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strayed-quokka · 2 years

Text

his last song || pt 6 || hwang hyunjin

» summary: it was your last year wherein a stroke of luck determined whether or not you could be sent to your likely death. and of course, the last year is when fate tries to play the cruellest game. for not only is it you, but your best friend’s name is caught in the hands of the woman selecting who’s to face their death. and not only that, but a certain career has his eyes set on you, and you doubt that’s a good thing.

» pairing: career hyunjin x district 10 reader ft. district 10 jisung & mentor minho (platonically)

» rating: 16+ for depictions of violence

» genre: hunger games au, fluff, angst, weak enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, unrequited love

» warnings: mentions of violence, reader and jisung breakdown, minho is moody still (more than before), hyunjin keeps threatening reader with death, alcohol consumption

» words: 4,699

» previous chapter

» a/n: i have no excuse for why this took so long other than i’ve been doing really badly mentally. i’m really sorry. also this chapter tugs at my heartstrings so brace yourselves lmao... next chapter we finally move on to... well... the actual damn arena. only took 7 chapters (originally i only wanted it to take 5 chapters but i wanted to establish relationships between characters and that apparently took like... 50+ pages in my documents).

You were one step closer to your death. The thought wasn’t a peaceful one. It was turbulent, a chaotic melancholy tearing you apart every day as your heart wanted to give in to defeat. Yet you refused to let it. There was nothing you could change about what you’d already done, so you did your best to make peace with whatever results you may get from the gamemaker’s.

If they’d wanted to punish you in death before the games, they would’ve done so by now. You could breathe.

“I say a six. Maybe Jisung will push a seven. Right?” Minho looks between you both, Daehyeon on the couch with his sketchbook again and Seokhwa half asleep beside him. He looked gloomier today, or maybe he was just tired. You suppose you didn’t look much better, maybe even worse.

Who were you kidding, you definitely looked worse next to someone as elegant as him.

“I can never tell if you’re complimenting us or insulting us.”

“It’s a bit of both,” comes Daehyeon’s reply to Jisung, just as Ceasar appears on the TV, ready to give out the scores.

“What do you think you’ll get?” Jisung whispers to you, hand on your knee to stop it from shaking up and down as you sit there. If you’re entirely honest, you have no idea what score you may get. All you presented to the gamemaker’s was a recklessness that could either be admired or hated. You didn’t see a grey area in how this could go.

“Maybe… four?” though it’s more a question than an answer.

“No, I’d guess a seven for her, maybe eight,” Seokhwa speaks up, now laying in his blue haired friends lap to rest whilst staring at the screen that is going through the district one career, a male who’s incredibly muscular and from what you remember when seeing him train, incredibly strong.

“That’s generous. Especially from you,” Minho replies, finally taking his own seat.

“Yeah,” Seokhwa looks at you then, a small smile on his lips as if he knows something more, “but I think she manages better than you think.”

There’s a lull, a short break in where no one speaks, if just from sheer surprise that he seems to think far more highly of you than even you would’ve expected.

“How do you know what I think?” Minho’s eyes are colder, less impressed but the young man with peach coloured hair isn’t phased. Minho can’t intimidate him, at least you don’t think he can, and it’s something you wish you could mirror.

“Don’t underestimate someone simply because you think they’re weaker than you,” he sits up, back straight as he looks at your mentor dead in the eye, “it may be your greatest mistake if you do.”

“A ten,” everyone’s attention moves from the two men in the room towards the TV, seeing Hyunjin with his score. It’s incredibly high, usually as high as it goes and whilst it’s a result that proves he’s someone you should stay clear from, it also makes you want to ask what he’d done to earn it.

“Wonder what he did,” Jisung takes the words right from you, and then the waiting game begins. Minho is writing something down, you presume the scores and making mental notes of odds and tactics, and maybe you should rush to do the same. He’s not the one playing, yet out of everyone in the room, he behaves as if he is the most.

“He scored higher than I would’ve thought,” it’s Daehyeon now, referring to district 5’s male, maybe your age with incredibly sweet features. Jaemin.

“If you’re going to pair up into groups, he’s a good bet. Doesn’t get on with his district partner so he’s likely traveling alone.”

“But what if he just wants to kill us?” Jisung asks, a probable scenario that both of you are thinking about.

“It’s two to one. He’s an interesting one. Not the weakest but not the strongest. I’d take my chances with him. Even if it’s just to save your own life.”

“You want them to throw this boy to the wolves?” Daehyeon asks, and whilst he sounds unimpressed, he doesn’t look it as much. Like Minho, it doesn’t really bother him, and for just a moment you wonder what emotions Daehyeon portrays are real and what may all be pretend.

Maybe he fit the capital far better than you’d ever want to admit, given that you really liked him as a person.

“If it means it’s not them, yeah,” Minho says it so casually, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world to you, and all you come up with is the exact response he wants, but nearly didn’t expect.

“Okay.”

“Y/N!” Jisung hits your shoulder, forcing you to look at him, and he’s disappointed. Not because he doesn’t understand why, but because he doesn’t want you to risk anything stupid.

Little did he know you’d already risked a lot.

“Han Jisung,” all of you stare at the screen again, Nerium walking into the room as if she’d timed it perfectly, and you briefly acknowledge her presence, “an eight.”

There’s cheering, mostly from Seokhwa and Daehyeon who both stand and pull Jisung up with them, hugging him tight while Minho stares blankly ahead. There’s a smile on your face as they make space to invite you into the hug, and you let yourself get dragged into something warm and comfortable, you never want to let go of any of them.

Maybe it’s absurd, to nearly see Seokhwa and Daehyeon as your friends. It had only been a few days, but emotions were heightened in the face of death, and if Minho wasn’t going to congratulate either of you, at least they were ensuring that you knew someone was proud.

“Better than expected,” Daehyeon ruffles his hair, awfully cheerful until Seokhwa shoves him away.

“Hey! I have to fix that,” your vision blurs to them, fixated on Minho now. He doesn’t say anything. All he does is write something down, but you see how his hand is shaking. He’s not focusing and a sorrow breaks through him that he can’t hide. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t cry, for you know Minho isn’t one for emotion, but you can also tell that he likely would be if he was alone.

“A nine,” Seokhwa jumps up on the couch, absolutely elated and cheering, and it takes a while for you to notice that they’d been talking about you. It was you who’d gotten that score, and suddenly you’re being tackled on the couch by the same people who’d been hugging you for Jisung’s points seconds ago.

“Let’s open some champagne!” Seokhwa cries out in glee, and even Nerium seems to agree from where she’s standing.

Though as elated and disbelieving as you are from the high of your score, it’s all torn out from under you when Minho slams his notes down and walks away, a slam of a door heard not long after that’s so loud, you feel the floor shake in response.

“Ignore him,” Jisung whispers, moving a strand of hair behind your ear and it makes you tremble. It should be easy to ignore, to pretend it doesn’t bother you. That what Minho thinks doesn’t actually matter. But to you it does. As impolite as he could be, you did look up to him. He’d won the games. He knew how to play.

You were letting him down. And it was incredibly hard to just let that go.

“So, we just have to befriend someone two days before we’re sent into a deadly arena where that same person has to kill us. You know, sometimes I really don’t know what Minho is thinking-”

“He’s thinking of how to survive. He wouldn’t have without Hyunjin’s sister. Maybe he thinks we won’t without someone either.”

Jisung sighs, standing quiet as the two of you take the elevator down to the training center. There was an odd tension between you now, maybe because your approach to the situation at hand was very different, but you weren’t about to bring it up. If you caused a fight just a few days before the games, your odds would lower considerably.

“How do you want to approach him?”

“I say watch him first. See what he does, if he’s working on his own or with someone. Feel it out. Then approach him.” you nod, stepping out into the hallway with your best friend right behind you.

“I might try climbing today. I’ve seen Hyunjin do it a lot.”

“Why do you care what Hyunjin does?” Jisung is immediately on alert and it bothers you instantly, though you knew it was completely justifiable. Hyunjin was dangerous to you both. He’d continue to be so. You having a few conversations with him, no matter how civil, wouldn’t change that.

“I don’t. But knowing how to climb may be useful.”

“Alright how about this. We just keep an eye on him today. See what he does. Maybe I’ll approach him after a few hours. We just can’t force it or draw any suspicion.”

“Why don’t you ask him to partner with you for a round on the mats. You know, fight it out?”

“That’s… actually kinda genius,” Jisung admits, for it would make sense. Partnering up with tributes to fight one on one wasn’t unheard of or very unusual.

When you arrive, the two of you separate and you immediately look up at the ceiling, seeing the fabric that would hold you up and away from the ground. It doesn’t look that secure, but if it can hold Hyunjin, it should hold you fine.

You just wondered where the hell he even climbed up.

You wander around, seeing what some of the tributes are up to, and you realise that it’s the first time you really pay attention to them. Maybe you should’ve been studying their movements ages ago.

“You know, you’re so obvious. It’s almost pathetic,” you hear his voice, know it already within just a few days, but you don’t see him anywhere. He’s not behind you, nor is he in front of you or next to you, and it’s only when you hear him laugh that you decide to lift your head up.

He’s grinning, almost manically as his feet rest on the fabric beneath him, his one hand holding what you think is the very knife you used just yesterday to make a point, the other holding himself steady by gripping onto the ropes by his shoes.

You decide to ignore him, something that doesn’t bode well with him, and it’s scary to realise how quickly he moves up there without falling, for he’s back in front of you in seconds, hanging upside down as he sends you a mocking wave in greeting.

“I must say, one point off from me sweetheart, I nearly fell in love,” he lifts himself up, twisting his body around before jumping down and onto the ground, right before you, “wonder why they decided that.”

“Why don’t you ask them?” It’s humorous to you, how thinking about him when he’s not there always has you curious to speak to him again, yet whenever he’s around, you yearn to get away from him.

“Hmm, don’t think I will,” you go to walk away, wondering where the hell Jisung went when you separated (though you think he’s conveniently or inconveniently behind the wall that you’re standing by), but the threat of a knife to your collarbone stops you, “at least tell me if this whole act is a game or really what you’re like.”

He leans against the wall, retracting the knife as you stare at him, unsure of how to answer. Maybe you weren’t physically the strongest and mentally you were being thrown left and right, but something in his words pisses you off. Yet just as you go to speak, he interrupts again, “I just don’t understand how you went from such an easy kill to something to chase, sweetheart.”

What scares you most about Hyunjin, you realise, isn’t in his appearance, nor in the way he’s able to so easily sneak up on just about anyone. It’s in his words, the threats and taunts, but it’s also in his confidence to really end your life, his nonchalance to it and that he simply doesn’t care. At least he doesn’t seem to. But you don’t want him to know truly how uneasy it makes you.

So you ask him something that he’d never expected.

“Do you want to train with me?”

It shocks you both, the simplicity of the question and what it means. It’s the only time you expect to ever see him rendered speechless in the little time you’ll know him.

You don’t like the guilt that comes with that. Though if you were to ensure Jisung comes home, it meant dying. So you assume that the loss of Hyunjin wouldn’t be remembered by you anyway if you were six feet under.

“What do you suggest we do, princess?”

“That sounds horribly condescending.”

“My bad, I’ll improve my manners in your last few days,” how considerate you think, though you still shiver at the thought. Twenty three people were living out their last days in the room you were in.

“I want to climb.”

“Do you know how?”

“No. But I know you do,” he sighs, though he must admit that something about you amuses him more than it frustrates him. Sure, to him you were a weakness and he didn’t care much for your survival, but unlike the first day he’d seen you, now he was more curious.

There was something else to you. If anything, he believed that if you were pushed into a corner just enough, that you’d snap into something that might actually become a threat to at least some of the tributes around him.

“Alright, I’ll show you how to climb. I’ll show you whatever you want. But I want something from you,” you nearly scoff, but instead you look away, arms crossed until he grabs your chin with his hand, and suddenly you’re staring right into his eyes.

They’re the darkest shade of brown you’ve seen and yet whilst many claim that eyes are the window into the very being you’re looking at, his tell you absolutely nothing. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, yet you feel like he can tell everything about you from simply staring back.

“When I eventually come after you…” he leans closer, so close that he’s right in your space. He’s warm and there’s a hint of cologne that lingers, and if he wasn’t gripping your chin so tight, you’d fight harder to look away, “put what I taught you to use. Don’t make it easy for me.”

And for the first time, his threats don’t scare you the way they should. His promise of your death doesn’t make you want to crumble to the floor. It’s the first time that you feel a fire light within you, and you smile at him, “don’t worry, I don’t plan to.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even up there yet!” his annoyance captures the attention of other tributes, though one look in their direction and most of them turn away again. It nearly makes you laugh, the way his arms are on his hips and he’s huffing in frustration similarly to how Jisung would pout at you when you’d say something absurd.

“It’s harder than I thought!” you retaliate, mustering up the strength you have in your upper body to lift it up and finally push your knees up onto the fabrics of black rope to crawl across.

“You don’t have that type of time when someone’s on your tail,” he sounds like Minho. Hell, when you really think about it, the two share a lot of attributes alike. The difference in them was that whilst Minho’s attitude towards you came from a will to keep you alive, Hyunjin was the opposite. At least that’s what you’d assumed.

“I’ll go again.”

“You just got up there,” but you’re already halfway down, and Hyunjin comes up beside you, “alright, we both climb up. See how much slower you are.”

You huff, looking up at the wall you need to climb again, and maybe you should’ve listened and just stayed up there.

“You better have a very good explanation for this one, Y/N,” it’s Jisung, a frown on his features and you know how unhappy he is. Nothing in you blames him for it either, but right now, you only see the benefits of learning how to use the strength you have.

“Ah, the so called best friend, you wanna join?”

“No, I don’t,” he’s staring right at you, ignoring Hyunjin entirely, “I’ve been looking for you. Do you remember what we talked about? Have you done any of it?”

His sudden anger takes you aback. The two of you had disagreements before, but never did he approach you with such hostility. It was another reminder that the games were taking away qualities that made you and Jisung uniquely yourselves. It hadn’t even started, yet both of you had already lost the playful nature in which you’d interacted with just days before.

“I… no. I haven’t.”

“Right, I wonder why,” his words are bitter, venomous both to you and the man behind you, and it’s the first moment you truly think that something broke between the two of you.

“Ji, it’s not what you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear anything from you right now. You want to fucking die, go ahead.”

“Hey, that’s just unnecessary,” Hyunjin leaping to your defence is unexpected, but you welcome it. For right now, you don’t have anything else you can say. You feel guilty, yet you’re not sure you’ve done anything wrong either as you watch Jisung push past you both without a second glance, “yikes, trouble in paradise?”

“Just… not now. Okay?” you hide the way your voice shakes, the way you blink back your tears, but the career next to you is so annoyingly observant that nothing slips past him. He knows how it hurts you, and whilst it’s to his advantage that you’re breaking down, it still bothers him.

“Alright,” he agrees, standing up straight, “but don’t cry. I don’t need to see that again.”

He moves further away, a good five meters away from you, “I’ll give you a head start. Not a big one but it’ll give you something.”

For a very small moment, you’re grateful that he ignores the pain you’re in. And you’re grateful he’s not using it to mock you. He’s pretending it doesn’t exist, and so you try to do the same.

“Ready… 3… 2… 1… go!”

“Alright, neither of you idiots are at the dinner table. Minho isn’t at the table. Nerium is insufferable to listen to and-”

“Hwa,” it’s strange, to not hear his full name leave your lips, and he can’t decide if he likes it or hates it yet, given that the way you speak it is so horribly depressing.

“Do you want Daehyeon instead?”

“Cause I’m here,” he comes up behind Seokhwa, making you chuckle as the two approach you quietly.

“Can I sit?” Daehyeon asks, and you nod whilst Seokhwa takes a seat on the floor before you, “consider yourself royalty. I’ve never seen Seokhwa get on the floor for anyone.”

“It’s true. I’m only doing it because I know the cleaners were here earlier,” you laugh quietly, staring at your fingers. It’s silent, none of you saying a word.

“Shouldn’t one of you check on Jisung?”

“Don’t worry, he’s next on the list of patients,” you’re so very grateful for how they make you smile, but you also know that they’re worried and likely wondering why everyone seems to be furthest away from each other.

“So, why did you two argue?”

“How did you know that?” Seokhwa scoffs, placing his hands on your knees as he rests his chin on one of his knuckles.

“Please, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

“You don’t have to act like such a smartass all the time, you know,” Daehyeon intervenes, crossing his legs over each other to make himself more comfortable.

“Don’t be mean to him,” you tease your stylist, earning you a playful glare that eventually breaks into a beautiful smile.

“I doubt it can be that bad-”

“I’ve been talking to Hyunjin…” you interrupt Daehyeon, awaiting their response. Actually, you wait for them to yell at you, to tell you how incredibly stupid you’re being or that whatever happened, Jisung is entirely in the right. You wait for them to tell you that they’re completely on his side.

But none of that happens. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. If them saying nothing is their silent disappointment in you, and suddenly you want to make excuses to justify it.

“We kinda knew,” Daehyeon starts, “at least we figured when he was here yesterday.”

“You saw him?”

“Saw, overheard. All the same. When I heard about what you did with the gamekeepers, I had to make sure Seokhwa wouldn’t start laughing and give us away.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone in my life,” Seokhwa laughs, and it makes your heart flutter and gives you the reassurance you need that you can tell them the rest.

“I trained with Hyunjin too,” you start, as if it’s also shameful and something meant to be hidden, “he’s good at climbing. I figured I’d give it a shot and ask if he could show me. I actually… I did alright, you know? Took a few hours but...”

Hyunjin himself had seemed awfully proud, despite getting up quicker than you even with your head start. Once the two of you were up there, you fell into a rhythm of conversation as he helped you manoeuvre around. He reluctantly showed you how to observe, told you what to look for in all the tributes below whilst purposely leaving out just enough to not tell you all that he knew, and it had almost made you forget that Jisung and you were breaking down. You only really remembered when you saw Jaemin from afar.

“I know Jisung is probably just worried. I mean… I know Hyunjin wants to kill me. I know he will.”

“Don’t say that-”

“But it’s true. Daehyeon, I’m not stupid. He’s targeted me and I know it. Of course I do. There’s nothing left for me to lose though, aside from my best friend. So if I can learn something, anything, that’ll help me get Jisung home then… why the hell not? Why not learn it from him?”

There’s a hand on your back, rubbing soothing patterns whilst Seokhwa is looking up at you with a frown, making himself look even more youthful and innocent than he already was. It makes you want to cry again, wondering about the last time you’ll see all of them.

When will you last see Minho give you a snarky insult about the games? When is the last time Daehyeon will give you something to wear? When will Seokhwa see you for the last time with such an innocence that holds so much strength and attitude in someone so young?

And when will you last see Jisung?

“Hey, hey… listen… you just have to talk to him. Just tell him exactly that. He may not like it, but I doubt he won’t understand. He loves you a lot more than I think you know. This isn’t something that’ll change anything.”

“Seokhwa’s right. Talk to him.”

“Also saves me from having to walk into another depressing situation,” Seokhwa sighs, but you know his words aren’t actually meant. If anything, you think he’d do it over and over again, oversee you both until you feel better.

“We still have Minho to talk to though,” Daehyeon adds while you rest against him, thoughts of your best friend clouding your mind.

“Right,” the man before you stands up, readjusting his incredibly elegant dress shirt, “make sure to grab some food okay? You really need it.”

You knock on Jisung’s door with two full plates of food, desperately hoping he’ll answer but not hearing anything. So you dare to glance inside, seeing his figure sat on the balcony in one of the chairs, staring straight ahead, looking like the entire world is weighing him down.

“Ji?” you step outside, but he only acknowledges your presence by moving his head to show that he heard you, “I brought you food.”

You put it on the table next to him, placing your own plate on the ground as you sit, choosing to be right across from him rather than next to him on the other free chair.

“Why are you really here?” He’s seen right through you, you suppose. Jisung knows better than to think that’s all you came for.

“I’m here because I love you. You’re my best friend. And I don’t want to go into this thinking you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know you’re worried. I’m worried. I’m sorry I didn’t look for Jaemin like we said. And I’m sorry that I’ve been speaking to Hyunjin-”

“Y/N,” you stop, looking up at him slowly. His eyes are sad, but what worries you more is how they seem to just… want to give up, “if you want to talk to Hyunjin, I can’t say anything. I don’t like it, but I don’t choose it. I’m just… I’m so scared.”

Jisung lifts his knees up to his chest, making himself even smaller than he’d seemed sat out here alone, and you feel horrible, “I’m so scared for you. I don’t care if I die. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I don’t care if it means you live. But I see him and I just… I know the danger you’re in and that I’m entirely helpless to do anything about it. And that scares me so fucking much that I can’t… I can’t do it. I can’t fucking go through this with you!”

You don’t know what to say. All you can do is cry with him, pulling him down into your arms while you both crumble, and he’s gripping you so tight that in this moment, you’re so afraid of ever letting him go.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs weakly against you, for he knows that really, you have nothing to apologise for. It’s everyone else around you, it’s the reaping that drew your name and then drew him right after. It’s the fact that you can’t keep your promise to each other of being the victor for it meant losing the other.

“I was angry because I… I’m trying so hard to keep you alive. I watched Jaemin constantly. What he does, how he works. I spoke to him. You just threw that away. I listen to so much of Minho’s heartless bullshit because it may actually mean you have a shot. And I just… when I saw Hyunjin it just felt like I was doing it for nothing.”

“I understand. I didn’t… to be honest, I didn’t think of it like that at all,” though it was cruel and ironic, that everything you’d been doing and trying to learn was for Jisung, and everything he’d been doing was for you.

“Y/N… I’m so afraid,” it breaks your heart to hear him admit it, making fresh tears fall down your cheeks and onto his shoulder. You wish so bad to run away, but that meant even more certain death than the hunger games themselves.

“I know. Me too, Ji. I’m terrified,” he moves his head back, resting his forehead against yours as he lets out a trembling breath of air.

“It’s just two more days,” though you already know that. You’ve been counting the days yourself, the minute you’re lifted up and watched by all the districts as you hope to survive.

The minute that you and Jisung are meant to become enemies.

Until the inevitable minute that one of you loses the other.

|| masterlist ||

any comments or feedback please let me know cause also idk how i feel with some of this chapter but it’s been dusting away for two months so... 💜 also like... i don’t wanna pull a twilight on this but like... are people team jisung or hyunjin? also don’t ask me why i decided to put na jaemin through this i adore him so like... idk why i hurt myself like this...

taglist: @crispy-chan, @hyunjinspark, @geniejunn, @she-wintersoldat, @a-person-with-void, aletacroker

next chapter

#skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #skz han #straykidsland #series #hunger games au #skz minho #skz felix #wei daehyeon #wei seokhwa #nct jaemin

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ramonag-if · 1 year

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Hey, I do not know how I missed your game for so long but I'm very glad to have found it now! It is written brilliantly, I came for the romance and stayed for both the romance and the engaging story. Everytime I thought I knew where it was going there was a new discovery to make. It also works so well with all the different choices you implemented - I had to stop several times to think about how my MC would react. That was especially interesting for me when meeting Salyra. I like to play MC as being really sweet and had planned to reunite with Salyra but I couldn't. My MC (and me) felt very conflicted about Salyra but eventually allowed herself to feel sad and angry and that was a character development in my MC that I did not expect but really liked! And I'm very happy that the Vinia family is there to show MC that there is a way for a family to be loving and affectionate without hurting those around you.

You really succeeded in capturing all those feelings, the lows were really hitting low but I adored the happy and fluffy moments, especially with the love interests, and it made me smile.

On topic of the romance: I loved it. My favourite was Irus, I didn't think I would be into the prince and wasn't going for him originally but... I was absolutely smitten. I loved to see how MC and Irus learn to trust each other and then the small sweet touches to the kisses (and more 😌) were so good. His romance is so well integrated and intertwined with the plot too. Oh and I also really liked that flirty MC is matched by his own bold energy. And even if they say it teasingly they absolutely mean to follow Irus to the end of time - it was really tugging at my heartstrings.

I also loved that you made it possible to interact with Crown several times, it was so sweet! I do have a wish here though: Could you make it possible to get another horse so that Crown will not be alone while travelling with MC and companions? Horses are herd animals and very social creatures, so I'd love for Crown to get a companion of his own. Also I know he is a fantasy horse and especially strong but I can't help thinking it would be nicer for him to not carry the weight of two people all the time (I did enjoy the riding scenes with Irus a lot though 💕). Also I'd like to add for the descriptions that a horse's nose is usually not wet except when they have been drinking or feeding on something wet. I don't want to overstep and I hope I didn't "horsegirl" too much but I wanted to share my thoughts on this, especially because I love that you made Crown not just a mount but a companion!

Thank you so much for sharing your work, your writing style is so good to read and I'm really engaged in the characters and story, I'm looking forward to read more. I'm sending greetings and wish you a nice day dear author! ☺️💐

Thank you so much for playing and I'm really happy that you're enjoying the game 😊

I'm so pleased that so many players who like playing sweet characters rethought the way they were going to treat Salyra. She is a very complicated character with a lot of baggage that's going to make you rethink your responses 😂

It's so strange to know that a lot of players weren't going to go for Irus as an RO because originally, he was the main RO in the story concept and so much of the plot initially revolved around him. He's probably the most fleshed-out but it's only since I love writing his character so much. I'm really glad you're enjoying his route!

Crown was never meant to be a recurring feature in the game. When I write that scene about Irus revealing his name, I think players suddenly fell in love and if it weren't for players asking for more scenes with Crown, I'd never have included so much interaction with him 😂 Thank you for the nose detail. I'm most definitely not a horse girl (I rode them a few times in high school) but I'm used to general pets like dogs and cats so I'm used to wet noses. Ill be fixing these during edits.

Thank you again for supporting the game and I'm really thankful for your kind words 💖

#crown of exile #answered asks #thank you

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dreamerdoesthewritething · 1 year

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[This has nothing to do with my other Leon x Reader works. I just need something comforting rn. And I'm writing in first person. Because it might as well be a self-insert hahaha... :') ]

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

Please, Just Hold Me

I miss him.

He has a very important job, which takes him away from me so often. Not his fault. Not his choice. He got dealt a shit hand in life and does the best he can with what he has. I shouldn't complain. I haven't suffered nearly as much. He's suffered so much and yet he's able to keep going without doubting his every move.

I wish I could be more like him and less like me.

Honestly, I don't deserve him. I'm grateful for him choosing me, for his love, for his lowered standards letting me be his one and only. A man as great and perfect as him settling for a woman as painfully underwhelming as me...I don't understand it, but it's the one good thing I got going for me.

Nothing's happened. Nothing in particular. Yet today feels...hard. Harder than it has been. I hardly want to get out of bed, even though I barely do anything once I'm up. I need to shower, but I somehow lack the energy and mental motivation to pick out some clothes and stand under the hot water. It's not easy to explain why I'm like this. All I know is I've been unwell for most of my life. At least since fifth grade, though officially diagnosed at thirteen. But it's all in my head. All in my head and affecting every other aspect of my life.

Damn, I could really use something right now.

No, not something. Someone.

But he's not here. He's gone away on a mission for the people. He can't tell me much about it, but he promised to come home safe to me as soon as he can. I hope that's sooner rather than later. I hope he returns in one piece, safe and sound. Not just for me, but for him. More for him than me. He doesn't belong to me, after all.

I do belong to him, though. He doesn't claim I do, but I do.

I've never been more at home than I am with him. You see, people try to say home is a place, a building, where you live. It's not. Or, it's not only where you live. It's where you belong. A feeling, not simply tethered to some inanimate shelter or objects. People make a home just as well.

And he is my home.

I think he's still looking for his, however. I wish I could be his. But I don't feel I'm good enough to be more than a paperweight in the office of his home. Or an old, forgotten, dusty bookend on a shelf in that very same office. Just being able to be in the same space as him is enough for me...usually.

Not today, though. Even if we were in the same room, I'd need more. I'd need him to be closer in the same space, as in right up against me, right up against me until we're almost one and the same. Not in a sexy way. In a "I'm a touch-starved loser who needs physical comfort" way. Maybe later in a sexy way, if I'm feeling less gross and still need some kind of release.

But first, I need him here.

I'll stare at the ceiling, roll onto my side, cuddle up to my old blue whale stuffed animal that's a bit ratty but has been in my life for longer than my love, close my eyes, pretend I'm actually where I belong. In his arms, in deep slumber, or even dead. Not sure which yet. It'll happen when it happens, and then I'll know the answer. I won't cry. It takes a lot in real life to bring on the waterworks. Fiction and stressful video games have a slightly easier time. They know how to tug on the heartstrings and wash away the levies holding back the rivers without much trouble, because the minds behind them are trained to create such masterful work with little trouble.

There's sound from the front door. A key in the lock. A twist of the knob. It opens and closes quietly. The door is locked again. Footfalls approach our room. Another closed and locked door. I'll have to get up to change that. Let him in. Let him come.

It's so hard pushing myself to stand up from the bed, though if someone saw it, they wouldn't think so. They would just assume I'm lazy, I'm sure. Maybe I am. I turn the lock and twist the knob and push. There he stands. My home, in all his handsome glory.

He looks how I feel. Shitty. I've never been more attracted to him. I think that every time I see him, to be honest. Falling even more in love, I guess some might say. He gently touches my face with one of his big hands. There's no smile on his lips, but the warmth in his blue eyes proves he's more than happy to see me again. My heart flutters.

Why couldn't I look better for him? I haven't showered in two days. I probably stink, and if he stays close enough to get a whiff, he might find me too repulsive to touch. As I start to pull away, his other hand raises up to touch the other side of my face, and I cannot bring myself to move away anymore. He makes me look at him, as if to say, "Look, I'm dirty, too. It's okay." But it's different. I'm gross because of dumb mental issues. He's filthy because of being a hero. I'm not reassured, despite his efforts. He knows this.

He guides me back to the bed. I'm to sit here until he comes back, he says, and then he heads into the adjoining master bathroom. I hear running water shortly after he disappears. A bath? But there's no way I can fit in our tub with him. I'm fat and he's muscles. I'm too broad and wide for it to be comfortable for either of us. Yet I remain silent. He might just be running it for himself. He most certainly deserves a bit of rest after whatever he's been through. It's selfish of me to assume he means for us both to be in there at the same time.

When he returns, he takes me by the hands and leads me into the bathroom. He strips down to nothing with ease. I don't make a move. Why would he want to see me naked when he just got here? The lights are on. It's the middle of the day. We only make love in the dark because of me. He sees me covering myself with my arms despite still being dressed and gives me a little smile. If I'm not going to strip myself, he says, then he'll have to do it for me.

I'm red and still covering myself by the time he removes the last bit of clothing from me. My eyes are firmly shut so I don't have to see his reaction to my rolls, my stretch marks, my hideous body. He takes my hand and leads me to the tub, climbing in first and then tugging me in afterwards. He made sure to add bubbles. I guess it's to help me feel more comfortable. He has me practically on his lap, my head against his shoulder and just out of the way of his gorgeous face.

"Missed you," he whispers into my ear.

"Missed you more," I say.

"Rough day?"

I shrug. "Not...Not really. Just..."

"A bad day, then."

"Yeah."

He softly kisses my neck. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his lips. "Want to talk about it?"

"N-No...There's nothing to talk about. It's just one of those days, you know...?" I can't explain what's wrong with me. I don't know, aside from the broad explanation of, "Depression and anxiety are a bitch."

"What do you need me to do?"

I sigh, laying my back against him while being careful not to crush anything with my heavy weight. "Please, just hold me. Hold me and don't let go."

Those wonderfully strong arms of his wrap around me, pulling me as close to him as possible and as tightly as possible without hurting me. I lean my head back, letting him rest his chin against my neck. His warmth, the warmth of the water, and the warmth of his love begin to help me relax. He feels tense, too, and I realize I've yet to ask him about his day. I haven't asked him anything. How selfish.

"Stop that," he murmurs into my throat. Before I can ask for clarification, he says, "Stop thinking what you're thinking. We've got plenty of time, babe. There's no rush to do anything. Calm down. Relax."

"What about you?" I ask.

"I'm...working on it," he says rather sheepishly. He's always had a bit of trouble winding down after being forced to do life-threatening missions, so this isn't anything new. He nuzzles my neck. "You relaxing will help me relax. So don't worry your pretty little head about me, okay?"

I sigh. "I'll try, but I make no promises."

I feel him smile against my skin. "That's all I ever want...for you to try."

Fuck, I really don't deserve this man. He's so perfect and amazing and understanding...How did I ever get this lucky?

When a man as attractive as Leon S. Kennedy approaches you, you don't turn him away. You listen, you nod, you try your hardest not to make a fool of yourself. You somehow endear yourself to him. You don't regret choosing to leave your house that day, one of the rare times you ever get out. He asks for your number. You reluctantly tell him you don't own a cellphone and you're terrible with talking on phones, anyway. He compromises, unwilling to let this be the first and last time you communicate, giving you his home address. You can't stop smiling every time you look at that slip of paper, even if your parents and siblings won't stop teasing you for it.

A random encounter led to an exchange of addresses, an exchange of letters, an exchange of hearts. The biggest change of my life, all from one little meeting.

Eventually, he and I make proper use of the bath, washing ourselves and helping the other with the hard to reach places. His broad back, so firm and well-shaped, feels great under the washcloth as I use it to clean him. I can't stop myself from running my hands all over, making him chuckle. He loves when I touch him, regardless of the intention. My back isn't anywhere near as wonderful, but he won't let me refuse his assistance here, either.

I wash his hair, massaging his scalp in the process. God, he just melts, a few pretty little sounds escaping his perfect lips. A smile creeps onto my face, the biggest and most genuine I've had in what feels like forever. He looks up at me...Fuck, I can't describe what this angelic face does to me. It's incredible. He tilts his head up and captures my mouth with his. It's a bit awkward because it's like we're Spider-Man kissing due to how our heads are, but I don't mind.

After he returns the favor by washing my hair, we go back to the bedroom and get dressed in our nightclothes. In the absence of the hot water and silly bubbles, my mood starts to dip again. He knows this. In a blink, his arms are around me as he lifts me off my feet, effortlessly holding me bridal-style despite how much I weigh. A little yelp escapes me, which I try to stifle with my hand. He just grins, apologizing for surprising me, as he puts me on our bed and tucks me in. The fan is turned on--I have issues with heat and the sound is somewhat soothing--before he joins me, lying down so we're facing one another.

"Don't forget this little guy," he says, reaching behind me to grab my blue whale stuffed animal and offer it to me.

I shake my head. "I don't need Lurker now that I have you, Leon."

He holds the whale with one of his arms, extending the other to me. "I don't want him getting jealous. I owe him a lot. He takes good care of you while I'm gone, after all."

"You're such a dork."

I slide forward, letting the whale get crushed between our two bodies as we embrace. My head finds its place on his chest and his rests on top of mine. Legs entangle. We get comfortable...as comfortable as we can, given we're tightly holding onto each other. I feel so, so safe. So loved. So...

Well, not happy, exactly. Mental illness doesn't disappear just because Leon is with me. I was depressed and anxious long before he came into my life, and I'll be depressed and anxious no matter what. He doesn't expect me to recover just because he's a part of my life. I don't expect him to recover from his mental problems, either. We can only be here for each other, to offer comfort and love and ourselves.

"I love you, sweetheart. Never forget that," he says.

"i love you, too."

#dreamer writes #resident evil #leon kennedy x self-insert #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy #comfort

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archiveikemen · 1 year

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Abe no Yasuchika Main Story — Chapter 13

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

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The candlelight reflected in his beautiful dark colored eyes.

Yasuchika: Your voice was lovely.

Yasuchika: It sounded so dignified and calm… it was soothing to hear.

Yasuchika: Being a physician suits you. You’re so kind and will heal anyone.

Yuno: I- I don’t know how to respond to that many compliments…

Yuno: But the person I’m trying to help now isn't just “anyone”. He’s a genius Onmyoji having trouble sleeping.

Yasuchika: … I see.

Yuno: Yeah.

(My heart feels warm yet sad at the same time… it’s strange.)

I gently combed my fingers through Yasuchika’s hair.

Yasuchika: Nn…

Yuno: Is it ticklish?

Yasuchika: Nope.

Yasuchika: But you’re rarely the one initiating skinship.

Yuno: … Is that so? I never noticed it.

Yasuchika: I’m always noticing the little things about you.

(I’m doing this just for today…)

Making excuses for myself, I continued to feel Yasuchika’s warmth in my hand.

After a moment of silence, Yasuchika suddenly spoke.

Yasuchika: … Throughout my stay at the castle, I watched as you went from being just a guest to becoming like a part of them.

Yuno: Eh?

Yasuchika: When I requested you to join me in hunting ayakashi…

Yasuchika: I’m sure no one expected you to agree to it. That look of surprise on their faces was priceless.

Yuno: I did hesitate to agree at first. I was afraid of ayakashi, and you were still pretty much a stranger to me.

Yasuchika: But you still took up my offer in the end because you didn't want to get in anyone’s way.

Yasuchika: Maybe that tugged at the heartstrings of those samurai who go to battle by themselves.

(I think you’re exaggerating a little, but… it's nice to hear that.)

My face relaxed as I remembered the faces of the people in the Shogunate.

Yuno: I’m grateful that you made that request.

Yuno: It gave me the chance to do new things I wasn’t used to doing…

Yuno: That’s what I’ve been thinking more often whenever we deal with ayakashi.

Yasuchika: For example, that time you so eagerly helped me when I was forced to work at the castle?

Yasuchika smirked.

(That too.)

Yuno: It was a valuable learning opportunity! I could see for myself how strong everyone was.

Yasuchika: Your proposal to set up a medic system on the battlefield was admirable.

Yuno: I remember Kagetoki looking through it and pointing out a hundred mistakes, and we ended up working on it and rewriting it until midnight…

Yasuchika: … Did you know? Kagetoki doesn't teach people who he doesn't see any worth in teaching.

Yuno: What.

Yasuchika: He’d rather do the fixing by himself.

(Oh he’s scary! I’m so glad he was willing to teach me.)

Yasuchika: Shigehira was worried that you were working too hard, so he always arranged in secret for a late night meal to be brought to you.

Yuno: So every time dinner was brought to me at ungodly hours… those were Shigehira!?

(I definitely have to thank him the next time we meet.)

Thinking about it, I always had someone to lend me a hand whenever I was working on something at the castle.

(Morinaga and Tamamo would always give me advice as they watched over me…)

(And Yoritomo would guide me through the process until I was satisfied with the end results.)

Yasuchika: Are they your friends now?

Yuno: I wish I could say that openly.

Yasuchika mumbled under his breath when he heard my response.

Yasuchika: How typical of you.

He removed his hand from my hair to hold my hand.

Yuno: Yasuchika…?

Yasuchika: It surprisingly feels nice to have you to myself for an entire evening.

(Nn…)

He playfully brought his lips to my hand and…

A warm sensation was left on it.

(Why?)

I decided to keep quiet because I thought that the night would be ruined if I asked about the kiss.

Yasuchika: Hey. Can you sing that song for me again?

Yuno: … Sure, if you don’t mind.

Yasuchika: I like your singing.

(I’m glad.)

Yasuchika’s words made me happy, but I also started feeling a little uneasy.

(... This seems like it.)

Afraid to put a name to those feelings — I pretended not to know.

The next day —

(Mm… this is…?)

I felt the morning sun shining into my face and slowly opened my eyes.

Yuno: Hold up.

(I fell asleep in Yasuchika’s bedroom!?)

Yasuchika: zzzz

Yasuchika, who had been sleeping soundly next to me, suddenly woke up.

Yasuchika: Nngh… Yuno?

Yuno: H-Hi Yasuchika.

Yasuchika: …

His sleepy eyes locked onto mine.

Yasuchika: Good morning, Yuno.

Yuno: G- Good morning. I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right away.

Yasuchika: Did I just… sleep with you?

Yasuchika was deep in thought as he twirled my hair around his finger.

(What should I do now…)

Yasuchika: That might be the first time I slept with someone by my side.

Yasuchika: And it’s been a very long time since I last slept that well.

Yuno: Um that’s nice…

Yasuchika: You…

Just as Yasuchika moved his face closer to me and was about to say something —

Ibuki: Oi, Yasuchika. I’m coming in.

(You must be kidding me! Ibuki!?)

The sliding door opened before I had the chance to hide.

Ibuki: … What?

Ibuki froze for a moment when he saw me, then his serious facial expression turned into a wide grin.

Yasuchika: What do you want? Ibuki. Seeing your face first thing in the morning makes me sick.

(Yasuchika seems… unbothered.)

Ibuki: Did I interrupt something good, hm? The two of you?

Yuno: Please don't misunderstand! I just happened to fall asleep here!

Ibuki: Oh Yasuchika tired you that much last night?

Yasuchika: Don’t make it sound as if I’m like you. I was very gentle.

Yasuchika: — Ah, no. I was the one on the receiving end last night.

Yuno: WHAT!?

Ibuki: I should report this to Akihito.

Yuno: Definitely NOT.

(Aren't the two of them supposed to be unable to get along? They certainly don’t seem that way right now!)

Ibuki: I’ll ask you for more details later.

Ibuki: Here, the stuff you wanted.

Ibuki handed a wooden box to Yasuchika.

Yasuchika: Thanks.

Ibuki: You should be even more grateful towards me. I worked really hard to get that thing for you.

Yuno: What’s in that box?

Yasuchika: I told Ibuki to gather these materials so that I can use them as a medium for the new spell.

Yasuchika: They were in places that were hard to travel to, so I got him to do it instead.

(He gave Ibuki the task because it was at an inconvenient location. At this point, I can’t tell whether he really trusts Ibuki or not.)

The way Yasuchika checked the contents of the wooden box made him look like a true professional Onmyoji.

Yasuchika: I still have some time to experiment with these. I’ll do it before I start work…

Ibuki: Then do that. Yuno, let's go.

Yuno: What.

Yasuchika: Ibuki?

Ibuki: I’m taking her away so that you can concentrate.

(Oh. That’s right, he needs full concentration. I shouldn't disturb him.)

Yuno: I’ve been in here for too long, Yasuchika. I’ll see you later when we go ayakashi hunting.

Yasuchika: Alright. See you.

I left Yasuchika’s room with Ibuki.

(I thought he was only going to take me out of Yasuchika's room and that's all…)

Akihito: I see. So… she woke up in Yasuchika’s room, huh.

Ibuki: What do you think, Akihito?

For some reason, Ibuki brought me to Akihito’s room and now I’m having tea with the two of them.

Yuno: Um, as I’ve already explained earlier on, there is nothing going on between us.

Akihito: It’s okay, Yuno. I know.

(As expected of Akihito!)

Akihito: I’ll have the kitchen prepare red bean rice.

Yuno: You still don’t get it!?

Akihito: I was joking. Sorry.

Even the way Akihito shrugged his shoulders looked elegant.

(I don’t know the details, but he was definitely of noble birth.)

Akihito: But to be honest, I get why Ibuki got too excited.

Akihito: There are tons of women trying to court Yasuchika. But they’ve never even been invited into the mansion, much less his bedroom.

Yuno: Really…?

Akihito: You see, he doesn't exactly like having people in his personal space.

(This is making me even more aware of… that.)

Ibuki: How did you successfully tame that annoying man, Yuno?

Ibuki: Looks like Akihito made the right choice to send you to Yasuchika last night.

Yuno: I didn’t tame him… I’m not capable of doing such things.

Akihito: I don’t think so.

Akihito: I heard that Yasuchika briefly told you about me the other day.

Akihito: It’s rare for Yasuchika to trust someone that much.

Yuno: … Yes.

I recalled what Yasuchika told me that night and nodded.

== Flashback Start ==

Yasuchika: I can’t really tell you much details, but his body constitution is unique.

Yasuchika: Before his birth, he was cursed to be born a stillborn. However, he miraculously survived and was thus brought into this world alive.

Yasuchika: But many things happened… Lord Akihito was never happy for a day in his life from ever since he was born.

Yasuchika: He was unloved, shunned upon, and betrayed.

Yuno: Goodness…

Yasuchika: He had always suppressed the curse that was bound to his soul by sheer willpower, but…

Yasuchika: As Lord Akihito’s tolerance for his pain and suffering reached its limit, the curse went loose and killed everyone around him.

Yuno: …!

Yasuchika: From what I’ve been told, every single Onmyoji had to get involved to deal with the situation.

Yasuchika: They couldn't say for sure what would happen to the curse if they killed Lord Akihito, that's why they ended up sealing him away even though he was a human being.

Yuno: Then… what about the Lord Akihito you saw?

Yasuchika: He was a living spirit. His physical body had been asleep and hidden away deep inside the Abe Clan’s mansion.

Yasuchika: Due to the effects of the spell that was used to seal him away, his body never aged.

== Flashback End ==

Yuno: But… doesn’t that mean you have a much stronger bond with Yasuchika than I do?

Akihito: You’re not wrong to say that, but… both Yasuchika and I know that our bond is getting worse.

(I remember Yasuchika saying that their bond was “complicated and unstable”.)

Ibuki: He didn't talk about me at all? He’s so fake.

(Now that I think of it, there are many things I don’t know about Ibuki.)

Yuno: If you don't mind me asking, when did you first meet Yasuchika?

Ibuki: We met when I went on a rampage in the Abe Clan’s mansion.

Yuno: A rampage…?

The way he just so casually said that was shocking.

Ibuki: Unfortunately, due to various reasons, I can’t tell you much about it.

Ibuki: To make things simple… just take it as if I'm some kind of sorcerer from a foreign country.

Yuno: Does that mean you have powers too, like an Onmyoji?

Ibuki: I’m just a little different from normal people.

(Something about this feels fishy…)

Ibuki: Anyway, when I heard that there was a guy known as the second coming of Abe no Seimei, I just thought I’d play with him out of boredom.

Akihito: You were very annoying back then.

Yuno: Lord Akihito… did you already know Yasuchika at that time?

Akihito: Yes. I was only a living spirit back then.

Yuno: Oh… your physical body was asleep and hidden away deep in the mansion.

Ibuki: It was thanks to me that you got your body back. You should be grateful.

Akihito: You expect me to thank you for nearly killing Yasuchika?

(Eh…)

I started blankly as the two of them kept talking.

Ibuki: When Yasuchika’s life was in danger, it triggered Akihito to “call” for his body to wake up.

Ibuki: Funny how another person’s life being in a critical condition can awaken something that's been sleeping for years.

(That was how much Yasuchika meant to Akihito…)

Yuno: And what happened after that…?

Ibuki: I thought it’d get interesting if I kept Yasuchika alive, so I stopped attacking him.

(That’s the reason?)

Yuno: I can’t believe you attacked him just because you were bored and then withdrew on a whim.

Akihito: That's Ibuki for you.

Akihito: I don’t like to say it, but he did kind of help me in a way.

Ibuki: Yasuchika has hated me ever since then, though.

Akihito: You asked for it.

Akihito gently dismissed Ibuki’s remarks and turned to me again.

Akihito: When I got my body back, all the painful memories of my past that were filled with resentment also came back.

Akihito: Yasuchika felt small after that. … But he shouldn't feel that way.

Yuno: He must’ve thought that you went through a lot of pain because of him.

(I still don’t know much about the backgrounds of Ibuki and Akihito, but…)

(I know for sure that their relationship is more complex than I think.)

Akihito: You are like a breath of fresh air in this mansion, Yuno.

Akihito: Just like how Yasuchika and the two of us are fond of you… I hope that you will grow to like us too.

Akihito wore a bewitching smile.

(A breath of fresh air, huh.)

(If only there was something I could do while I’m in the mansion.)

Akihito: By the way, there’s something else I need to tell you.

Yuno: Yes?

Akihito: A messenger came to inform us that you have a visitor today.

(A visitor? Who could it be?)

Not too long after that, the visitor arrived —

Yoritomo: Long time no see, Yuno.

Yuno: Lord Yoritomo! What are you doing in the capital?

My visitor turned out to be the Seiitaishogun, who was supposed to be in Kamakura.

(I sent a report back to Kamakura about the ayakashi I’ve been dealing with, I didn't expect him to come see me personally.)

Yoritomo: I came for some official business. But since I had some free time on my hands, I decided to stop by and see how you’re doing.

Yuno: Eh?

Yoritomo beckoned me to move closer.

Yoritomo: — I’m here to give you a warning.

Yoritomo: There have been some suspicious activities happening in the outskirts of Kyoto recently.

Yuno: What do you mean?

Yoritomo: A few court nobles held secret meetings, spies were sent to Kamakura, and there were also negotiations held behind closed doors with regions not under the Shogunate’s control.

Yoritomo: Their moves aren't flashy, but they are meticulously planned and executed.

Yoritomo: I can’t say for certain… but there's a chance that the Imperial Court will backstab the Shogunate.

Yuno: Oh no…

Yoritomo: Yasuchika may be the leader of the Onmyoji, but he also functions as a point of contact between the Imperial Court and the Shogunate in the war against the Rebel Army.

Yoritomo: Should there be any threats coming from the Imperial Court’s side, that man will definitely be involved.

(Yasuchika will… betray the Shogunate?)

#ikemen genjiden #ikegen #ikegen main story #ikemen yasuchika #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #yasuchika main story

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saystheonewithaguitar · 2 years

Text

Dear Matt,

Thank you. As a new Critter (2022, how did it take me this long to discover D&D and Critical Role??), all I can say is that the arts has saved me multiple times in my life. The stage. Movies. Music. And now a TTRPG, of all things. I never thought I could be so emotionally invested and enraptured by a game. Sure, some games have tugged on my heartstrings-Final Fantasy 7, The Last of Us, and many more that I can't think of right now because I'm EMOTIONALLY WRECKED FROM EXU: CALAMITY?!??!!??! Like I legit had to go take a nap and I've just caught up on the first half that I missed and had to stop there. I need a few days to process before I rewatch the finale in one go, it was THAT good. Laughter. Sorrow. Heartbreak. The catharsis was much needed.

It's almost 5am in my part of the world, and I'm a sensitive soul who has been going through some really heavy shit in my own life, and Critical Role has been a light in the darkness. So even though ExU: Calamity broke me in the best possible way, it was, at the end of the day, a masterpiece in storytelling. Lightning in a bottle. This is what happens when talent, friendship, trust, kind hearts and a love for storytelling come together. Magic is created.

I wish, more than anything, that we, the human beings that populate this world, planet Earth, could work together like that instead of letting the "real life" equivalents of the Betrayer Gods fill our minds and souls with lies, greed, betrayal and evil. But for now, we have the containment and beauty of the arts to escape to when our hearts are weary.

#matt mercer #brennan lee mulligan #exu: calamity #exu calamity finale #exu calamity ep 4 #critical role #It is VERY late and I am spent but I had to write this #as a singer actor and lover of the arts I can only dream of being a part of something like this one day #MCU who? I don't know her #mainstream media better step up their game #also ExU: Calamity movie please thanks

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lightyaoigami · 1 year

Note

13,15,16,18,30 for writer ask!

ahh thanks tanya!! great questions!

13. Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

anything to do with pregnancy/babies is a hard no for me. also throwing in a hateful shout-out to buffyspeak my most loathed!!

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

the one i'm about to post in the next day or so >:) i will drop the link when it's ready but it's called kompromat. i can ~visualize~ this one so clearly in my mind, i wish i could draw so i could make it into a comic.

16. What is your most underrated fic?

i just posted amnesia haze, which was was surprisingly hard for me to write because it was a little woobie for my usual taste but i'm happy with the way it turned out. lmk if you guys like it.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

i love this question. i'm very proud of this bit here from down bad:

"His coordination was flagging, reminding him of a recent trip to the arcade where he had attempted to play Maimai Murasaki on the highest difficulty. It had been discomfiting to admit that his fingers just weren’t limber enough, and the harder he tried, the more cringe-inducing it became. He pressed his left hand to his chest to make sure it was still rising and falling and wondered if anyone had ever suffocated to death on a classmate’s [redacted]."

i spent a lot of time taking handwritten notes on how it would feel for a very persnickety person like light to do something that is objectively undignified, messy, and a little gross--even if it was his idea. and not only that, he's doing it for the first time ever, he's a little hammered, and he has strong feelings towards this person even if he mischaracterized those feelings as hatred. so yeah i wrote a lot of post-it notes on the myriad ways you can fuck up performing a [redacted] on someone despite really wanting to impress them. i also have to credit my genius pal @llawlietofficial for giving me the idea of "playing a video game on insanity mode and you're just not good enough at it to win" which was such a banger. i also think that there are not NEARLY enough fics exploring the idea that sex doesn't always go according to keikaku. while i totally understand the desire for wish fulfillment and fantasy, there is something to be said about writing things to give readers the ick on purpose to represent a more realistic, vulnerable, intimate encounter. it just tugs my heartstrings, ok? :))

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

devastatingly i suffer from only-can-write-oneshots disease. i guess mine would be a more slow-burn college au that i could put down bad in as a chapter. or a slow burn detective workplace thing. i love slow burn. their pinkies can touch but only after 50k words /s

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

#ask meme #reznorty3 #my writing

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emma-is-swaggy-and-epic · 1 year

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Hey y'all, just got back from watching the rest of manlybadasshero's omori lets play and i thought i'd share some of my thoughts about the game! (NEEDLESS TO SAY, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!)

So let's get one SUPER ULTRA MEGA BIG thing out of the way first, i would've 100% enjoyed my experience a lot more if i wasn't such a huge scatterbrain and spoiled the big twist at the end for myself. Though in my defense i kinda wasn't expecting the game to get so popular so quick when it first came out, i first heard of the game through manly and i thought it was just another obscure indie game like what he always plays. Aside from that though....I LOVED IT!!!!! It tugged at my heartstrings with it's accurate portrayal of mental illness and the heartwarming moments between sunny and his friends, it really reminded me of my own childhood in a lot of ways. I've found myself relating to all the characters in some sort of way, especially aubrey. Idk....just the way she lashed out on others throughout the game really spoke to me in a weird way......either that or it's just because i like rebellious characters in general (the fact that she has a pet bunny is a plus for me, i love bunnies!)

Ngl, i don't cry to video games often....i'm pretty sure the only games i've ever cried to are undertale and pokemon sword but even then, i was crying about pokemon sword because i was proud of myself for completing the game....and honestly, i'm glad omori is one of those games that make me emotional like that...even if i already knew sunny killed mari, even if i already knew basil killed himself in one of the endings. Though that could also be because my dog wouldn't shut the fuck up while i was watching the last few episodes and i was just stressed out about that

If i had to pick: i feel like i prefer headspace over real world, i was an undertale kid back in the day so i love me some quirky characters and fun worlds! Though tbh i feel like omocat WANTED her players to like headspace more since she explicitly said at one point that she specifically wanted to make omori a game so that people would be able to FEEL what sunny was feeling (that's the best way i can explain it i guess) that being said; i'd say my favorite characters are aubrey, spaceboy and recyclepath. I've already said what i've wanted to say about aubrey earlier but aside from that, i think she's really cool and VERY me-core! Same goes for spaceboy, i'm a huge sucker for bright colors and space-themed characters. Not to mention recyclepath is a really unique character, i've never seen a character based ENTIRELY on recycling before! Plus his coat and glasses remind me a LOT of oliver tree and i mean....hey, i like songs like alien boy and life goes on lmao

Ngl while i DID get the endings spoiled for me, there was still a lot of stuff that was a HUGE surprise for me! Like BRO I HAD NO IDEA KEL AND HERO HAD A BABY SISTER!!!! I mean....i DO vaguely remember someone mention sally in a youtube comment section but i had no idea what they were talking about and i was kinda just confused (iirc i may have even thought that kel and hero having a sister was just a weird dream i had) but i mean hey....as the youngest sister of 3 siblings who was born when my mom was in her 40's myself, i appreciate the representation! /hj

I actually first got into omori because a good friend of mine was into it, it started when he changed his pfp on discord to basil and we had a really short conversation about the game afterwards. A while later i saw an omori edit in my youtube rec and i thought "oh yay it's that game my friend likes! Let's watch it!" And the rest, as they say, is history! Dunno why the fuck it took me a whole ass year to finish the damn playthrough though

Speaking of which, i DEFINITELY wish that manly showed the hikkikomori route bosses in his playthrough. Seeing thoses cutscenes of the slime girls creating roboheart, mutantheart and perfectheart REALLY got me pumped to see the boss fights! Oh well....

All in all, omori is a SPECTACULAR game and i'm glad i decided to check it out! 9/10!

#omori #thoughts #my thoughts #would this count as a review?#omori game #omori spoilers #lets play #lets players #manlybadasshero #video games #indie games #game review #long post #what's with me and joining fandoms long after they're dead????#i may or may not make fanart for this game later who knowd #fuck i made a typo

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malleux · 4 years

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idk if my request went through cuz my internet went weird just now-- but anyways, could I perhaps get a soft corpse x reader in which they're all playing among us and Rae or Sean invites (y/n), who none of them have every heard of, and she's just very shy but has an adorable childlike voice, and is an incredible imposter? Like she's just super convincing just like corpse, and can tug at the heartstrings with her voice? thank you!

spell. | corpse husband

part two ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Fandom: uhh youtubers? idk

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack

-> Warnings: Cursing

-> A/N: hi it’s a long overdue corpse fic :) it’s not the absolute best and for that i’m super sorry i’ve just got to get in the groove of writing for him!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

You were never one to enjoy the spotlight. Instead, you were often found in the background of things, just observing the extroverts who managed to get themselves in the middle of everything.

You had a nerve to admire them- their ability to just get out there and show their true selves, despite so many people watching their every move. Just the thought of it made you shudder. Yet you couldn’t help but also be rather envious of them.

Them, in question, being Sean McLoughlin.

You weren’t quite sure how you became associated with Jacksepticeye himself, choosing to focus on the present and future with your friend rather than dwelling on your past. He was just Sean, your internet friend. And also Jacksepticeye- a famous youtuber with millions of followers.

Sean was who you aspired to be in life. Outgoing, happy, out there, everything positive in life that Sean had, you wanted.

He’d confided in you often about how nervous he’d get before streams or videos, fearing that he’d say the wrong thing or upset his fans, but he still put on a brave face and went out into the chaos. That’s what you admired. His ability to conquer those anxieties.

You wished you could do that. You were simply too nervous.

Which is why when Sean facetimed you one night- morning, actually, seeing as it was 3am in California, where you were- asking you to join a game of Among Us for one of his videos, you adamantly refused.

“Why? Please, Y/N, we need one more person.” Sean begged, “It’ll be me, you, Felix, Ethan, Corpse, Julien, PJ, and Dave. Not everyone’s playing today, it’s a smaller crowd.”

“But it’s still a lot.” You groaned, “I don’t even know them. I just know you.”

“They’re nice! You literally watch their videos.” He argued back.

“That’s the point, Sean! They’re famous, I’d just be some random chick in the game that everyone asks where the fuck she came from.”

“No, you’ll be the girl that everyone adores. Now get on, we’re playing in ten.”

You sighed as the phone hung up and turned on your computer. A Discord invite was waiting for you- Sean must have invited you for you to talk to everyone as you played. You accepted with shaky fingers and put your headphones on, pulling up Among Us and typing in the game code.

“Hello everyone- wait, who’s pink?”

“She’s a good friend of mine,” Sean explained to Felix, “Say hi Y/N. We’re streaming live right now.”

“Hello,” You couldn’t help the meek tone in your voice, smiling shyly as if you were actually on camera. “Wait, you’re streaming? Sean, I thought you said it was a recording for a video.”

“I, well. It’s a video all right.”

The group laughed, but you stayed silent, fixating your attention on a lower voice that chimed in at the end.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Corpse.”

“The King of Imposters.” PJ joked, making Corpse laugh.

You giggled a bit, “Hi…”

Felix gasped. “Corpse, her voice is like, the total opposite from yours. Her’s is so cute.”

Corpse laughed as well. “Agreed. I like it.”

As the game loaded, your heart practically dropped.

Imposter.

As if your nerves weren’t bad enough as they were. But, on the bright side, you were with Sean as the other imposter. At least it was someone you knew.

You both split up, you heading towards Electrical. Corpse and Felix were close behind you, Felix following you into the room while Corpse left. You pretended to do your task for a minute before moving to your left a minute and killing Felix.

You rushed out of the room and then headed to Navigations, making sure to avoid anybody who could have seen you leave Electrical. A few moments later, a body was reported.

“Where was it?” Sean asked Julien, the reporter.

“Electrical.”

“I saw Y/N go in there with him at the beginning of the game.” Corpse joined in, “I saw them as I was going to the Reactor.”

“I was in Electrical with him,” You admitted, still acting a bit shy. What could you say, deep voices and new people made you nervous. “But after that I left and went to do my task in Navigation. Felix was still alive and there when I left.”

“Did you pass anyone sus on the way there?” Sean asked.

“No, if they came in after I did it must’ve either been from the other way or after I was already in Electrical.” You started picking at your nail polish- a habit of yours when things got a little overwhelming.

“So you’re saying that it could’ve been from the direction Corpse was in?” You could hear the smirk in Sean’s voice.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Why are you so quick to throw me under the bus? I’m just a crewmate.” Corpse questioned, “You’re pretty sus if you ask me.”

Sean scoffed, “I’m just inferring that the culprit came from your direction. Never in my words did I say it was you. Sounds like you’re getting a little too defensive for someone who’s ‘just a crew mate’.”

“Uh, guys,” You quietly spoke up. You didn’t expect anyone to hear you, but Corpse and Sean immediately quieted down at your voice. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got to vote. I don’t want us to argue…”

Sean laughed. “Oh little Y/N, you’re too sweet. I’m skipping this round.”

As you voted to skip as well, your stomach clenched when you heard Corpse quietly repeat “Little Y/N”.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“It’s Y/N, I’m fucking telling you! Y/N!” Julien was practically screaming at this point. You tried to stay calm, focusing on keeping your voice steady.

The group had been calling you cute and adorable practically all night, so you were seriously about to put that to use.

“I was in Medbay with Corpse, isn’t that right, Corpse?” Your tone was sweet and slightly flirty- hopefully he’d get the hint.

Corpse hesitated for a millisecond- long enough for your breath to catch, but short enough for nobody else to notice. “Yeah, she was with me.”

“She was with you after she vented there!” Julien cried, “I can’t believe this- she killed Ethan and vented away right as I went into the room! You all are fucking nuts if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t even know how to vent…” You murmured innocently, but in reality you were smirking. Julien was definitely telling the truth, and you were internally beating yourself up for letting yourself be so reckless after a kill, but nobody was seemingly buying his story.

There was only you, Corpse, Julien, Dave, and PJ left. Sean was voted off after fucking up his alibi, leaving you alone with the rest of the group.

Corpse sighed. “You all heard the girl. She doesn’t even know how to vent.”

“Wh- she just fucking vented!” Julien exclaimed, “Corpse, man, she’s got you under some fucking magic spell if you can’t see all the evidence. Guys, back me up here.”

“She’s sus.” Dave admitted, “And Corpse defending her makes it even more sus.”

“The spell she tried on him obviously got the best of him. I say we vote Y/N.” PJ agreed.

“There’s no spell, guys, oh my God.” Corpse laughed, “I just don’t think it’s her. I’m skipping.”

“I can’t believe you guys don’t believe me!” You whined, deciding to go further with your emotional tactics, “I’m literally about to cry. It’s not me!”

And yet, despite your protests, Dave, PJ, and Julien all voted you out. Crewmates had won the game and you were giggling nearly like a maniac as everyone gushed about how you did as an Imposter.

A bit later, you had to say goodbye to your new friends and face the reality that their fans would definitely find who you were by tomorrow. Or like, in a few hours, because it was already 4am. Corpse was in California as well, wasn’t he? He should be getting some sleep too, you thought. But maybe sleep schedules were different for Youtubers. You didn’t know.

You pondered the thought for a moment before the notification sound for Discord alerted you of a new message on your phone.

Corpse:

Just letting you know, your voice definitely had me under a spell. I’d like to hear it more often

#fanfiction #x reader #fic blog #writing #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagines #corpse imagines #corpse husband #lay writes #requests

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one,

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

series masterlist

Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @riri-marley @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch | bolder users cannot be tagged

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yaku-soba · 3 years

Text

everything i could never say to you (i wrote into a song)

༶•┈┈ semi eita x gn!reader | light angst, eventual fluff

༶•┈┈ general m.list

warnings/tags: childhood best friends to lovers, this bad boy can fit so much pining in it, in this fic semi plays the guitar and the piano and also sings, i looped sorry for writing all the songs about you by clara mae while writing this and it shows

word count: 2k

a/n: a repost from my old account!! re-reading this made me realize how much my writing has changed :””) i hope yall enjoy this!!

summary: All of his songs are about you. Eita doesn’t know how to write anything else.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Eita’s had many favourite singers. He doesn’t remember them all, because there are too many, but there’s an interview he’d watched once, back in his first year of middle school that sticks with him.

Find a muse, he remembers the singer saying - he doesn’t remember their name anymore, but he knows these words by heart - find a muse, and write them into your music.

(It’ll be the most painful thing you’ve ever sung, but it will be the most beautiful.

He hadn’t understood what the singer had meant, then.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Semi-semi!” You shout gleefully as you throw open the doors to the gym. Catching Tendou’s eye, you shoot him finger-guns, smiling even as your best friend storms towards you, the volleyball in his hand flying against the side of Tendou's head.

“Out,” he says gruffly, catching you by the back of your collar, and you wave a jaunty salute at the rest of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team as Eita hauls you out of the gym.

“That was mean,” you pout, turning when he finally lets go of you, “and after I came all the way here to pass you your math homework.” You drawl the word all, and delight in the tick in Eita’s brow.

Your best friend sighs, massaging his temple in a way that has no business looking that all-suffering, “I never should have let you meet Tendou.”

Laughing, you hand him the worksheet he’d left under his table. “We would have met anyway,” you point out, “seeing as he had a puppy crush on me back in first year.”

Eita stiffens, and the hand taking his worksheet from you crumbles into itself.

“You’re crumpling the worksheet,” you say, “what, are you jealous?” You wink, your tone just shy of flirtation.

(You wish you were brave enough to just ask.)

He laughs, voice cracking, and the sound grates more than it should.

“Of course not,” he says, free hand smoothing out the wrinkles until it’s like they were never there, “I just wouldn’t wish you on anyone.”

“Right,” you agree easily, “says Semi-I’ve-been-single-my-entire-high-school-career-Eita.”

Your best friend scowls at that. “There’s still a few months,” he argues, and you brush off the rest of his statement by pushing him back into the gym.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, grinning, “I bet you’re a real heartbreaker, Eita.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

The first song Eita writes that’s worth mentioning is about you.

It’s full of steady strums and simple notes, and when his lips form the lyrics, he sees in his mind's eye the way the sun catches in your lashes in the way they do on gentle spring afternoons. He’s long since memorized the way it drips across your cheeks, honeyed gold like the belly of the guitar that he’d promised himself he’d save up for.

(It’ll be the most painful thing you’ve ever sung, but it will be the most beautiful. Eita hadn't understood it at twelve. At eighteen, he thinks he does.

He understands it now, as a third-year usurped by his junior. Every game he doesn’t spend as the starting setter stings like road burn, but still the court beckons like a mirage in a desert and he cannot let go.

Eita learns to tell himself that this is okay. He’s fine with being a pinch server if it means he gets to stand on the court. At least he still gets to hear the squeak his shoes make against the wood when he takes off like a bird in flight.

So - of course Eita understands, he’s your best friend, after all. And he knows that’s all he’ll ever be.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Once, when you were children freshly enrolled in middle school, Eita had asked you to be his muse.

You still remember how nervous he had been, how his hands - long even at their age, beautiful like a pianist or a setter’s - shook. You remember the blush across his cheeks, cherry blossom petals you had wanted to keep.

You wonder if he still remembers, if he still writes his songs with you as his muse.

You wonder if they're love songs.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Sometimes, you think that he might like you back.

It’s a thought that you can’t help thinking whenever you catch him staring at you a breath too long, when he makes eye contact with you the moment right before he serves (intense), whenever his fingers linger on your arm (butterfly kiss-light).

Sometimes, he looks at you the way he strums his guitar - gently, all adoration and other soft things. He’ll look at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled (just slightly, like origami), and his lips stretched into a small smile - and your heart will leap, it’ll tumble gracelessly, and you’ll think, what if.

But you are, at heart, a coward. You love Eita more than you have ever loved someone else, and it terrifies you - you don’t know what you’ll do if you lose your best friend.

You don't want to find out. You'll learn to satisfy yourself with just his friendship, because you know, without a doubt, that losing it will kill you.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

All his songs are about you.

It’s not even that Eita’s trying. He writes a lyric and realizes it’s a metaphor for your eyes; he hums a verse and finds that it’s the exact pentatonic scale of your laugh.

You’ve wormed your way into every page of his music and into every turn of phrase, and Eita cannot stop hearing you in every song. It’s keeping him from writing anything else.

It's only terrifying because he doesn't know if he wants to write anything else. He tries not to think too much about it, but sometimes - only sometimes - he thinks that by writing you into every note and every lyric, he can make you his. Even if it's only for the length of a song.

(He wonders what you’d say if you heard them.

He wonders if you’d hear the arching crescendo, the way it builds and builds and builds before overflowing, crashing like a wave against the shore - and know that it’s about that night you’d crawled through his bedroom window just because he’d called you, upset. He wonders if you’d pick out the light, sure-footed rhythm that he hides in all of his music and know that it’s a desperate imitation of the thousands of times you’d skipped ahead of him on the walk home.

Eita wonders and wonders and wonders, and knows that the only dreams that hurt him are those that he wants, more than anything else.)

He doesn’t let you listen to the songs he composes, anymore.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

It comes to a head two weeks before graduation.

You’re late to lunch with your friend, rushing down the halls with your bag slipping down your shoulder, when you hear it.

There’s someone playing the piano in Shiratorizawa’s perpetually-empty music room, and it’s the rawest thing you’ve heard since the first song of Eita’s that he’d let you listen to.

(It had been simple, no fancy chord progressions, no key change or two-part melody.

When he’d sung it to you, all you could see was the graceful line of his neck, traced by the sunlight through the window of his bedroom, and the tenderness of his fingers on the strings.)

You pause, peering through the tiny window in the door.

It’s Eita. Your next exhale is shaky.

He’s playing a song you don’t know on the piano, and after a few bars you realize it must be one of his own. It’s played too adoringly to be anything else.

It feels like cheating, crouching like a thief outside of the music room, hunched so he can't see you through the window in the door. Eita hasn't played his songs for you in ages, and while you're happy that you finally can hear them, listening to them this way feels too much like a betrayal.

You've just resolved yourself to knock on the door when he starts playing the first song he ever sung to you.

It's a little different - there are triplets now, and they stumble into each other the way you remember tripping into Semi the night you'd skinned your knee and cried, back when you were nothing but children. The phrasing is different, too; there are more arcs now, and every slur feels heady, feels giddy like the brush of his hands against yours on the evenings you walk home with him after he’s finished volleyball practice.

It's different, more complicated. But it's still unmistakably Eita, and every press of piano keys tugs at your heartstrings like calloused fingers on a guitar.

(You think it sounds like heartbreak, slow in the making. It sounds like a decade's worth of nights spent staring at the lit room in the house next to yours, trying to make out his silhouette through the drawn curtains.)

"You should play that for Y/n," someone says suddenly, and you startle before you realize that it came from inside the music room. The voice speaks again, and you recognize it as Tendou's. "It's not as hopeless as you think it is, take the Guess Monster's word for it!"

There's a pause, and you strain your ears to hear Eita's reply.

"This isn't a game, Tendou," is all your best friend says. He sounds defeated, but you can't even focus on that, not when this sounds so much like what you want that it's too good to be true. "And there's no way Y/n thinks of me that way. Even if I-"

You lean closer, pressing your ear to the door more firmly-

-And lose your balance. There's a moment of too-loud silence as Eita cuts himself off abruptly when you tumble into the room, and the three of you look at each other in shock.

Tendou is the first to move. "Well," he says cheerfully, blissfully ignoring the pleading looks you send his way as he stands, "guess I’ll leave you two to it!"

He grins as he walks past you and through the doorway. You’ve never despised him more than you do in that moment.

You turn your gaze back to Eita, mind racing even as you know that it's blatantly obvious that you'd been eavesdropping. You’re still half-sprawled on the ground.

Eita clears his throat. "Um," he starts eloquently. You're struck with the reminder of what he’d been about to say.

Even if you what? You think desperately. What were you going to say?

"Eita," you say, testing his name on your tongue like you haven't already spoken it enough times to fill the seas, "what were you going to say?"

He looks panicked, fingers twitching like bird wings against where they’re resting on the piano keys.

"Please," you add. You have to know.

You watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes in a deep breath the way he does right before a service ace.

"I like you," he says finally, "and I'm sorry."

You’ve never been the musician, not with Eita around, but with his confession, your heart sings.

"I’m sorry," you breathe, and the air aches beautifully as it enters your lungs, and it feels like coming home. Eita’s face falls, something knowing and terrible - like heartbreak - setting in. "Because I like you too," you finish.

There’s a sparrow chirping on the windowsill of Shiratorizawa's music room.

"Oh," your best friend says, except he can be more now, can't he? "Oh," he repeats, and you smile, opening your arms in welcome as he makes an aborted motion to stand.

He fits into your arms like notes on an empty score.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

On a lazy spring afternoon, Eita plays to you all the songs he’s ever written.

He tells you they’re about you.

You tell him you know, you ask him if that’s why he used to keep from playing them to you.

He peppers you with kisses.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! do let me know what you thought in asks / the tags!! </3

#semi eita x reader #semi eita #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kyouka writes #haikyuucreations

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Meet Me In The Hallway (3)

Pairing: Sky x reader

Summary: Stella is losing patience and when you follow Sky into the forest to find the Burned One, she lets part of your secret slip as a warning.

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

Series Masterlist

“I thought I saw you leave Sky’s room and then I thought… That can’t be true. Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that when they know what I know.”

You really hate Stella. Slowly, you turn around to face her preparing yourself for the venomous smile she no doubt has plastered on her face. Barely anytime has gone by but you’re already getting very tired of having her threaten you.

“Silva is hurt. He needed someone to comfort him. That’s all.” You’re dog-tired wishing for a peaceful sleep but Stella has other plans.

“If Sky needs comforting, I will make sure he gets it. Not you.” It baffles you how she claims to care for him when all she does it look after her own needs. Frankly, you don’t care who gets to comfort him as long as he’s not alone. You’d give up just about anything to make sure he’s happy but Stella seems to think it’s him who should give up everything for her.

“Are you really that selfish you’ll put your own happiness above his?” you dare ask tired of her games.

“I’m going to give you one last chance to fix this,” she starts completely ignoring your question.

“I have to stay away from him. I get it,” you interrupt her about to turn around and walk away when she stops you.

“I want you to convince him to go on a date with me. He’s been too occupied sulking over you to show any interest in me. I want you to make him realise that I’m the obvious choice.” She must’ve lost her mind. For a whole minute you simply just stare at her taking her words in. She wants you to convince Sky to fall in love with her. In the middle of everything going on with Silva. Is she completely mental?

“Did you hear me or do I need to repeat myself?” In an attempt to act unbothered, she checks her nails but you see right through her. All the insecurities and abandonment issues shine bright in the dark and you briefly pity her. Everyone has heard the rumours of her mother and the way she’s been treated, but you came from a horrible life too and you didn’t turn into a bitch.

“I heard you.”

“Great. You can tell him I’ll be waiting in my room.” She walks past you not even bothering to ask how Silva is doing. Despite your need for some proper sleep, you decide to head down to the greenhouse. Mr. Harvey is adding a fresh coat of the herb mix to Silva’s wounds.

“Sky is sleeping,” you quickly say to easy Silva’s mind. He sits back down revealing the pain he’s in.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask needing something to occupy your mind from what Stella asked of you. How can you focus on that when Silva could be dying?

“Maybe you could cool me down again? It really helped me rest.” You oblige placing your hand on his forehead and channeling just the slightest magic into the palm of your hand. It’s an instant effect when the ice hits him. Slowly his skin returns to a normal shade rather than the hot red it was mere minutes ago.

“Thank you,” he whispers lying down on the table again. It must be really bad if he’s so willing to show weakness. In the time you’ve known Silva, he’s never shown weakness about anything. You know it would be a different story if Sky were here though. He’d never want Sky to know just how much pain he’s in and you can’t blame him. It would crush Sky.

“No problem. I can come back in a few hours to do it again?” You look to Mr. Harvey for signs whether that’s a good idea or not. He gives you a quick nod before continuing his work. You mean to head to your room but you spot a blonde boy who’s sneaking out the backdoor.

“Are you kidding me?” With a sigh, you follow him outside realising that he’s heading straight for the forest.

“Sky, where are you going?” you ask and the sound of your voice stops him dead in his tracks.

“I’m going to find the Burned One that got Saul. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” He’s not looking at you. Probably because he knows you’ll try to talk him out of it.

“Please stay. Marco is out looking as we speak and I’m sure he’ll find it.” You’re desperate to keep him protected within the barrier but you’re always painfully aware of the fact that Sky is one of the most stubborn people you’ve ever met. You’re not sure you’ll be able to convince him especially now that you’re broken up.

“I’m not waiting for someone else to save him. Saul is all I have left.” It’s a brutal reminder of what you took from him when you ended things and it tugs at your heartstrings just how badly you hurt him.

“Then I’m coming with you.” If he’s going out there, you need to be there too. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you had the chance to stop it.

“You’re not going with me,” he says as if he has any say at all.

“If you’re going, I’m going. Package deal, remember?” It’s something you started saying after Riven kept commenting on the fact that you never went anywhere without each other and up until recently you never have. He doesn’t look pleased but he also doesn’t say no. He just hands you a small dagger for you to hold onto to. You grab hold of the water drops lying on the grass and freeze them before levitating them in the air.

“I think I’m good.” He takes the dagger back without a word and proceeds to the forest. It’s a long trek but you don’t complain. You asked to be here and as much as you hate the uncomfortable silence that’s formed between the two of you, you’re glad you’re here. There’s no point in the search because it’s impossible to figure out what direction the Burned One headed but all you can do is keep a lookout and hope you get lucky.

“Stop,” you whisper grabbing hold of his sleeve. He stops moving but you feel the shiver in his arm where your fingers grazed his skin.

“Sorry,” you mumble letting go of him. A little further ahead, you see something move. Sky pulls out his sword and you channel your feelings ready to freeze it in place. It’s not the first time you and Sky has worked together, but it is the first time it’s been outside of training.

“I freeze, you stab.” He nods hardly moving a muscle. You direct your power at the Burned One freezing every part of it to keep it from moving. You hold it in place feeling the fire inside of it trying to beat your ice but as you see Sky run towards it, you feel more motivated than ever to win. He stabs it right through its core and when you feel its resistance die out, you let go of control. It falls to the ground officially dead.

“We did it,” you say out of breath. How you haven’t passed out from sleep deprivation yet is beyond you but it’s catching up to you now.

“I’ll call Silva,” you say ignoring the need to fall asleep right here on the ground. It takes two rings before he picks up shouting about how irresponsible you are for taking off and hunting Burned Ones yourself. He doesn’t say thank you, but you know it’s hidden between the lines.

“He’s definitely feeling better,” you say once he’s done giving both of you an earful. He demands you both return to school at once and now that you’ve killed the right one, you can oblige easily.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Sky says on your way back.

“Of course. I know what Silva means to you.” This time the silence is comfortable almost as if nothing went wrong between the two of you. But Stella’s ultimatum is still weighing heavy on your mind.

“Can I ask you to do something without any questions?” you ask him right before you reach the barrier.

“What is it?” he asks but you need him to promise you before you tell him. You know he’ll never agree to it otherwise.

“Promise me,” you say pausing just before the barrier. From here you can see the school and the students training out on the grass as if it’s just a normal day. But to them it probably is.

“I promise.”

“I need you to take Stella on a date.” His glare might just pierce you from pure anger.

“No questions. You promised!” He’s about to protest but stops himself. He’s a man of his word even if he hates it right now.

“Fine.” He starts walking leaving you behind. The second people spot you, they stare at you like you just arrived with the circus.

“Is that them?”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“Are we in danger?” Everyone is whispering and pointing fingers making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You notice Musa not too far away and head over to her.

“What’s going on?” Before she has a chance to tell you, a first year taps you on the shoulder. A bunch of girls are watching from afar making it obvious that the first year in front of you is here on a dare.

“Is it true?” she asks continuously looking back at her friends.

“Is what true?” you ask confused ignoring the sneaking suspicion you feel.

“Is it true that you’re a changeling?”

#sky x reader #sky blurb #sky imagine #sky gif #sky #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #fate winx club #winx saga #winx club #fate winx #fate

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ushidoux · 4 years

Text

Hesitant (Ushijima x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 3350 words (I can’t believe I wrote this much)

Summary: You find out why Ushijima has been a little hesistant about things getting too steamy between you. NSFW.

A/N: This is awkward af and quite cracky but hopefully in an endearing way.

---

Ushijima Wakatoshi was essentially perfect.

Just the right amount of unexpectedly charming and unintentionally hilarious, the man had a way of tugging at your heartstrings with even the most basic gestures. The way he reached for your hand instinctively when you met up with him after your college courses, the softening of his usual glower as he turned in your direction in response to your voice calling his name, or the short but sweet morning texts - all things that made your heart swell for him.

He was straightforward and most importantly, explicit with his actions from the very first moment you got involved. You never got the impression you were being strung along and despite how hyperaware you were about the ills of the current dating landscape, not once did you consider the possibility of getting ghosted or benched.

Weeks then months passed and you fell fast for him. You were in love.

In love with everything: his facial expressions, whether serious or smiling, his dedication to his craft, his warm, large hands, the timbre of his voice and the way it softened especially for you...

He was perfect.

But when your third month anniversary (not that you were keeping track, of course) came and passed and you had not yet had that kind of intimacy, you could no longer ignore the ache in your core he left you with after his lips parted from you minutes into a deep, passionate kiss...

Or worse - when he came from behind and held you tightly around the waist, the familiar but not-familiar-enough bulge between his legs pressing against your lower back and demanding your attention in a different way Toshi did.

In mere moments, every touch went from wanted and appreciated to craved and needed, and it began to hurt.

Why was he holding back?

“T-toshi?” You mumbled, interrupting your makeout session by pulling back from him as far as you could with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Mm…?” His eyes connected to yours then slid back down to your lips, wanting, waiting for you to continue. Was he actually listening? You weren’t quite sure, but his hold on your hips firmed, keeping you steadily settled in his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, making sure to keep you close, and you could feel his heartbeat, slightly quickened as he waited for you to speak.

You wished he would look at you when you asked this next question but instead you pressed your cheek to his.

“Do you find me attractive?”

Your voice came out somewhere between soft and assertive, and you could feel Ushijima tense ever so slightly before straightening his back so that he was looking straight at you. His hands didn’t move from where they rested on your side and he remained very still, as he did often when he was unsure of what to do next.

His face remained unreadable and the behavior didn’t reassure you.

“Well, do you?” You pressed, your voice smaller this time.

“Why do you think otherwise?”

His deep voice was almost as quiet as yours, and he sounded almost apologetic. You felt a small weight land in the pit of your stomach, embarrassed to have made the mood so awful. But you couldn’t help what you wanted. You could feel that familiar heat rising within the space between your legs, and your breathing was getting quicker and raspier, and his hands had been roaming... A large hand had slipped under your shirt, then under your brassiere to palm and caress a breast, and suddenly his tongue was down your throat, and you knew soon he would stop and you would be left to smile and bite your lip while he hastily made up an excuse to leave.

Was it you? Was it him?

Your arms slowly slid down from around Ushijima’s neck and dropped into your lap. A small frown crossed his face very briefly in response and he gently withdrew his hands from where they held you.

You sat quietly together for a moment as you attempted to formulate words to express how you felt. Horny? Yes. Desired? You weren’t sure, and that was the issue.

“Sometimes, I feel like…,” you trailed off, carefully scrutinizing Ushijima’s face for a reaction. He continued to watch you cautiously, and you grimaced before continuing. Confrontation wasn’t your strong point, but communication was a must.

“I feel like things escalate and then… stop.” You paused there, and he tilted his head slightly. You mentally scolded yourself, knowing very well that you weren’t doing a great job of making sense, but in that surprisingly intuitive way of his, he seemed to know exactly what you meant.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he said, slowly.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you repeated, warmth flooding your cheeks once again. “U-unless you’re not ready to, you know, have sex... I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to coerce you into doing something that you don’t want to do, I just-”

You were interrupted by Ushijima’s hands finding their way back onto your hips again, and then standing you up completely straight so that he could rise to his full height. Seeing him tower over you now suddenly, you swallowed hard once. He could be so intimidating without meaning to, even if he was unequivocally sweet with you.

He let out a wistful sigh and ran a hand through his hair with his eyes closed before refocusing his gaze back onto you - you who were now standing awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs as you waited for him to decide to either tell you he was interested in touching and kissing but not outright having sex with you (but maybe some day!) or to just walk out the door never to be seen again without even bothering with an explanation.

Instead, he suddenly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, to your surprise.

“Wait, Toshi! Now?” You almost shrieked as he almost hastily undressed his lower half in the middle of your apartment without a single qualm. He was already unfastening his belt before he stopped to look at you - a good thing because your heart was now beating so fast in your chest, you were sure you were going to become lightheaded enough to pass out.

“We can if you want to. I’ve wanted to for a while now,” he replied, and to those simple words, your heart started to flutter and both elated and aroused you were again.

“The problem is, I was, and still am, a little worried that I might hurt you,” he started, and you wondered why he would be concerned about such a thing up until his pants dropped to his ankles, and your eyes grew wide as you realized what the limiting factor may have been. No wonder he had been avoiding sex for so long.

“I’m a bit large down there, it turns out.”

Large is an understatement, you thought, your eyes glued helplessly to the thing hanging between his legs. For the second time tonight, you swallowed hard - for once, you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

---

One very efficient store trip, a couple extra-large condoms, and a generous amount of lube later, you knelt across from Ushijima onto your large bed, your heart pounding again. Both of you were now stripped down to the bare flesh and while you wanted to drool over the sight of his bare chest and indulge in the feeling of his weight pressed against your body, you found yourself movement paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.

You had felt silly asking him to redress again so you could go out and buy supplies, but the truth was you needed time to come up with a game plan. Anyone who saw that monster cock for the first time would take a pause. Would you be able to take all of that? Could anyone take all of that?

“___, are you okay? You’re staring.”

You were trying to figure out if the condoms would fit him, then thanked the heavens that you were on the pill anyway if the condoms broke by any chance. When he waved his hand in your face, you were brought back into the reality of the here and now. You nodded, but the thinly veiled distress on your always expressive face was starting to remind him of the many locker room jokes and nicknames he’d endured once he’d reached the end of puberty.

Spear Ushijima was the first to come to mind and he grimaced, then rested back into a sitting position, cross-legged on the bed.

“We don’t have to do anything, I understand.” he said, flatly. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed it, concerned that he would look too upset. He smiled now instead to mask his disappointment and reached his arms out for you.

“We can cuddle. Oh, but if you would prefer that I put my clothes back on, I could do that too,” he said hurriedly, getting up to make his way off the bed, but you interrupted him by moving close and pressing a hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

And his surprised expression turned to another smile, more genuine this time, and he relaxed into your touch.

“___,” he whispered your name softly. You smiled, then keeping your eyes in fierce contact with his, you reached down to wrap your fingers around his considerable length. Even only semi-hard, the girth was impressive and you could feel the warmth shuttling in as he became aroused. His mouth parted just slightly in surprise.

“Are you sure?” His voice was already thick with lust.

“Yes,” you whispered, “but we’ll have to take it slow.” You added a smile to that last part and leaned forward to peck him on the lips once before you started to stroke him up and down his shaft.

He let out a soft moan and leaned back, watching you carefully as you worked your hand up and down his penis. You could tell he was trying very hard to keep still and let things run at your pace, and you relished in the opportunity fully.

“That… feels really good, ____,” he offered, his voice low and husky, and encouraged by his words, you added another hand, offering a few more pumps to his length before the piece de resistance to your lovely handjob, the application of your soft lips to his waiting cockhead.

He was already leaking a little precum, you could tell by the salt on your tongue as you licked at the slit at the tip of his member. He let out a low groan, and you could feel his muscles tense beneath you as he rose quickly.

“Y-you don’t have to if you don’t want-” he started, but you wouldn’t let him interrupt what you had going on.

“I want to, Toshi!” You exclaimed, almost indignantly, and as if to supplant that claim, you descended as far down his shaft as you could go in a fluid motion, but then to your misfortune, you must have triggered your gag reflex because you choked once then twice, and pulled yourself back to cough once more.

“Babe, are you okay?!”

Ushijima shot up like a board to hold you steady by the shoulders while you coughed, and as tears started to form in your eyes, you took one glance at his intense look of concern and you burst into laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

You doubled over onto him, laughing even more against his chest, which only made him more concerned as he wrapped you in his arms.

“I told you this was dangerous and this is why I held myself back, ___.”

You pulled back once more, tears welling into your eyes as you finally said through snorts:

“Can you PLEASE stop acting like your dick is a lethal weapon?”

The look on Ushijima’s face was that of such extreme shock that you were pretty sure you would never stop laughing, that your fate was now to perpetually cackle until you died of asphyxiation. He frowned again, and you felt just a little bad but still the mixture of stress and confusion and awkwardness and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation rendered you unable to stop.

And finally he added, “It might be funny to you but I’ve never done this before.”

That sobered you up enough that you actually did cease chuckling, and with a final, unintentional chuckle, you faced him seriously this time, your faces only inches apart.

“Is it really your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Another silence hung in the air, maybe because it was hard for you to believe that no one had ever touched him in this way or maybe because despite the fact that he looked either mildly irritated or severely embarrassed, you could still feel his erection hard against your lower belly and you weren’t sure if that meant you should continue (and to be honest, you really wanted to) or that sex was off the table for the time being.

But his arms were still wrapped around you, and you could feel the thump of his heart against your chest, and you wanted him, and you believed he wanted you too, and suddenly it was silly that you had been so intimidated in the first place.

Again you were caught staring into his eyes, and you felt warm again - different layering types of warm.

“Do you want to continue?” The two of you asked, almost in unison. You could hear the hint of persuasion, the please say yes in his voice.

You smiled, and pressed your lips to his again, and a hand went into your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and a hand went around your waist, securing you firmly against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your tongues danced together again, and when your hand found its way again around his member, he tensed for a moment, but then in a decision to ignore his reservations, broke your embrace to pepper kisses along your neck and into your bosom.

You moaned and arched your back, gripping his member just a little tighter, and he took the opportunity to circle his tongue around your nipple before taking the mound in your mouth.

Consumed in the feeling of him suckling you, you were unprepared for the thick fingers that found their way around and then onto your clit, rubbing gentle circles that sparked waves of pleasure through you. Another moan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and then he slid a finger inside you, pressing just hard enough and in just the right place that you jerked almost violently against him.

His finger slipped out almost as fast as it had gone in.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt good!” You reassured him. “P-please continue.”

He nodded, and replaced his finger, pressing more gingerly this time, using the slowing and deepening of your breaths to guide him. You occupied your mouth again with kisses along his collarbones, onto the expanse of his broad chest, pressing your breasts against him, rolling against him. His breaths also started to slow as he fell in rhythm with the way your hips moved, and when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he flipped you over onto your back so that you lay beneath him.

A pause.

His olive eyes scanned you ravenously, and you could hear the hunger sealed within his breathy sighs, as he hovered over you. Your half-lidded eyes, your body warm and receptive and waiting for him, stating in every way possible that you wanted him - it was like a dream for him. He had wanted this for so long, to know what your insides would feel like around him, to know if he too, could make you scream his name in pleasure not pain, to do what his friends and teammates did with their partners, and now here you were, laid out for him like a whole meal.

“Are you ready?”

You didn’t look down at the warm, throbbing length resting on right on your pubic area, but instead at him, your gentle giant, and nodded.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and shivered ever so slightly at the sensation of lubricant being slathered right at the opening of your vagina. You could feel him repositioning himself right at your entrance, and trying to stay as relaxed as possible for him, you waited for him to enter you.

And he did, interlacing fingers with yours as he broke through your sopping entrance, feeling your hold tighten around his and hearing your breath hitch then relax as his cockhead made it through you.

Then he stopped so you could adjust to the stretch, and he rested on his elbows, trying to rub the wince out of your facial expression with a caress of the cheek.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Keep going.”

He pushed a little further and you uttered another low moan with the painful, yet pleasurable stretch, and he almost felt guilty for how good you felt around him, how desperately he wanted to fill you up all at once, how aroused he was by the sound of your whimper as you felt him.

“K-keep going,” you mewled as soon as he stopped to let you adjust, and he worried that he really would tear you apart this time, but you clung to his chest again and his desire to go as far into your guts as possible was too much for him to bear.

A groan and he was in almost to the hilt, and he wiped the tears forming in your eyes as you endured the searing pain, the pressure of him stretching you to your limit. The fact that he wasn’t moving was starting to become excruciating for you, and you began to squirm under his weight, indicating your wishes.

“Are you okay, my love?” He murmured carefully.

“Toshi, m-move, please…”

He obliged, withdrawing just a bit to crash back into you, and you cried out but not in pain, in a strangled cry of pleasure.

“Toshi!”

Again!

He could hear the cry for more in the way you said his name and the force with which you dug your nails into his back and again he obliged, thrusting into you again, and you could feel your head spin.

Again!

He settled into a rhythm and stroke after stroke you could feel yourself wind up, your cries and moans and grunts of pleasure loud and clear for him, for all to hear.

“Toshi- ah~!”

His pace quickened every time you called his name and his angle changed so that he was deep enough that it was almost uncomfortable (almost), and he was now grunting, sweating, making sure to leave no part of you untouched. Your thighs clamped around his waist and you muffled your cries into the meat of his shoulder, clinging to him so tightly you thought you would meld into one.

Ushijima was moaning your name now, enthralled by the way your insides, your outsides clamped onto him, claimed his body for you, and he couldn’t believe he had been nervous about this part of the relationship, you had been perfect every other way…

Your coil snapped suddenly, and your orgasm rippled through you like electricity, and now he was muffling your moans with his tongue down your throat, fingers wrapped firmly around your jaw keeping you in place.

“You came?” He whispered in a gruff voice, now into the space between your breasts, his dick still throbbing and twitching within you. The thrum of yes vibrating through your body brought a grin to his face.

He rose up off your body again so he could look at your eyes, glazed over in a love-drunken haze, and finally, he was no longer concerned but confident - dare you say it, cocky - as he hovered above you.

“Let’s aim for at least twice tonight.”

A promise he kept.

The first time would be a time to remember, in more ways than one.

#mae.writing #daddyjima #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #not sfw #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima #wakatoshi #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!

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bright-eyes-strawberry-lies · 3 years

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Rating PJO Ships

I already made the PJO shipping jar meme (not linking because tumblr hates links) but thought I’d write it out anyway.

***

Solangelo - (5/10) Will is Nico’s unnecessary rebound because Rick couldn’t let someone walk around with a crush on Percy without pairing them off with someone or making them live a life of chastity. The fandom went wild with this ship despite all of their “development” being off the page. Would be better if the building attraction and relationship was given actual page time to develop instead of being rushed.

Frazel - (10/10) My only complaint is that we didn’t get more of them being the awesome couple they are. The way they went from friends to lovers is perfect. Looks cute but can kick your ass. Very supportive of each other. I am here for biracial power couples.

Lukercy - (10/10) There are literally dozens of parallels between them and Rick wrote them as soulmates. I love that Luke trained Percy so hard that Percy’s never lost a sword fight except to Luke himself and still hears Luke’s voice in his head guiding him through fights. The subtle ways that Luke constantly gave Percy (and Co) chances to escape from Kronos’ grasp even when he still believed in Kronos was golden. Luke was the only person who was kind to Percy at Camp Half-Blood and trusted Percy to help other demigods when he died? My heart. How Percy now shares all of Luke’s views on the Olympians? Bittersweet irony. I wish that Luke hadn’t died because I’m tired of writing resurrection AUs.

Percico - (10/10) The most powerful power couple. Nico’s youthful hero worship giving way to love? Sign me up. Percy spending winter looking for Nico to keep him safe and trying to reassure him that he has a place at Camp Half-Blood? Give me more. Making mistakes and forgiving each other for them and their relationship strengthening because of it? Gods, yes. Going to Italy to go gift shopping and flirting? Thank you for this blessing, Rick. If only they had been endgame.

Thaliabeth - (7/10) Thalia is the only person that Annabeth respects and Thalia has extremely protective feelings toward Annabeth. They would be the nightmare power couple. Murder wives who slay anyone who stands in their way of power and glory. Neither of them would take shit from the other. And honestly, I’m here for it.

Perachel - (10/10) Mutual respect and open communication are extremely sexy in relationships. Rachel being Percy’s mortal tie and his chance at a normal life; Percy being the one to help Rachel with her powers and clear sight? Please yes. They were really cute and sweet and had so much chemistry. It would have been great if Rick acknowledged that the Oracle isn’t a lifelong job and that Rachel can still date and have sex as long as it isn’t vaginal penetration.

Percabeth - (0/10) Annabeth hits, pinches, pokes, kicks, ribs, and punches Percy too often for my tastes. She’s got a superiority complex and makes herself feel better by calling him stupid, crazy, and insane. Constantly threatens violence. Annabeth is possessive, jealous, refuses to communicate, and doesn’t respect Percy or allow him to have autonomy. She constantly wants to control what he says and does or doesn’t say/do. She victim blames him multiple times for incidents that were beyond Percy’s control. Percy is scared of her, refuses to argue so that he doesn’t set her off, and thinks Annabeth is going to hurt him every time she so much as looks at him. Percy deserves better.

Jiper - (5/10) It would have been cool to see them work past the lies and false memories to make a real romantic relationship but I don’t really have a horse in that race. They’re alright. Not bad, not the best.

Pipeo - (7/10) If the theory that all of Piper’s memories of Jason were actually memories of Leo is true, then I’m here for this. The fact that they were friends before they even knew they were demigods was fantastic. Give me that friends to lovers dynamic and the chaotic trouble they would get into together. They would be unstoppable.

Caleo - (5/10) Pairing Calypso up with a man boy instead of a man man was a strange choice but Rick likes pairing up teenagers with beings that are over a thousand years old. It’s terribly romantic that Leo kept his promise and came back for Calypso. I like that they decided to leave the demigod life behind to do their own thing. They’ve had enough of the gods! Let them figure themselves out and enjoy each other and life.

Connabeth - (4/10) The idea is cute if you don’t think about it at all. I think Connor would stand up to Annabeth but she’s been known to wear down three thousand year old centaurs [Chiron] so that he’ll do what she wants...so I’m not sure that Connor actually stands a chance of holding his own against Annabeth.

Lukethan - (4/10) It would be really cute but they’ve never even spoken to each other in canon. Ethan spoke with Kronos.

Thaluke - (2/10) Thalia doesn’t like Luke. She withheld a lot of [trivial] information from Luke just because she could and didn’t tell him important info either. She almost definitely knew that Luke would do whatever she wanted him to because she’s got a Look that makes him melt. Thalia is incredibly eager to kill Luke and eventually does. Luke is too dependent and blinded by how much he wanted someone to love him. They’ve got an unhealthy dynamic and I don’t see either of them changing to become better people together.

Valdangelo - (6/10) They’re both small and cute. That’s all I’ve got. There’s no reason not to ship them. Oh, and Leo warming up a cold Nico with his fire powers is so sweet that I’ve got cavities just thinking about it.

Jasico - (9/10) Rick was really writing them with romantic troupes during Mark of Athena and House of Hades. When they were paired off with other people, I was actually really surprised. The way that Jason supports Nico’s queerness and the way that Nico can teach Jason that he doesn’t have to live up to stereotypes and other people's expectations...that would have been really good to read. The way that Jason’s death affected Nico really tugged at my heartstrings. I like to think that Nico visits Jason in the Underworld.

Thalianca - (6/10) The potential of Thalia and Bianca could have been so good and also good for comedy. Imagine Thalia - who missed the past five years - trying to catch Bianca up on the 21st century and being behind on the times. Both of them getting caught up together? Yes. Training together, friendly games and competitions. Midnight rendezvous at Camp Half-Blood. Bianca slowly showing Thalia that not all Hunters of Artemis are bad. Girls supporting each other and growing as people because of their relationship. This is what we could have had.

#pjo #percabeth #jasico #thalianca #valdangelo #connabeth #thaluke #perachel #lukercy #lukethan #caleo #pipeo #liper #jiper #solangelo #percico #thaliabeth #frazel

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