#i sound like i’m making weird snarling noises

[flecks-of-stardust]

me, at 2 am, testing out the /ç/ and /x/ phonemes that german has to myself:

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for resplendeo; Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing.

Batman pulls his cowl back up, because he’s Bruce Wayne and people would recognize him if he didn’t, and Billy flees as adult-ly as possible back to the meeting room. Everyone else is still there, including a very clearly tense Robin, and Billy has absolutely no idea what to say. 

“Um, so–” he tries to start, and Robin immediately bristles and draws himself up to his full height. 

“Silence!” he snaps, baring his teeth at him. “I want nothing to do with you. I have nothing to do with you.” 

“I mean, that’s not actually true?” Billy says, trying not to wince. “Like the soulmate thing is definitely a thing. If you don’t want me around, I understand, just first can I try to–” 

“I do not want you! You are superfluous!” Robin snarls, and, well, at least Billy knows why he’s picking the specific insults he’s picking this time. Though he doesn’t really know why Robin is so convinced of that even thinking that they’re familial soulmates. What’s wrong with having more family members? 

Like, ones who aren’t asshole uncles who’ll steal your inheritance and leave you homeless and destitute on the street just for kicks, he means. Obviously. 

Maybe Robin’s had an asshole uncle or two in his family. Billy can understand that. But also, like . . . that’s really not what’s happening here, so . . . he really needs to figure out how to, like, spin this or something. Or . . . something. 

“I would really like to talk to you first,” Billy says. “Like–just if you let me–” 

“No!” Robin snaps, clenching his fists as his shoulders stiffen. “You are unnecessary and I want nothing to do with you! I have a father, and he is neither dead nor derelict in his duties and I have no desire for–Father, I want nothing to do with him, don’t give me to some other–I am your son and I don’t want a different father!” 

“Oh,” Batman says quietly, and Billy cringes in guilt. Oh. Okay. 

He really, really didn’t mean to make Robin feel like his dad wouldn’t want him just because he had a soulmate. 

Shit. 

Batman opens his mouth and starts to say something, but the speed of Mercury and also guilt gets there first. 

“Please don’t freak out, I promise I’m not your dad,” Billy says with another cringe, half-covering his face with a hand, and Robin–pauses, and frowns.

“Wait, what?” Green Lantern says with a frown of his own. “You said you were the kid’s soulmate.” 

“I mean . . .” Billy winces, then drags his hand down his face. “I am? Just, uh–right, okay, so I maybe kind of joined the Justice League under pretenses that in a certain light might appear to be false and I am so sorry for how weird I have made . . . literally all of this, pretty much, pretty much everything ever? Also, um. Shazam.” 

The lightning hits in a blinding flash. Captain Marvel disappears. 

Everyone says absolutely nothing. A whole lot of nothing. 

Then Green Arrow falls out of his seat. 

“Marvel,” Flash says, just staring at Billy. “What the actual, literal, entire fuck.” 

“What the hell, Cap?!” Green Lantern yells. Billy, since he’s now not incapable of acting like a sassy little bastard with a heart of brass at best, just shrugs and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“Should you guys be swearing in front of the children like that?” he asks skeptically. Green Lantern makes a strangled noise. Green Arrow manages to fall out of his seat again without actually having successfully gotten back into it. 

“Is this your true form?” Wonder Woman asks, looking perplexed. Billy shrugs. Black Canary puts her face in her hands. 

“You–you are grounded, Mister,” she says. 

“No I’m not,” Billy says, making a face at her. “You can’t ground me, my parents are too dead for you to tell on me, and I’ll just Captain Marvel myself away if you try and stick me back in foster care. So there.”

Black Canary keeps her face in her hands and makes a very pained sound, for some reason. Superman looks very, very stressed out. 

Robin just tilts his head, looking much less upset than before. So that’s something, Billy figures. Like, that was what he was going for here, with ‘fessing up to this and all. He really was not intending to confess to this before Robin happened. 

“I see,” Robin says after a moment, narrowing his eyes assessingly as he looks Billy over. Billy resists the stupid urge to straighten his hoodie. “So you are a romantic soulmate to me, not a familial one. And you are also a nigh-unstoppable force of magic in possession of incredible godly powers.” 

“I . . . technically, I guess?” Billy says, not sure how to take that. 

“But you are also a literal twelve year-old,” Robin says, his eyes narrowing a little more. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Billy says with a grimace. Robin frowns. 

“I really don’t know how I feel about this,” he says.

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 1: 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

pairing(s): aeon/swiss words: 656

✿

He’s barely visible under the fuzzy gray blanket that’s pulled around his body. With his legs tucked up against his chest, fabric cocooned around him, he looks like a kit drowning in a terry cloth towel after a bath. Only Aeon’s round face, screwed up in concentration with the ends of his hoodie strings between his teeth, and knobby hands, plunking away at his new basic smartphone, are visible to Swiss. 

In simple terms, he’s too cute to handle. Swiss’ fingers itch to grab and poke, squish the cuteness right out of him. Aeon grumbles something about the tiny keyboard, big pointed ear twitching as he stabs at the screen, and the multi ghoul cannot stand it for another second. 

“Whatcha doin’, bug?” he calls from his chair opposite the couch. 

Aeon chirps, peeking up from the screen. His hair sticks up on top when he lifts his head. “Hm?”

Swiss is going to scream. “I said ‘whatcha doin’’?”

“Well,” he spits out the hoodie strings, shifting a bit. “I’m trying to figure out this . . . texting thing. But Dew keeps sending me funny little faces after I accidentally send him random letters. The keys are so small, how do you do this?”

“You’ll get it, just takes some time. At least you have smaller thumbs.” Swiss wiggles both of his in Aeon’s direction. “That’ll help.”

Aeon huffs, corners of his mouth turning down, lower lip sticking out; he pouts. He’s pouting. Why must Copia always summon the adorable ones? And why can Swiss just never keep his hands off of them?

The frown remains in place even as Swiss hops out of his seat and sits down beside the newbie quint. Swiss shakes his head and chuckles. “Why’re you so damn cute?”

Aeon side-eyes him. Scoffs a little and rolls his eyes. “Cute?” he accuses. 

“Have you seen yourself?”

“I mean, yeah, I look in the mirror everyday—”

“No,” Swiss laughs, “right now. With your blanket and your little phone and that pouty face.” The multi ghoul pokes him right in the cheek, emphasizing said frown. 

“You make me sound like a child,” Aeon grumbles and flinches away, sticking his tongue out as he locks his phone and shoves it into the couch cushions. He pulls the blanket even tighter around himself. But there’s a smile tugging at his lips, even as he continues to side-eye Swiss. 

Once again, he is going to scream. “You make me crazy,” he admits stupidly, shaking his head. “I just wanna,” he makes a vague grabby-hands motion, indicating his frustration, “ugh, I just wanna scrunch you up and put you in my pocket, baby.”

“Front pockets are preferable, please.” Aeon grins suddenly, showing off his fangs. 

Swiss blinks. Momentarily stunned to silence—an incredibly rare feat for this ghoul.

“You little—” He springs into action, leaning close and poking his thick fingers everywhere: his neck, behind his ears, the dimples in his cheeks. Aeon squawks in protest, but that does nothing to stop the onslaught. He growls playfully and grabs his cheeks, squishing and smushing and squeezing. 

“‘wiss,” the quint attempts to complain—keep it together, really—through pushed-together cheeks. “‘top, bhat’re you—”

“I’m sorry, but you’re too adorable to live,” Swiss explains. “Gotta stop you before you reach mach cuteness or everyone’ll die.” Aeon whines, removing his arms from the blanket to swat at him to no avail. Swiss is quick to release his cheeks, grabbing his wrists instead and pinning his arms to his chest. 

“Gah, what the fu—” Swiss cuts him off with a cross between a snarl, a growl, and a weird noise a disgruntled-slash-scared cat would make, completely dramatic and unserious, diving in to his neck open-mouthed so he can graze his skin with the front of his teeth repeatedly with fake bites. Aeon can only toss his head back and giggle ferociously and against his will. 

“Gonna eat you,” Swiss growls. “C’mere.”

“Why are you like this?!”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Teaching that jerk(I say lovingly) jealous King a lesson by riding his much more sweeter and cuter right-hand? uh Hell yes why would you think this is a bad idea???

Fhfg so there’s…a specific part I’m a little flustered with that I want to write that I’m going to keep a surprise, though done of y’all will be able to tell in the teaser imma about to drop…

I didn’t know if anyone would like it hhfgg I’m weird so it’s hard to tell, hope you enjoy!

(This is a teaser! I’m writing past the point he finds out it’s Foras!)

Cw: restraints, cucking, some cock slapping,

-It was a rare sight to see Leviathan so livid, yet, no one was hurt, quite the opposite actually.

While you sat in another person’s lap, right in front of you sat Leviathan, your partner. He was watching you ride a random (to him) demon while he’s left naked and tied up, unable to even touch himself as he watches you.

The demon with you was using Foras’ ability, he knew that, but he wasn’t certain if, it was in fact, his most trusted and loyal servant. He growled, baring his teeth at the thought.

If it wasn’t humiliating enough to be exposed to one of his minions like this, he didn’t even know which one it was.

He tried to stay quiet, even as the sound of the demons flesh slapping against yours, he tried to listen to any sound they make, thinking he could use it to identify them. He even closes his eyes to focus better, but right as he thinks he can hear their voice.

You must have noticed since you take advantage of the fact he cant see with his eyes closed, and land a harsh slap on his defenseless groin, getting lucky hit and hitting just below the base, getting his cock and balls.

“Ah! The h-hell was that for?” He groans, glaring at you as the throbbing between his legs got worse. He needed to cum, but he wanted to focus on the man penetrating you. After-all, it’s not like he could ask someone else about this.

As king, he refuses to go to his minions and ask ‘Do you know the demon that cucked me?’ Or anything along those lines.

His attention is once again pulled away from the other demon while you grab the base of his cock, squeezing it in an agonizingly tight grip.

Leviathan hates the pathetic moan he lets out, to his humiliation if it wasn’t for your hand saying there, he’d have cum from just a tight squeeze.

“Focus on the show, Levi.”

You teased him, to his horror his cock bobbed, letting all three of you see how much he enjoys this. To his surprise the other male demon whines, on instinct his attention is drawn to look where the man’s face would be (judging by the noise) and he realizes by your position…

You are letting the other demon lay his upper body on yours, chest to back…that demons weight is on you…

He snarls without noticing, getting caught off guard with another slap to his groin.

But you released the grip on his cock, Leviathan let out a surprised whine as he cums.

He looks at his cock in horror. Is he truly so depraved he just got off to being slapped, twice?

He threw his head back in frustration, thrusting forwards subconsciously.

He needs to kill the demon your with!

He cant let ANY of his subordinates see him like this!

As he’s throwing a mini tantrum. He suddenly stops, a thought clicking in his head. He looks begrudgingly between your legs.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Hungry Kisses and No Regrets

Decided to channel my stress into finally writing the Kiki/Namari fic. This is post-series, and has slight references to unofficially translated post series material.

Namari stared into her tankard, watching the beer’s foam drop down the sides. The tavern was full of lively chatter, loud toasts, whooping and yelling…normally she would be right in the thick of it. But right now it was all distant, muffled, nothing but a meaningless buzzing.

  Then a smooth voice cut through that noise. “You’ve had that booze for a whole minute and the glass is still full. Something must be wrong”.

   Kiki was towering over her. Namari turned slowly, her eyes traveling up those long, shapely legs, from the perfect curve of her calves all the way up to her well toned thighs. Namari’s breath hitched and the back of her neck heated up. She focused instead on Kiki’s face, like she should have done from the beginning, but that only made her heart race more. Kiki had her hair down, a rarity, and it fell in beautiful black coils, slightly wavy at the ends. Kiki looked down at her with bright warm eyes and a mischievous smirk (she’d probably noticed Namari checking out her legs). As always, it melted all of Namari’s defenses.

“I’m just…lost in thought.”

Kiki sat across from her, resting her chin on steepled hands. “Want to talk about it?”

Weirdly, she did. When it was with Kiki, she could talk about anything.

“It’s…Falin.”

Kiki raised her eyebrows. “Did she get turned into a monster again?”

“No! It’s…well,I told you now that my father’s debt is almost paid off, I want to strike out and set up a blacksmithing business right?”

Kiki nodded.

Namari took a small sip of beer and sighed.

“Well, Falin’s recovery is taking…longer than expected. She’s having a little bit of trouble adjusting to her new body. She doesn’t have a lot of stamina and gets exhausted easily, Marcille says she’s been restless at night, growling and snarling and having weird dreams. Even Marcille has a hard time shaking her out of them. I know Falin was planning to travel, to get to know her new self and see new places, and it must be so frustrating…so I don’t think I can leave until she gets better.”

Kiki wrinkled her brow. “Why? It doesn’t sound life threatening. She has her brother and Marcille taking care of her, right? And Chilchuck and Senshi are sticking around a bit longer too. I’m sure she’ll get well soon."

“I know, but… it’s hard to see Falin like this. She’s usually so warm and full of life, you know? She could make anyone feel better just by being there. It’s easy to see why Marcille and Shuro fell for her…”

Kiki’s eyes narrowed. Was that…jealousy?

“Not that I ever had any feelings for her, I’m just saying she’s always been so strong and kind,” Namari amended hastily. “So it’s hard to see her so listless. …And I feel like I should…well, if she can’t travel right now, I shouldn’t get to go gallivanting off somewhere.”

“You’re acting like you’re responsible for her. Are you feeling guilty about leaving?”

Kiki sure cut to the quick. "I don’t regret my choice," Namari said forcefully. "I did what I had to do. But.. I wonder sometimes. If I had been there, would they have been able to get to the dragon before it digested her? Would it have saved her from going through all that hell? Seeing what happened to her, how she’s struggling now, it rattled me. I wonder if she resents me."

Namari lowered her eyes, drawing a circle in the condensation on the table with her index finger. She couldn't look st Kiki. The last thing she wanted to see was her pity.

            “From the brief time I met her—and from how you all describe her—it doesn’t seem like she’d resent you.” Kiki’s voice was the same as ever, a ripple in a calm lake. Namari looked at her and saw her expression wasn’t pitying or annoyed. She just looked like she was mulling it all over.

            “No…none of them seen to resent me, even Marcille. But still…Falin knows I abandoned her. She might understand and accept it, but I wonder if it hurts her, deep down…” She trailed off. She new she was being pathetic she was being pathetic,

            Kiki studied Namari's face, her eyes searching

“Remember when Kaka and I told you about how our clan abandoned us at an inn when we were children?”

Namari blinked at the sudden topic change, but said, “Yes, of course”

            “Kaka resents them for that. But I don’t. I’m honestly grateful.”   

            “Huh?”  As always, Namari couldn’t figure out if Kiki was joking or not.

            Kiki’s mouth quirked and she tilted her head. A bit of hair fell over her eye in a way that made Namari's heart flutter.

            “I remembered how they looked, their cheeks hollowed, their eyes sunken. They were starving, yet they always tried to give Kaka and me a good meal. So I was grateful that they left us. If they hadn’t, I would have had to watch them suffer, watch them die. I hated being a burden.” Kiki’s smiled disappeared, and Namari saw her hands shake ever so slightly against the table. She wanted so badly to reach out and hold that hand, to tell her it was all okay. But she knew Kiki wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted.

            Kiki breathed in deeply. “But by leaving us at the inn, they gave us a chance. A chance for something better. Because they did that, I had a chance to meet Grandma and Grandpa. And that’s what I’m the most grateful for.” Her expression softened, the warmth returning to her face.

            Namari smiled. She loved how Kiki looked at even the darkest moments with love and empathy. It made her want to let go of her cynicism.

`           ”So,” Kika said, tossing her hair. “If Falin’s really the person you say she is, I’m sure she feels the same way. She’s grateful that you didn’t drown in debt for her sake, she’s grateful she didn’t didn't have to see you suffer and lose everything for her. She doesn’t want to be your burden.”

Namari’s eyes burned. Falin had said something like that—“I’m so glad you were able to find such a great party to work for, Namari. You seem so happy! And you helped my brother and the rest a lot, from what I hear! Thank you!"But Namari had been sure she was just forcing her real feelings down. But hearing it from Kiki…for some reason, that made her believe it.

“And also…” Kiki leaned forward, her face so close to Namari’s that her hot breath tickled Namari’s nose. “I’m personally very grateful you left the party. Because that’s how I got to meet you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Namari swallowed. She was sure her face was as red as a tomato. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her. It was time to say it.

“There’s actually another reason I’ve been procrastinating on leaving. It’s…because I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Kiki said casually. “I’ve decided to leave the family business and strike out on my own. And I’d love to travel with you.”

“You…what?’

“I’ve been thinking of it for a while and talking about it with the family. I told them all yesterday. I want to try new things, see what I can do on my own. Kaka’s going to stay with them, he’s never been interested leaving out grandparents. It’s going to be…really hard being separated from him. We’ve been together our whole lives. But I think that’s why I need to do this.I want to find out who I am without him. Take my own path. Grandpa and Grandma were very supportive. I’ll miss all of them, but it’s not like I can’t visit…”

All of this tumbled out of Kiki’s mouth in a rush, so it took a second for Namari to process it. But when she finally did, her heart burst with joy. Her face lit up with what she was sure was the dopiest smile, but she did her best to keep her voice even.

“Do you know what you want to do?”

“I did a short apprenticeship of a trading company when I was younger, and I loved meeting different people from all over, so maybe that. But one thing I really want to do is…be by your side at least a little bit longer.” She looked down nervously, eyelashes fluttering.

Namari reached out and took Kiki’s hand at last. It was soft and smooth, so much smaller than hers, but still strong. “I want that too,” Namari murmured. “And I also want to kiss you until you’re as dizzy as I am.”

At that invitation, Kiki threw herself across the table. She barely avoided knocking Namari’s beer over as she swung her legs around to sit on her lap. Namari put her arms around her, she bent down, and they kissed hungrily, ceaselessly, with bottomless desire. Kiki tugged at Namari's wrist and Namari gladly accepted the invitation, running her hand greedily up Kiki's thigh, feeling the strong muscle underneath, gripping it harder as their kiss deepened.

Whoops and cheers explored around them. When they finally separated, they saw several tavern patrons were watching them. And the table was a little wobbly. Oops.

“Let’s get out of here before we break something. We can do that in my bedroom instead.” Namari murmured.

“Sounds good. And if we stop by my house first, I can bring some leg pouches to put on in front of you,” Kiki teased.

“You really are the perfect woman,” Namari breathed, trembling with anticipation.

So they walked off arm and arm into the night, Namari leaving behind her worries and fears. There was no point in looking back anymore. She and Kiki had just started a new journey together.

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day thirty-six) (part one) (bonus)

hello my lovely cherry blossoms <3 as promised, i’ve decided to write this particular part from katsuki’s perspective :) i do keep my (y/n) pretty feminine, so i will be writing this with she/her pronouns. however, if you do go by other pronouns, please just message me, and i will gladly repost it with your desired pronouns!

katsuki, despite what the public said about him, was a very cautious person. each punch, each explosion when fighting a villain was planned and executed with deadly detail and precision, which is part of why he’d risen through the ranks so quickly to become the youngest number one hero in the history of japan. this meant that in almost every situation, katsuki knew what he had to do.

almost.

when katsuki had realized that he liked you— in a more-than-a-friend way— he had no idea what to do. he tried to act normal, which for the most part was pretty easy. however, there were some moments— like when you were acting all awkward for those couple days— where he couldn’t help but feel concerned.

you’d been weird for the past day and a half, too. you kept glancing out the window and at your one coworker’s weird ass boyfriend. your coworker wasn’t even there, why would he be there? katsuki doubted that the man was actually your coworker’s boyfriend. and even if he was, he was a shitty, creepy-ass boyfriend.

katsuki knew you thought he didn’t notice, but he was a hero; he’s trained to notice. he noticed the way your eyes had barely noticeable bags under them. the way you looked around more often. the way you seemed distracted. more distant. it pissed him off because he couldn’t get himself to confront you— even though he never had any trouble doing it before. he just couldn’t explain it.

katsuki was also pretty damn annoyed when some dumbfuck secretary of his had scheduled his patrol in such a stupid way. he had to leave you and the shop abruptly so he could start when he needed to; after all, katsuki was a stickler for schedules. so, he was not at all opposed when you called him during patrol. but you didn’t need to know that.

katsuki glanced in the direction of the noise as he heard his phone ring. clicking his tongue, he took off one of his heavily padded gloves and shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“i’m on patrol, make it quick, dumbass.” he grunted. he heard shuffling, like something on the sidewalk. not shoes— something softer. fabric? in the background of the call, he heard footsteps, too. weird.

“flower house—“ came your voice, and katsuki was immediately on high alert. you sounded like you were terrified, and out of breath. your voice rose to a shrill cry as you gasped out, “flower- flower house— no!” katsuki watched the screen as the call disconnected, and that’s when it all clicked.

something was wrong.

flower house. that was what you’d called that obnoxiously painted house on the corner, the one you’d pointed out when he was illustrating the streets he’d take every day to you early in your friendship— the one right up ahead on his patrol route.

katsuki immediately picked up the pace.

this was not gonna slide. fuck no.

katsuki found himself getting impatient with his damn legs, despite the fact that he was running. katsuki leaped, and immediately blew himself into the air.

katsuki caught a visual on you almost immediately. there was some loser moving towards you. you were on the ground. this wasn’t going to slide, no way in hell. as soon as he was close enough, he dropped down behind the asshole, stalking towards him. katsuki’s hands sparked involuntarily, something that hadn’t happened in years due to meticulous training to gain the most precise control over his quirk possible. katsuki didn’t mind. he knew he looked scary; that was the whole point of his costume design. he knew that his size contributed damn well to his cause: easily over 6 feet and well over 200 lbs of pure muscle.

“absolutely not.” katsuki snarled, his eyes dead focused on the man. dead like this guy was going to be in a matter of minutes. “absolutely the fuck not.” the guy tried to babble out some shitty excuse, but katsuki didn’t care. you were clearly not familiar with this guy, and you very clearly didn’t like the situation you were in. then he tried to touch you. there was no way katsuki was letting that happen.

katsuki was by your side as soon as the man’s hand moved to grab your wrist.

“i said,” katsuki repeated, lower, slower. “absolutely. the fuck. not.” the man’s nose twitched. disdain. under all that cowardice, this asshole still had the nerve to think lowly of him.

that’s when katsuki snapped. his infamous right hook got the guy right in the face. katsuki heard a crunch. katsuki might’ve broken his nose, but who cared? he was down, and it felt good.

katsuki pulled out quirk suppressors from his belt and secured them around the guy’s wrists, all but satisfied, but knowing they any more might end up badly; an abuse of power. so, katsuki focused on you. he forced himself to relax, letting his lungs take on deep breaths of the night air, and making sure the snarl he knew was there was wiped off his face so you wouldn’t be so scared when he turned to look at you. katsuki popped a squat, immediately looking for signs of head trauma. you seemed alright.

“oi. you call the police yet?” katsuki grunted. you shook your head and pointed at a shattered phone on the sidewalk next to you. your phone. he’d have to buy you a new one sometime.

“tch.” katsuki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. isn’t that the first thing civilians do? call for help? so, what gives? “that explains it.” katsuki stood back up so he could call them himself.

“just gimme a second, sweetheart, ‘m gonna call the police for ya.” katsuki reassured you. he didn’t know why he called you sweetheart, but it felt remarkably comfortable given the situation. he’s content with your nod and dials the hotline, listening to their usual spiel before speaking.

“it’s dynamight.” katsuki stated.

“ah, dynamight, sir. do you need assistance in cleanup?”

“yeah.”

“do you require backup?”

“no, civilian almost got attacked by some fuckwad-“ katsuki gets interrupted. asshole.

“sir, we ask that you use professional language whilst on call. please refer to the ‘fuckwad’ as a civilian, similar to the victim..”

“no, i'm not gonna refer to him as a civilian too, he's a goddamn asshole.” katsuki snapped, already losing his patience with this lady.

“sir, it’s imperative that we use professional terminology so that—“

“goddammit, will you shut the hell up and send some damn police?” katsuki groaned. “someone's gotta take this fuck away, i can't do it right now, i got shit to do.”

“yes, dynamight, but please take into consideration what has been said.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. fuck you. you got my location or what?”

“yes, we do,” said the dispatcher slightly irritably. tch. if she was getting irritated by this, then they need to get a new dispatcher. “we’ll have the police to you shortly.”

"yeah, okay."

“is the victim alright?”

"yeah, she's fine, just some scrapes from fallin’.”

“so there is not a need for emergency medical services, is that correct?”

"yeah."

“alright. we will have the police with you in upwards to fifteen minutes.”

"yeah, okay." katsuki hung up, then turned back to you, crouching down on the pavement.

“can ya stand up?” katsuki asked, then frowned. you were crying. it just have just begun to set in. “…you’re crying.” you bring a hand to your face, feeling your cheeks for tears blankly.

“oh.” you murmur, your voice cracking slightly. “i can stand up.” you brace yourself on the sidewalk and move to stand up, and you pretty much succeed, but then you collapse almost immediately before you do. katsuki instantly caught you, his hands fitting securely on your waist. his hands. your waist.

fuck.

katsuki immediately shook away the feeling. this was absolutely not the time for this shit.

“hey, easy.” katsuki warned. he figured you were in shock. just to confirm, he eased you down back onto the ground, nice and close to him, and slid his thick, padded gloves off his hands. he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before holding your face. dilated pupils. definitely in shock. katsuki told himself that checking for shock was indeed the only reason he was holding your face like that.

“you’re in shock, dumbass,” katsuki told you. “don’t move yet.”

“okay,” you agree easily, then turn your head slightly to look at the man. you shudder and look back at katsuki, mortified. your breathing quickens and quickens. katsuki’s frown deepens.

“can ya breathe f’me?” katsuki did his best to ground you. “c’mon, deep breaths.”

you nod, and you slowly start to match the pace katsuki had set with his own breathing pattern.

katsuki and you continued to breathe together as the cops arrived. finally. katsuki easily lifted you up, telling himself that the hand he kept on your back was so he could continue to monitor your breathing as he talked to them.

god, he was selfish.

regardless, though, you seemed to like it, so he didn’t stop, even after the cops left.

"you gonna tell me what happened?" he asked finally, seeing that you seemed to be recovering a little bit, at least from the initial shock. he began to walk towards his agency, figuring he’d have to do the report, or at least tell one of those shitty sidekicks to do it.

"yeah." you answered, your voice scratchy as hell. you pause for a moment, then tell him probably the shittiest explanation he’d ever heard for an assault. "he'd been stalking me for days. then i confronted him then ran. he chased me. that's it.”

stalking.

he’d been stalking you.

katsuki was going to murder that man.

but not yet. right now, you needed him. and he couldn’t get angry right now because another pissed off guy is not what you need.

“stalking?” katsuki asked, his voice trembling with fury despite his attempts to keep it level. “why didn’t you tell me? that asshole's being arrested for attempted assault. stalking's a whole other charge to be added." you shrug. katsuki just didn’t get it. didn’t you want the guy to get locked up for as long as he could? katsuki took a deep breath to calm himself.

"well, whatever." he grumbled. "listen... you probably don't wanna be alone tonight, do you? lotta people don't after this kind of thing." you shook your head. katsuki had figured that would be the answer.

“you want me to call up pinky?” katsuki asked as he walked, dry leaves crunching under his boots. “she’ll let you crash if you—“

“you.” you interrupted. katsuki stopped and tensed. were you saying what he thought you were saying?

“…you wanna crash at my place.” he confirmed. you nod.

“if i can.” you add, almost silently. katsuki considered. there wasn’t anything that would prevent you from doing so. katsuki exhaled slowly, trying to calm his pounding heart (and head).

“yeah,” katsuki said, trying to feign nonchalance as he continued walking. “whatever, dumbass. you need to get anything from my place?”

“no.” bullshit. you had nothing but the clothes on your back and a smashed phone. katsuki looked at you skeptically.

guess she’ll just borrow my shit, katsuki concluded. he bet you’d look cute in his shirt. he knew exactly which one he’d loan to you if you asked.

goddammit. katsuki cursed. what the fuck am i doing? acting like this when she’s probably just been fucking traumatized.

what an asshole.

katsuki stopped in his tracks. you know what? fuck the report. he was gonna prove to himself that he’s doing this because he fucking cares about you, not just because he likes you or whatever.

“i’m gonna blast us back, got it?” katsuki looked up, surveying the sky. nice and clear. katsuki shifted you to one arm easily, feeling you adjust your grip on him. “it’s gonna be loud, so cover your damn ears. ready?”

“you.”

(feel free to comment + lmk what you think :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity @jazzafayesworld @failingstudents-blog @stevenknightmarc @faerikitty @deathsmajestysworld

[sawyerquinnbrown]

My neighbor upstairs runs an Airbnb out of his apartment, which has led to many interesting and exciting situations for me. Well, I say ‘exciting’, mostly I mean ‘inconvenient’ and sometimes ‘hilarious.’

Last month I discovered that, while I on the ground floor have a one-bedroom with a tiny office, my upstairs neighbor has 4 bedrooms on two floors that he rents by himself for about a billion US dollars, so it makes perfect sense that he would run an Airbnb, to recoup some of his costs. I imagine it takes a strength of character when you live in an Airbnb, because personally, I don’t want people in my house. That’s why I moved to my own place at 36; I’d had enough. My only roommates now are two very attractive and high-quality felines, who will be introduced in more detail in a later blog post.

Anyway, the Airbnb. The first thing I noticed once this started was that I was constantly jumping whenever someone was coming through the front gate and tromping up the stairs, which was frequent. This is due to my anticipation of my many online purchases. (I purchase many things online because 1) it’s fun to receive things in the mail and 2) I don’t like to leave my house—there’s weather out there, and also bugs.) So: many comings and goings and creakings of the gate.

The second thing I noticed occurred one day when I heard some rattling outside my door. That’s odd, I thought, I’m not expecting any guests. Actually, my thought process was more like Aaaaaa, someone’s trying to break into my apartment! (My upstairs neighbor had been robbed a couple months prior, so this was a totally rational and normal and not-overreactive thing to panic about.) I am Extremely Brave™ (No.), so I went to the door and opened it to discover a hapless traveler with a large rolling suitcase attempting to open the lockbox I hung outside my door. Much relieved, I informed the traveler that the lockbox he was looking for was upstairs.

(Sidenote about the lockbox: I hung it up shortly after moving in because of the time I locked myself out. I was trying this cool thing called “Carrying stuff in my pockets like a dude” due to extreme gender dysphoria, and I left my keys inside my apartment. My landlord was kind enough to charge me $25 to unlock my door, and I ordered the lockbox as soon as I got inside. $25! ::snarling noises::)

The third point of excitement occurred late one night when a knock came at my door around 11:30pm. At the door stood an older butch woman who had run into the same problem as I had: she’d locked her keys inside the apartment, in this case the Airbnb. Unable to get in contact with my neighbor, she was trapped outside. I volunteered to text him and in exchange she offered me a beer. I feel guilty about not offering to let her kip on my air mattress, but, as previously stated, I don’t like to have people in my house.

Finally we come to the real issue of neighboring an Airbnb: too-generous guests. This sounds counterintuitive, so let me explain. As I mentioned, I like to receive packages in the mail so I can open presents I ordered for myself. However, due to Chicago being weird (in my experience as a former Bostonian), my ground floor apartment being a “1” and the upstairs apartment being a “2” is apparently unusual. Typically, I’ve been told, “1” is upstairs. So despite the very clear and large numeral “2” on my neighbor’s mailbox, everyone likes to deliver my stuff up the stairs. The too-nice Airbnb-ers see these packages and say to themselves, Aha! A package for my host! and without checking the name on the package, helpfully carry them inside and lock the door. I am left bereft, knowing my package has arrived but unable to access, for instance, a box of lightbulbs (listen, I know. Adults get excited about the weirdest things).

If you liked this post, please check out my Wordpress blog or buy me a Ko-fi!

[autisticgaledekarios]

Zhongli x GN!Reader

Zhongli x fae!reader,fluff bc fuck sad,I have never wrote on tumblr before and it shows,also the reader is a púca (fae shapeshifters) bc I said so,also tw for a small mention of an animal corpse on the second paragraph,mentions of a house fire that you might have indirectly caused

Word count:1329

A small humming noise rung throughout the cliff face, easy to miss by the way it blended in with the usual cluster of sounds. Whether it be waves crashing against the rocks, faraway shouts of the war, or the sounds of two crows squabbling over their next meal. But it was undoubtedly there, and Morax wasn’t happy about it. It had been going on for two hours now, and didn’t show any signs of stopping. They were in the middle of a war, and Osial had just been defeated. Most other gods were terrified of him by this point, scratch that, most other beings were terrified of him. Why did this creature keep bothering him? Did they find it funny?

He pushed himself off of the ground, determined to try and find the source of the song, it didn’t seem to be coming from a specific place, more of a blanket covering the area in silken music. Which, in Morax’s opinion, made it so much worse. How could he track this person down if he couldn’t even see them? He groaned, rubbing his temple as the two crows arguing got louder, they were both screeching at each other over some carrion.

“Oh come on you two— what did I say about arguing” He turned in surprise as the humming stopped, and a person came barrelling out of the bushes. Stopping to pick up both crows. “Where are your manners? I thought you would have known by the amount of times I have to keep telling you” the stranger continued, and the more Morax looked at them, the stranger they seemed. They had pointed ears, and a soft pinkish glow to them, not to mention the animal aspects they had. But, he was used to seeing people like that. This person was a new type of weird.

He glared at them, pulling out his polearm in warning. And they suddenly perked up, staring directly back at him. They looked…shocked? That wasn’t the right word… they definitely hadn’t meant to be seen, as they stood in front of him with their mouth slightly agape. Before absolutely bolting into the woods again, much to Morax’s surprsie, and distaste. With a sigh, he tapped his spear onto the ground, watching as the faerie ran directly into a stone pillar. He walked over to them, raising an eyebrow as they cursed in some language he couldn’t understand. And suddenly grabbed their collar, hoisting them up in the air before slamming them into the pillar. “Who are you?” He snarled, twirling his polearm. “And do tell me why you were watching me?”

“No I would not”

“Y’know what? Fair” they sigh, putting their hands up in a sort of surrendering motion. Which promptly gets them dropped onto the floor, and Morax watches as they stumble in an attempt to gain their footing, to which they eventually succeed. Mumbling something under their breath as they did so. “You’re the god of contracts right?” That piqued his interest, and he nodded, silently telling them to go on with their explanation. “Well I was wondering if you would like to—“ they started, not being able to finish their sentence before the spear was at their throat.

“I’m not making a deal with you” he snaps, his lip twitching into a snarl as the fae pouts,crossing their arms. Clearly annoyed their plan wouldn’t work. “I don’t need anything from you, and I know what you fae can be like” he says, turning and leaving them without another glance.

~~~~~~~~

The bustle of Liyue Harbour was a glorious sight, it had existed for just less than a century now. But it was already so full of life! And mischief, the shapeshifter watched from a nearby food stall, watching two kids plan to prank an adult with a gleam in their eye. They couldn’t help but like causing some mayhem, it was in their blood! It was natural, and most importantly it was fun. Who didn’t love the expression of someone after they’ve lost their favourite book, or when they realise they locked themself out of their house? It was just pure gold!

Someone tapped their shoulder’s, making them roll their eyes. They just wanted to eat in peace and cause some chaos! Was that so hard to ask? Apparently it was, as currently Morax was glaring at them, arms crossed as usual. “I thought I told you to stay away from here” of course that was what it was about, they hadn’t even done anything! Sure maybe they might’ve caused a house fire or two but it was on accident. Plus everybody involved came out fine! So what was the harm in it? Plus ‘insurance’ or whatever had been invented by that point.

“Yeah about that, I decided not to do the whole ‘stay out of Liyue business’. Not my style, also! This food is simply amazing” they smile, finishing the last of their meal and turning in the stool to face the archon. “Hm… I thought you only showed up once a year? Ooh! Making a special appearance just for me I see?” They chuckle, laughing harder when they see Morax’s look of annoyance, “I’m just kidding, no need to get all murdery on me~” they smile, standing up and handing the necessary mora to the chef before stretching. “Why don’t we go on a walk…? I’m sure we have plenty to catch up on after all”

Morax glares at them,before considering there offer. “Why not?” He answers, smirking slightly as he watches the faerie stumble mentally. Clearly not having expected him to agree, but happy he did anyway. He decided to shrug it off when hey looped their arm in his, essentially dragging them off through the busy streets, weaving through the crowd of people. They both stood out a lot, mostly because of Morax. I mean, he didn’t exactly look human. “And for that,I wanted to see what humans were up to.” He says, internally cursing himself for his terrible lying skills.

“Yeah yeah,we both know you just wanted to see me” they chuckle,and he hates that they’re right. Since their first encounter, they had a lot of back and forth. Mostly bickering or something of the like. But the faerie managed to bring an aspect of inconsistency to his life that was refreshing. It was… different to all the other contracts he was stuck maintaining, different to the boring sense of knowing what happens next. Or meticulously searching for any lies in his business partners.

“My sincerest apologies that I sometimes enjoy your bothering” he retorts, voice laced in heavy sarcasm as he lets himself be dragged to a sort of café. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, they both knew each other’s tells easy enough to know he was asking for an explanation for their choice of location. And they’re quick to provide with one, after they grab the menu and point to a specific drink in the alcohol sector.

“I came here recently and ordered this—it was really nice and I think you would enjoy it” they grin,raising an eyebrow. “Want me to order some? On me of course” Morax hummed,clearly contemplating the idea. “What’s the catch? I know you don’t give out things like this for free” that earns a chuckle from them, as they raise their hands in surrender, giggling to themself.

“You got me! The only catch is we have more of these… dates in the future” they smile, and Morax hates that he knows they’re incapable of lying. Fae rules and such. But he reluctantly nods, ultimately deciding it was worth it. And they never specified how many more they wanted, so it could easily be stopped if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

The fae grins, waving over a waiter, and orders two glasses of Osmanthus wine.

[stitchdfox]

Eddie is on tour pt 2

“I haven’t even thought about him once this week,” Eddie lies as he stacks their home designed shirts on the table.

Jeff rolls his eyes. “I know you, Munson. Let’s recap. You’ve talked to this guy once, haven’t even text him because you’re in your head, and you’ve been agonizing over calling him again since the second you hung up the phone nights ago.”

Eddie lets out a low snarl.

“That means I’m right.” A smug grin peeks at the corner of Jeff’s lips. “You’ve not stopped thinking about him.”

Whatever. Maybe Jeff was right. Eddie didn’t know the rules with something like this. Should he text? Should he call? If he calls, what time would be okay to call? It’s not like he could guess when he’d be free. Plus, time lost all meaning on tour. It had been 5 days and almost 500 miles on the road between shows.

Tonight Eddie was on merch duty. He is the most engaging one out of the guys. They usually put him there because he brought in the most profit. It was easy for him to talk. He chats with a girl who was terribly interested in how the band started.

“We did a talent show together in middle school. We didn’t win but we did a blood bond ritual that night so we are stuck together forever.” He shoots her a devilish grin and she gives a nervous chuckle. “Only kidding. These guys—“ his phone lights up. It’s Steve.

“Excuse me,” he nods at his phone as he picks it up. He takes a deep breath before he answers. “Hello?”

“Hey Eddie!” Steve sounds excited he picked up. “I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner. “

Eddie smiles “it’s okay.”

“I swear I wanted to call—“

“Steve, it’s okay!” Eddie takes the cash from the girl as she walks off with a copy of their EP.

“Okay.” He gives a soft chuckle.

“Hope it wasn’t a beautiful girl who kept you away.” Eddie teases, causing his heart to drop into his stomach. Sure it had been on his mind since they first talked but—

“Nah, man. I was at camp this week with the kids and we had negative amounts of service. I wanted to call. I did!”

“Steve.”

“And Robin kept giving me shit about it and—“

“Steve.”

“Maybe she was right—“

“Sweetheart.”

Steve goes quiet. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you called.”

“Cool. Alright. Yeah.”

Steve sighs.

“Couple questions though.” Eddie grins.

“Shoot.”

“You have kids?” His voice catches in his throat.

“Ah. No. It’s kind of complicated.” Steve sounds more relaxed so Eddie urges him on.

“Do tell.”

“I used to babysit them. I know, weird. They are all wonderful little brats, as much as I’d like to strangle them. They’re growing up too fast and this is our last summer together before they head off to college.”

“That’s… not what I expected.” Eddie says more to himself than anyone else. He’s startled as the next band starts up, loudly presenting their set.

“Shit. You’re still at the show!” Steve hollers through the phone.

“Time zones, man. I can call you back—“ Eddie is cut off as Jeff joins him at the table. He makes a lewd gesture at Eddie, knowing full well he’s on a call with Steve.

Eddie waves him off as Steve’s call drops. He sighs, a bit defeated. Jeff pokes at his shoulder making kissy noises. He ignores him and pushes him away as his phone vibrates in his hand.

Steve: call me tonight if you want. I’ll be up late. :)

Jeff peers over Eddie’s shoulder and reads the text. “Eddie and Steve, sitting in a treeee.”

Eddie elbows him in the stomach.

“Shut it, man. I don’t even know if he’s into guys! He mentioned a girl named Robin. Could be his girlfriend.”

“I’m not convinced.” Jeff shrugs. “He called you tonight. That text has a smiley face on it. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. And if he does, and he’s doing that,” he points to Eddie’s phone. “Then you don’t want any part of it.”

Eddie has to agree with him there. Before his thoughts run away from him he spots another patron eyeing their table and waves to her.

Jeff leans in, “guess that’s for future Eddie to worry about, huh?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and readies for his performance.

“Fair maiden. Can I interest you in our wares?” Eddie sweeps his hands in front of him to present their small selection of merch. She steps forward and smiles as she points to a hand designed shirt.

He makes mental notes of the things he wanted to ask Steve. Need to figure out who this guy was and how did he have such a hold over him already? All Eddie knew was that he was completely taken with him.

Cross posting from my Twitter fandom account.

Part 1 here.

Part 3 soon. You can catch up on Twitter if you don’t wanna wait!

[syncopein3d]

Broken World

4: Bad Night

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

CW: badly injured whumpee, implied past violence, loss of consciousness, fear of death, discussion of death, offensive/ignorant cis questions, blood, bruises, broken ribs, difficulty breathing, stranger caretaker, uncertain fate

Ripper ate the noodles without much interest. They felt like they gouged on their way down, and it couldn’t taste much. It wouldn’t be able to for a couple of days. Mostly they kept an eye on Robert as they sat there, in case he dropped the fat styrofoam cup or threw up. Neither happened. Afterward, he set the cup on the nightstand and sloshed water from the bottle around his mouth before he swallowed.

“So, where do you sleep?” Robert asked.

“I’ve got a couple of things to do. Then I’ll lie on top of the other side. It’s a big bed,” Ripper said.

“Yeah, well, if I die just dump the body in the garage,” Robert said. “In case I get back up.”

“Do I want that?” Ripper asked.

“It’d mean your extra work wasn’t wasted.” He leaned back into the pillow stack, swollen eyes all the way shut now.

“Good point.” They threw away the trash and washed the cup and fork they’d used for the noodles. Then they grabbed the duffel and went to take a hurried shower and brush their teeth. In a few minutes they were cleaned, changed into different sweats, and padding barefoot back into the guest room. Robert was still breathing, the wheeze audible, so Ripper shut off the light and lay down facing him on top of the comforter. Its current cheapish smart phone made a small weight in one pocket. It actually thought he was asleep until he said,

“You sleep in a mask?”

“Nobody knows my face, and I’m not starting with you. Go to sleep.” It was all the Ripper could do to keep its own eyes open. Food eased the stomach cramps even if it didn’t affect the overall raw feeling that came from turning itself inside out to pass through the Other Place. Acetaminophen dulled the pain a little. And they were so very tired…

Ripper woke up with a start, rolling backward off the bed to crouch on the floor behind before they even registered why they were awake.

Then the noise happened again, a small, pained bark, and it realized Robert was trying not to cough and failing. They clawed their way back up onto the bed, stifling a groan. It felt like every raw place inside them had stiffened. A glance at the phone said it was six a.m. They must have slept for about six hours. There had been dreams, a snarl of uncolors and pain.

“You okay?” Robert asked. He was half-curled on his side facing away, so he could stay supported by pillows but keep weight off his left ribs. For a second his misshapen nose was there in silhouette as he tried to look over his shoulder.

“Better off than you are. How long have you been coughing?”

“Few minutes, I guess. Hurts like Hell. Is that normal?” His voice wasn’t any less graveled than yesterday.

“With broken ribs, yes. I’ll make tea.”

“All this time I thought people were really weird about pain,” he muttered. “Turns out I wasn’t feeling most of – kaff – fuck! Feeling most of it.”

“How sad for you,” rasped Ripper, already carrying the kettle away to refill. Robert coughed again twice while it was doing this. When it came back he was lying with his eyes closed, face half-buried in the pillow. Ripper thought he had passed out or gone back to sleep for a minute or so. Then, when it was pouring hot water over the black tea bags, he said,

“Why you doin’ this?”

“Good for a sore throat.”

“You know what – kff – what I meant.”

“You said your blood could heal me, remember?” Even to themselves, they sounded dry.

“It can. But you haven’t gone looking for needles or asked my blood type or nothing. Y’don’t believe me, do you?”

“I believe you’d say anything to stay alive.” Ripper shrugged. “I would, too, if I was you. But you did tell me where the carnite was. That’s worth something. And I can’t do anything with it for another couple of days anyway. I’m not busy.”

“Can’t. Why?” A thin sliver of bloodshot eye appeared to regard them.

“None of your business.”

“You’re sick,” Robert said. “Worse than when you found me. That thing you do, it hurts you.”

“Shut up. You want milk and sugar or not?”

“Nah,” Robert said. He eased himself into a more upright position, gritting his teeth. “Thanks. So you can’t travel to sell this shit until you get better. DO you get better?”

Ripper glared down at him. Robert looked back up at him. Then he grinned, showing a couple of missing teeth.

“You don’t scare me,” he said. Ripper exhaled involuntarily, not quite a laugh.

“Fine, you ass. I get better until I have to tear again. It’s never right any more, but tearing is worse. Can you hold this?”

“Yeah. Gimme it.” He held the mug in both hands, inhaling the steam. “So you think you can find somebody to fix you with the carnite so it doesn’t hurt no more. Who would you even trust to do that?”

“I know someone,” Ripper said. “She’s operated on me. She’ll be honest enough as long as I pay up.”

Robert listened as he drank tea, nodding slightly. Then he said, “You don’t think you’ll wake up strapped down and she’ll cut bits off you until you tell her where the carnite is?”

“I think her reputation is worth more to her than nine hundred fifty million dollars.”

“That’s crazy.”

“She’s a very specific kind of crazy. Do you think you can eat a protein bar?”

“No,” Robert said. “Stomach feels weird.” He set down the mug on the nightstand and would have just flopped backward if Ripper hadn’t caught him by the shoulders to help lower him back down. He didn’t wince at the thumb on the bandaged ball of his shoulder.

“Robert?” There was a clotty mumble, then a cough, no real answer. Ripper wedged him into the pillow pile so he would stay upright. They would swear they heard a crackle to his breathing now, mucus sticking to itself and the walls inside when he breathed. He didn’t fight them.

The wounded man slept fitfully all day. He was never awake enough for a real conversation until evening, when he started to really have trouble breathing. At that point, it decided the risk of suffocation was as bad as the risk of a punctured lung. The Ripper peeled back the covers, put a towel over one shoulder, and straddled his legs, pulling him forward. Then, as he lay with the unbroken side of his ribs against their chest, they thumped his back with their fist to help him cough. The sound was awful, and it could hear the wet sound of tarry mucus and blood hitting the terry cloth. Their arms ached, and that made the ache inside worse, but they didn’t even think of stopping.

Afterward, he breathed a little easier. Ripper could feel him trying to wipe his mouth on the towel before he nudged it aside and rested his forehead on their shoulder. It rubbed his naked back silently for a couple of minutes. His skin still felt hot. The NSAID helped the fever, but had not eliminated it.

“Hey, Ripper,” he said weakly.

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid to die. I thought I never could.”

“Maybe you won’t,” the Ripper said. “It’s too early to say.” Robert grunted, but he didn’t move, so neither did they.

“Will you tell me one thing?” he whispered.

“Probably,” Ripper said.

“You born flat, or you get ‘em removed?”

It pushed him back into the pillows, ignoring his wheezing laugh. He curled onto his side, but didn’t stop for a while as it stalked away to shove the now-horrible towel into the washer.

“Asshole,” they said, as they came to pull the covers back over him.

“You said you’d tell,” Robert gasped. A weak hand clutched at their wrist. They detached it, but carefully, setting his hand back on the mattress.

“I had top surgery. Why do you care?”

“I never knew an agender type – thing - before. Don’t want to die wondering. One more?”

“It better not be about my genitals again, because I’m not answering that.” The fact that he’d said “thing” tempered its annoyance a little. Usually it didn’t even bother with that, because no one would use it. Robert had.

“What d’you call yourself in your head?” he was asking. “Not he or she.”

“It,” Ripper said. “Sometimes they.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.” The swelling in his eyes might be a little less. It was easier to tell when he closed them. Ripper sat on the edge of the bed beside him for a couple of minutes, elbow resting on his hip. After a minute, he said, “Will you stay? It’s gonna be a bad night. If it’s going to happen, I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be here,” Ripper said. ��But it’s only fair you know that if you do die, I’m rolling your ass off the balcony.”

“Don’ make me laugh again, damn you.”

He couldn’t even drink broth that night. Ripper finished the cup itself. When they had showered they crawled into bed with him under the covers, wearing boxers and a loose tee shirt with the name of a college they’d never been to on it. They pressed up close to his burning body, arm carefully over his belly so that they could feel him breathe.

“Starting to feel floaty,” Robert said. “I don’t think it’ll be long.”

“Sh,” Ripper said. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Robert turned his face into their shoulder. He stayed that way for a long time, his labored breathing loud in the dark room. Ripper held onto him, thumb stroking one of the only unbruised parts of his side, listening to each breath get farther apart.

It was sure he would be dead before morning, that it would one moment be holding a living man and the next moment a corpse. That was bad, but it had done that before in a way that had been much worse. This couldn’t pay for that, but it could at least make it easier for Robert than it had been for Blackknife.

But that wasn’t how it happened.

Ripper snapped awake, arm tightening. Something in the sound of the room had changed. It could feel Robert still breathing –

But it could barely hear him. It lay still for a while, listening, but he had stopped wheezing. Under their arm he breathed easily and regularly, without a hint of obstruction. That couldn’t be. They sat up on one elbow. Robert let his cheek be slid onto the pillow with a small mumble of protest, bur he didn’t wake up. That let Ripper turn far enough to grope around for the hoodie with the smartphone in the pocket. Then it turned the dim half-light of the screen on Robert’s face.

His eyelids were a little dark, but they were smooth, barely swollen. His face was no longer swollen at all, the line of his jaw straight and perfect. His nose was still crooked. Ripper tugged the covers down from his chest to look at his ribcage and was staring dumbfounded at the unbroken and unmarked skin when something hit it so hard in the chest it was knocked backward off the bed.

It knew just enough to cover its head with its arms before it hit the rugs. The phone went flying. Ripper curled on its side, gasping, wondering if its sternum had cracked. Spots danced in front of its eyes, blacker against the black.

“Ripper? Ripper?? Shit!” It was a new voice now. Still a little rough, but strong, definite. They heard Robert slide off the bed, and then felt him scoop them up against his body as if they weighed almost nothing, pulling them into the vee of his legs. “Hey, talk to me. Are you okay? Is anything broken?” He patted at their chest, producing a protesting hiss but no shift of cracked bone. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Robert,” it panted.

“Yeah.”

“ Are you better?”

“Yeah. It wore off, finally,” he said.

“Oh. Good,” Ripper said. It let its head rest against a more muscular shoulder than it remembered. Robert was saying something else, shaking them a little, but that was all right. Robert was all right. The thing inside that burned felt farther away...

Ripper felt themselves turning into dead weight, heavy and limp, but it didn't feel important. The world had gone soft and dark.

Part 5

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Forgiveness - a Malevolent fic

Court was a drag (as always), but at least John felt the right to participate more.

He’d chosen a name for himself. Nobody knew it but him; that didn’t matter. He knew who he was.

Part of the Surrogate Series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

--------

It was on their last day that they made a plan.

“Look,” Parker said softly, his words hidden by the wild, chanting musical about a Founding-Father politician. “We get outta here, he’s not all we got to deal with.”

“I know,” said Arthur softly.

“Whoever tried to get you two is gonna try again.” Parker looked grim. “You know that. Don’t you?”

Yes, John growled, low and dangerous. And I will tear out their fucking eyes when they do.

“I’m sure you will, buddy,” said Parker, still softly, “but we don’t know who they are, and that puts us at a real disadvantage. Don’t know whose eyes to get at, you feel me? They came at us from a weird angle last time.”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “Using the seal of Hastur’s dead son.”

Sunny made one sad noise.

John snarled.

“Yeah,” said Parker. “So. Way I see it, our job ain’t done. We got some work to do.”

Arthur looked troubled. “I know Hastur’s people are working on it.”

“Yeah,” said Parker. “They missed a pretty big hole, didn’t they?”

“Anyone would have. Who could have known something like that?”

“Maybe not about the debt owed,” said Parker softly, “but we knew something was wrong. The head cook was off. He was condemning himself and trying to warn us. Everybody heard it. We just ignored it.”

Arthur sighed. “All right. What’s our game plan?”

“First, we gotta get ourselves in as good a shape and as good a position as possible,” said Parker. “That means you two in court, fucking behaving.”

John growled.

Parker ignored that. “And it means me and Sunny need to make more friends. A lot of friends. The kind of friends who’ll tell us if they think something’s wrong. The kind of friends who’d never say boo to someone like Hastur, because he’s scary, but we’re not. The kind of friends who’d hide us in a fuckin’ pinch.”

Arthur nodded. “Covering both ends. I get it.  We can watch the mucky-mucks, meanwhile, for behavioral clues.”

“Yeah.” Parker gripped his arm. “We can do this.”

“We can.” Arthur nodded, grim. “And we will.”

I am not throwing away my shot! declared the Keeper’s speakers, and leaning against Faroe, Tabby cheered.

#

They were really doing this. Arthur was really doing this—and he knew, against all instinct, what that had to mean for his next step.

You’re thoughtful, said John. Also, you’re veering left.

Arthur corrected and mentally added a few steps to his count to Court. “I know something I have to do, but I don’t want to do it.”

And he felt John flex in him, just a little, swelling, straining just for a second, pushing the air out of Arthur’s lungs. What? What now? More confrontation?

“Actually, you’re not far off,” said Arthur. “I’ve been putting it off because I don’t want to do it. I hate it. I hate it with all my heart, but I have to. If I don’t, John… then I’m a hypocrite. And there are many things in this world I’ll do—many pits I’ll fall into, many mistakes I’ll make—but I will not do that. ”

John was spooked now. What is it, for fuck’s sake?

“I have to talk to Larson.”

John made a gagging noise.

Arthur laughed lightly. “You’re completely correct, yes. But… I have to. If I don’t, John, all the work you and I are doing with the Keeper is going to stall. I have to do this.”

Do what?

“Just… please have my back. I can’t… if I try to say it out loud now, I’ll lose whatever courage I have for this.”

The fuck are you going to do, kiss him?

Arthur snorted. “No.”

Better not. John sounded relieved. I’d fucking kill him if you did.

The jealousy was a can unopened and buried in the back yard. “We can’t kill him,” Arthur pointed out.

I’ll make him wish I had killed him.

“Let’s just get this part over with,” said Arthur, and headed into the courtroom.

#

Court was a drag (as always), but at least John felt the right to participate more.

He’d chosen a name for himself. Nobody knew it but him; that didn’t matter. He knew who he was.

Especially after the mess of the last month. The… vulnerability of the last month.

No. He would not mull over it now. It did not matter. He was here now, and in charge, or close enough, because Hastur could not be. He’d shown his soft underside, and now that John had seen it, he could not unsee.

He would never be like that. So… weak. Never. Never!

John paid keen attention to every case before them, to every conversation nearby; he watched so hard that he kept forgetting to tell Arthur what he was seeing. At least, until Arthur said, “Tell me like a story, John. Spin me the tale of this crazy courtroom filled with gods.”

Oh, John could do that.  Before us seethes the vagrancy of the powerful, like poison smeared in place of paint. Those who have eyes pretend not to stare at each other, but they do, watching with the caution of old wounds and deadly plans. Arthur, it’s a glittering horse, beautiful and nightmarish; they are monsters, breaking minds at their very approach, and happy to do it. They are cruel, and greedy, and flaunt both their power and cosmically insane appearances.

“Thank you for being my eyes, John,” said Arthur, and took his hand.

Which was one hell of a reward. None of them seem to need Hastur’s specific attention today.

“Then we’ve got a chance to observe them as candidly as possible. See everything. I need you, John.”

Nothing he said could have spurred John on better. He memorized, calculated, analyzed. He fell silent for a while, focusing, trying.

Which was good, because Arthur needed that time to think.

#

Arthur didn’t want to do this. “Which way?”

Arthur, are you sure?

“Yes, John. Which way?”

Left. Librarian is left.

He really didn’t want to do this. “Let me know when we’re in sight. Please.”

Sure. Arthur…

He really, really didn’t want to do this. “ No , John. This is happening.” Because it was. Because it had to.

Because Arthur would not be a hypocrite. 

The smell of books and the sound of rustling pages told him where they were before John did, those two senses casting nets further afield than sight. They’re around the next corner, about six steps forward, then left. Arthur…

“I’m sure, damn it.”

I just… I’m trying to say I’m with you. 

Arthur took his hand, lifted it, just touched his lips to the back of John’s hand. “Thank you. With you at my back, I could conquer the world.”

John was roiling happy gold when they walked around the bend.

#

Larson and the Librarian sat among piles of books, staring at manuscripts and scribbled translations. Larson scowled; the Librarian’s pages ruffled.

“I know,” snapped Larson, who somehow put sharp edges into his drawl. “I just don’t know how the fuck to put this in a way a kid would get.”

The Librarian flipped some pages.

Larson sighed. “‘May he be unable to chain bears, may he lose with every bear, may he be unable to kill a bear on Wednesday, in any hour, now, now, quickly, quickly, make it happen.’ Look. That’s literal. Literal’s fine, but the job is to translate by thought, not word, so it’s relatable. What do we relate cursed bear training to in Carcosa, huh? What?”

And it was time. “Hi,” said Arthur.

The Librarian flipped pages.

It’s showing music notes all across both sides of its head, said John. I think it’s happy to see us.

Arthur smiled. “Nice to see you, too. Hello.” But then his smile faded. “Larson. We need to talk.”

They’re staring at you.

“I’ll bet they are,” Arthur murmured. “Larson, I mean it. It’s nothing bad. You can get back to work right afterward.”

He looks so confused, Arthur. Suspicious; his brow is knit, and his frown is tight. 

“Do you,” Larson said, having picked up that Hasturian habit of asking a confirmation that wasn’t actually asking, but denying.

“I do,” said Arthur. “Please come.”

Pages flipped.

The Librarian has presented us with an image of… high tea?

Arthur guessed at the meaning and smiled weakly. “Yes,” he said. “I promise it’s civil.”

The Librarian gestured. I think it means, go on. Uh. Thumbs up, so yes. 

Larson stood. “How serious is this talk, Arthur Lester?”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

There’s a balcony to our right.

“That’ll work. Follow me.” Arthur led the way.

#

The breeze was warm; it was beginning to get sticky out, as Arthur thought of it, not uncomfortably hot, but the kind of weather that let itself to gentle sweats and memorable sex, and wasn’t that a weird thought for him to have?

It was. Arthur didn’t think about sex at all, most days. But something about this particular level of heat and humidity brought the Woods back to mind, and—

Right. None of that . He shook it off, leaned on the balcony, and waited.

Larson came up behind him. Paused. Then leaned beside him, hesitant. Wary. On guard.

“I have something to say to you,” said Arthur carefully. “It’s more for me than for you. But if you follow it, sort of like a…  will-o'-the-wisp or something, it might really help you in the long run.”

“Not exactly making this sound desirable,” drawled Larson.

There was no graceful way to do this. No smooth segue, no easy entrance. Arthur stood straight and faced him. “I want you to know I forgive you.”

Larson laughed.

Arthur knew he would. He was prepared for it, braced, the same way Dis taught him to tense his abdominal muscles in case of a punch there. It still fucking aggravated.

“You what?” said Larson.

“I forgive you,” said Arthur. “It doesn’t mean what you did was in any way excusable, or in any way makes you anything but complete and utter scum. You don’t get a free pass. I’m saying I won’t hold you responsible anymore.”

Larson thought that was even funnier.

Arthur’s breath was short, through his nose, carefully controlled. He kept his hands open, choosing not to clench.

John was surprised.

John was flabbergasted.

John had Arthur’s back. You should be grateful for his consideration .

“Grateful!” Larson just kept laughing like the asshole he was. “For pittance, dribbled out by the likes of you? Ha! Ha! ”

Arthur took a slow breath. “It’s important, and here’s why. If you don’t let go of the past, you can’t steer to a new future.”

Oh, said John softly.

“Ha!” said Larson.

“So,” said Arthur. “So here’s the thing. You can forgive yourself—which is the first step on this journey, and I know it’s hard—or you can refuse to do that, and march bold-faced toward your destruction. It’s up to you, Wallace. Nobody can make that choice but you. Only you. It’s all fucking on you. ”

John held his metaphorical breath.

“You’re full of shit, Lester,” said Larson.

“Just think about it,” said Arthur. “And know that I’m offering this because I’m choosing that way , because people who care about you… get hurt when you just punish yourself.” His voice cracked. “It isn’t worth it, when you punish yourself. And it doesn’t fix it, anyway.”

“You think I’m punishing myself, do you?” Larson said, low. “That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“I think you think you’ll be absolved if you become a god,” said Arthur.

Larson went so still. So very still, as if he’d utterly given up breathing.

And Arthur was done. He left. Walked out. Turned away and the conversation, leaving Larson to his ha and his haughtiness, because he’d done what he came to do, and didn’t expect anything more.

Larson stared.

Larson stayed for a long moment, leaning on the balcony, teeth bared, breathing fast. He barely had it together when he returned to work, but translations would wait for no man. “Aw, nothing,” he said when the Librarian showed him a big question-mark on a page. “Just that idiot being self-righteous, is all.”

#

Arthur walked. He walked, letting John guide him away from walls and through doors, until they were finally in the garden, in open air, sweating slightly in the sun, and at last, he breathed evenly.

That was…

“Yes?” said Arthur, genuinely curious as to what John would say.

I don't know how to feel about that. It wasn’t what I expected.

“Well, like I said… I didn’t do it for him .”

Does this… John stopped, gulped. Do… does… will you… does this mean you’re choosing to live?

Arthur’s eyes filled, then spilled, and he wasn’t sure which of them was crying. “Yes. I don’t… I don’t feel it yet. But I know I will. I’m choosing a direction, and a… a thought pattern. I’ll feel it in time. I’m choosing. I’m… I’m steering my ship, John. Because I love you, and I hate… I hate that it’s hurt you, all this time.”

John’s arm rose and wrapped around Arthur’s chest, clutching, fisting Arthur’s shirt tightly, and said nothing.

For right now, it was enough to be , to walk together in the gardens, to step out of the thick and glutinous wake of this one-sided forgiveness, and breathe the air of a possible future.

And John would guard that future. Arthur had chosen to live , and that mattered more than anything else in the world.

--------

Notes:

The curse Larson mentions is real? Because history is amazing? Link one Link two

[orphyd]

What sort of sounds do your Supernatural OCs/Sims make? 🎤

The Vatores and Vlad can all squeak click and chirp like bats (mostly for echolocation but also it’ll come out if any of them are suddenly scared it’s pretty funny)

When angered or during a fight they make some sort of shrieking roar probably pretty painful to listen to and is a good defensive move particularly against other vampires who have sensitive ears

Jane is a smorgasbord of weird noise

She can trill and purr while content and it’s quite deep (think the sound of an emu) it’s the sound most heard while she’s walking around the house or doing any sort of daily task and almost involuntary

She’ll also tap her claws and thump her tail on everything as sort of a auditory tick

I haven’t figured out all her angry noises yet lots of feline snarling and sounds that would probably make the average person die of fright on the spot but idk what specifically yet

This isn’t an ask game just some more sim lore but I invite people to reblog this or just comment on it I’m curious 🤔

[captain039]

PART 3 The predator grounds (Jim Hopper)

Alpha!werewolf!Jim hopper x omega!human!reader

Warnings: ABO, heats, ruts, sexual, smut, rough, monster fudging, age gap, hurt/comfort, swearing, angst, weird Vecna, takes place in the upside down

Last part <-

His mouth was everywhere, assaulting your neck like his life depended on it. His teeth scraping over you scent and mating gland every so often making you tremble in his hold. He was snarling lowly, breath hot, hands clenching your hips tightly. Hopper growled pushing you away suddenly as his bones cracked and he shifted. He stood on all fours body shaking as he hung his head. You shuffled back but a clawed paw rested across your stomach moving to stand over you. The beast groaned and his bones cracked and he changed back. He hovered over you panting loudly, it must hurt and take a lot of effort.

“Sorry” he muttered cheeks red.

“‘S ok” you smiled comfortingly.

“Does it hurt?” You asked hand on his shoulder, running down his arm slowly.

“Little” he grumbled.

“More exhausting?” You asked and he nodded eyes staring at you.

“Got easy when I was 20” he rolled his eyes and you laughed before it broke off. God damn these cramps. His eyes were worried and you gave him a strained smile. His forehead rested on your suddenly and you stilled. Your hands rested against his arms clenching every now and then as you let out a small whine.

“Fuck it” he muttered lips suddenly on yours making you gasp. You arched up, arms going around his neck to tug him closer. He was on his knees and hands, keeping himself even as you tugged. You grumbled into the kiss making him chuckle. You were unsure of what you were doing, sure you’ve kissed a boy, for a dare…

He knew exactly what to do however, hand slipping under your shirt, cold hand touching your cool skin, making you gasp. His tongue met yours and you moaned, surprised by the sounds you made. You grew a little more confident, tangling your tongue with his before pressing closer. He however, pulled back and you made a annoyed noise before flushing. You didn’t meet his eyes, cheeks on fire. He didn’t move for a while and you glanced to see his frown.

“You’ve never done this?” He asked and you looked away again tears in your eyes. You shook your head hands covering your eyes, now he’d never fuck you. You went to roll on your stomach and crawl away but was caught.

“It’s fine” you said voice sounding more broken than you meant.

“We’ll get out of here eventually I’ll just hide in this office” you took shaky breaths, god you felt like shit.

“Sure there’s a gate somewhere-“ you were cut off by hands moving yours and lips crashing against yours again. You keened he wasn’t gentle, then again you didn’t expect him to be.

“I’m on thin ice” he muttered and you frowned.

“I will fuck you right here if you give me your full consent” his voice was raspy, eyes almost black. You nodded, stuttering your words.

“You can take me” you finally managed but he still hesitated.

“Shit, please fuck me!” You blurted and he grinned. You felt extremely embarrassed by your outburst but his lips quickly distracted you along with his hands shaking up your shirt. He rested them over your boobs and squeezed, a low content hum leaving his throat.

“Off” he muttered quickly tugging your shirt over your head. You really wish you could’ve prepared. A plain skin colour bra with no fancy lace or anything, just support. Hopper rolled you over slightly unclasping your bra with one hand before resting you back on your back. You gulped but slipped off your bra and laid it with your shirt. His eyes trailed your half bare form before his lips met your nipple. You gasped at the sudden action, the alpha humming deeply in satisfaction. His hand was cupping and squeezing the other one before his mouth moved to it. You accidentally hit your head a little hard on the concrete making you whimper. He stopped lifting his head.

“Hit my head a little hard” you muttered and he frowned grabbing your shirt and lying it under your head.

“Stop bashing it against the ground” he grumbled and joked making you smile. He resumed back on your nipple, more gasps leaving you. Slick was making your legs wet and overly hot, you spread them apart hoping the alpha above you would rest his knees and slot between your legs. You huffed when he didn’t and he lifted his head again slowly.

“Am I boring you sweetheart?” He grinned and you flushed shaking your head.

“No I- I-“ you looked away too embarrassed. He moved and finally his body pressed against yours making you shudder.

“Can you read my mind?” You mumbled as he smiled above you.

“No, but I know body language” he chuckled kissing you again. You wrapped your legs around his waist somehow pressing yourself closer. His hand gripped your thigh as he kissed you passionately. You were practically a koala on him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He patted your thigh and you frowned but let your legs lie back on the ground as he pushed himself up. He leant back on his feet and tugged down your pants and discarded them. His eyes stared and you realised your underwear was soaked.

“Fuck omega” he mumbled kissing up your legs. You rested an arm over your eyes, biting your bottom lip roughly. His tongue lapped around your inner thighs, licking up the slick that dripped. He rumbled in satisfaction, nipping the sensitive flesh when he was done before tugging at your underwear. He stopped, making you frown and lift your arm too look at him. You nodded but he still waited.

“You can take them off” you muttered and he did eyes hungry…predatory.

His noises were animalistic, he shuffled back more letting your legs rest before moving them over his shoulders. You frowned a bit in confusion before it kicked and a hot tongue swiped across your folds. Your back arched and you gasped loudly, hands fisting by your sides. You struggled to breath as he licked and sucked on your core. You were squirming, struggling to stay still before he growled. He wrapped his arms upwards and around your thighs, keeping you still before he continued. You couldn’t move as much, even though you tried, your breathing was ragged and you felt overwhelmed.

“Alpha” you moaned out as fingers pressed against your clit and began to rub. You cried out back arching at the stimulation before your stomach coiled and clenched.

You cried out again, feeling your eyes roll back in pure bliss as you came.

You were loudly panting for awhile, dazed out as he finally stopped. You were staring at nothing before he crawled back up your body.

“You with me?” He asked voice hoarse and you nodded focusing on him.

“Good, I’m not done”

Next part ->

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Cut Through It

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Rivalries are very common within sports, especially ones that are as important as the Olympics are. They're going to figure it out, especially now that they have all these weird new feelings in addition to the original rivalry. Warnings: Mentions of sex, implied substance abuse/crimes, and referenced athletic transphobia Word Count: 3,064 Ship(s): Diego Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: I just wanted to put a quick disclaimer at the beginning of this: I have never been to the Olympics nor am I very into sports. I just wanted to write a fic where they were at each other's throats in a competitive way but weren't in school. There are likely a lot of mistakes and inaccuracies in how this all works, but I just wanted to make something silly! I hope you can all enjoy. Stay sissy and bitchy anyone &lt;3

“I’m going to kill him.”

The heavy door of the hotel room that he had been put up in by his team swung shut behind him with a resounding ‘click’ to let him know the lock was in place. Despite the fact that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning, the blinds and heavy curtains were still drawn over the window that overlooked the courtyard. There was a mess of clothing and technology spread out over the floor from the two open suitcases, along with a violin and the music stand that came with it. The bed on the right was made in the way that a normal human that didn’t work with housekeeping could manage while the one on the right was occupied with a lanky-looking body.

Viktor stepped up onto the bed and then nudged the figured underneath the blankets, which earned him a groan from the occupant. As soon as he was sure that he had actually woken the other man, he stepped onto his bed and then down onto the floor. “What?” Klaus asked when he poked his head out of his cocoon just in time to get blinded by the sunlight when Viktor took a curtain in either hand to wrench them open so that the daylight could come pouring in. 

He whirled around and then clambered up onto his bed. He didn’t even care about the fact that his swimming shorts were soaking through his sweats. “I’m going to kill him,” he repeated.

He slipped off of the bed so that he was standing in the space between them and then began to dig through his suitcase despite half of the contents already being spread around the hotel room from the previous days that they had stayed together. He got out a comfortable pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt that he was going to wear his favorite flannel over.

Klaus let out a low grumbling noise as he burrowed further into his blankets, pulling them up over his head so that he could hide from the light. “You’re not going to kill him,” he sounded like he was yawning, but the sound was muffled by several layers of fabric.

“I am, he’s so fucking insufferable,” Viktor seethed. He didn’t even think about it as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. His swimming trunks were peeled off of his skin and laid out over the crinkly plastic wrap that had already been put over a chunk of his bed so that he could dry them without having them in the bathroom since that was what made his last pair go moldy. He then shimmied into a pair of boxers and shoved his jeans on over the damp patches on his legs.

A lot of people that Viktor had dated when he was in college had thought that his ability to do that made him abnormal and weird, to the point that two people had actually broken up with him for it. Viktor had never really thought about it because he had been swimming since for as long as he could remember. His mother often joked that she had given birth to him right next to the pool because of how eager he was.

“I mean, who does he think he is? His coach was just sitting there while timing him, wasn’t even doing that whole pissing contest that they always do. It’s just him by himself being an absolute piss-poor person,” Viktor snarled.

“Careful there, Vik, you’re starting to sound like me,” Klaus laughed. He had seemingly realized that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep and clawed his way out of his cocoon. He stretched his arms above his head so that his entire back popped loudly, tilting from the left before he moved to the right.

The warning did nothing to deter Viktor from his rant. He paused only as long as his shirt was over his head while he was jamming it onto his body before it picked up again. “I mean, does he think that he’s better than me just because he made it to the Olympics? Because newsflash! We’re both at the Olympics which is why he has to share the fucking pool.”

“I think that you just uncovered the true secret, dear,” Klaus slouched onto the floor as he began to search for the sundress that he was going to be wearing until they got to the archery range where he would meet up with his coach. Viktor still wasn’t sure how he had met Reginald Hargreeves in the first place or how the two of them managed to get along when the man was the most insufferably vile person that Viktor had ever met, but he worked well around Klaus’ issues and got him to actually show up for practice on time.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Viktor asked, flopping back down onto his bed now that he was effectively dressed. He had only started when he did so that he could get Klaus in a bit of a rush, but the other man was going to take far more time than he did.

“We’re at the Olympics. People don’t use that as a metaphor for when someone is being way too over the top about something or competing too hard for no reason,” he laughed. “He also probably thinks that you��re hot as shit.”

“What, with my brand new top surgery scars and unstable entry?” Viktor snorted as he flopped both of his arms over his face. He was a good swimmer and always had been, which was why his mother made the jokes about him being a rusalka reborn, but the committee that had entered him wasn’t sure about him on the grounds of his gender identity. It didn’t matter that there was photographic proof of him beating both of his parents times when he was seventeen or that he had tested the top out of a team of biological men, they didn’t like having his controversy supporting their country.

“Your entry is only unstable because of bigots and I know that Diego isn’t an entirely despicable human being,” Klaus said. The dress went over his head and then fell into place along his lean body just in the perfect amount of time for Viktor to fall in step behind him so that he could get the laces tied into place.

The smaller of the two men let out a little huff. “That’s it, I need to find a new best friend. Maybe Five can come with me the next time I go to the Olympics.”

Klaus let out a whine high enough to make a dog cringe. He whirled around and threw his arms messily over Viktor’s shoulders so that he was basically hanging off of his friend. “You don’t mean that, Vik, promise me that you don’t mean that,” he begged.

“Of course I don’t mean that, you absolute drama queen,” Viktor laughed. He wrapped his arms around his best friend’s waist and began to dance them back and forth in the space between their two beds. “Now get off of me so that I can finish tying your dress.”

“Gotta look nice for the paps that are convinced that we’re dating,” Klaus laughed.

Viktor groaned at the reminder of the article that had been spamming their private messages since they had stepped off of the plane several days ago. Having grown up with two semi-famous parents and being from Russia, Viktor wasn’t exactly new to the obsession that the world had with his personal life. Another couple of partners had broken up with him because they couldn’t stand the attention that he got on social media concerning his love life. The article stating that he had to be in a secret relationship with his best friend, going so far as to speculate that they had eloped or that he was pregnant, was enough to piss him off again. “God, I hate America.”

“But it’s where I live,” Klaus whined again.

“I know, and you also hate it here. Weren’t you just complaining about how Dallas is a million degrees and you could feel each one of the hairs on your balls because of how sweaty you are? Which is not how water works, by the way,” Viktor clawed his best friend off of him and then made Klaus turned around.

The other man stretched his arms up and changed the subject again, but Viktor barely blinked when he did because he was used to his friend doing that. It was one of the perks of having known Klaus since they were both too young to know each other’s languages. “Man, talking about your secret crush really does make you grumpy.”

Viktor pulled harder on the laces than he needed to as he finished the bow. He snarled, “I do not have a crush on Diego.”

---

As much as Diego loved swimming and had never felt more alive than when he was in the water, the breath of fresh air that he got whenever he stepped out of the locker rooms and into the streets was his favorite part of practice. It was like he was emerging back into the world from the safe cocoon of chlorine and lapping water.

He stood there for a moment, soaking in the noon-day sun and the sound of bustling people. He had showered and toweled off back when he was in the locker rooms, so he was dressed in his favorite jeans and a baggy letterman jacket from his college days. His mother had sewn a couple of good luck patches on it before he had left for the Olympics, which meant that he tried to wear it whenever he could.

“How was practice?”

Diego blinked and turned to the side to see his best friend standing there. She must have gotten out of practice early, or her coach had dragged her out of bed before the sun had even risen so that they could get to the range before Klaus and Reginald did. The Handler, which was the only thing that she allowed herself to be called anymore, was very competitive and that meant that all of her athletes also were.

Lila was wearing  short tartan skirt that was pleated enough to flare out even when she was standing still. She had a ripped crop top underneath a leather jacket and fishnet gloves, though she had ripped them enough that they were basically just an outline of gloves clinging to her arms.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. Neither of them had to say anything as they peeled away from the front of the pool and began to walk towards the hotel where all of the athletes were staying. “Viktor was there.”

“Oh?” she asked, turning towards him and waggling her eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he shook his head. “He’s a fucking prick.”

Lila cackled at her own joke before she managed to get it out of her mouth, “I bet you would like to fuck his prick.”

His cheeks began to heat up despite himself. He was trying to push back the thoughts of the toned abs coming up to accentuate silvery-red half moon scars underneath his pectorals. Viktor was objectively good looking, which wasn’t that surprising given who his parents were, but he was also borderline cruel when it came to competing. Diego knocked his shoulder against Lila’s a little harder than necessary as he asked, “Can you take anything seriously for more than ten seconds?”

“No,” she shook her head, catching his eyes to hold his gaze for an uncomfortably long time.

He grumbled as he broke the eye contact and led them across the street. “I just don’t understand why he seems to think that he owns the pool. Like no one else can swim when he needs to. We’re all at the Olympics, we all need to practice so that we can do our best when we actually compete.”

“Maybe he does think that he’s better than you,” Lila shrugged. She was entirely unhelpful when it came to talking Diego out of holes that he tied to dig himself. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that she actively wanted him to get in trouble.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as both of his parents are fucking gold-medal Olympians themselves,” Diego rolled his eyes. It felt a little reverse-classist in a way to call Viktor conceited or claim things that he didn’t know if the other man actually felt. However, he did know that it was going to be easier for Viktor to make himself a name in the world of swimming because his mother had won at least three medals for Russia in her lifetime.

“I think that you just want to fuck him,” Lila shrugged. “Do you remember that boy with the red hair least year that you got in a fight with? You ended up knocking teeth with him so hard in the locker room that we had to go to the dentist.”

“You and Ma are never going to let me forget that,” he groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears and the back of his neck growing warm with embarrassment as he remembered what had happened. He hadn’t meant for the interaction to be so violent, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins from the match that he had just finished and the win that was so close to being within his grasp had made him go absolutely feral. He had ended up at the dentist for a chipped tooth, but it was also one of the better experiences that he had in his life.

Lila cackled, throwing her head back like she was some kind of evil witch. Diego vaguely remembered seeing a picture of her dressed up like that for one Halloween when her parents had actually managed to fly out for one of her competitions. She had fit the bill pretty well, which made him wonder for a moment if that Halloween was the only time that she had ever taken off her costume instead of putting one on. “Why would we let you forget it when it’s one of my favorite things ever? The Handler may have been pissed that I posted it all over my socials but I think that the people deserve to get to see what we’re really like instead of some stupid curated image. We’re not robots.”

“Yeah but she is,” Diego snorted. Lila was semi-protective over her coach but they had known each other long enough that he felt comfortable making statements such as that about the woman. He struggled to find the lines with other people, but Lila wasn’t one of them. She had very few lines drawn in the sand and all of the ones that she did have were closer to brick walls, so they weren’t hard to find.

The other athlete yawned and stretched both of her arms into the air. “I don’t know, her robotics have managed to get me out of several tight spots in the past, maybe she’s got something going for her.”

“I think that she wouldn’t have to get you out of any tight spots if you could just keep all of your clothes on in public,” Diego teased back. If she was going to bring up his kiss-induced dentist visit then he was going to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“That was one time, the other holes she had to dig me out of were me making inappropriate jokes about arrows where reporters could mishear me,” she stated immediately afterwards.

Diego resisted the urge to pout at her reaction. After years and years of friendship he had only managed to get her flustered a couple of times, but that was never going to stop him from trying again and again. Lila let out a semi-wistful sigh, like she was thinking about something that made her happy. “Maybe you should just fuck him and then you can get over whatever it is that’s going on with you,” Lila shrugged. “Then I don’t have to hear about it anymore.”

“I’m not going to fuck him, we’re going against each other in literally the most important tournament in either of our careers,” Diego rolled his eyes. “And you should stop talking about it so that I’m not distracted.”

Lila waved her hand at him dismissively, “There will be other Olympics. I think you should kiss him so that he’s distracted tomorrow.”

---

The locker room was quiet when both of the swimmers entered. They had competed with several other people, but they were the only ones that had peeled away from their coaches so that they could get warmed up before they waited for their results to be in. The room echoed with every step and movement that they both made.

Viktor walked to his locker and tugged out a fresh towel, one that wasn’t already soaked in chlorine. Diego hung back by the door and watched him as he moved. He stepped forward and stuck his hand out in front of the other, “Whoever wins, I just want to say that you did a good job.”

“Thanks, you too,” Viktor replied flatly as he took the gesture and shook. “Just wish that you didn’t have to be such a prick yesterday when I came down to use the pool.”

“Me? You were the one that was acting like I couldn’t be in the same body of water as you,” Diego scoffed. Neither of them noticed the way that their hands were still linked together, their minds racing with a number of other thoughts spurred on by anger, adrenaline, and their proximity to each other.

“Yes, you. You were the one that was taking up two lanes when you should have picked one. That way you could have at least competed with your ego instead of hogging the pool to yourself,” Viktor seethed, taking a step closer to the other swimmer.

“Have you ever considered just talking to someone about what’s going on in that head of yours before you just start saying shit?” Diego asked.

Neither of them were given much opportunity to speak to each other outside of that before their lips were crashing together in a deeply passionate kiss. 

[aarcanespikes]

Stratagem; Beginnings

Masterlist

In which a kind manager chooses the quiet kid to take his place

Warnings: swearing, mature jokes (ie fuck you, maybe later)

Note: remember there is no order to Emi’s story

Emi Akiyama could say with one-hundred percent certainty that she hated loud noises and large crowds. It’s why during lunch she would hide in the old music room with the old piano and guitars that needed tuning, because at least in there only she made a sound…

Except for when Haruki Nakamura strolled into the room one day during her first year (his second). She knew who he was, more than half the school knew who anyone on the volleyball team was even their manager- she admittedly expected him to be cocky or rude from the amount of times she’d seen the teen snarl at others in the hall. But no he gave her a wide thankful smile and collapsed onto the piano stool beside her and smiled.

“I’m Haruki… you must be Emi Akiyama.” She was on guard immediately as he just smiled. “I may have asked around if anyone knew the quiet girl with black hair and pink streaks… thankfully Hitoshi knew ya.”

“Ah…” she said- what else could we say.

“So.” Haruki‘a grin only seemed to widen. “Wanna be friends?”

“You don’t know me?” She said. “Why even bother?”

“I used to hide in here too in my first year- plus you are one of the few people who try to not have anything to do with the team it’s a nice change.”

“I’m not hiding.” She pouted making the brown haired boy laugh.

“Sure…. So Em, can I call you Em? I’m gonna call you Em. Can I join you in here when I want to get away?”

“I can’t stop you.”

“True.” He shrugged. “But what’s the fun in that. I don’t really have a reason to want to be friends- I see that look you have- but I say why not? Get out of your comfort zone.”

“I see… fine we can be… friends.”

“You sound so defeated Em.” He laughed. “So first order of friendship duty… where did you get your hair dyed because that is the nicest shade of pink I have ever seen.” He grinned, she laughed.

“I did it myself… why you wanna go pink too?”

“Fuck yeah I do… reckon we could do something about it?” He said cheekily making Emi roll her eyes.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Later that week when he walked into the school dragging an exasperated Emi Akiyama down the halls towards his friends to show off his new hair and hairdresser- that was the first time she actually met anyone on the volleyball team outside of a roll call in class… it was weird.

“Look at me don’t I look amazing!” Haruki exclaimed. “This little thing here did it isn’t she amazing!”

“Please keep your voice down Haruki.” She whispered as she tried to hide herself behind the tall second year. “People will notice me- let me go.”

“No.”

“Who’s this yer holdin’ captive manager?” A boy with hair parted to the left asked, his eyes grey and bored… good to know she wasn’t a cause of entertainment but to the boy beside him… oh god twins.

“A little friend of mine- look she did my hair! We met Monday last week in the old music room where she was hiding- ow!” The slap to his arm made him pout before it turned into a grin. “Come on Em be nice introduce yourself- you’re in first year too and now that you are my friend you will never escape.”

Emi turned to the second years who had stood quietly the whole time.

“Please save me this man broke into my room and kidnapped me from my home this morning.”

Haruki let go with a gasp of disbelief- and she was off, out the door and down the hall to begin her Monday classes.

It was maybe a month after that when Kita from the volleyball team came looking for her with Aran by his side looking a little awkward- Haruki had announced her lunch spot after all so why wouldn’t someone else appear…. It had only been five months since the year began and she was doing so well avoiding people until Haruki came along. Gods above ever since her second year in middle school she avoided people like the plague… people thought she was weird.

“Hi?” She asked, not quite sure why either was here.

“I’m Kita, we have briefly met a few times because of Haruki.” She nodded. “I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with my hair- Haru said you’re very good with dyes and hair maintenance.”

“I suppose? I just dyed his hair so he’d leave me alone really.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“I see sorry if I’ve been of any inconvenience.”

“No.” She said before she could stop herself. “It’s fine I’ll help. Do you wanna keep the style you have now?”

“Yes if that’s okay. It’s just annoying to maintain the colour when I’m busy with training for tournaments.” Kita answered.

“He’s weirdly attentive about his hair.” Aran laughed. The bell for next period rang at the same time.

“Okay okay. When you are free message me or get Haruki to about what products you use and the dye brand I’ll see what I can find.” She said before rushing off.

It took another two months before Haruki decided to drag the first year team members to her house… she regrets giving him her address every day.

“Heyyyyy.”

“Go away.” She said shutting the door before it flung back open- fuck sake why did her mother give him a spare key?

“Come on Em!” Haruki pouted. “You need friends.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Make me.”

“I am.”

“Fuck.”

“Language Em!“ Haruki gasped as she begrudgingly let the Miya Twins, Suna, Kosaku and Ginjima inside with the pink haired boy.

“Hi Akiyama.” Ginjima greeted. “Sorry about Haruki again.”

“Eh I’ll live.” She shrugged. “Why are you guys here?”

“Miya twins wanted to dye there hair- where else would we go?” Haruki interjected.

“A hairdresser.” Suna answered as he stared down at his phone.

“Yeah but Em is better- see it’s been two months and my hair is still pretty and pink:”

Em just sighed before guiding them all towards the kitchen.

“Grab a chair each I’ll have to bleach however much of your hair you want me too.”

“Thanks Akiyama.” Osamu said as he passed the bag of hair dyes towards her.

“Yeah thanks Em.” Atsumu added. There was a silence that fell between the group as the dark haired girl turned to Haruki.

“I let you call me Em because I can’t stop you from doing shit stop making me out to be friendly.” She said before taking the bag from Osamu and turning to the sink, muttering as she did.

“You’re like a feral cat Em.”

“Suck my dick Haruki.”

“You’re not my type.”

“Who’s what colour?” Emi asks.

“Blonde for me please.” Atsumu said.

“Grey for me. We both want our undercuts to stay dark though if that’s not too much.”

“Nah that’s easy enough. You’ll be the ones taking care of it.” She said with a wave, back still turned to the group. “The rest of you can watch Tv or use the x-box if you want, I don’t have any multiplayer games though.”

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

In the beginning of her first year Emi Akiyama would have told you that she hated groups of people and loud noises… she still dislikes both, still hates loud noises but groups… she can deal with them now in the last week of the school year.

She can deal with the shrill voices of her schoolmates talking behind her back about her friendship with the volleyball team. It’s tentative at most because she dyes their hair and doesn’t get mad at Atsumu when he says something stupid (like yelling for her in the halls when she’s trying to go have lunch. She even lets the twins walk her home since they don’t live that far from her (Let’s is a loose term more like they rush from practice to meet her in the library).

“Heyo Em.” Haruki greeted as she left her last class for they day. “Reckon you can help me with some paperwork stuff this afternoon instead of going to the library?”

“Why?”

“There’s a couple things in English for some reason and I suck at it.”

“Why would you have English on paperwork you write?”

“No I didn’t write these ones! It’s some Western training styles, figured the boys would be interested.”

“What’s the difference between Western and Japanese volleyball?” She asked. Haruki froze before gripping her wrist and dragging her along towards the gym.

“Okay here guys!” The pink hair teen yelled as he dragged Emi towards the volleyball team.

“Akiyama? She agreed? What did Haruki do?” She heard the team whisper and even the third years looked at him suspiciously.

“Of course she agreed.” He exclaimed proudly.

“Emi!” Atsumu greeted with a large grin before pulling her into a hug (she learnt a month ago that when either twin gives a hug to just let it happen). “Glad you agreed.”

“… Haruki what exactly did I agree to because I’m certain you said you needed help with paperwork?”

Emi was suddenly flung back, Atsumu’s hands on her shoulders shaking her slightly as his eyes watered. She shot Osamu a look of concern and he just frowned at her.

“To be our other manager.” Suna said since no one else was answering her.

“Yeah no.” She deadpanned.

“Please Em!” Haruki begged.

“You have other people you talk to?”

“But Em please! You’ve seen my paperwork skills I do actually need help plus you haven’t joined a club yet soooooo.”

“I know shit all about Volleyball.” She deadpanned further (if that is possible) as Atsumu continued to give her puppy eyes.

“But you know our boys.”

With one more look towards the puppy like setter Emi let out a defeated sigh and suddenly found herself wrapped into another hug by Atsumu.

“Fine… but you better not pull a stunt like this again or I never helping you again.”

“But you love me Em-”

“Like hell I do pig head.”

“Such a blossoming romance between us all Em.” Haruki snickered before rushing out of the gym. She couldn’t even run after him with the death hold the older Miya had on her. “Romance isn’t dead boys!” He yells finally as the door shuts with a loud bang.

“I can’t believe we finally got you to officially hang out with us.” Ginjima snickered as she glared at the group like a grumpy kitten.

“This is great, reckon you can move your face just a little Tsumu, wanna keep this picture forever.” Suna smirked as he took photos of the two.

“Em is officially ours.” Osamu joked, an evil laugh following with a large portion of the team joining in.

“I hate all of you.”

“No you don’t.” Atsumu teased as he held her in place. “You love us dearly. Why else would you agree to be our manager.”

“I was bamboozled.”

“Admit it you love us.” Atsumu smirked.

“Over my cold dead body.”

“No.”

“Fuck you.” She spat.

“Maybe when we’re older.” The team laughed (whoever said that when she finds them she’ll-). Kita, Aran and the third years just shook their heads.

“Someone kill me.” Emi begged.

“Nope.” The team chorused.

“Anyway wanna know who the new captain is Akiyama?” Ginjima asked, finally pulling the girl away from the infamous Miya hug.

“Who is it? Wait I want to guess.” She hummed before turning to Kita. “It’s you yeah?” Said boy blinked in surprise.

“Yes.”

“Knew it.”

“How-”

“He makes the most sense.” She shrugged. “Now can I go I have to cook dinner tonight.”

“Oh yeah. See you tomorrow after school Akiyama / Emi!” The team said happily with a wave as she scooted out of the building.

“I’m gonna kill Haruki next time I see that pink haired fuck.” She growled as she stalked towards the school gate.

“Hey Em wait up!” She turned, damn she was hoping they forgot.

“We gotta walk you home it’s tradition.” Atsumu said proudly.

“Can’t let our manager wander around without her friends now can we.” Osamu added. With another defeated sigh she smiled.

“Yeah okay whatever, don’t blame me for you missing todays practice.”

“Wouldn’t for the world.” They chimed.

“Come on then idiots.”

“Hey!”

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

Rhubarb and/ or sunset!! For the fic ask meme

a favorite snippet of dialogue

I have many, so one from my most recent completed fic and one that I haven't published yet, how about?

from Rise to the Tops of the Trees:

Grian snorted. "No, best get it done soon before I chicken out, right?" Jimmy fell silent for a long moment. "...Tim?" Grian ventured. "Was..." Jimmy made a small strangled noise, "was that a bird pun?" Pearl burst out laughing as Grian spluttered indignantly. "Not intentionally, you lunatic! Go! Drive safe! Get off my phone!"

And for the unpublished one... there's nothing that actually goes with this, it just came to me wholecloth and I had to write it down.

"Statement of GoodTimesWithScar, on an encounter with a pyromaniac. Statement Begins." "So now can I tell you about it?" "Don't you sound so exasperated, you're the one who didn't think it was potentially supernatural that someone attacked you by setting themselves on fire and survived it." "Listen, weird things happen! I'm not going to judge someone based on their ability to survive self-immigration!" "Oh my god."

a chunk of description that I’m proud of

So... I tend to write dialogue more than I write memorable descriptions, so idk if this is so much description as just narration/prose that I'm pleased with, but this part in raised by wolves and voices is just still very delightful to me:

Nobody in their cohort liked Lambert. They brought him a few weeks after Julian made a decision in the dandelion patch. He shouted and screamed and had bitten two full-grown witchers and cussed like he was a grown up (a really rude one), not like an 8-year-old. He snarled at the other boys and tried to kick the door open after they'd been put in the dormitories for the night with the door locked so he couldn't get out and get in trouble, like they did with a lot of the new boys, and he basically disrupted everything for half a week until their minders had given up and put him in a private room, where he'd at least be less likely to disturb people. Julian thought he was the best.

Aaaaand ngl I'm a sucker for the opening of Rise to the Tops of the Trees, I'm just very pleased with it.

When he was 16, Grian fell in with a bad crowd. Well, that wasn't really fair. Really what happened was that when he was 16, his best friend got caught up with a sadistic murderer in the body of a teenaged boy named Sam and Grian got caught up in their wake. For a few months, Grian's life stopped making sense, and by the time it was over he had scars, a disability, an arrest record, an expulsion, and enough trauma to fill years of therapy, if he ever went. He did not go to therapy, incidentally, but at least he was self-aware enough to admit he probably should.