep himself sane after rejecting the bond just to make sure you found said someone and then he knew he would die with a soft smile on his face.

Helion grabbed your other hand and started working on it, making you furrow your eyebrows because he didn’t take a break. You felt even less pain now and you stopped biting the belt. When he stopped Azriel hurried outside without a word.

“What happened?” you asked Helion, and he shrugged.

“We’re done for today” he informed you.

“It didn’t hurt” you noted and glanced at your red hands.

“You’re healing so it’s going to be less painful” Helion replied but avoided your eyes.

You nodded and exited the office with a quick thank you. You reached Azriel’s room and knocked. Silence. Maybe I should leave. You thought but you worried about him so you softly opened the door and scanned the dark room. Azriel was on the bed, he hadn’t changed his clothes, his eyebrows were furrowed in pain as he breathed heavily.

“Az?” you called and moved closer.

He fainted. Claude informed you.

“Why?” you gasped.

I don’t know.

You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the sweat on his forehead. Azriel stirred and you stopped.

“It’s okay” you whispered.

He remained unconscious but he grabbed your hand softly keeping it on top of his heart. You stared at him and tried to pull your hand back but he only squeezed it and pressed it harder on his chest. You couldn’t move, your brain begged you to leave but your body remained frozen in spot. Fuck it. You whispered and lied next to him.

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog, @purpleshoelaces , @act1839, @fasoaurore, @pinksmellslikelove, @bunnyredgirl, @lectoracronica, @tuggboatfishin, @sunnysideup000, @blessthepizzaman, @raisinggray, @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @tsunami-of-tears, @just-a-social-casualty-1, @thelov3lybookworm, @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars, @strangersunghoon , @sosuitcandy , @cat-or-kitten, @ohthemisssery, @starsinyourseyes, @no1massassin, @stained-glass-eyes0708, @vellichor01, @hnyclover, @miraclepirate , @amara-moonlight, @bigcreatorwombatdreamer.

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 12) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 12

Saintess.

You look down at Kazuo’s one-word text, your stomach twisting. You’ve got no idea where he got that name, or what question he was ordered to ask that led him to it. You text back. Is that even a real word?

The question was whether the League of Villains has allies beyond those who were present at Kamino. Kazuo texts back slowly. Too slowly. The typing bubble seems to hover forever. I was unable to give them any more information about the villain known as Saintess.

Kazuo’s careful with his words. If he framed the question that way, then your name would be excluded – even though you pal around with villains, even though you’re the girlfriend of the League’s ringleader, you haven’t committed a crime. The word ‘villain’ wouldn’t apply to you, which means you’re safe. Thank you.

We need to talk in person. Tonight.

Why?

I’ll meet you after work.

Meeting you after work means he’s coming to your workplace, after work. Whatever this is, it’s important. And it’s going to clash with one of your other plans, which is also important – and a lot harder to get out of. You hate yourself as you ask the question. How long will it take?

As long as it needs to. Kazuo doesn’t really get irritated anymore, but you can remember what it used to feel like when you pissed him off. Do you have somewhere to be?

You do, actually. Tenko is supposed to negotiate with Overhaul tonight, and he wants you to be there with him. Overhaul wants you there, too – when you listened in on the phone call, you heard him mention “the one in grey” specifically. What is this about?

The Shie Hassaikai.

Shit. Hold on.

You turn to nudge Tenko awake and find him watching you through half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he sleeps like a log. He barely stirred when your alarm went off. “Who are you talking to?”

“My friend Kazuo.” You brace yourself. “I can’t go with you to meet Overhaul. I have to meet him instead.”

Tenko doesn’t look happy, and he’s still half-asleep. It’s going to get worse. “You have to go with me. He asked for you specifically. If you don’t go, he’ll suspect something.”

“Tell him we can’t tonight,” you say. “Even if we’re supposed to be allies, we shouldn’t jump just because he says so. That looks suspicious, too.”

“Maybe.” Tenko looks like he’s considering it for a second. Then he shakes his head. “Tell your friend you can’t.”

“I can’t do that. I have to meet him.”

Tenko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“He has a quirk called Search Engine. He works for the HPSC gathering intel.” You try to figure out a good way to phrase it, then realize there isn’t one. “He knows about you and me.”

“And he’s a hero?”

“Not exactly.” You wonder if there’s anything else Tenko needs to know. “It’s not relevant, but I dated him in high school.”

“What?” Tenko looks like he’s going to blow a fuse. You’re pretty sure the structural integrity of everything he’s touching is in danger at the moment, regardless of the gloves. “He’s blackmailing you. That’s why you have to go. I’ll kill him.”

“He’s not blackmailing me.” You can’t let Tenko meet Kazuo. You can’t let anything happen to your old friends because of your new ones. “He’s been telling me how to stay clear of his searches. This morning he texted me to let me know that my code name popped up, but nothing else.”

“He’s a hero, but he’s helping you,” Tenko repeats. His expression darkens. “He likes you. That’s why. Do you like him?”

“He’s my friend,” you say, exasperated. “Half the reason I dated him because he reminded me of you.”

Tenko coughs. “What?”

You decide to pretend you didn’t say that. You unlock your phone and show Tenko the conversation in question. “He has information about Overhaul. We need that. Before we meet him?”

“Why would he know you needed information about Overhaul? What does his quirk do?”

“Search Engine – it lets him find the answer to any question he asks,” you say. Tenko looks – well, you’re not sure how to classify that expression. Somewhere between skeptical, pissed, and panicked. Whatever it is, it’s uncomfortable. “The problem is that it’s hard to come up with a query that excludes every answer except the one you’re looking for. And all that information comes in at the same time, so it’s hard to sort through. He –”

You trail off, trying to figure out how to explain. “He went to UA, but they pushed him too hard. His mind broke down and he dropped out, but the HPSC conscripted him to help find you. And since I’m with you, and I’m his friend, he’s helping me avoid getting caught.”

“Which means helping me, too.” Tenko looks really skeptical now. “I don’t buy it. No hero would help you if it meant helping me at the same time.”

“He’s not a hero,” you say. “The heroic system ruined his life.”

That seems to land a little better with Tenko than your previous explanations. He hands your phone back to you. “So he knows something about the Hassaikai that he wants to tell you,” he says. You nod. “And the stuff he’s told you before has been useful.”

You nod again. “Then I’ll tell Overhaul to shove it,” Tenko decides. A smirk crosses his faith at the thought. “We’ll meet him tomorrow instead. He’s not the only ally we’re considering. He can wait his fucking turn.”

You text Kazuo back, confirming the meetup while Tenko reads over your shoulder. At first he’s just looking. Then his chin notches against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist. He’s wearing the gloves he went to bed in, and you let him rustle around for a few moments, getting so close he’s practically glued to your back. That’s going to be a problem in a few minutes. You have to go to work. But at the same time, you aren’t ready to go just yet. Lately you only feel normal when you’re with him.

“That guy,” Tenko says after a minute or so. “Did you really date him because he reminded you of me?”

“I was always going to be friends with him, but he made me think of you, and that’s part of why I dated him.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You don’t like thinking about how much of your life has been marked by losing Tenko. “He was what I imagined you’d be like. If nothing had changed.”

You hadn’t realized that there was something else to it at first. Kazuo was brilliant, and he was funny, and he was kind. Half the girls in your class had a crush on him, but he wound up with you, because you made sure you were there. If there was something he needed, you had it. If he needed a partner for an assignment, you were right there, on top of everything, ready to pitch in and make sure his ideas shone. If he wanted to talk, you dropped everything to listen. You weren’t playing a part; more auditioning for one. The job of Kazuo’s sidekick, in theory. In practice, his girlfriend.

He was your second boyfriend. Your first one was an asshole who cheated on you with Mitsuko, who dropped him when she found out and made you drop him, too. That was how the two of you met, and you’re still amazed that the two of you are friends rather than mortal enemies. Kazuo was different than that, almost perfect, a version of Tenko all grown up, without the scratching and the father who shouted and a heroic quirk. You know he loved you, and you were close even after the two of you broke up, until UA pushed his quirk past its limit. And you loved him, too, in a way that was probably healthier than the way you – feel – for Tenko. Like Kazuo said, all those months ago: He never tried to kill you. And you’d never step in front of a bullet for him.

“What I would have been like,” Tenko repeats. “You must have been disappointed when you saw how I turned out.”

You elbow him lightly. “What part of me chasing you down the street said ‘I’m disappointed’? Don’t be dumb.”

“Don’t fall in love with any more heroes, then.” Tenko lifts your phone out of your hands, drops it somewhere in the blankets on the bed, and pulls you back down with him. “I already locked it down.”

He’s kissing you, one of his hands flirting with the edge of your shirt, slipping beneath it. You touch the screen of your phone and wince when you see what time it is. “I have to go.”

“It won’t take long.” Tenko’s hand slides all the way under your shirt. “I know what you like now. I’ll be fast.”

He’s probably underestimating how much time it takes for you to get fully turned on, but then again, it feels different with him. And it’s not something you want to get into before work. “I bet I can be faster.”

“Huh? You can after I –”

You twist out of Tenko’s arms and push him onto his back. He was already half-hard when he was holding you. By the time you disappear under the blankets, there’s a noticeable tent in his sweatpants. You haven’t asked if he’s okay with this, but when you catch the waistband of his pants, he lifts his hips to let you pull them down. His voice is raspy when he says your name, and before you can ask for his consent more directly, his legs shift apart, making more room for you between them. That strikes you as an invitation. You get settled a little more comfortably, although you’re not expecting to stay here for long, before you lean in to drag your tongue across the tip of his cock.

Tenko’s hips jerk. “Hold still,” you say. “Or I stop.”

“Why do I have to hold still?” Tenko freezes anyway, and you almost laugh. “It’s not fair.”

“I said I was going to be fast. I need your help. You can help by holding still.”

“So you’ll stop if I don’t.”

“Let me think.” While you’re thinking, you lick the tip of his cock again, and this time, Tenko stays still. You reward him with a kiss, and slowly open your mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to speak. “I guess if you don’t hold still, I’ll have to hold you down.”

His hips jerk again. You feel the muscles in his thighs go tense. Is that an idea he likes? You were just being playful, flirty, but suddenly your head is full of the idea of pinning Tenko’s hips to the bed and teasing him until he can’t take it any longer. You don’t get the sense that it would take very long, so you carefully shift your weight, to the tune of a sharp intake of breath from the head of the bed. Suddenly the sheet shifts back, and you glance up to find Tenko propped up on his elbows and staring down at you with glassy eyes. He wants to watch you suck his cock. That’s fine with you.

Unlike the first time you touched him, Tenko keeps his hands to himself. They’re curled into fists at his sides – no, grasping at the sheets – no, grabbing a fistful of his pillow and holding on tight. You keep your attention focused on the tip of his cock, since you’re not confident in your ability to suppress your own gag reflex, and you really don’t want to ruin Tenko’s first blowjob ever. But you’re not going to say it isn’t tempting. Every time you glance upwards, he’s a little more undone.

You’re just considering whether it’s worth a shot when Tenko’s mouth opens and a plea spills out. “I need it. I need you.”

He needs you. You wonder if something so simply can really be the magic words, the thing that takes you from unsure to dead certain, but you’re already taking him further into your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock as you breathe through your nose. Tenko shudders, gasps so sharply that could almost be a whine. You struggle to think of a way to signal your approval and finally settle on running your thumb over the exposed crest of his hip. You had one hand free when you started; now you have two, because you’ve taken his cock so far into your mouth that there’s no room left for your hand.

With Tenko’s hips held down, there’s no risk that he’ll thrust and trigger your gag reflex. You draw back partially, then sink down again, far enough that the tip of your nose brushes the coarse dark hair at his groin. The thought crosses your mind of how disastrous it would be to sneeze right now, and shortly afterward, you discover how difficult it is to laugh with a cock in your mouth. Your throat convulses as you struggle to hold it back, and Tenko moans, so loud and desperate that your face flushes and head floods through you.

You’re not laughing anymore. You draw back and sink down again and again, trying to keep the motion as smooth and effortless as possible, and Tenko’s body seizes beneath you. His back arches, and he stammers out something like a warning. It’s late. You’re not a fan of the way cum tastes – you haven’t met anyone who is except Yoshimi, and you think she’s probably lying about that – but you find that you don’t mind so much when it’s Tenko’s. There are a lot of things you don’t mind so much when it’s him.

You pull away once he begins to go soft, then duck back in to kiss the spot on his hip you were running your thumb over. He doesn’t make any move to pull his sweatpants back up, so you do it for him, and you take the opportunity to look him over. You thought he was just worn out. Now you think he might be passed out. “Are you okay?”

One hand catches you by the front of your pajama shirt and yanks you down for a kiss. You try to hit the brakes – kissing after a blowjob is iffy, and you’re not sure if Tenko knows that – but he won’t let you, and your lips crash together hard. He speaks without letting you pull away. “You just sucked my soul out through my dick. Of course I’m okay.”

“I think those two statements contradict each other.”

“I don’t care.” Tenko’s other hand comes up, landing half on your hip, half on your ass. “My turn now.”

“No.” You pull away and scramble out of bed. “Maybe later. I have to go to work.”

“Maybe later?” Tenko looks affronted, or he would if he wasn’t struggling to keep his eyes open. “What? Do you think I’d be bad at it?”

“I don’t think that. I just have to go to work. And you need to go back to sleep.” You’re pretty sure his soul’s still attached, but you definitely sapped most of his energy. Not enough to stop him from pouting, though. “Definitely later. Is that better?”

“No.” Tenko yawns. “But I’ll take it.”

He lets you go, already half-asleep as you pull your hand free, and you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth, noting an odd spring in your step. You haven’t felt this good waking up in a while. Maybe you should start the day like this more often.

Nobody else is awake when you head out to the living room and kitchen, which isn’t a surprise. Compress has been sleeping a lot, which is good – an injury like his requires extra rest. Twice goes to bed early, like an old man, according to one of his two personalities. Toga stayed up late. So did Spinner, and so did Dabi. Dabi’s the only one who stirs when you start picking through the kitchen for breakfast. “If you’re gonna fuck him before seven am, tape his mouth shut first.”

Half of you cringes at the thought that Tenko was audible from the living room. The other half, though – “Nobody made you listen.”

“Kinky. Maybe we should change your code name, Saintess.”

“If you think that’s kinky, you really need to educate yourself.”

You probably would have thought not caring if someone was eavesdropping was kinky back in the day, but then you met Mitsuko. She and Dabi would probably hate each other. Then again, Mitsuko’s not above a bout of hatefucking. Maybe that would be good for her. Speaking from personal experience, there’s nothing like getting intimate with a villain to exorcise some of your hatred of heroes.

It doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you’re introducing your friends to the League. The fact that Kazuo knows is bad enough. You make tea, pick through the kitchen for something to eat on the walk to work, and put on your shoes. It occurs to you that you should probably say something Dabi, because he’s awake, but you can’t figure out what it should be. “Um, have a good day.”

His response comes back dripping with condescension. “You have a good day too, Saintess.”

You lock the door, struggling to suppress an eyeroll. He’ll probably give Tenko a hard time once Tenko wakes up, but hopefully the blowjob high will insulate Tenko from caring about it too much. That’s not the only thing you’re hoping it’ll insulate Tenko from. At some point today he’s going to remember that you’re meeting up with your hero-adjacent ex-boyfriend after work, and the less time he spends thinking about that, the better.

You’re worried work will drag, but it speeds past, keeping you busy enough that you don’t worry too much about the fact that the League is still holed up in your apartment. Kurogiri’s looking for another potential hideout, but you don’t get the sense that any of them are in a particular hurry to leave. After all, your place is a guaranteed roof over their heads, a source of running water, a source of internet access, and a semi-comfortable place to sleep, more comfortable now that you’ve invested in an air mattress that sleeps two. You wouldn’t want to leave, if you were them.

You’re not sure you want them to, either. When you’re with them, you don’t have to lie to anybody about what you’re doing. When you’re with them, you’re not worried about being found out. When you’re with them, you’re with Tenko, and you – like him. You like him so much that you stepped in front of a bullet for him and gave him head with absolutely zero prompting. You’re not sure which of those is more out of character for you.

Your last patient of the day has a weird injury, weird in that even when you rack your brain, you can’t think what could have possibly caused it. It seems like his hand’s been degloved completely, then flipped inside out, with veins and muscles and layers of fat on the surface and skin enfolding his bones. “This was a quirk,” you say, once you’ve clenched your jaw and concealed the surprise. The patient nods. “What happened?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not our policy to ask questions like that,” you say. The patient shrugs. He’s not the most talkative, which is fine. You get his permission and take some pictures, getting as many views of it as you can, before you render a potential treatment plan. “I’m going to call a doctor to look at this, but based on what I’m seeing, this is a hospital matter. We’ll most likely prescribe you some painkillers for the trip and wrap this up to prevent any more exposure to bacteria. Do you have any questions?”

“Are you sure you can’t fix it here?” The patient’s expression says he doesn’t want anything to do with the hospital, which isn’t a surprise, but you’re fairly sure the doctor will be able to talk him into it. “They fixed whatever’s wrong with your hand, right?”

You glance at your bandaged hand, surprised. You’re still covering the scratches Tenko left, just because the scabs keep cracking. “That’s different. Mine are superficial. Yours is – just sit tight. I’ll grab the doctor and she can explain.”

The doctor on call is on break, and not happy to be interrupted. “Sorry,” you say. “The patient in Exam 3 – his hand’s turned inside out. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but –”

“What do you mean, turned inside out?”

“I mean, the muscles and blood vessels are on the outside,” you say. The doctor’s eyes widen. “He might need emergency surgery to keep the hand, and it’s probably infected already. I can’t talk him into going to the hospital. I’m just a nurse. Maybe if you explain –”

The doctor sets her bento aside and gets to her feet. “Did he say how it happened?”

“It was a quirk,” you say. “I took photos already. I’ll add them to our database while you talk to him.”

“Name, age, quirk.”

“He didn’t give a name. Early thirties. Quirk – I don’t know what it’s called, but his hair looks like arrows.” Sometimes quirks are easy for you to guess. Sometimes not. “He’s a little guarded, but he came here for help. That counts for something, right?”

The doctor nods. “Upload the photos. I’ll go talk to him.”

You added the photos to the clinic’s shared drive already, and you steal the doctor’s chair to upload them to the database that covers all the clinics in the network. Keeping a database of quirk-related injuries helps identify trends, develop treatment protocols, and tailor supply and personnel distribution. If a lot of burn injuries are showing up at a particular clinic, it’s helpful to be able to supply that clinic properly. But you’ve never seen an injury like this before, and when you add the photos to the ‘open wounds’ folder in the database, you realize that no one else has, either. There’s nothing even remotely close. What kind of quirk could do this?

You’re puzzling over it, wondering if it’s worth querying public records over, when you hear a door open and shut down the hallway. At first you think it’s the doctor coming back. Then you hear the exit door at the far end of the hallway open and shut, too, and thirty seconds later, you realize that something’s wrong.

You race down the hall, skidding into Exam 3, and find the doctor sprawled out on the ground, conscious and aware and bleeding from a superficial scrape in her upper arm – but not moving. “What happened?”

She tries to answer you, but she’s speaking with agonizing slowness, almost completely unintelligible even when you try to read her lips. You hurry forward, checking her respiration and heart rate, horrified to find at least thirty seconds passing between each beat of her heart. What is this? How is she still alive? The first answer is clear: A quirk. Your patient’s quirk, which you didn’t ask about, because it’s policy not to ask. The second answer’s in doubt, and although it’s never happened while you’ve been on shift in three and a half years of working at the clinic, you know what protocol mandates when a staff member is attacked.

You press the panic button taped to the underside of the desk – why didn’t the doctor go for it? – triggering a clinic-wide alert and placing an automatic call to the emergency line. Then you turn your attention back to the doctor, the doctor you sent in here alone, checking for pupil movement, for pallor, for anything to tell you whether you need to call a code along with the alert.

Emergency services get there before law enforcement’s even left the station, and because you had contact with the attacker, too, you’re sent along in the ambulance to Yokohama General. You spend the entire way there trying to stay out of the EMTs’ way and trying to apologize to the doctor before letting this happen, until one of the EMTs tells you to can it. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have sent anyone, but you didn’t. Put the blame where it belongs.”

That’s hard to do. Lately you’ve been so used to placing the blame on yourself that it’s turning into your default position, but this time, it really isn’t your fault. You never would have sent the doctor to check on the patient if there’d been any indication that he was dangerous. You didn’t know. That’s all.

At Yokohama General, the doctor’s whisked up to intensive care, while you’re held back in the emergency room. You’re not sure what they’re looking for – you touched the patient while you were unwrapping the bandage he’d tied around the wound, and nothing happened to you – but you hang out in an exam room anyway, with nothing to do but nap behind a curtain and text Kazuo. Might be late. Somebody attacked a doctor at work and I’m at the hospital.

“I know.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. The curtain peels back and reveals Kazuo standing there, wearing a pair of glasses and a suit jacket over his usual white shirt and slacks. The man standing next to him is wearing a suit and a pair of glasses, too – but his suit is grey, and his hair is green with streaks of yellow, and –

Sir Nighteye. You shrink back in horror, and the third member of the trio, a blue-skinned woman with a mask over her face, pipes up in a hurry. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help! Sir is very friendly! He loves to laugh!”

Sir Nighteye glances briefly at you, then looks to Kazuo. “Is this your friend?”

“I would give her space,” Kazuo says. “She was attacked on her way home last year, and was a first responder to the incident at Kamino Ward. Therapy for these traumatic experiences has not progressed as far as those who care for her might have hoped.”

You give Kazuo a dirty look, which he ignores. “I see,” Sir Nighteye says, and takes a notable step back. “I understand you had contact with the individual who attacked your coworker.”

“Yes. I examined him.” You wonder how Nighteye’s quirk works. How long it works for, and if he uses on you, how far ahead in your life he’ll be able to see. “If I had known what he was going to do –”

“That wouldn’t have been possible,” Nighteye interrupts. Maybe it’s eye contact. You bow your head. “Describe the injury to me.”

“Um –” The word that comes to mind is ‘horrific’, but after what you’ve seen over the last few months, your bar for horrific is pretty high. “It looked like his hand had been turned inside out. Skin on the inside, veins on the outside.”

“I see. Did it appear to be clean?”

“What?”

“The separation of the skin on his hand from his wrist,” Sir Nighteye says, impatient. “Was it jagged or clean?”

“Oh.” You think of the photos you took. “Jagged.”

“But the skin was otherwise intact?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Nighteye says again. What does he see? You need to know. You need to know if you can go home tonight, or if you have to stay as far away from Tenko and the others as possible to keep them safe. “You’ve been working there for three and a half years. Have you seen an injury of that type before?”

“No,” you say. “Not in our database, either. He said it was caused by a quirk, but our protocols don’t allow us to ask more than that.”

“Kiyohara.” Nighteye doesn’t say more than Kazuo’s family name, but it’s clear what he wants. “Now.”

Kazuo’s hesitating, and you know why. “That question is too broad,” you say to Nighteye. Nighteye pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, eyebrows raised. “It has to be more specific, or the information influx will risk overloading his brain. Since you don’t care about his health, maybe you’ll care about the fact that he won’t be useful at all after a grand mal seizure.”

You haven’t blown up on a hero, ever. Suddenly you get why Mitsuko’s been doing it. It feels good, and Nighteye, unlike the sidekicks, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Is that so?” he asks Kazuo. Kazuo nods. “We’ll secure as much information as possible before you make the query. As of now, you’re off-duty. And you’re free to go.”

That last is to you, but a warning look from Kazuo keeps you seated on the bed until Nighteye and his sidekick are gone. You open your mouth and he holds up his hand. It pisses you off. “Don’t shush me. What was that about?”

“Not here. Outside.”

You grit your teeth and follow Kazuo out through the emergency room and onto the street. It’s dark, and with autumn well on its way, the wind whipping between the buildings is cold. You follow Kazuo for two blocks, then into a park, before he stops walking and turns to face you. “You shouldn’t have spoken up. I told you – you can’t save both of us.”

“So I was supposed to just sit there while he made you overload your quirk?” You’re already out of patience. “No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“The Nighteye agency is investigating the Shie Hassaikai,” Kazuo says. Your jaw drops. “They’ve enlisted the help of dozens of unaffiliated heroes. It’s the largest operation any hero has conducted since Kamino, and it will be far better planned than Kamino was. Sir Nighteye won’t act until he’s certain of victory.”

“Why are they investigating the Hassaikai?” you choke out. “Is it because of –”

“Your friend’s involvement is tangential. They aren’t after him this time.” Kazuo’s hand rises to his temple, and you catch it, pull it back down. You spend a lot of time dragging your friends’ hands away before they can hurt themselves. “Nighteye has been pursuing the Hassaikai since before Kamino. Their investigation is related to the distribution of Trigger. You’re familiar?”

You nod. A solid thirty percent of your patients who show up in costume are showing up after experiencing the adverse effects of Trigger. The compound boosts quirk activation at the cost of everything else, and it’s one of those things you’ll never understand about people with quirks – that constant desire for more of it, more power, more everything. “The Hassaikai’s involved with that?”

“They’re distributing an inferior version of it,” Kazuo says. Tenko didn’t know that. You know he didn’t, because he would have told you. How much else doesn’t he know? “And lately they’ve been distributing something else as well. Bullets that erase quirks.”

“I know,” you say. Kazuo looks surprised. “It’s temporary, but they work.”

Compress’s quirk came back within twenty-four hours, but you know it’ll be a long time before anyone in the League forgets what happened in that warehouse. The bruise on your shoulder is fading, but the creepy red lines haven’t. “Nighteye believes that Chisaki is pursuing a more permanent version of the quirk-erasing bullets, and doing so through less than ethical means,” Kazuo says. “Every use of my quirk in the last six weeks has been related to this investigation. Your new name came up in my queries because you crossed paths with Chisaki once. If you, personally, aid him in any way, you’ll become one of the investigation’s targets. So will your friend.”

Chisaki must be Overhaul’s family name. You wonder if he’s got a family. “I don’t think we’re planning to help him,” you say, and see Kazuo’s eyebrows lift. “He killed one of us and maimed another one. That’s not forgivable.”

“Indeed.” Kazuo sits down on a bench, and so do you. It’s quiet for a little while. “So. Saintess.”

“I didn’t pick it.”

“I know,” Kazuo says. Of course he does. “I’d have advised you to choose a name soon regardless. As this escalates, you’ll need to shield your true identity.”

“So I won’t go to jail,” you clarify.

“So you won’t be killed,” Kazuo says. You stare at him. “I’m aware of the – position – you hold in your friend’s organization. If his enemies believe they can use you against him, they will do it, and since targeting you when you’re with him will be difficult, they’ll do it when you’re alone, as a civilian. My query indicated that you haven’t been found out, but today was a very near miss.”

That should make sense to you. You force yourself to think. Why would the Nighteye agency care about an attack in a free clinic on the rough side of Yokohama? They wouldn’t, unless – “Was that guy one of the Hassaikai?”

“Sir Nighteye suspects he is. He won’t know for sure until I search,” Kazuo says. His phone buzzes. He checks it and sighs. “My parameters are in. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Kazuo –” You don’t know what to say, and he’s already getting to his feet. “Why are you helping me so much? You could get in trouble.”

“I don’t care about that,” Kazuo says. He barely cares about anything anymore. Seeing the apathy overtake him for the past three years has been agonizing. “The world your friend wishes to create, a world without heroes, is a world where this would not have happened to me. It’s too late for me, but there are others who could be spared.”

You look at him, feeling your throat tighten and your eyes burn. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you,” Kazuo says, for the third time today, over his shoulder as he starts the walk back to Yokohama General, “you can’t save us both.”

You’ve always thought he meant himself and Tenko when he said that. Now you wonder if he means himself and you. You wonder what saving either of you would mean. And you wonder if it’s too late for you already.

Your phone buzzes, and you look at it. It’s the new group chat, the one you made because you couldn’t face the thought of never seeing Sho or Hirono’s phone numbers pop up again. Mitsuko’s texting you. And Ryuhei. Quit being a stranger. Come hang with us.

Tenko and the others are already expecting you to be out tonight, and you never said how long you’d be gone. Where are you?

Look up.

You look up, and sure enough, your friends are strolling towards you. “Kazuo dropped a pin,” Ryuhei calls once he’s in earshot. “We never see you anymore.”

It’s been a while since you saw Ryuhei, but Mitsuko? “We saw each other five days ago, Mitsu.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly fun. And you had to run off to your stupid job.” Mitsuko rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go out. I swear I won’t get wasted and spit on any more sidekicks.”

“And no peeing on the All Might statue.”

“Fine.” Mitsuko heaves a dramatic sigh, while Ryuhei cracks up. “Drinks first.”

“Drinks,” Ryuhei agrees. “I found a maid bar, and they’ll treat me like a creep if I go in there alone.”

You’re pretty sure the three of you together look weirder strolling into a maid bar than Ryuhei would have by himself, but nobody who works there comments on it, and they’re nicer to you than you expected them to be. One of them knows you – she’s one of the people who uses the clinic as a primary care provider, so you’ve seen her a few times a year for the past three years. She cracks a joke about how Ryuhei would look better in a maid costume than she would, which leads directly into Mitsuko bullying him into trying on the headpiece of one of the costumes. You take a picture before you can stop yourself and drop it in the group chat. Kazuo’s busy, but now there’s a record, and you’re pretty sure it’ll make Yoshimi laugh.

You’ve been most comfortable with Tenko and the League lately, but it’s nice to have a night out with your friends, too – one that’s not complicated by your involvement with your childhood best friend turned boyfriend, who probably fits the criteria of a domestic terrorist and who’s been living in your apartment on and off for the past six weeks with his gang of domestic terrorist friends. Mitsuko and Ryuhei are the most irreverent of your group, and they live the closest to the edge. Ryuhei has a record that isn’t his fault – his quirk is entirely unconscious, and when a sidekick launched a quirk-based attack at him while he was running away from a building he’d graffitied, he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting it back. Mitsuko doesn’t have a record, but the cops in Yokohama know her too well to ever give her the benefit of the doubt again. They might have the privilege of having quirks, but you’ve always been able to complain with them in a way that you haven’t with the others.

After the maid café, you find yourselves at karaoke. You collectively suck at karaoke. Ryuhei’s got the best voice, but his enunciation is the first thing to go when he’s drunk, and you can’t listen to him slurring his way through a song without laughing. Mitsuko is tone-deaf, but makes up for it with enthusiastic dance moves, and there’s absolutely nothing about your performances that stands out. You’re such a nonevent at karaoke that Sho used to fall asleep when it was your turn to sing.

It should be fun. It used to be fun. But you’ve lost two friends now. One of your friends is sick, while another’s being forced into work that could snap his mind in two. Mitsuko isn’t okay; you’re not okay. Ryuhei isn’t, either, and when the three of you are alone and you run out of things to talk about, there’s no point in pretending otherwise.

“Everything sucks now,” Ryuhei says in a break between songs. “Not just since they died. For a while.”

“It sucked the whole time. We just didn’t admit it.” Mitsuko is facedown in one of the pillows on the couch. Her voice is muffled. “It was always bullshit. When they were here, it was easier not to think about it.”

“I miss them,” you say. Your voice wavers, but only once. “I wish they were here.”

“Yeah. They should be here, and those heroes shouldn’t.” Ryuhei’s words are slurred, but he’s getting his point across just fine. “If they’re so great, how come nine hundred people died on their watch?”

They sound like Tenko. He’d be happy to hear this, and like you’ve summoned him just by thinking of him, your phone pings with a text from the burner phone Tenko’s been using to call people – Kurogiri, Overhaul, and you. When are you coming back?

I’ll be back tonight.

When?

Can’t he just trust you? You’re about to text back that you’ll be home when you’re done when Mitsuko scoops the phone out of your hands. “Your new boyfriend’s kind of clingy, huh?”

“No,” you say. Part of you gets a stupid little thrill out of admitting that Tenko’s your boyfriend. “Not clingy. He knows I was meeting Kazuo tonight.”

Mitsuko makes an error sound. “Bad move. Telling the new boy about the former boy makes the new boy insecure.”

“No –”

“Especially if the first guy is Kazuo,” Ryuhei says. “Fucking hell. If I was dating his ex and she went out to meet him – and she didn’t tell me when she was coming back – I’d probably shit a brick.”

“Thanks. I really could have done without that picture in my head.” Even as you return fire, you’re wondering if they’ve got a point. If it’s not just that Kazuo’s working for the heroes. If any part of it is that Tenko’s jealous of the guy you dated before him. “What should I do?”

Mitsuko’s still holding your phone, and to your horror, she sends a text. This is Mitsu. Your girlfriend’s not banging her ex, she’s hanging with us. Chill out.

Tenko texts back immediately. Two words. Prove it.

“He wants proof,” Mitsuko announces. “Selfie time! Look cute.”

You can’t manage looking cute. You’re too stressed to look cute, and too distracted by the stupid faces your friends are making. Mitsuko snaps a photo and sends it off, followed by a text. Your turn.

For what?

To prove you’re not banging your ex right now.

You cringe. “He doesn’t have any exes.”

“Aww, you’re his first? No wonder he’s acting like such a freak.” Mitsuko snickers. “It’s fine, anyway. We already know what he looks like.”

Something about that strikes you as odd, but before you can ask, Ryuhei pulls a phone out of his pocket. Not his. This one has a cracked screen and a case with an Endeavor pinup card taped to the back, and all at once there’s a lump in your throat. “Is that Hiro’s?”

“Yeah. They released her personal effects, fucking finally. I was her emergency contact, so I got them.” Mitsuko takes the phone from Ryuhei, your phone forgotten even as it pings again. “You know she was conscious under there?”

Your stomach clenches. “No.”

“Like the whole time. When I unlocked it, there were a whole bunch of undelivered messages, to all of us. I guess the wreckage blocked the signal.” Mitsuko’s voice is flat. Her eyes are filling with tears. “She recorded a message for us. Here.”

You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to see. Not when you had something to do with the disaster that killed her, not when it’s partially your fault. The screen is black, but you can hear Hirono’s voice, rough and choked with dust and tears as she tells all of you that she loves you, that she hated waking up most mornings except that you all made her stupid life worth living. No jokes about Endeavor. No picking on you for being boring or Mitsuru for being a simp for his latest girlfriend or Mitsuko for whatever item of clothing she bought that Hirono hates. Just Hiro saying she loves you. And Hiro saying goodbye.

You’re crying by the end of it, messy, stupid tears. Ryuhei’s teared up, too, but unlike you, he’s still able to talk. “That was the last audio clip,” he says. “There were a bunch of others. While she was trying to grab the phone, I guess. The first one was really interesting.”

He presses play on it, and you know instantly what it’s recording: The fight between All Might and All For One, audio that the news helicopters couldn’t have picked up, audio that would have been suppressed if anyone had gotten ahold of it. All For One is taunting All Might over his failures, mocking him for his ideals, the same words you can imagine Tenko using but with thousands of times more glee. And then you hear it, All For One’s voice chilling your blood even through a recording: “There is one thing you might be interested to know. Shigaraki Tomura, my apprentice? He was once known as Shimura Tenko – your beloved master’s grandson!”

You freeze in place. “That name sounded kind of familiar,” Ryuhei says, after he’s hit pause. “We couldn’t figure out why at first. Yoshimi was the one who got it. Shimura Tenko was your friend. The one who went missing.”

“We all told you he was dead, but you were right and we were wrong.” Mitsuko sprawls out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “We figured there couldn’t be two, so we checked with Kazuo, and then we asked if we should tell you. If it wouldn’t be too hard on you with everything else going on. You know what he said?”

You can guess. “He said, What makes you think she doesn’t know?” Ryuhei mimics Kazuo’s frozen voice. “And then it all made sense. Why you’ve been acting so weird. Why you haven’t been around. Where you got that weird scar on your wrist –”

“And that bite mark on your neck,” Mitsuko adds, and your hand flies up to cover it even though it’s long gone. She waves your phone at you, the screen lit up with texts from Tenko. “I’m texting Shigaraki Tomura right now, aren’t I?”

You could lie. You need to lie. But even as you’re stammering through the first sentence of your denial, you know it’s too late. Your friends know. Kazuo as good as told them. And in some weird way, you’re relieved. You don’t have to lie any more. You can let it go. So you stop talking, except for one sentence. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Are you kidding me? We don’t want to rat you out,” Ryuhei says. “We want in.”

You stare at him. “We want to meet him first,” Mitsuko says. “Since you’ve been hung up on him since you were a toddler and your judgment with guys isn’t usually garbage –”

“But we want in,” Ryuhei interrupts. “Like we said. It’s been bullshit for a long time. At least your psycho boyfriend is doing something about it.”

“So?” Mitsuko looks at you expectantly. “When do we meet him?”

Your phone pings again, and again – and then it starts ringing. Mitsuko holds it out to you, and you answer the call. “My friends want to meet you.”

“I’m not jealous,” Tenko says. Someone guffaws in the background. “I’m not. I thought someone had – when are you getting back? It’s –”

“My friends want to meet you,” you say again. “Do you want to meet them?”

“They want to meet me,” Tomura repeats. He sounds just as confused as you feel. “Like, me, or –?”

“They know. I didn’t tell them, they guessed.”

“We want in,” Ryuhei says loudly, and you jump. “Do we have to audition or something? I’ve got a record.”

“I’d have one if I hadn’t blown my arresting officer,” Mitsuko adds from your other side, and someone on the other end of the line – probably Spinner – breaks out in a coughing fit. “So?”

Tomura’s quiet for a second. “In a few days,” he says. Ryuhei digs an excited elbow into your side. “Tell them they’d better know exactly what “in” means for them.”

“I’ll tell them,” you say. He’s stressed. You can tell. This is your fault. “Sorry.”

“Don’t. When are you coming back?”

“Soon,” you say. “I promise. I –”

Whatever you were going to say gets drowned out by Mitsuko making incredibly loud kissing sounds right next to the microphone. You hang up and shove her away, hard. Not that it bothers her. She’s cackling to herself. “He said yes?”

“In a few days. And you’d better know exactly what you mean when you say you’re in.”

“Nice!” Ryuhei gives you what’s probably a friendly punch in the arm, and you recoil with a hiss. He hit just above the impact point of Overhaul’s bullet. “Oh, sorry.”

Mitsuko has a weird look on her face now. You decide not to overreact to it. She might just be drunk. When Ryuhei hops up to go rent your karaoke booth for another hour, she turns to you. “Does he hurt you?”

“Who, Ryuhei?”

“No. Your boyfriend.” Mitsuko’s expression is serious, maybe more serious than you’ve ever seen it. “That thing on your wrist. I remember when your voice was fucked up, too. There’s more, right? Something’s up with your shoulder. Did he do that?”

You shake your head. You didn’t step in front of the bullet on Tenko’s orders. He was mad at you for doing it. “But he’s hurt you before,” Mitsuko says. You open your mouth and she talks right over you. “You’re going to say he didn’t mean to, right?”

But he didn’t. The first time, he didn’t remember you until it was almost too late. When he bit you, he didn’t realize how hard he was doing it, just like he didn’t realize he’d activated his quirk the first time you touched him. When his nails tore up the back of your hand, it was because you put your hand there. “He didn’t mean to,” you say. Mitsuko makes a derisive sound. “Don’t. I know him and you don’t. He didn’t mean to.”

“Just because he’s sorry doesn’t mean he didn’t mean it,” Mitsuko says. “I know guys like him. I know them better than you do.”

Guys like him. Magne said something like that, too. You didn’t try to talk her out of it, and you don’t try to talk Mitsuko out of it, either – just like you’ve given up trying to talk Tenko out of the lies his master told him for now. “You’ll meet him soon. You can make up your own mind.”

Ryuhei comes back, and you and Mitsuko shut up in unison. “We got another hour, but then they’re kicking us out,” he reports. “We got another few songs. Who wants to sing?”

You don’t to. Mitsuko does, though, and after two songs from her, Ryuhei commandeers the mic and forces you to sing. Like always, you’re boring enough to send at least one of your friends to sleep, and with Mitsuko passed out on the couch, you hand the mic back to Ryuhei. He’s in a good mood, at least partially because he’s drunk, but you’re most of the way to sober, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve screwed up. You wanted to keep your friends out of this, and they’re in. You’re this close to getting Kazuo in trouble, too. And you’ve let Tenko down. Again.

You text him, wondering if he’s still awake, hoping he isn’t. I’m sorry.

Don’t. We still need allies, and if you trust them, I can trust them, too. Tenko’s response comes back fast, and the weight of his trust knocks the air out of you. When are you coming home?

We’re leaving soon. I should be home in an hour or so.

Good. Tenko’s immediate response gives you that weird hit of normalcy again. It’s a normal conversation, the kind you’d be having if you’d grown up together and gotten together and moved in together, if nothing had gone wrong. I miss you.

I miss you too.

“Hey,” Ryuhei says, and you look up. “I’m putting on the performance of a lifetime here. You two aren’t even watching?”

“Sorry,” you say. Mitsuko sits up, then lies back down with her head in your lap. “Go for it.”

Ryuhei gets back to it, aiming slightly sulky looks your way, and you settle in. You keep your eyes on him, but your mind’s left the building. It’s already on the train, halfway back to your apartment, all the way back to your apartment, through the front door and home to your best friend.

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

3 - Friendship Forged

After the battle, Red, Yellow, Blue, and Green make friends with Purple, in spite of Purple's own doubts getting the better of him.

One of the villagers insisted that Red stay for a check up.

“If what you describe to me is true,” they told Purple, “then there may be possible side effects of her possession. I’d like to make sure she’s fit to go home.”

“Fine then,” Purple said, but struggled to hide his grumbling, “but don’t blame me if these ‘guests’ don’t wish to stay.”

“Oh, please, when they see the welcome feast we’re preparing, they’ll want to stay!” The villager said, nodding.

“Feast?” Purple echoed, “hold on, what’s this about a feast?”

“To celebrate your victory over Herobrine and the Wither!”

As the villager predicted, the stick figures were more willing to stay with the prospect of a large meal. It took some convincing to let the Villagers take Red away for a check up.

“Relax, my villagers mean you no harm,” Purple said.

“I know,” Blue said. She lingered by the window, leaning to look inside the hut. “I just hope they don’t discover something else wrong.”

“Hovering won’t help,” Yellow said, patting Blue’s shoulder. They glanced at Purple. “Say, uh, Purple was it? Do you mind if we help with the cooking?”

“Knock yourselves out,” Purple said, waving dismissively.

Yellow smiled and bowed. “Thanks! Come on, Blue!” Yellow held Blue by the shoulders and ushered her away from the window.

Only Green remained, fiddling with the Minecraft icon.

“Don’t you want to join them?” Purple asked.

“In a bit. I’m just thinking how we’re going to get home given that portal is knocked out,” Green said. He looked around in case the villagers listened in. “You know that creature is still out there?”

“You mean the Wither? I’m well aware of that,” Purple huffed, “give it some time, it probably will float off in the Nether elsewhere. It’s a large place.”

Green shot Purple a skeptical look. Purple kept his face as neutral as possible to appear firm. 

“Plus, if that way is blocked for you,” Purple said, “then I can show you how to use that block to make a portal home.”

Green regarded the icon in his hands nervously, eyes flicking to the window.

“And I’m certain that the spirit that possessed her has been purged from it,” Purple said, “just hold onto the icon for her if you’re still worried about it.”

Green’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he smiled at Purple.

“Thank you, for everything,” Green said.

“Don’t mention it,” Purple said, head lifting as he basked in the gratitude of a fellow stick figure around his age. He forgot how nice that feeling was.

“So!” Green put the Minecraft icon away. “How did you make this place? Or did the Minecraft people make these?”

“You mean the villagers?” Purple asked, finding himself smirking. “This was a joint effort between me and them, though my castle was…”

And, like that, he found himself just chatting nonstop as he led Green through a tour of the village. Talking was rather easy, much to Purple’s surprise. He felt like a wise sage, imparting knowledge to a curious and willing pupil. Green wasn’t the only one with questions; they ran into Blue and Yellow while cooking, and they too decided to follow Purple around with their own set of questions.

Purple quickly learned that these three had developed preferences in the single day they had played Minecraft. Green had a keen eye for design and building, offering way too many suggestions to improve Purple’s buildings. Blue favored farming and cooking and really wished to learn about potions, while Yellow took to redstone and suggested helpful contraptions for the village. They were earnest, sheltered, and nothing like the jaded teens at school.

I wonder if these dorks could even survive high school, Purple thought in amusement.

It did leave the question about what Red would be interested in, had she not been possessed. And with thoughts returned to their friend, the three became anxious.

“I’m sure they’re done by now,” Purple said, leading them back toward the direction of the hut.

As they retraced their steps, they spotted Red in the middle of a crude animal pen, petting the cows and the pigs.

“Aw, these ones are so cute,” she cooed. She looked toward an empty space, grinning as if she was looking at someone. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Um, who is she talking to?” Yellow asked, scratching his head.

“Spirits,” the villager beside the gate said, “or what she believes to be spirits.”

“Excuse me? She’s hallucinating?” Green balked so loudly that it startled Red.

“Hallucinating?” She repeated, looking worryingly from her friends to the empty air.

“Oh, don’t fret about it. Side effects are to be expected after a possession from Herobrine, and luckily this one is minor,” the villager said. They went up to Red with a metal bucket. They milked a cow and gave the bucket to Red. “Take a regiment of 3 buckets of milk daily for a week, and the symptoms should fade.”

Red looked down at the bucket, frowning.

“And if seeing spirits still persists after that, come see me again,” the villager added, patting her back. “And no skipping a dosage, got it?”

“We’ll hold her to it,” Blue said.

The group left Purple’s side to crowd around Red, chittering and asking of her health. Purple gave them some distance, but couldn’t help but listen in.

Spirits, huh, Purple thought, I didn’t see any online guides mentioning that. I heard of Herobrine, but he wasn’t in the game, not really. Did Alana mod the game?

His chest tightened at the thought. If something could be added to the game that could make people see “ghosts”, then why couldn’t someone add a way to stop aging?

Purple’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a caldron being hit.

“Soup’s on!” A villager shouted, “Eat up!” 

“Oh boy, I’m starving!” Red said. She gave the cow one last head pat before vaulting over the fence. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“Not fair! You're cheating!” Green exclaimed and, with a burst of energy, he, Yellow, and Blue came running after her in an impromptu race.

She got her good cheer back quickly, Purple thought, blinking as he walked up the stairs after them. A dining table was constructed in the center during the cooking, filled with all the Minecraft dishes available. Of course the villagers made nice color-coded seats for their guests of honor, with a throne at the end for Purple. 

Purple, trying to shake the creeping funk that threatened to ruin the mood, strutted to his spot and sat down with Green and Blue at his right and Red and Yellow at his left. Villagers took their own seats further down, passing bowls around.

“Wow, these are so good!” Red exclaimed as she took a bite of bread.

“Yeah, you were missing out from the tour earlier,” Blue said, “Purple’s got a nice place!”

“Lord Purple,” a villager shouted, “could you and your guests tell us all about your battle today?”

Purple took a sip of water and nodded. “Well, I was going into the Nether to collect some… resources, when I heard a sound…”

From there, the group partook in stories, questions, and then just silly jokes and anecdotes. Purple quickly learned that Red was the clown of the group, quick to make a pun and run her mouth. She had a soft spot for the animals too, avoiding most of the meats aside from fish upon reading its descriptions. 

The conversation was lively and Purple found himself chuckling at some of their antics.

“You gotta teach me potion making!” Blue said as Purple corked open another water bottle.

“Maybe next time,” Purple promised. He raised his glass. “A toast then?”

The others raised their glasses.

“To a new friendship!”

The four beamed back at him.

“‘To a new friendship!’” They shouted in unison, clinking their glasses together.

This was nice. Pleasant. For the first time in a long while, Purple felt truly joyful.

I could lead them on adventures and teach them all the tricks I’ve learned, he thought. Their curiosity and joy of the game, despite the harrowing ordeal, was infectious, and Purple wanted to recapture that feeling again. Just like when he and mom were building the castle and —

“Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

Chestnut’s words came to mind without warning. Like a thunderstrike, his good mood vanished in a puff of smoke so painful and sudden that it startled him. He froze, the scene before him slowing to a crawl and forcing him to observe it with fresh eyes. Delicious food turned to ash in his mouth and looked just as appetizing. The festive crowd turned from bubbly to oppressive and noisy.

The stick figures smiled and laughed with each other as they toasted, but Purple now found their laughter annoying and smiles too wide. When Green looked at Purple and saw the visible change of mood, his smile faded. 

“You alright?”

No, Purple scowled at Green’s concern. 

Out loud he said. “I’m tired,” he said, “I need to retire for the night.”

He left the table, pushing past the villagers coming by with more food.

“Lord Purple?”

“Purple, wait!” Green called out.

“I’m not in the mood. I’m tired,” Purple hissed. And it was true. It was like he was drained of battery. His limbs were stiff, and inventory items weighed him down with every step. 

How could he partake in joy like this? How could he deserve to have good meals when his mother will never eat with him ever again? How could he be proud of his accomplishments when was too weak to fight Red’s possession the “proper” way? How could he bother to make friends with them when all his friendships crumble to dust in the end?

“But, we need to go home, remember?” Green pointed out.

“Unless you want them to stay the night?” a villager added, unhelpfully.

Right, Purple did not want them to stay. He marched back and stuck his hand out to Green for the Minecraft icon. He climbed to a distant spot from his castle and made the portal frame, lit it, and tossed the icon back to Green.

“When you enter, you need to make another portal in this formation,” Purple said, “when you do, light the frame just like I showed you, and it will take you to where you need to go. Now, if you don’t mind.”

He marched past Green and Red, ignoring how the group stared at him as he retreated to his throne room.

Just get away. Get away.

When he collapsed on his bed, he instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.

=

“Lord Purple?”

Purple groaned and waved the villager away.

“Let your lord sleep,” he grumbled, turning away.

“My lord, you’ve been holed up in your castle for a month,” the villager said, “and we haven’t seen much of you. You’ve not fallen ill, have you?” 

“‘m not sick,” Purple said, “I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been tired for a very long time.”

Purple buried his head in the pillow, feeling terrible. It wasn’t like the villagers were wrong; this was the worst fugue he experienced since his mother’s burial. The sour end to the feast with those stick figures ended up coinciding with his birthday week. The realization that he was another year older, with only himself and a bunch of video game NPCs to celebrate it, left him with no energy to leave his bed. His mother wouldn’t be there to see him, to share gifts and spend time with him. He had no friends his age to invite, and thinking of those stick figures he met only hammered in how absolutely alone he was. 

As such, he spent his birthday laying in bed, crying. He knew he was breaking his promise to his mother to take care of himself, but how could he keep going knowing he had a future of more lonely birthdays and solitary holidays?

What's the point of trying anymore, Purple thought, if I am always going to feel this way?

“You also have visitors here,” the villager cut through his ruminating thoughts, “They want to see you.”

That got Purple to pull himself up from his bed. It was most slow and painful, as his fatigued body struggled to prop himself up. He shot a confused look at the villager.

“Who’d be visiting me at this hour?”

The villager quirked an eyebrow in return. “Your friends from the Wither battle.”

“Wait, they came to visit?” Purple asked, eyes widening further as he straightened up. 

As if on queue, the door to his chambers knocked wildly.

“Hey, Purple, it’s us!”

Purple let out a groan, recognizing Green’s chipper voice. 

Why are they back? He thought, covering his eyes, it’s been a month! I thought they'd forgotten about me…

“Can you send them away?” Purple groaned.

“I will try,” the villager sounded unsure. Purple heard them walk back, opening the door, only for the door to be slammed open as the gang burst through the door.

“The hell?” Purple jumped to his feet, shocked to find his poor villager flattened by the doorframe and four eager stick figures crowding before him.

“Rise and shine!” Red greeted, waving.

“What are you all doing here?” Purple snapped. He didn’t care for decorum at the moment, all he felt was irritation at the sight of their chipper faces.

They at least looked sheepish about their intrusion.

“Well, we wanted to follow up on you,” Yellow pointed out. “Sorry we took so long! We tried earlier, but your villagers said you were too sick for visitors.”

“We sent them a soup recipe for you!” Red said “Did you like it?”

Purple nodded even though he didn’t know what either of them was talking about. The month cooped up in the castle was a blur, and he had no memory of them visiting or eating any soup. Or much of anything, come to think of it.

“Plus, you said you’ll teach us how to brew potions,” Blue said, continuing on, “remember?”

“Yes, but,” Purple started, “it’s been awhile…?”

“I know. We would have visited a little more,” Green said, “but now we’re here. And you’re…” he paused as he actually took a good look at Purple and his room. “…feeling better, I hope?”

Purple shrugged. “Sort of,” he grumbled, “but I can’t teach you today.”

“Are you still under the weather?” Red asked, having the gall to sound so down. All four visibly deflated, their eagerness fading into sadness and concern. 

The sight of it made Purple both rankle from and clamor for their attention. A dual desire for their concern twisted and tumbled with the urge to be left alone to continue sleeping. He really didn’t know which he should follow.

“I’m not sick anymore, really. It’s more so that I’m… out of supplies,” he lied, “I didn’t get any time to stock up. Given that I was in bed for a good while.”

To that, they perked up. Green grinned widely at Purple. “We could get you some!”

Wow, Green just offered a nice way to get them off his back, but he did still need to play it up. 

Purple turned away, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to do that, it’s such a long list,” he exaggerated.

“No problem!” Yellow said, “I bet you could give us 100 items and we’d get it all to you in under ten minutes.”

“Is that so?” Purple remembered their conversations and his observations. These four were rather competitive; they loved to boast and heckle. Oh, this would be very easy.

“Very well, I bet I can add a little incentive,” he said, pulling out his list of potion ingredients from a chest nearby his bed. “This is what I need. The first one to come back here with all the items on this list will be the lucky one I tutor in the secret art of potion brewing.”

There it was, the manic look in each and everyone of them. These were sticks determined to win.

“Got it memorized?”

The group nodded in unison.

“Then chop chop, timer’s ticking,” Purple said, clapping.

At that they proceeded to scramble out the door with shocking violence. Yellow and Green were elbowing each other out the door, while Blue sharply shoved Red into the villager just as they pried themselves free of the door.

“Sorry!” Red bowed before tearing off, “I’ll get you for this Blue!”

There, Purple thought, dusting his hands and laying back on his pillow, gets them out of my hair for a bit.

“Here’s everything!”

Blue dumped a bunch of potion ingredients. Given that Purple’s inventory was full, the items piled on him, floating, but the sound of her entrance shocked him out of his doze.

“Uh? Huh?” Purple blinked, looking around for the others. “How did you-?”

“I may have pulled some tricks on my opponents,” Blue said, rubbing her arm bashfully. “Honorably, of course!”

“Honorable trickery?” Purple said, eying each item. “That’s an oxymoron.”

“Look, if I happened to dare Red to tame a wild horse or ask Yellow what he would make with glowstone dust,” Blue said, “it’s not my fault they got distracted and wasted their time elsewhere.”

The sour mood eased as he smirked at Blue for her cunning. How unexpectedly sly! Maybe he was too quick to brush them off earlier.

“And what of Green?”

To that Blue paused, looking rather embarrassed. “I told him he forgot to grab ender pearls for the ingredient list,” she said.

“Lying?” Purple let out an exaggerated gasp of horror. “Color me shocked, I didn’t think that would qualify as an ‘honorable trick.’”

“Yeah, but-”

“I knew you were full of it!” Green snapped, appearing suddenly. He marched up, pointing a finger at Blue while looking heavily bruised, no doubt from his scraps with angry Endermen.

“What? I thought it was true!” Blue whistled.

“Bullcrap!” Green tossed his stuff down. “Purple, you can’t let this cheat get the win!”

“I dunno,” Purple said, “I didn’t give any rules on how you were to get it, just to get it.”

Green gave the most amusing irritated reaction. Purple needed to stifle the laughter bubbling in his throat. 

But then, Green’s shock turned to scrutiny, then into a smug smile.

“Well, she can’t win anyways,” Green said, pointing at the pile, “there’s no nethwart!”

“What?” Blue sifted through the pile and sure enough, no netherwart. “But I collected it- oh no!”

She gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

“What?” Purple asked.

Of all the things Blue said next, Purple wasn’t prepared for it.

“I ate it all!”

“You what?” Green shouted.

But Purple couldn’t speak, for he fell off his bed and onto the floor cackling.

=

Purple didn’t know how these four stick figures wormed their way into his life, but they managed to carve a space, bit by bit.

At first it was only a once a month visit. Sometimes, they bumped into each other while out in the Minecraft world; other times, they showed up randomly on Purple’s desktop. Then it became every two weeks. Then once a week.

Alana quickly caught wind of new stick figures visiting her desktop unannounced, and she was annoyed with Purple. She instated a rule that visits were to be strictly over the weekends and that they were not to touch her files. The gang were amenable to this and ended up visiting Saturday or Sunday to meet up, trade with the villagers, and play with Purple on the desktop.

One day, Purple was invited to visit the color gang’s computer. It was initially to judge some impromptu build completion, but ever since, Purple ended up visiting their desktop every Wednesday to hang out or play games. Windows was a different experience than Purple’s Mac. For one, their Animator, aka Alan Becker, was more present on the computer than Alana was, but he was fine with Purple visiting whenever he felt like. Sometimes he joined in their play, other times he just kept to himself and didn’t bother them much.

It took a long time for Purple to admit this to himself, but he was glad that he became friends with  Red, Blue, Green and Yellow.

That didn’t mean it was all sunshine and roses.

The four were hyper competitive and loved to fight. Way too much, in Purple’s opinion. They got up in arms over such little things. Even Blue, who opted for taking a peaceful approach when possible, was quick to join in a fray. Purple found himself either stomping out potential skirmishes or letting them tussle it out of their system. Purple wondered if Navy had met them, would he try to coax him to be more like his friends?

The thought of their similarities to Navy plagued him. It didn’t help that of the four, he and Green got into a lot of frequent clashes when they were out adventuring. Green seemed to be a de facto leader of the group, and haughty. Purple found Green the most vexing; some days he went along with Purple’s ideas, and other times Green wouldn’t stop nitpicking them.

And Purple learned the hard way that if Green was crossed enough, he would raise a sword against him.

They were in the middle of making a build, Purple and Green already started with an argument on either building a pagoda or a castle. When neither could settle the dispute, Blue suggested building on the castle on one side and the pagoda on the other. That worked for a bit, until Purple discovered that Green’s castle cut on his side where his pagoda should be. Purple tried to mine down the walls to make room, causing Green to come by to stop him. They argued and argued, only stopping when Green pointed his sword at Purple.

“Green! No!” Blue scolded, forcing Green’s arm down. Purple could see Green’s arm strain, glare not leaving Purple’s for a moment.

How that glare reminded him of Navy…

“That’s it, we’re done here,” Purple said, dropping his materials and marching away.

“Wait, where’re you going?” Red asked as Purple pushed past her.

“Home. And don’t bother coming this weekend or any other weekend after that,” Purple snapped.

“Wait- why?” Yellow balked.

The question, so simple and yet so stupid that Purple had to stop and look back at them.

“Why? You raise a sword at me and ask me why?” Purple yelled, “I’m not going to be friends with people who’ll raise a sword against me over a stupid build!”

The gang looked between him and the others in complete horror and shock. Green stared at his sword, slowly blinking as though it had only occurred to him what he had done.

“But… fighting is part of the game!” Red said. “I mean, we’ve fought with swords before, and you weren’t bothered by that?”

“I WAS bothered!” Purple said, “You have no idea how much it bothers me with how violent you all get! You guys are on the cusp of violence half the time, and it’s scary!”

Red, Blue, and Yellow exchanged an unreadable look. Then, Blue tentatively stepped up, hands clasped. 

“Why didn’t you let us know that it bothered you before?”

“It was obvious!” Purple snapped, stomping the ground. He deflated a bit when he saw Blue flinch back. “It was.”

There was a beat of silence before Blue continued. “We didn’t notice, honest! I know we’re easy to rile up, but if you told us that this bothered you so much we’d try harder to do better.” She rubbed her arm. “We probably could have avoided this if you had.”

“Plus, don’t let yourself off the hook,” Yellow added, “I mean, you kept riling up Green over this build instead of dropping it, and talking over him whenever he said anything.”

Purple rankled and pointed a finger at Yellow. “So? That doesn’t mean I deserve to have a sword pointed at me!”

“I’m not saying that,” Yellow said, raising his hands in defense. “I'm just being honest about how I feel- you dislike how we fight each other, and I dislike that you aren't clear about how you feel. It didn’t need to come to this point.”

“We’re your friends,” Red said, though with a questioning lift to her tone, “surely you should feel safe enough to tell us these things?”

No, I don’t, Purple thought, but he couldn’t get himself to say it out loud. He hated that, right now, he was proving them right. Hated that he always felt the need to clam up and hide his true feelings. Hated that he was being put on the spot. Hated how nervous and hurt they looked when he kept saying nothing.

He looked to Green, who had not said a word the entire time. Green stared down at his sword, muted and contemplating. When he looked up to see Purple’s gaze on him, he let out a nervous sigh and dropped the sword to the ground. The others turned to him upon hearing the clatter.

“Green?” Blue asked, but Green didn’t say anything. Very slowly he walked up to Purple, stopping only when Purple felt his foot move a step back.

“I’m sorry,” Green said, “I let my temper get the better of me. I shouldn’t have raised my sword at you over an argument over a build.”

Purple looked down at their feet. “You are aware that could have hurt me,” he said, quietly, “Killed me if you were careless.”

“I-” Green blanched, “No, I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry I didn’t know our fighting bothered you that much.”

Purple looked down at Green. His eyes were hidden, and his normally confident stance subdued and ashamed. Whatever vindictive thought Purple had about leaving or telling him off vanished.

I don’t want to be like my mom, making excuses for Navy, Purple thought, but I’m not doing myself a favor in ditching them.

He should give them a second chance.

“And Green? I’m sorry too, for not explaining how I felt earlier,” Purple said, looking at Blue, Red, and Yellow too, “let me be honest now: I don’t want you to fight like that. Swords and TNT shouldn’t be drawn or thrown over something as trivial as builds. I don’t want to ever feel like I’m going to get hurt if I did something wrong.”

“We will work on that, starting right now,” Yellow stepped up, “No matter how difficult it is, we’ll do better! We won’t fight like that again.”

“Promise?” Purple asked.

Yellow nodded and Blue stepped up. “Yeah, we promise.”

“But you’ll need to give us grace,” Red said, “We like sparring, but we’ll spar only when it’s appropriate- not when we’re angry.”

“Well, a spar’s different than a fight,” Purple said, “I just… I’ve seen what fighting like that leads to, arguments and fists.” His head drifted down. “It hurts people more than you think.”

It was the closest to voicing his mother and father’s whole affair to them. He should tell them, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Then, can we still hang out?” Green asked. He blinked rapidly, and Purple saw tears forming.

Purple looked down at Green, acknowledging the hopeful look in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Purple nodded and opened his arms for a hug. “See you on Saturday.”

He wasn’t prepared to be ensnared in a group hug as the others joined Green in hugging them, but their embrace felt comforting if a bit tight.

I just hope I’m not repeating my mom’s mistake.

[boy-comics]

RENT-FREE

── .✦ pairing; ♭form!o.de x gn!reader

── .✦ summary; chance leads you to oh seungmin. something else leads to you stay.

── .✦ word count; ~4.7k

── .✦ tags; swearing, mentioned family issues, discussions of death, fluff, hurt/comfort, romantic tension, roommates to friends to lovers(??), seungmom™, takes place in the "real" world

── .✦ a/n; ahahaha (lying in a ditch)

After graduating, getting a job, moving out, and doing all the other things one needs to do to be considered a real adult, you realize something: pride, that bright, delicate thing that you've clung to all these years, means very, very little.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's just until I find another apartment. I won't even argue with him anymore, Mama—"

"Honey, I'm sorry, but you should know why I can't trust you to do that."

You stare at your phone screen, the call time climbing up ever slowly. Your mother continues talking, her voice tinny through the speaker, trying to soothe your irritation without giving in, but you can feel your thoughts growing pricklier and pricklier with each reasoning.

Just kick him out for a little while, you want to yell at her, don't you care about your own kid having a roof over their head? Why choose that deadbeat over me?

"So what am I supposed to do, then, Mama? My roommate's gone and I can't pay rent all on my own. I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either. I'll ask around and see if anyone can help you out. But this is adulthood, honey; things like this happen, and you just need to figure out what to do."

If you could afford it, you'd throw your phone against the wall.

"… I know. Thanks, Mama. Talk to you later."

"Make sure to eat, honey."

Pressing the end call button, you drop your phone on your bed and scream into your pillow.

—

What you end up doing, all by yourself, is break your lease early and shoulder the penalty fees. Then you pack up what little belongings you have and camp out at an old classmate's place (just until your next paycheck at the most, you had promised), and work and search for apartments and search for roommates and sleep and eat and work again.

Your mother calls just as you're looking up motel prices. You don't want to pick up, but again, pride means very, very little.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hi. Are you still looking for a place?"

"Yep."

"Okay, good. I was talking to Oh Seungmin's mother. You remember him, don't you? You went to the same high school. He was on the basketball team."

Your brow furrows. "Oh Seungmin?"

"So you do remember him."

"… Yes."

You're sure he doesn't remember you, though. Oh Seungmin had always belonged to a different crowd than yours, a really different crowd, even if you did walk to and from the same neighborhood together for a brief time. If your mother is suggesting what you think she's suggesting, you must be thinking wrong, somehow.

"He lives somewhere near where you work. His mother talked to him, and he's willing to let you stay with him until you find something more permanent."

You blink.

"Honey? What do you think?"

"I—uh." Your cursor continues to hover over the room price typed in bold on your laptop, and as you absorb what has just been offered, it drifts down to the corner of the screen. "How much would I need to pay?"

"Ah. I forgot to ask. She gave me his number to give to you just in case, though, so just ask him. It's—"

You type down the number and save it, praying to whatever lives upstairs that this isn't the beginning of some awful cosmic joke.

—

You move into Oh Seungmin's place on a late Sunday morning in May.

"Do you need help unpacking?"

"No, it's okay." You gesture vaguely at your suitcase, backpack, and laundry basket of bed things. "This is it."

Seungmin nods, his eyes flitting between the three things containing your entire life. There is a smile on his face, small and polite but awkward, like he's entertaining a surprise guest despite having expected you for the past three days. "Oh, okay. Cool."

You smile back, just as awkward. This Seungmin is slightly different from what you remember. High school Seungmin was more outgoing, a star athlete and the dream of every girl in your class. In this small apartment in the shadier part of the city, he seems more subdued, a little lonelier around the edges. Or maybe that's only because it's you.

He is still absurdly good-looking, though.

"I didn't know if you were okay with the couch or a futon mattress, so both are out. I have extra pillows if you need them … you don't have a closet, so we could buy a foldable one or something and put it in the corner if you want."

"I'm okay with the futon mattress. And it's fine—I'll just keep things in my suitcase. I won’t be in your hair for long, anyway."

"All right." His fingers tap an oddly controlled rhythm along the side of his thigh—not that you were already looking, you just catch the movement at the edge of your vision—and then he clears his throat. "Well, I'll let you get your stuff unpacked. I made some curry rice so we can eat afterwards. Hopefully you'll like it. I think you told me it was your favorite, once, a long time ago."

Some of the ice on your tongue melts.

"It still is."

His smile cracks open a bit wider, a bit more genuinely. "Really? Nice. I'll get everything set up, then."

"I'll be quick."

The living room and the kitchen are squeezed together with no divider, so you are graced with the ambiance of clinking ceramic bowls and silverware while you set your things out to organize them. The faint smell of curry and rice that you had detected when you had first stepped foot into this home intensifies with the sound of the microwave running.

Eating lunch with Oh Seungmin is a simple affair that grows more comfortable with time. You go over the house rules and contributions again, and it's funny, you find, the way the two of you agree on things so easily despite not having talked in years. Then again, it is only the first day.

"There is one thing, though," Seungmin says, taking your plate along with his to rinse them in the sink. "I have a synthesizer and record a lot of music for work. I'll keep my door closed, but if you're here and it bothers you, just tell me. I'll use headphones."

"Oh," you say, surprised. You don't remember Seungmin having a strong interest in music. A synthesizer. That's interesting. "Okay, I'll let you know." A thought hits you and you ask conversationally, "Do you use ♭form at all?"

You don't have an account yourself, having put it off time and time again. Conversation, that's all you had intended. But as soon as you mention ♭form, it's like the shutters close, and Seungmin's tone shifts from open and friendly into something strange and even guarded.

"Sometimes. Just the audience and solo modes, though."

He changes the subject after that. Of course, you still can't help but wonder for the rest of the day, especially when he disappears into his room for the rest of the afternoon, strange and beautiful music trickling out from underneath the door.

—

Seungmin tells you that it's been a while since he's had people stay over, but despite his modesty, you find him to be a wonderful roommate.

"Are you done using the glass cleaner?"

"Yeah, it's in here."

Heading to the bathroom, you spot Seungmin dutifully spraying the shower with cleaner and hold your breath, grabbing the glass cleaner from its place on the floor and stepping back out quickly.

"Did you find it?"

"Yeah, it was right there," you say.

He turns around to check, and you can't help but grin. Standing like that in the bathroom, he almost looks like a harried mom, old baggy shirt tucked into equally worn sweatpants, hair messy, a mask covering the lower half of his face and large yellow gloves covering his hands. When he raises his eyebrows, you snort.

"What?"

"You look like a mom."

"Finish your chores," he says sternly, even waggling his head, and you laugh again before leaving to wipe the windows.

Cleaning day is surprisingly mellow in your temporary home. Seungmin has the bathroom and his bedroom while you take the kitchen and living room, and you're both quite efficient. The initial awkwardness at the beginning has eased significantly over the past week, and if you were feeling optimistic, you'd say that the two of you are friendlier now than you were as students—even if he does spend a lot of time in his room.

"Hey, you wanna do something after this?" Seungmin calls out. You hear the shower turn on, followed by the sound of water splashing over the walls.

"Like what?"

"We could shoot some hoops."

"Ha-ha, that's funny."

"Well, now we have to go shoot some hoops." You make a face, and even though he can't see it, Seungmin tacks on, "I'll buy you garlic cheese bread after."

"How many?"

"One plus one more for each basket you make."

Well. That's an offer you can't refuse. "Deal."

"Okay. After I clean the toilet, I'm gonna shower and then we can head out."

You finish vacuuming and mopping the floors by the time he comes out of the bathroom, hair toweled to a curly dampness and no longer smelling like bleach. He looks like a young, fashionable man again, and you think that it might have been a little easier to talk to him when he was masked up and rubber-gloved.

"Ready?"

"I'll still get one free garlic cheese bread even if I miss all the shots, right?"

"Yes, but you can't be that bad at basketball."

"Try me."

There's a basketball court about ten minutes away from the apartment complex that Seungmin frequents. There's another one that's closer, newer, but upon passing by and asking about it, you're told that he avoids that court because it's too popular.

"Isn't it better to play with a group of people?" you question.

He shrugs, head turning away from you. "I just like to do my own thing when I'm here."

(It strikes you as a bit odd, but you keep that thought to yourself.)

"We're here." Seungmin dribbles the ball for a few seconds, then passes it to you. "You remember some stuff from gym class, don't you?"

"I mean, yeah, but that doesn't mean I can do it," you retort, passing the ball back. "Why don't you give an example and I copy it?"

Your companion turns and promptly shoots the basketball towards the hoop. It cuts a majestic arc through the air before falling through the hoop with a devastatingly clean swoosh.

You stare as he jogs down to fetch the ball, returning with a self-satisfied grin. "Okay, well, don't expect that kind of technique from me. I'm fine with my one bread."

"No, I'm going to make sure you get at least two. Here." Seungmin comes closer, plopping the basketball into your outstretched palms. "Just dribble it a little and pass it back and forth so you can get the feel for it."

You slowly bounce the ball on the concrete. It's haphazard, coming back up at different angles with no discernible rhythm, but you can actually keep it up for more than ten seconds. Clapping his hands, Seungmin shouts encouragement and gestures for you to pass it to him.

"What were you talking about? You're fine at this." The ball travels between the two of you several times before he points to the hoop. "Try to shoot."

Emboldened, you cradle the basketball in your dominant hand and stare up at the hoop. Aiming at the backboard, you launch it with a quiet grunt.

The ball hits the rim and shoots off to the side.

"... That's okay, that's okay! Try again."

You feel like the kid winning a pity prize at school. It really shouldn't be a big deal, with you being a whole-ass adult and all, but you can't prevent the frustration that roils up anyway as Seungmin tosses the ball back to you.

"I'm just going to miss."

"You won't know unless you try, right?"

When you roll your eyes at his sage-like wisdom, he sighs, circling around to stand behind you.

His arms come around to adjust yours into the right position, and you nearly choke on your own spit.

"Keep your shooting arm close." He taps the inside of your foot with the toe of his shoe. "Feet shoulder width apart, knees bent, 'cause the power comes from your legs. Your other hand is just there to guide. And follow through."

His voice is soft against your ear. You swallow dryly, only daring to breathe again when he steps away.

Oh, no.

"That easy, huh?" you croak, bending your knees.

"If you want it to be."

You shoot the ball. It soars upward—downward—hits the backboard, rolls along the orange rim and falls through the net.

You and Seungmin stare for a moment. Then Seungmin nudges you with his elbow and holds out his fist.

"Yo, yo, yo! Good job, [Y/n]-ssi!"

Your eyes roll again as you bump fists with him, but it's bashful this time, and you hate how exposed it makes you feel. "You're a literal mom and dad rolled into one."

"Does that make you my offspring?"

"Sure would beat being the offspring of my actual parents." You wince as soon as the joke leaves your mouth.

"Oh."

Seungmin blinks, and laughs a bit, but it's so obviously unsure that everything that's been going so right today veers into complete fuckup territory.

You dig your hands into your pockets and scuff your shoes. "... Sorry. Shitty joke."

"Ah, it's fine ..."

And yet, neither of you say anything more.

Shit.

While you rub your arms, hobbling towards the basketball rolling steadily towards the grass, you hear Seungmin follow. The scrape of his shoes against the asphalt peters out as you pick up the ball, and when you turn around, he's regarding you carefully. You find an interest in the words stamped onto the basketball.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"Not really." You spin the ball in your hands. "I mean, it's not like you never knew, and nothing's really changed, and that's why I'm here in the first place. So."

Seungmin nods slightly and hums, scratching his nose.

"I didn't mean to kill the mood."

"No," he says immediately, "don't worry about anything like that. You're good company."

You look at Seungmin. He stares back, and for a brief moment, you remember a boy with the same dark eyes, under a similar sky, sitting with you at the corner of a convenience store after school because you didn't want to go home.

"Oh. Okay."

"You wanna try for a third garlic cheese bread?"

"Nah, you kinda killed the vibe with all that mushy gushy stuff."

Seungmin hisses through his teeth when you punch his shoulder. "Damn."

"Only joking. Can we go now, though? I'm hungry."

"Yeah, sure."

—

In the brief interludes where neither of you have anywhere to be, you and Seungmin inevitably gravitate towards one another. That's what happens when people get along, you guess, though it's been so long that it surprises you when Seungmin actually joins you on the couch with a tub of popcorn.

"That for me?"

"That for us," he corrects as you press play on the laptop and settle back into the cushions. "Is the volume high enough?"

"Oh." You lean forward again. "Now it is."

Seungmin had been neutral at best towards pirating a horror movie from five years ago—he could take them or leave them, depending on the quality—but you had cited its several awards and didn't want to watch it alone, so here he was, ready to pass judgment on your choice.

"Don't scream too loudly," he gibes as the music drops to a low simmer, "or the neighbors will complain."

You scoff, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "I'm right here if you need a shoulder to cry on, Seungmin-ssi."

Thirty minutes into the movie, both of you swallow your words.

You'd taken it as a sign of good taste that multiple reviews had credited Come Into My Head as providing nightmare fuel for weeks, but now you realize that good taste may not be in your best interest. Not when you're shaking like a leaf next to your roommate, who is sitting stiffly, nearly stone-like.

When the killer jumps out, both of you let out a shriek that triggers angry thumping from above.

"Shitshitshit." Another jump scare slashes across the screen, and you leap out of your skin when Seungmin's hand clamps down on your arm. "SHIT."

"Y-You're making my arm numb," you whisper, but you make no move to pry him off, eyes glued to the screen.

"Sorry—"

When the lead actor screams, you can't take it anymore and suffocate Seungmin's arm between your own, smashing your face into his shoulder with a pathetic whimper.

... Unfortunately, said shoulder ends up being so warm and muscular that you sober up from your fear-drunkeness long enough to be overcome with embarrassment.

"Uh." Your action seems to have the same effect on Seungmin, whose grip immediately loosens.

"I'm sorry," you blather, starting to pull away. "I swear I'm not trying to—"

"It's fine," Seungmin interrupts. "I, uh, don't mind if you don't. I'm kind of terrified right now?"

"Me too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The corners of his lips quirk upward. If it weren't for the gory, red lighting of the movie illuminating his face, and if you weren't so sure of his opinion on you, you would think that Oh Seungmin was blushing.

Yeah. You lean back until you're pressed against Seungmin once more, arms wrapped around his and shoulder pressing shoulder. His right hand reaches around to squeeze yours with every on-screen death and you can feel each joint of each finger over your own. I'm terrified.

—

It takes two whole weeks before shit hits the fan.

It had been an unexpectedly warm day, so you had decided to impulse buy some ice cream bars on the way back from work. Seungmin would appreciate it, being cooped up in the apartment with his synthesizer. You haven't been able to catch him outside his room for the past day. Maybe you could hang out and talk in the kitchen while you polished off one or two ice cream bars.

Sticking the box of chocolate-coated vanilla in the freezer, you quietly walk over to Seungmin's bedroom and examine the doorknob. There's no Do Not Disturb sign hanging from it, and it's not locked, which you take as the go-ahead to knock.

"Seungmin-ssi, I got ice cream."

You wait. No reply.

Frowning, you press your ear against the door, wondering if he's working on some music, but you don't hear anything. Of course, he could be using headphones for some reason.

"Hello?" You knock and then call for him once more, making sure to be loud. "Hey, I'm coming in."

With that, you enter his room.

Nothing seems out of place. That is, until you see Seungmin hunched over on the edge of his bed, hands trembling and forehead drenched with sweat.

"Seungmin!"

Stumbling over your feet to rush over, you grab ahold of his shoulders and shake him. Seungmin jolts and shivers, then looks up with wide, glazed eyes, and it frightens you so badly you reach up to grab his face. It feels cold.

"Hey. Hey! What happened?!"

He stares up at you, completely vacant, and then he finally blinks. It seems to trigger something because he starts gasping for breath, clutching your wrists as he registers your presence.

"What happened?" you repeat, voice cracking from the volume.

He winces. "I dunno," he rasps, wetting his lips. "I think we ... I think we broke the system?"

The use of we raises a flag in your mind, but considering the present circumstances, you put that aside for now. For all you know, his brain could be fried like an egg and churning out nonsense. "Broke what system?"

He looks down.

You follow his gaze. There is a pair of strange glasses on the floor by his feet. Hesitantly, as if you might get burned, you pick them up.

Upon inspection, you notice '♭form' faintly etched into the frames. There's a button on top of the left hinge, but nothing happens when you press it. Frowning, you press it again, only to curse when something neon red fizzles briefly across the lenses. Then it’s dead once more.

"Oh," you murmur dumbly. You look at him again.

Seungmin's lips press together, eyes still fixed on the glasses, and he swallows. His gaze then moves to you and the emptiness of it slowly ebbs away.

He is silent, despondent, and he takes a moment before he tells you something so sincerely it stuns you.

"That was the only place where I mattered."

And, truthfully, it feels like he's slapped you across the face.

You gape at him, throat suddenly tight, and when he continues to sit without another word, you shut your mouth so violently your jaw tingles.

The strange behavior makes sense now. The brief periods of dullness after leaving his room, the rare but suspicious checking out from conversations, the obsession with music. You had overlooked these things because the moments between them had been some of the best you’ve ever had. They had mattered to you.

Apparently, he had never felt the same way.

"You don't think you matter here?" you say, numb. Your grip tightens around the glasses. "What was the fucking point of all this, then?"

His brow furrows. "… What do you mean?"

It feels like prying open the shell of a living creature, exposing everything that's meant to be kept safely hidden away. You do not know why the living creature is you and not Seungmin. You don't know why Seungmin makes it so damn easy to spill your guts, revealing the self-centered and bitter parts of you that drive everyone else away.

"Do I not matter either?" you ask.

The sound of your own voice, angry and trembling, immediately disgusts you. You bite your tongue and turn away.

"What? Hey, that's not—"

"Nevermind. Forget it."

As you head straight for the door, you have this grand idea in your head that you're going to storm out of the apartment, spend a few hours blowing off some steam, and then return to pack up your stuff and stop adding to Seungmin's misery. But that would require you to be faster than Seungmin, and for his apartment to be large enough to create enough distance between you and him.

Reality unfolds as such: you getting one foot across the doorway, Seungmin grabbing your wrist, and you stopping far too quickly.

"That's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry, I'm just—just let me explain."

"I'm a little too pissed off to listen nicely, Seungmin-ssi."

"That's fine. As long as you believe me." When you look back at him, he squeezes your wrist. "Please stay."

He's pleading. His hand is clammy. And because your pride means so little, and because you have become so horribly attached—you stay.

You let him lead you back into his room to sit on his bed. You stay, and you listen as he starts from the very beginning.

By the time he's done, having explained the train, the fighting, the surreal time loop his band had just broken after what had seemed like days, you are just about ready to break down.

"So you're telling me that you've been wanted by ♭form for the past year?" you say, throat dry, and Seungmin nods. "What would've happened to you here if you died in there?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the pain sticks after I log off."

The pain sticks. Good god. You lean over and hold your head in your hands, feeling nauseous. "Seungmin-ssi, that's not okay. What the fuck."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't think you would be this upset if you found out."

"Of course I would? I live with you? Do you know how traumatizing it would be to come back from work and find out you're brain dead? Like, fuck," you laugh, feeling your lungs constrict, "oh, my god, what if I lost you?"

Seungmin is quiet. Then he says, almost whispering, "Lost me?"

The disbelief in his echo causes you to close your eyes. Everything is coming out now. You can feel them bubbling over, crawling out from between your ribs, thoughts and confessions that you have stuffed down for fear that they would be ridiculed.

He utters your name, the end of it curling upward in bewilderment.

"Seungmin-ssi." You take a deep breath. "You're kind, and caring, and the first person in actual years who I felt actually gave a shit about me. If something happened to you, I ... part of me would probably die too, I think."

It's too hot in his room. Your vision goes blurry, and you feel your nose start to burn. You sniffle. Hands falling into your lap, you dig your nails into the fabric of your uniform pants. You're sweaty and teary and miserably cracked open, and it's hot, and all you can do is sit and wait for his response.

Beside you, Seungmin shifts in place.

Then two arms wrap around you, warmth upon warmth, a cheek resting against the side of your head as he holds you.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me," he breathes. "I'm sorry for being so reckless with myself. I was ... I was wrong."

Your tears start to fall onto his shoulder. "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'm here." His hand ghosts up and down your back, the barest of tremors in his fingers. "You matter to me, too. So, so much."

Oh. A sob escapes your lips.

You're so selfish. Selfish for having him comfort you after what he went through in ♭form, selfish for dirtying his shoulder with your tears, selfish for feeling this way about him after so little time.

Selfish for wanting to stay.

You tighten your grip on the back of his shirt. Seungmin hums. He pulls away just slightly to look at your face, and you almost tear up again when he wipes the wetness from your cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes glossier than normal.

"I'm sorry," you croak as he does so, reaching up to touch the dark circles under his eyes. "I didn't even check if you were okay. Are you okay?"

He chuckles a bit wetly, hugging you again. "I'm better now. Thanks for asking."

"Do you need water?"

"I'll get some in a few minutes. Don't worry."

"It's hot. I came in to ask if you wanted ice cream. I bought a box from the store."

"Oh, you did?"

Neither of you move, bodies pressed close, intertwined. You are buried in his scent.

"We can have them now," you offer, with effort, "if you want."

"Is that what you want?"

You bite your lower lip. "... If it makes you feel better."

His mouth presses against your temple. Against it, he admits, "It is hot. But ..."

He does not finish that sentence. But you understand, and something blooms, trembling, in your chest.

"Maybe later," you finish drowsily.

Leaning into him further, you hear his soft agreement, his hands stroking down your arms with a surety that had not been present before. He keeps you here, with him, real and breathing, living.

You are not alone. And neither is he.

Thank you for accepting me. Thank you for loving my prideless self. I'm glad we exist here, in this world, together.

[yourstingrey]

Foolish One

A/N:Hiii i already tried to post this once and run away for the weekend so I didn't have to see any notes but I forgot tags so reposting lol but thank you for the support on my last fic as well I tried to take my time with this one and even though I'm still not the biggest fan of it I thought I should still post it so I can improve next time!!!

Wc:3081

Warnings: angst, situationship, lowkey toxic relationship, hinting at hooking up, i gave the cabins a bathroom cus im not making you walk outside for that, grammar??

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans

And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again.

Me and Luke have had a bit of a flirtationship for a while. A LONG while. Sometimes I think for too long but I've always had a crush on Luke. I mean the greatest swordsman at camp, always so helpful to new campers, and he's so beautiful. So when he finally noticed me months ago I gushed to my siblings about it, in the beginning, it was perfect. He would invite me on perfect dates, little picnics by the lake, walks in the forest together ranting about things at camp that bugged us, and even a couple of ‘hangouts’ in the Hermes cabin when everyone was off. 

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

But nowadays he's always so busy I mean I can't blame him he's THE role model of camp. Plus he never forgets to slip a letter to my siblings saying he was sorry for not seeing me but I know where he is. He's never really busy.

And I will block out these voices of reason in my head. 

And the voices say, "You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson"

Moths fill my stomach as I walk to the Hermes cabin eating holes inside me and making my nerves practically leak out of me as I approach the door. Finally reaching the pale yellow door and sucked in my breath before knocking. I rock back and forth on my heels staring at the stained glass above the door before refocusing my attention on the door opening. To my dismay, it wasn't Luke who I planned on asking to hang out with today but instead, Chris opened the door.

As he opened the door he made an almost pitiful look “Are you looking for Luke..?” I cleared my throat awkwardly before speaking “Oh um yeah… do you know where he would be by any chance!”. The look on his face practically sunk in more but then I think he realized how he was staring at me “I think he is out training but he might be busy so maybe you shouldn't see him” he said rushed while rubbing the back of his neck like it was sore “Thanks Chris but I'm sure he won't mind i'll be super quick!”

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Leaves crunch as I walk the arena mumbling under my breath how to ask to have a break with him. Even a quick walk in the woods would work. I'm desperate for Luke now even if he wants to say he doesn't want to see me anymore I'd take it. Arena in sight my pace quickens to the entrance ready to slip in but pause as I hear the unmistakable charming laugh of Lukes but also unfamiliar hushed giggles. 

As I stand outside the clear opening I purse my lips before deciding that I would peak in just in I mean it's not like I mean to eavesdrop but I've never seen Luke with any girls so publicly he insists he likes things like that to be private saying “it's more special to keep it to ourselves”. The moment I looked inside the arena my heart dropped to my stomach it was Luke and Drew. Drew was a daughter of Aphrodite and you could tell she was tall and had long dark hair she was beautiful. Clearly, something Luke said must have said the funniest thing on the planet as they couldn't stop laughing. 

In some universe where I was braver, I would march up to them and ask what was so funny but instead, I cowered, peaking in still. But in the worst-case scenario, Luke looked over at the entrance. It wasn't even some corny I slipped and he saw he just looked over. It was clear he saw me, he whispered something over to Drew and now she was looking too. It felt like I was in quicksand I couldn't move and I was sinking deeper and deeper now that she was watching and he was heading over.

As he jogs over I hear him in an out of breath tone spit out “Hey what are you doing here?” I go back to rocking on my heels “Oh uhhh I just came to see you because we just haven't hung out in a while. I mean if you're busy it's okay just uh y'know..” I mumble out the last bit embarrassed of my stammering. Rubbing the back of his neck looking behind him before turning back at me sharply inhaling through his teeth and saying “Uh… sure yeah how about you meet me later at the spot? Just go at night and I'll meet you there.” I try not to look visibly awkward by the curt sound of his voice but I won't prod to see if that's true “Okay I'll meet you there later!” 

He looked at me before giving me a quick bye and spinning on his heel back to Drew. But honestly, I was riding a tiny high right now. I was excited to see him.  A coy smile plays on my lips as I go back to my cabin.

You know how to keep me waitin'

I know how to act like I'm fine

Don't know what to call this situation

But I know I can't call you mine

Picking out an outfit isn't hard when most of your clothes consist of orange camp shirts or the few cute clothes you took from home. I landed on shorts and a sweater before finally tiptoeing out of my cabin. The cold chill of the evening air was overwhelmed by the almost caffeine jitter bounce running through my body as I walked a secret path Luke and I practically created with how much our shoes scuffed up the ground leading to our spot. 

Reaching the end of the path expecting a familiar head of curls to be sitting maybe watching the stars waiting instead I stare out into the empty small clearing. My eyes sting and my lip wobbles. I quietly continue to shuffle over until I sit down trying to shake it off to him running a bit late. We didn't say exactly what time so honestly I felt silly getting upset. Relaxed now I bring my knees up to my chest and prop my chin up on them holding my legs with my arms. Sitting in our spot felt nostalgic for the earlier summer, stumbling off into the woods looking to escape prying eyes and stumbling on this exact spot…

And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder

It starts thinkin' you'll come around

Swift feet run through the forest as I feel my arm being tugged along to keep up, “Luke! Slow down trust me no one is gonna find us at this rate!” my voice practically cuts out like glitches through my laughter as Luke finally slows down his pace to turn back to me “Yknow you're no fun in trying to make it private for us” tilting his head to the side and giving me a joking pout. I grab his hand and swing it back and forth “Shut up if that's true why do you spend so much of your precious time with me then hmmm?” He drops my hand and starts to walk backward further into the woods “You know what... You're on to something I've gotta get away from you! I think you must have put a spell on me, are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite after all?”

 I follow after him and jokingly shove him to the side to walk in front of him “ugh you're such a jerk someti-” My feet lifted from the ground cutting my sentence off, feeling his strong arms wrap around my torso and looking down at his laughing face before he starts to spin us in a circle a quick few times before stop and setting me back down. Looking up at Luke to see him gazing at the view in front of us, an almost perfect clearing giving you a view of the calm water below and the blue sky above a log laid down in front of it grabbing hold of luke's hand again and tugging it to get him to sit down against the log with me. Sitting I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder, knees bumping as we sat our interlocked hands sat in my lap and I just stared down at them in this light with him and me sitting here they looked almost like they were carved out of marble made only fit with each other perfectly. I changed my gaze to peer up through my lashes at Luke now to see he was already looking at me. My cheeks flare up in a warm pink glow as I feel my chest humming, his face leans down, his other hand reaching up to cup the burning cheek, eyes fluttering shut lips brushing in delicate kisses while Luke grins into it…

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception, You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love. That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

I shiver maybe at the breeze passing by, maybe at the memory I couldn't tell, hugging my knees tighter and looking out before the sound of a leaf quietly crunches behind me. I didn't look back though I knew it was him no one else knew our spot was too far out. He slid right next to me on the log before speaking up in a quiet tone “I'm sorry I took so long just.. Yknow my cabin has so many campers it's hard to duck out when you're their counselor, I really didn't mean to keep you waiting..” Finishing his sentence he pulls me into him making me cuddle into his side. I sigh contently forgiving him in my head because to be wrapped up with him shining down on us like a spotlight made it feel right. “s’okay thank you for coming Luke..” “Of course..”

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands 

Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

Oh, you haven't written me or called, But goodbye screamin' in the silence

We sat there together for a while and talked about what we had missed in each other's lives until the quiet chill made our hands feel frozen even with them clasped tightly together. Luke said he would walk me back to my cabin saying “If we get caught I'll just say I caught you sneaking out and I'm taking you back” Thanking the gods that we have Luke's counselor job as pass I really don't think I could handle Mr. D and Chiron put me back to cleaning the stables which I only did to take the blame for Luke last summer. 

We arrive back into camp feeling Luke unclasp our hands without a word. My steps flatter for a mere second before I simply choose to ignore the action and catch up with his stride. As we walk I speak up “Um thanks for walking me back to my cabin I really appreciate it..” “It's no problem can’t let my favorite archer walk out in the cold alone!” he says in a positive but quiet voice. “So I was wondering if I could see you again yknow maybe we could just eat together or something if you don't have a lot of time..?” Our steps come to a halt in front of my cabin now he looks at me sucking a breath from his teeth before opening his mouth to speak “Ah.. I think I'm kinda busy tomorrow, Drew asked if I could show her how to get better at sword fighting so I have to show her that… I think I'll be doing it for a while. Y’know how practice makes perfect but I'll let you know when I'm free.” 

My lips pursed together for a moment looking at my shoes as he talks and finally looking back at him when he finishes “Oh okay.. Well yeah just let me know! See you later!” I hear him mumble a quick ‘yep night’ before turning around and walking off, I stand there for a moment almost waiting to see if he would look back and maybe try to catch a glimpse of me going in, but he didn't.

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

And you will say you had the best of intentions

And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Creeping back to my bunk as quietly as possible trying not to disturb any of my sleeping siblings, but forgetting about one extra creaky floorboard located directly next to one of my sister's bunks, at camp practically everyone is a light sleeper after having to go on a quest.  A mess of tangles and a sleeping mask shot up before my sister Rey pulled it off her eyes to see me ‘doing the walk of shame’ as she once called it. “What are you doing awake…?” her voice quiet and still full of sleepiness “Oh yknoww I just hung out with Luke for a bit..”

 She sat up a little straighter and gave me the same look Chris gave me this evening. “You saw Luke..? I thought you guys were like totally over…” “Well, not completely we just fell out a bit I'm going to see him again soon he just is going to help train campers for a bit y'know!” Her brows furrow and her mouth twists with disdain “Is that camper.. Drew?” leaning against a bedpost and starting to pick at my nails “I mean yeah but like-” A loud groan cuts me off “You're kidding. I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings but.. Do you really think they're training? It just seems like what you guys used to do if you ask me..”

 She tucked herself back into the covers rolling over to stop facing me leaving me with a not so subtle hint. Walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth so i could finally sleep i find myself staring at my figure in the mirror longer, my hand dropping down to stop brushing setting it down on the sink, my lip starts to wobble again and the bitter sting filled my eyes again blurring my vision as i sunk to the floor to sit on the cool tiles for a bit. Drew and Luke were doing exactly what they used to do ‘training’ is Luke's code word for fucking. I knew that already, we used to use it often. But i thought if he saw me tonight then it couldn't be that. He wouldn't do that. But Luke would, he knows that I know those code words but Luke wouldn't do that… 

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Waking up felt like a chore this morning, the sun shining instead of being warm and inviting felt like it was melting me down into a pile of mush as I got up. Walking to the mess hall was worse seeing them sit together breaking the camper's sit with their cabin's rule, giggling into each other's ears like I saw them before. Walking past them to my table hoping he would spare me a glance just a small look that said ‘I'm only entertaining her for a bit and I'll be back’ but he was practically bewitched by her. 

Ain't never gonna come

Ooh, you will learn the hard way now

Foolish one

Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love

They ain't never gonna come

A week passed by and he never came running back instead he ran around with her, when it finally sunk in the pitiful sorrys of my sibling and even a handful of Luke's friends came but they fell silent on my ears wallowing in my self-pity, shutting in my cabin for a bit before deciding I couldn't just shut myself in because I lost the 3rd most decent head of curls in camp. The night came crickets chirping, acting as my background music as I took my throw blanket off my bed to sneak out just to take a short walk to relax. Heading down the long path noticing fresh grass starting to grow back out of the scuffed dirt it brought a small grin back to my face which fell almost immediately at the sight of two figures in a oh so familiar spot. 

And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out

Foolish one

The day is gonna come for your confessions of love

When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one

No, he just wasn't the one

[palajae]

hypegirl! | two.

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT ▸ 3.2k

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo. 

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man? 

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister and pretends to be her brother sunoo, mentions of porta pottys? —let me know if there’s any typos!

masterlist. | next.

ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL… 

you’re kidding. 

not only were team selections in two days, sunoo (the real one) had just texted you that there was a fair tomorrow. 

with both the soccer camp and your (his?) music camp in attendance. the soccer players were allowed free entrance as it was their day off, while musicians from the band camp were invited to perform and volunteer amidst all the activity. 

“h-hey, niki.” you call out while still texting your brother. “have you heard about some fair tomorrow?”

he sits up. “oh yeah. i was just talking to jay about it. our group is gonna go. it’d be a great chance for you to bond with the other members of the team. you know, brownie points or whatever it’s called.”

you pretend to look excited, “oh yeah, of course!”

your face drains of color. 

because there was one problem: sunoo had several activities he volunteered for, no backouts allowed. 

and he was currently sick. with a stomach bug or something. 

you violently typed back to him telling him to cancel, but the freaking guy already told his band leaders that someone else would be there to fill in for him.

you slap a hand to your forehead. there’s no way you have to fill in for both you and your brother. there’s no way you can be two people tomorrow. 

well, it actually turns out that you can. after shoving the fake eyebrows, makeup, and clothes needed to transform appearances into your trusty bag, you make it. 

with a bonus, the dress from your mother that sunoo gets a friend to deliver to you. 

you meekly follow behind niki’s teammates as they enter the fair, tension high. 

you’re already sweating and the sun wasn’t even out yet. 

you jump when niki swings an arm around you. face burning, you can only nod when he says, “don’t worry and just have fun. the other guys will warm up to you real fast.” 

as kim sunoo, a guy hanging out with niki and his group, you realize you are doomed. 

the whole time the boys go on rides, play games and hang out, you’re checking the time. oh shoot, your eyes widen. you’re supposed to be at the dunking station right now. 

“crap, i gotta use the restroom. be back soon, sorry guys-!” 

you dash off without another word, leaving the team to exchange weird looks. 

you fly towards the nearest, nastiest, portable toilet. you’ve never gotten ready that fast in your life. wig off, makeup removed and reapplied, and annoying clothes sent by mother on. 

you run to your post, gasping. “hi, i’m here filling in for sunoo?” 

without a second of hesitation, you’re dragged into volunteer work. 

as soon as things get slow, you make an excuse to use the restroom. 

you bust out of the stall with sweat dripping down your face, probably ruining your makeup. coming to a screeching halt, you almost curse. you forgot to take your makeup off. 

exhaling, you walk out again. you’re pretty sure you got some weird looks coming out of the stall—appearance entirely different. 

“sunoo! there you are.” you catch up to the guys, acting normal as if you weren’t just a different person five minutes ago. 

“we were wondering what was taking so long. you okay?” the concern in niki’s eyes makes you glance away. 

“i think it was the burrito from yesterday…” 

not even thirty minutes later are you checking the time and making an excuse to go again.

“dang, was it really that bad?”

embarrassment fills your body at the thought that all the guys on one of the best soccer teams have to see you like this. were your chances ruined? 

“i’m super sorry but i really need to go-“

they watch as you scramble away. 

niki frowns, “sunoo’s not normally like this. i wonder if he’s okay.” 

and then you are you again. this time, wearing your dumb preppy outfit, handing out dumb fliers for the camp you weren’t even attending. the camp that you tried your hardest to avoid. 

you pull down your stiff, short skirt while handing out snacks and water bottles to people walking by. as you turn to grab more snacks, you hear the volunteers next to you begin to whisper. 

“i think they’re from the soccer camp. wow, isn’t he really tall?”

“—kinda cute?”

your eyes widen. no way, could they be talking about?

you turn and see, of course, niki and the rest of your group. 

all approaching the table you were currently standing out. beginning to freak out, you have second thoughts about running away again. you abruptly turn away, pretending to organize the snacks that needed no organizing. 

what if they recognize you? what if-

“hey.” 

you come back to your senses, seeing a shy niki—of all people—in front of you. 

you avoid eye contact, praying and hoping he doesn’t recognize you. nervously, you run a hand through your hair and give a bottle to him. 

“hi.” 

when your hand brushes against his, your breath hitches. you can certainly feel his dark orbs bore into yours. but he’s not letting go and neither are you. 

“thanks,” he says softly. you nod, trying to keep your gaze on the ground.

remembering where you are, you quickly snatch your hand back. but of course, your nerves get the best of you and cause you to knock into a pile of water bottles in the process. 

they all fall and you jump, startled at the noise. niki chuckles as you scramble to set it back up. 

of course, niki being niki has to help you set it back up. you can feel the tension in the air and it makes your hands tremble. 

as you reach for the last bottle, his hand lands on top of yours again.

eyes widening, you finally make eye contact. 

then his eyebrows furrow. shoot. 

“have we met before?” 

you begin to laugh nervously and clear your throat. you had gotten too used to speaking in a deeper voice to him. 

“m-me? i don’t think so.”

if anything, it feels like he stares deeper into your eyes, “you look really familiar. are you sure-?” 

you nod frantically. “i’m pretty sure we haven’t met before.” 

“oh, okay,” strands of hair fall into his eyes and you resist the urge to fix it, “i’m riki.”

“riki?” you voice aloud, and he laughs again. 

“yeah. are you gonna tell me yours or am i just gonna have to call you clumsy girl?” 

you say it, albeit hesitantly, but you being the idiot you were since day one, you tell him your full name. 

his eyes widen, “no way, are you—“ 

that’s when you know you messed up. 

“—kim sunoo’s sister?” 

you let out a painful laugh, “oh, that’s not-“

“that must be why you looked so familiar. you and your brother look really alike!” his reaction was so genuine that you’re actually embarrassed at how you laughed like a middle schooler. 

niki suddenly frowns, looking around. 

“you know, he was with us a few minutes ago but-“

you really need to get out of here before he finds out, you think as your heart pounds.

“if you’ll excuse me—“

but in your rush, you stumble in those dumb dress shoes the advisor told you to wear—that you were obviously not used to. 

you fling your arms out like a toddler trying to ice skate, and obviously, niki has to catch you in his arms like your personal prince charming. 

you stare at each other in utter silence and shock. 

“hi again?” he whispers and you suppress a smile at his utter adorableness. 

“sorry?”

niki’s arms stay wrapped around you until you clear your throat. 

“um, you can let go of me now.”

he laughs sheepishly, “yeah. o-of course, my bad.”

for a minute or two while gathering yourselves, brushing off imaginary dust, you’re not sure what to do. the butterflies in your stomach weren’t making it any better. 

“are you working here the whole time? cause like, when your shift ends, maybe we could like-?”

your eyes widen. they flick to his friends drilling holes at the two of you, some laughing and obviously hyping niki up behind his back. and then to the other volunteers eyeing you in jealousy or frustration that you weren’t doing your job, you’re not sure. 

all while you try your best to avoid jungwon’s squinty gaze. there’s no way… right?

“are you from around here?”

you softly laugh, “no, i’m here just volunteering…”

you don’t like how happy and light you feel while talking to niki, finally able to be with him him as truly yourself. 

but there’s that sinking feeling in your stomach that you try to push away. dread. like you’re going to get caught, or maybe you already were. 

you’re having such a good time just talking together that you forget about sunoo until niki brings him up again. 

“i swear your brother was with us earlier. he said he went to the restroom but i don’t know..”

you feel the light feeling fall flat, the floating you smack the concrete hard. this was reality—you had limited time with niki. 

you frown, acting all concerned. you were getting too good at that. “oh really? maybe i should go find and check on him.” 

niki starts, “i can go with you—“

“no!” you shout, before laughing hastily. 

“it’s okay. i’ll find him and come back. plus, i still have to volunteer. if i don’t, then it’s probably because i have to go back to camp…”

you see his face fall a little as he nods. “yeah, of course.” 

biting your lip, you make an impulsive decision. 

you kiss him on the cheek. 

“i’ll see you sometime?” you smile before dashing off to change. 

niki can only stares at you until he loses you in the crowd, touching the place on his cheek that you pressed your soft lips to. 

only for you to change and go back out as kim sunoo again. 

it’s not hard for you to find the group again, still in the same location. most of the guys were crowded around niki. which you expected, of course, but kim sunoo would never know that since he just came back from the restroom. 

“what’s going on?” 

all the guys, with matching grins and smirks, immediately disperse, leaving only a flustered niki. 

“niki?”

it’s hard to pretend like nothing just happened, seeing niki’s reaction made you realize just how affected you were too. 

“n-nothing. we can talk about it later.” 

you want to feel a bit hurt that he simply brushes it off, but you can feel how flushed your face is. to the point that you can’t even hold eye contact with niki for more than two seconds. 

“alright. you better keep me on that promise. let’s get back to the group.” 

you internally chide yourself for being so awkward. 

you needed to get a hold of yourself before something went wrong.

you barely slept. the dark under eye bags you sported were evident proof. you were too nervous for team decisions. 

all the fears and doubts came back. you weren’t good enough. after all, you had spent most of your life playing soccer as a hobby, never properly recognized or given the chance for more serious training. 

even more so, you weren’t even allowed at this camp. what if they found out and kicked you entirely from the camp? 

perhaps your constant shuffling in bed caused niki to wake up. 

“sunoo. why aren’t you sleeping? tomorrow’s a big day.”

you almost jolt. “sorry, did i wake you?”

“never mind that. just answer the question.” 

you gulp at his firm tone. and so you voice your fears, insecurities, and weaknesses to niki. someone and something you would have never expected doing, but you would never regret. or forget. 

“sunoo.”

“i know i probably sound dumb, and i’m being a bit irrational. or a lot,” you ramble on. 

“sunoo.” 

you sigh. “yeah?”

“relax. i think you’ll be more than fine. maybe you couldn’t tell but everyone else could—we could see your immense improvement. and more importantly, your passion and drive. you worked so hard for this. there’s nothing for you to be scared of and you know it. we all do.” 

for a minute, you’re stunned. his words hit deeper than you thought. all of the stress and anxiety, both mentally and physically, drops on you all at once. 

his next words are what get you. 

“i’m proud of you.” 

“thank you, riki. that means a lot. like, a lot.” 

and whether he heard your quiet sniffles or not, he says nothing.

before you know it, it’s morning. and before you know it, all the guys are lined up in front of the coaches. the already assigned teams get into their groups, having been on the same team for years while attending the camp. while the newbies, including you, stand off to the other side. 

you see niki nod at you encouragingly before moving to the other side of the field. 

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. weeks had gone by, and after this day, another week would go by. the only difference would be that you would be on a team. hopefully: niki’s team. 

you didn’t even realize when it was your turn. one of the coaches turns to you with his clipboard. 

“kim. you’ve improved—immensely.” 

you’re not sure if you should take it as a compliment or insult, but you nod anyways. 

“that’s why we all decided you’re a good fit for enhypen.” 

it doesn’t hit you at first. but as the boys cheer, and you see niki with a bright smile welcoming you, your mouth drops. 

you run towards the group, arms wide open to engulf you. in your happiness you run straight into niki’s arms, causing him to let out a big oof!

the other teammates surround you two. not only you but park sunghoon and lee heeseung made it to enhypen. 

you couldn’t believe you made it. everyone else believed you were good enough to be on their team. 

niki believed. 

after they released you, calming down as the coaches finished assigning the rest of the players, you feel someone ruffle your hair. 

startled, you look up to see niki with a proud grin. it makes your heart skip a beat. “congrats,” he whispers and you nod bashfully. 

“thanks again,” you stare up at him. it was too easy to get lost into his eyes. his dark gaze always seemed to engulf you. now, and especially at the fair. 

you realize you may have been staring at each other too long when you hear clapping and cheering. they were done assigning teams. 

you both look away while niki coughs and you swallow thickly. 

that night, you can feel something different in the air. whether it was your acknowledgment of your (quite) obvious feelings for niki or something he was keeping from you, you weren’t sure. 

all you knew was you couldn’t get him off your mind after that day at the fair. you had already thought about him quite often, but niki now entered your dreams, your point of vision much more than you liked. 

especially since you were still supposed to be getting him with minji.

but it was so easy to ignore, to prevent. specifically when niki says he has something to tell you as you both get in bed. 

“well, you see- i actually- uh,” he fumbles for words and you furrow your brows. 

why was he so nervous? what was so important that he had to tell you?

“what is it?” you interrupt him impatiently. 

“i-i might’ve met your sister. the other day at, at the fair.” 

oh. oh. that’s right. you weren’t supposed to know. since you were “gone” when niki met your sister- when niki met the real you.

and he was telling you right now as if you didn’t know anything. because you aren’t supposed to know anything. 

“and, uh, she was nice. really nice. like i was surprised because i didn’t think she would be like that but uh, you know. also she looks a lot like you to the point i almost thought she was you for a sec-“

“niki. what are you trying to say?” you keep your tone nonchalant, but internally you were freaking out. 

really, what was he trying to say?

you hear a lot of rustling from his side of the room. “oh-uh, nothing. she’s cool. yeah. so like, i don’t really think about minji that much anymore?”

you must’ve blanked out for a tiny bit because you come back to niki saying 

“-you feel me?”

you clear your throat, “uh totally, man.” 

all you remember is him mentioning he wasn’t that interested in minji anymore. your eyes bulge as you sit up in bed. 

“wait, wait, wait. you’re not into minji anymore? what—why?”

“i dunno, i just find myself thinking about other things..” 

there’s no way. you’re mystified. could that mean? 

“you’re saying you’re moving on? to me-my sister?” 

“huh? wha-“ he laughs awkwardly. “i didn’t say that!” 

“no, this is a good thing! that you’re getting over her,” you say a little too eagerly, so you then clear your throat, “i mean, i guess. i just think you deserve someone better than minji.” 

niki nods although you can’t see, keeping your thoughts in mind. 

the joint conditioning between the soccer and lacrosse players were coming to an end, to your relief (and minji’s disappointment). 

“aww,” she pouts during one afternoon break, “i’m gonna miss you a lot, sunoo.”

“yeah, you were a good partner.” you smile weakly. as you leave to get more water, she frowns. 

there was no way you weren’t picking up on her signals. she wonders if she could get closer to you by asking your friends. the only person she saw around you the most-?

that’s right, nishimura riki. 

you didn't expected to be attacked by niki on the way back to the dorms. he completely forgets how much smaller and lighter you were than he imagined. his hands find their way onto your shoulders forcefully so you’re forced to make eye contact. 

your wide eyes meet his eager ones. 

“sunoo-! you won’t believe what just happened! i actually can’t believe it, is this even real?!”

“huh.” 

he lets go, to your relief. he jumps around, full of energy even though you just had a five hour practice? 

“man, i just can’t believe it still. kim minji talked to me- like to me personally!” 

he brings a hand to his forehead. 

“she knows i exist. she smiled at me.”

you can’t help the disappointment that fills you from bottom to too. 

“what? but what about the whole, you know, getting over her plan?” 

you don’t even try to hide the dismay in your voice. 

niki jumps up and down, “but minji! she finally talked to me!” 

you try your best (half heartedly) to not seem upset. but you had gotten your hopes up. maybe, just maybe, niki would be interested in you. but how could he be? 

how could he when he didn’t even know who you were? 

and how could it be minji when she didn’t even bat her eyes at him before? 

a/n ▸ sorry for being mia but here's the next part <33 let the drama begin hehe

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee

@kflixnet

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @lwavander @eumpapas @eloelooo @shoyotime @heatrache @harufluff @kjrcrz @kpopstanmeg @luvkpopp @yunicide @nunugget @kyanmeai @enhastolemyheart @j-wyoung @imhuh @yinviyang @enhawinnieee @suvgs @zhounauts @123-678h @rshmra @they2luv1naia @hoodiebangtan @bachiwrld @lprww @riskiriki @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @k25vi @yeonism @nikisgfff @sha-aesthic @flmtunes @minhosprettywife @sungookie @woncine

@heartbreakrikiversary

unable to tag ▸ @dolphinsswimming @b1ndignity

send an ask/message to be added to the taglist ^^

[jben073]

Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!

Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D

(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])

When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)

^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.) 

^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)

^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.

Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.

^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).

She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.

^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!

She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.

^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)

She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.

^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!

^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.

She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(

^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!

^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.

^ They're in love to me!!!

LIB related

(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.) 

^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.

^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.

^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)

After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.

^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).

^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!

She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)

^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3

One more silly one to end on

She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety. 

^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.

Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3

edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!

also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).

[miukki960]

Okay, so I just finished Love for Love's Sake and..... I have so many thoughts. I could wax poetic for hours about how much I loved the show, but right now what I really want to talk about is my theory on the ending and the whole concept of the "game."

Please bare with me as I don't make posts like this (or any at all for that matter) often. Please forgive me if it's incoherent, my thoughts tend to run faster than my fingers can type lol.

Here we go!

First, who is the author sunbae? I think he's the embodiment of death. When Myungha wished on the shooting star for 1. Someone to care for him and love him and 2. To disappear,he was wearing what I'm pretty sure is the same outfit as when we first see him in the bar back in episode 1. This leads me to believe Death heard his wish, so when Myungha decides to end his life and regrets his decision in the last moment, Death decides to give him a chance to change his fate.

So he creates the "game" based on a novel he supposedly wrote. I believe this is a false memory he gives to Myungha so he will willingly play the game and try to change his fate. Which leads me to my second point...

Myungha is the author. The show did a very good job at keeping this subtle at the beginning. We as an audience are led to believe he is simply transported into the videogmae world and is at the mercy of the dating sim, but they show us multiple times that that's not the case.

Once, when Myungha mentions that the missions are written in his handwriting, a second time when we get a flashback of him actually writing these missions in a notebook at the bar, and a final time when we see him pen the shows Ultimate Mission using the Author's Pen, "Please make Cha Yeowoon Happy."

I started to get the idea that Myungha was the author back in the first few episodes when we started to see the side missions. Every mission he got screamed to me "this mission is actually for you, not Yeowoon." What was the first thing he did when he was supposed to get Yeowoon more friends? He befriended Kyunghoon himself. Save 3,000,000 won? For himself. Get Yeowoon followers? Using HIS Instagram. Which leads to point number three....

The game Myungha is sent to is actually a reenactment of his senior year of high school. All the characters he meets are actual people in his earlier life, his grandma, Kyunghoon, Sangwon. But in his original "playthrough" he didn't bother to befriend or interact with them, so they went about their lives unaffected, and he forgot they existed. I say all this with the exception of Cha Yeowoon.

Cha Yeowoon is a mirrored reflection of Myungha created by Death and inserted into the game. Myungha said himself at the beginning that Yeowoon was his favorite character because he reminds him of himself. Later on, we learn that their backgrounds are almost identical too. Yeowoon lost his mother, has an absent runaway father, and was raised by his grandmother. Myungha has a dead father, absent runaway mother, and is being raised by his grandmother. So at the beginning when Death asks Myungha if he will change Yeowoon's fate and rewrite his story, he's really talking about Myungha.

Adding to this, I also noticed something rather spectacular narratively in the second half of the show. The whole show, we watched Myungha try and (mostly) succeed at making Yeowoon happy. But suddenly I realized, as we watched him get happier and happier, Myungha was falling deeper and deeper into a sadness rivaling how we saw Yeowoon in the beginning. We stopped seeing the calculations of Yeowoon's affection level, and instead saw error messages and system malfunctions, representing Myungha's emotional state.

Which begs the ultimate question on everyone's minds to be answered. If the whole point of sending Myungha back to his 19yo self and giving him Yeowoon was to get him to love himself and be happy, why were the system malfunctions so devastatingly awful and cruel? Answer: because Myungha is the author, and he's depressed and self-destructive.

He begins to feel happy with the changes he's made, he sees Yeowoon happier and he feels like he's succeeding, yet the countdown message to his death still appears. It's ominous and impending and a constant reminder that he's failing. So as the author, he tries to revert back to factory settings by getting rid of the major changes to his life, Yeowoon and his grandmother. The two people who love him most, and the two people he thinks he deserves the least.

Sangwon said it the best. Myungha's main issue is that he refuses to receive love, both from others and himself. Which is why he fails the game and dies a second time. He followed the missions for Yeowoon and refused to let them break down his own walls like they were ment to.

But Death does see the change in him through Yeowoon. Being Myungha's mirror, Yeowoon represents the change that was supposed to happen to Myungha. So when Myungha (the him he hates) deletes himself in order to make Yeowoon (the him he loves) happy ("please make Cha Yeowoon happy"), Yeowoon is able to go full-meta, breaking through the game and rewriting the mission to "Please make Tae Myungha happy."

Thus saving Myungha and allowing him a third chance at a happy life, where he receives just as much love as he gives.

Don't ask me about the "he comes back disjointed from Yeowoon's timeline" thing bc I don't understand it narratively but it sure does make for a visually pleasing ending.

[voxmortuus]

Hi baby. 💖

May I please have something small with Ray Marcus and a spitting kink? Smut is optional.

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Ray Marcus x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Nocturnal Animals ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 1.7k ✧*̥˚ SONG INSPO: *̥˚✧ EAT SPIT! - Slush Puppy, Royal & The Serpent ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ How can I do a spit kink and NOT give you smut?! | Do you want that with a plot? No? So What Plot? | Spit Kink | Dominant Ray | Submissive Reader | Ray challenging his nameless friend | Maybe slight degradation | Dirty Smutty Time Talk | Fingering | Biting what's rightfully his | Hickeys on what's rightfully his | Marking what's rightfully his | Maybe use phrases that are used in a way to objectify you... lets face it, you want this man to use you | Multiple Orgasm because you were a good girl... you get more than one | Oral Male Receiving because you worship this man and his... magic stick | Mention of a joint | Unprotected P-in-V | Swallowing because remember, you're a good girl. | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I'm glad I know you and your likes! ✧*̥˚ IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TAGLIST FOR R.M.: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @f4irylid @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

Fuckin hell, what was it about this man? What was it that captured your attention? Was it the fact that he wasn't some sort of suit and tie? Rough around the edges? Was it the fact that he made you feel dirty in all the right ways? He wasn't like the others you've been with. In fact, he was quite the opposite, and that's why this worked. He made you feel things the others couldn't. He knew how to give you what you wanted without even speaking a goddamned word. This. Man. Got. You. You didn't need to ask him, you didn't need to show him, he just got it. You worshipped the ground this man walked on, and you thanked every sunrise and every sunset that he was there.

You could go on and on as to how he made you feel, what he made you feel. You could talk about how his eyes were like the sky on a warm summer cloudless day, or how his hands were hot and warm and well used. Or how those same hands could do such bad things, but come back to you to do such good things. He was your guard dog, you depended on each other, you said jump, he'd jump, he said jump, you'd say how high. The kind of bond you two had, unlike anything else. It was those things you thought of as you gazed up looking at him all dewy between your legs ready for his treasure. That treasure only he knew you enjoyed oh so much.

Kneeling there as he bickered with a friend who felt like he was entitled over you, he wasn't having any of it. You knew your place, and he knew that you did. There was nothing to bicker over, chances are in his mind this friend had one too many things to drink and he was going to have to put him in his place. Or at least remind him to whom you belonged. Simple situation, right? In his mind it was, but in yours... oh man you wanted him to show this friend of his just where you belonged.

Feeling that aura off you he looked down at you and smirked. Before gazing back up he moved his hand to open your mouth, and with his eyes trained on his friend, he gathered that spit in the front of his mouth leaning over a bit he kept his eye contact on the other person as he let the slip from his lips as he held his hand on either side of your jaw keeping your mouth open. Watching him you feel this excitement bubble inside you. It was like all this time waiting on your knees on the kitchen floor was well worth it.

As that spit hit your tongue you closed your eyes and did a little happy wiggle. Happy girl was happy, but you felt like you wanted more. You knew better than to touch but fuckin hell you wanted to run your hands up his legs and undo his pants and make him happy with that your pretty mouth. When he was finished he kept his contact on his friend. Smiling you look over him.

"Thank you, Sir." You smile wide.

"That's my good little slut isn't it?" He asks as he picks you up and takes you to the couch and lays you down.

Oh you know exactly what's about to happen. And you were very much looking forward to it. "Yes. I'm your good slut aren't I Mister?" You muse.

He smirks and looks over you. "Damn straight you are." He looks back at his friend a moment. "Fuck off. Unless you wanna watch." He smirks.

It was a matter of moments before he was told to go fuck himself and slammed his front door and sped off. Here you were, alone with your perfect mister, and you couldn't be more excited about everything he's about to provide for you. Sitting you in his lap he takes your shirt off and tosses it to the side and smirks. Hiking your skirt up he presses his fingers against your bud and slips them straight past and finds how slick you are.

"Oh, a wet little whore you are huh?"

"Yes, Sir. All for you."

"Damn straight it's all for me." He smirked and plunged his fingers into you with nothing but ease.

Your velvet wet warm walls clench around his fingers as he uses that come hither motion against your sweet spot, his thumb softly rubs against your bud as he grips the back of your neck and pulls you close to him. His lips capture yours and his trail from your lips to your neck. Biting and sucking on your neck, leaving beautiful marks, a deep purple hickey on your neck. Marking what's his.

His fingers move a little quicker as your hips begin to grind against his fingers. His lips move back to yours and you open your mouth and he knew what you wanted, kissing you with a vigor he spits onto your mouth again as he slaps your cheek softly and moves to grip at your hair to hold you head back.

Your hips move a little quicker and he smirks. "That's it, use my fingers..." he muses.

Truthfully, it doesn't take long for you to come to, and when you do, you gripped his shoulders and let out a loud moan that bounced off the window behind you.

"That's a good girl... but you didn't ask first."

"I know, I'm sorry... you just felt so good... I'm sorry... I'll show you." you smirk and get off of him and move to kneel in front of him.

Reaching for his pants you undo them and pull him from his jeans and with great ease you slip him right to the back of your throat. Hearing his groan and his head fall back against the couch you smile in your eyes, happy to make him feel good.

Your head picks up the pace, while at the same time you use different angles, against your cheek, your tongue swirls, you bring him deep into your throat as you turn to focus on his length and his tip, stroking as you work him.

Groaning he grips at your head and forces your head down. Like an eager little thing you are you take more, you take that rough face fucking he's about to give you, but it's when you feel he's about to release you pick up your pace gripping and stroking harder and faster.

He holds your head in place as his hips thrust and that twitch in his cock and the coating of his thick slightly salty ribbons coat the inside of your mouth. Sucking on him as if you were sucking on your favorite lolly you milk him and smirk when you pull him from your mouth and look at him and swallow, nodding your head like you just took your daily dose of vitamins and wanted head pats.

He smiled and looked over you, and ran his finger over your chin. Sure, the couch was great, but he wanted more. Something a little more... open. Taking you to the bedroom, his pants falling to his lower hips he tries to not drop you as he carries you and tosses you onto the bed.

Stripping your skirt from your body he strips down and climbs into bed and hovers over you. Kissing on you, biting and nipping at your lips, you smirk, giggle and open your mouth again. As he hovers over you, he tilts his head and looks into your eyes and gives you just the treat you were wanting.

"Thank you." You smirk swallowing like the good girl you are.

As you thank him, he slips his hard cock between your wet lips and lets out a groan. With a gasp you dig your nails into his shoulders and press your head into the back of the pillow as your eyes flutter a bit, feeling every bit of him as you focus on the way he stretches you.

Your breathing becomes staggered, your mind becomes his, your body melds with his, your whole self becomes his over and over with every action.

As he presses deep into you with each hard thrust he growls.

"Such a good fleshlight you are. My little personal fuckdoll." He smirks as he whispers his sweet objectifying words against your lips.

Hearing his words causes you to moan louder, causes you to clench around his hard cock. Causes you to grind your hips against him because you're a good girl and want to provide pleasure for him just as much as he wants to use you for his own pleasure and deliver his own to his sweet girl.

"That's my pussy isn't it baby?"

"Yes, Sir."

"No one else fucks my pussy do they?"

"No, Sir. This pussy is all yours."

"Damn straight that pussy's mine. Such a good little thing you are." he praises.

The push and pull, the moans and snarls, the vulgarity between the two of you. It was intoxicating.

He picks up his pace a little more, driving his hips against yours, the sounds of sweaty flesh smacking against each other echoed like your moans echoed. He drove himself harder against you as you grind your hips against him for added stimulation. You feel yourself getting closer.

"Can... I... fuck. Can I cum, Sir? Please... fuck... I'm right there..."

"Cum for me sweet baby... cum on Sir's cock." He snarled.

Gripping at his shoulders you arch your back and you spread your hips a little wider and you feel this urge to push as hard as you can against his cock squeezing your walls at the same time as if coaxing his finish. With a loud moan and the throw of your head against the pillows you begin to shake and he gives you a much deserved finish of his own deep within you. His cock twitching giving you every last ribbon of reward you begin to giggle.

He looks over you and kisses you softly. "That's a good girl. Good job... Now roll us a joint, I'm going to go get us something to eat." He smirked.

[lady-embers]

Where does the Gwyn and Azriel ship come from?

For me, the Gwy/Az ships stems from a lot of things. From their banter to their interactions and how Sarah chooses to have Cassian and Nesta both noticing Azriel looking at Gwyn as well as the expressions Azriel has when he's not known to be so expressive with his emotions.

For instance, Cassian notices Azriel attention being fixed on Gwyn and looking at her with 'admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face' when she's about to cut the ribbon.

When Gwyn has let out a sound of pure excitement, Azriel turned from talking with other priestesses across the ring with his brows high.

After Gwyn says, "See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger" Azriel stares after her with brows high with amusement and then we have Nesta saying Azriel was the new ribbon in regards to him and Gwyn so she was paying attention to their interaction and making a pretty telling remark on it that hints at foreshadowing.

We have this banter/competitiveness between them:

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

Also, notice his shadows dancing around him during this scene? His shadows have a very distinct reactions to Gwyn. Something that can't be tied to any other character. His shadows are different with Gwyn and honestly I'd expect them to be if they are actually end up as mates/endgame. I wouldn't want them reacted to anyone else the same.

Plus, we have the similarities of them which I'll list here:

Both are competitive. We see that in ACOSF and the somewhat competition interactions between them.

Both have singing associated with them. Azriel revealed he does in fact sing in his bonus chapter and we know Gwyn sings herself. Also, there is this: "He could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang back in answer."

Both have competed in AND completed the Great Rite.

Both have intense trauma that was dealt at the hands of others. Azriel with his hands because of his brothers and Gwyn with her SA.

Both have spying associate with them. Azriel is the Night Court Spymaster and Gwyn displayed *actual* spy tendencies during the Great Rite with the monsters and waiting and watching them for days in a tree to eventually lead them to the Illyrian to help Nesta and Emerie.

Both have a preference for daggers. Azriel even gave Gwyn a private dagger lesson and Gwyn has been mentioned with daggers in ACOSF. More so than Elain, who gave truthteller back and never looked back and that was the ONLY point of connection between Azriel and Elain as Feyre thinks in her pretty picture of them.

Azriel has blue Siphons and Gwyn has a blue Invoking Stone.

Both deal with feelings of unworthiness. Azriel pretty much feels unworthy of love and Gwyn feels unworthy of wearing the stone.

And of course, we can't forget about the bonus chapter from Azriel POV where these take place:

"It's fine. I came to retrieve something I forgot." The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her.  The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.

"How was the party?" Her breathe curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. We have direct reference to his shadows calming with Gwyn as well as something restless settling in him. Something we can't tie to anyone else.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

And this is how it ends:

I also can't forget that at one point in the book it mentions how when Gwyn was cutting the ribbon, the world paused and there was a shift of one path to another and that was after the bonus chapter took place in ACOSF 👀