#GET OFF MY BLOG YOU LEECH

[redroom-rainbowguts]

Hmm, needs more whimsy *spills blood*

[cuntdevil]

★ SORRY WON'T HEAL EVERYTHING !

you've been lying to megumi, saying that you need his help in organic chemistry, when in actuality, you just want to be in close proximity.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, megumi fushiguro, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 6472 words !

╰┈➤ aged up!megumi fushiguro, tutor!megumi fushiguro & rich college student!reader, crush to enemies to lovers, breaking & entering (not really but megumi & reader gets into a little tussle-ish), bickering, reader is described to have a bush, dom!reader, sub!megumi, dry humping, edging, nipple play, whining & begging, edging, multiple (2) orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl position, etc.

( author's note. ) no special note this time other than to comment & reblog with your thoughts uwu !!

The world is cruel to pretty rich girls like you. Creating a stigma that you all are just ditzy and dumb, leeching off the money that your daddy worked damn hard for and will tarnish their legacy. And it's unfortunate that people think that you'll end up the same way. Majoring in Biochemistry, people don't know how you've made it so far. Convinced that you've been sleeping your way around with the university professors to stay on top of things, or coercing the board with bribe money to continue funding the legacy admissions that continue to come. Or, you’ve been paying off your tutors to do the work for you. Either way, people have painted a fairly dark picture of you that couldn't be more wrong. 

You wouldn't say you're a genius or some sort of prodigy, but you understand the material. When you don't, you're studying your ass off and going the extra mile to make sure you do. You have access to the best learning tools there is, enrolling in subscriptions to websites to receive the guides and tips you need. You put in the work, and people reduce you to nothing just because they have their stigmas and biases on rich people. It's a shame really, but if they want to make a presumed opinion about you before knowing you, then you'll play right into their hands. 

You play the cute little bimbo that takes notes fancily, titling your notes with calligraphy pens and markers. Color-coordinates everything you do because it's pretty, and not because it'll help you retain the information better when you look over and study. You'll put down sticky notes all over your textbooks, highlighting important keywords that pop up just because the professor said so, and not because it coincides with something else and you were paying attention to it. And after the lecture, when everyone's packing up their belongings, you'll linger behind because you have so much stuff to put away. Not because you want to talk to Megumi Fushiguro, one of the top students in the class. 

When people see you sauntering over the messy-haired boy who always looks bored of everyone, they think of the typical. You're going to ask him for help when in actuality, you'll pay him just enough to get him to do your work for you. You're lucky enough that the professors know that your work is legitimate as you've spoken to them outside of class for them to collect that much from you. So, they don't bat an eye when you're calling for the boy's name as he's ready to leave. “Fushiguro, can you wait a minute?”

You catch him off guard the moment he turns around and realizes that it's you. His eyes widen before he controls his composure, returning to his slouched pose and waiting for you to catch up. “Yeah?”

You're polite, holding your hand out as you introduce yourself. “Hey, I'm (Y/N).”

He takes it, feeling the smoothness of the palm of your hand. You smile widely, eyes beaming brightly as the corner of your lips only expand. “Hi. I would introduce myself, but it seems like you already knew my name, so…”

“Oh, well, yeah,” you shrug sheepishly. “I've heard the professor call it out a few times or so. Anyway—” It feels harder than you thought it would, approaching him to ask for help. Truth be told, you're lying under the jurisdiction that you need assistance in the class. You need far from it, but you've seen him from time to time, developing a small crush on him and apprehensive on how you should approach him. You thought this would be the best and most believable way. “—I wanted help on the next assignment. You seem to know the material really well, too. I'll pay you! Just tell me your rate! It won't be a problem.”

It won't be a problem. Tch. Megumi can't help but wonder if he's your next victim. That he'll be the next fool struggling to finish his own assignments on top of yours. While the extra money does sound good, he has more dignity than that and so should you. “I'm sorry, but I'm busy.”

He doesn't give you the opportunity to say anything else before he's heading through the double doors of the lecture room. 

The next time you run into Megumi, it's at the courtyard and you have more confidence than you did the last time. Maybe you shouldn't though because he's hanging out with his friends. One a boy with pink hair that has adorable brown eyes that resemble a puppy and the next a girl with auburn brown hair that stops at her shoulders. The two seem to be arguing over something while Megumi's face is on his phone. 

“Fushiguro, hey!” He recognizes your voice now, and he lets out a dreadful sigh before he turns around. Yuuji and Nobara have thankfully stopped their pointless bickering because of you, so he should be an ounce but grateful. When he spins around in his seat, you're wearing a cute little get up. A denim jeans skirt that falls mid thigh and a silk baby pink top with bows on the shoulder. You adorn goddess braids that are pulled up in a half-up, half-down do— a bow holding the ponytail together as well. You look cute. 

“Hey,” his dryness should let you know perfectly clearly that he doesn't bother, but you're a stubborn girl. You had talked yourself over the entire ordeal for the past two days since and didn't let it deter you. You just instilled the hopefulness that he truly was busy and needed to get to his next class. Now, he was available and you could properly talk to him. 

“We didn't really get to talk properly last time,” you beam. “I know you said you're busy, so I want to say that I don't have a problem doing it whenever you're available. I can give you my number and we—”

“Can we talk in private, please?” Megumi asks, seeing that you were serious in regards to a tutoring session. You nod, humming out an ‘mhm’ as Megumi gets up and leads you to somewhere secluded and where his friends can't hear nor watch. When he's a safe distance away, he turns to you as you still look so expectant and hopeful. Part of him is starting to think you genuinely need help, but his bias starts speaking against him. 

“Look,” Megumi starts. “I don't have enough time in my day to do the workload for both me and you. I'm being nice when I say find someone else to do your work for you and leave me alone.”

Your face falls, to what Megumi believes to be your hopes of getting the easy way out of the next Organic Chemistry assignment being crushed. However, it's more-so annoyance than anything else as you become heated in it. Megumi's about to leave when your voice rings in his ears. “Did you really think I took time out of my day twice to ask you to help me cheat?”

“What?” He asks, taken aback.

“You heard me,” you snap. “Do you really think that if I wanted someone to do my homework, that I wouldn't just find the next guy smart enough to do it for me? For a smart guy, you're really clueless.”

“T-then, what?” Megumi clears his voice. “Did you really need help? I'm sorry if you did—”

“Honestly, I already had the work done,” you prop a hand on your hip, frowning. “And no, I didn't need to pay someone to do it for me. And I didn't use the internet.

“You know what I really hate about people,” you continue to drone on. “I hate that they would just jump to conclusions rather than get to know someone to know that, hey! They're actually smart. But no, you guys would rather go with the presumption that all rich people cheat their way out through life. Yeah, I have a card in my father's name to buy what I need and want, but he's too prideful to pass his name down to a girl that can't tell the difference between rDNA and DNA, so yeah, it's not as easy for me as it looks!

“To think I had an inkling of a crush on you that I was desperate enough to ask you to tutor me under the hoax of needing help, when you're just a stuck up asshole like the rest of them. Ugh, this was such a waste of my time!”

This time, you're the one to leave Megumi speechless, stomping off to your next class. 

Megumi didn't realize how many classes you had together, but you did. Whenever you made eye contact with him, you turned immediately back around. Whenever he was close to approaching you ready to apologize, you were out the door in a flash. He must've really worked you up to the point that you quit your facade, raising your hand more in class to answer questions. You even started correcting him during the lectures, having students stunned when the professor had confirmed that you were, in fact, correct. It had his ears red when Inumaki nudged him and snickered at how you one-upped him.

However, in Organic Chemistry, you're staggering. Try to stuff all of your things inside your bag because honestly, you do like making your notes pretty— for the pretty colors and for better retaining the information. You're close to sipping your bag shut when something falls out, your pencil pouch again. Someone beats you to it, picking it up for you right as you're trying to maneuver things around. 

“Thank you,” you begin to ramble. “I packed so much stuff today, and I honestly really didn't need to because the professor didn't even end up asking for them. Like—”

When you look to see who it is, you're quick to shut your mouth and give him the cold shoulder once again. Your time is dry, just as he was with you once upon a time. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” Megumi sighs, grabbing your wrist when you're ready to head on out. “Please, just listen to me.”

“Oh?” You cross your arms. “Like how you were so willing to listen to me.”

“I'm sorry—”

“Apology forgiven. Bye,” you cut him short, trying to leave his tight grasp around your wrist, but he won't budge. 

“You were right,” he admits. “I was being an asshole, and jumped right at the gun, thinking what everyone else was thinking. They just said you were some spoiled rich kid and I believed them right away. My apology is crappy and you don't have to forgive me, but if you really want that tutoring session, it'll be free of charge. I'm available on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursday afternoons.”

He reaches for a crumbled paper in his pocket, which you hesitate to take. When it's in your grasp, he finally lets go. “Call me or text me when you're available.”

You pout, not liking how your heart is skipping a beat when you look up at him. Your wall is quickly breaking as you stumble on your hips. You can only get yourself to mumble, “I’m busy,” before you're grabbing your bag. Completely forgetting about your pencil pouch. 

—

You don't realize you've been missing your pencil pouch for four days straight. In your defense, Organic Chemistry is your last class of the week, so you have a huge chunk of time in between it. You had emailed your professor about it, but she had said that didn't it see it when you left. You checked the campus’s lost and found and even reached out to the custodial staff to see if they had found it when they were cleaning, but to no avail. It was just a pouch that you could easily replace at the snap of a finger, but you hated not trying to look for something before spending money. Trying to retrace your steps, you're wondering if you were with anyone the last time you had it— fuck. 

You curse to yourself incessantly as you realize that maybe he picked it up when you had forgotten it. If so, why hasn't he returned it to you? Is this some sick tactic of his for you to reach out to him? He did give you his number, after all. Groaning, you feel like you'd rather buy a new pencil case at this point in time. 

You find yourself an easily forgiving person. Knowing that if you messaged him, you'd forget what he did to make you upset in the first place and easily break your resolve. For once in your life, you wanted to stay angry for a decent amount of time before reaching out again. You are proud of yourself, though, because he apologized to you first. However, you didn't want to falter so easily and forgive him just yet. No, he could wait a little longer until you're ready to message him. 

Two hours pass until you have the phone in your hands, fishing for the slip of paper that you had to fish from your dirty laundry hamper after shoving it in your pocket that day. You luckily found it, not thinking twice when you dialed his number in your phone and saved it under Fushiguro. 

to fushiguro: hey. it's y/n. do you have my pencil pouch by any chance? 

You didn't want to further elaborate on it, hoping that he knew what you were talking about the moment you hit send. When Megumi received the message of an unknown number, seeing a sliver of it that revealed your name, he sat up on his dorm bed as he clicked open. Reading the message in its entirety, he was close to saying yes and that he would return it to you next class, but he remembered what he told himself. He wanted you to talk to him, to schedule a tutoring session. And he'll make you do it the best way he knows how. 

to you: sorry, but we're able to compute that. please message with your preferred tutoring date, time and preferred meeting spot. 

It was stupid, but he was hoping it would work. He figured that he could annoy you to the point where you would give in and set up one, or you'd block him and he'd finally take the hint that you don't want to talk to him ever again. But, he really wanted to address the fact that you went through all of this because you liked him. It warmed his heart. 

You frowned at the message, rolling your eyes as you quickly grew agitated. Was he really going to do this right now?

to fushiguro: are you kidding me rn?

to fushiguro: fushiguro, if you don't answer me seriously, i'm going to block you!

from fushiguro: im calling your bluff. schedule an appointment if you want your pencil pouch back.

to fushiguro: no. give it back to me at org chem. 

from fushiguro: no. 

to fushiguro: fuck you.

to fushiguro: im being so serious. fuck you. 

Megumi curses to himself, never registering that he could piss you off this bad. However, he was adamant on meeting you in private. You didn't realize that in your pouch, you had labeled your dorm room number in case it got lost. When he messaged you again, you blocked him. 

—

There's a knock on your room door as you're underneath the covers of your bed, the lights off as you're doom scrolling. You pause, sure that your roommate had brought her key along with her. Unless she had lost it— that would be the third time this year. Grumbling, you jump from out of the bed, “Maki, if you lost your key again, I swear to God! I'm not going to open the door for you anymore—”

“Please!” Megumi begs. “Don't shut the door on me!”

“I'm going to file a harassment report on you,” you sneer, trying to shut the door but he's wedged his foot between the frame to block you from doing so.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry,” Megumi whines out. “Please, just listen.”

“I did and I said you were forgiven,” you groan, trying to kick his foot from between, but he's being such an ass— a strong one at that. 

“But you don't mean it,” Megumi huffs. “And, I have your pencil pouch, right here. I can give it to you if you just let me in.”

“Not in a fat chance,” you pant as Megumi's come to wedge his body inside. “You're starting to become really weird, y’know. It's not that deep. It's just a pencil case.”

“Says the girl—” Megumi exhales, finally halfway inside. “—that texted me for it.”

He nearly knocks you down with the brute force he has to use to get inside. You stumble back as you nearly lose your footing. You catch yourself against the dresser, pushing yourself back on your feet as Megumi stands inside. You're breathing heavily as you both collect yourself. You've given up, seeing the stakes that he was willing to take for you to talk to him. You surrender, your hands falling to the side as he stands before you in silence. “You're inside my room now. Say what you have to say.”

Now that he was here, Megumi didn't know what to say. He takes a look around, noticing your choice of decoration. Your side of the room is simple, a pink tapestry hung with floral designs with a cork board hanging over your bed— important dates, photos and sticky notes attached to it. On your desk, you have your notebooks and textbooks aligned where tabs are neatly placed inside it. He shuffles toward them and you don't say a word, watching as he flips through them. You've taken elaborate notes, have study guides and print outs annotated. They're better than his own.

“Wow,” he chuckles to himself. “I really underestimated you.”

“Is this what you came to do?” You ask him, sitting on your bed as you observe the boy. “Look through my things and violate my privacy?”

“You can report me after this,” Megumi says. “I deserve it.”

“You sure as hell do,” you mumble. “Can't believe I had a crush on a creep.”

There's that word again. Crush. Megumi looks over at you, his face heating up at the thought. “Do you really— have a crush on me?”

“I did,” you correct him, though you're lying to yourself. “Before I found out you’re an asshole and a creep.”

“Why?” The question catches you off guard, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him in your sitting position. 

“Why, what?” You ask for elaboration. “Why did I have a crush on you?”

Megumi nods, cheeks tinted in a deep shade of red that it's nearly concerning. “What made you attracted to me?”

“I don't know,” you shrug, placing your hands in your lap as you begin to fiddle with them. “You're cute. I mean, you have messy jet black hair that I’d love to play in, and these serious blue eyes that I'd want to make lighter. But, when you frown, I also find it cute.”

Megumi grows even more flustered, finding himself looking away. “You're also cute when you blush.”

Megumi finds the courage to sit on the edge of the bed, close to you. “You can… You can play with my hair now— if you want.”

And you hate it. You hate it how cute he looks right now, eyes pleading with yours and asking you to touch him. And how your body wants to give in and lean in. And they do. They have a mind of their own as Megumi's body leans against yours, giving you better access to his head. It's comforting, running your hands into his locks. 

He can feel your heartbeat against him, how it's grown calmer by the second as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. “You're also very smart,” you continued. “I liked that about you, but then…”

“I'm sorry,” Megumi whispers. There's a big pause.

“Yeah,” you hum. “You keep saying that.”

Megumi pulls away from you, getting on all fours as he crawls. You scooch further, wondering what he's doing until your back hits the headboard having you pinned down. His eyes seem sincere this time when he says it. “I mean it, (Y/N). I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you breathe, his face inching closer to yours that you can feel the heat of him. Your heart's starting to pound again as all rationality flies out the window, telling you to push him off and grow a backbone. However, you know that this has gone long enough and that you truly did forgive him the moment he apologized the first time. You were just being petty. 

“Please forgive me.”

“I do, Fushiguro.”

“Call me Megumi.” There was a small measure of uncertainty. If he should really do this, what he's about to do. His fingers linger on your face, your beautiful skin as he looks down on your plump lips. You lick the bottom lip, and in his mind it's so tantalizingly slow that you must be purposely teasing him. His thumb reaches for it, gliding against the skin before his eyes are meeting yours again. It's faint, your nod, but he notices it. It gives him the courage to make your lips touch, his pink ones against yours. 

It's chaste and dry at first, both of you testing and tasting the waters before you're both pulling away. There's a cloud full of need inside the two of you, a thin layer of arousal sprouting out of you as his chest presses against yours. Enveloped in each other's heat as Megumi comes to push a few strands of hair out of your face. Your hand comes next to caress him, mustering the confidence for both of you to really dive in the waters. 

He tasted of spearmint and strawberries. You, the sweet artificial flavor of cherries. It's addictive as Megumi finds himself moaning into your lips first. You find yourself giggling against him when he pulls away, wanting to apologize yet again. However, you seize the opportunity to flip him over, catching him off guard as his eyes widen and you pin down his arms. This change of position, he has no problem with it. Eyes glossing, his hands instinctively find your hips, pulling them into him as you feel his growing erection. 

With a breathy sigh, underneath your flimsy shorts, you can feel him. Feel his cock hardening underneath you as you press your hips down on him, putting all your weight on the poor boy's groin. You rock your hips gently just to tease him, feeling your own cunt clenches at how quickly Megumi grew aroused. But who are you kidding? So did you. 

He’s hard inside his pants, loose fitted sweats where the material is thin. You’re wearing shorts that barely cover your ass, feeling how he continues to harden underneath you. Your languid movements, how your hips sensually as you rock back and forth. The hem of your tank top is riding up, revealing an inch of skin as a cute happy trail becomes visible. Megumi finds his hands roaming to your hips, pulling you to ground yourself against him before you swat away his arms and lean down to his level. Pretty plump lips that are close to his as he’s got no other choice but to look at you so close up. They curve into a smile, a small giggle leaving you before you’re licking at them and making them shine. “No touching.”

Megumi lets out a whimper in protest, daring to return his fingers to grip at your waist, but you grab ahold of them before they make contact. Your gaze is sharper, glaring at the boy as he can only mewl out, “Why not?”

“Why not?” Your manicured nails are sharp, digging into his pale skin that it’ll surely bruise. However, he can only feel himself twitch into the pain as you move against him, tutting out a sound of disapproval and looking down at him as though he’s stupid. “After you’ve been so mean to me, you think you deserve to touch me?”

“S-sorry,” he apologizes, but this time it doesn’t meet his eyes. Only leaving his lips in a desperation for your touch. Sorry, sorry, sorry. You come to roll your eyes as it becomes more meaningless everytime he says it. With both of his hands in your tight hold, you bring them to pin them over his head and pull Megumi in for a kiss. He moans into your lips, his pelvis jutting upwards in a need for more. To feel the friction and heat of your pussy against him. You let out a breath, a high-pitched squeak that leaves you as your tongue dives into his mouth. 

His body has fallen so eager to you, begging for any close proximity that you can give him. The warmth of your body being too much that already he feels himself near, how he can imagine his length flushed in a red so needy that he’s ready to combust. “I—please…”

His face heats up in a bright shade of crimson that it’s nearly concerning. He finds himself embarrassed about how worked up he got over just you kissing him and the buck of your hips. You find it cute. You can feel his cock twitch underneath you fortunately, and you stop before he can spill himself inside his pants. The moment your weight isn’t pressed down into him, he whines in protest as his blue eyes look for yours in pleading. You shake your head, bottom lips poking out in a pout. “Nuh uh,” you say. “Can't have you wasting yourself in your pants.” Even if it’ll be the hottest thing you’ll ever see. 

Still, there’s a wet patch in his pants, darkening the material as you slot yourself in between his legs. His shirt has ridden up considerably, revealing most of his stomach and the short pebbles of hair leading down to his length. Your touch is cold. Megumi shivers underneath it as you tuck your fingers underneath his pants and underwear, tugging it down slowly in exaggeration to reveal his cock to you. Shaft and balls a dusty pink with the head of him bright with need. Where he’s not too gifted in girth, he’s been blessed with a slightly over average cock that’ll surely be enough to reach your g-spot. Pre leaks from his tip, jolting ever so slightly at the cold air engulfing the room. 

You hum in delight, finding him so pretty like this. His shirt rose and his pants pooling at the ankles before you can remove them completely. He pants heavily, a visceral desire reverberating off of his chest as you leave him wanting for more. To have you over him like this, his pupils dilate as he watches you crawl over him and reach to pull off his shirt. When he’s completely bare underneath you, he lays down pliantly as he waits for your next move. You can do anything to him, he wouldn’t care, he just needed you. 

With his length hitting his lower stomach, you’ve positioned yourself to how you previously were and returned to your teasing movements, rocking against his length. It’s overwhelming, but in a way that doesn’t have him begging to leave. He keeps his arms over his head, his short stubby nails doing nothing as his fingers dig in his flesh. Again, your chest is pressed against his as you kiss him, tasting you and loving what he receives.

How did these events transpire? If someone were to ask you, your mind would go blank, only happy with the outcome of it all. You hold Megumi’s face in your hands, caressing his cheeks as your tongue dances against his. Filled with so much fervor as your movements sound the gentle creaks of the bed, you have to restrain yourself from what you truly want. How you truly want him to fill you up and give you what you’ve been craving this entire time. But, he looks so handsome like this— watching how his face heats up with either lust or embarrassment, or how he moans and whines against you. To feel how you’ve had him on the brink of an orgasm just from kissing alone, it’s enough to build up your ego, never having a man like this. It’s usually the opposite. 

When you detact your lips from his, a string of saliva is attached, becoming thinner and thinner until it snaps. Megumi’s blue eyes have darkened significantly, pink lips opened up slightly as he takes you in. Taking in your absolute beauty as you’re still clothed. Under your tank top is nothing, forgoing a bra and your nipples are poking through. They rub against the fabric in heavy need, and he can only imagine how they’d feel in his mouth.

“Can you take off your top?” His voice is low, coming out breathy as his mouth waters. He’s afraid that you’ll say no, so he makes eye contact with you, eyes widened in a begging motion as he adds, “Please.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart flutter and before you can thoroughly think it through, your arms cross as you pull up your shirt. Your breasts spill out of the tight fitted top, dropping out like a breath of relief. Dark areolas that are puckered as your nipples stand out prominently. Megumi’s body has a mind of its own, sitting up on the bed before you can completely register as he takes you ahold of him and drags you down to lay on top of him. His mouth opens to suck you, and you can feel the warmth of his lips as he lets out a wanton moan.

It’s dragged out as he can taste your skin, feel how your back arches into him as you can only succumb to the pleasure. Your hips buck against him, pressing against his cock as he continues to leak precum. The translucent mess sticking to your bottoms as he holds your waist tightly against him as he ruts himself into you. The salt of your skin is quickly washed away as he sucks and nips at the pebbles, seemingly wanting for something to come out of you.

His eyes are shut as his grip on you is tight and forcing your hips to ground against him as you call out his name. “M-Megumi…”

Such a quick turn of events as your mouth hangs open as he moves you how he wants, tightly ground him as he rocks his hips into you. He alternates between your breasts, giving them equal opportunities of love as you can feel your slick sticking to your underwear. Your juices pool at the amount of friction against you. You can feel Megumi’s erection against your covered cunt, and the wetness of each other against it. It feels so dirty and so nasty, but simultaneously all too good to pull away from each other. 

“You feel so good,” Megumi breathes against you, feeling that familiar knot within his stomach as his cock twitches. And he’s greedy, not wanting to stop in fear that you’ll edge him again. “P–please… Make me feel even better.”

“I will…” you draw out, voice getting higher. “I will. Just— Don’t stop right now!”

Megumi shakes his head in promise, his hold on you getting impossibly tighter. “I won’t. Trust me.”

There’s a huge wet patch on your shorts now, the cotton in your panties being too weak to hold all of your juices in as Megumi beckons that much from you. You continue to grow aroused the more he moans against you, sucking on your breasts and kneading them with heavy devotion. However, those same moans become more choked and staggered as you feel his length against you, a wetness foreign to yours leaking from him. Cumming all over your shorts as his lips finally leave your breasts to get ahold of himself. Eyes shut as his eyebrows knit together before he’s returning back to you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes open again yet hazy. That same pink tint returns to his cheeks and you can anticipate what’s about to leave it next.

“Don’t say it,” you giggle, putting a finger on his lips. His eyes widen before he’s chuckling, about to say it again before he can catch himself. Instead, he replaces it with, “Okay.”

Soon enough do you replace the word from his vocabulary, stripping yourself out of your shorts and down to your soaked panties. Your juices stick to your inner thighs as you push the crotch of your underwear to the side and leave Megumi a short period of time to ogle your bare cunt. It’s such a beautiful sight to behold, the dark curls of your happy trail leading to the little bush that you adorn. How he’d like to run his fingers along the tufts of hair, but you’ve got his hands up again, commanding him not to touch. Your folds glisten magnificently in the lighting as Megumi’s dark pupils are trained on your pussy, watching how your essence sticks to them.

With the cum that sticks to his stomach, you use a finger to collect the strays and paint it over your clit. He watches in awe, the white painting to the contrast of your dark nub and into the hairs. It’s messy and downright disgusting how you’re playing in his release, but it has his cock needy in delight and anticipation. Your pussy envelopes his shafts, painting him in your sweet nectar that has him wondering if it’s the forbidden fruit. And if so, would you be willing to let him have a taste? Would God allow him to?

His tip kisses your entrance, nearly bringing him to his second release when you sink down onto him. It’s so dramatically slow, or maybe that’s mind conjuring that, beckoning himself to disobey you and pull you down against him to sheath himself completely inside you. Your hole swallows him up like corset strings continuing to pull and pull. You’re an enchanting temptress hovering over his body as your walls suck him in whole. It’s a miracle how he hasn’t succumbed to his wants by now.

You feel full, feeling how his cock has embedded itself inside you. Your pussy clenches around him, a sigh leaving your lips of true satisfaction. You still yourself for a moment, body going unmoving as he watches Megumi from below. He looks so in awe as though he’s in complete adoration of you and your body. His hands twitch overhead as you know he wants more than nothing that touch you again, wanting to feel the warmth of your skin as you fuck yourself on his cock. You’re amazed by him, how he keeps such a calm and collected composure inside of the classroom. Making him appear as he has everything together, but here he is— underneath you and you have his entire composure falling apart in a matter of seconds. How he was eager to have you play in his hair and shortly disintegrated into a thousand tiny pieces the moment you kissed him.

How he went under great lengths to try and prove that he’s truly sorry. You wonder how he feels, believing that the pretty rich girl that he thought was stupid now has him to the point where he can’t even think a coherent thought outside of your pussy. He’s come to believe that your cunt is magical and how it’s managed to make him come undone in such a short period of time. And when you start bouncing on his cock, you have him completely enamored. 

Your breasts move up and down at the pace you’ve set, already having him a moaning mess. The stench of sex reeks throughout the dorm room, your juices and Megumi’s release being so potent that your roommate will scorn you and have you spray air freshener until it’s gone and can’t smell a trace of it. Skin slapping against skin and your wanton moans filling the air as neither of you are quiet and you show no ounce of remorse for those next door hearing it. The bed creaks with your movement, and you’re watching how your juices stick to him every time you meet his pelvis. 

You’re focused on your pleasure, using his cock to get you off as you bounce and grind against his length. Pressing into him, his tip kisses at your g-spot, having you mewl against him as you fall into his chest. Breasts pressed into his chest, based on muscle memory, your lips find his in a matter of seconds as you continue to fuck his cock. Your pussy wraps him in a tight grip, having Megumi moan out against you. They’re swallowed away, but he doesn’t care. 

You find yourself gnawing at Megumi’s bottom lip when you feel your release approaching you, that familiar coil in your stomach greets you. Your mouth goes dry as your eyes squeeze shut as your teeth let go of Megumi’s lips. You don’t have to utter a word for him to know that you’re close. Your impending orgasm only eggs his on as he moves inside you. When your movements become more sporadic as your thighs begin to shake, it’s as though your body is control of his, commanding him to cum alongside you. Your juices seep down, adorning his cock in your creamy essence as continuously milks his cock. A white ring forms at the base as your cunt grows messy itself, the mixture of cum twirling itself inside of your pretty little bush as you ride out your orgasm. You whine at the overstimulation, your clit rubbing against Megumi as it becomes sensitive. 

Together, the two of you pant until that lust-blown fog is cleared from your minds and you’re staring into his eyes. Those blue eyes that stared back at you with so much lust and adoration. When you’re both breathing steadily, you lay your head in the crevice of his neck and feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. 

It’s his turn to play in your hair, messing with the braids and the curled locks of hair that reside outside of it. He comes to chuckle, the vibration jolting you up as you shift. His cock still inside you, your movement has him groaning when you look up at him in curiosity. “What?”

You’ll probably slap him for this. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi I see your requests are open (btw love ur blog) could I possibly request Rook, Idia, Azul, and Floyd falling for the “my boyfriend left you can come over” text prank? Pls pls pls 🥺

Azul Ashengrotto:

Not that it’s a great prank to play on anyone, but Azul who is already riddled with trust issues would especially not appreciate it. He doesn’t address it immediately but it’s due to his internal panic over the situation, thinking you wouldn’t be so stupid as to text him something meant for another person and that if you had, you would’ve tried to cover for yourself at least. But there’s always a part of his brain that’s ready for disaster, that activates the second something potentially devastating lined itself up to happen and it completely throws Azul off his normal logical conclusions. You do notice he’s a little more emotional than normal, getting snippy with you and refusing to look at you; it doesn’t get better when you tell him it was just a prank, wondering why you had entirely ruined his day just to get a laugh.

Idia Shroud:

Can one person be double cursed? Because Idia felt double cursed. He stared at the text, trying to pick it apart, analyze different meanings, figure out what you were trying to actually say but was instead autocorrected to this extremely unsettling text. His logic skill wasn’t high enough to figure out this minigame and he almost texted you to ask what you meant but paused, realizing his social skill wasn’t high enough for him to send one out about the topic of you potentially cheating on him. He would normally torture newbies online to get out his feelings but he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, sitting with his knees brought up to his chest and lamenting his inability to recognize that your relationship points had fallen so low. There’s relief that comes with knowing it was just a prank, proven by Ortho doing a quick internet search, but you see the tiniest tinge of red flutter through his hair even as he tells you he’s fine.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had never whipped around so quick in his entire life, kicking the door to your room in and glaring at you with a knowing look. You’re unable to stop your giggling though some of it might be from nerves, as dealing with a grumpy eel was never the most fun. He whined at you for trying to play a mean trick on him, asking if you wanted to be squeezed that bad; you knew exactly what he was like when he was jealous and you couldn’t help but want to see a little more. There weren’t many people stupid enough to flirt with you when they knew who you were dating so you had to make your own fun, but having Floyd wrapped around you and refusing to leave your side until this potential ‘other person’ showed up was making you think twice about any future pranks.

Rook Hunt:

Rook doesn’t fall for it. He knows you’re just teasing in your normal playful way, trying to pull a reaction out of him which made him chuckle. You kept his daily life interesting so he couldn’t take your little prank personally, but he knew you inside and out. He would hold your face with his hand, delicately caressing your skin as he talked about your scent, one that he had memorized as he held you close each night. The only man he had ever smelled on you was himself, and since he didn’t pick up on anything unfamiliar, he concluded right in front of you that you couldn’t possibly be cheating on him. He pressed his nose into your neck, whispering against your skin that if you didn’t want him to go you just had to say as such.  

[squiddy-god]

cute aggression (floyd)

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme

Fast steps ran echoed down the halls. Long legs and teal blue hair rushing in a blur, Barling twords a single smaller figure.

Long arms wraping around the smaller (y/n) as Floyd let out a loud laugh while he squeezed you tightly against his chest. You giggled and you shuffled around in his vice like grip to squeeze him back.

“Aahahahahaha kobie-chans so cute! ” Releasing you from his arms his large hands came up to squish your cheeks.

“Haha Floyd stooopp my cheeks are gonna hurt” You giggled as he released your cheeks pouting slightly.

“Awwwwe but I wanna squeeze ya! ”

“Maby later, I gotta head to class” You said back poking his cheek slightly.

Floyd laced your hand in his and started walking in long strides towards your classroom. He walked happily as he began to swing your hands back and forth with a sharp smile.

This always happened, Floyd would spot you from across the Hall or mostro lounge and be filled with the urge to squeeze you, you were just so cute he wanted to wrap around you nice and tight. A sweet squeeze that somehow never seemed to be to tight. He squeezed your hands in his and pinched your cheeks when he saw you. Anyone with eyes and a brain could tell he thought you were the cutest thing.

Finally reaching your class room he gave you a finale tight hug before skipping off happily to his next class.

Giveing you a tight squeeze never failed to bring him joy. When he was in a mood swing he always seemed to seek you out for a hug and copious amounts of cuddles to lighten his mood. Whenever you swam or could be in water was his favorite tho. Being able to wrap around your body completely in his eel form brought a sharp tooth smile to his face.

He always squeezed cute things, from stuffed animals to people and the adorable fishies he’d find in his ocean home. To Floyd you were by far the cutest thing he’d seen, and so he squeezed you as much as he could. Cuddles and tight hugs were a absolute must for the young merfoke.

☆♬○♩●♪✧♩♩✧♪●♩○♬☆

‘Finally out of class’ you thought as a long sigh escaped you. Math was always the worst class and you felt absolutely exhausted after the hour long lecture on magic trigonometry, wich was somehow worse then normal trigonometry.

You walked down the long halls of NRC to the mirror room.

'Hehe I’m shure Floyd would like if I paid him a visit today’ and with thought you walked through the mirror leading you to the dorm of your loveable boyfriend.

Walking into the morstro lounge you were greeted by the one and only azul. He walked up to you with his usual “customer service” Smile in order to greet you.

“ Ah hello (y/n), I assume your looking for Floyd?” He asks

“Yah I thought I’d pay him a visit today, if he’s not to busy of course! ” You didn’t want to disrupt him if he was working or anything.

“No, no, he’s in his room right now and I’m shure he’d be over joyed to see you” Azul said, amused with how worried you got over the chaotic leech twin.

“Ah! Well then I’ll go surprise him! ” You smiled and waved goodbye to azul.

Walking to Floyds room you couldn’t help but grin at the thought of a happy Floyd.

Knocking in a Ryrithym on his door you hurd him say come in. You opened the door and walked in, closeing it behind you.

“Hey hey Floyd~ guess who-” You couldn’t finish your sentence as you were swooped up into a vice like squeeze.

Floyd spun around a big laughing before falling back on his bed with you in his arms tightly.

“Awww did my little Kobie-chan come to visit me~” He asked as he snuggled further into your (h/c) hair.

“Of corse I did! I wanted to see my favorite eel! ” You giggled as you hugged him back and gave a little peck on his cheek.

Of corse this wasn’t enough for Floyd and he wanted more kisses from his Kobie-chan. He began peppering you face with little kisses being shure to not get your lips. You giggled at the ticklish pecks before you gave him one on the lips. He let out a giggle of his own and his arms wrapped tighter around you.

“I love you (y/n)~ my little Kobie-chan

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's "Ghostly Gossip"! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" now introducing our second student entry for the blog... 'some guy I found on my grandma's attic'-- huh..? Wait, who wrote that down?? "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

Messy (but progressively getting better) design notes:

Epel was one of those designs that just clicked instantly with me, I had a vision of the basics I wanted all sorted in my head even before I gathered most reference pics. I don't expect this to happen again to a majority of the remaining cast though 😫

Watching those doll restoration/repainting videos while drawing helped me set the general mood I wanted for him, even though the final result doesn't show much of this inspiration, at least in my opinion... I love the makeup and face painting details these artists put on the dolls, but I was afraid too much of that would make his design too heavy-looking combined with the rest of the outfit. If I ever decide to design alternative outfits for this series, I'll try to show off more of this lost aspect there

For the character in itself now, I imagine him in this AU to be more free to do and act however he wants compared to his og universe counterpart. Still being supervised by Vil, but not in the same level as before. Probably the reason why he got all those scratches and cracks on his body, I like to think he's having a little more fun with being a gremlin and running around all he wants lol. And due to that, his skin care routine baisically consists in Elmer's glue, to stick any broken porcelain shards together. Vil is not exactly content about that, but he lets most of it slide at this point 👍

Epel's totally the type of kid who goes around the gardens to casually collect bugs like he's in animal crossing. Like this video I found on reels, which I don't reccomend watching if you have a phobia of spiders/insects/bugs/snakes/frogs/etc cause, you know. But anyway I think MH Epel holds this exact energy and it's- kinda terrifying! In a good way though. come on let this kid be a kid for once. I also think this more playful part of him fits well with the fact that he's a little doll. OH and the fact that og Epel grew up around the elderly back in his hometown kinda makes sense in this universe too, like, he's the type of doll some grandparents would keep in their old house as a family relic or something. Could very much be the beggining of a horror story.

[mustainegf]

Hi Elena!

I took a deep breath and assembled my guts to send a non-anonymous request 😂.

It’s the classic trope of being James’s controversially younger GF. She has a secret insta account so she occasionally checks the comments. And many people criticize her for being a gold digger and using James to get famous (despite she got no official social media accounts and doesn’t do events, unless she’s there with James). But she’s mostly saddened because they criticize him and call him a pervert for being with a much younger woman. So she decides to break up with him for his sake and public image, but never tells him it was because of cyber bullying.

And maybe a few weeks after the break up, one of other band members shows him the comments and some fans are celebrating that they broke up. And he realizes the true reason for the break up? And in the end, they reconcile and maybe he makes a statement asking everyone to respect his personal life?

I’m a big fan your blog, so hopefully you’ll like the request sgd will consider writing a story 😊. No pressure though))

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ²⁰²³

Just all attention that I never wanted, and people obviously stared, judged, and picked apart everything that I was doing, making me super exposed in the most unimaginable way. But yeah, that is a given when you're dating somebody like James Hetfield. Perhaps his name fills up stadiums and blows up newsfeeds.

So looking back, I didn't know what lay ahead as I met him. It was obviously just me and him at first, laughing at little stuff and having a good time over music and life. It was like finally, here's someone who understands me in a way nobody ever has. But man, it all flipped once we went public.

It just seemed like, overnight, it wasn't just us anymore. I never thought it would blow up this bad. People thought I was in it for all the wrong reasons, that I was a gold digger trying to leech off of his fame. But to be honest, the worst of it all wasn't even what they said about me, it was the stuff they said about him.

"He's a pervert."

"How could he be with someone so young?

"They look ridiculous together."

All that that was commented on, I could have completely avoided. I didn't have any social media other than this private Instagram for my use. Yet, honestly, I'd be lying if I said that I never went onto it. I would scroll through and read the comments of some random fan posting in search of some sort of acceptance. But of course, it was just the same brutal tale, the fans tore into James, calling him a creep for even dating anyone of my age.

Man, that hurt. It was not about me, the rumors and all the whispering around, I could handle it. It just was for him, you know? He was a legend, he'd given so much to the world with his music. And now, it felt like people were just using me to take shots at his legacy.

He had totally missed those comments. James wasn't the type to spend too much time online. The real world was sufficient for him.

He had been so nice to me, really supportive, and utterly clueless about all the hate coming our way. He was of the opinion that what we had was strong and would get us through anything. I wanted that to be true, too. Yet, with every post claiming him a creep, or that he's lost all his dignity, I was just simply ruining his reputation.

I liked him so much, and because of that, I made the toughest decision: I broke up with him.

I didn't tell him what it really was for. I just told him I needed space. Of course, he didn't get it. How could he? Everything was all right; there wasn't a fight or at least any huge issue.

I could definitely see the confusion and pain in his eyes as I walked out that day. It really got to me, but I kept telling myself, it's all for his good. He would be much better off in the long run rather than having me holding him back in front of his fans.

The weeks that succeeded seemed to be like a vacuum. I missed him more than I had ever thought I would: how he hummed a tune of some old song while cooking or how he stared at me as though nobody existed in a room full of people. I never changed my mind but kept my distance and followed his movements through whispers of mutual friends, sometimes in the news and other media.

So, one day, this was the fan post I came across from my secret Instagram feed: an appreciation post due to our breakup, saying, "Finally, James can move on and find someone better." Plenty of those comments, cheering on the end of us and acting like they knew what was good for him. Well to be frank, part of me was relieved; I did make the right choice.

But another part of me kinda felt gross, I guess. These people didn't know him like I did. They didn't see the dude behind the music, the one that'd hug me tight after a long day and make everything feel okay.

A few weeks passed, then finally I heard from James himself, by that time I had thought he'd moved on, found his peace in the break up. One of the band members showed him the comments, Lars, if I can recall. I didn't expect that. I thought all the poisonous words of the fans would never find their way to him, that he would never have to see just how cruel people could be. But Lars showed him, and suddenly everything came back.

I got his call pretty soon afterwards. His voice sounded just like it was then, chilled yet serious, in a continuous effort to sort out something big.

He asks, "Why didn't you just tell me.?"

Well, I played the role of clueless well, like I didn't know what he was talking about, but James really wasn't buying that. He got it, saw comments, accusations, those low remarks, judgments, and thus put them together. He knew why I had bailed.

"I thought it was best that way," I finally managed to respond.

"For who?" he asked in a voice that was slightly hoarse.

"For you," I said; my voice was all choked up. "I didn't want people constantly putting you down because of me."

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the line for a long period of time. Then he spoke again, "I don't care what they say, you know?"

All I wanted was to just have the ability to trust him, but I knew words cut, even when people act like it did not hurt. I knew how committed he was with his legacy, how the fans looked up to him. I just did not want to be that to ruin it.

"I care," I said softly. "I just can't handle them ripping you to shreds because of me."

After some time, the reply came in the form of James's soft, subdued voice, "I want you, not them."

This well of my tears, you know the ones that almost spill but hold back. He was too good, you know. He was so understanding, and all the time. Yet, I did not know whether this could mend that which already was messed up.

Days later, James gave a statement to the public. He did not name anybody, but it was like you could read between the lines. He was asking for respect, not just for himself but for the people surrounding him, he owed no one explanation for whom he chose to love, this is his own thing. And honestly, if people are not able to handle it, then maybe they were never true fans to begin with.

The weight of his words was much heavier than what I could ever have imagined. Just words, but powerful words,he was defending me, defending us, in a manner I couldn't even have imagined, and it suddenly felt like this cross of public opinion wasn't weighing on me as much as I thought it had been.

After that statement, James called me up again, and this time I didn't give it a second thought. We met, and the very moment I saw him, everything fell in place once again, the stress, the distance, just gone in his arms.

"I never wanted to hurt you," I said, my voice all shaky.

"You didn't," he said, reaching and pulling me close. "I only wish you had told me sooner."

Of course, people judge and whisper behind our backs, but honestly, that doesn't weigh me down like it used to, since now I have James with me, and I know what we have is tougher than anything those random people can say.

This time I am definitely hanging on.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

once a friend made me sit on his shoulders and carried me around, i got so shy when i realized there were some people staring at my thighs (they are already big when i sit down they get bigger, it was practically impossible to see my friend's head 🥸 ) could you do some twst boys reacting to this situation?

(I hope that didn't sound weird, I just like to see horny messed up boys)

Don't we all 😏

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sitting On Their Shoulders | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Ft. Floyd Leech, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Trey Clover

Floyd Leech

If you’ve read about Floyd on my blog its practically my own cannon that he absolutely loves it

Your weight, your thighs, the warmth of your privates at the back of his head

He loves to squeeze people and no doubt probably likes to get squeezed himself

While he typically sees being squeezed as an activity for fun its also a kind of love-language

Especially with you

So much as touching him skyrockets his mood and has him smothering you in his affection

No doubt is drooling when you squeeze around his head

He gets off to to his weak mate attempting to compete with him 

Even if that's not what your doing

He’s so close to your intimates its like he’s getting a taste before he gets the real thing

He’s not exactly sly enough to trick you so he’ll instead put you in situations where you owe him a favor

“Ne~Shrimpy you owe me! Five minutes and your not allowed to stop squeezing!”

Anyone who gets in the way will be squeezed into oblivion

He will not tolerate anyone interrupting in his (Y/n)-time

Interfering is like directly challenging an eel trying to mate

Showing that they are a rival: 

Someone who’s getting put 40ft deep into the Coral Sea if they don’t stop

“Hehe your just askin’ for me to squeeze ya into an early grave!”

Jack Howl

Blushy and trying to keep calm 

He no doubt offers his tall stature to help you fix something high up in Ramshackle

Because for some reason…some Savanna Claw students are borrowing the only ladder you were provided…

Anyway Jack is there to help

As the good friend he is 

He doesn’t mean to enjoy this so much

But your weight on his shoulders makes him proud

But the rubbing of your…against his head is driving him insane

He wants to tell you he really does

“Mmmm”

“Is there something wrong Jack? Am I too heavy?”

“No! You are perfectI mean I worry that you may be slipping…perhaps squeeze a bit tighter?”

He knows it probably isn’t right that his tail wags so intensely when all he can smell is you

But he just can’t help it!

After all he couldn’t in good conscience let anyone take this task

After all they’d take advantage of you

“If you ever need uhm a ladder again, I’d be there.”

Epel Felmier

A real man can carry anything (so they say)

So of course he’d jump at the opportunity to hold you up

All the better if your squeezing him tight

Go ahead

Go tighter

He can handle 

Don’t think he can? 

he’s squeezing your thighs tighter around his face

“Keep going (Y/n)! D’ya think I’m weak?! Try me!”

Not struggling by your weight he’s overheating out of overexcitement

To be so close to you

To be able to feel you 

He can easily rub his exfoliated cheeks against your plush skin

And he’s living the dream

“Hah~your really–hah~ really warm. It’s fine no worries.” 

Trey Clover

He’s a brother first and foremost

So he’s done this many a time before 

But the very action of feeling you grind upon the back of his head

And the heated warmth of your thighs on his ears

“Oh…whoa…this is…nice.”

He’s transcended into an experience of intimacy he’s never gotten

…from his other ventures

He may not let you down 

Claiming to have gotten carried away, lost in thought as he returns to playfully toss you on his bed

“Let’s do this properly (Y/n). You shouldn’t be teasing anyone but me. And even if you are…I can only stay calm for so long.”

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

I decided to write a little something that was a little...self indulgent~

Should you want more of my own personal desires in your writing, just request the House Special in your message~

Title: Mostro’s New Toy

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, m!Reader

Contains: dark themes(dubcon, kidnapping), contractual agreement, bondage, blindfolds, mouth covering/gag, free use kink

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

It had been a week since your end of the bargain was fulfilled. Though you had no magic for payment, Azul had stated he would figure something out and not to worry about it, so after meeting your end of the deal, you were starting to get fidgety when a week had passed and yet nothing had happened yet.

You were rushing to your next class, cursing yourself for being late because of Grim’s antics and for looking away from him for a moment. You started to cut across the courtyard when an arm grabbed you from the bushes. You were about to scream for help when a white gloved hand silenced you. More specifically, it was the duct tape under the hand that kept you quiet, allowing your attacker to hold you firmly in two arms.

“Eaaasy, Shrimpy. No need to get loud~”

The nickname and voice was more than enough to at least solve the question of who was doing this. You muffled out his name, any struggling soon subsiding knowing you weren’t in any actual danger.

Though you couldn’t see, Floyd was giving a dopey grin. “Just here collecting some debt. Azul’s order’s. Time to pay up~”

Retrieving a bottle from his pocket, he shattered it against the ground, pieces flying as smoke surrounded you two, teleporting you back to Octavinelle.

———

Floyd stood with you still in his arms, the two of you now present in front of the Mostro’s manager, Azul in his VIP room. Jade stood beside him, as though ready to act if necessary.

“Terribly sorry for the scare,” Azul started, speaking from behind interlocked fingers, “but you see I’ve figured out the payment I desire from you.”

You tried to speak, but the tape remained firmly in place, only muffling your speech. Azul merely carried on, as if you weren’t trying to object.

“Oh no need to worry about it! Truly, this is the best thing you could give! Jade? If you’d please.”

“Yes, sir.” Jade began to step over to Floyd, the two of them giving the other a look that seemed to be one that only twins could understand. He opened his jacket, retrieving a bundle of deep green rope that was concealed in an inner pocket. Floyd spun you around, holding onto your shoulders and looking down at you with a threatening gaze and speaking in a serious, menacing tone.

“I’d stay still if I were you, unless you want to be squeezed.” It was that look that screamed “try it”. If you moved, be it trying to run off or even just a muscle, you knew it wouldn’t end well. Jade then grabbed your arms, pressing your wrists together and wrapping the surprisingly soft rope around them. He tied them off in a way that didn’t hurt but kept your wrists firmly together, effectively now leaving you at the mercy of the tweels before you.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but I’ll tell you anyway, out of the kindness of my heart.” As Azul spoke, a strip of cloth covered your eyes. You were now blind, mute, and unable to fend for yourself in anyway. “I’ve decided your body will be perfect payment. I’ll have you situated in a way where patrons can come in, and use you the way they see fit. The blindfold is for confidentiality, of course, and the tape? Well that’s just for show. If they want to take it off they can~”

You’d be lying if you tried to object. The idea sent a heat straight to your groin, and you could feel a pressure at the zipper of your jeans as you hummed softly.

The brothers were already working on you, leading you into a new spot before pushing you down to your knees. The positioned you like a doll, spreading your legs open before unbuttoning your pants to reveal a partially hard, boxer covered phallus.

“Heeeeeyyy~ Little Shrimpy here is already enjoying himself~ You get off to the idea of this~?”

Hearing it out loud, especially from Floyd, only embarrassed you, and you shook your head to deny it.

“Such a thing is hard to deny when the evidence is right there, (y/n).” Jade’s voice sounded like velvet, smooth and calm. “It’s clear you’re quite aroused by this. There is no shame in admitting it.”

You shook your head with a small “mm-mm”, denying it, but deep down, you knew that lie wouldn’t last long, as Jade was right.

“Now boys,” Azul’s footsteps thudded against your ears as you heard him walk over. “I think we should find out if our new attraction is ready for the guests. What do you think?”

“Oh I get first dibs on Shrimpy?! I wanna test him out!” Floyd sounded all too excited by the idea, and you were already wondering what someone like him would do.

“Mmmm!” You let out an uncontrollable whine, but it went ignored.

“Oh please, Floyd. You’ll ruin our new toy before he even has a chance.” A small laugh laced Jade’s voice. “What if we tested him out together?”

“Wonderful idea!” Azul was more than willing to allow such a thing, his footsteps starting to soften as he stepped to the door. “I’ll be back in an hour. Try not to break our new plaything before I get back.”

“Yes, sir./Yeah, boss!”

The door opened and closed, and you were now alone with the brothers. Thought you couldn’t see them, you could feel their predatory gazes on you before their hands made first contact.

This…will be exciting…~ ❤️

[simplyreveries]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that orders are open so if it's not too much trouble I would like to request:

Type: Headcanons (Romantic) Reader: Female

Scenario: How do they (Silver, Jade and Deuce) handle jealousy when they see that the prefect (his crush) starts getting suitors or admirers from other students?

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure. Thanks :D (i shyly leaves the blog)

jealousy; silver, jade, and deuce

thanks for being patient!! love the request<3

silver

he hasn't had much experience with love, and you know, actually having feelings for someone. he doesn't know what to say or what to really do when it comes to someone like you, that has become so special and dear to him- he doesn't like this feeling of being jealousy one bit, feeling the twinge and burning in his chest when he sees others making advances towards you. he feels as if it's almost inevitable though, he puts you on such a pedestal that he isn't surprised you would have some suitors and people chasing after you.

silver is a bit awkward around you as he doesn't exactly know how to act, he seems to usually be his quiet drowsy self, he is someone who would show you how much you mean to him rather than say it. which is why you would usually find him being around you quite often, also because he is naturally protective of you. which only then lead to the frustrating feeling of jealousy in the first place when he sees how much others sought after you, especially one certain student. he never said anything about it.

he finds himself practicing and training a lot, a lot more than usual as a way to take his mind off the feeling but nevertheless it only makes him think about it more. it only took until lilia noticed his different behavior and it'd lead to him explaining what he’s feeling to his father. lilia would only laugh at how oh so obvious what he’s experiencing and try to give him some advice (is that advice good? who knows.) but he has silvers best interest at heart.

after that i feel like silver would prompt to trying to be more open to how he feels about you, he’ll try to show more through his actions- as usual but tenfold. he isn't someone to be outright mean, but he does… get a little sharper and he tends to move more in front of you to maintain distance away from one of the students actively pursuing you. it's funny in comparison to how sweet he can be around you his mood turns during the chance he sees that boy.

jade leech

oh boy…. jade and jealously is not something that go well together. you would never really suspect him of harboring any sort of jealousy towards some students trying to go after you, it's just usual jade behavior. you don't exactly know what he's thinking behind his courteous smile. he treats you and the others all the same, though it is a little unnerving. in fact, if you ever came up to him telling him about something sweet a student did for you, he’d smile and be like “how lovely, you already have so many admirers hm?” hes plotting

i just know whenever some guy is trying to get all chatty with you when he is around, they feel so unnerved by him its insane, he is giving the student the look and when you turn back to him it's a complete change with a smile. and jade may not be the most understanding of human-land courting and the way love really works on land, but he can still easily out do like anyone that comes your way. jade has mastered ways to get your attention solely back on him, with sweetly spoken words and compliments hehe.

has a habit of talking poorly or down any students that are interested in you. he has usually a huge amount of dirt of fellow students and he's ready to spill it out subtly in order to have you keep your distance from them.

lowkey i would feel bad for the poor student that kept going after you, even after noticing jade's presence around you. with jade practically infatuated with you, it will make him do anything. he's never been someone that doesn't get what he wants. needless to say, some of these admirers would most likely get themselves roped up into trouble with azul.

deuce spade

deuce is genuinely so upset when he hears you telling him and ace about some love letters from an admirer you've been receiving, like he gives you the worst attempt and a laugh and smile being supportive and happy for you. it's so painfully obvious has literally dying inside. he does have his moments though where he takes it personally when some student tries to flirt with you when he’s around you. he is pretty protective of his friends but especially you— it was funny to see him try to get in the face of that one big savanaclaw guy flirting with you ahhakjsdhs

he wants to desperately one up the others so bad, but he doesn't know how. he definitely has called his mom up at some point to be like “mom what do girls like in guys??” kind of thing. he tries so hard to look cool and amazing in your eyes, but those attempts end up with him making a fool of himself and him nervously laughing it off when he sees you giggling. his face does light up when he sees that, surely, he must be doing something right. despite ace and grim’s teasing he can't wipe the smile off his face when you're happy because of him.

sometimes he does feel a little inferior considering he doesn't feel the brightest or suave in comparison towards some of the attention you may receive. but every fumbling sentence of compliments and such he gives you; he means it so genuinely.

although at other times when he does feel upset because of some admirer he always remembers that he's one of the first people you became friends with since you’ve gotten to nrc, you consider him one of your closest friends in fact! he feels quite proud of that…. for now, he does plan on becoming more than just that.

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

Welcome home, you're back where you belong.

Hello! Welcome to the blog that's spun off from my very rampant and fun AU! In this AU, Yuu or whoever you've named were taken from TWST into a different world as a kid or baby, only to return to TWST during the entrance ceremony. Now they have to renavigate a world that was lost to them with magic. You are more than free to just make up a Yuu for this or design your own version, anything is welcomed!

From these ideas can come comedy, due to whatever shenanigans the siblings get up to, and angst, you've returned home to see how much has changed around you. Nothing is concrete which allows for endless possibilities with this concept!

I will normally use Yuu for the sibling or child if they go unnamed in the ask.

Mod talks

Current Siblings or children:

Yuu Crowley - Crowley's kid [The-Broken-Truth]

Marcus Trein - Trein's son [The-Broken-Truth] Married to Azul

Darius Crewel - Crewel's son [The-Broken-Truth] Dating Vil

Canis Woods-Vargas - Vargas' son (Wolf beastman) [🔆 Anon]

Opening Ceremony: Heartslabyul

Domino Spade - Deuce's twin brother [🔆 Anon]

Roxas Hearts - Riddle's estranged older brother [The-Broken-Truth]

Emily Rosehearts - Riddle's sister [👻 Anon]

Trinity Clover - Trey's younger sister [🔆 Anon]

Dekker Diamond - Cater's brother [🔆 Anon]

Jacob Howl - Jack's older brother [The-Broken-Truth]

Nox Bucchi - Ruggie's older brother [The-Broken-Truth]

Hari Kingscholar - Leona's twin sister [👻 Anon]

Sundew Ashengrotto - Azul's younger sister [🍋 Anon]

Cordelia Ashengrotto - Azul's step sister (Not related to Sundew) [🦑 Anon]

Aquarium Ashengrotto - Azul's sister (Not related to Sundew or Cordelia)

Peridot Leech - Jade and Floyd's younger brother [🍋 Anon]

Toryn Leech - Jade and Floyd's older brother (not related to Peridot)

Jayden Viper - Jamil's twin brother [The-Broken-Truth]

Didem Bint Asim - Kalim's younger sister [🐧 Anon]

Honeycrisp Felmier - Epel's twin sibling [🍋 Anon]

Riley Hunt - Rook's younger sister [👻 Anon]

Desmier Schoenheit - Vil's younger sibling [🎨 Anon]

Sage Crewel - Crewel's daughter (Not related to Darius) [🦑 Anon]

Kit Honest - Fellow's younger sister [🔆 Anon]

Aoda Shroud - Idia and Ortho's brother [The-Broken-Truth]

Belladonna Shroud - Idia and Ortho's sister (not related to Aoda) [🍋 Anon]

Aurum - Silver's sister [🐩 Anon]

Cyrus - Silver's brother (Not related to Aurum) [The-Broken-Truth]

Dusk Vanrouge - Lilia's son [🔆 Anon]

Dawn Vanrouge - Lilia's daughter (not related to Dusk) [The-Broken-Truth]

Thornton Draconia - Malleus' brother (Related to Aurum) [🐩 Anon]

Vivienne Vanrouge - Lilia's wife (not related to Dusk or Dawn Vanrouge) [🕊️ Anon]

Ceceri - Sam's little sister [🫧 Anon]

Mayet Artemiyevich Pinker - Che'nya's adopted older sister [🪻Anon]

Oisin LeBlanche - Neige's half-brother [🪻Anon]

Nanette LeBlanche - Neige's twin sister (Not related to Oisin) [👻 Anon]

[lesbiansforboromir]

Been scouring your blog to see if you have a specific take and i only managed to find the post where you said you are more for people coming up with their own meaning for Tolkiens work. anyhow, after reading you boromir post on how hope is his poison I am super curious as to what meaning you personally ascribe to it all. A lot of scholars will tout hope over despair as the ultimate meaning here (and the ultimate meaning of real life...ugh) and considering your very gut wrenching but meaningful takes on boromir i was just curious. Your thought process is fascinating from a scholarly viewpoint (which is not my strong suit) but also an artistic, emotional, philosophical, and human viewpoint. Whew sorry this ask is so long and disorganized! Have i mentioned I am not a scholar? :D

First off I love this ask it made me so happy to read I had to do so like five times before I felt qualified to answer it and then I spent like months writing this response which is over 4000 words now if you want to know. And, on that note, dw about scholarliness or whatever this ask has more desire to engage with lotr in nuanced ways than most tolkien scholars achie- (gets hit by a piano) anyway~!

It's also just extremely flattering that you're curious of my personal opinion at all so thank you so very much!

(this is the post anon is talking about for context)

As with all things, my answer has many layers. At the most basic and applicable level, and when taking only my Gondorian/Stewardship investment into account, I am engaging with the story for personal catharsis.

The fact that Gondor felt hopeless, that the enemy was merciless and invincible, that even those figures who were supposed to help had only judgement and platitudes to offer until it personally benefitted them, that Boromir and Denethor were isolated and generally condemned and that many only showed them pity after their deaths, feels extremely cathartically familiar to me and my story with chronic illness. I've spoken about this before here and there, but that is the kind of simplistic, energy giving, 'he's me fr fr' comparison that brings me uncomplicated comfort and inspiration.

But that is definitely not 'what lord of the rings is about' not even just to me, it's not even just what BOROMIR is about to me, it is an element of the story and worldbuilding that I have isolated and consumed but that still exists within a far larger whole. And that whole is also fascinating and compelling but in a far more esoteric and harder to define way.

BUT before we get into it, I do also feel the need to explain the limitations I percieve within the 'lotr is about hope over despair' narrative since you've brought it up but neither your ask nor the post you mentioned properly explains it and it'll enhance my point later. SO.

As far as my experience has lead me to believe, when people say 'lotr is about hope triumphing over despair' they mean it in a moralising fable kind of way. This is definitely the narrative the films latched onto, like a leech. Good characters have hope, lose it only to reclaim it again, teach others to have hope etc, and that is good of them. Bad characters are despairing and therefore have no hope, and they do evil deeds because of the despair and lack of hope. The Aragorn vs Denethor film paradigm.

But nothing within the books is anywhere near as cut and dry. As I said in the linked post, Boromir gains hope after having none (the hope that he can save Gondor by using the ring) and that is bad, it is something he has to 'pay for' according to the narrative. Meanwhile charmed and blessed Faramir admits that he never had any hope quite a few times, yet he is not punished for it. Theoden also has no hope and is explicitely going to war to die, but his death is not considered evil or selfish by the majority. Saruman is very hopeful, he's hopeful that Sauron can be reasoned with, that if they work together they can make a better world, but he suffers 100 indignities and then is killed by a cannibal! And most of all, Frodo also rarely (if ever) shows any signs of hope, he merely doggedly marches on regardless and in the end even takes the power of the ring for himself, essentially the ultimate evil act of desperation, but that saves the world!

For the record the idea that LotR is a fable-narrative of any kind seems exceedingly erroneous to me, like the idea that we are supposed to glean any universal Good Moral from the tale due to Tolkien's 'emminent wisdom' feels bizarre in and of itself. But at the very least this aspect is more complex, I think we can all agree.

But even more than that (and this is more perspective than narrative analysis I suppose but I think it bears saying), ‘despair is evil’ is a kind of horrible thing to teach! If the villainisation of people driven to desperate actions or anhedonia because of the deep despair they are suffering is what LotR is about then that’s.. awful! That sounds like a bad book and I don't think I'd want to read it. But lets put a pin in the concept of condemning people for despair for now, look out for the pin cus it’ll be coming back later. 

FOR NOW lets get back on topic, if I don't think LotR is 'about' hope triumphing over despair, what do I think it's about?

Well. I know what I'm about to do appears highly out of character for me so please remain calm and gird yourself before I say this but; Let us start with hearing what Tolkien had to say on the subject.

I do not think that even Power or Domination is the real centre of my story. It provides the theme of a War, about something dark and threatening enough to seem at that time of supreme importance, but that is mainly 'a setting' for characters to show themselves. The real theme for me is about something much more permanent and difficult: Death and Immortality: the mystery of the love of the world in the hearts of a race 'doomed' to leave and seemingly lose it; the anguish in the hearts of a race 'doomed' not to leave it, until its whole evil-aroused story is complete.

(this quote is actually from a letter to a fan who suggested lotr was an allegory for atomic power and he was pretty mean and dismissive about it in reply, it's kind of funny)

Now I've been a bit glib about this in the past, along the lines of 'tolkien's own opinion on what his book was about changed for every year of his life and by the time all his friends started dying around him it became about death, what a surprise' mainly because, again, we've had enough people caring about Tolkien's opinions to do us for the rest of civilisation. But I've always known this glib comment to be pretty baseless and unconsidered, since death was a major aspect of his life from his earliest childhood and it makes sense for that to have been a large part of his work. And since I am being sincere I will, just this once, take Tolkien's hand instead of ignoring him.

For him, the theme of his book was not power or domination (or the evils of war or hope over despair), it was about death. It was about people trying to deal with the realities of death existing for them, not existing for others, and what love (loving the world) meant in that context.

On it's surface I find this quote kind of clinical in it's first impression. There's a prescriptiveness to it that does not inspire me, which isn't surprising since this came from a letter full of veiled snootiness on his part.

But mostly, as a concept.. it seems pretty distant from what actually happens in the story itself, right? What aspect of death and immortality was the fellowship embodying? Boromir certainly died, but he was not looking for immortality and his death is far more concerned with guilt than the fact that he is dying. Theodred is dead already, but not even his father appears all that bothered about it and it's quickly set aside to focus more on the war. Denethor kills himself but his and Gandalf's last interaction says far more about despair and faith than death.

And then no other main character 'dies' at all, unless you count Gandalf. And the only main immortal character we have (other than Gandalf) is Legolas whom, whilst he does have quotes associated with his immortality, is far more invested in his and Gimli's relationship than anything else. It's no wonder people choose 'war is hell' or 'hope over despair' narratives over 'death' as the main theme for lotr from their perspective.

It also does not satisfyingly link to one of the most compelling aspects of the books as a whole; that of how they are presented. The thread connecting death and immortality to writing a story that is from in-universe historical accounts, editted and compiled by many subsequent in-universe hands, is there but hazy. The intense catholic-ness of the story is also intuitably related to death and immortality, but not explicitly.

In essence, death does not feel like the main theme of the books when you are reading them, at least I don't think most experience them that way.

However, in spite of all that, Tolkien's opinion on what his books are 'about' is still the closest I have seen anyone come to my own. Which I assume is hard enough for you all to hear, but imagine how I feel 😩

To me, LotR is most themactically consistent when viewed through the lense of Frodo and Gandalf's ever misquoted early interaction;

"Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.’ ‘It is not,’ said Frodo. (emphasis mine)

It is not comforting to know that the suffering in front of you was always meant to happen, no matter how comforting the idea of a divine plan might be to some. And that is what Gandalf is offering Frodo in this moment, the relief of a divine plan and its ‘high beauty for ever beyond [the Shadow’s] reach’. But this is never comforting to Frodo in the books, the comfort he finds on his martyr's journey is in Sam. Indeed, it is actually Sam who finds comfort in 'the high beauty', this reminder that beyond all his own suffering there is an imperishable and eternal light that can never be dimmed.

But not Frodo, how can he? His eventual fate is to grasp the power of a weapon so unholy it sickens his soul, to do that which he has been told is irreversible and unforgivable, so that he can never be at ease or even survive in the lands he has loved ever again. The 'High Beauty' is what is doing this to him, what made the rules, what meant for this to happen, what he is doing this in service of. And Gandalf, whose soul will be present to see the very end of this tale, cannot possibly understand what it is for your whole life to be encapsulated by just your own small painful part of what Gandalf would propose was a beautiful and universal tapestry.

And lack of agency against the divine plan is precisely the narrative thread that ties every character together. To some it is a comfort, Aragorn and Gandalf and Sam are all gladdened and encouraged by the knowledge that there is some higher power ordering their lives, some greater beauty they are all a part of beyond any earthly pain or suffering. They are not in control and to remember this is a relief. It inspires them to better fulfill their ordained duties and drive themselves through terrible trials.

To others it is no comfort at all, Boromir and Frodo have no faith in the prospect that the divine plan will include success or happy lives for them at the end of their tasks. But it is a hopelessness and uncertainly that they both accept. They simply believe their duties must be attempted anyway, hopeless or not, even if it makes no difference to the outcome in the end. Lack of control is just a reality they live with.

And to some it is a horror. Denethor and Eowyn want to fulfill their duties, but these duties are torture. They demand loved ones die, they demand relentless fear and sacrifice, they demand ceaseless and hopeless toil. And in the end both of them are given rebellious breaks from these duties by the narrative, ones that are horrifying in and of themselves (and portrayed as wrong to one degree or another) but that are still extremely cathartically presented as attempts to reclaim control of their lives away from a callous divine. Even if, ultimately, this also was out of their control.

Merry, Pippin, Legolas and Gimli appear to have never quite had to confront the realities of their powerlessness before. But through the story they become intimately aware of it in ways that force them to make choices they are not ready to make. For Merry and Pippin, this leads them to ultimately empathise with Eowyn and Denethor’s positions, wracked with guilt and equally horrified, attempting to find agency in death where (it appears) none can be found. For Legolas and Gimli, they confront the spectors of lack of agency/death for the first time in the narrative (sea-longing and the Paths of the Dead) and are irrevocably changed by them, eventually leading them both to attempt to circumvent their fates by illegally sailing to the uttermost west. Obviously fandom likes to believe they made it and live happily, but narratively it is also suggested that they died at sea in the attempt.

Now, at the risk of indulging in my ever-derided biographical criticism, I do think that all of these characterful arcs are represented in Tolkien’s own life. I feel comfortable saying that Tolkien was not a happy man by default. He was wracked with guilt from a very young age (wow a catholic with guilt, groundbreaking) but that guilt followed him and found new reasons to manifest until the very end of his life. And a lot of this guilt had to do with death, his father's death, his mother's death, his friend's deaths. And a lot of it had to do with fear of leaving unfinished or poorly finished business behind him at the time of his own death: guilt about how he had taught his students, about his scholarly work, his parenting skills, his so-oft-mentioned faith. 

And being a man of faith, he would have experienced all these things as a part of the divine plan, even as they were also his guilt to bear. So, clearly, Tolkien's experience encompassed all of these characters, right? The despair and the torment and combined love-of and frustration-with the divine. The failure. He knew them all. And within all of them, as well as within the narrative and world itself, there is a wrestling, there is an ever-shifting complexity and multitude of different opinions to how one experiences a life that hurts in a beautiful world that you love but that you eventually must leave, with the sensation that you have no control over any of it.

However, a complication to any declaration of ‘what LotR is about’ is that it is a self-admittedly unreliable narrative. If you cannot necessarily believe everything the narrative is telling you, then suddenly additional layers of complexity come into play in determining the meaning within an already complex text. In LotR you can actually track which characters are recounting which parts of the story to Frodo or Sam at the time of writing. But it is also just obscured enough to make it ambiguous and to enforce the idea that this is a version of this original story edited and compiled for many generations after it's writing.

So not only are these characters and events transient, uncertain and being (sometimes bluntly) misrepresented by the narrators, YOU are now complicit in that. You are yet another interpreter to alter this narrative through your perspective, just as all works and all lives are interpreted by those who view them, with no way to control that judgment. You are also a character now, making it even more difficult to make definitive judgments about a question like 'what LotR is about'.

The clearest example of how this narrative unreliability and reader interpretation comes into play within the text itself is when Frodo describes the fellowship's entrance into Lothlorien to Faramir. He is being blindfolded in order to be lead to Henneth Annun, and he recounts;

‘As you will,’ said Frodo. ‘Even the Elves do likewise at need, and blindfolded we crossed the borders of fair Lothlorien. Gimli the dwarf took it ill, but the hobbits endured it.’

But we, as readers of the previous book, know this is a gross mischaracterisation of Gimli. He did not take issue with being blindfolded, he took issue with being singled out as the only member of the fellowship who needed to be blindfolded.

‘As was agreed, I shall here blindfold the eyes of Gimli the Dwarf. The others may walk free for a while, until we come nearer to our dwellings, down in Egladil, in the Angle between the waters.’ This was not at all to the liking of Gimli. ‘The agreement was made without my consent,’ he said. ‘I will not walk blindfold, like a beggar or a prisoner. And I am no spy. My folk have never had dealings with any of the servants of the Enemy. Neither have we done harm to the Elves. I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions.’

In this one moment Frodo has taken what was a reaction of justified indignation against racial prejudice, and made it sound like a minor tantrum over a shared burden. He has also used it to further aggrandise his own people in Faramir's eyes. And it is up to YOU to notice this, to review it in your mind, to choose what it leads you to believe about all characters involved. The narrative certainly never helps you, or addresses it ever again. You have to wrestle with what it means in your mind.

I believe this is the reason I have observed that every person who reads LotR and loves it and keeps rereading it feels like they are excavating something. There is a narrative under the narrative for every new pair of eyes on the tale. And that narrative is you, it's who your experiences and sympathies lead you to listen too harder, it's the story of the experiences you understand. And in that excavation, you are also reclaiming a moment of control for yourself in conversation with the story and whatever you have chosen to excavate. One might say these are all aspects of every story, but LotR is unique in its investment and immersion into the concept.

Because, to me, when Tolkien says his story is about 'death and immortality', what I read is that it's about the ultimate lack of control we have (death) and trying to empathise and accept the unfairness of what will become our inherently false legacies (immortality). And then just the vast spectrum of experiences and emotions those things conjure. It's not just about those things, it is an attempted soothing of those fears and struggles, it is an offer of comfort or catharsis or applicability. It is also an acknowledgement of the love that drives you and that you will eventually grieve.

Frodo leaves the shire to save it because he loves it, but he knows the entire time he will never be able to fully return. He is frustrated, it hurts, but a piece of the Shire in Sam comes with him and whilst it cannot save him, Frodo is still comforted. 

Sam leaves the Shire because he loves Frodo, and he loves the high beauty as embodied by elves and magic and history. He also knows implicitly that this is a task he cannot refuse, but these things comfort him. He is glad to be guided and strengthened to even greater feats the more he trusts in a higher power, but he has a life and a family in the end. And if that is what the Higher Beauty decrees for him, where it has doomed Frodo to incurable soulful wounds, are we surprised at either of their choices? Can we blame anyone for their hope OR despair in the face of powerlessness? Oh! Look at that! It’s that pin I mentioned quite literally last century ago. TOLD you it’d be back.

And that brings us back to the question, what do I think LotR is about. 

We are all powerless in the face of death and in writing a book about death Tolkien’s work has an inherent universal applicability in this regard. Tolkien asks an unconscious question within lotr, how should we cope with being creatures that love the world but that are doomed to die and leave it? And then he leaves that question entirely unanswered. This is what sets lotr apart and truly creates a story in which people can read narratives therein that appear entirely separate from death or any other recognisable theme others might see, without losing the sense of universal appeal. He offers multiple perspectives, including that of the dominant religion’s prescriptive decrees of right and wrong, but there is no solution brought forth in the story that saves anyone from grief or death or regret in the end. Not even Aragorn or Arwen, who are in essence the most holy and faithful characters barring Gandalf within the story, end without heartbreak and despair!

‘‘I speak no comfort to you, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of the world. The uttermost choice is before you: to repent and go to the Havens and bear away into the West the memory of our days together that shall there be evergreen but never more than memory; or else to abide the Doom of Men.’’ ‘‘Nay, dear lord,’’ she said, ‘‘that choice is long over. There is now no ship that would bear me hence, and I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or I nill: the loss and the silence. But I say to you, King of the Numenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.’’ ‘‘So it seems,’’ he said.

There is no such comfort!! … Or is there?

To me, the appeal of Boromir is in the solution he offers; the comfort is in the wrestling! 

Aragorn and Arwen did absolutely everything they were supposed to do, unquestioningly, to the point that Aragorn goes to the Silent Street and just lies down to die because it’s ‘the right time’ and he mustn’t become ‘unmanned and witless’. And then he dies and he makes a beautiful holy corpse that cannot comfort Arwen or his children or his people for even a moment. 

But Boromir dies with a smile. Aragorn promises that Minas Tirith will not fall, and that does comfort him, because that was the wrestling he chose, the love he decided to hold, the meaning he decided to find and fight for beyond all his powerlessness to protect it. So that’s the answer I find and it might be different from yours, but it’s in LotR to be read because the story is about the wrestling as much as (if not more than) it is about the end. The road DOES go ever on and on, after all!

So ye das wat lotr was about I fink thanks 4 askin 👍I REALLY hope it makes sense. I also really hope Anon manages to see it after it took so goddamn long to respond 😂

[radfemsiren]

I think the descriptor “radical feminist” is the only one I think is correct for our movement. It’s so perfect at getting to the core of our intentions , and it’s very good at scaring away any conservatives that want to leech off of us.

“Gender critical” or reclaiming “terf” is, I’m sorry, objectively stupid and words I’ll never use to describe myself.

Look what happens when I type the 2 inferior terms into google images:

Ok now look with radical feminism:

Ok even now, look with just the shortened Radfem:

I’ll only use the elongated “radical feminist” descriptor because all other words have been tainted.

This one has not been, and is impossible to be, because confronting the truth of those words in your face shows how anti progressive you would have to be. It’s like the world’s “anti racist” vs “critical race theory.” One sounds much more scary than the other, even tho both are the same.

Language is very important, and I think writing in a way that any normie coming across your post can get into what you are saying is very important. It makes my blog kinda redundant and over simplified, I’ll admit lol. But that’s why I repeat my beliefs in simple terms over and over again.

[k1ngdom-of-thieves]

Hi, I was wondering if I could request a sort of spinoff to this post? https://www.tumblr.com/k1ngdom-of-thieves/696378827069423616/hi-hii-i-like-your-blog-so-may-i-please?source=share Same prompt, but with Azul, Cater, Kalim, Jade, and Jamil?

Sure! Thank you so much for being patient

Azul, Cater, Kalim, Jade and Jamil + resting their head on reader’s lap!

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had been so busy organizing files and signing paperwork for the cafe, that he didn’t realize how late it was getting. It was only when you walked in to his office at midnight wondering what he had been doing this whole time.

He apologized for having you stay up for him and told you to sit on one of the couches so you could still be near him. Noticing the dark circles that formed under his eyes, you tried to get him to sit with you so he could rest a little.

The entrepreneur tries to deny and continue with his work, but you wouldn’t listen to it. Eventually, he gave in, seeing how you were so adamantly telling him to relax.

At first, it just started off as him leaning on your shoulder, but it soon led to him resting his head on your lap. Usually he would never do something like this, but he looks so serene and happy with you.

“Only you could make me do this in my own office. If Jade or Floyd saw this, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Cater Diamond

Cater was coming back from an incredibly long day of classes; three tests, a science lab, and the music club after school. Needless to say, he’s exhausted.

He comes straight to you after all of it and practically throws himself into your arms. Congrats. You’ve been officially caught in the famous “Cater Capture.”

After a while of you two standing around, you asked him if he wanted to sit down. He agreed and asked if he could put his head in your lap.

He lets you play with his hair as he rambles about his day and just talk about random thoughts he had. If you keep playing with his hair, he might end up falling asleep.

“Hey, keep that up and I might just fall asleep! I’m just kidding; you know I love ya, right?

Kalim Al Asim

Kalim is, without a doubt, a very upbeat guy. He is also someone who is very found of physical touch.

Him coming to rest his head on your lap is a fairly common occurrence compared to doing it with the other guys. It usually happens when it’s just you and him hanging out somewhere.

Once, you two were stargazing when he put his head in your lap and started talking to you about the little things that happened that day. Things like funny things he saw, gifts he would like to buy you, and anything else that came up in his mind.

Sometimes if he’s really bored, he’ll take some of his accessories (like his earrings and headscarf) and try to put them on you without getting up. It usually doesn’t look that great but hey, you’re having fun!

“Okay, I think I got it now! Oh, oh no. It’s slipping off again. How about you try putting it on me this time!”

Jade Leech

Jade isn’t the type of guy to just put his head in your lap on a whim. He will, however, do it gladly if you ask him to.

He’ll take you hand and put it on his cheek while you talk to him. If you get flustered, he’ll start chuckling while he waits for you to finish what you were saying.

He will keep a conversation with you like nothing had changed. He’s talking about daily events like his head isn’t delicately placed on your lap.

This guy won’t even get up if someone were to walk into the room. He will get up if he sees that you’re uncomfortable, though.

“Hmm? No, I haven’t seen Azul. I- oh? I noticed you looked flustered, I can get up now if you’d like. Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil putting his head in your lap is something that very rarely happens. Your gonna have to ask him when there’s no one around and at night. He’ll get flustered and say no otherwise.

There’s just something special with the calm look in his eyes when it’s just the two of you alone. The slight smile he has when you two crack jokes.

If you two are fairly close, he’ll let you mess with his hair a little. Just a little, though. His hair takes forever to de-tangle.

He’ll offer to let you rest on his lap as well, as a way to repay you. Whether you take him up on that offer is up to you.

“I never thought I’d be able to relax like this. Thank you for giving me this chance.”

[vide0-nasties]

Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher’s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

[whumpshaped]

a concept just rammed into my head and i will now share it with my fellow Ambac Rotators on this blog: beck and helle species(?) switch

beck as a (relatively) new vampire

helle as a vampire hunter

no idea where this is gonna go. i just had the sudden image of human!helle pinning down a vampire 🛐

good day anon. i finally have the tentative spoons to engage w the fantasy (that ive been meaning to write for FOREVER and ur ask served as a good reminder of my goals and aspirations thank u)

masterlist

vampire hunter beck

tw vampire whumpee, dehumanisation, pet whump

Beck had been overly cautious every time he went hunting. He had to be, as a stupid little runt without anyone to protect him.

He had crawled out of his grave and into the clutches of a woman he barely recognised, only to immediately be discarded once she realised he couldn't use magic. He had begged her to leave him alive at least, promising to stay out of her way and go 'hunt' on someone else's territory; not his proudest moment, but then again, he had little to be proud of lately.

He hunted as best as he could, picking off lone passerby and muffling their cries as he drank his fill, too frantic and hungry to really care about causing pain. Then he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, terrified of drawing attention to himself. And the cycle would repeat.

Until one day, he slipped up and chose the wrong target.

Beck had never seen a hunter before, especially not so up close and personal — and now that they were straddling his waist and putting a stake to his heart, he decided he didn't fucking like them. He had his hands up on either side of his head without having to be told, completely still in an attempt to appease the hunter who had caught him.

"You're the runt," they stated, not even a hint of doubt in their voice, but Beck nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir," he breathed, very aware of the sharp point digging into his chest whenever he dared inhale.

The title wasn't a conscious choice, really. He'd had to talk his way out of quite a few confrontations before, and if there was one thing he'd learned throughout all of it, it was that manners never hurt.

The hunter looked amused, leaning down a little and inadvertently placing more of their weight on the stake. Beck tensed under them, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of his inevitable demise. "Sir? Have I gotten myself a polite little leech?"

"I can be very polite so long as I'm alive, sir," he said hastily, and they chuckled.

"Alive... as if. Don't flatter yourself. I've seen corpses that looked better than you."

Beck pressed himself even more against the ground. "You're right, sir," he squeaked. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, listen." They clicked their tongue at him, like one would to get a pet's attention, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again. "I've got a deal for you."

"A... a deal?"

Was this common? He had nothing to compare this to. Were all hunters like this?

"Only because you're so well-behaved." They pressed down on the stake a little, as a gentle reminder for Beck to keep behaving, and he was suddenly very eager to nod along. "You see, runts are pretty rare. And regular vampires... they can't really be kept. It's a one and done deal, I come in, I stake them, I get my money."

That was simple enough. Terrifying, but simple. But also– "K-kept?"

"Kept," they repeated, grin widening. "Like a dog."

Beck swallowed. He had a feeling of where this was going, and he did not like the implications. "I... I see."

"And while I'm pretty successful, as far as hunters go... This is a dangerous job. I could use a buffer."

"No," he said timidly. "Please, I can't do anything, I can't– I can barely hunt, I'm starving half the time–"

"I could do with bait, too," they interrupted, shushing Beck when they saw him open his mouth to protest. "And of course, because I deal fairly, I'd let you have some blood in exchange. Can't have a pet without feeding it."

That... That made the offer sound much better, all of a sudden. He hadn't had anything to drink in at least a week, getting by on whatever dead animal he could find in the parks at night. Drinking from roadkill. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of human blood, even though the hunter hadn't yet specified what they'd be feeding him.

"Mmm, what is it? Interested?" they taunted, and Beck couldn't resist nodding a little. He wanted someone to protect him so badly; apparently even if they were a hunter.

"What... what do I need to do, sir?" he asked as respectfully as he possibly could, already wincing when the hunter pulled out a collar from their coat pocket and threw it into his hand.

"First things first, put that on. We'll discuss the rest on the way home."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[ellssbellss]

Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

Happy 1 year to Lavender Roses and this entire, wonderful blog. Without you, this story wouldn't have reached as many people as it has. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.

-> summary: "But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me."

-> word count: 8.3k

tw! the scene on the cliff gets a little intense, mentions of blood, demeaning language against women, slight PTSD, weaponry (knives), verbal assault, physical assault, sexual misconduct. kyoya is dumb and so are you.

legend:

(M/n) - mother's name

(n/l) - native language

(s/c) - skin color

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck

The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club! pt. 2

Kyoya lounges as he writes, a foreign feeling of contentment wrapped around his frame.

Soft bursts of images sift through his mind, you over his lap, your arm on his side while his gravitates towards your hip. How close your mouth was to his and how badly he wanted to taste it. How he had basically lunged at the chance, not that you were complaining.

That had caught him off guard. 

As he was writing, the megane realized he had never been a fan of romance. Above multiple reasons, he never saw the point. His father and mother had married for business instead of love, creating an environment where affection was not celebrated or practiced. He would see couples in the hallway and roll his eyes, thinking that they were wasting their time. 

When he voiced these opinions one evening to his sister Fuyumi, she gasped. 

“Kyoya! You really think love is a waste of time?”

“It’s a chemical reaction, Fuyumi, that’s all.” He had explained in a monotone voice, barely giving her any attention as he was typing away at his computer. “Your brain releases a certain neurotransmitter when you find someone attractive and compatible, and it tricks you into thinking you’re in love. Companies leech off this, creating Valentine’s Day, cards, encouraging weddings and all this nonsense.” 

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I am not one to be fooled, and I will certainly not allow myself to be tricked by my own mind.” 

Kyoya ended his bored rant with an amused chuckle, feeling sorry for the suckers out there who lost precious time and money on something that could never really last, at least not forever. 

But Fuyumi just stood there, leaning against the doorway with a small smile on her face as she looked at her oblivious brother, too young to take the world as seriously as he did. 

“You can tell me that when you meet a wonderful man or woman, and we will see how you feel about how you want to spend your time.”

Kyoya scoffed. “Please, how I feel is irrelevant. My work is what deserves my time, end of story.”

Then his phone rang, and he paused his typing to see a contact picture flashing on the screen. Leaving his chair, he had walked to the door of his bedroom as he answered the call. 

“Hello, give me one second, please.” Then he turned to her, a little brother shoving his sister out of his room.

“Goodnight, Fuyumi.” The door closed behind him with a clack, and Fuyumi heard her brother pick up his conversation as he disappeared into his room. “Hello, (Y/n), thank you for calling me back…”

Kyoya smirked as he came back to the sounds of the beach, waves and laughing people filling his ears as his thoughts ran away with him. 

He had met a wonderful girl. And he could barely fathom how he was lucky enough to understand the feeling his sister was talking about. The pull he had to you was intense, and it was something he had never experienced with anyone before. 

The sun had reflected off of your (e/c) irises so perfectly in that moment, and the short distance had enticed him heavily, that the pull tugged and tugged. 

He hadn’t even confessed yet, and you had somehow convinced him to give in to his own temptations. 

“Kyoya! What should I do?!”

The ravenet broke out of his thoughts as his best friend ran towards him, arms holding a bucket of snakes in their grasp. 

Kyoya simply arched his brow.

“I wanted to scare Haruhi and (Y/n) with these rat snakes, but the twins said that anyone would find them creepy, so it wasn’t a true weakness! And now I don’t know what to do!” Tamaki whined, his voice rising as he shuffled on his feet, anxious about the snakes in his grasp. 

The club director’s spectacled gaze fell onto the snakes, twisting inside the plastic bucket without a care in the world. Taking a closer look, he let out a deep sigh.

“Those aren’t rat snakes, Tamaki. They are poisonous Habu snakes.” Kyoya turns back to his book. “Rat snakes aren’t even native to Okinawa.”

“What?!” Suddenly, the prince of the host club is running around in circles, whining while juggling the bucket in his hands. “What do I do with them?! C’mon, Kyo, you gotta help me out!”

“Tamaki, Kyoya!”

Both boys freeze as they watch Haruhi race towards them, her feet kicking up sand as she meets them at the chair. 

She’s breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fright and worry as she heaves. “Help, please, you’ve gotta help me.”

Forgetting about the bucket completely, Tamaki rushed over to Haruhi, pulling her close to him to try to ease some of her worries. “What is it, Haruhi? Are you hurt? What do you need?”

“It’s (Y/n). I thought we could handle it, but things got out of control. She told me to come get you.”

“What?” Kyoya sits up on his chair, quelling the anxiety in his chest. He admired Haruhi for being a girl who is very put together, so for her to fight the fear in her voice so adamantly is concerning. “Is she okay?”

“What’s wrong with (Y/n)?” Tamaki says calmly and firmly, trying to get some answers out of his panicking honor student. 

“These boys! They were- they-, god just follow me!” Flustered she turns around, sprinting away from the two hosts.

Kyoya and Tamaki rush in pursuit, agony filling into their chests. 

As the cliff comes into view, Kyoya catches Haruhi’s concerned gaze rise to the top of it, his own eyes following. Three shadowy figures struggle in the sunset, and his heart plummets as one of them is pushed to the high edge. 

In the distance, a piece of fabric lies stagnant in the sand, and Kyoya curses as he passes by it. A Hawiian shirt, ripped and torn as it lies helplessly in the sand. 

“No, no wait. Stop!” You struggle as Ren pushes you back, your heels leaving the ground as he holds you over the cliff's edge.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what?” The alcohol on his breath is rancid as he sneers, Aoi grinning behind him. “I ain’t got time for difficult chicks like you. Might as well leave you out to sea.” He jostled you, and relished in the way you flinched. 

“Don’t! Don’t, please, don’t. It’s too much. Please, don’t let me go.”

“Oh, now you’re begging for me to hold you? Where was this a few seconds ago, sweetheart?”

“(Y/n)!” Hearing Tamaki’s voice was sweeter than any cake that Honey could’ve given you, making you want to cry out in relief as you looked behind the two thugs. 

Ren and Aoi freeze as you see Haruhi, Kyoya and Tamaki round the corner of the bottom of the cliff, concern and determination shining in their visages.

Meeting Kyoya’s gaze, you wriggle around some more, trying your best to shove Ren off of you without any friction below you. “Tamaki! Kyoya! They’re going to-”

You're quieted with a hand covering your mouth, Ren shouting in your face. “Be quiet! We aren’t doing anything!”

Kyoya’s jaw clenched at your plea, and he pumps his legs into a faster run, trying to get to you as you are, dear god, dangled off a cliff. “Let go of her!”

Aoi turns to Ren, and you see panic in his eyes as your three heroes charge up the rocks. “Ren, we gotta go. Like now, they don’t look happy.”

“Shut up, I know that.” Ren snarls before he forces a grin and turns to the boys, holding you up by one hand now.

“You want me to let go? Well, whatever you say.”

“No!” Kyoya called, but it was too late. 

Ren’s fingers go limp, any tension that was holding you up above the waters below disappearing as the fabric of your bathing suit slips from his grasp. 

The air whipped around you as you watch the cliff get smaller and smaller, plummeting towards your greatest fear. You feel a scream bubble up to the opening of your throat, but no noise dares to release, shock taking over your entire body.

Cold, sharp pains spider through your back as you hit the water, knocking all the wind out of your lungs in one single splash. The feeling of watery nothingness surrounds your skin as it pricks you. At the waterpark, the lazy river had tried to pull you into its flow, desperately and immaturely trying to take its next victim. 

But the ocean was experienced, eerily calm as it let you sink. And sink. Wrapping its deep silence around your form, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sinking. 

And as you begin to cry at the thought, water fills your lungs. 

“(Y/n)!” Haruhi tried to call, but you were already out of sight, plunging into the water below. Panic clouded Kyoya’s mind as he ran, all of his thoughts zeroed in on the conversation that he had just had with you minutes before. 

I just don’t like the idea of being deprived of oxygen. Then I’d just sink, and be lost.

And now you were lost to him, falling into something you so desperately had tried to avoid. 

In his pursuit, a hooded man, much shorter than Kyoya, tried to step in his way. The kid grabbed at him, and any anger Kyoya had in his body went into a singular push, sending the man tumbling to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Reaching the edge, Kyoya didn’t think twice. Discarding his precious glasses to the side, Kyoya shoved the problem of the disgusting man in the red shirt out of the way, and took the dive. 

Long and lanky, he arched into the dive, his nearsightedness making it so your figure was just a blur from this distance, but he targeted it. His palm reached out and willed you to be closer, willed you to be okay. 

“(Y/n)!” He called as your fuzzy figure disappeared into the ocean with a harsh slap, the sound echoing in his ears. Kyoya’s own fall ended as he dipped into the water soon after, cursing his terrible vision as he looked around. 

A relieved exhale presented itself in bubbles when he finally saw you, drifting limply as the current pulled you along. Kicking hard, Kyoya stretched his muscles and his lungs as he held his breath, fighting against the density of the water. As he got closer, his stomach turned when he saw a small vein of red seeping from a cut in your leg, which only made him swim faster towards you. 

Finally, his hand grasped your floating one, and in one quick movement, pulled you against his chest. With your weight against him, his logical mind rebooted, and he tucked your head under his chin as he swam up to the surface. 

“(N/n)-chan!”

“Kyoya-senpai!”

The voices seemed so distant, your skin clammy and gooseing against the beach air. Something was moving you, you could feel a familiar pressure against the small of your back and behind your knees, but it didn’t distract from the wave.

Your blood waved, splashing and swaying against the walls of your veins. It felt like your muscles had melted into liquid, and you were still in the pool, being bobbed and pulled into the black of the ocean. 

But then there was a shade of orange behind your lids, and blinking made it brighter. Something dragged over them still, tugging your eyes open as the sky moved above you. 

Tufts of black hair and a very sharp jawline were the next visions to come into your view, and the waving stopped, replaced by the firm steps of Kyoya carrying you to safety.

“Kyo…” Your voice was hoarse, raw from unconsciously coughing up water as soon as you had reached the surface. 

He didn’t respond, his gray eyes covered by his wet hair, but his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. 

Instead, he looked forward towards what you would assume to be your friends, but you were too focused on the deep orange the sunset casted across the clouds. 

“Where’d they go?”

“We took their ID cards and asked them to leave, not before showing them what’s for.” A voice said. Hikaru..yeah, Hikaru.

“The girls went back to the hotel and Mori called a doctor. He should be here any minute.” Kaoru follows like he always does, and the comfort of their routine brought you back to reality, especially when they mentioned the doctor.

“I’m fine, guys. I really don’t want to see a doctor.” You say, sighing as you leave Kyoya’s grasp. When your feet hit the solid ground of packed sand, you wobbled a bit, and Tamaki came into your line of sight. 

His arms helped steady you, but he didn’t let go as you straightened out. “What were you thinking?”

Still a little dazed, your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Tamaki, stop.” Haruhi says as she stands next to you, giving you one of her jackets to wrap around yourself. 

“No, no.” Tamaki’s voice is low, collected. It shook you. “What were either of you thinking? You know, you aren’t martial arts masters like Honey and Mori-senpai.”

“Duh, don’t you think I know that?” You chuckle a bit, trying to lighten the mood, but you’re getting more and more frustrated by your best friend’s accusatory tone.

“You think this is funny?” Your prince is in disbelief as he raises his hands from your shoulders to the base of your neck. “Why did you confront them? What made you think you could stand a chance? You against two boys?”

“It doesn’t matter if they were boys and I’m a girl. They were harassing our guests, they needed to be stopped!” The emotional toll that today’s events have taken wore down your patience, and now you’re raising your tone, lacing it with betrayal and disbelief.

“We were there, Tamaki, we had to do something!” Haruhi takes a stand, trying to talk some sense into your best friend. 

“That’s no excuse, you idiots! Don’t forget that you are girls!”

“Kyoya.” Turning, you look back at your director for some support. “Tell him we did the right thing.”

But there is no answer. Kyoya just stands there with his arms folded, his mouth formed into a straight, formidable line, securing all of his thoughts behind a single wall. Water drips off the ends of his hair onto his toned torso as his jaw clenches, not breaking eye contact with you. 

“Kyoya?”

“You ran into a situation unprepared, unyielding, and irresponsibly. You put yourself in danger, self-sacrificing your safety for the needs of three girls you barely know.”

If Tamaki’s serious tone was shaking, Kyoya’s was chilling. It was cold, unrelenting as it jabbed into your heart with every syllable. “Are you mad at me right now? After you jumped off a cliff to save me?”

“I wouldn’t have had too, if you had been as smart as I thought you were.”

Defensiveness burns inside you. “I did what had to be done! Yes, it wasn’t safe, but it was me or those girls, and I couldn’t let them get hurt.”

“But you could put yourself at risk?”

“It’s different!”

“How?” With haunting grace, Kyoya outstretched his hand in order for Hikaru to place his lenses into his palms. Using the fabric from his shorts, he cleans them off the best he can, and slips them onto his nose. “The worry you felt for those girls when they were grabbed, and the worry that not only I, but everyone here felt for you when they saw you dangled at the edge of a cliff, you tell me how those are different.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you run your hands over your face, not being able to put your feelings into words. “It just is. And I’m sorry you had to come save me, but I can’t understand why you’re so mad at me right now.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong!”

At that, Kyoya’s piercing gaze sharpens, and you see his adam's apple bob, a signal that he is calling upon his immeasurable self-control. “You don’t think so? Fine.”

He steps forward, walking towards you and then brushing your shoulder as he passes your form. 

“Kyoya, where-?”

“I don’t think we can speak again until you can admit that you were wrong.”

And with that, his form becomes a spot in the distance as he leaves you in the dusk. 

Soon, you left the others to wander around Kyoya’s guest house aimlessly. You frowned at every framed picture of his family, even ones where he was young and round, not sharpened by what his world had to offer. 

You climbed to the second floor, only to come to a line of doors. 

“Bedrooms…” you confirmed under your breath, running your hands along the wall as you passed them. “But…which one..?”

On the door handle on the second room from the end of the hall, a yellow rose was tied around it, welcoming and ironic all at once. 

A sad smile came to your face as you plucked it off the knob, then turned it, still holding it in your grasp as you entered the room. 

The room was generic, but you noticed a bouquet of yellow roses sat on the bed, tied with a lavender ribbon. There was a note in the gorgeous arrangement, and you plucked it out from it’s stand. 

Dear (Y/n),

My room is the one at the end of the hall, next door to this one. Should you need anything, you may let me know, and it will be done. 

Have a restful night. 

Sincerely, 

Kyoya Ootori

Swallowing, you set the note down and fiddle with the petals of the roses, Haruhi’s jacket softly brushing against your wet form. That note must’ve been written before everything had gone down, and your heart turned a little at the thought of him coming in here and placing these here with care, knowing how touched you would be when you saw it. 

Putting them on the nightstand, you drag yourself to your shower. While the hot water runs down your body, you rest your head against the tiles, trying to think your way through this. 

Tamaki was frustrated, Kyoya was pissed, and Haruhi was almost hurt. Everything today had been overshadowed by a single action by two terrible people, and you hated it. The drama that had been going on lately, and the stress of the dinner with your family and Arai, had left you tired, emotionally and mentally. To make it worse, the person you wanted to talk to the most about everything that was going on in your head currently was not talking to you. 

Lifting your head, you let the water splash onto your face before getting out and dressing into something that was finally more your speed. The week had been full of dressing you to the nines for the perception of others, but as you prepared to have dinner with your friends (or who you hoped were still your friends), you could wear something that expressed who you were, not who someone wanted you to be. 

As you fixed your face and hair, a knock sounded at your door, methodic as it rang against the wood. 

You almost wanted to ignore it, but the possibility of Kyoya being on the other side was too intriguing, and you rushed to the door, calming down before coolly opening it.

“So, now you decide to-oh. Hey.” Hiding your slight disappointment, you look up to see Mori standing in your doorway. “What’s up, Mori-senpai?”

“Dinner’s ready.” His mouth is curved a little at one side, and you can tell he’s trying to be a little more joyful for you, considering everything that happened. 

He then raises his hand from his side, and presents an Ootori Hospital First Aid Kit. “Kyoya wanted me to give this to you. For your leg.”

Eyebrows raising, you take the kit. Throughout the drama, you forgot about the cut Ren had made on your calf. Seeing it now, the salt water helped stop the bleeding, and it was scabbed over, now just serving as a reminder of what you had gotten yourself into. 

“Thank you, Mori.” Your gratitude came out as a sigh as you set the med kit down, and Mori watched as your form slouched ever so slightly.

“(Y/n).” 

“Hm?” Looking up at him, he swallowed at the tiredness in your eyes. Doing what he thought was right, you felt the stoic place a comforting hand on your head. 

“I can teach you. So can Mistukuni.”

“Teach me? Teach me what?”

“How to protect yourself.”

Two times you had been subjected to the whims of a confused, angered man. And both times, no matter how you had tried to fight against them, you were still untrained, still ignorant of the ways to use your power to its fullest potential. This time, when you looked back at your friend, your eyes glimmered. 

“Really?”

A firm nod came from the tall man, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that expelled out of you. Arms opening, you reach out and hug Mori around his waist, nuzzling into his long frame.

“Thank you, Mori.”

The hand on your head tightened for a moment before he stepped back. “I’m gonna go get Haruhi, and we’ll walk down together, yeah?”

Nodding, you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The minute Haruhi had stepped out of her room, your eyes lit up.

A pretty pink nightgown draped over her shoulders, ruffles shooting out the side of her collarbone. She looked beautiful and elegant, and it was refreshing to see her out of the clothes that reminded you of the fight on the cliff. 

And if you thought she was beautiful, the rest of the hosts clearly didn’t disagree.

As the three of you stepped out into the dining hall, the twins immediately shot up, mouths agape as Haruhi glided into the room. 

Even Honey smiled as he stood on the chair of his seat, milk chocolate eyes glittering with the sight of her.

“Woah!” The boy-lolita said, and you stepped aside as he and the twins surrounded the honor student, complimenting her as she smiled gratefully. 

Turning towards the long dining table, you see two figures. Tamaki fights the blush on his face as he stares at Haruhi, but still chooses to sulk at his place at the table. His purple eyes meet yours, and then they slide down, and your stomach coils as he turns himself off to you.

Daring to glance at the person sitting across from your prince, Kyoya leans into his chair, his black journal perfectly perched on his lap as he writes, and you swallow. 

Knowing that Tamaki was a ticking time-bomb, you take your chances, walking up to the Shadow King. 

“Is this seat taken?”

No response. Looking around, you see name cards propped against the plates, your name clearly written in a very familiar cursive. Must’ve been the preparations he had made before.

“Looks like it is now.” You say awkwardly, shuffling the chair out and sitting down next to the ravenet. “I, uh, I got your note. And the roses. They were really beautiful.”

His pen pauses, and his dark eyes lift over his pages to stare into space. Then Kyoya’s eyes shift down, and his writing continues.

Folding your fingers over, you wait silently as the other hosts fawn over Haruhi, literally twirling your thumbs. Tamaki is sitting across from you, avoiding your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you twist your mouth as you try to catch his gaze, and being the pushover he is, he holds it after a moment.

You tilt your head, sitting aggressively back in your chair. You’re mad at me too, now?

Violet eyes roll. He’s not mad at you, just hurt. Talk to him, mon ami.

You think I haven’t tried?

Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Flipping his blonde hair away from his eyes, your best friend gives you an incredulous look. The man jumped off of a cliff for you. 

I didn’t ask him to do that.

You wouldn’t have done the same for us?

Your lips part a little, but you look away for a second before meeting his eyes again. A blonde eyebrow raises and Tamaki rests his chin in his hand.

I would’ve jumped off that cliff too if Kyoya hadn’t beaten me to it. We’ve all been through a lot today. Violet eyes are drawn back to the host in pink, and you sigh as they become distant. 

Reaching across the table, you tap it lightly, hearing the writing beside you pause for a moment as Tamaki looks back at you. 

You’re not going to tell her she looks nice? I figured you would’ve been all over that dress.

We aren’t speaking right now. 

Your expression morphs into one of disbelief and slight annoyance. What? Why?

She acted childish, running up there with absolutely no regard for herself.

So did I, and you’re talking to me.

Deadpanning, he smacks his lips together. This isn’t talking! We probably look like crazy people right now.

A small smile takes up the corner of your lips, and he simpers back. Plus, I can’t stay mad at you.

Your eyebrows raise, an equivocal gaze clouding your eyes as you glance over to Haruhi and the twins. I doubt you can stay mad at her.

He straightens his back as a blush rises to his cheeks as Haruhi’s skirt swishes with her movements as the rest of the hosts make their way to the dinner table. She sits down next to him, a challenging look on her face as she spies on him from the corner of her eye.

Tamaki narrows his gaze and turns back to face you, a sigh rolling through his lungs. We’ll see.

The twins pull out a chair and sit, Kaoru to your right and Hikaru to his. After everyone gets situated, plates are filled with delicious looking crab legs and side dishes, creating an array of a colorful feast. 

Cracking shells filled the air as no one bothered to speak, the tension of the room encasing your group into a box of crushing glass. Haruhi began to make a pile of empty shells on her plate, sending the prince that sat next to her in a state of disbelief. 

Digging into your own dinner, you look over to your left to see Kyoya still writing, his portion of the catch of the day remaining untouched. 

“You’re not eating?” Your voice raises barely above a whisper, afraid that if you broke the silence, the tenuous glass of tension would come crashing down on you. 

Not even a glance from the megane. You send a pleading glance to your friend across from you, but Tamaki shrugs. Third times the charm?

Putting your cheek in your teeth, you try to get closer, pulling a strategy that has worked before. “What’re you writing about? Can I see?”

You sulk as Kyoya turns away from you, bending the spine of his book so that the pages are fully covered from your view.

Kaoru, having seen the whole thing, gave a wide eyed look to his brother. “Well this is uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, kind of awkward.” Says his twin.

Defeated, you sit back, smiling weakly as Kaoru puts a few extra crab legs from his plate onto yours. 

Pleasured grumbles interrupt your self-pity as you and the twins look across the table to see Haruhi demolishing crab legs. Everytime she opened her mouth, she made an ‘ah’ sound, a blush coming onto her cheeks as she relished in the seafood taste. 

“Oh my god,” bits of crab fall onto the corner of her mouth as she groans. “These crabs…taste in-crab-ible.” A cute, muffled chuckle escapes out of her full mouth as her stack of crab shells continues to grow. “Get it?”

Tamaki is caught in the splash zone, shells and crab crumbs being tossed into his space as he sits next to her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Geez, Haruhi, give it a rest.”

“Hm?” Her sarcastic tone goes up in pitch as she fills her stomach with more crustaceans. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

A tick appears inside the veins of Tamaki’s forehead as he grumbles. “You trying to be cute?”

Haruhi just shoots him a victorious side eye, taking another huge bite of her food. 

Something broke inside the prince and he sighed harshly, slamming his napkin on the table as he rose. “Okay, fine. I get it. It seems you refuse to admit that you were wrong.”

He pushes out his chair, putting his hands in his pockets. “See if I care then, I’m going to bed. Kyoya?”

A voice that must’ve been foreign to you by now sounds a hum as Kyoya stops his writing immediately, giving all of his attention to Tamaki. 

“Will you show me to my room, please?”

“With pleasure.” Kyoya then stands, an aura of nonchalance cascading into your space as he slides by you. “Excuse me, everyone.”

An air of ice surrounds you as Kyoya doesn’t give you a sparing glance, his cold shoulder sending a shiver down your spine while he and Tamaki walk out of the dining room, the large doors closing behind them. 

Haruhi’s confidence dissipates as she watches her prince leave the room. Swallowing her food, she sadly cracks a new crab leg, the overconfident display now being replaced by a sincere realization. 

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should learn to protect myself.”

Looking towards Mori, you share her sentiment. “Yeah, it might be a good idea.” You say, relaxing into your seat. 

Hikaru and Kaoru reflect each other as they put their heads in their hands, giving the both of you empathetic glances. “So that’s it, they got to you, huh?”

Nodding, you look down. “Kyoya can be cold, sure, but he’s never just ignored my existence. Maybe I could take a class or something, I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn martial arts…” Haruhi thinks out loud, now only picking at the food she had been devouring moments ago. 

“But that’s not the real issue here.” The twins say, folding their arms onto the table.

“To be honest, we were all a little worried about how recklessly you two acted.”

Looking up from your plate, you and Haruhi both shoot Hikaru a confused glance. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, bending around Kaoru to mee Hikaru’s gaze. “We didn’t cause you guys any trouble or anything.”

“Are you serious right now?” Kaoru asks, giving you a disbelieving look.

“Yeah, I mean you guys didn’t have to sprint up a cliff to help (Y/n) and fix my mistakes,” Haruhi reasons. “So you guys were fine, right?”

“That’s not true, Haru-chan.” Honey kneels on to the seat of his chair, his palms resting on the table as leans forward. “I think you guys should apologize, kay?”

“We were all worried, of course, but Kyoya-senpai and the Boss almost had a heart attack.” Kaoru says, speaking with his hands as he waves his fork around.

“We think you need to apologize to them the most. Both of you.” Hikaru states, the hand under his chin moving to support his cheek. 

“But you were worried about us?” The twins looked to their side to see your eyes switching between the both of them. “But why?”

That earns you a deadpanned look from the brothers before Hikaru drops his head on the back of his chair, and Kaoru rests his head on your shoulder with a whine. “You’re both hopeless.”

A small chuckle rises out of you as you rest your head on top of the sneaky twin’s, your mind flashing through the previous events. 

Stubbornly, you knew that you had done the right thing, and that you would’ve made the same choice if you were given a second chance. 

But then you imagined the boy on your shoulder being grabbed by his shirt, hung over the edge of a cliff reaching higher than you thought it could reach, and your gut twisted. Then the image flashed to where Honey was held and Mori was running after him, or Hikaru, then Tamaki.

Then Kyoya. And you immediately understood their worry.

Swallowing wetly, you took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry you guys.”

The twins raise their brow in surprise, and when Haruhi voices her apology too, it melts into a content simper. 

“Awe, come here you little runt.” Somehow pulling you and Haruhi out of your chairs and into their arms, the hosts embrace you in a tight group hug. 

“Don’t get all soft on us now, (Y/n).” The twins say as Honey rubs his cheek against a smiling Haruhi. You laugh and push them off, just in time to see the natural type’s face fall as her color disappears.

Hikaru notices immediately, holding her side. “Is something wrong?”

Haruhi’s stomach makes a concerning gurgle. “I don’t feel so good.”

And that was how Haruhi ended up in your bathroom, heaving her guts out in your toilet. 

You’re sat on your bed as you hear the toilet flush, looking out one of the massive windows in the room as the moonlight lets itself in. 

The light from your bathroom seeps into the space as Haruhi walks out, weakly falling onto your bed with a light thud. There’s a beat of silence as she flips over, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

“We kind of fucked up, huh?” You joke, still looking out at the ocean as it calmly waved against the shoreline. 

“Yeah. We did.”

“Who do you think we should apologize to first?” You ask, meeting her eye line as she continues to focus on the popcorn ceiling. 

She just shrugs, at a loss for the next step. “Should we go together? Or one at a time?” 

“Probably one at a time. I’ll go to one, and you go to the other, and then we can just switch.” Sheepishly, you sigh. “Besides, I think that I have a little more to apologize for.”

“It could’ve been either of us, (Y/n).” Her low voice echoes off the walls. “If you had run in front of me, it would’ve been me who would’ve gotten thrown over.” 

Another small silence blankets over you before you nodded your head sharply. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Haruhi props herself up on her elbows as she watches you push off the bed, an air of confidence surrounding you. “Now?”

“Now.” You stop in the mirror, checking yourself over to make sure you are presentable. “We will get the hard ones out of the way. You apologize to Tamaki, and I’ll apologize to Kyoya.”

“You sure you’re not rushing into things?”

“Nope! Just gotta get it over with.” Head held high, you walk out the door with Haruhi on your heels, picking up the first aid kit so you could return it to its owner.

You and Haruhi walk from your door to the end of the hallway, a lavender rose on one and a red rose on the other. Stopping in front of your respective hosts doors, you each raise a fist, preparing to knock. 

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.” She sounds confident, affirming. 

Then each of you turn around and switch places, losing gusto as you walk into Tamaki’s room. 

Knocking softly as Haruhi enter’s Kyoya’s room, you step into the prince’s chambers, searching for the signature strands of blonde hair. 

He jumps from his corner, the phone to his ear tumbling out of his grasp as you spook him with your entrance. Blowing out a breath, Tamaki runs a hand through his hair, tuning back into his conversation. 

“Yes, Grandmother.” Your heart sinks as his tone loses the flamboyant flair you had come to enjoy. “I understand. Goodnight.”

Hanging up the phone, he turns back to you as he hangs up the phone. With a hand on his hip, your regular scheduled Tamaki is up and running, an exaggerated frown on his face. “You can’t just barge into a man’s room like that, mon ami! Think of your manners!”

Looking down, your fingers tighten on the med kit in your hands. You chuckle at his words, but it quickly quiets when you remember what you came in here to do.

Since you chickened out of one apology, the least you could do was try to get through this one. 

Raising your eyes to meet his, blonde eyebrows rise as he senses utter sincerity in your gaze

“Tamaki, I’m so sorry for making you worry.” Earnest honesty blends into your words as you pour your apologies out to him. “Everything happened so fast, and I wasn’t thinking straight when I saw those men try to take advantage of those girls. I just got so mad, ya know? No one deserves to be treated like that.”

Tamaki parts his mouth, but sees that you have more to say, and closes it.

“Haruhi and I tried to run, but they caught the back of my shirt – well, it was Kyoya’s shirt because he let me borrow it earlier today – and I was forced into a fight or flight mode.”

“And you chose to fight.” The prince’s hands pocketed themselves into his jeans. 

Nodding, your actions became a little frenzied. “I wasn’t going to be helpless again, not like that time in the dressing rooms during the physical exam. I can take care of myself, and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know I am strong and independent and I wasn’t going to let them do whatever they wanted to me.”

An annoyed sigh shot out of you as the moments on that cliff replayed in your mind. “But one of the guy’s had a knife!” You gesture to your leg. “And it all got out of hand so quickly that it seemed like I blinked and all of a sudden I was being held over an endless sea. I was stupid, and reckless, but I just wanted to help and save them, save myself that I completely–”

Your face collided with a shirt, soft and lavender-scented as your best friend embraced you. Your rapid heartbeat echoed against the close proximity of his chest before it slowed, and you breathed as you wrapped your arms around him. It was a tight embrace as one of your palms grabbed onto the cloth of his button down like a lifeline while the other pressed the med kit into his back.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as you nuzzle against him. 

Pulling back, Tamaki looks down at you with a gentleness only he could provide. He grabs your hand and pulls you to an empty chair. “Here. Sit down.”

Brow furrowing, you sit as the large, red loveseat molds to your tired body, and you fight against your instinct to melt into the cushions. 

Your confusion takes precedence, though, as Tamaki sits on the floor below you, crossing his legs before holding out his hand. “The med kit?”

Once you hand it to him, he pops it open and scans over the supplies. He stretches his hands and cracks some knuckles before shaking them around, as if they had been asleep for hours and he was trying to wake them up. 

“I might not be good at all the medical stuff like Kyoya, but I can clean up a scratch or two.”

A light giggle rolls out of you as an intense look of concentration sculpts into his features. Setting everything he thinks he needs to the side, he opens his palm again. “May I?”

Rolling your eyes, your heart blooms at your friend's gentle touch as he begins to try and fix what you broke, even if that was what you had come here to do in the first place. 

Eventually, Tamaki breaks the silence that had lulled over the two of you as he applies a cleaner to your cut. “That was my grandmother on the phone.” 

Wincing at the medicine bubbling out of the cut, you nod. “I heard. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”

“There’s not much to say.” In comes another rare instance like the one at the Tiki Bar. An aura of calm maturity takes the prince’s form as he sits in front of you, completely concentrated at the task at hand. “She was angry, like usual.”

“Did she yell at you again?”

His nod twists your heart on its chambers, but his eyes flick up at you to stop you from giving him any pity before going back to the task at hand. “She is an angry woman. She was widowed when she was young and since then has had a pessimistic perspective on life.” A sad sigh escapes him, but he still manages to keep a serene smile on his face. “She is not a woman I will ever completely understand, but I think, for the rest of her life, I will always strive too. While I may never be on her good side, I want to always put my best foot forward and keep my mind open, so that I might see the world through her eyes. Understand what she is dealing with even if I don’t agree with her actions.” His chest shakes with a low laugh. “It seems I’m stuck doing that for all the women in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m telling you I understand.” Tamaki rifles through the bandaids and picks one that must’ve come from some sort of Valentine’s Day collection: shiny, red hearts with a white background. 

He places it gently over the scratch Ren had left you with, running his thumb across it in a loving gesture. “You were put in a terrible situation, and you did the only thing you, (Y/n), are programmed to do. Survive.”

His fingers swim through his hair again, and his violet eyes are swimming with genuine kindness with a hint of concern that you don’t think will ever fade away. “You're always by yourself. Your parents leave you alone in your home enough times, and you learn to depend on only yourself, because no one else has ever stepped up to the plate. You never call any of us for help, even when we are so close, until it’s too late. Until you realize that you pushed yourself too far.”

Leaning up, Tamaki puts his hands on the arms of the chair as he becomes eye-level with you. “I get it now.” A soft smile curls onto his handsome features. “I’m sorry I yelled at you on the beach. You grew up without relying on anyone else.”

Your eyes had gone wide and began to shine as Tamaki stood to his full height and held a hand out to you. “But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me.

Emotion wells up in your throat, making it hard to swallow as you quickly take his palm, jumping into his arms again with vigor. You feel him chuckle against you as he lifts you up in the air for a moment before setting you on the ground, your new band aid twinkling in the moonlight. 

“So, you forgive me?” You say, wiping the small, joyful tears away before he could see. 

“If you can forgive me for comparing you to my grandmother.” 

“I was just going to ignore that. It seemed like you were on a roll there.” 

You both laugh as Tamaki hands you back the med kit. He taps the top of it with his finger. “I think you need to return this.”

A different kind of feeling stuffed your airflow now as you looked out of Tamaki’s open door to the one across the hall, a lavender rose lacing the doorknob. 

“Yeah, yeah I do.” 

Feeling your feet begin to drag across Tamaki’s carpet, you force yourself to feel lighter, invigorated by your friend’s words. “Thank you, Tamaki.” You smile up at him as you pass through his doorway. 

At your grin, Tamaki squeals in his place. “Awe, you’re so cute, mon ami! No need to thank me, no need at all!”

You simper as you flick him on the nose and close the door behind you, taking the treacherous steps towards the Shadow King’s door.

The feeling of your thumping heart began to ring through your frame, but you willed it to calm down. Looking around, you tried to spot Haruhi in her door frame, waiting for you to be done talking with Tamaki so that she could tag in, but it was so late that she might’ve just fallen asleep. You would understand, especially if her conversation with Kyoya was as emotionally taxing as yours was with Tamaki. 

Every nerve stood on end as you raised your hand to knock, but hesitated. Would he be mad if you made so much noise in the middle of the night? Plus, if he had fallen asleep, he wouldn’t just wake up with a simple knock. The man slept like the dead who had turned to stone. 

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, careful of the thorns guarding the purple rose. Did he even want to see you?

The image of his softened gaze as it dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes, shrouded in sunset as Kyoya’s hand gently lifted to your waist filled your mind, and it motivated you to turn the knob. 

You had to salvage this. All he had asked was for you to admit that you had done something wrong, and now you were prepared to do that. It had taken some convincing, but you were ready to set aside your pride. Besides, to endure another moment of his gaze without the touch of softness he saved just for you would be hell compared to a little bruise on your ego. Maybe he will forgive you for waking him up.

You cringe, knowing you’re being way too optimistic.

The door doesn’t creak, the well-oiled hinges of an Ootori household silently as you sneak into Kyoya’s bedroom, barely opening the door a smidge before you see a shadowy blob on Kyoya’s bed.

Squinting your eyes, you struggle to peer into the darkness, and you open the door another centimeter, letting the light of the hallway bring some illumination to the shadows. 

The med kit drops onto the carpet, not a sound adding to the empty soundtrack of this moment. 

Shadows merge and billow before defining into bodies. Haruhi’s pink dress comes into view as the small amount of light grasps onto her form, revealing her as she lays wide-eyed on the bed. Her back sinks into Kyoya’s comforter as she looks up, blinking mildly at the form hovering over her. 

Long tingles of darkness form into a body you admire, the man you adored caging your best friend under him like a predator. His muscles tense as his arms work to hold his body just above her, his naked torso defined in the contrast of the night. 

Haruhi says something you couldn’t possibly hear over the blood pumping through your ears, and you see a smirk curl onto his face as if she said something clever, and Kyoya drags a thumb over his lip. 

The image is burned into your skull as you race back to your bedroom, only a wall separating you and the betrayal next door. 

Haruhi and Kyoya?

Haruhi and Kyoya?

Tears now welled in your eyes as you rushed to the comfort of the bed that wasn’t your bed, in a room that wasn’t your room. 

Fuck! Your mind screams as you shove your face into your pillow, rocking back and forth as the picture of them together keeps flashing behind your eyelids, a persistent roll of film filling in all the areas you didn’t see in the dark. How their bodies must be closer now, closer than you and Kyoya ever were. 

A hiccup escaped as the pressure in your chest tightened. Kyoya’s aversion to physical touch made it so he constantly kept an arms distance from you. Yet here he was, chest to chest with your best friend who you had grown to love like a sister you never had. 

Your fingers dug into the pillow as before you threw it across the room. Yanking the covers over your head, you begged and begged anybody that was listening to turn back time. 

Turn it back to the moment on the beach chair, under the umbrella in the glow of the sunset. Rewind to Kyoya serving you your favorite food with his sleeves rolled up, or the two of you linking fingers on a piano bench, the moonlight cascading down his soft smile effortlessly. 

A hand claps over your mouth to keep any sob from passing through and sounding through the wall, and you realize that even though the ocean was outside your window, you still couldn’t find your breath.

It seems that Kyoya didn’t deserve to win those pictures after all, because the image that still pulses into your vision causes you to sink into darkness. You find a new worst fear as Kyoya’s name echoes into your mind as you become lost. 

Next Time on Lavender Roses!

“I never noticed. Haruhi is perfectly suited to be accepted into an elite all-girl’s school.. And that’s exactly why I can’t let her transfer!”

“But (Y/n)’s been here for years, why does she want to transfer too?!”

A Challenge From Lobelia Girls Academy!

hey there, just wanted to apologize for ruining your day and leaving you in suspense :)

thank you for being so patient, there is always more to come :) comment if you can! i'd love to hear your thoughts.