#Also having the audacity to laugh in my face about something that's threatening the field I've been working towards

[shanedoesdoodles]

I was having. A very lovely day. Had a few things planned to work on in the afternoon. Then my stepdad tried to push me on the topic of AI out of nowhere. After a bit I ended up chewing him out and he just laughed the entire time because of how angry and scared I was by the topic. I was having such a good fucking day why'd it have to get tainted like that.

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[pippytmi]

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

[script-nef]

An actual break | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

2.6k words; Beach date [4/6]

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

You haven’t been to the beach in months. So a car trip for hours, where you can blank out and peer out of the window to enjoy the wonderful and ever-changing scenery is amazing. Dipping your feet in the water or eating from food vendors or enjoying the warm summer sun on your skin. Perhaps getting a tan if the weather is perfect. This would all be perfectly enjoyable and possible.

If it wasn’t for work.

“[Surname]-san, why are you coming with us? You said you can’t fight.” Itadori calls from the backseat, nestled not-so-comfortably between Fushiguro and Kugisaki. 

Wouldn’t it be better if Kugisaki is in the middle since she’s the smallest and the skinniest? The thought drifts into your head but you soon understand why. As soon as the words leave his mouth it’s met with a firm and resounding slap on the arm. Itadori’s yelp of pain is silenced under her hiss of “God, you’re so tactless! Now move over, it’s getting cramped with all of the bags.” Ah, she didn’t want to sit in the middle. And what bags? I didn’t bring any.

They keep their banter up and a quick glance to both Gojou and Fushiguro indicates that they have no intention of stopping it. Gojou is actually humming through the bickering. Why do I have to be the adult? He’s like, 5 years older than me. That’s literally what he said as the reason to drive instead of you. 

“It’s fine, Kugisaki-san. I’m coming along because there’s been a lot of cursed spirit activity around here and I need to see if something abnormal is happening. I’m not going to get in the way of the fight so you don’t need to worry.” You send Itadori a smile through the back mirror which he responds with a quick nod, then a confused look.

“Isn’t that Gojou-sensei’s responsibilities?” The mentioned adult laughs and smoothly makes a right turn. You want to slap him.

“Normally, yes, but he insists on being insufferable.” You turn to face them, leaning onto the seat with a scowl. “The report he made was nearly illegible and last time something like this happened, and I had to sit down with him for 3 hours to complete it. Even then, he was going off topic half the time and trying to distract me. Itadori-kun, Kugisaki-san, listen to me. If he doesn’t do his work, you have to practically force him.”

“Doesn’t work.” Fushiguro comments while looking out the window. Gojou has the audacity to laugh again.

“We had a great time! You were laughing your head off by the time we were done.” A light tug on your shirt makes you sit back properly. The scowl stays in place.

“I missed dinner! And I missed the last episode of Haikyuu thanks to that!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll take it up by buying you dinner, okay?” He must be kidding if that makes up for missing your favourite anime. Kuroo came and went thanks to him. The car comes to an abrupt stop just as you’re about to complain again. “We have arrived!”

Salt wafts in the air as the sea twinkles underneath the afternoon sun. It’s hot today, and humid enough to make your clothes stick to your skin, which is gross. Sunny and warm means a swim will be ideal, but you have to take care of the whole recurring curses thing first. Previous reports have said that they were all mid-level, so hopefully Gojou’s students won’t have that much of a problem taking care of them. That also means they, including you as well, might have the opportunity to relax for the rest of the day. 

The actual spot is somewhere in the nearby forest, filled thick with trees and so large that even if someone went missing it would take ages to search. An ideal hunting place since a lot of people visit there. Numbers dropped quite a bit after the fifth person “went missing”. 

The first task is to cover the place with a curtain. Since the place is so large and not encompassing the entire place was deemed too risky, large amounts of cursed energy is required. Hence Gojou’s efforts right now.

“[Name]-san.” Kugisaki calls you. “Are you coming in with us?” Her voice is tentative, like she doesn’t want to offend you. It’s kind of funny because she shows more respect for you than her actual teacher for some reason. Gojou complained about it before. She doesn’t know the extent, or more accurately the lack of, your powers and has a right to be worried. All she knows is that you can’t fight. 

“Ah, I am coming in, but I’ll stay far away from the fight. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“And I’ll be right by her side!” Gojou snaps into thin air, linking his arm with yours.  “Your personal bodyguard! But I’m sure you guys can handle this one.” Still humming a tune, he sends them along their way with a reassuring smile. You smile at Kugisaki and wish her good luck. Shooting Gojou a suspicious glare, she runs ahead to the two boys and starts whispering. They look back at the two of you and get into what seems to be an argument. A bad thing to do right before a possibly life-threatening mission.

You watch the group disappear deeper into the woods, fear gripping at your heart. This is actually the first time in the field after years of being tucked away in an office. Ken-chan specifically requested it due to your unique cursed energy situation. Apparently that was the first time he asked for a favour to the principle and he never asked for anything again. They can handle themselves, you’re sure, but Itadori already had a close call.

“Worried?” Gojou, on the other hand, sounds like he has no concerns in the world. Maybe that’s a testament to how much he trusts his students. It doesn’t alleviate your agitation. “It’s fine, we can just take a break here and if trouble comes, they can take care of it themselves.” You stare at him incredulously. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll step in if something goes wrong. You’re all in safe hands.”

There is no one better than him in terms of fighting with cursed energy. How on earth someone like this gets imbued with endless power, you’ll never know. Sighing, you take a seat on a fallen log. The moss on them tickles your fingers. It feels nice, something to distract you from your brain being its usual bastard and thinking the worst case scenario. Gojou plops himself down right next to you. 

“We can go see them if you’re that worried, mother hen.” Nudging his leg shuts him up. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out for their cursed energy. Eight signals flicker from where they went, three blazing stronger than the others. One of them is nearly blinding. Sukuna is on a completely different level. If there’s that much of a difference in energy, they’ll finish soon and come back to have fun for the rest of the day. God knows they need it.

Your eyes flit open and come face to face with Gojou’s blindfold. It causes you to fall backwards and you brace for impact with a little yelp. But Gojou’s arm surrounds your abdomen, lifting you into the air and onto your feet. Heartbeats thud in your ears thanks to the sudden adrenaline boost.

“Did I scare you?” His laugh is cheeky. “I’m bored… Wanna play 20 questions?” As usual, his train of thought is impossible to even attempt to follow. A window of hundreds of tabs wrestling to be the first all the time is probably what the inside of his mind looks like.

“Sure, why not.”

Fushiguro, Itadori and Kugisaki all perk up when they receive the news of a day off to enjoy the beach. Since it’s closed off to the civilians, it’ll be like a private party. Something to keep their mind off of another mission that’s bound to come soon.

While they run off to the beach, you go to talk to the park rangers for the paperwork. Gojou asks if you want company but someone needs to supervise the children. The process takes barely 10 minutes anyway.

When you come back to the beach, the trio is screaming in the sea while trying to fight each other. Even Fushiguro is laughing. Childlike innocence is beautiful and long overdue. Two huge parasols and towels are laid out nearby where they’re playing. Gojou is out of his usual attire and in a swimming trunk. His blindfold is still on. Is this what was in the bags?

Now that you look more closely at the students, they’re all in swimwear as well. Looks like you’re the only one that didn’t get a memo. 

“Heya! Done?”  

“No thanks to you, Mr The-Whole-Reason-I’m-Here-In-The-First-Place.” He laughs at the nickname. 

“You should change.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Nobody told me and I was just thinking of dipping my feet.”

“Nobara brought you one. It’s in the bag labelled ‘If you look inside I’m going to kill you.’” Laughter comes out at the absurdity.

“Why did Kugisaki—”

“Because she wants you to relax. Now come on! Let’s have fun!” he pushes you excitedly towards the car. It’s really weird how someone your senior has more energy than you and his three students combined. Sighing, you trek back and find the bag. It really is labelled that, in caps. Kugisaki is a good kid. 

There’s a bathroom nearby for you to change in. The wind is still pretty strong when you walk out but you’re saved thanks to the school jacket. There’s also a pair of flip-flops. Ken-chan must have helped since they all fit perfectly. 

Itadori is being half-drowned when you come back. Fushiguro and Kugisaki are merciless when it comes to fighting. Gojou smiles as you walk into his line of sight. Scooting over to let you into the shade, he lies back onto the towel and stretches his legs out into the sun with a slight groan. You stay sitting up, watching the three children absentmindedly. 

Sunlight tickles your feet. The sea breeze stops it from being too hot but it’s slowly getting stuffier under the jacket. Quickly discarding it, Gojou catches your eyes while you fold it up.

It’s impossible to tell if he’s awake or sleeping thanks to his signature blindfold, but this is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in years; hands folded behind his head and muscles completely loose. Small scars dot his body, probably gained from fights which he deemed insignificant enough to bother Shouko with or heal himself. In a way, it’s a reminder for all the battles he’s survived. Pretty easily too, you’re guessing. There’s a deep one on his stomach and your hand moves towards it for some reason.

Long fingers intercept your hand just before it touches the scratched skin, entwining themselves to you. One end of Gojou’s lips quirks up. 

“I’m going to be embarrassed if you keep looking at my body, you know.” You immediately attempt to rip your hand back but he’s got you locked tight. He’s not even using Infinity. Heat threatens to explode your face because he’s been awake all this time and you’re going to die from shame. “If you wanted to touch me then you could have just asked.” Your fingers graze against the skin on his stomach for a split second but he loosens his grip and you will be damned if you don’t take that chance. 

Gojou cackles, enjoying your flustered state, and he’s halfway to suffocation because he’s laughing too much. His instincts still allow him to move out of the way for your punch. Doesn’t stop him from laughing though. Even his students, who were screaming and playing like they didn’t have a care in the world, are looking at the two of you. God, where’s a hole for me to die in right now?

Eventually, his laughter dies off. He’s still chuckling though. His teeth glint in the light as he gives you a wide smile. A sense of foreboding washes over you. 

“Up we go!”

“What?” Two arms hook under your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly into the air. Your body bounces in his arms every time he takes a step closer to the sea.

“Wait Gojou, wait wait wait wait!” 

“Gojou-sensei wai—” 

The water is freezing. 

“Gojou Satoru, I’m going to kill you!”

“That’s admirable! I’m sure you can do it!” Fushiguro snickers as you swipe an arm at Gojou, who moves away effortlessly again. Hair is plastered to your face and this rage is not going to subside unless you rip the blindfold off his smirking face and dunk his head into the water. But he keeps dodging you, just barely, as if to taunt you further.

Exhaustion sets in quickly since moving around in water is a lot harder and anger eats away at your stamina. Just as you’re about to give up, Gojou’s face is slapped with a wave of water. Everyone looks to Kugisaki. She has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Pfft.” Fushiguro’s laughter breaks the silence. Itadori snickers at Gojou’s drooping hair. Soon everyone’s laughing. Then Gojou whips water that hits all three of them straight in the chest with a resounding smack. They immediately retaliate with a wave that you get caught up in. 

It somehow turns into a students vs adults fight. Delighted laughter echoes in the air as everyone yells and shrieks when assaulted with icy water. There’s an unspoken rule to not use cursed energy, which is why your side is being pushed back. There’s no beating three excited kids when they’re on a holiday high. 

Backtracking a bit to get away from the constant surges of water, you don’t realise you’re going deeper and deeper into the sea. A rock shifts underneath your feet and you’re plunged into the cold grips of the sea, not even given enough time to call for help. Panic overtakes your senses as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. 

“[Name]!” Warmth engulfs you as Gojou lifts you out of the murky depth, worry and dread weaved into his voice. You blink rapidly as he gently brushes the hair off your face, and you see his eyes without the blindfolds for the first time. “Look at me, are you alright?”

They’re… indescribably beautiful. It’s the purest and translucent blue you’ve seen in your life, able to beat the colour of the ocean or the sky on its clearest days. It could compete with even the most exquisite sapphire locked up in a vault underground. And they’re clouded with concern and fear because of you.

“[Surname]-san!” Bringing yourself up by hugging Gojou’s neck, you see the trio wading through the water to you, dread clear on their faces. Itadori reaches you and rapidly asks if you’re fine and that he can’t possibly describe how sorry he is. It looks like he’ll dig his head into the ocean floor if you ask him to do it. Like he’s waiting for you to reprimand him.

But all that comes out is laughter, bright and childlike. They all look at you like you’re crazy. You have no idea why you’re laughing either. Maybe you’ve finally gone insane.

But being in Gojou’s arms, seeing his and Itadori’s face relax, brings you so much happiness. Tightening your arms around Gojou’s neck, you rest your head on top of his as he calms them down. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from nearly drowning, maybe it’s something else, but your heart thumps rapidly into your ribcage, probably loud enough for him to feel.

Next chapter →

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 39 - Christmas Break (5/?)

[ FM ]

“Taking back what’s… What the hell do you think you’re doing, Diana? I'm not an object to be owned like a fucking sweater!””

I wrap my hands around the wrists of her hands that are still cradling my head and push her back and away from me. My own hands are shaking badly and I can barely control my temper to not shove her away, my voice just as shaky as my hands and dangerously low.

She has the nerve to give me a confused look. “I don’t understand, Fox,” I cringe at the use of my first name, another testament to her never accepting my wishes and just doing whatever the hell she wants. “I thought you realized what a perfect family we are, you were so happy the past few days, I think you’re still in love with me and just too shy to admit it.” ‘What?! Whatever it is you’re taking, take less. Or more. What a load of crap!’

I step past her to pace the living room like a caged animal, running my hand through my hair not knowing what to say to that. Well, actually I have a lot to say about that, but I have to consider that I still have to co-parent with her for a long time, so as much as I want to tell her to go straight back to hell. I have to tread carefully, the field of our strained relationship is full of landmines.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that there’s more between us than co-parenting Felix, Diana. There is not and there never will be. Don’t you remember how we obviously don’t work? All the fights we’ve had over the years?”

Diana crosses her arms in front of her chest and gives me a hard stare. “If you weren’t so damn difficult all the time, we would still be together and Felix would have a real family, the poor child!” The anger that bubbles under the surface threatens to spill over at her statement, how dare she drag Felix into this.

“Oh no, don’t you dare put this on me! And stop bringing Felix into this, he’s not a pawn in your game, he’s just a child! Did you put him up to fixing us up again yesterday? Because if you did, I swear to God…”

“Don’t be an asshole and accuse me of doing something like that, I only have the best interest of our son in mind and he obviously also wants us to get back together. The only one standing in the way of his happiness is you, with your refusal to see what a good thing you’re missing out on.” I almost choke on my laugh and I’m getting frustrated at the direction this conversation is going.

Slowly, it dawns on me that I’m going to have to be a lot more direct with her to make her understand. If she’s even capable of such a thing.

“Listen, Diana. There once was something between us, yes, and I wouldn’t want to change any of it, because it was special and otherwise, we wouldn’t have had Felix. We’ll always be in each others lives because of him and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that, because his happiness is my number one priority and he needs his mother in his life. But what we had between us is in the past, I have moved on and I hope you can do the same, for Felix’s sake. You can’t jerk him around like that, giving him false hope that we’ll be a family again.”

There’s a long pause where she considers my words, I hope I have made myself crystal clear this time.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there? Did you find yourself a little plaything?” My mind flashes back to the events of the Christmas party and a surprising wave of calmness washes over me when I think about the someone else she’s unknowingly referring, the one who is nothing at all like the woman standing before me. But I’ll be damned to give Diana any more ammunition, she’ll blow up this fledgling relationship and walk away from the flames without a care in the world.

She takes my silence to mean that she’s right and her face transforms into an ugly scowl.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Fox? You have the audacity to lead me on the past few days when in reality, you’re fucking someone else??”

I’m saved from a retort and a further argument when I spot my mother standing in the doorway, silent as a sentinel and when she speaks, her voice is calm and quiet. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Diana.” My ex-wife turns to look at my mother stunned and I wonder how deep her pockets must be to hold all of her audacity.

“You’re kicking me out in the middle of the night, Teena? The mother of your own grandchild?” My mother just shakes her head and I have to admire her collected composure. I’ve never been so thankful to have her on my side.

“No. You’ll pack your things, say goodbye to your son in the morning and then you leave. You’re not welcome in this house anymore.” Without a word, Diana turns on her heel and slinks back upstairs.

My mom comes over to where I’m still standing rooted to the spot, a horrified expression on my face, and takes my hand to pull me over to the sofa. “Sit. Are you alright son?” I shake my head no. No I’m not alright, my ex-wife almost forced me into a reconciliation and I shudder at the recent memory.

She places a calming hand on my arm and gives me a sympathetic smile as if she can read my mind.

““I'm sorry, Fox. For what she did tonight. What are you going to tell Dana?” Guilt and fear rip through me at the mention of her name and I shrug helplessly, my face etched with misery.

“I don’t know, Mom…! I don’t know what to do now.”

“You tell her the truth, son! If you don’t, I’m sure Diana will find a way to use it to drive a wedge between you two.”

“I’m so scared she’ll up and leave before we get to start anything, this whole thing is so messed up, what if it’s too much for her, the way Diana always interferes with our lives?!”

“I can tell she’s important to you, so you owe her the truth. Your relationship should be built on a foundation of trust and not a lie. A lie of omission is still a lie, Fox!”

I hate it when Mom’s right, of course I need to tell Scully what happened, what she does with this information in the end is up to her, though. With one of her rare hugs, Mom sends me up to bed, making me feel like a little boy again. A pretty lost little boy.

I toss and turn in my bed, unable to turn off my reeling mind long enough to fall asleep when my phone buzzes on the nightstand with three new messages.

Typing in a quick reply, the guilt and dread I can’t seem to shake is churning my insides.

While I can’t wait to see her face again, not just hear her voice over the phone, I’m deadly afraid of the outcome of this particular conversation.

I can’t make up my mind if it’ll make her trust me more because I tell her the truth or if it’ll make her trust me less because Diana will always be a source of unpredictability in my life, ready to wreak havoc, no matter how many times I tell her not to.

For the longest time, I’ve yearned for someone to stand by my side, to give me some sense of stability in all the uncertainness that Diana brings into my life - a counterbalancing force, if you will.

Someone who’s warm and kind, someone who’s stable and has a strong set of values. Someone to take care of me for a change.

A partner I can depend on.

----------

[ DS ]

Christmas Eve was a flurry of egg-nog, relaxing in front of the fireplace once we wrangled the kids into their beds and gift-exchanging between the adults. Everyone has chipped in and they got me a new phone, them being sick of my battery always dying during our phone calls. I transfer everything over curled up on the couch and smile for the nth time at the latest pictures of Mulder and I on the pier. Missy sneaks up on me from behind, grabs my phone from me and gasps. “Wow, that’s a really great picture!”

“Shhh Missy, shut up!” I hiss at her and snatch my phone back, glaring at her.

“What? It is… ! Don’t worry, they didn’t listen, they’re too busy trying out Dad’s new telescope!”

We go to bed soon and I quickly text Mulder, clutching my phone to my chest, excited about our FaceTime date tomorrow night. I wasn’t lying, I really do miss his stupid handsome face.

On Christmas morning, Charlie sneaks into my room quietly to wake me up by yanking the covers off me and stuffing a handful of ice-cubes into my pajama top.

The way that rude awakening has me leaping out of bed with a scream sends him into a fit of cackles and the slipper I throw at him angrily misses his head by mere inches, which only makes him laugh harder. I wriggle to get the cubes out of my top, glaring over at him.

“I hate you so fucking much, you little shit!”

My stupid brother’s doubled over across the bed, holding his sides wheezing. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face, it was better than any Christmas gift I’ll get today!”

I’ve finally managed to get all the dripping pieces of ice out of my shirt and walk past him to the bathroom, giving his shoulder a hard shove.

“You’re lucky if you get a piece of coal in your stocking, for being naughty!”

“Santa already knows I’m the naughty one in the family.,” he calls after me and follows me to lean against the doorway to the bathroom while I brush my teeth.

“Speaking of naughty, Missy told me there’s been some naughtiness going on between you and that guy you’ve been pining over the past few months.” I roll my eyes at him in the bathroom mirror, mumbling around my toothbrush, apparently nothing stays a secret for long in this family.

“Yesh.” I rinse out my mouth, drying my hands on a towel slowly to torture him a little more.

“I’m hurt, sis, you’ve been chewing my ear off about him every Sunday, so naturally I’m very invested in this story, and I have to find out the best part from Melissa!”

“Serves you right for being an annoying little poopyhead!” I shove the door closed in his smirking face with my foot to change into a t-shirt and leggings.

“So? What happens next? I need more details than that!” His whiny voice comes through the door a little muffled.

“We’ll FaceTime later tonight, that’s about all the details I’ve got at the moment!” “Oooh maybe I’ll sneak into that call, I can’t wait to check him out!” Ripping open the door again, I point a warning finger into his face.

“Don’t you dare!”

My indignation makes him chuckle again and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“Okay okay… maybe I’ll do it some other time! The kids are dying to open their presents, we should really head down to put them out of their misery!”

————

[ FM ]

After the events of last night, I’m dreading to get out of bed on Christmas morning. I really hope Diana’s gone when I get up, I don’t have any niceties left to spare after what she tried to do last night. Hopefully, she at least said goodbye to Felix before she left.

There’s a tentative little knock on my door and Felix’s head appears around the corner.

“Good morning, Felix, come on in.” I can sense that there must be something terribly wrong, he doesn’t knock and he doesn’t sneak into my room quietly, he’s usually bursting through the door and pouncing onto my bed in a flash, often before I’ve had a chance to open my eyes.

Not so today.

Felix pads to the foot of the bed and just stands there, trembling, wide eyes brimming with tears and a voice so small it makes my heart ache.

“Mom’s gone. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

[zorkaya-moved]

❛  i  never  drink  alone .  it’s  sad  and  depressing .  ❜ shuusei to vicchan <3

@yeonban

It's been a while since they hung out together. Different schedules and different missions were assigned to two men as they've been waiting for the day when their schedules will finally align. Well, it can be said that two weeks was a long time, but for Victor it was longer than he wanted to admit. With how intimidating he seemed to others and how he was approaching missions, not many were willing to come close to him. A foreigner, tall, muscular, to some he looked far more threatening than even Kogami Shinya himself. It was a bit heartbreaking for the Russian, but he couldn't deny that this approach was also for the better of everyone else, including himself.

This is why he laughs when Shuusei comments on his drinking habits. The laughter is bright and honest, coming from his chest as he holds a glass with his sister's brandy. She left it here, so he welcomed himself to drink it on his own while reading and spending his time alone. How dare his best friend and newfound brother say something like this when he saw Sokolov was already drinking when he joined in? What audacity! Not that he cared, it was fun. Shuusei never disappointed and it warmed up the man's heart to finally have someone who could care less about statuses, nationality, and so on. A breath of fresh air, a fellow Sun finally appeared from behind the clouds of this mundane reality.

" You're an asshole, Shuusei, " the man shakes his head and sets his glass on the coffee table. The book he was reading is also placed on the table next to his glass. The bottle of brandy is closed as he didn't spend much time drinking, instead of being engrossed in the literature. Unlike his fellow Enforcer, he wasn't that aware of comics and simple literature, surprising being in far more complicated and deep reading. Like sister, like brother. " Are you calling my enjoyment of a fine drink sad and depressing? " It's all in good fun. The smirk on Kagari's face shows that it's a friendly banter that Sokolov is more than happy to join.

With another laugh, he leans back against the cushions on the couch. His room is filled with classics alongside the wood carvings he's taken as a hobby. He rarely has guests over in his place, Shuusei being the constant visitor aside from his older sister. It's strange, but it's far more practical than you'd expect. Some of the training equipment, a cabinet filled with books and notebooks, some things Zarina got him from the job, and some things he'd gotten from going outside of Tokyo thanks to his twin sibling as well. If not for her, he wouldn't have such a small yet diverse collection of trinkets to color his room and be able to get it for himself. He knows for sure Shuusei won't be interested in the literature, but maybe they could look at the souvenirs and pictures of the outside together.

" I bet your ass you'll get drunk off this brandy in less than two glasses, Shu. Do I really want to have your drunk ass in my room? " He shrugs, looking away from his friend. It's a taunt, a joke, a tease. He's not holding back his mischievous words. " Fuck no. Do you know how annoying you are when you're drunk? Oh man, I should've recorded it and sent it to Zarya, she would've had a field day. " Like a kid, the man sighs out loud, the exaggeration is obvious with how he moves the bottle away from the lion's reach. " I'd rather be a sad and depressing man than a babysitter. "

Victor isn't going to forget this line from his brother. Oh no, he is just as petty of a motherfucker as his sister. However, since it is Kagari himself, it won't be remembered for malicious intent or anything negative. It'll just remain an inside joke shared between two men.

" Well, lucky for us both, I have something that we'll both enjoy. You in? Save me from the miserable time drinking alone. "

[devilmeows]

14 for the first prompt list and/or 15 for the second?

im a simple person, i see and/or, i disregard the or and i do Both

14. "But I love you!"

15. A and B reminisce about the first time they met.

again not beta read because it's midnight, my beta reader is Busy and my brain is Melting

14. "But I love you!"

Today was the day: Astrid was finally going to see Off the Hook live. Well, she’d see them through a screen, because train tickets to Inkopolis were expensive as hell. She was supposed to watch the concert with Viv, but unfortunately the inkling had caught a nasty cold and Finn had to practically tape them to their bed and bribe them with an astronomical amount of snacks to get them to stay home and rest. Oh well, at least they’d still be able to watch the concert. And there would probably be more concerts for them to attend together. One day.

There was still about half an hour to go before she would be sent the link to the website that would host the concert, but Astrid was already fully ready, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her bottle of juice and a packet of instant noodles she’d prepare once she received that link. Because then she’d have exactly fifteen minutes to do so, and it was just enough for her to cook and immediately inhale her food. And then the concert would start. It would be so cool. Her tentacles, which were tied in a simple ponytail for once, couldn’t stop twitching with excitement.

“Astrid?”

The octoling took her eyes off her computer screen to look at her girlfriend. His head was poking out from behind the wall that separated the living room from the corridor that led to their room. He was smiling one of those smiles that preceded him asking for a favour, because he knew Astrid couldn’t resist it. And he was doing the thing where his freckles flashed just a little bit for even more cute points.

“Yes?”

“Your concert’s starting in half an hour, right?”

“Yeah, about half an hour. Why?”

He stepped into the living room as his smile widened, holding two consoles in his hands.

“Wanna play some Pokémon with me while you wait?”

Astrid blinked. She hadn’t played Pokémon in a while, but Robin had been playing a lot of it since she’d introduced him to it. She figured he would like it, and she was happy that she’d been right. Sometimes, the sounds of Pokémon battles were her background noise as she worked on something else. Whenever she looked up from her work, she’d see Robin looking either very focused or smiling at his 3DS, both of which made her feel warm inside.

“Sure, why not.”

Astrid patted the floor next to her as an invitation for him to sit down. The other octoling happily complied, plopping down beside her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. He handed her her 3DS, the silver one. She checked the cartridge slot at the back, and saw that her copy of Pokémon X was already in it.

“I was thinking of doing battles,” Robin said as she turned on her console. “I have a bunch of Pokémon I need to evolve first, but there’s a few teams I built that I’d like to try out! And also I just want to kick your ass.”

Astrid scoffed. “I’d like to see you try, my dear. My Pokémon are unbeatable.”

Robin smirked and hummed noncommittally. Astrid squinted at him, but he only smirked wider. I’ve been playing this game for longer than he has, she thought, and my pokémon are strong as hell. There’s no way I’ll lose. She was certain she could wipe that grin off his face in less than five minutes. She’d kiss him to make up for utterly defeating him. And then she’d kiss him some more, because he deserved it.

After making an Onix, a Feebas, a Haunter and a Pumpkaboo evolve, as well as accidentally trading the same Pidgey twice, they finally started setting up their battle. A simple 4v4 so that it wouldn’t take too long, any Pokémon, no banned items- Astrid did think that last rule was a little strange, but she didn’t protest. None of her Pokémon held any items anyway. The screen of her 3DS faded to black as she accepted Robin’s battle invitation, and as the Pokémon selection menu and both their teams appeared, she frowned.

“Alomomola, Houndoom, Mienshao, Cinccino, Bronzong and Cryogonal?” She thought out loud. “That’s...a team.”

“That’s my team!” He replied with a smile. He was sitting in front of her now, so that they wouldn’t be able to see each other’s screens. “I like it very much. I named the Mienshao after you!”

“Because I punch people in the face with my long arms?”

“That, and because you’re really pretty.”

Astrid’s lesbian brain froze. “How dare you.”

“Love you!” Robin blew her a kiss.

Finally, the battle started. Astrid led with Blaziken, while Robin led with Alomomola. Hm, a Water-type. That’s not good. That’s fine, I’ll take the risk anyway. She used Slash to gauge how much damage her Pokémon could land, and to her surprise, the move only took a little of the pink fish’s HP. Said pink fish then used Wish. Huh. Well, I’ll try something more powerful then. Before her Blaziken could use Sky Uppercut, Robin switched his Alomomola out for his Mienshao. Astrid almost felt bad as her alter ego took a good amount of damage....only to be immediately healed by Wish. Hm. Well, that was fine. Nothing to worry about. It’d be dead by next round.

...Except it did not die. Strangely, it seemed to take less damage than it had taken the round before. Astrid the Mienshao proceeded to use Swords Dance. Astrid the Octoling smirked. I’ve got you now! One more Sky Uppercut, and the enemy was almost in the red. Could’ve used Flare Blitz and killed it in one go, but oh well.

“Goodbye, me!”

The Mienshao used Aerial Ace. Her Blaziken instantly fainted.

“Yeah,” Robin said with a smile, “goodbye you!”

“How-” she shook her head. “It’s fine, I still have enough Pokémon to whoop your ass.”

Her girlfriend had the audacity to snort, so she sent out her Gengar. With one hit of Psychic, Astrid the Mienshao was gone.

“Aha! Take that.”

“Hm, okay, didn’t think you’d outspeed me, but okay!”

Robin sent out Houndoom. Astrid immediately retrieved her Ghost-type, letting Houndoom use Nasty Plot in the process. She squinted. Time for a quadruped fight I guess, she thought, sending out Luxray.

“What?”

“I am not sorry~” Robin sing-songed as his Houndoom took out her Luxray with a single Flamethrower.

She had no idea how that had just happened. The Dark-type even took some damage for some reason. “Okay, you know what?” Astrid sent out Gengar. “Fuck you!” She made it use Dazzling Gleam, which took half of the opposing Pokémon’s HP. But a second later, it was taken out by Dark Pulse. “How?”

Robin giggled, looking far too happy at Astrid’s distress. She was down to one Pokémon now, while the other octoling still had three. This wasn’t fair!

“It’s all up to you, big bird,” she muttered, sending out Honchkrow.

At the sight of the Flying-type, Robin gasped. He retrieved Houndoom, instead sending out...

“Oh and I was worried that I’d lose,” Astrid snorted as she watched a Cinccino appear on the field, “but you send a pile of fluff at me?”

Robin said nothing. His Normal-type’s HP dropped to the orange after Honchkrow’s Wing Attack, but that didn’t seem to alarm him. Instead, he just smirked as he tapped on the move his Pokémon was going to use. Astrid cracked her knuckles, ready to watch Night Slash obliterate the fluffy chinchilla- except said fluffy chinchilla somehow attacked first. It used Rock Blast. It was super effective, but it was fine, it hadn’t done a significant amount of damage. Maybe the deities of random would smile down on her and let the move only hit twice.

Except the deities of random had nothing to do with this. Rock Blast hit twice. Three times. Four times...

“What the fuck,” Astrid whispered, eyes widening as her pokémon’s HP started getting dangerously low, “What the FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK!”

Robin didn’t say anything, because he simply could not stop his laughter. He only laughed harder as his girlfriend threw him a shocked and outraged glare when her Honchkrow fainted after the fifth Rock Blast hit.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT WITH A CINCCINO???”

The other octoling was now laughing so hard he was practically crying. Astrid’s tentacles twitched so much they were threatening to snap her scrunchie.

“Skill Link-” he took a deep breath, “Skill Link is a wonderful thing, my dear.”

“You- I- I- What-” Her stammering threw Robin into another laughing fit. Oh, her pride was wounded, injured, deceased on the floor. She must’ve looked hilariously crestfallen, because he laughed harder every time he looked at her. She threw her hands up in the air, then lightly pushed him. “How dare you do this to me! Go away!”

“But I love you!” He protested, wiping his tears dramatically and making his freckles flash at the word love.

“I don’t!” She joked, pointing towards the kitchen. “Go away!”

Robin was still chuckling as he stood up, blowing her one last kiss before he disappeared behind the kitchen wall. Astrid sat there, pouting, staring at her 3DS that still showed the Cinccino’s smug little bastard face. How dare. How dare he be better than her at Pokémon while he’d only started playing the games hardly a month ago. It was impressive though, how he’d managed to do it. The Pokémon he’d used weren’t the most popular and you didn’t usually see them in people’s top 10 favourites. Maybe there was a reason why he had picked those Pokémon in particular? She remembered how Houndoom had taken some damage with every move it had used, and something clicked in her brain. Wait, isn’t there a whole section of players who play strat? Is that what he did? She’d never bothered to go into that, simply because she had no patience for all the grinding it took to get a perfect Pokémon: she was good with spamming Flare Blitz until it knocked something out.

Her computer’s ding made her jump, and suddenly she remembered what she’d been waiting for and all the adrenaline rushed back into her body. There it was: the concert link! Her phone buzzed with a few texts, probably from an equally as excited Viv. Before she read those though, she needed to make her food. She clicked on the link and reached for her noodles as the page loaded...only to be met with thin air.

“Peace offering?” Robin had returned, smiling, with a steaming bowl of instant noodles in one hand and a can of soda and a pack of cookies in the other.

You’re too good to me. Astrid pretended to still be annoyed for a second before she made grabby hands at the food.

“Offering accepted!”

The purple octoling’s tentacles twitched happily, and he once again sat down by his girlfriend’s side, carefully setting down the bowl so that it wouldn’t spill. When he put down the soda and cookies, Astrid shuffled closer to him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the chopsticks lying on top of the cookies, “but you didn’t have to do this, I still have fifteen minutes before the concert.”

“But I wanted to do this for you,” Robin replied with a purr. “Also, sunshine, I love you, but you’re way too excited to be allowed in the kitchen. You’d burn everything down.”

She slurped her noodles very loudly. ...Can’t argue with that.

“Can you explain how you did that, like, after the concert?” Astrid asked, pointing at her 3DS.

Robin smiled, and his freckles glowed happily. “Of course I can.”

He leaned against his girlfriend’s shoulder. Both of them purred.

15. A and B reminisce about the first time they met

Reef's heels clicked against the hard floor as she furiously stomped towards her office. Several octolings hurriedly stepped out of her way as they saw her- as they fucking should. She was in no mood to deal with any of their bullshit today, and if anyone got too close she would not be held responsible for how her tentacles would react. They were already having an absurdly hard time not busting out of her kelp's grasp. When she finally reached her office, she kicked the door open and slammed it shut behind her, effectively making the walls around her tremble. She stood there for a moment, looking around for something to smash against the ground with her entire strength, anything she could tear apart to channel her rage, but there was nothing that could be spared in her office today.

Absolutely fucking peachy.

Instead, she settled for a frustrated roar and went to sit down on top of her desk. She brought her hands up to her hair, and her impatient tentacles almost slapped her arms as she untied the strings of kelp. Once that was done, she buried her face in her hands while her hair writhed wildly.

Reef had received a report on more deserters today. Four of them had died - good fucking riddance -, two of them had been captured - she'd pay them a visit later - and only one of them had made it to the surface alive.

And of course, that had to be fucking Oleander.

Out of all the octolings that had managed to make it out alive, it just had to be her, because the world hated Reef apparently. It had to be her ex, the woman who had had the nerve to break up with her simply because she thought that maybe the inklings weren’t that bad and life on the surface could be nice.

(And also because she didn’t like how Reef treated everyone around her, but Reef didn’t see what the problem with that was, so she’d dismissed that thought entirely.)

She wished she could’ve been there. She wished she could’ve been the one to catch these traitors in the act. She wouldn’t have killed them, no: death was much too kind a fate for the likes of them. There was another place, far deeper underground than the most distant domes, that was perfectly suited for traitorous octolings. A place where the sunlight they chased after would never reach them.

Had she been there, that was where Reef would’ve sent Oleander.

She tried to picture it: her claws gripping the scientist’s shirt, holding her at arm’s length above a gaping, dark hole as she tried to escape her grasp- but she flinched as she tried to have a look at her face.

Reef let out a low growl.

Reef had no friends. Reef didn’t need friends: she had been created for one purpose, and one purpose only, and she was going to make sure she’d be up for it. Friends would only slow her down. The mere concept of friends hardly existed in the domes, anyway: you either had siblings or sparring partners, and that was it. There was no time for friendship when you were fighting a war.

But for some reason, Reef wanted to be friends with that octoling.

Her hair was what first caught her eye: in the midst of all the vivid colours, her lavender really stood out. A pretty colour for a pretty octoling. Reef saw her once on her way to training, and then no sign of her for a solid month. But she sure was on her mind. Moderately tall, dark green eyes, a neutral, almost bored expression...Probably a scientist, judging from the long white coat she’d been wearing.

At first, Reef didn’t exactly like how much she thought about that octoling. It made her feel things. And she wasn’t a fan of feeling things.

She saw her again during training. Reef had just successfully beaten an elite soldier to a pulp, and she’d been so busy gloating about her victory to the other soldiers watching that she almost tripped over the pretty octoling she’d been thinking about nonstop for an entire month as she inspected the defeated soldier’s wounds. Dark green eyes met ice blue, and Reef smirked to hide her embarrassment. Always an excellent go-to reaction to have. Smile, your big fang freaks them out and makes you look scary. And for some reason, the scientist mirrored her smirk.

“Impressive,” she commented. “I am no expert on fighting, but even I can tell that you are quite skilled.”

Reef felt her hearts miss several beats. “Why, thank you,” she replied, having no idea how she managed to keep herself from stuttering. “But that was nothing. You should’ve seen the time I fought three whole soldiers on my own and won.”

She flexed her precious muscles in a way that she hoped looked cool and somewhat natural. And somehow, that worked: the scientist’s gaze flicked to her toned arms, and stayed there for a long moment. Reef felt like she might explode right under the octoling’s eyes as she then glanced at her exposed abs. Ah, yes, she was quite proud of those too.

Someone behind them shouted something that Reef didn’t quite catch. Immediately, she turned around, tentacles flaring and coiling like a snake about to strike as she aimed her octoshot at the crowd.

“What was that?”

Silence. The assembled octolings all looked away, looking either embarrassed or scared. Good.

“Thought so.”

She clipped her gun to her belt, then turned back to the scientist, who was now looking at her with a new, admirative shine in her dark green eyes. The two octolings smiled at each other.

“I’m Reef,” she said, holding one hand out while the other rested on her hip. “Reef Moltentide. DJ Octavio’s future second-in-command, as soon as he gets tired of his current one.”

“Oleander Rivea,” the lavender octoling replied, shaking Reef’s hand. Her skin was so much softer than her own calloused hands. “I am simply a scientist...for now.”

Ambitious. I like that. Her smirk only grew wider.

They saw each other regularly after that event. Sometimes, they simply waved at each other when they had no time to speak, and sometimes they talked and talked and talked, until Reef could practically hear her voice in the silence as well as recall every detail of Oleander’s face once they parted ways. Their feelings quickly evolved into something that went way past simple friendship, but as it turned out, Oleander liked to make it a little difficult for Reef. She could tell by the amused glint in her dark green eyes as she subtly flirted with her in front of Reef’s superior officers, and how she stared at her through lidded eyes just a moment too long as they tested their newest model of googles. Those were moments where it was impossible for the elite soldier to flirt back, or else she would lose her position, or worse. She loved it, though: it always left her wanting more. She wanted so badly to hold Oleander’s waist and pull her closer, so close that she would be able to see every single detail in her irises, so close that she would feel her heartbeats under her skin. Every time she thought about the pretty octoling, Reef realised how much she wanted to kiss Oleander.

And her wish was granted on the night that they were both promoted: Oleander as dome 1’s head scientist, and Reef as Octavio’s second-in-command. After the mandatory celebrations and hours of being congratulated by every meaningless octoling in existence, Oleander had pulled Reef away and into her room, and they’d hardly waited a moment after the door was closed before they kissed. It was just as intense and felt just as amazing as Reef thought it would be. She held her face between her hands, tilting her head whenever she wanted to deepen the kiss, while the lavender octoling slowly ran her hands through the elite’s black and red tentacles. Occasionally, she would pull at them to interrupt their kissing and simply see Reef’s playfully irritated frown. She was the only one who could poke fun at her without consequences, and she knew it.

They didn’t sleep much that night.

That memory was followed by cold, cold dark green eyes, staring at her for one last time before storming out the door. And as her anger and frustration rose once again, another nasty, nasty feeling wormed its way into the mix: sadness.

She still loved Oleander, and she fucking hated it.

“Fuck off!” Reef barked as someone knocked on her door. With Oleander gone, there was only one person who she couldn’t be rude to, and Octavio did not knock: he simply came in uninvited. Therefore, she was perfectly allowed to tell whoever was behind that door to fuck off. Besides, everyone knew that, if they valued their life, they stayed away from her when she told them to.

Apparently, this octopus didn’t particularly care about their life, since they let themself in anyway. Reef’s gaze snapped up to meet the other octoling’s eyes. Of fucking course it’s the Callisto sister. She didn’t know her name, but she didn’t need to know that to remember how much of a pain in the ass that octopus was. She had always defended her worthless sister before they escaped with Ida, and since then she’d been particularly keen on annoying the hell out of Reef whenever she could.

(She remembered with a pang of anger that her other sister had been Oleander’s student.)

“I said,” Reef enunciated in a dangerously low voice, “fuck off, Callisto.”

Callisto said nothing. She simply stared at Reef, her gaze even and pink and blue tentacles staying perfectly still as opposed to her superior’s, which were vibrating with fury. There wasn’t a trace of fear in her eyes or posture, and Reef hated that.

“I have orders from DJ Octavio himself,” she eventually said. “He wants to see you in his throne room.”

Just what I needed, the commander snarled to herself, clenching her fists. Out of all the people he could’ve chosen to deliver this damn message, he picked the one I want dead the most. Sometimes she wondered if Octavio was as smart as he pretended to be. She took a deep breath and stood up from her chair.

“You’ve done your job,” Reef growled, “now leave.”

“I have one more thing to do before I leave,” she pulled out a file from the bag that Reef only now noticed that she had. “Oleander Rivea’s personal journal. I thought you might want to...peruse it.”

The insolent octopus had the nerve to smirk.

Before Callisto had the time to react, Reef gripped her face with one hand, placing her sharp claws at the junction between her head and her neck. The octoling’s smug expression vanished instantly, and was finally replaced by fear. With some anger too, because this was Callisto, and she hated Reef as much as Reef hated her.

“You are on thin fucking ice, Callisto,” she hissed. Her writhing tentacles cast a shadow on the shorter octoling, and she pierced her skin as she tried to wriggle out of her grasp. Dark blue blood started trickling along her neck. Reef smiled.

She would’ve stayed and punished Callisto some more, but Octavio was waiting for her, and she wasn’t in the mood to put up with the King lecturing her, so instead she tossed the soldier to the ground like a rag doll. She immediately brought her hands up to her neck, hissing in pain.

“Now get out of my sight.”

[silverkoushi]

haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! pt.2 | read pt. 1 here! ⇢ feat. : tsukki (karasuno), bokuto (fukurodani) & kuroo (nekoma) x gn!reader ⇢  wc & warnings:  3.3k, slightly suggestive for kuroo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ not @ me having the phattest crush on kuroo as you can probably tell here... dear god that man is something edit: omo for some reason the paragraphs got messed up n i just checked it after hours of posting... i fixed it now so hopefully it makes more sense ahh my apologies!! ><

tsukishima kei

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  idk about you but i think tsukki secretly enjoys the holidays? like he’d think the music is overbearing, the movies are disgustingly cliche, and the amount of people gathering in places is one of his worst nightmares— those aren’t the things that he looks forward to. i think tsukki loves winter, maybe because i see him as a softie who collects sweaters, hoodies, and sweatpants that keep him comfy and cozy during cold nights and chilly mornings! WITH THAT BEING SAID, tsukki dies inside when he sees you wearing any of those following outfits of his. he might get annoyed at first that you don’t ask because he was planning on wearing them that day, but when you show up at his dorm clad in his night blue sweater with a little moon stitched on the side, there are no words coming out of his mouth. he will try to look menacing, eyes in a deadpan expression but you know he’s lying, and just stare at him with a doe-like face and put his hands in yours, swinging it back and forth as you drag him out of his room and into the snowy field. you don’t even think twice about getting matching sweaters because the boy will hate you for the rest of his life, but at least you got him to wear a reindeer headband for 2 seconds in the photobooth!! most of the time, you basically just bring him to anywhere you want to go. you guys look at the humongous christmas tree they placed in the center of the plaza, and you ask someone walking by if you can get a picture of the two of you in front of him. this way, tsukki can’t complain and will be semi-forced to pose with you hehe. you thought he’d just be standing there, arms to his side with a nonchalant expression but you actually feel him put his arm around your waist and lean his head down on top of yours. 

you can’t help the cheeky smile show on your face as you tiptoe just enough to reach his cheek, and once the guy said, “ok one more!” you steal a kiss on the side of tsukki’s small smile. “hey, what was—” “thanks, mister!! happy holidays!!” you avoid his stare, and get your phone back from the guy as you scroll through the pics he took (thank god only a few were blurry). tsukki keeps glaring at you, and you understand he’s not big into pda but uh, he started it with holding you close to him like that >:( “what?? you look so cute here, though!!” you whine to him, hoping he doesn’t ask that you delete it :( tsukki gives it a once over, a warm feeling creeping on his cheeks as he studies the picture: damn, is he whipped for you. he dismisses the overreaction on his part (for once), and takes your hand in his once more, asking where it is you wanted to go next. you’re surprised he left it like that, but you’re taking advantage of this situation and drag him to more festive stuff around the plaza <3

with your parents spending the holidays abroad and working overtime, tsukki’s mom invited you to their place instead and you’re!! more than happy and oh so grateful!! tsukki doesn’t show it but he’s actually extremely nervous,, what if you don’t like his family?? what if his brother is too annoying for you, what if this isn’t the kind of in-laws you were expecting— wait, he’s thinking too far ahead and you’re looking at him with raised eyebrows. quick! he turns away from your gaze, biting his lip at getting caught with his overthinking. “tsukki, you okay?” you ask gently, looping your arm around his as you guys near his house. “yeah…” he responds lamely, and you’re not sure if he wanted you at his house for the holidays or what… but you shake the negativity away and tell yourself that this is an opportunity to show your own personality to his family!! you’re greeted by a boisterous even taller guy at the door, and his also really tall mom waving at you from the kitchen, finishing up the grand dinner. “mom and i thought you were just pretending about your relationship, tsukki~” akiteru nudges him, and you chuckle at your boyfriend’s helpless look on his face, as if telling you this is what i dealt with during my childhood. but the holiday celebration with his family went super smooth!! his mom cooked amazing homemade dishes, and tsukki was actually smiling and laughing along the poor jokes akiteru made, it was so endearing to watch. you asked to help with the clean up as tsukki and his brother play volleyball outside in the cold. 

“i’m so glad he has you,” his mom comforts you, and you nod your head in thanks while you wipe the plates clean. “i’ve never seen him so… cheerful like this, you know?” what a heartwarming thing to say :(( and yet you thought he was just finally letting loose because he’s at home!! his mom turns in early that eve of christmas, and his brother goes out to have a nightly beer sesh with his hometown friends before christmas morning tomorrow. you and tsukki are left alone in his room as you marvel at the many dinosaur related merch, posters, and even stuffies he has in his childhood room!! “don’t say it,” he threatens you lightly, even though you’ve been well-aware of his fascination for the species. a little tired from the trip earlier and ngl you’re both full from the food, you lay down on the floor, pillows supporting your sleepy heads as tsukki shares the other side of his earphones. you listen to calming, lofi music for the night and at some point, he finds your fingers in his again. “thank you for having me, tsukki,” you whisper with a yawn, remembering the night days ago where you cried into his shoulder about missing your own family during this season. tsukki doesn’t respond as he hears your light snoring, and instead turns his body towards you as he caresses the side of your face, smiling at the beauty before him. “you’re always welcome here, dummy. you’ll always have me.”

bokuto koutarou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  oof!! so many holiday parties!! gift giving exchanges!! dancing and singing, drinking and having the time of your lives! of course, bokuto asks first and foremost if you’re okay going to all of these celebrations with him as he has gathered a lot of friends from different majors, clubs, and such. you didn’t expect to come with him to all of them, tbh, but since he seems so excited to bring you along you found yourself nodding along! OOPS, what a wild ride it was to meet friends you didn’t even know he had. first, bokuto asked you to help him find some gifts for the exchange parties and you comply— you love thinking up presents for diff kinds of people! “would akaashi want this?” he points at a set of compression socks for sports “you’d want that more, bo” “oh oh!! how about this for kuroo?!” he leads you to the beauty section, hairspray littering the aisle “i think that’s more of an insult than a gift…” he’ll pout at his failure to think of the best gifts for his friends, but you cling to him with your linked arms and tell him not to worry— you kinda figured the kind of people his best friends are, so you suggest things off the bat: film roll for akaashi the photography minor, a mug with a pun-ny chem joke for kuroo, and a new case for kenma’s switch lite!! “wah! you know them better than i do,” he exclaims, eyes shining in excitement as you bring the gifts and other extra stuff to his apartment to help him wrap them. with this, bokuto came up with an idea to wrap the presents in the most creative way possible, and you just stare at him in awe as he tries to disguise the mug as.. a gingerbread man?? you don’t even know how he did it! as you tape up the finishing touches with the others, you eye a small gift wrapped box on the island counter along with a card next to it, all glittery and a name scribbled on top that you can’t make out where you were seated. 

“hey, bo, who’s that for?” you point at the suspecting box, and almost immediately bokuto body slams you on the ground, obstructing your view of the gift. “bokuto i can’t breathe—” you wheeze, laughing at the way he scrambles to get up from the position but his feet slips against the unused wrapping paper on the floor. “sorry, sorry i just— STOP LOOKING” he pleads, caging you with his arms either side your figure. the both of you pause, realizing the predicament you’re in until bokuto unleashes a sly smirk, eyes pointed at you with a mischievous glint. you know that look, so you start wiggling out of his way until he plops down on you again (mind you, he’s MANY inches taller than you and his built...whew, but that’s part of the problem right now!!) and blows raspberries on your neck, the audacity!! “tell me,” he whispers against your ear after a while, voice suddenly low in tone and your senses perk up. “have you been naughty or nice recently?” he continues hoarsely, and it doesn’t take long until you burst out laughing at his attempt of being flirty right now. he finally releases you, feigns hurt from your reaction but he knows what a goofball he is.

anyway, you put all the gifts in the car and head to the many parties he was invited to!! and honestly, you enjoyed yourself albeit it got really tiring to show up with much enthusiasm compared to the last. but bokuto on the other hand never runs out of energy for some reason!! he’s still winning the games, singing his heart out with his friends, and trying all the foods in the potluck, even shamelessly!! feeding you too! it’s embarrassing >< but in a way your heart swells with the thought of bokuto being very openly proud of his relationship with you, and how his friends seem to like you as well! pictures were taken, holiday spirits and gifts were exchanged and finally, he’s free for the night <3 you’ve been waiting for the right moment to give him your personal gift to your boyf (it’s an edited picture of the two of you at one of his winning games!! you can’t draw for sht but you are the best at adding lil stickers and cute petnames all around the photo hehe) you had it inserted in a picture frame too so the gift was relatively medium sized and rectangular. when you crash at his place, you ready yourself to give it to him, having second thoughts with how corny it must seem like… as you psych yourself up on the couch, you feel his arms suddenly wrap themselves around you as he starts peppering your neck with lazy kisses. your chest tightens, eyes closed at the warmth of his lips on your skin but— you can’t get distracted!! “bo, i have something for you—” “i saved the best gift for last—” o, you say it at the same time and so you look at each other with blank stares, and then laugh at your awkwardness!! 

he lets you go first, your nerves slowly dissipating at the excited gleam in his irises, he’s so cute!! as he unwraps it, he hitches a breath, looks at you then the picture and you again and— let’s say your face was just full on bokuto territory only ;-) as much as you were enjoying his attention all on you, his gift wasn’t opened yet!! bokuto went from confident to shy mode again, hiding his face with only one eye peeking out to watch you…. for some reason, since it was a tiny box you blurted out, “don’t tell me it’s a ring, bo.” as a joke but bokuto suddenly freezes at your words. and you had to stop unboxing to make sure he doesn’t go all pale on you, but also??? was he really???? GOING TO???-- “DID YOU WANT ME TO GET YOU A RING?? I CAN RETURN THE EARRINGS TODAY, I THINK I STILL HAVE THE RECEIPT—” “bo, it’s okay!!! omg no T_T” you take his hands off his face to look at him lovingly, a kiss on his pouty lips as you reassure him his presence is all that you can ever want, but whatever it was he gave you, you’ll cherish just the same!! so finally, once you take the lid off the box you see an adorable pair of owl earrings!! it’s so cute and it reminds you of him and thats probably why he got that for you :’)))) “i also wrote you a letter but please read it when i’m asleep or something…” aww shy bokuto!! >< you never thought you’d see the day :’)

kuroo tetsurou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  man.. i just know this guy wouldn’t want to let leave… the bed… with him… on christmas day. imagine something like having to stay until he can for his duties at work which ended up til late christmas eve :( you were looking forward to spending time with him back at his hometown since you don’t necessarily celebrate the specific holiday, but being with tetsurou for almost a year now and knowing he does— you wanted it to be special and memorable for him! he felt really bad making you stay at his apartment until he finishes up work, really zooming through all the documents and stuff he needed to complete just so he can spend at least a few hours of christmas eve with you. when he got home, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you falling asleep on the couch, right next to the lit up christmas tree you two decorated a week ago (thats how busy he has been! you opted to fix the tree yourself, but tetsu insisted on doing it together since it’s your first holiday with him!). your favorite blanket was wrapped around you but your feet were dangling midway with no socks on and he just >:( had to carry you to bed and tuck you in— all of you!! 

he changes to a sweater and pjs before readying himself to carry you against his chest. his own body is exhausted from working non-stop, but he doesn’t let it get to him as he passes by the hallway and plops you gently on your side of the bed. you stir groggily, eyes refusing to open but you notice your surroundings are different. the room is dimly lit but the figure walking around the place isn’t amiss; with his hair sticking up and his wide shoulders, you know it’s your tired boyfriend finally home for the holidays. you smile, still sleep-induced but you try to reach over for him. “tetsu… come to bed, please,” you mumble but he hears you, and his back is against you but he smiles at your half-awake tone. “i’ll be right there,” he lets you know softly, and true to his word you feel the dip in the mattress with his warmth slowly exuding onto your own body, his hands easily finding themselves over you. you wiggle into his grasp, head against his chest and hands holding onto his waist. he feels warm, he feels like home, and you press a kiss where his neck meets his collarbones. “mm, merry christm…” you mutter, losing consciousness but he doesn’t mind. he lets you snore your way into dreamland, watching your eyelashes tickle the surface of your skin, lips partly open as you breathe in and out. suddenly, his tense muscles relax with your presence oh so close to you, and he sleeps soundly after a few minutes of admiring your face.

as the sunlight filters thru the windows, kuroo wakes up first but knowing it’s his day off (finally), he relaxes into the bed and just observes the tiny details of your face, same as the night before but with some of the brightly shining rays of the sun hitting the right spots— you’re breathtaking to him. he feels you stir in his embrace so he pretends to snore because he knows you like to get up as soon as you feel awake. “tetsu…” you mumble, popping out your head from his grasp to peer your eyes at him pretending to not hear you. “you’re a lousy liar, i know you’re up,” you tell him, rubbing your nose against him as a form of an eskimo kiss. it takes so much out of his restraint to bite his lip in pure love for you, so he gives in and kisses you on the lips. 

you are taken aback for a split second until you comply to his request, and you spend your first christmas morning with him in bed just like that <3 he still asks if you guys can spend the whole day just tangled into each other’s embrace but you lecture him playfully, knowing that he had a christmas party to attend to in the afternoon with his closest friends (bokuto, akaashi, kenma, and others) and you have a lovely dinner planned in the evening. he wiggles his eyebrows, fingertips tracing the exposed skin on your chest, “what if we skip all of that and i just have you for dinner instead?” “KUROO TETSUROU IT IS TOO EARLY FOR YOU TO SAY THAT RIGHT NOW—” you swear to god, it is his teasing and malicious intent that will kill you one day. but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, and yet kuroo complies with your light nagging, getting up and getting ready for the day. you’re happy that he finally has the day off, and being with his friends during the party truly lightened up his mood. afterwards, he then asks where you got a reservation during the busiest time of the year, and you just winked at him and zipped your mouth. 

since you ate a bit at the party, you knew you had some time to finish prepping the food you had prepared the night before, it all just needed to bake or be cooked on the pan. and bec of his exhaustion last night, he didn’t even open the fridge at all so there were zero suspicious at your surprise dinner. urging him to take a long, hot bath, he drags you with him. “you seriously want me to take a bath by myself?” he says in shock horror, and normally you would join him hah but you tell him that your parents are calling, just wanting to say hello. a little sad, kuroo nods in understanding and so he goes about his way while you cook the food with haste. he likes to take his time in there but you know you won’t finish beforehand, so once he’s out of the bathroom, you immediately go right in front of him to hide the view of the kitchen. you played yourself, seeing kuroo only in his bathrobe with his chest exposed, you slap him right at the center to ignore the sensation in the pit of your stomach. “what?? what’d i do???” “existing right in front of me like that!!” kuroo laughs at your embarrassment, but kisses you on the forehead nonetheless. he ignores the obvious smell of pasta and chicken in the apartment, ignores the messy apron you forgot to take off because he thinks you really wanted to surprise him. so he goes to the room to change, thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his life. the rest of the night ends up with the both of you having a romantic dinner in the dining room, talking about everything you already know about each other—but it never feels repetitive. he always feels so renewed with you, falling in love every day. 

[devildomz]

gamestop AU anon submitted:

GameStop Au

Ong if this doesn’t work I’m beating ass

Sorry it’s a little ooc but most of it was written at 12 am-3 am kdjfdjhgudbu

ALSO, this is only chapter one. I have plans, BIG PLANS. Also why it’s only 2.1k words. I don’t know if it’s accurate to source but eh, I’m taking creative liberty. Ily, and enjoy :)

i am FULLY cracking

________________

“Are you done yet?”

Abel grinned, eyes glinting mischievously. He looked up at the purple haired employee that’s been the bane of his existence for…two days. Ever since the first night he tried to get into the store. But two days is enough for Abel to know he wants him dead. Well, only after making his life a living hell.

“I’m just browsing through the store,” He said smugly, gesturing towards the games he purposely mixed around. “I haven’t found the right one yet. Do you recommend anything?” Abel knew damn well why he was here, but he couldn’t resist being the annoying customer just to mess with the employee. Levi stared at Abel for a few moments, arms crossed in annoyance. He blinked once, twice, before huffing.

“There’s a game called Ru-“

“Boring,” Abel interjected.

“Then maybe The Sev-“

“God no,” Abel leaned down to look at the games on the second shelf. “Your customer service here is horrible.” Levi’s jaw clenched, before he grinned with extreme agony.

“Then I’ll find someone else to help you inste-“

“No need, I want your help,” Abel said, staring Levi down. Their eyes met, one with ferocity and one with purely evil intent.

________________

Levi hated this guy.

No, hated is not strong enough, despised and…despised. He’ll have to look up synonyms for hated later, because he was fuming. FUMING. Who does this stupid normie think he is? Stupid, short, infuriating, little bastar-

“Hellooo,” And it was talking. Yes, it, because this… child, will NOT register in Levi’s mind as someone who can be recognized as anything more than an it. Was that disrespectful to that dumbass? GOOD. Levi will bask in that forev-

“Are you ignoring me now?” Abel tilted his head in false innocence, brows furrowed and a mocking smile on his face. And with this, Levi’s had enough. He was never polite before, so fuck it now.

“No, of course not kiddo,” he smiled, “I can always show you the games for kids, I’m sure they’re more age appropriate for a small boy like you.” He reached up to pat Abel’s hair like you would a cute, little puppy. Abel gaped, looking like a fish. And it almost made Levi pity him. Almost.

“I hope you choke,” Abel growled.

“Your feelings are reciprocated,” Levi sneered, “by a tenfold.”

________________

“Can you BELIEVE the audacity of that guy?” Abel laughed incredulously, hands waving around in the air to add to his rant. “I hate him! Every inch of me hates that asshole.” Solomon sipped his coffee calmly, humming in mild support of Abel’s anger.

“His name is Levi, and he’s always been nice to me,” He offered, shrugging. “We’re both fans of the same series and games, and he makes good theories.” Abel stared at Solomon, teeth clenched. He took a long, shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut.

“We,” Abel’s voice cracked in loathing, “do NOT like him anymore. You’re my friend, therefore if I don’t like someone, you don’t like them either.” Abel said with finality, and Solomon gave him a look. The kind a parent would give their 13 year old who’s raving about their crush that they deny liking. He takes a moment to go over all he’s done in life, wondering who decided to put him in the middle of an enemies to friends to lovers fanfiction.

“And guess what? He treated me like a child because he’s taller than me! I’m not even that short, I’m average! Average! How could a stupid idiot like that look down on me? Huh? His eye bags are darker than his heart!”

“Abel,”

“And Solomon, believe me when I tell you his heart is dark, it’s probably all dark, and twisty, and ruined. Because I’m sure he stomps out people’s dreams in his free time!”

“Abel,”

“I can’t believe he would have the audacity to even call me kiddo! Like I’m some dumb kid, sure I’m not the smartest person in the world but I do deserve some respect, y’know?”

“ABEL,” Solomon interrupted firmly before he sighed, setting his coffee down on the saucer. Abel shut his mouth quickly, looking a little guilty. “Didn’t you go there originally to buy a gift for Diavolo? If so, why are you still fighting him? Don’t you need his help?” This new, but not really new, just never thought of, information made Abel pause. Solomon…was kind of right. God, he HATED when Solomon was right, because he’s always right. Abel shoved his face into his arms with a long groan, he guessed he’d have to figure out how to get back into the employee’s…Levi’s, favor, even if his pride would suffer for it.

Solomon slid his coffee over to Abel with pity, and Abel peeked at him through his hands. His friend gestures toward the offering, and Abel sighed before taking it.

“I hate this idea,” Abel muttered.

“You’ll get over it,” Solomon smiled, and Abel gave him a blank stare.

“Shut up,”

________________

Levi glanced up from his phone, the kid was still there. He was still staring him down like before, looking frustrated and conflicted. He considered throwing him a bone, but thought about it again, and decided he didn’t feel like being nice to him. Just when he went back to reading the TSL forum, Abel spoke up.

“I…” he forced out, looking way too anxious to be healthy. Levi looked up at him, studying him as he struggled pathetically. It was almost comedic, if Levi’s being honest.

“You…?” Levi drew out the word, raising his eyebrows bitterly. Abel took a deep breath, fixing Levi with a determined look.

“I’m…sorry,” Abel choked, looking away. “Sorry for being an ass. I just really, really, need your help, because I need to impress this guy since I’m this,” Abel squinted as he held two of his fingers close together, “this close to flunking out of this very good college, and he’s related to the dean, and I just figured out he likes TSL so I’m trying to find-”

“Wait, stop,” Levi put his phone down, “TSL? As in the game I tried to recommend you the other day but you said, and I quote, ‘God no’,”

“Yeah, that. I don’t even know what it stands for because this,” Abel waved his hands in a vague form of a circle, “this is NOT my field of expertise, if it was maybe sports, or Disney movies, or-”

Levi held up a hand to stop him from his panicked rants, looking him dead in the eyes. “You, the person who nearly decked me out of anger yesterday AND directly shunned TSL, an amazing game and series, are asking for my help? Besides, why me, I’m just a stupid shut in,” he muttered the last part out of habit. Abel bit his lip, considering what he should say next.

“I wouldn’t say nearly decked you, man,” he laughed, the awkward kind where you know you’re in trouble, but don’t want to address the issue, so you make a bad joke and laugh at it because you’re nervous. His fingers kept twiddling, a nervous habit of his that he’s been trying to break.

Levi made a drawn out ‘ah’ noise, before clicking his tongue and shaking his head, squinting his eyes. “So tell me, why exactly should I help you? And what would I get out of it? We loathe each other, don’t we?” He smiled, the fake customer service kind, before it dropped and he went back to his phone.

Abel inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to psych himself out of the stunt he was about to pull, before saying fuck it and taking Levi’s phone from his hand. This earned a loud shout from Levi, which alarmed a patron inside of the store. Abel looked at them and smiled apologetically. “Alright, wannabe K-Pop star, you are going to listen to me, or else I will throw this phone into the wall,” Abel threatened menacingly, a bitter smile crossing his face with a crazed look in his eyes, “So, I need you to help me. Desperately. Enough to ignore my ego and ask you for help, because I’ve noticed all of your stupid merchandise with TSL logos all over it,” His hand reached up to snag Levi’s collar and pull him down to eye level, “So, if you help me with this, I will compensate with whatever you want. WHATEVER. Money, school work, drugs for God’s sake,” Abel exhaled sharply, “So, are you going to help me?”

Levi looked at Abel with wide eyes, face red out of some combination of shame and anger. His lips were pressed together in a tight line. He considered calling the police for a minute, but he’s been through desperation this strong before, Sucre Frenzy tickets wait for nobody.

“Well?” Abel growled.

Levi kissed his teeth, swallowing the terrified lump in his throat, “If I do help you,” he grimaced, as if the thought genuinely pained him, “you will be dedicated to this. You will come to scheduled meetings, you will take quizzes, and you will watch every episode of the show with and without me,” Levi looked to the side at a passerby watching their interaction curiously, he himself a tad embarrassed, “And…can you let go of me? I’m pretty sure I’ve got the idea.”

Abel’s eyes followed Levi’s and stared where Levi was looking, releasing him immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry…again,” he muttered, before hesitantly raising a fist. “Let’s finalize this,” Abel offered. Levi looked at it and furrowed his brows. Abel looked at Levi, then his hand, then back at Levi. Then he laughed out loud, really loud. Loud enough that startled the other patrons. Again. “You don’t know what a fist bump is?” He tried to hold in his laughter, but it just escaped him again in a soundless wheeze.

“Stop laughing at me, normie!” Levi huffed, frowning angrily. “If you couldn’t tell, I don’t get much social interaction.” Abel stifled his laugh before sucking in a breath, changing his fist into an open palm.

“Alright, then let’s-“ Abel snorted, “let’s shake on it.” Levi sneered and looked down at the hand furiously, before huffing and shaking it.

“We start tomorrow, 4 pm,” Levi said, “Now go, unless you’re going to buy something.“ He waved Abel off before adding, “Don’t forget, we still hate each other. Don’t get all buddy buddy with me, normie.” Abel’s grin dropped as he scoffed. “Besides, I don’t even think your tiny brain can even retain any of the complex information from TSL, so don’t make this pointless.”

“And to think we were starting to find some common ground,” Abel shook his head, before realizing something. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot this,” He laughed, ”My name is Abel,” He introduced.

“Huh?” Levi looked up from his phone, confused for a moment, before realization dawned on him, “Oh, my name is Levi.” Of course Abel knew this, but it would be creepy if he told him that.

“Wish I never met you, Levi!” Abel called over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. He could see Levi flipping him off out of the corner of his eye, chuckling to himself.

He waited til Levi couldn’t see him anymore before letting his lips quirk up in a relieved smile, he wasn’t failing out of college today, and he sure as hell won’t keep being bitter enemies with Levi. Abel knew there’d be a challenge, considering they “hated” each other, but he also knew that he’d be going through a few days of “training”. And if you think Abel was just going to let Levi walk all over him, you’re wrong. Abel was stubborn, he preferred tenacious, but let’s call it like it is, stubbornness.

So at the end of the day, Abel thinks Levi might be his friend. If Solomon can do it, he can. Well, actually, that was kind of pushing things, so really at the end of the day if Solomon thinks Levi was nice, maybe all Abel needed to do was get past his hard shell exterior. And his incredibly thick skull.

And his horrible personality.

And his dumb face.

And HIM.

…

Fuck, this was going to be a long week.

[chibimyumi]

Furutod vs Sebastyun

Dear @gisellehexen89,

First of all, I am very happy you seem to be enjoying my blog! And thank you for the interesting ask.

I think the best way to find out what ‘Elisabeth’ is is to read up on it, or watch it yourself; it is impossible to explain everything in a post. After having learned what the musical is about, and you’re interested in how TOHO staged it in 2019, I recommend reading my full art reports:【ACT 1】 and 【ACT 2】. These two reports also show my general thoughts on Sissi (^ω^)

Now instead, I shall dedicate this post to making a comparison between Furutod and Sebastyun.

Furutod vs Sebastyun

When Furukawa’s role as Der Tod was initially announced, most people believed he would be very similar to Sebastian. It is an easy trap: both characters are non-human, have very little scruples, are fiercely attractive, and the theme of obsession is omnipresent.

But honestly, that’s it. That’s all the similarities these two share.

1. Status

The biggest difference between Furutod and Sebastyun is their status. Furutod is the Lord of the Underworld (黄泉の帝王), and absolute authority over life and death of all that is alive. Sebastian meanwhile, is bound to servitude who cannot even wield full autonomy of his own. Needless to say, their difference in power status decides everything in their respective behaviours.

1.1. Sebastian

Let us look at Sebastyun first. All three Kuromyus from the Furukawa era show very clearly that Sebastian is very limited in many fields, but the difference between the ‘mask of the butler’ vs ‘the raving demon’ is clearest in ‘Tango on the Campania’.

In the scene with Edward, we see the boy pulling rank on ‘a mere butler’. Edward was basically threatening O!Ciel using Sebastian, while hiding behind the face of ‘a loving brother’. There was nothing Sebastian could do as a mere servant, so he very explicitly checks first whether Edward had left, before he could show his true reaction: “whatever.”

In the cinematic record too, Sebastyun clearly disagreed with what his master demanded of him, and he only showed his BIG ATTITUDE after the boy had left.

Likewise, as explained in this post, because Sebastian is always bound to servitude, his autonomy (or whatever little he has) is something he treasures a lot. His only outlet of freedom is being pedantic and obtuse. Sebastyun takes it a step further by being passive-aggressive on top, a trait Furukawa has made his Sebastian famous for.

Obviously Sebastyun sees fun in doing so, but this is undeniably the result of a long history of getting his autonomy denied. He is the servant in the shadows who needs to wield power within other people’s boundaries.

1.2. Der Tod

As I mentioned above, Der Tod is the Lord of the Underworld, and as Furukawa himself interprets, represents the authority over both life and death. He never has to ask for a ‘yes’, other people’s consent or opinions are non-consequential to him. He takes lives because he can, and nobody can punish him for it.

Being an existence who never needs to learn accepting a ‘no’, he does not need to put up a face, because he never needs to make compromises. Der Tod is SO used to getting his way, that teasing the possibility of ‘not getting his way’ is even a game to him.

1.3. Comparison

Sure, Sebastian also teases and pushes his limits sometimes, but unlike Der Tod, Sebastian does have to consider having to reap what he sows. If Sebastian fails and breaks his contract, surely something terrible awaits him. But Der Tod? Nah... his Death Angels will clean up his mess.

Der Tod can afford to make mistakes in playing with his prey, unlike Sebastian. In The Last Dance↑, we see Furutod make the biggest miscalculation; scaring Elisabeth. Had he not scared her, then Elisabeth might have been quicker in agreeing to die for him.

Unlike Der Tod who has minions to clean up his mess, Sebastyun does need to make careful calculations.

2. Understanding and Interest

Another major difference between Der Tod and Sebastian is their understanding of and interest in human beings.

2.1. Sebastian

The thing Sebastian keeps saying is how interesting humans are; Sebastyun is the scientist always hungry for more knowledge, and humans fascinate him to no end. In ‘Tango on the Campania’ even with debilitating pain, he was smiling with the excitement at human behaviour.

He also makes use of whatever knowledge he has acquired throughout his centuries on earth to get what he wants or needs. Like I said above, at some point in history Sebastyun learned that fear would cause a human to shut down, so he was careful in not scaring Beast, lest she might not open up to him.

Had Sebas been a bit of a dumb-dumb and scared Beast the way he did in the manga, or the way Der Tod scared Elisabeth, then he would have failed his mission logically speaking.

2.2 Der Tod

Der Tod in contrast, always gets his way, so he does not need to understand humans to achieve anything. But more importantly, he is superbly uninterested in understanding humans. The only reason he shows interest in humans is for himself; he wants to bend humans to flatter his own ego. “If Elisabeth finally begs to die, then I AM the victor. If Rudolf commits suicide, then I manipulated him.” Der Tod’s satisfaction is the goal of his actions.

As such, when Rudolf ‘HAD THE AUDACITY to bore LORD DEATH’, he bitchslapped him before taking his life. When in the end Furutod did get Elisabeth, but not in a satisfactory way that assured his baby ego that he’s the winner, he was disappointed and lost all vitality.

To Sebastyun however, the satisfaction is a bonus: it’s nice to have, but it’s more important to get a job done.

3. Mannerism

Another point of difference is their mannerisms. Sebastian is a mere servant, and therefore needs to keep to the shadows. He usually tries (though fails) to adhere to the Victorian code of ‘servants should be like furniture, speak only when spoken to’. (In truth, Sebastian talks way too much for a proper Victorian servant, but he tries! He tries. Give the butler some cookies for trying.)

Der Tod meanwhile, is the supreme overlord of all and everything, so he does not need to care about anything. Plus, he can turn invisible as he likes. Unlike Sebastyun who needs to suppress his laughter or any other commentaries, Furutod can get away with laughing like a f*cking hyena on crack during an Imperial wedding.

4. Ego

Lastly, another stark difference between Sebastian and Der Tod is their ego and their presentation of themselves.

4.1. Sebastian

In this post I explained how Sebastian is very willing to humble himself, to come in second place, or take whatever disadvantage voluntarily for the sake of achieving something he wants or needs to.

This is because Sebastian is very secure about himself, and the recognition of humans (cattle) means nothing to him. He does not need anybody to know how powerful he is, instead he takes greater pleasure in silently manipulating others, using humans’ own actions against themselves.

Yes, Sebastian does love to flex, but he does not do any of those things to increase his reputation. We can tell from Sebastian never lingering to check people’s oohs and aahs. It’s like how when we impress a toddler with something easy, we usually won’t indulge in the kid’s praise because we don’t feel an increase of social regard. Instead, the fact that the toddler is impressed with something so easy is more interesting to us.

Sebastian’s flexing seems more like an outlet because O!Ciel forbade him from showing his true potential, and it is frustrating to him. It is just like how we as (young) adults we are capable of understanding deep analyses, but get constantly told to read picture books, on top of also having be content with hearing: “how amazing, you can read a picture book! You are astonishing!!😱”

4.2. Der Tod

If Der Tod was not explicitly ‘death’ personified, I would say that Furutod is ‘huge ego and diva complex’ personified.

Despite being a more elevated being than Sebastian (the scavenger demon) is as Lord of the Underworld, Furutod does like being praised. Der Tod is and will always be above human beings, and that is as boring a fact as water being wet. As I explained in Art report act 1, Furutod suffers from ‘lethal apathy’, and in this sense he needs more than to know ‘that mortals are beneath him, that water is wet’. Furutod wants to know that the mortals fear him, and gets a kink out of mortals being on their knees for him. Der Tod is not just ‘death’, he is the personification of ‘human regard of death’; and the fear of death, is what unifies human kind, after all.

Another point in stark contrast with Sebastian is that Furutod does have kin near him: the Death Angels. The regard of mortals is nice, but he also likes keeping his minions impressed, because his kin’s reverence also means something to him. It is almost like Furutod wants to justify why he should be superiour to the Death Angels (even though his position is never challenged). He just gets a REALLY big kink out of praise, okay? ( ´艸｀)

Furutod’s enormous ego also shows itself in his diva-ness. When he is courting Elisabeth for example, he is basically behaving like a peacock. He takes Elisabeth’s hand and runs it through his silver hair, his ivory silken skin. “Look at me, feel me, human, I am SO drop dead gorgeous.”

Furutod also can’t handle being lower than anyone; whenever he has the chance he will literally place himself on higher footing.

Contrast this to Sebastyun who is always very willing to put himself lower than others. This ⇊ would be UNTHINKABLE for Furutod.

5. Conclusion

In conclusion, besides the ‘non-human character in a dark theme’ aspect, Sebastyun and Furutod really don‘t have anything in common.

5.1. Sebastian

The fact that Sebastyun is always bound to servitude whenever he is on Earth, and his lack of autonomy, shape his behaviour. His reputation on Earth has no meaning to him; Sebastyun is confident about what kind of Demon he is, and the opinions of ‘cattle’ are therefore insignificant to him. The only thing one must not challenge is whatever little autonomy he has left, and he will test and find the upper limit to wield it.

5.2. Der Tod

Furutod in contrast, only knows what it is like to be the most superiour being and never getting his authority challenged. He never had to learn to make compromises, nor does he ever have to deal with consequences. As such he is really a foot-stamping-toddler (Foot-stamping Der Toddler? Sorry.) with a toxic superiority complex and too much power.

Furutod’s supremacy is mind-numbingly boring to him, but there is no way to achieve something grander than what is already grandest. He is trapped in his own mind of toxic superiority and boredom, and will live the rest of eternity searching for entertainment. (It is kind of sad if you think about it......wait, I’m feeling bad for Der Tod? Hmm Furukawa, you really did add a whole new page to the history of ‘Elisabeth - das Musical’)

In short: where Furutod is eternally bored and has no prospect of getting sustainable entertainment, Sebastyun will always have something interesting he might run into.

[fandom-necromancer]

935. Are you proud of me?

Now here is the second one prompted by the same wonderful anon! This time in the correct order! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Allen60

Captain Allen had never been one to feel the need to please. He let his actions talk for him. He had made it to Captain in no time because of his extraordinary capabilities on the job, not to last because of his ability to worm his way out of hopeless situations, often saving his colleagues in the process. Nowadays he was responsible for planning and tactics more than actually being in the field, but he was always present at the scene with his team. He prided himself to have capable people under him, too. Most he had known for years already, some where younger, but had earned his trust.

There was just this one person that he couldn’t integrate successfully: A RK800 unit he had been passed over by Fowler. Some jokingly called him “evil Connor”, but Allen had quickly realised this was completely incorrect. The android, called Sixty wasn’t evil. In fact, he held no malice at all - nor any other emotional impulse at that. Sixty was more machine than Connor had been, although it was evident, he was a deviant. All that mattered to him was the mission and he was ambitious in his cause. Whoever dared to get to know him was batted away with something along the lines of “humans could never be equal to an android”. Allen himself had tried to get to know the unit in the beginning, form a bond like he did with every new recruit. But he had been easily brushed off, too, being told that he would follow his orders and had no interest in any further interaction.

The android had since become a thorn in his side. Talking back to him during briefings, correcting him whenever an approach he thought of wasn’t optimal and if one of his man made a mistake proclaiming that wouldn’t have happened if the person had been an android. It was undermining, it was impolite and worst of all: it was annoyingly true every time Sixty opened his mouth. And the more the android corrected him, the more Allen tried to become better. At first it was a subconscious change, Allen taking extra time to refine plans, often sitting on it until deep into the night. But even as realisation hit, he couldn’t stop. It only got worse.

One evening, he again sat in his office, their current case laid out in front of him: A planned Red Ice razzia. He was sure to have missed some eventuality in his most thought-out case. He had been sure to have missed something for the last two hours, both of them already beyond his worktime just like the two before. He sighed and rubbed his temples only to look up and see that he was the last one on duty. At least they had let the lights on for him. He sighed, looking at the papers like they personally offended him, before gathering them. He butted them against the table a few times to align them, accompanying every noise they made at the contact with a loud: ‘Fuck. This. Thing. In. Particular.’

‘Captain?’ Allen jerked up at getting caught. He had thought to be alone. But there he stood, the reason for all his irrational behaviour. ‘What do you want, Sixty?’, he sighed, steeling himself for another discussion of human inferiority. ‘I thought everyone had left already. You are four hours and twenty-three minutes over your shift’s end.’ ‘So late already…’ ‘Yes. What are you still doing here?’ Allen looked towards the android, his face a sour grimace. ‘Working. You know what? Here.’ He handed the RK800 the papers and the android flicked through them. ‘Are you proud of me now, hm? I work my fucking ass off here because you can’t shut your mouth at how advanced you machines are and how we humans are some second class shit. Now there you have it! All eventualities thought of and an overall perfect plan! Now please tell me how I am a dumb organic piece of meat.’

‘Have I ever said that?’, Sixty asked laying the papers on his desk neatly. ‘What?’ ‘I didn’t know I would come across like that.’ Allen laughed. ‘Oh, excuse me, do you think pointing out every flaw in the briefings is the right thing to do? Do you think telling people in their face they are inferior scum would make them like you?’ ‘I never said that.’ ‘Oh, but you mean that, don’t you? If it were for you, we were all replaced by androids already, right?’ ‘Yes’, Sixty said. ‘I would do everything to achieve such a state.’ Allen nodded, taking the papers while exhaling a long breath along with his anger. ‘If you believe I mean you harm in doing this, why did you “work your ass off” and stay beyond your time to work on this?’ The android even had the audacity to keep a calm face saying this. ‘Because you are annoying and because you are wrong. We are equals. And I want you to see this.’

The android seemed to think, judging by the golden LED. Then he sat down on the chair opposite to his desk. ‘I believe I have some explaining to do.’ Allen leaned back in his chair. ‘Please.’ He gestured across the desk. ‘by all means, enlighten me.’ ‘I believe – I know human are inferior to androids.’ ‘Ah, I know I should have gone to HR for this shit…’ ‘Please, let me speak.’ Allen fixed the android and pushed down the urge to punch him. Sixty nodded. ‘There had been a misunderstanding. Although I know what I just said is true, it is without value. I don’t think a human life is worth more or less than one of an android. I agree we are equals. I- I was killed by a human. I needed time to understand that human killed me because I was threatening a life and a deviant one too. Most likely even more than just one. And as I had the unique experience of dying, staying dead and then be reawakened just to see what I could have destroyed… I don’t want any more deaths. That’s why I correct you. I can calculate more outcomes any human can in such a short time. And whenever there is even the possibility of someone coming to harm, I correct you. I would like it if androids replaced all of you because we are… We can be repaired. We can survive certain death. Humans… can’t.’ Sixty looked Allen straight in the eyes and the human suddenly understood. ‘If what I say may come across incorrectly, I want to apologize. Although now I can understand how I am not very well liked in our unit…’

‘Oof… Yeah, you are certainly not good with words…’, Allen chuckled. ‘Although I guess we also just hear what we want to. I err… Okay, how about we work on these plans together? It is frustrating to work something out just to have do the whole work again. And seeing you more integrated in the unit will make them trust you faster.’ ‘That would be appreciated. Because I won’t be silenced.’ ‘I would have never dared to say that’, Allen smiled honestly. ‘Then that’s covered… partner?’ He held out his hand for Sixty to shake. The android nodded, taking it. ‘Partner.’

He stood up, about to take his leave and watch the human make his way to the exit to get some sleep, just as Sixty entered stasis and switched off the light wirelessly. Perhaps it was a good idea to end this day in peace and not tell the human there were exactly three-hundred -thirty-six more outcomes he couldn’t have thought of, four of them ending in humans hurt. Yeah, he should wait with that until after the Captain’s first coffee tomorrow.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Fidget Spinners VI

           The Lord of the Underworld was almost exactly what Pax expected he would be: moody, dark, and evil-looking with a strong affinity for the color black. Or maybe it was the color “trapped soul.” Whatever it was, Hades liked it outlined in gold, probably to look more intimidating. He wore black robes and had a helm under one arm.

         There was one major problem. He didn’t have blue fire for hair. Disney taught Pax that Hades was supposed to have blue fire hair and a great sense of humor. Disney had lied to him. This just looked like a rich, pasty white guy. 

         His black and gold chariot was spooky, but Pax had seen cooler ones. The one they were designing for Kronos was way better.

         Axel was crazy enough to have his sword still drawn. In the presence of the Lord of the Underworld, with Hades’ squadron of geriatric dominatrixes, and some Halloween standees behind them, Pax’s brother set his jaw and kept hislips in a firm line. When asked later, Pax would say Axel didn’t shake once (and they would get a chance to be asked later; they were both surviving this, damn it.) Truth was, Pax’s presence seemed to weaken Axel’s resolve. Pax guessed it was real easy to get yourself killed when it was just you that would be doing the dying part.

         Pax’s mind raced. One thing was certain: they weren’t fighting their way out of this.

         Axel grunted when Pax pushed his sword hand down.  

         “Get out of here,” Axel hissed in Mayan.

         Pax didn’t know how to explain to Axel that the invisibility spell over Pax was sparking and would attract a lot of attention if he tried to pick up Axel and flee. Pax didn’t get a chance.

         Hades’ voice boomed and reverberated around the cavern more than Jack’s had. “You will not escape me this time, Perc—”

         As his chariot ground to a halt, his dark eyes narrowed at Axel’s tiny form, then flicked back up to the furies. “This isn’t Percy Jackson.”

         The furies had been fluttering in an intimidating circle above, like the most obnoxious of gnats. One landed beside Hades’ chariot, looking nervous. “We thought it was Luke Castellan, My Lord. Your rage and obsession over Jackson must have—”

         Hades roared. He lashed out towards the Fury.

         She took to the sky again, shrieking.

         “Does this look like the host of Kronos?!” Hades bellowed, Pax thought, rather offensively. Axel could totally host Kronos if he wanted. “I’m not sure if I would rather strike Jackson or Castellan dead first.” His dark gaze returned back to Axel. “You’ll have to suffice.”

         Pax wished the invisibility spell came with a sink-into-the-ground function. He trembled at the power radiating off this god, and knew, in that horrifying moment, that Axel was about to challenge Hades to a duel.

         Pax’s mouth opened. He wasn’t sure what words would come out, but they would definitely be better than Axel’s, You wanna throw down?

         “We’re lost,” Pax said.

         Hades looked confused, clearly noting that Axel hadn’t opened his mouth.

         Axel tensed.

         No option for running now. Pax continued, feeling a few sparks above his head flutter down to singe he shoulder. He hoped that wasn’t burning holes in the invisibility spell. He might need it in a moment. “Yes, we’re lost,” Pax repeated. “We’re looking…” He grasped for anything that might baffle the Lord of the Dead. At those words, it popped into his head. “We’re looking… for Xibalba?” The comment came out a question.

         Axel cleared his throat. “Yes,” he confirmed, glancing in Pax’s general direction without landing exactly on Pax. “We’re looking for Xibalba.” Robotically, Axel sheathed his sword.

         Hades looked incredibly annoyed. “You are Mayan,” he said, examining Axel’s tufted ears with begrudging realization. “You’re not Greek at all.”

         “Nope,” Axel confirmed. “My faith is in the Mayan gods and the Catholic Trinity.”

         None of that was false. They had always practiced within the Mayan and Catholic faith. They knew Greek and Roman gods and hung out with them. Pax hardly called that faith or worship, no matter how often Morpheus liked to tease them as his little devotees when they slept-in with a rare, sweet dream. Axel scorned when anyone suggested he refer to the Titans as all powerful.

         Hades pinched the ridge of his nose. “Who let you down here?”

         “Um…” Axel said. He, Luke, and Jack must have slipped into the Underworld through a back entrance and didn’t know who to pin the blame on.

         Pax had an immediate answer. “Charon,” he said.

         “CHARON!” Hades bellowed.

         Even Axel flinched as the cavern trembled with a minor earth quake. A stalactite fell and crashed into lines of the dead in the distance. They passed through, unharmed.

         “First he has the audacity to ask for a pay raise, and now he’s letting heathens into my domain!” Hades yelled, “His impertinence knows no end! First his suits! And now his life coach that’s telling him how hard it is to find someone with his skill set!”

         Although Axel probably couldn’t see Pax, the brothers knew to looks towards each other as though to exchange a glance.

         “Is his skill set hard to find?” Axel asked.

         “Yes!” Hades bellowed, “It’s nearly impossible to find a well-suited grim reaper.” Pax wanted to raise a hand to ask if Hades’ “well-suited” meant Charon’s outfit or skill set, but Hades cut him off. “But, you can’t let him know that. It goes straight to his head and now he thinks he’s irreplaceable. He forgets that one-in-a-billion is different than irreplaceable. How many people do you think die in a day!?”

         Pax coughed into the back of his hand to keep himself from laughing. Was this guy for real? Most of his prior fear was evaporating. “Us heathens?” he reminded Hades.

         “Yes, it has been an awfully long time since Charon flubbed and let savage barbarians into my domain—”

         “Let’s stick with heathens,” Axel growled.

         Pax had to agree. He remembered Alabaster once telling him something about how barbarian meant someone who wasn’t Hellenistic to the Greeks, but avoiding the adjective “savage,” was that too much to ask for?

         “And now we have a leak in our ICEE unit. They should have caught you at the entrance,” Hades continued like Axel hadn’t spoken.

         Had Pax heard that right? “ICEE? For real? As in—”

         “Inhumation Correction to Exact Exequies,” Hades growled. “This is what you get when you let liberal arts majors name things. Regardless, they’re for the dead who were improperly processed after death. They’ll be able to sort a ghost and a…. are you some kind of spirit guide?”

         The question didn’t sound sarcastic, just irritated. Pax’s mind raced, trying to think—

         Pax decided to go with lying, a rarity with his normal half-truths. He forgot no one could see him while he shrugged. “He’s the weird one. All Mayan dead look like me.”

         “Uh-hu…” a Fury somewhere above said doubtfully.

         Pax stuck a tongue out at her and had the delightful realization that he could moon the Lord of the Dead right here, right now, in his own domain, and no one would know to stop him and there would assuredly be no repercussions.

         That would also mean mooning the creepy dominatrixes in the sky. He decided he would pass up the opportunity to avoid that.

         “We’re sorry to cause you such strife, Lord Death,” Axel said, holding up his hands in a mock-honoring gesture. “We can show ourselves out, really.”

         “Likely,” Hades said. “Last time we had an ICEE mix up, there was SUCH ruckus and chaos. That einherji was terrible for our image!”

         Axel frowned, his hands clenching into fists. “You know, not all misplaced souls are like that.”

         “Yes, you try telling that the to Elysian Field occupants that had their houses torched and raided. All it takes is one and it devalues all the properties for miles!” Hades said.

         Pax got the bad feeling that Axel was about to attack Hades regardless of their ruse. While warranted, Axel might really be a misplaced Mayan soul stuck in the Underworld’s immigration unit if he did.

         Before Pax could say something to ease the mood, Hades leaned forward in his chariot. His hand curled around his black helm. His dark eyes bore down onto Axel.

         Had Axel been a lesser man, he’d have probably crumbled to his knees with all that godliness trying to make him feel mortal. Pax definitely felt himself trembling. Instead, Axel stared back.

         Hades pointed to Axel’s arm. “You tried to swim in the River Styx.” This time, when the Lord of the Underworld spoke, his oily voice was also filled with ice.

         Axel lowered his arms completely. His burn marks had been on full display from where he’d withdrawn Luke from the dark waters and held his acidic friend.

          Considering that probably wasn’t a popular tourist destination for a leisure dip, Pax could see where marks from it would be suspicious.

         “Is that what your river is called?” Pax asked, trying to edge his voice with some mockery. “Our black river is the scorpion river. Dipping in it is part of our death ritual. You should check the pH balance of your scorpions. I think they’re off.” That most certainly was not part of their death ritual. Pax planned to stay as far away from the Black River as he could when we went to….

         An existential panic threatened to break Pax’s concentration on the present. Would he end up in the Mayan afterlife or the Greek one? Or even the Catholic one? Others in Camp Othrys said it was based off belief, but what if you believed in all three? And what if Axel didn’t end up in the same one? Would paradise even be worth it if you couldn’t hang out with your bro?

         The expression on Hades’ face brought Pax’s attention back. Those harsh lines hadn’t softened at Pax’s flubbed explanation. Hades was in the process of deciding he didn’t believe them and, probably, wondering which part of his robes he’d put the Pax brother’s souls into. Guy had some weird fetishes if he kept people’s souls in his robes and ladies with whips as his escorts. No wonder Persephone only stayed down here a few months out of the year.

         They needed a distraction and they need one fast, something that would shock or offend Hades so much that he’d forget to toss them into his evil sock drawer and something that would startle Axel away from where his hand was creeping towards his sword hilt.

         “Your helmet looks stupid,” Pax blurted.

         That… that was not what they needed. But, Pax would make it work.

         Before Hades eyes could bulge out of his head, his “WHAT” could shake apart the Underworld, or Axel could choke on his laughter, Pax continued, “I’m looking out for your best interests. It looks like your helm would look stupid on, and I wouldn’t want you looking stupid to other invisible spirits like myself. You see, us invisibles look visible to other invisibles. Haven’t you noticed that when you have your helm on?”

         It was a huge gamble. Alabaster would have been able to tell Pax if that was stupid or not, according to mythology. At the moment, all Pax could remember was that it was a helm of invisibility. He couldn’t remember what other figures possessed this power.

         Hades’ brow had furrowed in rage, his mouth agape like a rabid animal. In the briefest moment, Pax saw a glimmer of insecurity in those pits of eternal pain that Hades had for eyes.

         Either Pax had already sentenced him and his brother to death or Hades needed the tiniest bit more coaxing before he cracked.

         “I mean, I’m a Mayan. I’ll talk to you straight. How many Greeks would dare give you an honest opinion on this?” Pax said, so fast that he hoped others could keep the syllables separated. “Try asking one of your humble servants.”

         The ghoul army behind him shuffled in nervous motion. The Furies seemed to fly higher.

“I trust my servants to be honest with me,” Hades snarled. He scowled up towards the Fury that had spotted their party; she hadn’t flown up fast enough. “Alekto.”

She seemed alarmed. “Yes, Master?” she said uncertainly.

         “Does my helm look stupid when I’m wearing it?” Hades asked.

         Her wing flapping grew so tentative, Pax thought that she might lose altitude. “Um…. Master, I cannot see it on you when you wear it. You’re invisible.”

         Hades nostrils flared. “Of course you can’t,” he said, his voice bitter with suspicion.

         Pax shrugged in a, what are you going to do?, gesture. Remembering that Hades couldn’t see him, he shoved Axel and hoped his older brother got the message.

         “Underlings, am I right?” Axel asked. The words sounded unnatural from him. On the laundry list of things that made Axel passionately angry, the misuse of underpaid workers was one of them.

         That didn’t matter to Hades. He examined his helmet so thoroughly, he probably hadn’t even heard Axel. Pax had cracked Hades’ confident demeanor with the tiniest hint of insecurity. Alekto’s hesitation was all Pax needed to convince the Lord of the Dead that there was a problem.

“Charon did give the design to the Elder Cyclopes during the First Titan War. It has always been a little too tight.” Hades lifted his helm and stared into the dark eye sockets. Pax was a little disappointed that the helmet didn’t turn Hades’ arm invisible when he stuck his hand inside to lift it up. Hades snorted. “Of course I would be the only god that needed measurements for my great weapon. Zeus and Poseidon get a bolt and a trident. Doesn’t matter if their henchmen are unreliable. You’d think with all those tailored suits, that Charon could take a proper measurement—”

Pax wanted to point out that Hades should be able to just change the size of his head. He was a GOD. That was the opposite of what Pax wanted Hades to think. Pax feigned a gasp, kicking his brother’s boot.

Instead of sharing Pax’s gasp, as he had hoped, Axel glared at him. His message was clear: get on with what you’re doing before you get us killed.

         “Oh, you’ve never SEEN your helmet on yourself?” Pax said, sounding as aghast and offended as he could manage. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with not knowing whether or not you look like an idiot—”

         Hades made a threatening growl.

         Pax knew he couldn’t back down. “—and maybe telling Persephone that her husband lost his fashion sense after the SS uniform went out of style—”

         “Those uniforms influenced dark fashion for years,” Hades said with pride.

         “All villains admire that look. Clearly you know what you’re doing,” Pax agreed. “Maybe we just need someone to model your helmet for you, that way you can make adjustments to fit what you think is best, not Charon’s sloppy notes.”

         “It would be nice to fix the sizing. And I could add some more skulls to it, if I were to have it fixed,” Hades mumbled, tilting the helm on its side.

         “You’ll need someone who—I mean, no one could do your grand, imperial stance justice, but someone who would come close. You need a chiseled, manly-jawed model. Someone with an authoritarian stance...” Pax hummed like he was thinking. “Oh, the Furies won’t do. They’re ladies. And you don’t want someone who’s decomposed. They won’t be able to tell you if it would be comfortable with adjustments. What’s your head circumference?”

         “37 in this form; 25 when I look more like the lesser race,” Hades said absently. He gestured towards Axel and Pax, clearly meaning, when I look mortal.

         “Twenty-five!” Pax cried. He shoved Axel’s shoulder, so Axel stumbled a step forward. “A chiseled-jaw, authoritarian stance and a 25 inch head circumference—”

         “No—” Axel hissed at Pax, but Pax knew it was already too late for him to properly protest.

         “—that just so happens to fit my brother! What luck!” Pax had no idea if that would fit his brother’s head. He didn’t know many people who knew their own head circumference, let alone the head circumference of a relative. After they lived through this, he’d have to ask it of Axel. Then he could make him a, I Went to Hades and Only Got This Defective Helm of Darkness cap.

         Hades’ eyes narrowed. They slid past the helm to the two of them. Pax had managed to usher them closer to Hades’ chariot. “Are you suggesting I put my most prized weapon atop your brother’s head?”

         “I mean, if you have someone else to model it for you quickly, we don’t need to bother you.” Axel shot Pax a look.

         Pax nodded sagely. “I’m sure you have lots of dashing heroes that aren’t decomposed and gross or incorporeal to help. I mean. We’re just right here. Passing through. And I happen to be someone who can see invisible things. I guess we could call up Hecate—augh. I forgot she betrayed you for the Titans.” Pax snapped his fingers like he was disappointed. “And Queen Persephone might not mind too much if you get some zombie brain junk on those beautiful, raven locks.”

         Hades eyes widened enough that Pax thought the King of the Underworld might shoot lasers at him. Maybe Pax was pushing the line a bit too much.

         “How would a Mayan know about Hecate and her betrayal?” Hades demanded.

         “The Lords of the Dead gossip a lot,” Axel blurted. “You know how Lord Hun-Came gets when he’s been drinking and playing ball with Lord Vucub-Came.”

         “This is why you only have one Lord of the Dead. Bureaucracy just means red tape and more time for courtly banter.[1] You can run a government so much easier when you’re a tyrant,” Hades said and sighed, like he’d been petitioned many times for a democratic underworld.

         Axel rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Apparently, only when you have competent henchmen.”

         Pax pinched his brother’s arm. They were close; he could feel it, especially since he almost felt bad for Hades. If Hades really thought it was easier to rule down here by himself, Pax wondered how lonely this guy got.

         Pax wasn’t here to check on the underworld’s mental health though. “Why not surround us with a circle of guards. It’s not like we’re trained acrobats that can jump over people’s heads.” Axel snorted. Pax pinched his shoulder again. “And, we might as well help you. It’s the least we can do before you escort us to your ICEE unit.”

         Hades considered this for a moment. His entourage shuffled in discomfort. The Furies might hit a stalactite if they flew any higher to avoid his wraith.

         “Very well,” he said. “Guards!”

         The shuffling grew louder as the warriors made a loose circle around him and his brother. Some of the spear tips got a little too close for comfort. They’d have to be careful avoiding those while escaping.

         Hades motioned Axel forward.

         The taller boy clenched his jaw. Pax was pretty sure the tension therein could shatter an entire frozen lake. While this was the perfect opportunity for Axel to get the sword equivalent of a sucker punch on Hades, Pax wanted to remind Axel that they probably couldn’t stab the Lord of the Dead, bid a “good day” to his army, and skip out of here down a black brick road. Pax swallowed, reminding himself that sucker punches were things that he did. His brother had some weird concept about something called honor? Pax normally ignored Axel when he talked about it.

         Here came the hard part: getting Axel to kneel to accept the helm.

         Axel leveled with Hades’ black chariot. Pax could feel the overwhelming power radiating off it and its master. Authority bled off this guy like creepiness from a spider, and Hades wanted Axel to bend to his will without having to be asked.

         Axel, an idiot who bowed to no man nor god, cleared his throat. “Lord Hades, I believe you won’t be able to reach me from your chariot if I kneel.”

         The comment was presumptuous and Pax thought Axel had blown all their improvisation quicker than a Star Trek Vulcan would ruin the atmosphere of the Renaissance festival. He waited for Hades’ fist to turn into a cartoon hammer and smash Axel into the black sand.

         Instead, Hades growled, “Mayans are the first people to even think about that. Would my soldiers have said anything? No. They would have forced me to reach further down to get them.” Especially with how tall the god was, an extra four feet would be a lot to stoop.

         The Lord of the Underworld lifted his hideous black helm above Axel’s tufted ears.

         As the helm came down, it compressed Axel’s long, twisted hair. Or, Pax thought it did. When it made contact, the helm melted Axel.

         Within a microsecond, the essence that was Axel had liquefied into shadow and flooded into the sands. There wasn’t even an indent where he’d been standing.

         There was one major flaw in Pax’s plan. He actually couldn’t see his brother. And, in that moment, with Axel-fertilizer in the underworld’s black sand, Pax realized Axel and Pax might have been the ones who were just tricked.

***

 Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :D Stay tuned next week to see what—well…. you can’t really see what Pax and Axel are doing. >>’‘

Anyway, stay safe and indoors!

  ***

Footnote:

[1] Ha ha. Courtly. Like a ball court…. I’ll show myself out.

[humaudrey]

TheThings is back on their bullshit

(WARNING: LONG RANT AHEAD!!!!)

Anyone know how to delete a YouTube video from someone else's channel (or just their entire channel all together) because...

This

Is SO

I don't even have the words!!!!

Once again, your girl watches one of their videos (several times unfortunately to really analyze this ish) so y'all don't have to and let me tell you, this one is 1,000,000x more infuriating than the one when they belittled Uma to lift Mal and make her better in comparison (link to my post on that here).

I've been recommended this video so many times since the trailers for D3 dropped and when I saw the title, I KNEW I was gonna hate it and low and behold, I DID!

So let's go over their "5 Signs on why Audrey is the real threat", shall we?

#1. Audrey's Outburst

So, their first piece of evidence as to why Audrey's the unfathomable dark force (their exact words) is because of the fact that Audrey yelled no as Ben proposed to Mal, "ruining their beautiful moment". They then explain that it would be "natural for Audrey to be jealous since she is Ben's ex-girlfriend", being perfect okay with the ugly "black, bitter, ex-girlfriend" trope that many have loved to stick onto her in their fanfics (I see y'all 👀), and then compares that moment to when Ben asked Mal to be his date for coronation in D1, stating that she didn't react so strongly before, so why now? EXCUSE ME?! Our girl left the Tourney Field crying that her BOYFRIEND had serenaded another girl with a love song, and not a single person ran after her. She had every reason to be upset then, too. Who's to even say why Audrey's saying no? It could be a terrible misdirect on the trailer's part. The theory that Audrey's possessed is swirling around everywhere, maybe it had already begun to take effect, which is why she's "acting so strangely". D3 hasn't even been released and they're already villainizing her. Figures.

They also use the typical argument that Audrey's into titles and she wants what Mal has, and that she didn't want Chad because he was merely a prince.

She doesn't want Chad because CHAD CHARMING IS A MANIPULATIVE TOOL! Ask Evie! Chad only thinks that being king would get Audrey's attention. You wanna talk about jealousy? Titles? If ant character is jealous of anyone's titles, it's Chad freaking Charming, not Audrey.

#2. The Crown

An obvious piece of evidence is the fact that "Audrey" steals the Queen's crown and Maleficent's scepter from the museum. Whatever, right? They assume that Audrey's faking her slumber when the sleeping spell hits, giving her an alibi. They then have the FREAKING AUDACITY to say that AUDREY, a non magical princess, who has been so anti-magic since D1 (with a grandmother who she loves dearly, that's triggered by the mention of said spells and curses), was the cause of the curse. Their evidence? Well, her family's VERY familiar with it, so it makes sense, right?

NO!!!!

Audrey has NO magic whatsoever!!! Did they forget that? The only reason her family is "so familiar" with the sleeping spell is because THEY ARE VICTIMS OF SAID SLEEPING SPELL!!!! And it's not like she could cast it, because, again, AUDREY HAS NO MAGIC!! If anyone is familiar with a sleeping spell, it's Mal. After all, she almost put Evie under just so she could grab her mother's specter from her.

How dare you take an Innocent family's trauma and turn it around to make them the bad guys?

#3. The Scepter

They continue to say that "Audrey" is to blame for the sleeping spell, rather than Celia, Hades, or Uma because "Audrey" has the specter. And immediately, they suggest that maybe Audrey's not working only. You wanna bet who they hinted Audrey was cooperating with?

If you guessed Uma, you'd be correct. All because Uma's seen laughing in her teaser. WHAT?! So, not only do you attempt to take Audrey's entire character and drag it through the mud, you take ANOTHER black girl's name that you've already tried to ruin and tarnish and say they're working together because they're BITTER?

If they're BITTER, it's ONLY BECAUSE YOUR WHITE, PLAIN, BARNEY COLORED DRAGON FAIRY PRIVILEGED PRINCESS PROSPECT FAVE had treated them HORRIBLY.

They end their third sign with the line "We knew Audrey was a mean girl, but we didn't think she'd stoop so low".

The meanest thing Audrey has ever done INTENTIONALLY, was 1.) Tell Evie that she and her family don't have a royal status in Auradon (to which, she is technically correct) and 2.) Tell Mal that she and Ben wouldn't last because she's "the bad girl infatuation".

Jane should be branded the mean girl because she turns on the one girl that helped her with her rise to popularity (which, granted, was for malicious INTENTIONS and caused EVEN MORE self esteem issues by degrading her).

MAL should be branded the mean girl, if anyone! She's:

Dumped rotten shrimp on her former best friend because she laughed at her

Forced a guy to throw a party since his mother was away, knowing that his abusive mother wouldn't be okay with it

Then locked a girl in a closet full of BEAR TRAPS at said party all because she wasn't invited to her birthday party when they were SIX YEARS OLD

Dumped lye on another former best friend's hair because she DIDN'T WANT TO BE COMPARED TO HER

Told another girl that all she had going for her was her personality, so she needed the wand to make herself pretty

ROOFIED HER SOON TO BE BOYFRIEND INTO DATING HER IN THE FIRST PLACE JUST TO GET A FRONT ROW SEAT AT HIS CORONATION SO SHE COULD STEAL THE WAND

AND TAKES SAID WAND FROM THE GIRL SHE EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATED EARLIER AND POINTS IT DIRECTLY AT AUDREY ALL BECAUSE SHE KNEW THAT MAL WASN'T GOOD FROM THE JUMP

Let's see a video ranking Mal's top five worst moments, huh? There's plenty of those to use for a freaking video.

#4. It's All About Mal (sounds like D3)

They start this point off with: "Audrey has beef with Mal".

AS SHE SHOULD!

They use the fact that Mal stole her boyfriend and her title and their families history with one another, so Audrey has this motivation to ACT OUT AGAINST HER ENTIRE COUNTRY? Not buying it! I won't buy it, especially since both parties seemed to have made amends at the end of D1 when Mal silently curtsies as a lame form of an apology that Audrey gracefully accepts anyway like the future Queen of Auroria would. Audrey's even seen bowing willingly at the end of Set It Off, and is even cheering and dancing with her friends as Mal and Ben share their moment under the fireworks, so clearly, Audrey's not broken up about it in the slightest.

They propose a theory that Audrey's absence in D2 is because she's planning her revenge in Sherwood Forest, and that she doesn't have car troubles because "Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather should be more than capable of handling it, so she's only calling Chad to help her plot her scheme.

Whatever they're smoking, I want it.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather can't help Audrey with her car troubles because of the MAGIC BAN!! They needed Chad to help with her car.

And I HIGHLY DOUBT that Disney would plan something so carefully since the entire series is branded with plot holes and inconsistencies anyway, so... 🐸☕

#5. Face Off Time

Their final point states that Mal has to face off against the enemy and they use the first teaser of dragon-Mal blowing fire at "Audrey" on top of the castle, and the card at the end that says "betrayal", that Audrey has betrayed all of Auradon. And since Mal only turns into a dragon against SERIOUS ENEMIES LIKE UMA IN D2, Audrey has to be a REAL THREAT.

Thank God they're probably not making a D4, because if they continue this trend of WOC wronged by Mal as the villain, I'd be scared for Evie...

So, in their words, Audrey and Uma, two of the few black girls in the entire franchise who have every God given right not to like/trust Mal, are Mal's MOST SERIOUS rivals, as if Hades doesn't at ALL pose a threat to Auradon. No, Audrey is So mUcH MOre THreATEninG thAN ThE GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD, SO SHE MUST BE STOPPED!!!

I see you, TheThings, and if I didn't despise your channel before, I hate it that much more now after enduring 5 minutes of hell with you guys.

AND, TO TOP IT ALL OFF THEY CLEARLY SHOW THEIR BIAS OF MAL OVER AUDREY!!

Like, just say you're racist and GO! Audrey's clearly influenced by some magical being, whether it be Hades (WHO WE SEE DOING SOME KIND OF MAGICAL RITUAL WITH HER AND HIS EMBER IN A TRAILER, BUT I GUESS THEY CHOSE TO IGNORE IT FOR SOME REASON 🐸☕), Dr. Facilier, Celia, or maybe even Maleficent. Your reasons for making Audrey the villain are pathetic, and I wish I could block a YouTube Channel so I would NEVER see another video from your channel ever again.

I'm so sick of how "mean" brown girls are treated in media AND fandoms. Why does Audrey get all of his libel while Mal gets away with EVERYTHING? Why are the Cheryl Blossoms, the Quinn Fabrays, the Kitty Wildes, and every other mean girl that Emma Roberts has ever played are so praised and are instant fan favorites while the Josie McCoys, the Santana Lopezes, and the Brees are seen as the bullies when, at the end of the day, they're both different sides of the same damn coin?

And if you don't see a problem with this, then, newsflash, you are the problem!

So, I end my rant with this:

And a short tag list containing: @amityravenclawelf and @coco-rena because I know these two are looking forward to this!

Have a wonderful day everyone!

And I apologize for the typos but I was HEATED!!

[caiminnent]

glass houses [Shaun & Lucy with mentions of one-sided shaundes & deslucy, rated T]

Prompt(s): sleep deprivation (BTHB, 2/25) + 14

Summary: “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Tags: College AU, Bonding, Pining, Unrequited Crush

2.3K || Also on AO3.

Forty three—no, forty two minutes left to have lunch, get his essay printed and rush to Leonardo’s office on the other side of the campus—and Rebecca is still droning on and on about the part next Saturday, because clearly the life he doesn’t have is more important than the grade he won’t be getting unless they pick up the pace already. Murder on school grounds would probably get him expelled, among other things, which is why he’s only contemplating it; but an under-slept, under-caffeinated man has his limits and he is approaching his fast.

“No, Rebecca,” he repeats on a deep sigh as they finally get in line behind a couple in matching PJ’s, seemingly having a heated argument through sharp looks and contained gestures in that way only couples can. “I do not want to come to the party, thank you very much. I’m not even invited, remember?”

“I could ask Lucy,” she offers, unfazed. “We’re having lunch with her anyway, I could mention it then—”

His stomach drops.

“—I’m sure she won’t mind. I mean, the more the merrier—”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, “We’re what?” he cuts in. The Couple glance over with raised brows and pursed lips, as if he sullied their petty issues by having his own.

She frowns. “What?”

He just shakes his head. Lunch with Lucy, Christ. Today just keeps giving. “You won’t ask her to invite me,” he says, pinning her with his I Mean It, Rebecca look. “Or don’t even hope for a single page from my notes ever again.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll swear on anything, Rebecca.”

Fishing her phone out of her pocket, “Whatever,” she throws, fingers already dancing on the screen. His own remains suspiciously silent in his bag. “What’s your beef with Lucy anyway?”

The Couple aren’t even pretending not to listen in, half-turned in their direction as they are. He glares steadily at them until they get their noses out of his business and back into their own, although some of those meaningful looks are probably about him this time. Hell if he cares.

“I don’t even know Lucy,” he points out, rubbing at the throbbing spot over his brow—not that that’s ever helped. “Why would I have a problem with her?”

“You get weird whenever I mention her, man. Coulda thought you had a thing for her if I didn’t know better.” Pockets the phone again, shrugging a shoulder at his look. “It’s either that or hate.”

Oh for the love of— “I don’t hate her, either,” he says—the truth, too, no matter the disbelieving face she makes at him. He has no real reason to hate Lucy. He just... doesn’t prefer to share space with her if he doesn’t absolutely have to.

If he sometimes goes out of his way to make sure he doesn’t, well.

By some miracle—more likely, because they’re finally within reach of food—she drops the subject, shoving a tray into his hands and grabbing one of her own. His stomach curls into itself at the sight of half the containers, the other half he can’t even recognise beyond had it before and didn’t die.

He accepts a serving of each and trails off after Rebecca.

Once they push past the growing crowd towards the tables, scanning the sea of heads, “You should try to get along with Lucy, you know,” she pipes up—because Rebecca leaving anything alone would’ve been too much like good luck to happen to him. “You know who she’s friends with.”

“Rebecca.”

“I’m just saying. Sheesh, someone’s touchy today.”

And whose fault is that, he’s about to snap when he spots Lucy off to the side, dumping an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee—from Creed Coffee, no less. His first stop as soon as he drops off his essay; he’s earned a treat.

Because it’s just that kind of day, Lucy chooses that moment to look up and catch him staring like a buffoon. She beams at him like there was no one she would’ve been happier to see, waving them over.

“There she is,” Rebecca says, taking a sharp turn in her direction. He follows suit, squeezing between tables she breezes through and almost spilling his chow all over people on three separate occasions until they safely take their places across from Lucy.

To his credit, when Lucy smiles at him again, he does try to return it. His face muscles ignore the command entirely.

The women have already jumped into conversation on nothing he particularly cares about; he tunes them out for the most part and buries himself into his ‘food’ instead, fielding Rebecca’s attempts to lure him in with one-word responses and the occasional grunt when he can get away with it. About twenty minutes left; he can make it if he hurries. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Ignore him,” she stage-whispers to Lucy—with ‘him’ sitting right next to them, thank you very much. “His coffee machine broke last night.”

The audacity. “She means she broke it,” he clarifies around his spoon. It’s not grumbling if he’s right.

“Semantics,” she waves it off, reaching for her coat. “I’ll fix it when I get back, promise.”

“Wait, where the hell are you going?”

Raising her brows, “To turn in our papers, like we talked?” Rebecca says, confusion so thick in her tone that he almost doubts his own memory—except he could recognise that glint in her eyes anywhere. “You’ll keep Lucy company while I’m gone, right?”

That meddling little—

“Right,” he says for Lucy’s benefit, who is glancing between them with polite curiosity, doing his best to convey you owe me so much for this with one look. “Of course I will.”

Rebecca dares to grin at him, dropping the pretence altogether. All of three seconds and she’s off, leaving only an unused fork behind.

Without her around, the table has gone alarmingly smaller, Lucy everywhere within his sight unless he stares straight down at his tray. Had he ever been alone with Lucy before? Alone alone, within speaking distance, without anything or anyone to hide behind?

He doesn’t even have coffee to hide behind now.

One slides in front of him.

Raising her hands, “You look like you need it more,” Lucy explains, that too-warm smile on her lips; he feels shittier the longer he looks at it. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He did catch a sight of himself on the way here—not his best moment.

The polite no, thank you he should say is on the tip of his tongue—almost impossible to get out with the warm temptation is sitting right there in front of him, right under his nose, smelling—well, sort of like a unicorn exploded in there and caramel. Not that he can afford to be picky.  

Besides, he’s survived vending machine sludge; it only goes up from there.

“Come on, take it,” she insists, honest-to-god batting eyelashes at him. “So that I can feel a little better about asking for your ComLit notes next week.”

He snorts and accepts the bribe, only too eager. It’s syrupy to the point of nauseating, not unlike those energy drinks Rebecca fills the dustbin with, except with a lot less immediate kick. He doubts there’s any caffeine in there, even.

Magic might be involved, however, given the way he’s already feeling a tad closer to human.

He nods his thanks. She returns it.

“You know, Shaun,” she starts slowly, with an odd sort of caution—or maybe he’s just not used to people who think before they speak anymore. “I don’t know what Rebecca threatened you with, but you don’t have to sit with me just to be nice. I know you don’t really like me.”

He can’t help a wince—then a deeper one, when it hits that this was probably among the worst ways he could’ve reacted to a statement like that. Leave it to him to put his foot in his mouth without even opening it.

“It’s fine,” she adds, saving him from himself. “I mean it. Not everyone has to be friends.”

That’s not it, not at all.

Thing is, under different circumstances, they could’ve been friends, he and Lucy. He doesn’t know her, not really; but by the electives they keep coming across each other in and the books she carries, he doesn’t doubt they could find plenty to talk about if, if, he could get his head out of his arse and get over—

Well. He obviously can’t tell her all that.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not you,” he allows, the closest thing to an explanation he can afford to give.

“It’s okay,” she says gently, those huge, impossibly blue puppy eyes of hers trained on his. “I know.”

Blood freezes in his veins.

It’s a simple phrase. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond the face value. There’s no reason for it to; he’d been careful—more than, really—but that smile, all sadness and sympathy—

He swallows against the bitter taste in his mouth, a light burn all the way down his throat, pooling in the pit of his stomach. “You do?”

“I do,” she confirms, jerking her head somewhere to his far right. He follows her gaze to—

Oh, hell. She does.

“He doesn’t know,” she answers his unasked question, lowly enough that the rush of blood in his ears almost drowns out the words. “Don’t worry, you’re not obvious about it or anything.”

Clearly he is, if she noticed.

He risks another glance—he is sprawled on his seat with an arm resting on the other one, laughing at whatever bollocks story Cross might be telling, that stupid one-strap bag of his sitting on the table.

“You’re sure he doesn’t?” he has to ask, heart both at his feet and racing in his chest somehow.

She nods. “Positive. He’s the worst when it comes to this sort of thing, you wouldn’t believe it. He won’t notice unless you come at him with a brick that says I like you.”

Something at the back of his mind prickles like static.

See, past the initial shock, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’d gone wrong. As far as social circles go, his and his are on different planes entirely. They don’t have mutual friends beyond the tangential; they don’t frequent the same places unless Rebecca drags him out to Bad Weather; they hardly talked enough for him to develop this… thing he’s been saddled with, even. He’d thought—as long as he kept to his corner of life where he doesn’t have to face them, he’d thought he could pretend his feelings away.

It had never even occurred to him that someone might notice him not looking. That someone might have reason to care why.

He’s fairly certain of the answer when he asks, his stomach heavy with dread, “Speaking from experience?”

Her face goes carefully blank. It’s as good a confirmation as any.

He takes a deep breath, locking the irrational sting of disappointment down and away, where he can pretend it doesn’t exist, either. What does it matter if she is the competition? He had decided not to pursue that line of thought long ago. What does it matter if he’d already lost?

“You’re not obvious, either,” he tries. She smiles, if that rueful little curl can be called one. “He doesn’t know?”

She shrugs, too nonchalant to actually be that. “Or doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. I dropped, like, a lot of hints; no one’s that oblivious.”

Would it be awkward if he kind of sort of maybe wants to give her a hug?

It would, wouldn’t it.

What even is his life.

“Anyway,” she sighs, glancing at her watch. “Time to leave. Vidic’s class.”

Ugh. That he doesn’t envy her for. “Good luck,” he offers, reaching for the cup again—a bit sorry to have taken it from her, now.

She makes a face. “Thanks.” She drops her spoon on her mostly full tray, Rebecca’s abandoned fork with it. “By the way, it’s his birthday next Saturday. We’re having a party at our place; you should come.”

He almost chokes on the next sip, saved by a stray half second. “Me?”

She raises a brow, a perfectly arched duh.

His brain stutters. Why does she—why would she want him there, if she knows? If she—

It makes no sense.

Lucy is still seated across from him, calmly waiting him out like there’s nothing odd to this. Just two friends making casual weekend plans.

Not all that sure it’s not the exhaustion fucking with him, he licks his lips. “So you’re fine with…”

“That you’re on the same boat?” She shrugs again, zipping up her jacket. “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”

Huh.

Digging into her bag, she comes up with a blue marker, reaching for the other cup. “My number,” she says as she writes on the sleeve and puts it back, written part facing him—all neat, efficient lines, because of course. “Let me know if you make up your mind.”

He nods blankly, for lack of a better response. She smiles, standing up with her tray.

She’s already halfway to the door when he remembers: “I’ll bring the notes!”

She winks at him over her shoulder, fixes her bag and disappears into the crowd.

[golde-n-childe-blog]

After the Fire Dies

Smoke hung thick in the air, though it didn't pose much threat. The smoke in hell was thicker and stunk of more than charred wheat fields and betrayal. Still, if Blue asked, she would have blamed the plumes for the tears in her eyes. Anything to avoid the truth, right? The reason her lord picked her for the task. Ursula dodged the truth and walked the thin line of the little white lie like a tightrope acrobat. Misdirection worthy of applause like a handstand split. Half-truths were her ring of fire; they were captivating, dazzling despite the certainty of destruction. She played the crowd better than anyone, Blue could attest to that. The heat from the fire as it licked at her back during the battle was nothing compared to the searing cold of his glare. 

He sat across from her, sand colored complexion smudged with soot, dirt, and streaks of blood. The same combination turned his short, dark curls a dusty gray. Nothing dulled his sharp, gray-green eyes as they cut through every layer and lie she'd ever built between them.

"Was any of it real?"

Of course, that was the question he killed the silence between them. And he did kill it. Each word that slipped from his full lips carried enough muted fury to fill the entirety of their three-year friendship.

How could she answer?

It would have been easy to tell him no. To sit and ramble off a dramatic monologue about her evil scheming and his role as a pawn. She could weave an entire web of reasons for him to hate her more, against her own desires. Better than telling the truth.

"Nothing to say, then?" he snapped, "Maybe the question was too hard. Let's try this: Why did you bring me here?"

The little stone cottage on the outskirts of their battlefield had long since been abandoned before their clash came to fruition. A handful of wooden structures dotted the wheat field, but wood didn't make a safe shelter during a demonic wildfire. Which left the tiny, stone building as the only cover while the flames raged outside. Ursula believed it to be logical reasoning at the time, considering the sizable wound in her side. And she could have volleyed that reasoning across the room to him and see if he'd accept that instead of the less logical reason he searched for. A quick glance into his grimacing face and she knew better than to offer a distraction. But that, once again, left her with nothing but the truth burning in her throat, hurting more than the smoking hole under her arm. The worst part... she wanted to tell him everything. All of it threatened to spill out of her like the black blood oozing down her hip. But Ursula learned a long time ago. Sometimes the truth is harder to believe than a lie. Her silence stretched between them and Blue stirred, shifting his weight from one side to the other, wincing when he twisted the broken leg stretched out in front of him. The pain mixed with his anger and his thick brow furrowed as he clenched his jaw.

"You should have left me there," he hissed through grit teeth, "I'd rather face the fire than look at you."

"You would have died."

"Oh, so you can speak?" There was no avoiding him anymore, not his frown, nor the sweat beading on his forehead, nor the blood on his cheek. It wasn't his, she'd made sure of that. "Since my first two questions were impossible for you to lie your way through, I have one more. Why didn't you kill me?"

"I couldn't."

"You... you couldn't?" Brows raised, he tilted his head. "Why not? You didn't seem to have any trouble with my brothers. My uncle. My little cousin-"

"I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" Blue shouted, his fingers went white as his hands rolled into tight fists. "I swear to God if you say you didn't kill them, I will limp over there and strangle you where you sit."

"I didn't lay a hand on any of your people!"

"No! You're right. All you did was lead us into a massacre with no warning."

When the first tear fell, the second followed quickly. She hadn't blinked, but they fell anyway. One after the other. Until the tops of her legs were soaked through the heavy, black jean material.

"Don't you dare cry," Blue spat, his own eyes welling with tears, "You don't have the right. You can't cry for them. That's my responsibility, since you were so merciful as to save my life."

"I didn't want-"

He held up his hand, silencing her as he closed his eyes and turned away. "Stop. I thought I wanted to know why you did this, but I can't stand to hear your voice right now."

That was fair. At least, she knew she was supposed to think so. That would have been the acceptable reaction for her to have. It was fair he was angry with her. Beyond angry. Well into furious. It was fair he hated her for what happened to his family, his hunter clan. That was her mission. These were the casualties and consequences of her obedience. Except, they were also her friends. And none of it felt fair. Biting her bottom lip, Ursula winced as she shifted and attempted to apply pressure over her wound. Too large a space for her to cover it all, if she could slow the bleeding, she might heal enough to get them both out of the cottage and away from one another.

"I hope it hurts." He said it without looking her way. "I hope it hurts you for the rest of your life."

Bitterness painted her thoughts in dreary shades. It would. Even with the pressure, her tarry blood ran steadily from her ribs. The fact she got them both to the cottage without collapsing was a miracle. Without a proper bandage and some stitches at the very least, she would lose the body and return to hell. Where her real judgment awaited. Defeated, she chuckled silently at the thought of her lord staring down at her. Sentencing her to yet another death. More gruesome and final than the one she was experiencing. Physically, anyway. Emotionally, Blue was doing a fantastic job of making her suffer.

"You think this is funny." His gaze trained back on her, the same ire burned in his eyes. "You came into my life with the sole purpose ending me. And you have the audacity to laugh now."

"I'm not laughing at the end of your life." Her tired eyes met his before slowly dragging over towards the window. The harsh glow outside eased as the hellfire ebbed. "I'm laughing at the end of mine."

"What?"

Ursula lifted her arm and exposed the damage in all its severity. As Blue studied the injury, Ursula's vision wavered. That had to be the reason his expression seemed to shift and soften. Her human form was delirious from blood loss. There was no way in hell he'd care if she died. Shaking her head, she lowered her arm and massaged her temples before letting her arms drop to her sides.

"I was laughing because... you'll get your wish. Like I got mine."

"To destroy my clan?" he asked, voice tight with something more than fury and close to heartbreak.

"To keep you safe," she confessed. The swimming feeling in her head made the truth easier to speak without fear he'd rebuke it and her. Demons, apparently, weren't impervious to the morose and liberating effects of death. "What are you talking about?"

"During the fight, did you ever pause and wonder why you hadn't got hit once, until after they blasted me?" she snorted and let her head fall back against the cool stone. "Just think for a second."

"I don't-"

"Or maybe think back to before we got to the field tonight," she started and was interrupted by a coughing fit. When she finally drew air again, she continued through the burn gnawing at her ribs. "H-how many t-times... did I beg y-you to s-stop the car? Turn around? Go h-home?"

When he spoke, his voice was small. He looked small. The room shrunk around him. "I thought you were scared."

"I was."

[yusuke-of-valla]

Amaryllis

Day 6 of @shukitaweek for the prompt “Palace”

A.k.a: The “Yusuke is Madarame’s treasure” fic

Yusuke is Madarame’s prized pupil. He knows this, and is proud of it.

It’s pride that churns in his stomach whenever he sees his work hanging in an exhibition. It’s pride that spurs him to keep working through the night to fill one of Madarame’s deadlines.

Madarame teaches him that a good artist is humble. The pride Yusuke gets from hearing his work praised-- even if it’s under the wrong name-- sustains him. If it doesn’t than he’s a failure. He’ll get himself thrown on the streets, abandoned just like the others.

“I am proud,” Yusuke tells himself every morning. He’s proud and grateful that Madarame allows him to be homeschooled. That he doesn’t go out often.

“I am proud.” he whispers to himself, wandering alone through an ethereal museum of shifting colors and guards appearing out of nowhere. Because the gazes of the paintings lining the walls eat into him, asking him what he’ll do if it isn’t.

Yusuke doesn’t know how he got here. The last thing he remembers clearly was waking up in the courtyard, the before that falling, and before that...

Amamiya.

Yusuke had considered asking him or one of his friends to model for a piece when they’d come to the atelier, but decided against it. Madarame wouldn’t have liked him having people over. Besides, they were too much like these paintings. Making Yusuke ask if his pride was enough.

“Yes it is.” Yusuke had insisted. Many great artists were humble, and that’s all Yusuke’s ever wanted. To be a great artist. He wants his art to reach people the way the Sayuri reached him, and it doesn’t need to be under his name to do that.

Why couldn’t they understand that?

Still they’d come back, and Amamiya’s dumb cat had had the nerve to dart into the atelier, and Amamiya the nerve to follow Yusuke to go retrieve it.

“You know Nakanohara is worried about you. You told him you’d leave if you could, didn’t you?”

“I fail to see how any of that is his business, or yours.”

“You have to see that this isn’t right.”

“All I see is an outsider who knows nothing and has the audacity to make baseless accusations.”

Then it’s blurry. There’s flashes of Madarame catching them, of yelling, of the Sayuri? Then Yusuke’s running, then he’s falling. Then he’s landing and pain shoots through his head.

Spots dance across Yusuke’s vision  as he traverses the almost labyrinthian halls, and vaguely recognizes the sensation.

Madarame's private doctor shines a bright light in Yusuke's eyes.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks. "It's my fault," Yusuke says, his default reply since as long as he can remember. He doesn't elaborate. Sensei's taught him he doesn't need to. People don't need to know what Yusuke did that caused Madarame to strike him, just that it's his fault. "I was careless." The doctor nods."It looks like he has a minor concussion. Just avoid anymore blows to the head. Let me know if anything changes.”

Yusuke shakes the thought from his mind at the sound of footsteps. He doesn't know where he is, so he probably doesn't want to be caught by the guards.

.

..

.

Yusuke doesn’t know how long he spends wandering this place. It at once feels like an hour and an eternity.

Yusuke still hasn’t found an exit that doesn’t have guards all over it, but there are areas. Small rooms where Yusuke can stay unperturbed. He moves between them trying to find out where he is. Yusuke isn't sure what happens. One second everything's calm, then suddenly the alarms start blaring.

“Intruder! Get him!”

Guards that weren’t there a second ago rush towards him and Yusuke tries to escape down the hall.

Unfortunately, another guard appears in his path.

Rough hands grab Yusuke by the arms. He tries to wriggle out of their grip as he's more or less dragged through the museum.

Eventually, they arrive at their destination, and Yusuke is forced onto his knees.

“Lord Madarame, we found him sneaking around the artworks.”

Madarame?

Yusuke raises his head to see his teacher but…

“Sensei? What are you wearing?”

Madarame is dressed as a shogun, wearing gaudy golden robes.

He’s also fuming. “Yusuke! What are you doing here?”

“I-I got lost.” Yusuke says, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Do you know what you've done? I've been worried sick thinking that something had happened to you!”

“I'm sorry.”

“I was worried I’d have to make a scene by filing a report against your friend-

Yusuke’s head snaps up. “Amamiya? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

Madarame scoffs. “He was filling your head with nonsense. As if you could ever manage without me. He needs to learn what happens when you try to steal from the master artist Madarame, him and those Phantom Thieves.”

Yusuke just stares. “What does any of that mean?”

“It’s nothing you need to understand.” Suddenly Madarame gives a grin sends a shiver down Yusuke's spine. “Although, I suppose there is a way you can help me. Kill two birds with one stone. Guards!”

There's a blow to the back of Yusuke's head, and everything goes dark.

.

..

.

Yusuke's head is pounding. He slowly blinks his eyes open to see soft black curls framing handsome features. "Oh, an angel." He murmurs. The figure above him chuckles. "Thanks? You're nicer than I expected a treasure to be." "'M a treasure? Heh, you're not bad yourself." Yusuke slurs out. He's slightly more aware now, and realizes that he's being carried bridal-style by whoever he's talking to. "Wait." The person carrying him stops, giving Yusuke a chance to take in more of him and their surroundings. Yusuke's heart drops when he realizes they're still in the museum. They seem to have arrived at a courtyard with a familiar looking blue door. "Joker, what's wrong?" A voice ahead of them calls. Some sort of cat-thing approaches them, and Yusuke bursts out laughing. "Oh. A talking cat! This is all just a dream after all!" None of this was real. Everything was fine. (Nothing was remotely fine)

“Wait a second. Are you... Yusuke?” Handsome asks.

“Of of course I'm Yusuke.”

“No, that's not what I mean I-” Handsome sighs. “Let's try something else. Do you know where you are?" Yusuke shakes his head. "A museum? I don't know how I got here, I… I remember following Amamiya  and then falling and I... hit my head? That must be it.” Yusuke sighs in relief. “I tripped and hit my head and this is all a delusion." "You must have been knocked out and we ran right past you." The cat-thing says. "Wait." Another person approaches them, this one with twin-tails. "If this is where you’ve been the whole time, h-have you been in here for three days?" She gasps. "I… guess?" Didn't feel like he hadn't eaten in three days. More evidence for the dream theory. "For real?!" Someone else with a pipe says. Yusuke winces. Did dreams hurt quite this much though? He buries his face into Handsome’s chest to try and get away from the noise. "Please don't shout. I think I have a concussion.”

“So… what do we do now?” Pipe-guy asks. “I mean, if he’s the real Kitagawa, why’d we find him in the Treasure room?”

“Madarame tricked us!” Cat-thing shouts. Yusuke winces. “He must have found real Kitagawa and left him in place of the treasure.”

“But why go through all that trouble?”

“Madarame wants him back.” Handsome says. “His shadow was hoping we’d take him to the real world and leave him at the atelier.”

Twin-tails nods. “That explains why there aren’t any guards. He’d get Kitagawa back, and we wouldn’t be able to steal the treasure. Two birds, one stone.”

“Please don’t take me back.” Yusuke whispers, surprising even himself. But it’s true, he doesn’t want to, he can’t go back. He’d run away in the first place hadn’t he? The Sayuri. The Sayuris. Madarame had been duplicating them, and Amamiya had rightfully called him a criminal. Then Madarame had threatened him, and Amamiya and his cat ran and then…

Then Yusuke had hesitated. Madarame was gripping his arm, saying that his private security team would handle Amamiya, and Yusuke would be punished and going on about how awful it was that Yusuke would do this to him. Yusuke had stood there for a good few seconds. Amamiya couldn’t have gotten that far. If Yusuke followed…

If Yusuke followed he’d end up where he was now.

A soft face with a white mask fills his field of vision. “Hey, calm down.”

Huh, Yusuke hadn’t even realized he was hyperventilating. When was he placed on the ground?

“You don’t have to go back. In fact, we’re going to make Madarame confess his crimes.” Handsome says and Yusuke tries to compose himself. Allowing himself to breakdown like this is disgraceful. He focuses on the words.

“Make him confess?”

Handsome nods. “That’s right. We’re the Phantom Thieves. That’s Mona, Panther, Skull, and I’m Joker.”

“Joker. Nice name.” Yusuke mutters.

“Thank you.” He has a nice laugh. ”You're a lot more complimentary today.”

“Hm? Have we met before?” Yusuke asks. “The only person I've met recently as attractive as you was Amamiya.”

There's a long pause as everyone in the room stares at him. Slowly, Yusuke's addled mind puts the pieces together.

“Oh.”

Amamiya laughs again. “It’s fine. Anyway, this is a Palace. It’s a manifestation of someone’s distorted vision of the world.”

“So this… this is what Sensei truly feels.” Yusuke doesn’t know what to say.

“You knew, didn’t you.”

Yusuke sighs. “I am no fool. The abuse and plagiarism were everyday affairs, and strange people have been coming by the shack for years.”

“Well, we can change that.” Mona says. “At the center of every Palace is a Treasure, the source of someone’s distorted desires. If we steal that, then Madarame will be overcome with guilt and confess his crimes on his own!”

Yusuke considers it. “Is… is there anyway I can help?”

Amamiya offers a hand and helps Yusuke up. “Right now, we need to focus on getting you to a Safe Room or the exit.”

The others nod, but Yusuke frowns. “But…”

“You can help us by staying safe,” Amamiya insists, “I was really worried when I’d heard you’d run away, it’d be a weight off my chest to know you’re safe.”

Before Yusuke can respond, laughter rings out from the other end of the courtyard.

“Such a shame.” Madarame calls. “I was going to be merciful. All you had to do was return Yusuke and you would have been allowed to leave here alive.”

“There you are.” Skrull growls. “How ‘bout you take us to your Treasure and we won’t give you as much of an ass-whooping?”

Yusuke is only half paying attention to the exchange. His attention is drawn to the person with Madarame, surrounded by guards.

“Is that your treasure?” Yusuke asks.

Madarame grins. “Now you see why I need you returned to your proper place.”

Yusuke can’t help the chuckle rises from the pit of his stomach.

It’s him.

Standing oh so obediently behind Madarame is Yusuke’s splitting image, save for the clothing. The treasure is wearing robes that more closely match Madarame’s.

Yusuke’s head is pounding.

“I took you in after your mother died so you wouldn’t find out the truth of the Sayuri. The art skills you inherited from her were a delightful miscalculation. You gave me the idea to take on pupils. It’s much easier to steal from brats who can’t fight back than adults. I owe all of this” he gestures to the whole museum, “to you, Yusuke.”

“It’s always my fault.” Yusuke mutters. Every pupil adorning the halls of this twisted place, Natsuhiko, who even after everything still wanted to help him, the body. All of it was because of him.

“No, it’s not.” Amamiya - no, Ren- says. “Don’t let this bastard off the hook, you didn’t ask for any of this.”

“We’ll take care of this,” Ann says, “then the person who’s really responsible will admit it.”

Yusuke watches them step forward and prepare to fight.

His head is pounding. Not like before though, now it feels like someone is taking an pickaxe to his skull.

Have you finally come to your senses?

He can’t let them fight this battle for him. He’s staring down the true form of his teacher, a corrupt despicable man, and despite what the others said, it is sort of Yusuke’s fault isn’t it? He lied to himself in the mirror every morning to get by to please this man, and stood by as he stole the futures of the others for what? To avoid the same fate? Because Yusuke owed him? But if Madarame really thought of Yusuke as his Treasure, then he must need Yusuke a lot more than he realized.

So no, Yusuke isn’t letting them fight Madarame without him.

This world is filled with both beauty and vice, it’s time you showed people which is which!

.

..

.

“So what about him?” Ryuji asks, nodding at the Treasure.

Yusuke stares at his double. “He’s not really one for fighting back,” he says finally, “he won’t do anything.” Yusuke grabs the treasure’s hand and leads him back towards the others. “What now?”

The museum starts shaking violently. Mona transforms into a bus and shouts. “Shove him in the trunk and let’s go!”

Once they return to the real world, Yusuke fined an old sheet of paper. “This was the first piece I ever made. I was 3.” Yusuke hadn’t thought about this in over a decade, just barely remembered making it. It’s decent, he supposes, but to think so much suffering had been caused by something so… amatuer.

Yusuke frowns. Now that the adrenaline of awakening and doing battle is gone, his entire body feels heavy.

“Is it normal to…”

His vision starts to tunnel.

“Ah shit, someone catch him!”

.

..

.

Ren’s doctor friend shines a bright light in Yusuke’s eyes.

“Care to tell me what happened?” She asks.

Yusuke doesn’t know how to respond. After a minute she shrugs. “Well, he’s got a concussion, and is showing signs of exhaustion and light anemia. He needs food and rest.”

“I can handle that.” Ren says.

The doctor leaves, and it’s just Yusuke, Ren, and Mona in Ren’s attic room.

“So, what now?” Yusuke asks.

“What do you want to do? I was serious when I said you don’t have to go back.”

Yusuke bites his lip. “May I stay here?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that.”