#you just keep choosing each other over and over and I think that would be such a novel concept for hi

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

one; you are not meant for me // but the heart wants what it wants

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, blasphemy, currently married!reader, fluff if you squint (no adultery)

wc.4.2k

featured track. the 6th summer by PLAVE

my heart knew it was you from the moment we met. but you were never mine to begin with.

kageyama tobio is a logical person. his teammates would describe him as a mechanically precise monster who can effectively deconstruct opponent plays and use his insights to counter strategize their own attacks. a highly rationale driven individual, known to be impassive off court. 

in his high school years, he has watched his senpais yearn after their manager, even hinata, falling for a classmate in their third year, the relationship ending in tears when they broke it off because hinata was leaving to brazil. he has seen love take precedent and how it always seem to break the hearts of those involved. 

but he never understood why someone would put so much of themselves on line to love someone who could choose to walk away at any point in time. 

unlike most people’s beliefs, kageyama isn’t heartless, or emotionless, or indifferent to love. after all, he loves volleyball just fine. it’s just—he figures, why love someone, when they always leave you behind, whether voluntarily or otherwise?—why love someone, when he can choose to devote himself to volleyball which will never abandon him?

and then you came into the picture, wholly unaccounted for. a fellow setter, a true rival, and he found himself wanting to fly with you. someone who understands his pivotal role in his team’s offense, the control tower, as he had once said to hinata. someone who obsesses over every little detail as he does.

at first, he had attributed the feeling of recognition to meeting a true rival in you as a fellow setter. that feeling that he had yearned for as a middle schooler watching the senpai he looked up to, oikawa-san, serve and set like a god. the connection he missed due to rivalry, and the connections he severed unknowingly to be the team that stays on the court the longest. 

it couldn’t have been love, because if it was, then he would also be in love with hinata like everyone keeps saying. besides, why would he fall for someone who is in a relationship?

it would be immoral to fall for you, he reasons, you are dating kuroo-san.

he quickly learns that despite the warm demeanor you have when it comes to volleyball, you keep everyone at an arm’s length outside of it. he notices the line you draw between your professional career and your personal life, and he is careful to stay on the right side. 

he allows you to set the boundaries that you are comfortable with, keeping to the practice meets that became a monthly routine where you exchange your latest updates on your plays and offer pointers on improving, dissecting each other’s games that quickly spilled over into its own afternoon meetups over coffee. 

slowly but surely, it turns from a fan and her idolized player into two equals analyzing and plotting improvements for their next game strategies. 

of course, kageyama shares the admiration that comes from picking your brain on his weekly calls with hinata. 

“i don’t know how i didn’t think of that before oumae-san suggested it—” he stops himself as he catches hinata giving him a look of sympathy, snapping at the older boy, “what?”

“kageyama, do you know how many times i have heard you talk about oumae-san in the past months?”

“huh? why would i be keeping count?” he frowns at him through the screen.

hinata nods in pity, “exactly. i don’t know either because you are constantly saying oumae-san this, oumae-san that.”

kageyama averts his eyes from his friend, feeling the tips of his ears warming under his inspection. “i don’t talk about her that much.” it comes out in an unconvincing mumble.

“you know i would support you no matter what you do, but oumae-san is getting married to kuroo-san soon. i don’t think it’s good for you to keep pining after a soon-to-be married woman.”

he wishes he could snipe the orange haired boy through the screen, only because he is right. he drags a hand over his face in frustration. damn him, he knows that he is falling for you, but he is utterly helpless in stopping himself. 

you’re a dreamy sunny day that he wishes to bask in forever. too bad kageyama is the snow storm that sweeps through winter. 

kageyama tobio well knows that he is truly hopeless from the moment he realized that he fell for you, the mind behind the name. 

he is in love with the way your mind works to find counters against your opponent’s defense and open up a path for your team’s attacks. the way you find just the perfect moment to do a setter dump, catching the other team unaware. the way you dissect and analyze plays calmly during timeouts. the way you listen intently to him when he speaks.

the worst part is that you are not even trying to make him fall for you. you are just being your perfectly normal self, keeping all your interactions at a respectful and professional level—probably more professional than respectful at this point, since you would give him shit for his unforced errors. (actually, he also likes that you keep him accountable, unlike most people who would brush them off as mistakes that happen sometimes.)

that gods-forsaken line between your professional and personal lives now more solid than before as a married woman. 

and yet, he had fallen for you without even trying. 

he had tried to follow hinata’s advice to move on from you, to quote him directly—“stop putting her on a pedestal. she’s only human, she is bound to have something that irks you.”

he tried, really, to find your faults in your interactions. the tiny crease between your eyebrows as you think hard about the game you are exchanging analysis on, the small pout on your lips as you work through possible counterattacks. your dry reply when he says something dumb, or the excitement in your eyes when recounting a strategy (that you both came up with together) that worked. 

it’s not working. in fact, it’s achieving quite the opposite of moving on from you.

he curses hinata shoyo for his shit advice as he watches your practice match against france from the vip section in the stands. something feels off, he thinks, finding that you are not landing evenly on both feet when you set to your spikers. 

he realizes a moment too late that you are heavily favoring your left foot over the other just as you land awkwardly on your ankle—your shrill yelp sounding from the court. 

kageyama jumps to his feet worriedly, hands gripping the back of the seat in front of him as he peers over to you. he reminds himself that he is just another professional acquaintance of yours, forcing himself to take a seat as your coach and teammates rush over to you. 

you don’t play for the rest of the game. 

later that night, upon finding no news from any media outlets about the severity of your injury after scouring the internet, he starts typing out a message to you—how are you doing?

no, that won’t do, he shakes his head, deleting the small letters on his phone before typing out another message—is your ankle alright?

he pauses for a few moments, wondering if he would be crossing a boundary to inquire about your wellbeing. i probably shouldn’t, he decides against it for the better, choosing to believe (or hope) that no news is good news. 

he erases the message to your number, letting the device fall next to him as he puts his arm over his forehead. fuck, what am i doing? 

you have a loving husband to go home to, who will take good care of you. there’s no place for someone as removed as him to be worrying after you.

after all, gods are meant to be worshiped from a distance, and you would fit right in next to the ones who torment him so. 

to his dismay, his delusions of relief only lasted a few days. 

kageyama tobio knows something is wrong the moment he finds the court empty on the third friday of the month. the court that you live and breathe on. the court that he always finds you practicing your serves while waiting for him. 

his heart catches in his throat as he rings your number, holding his breath as he desperately hopes that you are okay. 

you pick up on the seventh ring. “kageyama-san? ah, sorry. i forgot to tell you that i won’t be able to make it to practice today.”

“it’s fine, kuroo-san. i was at your match on sunday. are you doing alright?” you both stubbornly stick to using formalities when addressing each other—kuroo-san to remind himself that you are so far beyond his reach that he can just forget about it. (he doesn’t.)

“oh, that? i’m fine,” kageyama breathes out a sigh of relief from hearing your words. relief that comes too soon, as it is quickly followed by your strangled yelp coming from the other end.

“that didn’t sound like you are fine.” he realizes you must be saying that just to keep him from worrying, any rational thought flying out of his mind. 

he had seen kuroo-san, your husband in passing at work just this morning, but if you’re injured, and still stubbornly moving around, or worse, even keeping it from your own husband—“send me your address, i’ll be over soon.”

kageyama ends up having to call in the team physician to look at your horribly swollen ankle, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself in line. the tips of his fingers twitch every so often when you wince at her touch as she inspects your ankle. 

he tells himself that you are so, so strictly off limits. 

though, he makes the mistake of asking about kuroo-san, your husband. he wishes that the words never left his lips as his eyes catch the microexpression that betrays your emotions. you quickly brushes off his question with a joke, as if you have had plenty of practice.

he barely keeps that haze of anger in check as he calls your husband after excusing himself for the night and wishing you a speedy recovery, not allowing himself to ponder on the ‘what could have been’s—of how he would never put work above you, especially if you’re hurt.

he politely explains your situation to your husband, and yet kuroo has the audacity to sound offended at his request to spend more time taking care of you in your condition as an outsider.

“she’s my wife, i know how to take care of her.”

then act like it. kageyama bites back the retort, knowing that it wouldn’t help matters—that it might actually add to your burden instead of easing it. 

he bristles when kuroo tells him that he has to go finish up some work before he could leave, mystified as to why kuroo would ever put work above you. 

kageyama pockets his phone and lets his arm hang lax by his side, shaking his head at himself. it’s not his place to worry over you, much less tell kuroo how to be a husband. 

the gods have judged him, and deemed him unworthy of you. 

kageyama tobio knows your serve routine by heart. a tuck of your hair over your left ear, then your right, followed by a swish of your ponytail to confirm that it is holding securely. fingers smoothing over the hem of your jersey. your left hand outstretched with the ball in front of you, you would lick over your top lip, teeth catching your bottom lip before you launch the ball upwards and forwards, body coiling into a spring that shoots the ball out across the net.

he knows the extra time you take to warm up your right wrist due to a prior injury. the overly bubbly personality that you hide behind when you are upset or disappointed. the modest smile that is dazzling (he swears that you really do sparkle when you smile like that), not because you’re pulling your charm out, but because you are not. 

your unpretentious smile that comes from the heart still guts him each time becoming less common, to his disappointment. and gods, does he try to coax that smile from you when he sees you, would give you the entire universe with all the planets and stars in it if he could, just to see the unfiltered crooked smile from you. the one you claim to hate because it reveals the singular dimple on your cheek. 

he also knows that you love flowers, deduced from the bouquet of peonies on your lockscreen and the different floral arrangements that you post to your social media each week. and your order at the coffee shop that you get without fail—latte with lavender and honey instead of simple syrup.

he knows all the details he picked up from his observations in the time he has known you, details that he absolutely adore, while being hyper cognizant of the line drawn between you. 

he knows, lives at the edge of that boundary drawn by you, enforced by him. his iron grip on his own actions to hold the line, keeping his desires as they are—a daydream of a world where the gods favored him. 

kageyama knows this all too well. 

and because of that, he knows something is not right when your contact lights up his phone screen with an incoming call on a friday night. 

your number is saved under kuroo y/n, a reminder of where he stands in your life. he addresses you as kuroo-san, another constant reminder to stand firm on his side of the line. 

he hesitates, but his index finger swipes across the screen, accepting your call before his logical side could stop it.

your voice crackles across the line before he could get a word in. “you finally picked up!” 

he could just picture the pout on your face (that also appears during practices when you mess up), but it was the childish whimsy that accompanies your slurred words that dusts his cheeks in pink—the intimacy in your tone that he suspects is not meant for his ears.

“i miss you,” you admit softly, sadly, in a tone that makes his heart clench in pain. as much as he would like to give you comfort, anything you ask him for, really, he knows he’s not the one you’re really looking for. 

“yuki, give that back!” you complain, sounding further away from your phone. another female voice comes into the call, “no, is that kuroo tetsuro? that asshole!” 

kageyama thinks he should say something to clear up the situation, but the words die in his throat—what could he say, really?

“wait, what? kageyama?” the other female mumbles to herself, and kageyama assumes that whoever that yuki is returns the phone to you as your sweet voice calls out to him again. 

“are you done with work yet? you’ve been so busy again lately…” you trail off, “do you think we will go see the cherry blossoms outside of tokyo next year? you promised we would this year, but something came up with your work.”

he really doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about your marriage, but he would be lying if your words don’t make him upset on your behalf. it makes his blood boil to even think about his senpai prioritizing work over his wife. from what he witnessed when you were injured, and now this—you begging for his time, it is exceeding hard to believe otherwise. 

why would he choose work over you? he tries not to read too much into the situation, but—if that asshole is really making you live on scraps of his love, why are you still with him? 

oh right, because you love kuroo tetsuro. 

if kageyama was in his shoes, he would never make you ask him for his time. in fact, he would make sure you feel like the most loved person in the entire world. what do you even see in him— 

he shakes himself out of his intrusive thoughts, wondering instead if he made the right decision to give kuroo a push back then; if he just contributed to dragging out your situation rather than helping. he reminds himself that you had looked happier in the following weeks, until now.

he opens his mouth to say something, but your friend beats him to it. “say, you should come pick y/n up! it’s pretty late and she’s so plastered.”

finally, he stumbles to his words. “kuroo-san, i don’t think—”

he isn’t sure if you hear him over the loud music in the background and your friend’s insistence for him to come pick you up. “i’ll send the address to you, please come get her before she drinks herself to death.” 

he wonders if she knows. 

it isn’t long before he pulls up at the address you sent him, parking at a street lot that opened up as he drove by, lucky him. kageyama feels out of place among the partygoers in the club, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie over his plain t-shirt. 

he wonders if you would be disappointed to see him instead of your husband. your good for nothing husband who is apparently still at work on a friday night.

kageyama tells himself he shouldn’t feel as crestfallen as he does at that thought. just as he shouldn’t feel the skip in his heartbeat when his eyes land on you, or the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss the top of your head. 

or the protective instinct that kicks in as he gets closer, sensing the exhaustion in your demeanor, wishing to shield you against everything that the world throws at you. 

he really, really shouldn’t feel the relief that floods his veins at the gratitude in your eyes—not disappointment, he notes—and the gentle smile that graces your lips at his approach. that smile that he loves so much, knocking the breath out of him, reflecting on his own features that are normally set in a disinterested scowl. 

gods, is there anything he wouldn’t do to keep that smile on your face?

“tobio, you came.” his name leaving your lips for the first time, as you fling yourself into his arms with such familiarity that he has never seen from you. it takes every inch of his willpower to not crumble to the floor before you, beg you to let him love and worship you for the goddess you are. 

it takes every shred of his resolve to keep the words from overflowing past that cursed line. to keep his features neutral, intercept the storm ripping through his winter from touching your pleasant spring. 

so he holds on to you awkwardly, savoring the rare moment of affection, mumbling into your hair, “you called.”

“mmm, we’re celebrating my birthday! do you want a drink?” he releases you first, letting his arms fall to his sides. you tug him towards the bar before another woman stops you, disapproval set in the lines of her face.

“i let you out of my sight to go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and you’re already making a beeline to the bar.” this must be the yuki on the phone then. her eyes flicker behind you to kageyama. “this is kageyama?” 

“kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.” he manages a stiff nod.

“tsuda yuki. thanks for coming on a short notice, i appreciate it. she really doesn’t want to leave, and kuroo isn’t picking up.” yuki keeps a firm grip on you, tugging you in the opposite direction—to the exit, narrowing her eyes when you pout at her. 

you seem to have mellowed out since kageyama arrived, the sadness behind your eyes just a tad lighter if the strobing lights weren’t playing tricks on her. oh, whatever works, works. it’s almost two in the morning, and she thanks the gods that you are finally willing to go. 

yuki exchanges a few words with kageyama before they come to a mutual decision to have him drop you home since he has a car and she has to call a cab in the opposite direction of where you live. 

“be good for kageyama, please?” she basically begs you to be on your best behavior as her cab shows up. you’re clinging onto her like your life depends on it.

“we’ll be fine, tsuda-san.” kageyama tries to assure her, but she shoots him a look of disbelief. 

“you don’t know her like i do. she is… really out of hand when she has alcohol in her system. the last time she was this drunk, she tried to—” the cab honks at her to hurry up. “are you sure you got this?”

“yeah, i’ll have her call you when i drop her off.”

tsuda-san is right. kageyama comes to that conclusion after spending 15 minutes trying to get you into the passenger seat and checking that you put your seatbelt on.

he breathes a sigh of relief, focusing on the road ahead as you finally settle down, preoccupied with the buildings and bright lights that pass by in a blur. strangely enough he finds that he didn’t mind it one bit, having his hands full with taking care of a drunk you. he actually found this wild, unchecked side of you endearing.

he gently shakes you awake once he parks the car. it seems like most of the alcoholic effects have worn off during the drive as you lean onto him for support in the elevator, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes. 

your apartment is dark, devoid of life as you enter, kicking your shoes off in the entryway, mumbling a tadaima, mostly to yourself. kageyama would have missed it if he was not following closely behind you, making sure you don’t trip and fall over. 

his heart aches at the thought of you coming home to an empty apartment, your tadaima announcing that you’re home unmet with its other okaeri half from your husband to welcome you back. 

“make yourself at home, tobio,” you curl up on the couch, putting on a travel vlog on the tv on a low volume before dialing yuki’s number, letting her know you’re home safely. 

“hey, why don’t you change into more comfortable clothes? let me get you some painkillers. where is the medicine cabinet?” he nudges your shoulder. you lean back against the headrest, pouting at him again. if only you knew the effect you have on him.

“i’m lazyyy.” 

kageyama attempts to reason with you. “c’mon, you can go to bed right after too.”

“too tired to move.” you cross your arms at him. 

“kuroo-san…” he sighs. 

“why do you always call me that? my name is y/n, you know.”

“y/n, would you please change into pajamas?”

“nope.”

“what can i do to change your mind?”

your grin splits your face from ear to ear. “you could carry me to the room.”

“what—” he rubs the spot between his eyebrows. “okay, fine.”

kageyama scoops you into his arms effortlessly, and can't help but notice how the shape of you fits perfectly against him. your eyelashes flutter close as you rest your head against his shoulder, inhaling deeply and exhaling the spooled stiffness in your frame. 

the fullness in his heart lasts less than a minute. he catches himself staring at you when you meet his gaze, fingers smoothing against his brow as your feet touch the floor. “you’re going to get wrinkles before your time, tobio.”

he scurries back to the living room, leaving it at that. his cheeks are colored again, his back against the shut door of your bedroom, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. 

“stop it.” he mutters, more so at himself than anything, looking through the cabinets in the kitchen for some painkillers, and filling two tall glasses of water for you. he knocks on your door after a few minutes, easing the door open carefully when you tell him he’s clear to enter. 

he hands you the pills in one hand, water glass in the other. “drink up.” 

kageyama notices the melancholy in your eyes resurfacing as you lean back against your pillow on your side, hand outstretched towards the empty half of the queen-sized bed, but he wisely chooses to leave it be. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, turning on your side away from him. “good night, tobio. thanks for coming.”

“of course.” anything for you. kageyama tucks you under the blanket, fingers smoothing over the duvet, itching to run them through your hair. he curls his hand into a fist and shoves it in his pocket before his body betrays him. 

“happy belated birthday, kuroo-san.” he whispers into the darkness, leaving the full glass of water by your bed, and quietly closes the door behind him. he turns off all the lights in your apartment and washes up the other glass, fighting the strong urge to check on you when he hears a muffled whimper coming from your bedroom. 

you probably don’t want him to see you like that. 

he forces his feet out the front door. and a smile onto his face the next day when he sees you with puffy eyes and no memories of the night before. 

he really, really wishes he met you first. 

kageyama tobio curses the gods that put him on this trajectory. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @hiraethwrote @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (open! askbox for taglist)

a/n. the pining, the heartache, the devotion; kageyama you will be loved </3 y'all i love him so MUCH i actually don't have the words to describe it... tobio brainrot all day every day <33 please expect slow updates!

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Hello my friend, I have a prompt for you. 👀

I thought of Penguin and Reader dating secretly, only because they don't know if Law would approve of it and Penguin doesn't want to be teased by Shachi or anyone else right away, but someone figures it out, catches them, or they slip up on front of everyone and the whole crew finds out.

You can take it however you want! 💚

Secret Dating (Penguin x reader)

A/N: Uhh I like this idea and I hope I can make you happy with it :3

“Pen, stop for a second.” You said between quick kisses. Penguin pouted. “They are still eating lunch. So we have a few minutes just for us.” He said and captured your lips once again, while caressing your cheek. You got weak in the knees but he supported your body just fine with right hand at your back. Somehow you managed to get yourself a cute boyfriend. None other than your long-time crush and crewmate Penguin. You were a thing for over two months now and no one knows anything. Not even Ikkaku nor Shachi. You were afraid that Law wouldn’t approve it, letting you guys choose to stay a couple or being part of the heart pirates. Ikkaku and Hakugan knew of your Crush on Penguin and Shachi knew about Penguin’s crush on you. No one could understand why exactly you had feelings for him in the first place. “You sure? He has like… negative rizz.” Ikkaku’s words echoed through your mind. So as you two had night watch you were cuddling to keep yourself warm and somehow ended up staring at each other's eyes and soon enough your  lips connected for the first time ever.

Suddenly you felt his hat on your head. “Come on sweetheart. Just a little affection please.” Penguin snuggled himself into the crook of your neck. Plantering it with soft kisses. You wanted to give in so badly but the sound of approaching footsteps became louder. “Later.” You said and gave him a quick peck while giving Penguin his hat back. Soon enough you were moving towards the footsteps and saw Law and Bepo. Law was standing before you, looking at you with a frown on his face. You felt a little nervous. “Is everything alright, Captain?” He looked at you and suddenly towards the corridor you just left. You could’ve sworn that you just saw a light smile on his face as he was turning towards you once more. “Just letting you know, that we will dock in a few minutes. You can enjoy the afternoon.” After a few steps, Law’s voice stopped your track. “I heard that there is a good ice cream spot. Might check it out with Penguin. You know he likes sweet things.” You tilted your head in confusion as you were about to find Ikkaku and Penguin. Bepo couldn’t help but look between you and Law. “I like ice cream as well, Captain.” Law smirked. “I know, Bepo. We can go for one as well.” “So we can go on an undercover date.” Penguin beamed as soon as you told him about the free afternoon and ice cream spot. You nodded with a bright smile. Penguin was looking in every direction, making sure no one caught you. As soon as he noticed that the coast was clear, he closed the distance and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards his arms and hugging you tight. “But we can stay here and have some quality time as well, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but blush heavenly. “B-But what about the others?” You stuttered and heard his laughter. The sound of his laugh, made your heart jump once more. “I wanna spend time with you without having the fear of getting caught. Maybe we should tell the captain about us.” He pulled away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” The man standing in front of you nodded and you were thinking about it. “Maybe we should get something for him and tell him then.” “Sounds like a plan.”

With that you followed him and you were going through the streets hand in hand. You were laughing, went shopping and ate delicious food. As you saw a little bookstore you decided to enter it and leave Penguin waiting outside while eating his ice cream for a little bit. Soon after you hear the voice of Shachi and Ikkaku behind you. “Hey whatcha doing?” You turned around, grinning at your two crewmates. “Just looking for something interesting.” The three of you were talking for a little bit. Shachi was looking towards the exit and smirked. “We should stay inside for a little bit more.” Ikkaku and you tilted your head in confusion. Shachi was pointing outside. “Seems like, Penguin’s mysterious aura by hiding his face under his hat, is working. There is a cute girl outside, clinging onto his arm. My man got himself a girlfriend” You stared at him in disbelief. Anger rising inside you. “He already has one.”, you gritted your teeths and stormed outside.

A tall woman with beautiful long blonde hair was indeed clinging onto his arm, Penguin seemed nervous and tried to move away from her, freeing himself. “You know I would love to see your eyes darling.” He gulped. “Yeah,... that’s not happening. Can you let go of me please?” She pressed herself more into him, his arm was touching her chest. “Oh come one. How about I show you around? I would love to get to know you more.” Your rage was rising as you heard Shachi’s giggle. With fast steps you were stomping towards your boyfriend and this girl. With a swift movement, you took her arm and pulled her away. “Ouch what the hell is wrong with you?!” she screamed at you and looked at you. “The hell is wrong with me? You are flirting with my boyfriend!” Shachi and Ikkaku, were interested in this scenario and whispered to each other, loud enough for you to hear. “Do you have an idea what’s happening here right now?” “I dunno, maybe they are faking it?” While you had an argument with that woman, Law and Bepo joined Ikkaku and Shachi. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag huh?” He asked and Ikkaku and Shachi were looking at him. “Are they dating?” they asked in union and Law nodded. “I think it was quite obvious.” As soon as the woman left you clinged onto Penguins arm. “Ehm Y/n..” He said and you turned towards your friends and captain. They were looking at you with such disbelief in their eyes, except for Law. “I can explain it…” Law was taking a few steps towards you. “Why did you think you had to hide the fact that you are dating each other?” “Because we had to choose between our love and the crew.” You said nonchalant. Law couldn’t help but frown. “Sometimes I’m not sure if you are idiots or not.” With that he walked past you. “Oh before I forgot.” He said and turned around. “Just be quiet while you are alone and doing things. Oh, one more thing: Your daily duty and the crew should be your number one priority.” With a heavy blush you and Penguin choked on air. “Wait captain I …I mean we.. we wouldn’t…” “Wow now that I think about it, it was quite obvious.” Ikkaku said and Shachi nodded. “Double negative rizz, might be more effective than I thought.” The red hair said while laughing. Penguin was grabbing your hand while the other two were busy, laughing and chatting. “So it’s ok to hold hands now, right?” With a grin you tiptoed to give him a chaste kiss on his lips. “And this might be fine as well.” With a dumbfounded grin he was capturing your lips one last time. “I love you.”

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

(—I didn’t expect this)

Alter!Keith: You don’t even look sleepy.

Emma: You’ll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.

Alter!Keith: So you’re saying you didn’t cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?

Emma: Well…I wouldn’t say cry, but rather, I’ve gotten so angry I thought I’d explode.

Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Would’ve been interesting to see you rage.

Moonlight dimly lit the room.

Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.

The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. 

Alter!Keith: … Sorry.

(...For what happened back at the estate, I’m guessing)

(I have a feeling he’s not used to apologizing)

The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.

Emma: Just words?

Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?

Emma: I want you to sleep.

Alter!Keith: You’re still worried about these dark circles? Too bad I’m not feeling sleepy.

Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.

Alter!Keith: I’m still not done dealing with those people, so there’ll be trouble if he comes to the front. …Well, causing trouble would be convenient for me.

Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldn’t sense his true intentions.

Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.

(Wicked Prince Keith didn’t have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)

(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)

(So much more than I could ever imagine…He only lives for the nice Prince Keith)

(Probably never for himself)

I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.

(I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t do anything to help, even when I’m right beside him)

(But I don’t want to keep being someone that can’t do anything)

Alter!Keith: Hm?

I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.

I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keith’s ears.

Alter!Keith: What are you doing?

Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax. There’s too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away. …Please let me at least do this.

(I want to help lift this burden, even if it’s just for now)

Alter!Keith: …

Prince Keith’s sigh melted into the dimly lit room.

Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.

Alter!Keith: That guy’s future fiancee sure is softhearted.

Emma: …How did you know?

Alter!Keith: You don’t look like the type to invite someone else to your room when you’re engaged.

A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.

Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the future… Is that guy finally smiling?

(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)

Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.

Emma: …Yes, he’s smiling. So, so much. Every day, from morning to night, he’ll smile on various occasions. Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyes…Ah, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cute… And before we sleep—mmph.

Alter!Keith: I didn’t tell you to gush about it.

(Hmm, I was doing that)

I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.

Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like he’s happy…else there’d be no point in me being around. … That guy came back.

(Ah…)

Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.

Alter!Keith: Huh…me?

Emma: Of course.

Alter!Keith: What…I didn’t disappear?

(Ah, I thought so)

~~ Flashback ~~

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

~~ End flashback ~~

(It’s been on his mind this whole time)

(The way he said it, he assumed he didn’t exist anymore in the future)

Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, it’s only natural for him to think that way.

(But I don’t want him to assume that)

(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)

Emma: In the future, I’m engaged to both Prince Keiths. I love you both and you’re both more important to me than anything else.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: That’s why I don’t want you to think you’re someone that will disappear. I won’t let you think that. I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.

When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.

It looked like he believed me.

Emma: I’m still new to it, so there’s only so much I can do to help you. But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.

Alter!Keith: You’ve already done enough. Actually, I… Your words saved me.

The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.

--

(Mmm…I’m in…)

Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.

When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keith’s room.

(Everything that just happened was all a dream)

(It was a pretty realistic dream…my heart still aches a bit)

Alter!Keith: Thought you weren’t in your own room. You were here instead.

Emma: Ah…Prince Keith.

(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)

Alter!Keith: …

(What’s wrong?)

When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.

He awkwardly patted my head.

Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.

Emma: Ah…Well, I was remembering the dream I had.

Alter!Keith: …That so. Then nothing happened to you.

Emma: Sorry for worrying you.

Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.

Emma: Eep!

After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.

(Back then and now, Prince Keith’s kindness never changed)

Emma: Um, so your official duties…?

Alter!Keith: I’m done with them.

Emma: You finished pretty early today.

Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you. Since it’s your day off, there’s no point in my working that hard in the first place.

(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)

(...So you want to spend time with me?)

Emma: Mnn…

He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.

It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.

We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.

(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)

(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)

Warmth spread in my chest.

(I want this to keep being the norm for him)

With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.

[raayllum]

Callum is so right about Rayla never doing anything for herself. You could say freeing Runaan was for herself but she also treats it as her "sacred promise" and chose him for Ethari too (shows how great her heart is). You think sparing Callum will finally count as her doing something for herself? Choosing her future and her love for him over the "greater good". She couldn't get her og parents back‚ this girl keeps losing and suffering she seriously deserves more wins

God, I could write an entire meta about that line - maybe one day when I'm feeling self indulgent. In regards to your actual prompt, re: saving Callum will count as something for herself -- a big yes, absolutely, I think! Though I think freeing her parents is something she deeply wanted for herself, too ("I miss you so much" / "so I wanted to do something for yourself for you") even if it was something she was continually putting off till the Aaravos situation, as far as she knew, was resolved

Prior to S6 I went back and forth on whether the show would frame Rayla's end of the possession plot line / trying to get Callum back as either "It doesn't matter what happens to me (again) I just want to save him" (which is what leaving in TTM and other moments was about) OR whether it'd be framed as "I refuse to sacrifice him / something I want (again)" and therefore be character development. I leaned towards the latter for reasons outlined here since the two have the chance to be even more thematically codependent than they already are in terms of their senses of identity:

As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he’s still in there), Rayla likely won’t be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other’s main connection to their sense of identity. As long as Callum is Callum (“you’re the destiny is a book you write yourself guy”), he’s worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla (“Rayla’s brave. She saves people” / “Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I’m going home”). As long as she’s Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn’t Callum, then he’s dead, and if he’s dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won’t be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.

This goes both ways of course - Callum can't/won't sacrifice Rayla because to do so would be to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself (namely his deep and Pure devotion to others which means he'll never go entirely down the negative side of Viren's path, and keep to the positive - leaving Aaravos, breaking free, etc). This was subtext prior to S6, but now it's actual text (she's his light/truth/hope of salvation, etc) so it goes double going forward. This is true for Rayla too — Callum is her guiding light and her star, he's one of the people who's taught her the most about how to love and the person she wants to be.

With all that in mind, yeah, I do think that Rayla will choose to not sacrifice Callum for the right reasons. Part of this is scaffolded under witnessing Callum not sacrificing her No Matter What prior to her won choice, and realizing "what [she] most deeply desires" isn't just Callum's survival even, but specifically the life they can have together, which she needs to stick around for and thereby not sacrifice herself. Runaan is also explicitly remorseful over the actions he took towards her where he choose duty over love, so Rayla realizing she should choose love over duty ties into them growing together as well in a positive way. We also see her realize some of this I think in choosing to let Lain and Tiadrin stay together rather than separate them specifically because of the Moonphoenix bracelet Callum gave her as well.

"I risked losing the best thing I ever had" because of her own duty turned revenge vs "I refuse to lose either of us like this" and finally fully accepting an assassin was never who she was and never who she Should be, in sacrificing others' lives or her own included. Them both Choosing each other above everything else was exactly what I was hoping for as soon as the "I need you to kill me" plot line started / wrote in my first CHET fic pre-S4 years ago:

She has two options as she pulls away. She can make a grab for her swords and go out, swords blazing. Kill Viren or Aaravos if she can as the sky splits open, purple and thrumming with magic; die with a sword in her hand in all likelihood. The release spell has already started. Or she can help Callum up, and they can live to fight another day—together. Rayla grips the back of his jacket. Presses her forehead to his neck for a second, tears building her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. His arm tightens around her, like he’s braced for her to go. “Rayla—” “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, sobbing. This is all her fault, but she can’t do that to him. “We have to get out of here.” [...]

Callum is staring at her when she pulls back and she swallows hard. She doesn’t know what to say. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he speaks first. “You chose me,” he says, not quite softly; she can tell there’s a lump in his throat. An edge of anger that not doing so was even an option. “Yeah, well. It was about time,” she says quietly. “I—”

So uh, here's hoping!

[brokenheartsrecords]

track four: to break an engagement words: 0.8K tw: none taglist: @lxvebelle , @that-daughter-of-hephaestus find track three here note: not really my favourite piece of work, but it does set the scene

HAWTHORNE MANSION IS COLD AND uninviting. You’re going to marry into this house, this family, but it doesn’t look like it might be yours.

In your mind, you know that you can make the house look like yours, but you’re looking for reasons to not marry Grayson. It’s not that you don’t want to.

It’s just that you don’t know him.

He’s perfect in the limited societal events he chooses to attend; doesn’t drink more than one glass of any drink provided, his name never appearing in gossip sheets. There is nothing about him that could possibly be a valid enough reason to break off the engagement.

Unless he has a secret double life that might endanger your own life. 

You haven’t forgotten the voices you heard in the walls of your home, talking about your wedding to Lord Hawthorne, malicious sounding and rather creepy. 

You want to tell your mother about this, you really do. You would’ve done it, too, if she weren’t so excited that her daughter was getting married.

In the drawing room of Hawthorne House, Grayson sits beside you, careful not to let any part of his frame touch yours.

There was one problem about him.

He was too damn gentlemanly.

Skye and your mother are talking about the marriage banns and the engagement festivities on the other end of the room, pretending as though they really don’t care about anything that you and Grayson might talk about.

You should tell him that you hadn’t orchestrated this entire engagement, but he looks cold.

Just like the house.

You take a deep breath. You open our mouth.

And right at that moment, he leaps up, walking away from the seat like it burned him.

You’re confused, and you notice that Skye and your mother have stopped talking, instead choosing to look at Grayson.

He smiles, and it looks rather forced, and when he looks at you, his hand extended, you’re sure that he’d do anything to get out of this engagement.

“I was hoping if you’d like to take a go at the hedge mazes.” He begins. “You weren’t able to see much the last time you were here.”

Oh God, he absolutely hates you.

Still, you plaster a smile on your face and take his hand. “Of course, my Lord. Is it alright if we do so, Mama?”

“Oh, yes. I doubt Ms. Skye and I have any qualms about this. Do take a maid with you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, Mama.”

With a maid trailing five steps behind you, Grayson Hawthorne leads you into the maze, and your head supplies you with a mental image of him killing you when the maid is lost in the hedges,

You snort.

“Something funny, Madam?” He seems less on edge here in the maze. 

“Just… imagining,” you say.

“Imagining.”

“Hmm.”

Uncomfortable silence takes over the space the two of you stand in. 

“This is ridiculous.” You start. “You obviously do not want to marry me,” you untangle your elbow from his, “and I don’t want to marry you—and please do not take offense to that, Lord Hawthorne, I’m sure the two of us would rather wed people we know instead of people we do not.”

He looks surprised, and opens his mouth. You keep going on, not stopping at all.

“And the worst part is we can’t break the engagement or my honout will be lost, damn it all.”

“...you do not wish to marry me?” He asks, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a bit offended.

“I don’t.” You confirm. 

He nods. “And you wish to break the engagement?”

“Yes.” 

He nods again. “As do I. Of course, it is not because of you—you do seem like a rather lovely person. I’ve just never felt the wish to marry.”

You grin. “Glad that this was sorted. Now, how are we going to break the engagement?”

Grayson smiles at you, one of those half smiles that you’ve always found attractive. “We drag society into this love affair.” He states, as though it was obvious. 

“Pardon?”

“Once they notice that you and I have no feelings towards each other, word will spread. It will reach my mother, and then yours. They, in turn, will be pressured by our delightful society to invalidate this marriage out of sympathy for you.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“We stage an extremely heated argument where you can scream falsehoods about me to my face and announce that you do not wish to marry me. Truthfully, this method is far more effective; but it would have me lose my dignity.”

The maid catches up behind you, and your elbow is intertwined with his again. “What do you say, my Lady? Are you ready to fool the proper English society?”

He looks straight in your eyes, and there’s a challenging glint in his. “When am I never?”

[dollishbabess]

someday my love, I will choose you always - dollish

A/n: yk what single ladies do? THEY WRITE SAD AND HEARTWARMING ROMANCE AND HAVE HIGH EXPECTATIONS BECAUSE OF IT, mentions of !love and death!

Second divider by @cafekitsune, first one by me

The moon hung high over Gotham, casting a silver glow across the skyline. You sat on the rooftop, the city below a world of chaos and vibrance, but up here, it felt peaceful. The only sound was the gentle rustle of the wind and the quiet hum of life in the streets below. You leaned against the cool brick, your thoughts lost in the beauty of the moment, night city’s were always beautiful.

Jason joined you, his presence both grounding and electrifying. He settled beside you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders. His warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, and you instinctively leaned closer, seeking comfort in his nearness.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, noticing the distant look in his eyes you wondered what he thought about.

He glanced over at you, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his features. “Just... thinking.”

“About?” you pressed gently, curiosity piqued.

For a moment, Jason was silent, his mind racing back through the memories of his past. Artemis had been fierce and independent, a breath of fresh air in a world filled with darkness. Then there was Rose—her strength and resilience were unmatched, yet their connection had always felt fraught with tension, the weight of unspoken words heavy between them it just wasn’t right… (🐻‍❄️)

But those memories paled in comparison to what he felt with you. With you, there was no tension, no chaos. Just a deep sense of love and understanding that made the world seem a little less harsh and violent.

As he opened his mouth to respond, the words vanished, and instead, he leaned in closer, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in that moment.

When he finally pulled away, your eyes searched his, trying to read the thoughts swirling behind his gaze. “What were you thinking about?” you asked again, your voice soft, almost teasing.

“Nothing,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his touch gentle yet electrifying. But in his mind, thoughts raced like lightning—you. Forever you. He envisioned a life together, one where he would kneel before you and ask you to marry him, to make promises that would span a lifetime.

You, with your infectious laughter and unwavering support, had found a way to heal the wounds of his past. You were a beacon of light in his life, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his heart swelling with emotion. In this moment, he realized he would do anything to keep you, to build a future together. He didn’t need to speak those thoughts aloud; you already understood in the silence between you.

“Okay,” you replied, your smile warm and reassuring. “I just... I love you, you know.”

Jason’s heart raced at your words. “I love you too,” he said, sincerity lacing every syllable. “More than you know.”

You nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you both stared out at the city, lost in the warmth of each other’s presence.

In that moment, everything felt right. Whatever ghosts of the past haunted him, they were just that—past. You were his present and his future, and he vowed silently that he would always fight for you, always choose you, and one day, he would make you his forever.

“I pronounce you now husband and wife” your memory faded away suddenly feeling nostalgic, you wish he was still here.

Please don’t steal! Or translate or put on other platforms

[sepetajmikolikomehoces]

Bojure snuggles. They’re so cute together, don’t you think? Did you have any thoughts about that tonight?

Oh, I had thoughts. So many thoughts. 630 words worth of thoughts, in fact.

He knows his reputation. Muca. Cat man. Sunshine. Jure is even man enough to admit he quite enjoys them, even plays up on his monikers on more than one occasion. Always a smile, always lands on his feet. Well, mostly. There was that incident in Dublin. And the hunting tower. And the time with the–

He knows. The others know. They know him well enough now to keep the metaphorical door open, because just like cats, Jure will choose his moments of intimacy. He’s just as likely to – quite literally – hang off any of them, as he is to withdraw, to be happy and content in his little bubble. 

It’s a balance, and his scales seem to always be a grain away from tipping this way or that. Jure doesn’t mind, not usually. Not so long as the step from one to the other is easy. A hug, a touch. Spending precious freetime in his garden, phone turned off. They are gradual, he can always feel the shift, can prepare, can plan.

It’s worse when the pendulum swings too far, too fast. Jure loves what he does, would not choose anything else in the world, no one else to share it with. And it’s fine when it’s euphoria, when it’s love like light and energy in his veins and Jure flies high and thinks maybe this is the time he can stay. 

(or at least not crash)

It’s fine. Until it isn’t. Until he is horizontal on stage, tired to the bone. Until he needs a week away from everything. Until he needs closeness like he’ll perish without it but can’t find the right words to ask for it.

“Stay.”

Bojan’s hand on his shoulder is gentle, sending shudders through his body. Everything is happening so much, so quickly, and it’s exciting. New single, new tour, hype and excitement. And Jure is so, so, so tired. The idea of driving home has been haunting him for the past hour as they wrapped up another long day, but home is home.

Quiet.

His own bed.

Too quiet.

Alone.

“Kris has a family thing tomorrow, he’ll stay at home,” Bojan continues, voice gentle and even. “Come over. You can– Don’t feel like you need to drive back home tonight. It was a long day for all of us.”

Jure hesitates, pauses in his efforts to tidy up something that has been in order for a while already.

“I don’t…”

“Please. Please, stay.”

Maybe he and Bojan are the same in a way, Jure thinks as he nods, finally looking up to meet Bojan’s gaze. Fine until they aren’t. How many times have they not ended up seeking each other out for comfort, equally tactile when their moments align? 

So, he goes. Follows Bojan home, follows Bojan’s lead, follows follows follows until within the safety of four walls two arms open and take him. Jure could melt when fingers gingerly thread through his hair, fingertips digging into his lower back and his spine seemingly unlocking vertebrae by vertebrae. His nose pressed against the crook of Bojan’s neck, the warmth and scent there familiar and comforting. From far away, words filter through, slowly unfolding meaning and intent, lining themselves up to lead him home like lanterns in the night.

Easy.

Easy.

Easy.

Like the nap shared on the pullout sofa bed.

Like Bojan clinging to him in tears after Martin’s last gig with them.

Like too many nights in Hamburg, in London, on the bus; wordlessly seeking comfort, always finding arms that will open.

Like now. The steady thump of Bojan's heart, fingertips drawing meaningless shapes from the nape of his neck down his spine and back up. It’s closeness like he needs it. Jure sighs, long and slow, and drifts off to sleep.

[ode-to-fury]

Friendship Astarion is so important to me. Like I know everyone is horny for the sassy elf but like… what if he learned to care for someone without sex? What if he tried to manipulate Tav into bed and they told him no? And then… kept being nice to him? Kept taking care of him and expecting the same in return? What if he doesn’t have to fall in love to realise he wants to live a life where he cares about things and makes his own decisions? What if he tells them about how he used his body anyway? What if they tell him he never has to again? What if they hug him and expect nothing back? What if they put their head on his shoulder and nothing else? What if, for the first time in 200 years, he felt safe enough to joke and laugh and not put on a show because it’s obvious they don’t feel that sort of attraction to him anyway? What if he just had a best friend?

[sulky-cabbage]

The sukugo fight can't get animated any sooner I'm craving sukugo tiktok edits

[imminent-danger-came]

You know I think my lmk ships are: skeletalspider (SQ x LBD), ivorylotus (Ne Zha x Yellowtusk), shadowpeach (you already know), and the samadhi dumpster fire (dragonfruit)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Mordecai probably lives in an apartment or something, but my first thought when you brought up the Caves on that post was that he won’t tell us because he’s been living in the Caves the Whole Time. Even tho he’d hate the slime mold.

yeah a Whole Damn House would be a bit much, and probably not as useful for the nightly bootlegging related goings on: see, freckle needing to stand around waiting for a ride before he can go shoot people. whereas mordecai can show up to the maribel hotel on foot, or at least have started out somewhere he could get a cab or whatever....and this is probably the closest to any relevant Living Situation Glimpses

someplace with a bed, and one with an art deco headboard....a modern style, so it's neither Antique nor unfancy enough to have less identifiable stylings at all. like just by guessing surely he lives in some apartment that's unassuming enough to live unassumingly in, with whatever alias, so something large & fancy would be unhelpful....plus if he's gonna be fairly rigorous in his domestic upkeep, it wouldn't really help to have a huge place, even if for the same reasons it wouldn't be too small (or old or otherwise unpleasant; hard no to slime mold, slime, or mold....) and like re: the rotating aliases, maybe he moves places fairly regularly for good measure, been at this like, a decade....tl;dr probably has some apartment/s that's roomy but not huge, nice but not Fancy fancy, at the nexus of practicality, resources, and preferences

but it's important to think about "what if mordecai's been living in the caves the whole time" b/c that's funny lmao

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

You are seriously my favorite blog right now. You opinions and meta for ikevamp are so spot on. You somehow are able to flush the characters more than the canon. I just wanted to say I appreciate all the time you put into your writings and I love everything you have written so far!!!!

In Comte and Leo we trust 🫡

Aww, thank you so much! 💛💛💛

Honestly I have no control over the brainworms, I feel like Ikevamp is so saturated with implications that extrapolating becomes so much natural fun for me. I started writing and analyzing (with no supervision to stop me, big mistake) and I'm still so fascinated with it. I can't believe it's been almost what...four years? Five years? Since I started playing the Japanese version where this all began. I'm frankly flattered a lot of people agree/like my takes, it makes sharing my work really rewarding in ways I never expected~

I don't always have time for more than Comte thirsting and silly quotes these days, but you're more than welcome to enjoy what I've curated here! I imagine I won't stop shitposting until the app is discontinued, and even then I'm not confident I'll shut up 🤣🤣🤣 Comte's the best baby girl I've ever known lmfao

o7 PUREBLOOD STAN OR BUST HELL YEAH!

[fearforthestorm]

oh my goddd I'm having Feelings over viking and tan rn. don't talk to me. theyyyyy.

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.