#I put my own tags before prev-tags I'm sorry-

[leighsartworks216]

Understanding

dragon!Sylus x blind!oracle!Reader

Series Masterlist - Chapter One - Prev Chapter - Next Chapter

I DIDN'T FORGET TO POST THIS ON THURSDAY!!! I found updating on Thursdays actually a horrible idea considering it's one of my busiest days of the week, so I'm shifting to post on Saturdays now. Sorry for anyone who was looking forward to an update then and didn't see one <333

Warnings: none that I know of, but lmk if I missed something

Word Count: 1,910

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AO3

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You’re scared to leave your room the next day. Not for fear of being hurt… or worse, surprisingly enough. You spent all night (day? It’s hard to keep track of time here) organizing your thoughts and morals. You couldn’t rest until you figured them out, and you were awake still long after, figuring out what to say to him.

With a deep breath and a quick run-through of the script you put together, you follow the rocky walls through the lair. You feel like a child again, trying to sneak out of the temple. As though any moment you’ll be caught and forced to recite hymns to atone for your mischief.

Your search for the fiend is made easy when you hear the quiet clink of metal hitting each other. It leads you to the treasure room, far more echoey than any other room you’ve been to thus far and with air that doesn’t feel as condensed.

Something is tossed into a pile of coins. You can hear them sliding down the side, scraping over one another before coming to rest on the floor. And again.

“Are you… organizing?”

The coins still and you’re left in the silence. You can just barely hear his breathing, the swish of air around the tail you’ve seen in your visions.

“You…” You inhale, trying to find the words you rehearsed to yourself over and over again, lost somewhere in the aether, never to return. “I don’t think you’re… as much of a monster as you make yourself out to be.”

He chuckles humorlessly. You startle at the sound. “No? How come, pet? Is it not in my nature to desecrate the world and its innocents? Is it not destiny that makes me maim?” Something is lifted from one pile and tossed into another with a loud clatter.

You clear your throat. Destiny is a complicated topic, one that has no tried and true answer. Thinking such is blasphemous in itself. You banish the thought quickly before you call down Astra’s ire upon you.

“You said they were trying to kill you. If that is the truth, then you are the innocent here. Everyone will do anything in their power to save their own life, even if that means taking another.” You exhale unevenly. “As far as I’m concerned, their lives were forfeit as soon as they encroached on your…” You gesture vaguely around. “Home.”

“Does your god share your opinion?”

A weak laugh jostles out of you. “Probably not,” you admit. You swallow nervously. “I’m sure He’ll let me know if He doesn’t. But He doesn’t speak for me, and I can only speak so much of His will into existence. Whether He likes it or not, I have beliefs outside of Him, and I believe that you’re not as unredeemable and unforgivable as the stories say… If you were, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest as you wait for any sort of response from him. Maybe you said something wrong, somewhere, somehow, and made things worse. Maybe calling him innocent was an insult, a miscommunication between dragons and mortals, blindly overstepped. But you wait. You listen.

Slowly, you hear him moving again. “Come here.”

For a moment, you think he’s calling you over so he can kill you, strip your bones and discard you with the rest. You force that assumption down, despite how tempting it sounds to get the hell out of there. You wouldn’t get very far anyway.

Carefully, you step further into the room. You have to abandon the reassurance of the doorway in favor of wide open space. Sliding your feet across the floor, you’re careful not to step on anything, with your arms outstretched to feel for anything solid. Some ways from the door, something hard and strong wraps around your waist and drags you to the side. You jump, yelping uncertaintly as you’re nudged to sit down on something plush and soft. It’s unlike anything else you’ve felt around the tunnels.

“I am organizing,” he confirms, as though your outpouring of sympathy never happened. “You can sit here while I do.”

You hesitantly, curiously, feel the plush cushion. It’s almost velvety beneath your fingers, if not a bit rough. “How long has this been here?”

It’s rhetorical, but you hear him chuckle. “Long before you got here, oracle.”

You try not to show your surprise at the new nickname for you. Anything aside from “pet” is greatly welcomed. It does more to ease your nerves than anything else he could have chosen to say.

“Speaking of which, any new insights on your prophecy?”

Gods, you’d nearly forgotten all about it. “Not especially,” you say, “though you being a fiend does answer some of my questions.”

More clinking metal. Rather than being thrown, it sounds like it was carefully placed on the floor. “How so?”

“Your appearance, primarily. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

“‘Seen’? Did you forget you’re blind, or have you lost your wits in the short time you’ve been here?”

You laugh. Ah, right, he’s never met a Chosen before. You find a back to the furniture you sit on. It’s wooden and intricate. You adjust to lean up against it, legs stretched out along the rest of the cushion. It feels heavenly after days of sleeping on hard rock. “No, I’m as sane as I can be. It’s how I receive the prophecies from Astra; he plays the events in my mind and I can see them actually played out before me as I sleep.”

He hmphs. Something heavy shifts across the floor. “That’s a bit cruel.”

“How do you mean?”

“How long have you been blind?”

“Um, my whole life. I was born this way.”

“And yet he dangles the gift of sight before you every time you need to relay the future. You’d think a god like him could find a better way to do so.”

You pick at the cloth on your hands. “I… I have no comment.”

“Do you miss it when you wake up? Being able to see?”

Do you? You’ve become so intimately accustomed to it, you don’t think about it anymore. Being allowed to see prophecies in such a unique way has become so detached from your blindness; you can’t seem to reconcile them together anymore. The waking world and the world of dreams are two separate entities, incomparable.

“I guess I just don’t think about it once I’ve woken up,” you choose to say.

“Do you wish you could see?”

“No.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt. You feel his eyes on you as you smile. “For all the hardships and struggles, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Do you wish you weren’t a dragon?”

He scoffs, amused, but a sour note lingers. He doesn’t answer. You suspect he may just wish such a thing.

You undo the messy knot in the cloth around your left hand and begin to unwrap it. Your hands don’t hurt anymore, so perhaps they’ve healed? Either way, these things probably need to be changed out. You clear your throat. “I don’t know much about dragons. Nothing that I’d consider trustworthy information, anyway.”

“What have you heard?”

“The usual: fiends are terrifying beasts that feed on human flesh and steal innocent girls for their own pleasure. They have huge lairs full of gold and priceless treasures.” You set the first wrap aside and begin working on the second. “The lair and hoard are true, I would assume, since…” You gesture around.

“Yes, those are true,” he laughs. You hear his footsteps getting closer. “I can’t say anything for my appearance, but we don’t eat human flesh. I’m sure some of us have stolen girls in the past. As for myself, you’re the first mortal I’ve brought back here.”

“What do you eat?” You can’t recall hearing him eat anything since you arrived. Even from afar, you could usually pinpoint the distinct chewing sounds, as unpleasant as they are. And for how many skeletons you stumbled upon yesterday…

He doesn’t respond right away. His steps stop in front of you, halting your wrapping as you wait for what will happen next. You nearly startle when his voice returns beside your ear, hot breath fanning against your skin and drawing goosebumps along your arms against your will. “Human souls,” he says. You think he’s smirking. He sounds far too amused. “The bones you found. They’re from hunters who come to kill me. Thieves who try to claim my treasures. I ate their souls.”

You swallow. “Will you eat mine?”

He chuckles as he backs away, speaking to you face to face. “Would you like me to?”

“No,” you answer sharply.

“Then I won’t.”

“I assume this is a very rare special treatment, not extended to others.”

“As curious as I am to know what an oracle’s soul tastes like,” he teases with a mournful sigh. “Let me see your hands.”

You finish unwrapping your right hand. The cloth drops into a pile with the other, and you hold both your hands in front of you, palms up. Something hard and sharp holds the back of your hands, startling you. They leave for a second, before holding them again.

“Are those… your hands?”

He hums an affirmative. He tilts your hands from side to side, examining the old injuries you sustained. “They’ve healed well,” he says, sounding impressed. “I guess I was wrong to underestimate you.”

You huff a laugh. “I told you! The people in the city are rough; even I picked up some things here and there for my own sake. I probably wouldn’t have been able to run away if I hadn’t been just a little resourceful.”

“You’re getting cocky now, oracle. Mind your head doesn’t get too big and fall from your shoulders.” He lets go of your hands. Something flicks your forehead. You grab it before he can fully pull away.

It’s sharp and tough, with ridges and plating coming together to form gauntlet-like fingers and a rough palm. He doesn’t take his hand back. You can feel his eyes watching you, staring you down like a bird of prey, but your curiosity fends off the embarrassment.

When you find his wrist, you think maybe you’ll find soft skin. Instead, it’s just more hard plating, as high up as you dare to feel. It’s cold, texture akin to a beetle’s shell. You hold the back of his hand in your palm, as he’d just done to you, and trace the other overtop. A small heart shape catches your attention. You follow its contour a few times, before lightly feeling up the lengths of his fingers. The tips are pointed, enough that if you dared press any harder, they’d surely break through your skin and draw blood.

“Why did you run away?” he asks, voice reduced to a low rumble.

You release his hand. “Astra gave me a prophecy that they didn’t like,” you explain matter-of-factly. Though, maybe he can see the sorrow that crosses your face. “It’s not the first time, but this one predicted the coming of doomsday. It topped the pile of bad prophecies, tipped the scale too far, and they decided I was the one wishing doom on their families. I heard them talking wherever I went, plotting to kill me at dawn’s first light, as a sacrifice to appease Astra. So, I ran.”

“Just the messenger, right?”

“Precisely.”

---

Tag List:

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[invinciblerodent]

Are people playing the same game I did? What do they mean "Rook has done nothing to earn Solas' loyalty"? Given what Solas did to Varric, and just the general threat Solas' plans represent, Rook is well within their rights to give zero shits about his loyalty. Why are they concerned about Rook earning Solas' loyalty to begin with? Solas wronged THEM not the other way around??? What did Rook even do? Stop the ritual? The ritual which was going to cause apocalyptic destruction? You can't blame Rook for not having all the facts. The one who does have all the facts (Solas) has been keeping them to himself. It's not Rook's fault if they only know what they've been told. What are they supposed to think given that demons are literally popping up all over the place? Solas hasn't exactly given Rook any reason to trust him. Did they forget Solas has a whole track record of being untrustworthy??? And even that considered Rook still makes plenty of effort to understand Solas? That entire quest with Solas' memories? Various companions weighing in based on their perspectives? I don't understand where they're getting this impression that Rook is some unreasonably judgemental dickhead. I'm sorry for ranting I'm just so tired of going into the VG tags and seeing people put the most unwarranted Rook hate in the main tags. How do people have the most bad faith takes about their own character? Are they role-playing them like that??

Dude, I totally get what you mean. These are all the same questions I'm asking myself every time I happen across a take like that. (Adding the link to my prev post about the take in question.)

If you'll allow me some room for pondering, my guess is just that... they are kind of roleplaying them like you say, but they're not truly roleplaying. Or better said, they're not playing the role of Rook.

I think that these people posting takes like that, they're playing as themselves, not taking up the perspective of a character within the story but looking into the story from the outside, AND they're doing so filtered through the lens of having previously also played Inquisition (and their Inquisitor) the same way.

What I think may be happening here is that the Inquisitor's (and by extension, these players') experience with Solas is, by design, drastically different from that of Rook, and many of those who have loved the character they knew Solas as for a long time (a decade at this point) find Rook's and Veilguard's perspective of him and his role in the story irreconcilable with what they know.

These players see Solas as a companion, a friend, a lover, a character who is fundamentally a protagonist in the story (regardless of the fact that Trespasser explicitly states that him achieving his goals would cause massive devastation and the end of Thedas as we know it, plus that much of the face that he showed in Inquisition, he himself admitted was either shown under false pretenses or was an outright lie), and with that being their version of the truth about him as far as they are concerned, they find conceptualizing him as an antagonist very difficult, or even impossible.

Which means that the neutral/wary attitude that Rook (a character who was written as someone who never before interacted with Solas, spent the better part of the year pursuing him with the intention of stopping him, and now has goals that are explicitly contradictory to his ultimate goal) puts them in a place where the player's point of view character is one they think of as an antagonist.

That's why they think that Rook is the one who should win Solas' trust and loyalty, that's why they're frustrated that Rook has no option to immediately believe and trust everything Solas says and prioritize helping him, and in some fringe cases, that's why they think there should have been an option to let the Veil be brought down and let Solas succeed.

Simply, I think that these people, they aren't engaging with the story as written, but they are constantly fighting against their own protagonist, which creates this sort of... I guess moral dissonance(? can I call it that?) between them, and the point of view that the game asks them to embody.

I don't know how much sense this makes (I've been microwaving this in my head for a long time, I think it may be a bit burnt at this point), but I feel like it lines up with the posts that have broken into my isolation chamber. Granted I don't purposefully engage with these types of posts and I'm pretty sure I've blocked a large chunk of the people posting this stuff, but...

I mean, to me it makes sense, lol.

It's kind of that theme of fact and truth and history changing depending on who tells it (which permeates the entire setting) seeping into the real world, and into the fandom.

That has kind of an almost poetic irony to it.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter X: The Destruction of Your Innocence

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming VERY soon

songs for this chapter: an ode by mat kerekes, the price of growing up by watsky

summary: an evening of fun with the party, and for once nothing feels too heavy... until it does.

chapter tags: none! Just a good wholesome dose of friendship on all counts… the calm before the storm, if you will.  | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

a/n: I would consider this the end of Act I.... meaning.... well. I'm sure you can figure that out. Happy new year everyone! 🎉

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r | comment/message me to be added!

--

“Good morning!” Robin answers the door to her apartment with far too much pep for eight am. Your ears are still ringing from last night, and you wince at her volume. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you’re so not a morning person. Come in!” She whispers the last part, and you chuckle lightly as you cross the threshold, only for your smile to fall from your lips. Eddie is splayed on the couch, a black coffee in his hand as Steve talks at him about how important reading the instructions is. 

“Hi, Bee!” Steve greets you from the kitchen, and Eddie offers a brief wave.

“Mornin’. Sorry, I didn't know it was a party, I would’ve dressed nicer.” You’re suddenly embarrassed by your choice of outfit: A pair of bike shorts and a massive t-shirt draped over your body like a nightgown.

“Oh, shush, you look great. Especially for what we’re doing today.” Robin, clad in overalls, walks by you and into the living room, where differently sized planks of wood are spread out on the carpet, a pile of screws in a bag next to them, and the instructions booklet flattened to the first page. 

“What exactly are we doing?” Eddie asks, sitting up. “I was just told I was needed, I was never told why.” He looks at you, as if asking for help. You shrug.

“We’re putting this thing together,” Robin toes the mess of boards. “Need all hands on deck, this ain’t no IKEA furniture.” 

“Good thing, IKEA’s shit would fall apart in a week.” You kneel in front of the pieces, examining them closely. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, looks like everything we need came with it.”

“Okay, great! Steve, put on some jams. Bee, come with me for a second.” Robin offers her hand, and you stand up to follow her into her bedroom.

“What’s up?”

“Are you, like, good?”

“What?” The question confuses you.

“Like, with Eddie here. I know we didn’t tell you, it wasn’t really planned, Steve just texted him for extra help and I didn’t wanna argue because I don’t wanna be the one to have to help him move the thing when we inevitably have to.”

“Rob, it’s cool. I’m over the initial shock of Eddie being here every time I see you guys. I  know it’s been awhile, but this was a normal occurrence once.”

“Yeah, I know, it just hasn’t been for a really long time. Wanna make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

You kiss her cheek, smiling warmly. “It’s okay, Bob. Thank you.”

With that, she leads you back into the room, where Steve and Eddie stop speaking abruptly, as if they’d been conspiring something you aren’t allowed to know.

“Okay!” Steve claps his hands together, breaking the tension. “Let’s do it, we’re losing daylight.”

–

“Okay, this goes here–” “No, Rob, that goes there, this goes here–” “Bee, hand me the screwdriver–” “Would you move, Ed, you’re in my light–” The four of you talk over each other for hours, screwing and hammering pieces into place, groaning when you realize something is upside down. 

“Wait, wait, shut up!” Robin eventually exclaims before standing up to admire the fruit of your labor. “We fuckin’ did it!” In front of you sits a complete, sturdy entertainment center, every piece where it belongs. You feel a burst of pride as you stand up next to your friends, resting your hands on your hips to take in the sight before you. 

“Look at us! And in a miraculous turn of events, Bee and Eddie didn’t maim each other to death!” Steve adds, elbowing Eddie in the ribs and earning himself a shove. “You know, this might be cause for a gathering.” Eddie announces, earning groans from you, Steve, and Robin. To Eddie, a gathering didn’t mean the usual party with beer and weed, loud music and the likelihood of drama. For that, you were grateful. However, it did mean a very loud, passionate game of Dungeons & Dragons with four teenage boys. The cleanup is comparable, and you don’t count on Eddie helping out. 

“Please, Rob? I promise, we’ll be out by ten. There’s just barely any room at my place, and you guys always have the good snacks.” You cock an eyebrow at Eddie, but he’s too busy pouting at Robin to notice. 

“Ugh, fine! Out by ten, no exceptions.” He opens his mouth to thank her, but Robin quickly adds, “And only if Bee will come.” She crosses her arms over her chest triumphantly, like she’s found the secret way out of the deal.  

“What? Why is this suddenly on me?” You look from her to Eddie, whose eyes are wide with his friend’s betrayal. 

“Because I know you hated those things.” She grins. You remember, consistently left out of the games in high school because you were friends with a couple cheerleaders. Instead, being forced to watch from the corner, mumbling under your breath every time one of them did something stupid, and throwing popcorn into Eddie’s hair. “Y’know what, I might actually join you. If they let me play.” You glare up at Eddie, like you’ve passed the grenade. To make you show up, he has to let you play. If he doesn’t let you play, the gathering is off. The snake eats its own tail. 

But he shrugs. “Okay, yeah.” 

You and Robin share a look of exaggerated surprise, gasping in unison like he’d dropped to one knee. “What happened to the golden rule? No Darksiders!”

Eddie throws his head back with laughter, chest heaving as he tries to compose himself. “Guys, I’ve matured a little in the past few years, would you give me some credit?”

It shifts something in your chest, hearing him say it. You forget sometimes that Steve and Robin had also been together without Eddie for a while. When he’d finally graduated, Eddie skipped town without a word to any of his friends. You’d even gotten an influx of calls and texts, friends of Eddie’s you’d only met in passing asking you if he was out in New York with you, having no idea you already hadn’t spoken in two years. 

“Okay,” You resign, remembering your brother’s plea from last night for you to be nicer to him. “Then a gathering we shall have.”

—

The apartment quickly becomes a playground, a mass of what you can’t exactly call children flooding through the front door, immediately taking up any available surface. The boys: Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin, are loud and excited, spreading out their game pieces on the kitchen table with intention. The girls, El and Max, make their way to the pantry for snacks and soda, opening every cabinet until they find what they’re looking for. You brace the tornado, still as possible until everyone is settled. 

“So,” Max sits on the empty cushion beside you, crossing her legs to rest a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Long time, no see!” You’d always been closest to Max, even closer than you’d gotten to Dustin just by being friends with Steve and, at the time, Eddie. Max, though, seemed drawn to you specifically. Your senior year, when she was in seventh grade, she’d started wearing her hair like yours, asking you where you bought your clothes, what kind of music you liked. It was cute, really. You’d always wanted a little sister, and Max was probably the coolest thing you could have imagined.

“Hey, Maxy.” You nudge her with your shoulder. “Look at you, all grown up.” She’s flourished since the last time you saw her, which would have to have been right before you’d left for New York. “Sorry I didn’t come visit more.” 

She shrugs. “No biggie, I get it. Although, it is weird to see you two in the same room again.” You know she’s referring to Eddie, but she sends a less than subtle glance in his direction, and you follow it to find him conducting yet another Hellfire pre-campaign meeting. You indulge in watching the show for a minute, the way Eddie leans forward in his chair at the head of the table, face expressive as he alludes to the battles he’s written for his little goblins and you should probably be paying attention to what he’s saying. You hear Max giggling beside you. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Well, despite all this time, you haven’t changed at all.”

“What are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“You still look at Eddie like a lovesick dog.” She rolls her eyes, and you dart yours to the floor. “Hey, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I kind of always knew you two wouldn’t be apart forever.” 

“Okay, missy, you’re gettin’ a little too big for your britches. Eddie and I are barely friends. Acquaintances by circumstance.” Even to yourself, you sound unconvincing. 

“Mhm, sure.” She teases as you turn back to watch the theatrics of the Dungeon Master, despite yourself. 

“Take a pic, Bee, it’ll last longer!” You feel your cheeks burning as Dustin cackles, followed by the groans of the gaggle of boys surrounding him. You stare straight ahead, doing your best to avoid the way Eddie’s eyes are penetrating the side of your face. 

“Dustin, shut the hell up. Upsetting Bee is almost worse than upsetting Eddie.” Mike elbows his friend in the ribs.

“It’s true, dude, you’re playing with fire.” Lucas adds, tone heeding a warning. You hear a thump under the table, followed quickly by Dustin’s cry of “Ow, you bitch!” Followed by a 20 sided die flying at Eddie’s head. Luckily, his fluffy curls soften the blow, Eddie barely even flinching. 

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Henderson.” Eddie practically growls at the boy, eyes darkening with the mischief the rest of them have grown familiar with.

–

“Well, well, well.” Eddie leans back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest with an aura of smugness. “Looks like you’re all out of options.” Your character is mostly unscathed, but you can’t say the same for your campaign party. All of the kids’ characters are on their last legs, Dustin’s even literally, having lost his left lower limb to a corrupted mage about twenty minutes into the game. “Any last words?”

You can tell Dustin regrets his joke from earlier, face trembling with anxiety so palpable you’d think he’d seen this type of horror in real life. “I choose to surrender.” The party only mumble in agreement 

“Roll to see if your surrender is accepted.” Eddie leans in, the grin on his face widening.

Dustin rolls a three. “Shit.”

Eddie throws his head back, a devilish cackle releasing into the air of the apartment. “Oh you poor, poor thing. Looks like your begs for mercy go unheard.” Eddie rolls the die himself, landing on eight. “Hm, seems like you’re getting off a little easy. You may leave unscathed.” Dustin squints his eyes at the older man, waiting for the catch. “All you must do is leave your strongest soldier as collateral.” He leans his elbow on the table, and Dustin follows his gaze to where you sit across from him, too distracted by the look on Eddie’s face to pay attention to what he’s saying. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Bee?” Will’s voice snaps you back to reality. “What do you think?”

“What? Oh,” You look from Eddie, with that stupid smirk on his face, back to your teammates. “You want to sacrifice me?”

“Well, we don’t want to. Clearly you’re the reason we’re still alive here.” Dustin grumbles, fiddling with a handful of dice. “The second we give her to you, Ed, you’re gonna destroy us!”

Eddie only shrugs, giving none of his diabolical plan away to his opponents. “Only one way to find out.”

Dustin looks at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you think, Bee?”

You try to focus on the game. If you surrender, you become what Eddie likes to describe as a henchman. Your moves from here on in are only to benefit him. You’d be turning on your team, but they’d be free to walk away. If you don’t surrender, who knows what the sick and twisted Dungeon Master has up his sleeve for them?

“I guess… I will bravely sacrifice myself for your freedom.” You decide, gracefully gesturing to the younger boys. “I would be honored to die for the good of the campaign.” 

The boys look at each other, ultimately deciding to accept your sacrifice. Eddie, though, throws his head back with his in character evil laughter, swiping your game piece from the board. “And so it shall be! The mage has been sacrificed, and captured by the darkness to distract from the escape of the rest of the party.” He looks from the boys back to you, the smile on his face a little softer. “An honorable risk, indeed.”

–

As promised, the younglings are kicked out promptly at ten, and Eddie is nice enough to bring them all home.

“Bye, guys!” Steve gives a wave before closing and locking the door. “I am fucking exhausted.”

“Yeah, it’s really tiring work sitting on your ass eating pizza.” You snort, clearing the paper plates from the table.

“Hey, you’re one to talk. You got to play a game all night while Eddie made googly eyes at you.” 

His comment stops you in your tracks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, please, like you have no idea!” He looks at you, face contorting from amused to bewildered. “Oh, you really have no idea.”

Robin snorts behind him. “Neither of them have a clue, Stevie.”

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell you’re talking about?” You’re exhausted, and you can’t keep up with your friends’ cryptic bullshit. 

“C’mere.” Robin walks around to sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to her.

“Rob, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Relax, Steve. Bee’s gone through enough, the least we can do is tell her what we know.” You plop down beside your friend, and Steve joins you on the other side. “Bee, what do you know about Eddie coming back to Hawkins?”

You squint at Robin. “As much as you do, I thought! He came back when Chris got released. I still don’t even know where he went after he graduated. Before then, it had been years since we’d spent any time together.” 

Robin nods thoughtfully, like she’s considering your words. “Well, think about it. Why would he choose now to come back? Why would he put the effort in to hang out with us, with you?”

You shake your head, growing more frustrated by the second. “You know I don’t have the answers to any of that. All I know is that Chris told Eddie to rat on him, to save his own ass from being tormented by Hawkins PD. And I only learned that, like, yesterday.” 

Steve chimes in. “Well, at least he finally told you some of the truth.” 

“What?” You turn to face him, your voice straining. “What more is there?”

“Bee,” Robin rests a hand on your shoulder. “He broke up with Macy, he’s hanging out with us every damn day. Don’t pretend you haven’t figured out Eddie’s obsessed with you.”

This shit again. You groan, throwing your head back into the couch cushions. “This is bullshit. You’re making shit up.”

“Okay, if that’s your theory, why the hell would we do that?” Steve seems offended by the accusation.

“How should I know? You guys love to meddle, why would I be exempt from your torment?” 

“It’s hopeless, Rob. We’re gonna have to show her.” 

She shrugs. “Guess so.” She plucks her phone from the coffee table and begins scrolling. “Ah! Here it is.” She turns her phone to face you. Displayed is a picture from the Chappell show, the four of you posing in front of the stage with big, excited smiles on your faces. Well, you, Steve, and Robin are smiling. Eddie isn’t even looking at the camera, but at you. His arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulder, and he’s smiling, eyes focused on the side of your face. Robin hadn’t posted this picture, and you can now understand why. The best way to describe the look on Eddie’s face is lovesick. You feel a lurch in your throat, still examining the photo, the way you hadn’t even noticed him. 

“What am I supposed to take from this?” You try to play it off, despite the impossibility of denying what you’re looking at. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Please, Bee. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it. You know there’s something there.” Robin is practically pleading with you. “I know he has a lot of making it up to you to do, but, what if you gave him the chance? I’m not saying you have to fall in love with him or anything,”

“Though, that would be kind of awesome!” Steve interjects.

“But, I dunno, maybe you guys could be friends again. Maybe things could start healing themselves.”

“Would it get you two off my back?” You half joke, feeling your palms sweating under the pressure. They nod eagerly. “Okay, fine. I’ll try my best to give him a chance. That doesn’t mean I believe a word of what you’re telling me, though.”

Robin and Steve high five over your head. “We’ll take it!” Robin exclaims, jumping from her seat. “And, if he ends up being a total douche bag, you have all the right to say you told us so.” She holds out her pinky to you, and you grab it with your own, sealing the deal.

[gremlin-girly]

Day 8: Sparkling Snow

Pairing: Zemo x f!reader (MCU)

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF, established (secret) relationship, suggestive themes, just lovey-doveyness, pet names (Vrajiatore), Zemo is a gentleman

Summary: You tell your friends that you're headed to Germany for the holidays as a treat to yourself. Little do they know that you're off to see your favourite Sokovian Baron.

word count: 1.8k

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied or reposted or put through an AI machine.

A/N: This is a direct follow on from Flufftober 17 🥰 I kinda love these two... maybe we need another part? 👀 There is a second part that will be linked in an author's note under the cut. Sorry this is late, some unexpected plans popped up yesterday so I couldn't finish editing all of the fics - Love, Grem x

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

Translations: Vrajiatore (meaning witch/enchantress)

Prev | Next | Flufftober 2024 | Masterlist @fluff-cember

When anyone asked your plans for the holidays, inviting you to after-work drinks or their holiday meals in December you had politely declined, saying you had booked yourself a holiday to Germany to see the sights and Christmas Markets.

Everyone seemed pleased with this answer, although you felt guilty for feeding them half truths. They wouldn't really get it and, in fact, may even try and stop you. But then again, when does ' I'm visiting my ex-terrorist, rich Sokovian boyfriend' ever really roll off the tongue?

Zemo had been the one to organise your trip. With the dust finally settled and him in one location, he desperately wanted to see you again; which of course meant sending your one-way first-class ticket to Germany to you via post attached to one of his letters.

At first, you wanted to say no. The trouble it would cause if Sam and Bucky found out. Finding the time to take off work and come up with a suitable lie for your friends and family as to why you wouldn't be around for the holidays making anxiety bubble in your stomach. But the moment you held the tickets between your fingers, you knew you had to see him again.

The tickets were for an open return; Zemo had said in his letter he didn't want you to feel like he was keeping you hostage and that, should you choose to come there was a bed waiting for you, and the moment you wanted to head home you could.

With the only firm date being the outbound flight, you realised that you would have plenty of time to explore and plenty of time to spend with the Baron and you weren't sure which made your heart skip more.

You confirmed your flight before writing back.

It shouldn't have surprised you that you flew first class. Or that Zemo had pre-ordered champagne for your flight. What was surprising, however, was being greeted by a chauffeur.

"Madam L/N," The old man had grinned at you on your approach, setting aside a very pristine piece of A4 paper with your name scrawled on. "The baron sends his regards. He unfortunately cannot enter because -"

You hold up a hand with a soft smile. "No need to explain. I know."

The old man continued to smile as he took your bags, despite arguing you could carry your own, and led you to the car. On the drive to Zemo's family home, you find out the man's name is Oeznik and he has served the Zemo family all his life, having helped raise Helmut (your Zemo) as a baby. You hoped it had been the jet lag when you felt your head swim; first-class and chauffers were already leagues from your day-to-day living but butlers?

The air was crisp when the car finally pulled into a long drive way, the peak of a mansion barely visible over the trees. You scooted forward on the leather car seat, awe-struck at the giant home before you.

"This manor has been in the family for generations," Oeznik says, sounding as awe-struck as you felt, as if he were seeing the house for the first time too. "Helmut grew up here, though it has just been myself and Ms. Anstrom - the head maid - who have been living here until recently."

"Riiiiight." You say quietly, your breath condensing against the window. As soon as you begin to think that this was a terrible idea, that Bucky and Sam should rightly drag you back home for, you see him.

The car is all but parked when your door is flung open and Helmut Zemo stands before you. The excitement radiating from him is palpable and infectious; you're already unbuckling your seatbelt and beaming up at him.

"Vrăjitore," Zemo greeted politely, trying to contain his excitement behind a soft smile. Even though it had been months since you last saw him in person, he hadn't changed much. Clean shaven, soft chestnut hair that was only a little bit longer and those ridiculously enchanting brown eyes that still glimmered when he looked at you. The scent of his cologne travelled to gently caress your nostrils and you felt like a cartoon character floating after the smell of a pie placed precariously on a windowsill.

He offers you a hand, helping you out of the car as Oeznik goes to grab your suitcase and travel bag from the trunk. Zemo raises your hands to lips and placed sweet whispers of kisses against your knuckles that made your heart swoon.

"I trust you had a good flight, yes?"

Your answer was to pull him in close into a tight hug, relishing the scent of him, relishing him entirely. Letters didn't come close to having the real thing before you.

"Yes," you say into his coat, grinning when you felt his arms encase you to him. "I can't believe you had champagne served to me on the flight."

"The least I could do." He chuckles lightly. "You can't fly first class without it."

"I've not been here a day and you're already spoiling me." You peek up from where you're hidden against his chest and grin. "You're setting and awfully dangerous precedent."

Helmut cups your cheeks and places a quick kiss to your lips, opting not to answer your tease. "I'll show you around the house first so you can get acquainted with your surroundings. Then we can eat if you're hungry?"

Nodding your head, you follow Zemo up the stone steps and through the large oak doors, waving a quick goodbye to Oeznik.

The manor is exactly as you'd imagined it to be. The velvet carpets can't find the fact they are worn in some places, nor the cold air that seeps through the wooden flooring that has that dusty old house smell. The windows are thin and creak at every meager breath of wind and you feel a little idiotic for thinking two older people could easily run the upkeep of the estate. However, there is still a charm to the old house. The parts that were more lived in, like the kitchen and living room were pristine.

No cobwebs excepts for the chandeliers, no dust bunnies buried in the corners, and even the big beast of a portrait of Zemo's great grandfather above the fireplace looked like it had just walked out of a gallery.

When you finally climb the long staircase upstairs, munching the cookie Ms. Anstrom thrust into your hands when you visited the kitchen, you have to pause. Downstairs may have been a little worse for wear but the upstairs... you felt like you had just waltzed onto the set of Bridgerton.

You walk down a never ending hallway, Zemo showing you the gorgeous large bathroom, drawing room and one of several guest rooms before stopping at the final one at the end of the hallway.

"This will be your room." He gestures you in first and like the other guest rooms it's huge. Big bay windows show the frosted Christmas Card-esque grounds outside. Unlike the other rooms, however, your bed has soft, silken fitted sheets that you'd dread to guess the price of. As you walk the floors creak slightly but when you take a quick inhale there's no musty smell; it actually smells like a mixture of lavender and vanilla.

"Wow." You say trying to take it all in, doing a short 360-twirl in the centre of the room. "It's..."

But then, you blink at him. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous of you to think you'd be sleeping in the same bed together; after all, this was technically the second time you'd seen eachother. You could feel a blush rising as you clear your throat.

"If it's not to your liking then there are several others to choose from as you've seen." Helmut adds, watching you with a smile. "I can ask Ms. Anstrom to move the bed sheets if-"

"No! - no. This is... great." You blurt quickly and give him a sheepish smile. "It's perfect, really."

His gentlemanly behaviour never ceased to amaze (and woo) you. Perhaps it would be better take everything one small step at a time.

"Excellent." Zemo offers you his hand and a kind smile makes his cheeks dimple. "My room is just across the hall so I won't be far. Now, I believe you've been dragged around enough, food should be served shortly."

Dinner came and went; the vibrant, warm chatter between yourself and Helmut was added to by Oeznik and Ms. Anstrom; who very kindly shared stories and pictures of Helmut as a child and a very grumpy teenager. You never thought you'd see Zemo look so embarassed, his dimpled cheeks glowing as his sweet, doe eyes gave you an almost apologetic look.

After yawning a third time, Ms.Anstrom insisted you head to bed and chided both the men for keeping you up so late.

"They're excited to have someone new around." Zemo commented, walking you to your room. "I think they are bored of me."

You chuckle and give him a playful nudge. "They're lovely. And I hope you aren't jealous from the lack of attention."

"Of you? Never."

You snort and shake your head, pushing open your bedroom door slightly and you turn back to him. "I guess this is good night?"

"Goodnight Vrăjitore," he says, leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. "I'm glad to have you here with me. You know where I am if you need anything."

He moves away slowly, almost resistant to go, and moves across the hall to his room. You watch him go, giving him a small wave as his door closes and you retreat into your room.

You don't know how long you'd be able to resist his gentlemanly charm. Resist him. But as you crawl under your covers you begin to smile to yourself as the memories of the day take root and wonder what the rest of your holiday has in store for you.

The snow glittered along the grounds, coating everything like powdered sugar. Your eyes were alight with childish whimsy but you still shivered as a gust of icy wind howled against the window. You were so lost in your own mesmiration that you didn't hear Zemo behind you, wrapping warm arms around your waist and resting his chin onto your shoulder.

"Vrăjitore," He murmurs to your ear. "Why are you awake so early? Come back to bed."

You rest your head against his, chuckling softly as you watch a dusting of snow blow across the icy plane outside. It was tempting. He was tempting. He was still deliciously warm and toasty, the hair on your arms prickling when his hands brushed down them and he pecked your cheek.

Your eyes catch his in the reflection of the window. Zemo's brown eyes are still heavy with sleep, his hair softly tousled and styled by the silk pillows, but he still manages the effortlessly loving gaze that you are helpless to fight against.

"Fine." You sigh, taking one last look at the sparkling snow before turning your head to him and cupping his warm cheek in your hand. "Let's go back to bed."

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.12. SUPPORT SMALL BUSINESSES DAY

"trace me onto you."

from title fight, left in saitozaki, fukuoka

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

INKED AND MY BISQUE BEAU REFERENCES!!! DEFINITELY PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THESE FICS THEY ARE AMAZING <3 (thank u to @eggyrocks and @wyrcan <33)

AND THANK U AGAIN TO EGGY FOR THEIR AWESOME PLAYLIST <33 LET'S GO TITLE FIGHT

atsumu acted so offended when y/n immediately tagged him saying kiyoko was off limits but he was definitely thinking about asking for her phone number...but that's bc he's an idiot

when suna saw y/n's tweets about buying her coffee he texted osamu like "hey what if u dropped off coffee for y/n and ur girlfriend. i'll pay"

osamu is trying his hardest to maintain that they are NOT dating (yet) but he's secretly getting giddy everytime someone calls mbb y/n his girlfriend (SORRY LMAOOO FOR ANYONE WHO HASN'T READ MBB THIS IS PROBABLY CONFUSING THAT JUST MEANS U SHOULD GO READ IT!!!)

he also (pretending to complain about it) agreed to drop off coffee but he's a gentleman and paid for mbb y/n's coffee and suna paid for (love notes) y/n's coffee <3

double dates between the two in the future?? both pairs are so cute 👀

WAIT AND TRIPLE DATE WITH KIYOKO AND INKED Y/N??? hold on i'm cooking

suna and y/n are both fighting for their lives trying to remain casual but they are literally the FARTHEST THING from acting casual

gonna reinforce this again but literally all the art suna sends y/n is actually stuff he's put up with her in mind <3

and suna got too nervous to say anything about how he feels to y/n because the timing just didn't feel right and then she was like "oh i forget we haven't been BEST FRIENDS forever"

he was biting his fist and going thru the five stages of grief trying to interpret the deeper meanings of that text

and atsumu was not sleeping yet while suna was texting y/n (and technically he did not giggle, it was just like little huffs of laughter whenever she said something cute, yk?)

but they both shut off their phones and immediately went to bed after seeing omi's reply they were literally laying in the dark terrified they were going to hear footsteps and banging on their door

i love including my own experiences in my writing (yes i was forced to learn relative tuning before ANYTHING else in a guitar class and then my high e string broke and attacked me </3)

and!! actually the picture suna uses on his twitter (the "i miss you) is a picture i took in new york <3 if u were wondering why it looks so ugly

and an extra note to provide more context for next chapter!! this away game is the last one before winter break <3 y/n mentioned the holidays in her earthen kiln post because next chapter will be about winter break just so everything is clear <3

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 11

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet, Sinker, Boost, Warthog, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Author's Note: PLEASE READ! I have made the decision to change this series from a reader fic to an OC fic. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this and it's not something I decided on overnight. I don't believe I can do the narrative justice by staying in the constraints of a reader fic, and my first duty is always to the narrative. I'm sorry if this upsets anyone, but trust me, having to go back and re-write everything into third-person past-tense was not on my to-do list. I realize I do not have an OC option on my taglist sign up form. This has been fixed. If you would no longer like to be tagged in this series, please let me know. All of the parts will be updated along with the corrected tags before the next part is posted in two weeks. I apologize for the inconvenience. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

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After the long trek up the Jedi Temple steps, Wolffe placed Cara down onto the ground and let her walk beside him, but he securely held her hand. The Temple still made him feel uneasy, but with a little gentle prodding from Plo, and after passing by several clone troopers, he decided to release Cara's hand and let her walk on her own. He kept one eye on where he was going and the other on her to make sure she didn't wander off on him. She had always been a curious child.

As Plo guided the group through the Temple halls to their new quarters he told Cara a little story that made her giggle and laugh. It warmed Wolffe's heart to hear her laugh and he soaked up as much of it as he could. She had been through so much already, and the funeral was going to ruin any chance of him hearing her laugh in the near future. It wasn't like he laughed much either. His wife was the one who laughed the most, but it was contagious and he always caught it from her.

Along their journey, Wolffe had to stop Cara from touching things that didn't belong to her. She wanted to touch everything within reach and most of it belonged to the Jedi or someone else. The rest of the Wolfpack found it amusing and snickered every time Wolffe veered off from the group to grab his wandering child. He'd never been on babysitting duty before, but his wife made it look easy when they went out together so he thought it wouldn't be an issue for him. He was dead wrong.

"Cara," Wolffe sighed as he sprinted over to her once again. This time it was a cube-shaped shiny-looking object sitting on a table. "If you don't stop walking away from me, I'm gonna have to carry you."

"Look! It's pretty," Cara said as she picked up the cube and admired it.

"It's not yours," Wolffe said. He took the cube from her and placed it back down where she found it.

Cara pouted, turned away from Wolffe, and crossed her arms. "But it was pretty…"

Wolffe's eyes softened and he crouched down to her level. "I know, but just because something is pretty doesn't mean you can take it. That's called stealing."

Cara turned back to face Wolffe, still pouting. "Is stealing bad?"

"Yes, it is," Wolffe said. "The Coruscant Guard can put you in jail for that."

"I don't want to go to jail!" Cara gasped and put her hands behind her back. "I don't like Fox."

Wolffe tried to hide a snort, but failed miserably. "Don't worry, baby, you won't. As long as you stop touching things that don't belong to you."

"Okay," Cara said. She reached her arms up for Wolffe to pick her up and he obliged.

Wolffe fell back into step with the rest of the group as Plo continued to direct them through the Temple. With so many twists, turns, and hallways it wouldn't be easy for Cara to leave the temple, even by accident, which was one of Wolffe's major concerns about getting deployed. Actually, he had a whole list of concerns, but he could only focus on one at a time. He never used to be such a worrier, not with his wife around, but now, so many things could go wrong if he wasn't there with her.

"We have arrived," Plo said as he stopped and turned to face a plain door in the hallway.

Wolffe was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard his general's voice and realized that he'd been walking on autopilot for the last stretch of the journey. He'd have to access the Temple maps later to make sure he knew where all of the entrance and exit routes to and from the room were. He'd memorize the entire Temple layout if he had to. He refused to leave any of this up to chance. There was too much at stake. He couldn't stay focused on a mission if he was thinking about Cara's welfare.

Wolffe placed Cara down and took a hold of her hand. This was new for the both of them, but they'd do it together, even if it was scary. Plo opened the door and Wolffe did an immediate visual scan for threats and initial observations. It was spacious compared to any living quarters the GAR had ever given him, but it looked rather restricting for Cara, who had lived her whole life in a multi-room apartment. It was a simple layout with a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a window, and, thankfully, no enemies.

Cara grabbed Wolffe's leg and stepped behind him to hide. He could tell she was nervous, but so was he.

"Daddy," her voice trembled. "I want to go home."

Wolffe twisted his neck around to look down at her and sighed. He gave her an encouraging pat on the back and walked forward into the room with her following behind. "This…" he began, but hesitated. "This is home now." The words tasted bitter even for him, but if he was going to convince Cara, he needed to convince himself first. It definitely wasn't home. Not by a longshot. Home was their apartment. Home was pretty curtains and smelly flowers. Home was a warm meal. Home was his wife.

"Out of the way!" Sinker shouted as he barreled past Wolffe and Cara. "Man with a box coming through!"

Cara giggled and Wolffe shook his head as the rest of the Wolfpack filed into the small room.

Boost plopped down onto the bed and bounced on it with exaggerated motions. "This bed is super soft. Softer than any bed I've ever slept on. You should feel it!"

Cara let go of Wolffe's leg and ran over to the bed to try it out for herself.

"Look at this!" Warthog exclaimed over his shoulder. "There's a window too. You can see all of Coruscant from up here!"

Cara hopped off of the bed and ran over to look out the window. She was just a tad bit too short, so Warthog picked her up so she could see.

Comet walked into the room last and pulled open the doors of the wardrobe. "Wow," he said with a big smile. "Lots of space in here, too. You're really staying in luxury, ad'ika."

Wolffe crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head as a small smile crept onto his face. What was once a terrifying situation was now an exciting adventure thanks to the Wolfpack. They knew he was scared just as much as Cara was, even if he'd never admit it, and their exaggerated display had not only eased her fears, but some of his own as well. She was smiling, giggling, laughing, exploring, and seemed fine right now. They saw her fear and shot it point blank like the good soldiers they were.

"Commander," Plo said, interrupting Wolffe's thoughts. "If you will excuse me, I have a briefing to attend."

Wolffe's small smile turned into a grimace. "Understood," he said. "I'll grab my kit."

"No need," Plo dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I will take the sergeant with me. You are much more needed here."

Wolffe looked at Sinker, who nodded in agreement. "I'll report back when the briefing is over."

"And I will meet you all on the terrace in a couple hours," Plo said, a sadness invading his voice.

Wolffe nodded in response and watched as the two left. He worried his lip and wondered what the briefing was about. Normally a briefing meant they were about to deploy, but he hoped that this time it was the slim case where it wasn't a deployment order, because the thought of leaving Cara so soon burned a hole straight through his gut. They still had the funeral to deal with, and he couldn't abandon her after that. It would make him a deplorable father and human being, but a very good soldier.

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[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 37: unwelcome (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list 1-30 - M.list 30-60 - Ao3

A/N: happy saturday! things are rough right now in the political sphere. I couldn't get this chapter together in time to be able to do a bonus update to lift the spirits a little, but I'm gonna be here writing no matter what, I promise.

Summary: You're starting to think that life may just be a cycle of recovery and the things you're recovering from. All the same, you try to recover with grace.

Warnings and Tags: none in particular!

Word count: ~4200

You wake up to your phone blaring at you.

Your head hurts, your phone's too loud, you feel like the victim of a hit-and-run. For the briefest of moments, you half-expect to find Noya laying in the futon next to you, like you've just recently been concussed, like someone's going to chide you if you try to clean up any of your own messes. Except—this isn't Noya's bedroom. You're in your futon in your living room, Cinnabun in your arms. Your father's sitting on the couch nearby, actually, having looked up from his laptop at the noise.

You reach for your phone, intent on turning off the alarm. Too bad for you, you're officially recovered enough from the concussion to have to deal with your messes on your own again, and rather than an alarm going off, one of those messes is calling you right now.

You answer, unable to feel the building dread beneath the cough in your throat. You even manage a bleary hello? before you actually start coughing.

"Damn, you sound like shit," Asuka says in greeting. "Are you okay?"

You take a moment to catch your breath. "Uh, maybe. Sort of think my immune system's being put through one of those pasta maker things right now. Also, my lungs. What's up?"

"Did you forget? We had a date."

Ah, fuck. It's Sunday. That explains why your dad's home. "No, shit, sorry, I—I just woke up—" If you could stop coughing, you could maybe manage to explain yourself. "I think I need to reschedule. Otoo-san's taking me to the doctor, I think."

Your dad looks up from his laptop. He nods.

Asuka lets out a sigh through the phone. "Sorry you're not feeling well. Next Sunday?"

A nod. "I'm really sorry. I don't think you want whatever I have. Next Sunday."

"Feel better, [surname]-chan."

~

Somehow, returning to practice after having been sick never quite feels triumphant. It's embarrassing, really, not to mention the inherent fear—that the team won't be happy to see you, that you won't have been missed, that you're not welcome.

The gym is a place you've learned to breathe easy. As your feet cross the threshold today, you feel like you can't breathe at all.

You'd like to think you're somewhat of a master of denial, so you deal with this feeling the same way you deal with most feelings you'd rather go away: you try convincing yourself that it's only the cough overstaying its welcome and making your throat tight, that it's congestion in your chest making it difficult to breathe. If you can do that, maybe you'll calm down. Maybe you'll be okay.

Naturally, there are other plans in place for you, which is why, three steps into the gym, you find that there's a familiar pair of arms around your waist, that your feet have left the ground, that the world is spinning around you. You also find that the yelp you'd usually let out at such an injustice is replaced by another coughing fit. Lucky that you're wearing a mask.

Especially since Noya seems keen on holding you even when he knows you're sick.

He hasn't visited since the first day you were sick—mostly on your insistence. You've texted a lot, though—check-ins, updates on the team and the now-plural cats, pictures of or with one or both of the cats in question. When you'd been too busy coughing your brains out and missed a practice match, he'd even called to give you the play-by-play, so you didn't feel like you'd missed anything.

You hadn't told Noya you'd be back today, so maybe you should have expected him to scoop you up this way. This is the first time you've been around him—really been around him—since his little speech, since your little realization, and the proximity is killing you. "[name]-san! You're back!"

"Hi, Senpai," you reply weakly.

He keeps your feet off the ground, leans back with your weight as he grins up at you. He sways you gently. "You're feeling better? I see that mask."

"Just a precaution," you manage. "The doctor says I'm not contagious anymore, but I'm still coughing sometimes, so…"

Your words must have been too tight, too heavy, because Noya tilts his head and pouts a little. "You okay?"

"Nervous," you whisper back.

"Nervous?"

"Wired," you correct. "I dunno. I just wouldn't like me very much if I were any of your friends."

"Our friends," he corrects swiftly. "And they aren't mad at you, but if they cause any problems, you're gonna tell me."

You sigh a little. Brace a hand on his shoulder as he finally sets you down. "I'm not gonna make problems with the team. I'd rather—"

"Oh! By the way!"

You sigh. Let him steamroll you.

"I have cat news!"

"Cat news?" you repeat, marginally more excited. He's sent you plenty of pictures, plenty of little updates, but so far, Noya hasn't told you the important things: no name, no verdict.

He nods. "I wanted to tell you in person, but you banned me from getting too close while you were sick! We took him to the vet, and not only is he perfectly healthy, but! He's not chipped, and Okaa-san caved, so…" The edges of his grin soften a little. "You get full visitation rights for Tsuyu."

"Tsuyu?" you repeat. "You actually—you named him Tsuyu?"

"Turns out the girls love the joke."

There's a little twinge of emotion—you've been more emotional than usual recently—and then you're smiling beneath the mask. "That's—I didn't even bring it up."

"We all had a name to put into the ring, so…" A little tilt of the head. "I didn't have a better idea, so I gave credit instead."

"Oh thank god, you two are talking again," Ennoshita says from behind you. "Welcome back, [name]-san. Please never fight with Nishinoya again. He's miserable without you."

Your cheeks burn. "O-oh, come on, I'm sure it wasn't—"

"I am miserable without you," Noya moans. He's now draping himself over your shoulder. "You're my sunlight, I need you or else I'll—"

You snort, giggle, cut off in a cough. "Oh my god, shut up."

Kageyama, walking past, takes a moment to regard you both. "Please don't fight again. Nishinoya-san plays better when you're on good terms."

Before you fully process it, Noya's launched off of you in a tirade, barking something at Kageyama about crouch down to my level so I can lecture you, something about the implication that he hasn't been playing well recently, and Ennoshita takes the chance to sidle up beside you.

"It's good to see you back."

You don't believe it for a second. "Thanks."

"Mind if I ask what that whole deal was? I knew you guys were fighting, and his sister told him about the boyfriend in front of the second-years, so we found out about that pretty quick, but…"

You shrug. "There's… not that much more to it. We got into a fight that was stupid. I self-destructed a little bit for unrelated reasons and got a boyfriend out of it. I've talked to Noya-senpai, and I don't think he's exactly happy with it, but the air's cleared and I'm giving the boyfriend a solid chance since I already said yes."

He winces. "Ouch. It's not really my place to judge, but are you sure that's a good idea?"

A sigh. "Everyone so far has told me it's a horrible one, but… I mean, Senpai's basically sworn he's gonna make the guy hate him, so chances are we break up pretty quickly."

A raised eyebrow. "You're pitting them against each other?"

"I'd actually really rather not. The guy's not serious and he's kind of a known cheater, but… I dunno. Every time I've tried to break up over text I end up not sending it. Guess I'm trying to prove to myself that it won't work out or something. You can judge me if you want. I know I'm fucking all of this up."

"Statements like that are why I'm not judging you. Knowing you, you'll make it up to him."

"And the rest of you?" you mutter. "I don't know where to begin with everyone else."

He shrugs. "I think what you did was messed up, and Nishinoya seemed really upset by it, but I don't think you need to make things right with the rest of us as long as you make it right with him."

"Would that really rebuild any amount of respect, though? Everyone was looking at me differently when they found out."

"I mean, they probably were, yeah. It didn't make any sense. You went from tracking him down with homemade lunches for lunch dates—"

"—oh my god, how many times do I have to say it wasn't—"

"—because of some racy bet you weren't willing to give details about, to like… dating some random guy we'd barely even heard of. You didn't even look happy about it, and you're like, insanely easy to read with any amount of practice."

"What? No I'm not."

He levels a look at you. "Are you gonna tell me you're not jealous of Shimizu?"

"I'm not jealous. Jealous implies a level of catty and petty bullshit, and it's not like I'm putting the blame on her for it."

"But you don't like watching him simp after her."

"That's—shouldn't you be getting ready for practice?"

He chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. "All I'm saying is, I think you're more welcome here than you think you are. Focus on making it up to Nishinoya, not the rest of us."

"What are you, my brother?" you grumble. He doesn't answer, so you add: "By the way, could I trouble you for your notes from the past two weeks ago at some point? I promised Noya I'd help him get caught up, so I'd like to have half an idea what I'm talking about."

"See? Like that. I'll text you my notes later, just remind me, alright?"

~

Honestly, the complete lack of treating you like shit on the part of the team is throwing you off. Over lunch, you work with Yachi to get caught up on missed assignments, and in afternoon practice, you're welcomed just as much as before. You suspect that Noya's influenced this, one way or another—probably told them not to hate you, even though you really were ready for it. You can see him, in your mind's eye, telling them in no uncertain terms to lay off.

Either way, he's happy to be around you, and you relax into his presence.

So much so that, on your way out of afternoon practice, you've almost forgotten that you have a boyfriend until he calls your name.

"Hey, there you are!" Asuka calls as he jogs to catch up. "I heard you were back at school today; you should've texted!"

Beside you, Noya is already wound up. You successfully fight back a cringe and elbow Noya a little, a silent plea to be nice.

"Sorry," you manage. "You know how it is with my head. Did you just get out of practice?"

He nods, grins. "Wanna walk home together? I feel like we haven't had any time together since I asked you out." His voice is subtly smug, his eyes on Noya as he speaks. "You two are talking again?"

Ah. He's trying to provoke Noya. You nod. "Yeah, we worked through it. I don't mind walking home with you, but Noya and I live pretty close, so he'll have to tag along. Is that okay?"

Asuka's eyes narrow. "I guess. It really can't be avoided?"

"No, sorry," you chirp. "I know you guys don't really click, but Noya-senpai is my best friend. He's non-negotiable. I'd like it if you at least tried not to start shit." Your eyes slide to Noya. "That goes for you, too, Senpai. Be nice."

Asuka sighs, falling into step beside you. When his arm settles over your shoulder, it takes every fiber of your being to resist tensing up. "Fine. I won't start shit."

"Asuka, right?" Noya says, smile tight. "Sorry about last time. I was having a bad day."

He flashes a tight smile in return. "No problem, man."

Bless everything, quite honestly, when the first of several coughs tears from your throat. You stop walking, buckle a little.

"You okay, [name]-san?" Noya asks when you've recovered.

You nod weakly. Asuka's stepped back from you—it's Noya's hand on your shoulder, steadying you all over again. "Yeah. Just can't shake the stupid cough, I guess."

Asuka frowns. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay for this weekend?"

Oh, right. Sunday. "I mean, I'm not contagious anymore or anything, but if you'd rather not…"

"Sunday?" Noya tilts his head.

"Yeah. We had a date, but I don't exactly wanna get sick, so…"

He snorts. "She just said she's not contagious."

"Boys," you interrupt sharply. "Are we trying not to start shit?"

"Sorry, [name]-san."

Asuka sighs. "You're sure you're all clear?"

You nod. "The doctor said I was clear if I made it a day without fever. It's been two or so. The cough is just like… leftover."

"Then… I guess it should be fine." He's hesitant, blissfully doesn't return his arm to your shoulder. "I'll pick you up after practice Sunday?"

"Sure."

You scrabble about in your head for any topic of conversation to shift to that doesn't lead to more tension between the guys. Noya's gone a little quiet, for reasons you can guess, but he ends up being the one who provides something, and for just half a second, you're grateful to hear him break the quiet.

"So, Asuka. You've got a sister, right?"

What the fuck, man.

Okay, wait, you can steer this: "Oh, really? I didn't know that! I'm so jealous. I don't have any siblings."

Asuka shrugs. "She's not that great. She's kinda stuck-up, honestly."

You affect a little pout. "It's lonely being an only child, though. I always wanted to have an older sister growing up."

Noya snickers. "Is that why you're so close to Satsuki?"

"A little," you admit. "It's also just because she's cool as hell. I'd probably be just as close with Mei-san and Kaede-san if they weren't so busy."

"You can have my sister," Asuka says jokingly. "Our parents are always comparing us and shit. It's obnoxious. Like, yeah, fine, Hitomi's never done anything wrong in her life, I get it."

You listen to him rant, walk together until he splits just past Sakanoshita. Approximately three seconds after he's said his goodbye—to you only, ignoring Noya completely—a warm arm winds around your waist. "You have a date this weekend."

His tone's almost accusing. Guilt surges in your chest.

"I told you I'd give him an honest shot. I think that probably involves at least one date."

"You could barely tolerate his arm over your shoulder. You're not gonna, like, develop feelings for him. You're barely even comfortable with him."

The implication is clear, of course, and you get it, but… "One date, Noya. I won't even give you details. You can pretend it never even happened."

"How am I supposed to do that? I'm not gonna be able to focus on anything if I know you're out running around with that jackass. It took all of my self control not to punch him just for touching you."

You neglect to point out that he's the one who needled him into not rescheduling again. "I appreciate your self-control. Genuinely." You sigh. "I'll make it up to you?"

"Come over, then. Kaa-san wants me to bring you over for dinner again soon, and I need a focus buddy. That, and someone to make Satsuki be extra careful so she doesn't over-season dinner again."

"Big criticisms from the guy who's had no real cooking lessons. And you're studying? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not studying yet," he corrects with a grin. "I can't study without eye candy. If I don't have your beautiful presence in the room with me, I'll never be able to focus."

A roll of the eyes. "Sure, right. I'm sure that's what you need."

As you near his place, the tension eases a little. He finds other topics of conversation, ones that don't hurt you both. "Did you mean what you said about wanting an older sister?"

You let out a fond huff. "Yeah. I guess I used to beg my parents for an older sister. I didn't get why they couldn't just make another kid who was older than me."

He laughs, tugs you a little closer. It's a bit difficult to walk this way, but you make it work, your head bumping against him as you walk. "Guess you've just gotta…" He trails off, like he's just remembered something. You glance up at him, watch the ease in his expression slip away.

"Noya? You okay?"

"No, yeah, sorry. So when're you gonna teach me to cook?"

"Um… hm. I gotta use up that chicken soon. If I'm not still dying tomorrow, do you wanna do tomorrow?"

"I also wanna do tomorrow if you are still dying. Is that an option?"

"Sure," you reply with a little laugh. "I'd love to."

~

Over snacks in the living room, you sit with Noya and you study. You get texts from Yachi for the notes you've missed while you were out and texts from Ennoshita with all the second years' notes from the past two weeks. You share them with Noya and redirect him whenever he loses focus, manage breaks. He's more restless than usual.

Just one date, you tell yourself. Just one.

When Satsuki catches sight of you on her way into the kitchen, you pretend not to notice the cold air that settles over your shoulders, the glare raking over you. You wait until you hear her start something in the kitchen, and then you call another break, silently thankful when Noya takes the chance to run to the bathroom. You wait two seconds after he's disappeared down the hall, and then, you join Satsuki in the kitchen.

"Hey, Heartbreaker," Satsuki greets. Half-joking, half-cold. "Heard you're staying with the baseball cuck."

You sigh, lean against the door frame. "For now. I'm just giving him an honest chance, since I already agreed to date him."

"I don't really get how I'm supposed to not be mad at you just because Yuu said not to be."

"I'd understand it if you were, but…" You shrug. "I'll tell you what I told him. I didn't do any of that to spite or hurt Senpai."

"You did hurt him, though. You get that, right? Just because you didn't want to doesn't mean you didn't." She moves confidently enough through the kitchen, no sign of whatever bad cooking Noya warned you of. That feels like so long ago now.

"I know. I'm trying to make that better, alright?"

"So what're you talking to me for? I'm not the one you hurt."

"Nee-san," you say, firm but quiet, "I'm trying to make things right with you because it clearly bothers you, and you're important to Noya-senpai."

She sighs. "If it's that important to you, maybe get some fucking therapy, I dunno. That, or just stop doing shit like this." Satsuki gestures vaguely, exaggeratedly, in your direction. The kitchen knife really punctuates her sentence differently.

"I am." The words catch in your throat a little, a harsh lump. "I talked to Otoo-san about it, and he agreed. I just have to settle on a list of therapists to try to get in with so he can start trying to make an appointment with one of them. We don't know when I start yet, but we talked about me going every other week so I don't miss too much club stuff."

She pauses. Stares at you, studies you. "You're really gonna get help?"

"I mean, I guess that depends on whether Otoo-san follows through, but I'm trying."

"Ugh." She groans, drops her head forward for a moment. "Fucking hate it when I can't even hold a grudge about the thing. Alright, Heartbreaker, give me the story. If you didn't do all this shit to hurt Yuu, why did you?"

"He's too real. I think that's all it is. Asuka-san is… really obviously just screwing around. I think he wants arm candy more than anything. He thinks he can pull me in with negging and childish bullshit, he barely wants to be around me—and like, he doesn't know a damn thing about me, but that's okay because he doesn't matter and this relationship doesn't matter. Everything with Senpai matters so fucking much."

"You know he's probably gonna cheat on you, if he isn't already? You know his sister's terrified of what happens if he or their parents find out about me? You know he treated me like shit when he came to me for information on you?"

You furrow your brow. "He… came to you about me?"

"Yeah. You haven't really had any need of my services, but usually if people wanna find stuff out about other Karasuno students, they end up coming to me. I'm just really good at asking the right people the right questions. Your boyfriend ended up coming to me when one of your volleyball friends wouldn't give him any information."

"I didn't hear about that. What did you, um…"

"Told him you were Yuu's girl and he should lay off before he gets a broken heart or a broken bone. I'm still holding out for both of those. Also, made him pay way more than my usual rates for way less information. He got, like, basically just your name and that you were a volleyball club manager for a whole bag of imported candy. Usually for shit like that someone would at least be getting a phone number and a good word, but he was on my bad side from the start, so…"

You snort. "What, just because he was interested in me?"

"No. If he'd backed off when I told him to, that'd be one thing, but he was a real dick the entire time. And that was before I looked into him."

Kinda wish you'd heard about this. It might not have changed all that much, but…

"I told Yuu to watch out for any guys trying to get close to you because Asuka was such bad news when I looked into him. I guess it kind of backfired, but, you know, I didn't do it for Yuu's sake, I did it for yours. The fact that keeping you from getting into a relationship with that guy would have been ideal for Yuu was a bonus. We're just worried about you."

You sigh. "I really, really hate it when people worry about me."

"Why?"

You pause. No one's ever asked you that before. You certainly haven't taken the time to think about the answer. "It just feels bad, alright? I don't like it."

"You should get over that. People are gonna care about you, and they're gonna worry, and they're gonna want nice things for you. It's part of fucking existing, Lovergirl."

"If it were that easy, I would," you grumble.

"Maybe just like… bring it up with your therapist, I dunno. But sometimes you gotta do things that aren't that easy. If not for your sake, then for the people that you care about. So buck the fuck up and get over it, so you can let people care about you."

This might be the least helpful pep talk you've ever received. Somehow, it's still sort of working?

"I was kinda gonna come in here and ask you to punch me and get it over with so I could earn your forgiveness," you mumble, "but I guess a pep talk works."

"Damn right it does. You're gonna work on your shit, you're gonna get that therapist, and you're gonna tell my brother you love him. Get those done, and you've got my forgiveness."

She's asking a lot. It's nothing you can't handle.

…someday.

Maybe.

Eventually.

"I… I'm not ready for that yet," you whisper. "But I promise, when I am, I…"

She smiles, easy and brilliant. "Great. I'll look forward to it."

~

Yuu slumps in the doorway, heart racing. He hadn't really wanted to eavesdrop—honestly, his goal had been to sneak up on you, but then he'd caught the conversation, and, well—he couldn't just interrupt like that.

So he didn't. So he listened.

So he heard Satsuki tell you to tell him you loved him.

So he heard you agree, quiet.

So his heart has moved into his throat for the foreseeable future.

He clutches his chest, as though that will help him catch his breath. He bites back on every marry me that threatens to burst from his throat. He counts them, to keep calm, to add to his journal.

Fuck any rivalry with your shitty boyfriend. Fuck your stupid date this weekend. He's already won.

(Times Noya's held back: 28)

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[multi-lefaiye]

wip trope bingo!!

yoinking my good friend @vacantgodling's open tag and filling out this wip trope bingo!!!! i know i've been tagged in this before and i'm so sorry i have fully forgotten who else tagged me because it was a while ago. but anyway.

rules: Download and fill out the prev writer's bingo card and then go to BingoBaker and create a bingo card with the tropes and elements of your own WIPs. Tag as many people as you like and see who can get a bingo!

i'm filling this out for two different wips: the moon holds its breath (which still needs a wip re-intro), and then the still unnamed fantasy wip borne from my dark crystal hyperfixation that i'm working out the details of and will introduce eventually

first: the moon holds its breath. also almost marked historical fiction since it takes place in the early 1990s, but thinking about that gave me a brief crisis so i put that aside. everything else applies here, in one way or another.

second: the dark crystal thing. uh. dw about it. simply do not worry about the two bingos here. (also cults may end up being part of this but as of right now they're not.)

and now... for my bingos! gonna make one for these two wips as well, lmao. first is for tmhib, the second is for the unnamed dark crystal-inspired thing.

i may have perhaps missed the point about it being a general tropes bingo and instead just made them a list of vibes and topics that are important somehow. or just me being silly.

also gonna leave this as an open tag, but if you fill out either of these PLEASE feel free to tag me so i can see :3 <33

[cabinofimagines]

Chapter IV; convincing

So it took a while, but at some point I realised I wanted to finish writing at least arc one before posting the rest so oops.

Word Count: 1.2k

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-Asnyox

You both re-entered the clearing, followed closely by an overly excited Mrs. O’Leary. 

"No problem, I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs." You overheard Percy saying. Nico was the first of you two to speak up, letting your presence be known to the demigod and tree nymph. 

"Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well." You could see clearly that Percy was nervous as he tried to smile. You were aware that Nico had made it pretty clear to Percy what his plan was, and if you were in this kid’s shoes you would have been nervous too. Luckily, you were just an idiot tagging along in the plan.

"Welcome back. Did you come by just to see Juniper? And who is your friend?" Nico blushed and you wondered whether it was about the friend thing, or about Juniper.

"This is (Y/n), and um, no. That was an accident. I kind of . . . dropped into the middle of their conversation." Blushing out of embarrassment then, you inwardly cheered. He also did not deny the friend comment you happily noted.

"He scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. But, Nico, you are the son of Hades and all. Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?" Nico shifted his weight. Ah, she must have been crying worried over her lover. You had caught some of the stories around camp, however you did not know any of these people personally, so you tended to mind your own business. 

"Juniper, like I tried to tell you . . . even if Grover died, he would reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls." "But if you do hear anything?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. "Anything at all?" Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Uh, you bet. I'll keep my ears open." 

"We'll find him, Juniper," Percy promised. "Grover's alive, I'm sure. There must be a simple reason why he hasn't contacted us." She nodded glumly. "I hate not being able to leave the forest. He could be anywhere, and I'm stuck here waiting. Oh, if that silly goat has gotten himself hurt—" Mrs. O'Leary bounded back over and took an interest in Juniper's dress. Juniper yelped. "Oh, no you don't! I know about dogs and trees. I'm gone!" She went poof into green mist. You gaped at her disappearance, never having gotten close to a tree nymph before. 

Mrs. O'Leary looked disappointed, but she lumbered off to find another target, leaving Nico, Percy and me alone. Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off. You were impressed by his control, but truly you felt as if this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. 

"I was sorry to hear about Beckendorf." Nico said and you downcast your gaze, having heard the news quiet recently. This was one of the first people from camp that you knew who died, and the news had taken a toll on camp. 

"How did you—" Percy started, and you were reminded that he was there with Beckendorf on the ship. "I talked to his ghost." So the rumours about Nico’s powers were true – he could actually converse with the dead. "Oh . . . right." "Did he say anything?" 

"He doesn't blame you. He figured you'd be beating yourself up, and he said you shouldn't." "Is he going to try for rebirth?" Nico shook his head. 

"He's staying in Elysium. Said he's waiting for someone. Not sure what he meant, but he seems okay with death." You weren’t sure how to feel about these developments, but before you could give it much thought Percy started talking again.

"I had a vision you were on Mount Tarn," he told Nico. "Was that—" 

"Real," Nico said. "I didn't mean to be spying on the Titans, but I was in the neighbourhood." "Doing what?" 

Nico tugged at his sword belt. "Following a lead on . . . you know, my family." Percy nodded. You side eyed your friend, wanting the ask for an elaboration. However, you had felt him close the moment Percy started asking questions to him. You had heard a whisper about a sister, but there was nothing you could go off from. Nico was a mystery to you and you wished you could unravel it. 

"So how did it go?" Percy asked. "Any luck?" 

"No," he murmured. "But I may have a new lead soon." 

"What's the lead?" 

Nico chewed his lip. "That's not important right now. You know why I'm here." You saw Percy’s face fall. You knew Nico wanted you to help convince Percy, but you had barely exchanged a word with the son of Poseidon before. What were you supposed to do? Tell him you would safe him from being stabbed? 

"Nico, I don't know," Percy said. "It seems pretty extreme." 

"You've got Typhon coming in, what . . . a week? Most of the other Titans are unleashed now and on Kronos's side. Maybe it's time to think extreme." Nico looked towards you as to urge you to help him. You stepped forward. 

“If I may, Percy, “ you looked the son of Poseidon in the eye, surprised by the distrust in them, “I’ve been at camp since April – if Nico hadn’t brought me here I would have been dead and I know that even with how hard I – we – camp has been working,” you heard sounds of fighting in the distance, ��I fear we are hardly a match for the Titan army.” Nico nodded in agreement. 

“This comes down to you and Luke. And there's only one way you can beat Luke We can give you the same power," Nico urged. "You heard the Great Prophecy. Unless you want to have your soul reaped by a cursed blade . . ." You hadn’t heard the prophecy fully yourself – around camp it was deemed a kind off taboo to mention or talk about.

“You can't prevent a prophecy," Percy said. 

"But you can fight it." Nico had a strange, hungry light m his eyes. "You can become invincible." 

"Maybe we should wait. Try to fight without—" 

"No!" Nico snarled. "It has to be now!" You were startled at his outburst – but you did agree with him. 

"Urn, you sure you're okay?" Percy asked and you threw him a wary look. 

“Percy, look,” you started as you noticed Nico taking a deep breath, “It will be significantly harder, maybe even impossible to take this journey when the fighting starts. Maybe even too late- if you want to prevent any more losses, deaths on our side you must go now.”

“I'm sorry if I'm being too pushy,” Nico’s gaze was strict towards Percy, “but two years ago my sister gave her life to protect you. I want you to honour that. Do whatever it takes to stay alive and defeat Kronos”

"All right," Percy decided. "What do we do first?"

[coffeehighallthetime-blog]

I'm Kind, Not Complacent chpt 7

chpt 7

word count: 2.6k

pairing: gow heimdall x reader, kids!

A/N: hello. I'm sorry this is late, I have been going through it 👉👈 and I'm just trying my best lol. thank you as usual to everyone who likes and comments and thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy it! there is not much Heimdall content in this chapter but I hope you enjoy hanging out with Freya!

@engardeitsme thank you, lovey for your support I appreciate you endlessly!

@nokolla @lunaryasha, thank you for reading and appreciating my writing! if anyone else would like to be tagged just let me know!. hope you all enjoy!

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Freya’s room was full of natural sunlight. Her windows reached from floor to ceiling, creating triangular shapes through the plant-filled space. Bare wooden beams braided with ivy vines and sweet moss towered high above into the scaffolding, and Yn’s eyes trailed from one to the other, how different breeds of plants dangled from hooks, and spiralled down towards her as if they wanted to greet her.

Yn turned her eyes to Freya's back as she walked around her table, watering her different plants. 

“Go on then, pick up a watering can,” Freya spoke over her shoulder and Yn stiffened at being caught staring around once again before setting her things down and grabbing a pail, dipping it into a deep basin before joining Freya in water the plants around the room.

Yn had been going to lessons with Freya for nearly two months now, and the days always started the same. Freya never came to get her, it was Yn’s responsibility to come to the chamber on time, and if she was late, Freya stated the door would be locked. The goddess had taught her on her first day the importance of caring for the plants, especially since they were going to be taking from them. It must be an equal exchange. As a result, they had spent the first two weeks focusing on the care of Freya’s plants, how to water, how much, what the soil needs to be like for each specimen, feeding carnivorous varieties, pruning dead leaves and shriveled growth, and finally spells to whisper whilst the care is given to promote healthy growth. It had all made the girl's head spin at first, and the goddess didn’t seem to care if she caught up to the information or fell behind. Despite this, Yn quickly picked up the pieces, taking every challenge in stride with a smile on her face.

Freya finished first, sitting to prepare a pot of tea for the two as she watched the girl finish her pruning and watering. In their first few sessions, Yn would rush to finish after seeing Freya had stopped. However, after being scolded about skipping steps, clipping fresh leaves, and underwatering, the girl had learned to ignore what was going on around her and focus on doing a diligent job on her own time.

Freya would wait patiently, brewing tea and setting up the rest of their lesson. She had note cards next to specimens, explaining their names and what they were used for. There were step-by-step instructions on potions, with the ingredients put to the side, and pronunciations of incantations.

“It’s important we look at individual pieces. This way we can distinguish what needs to be added together to get the results we want.” Freya explained as Yn approached, sitting to sip her tea as Freya finished setting up. 

“These are the specimens I had you research last week. I want you to look at each one, and from memory, tell me what each one is used for and how to apply it best.” Yn nodded as she immediately started to examine leaf shapes and textures to sort the different plants, writing her deductions on fresh parchment. Freya gave her this test once a week, and as Yn’s pen moved swiftly against the paper, the goddess could not help the pride that bubbled, nor could she ignore the raven watching them from the rafters, its bright red eye trained on the girl as she flawlessly recited newfound knowledge. Freyr glared up at it from the corner of her eye, a vine whipping to shoo it off its perch,  “After this, we will work on spell pronunciation and if there is time, we will spare until the sun sets.”

“Yes, ma’am.” the girl spoke, focused on her task. Freya raised a brow as the girl started to configure the plants in a pattern of the different characteristics they possessed, and then into the different medicines they could be used for, Including tonics the goddess had not yet taught her. In particular, a medicine using a combination of yarrow and mallow.  Yn looked up to meet Freya’s gaze and smiled sheepishly. “I noticed these are both strong plants for healing and thought they may be good for a wider variety of healing if they were to be combined. Mimir taught me a bit about mallow, which is from here in Asgard, but this is from Vanir, right?” She held up the yarrow and Freya nodded.

“You’re combining ingredients from different realms?”

“O-oh, is that not allowed?” Yn frowned, lowering the plants, grabbing her notes, and flipping to a page for Freya to see her writings. The girl had been doing some of her own research on the combinations of specimens. Freya’s brow furrowed as she read the scribbles. They were conclusions she had come to but never thought to teach the girl for fear it may bring too much attention to her from Odin. 

“ It’s complicated. We are meant to be focusing on Vanir magic for the time being.”

“Ah ok… I just thought… u-m it’s stupid, I’m sorry-” Freya shook her head and smiled, tapping at the girl’s notes.

“Explain it to me.” Yn smiled and explained her process as Freya pushed over the mortar and pestle so they could test the hypothesis. The magic was sound and Freya couldn’t help the smile that kept pulling at her cheeks. The girl was exceptionally bright and used her affinity for logic to aid her in her studies. Odin was right to show an interest in the girl, and that was the true cause for Freya’s want to keep the girl at the basics for as long as possible. Yet despite this, the girl’s intelligence was inspiring and her passion, infectious. For a moment, on these odd mornings during lessons, Freya lost herself in the innocence of the young goddess’s exploration and tried her best to ignore her true reason for being tasked to teach the girl.  

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I can’t do this,” Freya whispered to Mimir as they traded the girl for her lessons. The man stiffened slightly, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. He smiled down at her and pushed her toward the door. 

“Go set your things down, lass, I’ll be right with ya.” Yn frowned but complied, worried she was in trouble. As the door shut, Mimir whipped to stare down at the goddess.

“That is not for you to decide.”

“She’s just a child.” Freya stood ridged, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at the satir. Mimir stood his ground, his visage unreadable to her. Freya had always hated his ability to not show his emotions on his face. 

“She’s been given a purpose here, my queen. A purpose bestowed onto her by the All-Father himself. Or have you forgotten?”

“I have forgotten nothing,” she spat, her eyes like hot coals. “I know very well why she’s here and refuse to continue raising another warhorse for him to-

“The girl is bright and strong, and we are only helping her on-”

“So she can be used to kill millions-”

“This is not our choice-”

“There is no choice!” The goddess’s wings flexed out, the feathers rattling as her shoulders shook with rage. Mimir stood like a statue, his bifrost eyes shimmering finally with an emotion Freya could see; sorrow.

“You know as well as I do,” Mimir spoke softly, a melancholic smile on the corner of his lips, “that this is beyond the both of us…” He turned, placing his hand on the door of his study, “every day I am with her, I feel like I am raising my own child… and then leading her to her death…” His eyes pointed into a deep glare as he looked at the goddess over his shoulder, “But I’ll be damned if I don’t equip her with the tools to give her a fighting chance.” 

Mimir opened the door and walked in wordlessly, leaving it open by a hair. Freya could hear the girl on the other side, asking if the goddess was upset with her. 

“Now who could ever be upset with you, little thing.” Mimir’s voice rumbled through the door. Freya peaked through the crack, watching as Mimir ruffled the girl’s hair and her laugh filled her chest and sank to her stomach. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“That’s enough, child,” Freya spoke softly to the girl, setting down her water and sitting on a stool, ushering Yn to do the same. “You are doing well. I don’t even need to keep an eye on you, anymore.”

“Thank you, Ms. Freya,” Yn spoke softly as she pulled herself onto her stool. She picked up the teapot sitting at the wooden table and slowly poured some into the goddess’s cup before filling her own. “Do you think I’ll be ready to learn spells soon?” Freya hummed and sipped her tea, the steam whsiping up into the rafters. 

“Possibly. How do you feel about pronunciation?” the girl shuffled slightly in her seat, pouring honey into her cup.

“I’ve been practicing every morning and night, miss. I really do think I’m ready. I-I’ve been excited to start spells as I have been working hard on potions and medicine a-and want to start on new lessons so that I can be of use to the All-Father sooner-”

“Why do you want to learn magic, Yn.” the girl paused, her cup hovering just below her lips. 

“Well… I thought that’s why I was here.” she lowered her cup, letting the warmth of the cup heat her hands. “Mimir a-and the All-Father-”

“I did not ask what the two old men want, or why we need to be in this room together for two hours every other day,” Freya spoke, her face like a stone as she looked down at the girl. Yn swallowed dryly, setting her cup down and staring down at her knees. Freya frowned, and tucked a finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her head up for their eyes to meet. “I’m asking why you want to be here…why do you stay…” 

Yn stared up into Freya’s eyes, feeling a sense of calm rush over her. Her shoulders relaxed and she stared back at the goddess, her vision steady.

“I want to know….” Freya smiled, releasing her chin 

“Know what?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

“I want to know… about the world. About my place in it. I want to know how to be an actual deity. Someone who can be strong enough to protect people, to protect Vanaheim, as you did…I can’t do that if I don’t even know the extent of what I am. Goddess of peace who only knows how to manipulate…goddess of logic who thinks too much with her heart…” Freya listened in silence, letting the girl speak before resting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. 

“There are always more sides to a god than originally known. I am the goddess of love and family, but I am also the goddess of war.” the girl nodded slowly, wrapping her head around the idea there may be more to her than even she knew.

“S-so you are saying those opposites… may be a part of me for a reason? That could be…full of chaos and madness?” the girl trembled at the thought, her skin going pale. Freya frowned, setting down her own cup and resting a hand on her lap. 

“Possibly, but possibly not.” Freya’s voice was strong and caring, her eyes focused on the girl’s, “But just because they are, does not make you a goddess to be feared. Two sides of a coin just help to have a deeper understanding of oneself.” the girl still couldn’t stop the tremble in her hands but looked up to meet the goddess’s gaze, her breath steadying. Freya closed her hands around the girl’s. “We will figure everything out together. I promise.” Yn swallowed and slipped out of her stool, hugging Freya around the waist and burying her face in the woman’s stomach. Freya wrapped her arms around the girl, squeezing her tightly. She  couldn’t help the hot coal sinking down her throat and settling in the pit of her stomach, knowing she was bound to both teach the girl and tell Odin about every instance of growth until she was what he envisioned her to be. They were all nothing but puppets in the end. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Mimir?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m dangerous?”

The man froze mid-stride, looking down at the girl beside him, her hand clasped in his as they walked to supper. She frowned at his stiffness and looked away, tugging him down the hall.

“It’s ok… I guess I already knew the answer…” Mimir didn’t budge, pulling the girl gently back next to him and crouching down to her level. Yn looked at her feet, and when the satir tried to meet her gaze, she turned to avoid it. 

“Lass, look at me.” When her head didn’t budge he tilted her head up and had to hold in a chuckle at the weak glare pointed at him. “Now what’s all this about?” she shuffled her feet, kicking up dust. 

“ I don’t want to be a bad god…” She whispered, her hands wringing at the hem of her tunic. “Freya said I may be a goddess with more sides… meant to be able to manipulate and cause chaos… but I don’t want to be those things, I don’t want people to be scared of me.” She pushed, looking up at the man. “She said that it’ll be ok… but I still wanted to tell you because I don’t want you to think you should be scared…” Mimir sighed and shook his head with a smile. 

“How could I ever be scared of you, sweet girl?” She huffed softly, rubbing her eyes. 

“I don’t know…” he stood back up, ushering her with a hand to her back. 

“Come on then. What say you we start with dessert tonight?”

“Really?”

“Sure! Just uh, don’t tell the queen.”

The girl hummed in agreement, but despite Mimir’s words and promise of sweets, she couldn’t stop the new knowledge of what she may be fester inside her, letting it fill her with dread. Freya had wanted to teach her, a Mimir had wanted to reassure, but really all they did was leave the girl with more fear and unanswered questions.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

For the first night in a while, Heimdall had been able to sleep peacefully without the overbearing ring of noises from the lodge keeping him awake. He lay curled in his furs, soft puffs of air passing past his lips as his chest raised and fell in a slow gentle rhythm. A knock and rattle of his door stirred him awake. He groaned, throwing the covers over his head, hoping they were lingering sounds that would soon dissipate as he fell deeper into the sleep. Maybe it was a drunk trying to get into his room downstairs or across the hall. There was silence and then another set of knocks, followed by a quiet voice whispering his name through the door. Heimdall frowned, his brows furrowing as he rubbed the sleep from his face. He slowly willed himself to sit up and looked over at his door, listening closer.

“Heimdall…” the voice trembled, “C-can I please come in?” the boy’s feet carried him to the door before he fully knew what he was doing, and he opened to meet glassy eyes staring back at him. Yn’s face brightened despite the tear stains, and she rubbed her eyes.

“I'm sorry, I know you were sleeping well and I didn’t want to-“

“Just,” he sighed, grabbing her wrist. “Come in so I can get back to sleep.” He didn’t let her respond, dragging her into his bed and laying his head back on his pillow, holding the covers open for her. Yn sniffled softly, and laid down next to him, letting his warmth slowly calm her. “What’s wrong.” He mumbled, his eyes already closed. Yn looked up at his face, how he was already starting to doze off. He had truly come a long way, and under other circumstances, she would have smiled. 

“I’m worried I may be a bad god.”

“There is no such thing as a bad god, only weak underlings” he grunted, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head. She hummed, expecting an answer akin to this from the Aesir, still, it didn’t ease her.

“Still… I think people here are afraid of me… most of the maids won’t even look at me and the einherjar avoid me on the sparing grounds a-and even in the great hall…even at breakfast!…” she swallowed. “W-what if Mimir or Freya-”

“Anyone afraid of you is either brainless, “he spoke through a yawn, “or a coward. Now go to sleep.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Am I brainless or a coward?”

“No-” 

“There you go.”

“Hm…” the girl smiled slightly, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she settled in the bed. “But do you dislike me?”

“If I disliked you would I wake up in the middle of the night and waste my precious sleep hours consoling your idiotic claims.” She didn’t respond and this was answer enough. He huffed through his nose, pulling the covers closer. “Go to bed, songbird.” She buried her head in his chest, sighing with a tired smile.

“Thank you, weasel…”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[fritterbat]

prev anon can’t imagine a happy ending for an illithid? Sounds like a skill issue. Your art made me so happy to see I got butterflies because it’s such a sweet concept and so well executed. Also, (I haven’t played the full game myself) but doesn’t bg3 make it a point to say how illithids are capable of being their own unique people if given the chance? Sounds like anon would rather make sweeping shallow statements on a race without thinking much deeper on that. A huge talking point of dnd nowadays is looking past the borderline racist original depictions of evil-aligned races and finding something good and fun and compelling about them. This is why we have orcs that defy their “evil dumb” archetype and vampires and drow capable of good and tieflings in so many different colours!! 😂 Im so sorry for the tangent in your inbox but free your mind anon!! kiss an illithid! You have nothing to lose but your chains!!! 🦑💞

awww thank you anon, what a sweet message!! I was nervous to post that art of my character because it was my first time showing her off and I thought people will be weirded out by it (I had meant to post some kind of character design reference sheet explaining her Deal, first, but... I got bit by a galemance fixation......) but I won't let one single rude anon spoil my fun, I was actually blown away by how many notes that art got and how enthusiastic people have been in the tags about illithid tavs!! 🥰

I agree with you that since the very beginning of D&D it's been a grand tradition that the monster manual will say that some monster race is ALWAYS evil and there will be always be the people who look at that and go "okay, but what if there were a good one of them though" lolol. While drow and orcs and so on have been thoroughly moved into the category of "just people who have a different culture" for a while at this point, it's a lot harder to justify a non-evil alignment** for an eldritch sci-fi alien that is required to consume sentient creatures to live and is biologically hardwired to dominate and mind control... but damn if Larian didn't take a look at that and do so ANYWAYS, with ~three completely different characters no less. IMO it's a big part of the themes of this game to look at a supposed "monster" and be forced to see the nuance in them. [i mean, just look at the dark urge's character arc!!! if that person can be a hero despite their innate biological bent towards evil, why can't a mind flayer?]

**ngl vennet miiiight be neutral evil, if i rly had to put her on the alignment scale i'm btwn that and true neutral, but she was Bad before the ceremorphosis lmao. sorry if i tricked anyone with how cute her & gale are but also she's essentially a 'mad scientist' character and if anything becoming a mind flayer Fixed Her. lol

Anyways since you guys seemed to like Vennet, there is more art of her (with & without Gale) coming from me at some point but in the meantime if you want to see some pics of what she actually looks like in-game here are a fewww! obviously as her original drow self and not tavflayer which always looks the same and which i didn't even do in the actual gameplay lol

[toniyx]

meeyow!!! hello there, I'm Tonix, this is my secondary account lol. I'm mainly an artist, but I may write some headcanons from time to time.

I'm gonna post my lazier stuff, more explicit stuff, & thoughts here so look out for that

fandoms:

- Portal/Half-Life 🧡💙

- The Stanley Parable 〽️🪣

- ULTRAKILL 🩸🪽

- Ace Attorney ⚖️✒️

- Wolvesville 🐺🏘️

(this list will get updated as time goes on)

prev fandoms:

- Transformers 👾🚓

- Hazbin Hotel 🌹👁️‍🗨️

please DNI if you are a part of either of these. thanks!!!

stuff I do :

- digital & traditional art

- animation sometimes

- OCs

- roleplay

- sometimes little headcanons and stuff???

- idk there's not much else, if you're a mutual ask for art if you want, usually just gonna be sketches

- I do commissions so if you ever want one of those yeah, reduced price for friends/mutuals

content warnings, DNI, and blog rules below, please read. (separate rules for headcanons/writing requests are here)

CWs:

- bugs, either talked about or posted about, I love bugs (probably won't TW this past here so, heed my warning)

- violence, guns/knives, potential talk of cannibalism, occasional dark jokes/comedic violence, etc. (text stuff might not be tagged, but gore art will most likely be tagged as #gore art, #robogore and/or #gore)

- possible mention of drugs; all will be censored, won't go into anything crazy

- bright colors/very saturated art (will be tagged & probably put under a cut. block #bright colors and #neon if you don't want to see any of this)

- maybe some NSFT lol (will tag either #suggestive or #nsft)

- I may ramble and get annoying

DNI:

- under 18, sorry pals. feel free to interact on my main account tho!

- Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss/Transformers fans

- super religious blogs (excluding fandoms obv)

- on that same note, super political blogs

- anyone toxic or looking to start drama

- not really a DNI, but I'm aromantic, keep that in mind while talking to me and don't push your luck

- AI art users

- proshippers

- "don't support X creator"/"did you know that X said Y about Z" fellas, again, no unnecessary drama here please

blog rules:

- don't repost my art anywhere else, even with credit given. ask me directly before using as a PFP/banner/etc., but using as wallpaper is fine so long as you don't share it. (note: sharing a link to one of my posts somewhere is absolutely fine)

- do not use my art for your own OCs; inspiration is totally fine but if you're just snagging my stuff just... no, man, no

- generally don't request art unless you're a mutual, but if you're really polite about it or give an idea that I really like I may draw you something

- asks may be deleted without warning and without telling you. if you did something that upset me I'll try to reach out and tell you the first few times, but past that you're blocked, yada yada yada.

and lastly, this is totally gonna be a repeat, but here's my biggest rule of all: absolutely no drama here. be dramatic about anonymous people all you want, but no-one you could identify by looking them up. this is also not your place to complain/nitpick about something that someone else on here (namely I) might like.

cancel culture is a huge no-no here. people are people; people make mistakes and have shitty opinions. unless they were convicted of a crime, I don't wanna hear about whose content I should/shouldn't enjoy.

[gravitywonagain]

Hey, thank you so much for sharing Can't Cheat Death While You're Digging Your Own Grave! It came up on my timeline and I think it's fantastic!! Do you have any plans to put it on AO3? I don't want to miss out on any future updates so I was hoping you would so I can bookmark it. :D

hi!! i'm so glad you like it!!

there are plans to put it on ao3 eventually, but i tend not to post anything there until it's been through a round or eight of edits by my wife and/or myself. i post a lot of first drafts here, particularly those i use as warmups, that need a lot of work before i'm actually happy with them and i've come to think of ao3 as where things get 'published' if that makes sense? i had also been planning on not putting up unfinished works there again due to my very slow and sporadic update rate for... well pretty much everything, among other reasons.

it does seem kind of silly, though. now that i write that out. as the only thing that is different about tumblr vs ao3 is the audience and the ability to follow the progress of a fic in a more straightforward manner.....

but, with that particular fic as an example, there are three chapters now and i have no idea what the fourth will even be about, let alone when it will be posted. this means that i might want to change things in prev chapters to suit a better overall story line (which is something i'm learning how to do and struggling to reconcile with my current big long fic). but, then again, maybe not. maybe i reserve that for fics that i haven't posted here? maybe something like this fic becomes more of a 'yes, and...' type exercise, and we all just see where it goes together? i could get behind that, i think. maybe.

it would still have to go through edits. (like, that entire third ch should be in past tense based on how i set up the timeline in the first one.) and wife Does Not have time for following along with all of my wips. but maybe that would still be doable. i've posted non-wife-edited fics there before. i could do it again. add her edits when they're made, if they're made.

...

all of which is to say, YES, it will go up on ao3, but i don't know when. possibly sooner rather than later as a direct result of your question ;)

in the meantime, idk, follow the tag (#ccdwydyog), maybe? not sure how well that works. or maybe i can make a note to send you a thing whenever the next ch happens? it'll have to be a very good note, and placed particularly well, so i currently make no promises to do more that try on that one :)

sorry that got a bit more complicated and ramble-y than you were probably hoping for, but you gave me a lot to think about!

thanks for the ask, and thanks for reading my silly little fic! <3

[criminal-sen]

Heeehhoo I got multi tagged for this so ty to prev, @fractoluminescence and also to op<3 (ps I don't have any characters who I'm super like 'it me!!!!' But I found. some guys idk)

Okay Tetsuo from Akira is a shit in the movie for sure, like he does not handle his newfound powers very responsibly (tho who can rly blame him imho). But Tetsuo in the manga is a whole different level of Shit, he's the same unhinged mess of hormonal teenage.. machismo bullshit.. mixed with 'whoops I have godlike powers I didn't ask for nor can I comprehend without my mind shattering, guess I'll proclaim myself GodKing/Drug Lord/Bike Gang Ruler/Harem Owner/whatever strikes my fancy bc im the biggest strongest toughest man around💪 and i do!!!! what i want!!!!!' and then he sits there on his throne just fuckin. FUMING and unhappy and man.. idk.. that's just such a relatable vibe to me. A teenaged me surely would've been just as wild and angsty about my newfound powers (and maybe even a present day me, who knows) tho I like to think I'd be uhhhh 😏💅 a bit better at it tbfhhhhh.. like I contemplate. thr world. and thr horrors. I'm basically a monk I would be fine:) *immediately explodes into giblets*

Ruth from Ancient Magus Bride is literally just a doggo, he wants to do a good job and protect the ppl he cares about and Bite anyone who threatens them. And um. Yah😒 v easy to see how thats relatable ig. I'm protective of the ppl who are important me, holy shit🤯 (this is sarcasm) But also like.. I'm kind of a directionless wet blanket of a person on my own??? I need a s/o or a friend to be like 'okay it's time for Outside, you wanna go outside???' so there's uh. There's also that:)

Kisame Hoshigaki is 100% 'idk I just work here' vibes, for the majority of his screen time he's the absolute least fanatical-acting Akatsuki member. It's this air of mystery around him.. like he's doing all these dangerous fights with the same emotional gravitas as a blue collar worker punching in for another shift at the ol paper mill or whatever. Does this mean he's just ridiculously strong and has no reason to be concerned? Or is he secretly the MOST fanatically devoted member, he just is rly good at hiding it??? I'm not gonna plot spoil lol. But I fuck very heavily with those vibes, more as an aspiration than a relatable thing tbfh (I have zero chill smh)

*slyly inserts my own art😏* Lastly Mayuri cuz ofc I'm gonna put him. I think that Mayuri's character is largely up for interpretation- how much of his personality is an act, wtf happened in his past, why is he so uhhhh (insert weird and off-putting trait) - and that's a big reason why I was drawn to him. Him being a villain (or at least villainous) only makes him better for all the negative shit I air out in my ff. Like believe me, I have Cursed this man lol

On a lighter note (and sorry for the repeating, I've said all this before in SO many other posts) the mad scientist part of him, specifically the 'constantly modifies his own body' part, has helped me work thru being - and coming out as - trans. Sometimes I wish I had a cooler coping mechanism bc 'yah this uhhhh weird anime guy helped me transition' isn't very fun to say outside of very limited circles dhdgdvdvdv but I appreciate him just as much as ever and Need to get back to writing my ffs about him😭

I used alllllllll my brain cells writing this (none left for tagging ppl, plus I always tag the same 3 ppl I stfg) so if u see this and u wanna do it, feel free<3

Moots! Show 4 characters who have a personality similar to yours

(Just to pass the time)

@jack-in-finit @srtruth @toxictaicho @r473n

[mmilkbreadd]

Chapter twenty five: “The End”

Masterpost - Prev.

Warning(s): a bit of swearing ; post-timeskip manga spoilers!!

────────∘°❉°∘────────

Or aka, ‘The Sakusa Kiyoomi Theory’

Act One: “Who is Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

Saturday, 6:23 am, “y/n's home”

“You're late,” said y/n with crossed arms, she was already waiting for him at the door of her house. “I hope this doesn't become routine.”

It was already morning in the streets of Paris. Tendou Satori and her neighbor (and best friend), y/n l/n, were walking towards their famous bakery and chocolate shop, ‘Sweet Strawberries.’ It was a small place with a few tables to sit for tea and delicious things to eat. Also, although it was small, it was quite crowded.

“Woah, how angry you are today, little baker... More than usual, actually” y/n shook her head at her friend's comment. “But obviously I already know why, and it seems that you know why too.”

Y/n decided to ignore what Satori had said, and keep walking quite ahead of him. It was still an hour before the store opened, but they already had several orders that were due to deliver around nine in the morning. A three-tier wedding cake, forty heart-shaped chocolates for the anniversary of a married couple, and of course, the strawberry cake for someone named Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Around a quarter to seven, they arrived at the bakery, and they got down to work to get all the orders completed on time. 

Tendou was more dedicated to the chocolate part, of course, and to serve customers. Despite y/n had advanced a lot in terms of her social skills, she still needed to learn a little about how to communicate normally with a person.

“That 'Sakusa Kiyoomi' has a Japanese name, do you think he is too?” y/n asked, wiping flour from her hands.

“I don't know, they could be. But doesn't that name sound too familiar to you?”  Satori replied.

“That's exactly what I was thinking!”

“Weird.”

“Yeah... Anyway, the customer asked not to make the chocolate so bitter so add more milk to that please.”

“Yes, boss!” Satori made a military signal and continued his work.

Act Two: “Pretending to be Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

8:39 am, “Paris” (?)

Bokuto Koutarou, along with Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shoyo were lost in Paris. They had circled the Eiffel Tower at least five times. But it seemed they hadn't realized it yet.

They were more lost than Bokuto studying math. But a simple city would not defeat them so easily... would it?

“Maybe we should have brought Sakusa,” Hinata said after round number six.

“And hear him complain about how dirty everything is? No thanks,” Atsumu Miya replied, shaking his head. “We don't need Omi-Omi. I, Miya Atsumu, am enough to know where we are.”

Atsumu put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. Bokuto and Hinata looked around, ignoring the enormous tower behind them, wondering where they were.

“And where are we then?”

“Paris, of course” he replied. “I can’t believe you’re seriously asking that, Shoyo.”

Hinata and Bokuto looked at each other, unable to believe what their teammate was saying.

“Sure…” Bokuto said, getting his phone out of his pocket. It was time to be the serious person of the trio. “Akaashi, we got lost” and that time was now over. Koutarou was crying as he spoke to his friend, who was on another continent. “No, I can't stop crying, Akaashi. I swear I was following the steps you wrote on the map so we wouldn't get lost, but Atsumu wanted to take the lead, so he broke the instructions, and we don’t know where we are. It's all his fault...! No, Sakusa has not come either.”

“Hey! It wasn't my fault,” the dyed blonde complained, crossing his arms. “And we never needed Omi-Omi!”

“Okay, Akaashi, I'll do it. Bye, love you… As a bro of course” Bokuto finished saying and hung up. “He told me I have to call Tendou. Is the only way.”

Hinata started shaking his head from side to side, while Atsumu slapped his forehead with his hand. Then a message came from Keiji; It was the number of Tendou Satori himself. Bokuto started dialing the numbers that appeared on the screen of his phone, on Hinata's.

“Wait wait, shouldn't I speak? He might recognize your voice” Hinata said, awkwardly taking the phone from Bokuto's hands. 

“He would also recognize yours, Shoyo. I'll do it.” Atsumu snatched the device from him and pressed the call button. “Hello, sir, what’s up? I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi, could you help me get to your store? I'm a bit lost... How did I get your number you ask? Eh– It's on your website dude! You should delete it, some people pretend to be someone else and you should not fall for that...”

Act Three: “If Sakusa Kiyoomi was real, we should have brought him.”

10:04 am, “Sweet Strawberries Bakery and Chocolate Shop”

“I can't believe it took us almost two hours to get here! It wasn't even that far from the hotel” Hinata said looking towards the building that was a few meters in front of them.

“Six blocks. Can’t believe it either.” Atsumu wiped the sweat from his brow. “And now that? Are we going in or not?”

Bokuto went pale. He was going to see you, after so many years without communicating or having exchanged glances. He never imagined that he would see you again after that cold day in Miyagi. He had made a thousand scenarios in his head of how you two meet again: in some distant future you visit your hometown and he visits Hinata, and thus you meet in the park or on the street. You would have your own family, and he would have his. But that would happen in many years, not now. Not at this moment, when neither of you had grown enough... When he hadn't managed to forget you yet. But these weren't Koutarou's inventions, this was reality.

The incredible and stupid reality.

“I don't want to go in,” Bokuto said suddenly and stopped walking. “I’m not ready.”

Atsumu, who was already one step away from the door, turned to see him. Hinata collided with Miya's chest because he was walking right behind him.

“What are you talking about? Let's go in now” Atsumu said walking towards the ex-owl. “We didn't change the whole tour just so you don't go see your little girlfriend… We change it so you do! Don't be scared, do it now or you'll regret it for life. I remember how you talked about her during practice, and I even want to meet her after that! Come on dude, use the little braveness you have left.”

It seemed that Atsumu's words, or Hinata's smile next to him, made Bokuto take courage and head towards the entrance of the shop. 

A bell rang before three pairs of feet echoed through the small place. There was a great smell of chocolate that invaded every inch of the establishment. Hinata paced around the place until the sound of a door opening made the three teammates turn their heads to where the sound was coming from.

“Welcome, what can I offer-- So all of you are Sakusa Kiyoomi, huh?” Satori Tendou said, coming out of the back-room. “You see guys, I never believed this would happen. It makes me think a lot too… So, is Sakusa Kiyoomi even real?”

Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto were paralyzed in place for several seconds. The former Shiratorizawa monster stood with his hands on his hips, staring at them.

“Is it Sakusa Kiyoomi? Tell him I'm coming in a minute!” y/n yelled from the back room.

“Oh no, y/n, it’s someone much better!” Tendou replied, holding back his laughter. “You won't believe it even if you see this!”

Then, silence took over the place until a few quick steps interrupted it. A figure appeared through the door, with several boxes in their hands. A pile of boxes so big it covered their face.

“Help me, Satori, I'm going to fall” y/n complained, and after Tendou took out the boxes that covered her view, she saw her friend smiling widely. “What?”

Satori, who couldn't contain his laughter anymore, gestured with his head towards the three statues in the middle of the place. And finally, seeing her friend's face, he started to laugh out loud.

“Kou?”

“A-and Hinata!” shouted Bokuto nervously. Shoyo looked at him and then pointed at Atsumu.

“And also Atsumu!”

“And Saku– shit, we should have brought Omi-Omi after all…”

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Note: I am very very very very sorry for not posting this sooner, but I had thousand of things going on in my life. Now I’m better and ready to finish this beautiful, and crazy, love-story.

I hope you loved it as much as I did. I truly enjoyed it writing, and I’m happy to finish it too.

I’ll appreciate it a lot if you comment down below what you thought about the series. I’ll read you later -Tina.

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Tags in reblog!

Thanks for reading🥰

[heffrondriving]

I'm sorry if this is a little assholely but after seeing your vent post I went looking for where you said to not tag names and the only place I saw it was at the end of your very long tags,, so assuming i didnt miss another more obvious place...? Have you thought of just putting that in the post itself? Because anyone who's seeing it second hand (as in seeing it after someone else rebloged it) won't see that tag + not everyone reads tags, you know :( sorry that it makes you uncomfortable but if you put it somewhere more visible, like in the body of the post, then at least people def will see it. Sending love either way 💕

nahhh nothing to be sorry for issall totally cool and encouraged and you are very kind,, tbh i was lowkey waiting around for something like this and i'm kinda glad for it and also surprised it's not at least fifty times worse??? in all honesty i think i am in dire need and deserving of the hardest dose of criticism at this point for all the stupid messy personal posts i make on a sleep-deprived whim, as i am fully aware that this is not the place for it, and i am and should never be exempt from getting my necessary comeuppance should it arise. and like i said, this quandary was completely of my own fault. i have made my stance on personal comfort posts clear numerous times before and only put them in subtler places like the end of my annoying-ass rambly tags because i really don't wanna bother people with something that sounds so trivially inconsequential, and it makes me incredibly anxious to add them in the post itself (as i reckon it just outright ruins the whole content and that's such a selfish and gross thing for me to do personally,, like who tf am i to ask anything of anyone ech :-/). but this is still my sole responsibility to properly handle and conduct myself online, and i'm so sorry if i came across like i'm attempting to pass the blame for my own self-implicated neglect, as no one else should be subject to dealing with my mistakes. (like no joke i screamed aloud when i read that you looked through my posts or tags??? PLS LICHRALLY NEVER DO THAT EVER THAT'S A VV BAD IDEA ACTUAL ONLINE EQUIVALENT OF DUMPSTER DIVING VIBES EXCEPT THE DUMPSTER'S ON FIRE AND CAUSES MAJOR BRAINROTOFFISITIS!!!!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`))

i've had a well-needed rest hrk composed myself, deleted my prev post (i'm also thinking of removing the post that spurred it just to be sure, t'was super terrible anyway lmao), and muted my notifs for the time being, so please do feel free to tag anything however you wish at this point—i know i'm making an absolute fool out of myself for this full 180 departure (just in time for april 1st tho so swings and roundabouts-) but yeah that's completely fine idk, and if my walnut brain has anything otherwise to say abt it they will be catching These Hands according to the Fists Of Fury Code!!!!! ᕦ(ò皿óᕦ) but in all seriousness, emotional dysregulation is the absolute worst but i understand that maybe i can't really set boundaries for something fully well out of my control, so i just give up the ghost on this bc what else is there to do. c'est la vie if it sucks for me, tough shit @ self tough it out bebs u asked for this :^) though i hopefully can, however, keep everything else out of sight and out of mind so that i don't have to deal with the self-imposed repercussions by willingly setting my triggers off and lashing out incessantly. like mmm that's toxic shit girlie no one wants that here bls get u some therapy pare *whaps myself with an abaniko fan*. it's 100% on me if i choose to expand the tags on my notifs, and what happens in other ppl's blogs should be none of my fucking business and i'm just a super nosy lurker goblin sometimes ig exhibit a: this is what being a chronic cave hermit does to the human psyche. irreversible damage u.......*steven he voice* EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!!!!! my sincerest apologies again for all the trouble and i really hope this answer doesn't come off as too sardonic or acerbic or anything of the sort, i know i goof a lot but i really do mean all of it, even if trying to convey appropriate tone indication in text form is so whack 😩

also i'm really sorry for this mf ten-volume novel series of an answer (i really hope no one's insane enough to actually read this....whatever the hell this is .-.). thank you so much for your patience and understanding, and please keep the love and give it to another funky cool blog who's worthy of it and not deserving of getting squished like a pestilent vermin under your steel-toed bootheel!! /lh ~(இ௰இ~) anywayyy let's ignore (slash unfollow hardblock permanent dni etc. etc....very good ideas, those, bc if i could block myself i would without hesitation smh get this chernobyl elephant's foot outta my feed) this and my other inane bullshittery and let bygones be bygones and go back to our silly manband content, shall we??? this blog is for no-braincell shits and pure dumbassery first and foremost i promise......also i have more poorly-made sh!tposts and kendall's pretty grampa face stuff which i wanna plague the btr tag with if that's still allowed pls ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

(^^^ i can't believe i actually got to use this gif for something sdjsfjksd)