#Delusion Tax AU

[cofigelly]

ೀ SIX EYES

——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader

synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture

word count; ~2k words

contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references

notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently

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the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.

well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.

in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.

you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.

that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.

in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?

but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.

paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.

just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”

you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”

your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”

you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you. 

brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.

this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row. 

the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."

his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.

“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone. 

you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”

he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”

“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”

briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door. 

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.

he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.

everything about you captivated gojo satoru.

from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.

he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.

and another. and another.

he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.

there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.

but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.

you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).

he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

there is no fucking way.

gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.

hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?

you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.

this guy has no shame.

gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.

"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.

"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."

wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"

you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”

after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"

you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.

for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.

it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.

lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—

"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.

you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.

you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.

you knew you wanted to feel this way again.

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final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)

[manjiroscum]

LILY OF THE VALLEY

Character/s: snow leopard hybrid!Rindou Haitani

Warnings: f!reader, mature language, explicit sexual themes, dark content, canon typical violence, blood, murder, dub-con, marking, mentions of mating, hybrid au, kidnapping, yandere!rindou, dom!rindou, sub!reader, cockdrunk reader, implied multiple rounds, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding, blackmailing/threats, pet play, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: commissioned by @httn 💜 thank you love for trusting me with this! i hope you like it 🫶

Synopsis: Only fools come out to play with a feral cat.

WC: 6.1k

Crimson specks marred the freshly fallen snow akin to wine spilled all over a white linen cloth. The bullet wound on his thigh was slowing him down. Nevertheless, Rindou trudged up the small hill to reach the other side of the forest hoping he would escape his pursuers that were looking through his busted car for any signs of life. With his teeth gritted, the lost man was sure he might die today. After getting separated from Ran and the others, a car chase occurred as he fled from the warehouse when a bomb about to blow up the building was shouted out. In all his years of doing the same song and dance, one could say Rindou got used to the chaos that has intertwined into his life since the day he was born with the need to experience thrills.

But, fuck, he could never get used to getting shot or bleeding out. The first time hurt like a bitch and the second time it happened made him want to pass out. It was more irritating to face than shoot those who dare touch his tail. Now, Haitani Rindou was sure he will die. Whatever plan those bastards cooked up that would confirm his demise, he had to give them props because they might succeed. Car dead, his phone without any signal, the temperature dropping fast, and a forest that may span a thousand hectares was just the starter pack he needed to die in these woods.

Rindou can’t die here. It would just be pathetic. So pathetic that they might make jokes out of it. His death would only make people say he deserved it or it is the consequence of having an unpleasant lifestyle. And honestly, fuck them. He has to live. He has to get out of here and seek shelter before the frost bites his fingers, ears, and toes off. What would his enemies think? What would Bonten do? What would Ran do?

What should he do?

A million thoughts raced through his mind as his knees finally gave away. His eyes fluttered close for a moment, inhaling the cold air sharply that he was quite sure it could cut his nostrils like blades made out of ice. A trail of blood followed him from where he started all the way to the top of the hill. In contrast to the icy atmosphere around him, his lungs burned. During these times, delusions would enter his mind to distract him from the impending doom that was looming above his head. Death was now breathing down his neck as if they were old friends. Its voice called out to him through the chilly breeze that brushed past him and the strong trees that appeared like shadows of those whom he wronged and killed to survive. If he had to guess what hell looked like, this was possibly the closest description minus the flames. Why would such a cold environment bother him in such a way? This has never happened before. He could think of countless reasons why a hybrid such as he who was meant to thrive in such an environment was slowing down.

Ah, that’s right… He never had to be out much to do his dirty deeds. It was always his underlings. Pawns who would readily obey him for various goals. He and Ran, without fail, get away from taxing jobs. After all, meaningless fights never appeased their appetite for violence. Something always had to interest the brothers for them to act. Looking back on those memories of merely partying and finding someone to toy with, Rindou couldn’t help but exhale deeply. His lips were chapped due to the lack of moisture in the air.

If my life is flashing before my eyes, perhaps I am indeed dying…

And yet, amidst the snow and harsh winds, a merciful angel came into view. Rindou thought he was already a goner for his eyes to conjure such a beautiful sight. Vivid colors murked into a blur as his vision steadily failed him due to exhaustion finally catching up to him. However, the second that angel spoke, voice soothing despite the panicked tone evident in it, he realized this was reality.

“Sir? Oh my god, w-wait. I need to call an ambulance—”

“N…o.” It took all of his strength to move his lips and tongue. The woman before him met his dazed stare, shifting her attention between Rindou and something behind her. “No am…bulance…”

“W-what? Why? No, you need immediate attention…”

Haitani Rindou, one of the infamous criminals Bonten has in their arsenal and the fearsome younger brother of Ran was still vulnerable to things that exude innocence. Perhaps it was just in his nature to be drawn toward something he can never be and so he tried to push away the person who came out on a snowy night to help him. This earned him a surprised expression and more questions he couldn't answer. Rindou’s efforts were in vain as his eyelids finally shut, and the last of his energy left him unconscious in the hands of a stranger.

I’m sorry, Ran…

There was a sea of trees you had to drive by to reach your parents’ house. The road was slippery due to the snow but you had to go after promising to drive carefully. After a hearty dinner and entertaining their inquiries about whether you will get married or not, you were set on heading back to your apartment. Tomorrow is Monday and you had to wake up early for your nine-to-five job at the cafe your cousin owned. Normally, your schedule ranged from mundane to the occasional unexpected events that usually revolved around your job or your parents. Yet they were never anything spontaneous or something that will make the hairs on the back of your hair stand until you had to rescue this man now sleeping on a makeshift bed in a veterinarian’s clinic.

Ignorance could sometimes save a person’s life. The second you saw the hanafuda tattoo on his neck, you knew the shit you were about to get into could get messy. Never had you ever thought of bringing an infamous person, let alone one of Bonten’s henchmen, into your home. The veterinarian you called for help swore his secrecy after he commended you for doing first aid, but commented that men like him shouldn’t be saved. Yet, your conscience wouldn’t let you sleep soundly at night if you left him there on a cold winter’s night to bleed to death or get feasted on by bears.

“Are you… his girlfriend or somethin’?”

“No, I’m not,” you responded while cleaning up the bloody clothing and gauze after Rindou’s wound was stitched up. “However, as a human being, I couldn’t just leave him there. I’m… not capable of such cruelty.” The man shifted his attention back to the dangerous person fast asleep and then squinted hard as if his patient was just pretending. Grunting, the veterinarian gathered the last of his tools into his bag and made his way to the door, but not before leaving you some sound advice.

“Be careful because this choice you made might just bite you back. I’ll be back as soon as possible when I find a doctor in the area. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this secret doesn’t reach the authorities.”

Thinking back to what happened earlier, you were sure your blood ran cold at the sight of a broken car by the road. Initially, you thought the vehicle broke down and that the owner must be somewhere nearby since it would take around twenty minutes to get to the nearest town. Unless they had to hitch a ride because it was freezing and decided to leave the car. But the second you saw what seemed to be bullet holes in its body, uneasiness coated your nerves like thick molasses. The dread of finding a dead body doubled upon seeing blood on the snow, leading up to where you found the dying unknown man.

Damn it all. He wouldn’t harm someone who rescued him, right?

No, scratch that, this man wasn’t a stranger to you. You were the stranger—not him. Everybody who worked in Tokyo and heard the news was all aware of Bonten, the most dangerous gang in the country to date, enough to rival the yakuza. Those hanafuda tattoos they branded on their flesh bear the symbol of their loyalty to the man who founded the group, Sano Manjiro. The Haitani brothers were as famous all by themselves. It didn’t have to take you long to know everything they committed under the sun or the veil of night. Rumors of the brothers and Bonten always circulate on the internet. In short, they were individuals you had to avoid to live long.

Eyes glancing at your phone sitting by the couch, you debated whether to call the cops and turn him in. Maybe getting Rindou off your hands will be the first step to having your normal life back… Or will just cement the death sentence he shall bestow upon your unfortunate soul once he recovers.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” you groaned into your hands. Sleep was out of the question. You had to monitor Haitani Rindou for two obvious reasons—one because he might wake up and two because he might silence you the second he does. Gruesome pictures of your death flashed on the television screen ran across your imaginative mind and honestly, you were scaring yourself. Clearly, you didn’t think this through. But, what’s done is done. There was no way you could throw him out now. “Let’s… just make sure he’s fine enough to walk out of here on his own. Y-yeah…”

Exhaling a defeated sigh, you sat down on the floor and stared at Rindou’s unconscious form. For a man as big and bad as him, you bet he would snore loudly. Yet, he looked almost like a corpse—unmoving and quite fragile. The biggest shirt you had at your disposal appeared tiny in his huge frame. The veterinarian even gave up on giving him something to wear on the lower part, muttering how he shouldn’t even be bothered to clothe the criminal. The thought of Rindou being naked down there was slightly distracting, making your eyes wander down from the hanafuda tattoo on his neck to the intricate design on his torso until you slapped your cheeks to make you stop eyeing the muscular hybrid.

What the—don’t do this to yourself. He is a criminal, for fuck’s sake!

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone to check for any messages. There was only one from your mother, checking up on whether you arrived home. A humorless laugh escaped your lips as you lied to her. Besides, she will definitely panic if she knew you were looking after a criminal in a vet’s clinic. You hoped to distract your mind from spiraling into endless regret by watching adorable videos of dogs. A good turn deserves another… You just wished Haitani Rindou was a person who would reward good deeds.

The morning was rough on you. With a stretch or two, you cursed your aching back while you proceeded to order breakfast for three. Your cousin was kind enough to give you a day off after phoning in with a fake cold. The minute you finished offering him apologetic words after lying through your teeth, you then grabbed the takeout and sped off to the clinic Rindou was moved to. Caffeine and sweets were the things keeping you sane save for the veterinarian and a doctor, whom he roped into the situation, present in the room. Dr. Hinohara was silently observing Rindou’s body while giving a blood transfusion to the still-sleeping hybrid. Compared to last night, the younger Haitani looked slightly better. He still appeared like he crawled out of hell and survived, though.

“I guess we don’t have to bring this man to the hospital,” the doctor spoke after some time. “There doesn’t seem to be a bullet stuck to his thigh. He did lose a lot of blood. I’ll just make sure to monitor him in case he needs more blood transfusions and if there could be any infections on the wound. If he does turn for the worst, I will have to bring him to the hospital—”

You were quick to object, leaving your cup of coffee to stand up. “H-he told me he shouldn’t go to a hospital. I’ll pay you, Sir. I’ll make sure to pay you for treating him. J-just don’t bring him there. Please…”

Dr. Hinohara sighed at your statement, sharing a glance with the veterinarian. Just as you were ready to shoot down their suggestions of you putting an end to your good samaritan role, the doctor then nodded solemnly in resignation. Appeased, you backed away before sitting yourself down once again. Seeing that there wasn’t anything left for him to do, the veterinarian excused himself and left the establishment. A few minutes later, Dr. Hinohara did the same to attend to his outpatients. It wasn’t until lunchtime when he came back that you decided to head back home to catch some sleep after a long warm bath. To be in a room alone with Haitani Rindou, awake or not, was making you anxious. Your eyes were often fluttering close, trying to stay conscious and alert in the presence of an infamous gang member. To let your guard down would be serenading death.

“You can come back tomorrow afternoon,” Dr. Hinohara said with a gentle smile upon seeing you out. “I don’t think Mr. Haitani would wake up today anyways. Go home and get some rest. I’ll call you if anything changes about his current condition.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hinohara.”

If you knew that the day you saved Haitani Rindou would be the last time you could ever experience a normal life, perhaps the future wouldn’t turn out like this—with you almost sticking to a corner whereas Rindou glared at your quivering form. Dr. Hinohara was nowhere to be found on the second floor and your mind concocted various scenarios at the sight of the trashed room. How could the man be up and ready to threaten you with his sharp claws when he was just barely conscious days ago? You even recall Dr. Hinohara remarking about Rindou being too weak to open his eyelids. So just how?

Irises sharp as his claws remained on you, hues of ultra violet hoping to unmask your intentions by staring right into your soul. Behind his predatory gaze were promises filled with violence and a whole world of pain if you so much as make a single move that he will deem a crime towards him.

Haitani Rindou was not a man to be trifled with.

“You… Didn’t I tell you not to bring me to a hospital?” he questioned in a demanding tone, taking a step closer to you which prompted your weak legs to fall back. This is the very thing you hoped to avoid. Maybe if you were given the foresight that Haitai Rindou would recuperate enough to stand today, you would have come prepared to negotiate. Negotiate with him not to kill you and to leave you alone because you did what he asked. However, he didn’t seem happy at the idea of recovering in a clinic, afraid his location would be alerted to the police. “What’s the matter? Suddenly can’t use that tongue of yours? From what I remember you weren’t mute—”

“This isn’t a hospital. Y-you’re in a clinic, can’t you see?”

The hand you used to gesture at the area shuddered upon seeing him move. Rindou was obviously confused as he surveyed the room, unsure whether to take your word or not. You couldn't blame him, though. Blood rolling down his thigh akin to raindrops on a glass window captured your attention, taking away the assertive statements off of your lips. Your fear for him was outweighed by your concern for his wound that might have reopened due to his carelessness.

Rindou was quick to create distance between you two. Your eagerness was mistaken as an act to lunge and subdue him which was something you couldn't do. He realized this the moment he winced in pain, hand applying pressure on his bleeding thigh. You clicked your tongue and hurriedly helped him back onto his bed. His hostility towards you disappeared with each pang of pain that erupted around his injury. Of course, he just had to be slowed down by this and for you, this was a blessing in disguise.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll go see if Dr. Hinohara has returned.”

Any deity above must have heard your silent prayer for the doctor announced himself inside Rindou’s room, eyes wide at the condition of his patient and the messy room. Minutes passed, and the hybrid was now waiting for the pain to subside once his wound was attended to. Lips in a tight line, you sat by the side, waiting for the doctor to say something—anything that will get rid of the awkward air that settled in the room. Instead of something positive, Dr. Hinohara approached you with a dejected expression that caused your heart to momentarily stop beating. His next words almost had you wishing you were sitting down due to the implications of it.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t do this since I am a practitioner of medicine and should have empathy for my patients no matter who they are… But I can’t have Mr. Haitani stay here any longer. You must understand. My other patients have caught a whiff of his presence here and are too scared to come over. I-it’s bad for me.” Dr. Hinohara then added to soften the blow, “If he stays over at your place, I-I promise to visit and check on him from time to time. Although, I doubt I could do much since he’s close to full recovery.”

Bullshit.

It was utter bullshit. There was no way his other patients knew about Rindou being treated in the clinic. Based on the days you visited the hybrid when he was still unconscious, everyone who visited the doctor didn’t display any signs of uneasiness. Yet, you couldn’t do anything to appeal for Rindou anymore since the doctor was more than eager to kick him out. For all you know, the hybrid trashing the room was his last straw.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, you turned the stove off and poured the hot soup into two bowls. The Bonten executive sat on the living room couch, watching a daytime show. He was unbothered by the small space of your apartment, thankfully. Rindou barely fussed upon arriving, probably because he did not have any other choice. Even with his infamous reputation, throwing him out was inhumane.

You wanted to help him, but it has been years since you took care of someone sick or injured. Plus, your mother’s temperament was far different from Rindou's.

“You okay with miso soup?”

Rindou merely grunted in response, avoiding your gaze while he took his bowl from you. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his moodiness, you took the seat across from him prior to drinking the soup you made. For the hybrid to keep sulking like this, you figured it was because his wound hasn't fully healed, and limped every time he walked. Men like Rindou hated weakness. To display his vulnerability to you like this must be torture to the mighty snow leopard hybrid—someone who isn't used to being on the other side of the spectrum.

Yet, he never dismissed your acts of assistance. No matter how much you teased him in an attempt to lighten the mood or receive his narrowed gaze, Haitani Rindou never made a move to hurt you during his stay here. Or at least that is what he's trying to do—to lure you into a sense of comfort before he strikes like an apex predator. Nevertheless, you continued to meet his needs.

“You okay?” you asked him when his spoon fell to the floor. Your legs were up and running to get a towel once you saw what happened. He dropped his spoonful of miso soup on his bandages because his limpid eyes couldn’t be torn from the show he claimed was too boring. “Mr. Haitani, you shouldn't pay attention elsewhere while eating.”

“Can’t help it,” he answered with a scoff. A ghost of a laugh slipped past your mouth at the thought of him acting almost like he was a big cat distracted by the pretty colors that led to this situation. Shaking your head, you wiped off the droplets of miso soup from his thigh. After you tossed the towel to the side, you stood up straight and placed your hands on your thighs. Rindou’s tail went stiff at your stare which was accompanied by a smile. “What?”

“Are you… enjoying the show? I thought you found it boring?” The giggle that followed your inquiry did not go unnoticed by the hybrid. The tips of his ears turning red were proof of that. Hearing no reply, you continued to tease him. Your hands are busy fixing up the couch before taking your bowl once more. “I mean, it’s alright to admit you like these soap operas. My mom enjoys them too, you know. Well, not enough to be—”

“I wasn't distracted,” he huffed and averted his gaze at your silly smile. “I was just… surprised.” Rindou never elaborated further on whatever stunned him. You merely shrugged and slurped your soup, content with sitting next to him on a Thursday morning. This has been your life lately—taking care of breakfast and Rindou in the morning, going to work afterward, and then coming back during lunchtime. Despite the reasons you came up with, your cousin never questioned you as to why you requested to come in later than your usual hour. He did, however, tasked you to stay until closing time. A small price to pay. After all, this isn't going to be the norm forever. Rindou will have to go back home and disappear from your life as soon as his wound heal.

Somehow, the reality had sorrow creeping up your heart. Rindou staying in the apartment and seeing him every day made you think he has always been there. His sulky expression softens up whenever his guard is down. He wasn't even aware the corner of his lips was curling up once. The way he dismisses you the second he realized he was showing happiness was cute in its own way. You were used to stifling your laughter at his displeased face that did not match well with his tail swishing side to side. His silhouette blended into your little space, making himself at home. And unbeknownst to you, Rindou felt the same way.

“Don’t act like such a big baby. It’s good for you!” You pushed the plate of rice with natto on top. His irked expression eased down while he took his chopsticks. The smell of the fermented soybeans did not sit well with his nose as he ate to appease you. Yet, he willingly ate, especially with you grinning in front of him. “There you go. That wasn't so hard, was it? Can’t believe a gangster like you dislikes natto.”

Innocent things like you were bad for his health. You were poison to his system—having him think of stuff he never gave a second thought on. Rindou lost count of how many ideas of him whisking you away where no one else can see you crossed his mind. Everything about you exuded a normal and peaceful life—a luxury for him who couldn’t afford it anymore. He should’ve turned you away and let himself die that night because now he didn’t want to leave. His wound was almost closed up and he didn’t have to limp around or ask for your help whenever he bathed. Rindou has grown far too fond of you to merely go back and forget about your kindness. For your sake, he held himself back and enjoyed you doting on him despite the numerous teasing you’ve thrown his way. Pretty but lethal flowers were only meant to be admired from a safe distance. Preferring to keep his claws hidden and the space between you wide, Haitani Rindou liked it this way.

Until he didn’t—until he got greedy.

Dr. Hinohara just had to burst the bubble Rindou protectively held with a single statement that the hybrid was free to go. You couldn’t describe the emotion that swirled within you, ignorant to the deathly stare Rindou gave the doctor. Dr. Hinohara swallowed thickly at the heat of his gaze, slowly taking a step back in case the hybrid decided to kill him on the spot. The younger Haitani wished he could turn back time and stop the old bastard from revealing his secret. Despite sabotaging the stitches for so long to keep it from healing too fast, Rindou’s game was up. And yet, not all of his cards were played.

His trump card has yet to fall onto the table.

Ran came over to your apartment the second Rindou rang him up after a month of no contact. The reunion happened under the stillness of the night where not a soul could be found on the streets. The chloroform his older brother brought was put to use to make sure you wouldn't scream or do any trouble as he placed you in Ran’s car. Rindou then discarded the baton hidden at the back of the trunk, already cleaned off of Dr. Hinohara’s blood, into the nearest waste bin before letting Ran drive down the road heading south.

The moment you woke up from what you thought was a terrible nightmare, you were chained to a bedpost in an unfamiliar room in someone else’s bed. The collar on your neck was a bit tight and the chain attached to it wasn't long enough for you to reach the door. A little bell was hanging on the collar and it jingled with every movement you made. You thanked your lucky stars that you were still fully clothed but that feeling of relief waned away too fast. Your head pounded while your eyes frantically searched for signs of where you are. Rindou entered the room with a tray of food. His eyes slightly went wide at the discovery of you greeting the conscious world then his lips broke out into a grin.

“I see you’re awake.”

“R-Rindou? W-what… Where am I? What’s going on?”

Your inquiries fell from your mouth like the teardrops on your cheeks at the realization. Rindou hushed you multiple times while he set your meal down on the nightstand but you never took heed, fearing for your life. It wasn't until he took out his phone to show you a picture of your parent’s house that your tongue felt like it was made out of metal. Your hands balled up into fists at the image.

“Don’t hurt them. P-please…”

“Looks like you're smart enough to guess what I’m implying here, huh?” Rindou chuckles at your horrified tear stricken face. “I guess calling you a big baby right now won’t be satisfying.” Hand underneath his chin, the hybrid let out a contented sigh. “I knew I was right. Other girls I’ve met before weren't as intelligent as you. Saves me from explaining what will happen to your family if you try to escape.”

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, nerves and voice shaky. His irises shone brighter than amethysts as he observed you on his bed. After a month of nursing him back to health, Rindou was intent on returning the favor—just without outside interference, of course. There was no way your parents would allow him to date you and to see you with a faceless nobody would be the icing on top of his cake meant to insult him. He can't have that. “Rindou, what do you want? I-I’ll do anything! Just please leave me and my parents alone. If you want an apology for all those days I’ve teased you or said something wrong, I’m w-will to do so!”

“Nothin’ much, angel. I’ve passed the need for anything.” He then pulled you up by the collar of your shirt. Leaning down to whisper into your ear, Rindou’s lips curled up. “I’ve already got you.” The second he spoke those words, a shiver ran down your spine. Not giving you any time to collect your thoughts or to wipe the tears from your cheeks, the Bonten executive took a step back and gestured at your clothes. “Strip.”

Hands trembling, you did as he said. More tears exited from your glossy eyes which Rindou couldn't wait to lick away. As soon as you got rid of your pajamas, you covered your exposed stomach and breasts until he clicked his tongue. You winced at the sound of it.

“All of it, angel.”

You heaved a deep breath. Your panties slid down your legs agonizingly slow. The rest of your body burned in shame under his piercing gaze. It was as if Rindou would be struck by lightning if he dared to look away from your gorgeous form. You steeled yourself once he took away your clothes.

“Go and eat your meal. I’ll be back.”

Rindou shut the door behind him. You couldn't stop crying even while you ate the meal he prepared. It was hard to know where you were as the window was bolted shut and barely let natural light in. Your heart beats wildly inside your chest whereas you stiffened at the sight of him returning. His violet irises landed on the empty plate before nodding approvingly.

“Good. I’m going to give you a drink now.” He took off the chain from the bedpost and pulled it for you to follow him. But not before commanding you to do it on all fours. His sharp canines peeked out when he smiled at your obedience. The fear strumming its chaotic cords to have you obeying the hybrid. “That’s it, angel. Make sure not to bump into anything on the way to the kitchen.”

Even with Rindou as your sole audience, your soul was close to dying out of shame. Your pussy folds were out in the open, clit throbbing uncontrollably for the wrong reasons as you followed him from behind. It didn't take you long to figure out this was Rindou’s house—or his temporary home. You were too busy making sure you were keeping up with his huge steps and not falling behind to scan your surroundings. The hybrid then paused and turned to you. His hand gestured to a bowl made for a pet sitting on the floor. It was filled up with what seemed to be milk.

“Go on. Drink it all up, angel.”

Cheeks burning, you hesitated for a second. It was when he walked behind you that the panic kicked in again and you unwillingly bent down. Your tongue was stuck out, ready to lick up the milk to appease Rindou, deaf to the sound of unzipping. The palm of his hand was cold against your cunt, causing you to yelp. His free hand was quick to keep your head from turning around to see him.

What the fuck is happening?

“You’re not the only one who’s thirsty… Shit, you’re wet?” He was more amused than disgusted at his findings. This was fucked up. There was no way you were turned on despite what occurred. Maybe you were sick in the head all this time and Rindou’s actions just brought this to light? You would never know as your mind started to grow hazy due to the pleasure of him rubbing his palm across your slit. You were no virgin but it has been a long time since you’ve done it. Perhaps that was the reason why?

Why does it feel like that’s a lie?

Retracting his claws, he plunged two of his fingers into your warm pussy that parted easily for him. Front teeth digging into your lower lip, you kept back the moan bubbling up your throat while Rindou rubbed his fingers against your tight walls. Slick coated his hand which made it easier for him to feel around your gummy walls. His pleased groans were too much for your ears, his hard length brushing on your ass. His tail swished around before curling around your leg. Your hands keeping you upright were trembling as the onslaught of bliss was increasing, gaze glossy.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight… Are you going to let me fuck you, angel? Huh? Does my pet deserve this dick?” he questioned with mirth in his tone. Another finger was added, widening your hole. You couldn’t help the whine leaving your lips, eyes shut as you fought back more from coming out. Rindou held you by the waist when your legs gave out, cooing into your ear. The hybrid brought up his hand coated with your juices, inhaling it then tasted your slick. “It’s that good? I’ve waited so long. Held back and let you have your way. You’ll let me have you, mhm? Been good, angel. The least you can do is return the favor…” A silent gasp was what Rindou earned when he tapped the head of his cock against your pussy folds, rubbing his length on the damp flesh. Slowly, he entered you.

“A-are you gonna—ah!” You were sure he was going to tear you apart. It stung as the girth of his cock stroked your tight muscles, molding its shape there. Rindou took a few seconds to get accustomed to the way your pussy enveloped his dick, hissing under his breath at how heavenly you felt. And now that he has finally held you, Haitani Rindou was damn sure he has found his mate. Now, he will make sure to keep you by his side whether you want to or now. He’ll just have to give you something that will make you reluctant to leave… Or fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk out of this place without him. Maybe getting you pregnant will be the solution to this problem. “Ah, fuck… S’ big. R-rindou!”

“Angel, wanna give you cubs. You’d want that, huh? You want to be mine?”

His thrusts were hard and rough, causing you to moan and squirm. Lust rendered you blind as you took and took what Rindou gave. Time was no longer relevant at this point. All you could remember as he continued to fuck you like a savage beast during the mating season was the way his claws dug into your skin, marking you as his. The place’s layout slowly etched itself into your mind as he made it his mission to fuck you in every area with the endeavor of filling up your womb until all you could feel was his cum running down your thighs. Your breasts and nipples hurt after going through the abuse done by his mouth. Hickeys littered your torso and the skin of your neck. Clit and folds puffy, you couldn’t tell how many times you have squirted. Rindou always patted your head each time before tugging your nipples in a teasing way. The collar still wrapped around your neck jingled along with your breasts, soaked with your sweat and tears.

“R-Rindou! I-I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, angel. You can take more.”

He never gave you a break or a minute to rest and catch your breath. The moment he finished inside you, his balls emptied another load, replacing the cum he spurted into your cunt that dribbled out. Mind all in a mush, you sobbed at the overstimulation. Finally, the hybrid set you down on the couch, panting above you. A puddle of your essence and Rindou’s cum sat around your ass. The furniture wasn’t the only unfortunate victim of its owner’s quest to impregnate you and claim you. Mouth wide open, your eyes were fluttering shut due to exhaustion. Yet even as you stared at Rindou with those tired eyes, he held his cock glazed with both of your fluids right in front of your face in expectancy. The tip was red and super sensitive after hitting your cervix countless times while he fucked your brains out.

“Don’t tap out on me, angel,” he mumbled. Mustering up all your leftover strength, you sat up and licked on the reddish tip, earning a pleased groan. His hand reached forward to brush away the strands of hair from your face then carded his fingers through them. “Good girl. Always remember this, okay? Good kittens should clean up after playing. Good kittens shouldn’t make a mess.”

[sketchguk]

The inspiration behind Part time lover is spyxfamily right? Cause that's what first struck me the most when I first read the synopsis. Lol

Yeah it's a spy x fam au !! It was hard to summarize knowing that the story is so complex. Nobody asked, but here's a snippet <3

...

“Jeongguk, do you happen to be looking for a wife?” 

He leans forward, inclined to hear your proposal. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

You wonder if this is a bad time to mention his Tinder profile. It could be a little awkward knowing that you’ve also made an account on that wretched app. There’s nothing inherently embarrassing about wanting to find love through modern dating, but why is it so hard to admit it?

You weigh your options in your head, but Jeongguk beats you to it. 

“Because if you did 一 ya’ know 一 ask me out, I would have said-” His words are cut short.

“You know what? I'm sorry if I was being too forward-” Mentally, you want to smack yourself on the forehead.

Jeongguk didn’t mention anything about a girlfriend, let alone a wife. He has no idea that you’ve seen his Tinder before. You never even swiped. You never matched.

After you found his profile, you tucked your phone away and refused to open the app again. The blissful state of not knowing is better than playing the waiting game. Will he swipe, will he not? Will he message you and jumpstart some epic romance?

You decide to tell him the truth and swallow your pride before coming across as a complete weirdo wrapped up in her delusions.

“It’s just that… the other day, my friends made a dating profile for me because they’re worried I’ll be single for the rest of my life. I came across your account, and I thought you looked familiar. So I just wanted to know if you’re actually looking for a wife because I swear, I’ll do it.” 

Jeongguk has never been this close to making a breakthrough, and he thinks he’s half in love with you. “Are you being serious?” He wonders as a precaution. “Don’t lie to me because I really need this to be a dream come true right now.” 

His daughter reaches forward to pinch his cheeks. Jeongguk winces at the pain, and he’s certain that this moment is real. 

“Do you want me to get down on one knee?” Your face is devoid of any banter, eyes fixed on Jeongguk as if you’re genuinely offering yourself to him. “Why do you need a wife? Tax money? Green card? Ex who won’t leave you alone?” 

“It’s complicated,” Jeongguk begins.

[andizoidart]

I’m just going to give some terrible Idol Geno lore:

Geno in the Idol AU was around for a while longer than some of the newer upcoming Idols.

He had Three Tours, Six Albums, and One collaborative album with Outkast.

His stage name is/was Ouroboros.

His three tours: The Infinity Tour, The Bucket List Tour, and the One For The Road Tour.

I have named every single Album and each song title within it (that’s going under a cut)

He was always chronically ill and disabled. His issue was that the longer he was performing, his conditions started to progress in severity. Closer to the end of his touring, he couldn’t even stand on the stage, having to sit on a stool to perform. And it was so obvious that he didn’t feel well, but he loved doing it.

He always put so much effort into his performances, specifically wardrobing and scenery/set design. He wanted everything to be an experience, not just him on stage.

He knows a variety of instruments from the amount of time he had to himself being homeschooled due to illness, and would write every part of his songs himself, all the musical scores.

One of his biggest pleasures is going to other Idols’ concerts and collecting their merchandise. He loves watching budding artists grow and express themselves, and would always be open to helping any of them with anything or giving advice.

Idol Geno’s Albums and tracklist:

Ouroboros - Into The Underworld Tracks:

All Things Must Pass

In Loving Memory

Big Fish, Small Pond

Better Late Than Never

Cut & Run

Dropping Like Flies

Flesh & Blood

Head Over Heels

Kiss Of Death

One-Stop Station

Half-Hearted

Stars & Garters

——

Ouroboros - (A) Fate Worse Than Death Tracks:

Accidents Will Happen

Backroom Boy

Barking Dogs Never Bite

Cold Shoulder

Method in Madness

Forty Winks

Graveyard Shift

Young Man’s Fancy

Eye Spy

Living on Borrowed Time

Canteen Culture

Pipe Dream City

Goodnight, Vienna

Nothing Is Certain But Death & Taxes

Counting Starfish

——

Ouroboros - À La Carte, À La Mode Tracks:

Fool’s Paradise

Forbidden Fruit

Under Wraps

Bag and Baggage

Darkest Hour

Bone Dry

Topsy Turvy

Kiss & Tell

Kangaroo Court

——

Ouroboros - Delusions Of Grandeur Tracks:

Mackerel Sky

Dreams of Empires

Big Wig

Alter Ego

Mind’s Eye

Paper Tiger

Everybody Out

Devil’s Advocate

Jump The Gun

Kiss Me Hard

Wick & Wax

——

Ouroboros - Dead As A Doornail Track:

Weakest Link

Ball & Chain

Faint Hearted

Nine Days’ Wonder

Moth To A Flame

Limbo Serenade

Give The Devil His Dues

Feeding Frenzy

Doom & Gloom

Nest Of Vipers

Curiousity Killed The Cat

Famous Last Words

——

Ouroboros- Basket Case (Singles Collection) Tracks:

Bolt From The Blue

Double Dutch

Cookie Cutter

Foul Play

Manic Panic!

Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Call Of The Wild

——

Outkast x Ouroboros - Thick As Thieves Tracks:

Labor of Love

Knock on Wood

Penny Dreadful

One-Hit Wonder

Lamb To The Slaughter

Riff-Raff Roly-Poly

Mad Dogs

Nutcase

Get Used To It

Last But Not Least

[clonerightsagenda]

Ok I am finally getting back on the horse (posting about the FMA student government AU). It is time... for plot.

To consolidate information from previous posts, Father/Chancellor Bradley left a trail of corporate destruction and embezzlement in his wake before taking on the chancellorship at a large state university where Hohenheim works. Hohenheim went "absolutely not" and started taking sabbaticals to try to collect proof of his twin's misdeeds. Father kept up with the misdeeds and contracted with the military to have the chemistry program produce some crowd control gas that ended up being harmful. The chemistry students working on the gas suspected that it could have those effects but most didn't leave the lab, fearful of the ramifications that choice could have on their education, stipend, and future career.

When the gas was used on civilians, students protested, including Scar's brother. Having a chemistry background himself, he suspected administration might have known the danger - which they absolutely did - and came close to uncovering that the military had contracted for a weapon the whole time. Before he could get all the details, though, he was expelled and deported as the chancellor's son and undergrad student president helped crack down on protestors. Now that son is back and running for graduate student president, and chem student Roy is running against him to atone for his past mistakes and prevent more such atrocities and also because he loves attention.

Ed and Al do independent study in Roy's lab, where instead of supervising them Roy spends most of his time scheming and bitching about administration with his friends. The Elrics are a little too competent to fill all their independent study hours doing titrations, so Roy starts having them do minor tasks for his campaign. They're bored enough to do it and don't really care who wins - their interactions with their cousins are minimal, besides that Ed and Envy occasionally run into each other in the Hot Topic near campus. (They have probably squabbled over the last MCR shirt a few times.)

Ling gets involved via the Elrics after hearing Ed complain about Roy's delusions of grandeur during their tutoring sessions. As part of his 12 step plan to taking over his father's corporation, he wants to add student government president to his own resume in a few years. For now, experience with a campaign and connections in graduate government would be an asset. Greed, naturally, wants to stick it to his brother.

Father enlists his more cooperative children to assist Wrath's campaign - Lust through her many committee contacts, Envy by hacking Hughes' social media accounts and getting him suspended. Pride is, again, a child and blameless in this debacle.

Meanwhile, Mei has met Scar and bonded over devotion to small, cute animals, and Al eventually meets Scar through her. There's a bit of nastiness with Winry (obviously Scar did not murder her parents; this is a college AU. Maybe he makes a dismissive comment about them pulling a white savior routine?) but Al is intrigued by the suggestion that his brother found something suspicious. He's been feeling a little faint this semester and needs something to work on less taxing than Ed hassling innocent passerby with campaign fliers, so he heads to the university archives. (Scar can't go because he has been trespassed from so many university buildings.) The information has been partly redacted but a) higher ups rarely care about or understand archives anyway and b) most archival materials these days are processed using MPLP (more product less process) to work through backlogs quickly. It's easy for something to slip past. Last time I used university records I found so many uncensored social security numbers. Luckily Al makes contact with a former archival intern who got dismissed because of her insistence on reading every slip of paper, and she points him in the right direction.

This is all leading up to election day, also the day faculty senate is going to meet to hear Hohenheim's presentation, also the day of a solar eclipse. I was in college when we had a total solar eclipse and nobody shut up about it for several months prior. You can't go anywhere without someone waving off brand eclipse glasses in your face. Greed bought some because he thought they made him look cool and immediately walked into a wall.

As election day draws near, Lust and Gluttony have already bailed because Lust saw the writing on the wall. Olivier has reluctantly endorsed Roy because she's decided she hates Wrath more. Al keeps getting dizzy spells and not telling his brother about it. Ed has gotten really into campaigning because he can run around yelling at people. And Hohenheim finally has the evidence he needs to prove his twin is up to no good, although his children are not impressed by his halfhearted greeting when he finally shows up on campus again.

Then it's election day, and everything goes to hell. That post... tomorrow? We shall see.

[moonfurthetemmie]

I’ve already forgotten how much about it here and how much I only wrote in the notes for the AU, but Phrikeh’s economy is kinda fucked up rn

Since the whole point of taking over from Delusion was to be a better ruler than him, Byte’s trying to actually be a halfway decent queen. She’s mostly doing a reasonable job (aside from some really odd things happening and some things now being punishable by death. Which is not discouraging the rumors that she and Slash, if not also Pluto, were murderers), too.

Having been a non-Royal citizen for most of her life, Byte’s very much aware of some of the actually serious problems in the kingdom that she now has the power to get fixed. And she’s prioritizing the worst of them! The people are actually quite happy about this

But she’s gotta pay for all of it to be fixed. And she’s never even SEEN this much money in her life before. So she’s not being super responsible. Slash isn’t any better. Pluto could be but he’s not. He didn’t realize how long it took to build up the treasury to where it had been.

Byte raises taxes some (and after all she’s done to fix stuff, most people are actually okay with this), but they know she can’t raise it too much because not everyone can afford that and if she makes people go broke because of taxing she’s doing.

So they’re trying to figure something else out.

Pluto says the best option is to get a trade agreement with some place that can pay good money for whatever they’re offering, but they don’t have much that they aren’t already exporting or is unique enough to them to justify a price over the going market rates.

So while they attempt to figure that out, they have turned to some less noble solutions

Which Hunter gets in on

If Byte ever needs to visit another kingdom on royal business, and it’s not someone they’re already allied with, she’ll have Hunter poke around their hosts’ castle. If she’s hoping to make a new political or trade friend, that’s the extent of it to start with. But if she decides, before arriving or after talking to them, that she doesn’t like them and won’t be making any kind of agreement with them, she has Hunter stuff as much of their money into a bag as he can in about five minutes, tops.

Slash also “borrows” some of the more expensive finery. Which Hunter sells for them. Under a fake name.

The only reason they don’t also steal from their allies and existing trade partners is because they know that’s the fastest way to loose those allies and trade partners. Not that they’re not tempted to. Every so often they seriously consider risking it, but they don’t. They’re not ready to deal with that shitstorm. They’re already on thin ice

No one’s been able to prove anything, but most of the places the royal posse has visited are real sure those little shits stole from them. And the rumors spread. And since Byte was completely unheard of to Phrikeh’s allies until she became queen, none of them are willing to give her the benefit of the doubt just yet. Especially because of how she gained the throne.

Girl took a very rigorous queenly etiquette class (tm) in the first week of her rule, and she’s very gracious and accommodating if they ever come to visit (and she’s screaming mentally the whole time, because she has to play 4D chess about all of it. Can you people not just fucking talk straight and say what you mean??? Gods above.), so it’s pretty much just that she came out of nowhere and pushed Delusion out of the way.

Pluto…they were never a big fan of him. And the feeling’s mutual! But they’re not sure he wouldn’t stoop low enough to steal from them.

He would. But he’s the one who said it was a bad idea, if they wanted to keep their allies. Which they probably should.

Especially since Aphotia has been beating the war drums and trying to take over pretty much the entire world. A sudden change in leadership, especially one that caused so much upheaval, would be a very good opportunity to invade.

[baekhvuns]

I was dreading to open your blog and read your reply, cause I knew the slander would be too much 😐😐😐😐 I'm simply closing my eyes. Blocking the haters (aka user baekhvuns). I actually stayed up late to watch the match and it was not worth it, thankfully Sanhwa went live and their Lego shenanigans were more exciting 💀 I kept yelling "wake up, Madrid, Ancelotti use your fucking brain and Gavi get off the pitch!". Benzema in his salty era, yikes, I know he's mad that his goal was offside and so am I, but come on.

Moving on........

I just hope that if the allegations against Gr**nw**d are true, the girl won't go through the same shit again. 🙃

Yeah the Atiny I met has been following Atz around since last year, that's why I blocked her and stopped interacting with her recently. She's not dangerous, but how manu times do you have to see them? That Judy girl is so fucked, she thinks she's doing something??? And is besties with NCT???

Fucking LSM destroying his own company, ffs I've always said he'd be the downfall of SM. Chris Lee what a dumb greedy bitch, no wonder these two are related. But speaking of dumb people. The delusion and saviour complex is huuuuuge. And did you see that "SM with Hybe" Twitter account???

Avocados don't like snow so I'm not shocked your uni closed ajshaisshhajahwkkaa. Pls stay inside it's safer and cosier 😭. Omfg knife crime typical London behaviour, sigh. Paris is bad too lol, not the safest place, Berlin is better, but the city is also on my shitlist, too privileged. Kai you don't need to go there

"Your guys's hierarchy" hey, don't group me with them Brits, I'm just an outsider who has been studying the UK behaviour for years 😭 Brummie accent was once voted the least appealing, but foreigners are obsessed with it cause of PB, so hilarious. I like beans on toast, I'm afraid... BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ME BRITISH OKAY.

I remember when Hwa apologised he couldn't dye his hair black yet, because of Imitation?!?!? Some people had the audacity to comment on the grey hair 🔫🔫🔫🔫

Cornish accent is sometimes called "the most American of UK's accents" but they're not like deep South, Cornwall is nice and fun! I guess the difference between most Southern English accents and Cornish is that they roll their "Rs". I have some friends from there, one got into performing school as a child and they asked her mother if she could "get rid of the village accent" huh?! She wasn't even from a village

Breaking Wommys hearts kusuahsjsjauaah but I'm not complaining 🥰 yes to fencer or racer Hwa

WHAT did you just say about the nose 🔫🔫🔫 my feelings are soft, I just wanna perform some cannibalism ok. let me bite Seonghwa's nose in peace!

Finally some Atz x fashion interaction! Seonghwa next pls 🤗

Liking anything when you're over 25 is illegal Baek, so have fun while it lasts. Later it's just taxes, mortgage, 2 shifts etc. no happy days in sight 🤗

Everyone's screaming shaking and crying trying to find Seonghwa's winter MD, but ever since I saw the blurred previews I knew I had to have him, so I'm safe! I'M GONNA EAT HIM I REALLY WILL!!!! THE HEART BLUSH?!?!?!? I'M UNWELL

This is bad for me, a cat boys enthusiast 🙄

Pls look away OP, you don't need to perceive him. In constant battle with myself, because I wanna gatekeep Seonghwa, but also want everyone to know and praise him 🤧

My rockstar gf! and Mingi toooooo

I'm on the floor actually. The 2nd photo 🥴🥴🥴🥴

👀👀👀 but girlie was stressed msjsjdjsjabsnswjsh

Hwa is watching The Alchemy of Souls, I won. Also TAoS Hwa AU...... 😊

And can we talk about KQF2 name... it's pronounced"SAIKERS"?! Say XIKE lmaoooo - DV 💖

hello!!

I was dreading to open your blog and read your reply, cause I knew the slander would be too much 😐😐😐😐 I'm simply closing my eyes. Blocking the haters (aka user baekhvuns). I actually stayed up late to watch the match and it was not worth it, thankfully Sanhwa went live and their Lego shenanigans were more exciting 💀 I kept yelling "wake up, Madrid, Ancelotti use your fucking brain and Gavi get off the pitch!". Benzema in his salty era, yikes, I know he's mad that his goal was offside and so am I, but come on. Moving on……..

anon… ur in for a ride,,, both ur teams LMFAOOO 😭😭😭😭 BARCA COOKED!!!! HUMILIATION? HUMILIATION !!!!! AND WITHOUT OUR MAJOR PLAYERS???? GETFOOO AGAINST THE SAME REAL MADRID??? HELP RHQKDHQKDHKW TAKE GAVI OUT???? TAKE VINI OUT BRO WAS WWE-ING ON THE GROUND AND DIDN’T GET A RED AND DISRESPECTING THE REF???? 🔫🔫🔫 and now the second leg with pedri, dembele, lewa ???? cOOKING !!!! forever rm’s owners <;3 no wonder they got bodied

mOVING ON DEBKBJFBJQ TO THIS

and man united ??? 7-0??? LMFAOOOO?????? WHAT THE FUCK???  THIS IS TERRIBLE FHWNHDK

I just hope that if the allegations against Grnwd are true, the girl won't go through the same shit again. 🙃 /// Yeah the Atiny I met has been following Atz around since last year, that's why I blocked her and stopped interacting with her recently. She's not dangerous, but how manu times do you have to see them? That Judy girl is so fucked, she thinks she's doing something??? And is besties with NCT???

tbh i hope someone finds a loophole in the case and gets him to be held accountable, his careers def gone & he’s def not playing for the england national team 🤚🏻 they’re already shit wouldn’t want them to become even more,,,

anon ur friends are 👁questionable👁 NOOO SRS THE NCT JUDY GIRLIE WHAT IN THE WORLD ???? hoping sm sues her bc what tf?? their bodyguards need to bodyslam her some sense

????? he’s nicer than me fr

Fucking LSM destroying his own company, ffs I've always said he'd be the downfall of SM. Chris Lee what a dumb greedy bitch, no wonder these two are related. But speaking of dumb people. The delusion and saviour complex is huuuuuge. And did you see that "SM with Hybe" Twitter account???

THEYRE SO 😭😭😭 WHAT EVEN IS THIS “kpop is slowing down” it never was that famous to begin with!!! its really mostly on twt which for some = worldwide,,, but i have to say even those not remotely into kpop know solder sm groups,, i wonder why kpop slowed down,,, maybe bc everything is about achievements now 🔫🔫 the saviour complex of this company and man needs to be studied,, the music quality deteriorated and now mr hybe will come to save it with it’s auto tune <3 one thing i liked about sm was the insane music quality they had,,, doing this shitshow online is so tragic to see,,, I DID AND WHAT THE ABSOLUTE SHIT IS THAT 😭😭😭😭 the artists coming on their bubble to say “i don’t know what’s happening but im with u” bro 😭😭😭

Avocados don't like snow so I'm not shocked your uni closed ajshaisshhajahwkkaa. Pls stay inside it's safer and cosier 😭. Omfg knife crime typical London behaviour, sigh. Paris is bad too lol, not the safest place, Berlin is better, but the city is also on my shitlist, too privileged. Kai you don't need to go there

WILL DO 🫡 no bc wth is this knife problem in uk 😭😭😭 there’s so many true crime cases on it like??? kINVES BELONG IN THE KITCHEN KEEP THEM THERE! i feel like france and ny is the same thing,, the pickpocketing 😭🤚🏻 speaking of berlin,,, is this an accurate representation FBKWHDKW

"Your guys's hierarchy" hey, don't group me with them Brits, I'm just an outsider who has been studying the UK behaviour for years 😭 Brummie accent was once voted the least appealing, but foreigners are obsessed with it cause of PB, so hilarious. I like beans on toast, I'm afraid… BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ME BRITISH OKAY.

YEAH SO TECHNICALLY UR A BRIT 🔫 u become what u eat and live in 🤚🏻 no bc the brummie accent, and the nottingham accent how DO U EVEN UNDERSTAND THEM one of my cousins is from nottingham and she spoke to me and i ???? went pass my head,, so fast i just stared at her nodded <3 STOPPPPP THATS SO NASTY MY FATHER HAS AN OBSESSION WITH THE BEANS ON TOAST WHY DO U ALL EAT LIKE ITS STILL WW1 COME ON 😭😭😭 UR BRITISH RBWMDHWK PEAK BRITISH

sorry what is this  

I remember when Hwa apologised he couldn't dye his hair black yet, because of Imitation?!?!? Some people had the audacity to comment on the grey hair 🔫🔫🔫🔫

some people should have their rights taken away

Cornish accent is sometimes called "the most American of UK's accents" but they're not like deep South, Cornwall is nice and fun! I guess the difference between most Southern English accents and Cornish is that they roll their "Rs". I have some friends from there, one got into performing school as a child and they asked her mother if she could "get rid of the village accent" huh?! She wasn't even from a village

AHHHHHHH hopefully they’re not just exactly like how americans are personality wise,, NOT THE VILLAGE ACCENT NOOOO 😭😭😭😭yOU GUYS ARE BRUTAL CALLING THEM OUT ON EVERYTHING 😭😭

Breaking Wommys hearts kusuahsjsjauaah but I'm not complaining 🥰 yes to fencer or racer Hwa /// WHAT did you just say about the nose 🔫🔫🔫 my feelings are soft, I just wanna perform some cannibalism ok. let me bite Seonghwa's nose in peace!

wommy’s need to be shown their place 🤚🏻 not but there’s seriously like no woo fics in atiny writing community now 😭😭 fencer hwa and a racer hwa,, but what about a hockey player hwa <33 I SAID NOTHING ???? WHAT DID U READ 📸💥📸💥 📸 i saw this video the other day that explained ur liking for vampires i WILL find it by the next time i answer this HOPEFULLY why bite when u can take a seat

Finally some Atz x fashion interaction! Seonghwa next pls 🤗 /// Liking anything when you're over 25 is illegal Baek, so have fun while it lasts. Later it's just taxes, mortgage, 2 shifts etc. no happy days in sight 🤗

FINALLY!!!!!! BALMAIN AMBASSADOR SOON 🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻 seonghwa and of mingi for versace ?? would pass out,, LMFAOOOO will use my 20’s as a excuse to travel and live my yn moment <3 anon how’d ur mortgage going, how’s the job? HOWS KR BEEN

Everyone's screaming shaking and crying trying to find Seonghwa's winter MD, but ever since I saw the blurred previews I knew I had to have him, so I'm safe! I'M GONNA EAT HIM I REALLY WILL!!!! THE HEART BLUSH?!?!?!? I'M UNWELL

U ORDERED IT RIGHT???? GOD BLESS U IM ON MY WAY HIDE UR DOOR UR KIDS UR CATS UR PC’S IM ON MY WAY he looks like he’s about to join a furry con / star in a red velvet mv

This is bad for me, a cat boys enthusiast 🙄//// Pls look away OP, you don't need to perceive him. In constant battle with myself, because I wanna gatekeep Seonghwa, but also want everyone to know and praise him 🤧

OP TRUST ME HE’S MEAN ASF FUCK DONT STAN HIM LEAVE HIM ALONE 🔫🔫

My rockstar gf!  and Mingi toooooo /// I'm on the floor actually. The 2nd photo 🥴🥴🥴🥴 //// 👀👀👀 but girlie was stressed msjsjdjsjabsnswjsh

no bc how dare they do this photoshoot for japanese albums and not for korean ones! WHY ARE THEY SO EXPENSIVE AND THIS???? 😩😩 seonghwa for calvin klein when

Hwa is watching The Alchemy of Souls, I won. Also TAoS Hwa AU……😊 //// And can we talk about KQF2 name… it's pronounced"SAIKERS"?! Say XIKE lmaoooo - DV 💖

STOP STOP IVE BEEN CRYING OVER THAT DRAMA FBWMFBWKFHWKHDWCJCKCKCKCI KEPT THINKING ABOUT SEONGHWA IN IT 😭😭 nOW HOW DO WE SAY THAT NAME??? SHAKERS??? HIKERS??? saikers???? 😭😭😭😭

anon we’re finally getting the return of shoujo with stunning animation 😭😭

just, JUST WHEN I THOUGHT U COULD NOT HATE THIS COMPANY EVEN MORE

hot take, but they’re kinda right

[eldritchcuddles]

January* Wordcount tracking

*yes I’m aware it’s the middle of February don’t judge me >.<

Total January Wordcount: 7384 words Posted: nix! but I spent a chunk of January sick and the rest of it underwater at work, so it's not exactly a shock in spite of me doing my best to make it otherwise. Slowly chugging back into the swing of things now that the holidays are over and in theory so is the worst of the tax season prep garbage please let it be over i am  S O  tired orz IN PROGRESS: There’s a place I’ve seen where the soul burns clean: 6150 words  \(^o^)/ Self Indulgence Sandbox (most people live founders era AU + transmigration AU and a whole bunch of super self indulgent shenanigans): 461 words SVSSS surprise bunny (modern/urban fantasy AU, I guess? idek man this came out of nowhere I was possessed by the spirit of Airplane-jiujiu or something): 773 words

Sneak Peeks: 

> There's a place I've seen where the soul burns clean < "Get your hands off of me," Izuna snapped, trying to shove his way upright again. "If I can  make you lay down, Izuna-san, fighting people stronger than me is   pointless," Haruka told him, tipping him mercilessly back down onto his futon while Fuyubi - the old traitor - watched and didn't lift a finger or speak a word in his defense. "Is that your official medical opinion?" Fuyubi knew him well enough to hear the danger in his tone and gave him a   sharp look, but again, didn't say anything. Hn. Well, maybe the old man just preferred to let other people make their own mistakes. He could accept that. "What, don't slow your recovery with stupid fights? Does it need to be?" "It sounds to me like before I can be allowed out of your care to fight anyone else, first I have to prove I can beat you." Haruka's ability to mask her feelings really suffered if you caught her by   surprise, Izuna reflected, basking in the sudden and obvious look of realization followed by intense and instant regret that flashed across her face. "Uh."

> Self Indulgence Sandbox <

Her face had felt like her face, but how was she supposed to have known what that meant? She looked more like herself than she would have expected, still with her sharp chin and strong jawline, angular cheeks and eyebrows and faintly hooked blade of a nose. Her features were maybe a bit awkward with youth now, but she figured she would probably grow into them again. She was more likely to grow into someone more handsome than pretty, mitigating factors of the apparently mandatory Uchiha prettiness aside.

The upward sweep and angles of her left eye were more or less the same fox eye shape that she’d always had. Her right eye had always been slightly rounder, just another weird effect of the general distortion of that side of her face. Now she had one fox eye and one plum blossom eye, and that of all things was what was making her trip over herself as she studied the face that was now hers, but wasn’t.

She thought transmigration was supposed to start you as a baby? What was this nonsense with her having to get used to a new face and body during puberty? She did her time with this already! There better be some damn good perks to compensate her for having to do this again!!

… Okay so she was starting with a fully unlocked version of one of the most powerful kekkei genkai in the world, so. Maybe that was her compensation.

Still, she was a teenager again, and it was bad enough the first time. She really didn’t want to do it again, but the alternative seemed to be dying, so she’d make the best of it.

And it could be worse, at least she didn’t seem to have a System like some of those novels had that gave her secret quests and restrictions and shit, that would suck a lot.

> SVSSS Surprise Bunny < "This is the guy that regularly makes you cry from being mean about your writing that you freely admit is shit churned out to keep you in crap discount noodles and stuff. Totally understand why you'd want some troll with delusions of being a literary sophisticate to know where you live, people that get off on feelings of superiority over stupid shit are usually great IRL buds." Wow, that was rich coming from her, although Airplane valued his life too highly to say that to Miss Sha's perfectly made-up little face. "... Did you just say eye are ell like... did you just do that?" She put one of her claws fingers in his face and he gulped, going a little cross eyed trying to track both the potential murder-talon and what she was saying. "You have no room to talk about being internet poisoned, first off, and second off, this is about you and your shitty security decisions, not my unique and quirky idiolect." Yep, she'd been spending a lot of time around Liu Mingyan again, huh. It was  always funny hearing the younger demon generations picking up modern  slang. If Airplane wouldn't have ended up super dead almost as soon as he arrived, he'd love to see how their royal demon families handled the generation gap getting so much more dramatic now that their realms were in conjunction again for the first time in he didn't care how many thousand years. He was willing to bet that Lord Sha would shrug it off, but Mobei-jun's uncle? His dad? Hilarious. Not that Mobei-jun hardly ever spoke around him, so Airplane's assumptions about him acquiring modern speech patterns were mostly theoretical, but it was funny! He could maybe use it as inspiration for a skit in one of his short spinoff stories! He was very careful to hide the sources of his inspiration, of course, but he was still so glad Mobei-jun definitely never read any of his stuff. He didn't need to know how much inspiration Airplane had taken from his... everything. Anyway, he was trying to banter with Sha Hualing and making her feel ignored was never a good idea. "Oh, were you going for manic pixie dream girl on purpose? I've never been sure." She leaned in (eep!), red (berry bright, juicy, stop trying to narrate real life like it's a lead in to some last minute before the deadline filler papapa, come on, especially not about these assholes you call friends sometimes when the shivering purse dog you have where other people keep their self-respect is napping on the job!!) Yes! Anyway! Red lips, very nice mouth he supposed if you were into that sort of thing, but it curved into a very mean little smile that wouldn't have been out of place on any of the meaner wives in his novels. Which wasn't surprising, Airplane guessed. He drew inspiration from many sources, he was a man of varied tastes that could cater to a wide range of paying readers! "And you never will be," she told him smoothly, giggling as he whined. He was still sick! This was patient abuse! Or something!

[ask-heir-blog]

Jeremy: …Michael?

(Ask box is open!!!)

[shima-draws]

Beep bop beep boop! Here’s my half of an art trade I’m doing with the wonderful @cdraws-and-ships! Featuring their AWESOME Delusion Tax AU!

I had tons of fun drawing this and coming up with what Christine would look like as a squip c: Go check out the AU, it’s hella rad!

[cdraws-and-ships-blog]

Delusional Tax AU | BMC | Heir

@shima-draws @monsterunderthefedora

Based off of this video, all credit to the original creator and cover artist. I have created this AU with this as my inspiration.

https://youtu.be/gOfkXabzrLk

---

Jeremy hated his life.

When Jeremy was a baby, his mother and dad decided that they couldn’t be together. His dad didn’t want to wear pants, and his mother’s dream were just bigger that that. And without too much of a fight, Jeremy was taken into custody by his mother as she headed off to fame and fortune.

Featuring in multiple films while simultaneously building up the latter to success in multiple million-dollar companies around the globe, Dana Heere became the face the world has come to know. And guess who she dragged along for the ride? None other than her ‘beautiful boy’, Jeremy.

He has everything anyone could ever need or want. Servants that would literally feed him grapes if he asked, millions of dollars in his pockets, his mom got him his own godamn private jet. The Heir that everyone adores from afar.

So why would he hate it? Well.. it’s not like he asked for it.

Don’t get me wrong, he is grateful for all of it. And he loves his mom. But it’s not like he asked to constantly stay indoors instead of being bombarded by paparazzi. Or to be so popular that he has no friends oncesoever. Or have to take school with his private tutor from England, in which he may have pretty alright grades and pass everything just fine. Honestly… He just wants to be normal more than anything.

He tries so hard, too. He tries to just play video games, drink mountain dew, stay online as a hidden figure named ‘Heir’ (very creative, yeah, but he wasn’t known for creativity, alright?), and wore regular clothing a teen guy would wear. But he can’t.

His mom gets him bigger and better presents every holiday. He has everything pampered for him, so he never has anything to really get up and do, so what’s the point? With all of this, Jeremy was just glad that his mother agreed to stop giving his pictures after he turned 10, when he had his first panic attack in public.

He had one relief, though: Pac-Mike90s. As Heir, he was a low-profile, fun online user. The way he met P-M was when he was playing Apocolypes of the Damned, the game his dad sent him for his birthday. He liked how not up to date it felt, how chill it was. It only got better when he found him on an empty map around witching hour, and they started talking.

It lead farther than he thought. At first he acting like some schmo, a nobody. He got to know P-M a bit for about a month or so. He was the coolest person he’d ever talked to, and he’s talked to governer. Definitely cooler. His real name was Michael. He was old school, fun, always sounded like he actually wanted to talk to Jeremy. Whenever he saw him on the screen, he felt a feeling he couldn’t describe for so long.

He was nervous to tell him. But he was surprised when he reacted in a good manner. He wasn’t.. well, he was freaking out. But not dying. He was just.. He sounded happy. Like he was glad that he was himself, and not that he’s just the Heir. Michael treated him like a real human.

This habit had formed in his life, with him having a busy day, and talking to Michael late into the night. It wasn’t what he wanted.. And there was always a guilt about it, how people would kill for this.. But it was his life. How could it change?

Ring, ring.

Here comes the life changer.

He hasn’t gotten a call from his dad in a whole year and a half, since his last birthday. He usually got a warning, or an indicator why he was going to get a phonecall from the man he wanted to know better. But, this was unexpected.

He answered his phone. “Hello?”

The phone on the other end was happy. “Hey Jeremy, I have some good news.”

Jeremy almost shouted when he heard he was going to visit his dad. He didn’t even know that this would be a possible thing. Excitement ran through his system for the rest of the week before he was going to stay with him. He was a giddy little kid he had been years and years ago.

He packed little things. One backpack, even if his mother tried to force him multiple suitcases. It was only a month or two, and he was planning to go shopping- normal shopping- while he was there. He brought his phone, Apocolypes of the Damned, four or so sets of clothing, his medication, and toiletries.

He had to plane from Paris to New Jersey. His dad insisted on paying for the ticket, so he rode on a normal plane, not even first class. He loved it. He talked up the old woman on the plane ride there. It all felt new, wonderful , like he was Pinocchio or something.

He saw his dad holding up the cardboard sign that said his name on it. However, instead of the famous name “Jeremy Heere”, the name “Jeremy Reeds” was plastered on the sign. He might have passed right by him if he hadn’t awkwardly called for him to come over. When asked about the name, it made perfect sense that Heere was his mother’s Maiden name she decided to keep, and Reeds was his dad’s side. He.. really liked Reeds. (Also, don’t worry, Jeremy’s dad is wearing pants in the airport. But let’s just say he gets away without pants in the weeks after this. Mostly since Jeremy doesn’t care).

He stepped into his room he had slept in as an infant. It was replaced with a twin sized, pretty stiff compared to his bed back at the mansion, and he didn’t mind. A shitty computer that for perfectly with Apocolypes of the Damned. He laid on the bed, proud owner, Jeremy Reeds. He laughed with joy for over ten full minutes when he heard the buzz of his phone. He glanced, realizing it was Michael. He checked it.

M: Ugh. I can’t believe school starts in a week. Uuuugh. 😣 M: Well at least it won’t be as humid. It’s always nicer in the fall.🍁 M: Have you ever visited New Jersey btw? Probably not. M: Maybe one day, hah!

Let’s just say that Jeremy almost got noise complaints within the first hour of being at his dad’s place for screaming too much.

[malice-and-macarons]

“How nice of you to visit me, Mr Blaire.”

Okay, hear me out here...DT but serial killer AU. Maybe I just like seeing Sinclair behind bars looking nuts, kay? Kay.

[soleilnomoon]

staccato ; eren x reader.

6.2k words, fem reader, college au, angst (i know), nsfw, 18+ mdni; eren takes things into his own hands, alcohol and nonsense, y/n still doesn't value her life apparently.

chapter 02 of the enfin, je me réveille series. masterlist | previous ⤸ | next ⤹

behind the pristine veneer of paradis lies a world of opulence funded by blood money, blackmail, that inevitably drips a lethal poison (more popularly known as delusion) into the bloodstreams of its victims — namely the wealthy elite of the city. in the underbelly of paradis, on the other side of the river, where the throwaways reside — those lower on the socioeconomic ladder; the destitute — constituents that everyone forgets about, the people who make paradis possible by performing labor that is deemed unsightly, deemed beneath those that wield the power, deemed too dangerous for those whose bloodlines go back generations to the founders of city. 

an entirely different world exists, one that most like to forget about, however it is true what they say: what’s done in the dark must come to light.

across the river, separated by a large, imposing bridge, stands violet city — not a real city historically, but given the makeshift caste system in paradis, they’ve designated this area as such so that they might carry out their elitism in peace. in the midst of the darkness, neon lights reflecting off of the cars and various puddles on the roads, adding to the eerie, somber atmosphere of the rowdy strip — littered with clubs, seedy shops, hotels, bars, and the like; it’s lively in a way that the suburban areas of paradis could never be. not exactly lawless, but coming dangerously close these days, it’s not for the faint of heart, nor for weak-willed, soft-hearted fools. 

crime is regulated by powerful families that use violet city as a backdrop for their more unsavory activities. where paradis is regulated by rules backed by the government, violet city is not. while the people’s taxes are higher there, the officials tend to turn a blind eye to the ongoings of the city, not bothering with sending police to patrol — knowing their officers might not come back alive or in one piece if they do — nor do they bother with arresting anyone unless absolutely necessary.

this is the truth behind the beauty of paradis; still, rebelliousness is a rite of passage, so it’s no surprise that despite the way their parents struggle to maintain a certain image, those of the younger generation don’t. not when it means they can have fun at their parents’ expense. so they cross the bridge without worry, seek out the fast thrills of the nightlife that violet city has to offer — away from the prying eyes of nosy neighbors, away from the cctv, away from everything they’ve known.

historia reiss is known for her lavish, outlandish parties; they’re almost always themed, and when it’s her birthday, it seems that the whole city gets invited. given her ties to the founders of paradis, this isn’t out of the ordinary for her. tonight isn’t exactly different, although she’s invited a much smaller crowd given the area they’re partying in. club forte is exclusive in that it caters to a specific clientele. and, because of her status, she’s rented out most of the vip section for her friends to enjoy — which is why eren is so reluctant to attend.

clubs get old fast, but because his older brother is so insistent on eren keeping a friendship with historia — for the connections to her family, of course, it’s always about networking with him, establishing relationships, solidifying future business endeavors — he attends, simply out of duty. he knows how this will all play out. his friends will attend, pre-game at home, take a cab across the bridge to the club, and party until they puke. because it’s a thursday night, he chooses to remain pleasantly tipsy, rather than full on drunk. he’ll leave that for another night, or perhaps a long weekend.

sitting back against the suede cushions of the couch, eren watches, amusement waning as lights flash around the room, illuminating the performers on stage, the dark furniture adds to the swankiness of the club, although he’s still very much bored of it all. the faux-glitz and glamor, the drunk shenanigans of his peers, the way people try to talk to him even though he pointedly ignores them — it’s all so irritating. so he motions for historia to join him and, naturally, her entourage comes along.

they’re laughing at something ymir says — something uncouth enough to make historia’s entire face flush — and he raises his glass up, a toast of sorts. “happy birthday, historia,” he says with a small smile, eyes drifting around until he spots the rest of his friends, who are also making their way towards that section of the club. the music makes it hard to hold a conversation, but historia is determined, yapping incessantly in his ear as he sips quietly, hardly paying attention. it’s annie who tugs on historia’s shoulder, pushing her aside so she can sit next to him, flashing the birthday girl a mischievous smirk before nudging eren with her elbow.

“move over, jaeger, you don’t need to manspread so fucking much. we get it, you have a big dick, who cares.” it’s a joke, he knows that, still his irritation has yet to subside. it’s not abnormal for eren to act standoffish even outside of the classroom, but this is a little much. still, annie doesn’t let up, and forces conversation on him until he sighs and resigns himself to actually cooperate and socialize. a few drinks in and he starts to feel himself loosen up. he watches as jean lingers a little too close to mikasa, who seems to be keeping her distance for the night — much to eren’s relief, she’s been much too needy these days.

“oh!” annie says suddenly, hands clapping, the others following suit, as a small group of bottle girls make their way over, carrying circular trays with bottles of alcohol — expensive, mostly likely illegally imported, too — glasses, buckets of ice, cut up fruit, the works. because it’s club forte and because there is a certain image to uphold in order to entice customers, the workers tend to be fairly attractive. the women are dressed alike with short black dresses — the cut low enough that the lace of their bras peek out around their cleavage —heels that look uncomfortable but they walk with ease in, makeup that isn’t too dramatic, but is just enough for them to wear all night long without issue. 

jean and connie hype reiner and armin up, laughing with some of the women from the group — who are more than happy to entertain, historia’s events always bring about high profits no matter where she goes — flirting and encouraging them to stay. eren shakes his head, glass now unfortunately empty; mikasa offers to pour for him, but he stops her, not wanting her to get in the habit of doing things for him again. 

“i told you to stop,” he says sternly, eyes narrowing at her; she regards him a little coldly, surprising them both, but she simply turns her face and seeks comfort in sasha’s presence instead. the headache that has been plaguing him since the night began returns in full force, and because jean and connie are still flirting and distracting the bottle girls, eren’s glass remains empty. only for a few more seconds, that is. 

you knew the night wouldn’t go your way when the power went out in your dorm. you take longer than normal to get ready for your shift, and because of that you have to pay extra for the cab to get you to the club on time. you’re still on probation from your last mishap, so you know you can’t mess up again, or else your contract will be terminated. the bright side is that you put a bit more oomph into your makeup, wanting a dramatic eye and lip combination that you’re quite satisfied with once you check your compact mirror again. 

but, as luck would have it, you’re whisked away to assist with a large party of guests, even though you’d rather be back in bed, watching a kdrama of choice, eating ice cream and feeling sorry for yourself. mustering up as much pep as you can, you smile brightly, lips curling upward, making you appear every bit as coy as you are alluring. a few of you light up some sparklers for the bottles and carry them over, cheering and singing a quick happy birthday to historia — a girl you’ve exchanged words with a few times in class over the years. it doesn’t occur to you that you should leave the area immediately, because if you were more aware of your surroundings, you’d have noticed jean before he noticed you.

and man did he notice.

jean, being the absolute menace he is, is half-drunk and chattier than normal. so it’s unsurprising that his voice is loud as well. “oh shit is that y/n??” he rouses the attention of the others, who all turn to see where jean is pointing. “wait, do you work here, oh fuck that’s awesome. come party with us!” he’s delusional if he thinks he can simply ask you to leave your shift to party with them.

you smile demurely, a slight shrug of your shoulders. “sorry cutie, i’m on the clock.” jean, in turn, acts as if you’ve wounded his heart gravely, flopping onto the adjacent armchair, his eyes not leaving you even as you walk towards the table. 

despite your false bravado and your desire to be professional, a slight panic infiltrates your body, leaving you defenseless against him.

eren jaeger is clad in all black  — a turtleneck that fits him a little too well for your liking (translation: you really fucking like the turtleneck on him), slim pants, shoes that probably cost more than your entire paycheck, and a gold chain around his neck with an key attached; you’ve always wanted to ask him why he wears it, but never find the courage. you won’t start now, though. you find it hard to focus, even walking is difficult, though you manage somehow. his green eyes follow your movements, and he bites his bottom lip hard — most likely to jolt some sense into his system. if he thought your leggings from earlier were a problem, then your dress is even worse. your thighs are tantalizing, calling out to him repeatedly — for him to touch, to sink his teeth into — the curve of your ass nearly makes him lose his damn mind. his grip on his glass is tight enough that he fears he might actually shatter it without meaning to. his friends’ chatter serves as background noise that he ignores for the sake of focusing on you.

 your hair is just as distracting as before, pink as hell, the curls much more tame, but still left to their own devices as they bounce around; his imagination pales in comparison, he realizes belatedly. 

with his eyes on you like that, it’s hard to concentrate as you move around and pour champagne for everyone. you try to regulate your breathing, but the memory of the way you masturbated while imagining him fucking you creeps back into your mind, making you bump into reiner and stumble in your heels, spilling some of the contents of the bottle. you end up falling onto the couch, more specifically, you fall onto eren’s lap. the champagne sloshes over, soaking the bottom half of his turtleneck, but he’s not thinking about that right now. 

all he can think about, all he can focus on, really, is the fact that your ass is much softer and rounder than he originally thought. inhaling through his nostrils, a half-assed attempt at keeping himself level headed, his regret is instant as the scent of your perfume reminds him of just why he can’t stand you. warm vanilla, pomegranate, and honey. it reminds him of summertime on an island, where the air is hot and inviting, a breeze that follows without permission; it reminds him of a promise he made to himself long ago, to not get caught in your web; it reminds him that if he doesn’t have you soon, he might actually lose his life. 

you try to gather yourself, hands sticky from the alcohol, an apology lost somewhere in the confusion as you wiggle around in shock.

“i’m so, so, so, so, so sorry, oh my god,” you say frantically, grabbing napkins and placing the bottle down so you can pat eren dry. amidst all of your scatterbrained antics, he notices the pink glitter that adorns your eyelids, and every time your hair moves, glitter floats around the air, landing on him without a care. he wonders if you’re aware that your list of transgressions is getting longer by the minute. he doubts it, you’re not the type to think things through right away, a trait that he initially found annoying has slowly, but surely, become a little endearing.

at that thought, eren manages to sober up, remembering that he needs to keep his distance from you no matter what. his patience leaves him almost immediately, the feel of your hands on him is enough to make him forget himself — to make him want to kiss you right then and there — but he refrains. he’s very good at denying himself. your mind is going a mile a minute, your coworkers watching in horror as you’ve yet to extract yourself from eren jaeger’s lap. much to jean’s amusement, his wolf-whistles are enough to make connie and reiner howl with laughter. armin, at least, has the decency to be embarrassed on your behalf. and you, being as clueless as ever, only realize how foolish you’re being when eren’s hand drops onto your thigh, squeezing it to catch your attention.

“please,” he says, teeth clenched, counting slowly in his head, “stop moving like that.” he says low enough, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, setting off a heat that envelopes your entire body. because the universe decides to throw you a bone, you leap off of him without much issue, stuttering over another apology, eyes widening as you try to smooth things over with him. he wears his usual annoyance with ease, but hidden behind that is something deadly — something that you swear will be the reason for your demise if you’re not careful. 

“um…oh!” you reach down and grab his hand, tugging him forward; he’s surprisingly compliant, standing up without a fuss, and following behind you as you lead him away from his friends. “let me clean your shirt for you, it’s the least i can do.” you really just don’t want him to report you; the job was difficult enough to land, and since you’re strapped for cash, you can’t have him snitching just yet.

for some reason — a strange, unnecessary reason — eren has yet to tell you to let go of him. logically, he could’ve used the distraction as an excuse to leave. but, images of jean, connie, reiner, and, yes even armin, flood his mind — them huddling around you, them laughing with you, and you laughing with them. it’s stupid, he knows, but he can’t help it. you lead him to the staff bathroom and push him inside, locking the door behind you for privacy.

the bathroom is cleaner than he imagined it would be, roomier than he thought, too. leaning against the nearby wall, hands in his pockets, he watches you pace, heels clacking loudly against the tile. 

“okay, so, i know i technically kidnapped you,” you start, running your hands through your hair, glitter flying everywhere again.

“not technically,” he interjects smoothly, lids lowered as his gaze morphs from curiosity to desire. you’re not stupid, you know how you look, but you can’t think about the possibility of eren’s attraction to you, not when you need to make sure he won’t say anything about the drink.

“whatever, look,” you glance at him sharply, a hand on your hip as you study him, “i’ll do anything if you promise not to tell my boss.” you don’t bother saying that you’re on your last strike, that if you get reported you won’t be able to afford to pay your bills and other debts that have attached themselves to your name over the course of your life.

the steely look in your eye, your unwavering determination, it’s all so… funny to him. so he laughs — genuinely so.

you’re in shock. eren’s never laughed in your presence before and, granted, you know he’s laughing at you, but a laugh’s a laugh, right? you’ll take anything at this point. feeling your face warm, you attempt to divert attention away from you. “don’t laugh, i’m serious.” you watch as his head tilts back, his throat is so smooth and inviting, you just want to run your—

no. absolutely not. you nearly say this out loud to yourself and refrain from doing so, instead taking a step back to give him some breathing room. another laughable offense, if he does say so himself.

“what can you possibly offer me? you’ve already ruined my favorite shirt.” it’s a lie that he says a little too easily; he doesn’t care for much, let alone material things like clothes. still, it’s funny to see you worked up over nothing. 

“i said sorry, god.” there goes that attitude he loves to hate. “besides, it wasn’t even that much champagne, it’s probably dry right now.”

his sticky shirt says otherwise, he wants to point out, but keeps quiet about that. 

“i’m waiting,” he says carefully, his voice rich and deep, caressing a part of your heart that you didn’t think was capable of feeling, “don’t tell me you don’t have any idea.” amusement shimmers along his face and you want to slap him for it.

“shut up, i’m thinking.” you bite your lip and pace again, coming up with absolutely nothing. he’s right, there’s nothing you can give the man who basically has it all. bile rises to the back of your throat, you try your best to calm your nerves; you really, really can’t lose your job, but you don’t know what to do.

sensing a bit of distress, he fixes his face, opting for a more neutral, aloof tone instead.

“there’s another test coming up in a few weeks,” he reminds you, completely taking you away from your mini-crisis.

“why the hell are you talking about a damn exam in a club?” you can’t believe him; he’s obsessed with school, obsessed with making you feel less than, why do you even like him—

before you get a chance to spiral properly, he cuts off your thoughts, “have you studied for it?” 

eyes narrowed, long lashes playing the role of a siren, enticing him, literally beckoning him closer; so he stalks over, long legs eating up the space between you, forcing you to back up against the counter. he towers over you, even in your heels you’re no match for his height.

“w-what?” you shake your head, curls bouncing, slapping him in the face again, this time leaving behind bits of glitter that seem to stick themselves to his cheek. “no, i haven’t okay!” you don’t understand why he even cares if you studied or not; doesn’t he get off on failing you? “i have time, so it’s not a big deal.” besides, you need to pick up more shifts and can’t worry about an exam that’s three weeks away.

“tsk, this is why your grades continue to plummet. that attitude of yours will be your downfall.” he leans forward, his face dangerously close to yours, your breathing slowing from the proximity. if you take a big enough breath, your chest will brush against his, and you might never survive the rest of the night. 

a grave miscalculation on his part, one where his brain hasn’t quite caught up with the rest of his body, where he finds himself moving closer, his body flush against yours, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs hard, exposing your neck properly to him. “i’ll help you,” he says after a long stretch of silence, the sounds of your breathing only intensifying whatever tension lies between you — something charged, overly familiar, agonizingly addictive.

“h-help me?” you almost ask with what but it dawns on you that he’s probably talking about studying for the exam. “no, i’m fine, i don’t need any he—”

he tugs on your hair again, a traitorous whine floats freely from your mouth, his curled lashes fan his face as he blinks slowly, green eyes darkening, arousal simmering quietly. “it’s not a request or a suggestion,” he does the unthinkable, his lips barely grazing your skin, breath warm against your neck, “and now, you say…” 

it’s almost as if a switch flips; your mind goes blank and you blurt out, “fine! fuck,” which makes him chuckle darkly, eliciting an involuntary shiver from deep within you.

“excellent,” he says softly, the word rumbling against your skin, almost as if it’s tempting you to act out, but you manage to hold it together. eren lets you go, hand placed in his pocket again he decides he’s had enough fun for one night. “tuesday evening, the library.” eren walks towards the door and unlocks it. “don’t be late.” it’s the last thing he says as you watch, the shock never leaving you as you cling to the bathroom counter, fingers trembling, thighs pressed together — the effect this man has on you is unreal. you don’t like it; not one bit.

“oh, god,” you say out loud, letting out a deep sigh once he leaves the bathroom completely. you hope this means he’ll keep the incident from earlier to himself and that he’ll advise his friends to do the same. maybe you’ve managed to sway him somehow, tug on his tiny heartstrings with your pleas. whatever, as long as you have a job by the end of the night you don’t really care.

you plan to hang out for another minute and turn to face the mirror, eyes closed briefly as you try to gather your thoughts. eren jaeger is selective about the people he has in his circle; he doesn’t date openly (that you know of), he doesn’t even hug people like that. so then why did he seem a little too interested in touching you. he held onto your hand, he pulled on your hair — something you didn’t think you’d like — he was close enough to kiss you. and didn’t. the disappointment of that stings, but you don’t let it keep you down. it’s the most intimate you’ve ever seen him be — and with you of all people. you doubt the shock will wear off anytime soon, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the change in development between you.

maybe you misread him all of these years? 

whatever it is, you know that jean is a bit of a liar; it definitely isn’t a crush that eren has — it’s something, you don’t know what per se, but romance and eren jaeger do not go hand-in-hand — and you’re less sure that his claims of eren being a virgin are true, too. you don’t know why you believed it, but jean seemed to believe his words at the time. “stupid,” you mumble, and look into the mirror to fix your hair.

eren hovers in front of the bathroom door, physically unable to move from the spot, the feeling that if he leaves now, regret will follow him like a petulant child.

jaw clenched he tells himself to relax, although that is short-lived. how can he relax when he’s so close to getting what he wants? eren is not a patient man, and you’ve infiltrated his defenses somehow; he wants to know how you did it without his knowledge, how you’re able to turn his brain into mush without trying, how you’re able to make him say and do things that others can’t. because of that, he finds himself back in the bathroom, startling you. the one thing he does know, the one thing he needs to find out, is if any of it is real.

eyes widening, you look over his shoulder, see he’s locked the door again and making his way towards you, “what are you do—”

he pulls you close again, his mouth slanting against yours, lips moving as he speaks over you. “there’s a stipulation i forgot to mention.” you want to ask him what it is, but he’s stolen the words from you when he kisses you. it’s short, more curious than anything — starting with a peck that ignites something within you, then another, and another; sure enough, your fingers fist a handful of his turtleneck, the fabric thick in your hand, almost as if you need to ground yourself in order to tell yourself that yes this is happening right now.

it’s magnetic, the effect you have on him, the softness of your lips makes him reconsider all the times he’s been meaner than necessary. not one to normally reflect on his treatment of others, he’s not sure what this feeling is — guilt, maybe? although, that’s highly unlikely; for him to feel that there’d have to be some sort of affection, and he’d rather get gutted alive than deal with a truth that devastating. 

“what is it?” you ask, lips parting, giving him the opportunity to kiss you again, his hand grips the back of your neck firmly, as the other coasts along your curves, his touch burning through the fabric of your dress, and when his fingers make contact with your thigh, you whimper pathetically and cling to him more. you know how movies and books like to say that powerful kisses can make you weak in the knees? yeah. you’re learning that first-hand.

eren kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he’s never considered parting from you; his tongue swipes at your bottom lip before gliding expertly into your mouth, caressing your tongue artfully, the kiss transforming from exploratory to heated rather quickly. you taste like strawberries and mint, like forgotten dreams and unspoken promises, like he’s never tasted anything as sweet or as exquisite; how he’s gone this long without kissing you is the greatest mystery in life, but now that he has — he doesn’t want to stop.

his mouth is a sinful reminder of how flying too close to the sun will singe your wings, will make the fall that much more tragic, will leave you feeling raw and starved. still, you enjoy the taste of him — cognac, a spiced smoke, and a hint of mango — and his tongue; enjoy the way his hand grabs your hip roughly; enjoy the way the counter digs into your body as he presses you against it. your dress slowly rides up as he places his leg in between yours, parting them unexpectedly. it all happens so fast, and yet it’s not happening fast enough for your liking.

is this another dream? you’re not too sure; it certainly feels real, but your imagination is powerful enough to make the impossible seem possible. 

hips shifting forward, chasing something — you don’t know what — as he presses his growing erection against you, making you gasp when he pulls at your hair again. “i’ll tutor you,” he says suddenly, kisses growing headier, his lips lingering for much longer than he means them to, “in exchange, for that,” he tilts your head so you’re forced to open your eyes and look at him. “i want you.” he doesn’t say more than that; your throat dries at his frankness, and you know that this can’t possibly be a dream, your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure this is what going into cardiac arrest feels like. 

before you’re able to formulate a coherent enough response, his lips latch onto a patch of skin beneath your earlobe, his tongue darting out, flicking against your skin before he sucks on it savagely. the strangled noise that flies out of your mouth makes him want to do it again; so he does. repeatedly. he leaves behind a rather noticeable mark, one that you might have difficulty concealing later on. but you don’t think about that; you don’t think about the way your core aches furiously, how you’re sure you’ve ruined your favorite pair of panties, how you know that if you don’t kiss him again, you might actually fall apart.

it’s when your lips find his again, when you thrust your tongue into his mouth without issue, when you kiss him with fervor that he recognizes that you might ruin him entirely. the heart is a fickle, treacherous thing, and when his beats a little faster than he’s accustomed to, when he feels his cheeks flush lightly, he pulls apart from you, eyes wild as they search yours for something — he doesn’t know what.

on a shuddering inhale, you finally answer him. “okay.” your voice is quiet, all the sass and energy you had earlier has been taken from you for the night. you didn’t think that he would not only offer to tutor you, but that he wanted something out of it too. you should’ve known; eren jaeger is not the sort of man who does things like that out of the kindness of his heart. but, still, you think it’s a little sweet that he’s offering, even though he has ulterior motives.

you know, you know — you’re not well.

lips swollen, lipstick smeared, the remnants of the dark red shade lingering on his lips — a sight to behold, you think. he doesn’t mind at all; if anything, it’s a souvenir of the night, a blood pact of sorts between the two of you. you’re grateful he stopped teasing you, because if he touches you again, you’re sure neither of you will leave the bathroom anytime soon.

and, because he knows himself all too well, he refuses to put himself in that situation just yet. especially since he was hard enough to be swayed by his attraction to you. he leaves you without saying a word; when you look at your expression in the mirror, you’re not sure you recognize the woman in your reflection. still, you wipe some of the lipstick off, fingers lingering along the curve of your lips, that ghost-like feeling — as if eren’s lips are still brutalizing yours over and over — forces goosebumps to travel along your arms.

“oh fuck,” you say out loud, gripping the edge of the counter, a wave of anxiety pouring over you. “i’m so fucked, damn it.” an understatement. you should’ve never let him kiss you, should’ve never kissed him back. but do you regret it? no. you don’t. if anything, you’re glad it happened. you got it out of your system, you can move on now, right?

while sitting in the backseat of his suv, eren has a similar conversation with himself; internally, of course. he texted his driver earlier to pick him up around this time anyway, so he didn’t bother rejoining the party, dodging mikasa and the others as he made his way outside. pulling out his phone again, his fingers fly across the screen as he drafts another text message and then tosses his phone onto the seat next to him once it’s sent.

after fixing yourself — again — you exit the bathroom, and keep to various other sections of the club for the duration of the night. you’re jumpy, a little out of it, and paranoid that someone told your boss about what happened; except, there’s no lecture or punishment once your shift ends. you collect your tips and leave without a hitch. you feel a pair of eyes on you as you leave the club and get into the cab that’s waiting for you, but when you look over your shoulder, there’s no one else around. you’re probably tired from the night, so you don’t think much of it, instead sitting down and giving the driver your dorm’s address and sitting back to close your eyes.

as you drive past the strip of clubs littering canal street, you think about how long of a day you’ve had, about how you’re unsure of how to move forward now that eren’s made some of his intentions clear. it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before — and now you have confirmation that his animosity towards you was mostly due to his own stupidity over his sexual attraction, nothing more nothing less. it takes a bit of weight off of your shoulders, knowing that he doesn’t actually hate you — you don’t think he does, anyway — and that you’ll need to equip yourself so that you can be better prepared the next time you’re around him. 

maybe if you masturbate enough, you’ll get tired of him. 

as soon as you think about it, you know you’re full of shit. there’s no way you’ll get tired of him now, not when he’s kissed you like that, when he’s made you feel more in those fifteen minutes than you’ve felt in years. when you make it back to campus, the silence is jarring; it always is whenever you come off of a long shift. and it’s when you toss your purse onto your desk that you realize your phone died earlier, so you plug it in to charge it as you get ready for bed. it takes a while for you to remove all the makeup, for you to scrub off the grime of the nightlife; but when you’re done, you feel refreshed, hopping into bed in a big t-shirt and grabbing your phone off of the nightstand to scroll through social media.

a text from an unknown number pops up on your notification panel, so you click it while yawning, blinking slowly as you try to process the words on your screen.

+1 (892) 539 0484: bring coffee if you’re going to come late.

as you lay there, confusion etched deeply into your features, it hits you that this must be eren — you’re sure he must’ve gotten your number from jean or connie somehow. but you’re too tired to answer him completely, so your response is short, albeit delayed.

you: 🖕🏾nite, jaegar.

+1 (892) 539 0484: … for that, you’ll have to bring snacks, too.

you don’t bother responding, but you do end up saving his number, a hint of a smile — a genuine one — plays on your lips. you’re not invested in analyzing why that makes you smile, and you’re more interested in sleeping than anything really. but, naturally, eren plagues your mind, so sleep evades you for hours as you think about how soft his lips were, how you want to feel his hands on other parts of your body, how you think you might go crazy the next time he kisses you.

another text notification pops up on your phone; you think it’s eren again — maybe he’s having an equally difficult time falling asleep too. the thought is a comforting one, but when you look at your screen, the number is unfamiliar. you know you saved eren’s already, but you don’t recognize the area code. you wouldn’t have bothered clicking the message thread but curiosity always gets the best of you. there are several pictures attached — of you, of eren, of you and eren, all from earlier in the club. it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but some of these were taken from inside the bathroom — a feat you didn’t think was possible, but violet city brings about the worst in people.

there’s nothing incriminating until you get to the last batch, the ones where eren’s mouth is permanently attached to yours, where his hand memorizes the curve of your hip, fingers drifting dangerously close to your ass. you blink several times at the three dots that bubble in the thread. since they take too long to say anything, you toss your phone onto your nightstand again and ignore it. the pictures don’t bother you — you don’t have anything to hide, although you’re sure eren might feel differently. whoever took them probably thinks they can extort you, but unfortunately for them, you don’t have ties to anyone in paradis like that, so your reputation doesn’t matter.

still, it’s a bit strange that they took the time to do that. is it a warning? a threat that might jeopardize eren’s future, perhaps? the uneasiness never leaves you, even when sleep finally comes, your heavy lids drooping without putting up a fight. you figure you can show eren the next time you see him, ask his opinion on the matter. you’re not the type to back down from anyone, so whoever that was, whoever thinks they’ve pulled a fast one on you, is shit out of luck.

for now.

if your blatant disregard for the societal norms that paradis has in place for the masses isn’t proof enough, maybe your indifference to being blackmailed — or, at least, you think that that’s what’s happening — will be enough. 

little do you know though, it’s much bigger than that. a tangled web of lies, deceit, corruption, and possibly violence await you in the near future. you won’t know it’s happening until you’re in the thick of it; and then, once everything settles, will you still think you have a place in paradis — at paradis college, in eren’s life no less? 

will you still pretend that you can mingle with the elite, that you can ignore your past, that you can simply erase the demons that you desperately want to chase away? everything is up in the air right now, and while you may not want to revisit the skeletons in your closet, it seems that someone does; and bones don’t lie. 

eventually, the truth will come out, and you won’t be able to hide from it any longer.

masterlist | previous ⤸ | next ⤹

[laryna6]

SO You’re an archon looking to retire, the question is can ur humans survive god-level threats without you?

You know what would make sure ur humans can protect themselves? 

An Actual Effing Army! 

A trained, veteran military force and a financial institution to fund it in perpetuity can be yours for the low, low price of one (1) gnosis!

Order now and we’ll throw in HARBINGER TARTAgLIA.

He slices and dices! He stirs and flies (hang glider not included)!

BUT he DOES come with not just a vision, not just a delusion, but **the power of the Abyss!**

- 

AU where Childe is summoned to the Tsaritza’s throne and told his mission is to go throw down with the actual effing **God of War** as many times as it takes to prove that Childe plus his troops are capable of ensuring the defense of Liyue.

And then, while Childe is trying not to burst into the hymn, “My Goddess Is An Awesome Goddess,” adding that he should go nuts buying gifts for his family and generally throwing money around because he needs to convince Morax that the Bank under his control will be a Good Provider for Liyue’s new army so it won’t take tax funds away from providing for the citizens.

So: Zhongli being followed around by Harbinger who is IN LOVE (with your carnage) and taking every opportunity to prove he’ll be a good Sugar Daddy. Fortunately, there are many opportunities to do so, since Zhongli has Habits after ruling Liyue for thousands of years and keeps trying to Support The Arts and Subsidize Prescription Costs For The Poor on a consultant’s budget...

[harbinger-of-stupidity]

have some mindless rambling about something i thought about while grinding for ascension materials.

so you know how the anemo hypostasis has the code name “beth”? my brain, numbed from the grinding ive been doing for ages, goes “haha that sounds like a human name. who named the murder cube? and why beth? haha.” and i thought;

“hey, what if ol’ beth here used to be human?”

(might mention spoilers so ill dump the rest utc.)

reading this back after writing it makes me sound completely fuckin batshit but ill post it anyway because it makes me want to write

imo it would work much better as an au (since my knowledge of genshin lore is limited due to quarantine dealing a massive hit to my comprehension skills) but..

..hear me out;

we’ve seen childe’s final transformation in his fight. it looks pretty monsterous to me. it’s caused by his delusion, so what if it was a result of a delusion malfunction?

from the manga we know delusions have the tendency to backfire on the user if they don’t have a vision- if i remember correctly, that’s how diluc’s father, crepus, died. he didn’t turn into a monster (let alone a murder cube) but i don’t remember him doing anything similar to what childe did in terms of transformation. and speaking of childe- even though he has a vision, he states in the post-fight cutscene that the transformation dealio was physically taxing for him.

so, what i’m proposing (either as a theory or as an au or headcanon) is:

“beth” used to be a human and a delusion user- specifically an anemo delusion.

once they were unlucky enough to have their delusion malfunction during a transformation akin to childe’s (that is, assuming something like that isn’t exclusive to the harbingers)

this turned them into the anemo hypostasis, and if we want to go darker, killed “beth” themself but left their physical form to remain as the hypostasis for the rest of time.

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader {Kingdom AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Why do birds deem it necessary to shout during such early hours?

The matutinal chirping was that which your mind vehemently claimed to hate, and yet you couldn’t get enough - you remained unsatiated, even as the chorus reached its most deafening. Your hunger for the oddly-mellisonant noises grew with each passing day.

It tells me that they're still alive. When did I begin longing for such an ensemble, so spirited…so within my grasp? Perhaps they hide the key to my cage…to this prison of self-spite and deceit? If only I could capture one. I would ask it all that I wish to know - its infinite knowledge of my future…if I am doomed to live. The birds here…they’re so, incredibly free. I yearn to have that same liberty.

With a drawn-out sigh, you added, That's but a mere fantasy, a childish day-dream. It is certain to disappear with time. These shackles are the curse of my birth. Freedom…true freedom…it will forever evade me.

Your untamed, maudlin delusions penetrated every crevice of your being, but as you rose from a half-slumber, you pushed them down. Shifting your focus to something real, something imminent, was the best course of action. So, exhaustion-glazed eyes ghosted over the makeshift bed to which you had confined yourself. Or, more accurately - to which the villagers had confined you. This was far from a gesture of concern for your health, although disease was often rife amongst the peasantry. No…this was the result of their refusal to so much as acknowledge your existence. Only work managed to rouse you. Work - the very warrant for your ostracization. In a way, you supposed that was valid. You never wanted such unsavoury jobs, but how else were you to make ends meet…especially now?

What if I simply abandoned my post? Would I be punished? Executed? Either way, I am deserving of it. If only death could cleanse me of my sins…Is food off the menu today, too? It is becoming nigh-impossible to find enough, even for a single day. No-one sells to me anymore. Not even that kindly old woman near the village outskirts…

"Is that my fate then, to die of starvation?" Despite the indifference lacing your tone, you prepared for an onslaught of tears.

This world, infinitely cruel and rotten as you perceived it, seemed to loath your very essence. It slowly whittled you to the bone, rejected your abject cries and those pitiful, helpless tears. Yet, not a soul threw you pity - not even an ounce. Nothing should have tethered you to this ground, this filthy house, where the faintest illumination of a flickering candle was all the hope you could afford. Though, lack of money was never truly the problem. No…the fault lay solely with the villagers. And the King. If only you hadn't been threatened to assume your mantle. If only this was the fantasy - this bloodthirsty kingdom, the ignorance to such plights as yours, the senseless slaughter of your parents…

By my own hands. I cannot masquerade as the victim forever. They already haunt me…the ghosts. All the ghosts…

"It would be a fitting end, I suppose." The breaths that tore apart your lungs failed to distract your wandering gaze.

It fell suspiciously upon an unopened scroll, donning a sickeningly-familiar wax seal. Had a member of the Royal Guard crept inside, under the cloak of night? It appeared that even the most highly-trained soldiers in the land would wretch at the thought of an encounter with you, awake and alert. How utterly ridiculous. A young, sullen-faced girl couldn’t exactly compete with the King's personal guards, even if you were able to wield an axe. Your defeat would be anticipated, underwhelming. You strolled over to examine the parchment, malnutrition forcing your slowed movements. It was a fresh order, you wagered, straight from the King himself.

I had hoped to be proven incorrect. No bother. Well…perchance with another few coins, I could convince a poor villager to sell me some bread? A nice loaf, maybe?

Your stomach grumbled its agreement. 'Kill or be killed' wasn’t simply an idle comment, after all - it encompassed the very nature of humanity.

"Brutish." A susurrant sound tumbled from your lips. "But I am no better."

If honesty must prevail in this world, then I shall attest to being so much worse.

The scroll's seal broke with ease, leaving you to unfurl the paper and trace the words, bile endeavouring all the while to scale the walls of your stomach. The name engraved in black ink was a recognisable one. He, alongside his unfledged son, worked as palace servants. The latter was especially flighty, always being reprimanded by his seniors. This, you had witnessed on occasion. A fleeting glance was all you ever allowed yourself, and that name never once caused your skin to crawl so horribly, as it did now.

"XXXXX Takami…a thief?"

Is there no justification? I wonder if he truly stole anything. The King is most likely in the mood to watch an execution today. If so, then this will not be the first instance of an innocent dying by my hand.

As guilt poured from your eyes, silent and crystalline, you muttered, "I cannot profess to be his champion. Nor even my own…Why must my resolve be so frail?"

Why must cruelty reign supreme?

Your reflections were quelled by the searing pain exuding from the mark that tainted your wrist. It was customary for executioners, but designs varied. You were unfortunate enough to be branded with something simple, yet imbued with the weight and meaning of an entire people. It was as though your words, however few, and your actions, spoke for all your kin. It was curious, as the symbol was the runic ᛒ, although Japan was far removed from any other civilisations. The deplorable truth of the matter, was that it solidified your societal status. It served as a reminder that you wouldn’t ever escape from the Burakumin - the lowest class. The peasants. The dirty, the untrustworthy, the sinners. You couldn’t cover it up. To do so might be counted as treason, fighting against the authority of the crown. You would be executed, just as your parents, and now…as this conceivably blameless man.

…This father.

You would so disturb the structure of a family?

Have I any other choice?

Life never presented you with choices, different paths to follow, to branch off from the main narrative. The door to your cage was securely chained. The key, presumably, rested within the bulging pocket of the King. Your sleight-of-hand skills weren't masterful enough to allow the evasion of every soldier at the King's command, so you couldn’t ever move to grasp self-sovereignty. That worthless tyrant had to understand this. He likely laughed at the image. You couldn’t simply neglect your responsibilities, for this one man, for his youthful son…

What use are sentiments, if only to distract from this morbid reality? Their family cannot be satisfied, if he would stoop to thievery. Criminals cannot proceed unpunished.

"Though they can, and often do." The glimmer of remorse reflecting in your eyes alluded to the ever-dwindling fire in your soul - you couldn’t comprehend your position…why you still lived, after everything - every rolling head, every spatter of blood, every jeer and taunt…

Between the burning of the brand on your wrist, and the nipping of the tears in your (e/c) irises, you decided that a moment of respite was needed. You perched on the unsteady floor, clutching both face and wrist. Why was this happening now? Morning-tide shouldn't be harder than any other time - least of all early afternoon, when families would gather around the execution grounds, blithely chatting away and gnawing on bread, or the rare sliver of cheese that almost compelled you to salivate. Honestly, it was a miracle you could still hold the axe aloft, in spite of your meagre diet. You sighed, rehearsing the time of this newest dispatch. Three hours…that was hardly fair. It required far longer to mentally prepare for such a killing. This man had a wife, surely, and a son! As you defended against the sick feeling nestling in your stomach, the repugnant sight of ebony in the corner of the room caught your attention. You wished so desperately to sacrifice that garb to the flames of Hell. You couldn’t bear to look at it, let alone adorn it.

Why do I bother to wear a mask, when they all recognise me?

Oh, of course…"It veils my tears."

And also, perhaps, my rugged appearance. I cannot even claim to resemble a respectable young woman. The villagers would sleep easier without beholding such an unsightly face. I should pay thanks the gods that the cloak disguises my figure, as well.

Broad shoulders and pancake-like breasts plagued your waking thoughts, but they were well-shielded underneath the dark, flowing robe you had just picked up. You utterly despised them. With less than three hours before the execution, you slipped on the cloak, but left the mask. It couldn’t be properly washed by hand - the blood of hundreds, innocents and sinners alike, had seemed to seep into the very essence of the fabric. It repulsed you, and yet an odd warmth accompanied it. Maybe…because it was the only constant in your life? The only thing providing purpose, whether you desired it or not? The fragrance was familiar, sometimes comforting on a particularly savage night. It nearly stung.

Just as a sorrowful breath escaped your lips, a series of frantic knocks alerted you to the door. Your entire being shuddered, nerves exploding. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. If you opened that door now, which now appeared more foreboding, who would you greet? The Captain of the Royal Guard? That once-lovely elderly woman, who used to sell you bread? A tax collector? A thief? Nobody in their right mind rapped on the door of an executioner…an outcast. They must have a certain degree of battle prowess, then. Shakily, you started towards that wooden entrance.

The knocking never ceased. In fact, was it intensifying? Whoever this was, they were desperate.

There would be nowhere for them to hide, in this small house.

The door swung open, revealing a dishevelled young man.

Is this…him?

The moment his words flooded your ears, the whole world collapsed around you. "Are you the executioner who is going to kill my father?"

You wanted to deny, to beg for forgiveness, but you couldn’t. Instead, with an averted gaze, you responded, "I am afraid so."

"You don't…you don't want to? You aren’t excited about this?" His tone indicated confusion, perhaps even sympathy.

To where did his formalities retreat? What a brazen boy…

You shuffled in discomfort. "I apologise for not taking pleasure in my work."

He looked unsure. "Please don't kill him. He is not thief - it's a lie!"

"That is quite a claim. Do you have any proof?" You didn’t wish to interrogate the poor soul - he was about to lose the greatest role-model he would ever know.

"No…" He stared at the ground briefly, before a fiery determination illuminated his eyes, and he looked back up. "…Would you…would you help me save him? Please?"

Does he assume me a hero? Or a vigilante?...Me?

The idea was half-baked, teeming with flaws. Wasn’t your capture, and subsequent execution, almost inevitable? Clearly, this had been a spontaneous decision, and the consequences floated just outside his mind. You swallowed down any further words. Something about him, something he exuded…pain? Fear? There wasn’t a single spark of confidence twinkling behind those golden eyes, and yet…you felt your heart pounding in compliance. In truth, did you not yearn for such an opportunity? Did you not wish to bellow to the universe, that you were capable of possessing a righteous nature, even at the expense of your life? If you couldn’t save one innocent from your own axe, you would never again begin to dream of redemption. It would set in stone your utter worthlessness.

Paranoid, (e/c) eyes skirted around the boy, searching for any characters of suspect. With a heaviness burrowing amid your heart, you ushered him inside your humble abode. Immediately, he spotted the scroll lying on the table. You made no effort to divert his attention.

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke. "(L/n) (Y/n)…that your name?"

"Yes, though I rarely hear it anymore."

"Would he be in the dungeons right now? My father, I mean." He was deep in thought, incredibly serious.

Your gaze strayed - this boy was far too ethereal to be viewed by your peasant eyes. "Yes, along with the other prisoners."

"You believe me, don't you?" Shock was evident in his voice.

"Should I not?" You questioned, still refusing to glance his way.

A low chuckle tore from his lungs. "You should. How long do we have? We need a proper plan, right? Unless you're leaving me to do this alone. Something tells me you aren't willing to do that…"

"Alone, you would achieve nothing."

"Haha, well, behind every man there's a strong woman, right?" He displayed a closed-eye smile, blinding you for the few, sparing seconds you allowed yourself to witness it.

You couldn’t have realised the crimson hue worming its way on to your cheeks. "Absolutely not."

"Why're your replies so short? You not like talking to me, or something?"

Is he forgetting his reason for being here, so quickly?

"What of this plan? What of your father's fate?" You asked, hoping to remain on topic.

He chuckled again, sourly this time. "The plan…I was thinking, would it be possible to sneak him out of the dungeon? Or…replace him with someone else? I know it's horrible, and I feel awful about it, but…"

"The first one would never be possible. If we entered as two, and left as three, would you expect not to be questioned?" You bit your lip in contemplation. "On foot, journeying to the castle will take an hour. No matter our plan, we have to leave soon."

"You're right…of course you're right." He smiled, crookedly. "Is it bad to say I hate that?"

Shaking your head, you muttered, "Once in a while, the prisoners will wear masks, to shield from the jeering eyes of those in the crowd."

"So…if we had someone with a similar figure…" He trailed off.

Is this…a choice? Do I really have the option to save someone? To do a modicum of good, for once in my life? I…I have to...I cannot tear apart this family. I cannot accept that responsibility.

"Me."

The concerned expression painting his face was replaced with one of terror, of guilt. Clearly, this was an unexpected turn of events, and he opened his mouth, about to protest. He was likely to spew some nonsense regarding being young, throwing your life away…but you would remain resolute. You wouldn’t waver - not on such an important matter. As the years slowly trickled away, you had already reached a conclusion about your life, about your future. You reasoned that it wasn’t worth all the hassle, all the blood, sweat and tears. It wasn’t worth anything. So…why bother? Why bother living it, only to be thrashed around, ripped to shreds and then eventually killed, anyway? You adored nothing of yourself. You adored nothing of anyone. Without a meaning to your life, weren't you simply a husk? A broken shell of a once-pure, youthful girl?

"You?" His voice was quivering, as if he was infinitely opposed to your proposition.

A single, solemn nod confirmed his query.

"But…" He managed, trying to find a different solution. "…aren’t you the executioner? And…why does it have to be you? Can't we find someo-"

"It should be me." You cut him off, desperate to put this behind you. "I am not the only executioner. The other one…I have no doubt he will assist us, voluntarily."

All his dreadful emotions clogged his throat. The words wouldn’t exit seamlessly. "Why you? Tell me why…"

Your sigh was drawn-out, heavier than all the previous ones. "I can bear this world no longer, Takami. This job…even this house…everything is a cage, a prison. I cannot continue to live this way. I need you to understand, and respect my decision."

If not for the dire circumstances, a blush would have exploded on his face; you referred to him by name. Though…he couldn’t fathom the idea of you being separated so soon after meeting. For years, he had watched you, silently admiring all your adorable little quirks. All the features you despised, he loved with the passion of a thousand suns. To him, you weren't any less than human…no, in fact, you were a goddess, sent from the Heavens to bewitch him, to make him swoon, all while erecting an ignorant façade. He spent hours upon hours, mostly during nighttide, wondering, praying, that you had taken note of his presence…that you saw him, as you glided around the castle. He wished so desperately to be your swain, but despite being little more than a peasant boy himself, he still held the higher title. He knew of your job, but he witnessed your anguish. He observed the unrelenting tears that dripped down your face. He knew you were hurting.

Was he honestly now granting assent to your death?

"Keigo." He suddenly made a grab for your hands, feeling them callous and trembling slightly. "My name…it's Keigo."

You nodded, plunging into uncertain waters. "Keigo…"

"Please call me that, every time you address me, from now until…" His head fell; was this really happening?

Was he truly unable to stop you? Unable to change your mind? Even as this thought rocketed around his brain, he knew the truth. He couldn’t ever hope to stop you. It was clear - your decision was final.

He waited until you nodded again. "We should probably go now."

No response came, but none was necessary. The two of you ran, bounding towards the castle, side-by-side. You were determined - Keigo and his father would live. In this cold, cruel world, they would flourish…they would become something. And you would watch this, his adventure…from another plane. Perhaps it was Hell, perhaps Heaven, perhaps neither. Either way, you wouldn’t let this be the end. If you had the chance to keep walking by his side, even in death, then you would welcome it with open arms. You wouldn’t shy away from it, from providing him with security - you could ward off all the negative energy, all the malign spirits, threatening to cause him harm. You would be there.

Even in death.

The courtyard approached. Tugging on his sleeve, you directed him to a large, metal door, complete with padlocks and some ominous-looking scratch marks. So far, nobody seemed to have paid you any mind. You thrust the key into the lock, hoping that the sound of metal against metal wouldn’t attract too much unwanted attention. Keigo was fixated on the patrolling guards, who were thankfully more interested in showing off their swords to the noblewomen. You slipped inside, unnoticed. Awaiting you was Keigo's father, alongside a few others, mostly unconscious. From severe beatings, you presumed.

"(Y/n)! What is he doing here?"

You shushed him. "Shinya…I need to call in a favour."

"I have a bad feeling about this." He pointed to the two males, now attempting to comfort each other. "Does it involve them?"

He managed to unlock the shackles, so easily?

"Yes. You must listen to me - I am begging you."

He was hesitant, but replied, "Alright. What do you need?"

"I need you to execute the criminal in my steed. This, I cannot do." You answered, pouring your heart into the words.

"The criminal…" He paused. "…You are not speaking of Takami, are you?"

You shook your head. "I am afraid not."

"Then…" He sighed, as the truth dawned. "…You are speaking of yourself."

"Indeed."

A glint of sorrow lingered in his eyes. "Are you certain? You cannot recover from death."

"I am certain, beyond question." There was no hesitance in your voice, no doubt…not even a hint of anxiety.

You sounded free. At long last, you sounded free. Finally, you could dictate which path you took, and when it all ended. To object your wish now…Shinya couldn’t imagine the guilt. Forcing his heart to agree was no uncomplicated task, and he wasn’t likely to cease grieving for many moons, but…he couldn’t deny you. He couldn’t strip you of what little serenity you were able to feel, in this moment. He was already dressed in his executioner's garb, anyway. Nobody would recognise him…not until everything was over. The head probably wouldn’t be checked, either. Not for a while. By that time, Keigo and his father should be liberated, freed from the clutches of the evil King Enji Todoroki. Hopefully, they could settle within the boundaries of land of King Toshinori Yagi, or All Might, as most affectionately named him.

That loathsome, ebony robe slipped from your body, and Shinya presented you with some smaller, dirtier clothes. You didn’t mind. In fact, you relished in it. Finally, finally...something was happening on your terms. You would die, on your terms, not by the instruction of the King. And…even though it signalled the end, the extinguishing of your life…you couldn’t have been happier, in that moment.

"(Y/n)…" Your young accomplice whispered, half-adoring, half-fearful. "…Do you really intend to do this? Isn't there anything I can say, to stop you?"

What sort of…no, that would be giving himself false hope. Your intentions were crystal-clear. He couldn’t sway you. Before a single word fell from your lips, he took a chance, he grasped at straws. He did something for which he had waited a lifetime…something that ignited a passionate flame within both your hearts.

He kissed you.

Time, obligations, fate…everything ceased to exist. Your lips danced together, like they were created for that exact purpose. It felt natural…It felt right. When you parted, gazes burning into one another, everything clicked into place.

"I will always be with you, Keigo. I swear, not even death will do us part." The words you uttered…they weren't scripted, weren't rehearsed, but…maybe they had forever nestled on your tongue.

Maybe it was something I always longed to say?

A sad, little smile perched on his lips. "I know, and I will always look for you. I will see you in everyone…in everything. I will be yours, until the very end."

"I wish you would live…I wish you would marry." Your whispers caressed his ears, and he shivered.

"But you know I won't."

How things progressed so far, you knew not. A loud bell-toll, a harbinger of death, echoed across the castle. This was the end. You captured his lips again, swiftly, and then you pushed him away. He couldn’t be allowed to witness such a tragedy. He looked about to cry, about to compromise this entire plan. You placed a finger in front of your mouth, as a reminder. You wanted this. You had always wanted this. Shinya donned the mask, but you saw his strife, the melancholy swimming in his eyes. You smiled. You smiled at Shinya, at Keigo and his father, and at the glaring sun, as you were led out, into the courtyard. The mask obscured your vision, but it would have been difficult not to realise how brightly the sun was shining.

I am certain that it will shine brightest when the axe is at my neck.

In spite of the agonising loss, the newfound frigidity of his heart, Keigo ran, his father in tow. Nothing would tempt him to glance back. Nothing could. Your promise, your wish for him…all except the marriage, he would honour. To be caught now, imprisoned, killed…your bodies would never again find comfort in each other, for there was a separate, less well-kept burial space for people of the Burakumin. If he was captured, he wouldn’t be buried with you. And your spirit might wander eternally, never finding him, never achieving peace.

So, he continued to run, tears cascading from his eyes. It seemed merely a second, but the reality was hazy. He was panicking now, whispering, then screaming at the top of his lungs. He knew it was idiotic, he knew it was a death sentence, but he was lost...so, hopelessly lost.

"Father! Father, where are you? Answer me, please!"

That wasn’t the man with whom his body collided. His tears were incessant, stinging.

This…this was a Royal Guard.

In an instant, he shattered all your hopes…all your dreams. A crow, no…perhaps three crows, flew close, carried by the gentle wind. Keigo collapsed, exhaustion, shock and unadulterated grief stabbing at his heart. Your head had just rolled…hadn’t it?

[Word Count: 4128]