#sometimes it’s wild to even admit to any of it cause I buried it from EVERYONE

[gingersnapsblonde]

Ahm more vent stuff my brain is all over the place today

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝕬𝖍, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪: what we do in the shadows

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you’re a half-blood vampire and you take your first victim.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: canon typical themes, brief cathartic violence, (implied) attempted sa, minor character death, blo0d (obviously)

𝔞/𝔫: the ending may be a bit rushed I just really wanted to post this already

“I was bitten, I believe…” you began, pausing for a moment to do some math in your head, wiggling one of your feet as you sat on the couch. “Two months ago. And y’know, in terms of vampirism, being a half-blood has its perks.” you continued with a shrug.

The scene cuts to you sitting in your bedroom in the light of the sun, completely unharmed. And your bed wasn’t a coffin, but took a similar shape. You gave the coffin a try once when you were first turned, but you couldn’t really sleep. Another scene showed you snacking on a Kit-Kat while reading.

“I can still eat human food, though I am garlic intolerant now, which is kind of a bummer. But that’s not even my biggest problem.”

The camera shows footage of you unscrewing the cap on a liter bottle containing a thick, dark burgundy liquid before pouring it into a glass.

“My vampire half still needs blood, like once or twice a week. Found that out the hard way.”

During your first week of being a vampire, you got very lightheaded and fainted in the middle of the hall since you hadn’t drank any blood since turning. Since you could digest human food, you could go a bit longer than most vampires without blood, but you still needed it.

“Straight up, I’m not a fan. Drinking it is one thing, draining it from the body is another.” you admitted, shaking your head and shrugging. “I ju- I can’t. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

Thankfully, Lazlo had recently taken a victim that day so they gathered enough spare blood out of the chap to give to you.

The cameras cut to an interview with Lazlo and Nadja, sitting side by side as per usual.

“We don’t really mind saving blood for them sometimes,” Nadja said. “Most of our victims, we don’t even finish all the way.”

The footage cuts to a short scene of Nadja holding up a still bleeding victim by the shirt whilst Guillermo holds the aforementioned liter bottle with a funnel in the top to collect blood, grimacing and trying to just focus on keeping the funnel in the bottle.

“Yes, but we do believe it’s about time they learn to attain blood for themself.” Lazlo said, and Nadja nodded in agreement. “The only thing I’ve seen them drain was a goose. And even after that, they insisted on burying it.”

“Even though it bit the shit out of them.” Nadja added. “In the wild, baby animals rely on their mothers for sustenance for the first few months of their lives before learning to hunt for themselves. (Name) is kind of like our weird little pup.”

You knew they were right. You had been a vampire for two months, and you still had yet to take a human victim. The problem was that you would always overthink it. For one thing, you didn’t want to kill an innocent person, but he cause of all the ‘what if’s, you couldn’t really detect anyone really deserving of such a gruesome and sudden death. Curse this big heart of yours. Plus it was New York, and Staten Island for that matter. Who knows where these people have been and what’s running through their veins?

But half-blood or not, learning to hunt is essential.

Anyway, you were walking through the streets one night with the others since they had recently found a good hunting ground and didn’t want to leave you alone in the house. Nandor suggested that maybe one of them would have the general disposition of a goose and you could drain them. You weren’t too sure about that, but thanked him anyway.

Now, one of the perks of your vampire half was an enhanced sense of hearing, and because of this, you overheard a conversation from inside one of the apartments,

“I’m should really go now… I can’t stand up.”

That made you stop. If your blood wasn’t already running cold, it just got colder. Guillermo seemed to notice you falling behind. “(Name), are you still coming?”

“Uh, yeah, um..” you hesitated, glancing between them and the apartment, bouncing on your feet slightly. “I’ll uh.. I’ll meet you guys there, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”

Before they could respond, you turned into a bat and flew up towards wherever the voice came from. A knot began to form in your tiny stomach as you dreaded what you might find, and when you came up to the window, your suspicions were confirmed as you peered into the dimly lit room. That was all you needed to bare your teeth and shift back into your human form, rearing your foot back to kick the window open.

It seemed the universe noticed you needed incentive and answered.

Nadja wiped some excess blood from her jaw and licked her lips, humming contently. It had been only been about twenty minutes since you went off on your own, and she hoped you were alright, wondering what you could have been doing. As if on cue, she heard a familiar squeaking and the sound of little wings flapping towards them.

“Nadja! Nadja Nadja Na-”

POOF

“Nadja!” you exclaimed joyfully after landing on your feet and regaining your composure. All three vampires and one human turned to face your direction, and were surprised to see you with a beaming smile on your blood stained face. “I did it!” you exclaimed with excitement, panting slightly.

Realization dawned on the pod of vampires, and Nadja’s smile grew to match your own.

“All by yourself?” “Yes!!”

Laughter filled the air as Nadja pulled you in for a short hug. You sighed in exhilaration, “Call em crazy but I kinda wanna do it again.”

“We have plenty of time before the sun rises again,” Lazlo said, smiling proudly at you with a hand around your shoulders as you walked with them. “Plenty of time to get your practice in.”

Yeah, you were gonna do just like fine.

[paradisepoisoned]

always so ready to scream about meronia... 5 random headcanons for them, i beg of you

OMG YES ok it was hard what five to pick and this is gonna be long winded but fuck it I'm excited lol also I apologize in advance if this is senseless rambling I am not a very articulate person 😅

1-so I have this headcanon that Near and Mello both each have like their own little spice of PTSD or something, and they are the only ones who can kinda talk each other down in a way. I always Imagined Mello being born in Croatia during the Yugoslav wars and just living through horrendous trauma (this could be a post in itself so I'm gonna refrain because I have so many thoughts on Mello pre-wammys house but ANYWAY) and I don't really think he ever had time to process it, like he was living in a war torn country, everything he once knew, his family, everything blown apart and all of sudden he's at a prestigious secret orphanage for geniuses in England. So he kinda just buried it and didnt look back and dedicated everything to making L proud hoping that would be enough to make it go away but obviously it's not and so sometimes when he hears firecrackers or a siren or even one of Matt's videogames it fucking SENDS him and one day Near catches Mello hyperventilating in the hallway and Near shows him a breathing technique and breathes with him till he stops and Mello fucking hates him cause it works and it's something he uses the rest of his life and he thinks of Near.  Near only knows the breathing technique cause he also gets panic attacks but what gets Near the most is the nightmares. The nightmares send him into thrashing fits but the worst is the sleep paralysis. It would happen one of the first few nights when they slept together and Mello would stroke his cheek or hold his hand and talk him through it or recite a passage from a book, anything to distract him. Near never says what the nightmares are about or what he sees during sleep paralysis and Mello never pushes it.They don't know what the other went through but there is a mutual unspoken understanding and I feel like that is the closest they ever get to affection 

2-I feel like this is a really unpopular headcanon and not really accurate but idc I think Near secretly resents L. Idk why but I just like this headcanon. I picture Near to be a bit of a bitter person and I think he blames Mello's hatred for him on L though he'd never admit it  and tbh I don't think Near had any desire to become L at all I think he was apathetic towards everything at first it wasn't until Mello came along that he started feeling alive. Near never cared about being L. He cared about the game he and Mello played. I also think mellos admiration of L would just solidify Near's disdain and I would imagine they've gotten into a fight or two about the integrity of L's character. 

3-I think both would deny it but they can make each other laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I think they would fight it but every once in a while like on a full moon or some shit Near would make a snarky comment at someone or Mello would make a face behind rogers back and before they could stop themselves it would come out. They are mortified at how the others laughter makes there heart skip a beat and neither would admit to this under torture.

4-I think Mello is one of the only people who knows Near is secretly a disturbed basket case and hear me out lol. Mello is probably the closest Near has ever gotten to someone and this is already turning into a thesis so I'm not gonna get into my headcanons for Near pre wammys but ya boy has ISSUES. Like one day Mello would catch Near doing something wild like trashing A's old room (idk I have a headcanon that A and B's room stayed like mausoleums at the orphanage and it was like a ghost story) and Mello would get the blame for it cause who would fucking believe him if he said Near did it. So he gets grounded for a week and Near slips him chocolate under the door as a silent apology. 

5-Linda and Roger put together a funeral for Mello and Matt. Near did not attend. 

 I'm sorry this turned into a Ted Talk without almost any punctuation, but it feels good to scream about these two thank you loll

[reverie-starlight]

Hi! I hope you’re doing great <3

Could u write smthn w Kuroo where his s/o does or says smthn to which he responds “you’re gonna get kissed for that.”

If u can’t or don’t want to, it’s perfectly ok. Have a great day/night! :D

this is so cute! kuroo literally used to be my favourite character and lately he’s been slowly making his way back up to top 5, so this ask is good for me. thank you for requesting, I hope you have a good day/night as well! <3

{you’re gonna get kissed for that - kuroo}

gender neutral reader!

warnings: none just fluff!! some swearing.

Note: I know his bday is in november, so for the sake of this fic, pretend it’s november.

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

“Y/n! Where are you?”

You were currently hiding from your fiancé in the clothing section of the department store.

Attempting to find a gift for him for his upcoming birthday proved to be difficult when he insisted on going with you before you left the apartment.

You noticed him rounding a corner so you dove in between the racks of clothes, successfully startling a young girl and her mother. You begged them to not say anything until Kuroo left the area.

He passed by without a second glance in your direction, a confused frown on his face that almost made you feel guilty for ditching him in the shoe section.

Almost.

Kuroo was not an easy person to evade. He was very observant and always seemed to know where you were even if you didn’t let him know beforehand.

He liked to joke that he had some sort of built in y/n-radar. It was cute, and you’ll admit- it saved you from getting lost too many times, but you really hated it around the holidays or special occasions and you had no choice but to bring him with you for shopping.

Times like now. You couldn’t just say no to him going with you, ‘cause then he’d know you were birthday shopping. He’d just end up snooping or pestering you until you slipped up until he either found it or got it out of you.

So far the only solution to this issue that you’d discovered was to get him distracted and then literally run from him and hide as you made your way around the store.

You sighed as you stepped out of the clothing rack, fixing your hair and not wasting any time before heading over to the game section to see if anything there would be good enough to gift him.

But, of course, the game could only go on for so long and you were running out of hiding places.

You shrieked as someone ran up behind you and latched onto your waist.

“Found you,” sang Kuroo as he buried his nose into your neck.

“Fuck, Tetsurou, you scared me!”

He spun you around to face him and raised an eyebrow. “I scared you? You literally ran from me and sent me on a wild y/n chase for the better part of an hour, but I scared you.”

You nodded. “Exactly!”

You were disappointed at having been found before you could find a gift for him but you still had some time. Maybe I can come back on my way home from work tomorrow? Or I can get Kenma to keep him busy on Saturday…

Grabbing his hand, you started to make your way to the snack aisle. You knew you had no chance of getting away from him again, but you weren’t leaving the store without at least buying something to snack on during movie night (read: on the car ride home).

After you paid and got settled in the car, Kuroo brought it up. “Hey, y/n…” he started.

“Mhmm?” You were focused on the gummy worm in front of you, trying to figure out where it’s head was.

“Why do you run from me in the store sometimes? Do you not want to hang out with me when we shop? Are you running because I did something wrong?”

You looked over at him, panicked. “No, baby, of course not! That’s not why I do that at all, I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”

He frowned, making a right turn. “Then why?”

You sighed. You might as well tell him- you never wanted to make him feel bad. “Your y/n radar. You always seem to find me and the only way to dull it down is to run and hide.”

The car was silent for a minute as he pulled into the parking lot by your apartment building.

“But… why do you want to dull it?” He sounded confused as he parked the car and grabbed the bags.

“Because your birthday is coming up and the whole reason I was at that store was to try and find you a gift. You’re hard to shop for sometimes and you always get me the best gifts, but I didn’t want you to know that’s what I was shopping for ‘cause then you’d snoop.”

You guys walked into the building and got on the elevator. You waited for the doors to open on your floor.

“Also,” you added playfully, “the thrill of it is fun. Like an intense game of hide-and-seek.”

He snickered at that, getting off the elevator and walking to your door to unlock it.

“In all seriousness, though, Tetsu, I just wanted to make this birthday special for you, and that all starts with a super awesome gift for a super awesome fiancé. But I won’t run anymore. As long as you promise not to snoop or pester me about your gifts.”

He sat on one of the stools by the kitchen island and wrapped his arms around your waist. You ran a hand through his hair as he grinned up at you, clearly feeling better.

“Okay, that’s a deal.” His eyes filled with mischief.

“Uh oh, what’s up?”

“I’m gonna get my revenge on you for running, don’t think you’re totally off the hook, my love,” he rose from his seat. “And all that sweet stuff you said just now? Yeah, you’re gonna get kissed for all that.”

He started walking you backwards to the couch and you narrowed your eyes at him, grinning. “Kisses aren’t punishment, genius. You’d only be doing me a favour.”

He hummed as he tackled you to the couch, making you giggle as he settled on top of you and got close to your face. “Yeah, but they are when I don’t let up on them and you can’t escape.”

Light kisses were placed all over your face and neck and you laughed harder at the ticklish feeling. You tried to get away, but true to his word, you couldn’t escape.

You’d just have to go find a gift another day. For now you were enjoying the time spent with your fiancé, even if he was a menace sometimes.

[moonlit-reveriee]

NSFW Alphabet

ft. technoblade

concept: a collection of my own personal nsfw headcanons for techno, one for each letter of the alphabet

@saturnsstufff ‘s discord saw it first ;)

A = Aftercare 

I like the idea that techno actually gets very clingy after sex. He’ll get up and grab a glass of water or a towel if either of you need it, but if he’s able to, he’ll stay glued to your side the whole time. Even if he won’t admit it, he needs to have that intimacy after sex. He loves the feeling of your body pressed against his as you both cool down. Usually, his hands will be absentmindedly drawing patterns over your skin

B = Body part 

Kind of an oddly specific one, but he loves your shoulders. He loves to casually rest his chin on them as he holds you from behind, and bury his face in the crook of your neck as he presses heated kisses on your pulse point. He also considers the way a person carries their shoulders to be an indication of their strength, and how could he see anything but strength in you.

He hadn’t put much thought into his own body before meeting you. He’s learned to love parts of himself because of you. Particularly his scars. They way you gently run your fingers across the rough surface of them, in both intimate and casual settings, made him crave the touch. Now when he looks at them, he thinks of your hands moving across his skin

C = Cum 

Fun fact: pigs have 30 minute orgasms

Early on in your sexual relationship, he was very embarrassed by just how much of it there always was. But once you started praising him for it, that became a very different story. He started to take pride in how well he could completely fill you up without even trying

D = Dirty Secret 

He would probably never admit it to you, but it’s become a habit of his to think about the last time he had sex with you during battles. He starts to make sure you two always have sex the night before a big fight, so his mind can wander back to it during the haze of battle. He’s not sure if it’s a coping mechanism or what but it certainly helps

E = Experience 

You are his first ever sexual partner, but somehow he just.... already knows what he’s doing?? He’s very nervous and considerate the first time, but he does everything perfectly. Once you tell him that, he’s very happy and secretly a bit proud of himself

F = Favourite Position 

He loooves to have you in his lap. Either facing him, back to chest, it doesn’t matter. He’ll do everything with you in his lap. Cockwarming, fingering, thigh riding, anything you and him are physically able to do in that position

G = Goofy 

He’s usually a bit more on the serious side. Sometimes the two of you will quip at each other during foreplay, but once he gets going, it’s all business. In the moment, he likes to treat is as something special (doesn’t mean he won’t tease you about things after the fact)

H = Hair 

He likes to keep himself clean-shaven most of the time. When he’s relaxed and doesn’t have to go to any public events for a long period of time, he’ll let a small amount of stubble grow on his chin. You can always tell when he slacks off on it, cause the stubble on his face brushes roughly against your skin as he kisses down your body...

he doesn’t really shave much below the neck, but he keeps it clean and trims occasionally

I = Intimacy 

He’s surprisingly romantic when he wants to be. It’s definitely a side of him only you’re allowed to see. Alone together in his bed, he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you as he slowly draws you to your climax. Even when he’s speaking the most lewd and naughty things to you, he somehow makes them sound affectionate and full of love

J = Jack Off 

He loves to watch you masturbate. The first time was a complete accident. He came home late one night to find you curled up with his blankets, breathing heavily as you massaged yourself over your underwear. It wasn’t long before you noticed him in the doorway and jumped, worthlessly attempting to hide what you were doing. He wasn’t sure if it was the blush on your face or the fact that the blanket you chose to cover yourself in was his cape but something urged him to sit on the edge of the bed, still in his armor, and ask you to continue. It was beautiful to simply sit there and watch

K = Kink 

He’s a little bit possessive. He loves to mark you in subtle ways so you always remember that you’re his. Especially if you’re going on a trip without him. He’ll drape you in gold jewelry and leave a hickey just out of sight on your neck for good measure. The part that he loves the most about it though, is that you know exactly what he’s doing and show off his signs of possession with pride

L = Location 

He prefers to keep most of your sexual acts to the area in and around his cottage. Other than in bed, he loves to press you up against a wall. Sometimes you two get distracted while tending to the farms and end up heatedly making out in the snow. One time, you decide you wanted to lay out some blankets on the floor and do it right in front of the fireplace. He adored the way the firelight danced across your skin. (He’s thought about taking you down to the syndicate room and laying you out across the table. But he came to the unfortunate conclusion that during meetings, he’d never be able to look anyone straight in the eyes ever again. So he’s shelved that idea for the time being. Maybe once the group has disbanded...)

M = Motivation

He loves to be praised by you. During regular day-to-day life, he doesn’t like to accept any compliments from you, usually just brushing them off or responding with a joke. But when you two are alone together and intimate, he drinks that shit up. How can he not believe it when you look up and him with lidded eyes and tell him just how good he makes you feel. Just moaning against his lips as he kisses you is enough to keep him going for a while

N = NO 

He will never do anything that involves seeing your own blood. It sets off the voices too much. One day, you randomly got a nosebleed while cooking dinner together. He could smell it before he even saw it. When the voices recognized the deep red color dripping down your face, they wouldn’t stop chanting. He tried to help you clean up, but it became too much to ignore. He had to go out back and slaughter at least a dozen zombies before they shut up. And even then, he was left with a pounding headache. You were extra gentle and sweet with him when you cuddled up in bed together that night

O = Oral 

If you’re on the receiving end, be prepared for him to be down there a looooong time. Once he gets his mouth on you, it’s hard for him to pull away. He loves your smell and taste too much. He tries not to get too carried away, but there was one time he made you come 5 times in a row with just his mouth. He was very thorough with his aftercare that night.

He isn’t the one receiving very often. He only really likes it when he’s tired. He loves to sit back in a chair and watch you gently suck him of on your knees in front of him, one hand gently weaving it’s way through your hair

P = Pace 

I always imagine him on the slower side. He likes to savor every moment, making sure that every thrust or movement of his hand is intentional and perfectly placed. He takes time to watch you carefully to make sure you’re getting exactly what you need. He’ll go harder before he goes faster

Q = Quickie 

As much as he loves to treasure your intimate time together, there are times where he just needs it. Every once and awhile, he’ll be desperate for it and quickly have you against the wall before heading out to run some errands. Sometimes he’ll pull you in, make you cum, and head out the door without saying a single word. He usually feels the need to make up for it when he returns, but you’ve assured him many times that you love sex with him at any pace

R = Risk 

Since he’s still fairly inexperienced despite his skills, he’s not super adventurous himself. More often than not, you’re the one bringing new ideas to the relationship. He’s willing to try the new things you suggest. You’ve had a discussion about your limits, and you both understand what goes too far for each other

S = Stamina 

He can go multiple times in a row if he wants to, and for a long time. He lowkey loves it when you tire out before him, and you let him keep going while you lie there sleepily in his arms

T = Toy 

He doesn’t own any sex toys, but he likes to make sex toys out of everyday objects (as long as they’re safe and properly cleaned of course). He likes the idea of never being able to look at that object the same way again, especially if it’s something either of you use around the house frequently. He would get his hands on some actual toys if you wanted him to. If toys are involved, he prefers them to be used on you, not on him

U = Unfair 

He likes to randomly tease you during moments that are absolutely not sexual. Maybe you’re brushing out his hair, complaining about the knots in it. He’ll suddenly respond with “that’s not what you told me in the bedroom last night” leaving you to sit there in shock while he laughs. Or he’ll quote things you said to him during sex completely deadpan and watch as the blush rises to your cheeks

V = Volume 

He’s not extremely loud. When he is loud though, he growls. You’ll be able to feels his chest vibrating when you lean into him. Sometimes you can even feel the vibrations through his lips as he pleasures you with his mouth, which is an absolutely crazy and wonderful feeling.

During very domestic moments, he likes to talk a lot during sex. If he comes home from working all day, and he’s missing you greatly, he loves to tell you all about his day while his cock gently rocks inside of you

W = Wild Card 

This part is definitely just gonna be me fulfilling one of my personal kinks, but I love the idea of techno going through a heat since he’s part piglin. Maybe it only happens like once a year, but when it’s that time, his senses are kicked into high gear and he’s desperate for you. The two of you have a routine for it by now. You prepare the bedroom by gathering every blanket in the house, and prepping a week’s worth of food & water that can be eaten quickly during the moments when techno’s haze of arousal drops. Once he feels it start to set in, he locks the bedroom door and allows his senses to become completely enveloped by you

X = X-Ray 

I like to believe that a lot of the hybrid races are PACKING. It’s one of the many things he’s nervous about on your first time, but seeing the way your able to take him so well every time is such a turn on

Y = Yearning 

Both you and him can be too tired to have sex at times, but if he’s able to have you, he’ll take everything he can get. He loves to take care of you if you’ve had a long day, and he knows you’ll do the same for him

Z = ZZZ 

If it’s nighttime sex, he can pass out as soon as aftercare is over. But if it’s morning or midday, he can have sex and go about the rest of his day no problem. Since his orgasms are so long, he likes to make you cum more often than he does, and watching you cum invigorates him

[pxppet]

Enemies to Lovers – ‘Pride’

A day late but here’s Day 19 from @egoship-stuff‘s Proud Egos 2022! This is a Soft Anti AU where he decided to stop terrorising the town and the egos after realising he had fallen in love with the hero tracking him down. 

⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶⫶

“Just think of us five months ago,” Jackie giggles, curled up in bed and wrapped around a lump of blankets. “It’s really funny if you actually think about it y’know-”

“Jackie,” the lump scolds. “It is fucking 4 a.m. and I’m in the middle of a podcast.” Anti curls up even further into his blankets. Jackie pokes at his face, whining softly.

“C’monnn, Glitchy, you know you love me!”

“Nope, not one bit. I still think of killing you every day.” Anti smirks and pushes his headphones down over his ears. “La la la, oh what’s that, is there a dumb fucking hero rambling at me?”

Jackie whumps him on the head with a pillow, and in seconds Anti dives on top of him and pinches his ear roughly. Jackie suddenly gasps, eyes widening, and throws his hands out around Anti’s throat. Anti freezes up and stares down at him, a breath caught in his scarred throat. They stare at each other intensely. He slowly forces himself to untense, though.

“’S okay, Jacks. ‘S just me, just me…” Anti soothes at his partner, letting go of his ear and sitting up on Jackie’s lap, raising his hands. Jackie shakes out his head, faintly touching a long stripe of a scar on the side of his head. Anti withers with guilt, practically shrinking in on himself.

“No- no, Anti it’s okay!” Jackie sits up - causing Anti to fall against him - and holds his boyfriend to his chest. “Sorry. I just… when you get aggressive, sometimes I remember… when we were enemies instead. You still act like that sometimes. Like that villain. But I know you’re trying!”

Jackie brushes a hand through his hair, then rests his chin against the gentle brown curls. Not green. In fact, today there’s no green on Anti at all. He is soft in the light of the bedside lamp, curly brown hair with streaks of ginger, deep blue eyes, and a clean navy-blue hoodie. He looks nothing like Antisepticeye, the murderous villain terrorizing Jackie’s city. He looks like Jack. He looks like any of Jackie’s friends and family. He has been too scared to share their relationship with the others ever since they got together, but sometimes, when he looks this soft and sweet, Jackie wants to show him off like the handsome boyfriend he is to him.

Anti pulls back and looks up at him. “You can… really tell I’m trying?” Jackie nods and smiles at him. Anti huffs. “Wish the fuckin’ pigs agreed with you, honestly,” he jokes. Jackie laughs and hugs him tight against his bright red hoodie once again.

“Jackie, you’re suffocating me, asshole!” Anti punches his arm and laughs, wild and glitching slightly at the edges, face buried in between Jackie’s pecs. Jackie just laughs and shoves him in further, before suddenly releasing him. Anti topples backwards onto the bed, taking a massive, exaggerated breath in. “You bitch, are you still trying to kill me, huh?” Anti laughs and crawls back up to his side of the bed.

“No!” Jackie says, a little too serious in his tone. “I definitely gave that up. You’re… too important to me.” Anti turns his face away to hide the blush that creeps across it. Jackie wraps around him once again, softly kissing the back of his neck. “I promise I love you, bug,” Jackie assures quietly. 

Anti just curls up further, not able to get the facts of the situation out of his mind. Jackie’s friends despise him. The city hates him. The cops are hunting him. It’s too dangerous to admit how in love he is. But for now, curled up in bed, blue and brown and safe, he can put aside his pride, and promise it in return.

“I love you too, JBM.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Prompt: Vampire Chris drunk on blood?

CW: Drunkenness, drug addiction, blood drinking, vampirism, creepy abusive comfort, WWI-period-appropriate xenophobia and brief vague possible homophobia reference, dehumanization, war whump

"Now, that'll get you blotto faster'n French liquor," Kirk says, sinking back against the muddy trench wall, careless for the dirt caking itself into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His helmet lay beside him upside down on the ground, and his brown hair was free to explode in its wealth of curls, a kind of halo around his head. He had one arm out, sleeve rolled back. His hands were caked in mud and smeared with drying dirt - above the line of his sleeve, though, the skin was paper-white, almost clammy.

It was this white skin that the vampire's fangs were buried in.

"Shit, Holden, y'gotta have 'im bite you, too." Kirk's grin widens. The shells had gone silent but every man flinches, now and then, hearing a phantom sound or feeling a rumble beneath their feet.

At least it's finally stopped goddamn raining.

The venom rolls through Kirk's veins, soothing his jangled nerves. He can barely feel the trembling in his hands and it feels like his mind, when it's in him. He's a farm kid from western Nebraska, the second son and not needed so much as the first to bring the crops in. So here he is, learning to love the feeling of teeth in his skin.

Maybe when he gets shipped back home he'll stick to the cities. They say the vampires have their dens there, where they can hide. You can buy venom enough to quiet your mind for a day or two, the city boys tell him.

They're in it as deep as he is, now.

Feels like half the American army is itching for venom these days.

"No thank you. I'm not gonna get sent home and start chasing fangs like the rest of you." Holden squints, looking up into the dark sky, the rolling clouds that seem far too close to the ground. "It'll rain again soon."

"When isn't it going to rain again soon? Oh, right, when it's already bloody raining." That's a Brit, they just call him Tommy. No one knows his real name.

He claims to hate them all, but since half his unit was blasted apart two days ago, he's hung with the 'Yanks' close enough. Kirk thinks he's fond of them, even if he won't admit it. Or just scared to be alone. He can understand that. He's terrified of the thought himself. "Shove the little vamp over to me, Kirk, I want some."

The vampire pulls his fangs free, licking over the wounds he's made until they close. He's a skinny little thing, pale as paper with bright red hair they stuff under his helmet when he's running medic checks in No Man's Land, trying to make him less obvious. Sure, he can't die from gas, but he can be blown to bits by a whizz-bang fast as any living soldier can.

"Please," The vampire says, turning big green eyes up to Kirk. "I, I, I'm tired, please, can I sleep?"

He's got heavy dark circles under his eyes. It's kind of cute.

"No," Kirk answers, curt, shoving the vampire away by his head, watching him fall into the mud. His uniform is marked with it, now, a dab of dirt over the 'V' sewn next to his medic's cross. There's a satisfaction, in Kirk, just in seeing the little thing laid low.

He won't die in this war, and Kirk probably will, but before that happens he can at least hurt something he can see. You can't see old Fritz when you fire on him from a distance - but you can see a vampire flinch in the dirt. It's not much.

It's something.

"Must be daytime," Holden speaks up, still staring up at the clouds. "You can't tell, weather like this, but if the fangs're tryin' to sleep, must be day."

"He sleeps when we're done with him, and not a moment before." Kirk's voice is a murmur, eyes half-closed. He's drifting in it, the way the venom dulls and deadens the eternal ache in his back and legs. The Germans could come roaring over the bags right this second and Kirk wouldn't give a damn at all. Let them kill him, at least he can go with venom in his veins, not as a basket case carried off the field. "Not a second before. Go on, bloodsucker. Get over to Tommy and help him get some shut-eye, huh?"

"I've been drinking all night, pulled some rations off someone," Tommy groans, rubbing his fingers at his temples. "It's done no good at all." It's a funny little gesture, so oddly normal and casual. Reminds Kirk of home.

His throat tries to close, homesickness bowling him over. The wish to return to his mother's worn smile, sit down to dinner and have her ask him about his day, when his problems revolved around the harvest and the hard backs of the pews in church-

He takes a breath, forcing it back, and gives the vampire a vicious kick in the ribs, listening to his high-pitched cry and how he curls around himself with a smile of his own.

Oh, he'll die, probably. The others from his town already have. But he can remind himself he's still alive, for now. One way or another. He can cause pain he can't feel himself, for once.

"I said get over to Tommy and smooth out his sharp bits, bloodfuck."

"Yes, um, y-yes, Kirk," The vampire says, pulling himself onto his hands and knees. His fingers are smashed into the mud deep enough to nearly disappear. If they could only get a few days of sunlight to dry out all this dirt, it wouldn't be such hell.

As it is, his socks've been damp for weeks, his boots feel like they're caging his feet in a swamp. He's worried about trenchfoot and trying not to think about it. He stole these boots off a dead German when his own started to fall apart, anyway.

He could've probably gotten new ones, but... it had felt good, taking something from Fritz after Fritz took so much from him.

Kirk tries not to remember that the German soldiers he fights have never caused him a single moment's harm on purpose. They're only fighting for the same reasons he is - because someone higher up who doesn't give a damn about them said to.

Kirk had been all gung-ho for the war until he'd been sent over here to fight it. All those articles in the newspapers, all the speeches given by men standing in town squares... it had all made it seem so patriotic.

They never tell you, Kirk thinks bitterly, that you'll be sent into a slaughterhouse. They don't tell you you'll spend your day breaking a vampire's fingers one by one just to watch them heal back into place and listen to his little cries.

Just to pass the time.

"Trade me your flask while the fangs takes care of you," Kirk says, and Tommy hands it over easy enough.

He watches Tommy grab the vampire by one arm and yank him over, vicious and violent, making the vampire boy cry out again. The sound is starting to grate on Kirk's nerves. It makes him sound too human. He hates being reminded that every vampire used to be a person.

He drinks whatever's in the Brit's flask, and it burns down his throat just the way he needs it to. Wipes out his worries, relaxes shoulders that seem always to be tensed up nearly to his chin.

His mama's a teetotaler, back in Nebraska. He'd been one, too, until the first bombardment. Now he drinks anything he could get his hands on, and the officers mostly looked the other way.

"Bite," Tommy orders. Kirk raises his eyebrows when Tommy doesn't roll up his sleeve but pushes the vampire's face instead towards his neck, turning his head to the side to bare it.

His eyes meet Kirk's, and he smiles, bitterly. "Works faster this way," He explains. Kirk just watches as the vampire's fangs glint in the eternal dim twilight, hesitating before they bury themselves in Tommy's skin.

The little monster's back arches, pressing them chest-to-chest. A low rumble comes from somewhere deep inside, the animal sound the vampire makes during a good feed. He doesn't do it much with the regular unit any longer, they mocked him for it and one day he stopped.

The vampire's throat works as he drinks, and Tommy's arm slides around the monster's thin shoulders, forcing him closer. He's nearly kissing his forehead, this way.

It's an embrace, and altogether more intimate of one than Kirk thought he'd ever see from the cold, standoffish Brit. He feels a blush creeping up his neck and his cheeks as Tommy lets his head fall back, groaning softly in a kind of contentment as the venom hits. The sound isn't quite like a groan at all, it's more like-

"Fucking hell, Tommy, are you an invert?"

"Invert suggests I give a damn what bites me," Tommy replies, without opening his eyes. His slurred speech deepens, goes slow. His hand curves around the vampire's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm after oblivion, lads. I don't care what parts the fangs have that give it to me."

"Fang-chaser," Holden says, good-naturedly. Clearly not bothered the way Kirk is. Maybe that's just his farmboy past talking, that he's even unsettled at all. Maybe Tommy's got a point - who cares what's between a vampire's legs if you're only interested in the damn thing's mouth in the first place? "Fucking fang-chaser, that's what you are. End up in a den getting your hips bit like Oscar Wilde."

"Who's Oscar Wilde?"

Holden laughs. "You should try reading a book or three sometime, Kirk."

"Sure, sure, whenever I get the damn time in-between running over this blasted nothing. In any case, Tommy's definitely a fang-chaser."

"Guilty as charged... just like you two." Tommy's hand slides up into the vampire's hair, gripping tight and gently pulling backwards. The vampire's fangs slide free, and it laps at the wounds, rapidly. Tommy groans again. Kirk finds himself unable to look away at the bob of Tommy's throat. How good does it feel, in the neck? He's never thought to try it. He thinks about it now. "Turn me in to face discipline for unnatural relations with the fangs and I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it. Fucking Limey bastard." There's no real animosity in Kirk's voice. He's too distracted, drunkenly considering the vampire boy's mouth. Wondering if he knows how to kiss. "You shared your liquor, I shared our bloodsucker, we're both of us in it to our necks."

"Not me," Holden says, innocent and pure as the driven snow. As if he weren't the one to give Kirk the idea to use the venom in the first place.

Kirk throws a clot of mud at him, which he dodges, laughing. They're all laughing, soon enough, except for the fangs.

The vampire lays there, his head pressed to Tommy's chest and forcibly held in place by his arm. His eyes are slightly wide, unfocused, and Kirk leans forward.

"What's this, then? What'd you do to the fangs, Tommy?"

"Hm? Nothing. Oh, I'm pissed as can be, do they feel the liquor in your blood?"

"I'm guessing they sure do. You drunk, fangs?"

The vampire's eyes drift over to Kirk, move too far to one side, come back again. He swallows, thickly. "I... I think I, I, I am," He says, and tries to push back against Tommy's chest, to free himself.

The Brit's arm crushes him back into place, his other hand moving up to run through the vampire boy's dirt red hair, petting him like one of the ambulance dogs. Kirk and Holden laugh at the vampire's weakness. "Stay right where you are," Tommy murmurs. "Or I'll run you through with my bayonet and let you squirm all day."

"Christ," Kirk says, blinking. "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"He's not alive, what does it matter?" Tommy lets out a bitter little laugh. "Might as well get a preview of our own ends, shouldn't we?"

"You two, maybe." Holden crawls into the dugout, the little bed-space, a kind of cave dug in underneath the upper layers of the trench. He lays down on his back, closing his eyes, hands behind his head. "I'm going to go back home and never think of you lot ever again."

"I pray every night to make it home," Kirk says, nodding along. "Not sure anyone's listening, but I got to try, don't I?"

"What happens to the fangs, anyway?" The Brit looks up, rocking a little back and forth. As if the bloodsucker were a baby needing soothing. The vampire boy has relaxed against him, the liquor-laced blood he drank lulling him into a complacent bonelessness. Kirk watches the vampire boy's fingers start to tap over the Brit's chest, a strange movement he's seen the boy do before in his few relaxed moments between the scream of the shells. He hums, low in his throat, tuneless.

"Huh?" Kirk blinks. "What d'you mean, what happens to him?"

"After the war's done. What are they gonna do with the bloodsuckers? Can't exactly pin a bloody ribbon for valor on them and send them on their way, now can they?"

"Nope. I don't know what happens. Maybe they'll just stake them all and have done with them."

The vampire shudders, giving a little whimper. Tommy leans down, lips moving against the vampire's hair. "Ssssshhhh. Not to worry, little fangs. War's not over just yet, now is it?"

"N-... no. Not, not, not, not yet." The vampire's eyes close, pink-tinged tears creating pale tracks in his dirty face. He's a sad drunk, then, Kirk figures.

Aren't they all, these days.

"Maybe you'll outlive us all, and make fools of us for keeping you." Tommy speaks with a patronizing affection, as mocking as it is tender, petting through the creature's hair still. It's... unsettling to watch. Kirk had figured the Brits and French probably killed all their vamps, since they were all disturbed by the sight of the vampire medics when the doughboys first arrived in Europe.

This, though... this makes it seem like Tommy's known a vampire or two himself, in his life. And he's sure as fuck not unfamiliar to what venom is good for outside of giving relief from agony to the injured.

Kirk frowns, thoughtful.

He's turned into a thoughtful drunk, too, thanks to this goddamn war. Sad and thoughtful. What a fucking waste.

"Sleep," Tommy says, almost gently, to the drunk little vampire. "I've got you. Sleep, little one."

The vampire's eyes slip closed. He doesn't breathe - there's no sense of his chest rising and falling. Kirk has to look away before the sense of wrongness, watching Tommy cuddle a corpse, makes him sick.

He takes a long, long draught from the flask, and relishes the burn that reminds him he's human, and alive.

His own eyes slip shut, and he prays for an hour or two of sleep before the next screaming shell bursts overhead.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[inviouswriting]

Simeon n//s//f//w// alphabet

Obvious it is a smut alphabet for the angel. I finally know how to answer them~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Playing on the pun here, but he is an absolute angel for aftercare. Post-coital however, he tends to his lover, peppering their face either in kisses staying connected a little longer. He massages anything that is sore, he can get rambunctious during sex and sometimes it is emotional with him/ intense. Anyone under him enjoys the snacks he brings and get extra cuddles under the blankets.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For himself, he likes his hands more. The obvious he enjoys touch. From you on them or to you with them. He likes to hold and caress. If you think all those head pets and face rubs don't get reciprocated you are mistaken.

On his lover, he loves their face most importantly their eyes. The whole we convey our emotions through them best. He loves that aspect best, to be able to sit in a room together and he can tell how they feel just from meeting gazes. Also loves seeing how their eyes dilate after an orgasm.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is an angel... but one that cooks alot of sweet and healthy things. What this means is he's sweet inside and out. Good volume easy on the tongue and a little runny, but he's more embarrassed with you looking up at him with your tongue coated. Will 100% enjoy oral.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I like to think that his top is a one piece like everyone else does. But, with a special spot to it, in there is a hole for his cock. A big secret for himself that makes it an enjoyment if his lover finds out about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I want to believe the experience he has is based more from his research in reading. He is a writer, writers accumulate knowledge of stuff even without ever doing it themselves. I want to think he thinks about it more than doing it at all. His partner if they're human will lead them down the road of pleasures.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sitting positions. They're intimate, lets him have complete access to your face for kisses, and depending on the way you are, it allows him to be deep. It can go sweet and romantic to hot and wild that way. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simeon is someone who likes to tease, he will lighten the mood if his partner is hesitant about it, he will reassure them. Laughing sex is probably one of the best things he's done with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hairless below. Prefers to be clean like that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He makes any sexual encounter romantic and loving. He doesn't just lay down with anyone. He chooses someone as a permanent partner, and it shows when he is with his chosen lover. He's vocal, he compliments, words of affection, he loves with his eyes and smile.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Once he has had a taste, he does it more than he admits to. Specially after the first time he was with a love. He can't get over how they felt around him, and soon enough he has his hand squeezing himself and his other at his mouth biting down at the memory.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dressing up. He loves his partner in costumes, something sexy from stockings and lingerie. To suits and ties. He likes seeing them put something elaborate on only for him to pull off later. Simeon also has a food fetish.. he will gladly make his lover a human table and eat off of them.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bathroom or his bedroom. The few places where he is guaranteed privacy among others around Purgatory Hall. He can easily hang a sign on his door to not bother him when he writes, same can apply when he is with his lamb. He likes the bathroom more, for the mirrors and bathtub itself. Able to relax and lazily be intimate.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Touching his back. A light graze of nails across it, and he is shivering. Do it a few times and he is already wanting to pin you down and have his way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Non-consensual, bathroom stuff, pain play. He would never hurt his lover. He worries he would hurt them at all. If it belongs in a toilet I don't see him doing it at all. (I also hate writing that stuff) pain play, he may allow bdsm to a point. But if you or him causes pain it is a flat out no. He rather cause pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving, having you at his mercy for hours just teasing you with his mouth. He loves receiving too. The underside is particularly sensitive. He actually gets shy if you manage to stare him in his eyes. Even covers his face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

A mix of both. He will be slow and sensual with romantic times, while fast and rough when you both are feeling it. He never views sex as a sinful thing or dirty to be shamed. He finds enjoyment with his chosen lover, but he is least likely to have multiple lovers.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Simeon loves quickies. Pulling his love aside for a fast romp where it might be the only time they see each other in the day. He looks forward to them, whether he has a hand clasped over their mouth to keep them from moaning with Lucifer in the next room. Or finding a remote spot where you two let out your sounds.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simeon doesn't take a whole lot of risks that jeopardizes his roles. But he is certain in his love for you. Nothing you do with him is seen as a sin in his eyes, he will burn his wings and join you as a human before he gives up now. Or patiently wait the day you join him in the celestial realm. Risks in sexual terms, he won't do anything that causes permanent damages, risks yours or his life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's an angel, he has stamina to burn, also with all those dance battles pretty sure he has alot of energy. He can go rounds before he tires, you on the other hand, you might challenge yourself to wear the angel down.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves them. Things that prolong both of your pleasure, he likes using vibrators on you, and enjoys being pegged. A good trade for all the pleasure he gives you, seeing him come undone with a nice strap on, and a vibrator against his cock has him turning the bullets up on you. Also having a leash and collar on him makes intimate times more fun for pulling on it when you lose your mind. Not opposed to cock rings either. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Simeon can have you seated on a vibrator at full speed and sit there watching you writhe. He loves to tease. He'll ask you questions about how well you like it, accompanied with a blindfold he will tease relentlessly.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's actually loud, it's the only time you hear him vocalize himself beyond his soft spoken tones. He is likely to moan out "ahs" Simeon is particularly loud right before he cums letting his emotions out and getting really into the feel of it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Simeon has a kick for partial exhibitionism. He might enjoy the idea of nearly being caught, the "what will happen." He is fond of skirts as you can sit in his lap and look innocent while his fingers or cock are buried deep.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Simeon would be a little above average, around 8 1/2 in length, beautifully curved towards his belly. A lovely girth that makes you happy to climb in his lap alot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I see him as a demisexual type, won’t have alot of sexual attraction unless there is a bond created. So once he has found someone he will gladly romp around in the sheets with, his drive is high after the first few tastes. Can expect him dragging you off alot in between classes maybe, or finding excuses to have you over or visiting you frequently. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He lasts long enough to clean up, and cuddle excessively. He does have good stamina unless the session was mind blowing then he is more than happy to fall asleep knowing how satisfied you are.

[ethernetchord]

lets talk: popular iwwv criticism

(disclaimer: i know criticism is subjective and thats why im doing this, i wanna look at some common points made against iwwv and dissect them just a little bit in the opposite direction. also none of this is directed at any individual- it’s all based on the general talking points i’ve seen surrounding the book.)

SPOILER WARNING !!

lack of exploration into james and oliver (+ gay characters feel performative)

i’ve seen loads of people say that oliver and james’ relationship felt very performative, a way of including the queer romnce which clearly is very important to the plot but not actually giving it any space in the novel, nor developing it to the same extent which meredith/oliver was.

oliver and meredith had a very strictly physical relationship and while he did love her, he wasn’t in love with her the way he was with james. the juxtaposition in the way that oliver/james is delivered and the way meredith/oliver is delivered is, i believe, far too repetitive to not be intentional. i actually realised upon re-reading how much focus there really is on meredith’s sexuality, even in subtleties in the book. meredith and oliver get more blatant sex scenes, get more physical parts because oliver was (to an extent) using his attraction to meredith to distract himself from his infatuation with james.

we also have to remember that oliver and james didn’t get their real moment of honesty about their relationship till extremely late into the book. i’d honestly see it as more ‘performative’ to then after or in the middle of kind lear throwing in some wild sex scene between the two. it wouldn't have fit.

“why didn’t james and oliver get together earlier then >:(((“ because the slow burn between them, the subtext, the subtle-ness, the yearning, they were all crucial to the decision which oliver made at the end. the fact that they burned so bright for each other but (oliver particularly) were so desperately repressed, that was what made this such a tragic romance. yes its tiring to read stories about queer people being repressed, yes its tiring to see the bury your gays trope. but like oliver says, it goes beyond gender.

if oliver’s second love interest was a girl, and treated this way, we’d be a lot more on board with these tropes- but the fact that james is a man, and this therefor becomes a queer relationship, makes it feel performative. i can’t convince you of anything- but i like to believe that their relationship being treated like this not only makes it so much more “heart wrenching because why! why couldn’t it work out, why couldn’t it be better!” - not because its a queer relationship but because they were soulmates.

alexander wasn’t performative. not in the slightest, rio just didn’t make being gay his entire identity. same goes for colin. just because they’re queer doesn’t mean it needs to be the only thing about them. this isn’t a lgbt novel- characters dont have to be gay just for plot. they can just be gay.

i’ve also seen people complain about not just making oliver bisexual. guys. did you read the book? he was bisexual. he was emotionally and physically attracted to both meredith and james. guys that’s literally what bisexual means.

i'm totally on board with the coming out scenes! and realisation of feelings and all that stuff- but again, not an lgbt centric novel and also- these were things oliver probably did and realised far before this book. remember that its set in 4th year, at an art school. he knew he was fruity ok. not every queer character in every queer book have to have these grandious coming out scenes or realisations. the lack there of doesn’t equal performance.

the ending was rushed and bad

believe what you will, but i don’t think james is dead. there’s a little too much ambiguity in that ending, in the extract he leaves oliver, in the “his body was never found.” so if your main quarrel with the ending is that “bury your gays” situation- please know there’s a chance- and that giving it that chance opens up so much more discussion and reader response.

yes, the ending is sad. but it’s not rushed. “but that is how a tragedy like ours or king lears breaks your heart- by making you believe the ending might still be happy until the very last second.” doing king lear, doing macbeth, doing romeo and juliet, the plays are chosen not only for reader convenience (they’re plays readers will most likely be familiar with) but also because they all, so very deeply, foreshadow a “bad” ending. killing james, makes sense. as much as people don’t want to hear it, from an authorial perspective- from the reader’s perspective and as a human being it makes sense. why do keep arguing that he “should’ve stayed alive for oliver” or that “if he really loved oliver he wouldn’t have done it” - why are we limiting a character’s entire existence down to their love interest. yes, they were best friends, yes they were set up as lovers but that doesn’t mean that that would be enough to keep james around. james was a fragile character- he was always checking with oliver if he had upset him, he was always worried, overthinking, james wasn’t strong minded- and he was suffering. the only person he had left to depend on was in prison, he was plagued with the guilt of causing the death of a classmate and letting oliver take the blame, if he did kill himself, it sure as hell doesn’t have any reason to sound forced.

“its not nearly as good as the secret history!!!!”

to be honest here buds, why the fuck do we keep comparing them so insistently. they are not the same book. iwwv wasn’t trying to be tsh 2.0, yes there are similarities because hey! guess what! books in similar genres tend to do that! always comparing it tsh when they have different motives, different plots and vastly different execution makes no sense. the only reason that they are compared is because tumblrtm dark academics like to group the two together. and yea- makes sense, but stop trying to belittle iwwv because it isn't as grandiose as tsh, because it’s a little more literal, because it’s not as intertextual as tsh. half the people saying iwwv isn’t as good as tsh are practically just subtly going “shakespeare isn’t as complicated as ancient greek huehue” stop forcing the two together and let them be separately appreciated.

the characters were flat/archetypes/etc

sigh. okay.

these characters are actors. this book shows us their transition from themselves entirely into a conjunction of the roles they’ve played and the stereotypes they’ve portrayed.

“we were so easily manipulated - confusion made a masterpiece of us.”

“for us, everything was a performance”

“imagine having all your own thoughts and feelings tangled up with all the thoughts and feelings of a whole other person. it can be hard, sometimes, to sort out which is which.”

“far too many times i had asked myself whether art was imitating life or if it was the other way around”

“it’s easier now to be romeo, or macbeth, or brutus, or edmund. someone else.”

are you seeing it now? this focus on their archetypes, this focus on the character they are; the way they see themselves not merely as human but as a walking concoction of every character they have turned into and out of. they depend on their archetypes to give them meaning. rio uses these archetypes to remind us of the submersion of her characters. they weren’t flat, their intentional lack of dimension due to their pasts is what makes them so intricate. furthermore, there's an evident subversion- the tyrant becomes a victim, the hero becomes a villain (they all become villains really), the ingenue becomes corrupted. like mentioned before, i think we forget ourselves easily reading this book but there is a great deal of emphasis on this being their last year- which is so important. the damage has been done and a lot of the issues people have with the content (or lack thereof) in this book has to do with the fact that it’s all things that would have occurred in books focusing on previous years at delletcher.

“it didn't live up to expectation” (also leading on from read tsh to this and being ‘disappointed’)

i cant argue this because its entirely subjective. whatever expectation was created for you, i cannot know that and appropriately respond however- if you liked the secret history and understood the secret history then there's a good chance you also liked and understood this book- even if not to the same extent but you must be able to recognize the authorial approach and its significance. i think a lot of ppl read iwwv (and a lot of “dark academia” texts and films) and hope to be able to romanticize the aesthetic or the concepts and then are disappointed when they are presented with mildly unlikeable and overwhelmingly human characters who aren’t easy to romanticize.

a great majority of these books are criticisms of the very culture you’re trying to romanticize, and the only time you’re willing to admit that is when boasting about the ‘self-awareness’ of the people indulging in them, and then a moment later complain about those same qualities because they don’t serve this idealized expectation.

bad rep for arts/liberal arts/ humanities students as being pretentious/cultish

as a humanities student with a great love for eng lit- all of these things are indeed pretentious and cultish. not all the time and not always and not every person- but it is a common theme. academia is overwhelmingly obsessive and extremely white-washed. people become so fast to believe that they are indulging in finer arts and are therefore a higher standard of person. academia is problematic. and the recent influx of people interested in it is good, very good because hopefully, we’ll be more diverse, more open-minded, more accepting. that's what i hope at least. if you know, as an individual, that you’re not a pretentious academic who places themselves above non-academics then that's wonderful- but there are dangers and negative sides to academia that need to be understood so that we can see to not perpetuating them.

i cant refute all points, mostly because there's a lot of good and well-explained criticism because no book is perfect. and my intentions are not to belittle anyone's opinion. these are merely opposing arguments, food for thought and to be fair- a critical look into why not everything is always going to be what we expect of it and why every ‘problem’ can be assessed.

[edasnest]

Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?

Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.

But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D

[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]

Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.

Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).

After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.

Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??

The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.

Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.

Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.

In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.

Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).

Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.

They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.

Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.

A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.

Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️

[smolla-than-a-bug]

BAKU FLUFF N O W 🥰

something about apples

—bakugo katsuki x reader

bakugo is sleepy but you have other plans

navi | misc m.list

content — fluff, established relationship, soft baku

notes — ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE 🤲 i give u baku fluff 💞

Bakugo Katsuki likes to be held but will under no circumstances admit it to you nor would he admit it to himself — much less actually say it outright. He opts to drape his body atop your own at random times, usually when you’re alone in the comfort of either of your rooms or when you miraculously find yourselves alone in the living area. After all, he “can’t have any extras intruding” on your intimate moment, as he so eloquently puts it.

Wordlessly, he’ll demand for your arms to be wrapped around him, but if you’re feeling extra stubborn that day, he’ll grumble about it as he pulls your arms around his shoulders himself before circling his own around your waist and resting his head on your stomach. Dare to laugh at him and he will bite you. Of course, he won’t bite down hard enough to actually elicit any pain. He’ll lightly nip at your skin, applying just enough pressure for you to feel a slight pinch and fully expecting you to swat his face away.

Looking down at him as you lay across the sofa, trapped by Bakugo’s weight on your body, you thread your fingers in his hair. Another thing he won’t admit to is that one of his favorite feelings in the world is your fingers brushing through his wild hair or scratching his scalp. Right now, he feels like he’s in heaven as he sighs, falling further into you.

For someone who’s known to cause a lot of noise and rowdiness, he likes his silence. The tranquillity in the air around you both is something he will never get enough of. Though, it was never in your nature to submit to whatever he wants now was it? The comfortable quietness was nice, but sometimes you find it nicer to rile him up. (Just to tease him a bit.) Right now was ‘sometimes’.

You nudge him with your fist a little. “Hey.”

He was probably tired as he took more than a second to acknowledge you and didn’t even bother opening his eyes to look at you, merely humming then burying his face into your stomach. He did just come back from training.

You nudge him again. And again. And again, until you heard a muffled ‘what.’ The single word briefly rippled into your flesh as it was uttered, being less of a question but more of a demand as to why you were disturbing him.

You waited for him to lift his head to look up at you. “Hi,” you mumbled when he did, and he openly judged you with half-lidded eyes. You could only hold back a grin when you held his plump cheeks in your hands before proceeding to ask, “How would you react if I threw an apple at you?”

He blinked. Once, twice.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?”

His confusion only made him look all the more endearing, and you couldn’t restrain the laugh that slipped out. He grunted as he leaned into your touch, waiting for you to explain yourself to him.

When you finally calmed down, you finally indulged the drowsy Bakugo, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs as you did so. “You know... In Ancient Greece, throwing an apple at someone was considered a declaration of love. So — ‘What the fuck kind of question is that?’ — um, kinda rude but okay.”

He furrowed his brows and sighed, exasperated despite relishing in your acts of affection. “How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

Obviously you didn’t expect him to just know where you were coming from... but it was funny.

You noticed his eyes were starting to droop again, so you let his cheeks go, allowing him to make a pillow of your stomach once more.

“Would you catch my apple?”

“Hm?”

“If I threw an apple at you, would you catch it?”

If throwing an apple at someone was a declaration of love and admiration, catching it symbolized an acknowledgment of that love. The declaration accepted and the feeling reciprocated–

“No... ‘m sleepy.”

You swear you caught a glimpse of the corners of his mouth turning up. Bastard.

Huffing, you decided to let him sleep, feeling him shift into a comfortable position. Your hand wandered over the coffee table as you looked for the TV remote, so you could find something to watch while waiting for Bakugo to wake up. What better time than now to watch mindless television?

After finally settling on a show to put on, you recalled spotting a bowl of apples on the kitchen counter. They did say actions speak louder than words...

Spoiler: It hit him square in the face. Apparently, you had thrown it too early and aimed too high.

© smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy or repost my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[chudleycanonficfest]

The Greenhouse

Day 2, Story #2 is by @zurisenchantedquill

Title: The Greenhouse

Author/Artist: zurimadison

Pairing: Neville/ Hannah

Prompt: Wedding & Proposal

Rating: Teen

Trigger Warning(s) (if any): n/a

______

The sun was setting in brilliant shades of pink and orange, reflecting off the grey cotton ball clouds that were scattered across the sky. From where she stood in the kitchen, gazing out of the window as she washed up after dinner, Hannah watched the burning sphere sink behind the hills in the distance, leaving in its wake concentrated rays of soft yellow light.

The gentle clinking of ceramic and the movement of water in the sink were the only sounds in the house aside from Hannah’s quiet humming as she finished her task, basking in the view. The cobblestone path leading to the front door was flanked by tall grasses and flowers that grew wild on the country hillside, meeting the edge of a small duck pond beside which the faded white cottage was perched. The trees, green and heavy in the height of summer, swayed in the delicate breeze that also caused the surface of the pond to be perpetually disturbed, the ripples distorting the water’s reflection of the multicolor evening sky.

She left the dishes drying on a terry cloth towel, preparing two mugs of steaming tea that she carried out the back French doors of the cottage. She followed a well-packed dirt path that curved around a large oak tree and traveled parallel to the ruins of an old stone wall, overrun by weeds, until it reached the foot of a modest greenhouse. The structure was the newest addition to the property, it’s base made of solid red bricks and the top still boasting a pristinely painted white frame with polished, intact glass panes. She could just make out the silhouette of a person moving inside, and unconsciously sped her pace. 

The door opened in her presence, closing silently behind her as she sidled through the gap. She placed the mugs of tea on the center table, pulling up a stool as she watched Neville putter around the space. She could hear the muffled music from his headphones, the iPod that her cousin had helped her set up clipped to the waist of his jeans. He was repotting a plant with large, flat leaves, though the patterns of the holes that’d naturally developed across its foliage reminded her strongly of swiss cheese.

He worked diligently, sweat dripping down the side of the temple and hanging on the edge of his jaw. His features were contorted with concentration, but even then, Hannah thought he looked more relaxed when he was in his greenhouse than in most other circumstances. She’d had the idea to get him an iPod after he’d mentioned that he sometimes struggled to relax in the quiet, like he was waiting for something to disturb the silence. 

She loved spending time with Neville in their new greenhouse, though occasionally she could hardly believe the string of events that’d brought them to this point. Despite knowing of each other since their early days at Hogwarts, Hannah never noticed Neville like that until the year of the Carrows. 

She willed herself to breathe deeply, moving her thoughts away from the terrors of that time and focusing instead on what’d attracted her to the man she shared a home with now. He’d been the most noble student at the school that year. He had an unerring moral compass, but was still patient and understanding with people who weren’t ready to be as brave as he. He was kind, he was adorably shy, and (she gulped as she watched another bead of sweat trickle along a vein in his neck and disappear into the V of his shirt) he was good-looking as hell. 

Still, she hadn’t been able to work up the nerve in time to do anything about her schoolgirl crush, and they’d gone their separate ways after the war. She was lucky that fate had other ideas, and within a couple of years she found herself the new proprietor of one of the most visited pubs in wizarding Britain. When he’d first walked through her doors, bringing with him all the old feelings she didn’t know she still had, she couldn’t let him leave without trying. 

She’d blurted it at him loudly when he was halfway out the door.

“Willyougooutwithme?”

The entire pub had gone silent, and she knew her cheeks were flushed pink. She’d waited on bated breath while he’d turned around, staring at her as though amazed. Her stomach fluttered at the memory of the brilliant smile that’d overtaken his face before he’d said the one word that’d forever changed the trajectories of their lives. 

“Yes.”

What followed was three years of dating, of dealing with post war trauma, of learning how to communicate, of reassuring Neville of her feelings, of being very surprised at how much he was willing to take charge when he felt reassured, of deciding to move in together, of choosing to live in simplicity in the country, of learning of Neville’s passions, of knowing when to stay silent to let him speak, of understanding when he needed her to push him, and of the realization of a singular, resolute truth she felt in her bones. 

“Hey, you.” While she’d been lost in thought, Neville had noticed her presence. He pulled his headphones down on his neck and smiled, wiping the soil from his hands with a towel. He crossed the space between them, touching her cheek gently. “What’re you thinking about?” 

She met his eyes, today a warm brown in the center that faded to a grey green on the outside, and she couldn’t stop the words. “Marry me?”

His eyebrows moved towards each other, creasing his forehead as he blinked several times. “What?”

She placed her hand on top of his, still cupping her face, and beamed at him. “Marry me, Neville.” She gestured around the greenhouse. “Let’s you and I make each other happy like this for the rest of our lives.”

His grin rivaled that of the day she’d first asked him out. He bounded across the greenhouse, leaving her alone, confused at the large table as he rifled around in the aprons hanging on the back wall, muttering to himself. 

“There it is,” he exclaimed, running back to her with his fist clenched tight. He sat on the stool in front of her, the look on his face reminding her of a child on Christmas. “Ready?”

He still hadn’t answered her question, but his excitement and her curiosity got the better of her, so she nodded anyway. “Sure.”

He held his hand out, uncurling his fingers so she could see what sat so proudly in his palm. The band of the ring was pale green, shaped like tiny, delicately linked ivy leaves that’d grown in a perfect circle. From the top of the ring a small flower seemed to bloom, yellow and icy, so realistic she could have sworn the petals might fall if she touched them. 

It was her turn to be surprised, and she paused for several moments as she stared at the ring. He waited, watching her with eager eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, and when she met his gaze this time, she felt a lump growing in her throat. “How long have you had it?”

“Since we moved in together,” he admitted, smiling at her bashfully. 

“Why wait so long?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to get married.” He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, though the other hand still held the ring out to her. “We’re so happy, and I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just want to be with you.” He shrugged, picking up the ring and holding it between two fingers. “With or without this. All I want is you.”

“Neville.” A few tears fell down her cheeks as her heart melted, and, unable to say anything else, she pressed her lips against his and pulled him in for a hug, burying her face into his shirt. Her voice was muffled when she finally managed words. “Let’s do it with, then.”

There was a pleasant vibration in his chest as he pulled her to arm’s distance and searched her face. “Yeah?”

She nodded, half laughing, half crying. “Yeah.”

“So we’re getting married?”

She held out her hand and he pushed the ring with slow, deliberate purpose onto her finger. Her heart was hammering, and she admired how it looked against her skin and how small her fingers were in his palm. Everything was perfect. 

She looked up, returning his grin with enthusiasm. “Does this mean you say yes?”

He laughed and swept her off the stool, cradling her close to his body as he murmured against her lips. 

“Yes.”

[librarianandguardian]

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

[twiceasfrustrating]

Absolutely Nothing

I said I wouldn't post my new fic until after SWBQ is done, but I want to begin posting it before S4 drops. It won't update consistently atm, but it's there... I will only be posting the first two chapters to Tumblr. Everything else is going on AO3 because Tumblr is not longfic friendly.

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Main Character, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, Solomon, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Original Angel Character(s)

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, Trauma, Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canon is like a vampire, it can't enter this house unless I let it, Emotional Baggage, Lies, Manipulation, Ships not intended but I'm not stopping you

Summary: War is not unknown to the three realms, but that does not make them any less a tragedy of strategy. Though relations between the three have never been favorable, they have never truly gone to battle with each other. At least, not until now. The heavens have been planning for a long time and have finally decided to execute their machinations. Now it is time to see how every piece will play out this bloody battle.

A/N: These tags are for the overarching fic, not the first two chapters. Only Lucifer, Simeon, Micheal, and Gabriel show up in the first two chapters.

Chapter 1: I Will Not Go With You

“We’re heading for a war,” Lucifer warned, “and I want you to come with me.”

Simeon solemnly blinked a few times before closing his eyes. The weight of the choices laid before him pricked at the edges of his mind. He’d known this was coming. He’d known for a long time that this question would eventually be asked of him and for just as long he’d known what his answer would be, “I must decline.”

“Why?” Lucifer spat out, “Simeon, you have to know what’s about to happen. If we don’t fight then Lilith-”

“I am not stopping you from this rebellion.” He opened his eyes and looked to the pages stacked neatly in the corner of his desk, carefully flipping through the avalanche of writings he’d collected over the years. Somewhere, buried deep in the pile, he vaguely recalled his moment; where his brother would ask him to do the impossible. He’d hidden it away from prying eyes, afraid that others would find it and interpret it as he had. Though, even if they had read it and understood what the contents were, it was nigh impossible to change the events that were foretold.

He pulled the page from the pile, taking care so the others above it would not collapse onto the delicately inlaid wood of his desk, and perused the contents held within. The paper was so old that it had begun to grow fragile to the touch and discolor at the edges. Simeon desperately wished that time had chosen not to show its touch on this particular relic he would rather have forgotten about. It was frightening how long he’d known about this day and he would rather pretend he was shocked when Lucifer had come to him. Sometimes, having a glimpse into what would eventually be was a cruel reality.

That brother, who would come in need of his fellow, will find no quarter. So shall he return with hands left empty, but convictions emboldened by the forge of his stature. He shall take with him those who share his resolve and lead them to where metal sings and cries. Blood shall be shed but on one side, though the cost of the blood spilled shall

It was an old, short paragraph he wished he could forget. Though he could never truly put it out of his mind, because he knew it was left unfinished and his mind and pen longed to see the end of the story. However, his heart and will would prefer not to know every detail of this particular future. For so long, he’d clung to that final shall and hoped that not knowing the entirety of the story would somehow keep it from unfolding. However, his pen only put the stories to page. He was not responsible for the events that inspired him to write.

“You will have to make do with those who are already on your side. No one else will turn their back on Father for your cause.” It was the only warning he could give. In those words he hid the message that Lucifer should tell no one else. If war was approaching, then it was better he have the element of surprise.

Lucifer could only stare at him in disbelief, “Is that your answer?”

“It always was.” He placed the paper face down atop the pile, “I cannot aid you in this, Lucifer.”

“Then you would fight against me? You would condemn Lilith in the same way as our Father?” His voice shook, the rage building inside of him clearly beginning to boil over even as he tried to contain it.

“I will not betray my family.” Simeon’s face remained unchanged as he pushed his chair away from the desk and rose to his feet. Despite the malicious aura that began to circle around his fellow Seraphim, he approached with an unguarded stance until they were only an arm’s reach away from one another. No matter how upset Lucifer may become, Simeon would not fear him. Though, he did fear *for* him, “You and she are still of my kind and that means I will not meet you on the battlefield.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the declaration. This time, it was his turn to fear for the other, “You can’t stay out of this. You know they won’t allow you.” If he did try to remain on the sidelines, Simeon would still be seen as a traitor. Not in the same vein as him and his siblings, but a traitor nonetheless, “I won’t ask you to fight if you really refuse to lift your blade, but you can’t stay here.”

“As much as you and Lilith are my family, so are Micheal, Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel. I cannot leave them.”

“Simeon…”

Simeon’s lips pulled back into a smile and he let out the shortest of laughs, “You worry far too much, Lucy. You are aware that I am still a Seraphim, are you not? Even if I do not step onto the battlefield, I do not believe I am in nearly as much danger as you are putting yourself in.” He wanted to reach out and touch his brother one last time as the fear of the unknown overtook him, but he kept his hand within his own space. He did not know what would happen at the end of all of this, but he knew it would not be the same and reaching out to hold onto what they had would only pain them both.

Lucifer looked over the other angel’s shoulder, toward the pile of papers where Simeon had placed one face down. Countless writings that revealed the future to their author and Lucifer did not envy that gift. Others often wished to know what would be, but he had seen far too many times the burden placed on Simeon for having such a skill; the amount of times he had been made to see both grace and tragedy was carved on his face, just behind that smile. That is why, despite knowing that whatever was on that page was related to this very discussion and his ultimate goal, he would not pry. It was not as if knowing the future allowed it to be changed anyway.

“We’ll still be on opposing sides, you know?” No matter how much Simeon proclaimed not to betray his family, that was an unavoidable truth.

He nodded, “I am aware.”

“And you refuse to go against your family?”

This time his confirmation was wordless.

Lucifer took in a deep breath, “Then once the battle begins, I believe we can hardly be considered family anymore.”

Large blue eyes shot up to look at his pale face. It seemed that Lucifer had said something Simeon hadn’t expected, “What?”

“You will not betray your family, but you know they will not allow you to remain neutral in this. As soon as the drums of war beat, it is fine to stop thinking of me as your brother.”

There was a long moment of silence before Simeon could reply, “You cannot ask me that.”

“I am not asking. I am stating a truth,” one that would hopefully allow Simeon a way to follow his morals and gain some leniency if he continued to insist on this path, “I refuse to be your brother from that moment on.”

“Please... you cannot ask that of me.”

“I am not asking anything of you. I am simply stating where we will stand.” And now he needed to leave before the hurt welling in Simeon’s eyes tugged at his heart anymore and shattered his resolve.

He dipped his head in a polite bow, “Thank you for your time, Simeon. I do hope we may speak like this again.” He turned on his heels, refusing to truly look at the other angel again. His only goal was the door, where he opened it wide and stepped through the threshold.

“Lucifer! Wait!”

It took far more will than Lucifer would ever care to admit as he shut the door behind him without saying another word, and even more to walk away.

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

Chapter 2: Traitor

“How long have you known?” Micheal nearly growled as he stared down Simeon where he kneeled. His pale blue eyes ran wild with rage and it was clear he was just barely holding himself together. That was to be expected after everything he had just been through. Lucifer was unapologetically his favorite brother so it was unimaginable the distress he was in right now as he came to terms with having lost a member of his family. They had been like two halves of a whole, and now they were fractured.

“How long have I known what?” Simeon asked, feigning ignorance.

“That Lucifer would lead a rebellion against Father!” Micheal’s voice raised so loud that the room literally shook around him.

“Calm yourself, Micheal,” a melodious voice shushed him and lithe hands rested on his shoulders to hold him steady, “We’ve lost enough of our siblings today. There is no reason to lose yourself and risk losing another.”

“You would call him our brother after that disgraceful scene, Gabriel?” The disgust in his voice was clear and overwhelming, “He knew this would happen and refused to warn us or lift a finger. Everything we lost today is because of him.” Simeon had to know about today. He was blessed with the gift of prophecy and spent his time writing what was to come. If he had simply shared whatever he knew about today, Micheal knows they could have prevented the rebellion. He knows that he could have convinced Lucifer to stay somehow. Instead, he was left to face his own brother on the battlefield. He could still recall the cold eyes Lucifer had looked at him with as if they barely knew one another. That sight would never leave the darkest parts of his mind.

“You are blinded by your pain, Micheal.” She removed her hand from his shoulders and moved to stand over Simeon, “He is clearly as much our brother as ever. If he were against us he would have joined Lucifer, but Father has deemed that he is still worthy of his halo. Is that not enough for you?”

Micheal chuckled darkly before answering, “Uriel nearly lost an arm and he’s one of the lucky ones.” Even with so few numbers on their side, the rebellion had a gifted Dominion that made the most of their small force.

“And everyone harmed will heal, but we gain nothing in dividing ourselves further, and our brother has already been punished for his transgressions.” She took a knee before Simeon, reaching out her hand and running her fingers through his silken hair, “Will you not put our brother’s worries at ease, Simeon?”

Simeon knew the threat in those words. As kind as Gabriel pretended to be, she was someone he feared far more than Micheal. Not because she was stronger, but because she knew exactly how to most hurt those who upset her. As such, he had no interest in declining her wish, even if what she was asking for was for him to show his shame.

He took a deep breath before unfurling his wings behind him. They shimmered golden in the neverending light of the Celestial Realm, a blessing bestowed upon him by their Father that reflected his very essence. Every angel had such a blessing; different colors, shapes, a range of sizes, and lays of their feathers all differed from angel to angel all dependent on their Father’s grace. That included how high in their Father’s favor they were, and it was obvious at a glance just how out of favor Simeon had fallen. His six beautiful wings, the blessing afforded to all Seraphim, had been reduced to a simple two.

Gabriel’s eyes filled with pity for him but Micheal’s face twisted in glee and disdain, “Is that all? You betray us and all Father does is reduce your rank.” The laugh that left his throat was so dry that it sounded like it hurt, “You must really be beloved to get off with such a light sentence.” If it was up to Micheal himself, Simeon would face the same punishment as Lilith.

“Still your anger, Micheal. As you can see, Father has spoken.” She raised to her feet once more, her nails pulling painfully at Simeon’s hair as she stepped away from him, “Simeon is still of our kind and as one of our subordinates it is our duty to shepherd him.”

A wicked smile crossed Micheal’s face as he continued to look down on Simeon and his now unsightly form that marked his betrayal, “You may be correct, Gabriel. It is only right that we guide lost sheep, especially those of our own flock.”

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Behind Closed Doors

Ooo, I like this idea! Originally I was gonna write headcanons for it but in the end, I guess I just ended up writing a scenario? Wild world right? Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t...but I really hope you enjoy it and please, feel free to let me know what you think!

Click Me 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 It was impossible to tell how long ago it all started, all of the secrets, the sneaking around; the easily told lies. All to spend a few stolen moments with your prince and soon-to-be King; Katsuki.

 You were nothing more than a maid, brought in a few years ago because no one else could deal with the crown-prince’s temper. The job paid too much to turn down, on the condition that you could tolerate Katsuki’s anger and get your work done without him throwing you out; to achieve that, you had been given two week’s trial.

 Surprisingly enough, you had made it through the trial period with no trouble. A few arguments here and there, but nothing too terrible; apparently Katsuki’s mother had been impressed because you were given full time and extra money, weekends were your own to enjoy as a break from the short-tempered man and should you need anything, you were given permission to go straight to the currently ruling King and Queen.

 It had all begun with a kiss, albeit, an angry kiss; one of frustration and annoyance. That one kiss had stolen both your breath and your heart.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 “Oi, wench!”

 .

 You let out a quiet sigh, lifting your head to address Katsuki as he opened his bedroom door with a deafening slam, angry glare focused on you despite how you were simply folding his clothes so that you could put them away as you always did this time each week.

 “Is there something I can help you with, my lord?” You asked the question even though you hoped the answer was no, gently setting down one of his now folded tops on top of the nearby table; stacked neatly on top of the others that you had already done throughout the morning.

 “Is it true?!” You raised an eyebrow as you moved to pick up another article of clothing, beginning to fold it as he stormed up to you. It was strange to see him so outwardly angry towards you, but then again, his anger was well-known throughout the land; you just hadn’t seen it directed towards you before.

 “Could you be a little more specific, my lord? Many things are true but unless you specify, I can’t help you” You kept your voice calm as you looked towards him, mindlessly folding his clothes. The task had become as easy as breathing air since you had first been employed, since you were Katsuki’s personal maid, the tasks you had were mostly repetitive and made easy to do without thinking too much about it.

 “You were offered another job!” You nodded slowly at his clarification, confusion forming on your features when he became visibly angrier; practically seething when his question was confirmed. It was hard to understand, given that you had turned down many different offers of employment. The best thing you could come up with was that he was angry to hear that he was stuck with you; however, given that he hadn’t seemed to mind your presence before now, that was hard to believe.

 “Is there a problem? I would assume that you would be happy to hear that I’ve got no intention of leaving” You could see the way his anger faltered at your words, a brief flicker of confusion darting through his gaze before he was standing in front of you; eyes narrowed in suspicion and disbelief.

 “You’re staying…? Weren’t you offered more than what you earn here?” You nodded slowly at his question, reaching past him to place the folded clothing on top of the pile; deciding that it would be better for you to wait until you continued on with your task. The prince was agitated, which meant that you should probably give him all of your attention until his anger passed.

 “If you were offered more, then why are you staying?” His question made you smile, having to bite down on your bottom lip to prevent the giggle that threatened to slip out; the last thing that you needed was to stir the already agitated prince. Otherwise, you might have to take up that offer of employment.

 “I’m staying because I want to. I like it here; the work is good and I believe in loyalty to the people that have done right by me.” You murmured out your response softly, standing up so that you were chest to chest with the prince; a pleasant smile decorating your lips, not a whisper of a lie escaping you.

 “I’ve turned down a lot of job offers since coming here, my lord…but may I ask why the sudden interest? How did you even hear about this to begin with?” You tilted your head in vague curiosity while he scoffed, turning his head to the side so that you couldn’t see his expression; agitation still made obvious by his body language.

 “Your new employer sent a carriage for you. Mother asked me to fetch you.” Your eyes widened at his words, disbelief filling you until he decided to look back at you properly; his expression alerting you to the truth of his words. Though, you should have believed him to begin with; Katsuki Bakugou never did anything that he didn’t want to and that included lying.

 He despised lies, that had been something that you had learnt early on during your two-week trial as his maid.

 “My lord, please believe me. I have no idea why there’s a carriage here for me, I declined the offer immediately. I have no wish to leave my home.” He raised an eyebrow the moment you said the word ‘home’, giving a slight nod of his head before reaching out to cradle the back of your head with his hand; his lips crashing angrily down against your own in a breath-taking kiss.

 .

 “Continue your work. I want to speak with you once I clear up this bullshit.”

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

You moaned out softly, pressing your hands against Katsuki’s chest as he used his weight to pin you against the solid wooden door; his lips against your own and his hands gripping your thighs, lifting you against his hips.

 “Keep your fucking voice down (Name)” His instruction came out as a low groan of frustration while his lips travelled down to your jaw, sending welcomed shivers along your spine at the affection he was showering you with; he had been gone on a peace-treaty with his mother for a week.

 Clearly that had been much too long for the two of you to be apart.

 .

 “You make it sound easier than it is”

 .

 He snorted at your cheeky remark, nipping at your neck while his hands roamed your body, undressing you with silent skill as he went; leaving you as confused as ever. You never could understand how he had gotten so good at undressing you in such situations.

 “Yeah, well you know what happens if we’re caught. So, shut up already” He grumbled out the order, clearly dissatisfied with having to tell you to be quiet; unfortunately, it was a necessary part of your stolen moments together. If you were too loud and got caught, there would be consequences that the two of you couldn’t bear to risk.

 You moaned out quietly, biting down on your bottom lip as Katsuki buried himself inside of you, large hands going back to your thighs to keep proper hold of you while you squirmed in place; it wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time he had you against the door to his bedroom, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

 “You know, you always get so rough when you’re jealous” You whispered out the teasing words with a quiet giggle, gasping as Katsuki bit your boob firmly, his hips moving at a harsh pace that came hand in hand with Neito Monoma asking you to become his personal maid. Katsuki was a jealous man and that was made obvious whenever you happened to chat to someone that he deemed a threat.

 “You’re really bringing this up now?” Katsuki growled out the question, trailing nips and bites over your chest while you moved your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you with a stifled moan; your back arching from the pleasure that he sent racing through your body.

 “You’re the one that kicked Monoma out and dragged me away” Katsuki scoffed at your remark, keeping his head low as he thrust his hips, likely so that you couldn’t see the guilty expression on his features; it was obvious to the both of you that you were right, but having Katsuki admit it was a completely different matter.

 You whimpered out Katsuki’s name quietly when he brushed up against your sweet spot, the sound tipping him off and causing him to change the way he moved his hips; now hitting your spot with each hard thrust, your noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder as a result.

 “Better keep your voice down (Name)” You scowled at Katsuki’s taunting remark, moving a hand to tug at his hair roughly in displeasure before biting down on your bottom lip to stifle the cry of pleasure that had nearly spilled free. It was payback for mentioning Monoma, you knew that, but at the same time; it was impossible to resist teasing him.

 It was something only you could do without having him explode at you.

 .

 “You look so good like this…and all mine…”

 .

 Katsuki mumbled words made you smile as you rocked your hips down to meet his thrusts, a quiet moan managing to slip past your lips while he continued to fuck you against the door; not making nearly as much noise as you had expected it to make.

 “God…would you shut up?” You whispered out the request under your breath, trying your best not to cry out his name when he slapped his hand against your thigh, accompanying the action with a firm bite to the bruise that was already beginning to form from one of his earlier bites; more pleasure than pain.

 A quiet whimper escaped you as a familiar heat began to build up in the pit of your stomach, making it nearly impossible to focus on your goal of keeping quiet; as it always seemed to.

 “Oi, bite me if you have to…might not get as lucky as last time” Katsuki groaned low as he uttered the instruction to you, cursing out when you moved your head to bite down on his shoulder firmly; drowning the loud moan in his muscled body. Refusing to allow anyone but him to hear your noises of pleasure as your orgasm rocked through you.

 “Fuck…alright then” He growled out the remark under his breath, rolling his shoulder when you released your hold on him; instead riding out your orgasm with his thrusts, managing the bear with the pleasure-filled jolts that raced through your system while Katsuki worked towards his own release.

 Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long. Katsuki’s hips were already beginning to move at a rapid pace, his movement sloppy as his orgasm neared; burying himself inside of you as deep as he could moments later. His hot seed filling you.

 .

 “…I think we did pretty good this time.”

[19gumi]

WHEN THE SUN SETS | KUROO TETSUROU

Summary: Kuroo hates the way he can never tell what’s on your mind (and also, you eat your cherries ridiculously slowly)

Genre: Fluff (childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining)

Word count: 1.8k

Porcelain plates now stained with chocolate are neatly tossed to the side, bearing the remnants of the croissants Kuroo treated the two of you with. Secluded in your favorite part of the park, you try to get one last whiff of the sweet pastry that you ate a little too quickly for your liking, making a mental note to pay that bakery another visit soon.

The final beams of sunlight graze your face as you observe the birds above you, hurrying to find a shelter before the rosy sky hues turn dark blue. You’ve missed their renowned song – the winter fell into a silence after their departure, sometimes too deafening when paired up with the freezing December cold.

Your field of vision is obstructed by a muscular arm reaching for the cherries in the bowl placed beside your head. You observe his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the fruit, eyes focused on the horizon sprawled in front of him. And then they suddenly shift to your figure, your head soundly placed in his lap.

“You okay?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles in your shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You seemed lost in thought.”

You’re about to respond when his body abruptly shifts under yours, the motion prompting you to sit up straight. Kuroo’s hand flies to the back of his head, and you assume he’s received a hit to it.

That is shortly proven to be true when a distressed mother shouts after her son who you don’t even notice at first, standing a foot away from the two of you. His arms are folded behind his back, lips pouting as his eyes search for the ball he had previously been playing with.

Kuroo’s furrowed brows shift back to their original shape, face muscles relaxing as he takes in the sight of the kindergartener. The mother pants as she approaches the two of you, crouching down next to the child that you assumed wasn’t more than 5 years old.

“Hi, I’m very sorry to have caused-“

Kuroo swats his arms in the air. “It’s not a big deal really, didn’t even hurt.” He then smiles at the kid, extending his hand towards him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo.”

The kid buries his head in the crook of his mother’s neck as a response, refusing Kuroo’s handshake. She spots the ball and sends him off to pick it up, sighing deeply.

“He gets shy sometimes,” she chuckles, scratching her forehead.

Couple of more apologies and one goodbye later, the sun now long hidden and the moon greeting you (this time only one half of it), Kuroo wishes he could take a peek at your mind.

He knows that’s not possible, though, leaving him with the only option of staring at the side of your face, alluringly illuminated under the evening sky. Admiring the faint glint in your eyes, he sighs when he realizes he is about to go to bed with the same unanswered questions another night in a row.

Kuroo is too lost in the way his fingertips itch to sink themselves in your cheeks, his body starving for that addicting warmth of yours – the one he sensed once for the first time many years ago and never wanted to let go of again.

You turn your head around unreasonably quickly – he’s unprepared and so, so exposed. The look in his eyes is soft, way too soft for you to have a full view of it. He hasn’t said a word, but the faint burning in the pit of his stomach convinces him he’s spilled the most tender secrets of his.

“You know,” you begin, reaching for the bowl with cherries behind you. You chew painfully slow, he thinks, the time that it takes for you to swallow the cherry seeming like an eternity.

“That child from earlier,” you continue at last, fiddling with your hands in your lap. “He reminded me of myself when I was his age.”

Kuroo doesn’t know what he was hoping for, but your words do cause a change in his stance. “How so?”

And there you are, flashing him your signature smile one more time. The enigmatic one, the exact one that he’s been trying to decipher unceasingly.

The same one that causes him to miss serves in practice.

The one that keeps him from entering the world of his dreams at night, but also the one that makes him feel like he’s living the sweetest fantasies of his when he gets to see it up close.

“Just like the birds we watched earlier, the pink sky alerts everyone that it’s time to find a shelter for the night,” you glance at him, to which he nods, prompting you to continue. “My mom would always tell me to go straight home once the sky changed colors, and you know I always followed that rule.”

“Yeah, I remember going home and sulking during dinner because I didn’t get to spend more time with you.”

He mouths an ‘ouch!’ when you poke him in the ribs, clutching at his chest. “Dramatic much?” you chuckle, rubbing circles in his back.

“Anyway,” you continue, retracting your hand. “Sometimes I’d lose my toys just like that child from earlier did, but I wouldn’t have enough time to look for them. The street lights would already be turned on and I didn’t want the monsters to catch me.”

Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh. “Monsters? What monsters?”

You shift your eyes towards your hands, which he sees as a chance to inch closer, just enough for him to feel your shoulder against his.

“Dunno,” you say. “But I knew once I’d reach my mom’s arms that I was safe. She’d always nag at me for forgetting to wash my hands – when in reality I didn’t, I always remembered to do it. But I guess I craved that noise which served as an additional proof that I was secure between the four walls of my room, when the silence of the night was the loudest.”

“Well aren’t you a poetic one [name],” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A hush descends between the two of you. Kuroo can feel his lips bruising as he chews on them, unsure whether to verbalize the words that could possibly hint at the desires he held close to his heart.

In the end he does it anyway. “It’s way past sunset now, though. So why,” his voice cracks, before he swiftly disguises it as a cough. Or at least he tries to. “Why aren’t you rushing to get home? What if as we speak, the monsters are actually coming to get you?”

It’s your turn to stare at his side profile now, your pulse forming an unsteady rhythm in your throat as you study the slope of his nose, unsure of what was about to come next.

A confession? Were you really ready to ruin a decade long friendship just because rather than playing catch with him you wanted to kiss his lips instead?

His question is silly, you aren’t that eight year old child anymore – the one who’d run away and leave their friends in the street the same instant the clock stroke seven-thirty.

It’s way past seven now, air breezy and short of any sunrays piercing through it, but not even the scariest monster in this world could make you budge from the tranquility surrounding you in this very moment.

It’s almost as if the thought of a life without Kuroo Tetsurou horrifies you more than anything else that’s out in the wild, waiting for you.

“That’s what I was wondering too”, you sigh. “It might be because you’re here.”

And just like that, your secret is disclosed; it’s a simple statement that makes your lungs feel lighter, the burden of having to bear it within your chest for so long now easing with every exhale you take.

He gulps. The arm around your shoulders seems to have become stiffer, too. He’s already close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek and all you wish for is to lean into his embrace, all of this talk turning your eyelids heavy.

“But I was there all those years ago as well. What changed?”

“Well, for starters, I was what, eight years old?” you scoff, meeting his eyes momentarily before you let your head fall on his chest, inhaling deeply. You have yearned for the scent of the fresh new leaves ever since they wilted last October. “I guess I wasn’t in love with you back then, Tetsu.”

It’s silent. You think it’s unfair – everything you’ve built over the years rapidly slipping through your fingers, just because of one sentence full of longing, anticipation. But then his arm travels down to wrap itself around your waist, the other one finding its way to the nape of your neck.

It’s not the first time he’s heard those words leave your mouth - his imagination has deceived him multiple times already. He’d wake up only to find himself clinging onto his pillow, providing enough heat to trick him into thinking it belonged to you.

However, your scent is way too real for everything to be fake this time around; it simply can’t be. The words he’s been longing to hear are there, the confession lingering in the air only for him and the trees around you to know.

All it takes now is for you to learn his answer, even though the way he’s pulling you into his body gives you an idea of what it might be.

“Do you know why I never went home before you did?” he asks.

“Mm. Why?” your voice is muffled by his hoodie, the vibration sending chills down his spine. He’s convinced now. This is truly his reality he’d always been wishing for.

“Because you were there,” he tilts his head, moving your chin so you can look up at him. He’s grinning, and if he didn’t just admit he was in love with you, you’d probably be now telling him how lame you thought he was. “I couldn’t understand it then, the way your presence made me feel at peace. I realized what it was only when we started high school. I didn’t want to say anything, though.”

“So?”

“So,” he says, his hand leaving your waist to join his other one on your face, lightly squishing your cheeks. “I’m very much in love with you, too.”

His gaze momentarily shifts to your lips, before it’s back on your eyes. “I really want to kiss you, [name].”

The entirety of your body heat accumulates in your face, and his fingers effortlessly melt against it, your body sinking into the grassy earth as if it’s sand.

“Do you?” you ask, your thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“Yes. Can I?”

You nod, and Kuroo swears his heart skips a beat. Hypnotized, he allows his eyes to flutter shut, ready to memorize all the various flavors you have to offer.

When finally he gets to savor your bare, delicate skin - sweeter than anything he has ever tasted before, it’s like the world stops for the both of you.

Or maybe you only drift to your own, each swipe of his tongue guiding you through a new route, the destination of which has yet to be discovered.